A/N: Of the songs quoted later in the chapter, the first is from The Hobbit and written by J. R. R. Tolkien. The second was written by Elton John and Tim Rice. The third was written by Moby.
Chapter Eleven
Mars
Aunt Em once said she thought the fairies must have marked Dorothy at her birth, because she had wandered into strange places and had always been protected by some unseen power. As for Uncle Henry, he thought his little niece merely a dreamer, as her dead mother had been, for he could not quite believe all the curious stories Dorothy told them of the Land of Oz, which she had several times visited. He did not think that she tried to deceive her uncle and aunt, but he imagined that she had dreamed all of those astonishing adventures, and that the dreams had been so real to her that she had come to believe them true.
Whatever the explanation might be, it was certain that Dorothy had been absent from her Kansas home for several long periods, always disappearing unexpectedly, yet always coming back safe and sound, with amazing tales of where she had been and the unusual people she had met. Her uncle and aunt listened to her stories eagerly and in spite of their doubts began to feel that the little girl had gained a lot of experience and wisdom that were unaccountable in this age, when fairies are supposed no longer to exist.
-L. Frank Baum, The Emerald City of Oz
July 2, 1996, London, England, UK
Dorothy stood at a bridge in the midst of the great city of London. When she looked around, everything was gray. The sky above was gray, as was the river below. The bridge was gray, also, as were most of the immediate surrounding buildings. It reminded her of the Kansas prairie where she spent her early years around the turn of the century. It was having the same effect on people that the Kansas prairie did, she noticed. It was draining them of all joy and happiness.
Looking at Dorothy, you wouldn't know she'd just celebrated her 104th birthday the previous month. You'd presume she was in her early 20s. She was dressed in white, with trimming of blue, green, and yellow. The white represented her station as Witch, the blue and yellow her dominions of East and West, the green the Emerald City. In her hand was her Fairy Wand, though Magi would consider it less a wand and more an ornate staff. Flanking her was a lion and tiger.
The Lion had once been known as the Cowardly Lion. Because he knew fear, he had thought he lacked courage. What he learned was that everyone knew fear. Courage was facing and overcoming your fears, and the Lion did that. Of course, he was always cautious, contrasting Dorothy's tendency towards anger and rashness. Normally, this was countered by the woman who all had come to see as the other half of Dorothy's soul, the serene Queen Ozma. But, Ozma hadn't accompanied her on this mission, so she was glad to have the Lion's counsel.
The Tiger was known as Hungry Tiger, and was aptly named. He was always hungry, no matter how much he ate. He longed to eat a fat baby, but his conscience would never allow him to.
London's current dreary grayness wasn't because of the natural conditions that had made the Kansas prairie what it was, though. The previous evening, demonic creatures called Dementors had started breeding in the area. Up close, a Dementor could drain your very soul. Their mere presence, especially in large numbers, created the current conditions.
Dorothy, herself, was unaffected. The hard life on the Kansas prairie that had turned everything and everyone around her gray had never effected her. Her aunt and uncle had often wondered how she was able to remain so full of joy, how she was able to laugh. They understood now, of course. It was just her way. Dementors terrified the local Magi, but Dorothy had faced the Phanfasms. She and her friends had been all that stood between them and ravaging the Earth.
These Dementors were a minor threat, by comparison. The Royal Army of Oz would soon deal with them, but first things first...
The dark Magi the Dementors served, who called himself Lord Voldemort, had threatened to send his Death Eaters to destroy a bridge if Britain's Minister for Magic didn't resign, immediately. The Minister refused, but fortunately, Dorothy knew exactly which bridge Voldemort planned to attack. He would only send a few of his Death Eaters, she knew, just enough to destroy the bridge. So, she would have the superior numbers, weapons, and the advantage of surprise.
The General of the Royal Army of Oz approached, one of Dorothy's oldest and dearest friends, Tik-Tok. He was what his creators called a machine man, short, with a round body made of copper. For millennia, the Fae had inspired humans, and so it was when the Royal Historian of Oz, L. Frank Baum, made Tik-Tok's existence known to the world in 1907. Many imaginations would be inspired, and now Tik-Tok was called "the prototype robot."
