Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to the proverbial Duchess of Magic, JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. No matter how much I whine about not owning anything related to the HP universe, other than a few fanfic plots, I do not profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world... Damn it!
Chapter Three - Bringing Him Home
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When Sirius had arrived at the Grangers' it was late morning.
As Hermione had hesitantly begun to speak of what happened in the magical world - not just what she was involved in, but others as well; especially Harry - none of the three adults were willing to stop her while she was still freely speaking to them.
However, after she wrapped up second year it was then one o'clock in the afternoon. Sirius suggested they stop to give Hermione a chance to soothe her throat and Sandra suggested they stop to have lunch. She immediately invited Sirius to join them, who promptly accepted.
After eating, an again reluctant Hermione had to be again prodded to start telling them what happened in third year. However, for that year, Sirius was able to add to what had happened from his point of view.
It was during then that Sirius had called Dobby and had the little elf bring both he and Hermione a throat soothing potion.
"Dobby's with you now?" asked Hermione. "You haven't made him a slave, have you?"
Sirius sighed and said, "Miss Granger, house elves are a cursed species; believed cursed by the Great Merlin himself. In order to live they need to be bonded. Unbonded house elves quickly waste away before they soon die in agony.
"They either have to bond themselves to a magical House or a place very rich in magic; and there's only three of the second in Britain. They are Hogwarts, the Ministry and Saint Mungo's. All other house elves must bond themselves to magical families.
"When Harry freed Dobby from Lucy Malfoy, unknown to Harry Dobby secretly and freely bonded himself to the House of Potter. If he hadn't, he would have died.
"As such, Dobby is willingly a house elf of House Potter. As I am now the Regent of House Potter, I could have freed Dobby. However, Dobby has begged me not to do that and, in respect for Harry, I will not do that.
"Do you understand?"
Hermione thought about it for a while before she quietly asked, "He would die?"
"Painfully," Sirius firmly returned.
"And no one knows how to free them of the curse?" she asked.
"Believe me, it's been tried," he said. "The curse is believed to have been done using the old and forgotten magics. And, with Merlin believed as powerful as he was, no one has the power to break it. However, all those who have researched it have come away from it with the belief it would be a bad idea, anyway.
"At the time Merlin cursed them, house elves were considered an evil race of beings. The wizarding world was at war with them... and the wizarding world was losing. It's why it is believed Merlin did it."
"I would still like to look into it," she quietly said.
"And you're welcome to," he returned. "I just ask that you research it before you get it into your head to try and fix it."
She nodded back.
"Anyway," said Sirius. "You were up to the part where Harry saw me drag Ron to the Whomping Willow..."
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Once Hermione had finally finished it was late afternoon and Sirius was again invited to stay for the meal; this time, dinner.
He thanked them, accepted and said, "This now brings me to the next reason why I'm here."
When the three Grangers nodded back, he said, "Firstly, do not worry about the hospital costs of Hermione's treatment at Saint Mungo's; I've already paid it."
As the three Grangers were shocked, it was Marc who spoke; blurted, really. "What?! Why did you do that?"
"Because your daughter, already knowing it was a likely trap of Riddle's at the Department of Mysteries, still went there with Harry to try and rescue me," he replied. "As such, I accept it was my responsibility, as Harry's magical guardian, to ensure she was both properly cared for at the hospital and to pay the costs. It was the very least I could do."
When the Grangers settled again, accepting, with even Marc nodding in acceptance, Sirius gave them the next bit of news.
Looking to Marc he said, "I take it from your reactions during Hermione's recollections that you will not be allowing your daughter to return to Hogwarts."
"Hell, no!" Marc blurted.
"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "But... daddy!"
"No, pumpkin!" he firmly returned. "Not just no, but Hell no!"
"But, daddy!" she whined. "I have to!"
"Actually, Hermione; no, you don't," Sirius calmly corrected her. "As you have completed your OWLs... and I have no doubt you've significantly passed all of them... you can withdraw from Hogwarts without having your wand snapped and you and your families' memories wiped.
"However, though I've explained what won't happen won't, as a witch who's only managed to complete her OWLs you will be in a poor situation to successfully secure a career. And, there, I have an answer."
While Hermione was clearly reluctant, both Marc and Sandra clearly wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Because of your position in my godson's heart... together with how you stood by him this past five years through everything he went through... I'm very prepared to give your parents an offer for you to attend school in the magical United States - at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
"Further, I will both pay for it and ensure you are provided with a permanent International portkey from there to here and back, if needed.
