Chapter 51- Love and Fear

The first week home saw a few changes for Harry. For a start, his Cranleigh ladies were eager to take him on dates. Jennifer had put together a series of outfits based on clothes tailored for her by Harry and she enjoyed showing just how well they suited her from the skin up. The older girl had accepted her first short-term modelling contract and she intended to celebrate.

Harry took her out for a candlelit dinner in London. An elegant French restaurant, that his parents had previously enjoyed, had served as the venue and lived up to its three star rating. Jennifer enjoyed the flute of champagne over dinner and then the dancing completed a lovely night for her. She gave Harry a lingering kiss and a come hither look, inviting him into her room where they made out until she went to sleep.

Nym had been accepted by the Kitsunes for special training. While Harry wouldn't have put it past the Angels to include some of the 'enhanced' training they had given him, Nym was happy to share every detail of her lessons with Harry and the Jewels. They started with the basic Ninja Academy training, making sure that the training illusions used before had worked correctly and getting Nym fitter than she had ever been in her life. She was also more deadly and more confident. All in all, she couldn't be more pleased with her lot. Even the aches and pains at the end of the day became another source of pleasure thanks to the divine massages Harry gave her, each one with a happy ending.

Fleur and Yvette, adults in both societies, had requested permission to get the same sort of bloodline transfers that the others in the Alliance had been offered. After submitting to questioning, the Clan agreed and their surgery was scheduled for as soon as their family could visit. Angelique also wanted the chance and had long come to terms with the fact that the price for the gift of Chakra would be periods where she would be unable to use magic, or all the time for any clones, a thought that would terrify most witches, Veela or otherwise.

The clones were chakra constructs and that meant they would have no Allure at all. It was both exciting and scary for all the Veela to imagine living without that in their lives. Jacques and Apolline dropped by the following day, talking seriously with both their daughters about this invasive surgery and the life-altering consequences of it.

Angelique raised the point that Veelas and witches were not the same. This brought the plans to share the bloodline to a halt as they agreed that this meant they couldn't be sure that the surgery would be as easy as it was on the other recipients. After arguments from Fleur and Yvette to allow them to go ahead anyway got them nowhere, Angelique was finally allowed to go under the knife.

She was given the standard preparations including the magic-restraining cuffs and the entire Clan was on hand in person to observe the procedure. They monitored her status every second through the operation and for a full day, keeping her hooked up to various monitors and looking for the faintest sign of a problem before they pronounced the operation a provisional success, keeping a heart monitor on her for the next week.

While they could not stop their eldest from taking the operation as Fleur was legally an adult in their society, Jacques and Apolline Delacour saw no reason to change themselves at such a fundamental level. They were mature adults and happy enough with themselves and their lives. While there was always a concern when a loved one goes into surgery, they were resigned to allowing their daughter to proceed.

They could and did stop Gabrielle from following Fleur's footsteps. "Not yet, ma chere, not yet. If it works for your sister, then we will consider it." Gabrielle's every wile and stratagem failed her. Her father would not be budged and she knew better than to try with her diplomat mother.

Since the surgery was safe with the way the Clan did it, Fleur and Yvette were up and about just as quickly as anyone else had been. Gabrielle gave her parents a triumphant smile, knowing that her turn would come. A week later and it was her time under the knife.

It was a very nervous Gabrielle who woke up feeling very strange. She had been told about the new energy, that she would get training in it, but the reports didn't prepare her for it, they couldn't. She woke up feeling that she wasn't the same girl who went to sleep and she was afraid her parents would reject her.

Her eyes flew open as first her father, then her mother, then her sister all hugged her as she lay there in the bed. Tears came to her eyes as she realised all her fears were for nothing. Apolline was a student of human nature and she would never reject her daughter so she knew these first moments were crucial to preventing problems later. Her husband Jacques hadn't needed her prompting to give his baby girl a hug.

While their son was still young, he was already growing up into a proper heir to his name, something that warmed his heart, but he was closer to Gabrielle than his other two children. He had raised her while Apolline was out of the home working, and as yet she hadn't started school and spread her wings.