Fae, in turn, were inspired by human imagination, and so it was with the smiths of Oz. As human imagination conceived of more varieties of robots, so Oz's development of them advanced. Where he was once the only one of his kind, Tik-Tok now had many children. A little over a decade, before, Queen Ozma had found special inspiration in a human's imagination, and the modern version of the Royal Army of Oz came to be.
"All is pre-pared, Princ-ess," said Tik-Tok.
"And here they come," said Dorothy, looking to the sky. A small squad of people in robes and masks were flying on brooms, approaching the bridge. She would bring down the leaders, alive, so they could deliver a message to their master. The rest... Well, this was war.
She raised her fairy wand, and willed a flash of lightning to strike near the approaching Death Eaters... Not to hit them, but to put a quick scare in them. It was successful. She smiled.
"Fish in a barrel," she said. She glanced at the Tiger, who was licking his chops in anticipation.
Tuesday is named for Teiwaz, the German God of War. The Romans associated this day with their own God of War, Mars. In Thailand, the day is dedicated to the Hindu God of War, Mangala, for whom they named the red planet.
Appropriately, on this Tuesday, Harry wanted to kill someone.
He'd had a very good day, yesterday, with two very lovely female friends. He met the equally lovely Goblin Queen, and learned that he owned a house in Kensington, one of London's wealthiest districts. It seems both the muggle and magical branches of the Potters had resided in Kensington. Luna had informed him that he had a very famous muggle cousin, a writer named Beatrix Potter, from there. Harry had heard of Peter Rabbit, of course, but had never read the books.
What was bothering Harry was what he learned about the man he had considered his mentor, and like a grandfather, Albus Dumbledore. After sleeping on it, he reviewed everything, looking for something, anything, that wouldn't make Dumbledore something other than what Harry had always believed him to be.
That just made it worse.
He'd considered that maybe Dumbledore had rushed to judgment regarding Sirius. That didn't excuse him from failing to do his duties as Chief Warlock, of course, especially since he managed to remember to do his job when it came to every other accused Death Eater... His word, alone, was enough to keep Snape out of prison... But, thinking over the events that led to his parents' deaths, he remembered that Dumbledore had been the one to perform the Fidelius Charm for the house they were hiding in. Therefore, he had to have known Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper, not Sirius. He knew, all along, that Sirius was innocent.
Sirius had to have known Dumbledore knew, as well. So, why did he continue to follow the old man who had betrayed him? Sirius Black wasn't the sort of man that would have taken that, lying down. So, what happened?
The realization chilled him.
There were many magics, Harry knew, that could bewitch the mind... Memory charms, the Imperius Curse, curses to confuse people, and who knew what else... Dumbledore had gotten to Sirius at some point after he escaped from Azkaban, probably as soon as he stepped foot on Hogwarts's grounds.
Dumbledore knew, early on, that year, what was happening, and ran Harry, Hermione, and Ron through an obstacle course of his own design, which almost got them killed by a werewolf. But why? And had he done this other times?
Harry thought back to his first year at Hogwarts, when Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone at Hogwarts, knowing Voldemort would seek it, in a school full of children. Then, after Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all nearly killed a few times, Harry recovered the Stone, which Dumbledore then had destroyed.
But, if Dumbledore was just going to destroy it, anyway, why didn't he do that in the first place? Why put everybody in danger? Just to run Harry through his paces?
That had to be exactly why.
This was Dumbledore's way of preparing him to face Voldemort. But, surely there were ways to prepare him that didn't put every Hogwarts student's life at risk, year after year. Didn't he care about the children that had been entrusted to him?
Obviously not.
And, if Dumbledore had used mind magics on Sirius, who else had he used them on?
Harry couldn't deal with this. He needed to talk to someone about it. But who?
His new mobile rang.
It was Luna.
One simple truth had served Lord Voldemort well over the years: Most witches and wizards, at least in Britain, lacked common sense.
They were also cowardly and incompetent, for the most part. His number of Death Eaters was never large, yet he came so close, before the unfortunate incident in Godric's Hollow, of taking over Wizarding Britain, completely. And now, witches and wizards were living in terror, all because he gave his followers a scary name and scary masks. Wizarding Britain wasn't able to look at them as a small group of violent criminals. If they had simply realized that, his forces would have been routed almost before he started this war. It had the same effect on his followers. By putting on the mask, they felt transformed into someone powerful. Alecto and Amycus Carrow were no longer what they were without the masks and marks, embarrassing, stupid, failures in the eyes of their family, but Death Eaters, the elite forces of the Dark Lord.