"That is, of course, unless your parents choose to emigrate to the United States, just to get the Hell away from the risk that is the recommencement of the Voldemort War. If they do, then I will provide all the financial assistance needed for them to accomplish that."
"But, that would cost a fortune!" said Sandra.
Sirius smiled back and said, "Funnily enough, I happen to have one. Actually, I have four of them. As well as indisputable ownership of the Black fortune, I also have full control of the Potter and LeStrange fortunes. Those three, together, have made me, by far, the richest wizard in the country; if not the world. The fourth is a Potter family secret, so I cannot even allude to it.
"Believe me; moving you, your household and your business to the United States would not even cost me one month's interest payments and dividends on one of those fortunes.
"Riddle knows Hermione to be a close personal friend of Harry. That has automatically made her... and you... a prime target of his. Now that he's come out of hiding, it isn't a matter of if he comes after you, only when. I see it as my duty to ensure you're outside the country and away from his clutches."
Stunned, the three Grangers did not know what to say.
Eventually, Marc said, "Wee'llll... have to discuss it... as a family."
Sirius calmly nodded back and said, "Of course. It's a big decision. However, you've now heard from Hermione just how dangerous the man and his Death Eaters are. I wouldn't dream of pushing you, but it would be a great relief to me and in Harry's memory if you accept.
"I do have one proviso, though. Hermione... and you... are to cut all communications with any of the Weasleys and Dumbledore; nor allow anyone to act as a go-between, including someone such as Minerva McGonagall."
"Oh, believe me," said Marc, quite emphatically. "That was going to happen, at any rate."
Hermione winced, but didn't retort or otherwise disagree.
The subject was dropped for the rest of the afternoon and evening through and beyond dinner.
Just before he left, though, Sirius told Marc that Dobby would be instructed to answer Hermione's call when they made their decision. They could pass a note to him via Dobby and Dobby would immediately deliver it.
Dobby turned up at Grimmauld Place with a note bearing their decision only two days later. Though Hermione was at first against it, she came around and her parents accepted. In the end, all it took was for them to remind her Harry would not be at Hogwarts, either.
They were gone within two weeks. Sirius had everything arranged through the goblins in Gringotts, MaCUSA; rather than Gringotts, London.
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Dumbledore, fully expecting to be reinstated as Chief Warlock and Britain's wizard-Ambassador to the ICW soon after it became apparent 'Voldemort' was indeed back, found himself utterly shocked when he wasn't.
The arrest and subsequent imprisonment for 'Life' of Severus Snape played only one part in that. When it became public, partly as a result of Snape's Veritaserum-driven statement that Dumbledore had deliberately cut all communications between the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and almost everyone else - and that cut in communications went a great deal towards why Harry ended up that night at the Department of Mysteries - no one was that stupid they did not quickly realise that Dumbledore's deliberate actions played a significant role in Harry's, their boy hero's, 'death'.
The only position Dumbledore managed to retain out the other side of it was the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts. And that was only because it was successfully argued by his law-wizard that the old man's dismissal as Headmaster was unlawful. What also went a long way towards Dumbledore keeping the position of Headmaster was that, while everyone now knew he was partly responsible for Harry's death, he was still the 'only' wizard Voldemort feared. Therefore, him being at Hogwarts and protecting the Heirs, their children, was where he 'needed' to be. It wasn't justice that had him retaining the Headmastership, it was the self-serving interest of the Members of the Wizengamot.
When he verbally railed against his denied reinstatement as Chief Warlock and Britain's wizard Ambassador before the Wizengamot, it was Augusta Longbottom who logically put forth that the position of Headmaster was a full-time position and Dumbledore really couldn't have time to properly attend to other full-time positions, such as being Chief Warlock.
She then further dug the verbal knife in by stating that 'traditionally' the Chief Warlock's seat was always held by one of the Lords of the Noble Houses. And Dumbledore only had a seat on the 'Mot (the Wizengamot) due to his earning the Order of Merlin. The House of Dumbledore was only a minor House, certainly not a Noble one. Dumbledore was utterly stumped for a logical rebuttal; because she was right and he knew it.