He gave Gabby another hug, feeling the time of her departure was approaching far too soon.

Harry came back to something he wasn't entirely expecting: respect. He found that his parents were treating him with a lot more respect than before.

When he asked about it, Anko told him bluntly "You were kidnapped, knocked out, surrounded by adult enemies who, last time around, nearly brought their country to its knees. What did you do? You escaped from all of them. You took out their leader as a distraction and you made it back without any injury from that combat. You even managed to identify many of them beneath their masks and took a prisoner into the bargain that you kept alive and in condition to talk. You did a whole lot in a very short time, not freezing, not allowing your justifiable anger to control you but rather you kept your head, adapting to the changes and won."

Harry nodded. "Sure, but they weren't that tough. I wouldn't rate it higher than a B-Rank mission except for the surprise involved. You've all taken me through S-Rank ones and I didn't get this treatment."

"The key difference, Harry, is the S-Rank ones were simulations. We knew it and you knew it. The worst you would suffer was some pain and inconvenience. This was real in that one way we could never make the simulations real. The stakes were real and you performed great.

"That's why none of us have said much about the risk you took with Pettigrew. You were there, we were not, and you had to make the call. From what we've seen, based on what you knew it was a significant risk although our later analysis suggests it was far safer than it appeared to you. We believe you could have killed all of the criminals, almost certainly any who stayed were at your mercy, at the cost of exposing yourself to unknown counter-attacks. That you held back from that has the advantage of keeping them in the dark about your abilities and not risking you being put on trial for the mass murder of so many 'respected members of society.'"

Harry nodded, understanding her points, then gave her a surprisingly strong hug. "Thanks, I had been wondering if it was something like that. As for their threat level, you're right, I really overestimated them. My clones stayed around, leading them in circles for almost an hour until they gave up and left, arguing with each other. They were about as coordinated as a bunch of cats while they were hunting my clone, they were slow to cast their spells compared to how many attacks I could throw without chakra, and they were almost blind at night compared to me.

"It's strange. I know they have magic to improve their senses but none of them thought to use it. Or maybe they don't know to use it that way. Even the spells they were casting weren't mastered." Harry pondered the thought. "Still, that means there are a number of ways for them to improve greatly while I am unable to develop much in comparison. They'll be able to catch up."

Anko nodded, pleased. "A good analysis. Rumour has it that they're already training to work on their poor casting. No word yet that they are looking to improve their spell selection, not yet at least. Amelia's already looking to get warrants to search the homes of those you identified but it's slow going. By the time they are granted, they've already cleared out just about everything of interest."

"True, but it does force them to stay on the move." Harry's tone was that of someone determined to find a silver lining.

"It also means they are reacting more than acting. There has already been a 'mysterious' drop in 'muggle baiting' incidents."

Harry noted that his other parents were drifting in and the real debriefing began. It was very satisfying to the green-eyed young man to be treated far more as an equal by his parents. There was no hint about him being greater in experience or skills than them but they did listen to what he said in a different way from before.

He finally put his finger on it as he was cuddling with Luna afterwards. The Jewels had just accepted Angelique as a full member, declaring her probation over and that she had passed with flying colours.

"Welcome to our family." Angelique showed her appreciation, crying happy tears and accepting hugs from all her sister Jewels.

As the real Harry watched Angelique leave to fix her makeup, he realised what the change was. His experience counted to them as real. He could accept that.

The papers were carrying the campaign against Fudge even further than expected.

While the Potter Alliance did have some control over the paper, it was rather thin. They couldn't push too hard on any particular issue or their rivals would rightly accuse them of doing just that. Worse, people would stop trusting it after it's 'new, cleaner and better' start or simply not buy it. It didn't matter what the paper printed if no one read it.

They had done what they could to put pressure on Fudge who was surprised that the Daily Prophet was no longer responding to Ministry pressure. They reached that limit but the groundswell of opposition had barely started.

June the twelfth saw the resignation of a sitting Minister for Magic, leaving not because of a rival with deep pockets, not because of a Dark Lord, but a genuine popular movement roused in opposition to the blatant corruption. The politicking and campaigning kicked into a higher gear with the election set for five weeks away, July the seventeenth.