The hypocrisy and prejudices of his enemy, Dumbledore, had helped a great deal in spreading the fear and paranoia. For the last 15 years, Gryffindor students at Hogwarts firmly believed that every peer in Slytherin was a future Death Eater. Not only did that help prevent any unified front against him, but it made it seem like his forces were much larger than they were.
Of course, this is why he needed non-human allies, such as Dementors, giants, werewolves, vampires, and so forth. There was only so much actual damage his relative handful of Death Eaters could actually do. That would change, of course, once he took over the Ministry of Magic. Sure, some would still resist, but enough would simply follow orders because the Ministry was the recognized authority. Many who would never enter his service while he was a terrorist would gladly do so when he was the Government, seeing the opportunity to advance themselves.
Because of his small numbers, he was very careful in how he used them. Targets were picked to spread the maximum amount of fear with the least amount of risk. The goal was to disrupt, while removing specific pieces from the board, and furthering his long term goals. The Ministry's institutionalized corruption, prejudices, and incompetence were not only what he was expecting, but counting on.
He had issued a demand that Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge resign, or he was going to destroy a bridge. Now, common sense would dictate that the Ministry inform the muggle government, at once, of an impending terrorist attack. They'd then work with the muggles, taking advantage of their intelligence organizations and defence forces, to have every bridge in the country that had much traffic watched, with orders to shoot anyone wearing a black robe and mask flying in on a small device resembling a broom on sight. While Voldemort didn't know a great deal about muggle weapons, he knew bullets traveled faster than the speed of sound. Enough of them fired fast enough and the best a wizard would be able to do is retreat.
But, he knew, the Ministry wouldn't do that. Despite being based in London, they had learned nothing from Grindlewald's muggle allies. If the muggles were allowed involvement in Wizard affairs, they would force reforms, based on their own laws. They would force an end to slavery. They would insist that Lycanthropy be treated as a medical condition and force the Ministry to give the werewolves human rights. They would consider the complaints of the goblins and centaurs. They would review the court and prison system. And, what they would do to the educational system... Muggle schools were closed and people jailed for less than what went on routinely at Hogwarts.
So, the Ministry would tell the muggle government nothing until after the damage was done. Then, they would try to intimidate the Prime Minister, using mind magics if they deemed it necessary, to keep the muggle government in the dark, to try to make them feel helpless.
His other large planned attack would be the coast of Somerset, a little reminder to the woman who had been his favorite, and who had betrayed him.
He knew, from experience, that he couldn't attack Thelema, itself, and that even coming close to Glastonbury Tor was too risky for an assault. But, an attack of the coast of Somerset would, hopefully, scare the muggles that flocked to the Tor, the magic there so strong that even muggles were drawn to it, and, through their rituals, added to Glastonbury's magical defences.
He thought of Hogwarts's motto: Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus. No, he didn't want to awaken what was there... yet.
These attacks on London and Somerset were primarily a distraction, though. While the Ministry would be concentrating on these large assaults, Voldemort's main focus was on individual targets, either to abduct or assassinate. He needed information from Ollivander and Fortescue. He wanted to eliminate one of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. It didn't really matter who, so he picked a target at random. The assassination he'd conduct, himself, would be that of Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and one of his most dangerous enemies, because she was one of the few competent and sensible people, there.
After Harry told Luna what he'd figured out, she said she'd be right over, as soon as she threw some clothes on.
"What, you're naked?"
"Yes... I am at home, after all... But, I doubt your aunt would appreciate it if I came as I am."
"I wouldn't mind, but you're right... She would. I'll see you when you get here."
Well, that distracted him from the stress, the thought of Luna naked while they were chatting...
She arrived, wearing a pink t-shirt and shorts, and she was barefoot. She seemed completely oblivious to how that combination was affecting him. Harry wondered if she bothered with knickers when throwing that on, since she didn't bother with shoes. Yes, he was feeling less stressed about Dumbledore, now.
"Thanks for coming," he said.
"I'm always here for you, Harry. Besides, we'd planned to watch The Lion King, remember? We'll discuss what we talked about with Dad and Dora, when we see them. She's on a mission, today."