If anyone else had said it, he would have immediately done his damnedest to seek political revenge against them and fight for the seat. However, with Harry now 'proven' not to have been the Chosen One of prophecy to defeat Riddle simply by 'dying' and not by Voldemort's hand, he needed the somewhat elderly witch on his side to now mould her grandson, Neville, to be the One.
So, though he absolutely hated to do so, he 'magnanimously' and verbally acceded to her logical observations and didn't push it.
He left it for almost a full month before he began to subtly work on her about his training her grandson. That started with telling her and proving by use of a borrowed pensieve – now that the goblins of Gringotts had 'stolen' his - that there existed a prophecy it was Neville's 'duty to wizarding Britain' to complete.
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One of the last things the Grangers did as they were leaving the United Kingdom - their last British act, as it were - was to send Hermione's official notice of withdrawal from Hogwarts to Minerva McGonagall, together with her Prefect's badge.
Sirius had gone into the Ministry to speak with Griselda Marchbanks's people in the Wizarding Examinations Authority to find out exactly what the Grangers needed to do so there were no loopholes someone could exploit against them when she withdrew. It turned out she only needed to make sure she'd earned the minimum required number of OWLs - she'd earned far more than the minimum - and send a formal letter, signed by her guardians, to the Deputy Headmistress/master stating her intent to withdraw. While there he was also able to collect a certified copy of her OWL results.
Because Hermione was considered a muggle-born and her guardians were non-magicals, and it did not specifically state it wasn't meant to be anyone but her magical guardian who made that determination, Sirius requested and became her magical guardian via the Wizarding Children's Services. Then both he and both her parents, plus Hermione herself, co-signed the letter. Sirius then sent that letter using Hedwig direct to McGonagall, just as he knew the Grangers' aeroplane was taking off from Heathrow Airport.
When McGonagall received the letter, she carefully read through it and sighed in extreme disappointment before setting it aside. It joined a small stack of similar letters from others.
The letter covered everything that 'went wrong' and specifically listed out and numbered each law and/or school rule that was broken by the staff - especially the Headmaster and her - regarding her, Hermione, and what she personally and specifically witnessed.
It also covered how she now had her OWLs and was free to withdraw, but did not state she was transferring to Ilvermorny; and would be 'seeing what she could do to further her education in non-magical schooling', but did not state outright she would be attending a non-magical school.
In the past, McGonagall would have taken the letter direct to Dumbledore. However, after what came out of the trials concerning how much Dumbledore was to blame for Harry's death - and of which she knew herself to unwittingly being a party to - those days were over. In her mind, Dumbledore would now be told as little as possible.
She was already working out how to do that so he wouldn't know Miss Granger would not be attending Hogwarts until the First of September.
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―==(oIo)==―
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Another to receive a personal letter from Hermione, co-signed only by Sirius this time, was Professor Filius Flitwick. As well as being both a Duelling Master and the Charms Master of Hogwarts, he was also the Head of Ravenclaw House.
The letter detailed what they knew of the near-unrelenting bullying Luna was suffering from; the ongoing thefts of her personal effects, the verbal taunting, the deliberate destruction of her assignments and other school work, etcetera.
Then, in the letter, Sirius wrote it was to stop - immediately - or he would personally challenge the little Duelling Master to a public duel.
What really set a fire under Flitwick's bum to immediately do something about the bullying was the line in the letter from Sirius regarding the duel which stated: 'It will, of course, not be an honour duel; because anyone who would willingly allow a child under their direct care to be constantly bullied has no honour.'
And Flitwick did not wait until the students returned on the First of September to address the issue, either. For the magical-raised, he was on the floo and visiting students and their parents in their homes that very day. For the muggle-raised he went to their homes by apparation. It took him a few days, but he got it done.
His final visit was to the Rookery, Luna's home she shared with her father, to speak with her and her father about it.
Before he even asked her if it was going on - he didn't need to as he now knew it definitely was - he was offering his personal apologies to both her and her father for the way in which she'd been treated over her past four years.
"This stops immediately, Miss Lovegood," he firmly stated. "Even if it is, as you believe, the Nargles who are responsible you are to inform me immediately if it happens again. I believe that I will definitely be able to do something about it.
"However, I have already visited and spoken with a number of your fellow Ravenclaw students and they will now also be helping you and protecting you while at the school."
Luna, with tears of relief in her eyes, could only nod back and utter a very quiet, "Thank you."