Dumbledore was almost as surprised and upset by the removal of the Minister as Fudge himself. Not about the details, Ministers came and went but Dumbledore had survived them all. No, it was that it had come so quickly and he hadn't planned for it. Albus was encountering difficulties reforming his Order of the Phoenix. He couldn't regain the services of Lupin or Black for obvious reasons. Neither of them were on speaking terms with him after he had broke laws to fire one and imprison the other, as they saw it.

Neither of them would follow the Leader of the Light, instead attaching themselves to the new faction that had coalesced around Harry. That was another of his worries. He still didn't know just what had happened in that graveyard, the DMLE being worryingly stubborn about his requests for information.

When he had opposed that excitable Bones woman's demands to investigate incidents at his school, it had been from a position of strength legally and politically. Now, Albus was facing a situation where he was the one having to get information from her, not the way things should be, and worse that she may just prevent his good friend Elphias Doge from becoming the next Minister. Albus had had precious little time for his school, handing off the rest of his administrative load to Minerva. Another young woman who had turned away from his leadership but still devoted to the students.

Yes, it was a good idea of his to give her the opportunity to work harder for them.

As it happened, Minerva McGonagall agreed that having more control over Hogwarts was a good idea but it broke down when it came to having the time to do everything. She already had three other jobs, after all, and for years she had done none of them as well as she had wished. She simply hadn't had the time after Albus failed to replace her assistant who had fled Britain and the Wizarding World in general during the rise of Riddle. It hadn't been as bad with only a third as many students as the school was supposed to teach, but one of the constants of their world was that after each Dark Lord, there was a surge of new students around a decade later. That surge of students was now flooding Hogwarts' gates each year, drowning any thoughts she might have had of free time or, at times, sleep.

That was one reason she had seized upon some of the opportunities made possible by Harry Potter.

First of all, her clones were handling all her paperwork, saving her from the perennial ache in her right hand she had been suffering. No more would she have to sacrifice her hand to fixing homework from some overeager young Ravenclaw with more enthusiasm than command of the written language.

Next, the regular paperwork created by the detentions served, homework assigned and permission forms needed were flowing smoother and faster than ever before. The time needed for doing her job as Deputy was reduced further by the fact that her clones' hands didn't tire at all.

Lastly, with her jobs as Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor being handled better than ever, she could spend more time on her Head of House duties.

All of that added more stress, however. That's why, with the students gone and summer heating things up, she was so glad to take a certain opportunity not related to any of her jobs at Hogwarts.

Harry looked down at his Transfiguration Professor and grinned. Those Weasley twins loved their pranks but they would never envision something this outrageous. He was looking down at Minerva McGonagall with only some rather modest undergarments on as he heated up the oil to massage her. She had dropped the glamour she always wore, revealing a form that non-magicals would assume was an attractive woman in her mid thirties, to allow Harry to do the job right.

"Ohh that feels so good, Mr Potter." Minerva found her eyes closing in bliss.

"I think you can call me Harry as normal, Minerva." Harry told her.

"Ok, Harry." Minerva groaned as his hands got to work.

"You are doing so much for Hogwarts, Minerva. Just what does Dumbledore do there beyond getting paid?"

"That's actually a good question. I know he presides over the feasts, makes some of the announcements and has control of the wards."

"Isn't that more of what he gets rather than what he does?" Harry inquired. "My impression is that he enjoys those most of the time."

Minerva hummed and drifted for a time on the bliss of the massage. Harry had to check that she was still awake. "Yes, I believe he does see them as benefits of his office."

"So the question stands, what does he do for the school? You are already doing his job and all three of your own."

"And better than ever, thanks to your help." Minerva replied.

"Thank you." Harry said.

"Oh," she groaned as he worked at a stubborn knot of tension, "the pleasure is mine."

"So what is stopping you from becoming Headmistress in your own right?"

"You know, I don't think I've ever thought I really would. Albus has always been there."

Harry hummed. "That makes sense. Would you be willing to do it?"