"For Dumbledore or the Ministry?"
"Neither. Her goal is to help you win, not them. Remember, you do have people who are on your side, not Dumbledore's or the Ministry's."
"What's she doing?"
"Something that will be a major setback for Voldie."
Harry laughed, and said, "I don't think he'd like that nickname."
"It's not as though we can offend him any more than we have, already, you know. I don't really like calling him 'You Know Who,' but I need to call him something that won't make people wet themselves when I say it. I could call him 'Tom,' but people would think I was talking about the barman at the Leaky Cauldron. Now, are you ready to visit the Rook?"
"The Rook?"
"It's the name of my house. You'll see why."
"Let me grab my wallet, in case we decide to go anywhere." He got that, and his keys, as he already had his wand.
"Take my hand."
"I need to learn how to Apparate."
"In time..."
They arrived outside what looked like a large rook.
She gave him a quick tour of the grounds, which included a pond in the back, and woods beyond it. He then did something he had never done, before... enter a girl's bedroom.
It was spacious, with a bed that seemed much larger than she surely needed. His mind couldn't help but drift to thoughts of her sleeping in that bed, and thoughts of her lack of clothing during their phone conversation, wondering if she was sitting on the bed, at the time.
There were the expected shelves full of books. There were also several paintings and painting equipment. He asked the obvious question.
"You're an artist?"
"I like to think so... I paint, anyway."
"You're very good."
"Thank you, Harry."
He looked at one work in progress. He recognized what it was depicting.
"It's the hall leading to the Department of Mysteries," he said. "How do you remember all the details?"
"Pensieves come in very handy when you're needing to be exact. And it's very important that I be exact."
"Ah... So what inspired you to paint it?"
"Professor Trelawney suggested it. It was rather random. But, when she makes random suggestions, I think it's best to go ahead and follow them."
Amycus Carrow couldn't believe what had happened. It was supposed to be a simple destruction of a bridge. Yet now, she was magically restrained and disarmed. She looked beside her. Her brother Alecto was similarly restrained and disarmed, but at least they were alive.
The rest of their party was dead, shot down from the sky. Mighty wizards, Death Eaters feared by magical Britain, snuffed out, just like that.
Garfield Goyle managed to land on the bridge. As it turned out, it would have been better for him to have been shot out of the skies like the others. Amycus had seen many horrible things in her service to the Dark Lord. She'd done a lot of them. But that... No, this wasn't Dumbledore's people, or the Ministry, or the muggles, as she was sure they didn't have huge tigers as part of their defence forces.
Then, there were the soldiers that shot them down...
They all looked exactly alike. They were huge, and clearly extremely muscular under their matching black leather jackets. Their matching hair was a dark brown. They wore matching sunglasses, and carried very large matching weapons.
Who were these people?
Two figures approached. One was... Amycus had no idea what it was, a short, round, copper... thing with arms, legs, and a head. The other...
It was a young woman, in white, holding a jeweled staff topped with a golden circle with what looked like a Z within it.
"So," she said with an accent that Amycus recognized as American, "this is what passes for a witch and wizard around here? I was killing better witches than you when I was seven."
Alecto yelled, "Shut up, you bitch! AHHHHHHH!"
He found himself with the woman in white's staff pressed into a very delicate part of his anatomy.
As he continued to scream, the copper thing said, "You will speak to Princ-ess Doro-thy with re-spect."
Amycus knew the... Princess had stopped the pressure, because her brother stopped flailing and screaming, and was now whimpering.
"Now," the Princess said, "I s'pose you're wondering why I kept you alive. It's because I want you to deliver a message to your master. Tell him Princess Dorothy of Oz did this. I want him to know. And, tell him the Royal Army of Oz is why he'll be short of Dementors."
"You think your army can face them without losing their souls?" Amycus asked.
Princess Dorothy simply smiled, released the spell holding the Carrows, and tossed them their wands. They knew better than to try to attack.
"Well," she said, "are you just going to sit there? Go home."
So, they did.
"Idiots..."
"Indeed," said the Lion, who had returned with the Tiger.
She turned to her army, and said, "If you gentlemen could please take care of the soul sucking ghouls? We're the ones who are supposed to create unseasonable mists, you know."
"We'll be back," one of her soldiers said in an Austrian accent.