Though not asked to, Flitwick had sent a letter back to Sirius informing him of what he had done and what would now be happening.
Sirius's response, less the headers and footers, was a short note of effectively only four words, 'It's about bloody time!'
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Once August rolled around, Ron's mother was now on his back to get his homework completed.
"Get it done or I'll let your father know you've not even started it," his mother declared. "You're already on probation within this family and you don't want to give your father any further excuse to kick you out of it."
As it had been over a month since his 'whipping' at the hands of his father, the memory of how much pain that had caused him had dulled. However, the memories of how he couldn't even sit for days afterwards had not faded.
Moping about it, he made his way up to his room.
However, instead of immediately setting-to and starting on his homework, he wrote a quick letter to Hermione to come visit 'so we can remember Harry together. And, Mum's okay with you coming and staying until we go back to Hogwarts. Isn't that great? It means you can get away from the muggles!'
Happy he'd not let on he really only wanted her to visit so she could help him with his homework - that is, actually do his homework for him - he took his letter over to Pigwidgeon.
After attaching it to the owl's leg he carried it over to his open window and said, "To Hermione Granger in London, Pig." Then he lofted the little 'featherball' out his window and away.
However, as he was about to close his window he noticed Pigwidgeon seemed to be flying about all over the place.
Frowning at it, he muttered, "Stupid bird."
As he then pulled out his books, assignment notes and clean stationery so they'd be on the desk and look like he actually was doing his homework if anyone walked in, he also pulled out a Quidditch magazine. He'd 'found' it in the Gryffindor commonroom the day they boarded the train to leave the school and had immediately stuffed it into a pocket of his robes as something to read over the break.
It must have been less than a minute later when he heard his Mum screech out, "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"
So surprised he almost fell out of the chair he had rocked back on while reading, he quickly scampered down to the kitchen and to his mother. That voice she'd used was the one that promised significant pain if it wasn't immediately attended to.
As he rushed into the kitchen his mother was glaring at him.
"Mum?" he warily asked.
Holding her off-hand aloft, Ron could see she was holding a crumpled letter in her hand.
"Explain to me, Ronald, why it is you think young Hermione needs to get away from the muggles? And, just when did I give my permission for her to visit here this year?"
Ron winced.
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―==(oIo)==―
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Dumbledore had just received a floo call from Molly that two owls they'd attempted to send to Miss Granger, both Pigwidgeon and old Errol, had failed to deliver and asked that he go and make sure she was 'alright'.
He was not informed, however, that Ronald had taken it upon himself to invite the girl to the Burrow; only that they'd tried to contact her.
Knowing that, as a member of the so-called Ministry Six she was now considered an 'important person' to Magical Britain, instead of informing Bones and having aurors check it out he decided to go himself.
After a quick check of his private address book, he transfigured his robes into 'appropriate' dress and apparated to the laneway near the house for which he already had the apparation co-ordinates. After a quick twist, squeeze and pop, he was there.
Following a quick look about to ensure he wasn't seen apparating in, Dumbledore gave a firm nod, slipped his wand into his belt and headed for the end of the laneway and into the street on which the Granger girl lived with her parents.
Five minutes later and he was standing outside the property, looking in shock at the large 'For Sale' sign sitting in the middle of the lawn and facing the street.
He hurried onto the property and quickly made his way to the front door. He knocked.
When there was no answer after fifteen seconds he looked about once more to see if he was being observed before he moved over to the nearest window with its curtains slightly apart.
A look inside told the story. Beyond the window was the sitting room; it was empty of all furniture.
He returned to the door, a quick Unlocking Charm and, "Alohomora," he was inside the house.
A few moments later he could see it wasn't just the sitting room that was empty, it was the entire house. The house was, as the sign proclaimed, vacant.
He apparated directly from the floor in the top hallway back to his office, wondering what to do next.
He decided to summon Minerva to his office to speak about it. As Miss Granger's Head of House he hoped she had some idea of what was going on with the Grangers. He sent her a message via Fawkes.
As soon as she arrived he immediately asked, "Minerva? Do you have any idea where Miss Granger has gone?"
"No, Albus," she returned.
That she did not seem surprised, he stared at her for a moment before he said, "You know something, though."
"Oh?" she asked.
With a barely concealed huff he explained, "You did not seem surprised when I asked you where Miss Granger was."