"If I did, I would be able to get rid of some of the Merlin be damned paperwork onto MY Deputy wouldn't I?" Her laugh was carefree, a side-effect of the relaxation she felt.

"Of course!" Harry laughed along with her. After the massage was complete and they were taking their tea outside in the cool breeze, Minerva thought more about the idea. It really would be the answer to a lot of problems causing her stress right now.

The idea percolated in Minerva's head for another three days before she brought it up with anyone. The first person she asked about her radical idea was her old colleague Filius Flitwick. He was old enough that she didn't automatically think of him as a student, something that still happened to her with other wizards and witches like James and Lily or even Amelia Bones, someone she would always remember as a somewhat scared little Firstie who turned her match into a noodle, having confused the instructions.

When she described the idea, Flitwick looked at her stunned. "Do you know, I have trouble picturing anyone else as Headmaster? I remember Armando Dippet but Albus is the only image I get when I think Headmaster without a surname. I wonder why that should be?" He came back to himself and looked again at his old friend.

"I think that if we had been having this conversation only a few years ago, I would have said no. I'm sorry, Minerva, but neither of us were really doing our jobs as well as we could, only marking time. Since then, you have been handling the work much better and you are doing your job as Head of House again.

"There were people in my House who were glad they hadn't been put in Gryffindor because they felt you weren't a Head of House at all." Minerva looked shocked and upset so Filius made sure to cheer her up. "I haven't heard anyone say that since the Basilisk incident, however. You learned from your mistakes and you are doing it right again, listening to your students."

Minerva smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Filius. So do you think I should do it?"

"I think you would do a good job, Minerva. Whether you should do it or not is a different question, one that I can't tell you. I will help you whichever way you go."

"Oh that is ever so helpful." Minerva replied sarcastically.

"All part of the service." Filius said as he smiled.

She had thought more on what he had said. While Filius didn't come out and tell her to do it, it seemed that he liked the idea. Minerva was sure that a big factor in why he hadn't said it outright was that Minerva was known to be averse to politics or at least most politicians. She did admit to herself that he had a point. If she took on the job, she would come face to face with it every time she dealt with the Board, every time she made a change to Hogwarts.

The difference was that thanks to the Shadow Clone technique, she now had more time than ever before to think, to act, to recover. That gave her an incredible advantage when dealing with people who couldn't get that extra time. Moreover, she would have the support of Harry's parents and others who thought in political terms from within the Alliance. Minerva had been sorted into Gryffindor but even the bravest of people felt better with their friends standing behind them.

As she came to that realization, Minerva spotted two of her colleagues also at Harry's home, Aurora and Septima. They waved her over, including her in their discussion about their latest toys, some sort of advance in computers that would make their own lives easier. Minerva had tried to understand but between her ignorance of technology, something which she was working to reduce, and her own distraction she failed.

"What's wrong, Minerva?" Septima asked her distracted boss.

"Oh, I was just thinking about something else, I am afraid."

"Would it help to tell us? It's not like we're busy and I like a good puzzle." Septima replied.

"Maybe it would at that. I was thinking about Hogwarts and the Headmastership. Merlin knows Albus isn't there enough to do the job right, even if I did trust him as much as I once did. It's effectively vacant with much of the work shuffled off onto, well, me."

When they nodded, she took a breath. "So that makes me Headmistress in almost everything except name. Should I get the name, too?"

The pair were surprised, of course, but supportive. "If you want to do it, go for it." Septima said. "I think you would make a good Headmistress."

"You would also be able to start fixing the school. You wouldn't believe how different things are in the regular world." Aurora began. "They hold courses on how to teach, how people think and all sorts of things. They also have to be able to teach and work well with children," she finished darkly, thinking of Lockhart, Snape, Binns and others.

Septima continued, interjecting. "Mr Potter's parents did a fair job of helping me understand how far behind we are, and not because of them being Muggles and us Magicals. Instructors must be held accountable in their eyes. Not only must they have the equivalent of post-NEWT level education focused on how before being allowed to teach, they are held to higher standards of behaviour, especially for criminal behaviour. They can't hide behind the walls and sovereignty of Hogwarts and refuse Ministry intervention."