Dorothy watched the Royal Army of Oz march to where the Dementors were breeding, accompanied with dramatic music.
"Y'know," she said, "I love Ozma, but she's the biggest nerd I've ever known."
"Indeed," said the Lion.
"Judge me by my size, do you?" Flitwick asked the fallen Death Eaters, Gibbons and Travers. "I was a dueling champion, remember."
"How... How did Dumbledore know?" Gibbons asked.
"He didn't," said Flitwick. "If he did, he wouldn't have told me. And, he certainly wouldn't have told them."
The Death Eater pair wondered briefly who they were, before they were grabbed roughly by a quartet of snarling goblins, who dragged them into an underground passageway. What made the situation worse for the pair was the goblins were singing.
Clap! Snap! the black crack!
Grip, grab! Pinch, nab!
And down down to Goblin-town
You go, my lad!
Clash, crash! Crush, smash!
Hammer and tongs! Knocker and gongs!
Pound! Pound! Far underground!
Ho, ho! my lad!
Swish, smack! Whip crack!
Batter and beat! Yammer and bleat!
Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,
While Goblins quaff, and Goblins laugh,
Round and round far underground
Below, my lad!
His work here done, Flitwick disapparated. Seconds later, Emmeline Vance of the Order of the Phoenix walked by, not knowing how close she'd just come to death.
The Rook's entertainment room was in the basement. The nice sized telly and VCR were connected to a stereo system. Harry saw a good sized movie and music collection. There were couches, chairs, a small fridge, some cabinets, and even a microwave.
"Help yourself to something to drink. We have Coke, root beer, Sprite, butterbeer... I'll fix us some popcorn."
While Harry was deciding on a beverage, Luna put a package in the microwave. As the popcorn was popping, she dialed her mobile.
"Hello, Hermione... I'm doing well... Good... Oh, yes, it is a fascinating read. Wait 'til you meet her... Harry's here. I'm introducing him to the wonderful world of Disney. He hasn't seen any of the films from the last several years... Yes, of course we own a VCR... You can make them functional in a magical household with the right shielding. Wait until you see the Tonks's media room... We actually could introduce computers to Hogwarts if the Ministry would allow it... Yes, I think that would be a good idea... I'm thinking The Lion King first, actually. He's a boy, you know, and a Gryffindor, but we'll get to Beauty and the Beast... Haha, yes, he does need to learn to control his temper... But, the reason I called is Harry has a mobile, now, so you need to exchange numbers... Yes, I'll put him on..."
Harry took the phone and immediately was confronted by his shocked best friend.
"You've never seen The Lion King? Or any of those movies?"
"No... I didn't have the advantages of a proper muggle upbringing."
"Well, it's time to catch up, then. Not only will you be entertained by an enthralling adventure story, but there are some valuable life lessons, as well."
"Are you going to quiz me on it, later?"
"I might."
After exchanging phone numbers with Hermione, he made himself comfortable on one of the couches. Luna sat next to him with her own drink, and placed the bowl of popcorn between them, before starting the movie.
"Hermione said she might quiz me on it, later," said Harry.
"Hmm... In that case, pay attention to the opening song."
From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than could ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round
It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life
Gibbons and Travers were treated none too gently on the way down. They were very bruised by the time they were brought before Jareth. They were outraged over this treatment, and were going to make that arrogant Fae that was oh so casually sitting with one leg draped over the arm of his chair know they weren't going to stand for it.
"How dare you filthy sub-humans treat your betters this way?" shouted Gibbons.
Jareth raised an eyebrow, and said, "You know, good manners go a long way. They might have saved your lives, just now." He asked an attending goblin, "Have the dragons been fed?"
"No, Your Majesty."
Travers yelled, "Never mind whether your beasts have had their lunch! You will beg us for our forgiveness!"
"Ah..." Jareth smiled, wickedly, and told the attending goblin, "Take them and show them why good manners and the feeding habits of dragons are important."
"With pleasure, Your Majesty."
The film was nothing like Harry had expected from a cartoon. He could relate to it's young hero, Simba. Zazu reminded him a lot of Percy Weasley. What especially struck home was Simba seeing the spirit of his father, and what Rifiki told him: "He lives in you." And what Mufasa had told Simba about the stars...
He and Luna discussed it, after.
"What I'd really like to learn," he said, "is some of those Kung Fu moves the monkey was using."