"That is because Miss Granger is no longer our concern," she returned.
Surprised, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"Like quite a few others she has withdrawn as a student of Hogwarts, Albus," said McGonagall. "As such, she is no longer our concern."
Angry at both how his Deputy was continuing to behave towards him with poorly concealed disgust and a succinct lack of respect, he demanded, "Why was I not informed?"
"You were," she flatly replied. "I told you I have already received over two dozen withdrawals, so far, this break. When I asked if you wanted them listed for you, you brushed me off as if it was unimportant.
"As such, it is your fault you did not know the girl had withdrawn."
"She has to attend!" he glared.
"No, she does not," she snapped back. "She has successfully completed her OWLs and, as such, her parents were fully within their rights to withdraw her from Hogwarts with no penalty. That is what they did."
That annoyed him as, legally, she was correct. "Did they inform you to where they were moving?" he demanded.
Somewhat surprised he'd asked, she replied, "No. Then again, they were under no obligation to do so. And I had no right to ask."
That last was a verbal slap at the old man and they both knew it.
"Ahhh...!" he growled. "Thank you, Minerva. You may go."
"Thank you, ever so much, Headmaster," she snarked back, before then spinning on her heels and stalking from the room.
Realising he was still dressed in his version of muggle wear, Dumbledore rose, cancelled the transfiguration and apparated to the Ministry. He was headed for the WEA to see if they had a new address for the girl.
He was annoyed to find that he was no longer receiving the fawning adoration he was used to. And the WEA, after first flat-out telling him he had no right to the information - to which he'd returned he needed it as Headmaster - finally informed him they had no forwarding address for the girl. (And, as she was a muggle-born, none of the staff could care any less they didn't.)
Foiled in his search, he headed down to the DMLE to report her as a missing child.
However, that didn't work when the Master Auror, who was reluctantly willing to hear his complaint, told him they 'would accept that under advisement. However, as he was not the lawful guardian of the girl, he had no right to any information relating to her'.
He needed the girl to be his unwitting spy on young Neville, as she was on young Harry, once the young man was made aware of his destiny; but she'd disappeared.
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It wasn't until the next day, when Molly floo-called him again to inquire about the girl's safety, when Dumbledore finally admitted to her that the girl had withdrawn from Hogwarts at her parents' behest and the family had moved homes. He'd completely forgotten that it was her contacting him that sent him to go and speak with the girl.
And, no, he did not know where they had gone; but suspected it was somewhere overseas. That was why the owls couldn't locate her.
When Ron found out, he panicked. And, in his panic, blurted how he wouldn't be able to, "... Complete my homework if Hermione doesn't do it for me!"
That earned him another bum-paddling and him then finding himself restricted to his room and the bathroom at all times, other than meals, until said homework was completed and checked over by either of his parents. He'd even had his magazines, chess set and other, non-school, texts removed from his room for the duration.
He also had to give a report before each dinner time to his father about what he had completed and what he was currently working on, in detail, before he was allowed to eat. And "Yeah, it's going good," and similar non-answers where flatly rejected. He had to give specifics.
When he did that the first night, concerning his 'History of Magic assignment' his father immediately sent him to his room to bring down what he'd told him he'd done, so that he could check it over.
His immediate blush in embarrassment, showing he'd lied, had him missing dinner as he waited out in the woodshed while the rest of the family ate. Then he received another bum-paddling from his father. Then he was sent to his bedroom without his dinner.
He didn't try that again. As far as he was concerned the bum-flogging was one thing, being forced to starve by missing dinner was beyond the pale.
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In her home only a short walk away from the Burrow, Luna Lovegood looked up and stared into space for a moment before she smiled and pulled yet another small slip of parchment towards herself.
She had yet another entry to stick into the first scrapbook she was working on. She knew she had quite a few to do after finishing this one, but it was both something she was happy to do and necessary for when Harry returned.
She knew so much had changed and was yet to change that he would be 'floundering' on his return without them.
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―==(oIo)==―
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Harry had been in his new home built in a grove of what could loosely be called 'trees' many hundreds of miles to the 'north' of the Chappa'ai on his planet; a planet he named 'Hadrian' simply because he liked the name and 'Harry's World' just sounded too much like a theme park. He thought it sounded more posh than his own and he had to call it something.
His new home was built as far away as it was because he found the land around the Chappa'ai to be far too hot, especially in the weird summer season the planet had; and it gave him some distance from the ring, so he wouldn't be surprised by visitors again.