Minerva's thoughts went in a similar direction, cursing to herself as she realised that as much as she wanted to, she couldn't get rid of all the bad teachers at once, or even one of them, without a suitable replacement lined up.

It all came down to the details, as always.

The party that had followed Fudge's resignation Monday morning was a truly spur of the moment thing. That didn't stop it from being elaborate in decoration or epic in scope when the Clan decided to celebrate it in style.

They had hired out a hall in London, not terribly far from the Ministry building, and invited not just all of the Potter Alliance but all of the people now working for the Lily Potter Foundation. In all, over a thousand witches and wizards and their children were invited and those working for the Clan in any capacity had been given the day off to attend the party if they wished or simply take the time off.

For Harry and the Jewels, they were expected to put in an appearance but clones were perfect for that. While their clones were chatting and being seen and even having a decent time with their friends, the real girls had disappeared to 'their' wing of Harry's home. They were dancing and cuddling, even reclining with Harry feeding them by hand from the platters of food set aside for them. The exuberant atmosphere, something that according to the adults reminded them of the fall of Voldemort, affected their kids no less and the Veela were no more immune than the rest.

Inevitably, that sense that the normal rules didn't apply soon saw their Allures allowed out to play.

That was alright as the Jewels had been developing something of a tolerance to it thanks to the repeated exposure and thanks to the Yamanaka defensive techniques Harry had been sharing with them. That muted the effect on the others but nothing diminished how sexy Fleur and Yvette looked as they took turns kissing Harry while one of his clones was laying back with Angelique plastered to him, showing all of them that she was just as much in love with their man as any of them.

The party outside eventually ended after dinner but the Jewels had lost track of time and the ability to care as they loved each other.

The next day, it was a different story. Megan Jones woke up in bed with Leanne while she had Harry behind her. Megan's first thought of the day was how beautiful Leanne looked, peacefully asleep and with a faint smile from what she could see, and how right it felt to hold her. Her second thought was how great it felt to have Harry's strong arms around her and she snuggled down closer to him.

As she got up to have breakfast, it struck her just what she had done. She was in bed with Harry and another girl and thought holding Leanne felt right.

It hadn't been about Harry, or even how sex with them both was fun, but that it was the right thing to do. Her family hadn't put up much of a fuss when she became Harry's girlfriend, seeing that there were strong feelings on both her and Harry's parts, but she felt certain that they would be hurt to think she loved her co-girlfriends in the same way as she loved Harry.

It was just taboo in their society. The Wizarding World didn't acknowledge lesbians.

Megan's self-confidence and happiness was breaking apart as her mind started rebelling. Could she really be happy if she was breaking so many of the rules she was taught? Did she have the right to do it when news of it would hurt her family? Could she give up the love she felt for her family for Harry and the others? Could she give up Harry and the others for her family? Her mind reeling, Megan mechanically ate her breakfast, not tasting the delicious flavours. She was sitting between Harry and Leanne since that was the easiest path and she didn't have the attention for other things at that point, but when she did realise her position she had to fight back tears.

Harry reached out to hug her and she held on instinctively, the crying breaking free and he carried her to the lounge, holding her tenderly. "What's wrong, Megan? Have I done something to hurt you?"

"No! No, you haven't hurt me, Harry. I'm just so confused! I don't know what I want. Except I do! But I can't have it. I shouldn't have it, should I?" Megan's words tumbled out.

"I don't know, Megan, why don't you tell me what you want?"

"I want you, Harry. I love you so much and I truly do want you in my life. But- I don't know if I should! I love you and I love Leanne and Susan and Hermione and Hannah and well, all of you. And that's wrong! Isn't it? That's what the Wizarding World says it is."

"I don't think it is, Megan. There's a lot of things that they are wrong about, like being inherently better people because of magic, or thinking that Quidditch is a sensible sport," Harry gave her a lopsided smile, "but they aren't wrong about everything. I happen to think they are wrong about us, about our love for each other. We aren't hurting anyone else or each other. There's only love."