"Voldie would never see a spinning roundhouse kick coming. I actually know some people who could teach you."
"Do you think it would actually help?"
"Aside from the fighting skills? Speed and movement are always assets in magical duels. It would also help you find balance and control. And, I mean more than just physically."
Of course, he'd need more than just fighting skills. When Simba returned to the Pride lands, he didn't fight, alone. He led, made the plans. Harry didn't know if he could do that...
"Did you know Simba means 'lion' in Swahili?" asked Luna.
"No."
"Do you know what 'Harry' means?"
"No... I didn't know it meant anything."
"It means 'commander.'"
Commander... Harry considered that. Then, he understood.
He could make his own choices, his own decisions. He was a Gryffindor, so he'd be the Lion, and face all his fears and doubts. His name meant commander, so he'd live up to it. He wasn't going to worry about what Dumbledore or anyone else expected of him, or what Snape, the Daily Prophet, or anyone else thought of him.
When he arrived at Amelia Bones's home, Voldemort expected security measures he'd be able to bypass. What he didn't expect was the blonde woman quickly approaching him.
She was striking, but out of place with the times. Her dress, her hair, looked beautiful, but of the sort of glamor that was popular around the time he was born. He assumed, whoever she was and whatever the reason she was dressed that way, he'd taken her by surprise, since she was wandless.
He casually pointed his wand and said "Avada Kadavra." The Killing Curse struck her in the chest.
She paused, then threw her head back, and laughed.
Before the Dark Lord could register what was happening, she had charged at him with inhuman speed, and struck him.
He then found he was having to quickly shield himself from spells sent at him. If he had been almost anyone else, he would have been finished. He noted the spells were coming from slightly different directions, meaning an ambush. He made it to his feet, but didn't apparate away, immediately. He needed to see if he could salvage this mission, or at least know who his attackers were.
The attacks paused, and he saw. One was a young Auror he recognized, Nymphadora Tonks. The other was a woman he'd not seen for far too long, her mother.
While he was certain he could kill either one of them, he couldn't kill both before the survivor destroyed him, and he had no idea what the blonde woman... thing... was. His Horcruxes insured he'd survive. But, last time, he spent 14 years as a wraith. He really couldn't afford another setback like that.
They wouldn't be able to contain him, though. He would leave, shortly. But... He had not seen Andy in so many years. They may as well talk...
"You look beautiful, as always, Andy."
"Thank you... I honestly can't say the same for you."
"I always preferred honesty. You know that. That's why your betrayal was so painful. You had never lied to me."
"And, I still didn't. Think back... Did I ever actually lie to you?"
He considered, then answered, "No... No, you never directly lied. You simply withheld truths, and misled me."
"And, do you not do that all the time?"
He looked at Nymphadora, trying to gauge what the Auror might be thinking of her mother, under these circumstances, having a civil conversation with him. However, the shape-shifter's face was a mask, just like her mother's always was, as much a mask as any his Death Eaters wore. That, he thought, served her well. While it was, no doubt, easy to hide her true allegiance from the Ministry, it was far harder to do so with Dumbledore, being such a master of secrets and lies, himself. Shape-shifters were natural Occlumens. Andy had been able to guard her thoughts and plans even from him, and Voldemort could safely assume Dumbledore didn't use the intimate techniques with Nymphadora that he had used with Andy.
"How many of us have an agent in Dumbledore's camp, anyway?" he asked.
"Only the two of us, as far as I know. The rest of his people worship him... Except for that one petty thief that, I'm told, doesn't bathe often enough."
Nymphadora said, "He's really gross."
"Yes," said the Dark Lord, "Severus says the same thing."
Andy said, "You'll be glad to know no one in your camp betrayed you to me. I have other sources."
"Thank you. That's good to know."
He knew she only told him so he wouldn't torture any of his followers she cared about. He knew she was telling the truth. She was right, she never directly lied to him. Still, that left him to consider who her other sources were. He could come to only one conclusion, given her... friends. And that disturbed him most of all.
"And now," he said, "you have a powerful ally in the Ministry. Well played, Andy."
"Thank you."
"Out of curiosity," he said, motioning to the blonde, "what is this remarkable creature? She's clearly not an inferi, yet she is also obviously not living."