He'd been on the planet for about eighteen months, he thought, when he saw these weirdly dressed folks come through the ring and, when he first approached them, they barked at him in a strange language. Almost immediately he recognised they were threatening him; with one bloke, who seemed to be their leader, look at him with white glowing eyes and speak in an echoing voice. Echoing voice or not he sounded and sneered so much like Draco Malfoy Harry snickered back in amusement.
That had one of the 'soldiers', as that was what they had to be considering the way they were dressed, point his staff at him.
When Harry saw the tip of the staff and back about two feet peel open and glow a bit, he apparated out of the circle of soldiers he was in and to the top of a nearby hill. It was the same hill he sat upon on the first night he was there and transfigured his goblet and filled it with water.
It was lucky he managed to get out when he did because, suddenly looking down at the ring of soldiers in which he stood, he was just in time to see what looked like a Blasting Hex jump from the tip of the staff and power right through where he stood. The two soldiers on the opposite side of the ring nearly got hit as the bolt of dark orange energy sizzled between them, travel a good sixty feet and impact the side of the ravine opposite where he now stood.
"Bastards!" he muttered. 'They're just like Death Eaters."
The one with the glowing eyes spotted him first, barked some sort of commands to the soldiers while indicating him and they, minus 'glowy eyes', then charged up the hill towards him.
They attacked him first, so...
Harry drew his wand and began rapid-firing stunners back down the slope.
He was surprised when they didn't even seem to throw up shields. Instead they kept jumping out of the way, while still continuing to hare up the hill. Every now and then one of them would stop, aim his staff at him and cast another very quick moving Blasting Hex towards him.
"Uh-huh!" he muttered, after shielding one that came a bit too close. Gathering his magic, he whipped his wand down and cast a powerful Blasting Curse right back.
This time the hex sizzled through the air before it impacted one of them and... blew him up. All that was left after the curse hit was a pair of legs and feet from the knees down.
That had everyone stop. Harry stopped and stared in horror at what he'd done, while the soldiers looked in shock at evidence of just how powerful the hand-held beam weapon the boy was using actually was.
Harry had quickly apparated across to the opposite hill, then spun about and threw up his last meal over the ground.
By the time he recovered and turned back, the soldiers had run back down the opposite slope, crossed the floor of the ravine and were then running up the slope of the second hill.
"Naff this!" he muttered.
Raising his wand again, he began casting as fast as he could. Stunners, Blasting Hexes, Tripping hexes, Disarming charms - he got three of them with that last one, causing their staff weapons to fly out of their hands and away – and whatever else he could think of.
Of the three bolts of energy sent back at him that came close, he shielded the first but wand-swatted the other two away. He hadn't even realised he'd done that.
Then he started walking back down the hill towards them. And they, after a quick checking-over of two of their companions who were down, were slowly backing back down while keeping a wary eye on him.
What Harry hadn't seen was the other one, the one with the glowy eyes was doing. He'd apparently, calm as calm could be, had walked over to the lectern thing and began to push buttons.
It was the sound of that rushing, bubbling water the ring made that had him glance over to it.
'Glowy Eyes' then barked something at the soldiers and they quickly turned tail and ran to him; leaving their friends behind.
That was the first time Harry had 'bumped into' the Goa'uld and Jaffa. It certainly wasn't the last.
It was only a day later they were back. This time there were a great deal more of them.
It then took him what felt like the better part of a year to drive them back off the planet again.
He'd taken to using his invisibility cloak he'd had on him in his mokeskin pouch, guerilla tactics, a whole lot of killing and using magic he had no idea he could possibly do until he tried it and it would work. He knew he'd managed to kill many hundreds by the time they left. And he had to kill them. Stunning only meant they'd come back at him again later. Even when he severely injured them, sooner or later they'd be back.
It wasn't until he managed to capture 'Glowy Eyes' by apparating into the man's tent, stunning him and taking him away again that they first stopped. He then managed to Imperius the man and have him order his troops to leave.
However, they were only gone for about a month before they returned.
This time he really let loose on them. He knew 'Glowy Eyes' was their supposed god. So he again captured him, took him back to his 'Safe Haven' far to the north and stripped him of all his magical items. Then, just like the previous time, he tied him to a metal chair before he revived him.