Megan nodded as his words made sense, and yet. "You're right, we do love each other. But I'm not sure I can keep doing this any more. Last night, when we all started having sex, I didn't go straight to you but to Meaghan. She's a beautiful girl, very sexy and lovely but I should have gone to you instead. I know why I did it. I wanted to make her feel good. But-" she trailed off, embarrassed, "it should have been you. And if I stay, I know I will do that again sometime."

Megan looked as guilty and miserable as she felt. Harry did his best to talk to her, to assure her that he didn't think any less of her. It helped but didn't cure her problems and she couldn't ask the others about it. She loved them too much to hurt them that way, and seeing them only reminded her of her problem.

She kept to herself for much of the morning, thinking hard on her life, before coming out again for lunch. She cuddled up to Harry and hid away from the Jewels. It was clear to them that she had a problem but they couldn't help her.

Megan found herself that evening going to bed with Harry and no one else, kissing him goodnight and falling asleep with her head on his chest. Her last thought before sleep overtook her was that she missed having the others there with her.

Her dreams that night started out fine, she was at her wedding to Harry, only the other girls were there too. Right as she was about to exchange rings, she noticed that instead of Harry's hand, she was holding Daphne's and the other girl was radiant. Looking around, Megan saw the hurt and disappointment on her mother's face, the tightness of anger on her father's as he was publicly shamed by his little girl and the absence of so many of her friends. Looking forward again, Daphne had disappeared too and she was left all alone, the ring falling to the floor and clattering loudly.

Megan sat up, the nightmare fresh in her mind as she gasped for breath, Harry already holding and caressing her. Before she knew it, she was telling him about the vision and he was assuring her that it wouldn't happen, none of them would leave her. She believed him, believed in him and his love for her, but when she got back to sleep, the nightmares returned.

This time, she was straddling Luna's legs, kissing the ethereal girl when her parents walked in on them, shouting at her while her mother cried. The rest of her family also came into her room, expressing their own feelings on her love for Luna even her great uncle who had died when she was little.

She opened her eyes, Harry brushing away her tears as he gazed at her showing his concern and love. "Would you like me to use one of the techniques I was taught to help with nightmares, Megan?"

She nodded and when she fell asleep this time, it was with Harry's arms around her, her lips on his neck and some peace in her heart, trusting in Harry. Whatever he did, she didn't know, but she remembered no further dreams that night.

Megan was still troubled come the morning but at least she felt up to talking to the others about it.

The Jewels were surprised by what they heard, and a few of them admitted to having similar moments of doubt and pain, notably Tracey and Sophie having them on multiple occasions, though they had kept it to themselves. For the other girls, it was simple enough. They did love the others and they didn't want to give that up for a society whose morals they didn't respect any longer. Their society told a boy or girl at eleven "Here is magic! You can do it, too, but you'll never be as good as us because we were born to it, you're only second class no matter if you learn more, study better or have more magic." That attitude was bad enough. That it had become so casual about violating the lives of others who didn't have magic that they complained when that didn't happen, was too much.

They still had the love of their family who suspected but didn't know for certain about certain of their activities. They still had friends. And they had more opportunities than ever before. All of that for staying with Harry Potter, the wizard they loved, and with his other ladies, made it easy in the end to choose.

For Megan, however, she found it wasn't so easy. Maybe if she had come to this moment earlier it would have been ok, perhaps before hearing about Riddle's resurrection. 'And wasn't that scary enough in its own right when the evil man had terrorised and killed so many people, and how dozens of Death Eaters were still free, still able to spread his message of hatred, terror and death.

'Can I risk my family being shunned right when we needed protection the most? Shouldn't I try to be normal?'

That day and the next, these questions were never far from her thoughts and as Thursday came to a close, Megan asked to speak to all of them. Her misery was plain to see but she was resolute.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I will have to leave. I can't stay, not when it's eating me up inside. I feel so guilty for loving all of you in the same way I love my- I love Harry. I have to go-"

Her explanation, such as it was, was cut off by Hermione, Susan and Daphne who had moved in and put her at the centre of their hug. Any protest she would have made died in her throat as she felt the waves of comfort and, yes, love from them. She looked around, seeing them sad but no sign of recrimination for her choice.