"She's Maria. And you're right, she is remarkable."
"Of course, you're not going to satisfy my curiosity... So, while it has been nice to speak to one of the few people in this world I respect..."
"You do still have the option of just walking away. The point of prophesies is you're forewarned. You can avert it. You don't have to face Harry Potter. You can just take Bella and... go somewhere, far away from here. Sure, it would deny a lot of people justice, but you'd be more certain to survive."
"Why, it almost sounds like you care. You know me better than that, Andy. I've come too far... I have to see this through."
"I know... I had to remind you of your options, though."
"Speaking of which... What prompted your return to the game? I was of the understanding that you gave up your political ambitions after Bella was imprisoned."
"There was that... and Sirius... and Cissy just barely staying out of Azkaban... That gave my enemies the wedge the needed. At least Crouch's ambitions went down with mine. But, to answer your question, the consequences would be too great if I didn't act. For the record, I no longer have any desire to be Minister for Magic. The Ministry, as it is, is useless to my long term goals."
"We still have some things in common, it seems, despite everything. Until me meet again..."
He then disapparated to his home. At least the other missions doubtlessly went well...
Luna was playing a CD for Harry by an American artist named Moby. It was, mostly, what Harry recognized as dance music, but nothing like he'd ever heard. The CD had reached a song called "Into the Blue."
All alone, I open my eyes
Wild ride
Hold your fire
I'm not about to die
Keep back
Let in some air, I dare lie down
To stare at the sky
I am wide open
Reaching forever
I fly into the blue
Luna suddenly looked to Harry with concern.
"Harry?"
Then, he felt it, the scar on his forehead.
The pain was searing. Voldemort was angry, angrier than Harry had ever felt.
Luna suddenly jumped into Harry's arms, and shoved her tongue in his mouth.
Well, he wasn't expecting that. As her exploring tongue interacted with his, all thoughts of the Dark Lord were gone. Not breaking the kiss, she pushed Harry onto his back and placed herself on top of him. His arms wrapped themselves around her lower back as her legs straddled his.
The pain receded, and the blood flow and throbbing sensation moved to a lower part of his anatomy. Luna then pulled up. She looked as flushed as Harry knew he was.
"You were being invaded," she told him.
"Thanks for driving him off. It was Voldemort."
He was then very aware of what had risen in his pants.
As if sensing his embarrassment, Luna said, casually, "Don't worry about your erection, Harry. I'd feel insulted if I didn't warrant one, after that. If you'll notice from my chest, I was aroused by our dancing tongues, too."
He looked, and a question from earlier in the day was answered. She wasn't wearing a bra. Very perky nipples were poking in her shirt.
She climbed off of him and asked, "Does he normally invade your mind?"
"Not often... but our minds are... connected. That's how he was able to lure me to the Department of Mysteries."
"That's not good. Do you still have a headache?"
"A little, yeah."
She sat on the floor, her legs spread, slightly.
"Come here, lay down, use my lap as a pillow."
He did so, and Luna began gently massaging his temples.
"I've never felt him that angry, before," he said. "Something bad has happened."
"Look at it this way... If he's angrier than you've ever felt him being, then he's having a very bad day. A bad day for him is good for you."
"My Lord..." Alecto Carrow begged, "They had... BOOMSTICKS!"
Not for the first time, the Dark Lord Voldemort regretted making blood purity the cause those he'd recruit would rally around. It was just so convenient, being the heir of Slytherin...
"Crucio," he replied.
He was enraged. Everything had gone wrong. He had failed to kill Bones. The attack on Somerset had been driven off. The Death Eaters leading it had survived more or less intact, but not the giants. It was as if Nature, herself, had risen against them, followed by flaming arrows. The bridge attack not only failed, but most of his Death Eaters sent on that mission were massacred. Gibbons and Travers hadn't returned from their mission, and he had to presume them dead or imprisoned. Bella and her group didn't meet any resistance in Diagon Alley on their mission to capture Olivander and Fortescue. Their targets simply weren't there.
He was angry, and Alecto Carrow was going to feel every bit of it. The fool... Not that they had had a chance, he knew. They had no way of knowing a superior force of Fae would be waiting for them...
He stopped, breathing heavily. He looked down at the twitching, whimpering, Carrow. He looked at his terrified assembled Death Eaters. He looked at Bella, who looked worried, not for herself, but for him.