As 'Glowy Eyes' - Imhotep, the Goa'uld System Lord - railed at him with what harm would supposedly befall him, Harry then tried his own version of Legilimency on the... being. Taking a leaf out of Snape's play-book, he mind raped him so effectively he left the man no more thinking than a vegetable by the time he was finished. Instead of just 'breezing' through the man's thoughts and memories, he ripped them out and dropped them into his own mind.
From that he knew the Goa'uld, as he now knew him to be, would never stop throwing his slaves/soldiers at him until either Harry or he was dead. And he didn't fear death, as his minions would put his body in a sarcophagus and revive him again. Then he'd come right back again.
Knowing the only way to get the attacks to stop was to utterly destroy the body before him so it couldn't be revived by Sarcophagus, he side-along apparated with him right into the middle of the main Jaffa camp. He then dumped him in the middle of their camp out front of the Chappa'ai, as he now knew it to be called, then this time he burned the man to death right in front of his troops.
As the man died, Harry returned to the camp with a great flash of light, vanished the body and said, "Leave!" and pointed to the gate. "Leave, or die!" Then he cast exploding fireballs into the tents and apparated out.
He then sat on a hill under his invisibility cloak and watched their camp burn to ash as the Jaffa bolted for the now already activated Gate and ran through it.
They never returned.
However, in their barely controlled panic to leave they left a lot of things behind. Things he could use and was using until that robot thing showed up six months later; or what he thought was six Earth months.
In that six months he'd organised a whole lot of protections on both himself and his 'stuff'. He'd even cast an alert charm on the Chappa'ai that, if it activated, he'd immediately be alerted to it. It was his alert going off that drew him from his 'Safe Haven' home far to the north of the ring to see if it was more of those Jaffa blokes again. He'd apparated directly there and while under a Notice-me-Not charm.
He was shocked to see it was a robot tractor thing. And further surprised to see English written on the side of it. The writings he'd seen of what was written by the Jaffa and the Goa'uld looked more like a cross between hieroglyphics and Japanese pictographs to him than anything resembling English.
He'd hope that, whoever it was, understood his 'come here' gesture to the camera they'd aimed at him. It had taken him weeks to clean up his planet of all the rubbish the Jaffa had left behind and he didn't want to go through all that again. Two of those was his stripping and burying all the bodies they'd left behind before they rotted and stunk the place up. He knew he could have vanished them, but felt that was the wrong thing to do. They were slaves, not evil. He gave them a proper burial, if not funeral.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
In a military establishment deep under the Cheyenne Mountains in Colorado and not far from the small city of Colorado Springs, resided a couple of military installations. The most famous of which was the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) situated below the United States Northern Command (USNORTHCOM). However, even deeper than those, resided a small complex that put even the Top Secret levels of NORAD and USNORTHCOM to shame; it was known as Stargate Command (SGC). Even knowing it existed required a Top Secret clearance security level.
Three and a half years earlier, a small team of brave military personnel and experts in Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and society, ventured through what became known as the Stargate; an ancient device dug up from the desert not far from the city of Cairo, the capital of Egypt, in Giza.
After the first foray through the gate, where more than half the team were killed on a planet a fair way across the galaxy, the gate had been secured with certain safeguards. Those first explorers through the gate came back with proof that other planets were both populated with humans and with enemies it was not wise to allow anywhere near Earth.
A year later, July 1997, they were ready to once more explore through the gate.
While it took a year to put in place safeguards against others 'unwelcomingly' coming through the gate, the personnel were not letting the grass grow under their feet. They were training hard to be ready for when next the gate was activated.
Then, for the next two and a quarter years, they had become both very good at it and the teams were slimmed down. Their lead team, known as SG-1, now had four permanent members. They were Colonel Jack O'Neill; Major Samantha Carter; the archaeologist, Doctor Daniel Jackson (who, like Colonel O'Neill, was also a part of that first mission to the planet Abydos); and the 'First Prime' Jaffa (a genetically modified human warrior race who served possessed humans who called themselves gods) Teal'c, who'd renounced his 'false God', Apophis, to help the team escape when they were captured by the Jaffa very soon after gate travels were again activated.
That brought them to now, very late October 1999. As a matter of fact, it was Hallowe'en. They had not long returned from a moon called Ne'tu, in orbit around the planet of Delmac, where they had rescued one of their Tok'ra allies, Selmak. Only just beginning to wind down from that mission, SG-1 were called back to the complex meeting room for a new briefing only partway through their stand-down time.