As the Jewels came up, giving her hugs and kind words of support, she found her tears spilling faster as her emotions overwhelmed her. They weren't all bad ones, just powerful, and she felt the pain in her chest easing. Last of all was Harry, who looked like he was going through the wringer too.

"Oh Harry." Megan moaned and buried her head in his chest, holding onto him for dear life. His arms were like bands of steel around her, holding on just as tightly. A time later, she looked up at him, reaching up with her left hand and pulling him down for a final kiss goodbye. When she broke away, she wiped away at her tears and sighed. She walked to her room, packing up her things and headed back home, taken by a serious Black who Apparated them to the road just outside her house.

She trudged up the front stairs, thanked Sirius and headed inside straight to her bed where she cried herself to sleep. As much as it was her choice, it still hurt like hell.

Megan wasn't the only one in pain. Her loss had affected all of them to greater or lesser degrees and they responded by getting as close as they could, one big pile of Harry and his Jewels cuddling and reassuring themselves and each other that they were still there. They shed their own tears for their loss, comforting each other in their misery.

One of the things that helped them on the surface to get through the break-up was all the last-minute preparations for Sirius' wedding to his girlfriend and fiancée of two years, Mary Davidson.

The pair were obviously in love and to the surprise of those who knew him as a student, Sirius Black was happy about settling down. Ecstatically so, in fact. The only problem he had wasn't with his fiancée or with his decision but with an injury he suffered nearly twenty years earlier. Intellectually, he could agree that his actions that day weren't perfect but emotionally he still blamed Snivellus for that blasted potions 'accident'.

All the Marauders knew it was no accident at all but it was impossible to prove, not with Dumbledore refusing to investigate properly and blocking any calls to the Aurors. By the time James' parents could get anyone to look into the matter, it was too late to undo the damage. The Healers at St Mungo's had managed to restore all function and sensation, everything except for his ability to have children.

The greasy git had never apologised, never acknowledged he had done anything wrong and even protested the handful of points he had been docked for his 'clumsiness'. Sirius knew that his soon-to-be-wife didn't hold it against him and it had certainly had its uses over the years, allowing the wizard to sleep with any witch he could charm out of her knickers without worries like the lady getting pregnant from a bit of fun. He'd even slept with a few married witches who had used his condition to get around their wedding vows to men they hated in order to feel sexy again.

But it came home to him now as never before that he would never have kids of his own no matter how much practice he and Mary had.

He had tried to understand some of the Muggle - that is, some of the medical developments made in fixing reproductive problems, but he lacked the fundamentals and didn't have the kind of drive for pure knowledge that would let him truly comprehend their work. What he did know was that their doctors had some treatments that couldn't help him back then.

They had tried.

Sirius wanted to give Mary children to raise. He knew she would be a wonderful mother, but there was no way he could give them to her, and the inheritance laws for the Black family fortune meant he couldn't transfer it to her name since she was a 'dirty Muggle' nor could any child inherit without Black blood.

It was with these worries in mind that he sought out his old partner in crime Remus and his own godson Harry.

Remus tried to cheer him up with pranking his hair Slytherin green and silver but other than a reflexive change of Remus' nose to a pig's, it did nothing for his friend. Harry took a different path, producing a bottle of Laphroiag for the two Marauders and a coke for himself, along with three glasses. The resulting smile on both their faces told him he had made a good start with the whisky.

Once they had sipped their drinks and admired the taste, Harry looked over at Sirius. "Ready to tell us, Paddy?"

"Just about, Harry." Sirius smiled back, taking another sip and savouring it. "It's one of the few stories of our time at school that Moony and I never told you. Merlin knows I've done my best to forget about it ever happened. But the wedding next Saturday brings it all back to me." Another fortifying sip and he looked down, whispering through his pain. "I can't have children. I can't continue my family name, such as it is."

Harry listened and let his godfather talk.