His blind rage was doing the situation no good. He needed to control himself. He took a few deep breaths...
The Dementors had been decimated. Only a few had escaped the massacre. How could this Royal Army of Oz have destroyed them without having their souls sucked out?
Of course... It all fell into place. They were whatever Maria was. For all his knowledge of the Fae, he'd never studied the North American ones. He would need copies of Baum's histories, even though they were several decades out of date. He needed all the information he could get, because everything had changed.
He knew he would provoke the Fae into action. But, he expected it would be well after he'd secured Wizarding Britain and Potter and Dumbledore had been disposed of. This was too soon. He wasn't ready for this, no where close. The only solace he could take was that Dumbledore's plans would be disrupted even more than his. Dumbledore wasn't nearly as adaptable to changes in conditions.
And that was the advantage he would have. He reminded himself that he could adapt. This was a considerable setback, but not an insurmountable one.
But, he wouldn't be able to adapt as long as he fell into these rages. He needed the balance and control that had guided him for all those years. He was losing all rationality, and therefore his ability to make the right decisions.
Something must have gone very wrong with the ritual that restored him to power. He needed, above all, to find out what, and correct it.
"Bella, attend me," he said, as he walked to his private quarters. She followed, and closed the door behind her.
They stood still, for a moment. Bella watched over him, as he fought to regain his composure. After a few moments, she slowly approached, and held him.
Susan Bones, a Hogwarts student in Harry's year, and a Hufflepuff, loved and admired her Aunt Amelia.
Gryffindors and Slytherins, by and large, looked down on Hufflepuffs, considering them duffers. What they failed to realize was that Hufflepuff produced not only most of the Healers of Wizarding Britain, but most of its best Aurors.
One might think Gryffindor would be the house that would do that, and it had certainly produced many Aurors. But, their desire for glory and praise, their arrogance, and what was far too often moral double standards tended to lead to less than high quality Aurors. Oh, there were exceptions, but the Hufflepuff qualities of hard work, fairness, and treating people equally were as important in a line of work that was about serving and protecting as bravery. Unlike many Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs weren't boastful, preferring to let their deeds speak for them.
Right now, her aunt, with Xeno Lovegood, was going around Susan's home evaluating the security measures. They'd arrived, unexpectedly. Voldemort, himself, had just attempted to kill her. One of her Aurors, Susan was told, Nymphadora Tonks, her mother Andromeda, Xeno, and a woman Amelia didn't know arrived before the Dark Lord, informing her of the impending attack. Xeno had taken her away from there as soon as Voldemort arrived, and they came here.
Susan was worried about those who remained to face Voldemort, but Xeno assured her the women were quite capable, and would rendezvous with them, soon. Shortly, Xeno received a phone call, and told Susan and her aunt that Voldemort had left, and it was safe to return.
"May I come with?" asked Susan.
"I'm not letting you out of my sight until we've upgraded the security, here. Probably not even after that," her aunt replied.
So, they apparated to Amelia's home. Susan had met Nymphadora Tonks in the past. She liked her, and wanted to be like her. When she had told her aunt this, she replied, with amusement, "OK, but not too much."
She was introduced to Adromeda Black-Tonks and a strange woman only identified as Maria.
"Thanks for the rescue," said Amelia.
"Any time. We have much to discuss," said Andromeda.
"That we do."
"Well," said Xeno, "if you no longer have need of me, I'd like to tell my daughter we're all safe and sound."
"Of course," said Amelia.
"Say hi to Luna for me," said Susan.
After checking with the others by phone, and learning that all their missions had been successful, Xeno arrived home, where he met Harry Potter. Harry was nervous, he noticed, as he looked into the boy's eyes, appraising him.
After updating them, and giving Luna Susan's greeting, they told him about what Harry had concluded about Dumbledore, and Harry feeling Voldemort's rage.
He told Harry, "You'll need to learn to protect your mind from both Dumbledore and Voldemort."
"I can teach him," said Luna.
Xeno nodded, and said to Harry, "Would that be alright with you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Call me Xeno."
"Thank you."
Luna sat on the floor, and motioned for Harry to do the same.
She began, "The first thing we need to teach you is how to breathe. Most people only use a small percentage of their lung capacity, because they're never taught to breathe properly..."