"Mary knows. I couldn't not tell her. We've talked about adopting but there's a problem with that. I can't leave them any of the Black money to make their lives better. I can only leave that money to someone with Black blood. Right now, the normal lines of succession put my cousins next, which is why I made Andromeda Tonks my heir. Still, I remember how James looked at you when you were born, how proud he was, and I want that for myself."

Sirius unburdened himself to his godson over the next hour who proved to be a far better listener than his father. At the end, having confessed his fears and doubts, Harry offered to help his 'Uncle Padfoot' any way he could. Sirius was touched by the gesture but dismissed the idea. No one could help him.

With that issue put to bed, Sirius got fully into the spirit of things again, helping Mary pick out details and make decisions and bankrolling the kind of wedding she wanted.

In another part of the country, preparations of a decidedly different nature were coming to their climax. At midday on the twenty-first, the summer solstice, a magically powerful date for empowering rituals of all sorts, the wraith-like would-be Dark Lord was due to get a new body.

The self-styled Lord Voldemort had made sure to follow one of his duller but powerful Death Eaters back to his manor, slipping past the wards thanks to his magical connection to the owner of the property, and whispering in his dreams tales of power, glory and respect from all. This particular Death Eater was no Crabbe or Goyle but neither was he cunning enough to see the trap.

The tale was a lie but it contained a core of truth, a ritual to create a new body for the discorporated Riddle. All it cost was blood from a unicorn, a dragon and a Re'em and the life of the brewer. Riddle wasn't foolish enough to inform his minion of the final detail. The ritual itself would take that price without his help. The reason he hadn't used this in the first place was that he would not have all his old power plus a measure of his 'enemy's' power, instead he would start out only as powerful as he had been before his power-boosting rituals, Light or Dark, and would need to redo all of them if he intended to regain his prowess which of course he did.

The ritual also required the willing sacrifice of a life. That in itself wasn't a problem for Voldemort but the first method didn't cost him a minion if it failed. At the time he only had the two available, one spy of questionable loyalty but somewhat competent and one fanatically loyal to him and also somewhat competent if marginally less so than the former. Both of them were now unavailable to him, hidden from his best scrying spells and spies and, presumably, telling what they could. Riddle's spirit smiled coldly to himself. 'Not that they would be getting much out of either of them,' he thought to himself arrogantly.

In a way, the wizard was right, they wouldn't get much out of them but only because they already had got everything they could.

As the primary victim, Harry had been given some input into the disposition of their cases. In a move that surprised some, Harry wanted to delay their trials until he could be sure of justice being served rather than bought.

Rather than putting the accused in Azkaban or somewhere else, the DMLE under Madam Bones had dosed them with Draught of Living Death, a potion that put the drinker into a form of suspended animation, after interrogating them both with Veritaserum and with more physical means. The use of physical coercion was something that wasn't covered by Ministry rules and regulations in another example of their institutional bias against anything non-magical and since the Draught of Living Death didn't harm the body, its use wasn't against the rules either. The right to a speedy trial had also somehow 'slipped' from the books, even for Purebloods. All that the law required was that they be questioned within a reasonable time, as defined by the Director of the DMLE, and that they not exceed a maximum exposure to the effects of Dementors before their trial.

These were all things that were added to the list of needed reforms.

Unfortunately, their activities and the politicking and campaigning for the Minister's job all took time, energy and attention away from watching over 'reformed' Death Eaters. When a pureblood wizard who was all but retired from public life failed to make it to a meeting with his business partner, the other wizard grumbled then went back to work.

Thus, no one was the wiser when Lord Voldemort got back onto his feet, finally having feet to get onto. The newly incorporated Dark Lord used his knowledge of his minion's home to get started on boosting his power. He also made a note to contact his Inner Circle, particularly Lucius Malfoy. After he was back in shape magically and had absorbed Lucius' allies into his ranks, Voldemort knew just who would feel the wrath of the risen Dark Lord. It would show those fools that he had earned their fear and respect and better yet, this one move would take out one of the biggest threats to his plans as well as sow chaos amid the only group that could get in his way.

He had a decade's worth of terror to sow and this time there was no Mudblood bitch to stop him.

That Boy-Who-Lived just got lucky and his luck would run out.

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