As they walked in their commanding officer, General George Hammond, was already standing at the always-there star map, waiting. O'Neill, always quick with a witty remark, asked, "Miss us already, General? I thought we were on stand-down."
"You were," replied Hammond. "I hope you enjoyed your two days off and made merry. It's time to get back to work."
As the four members of SG-1 found seats at the oval table, all with a clear view of the general and where he stood before the large star map, Hammond waited for them to take their seats and slid a stack of four dark blue manilla files down the polished wood of the table. "There's your briefing notes," he declared, as each member of the team quickly snagged a copy for themselves.
Not even waiting for them to read them he said, "We received a quick message from the Tok'ra," he said.
"They want us to kill another System Lord?" snarked O'Neill. He was referencing how, during the rescue of Selmak, they had managed to kill the Goa'uld System Lord Sokar and, possibly, Apophis.
Hammond ignored it. "They've received intelligence that a... demon, they call it... has taken up residence on a planet. As you people were on stand-down, we sent through a MALP just to take a look at what was there."
Looking to the flat screen television mounted on the wall opposite, he raised a remote and clicked a button while pointing at it. "This is what we picked up."
It started an obviously recorded video feed from the MALP.
Within seconds of the MALP obviously reaching the other end of the wormhole and exiting the water effect of the event horizon, the MALP immediately began to transmit video feed.
The camera quickly scanned around, showing that the DHD dialing device was present and that the terrain was similar to that of the Colorado desert not far from their base; and not too dissimilar to the Baja Desert in Northern Mexico.
O'Neill piped up and said, "Looks like Arizona."
"I thought the Baja des― Holy crap!" exclaimed Doctor Jackson
The reason for the sudden exclamation was the sudden appearance on screen of a young human man. He seemed to appear as if from nowhere.
The camera of the MALP immediately focused on him as the clearly human Caucasian male looked back with an expression of curiosity on his face.
What was surprising was the way the young man was dressed. From the ground up he was wearing Jaffa boots and greaves, then tunic pants and under robe - the last two being the undergarments under Jaffa armour - Jaffa bracers on his wrists, then he wore a wide-brimmed raggedy hat with a floppy point that looked like a reject prop from a Lord of the Rings movie. He was also carrying a staff weapon in the ready position to shoot.
"Who does he think he is with a staff, robes and hat like that?" asked O'Neill. "Gandalf!?"
Jackson gave a snort of amusement. No one else even reacted. They were far too used to the Colonel's wry humour. Even Teal'c barely cocked an eyebrow at it, these days.
As they watched, the young man relaxed from his ready-to-shoot stance, switched hands with the weapon to his left and drew what looked like a thin stick of wood from under his left wrist bracer and began to hold it as if he wielded it like a weapon.
He then raised the stick and, making a couple of gestures with it, looked as if he was going to jab someone with it. At the same time the electronics on the MALP seemed to surge with static for a moment. The static faded away as the young man lowered his stick.
"Radiation?" asked Carter. "I thought the MALPs were shielded."
Clearly curious at what he was seeing, the man then carefully walked forward until he was close enough to better see. Then he bent down and was peering at something on the side of the MALP.
The five in the conference/briefing room then watched his lips move and frown even more.
That had Major Carter give a gasp of surprise. "He read what was written on the side of the MALP!"
"Yeah; so?" asked O'Neill.
Instead of responding, Carter glanced to the General and said, "Sir, please rewind to the part where he begins to bend forward."
Not even saying a word, Hammond did precisely that.
"Now, play, please," urged Carter.
As all five watched, Carter kept pace with the man on the screen and said, "Mobile Analytic Laboratory Probe." Her words matched perfectly with the young man's lips.
"That shouldn't be possible," said Jackson, leaning forward to better see. "No other planet we've so far visited have a peoples who could read English. Hieroglyphs, runes, even ancient Chinese, yes; but not English, not even Latinised Greek characters."
As they continued to watch the young man, they saw as he grinned directly into the camera seeming quite happy to see it. Then he jogged backwards about fifteen feet, making sure to stay before the camera field of view, slipped the stick back up under the bracer, raised his right hand until it was palm up and before him with a fist, knuckles pointing directly towards the camera, and proceeded to signal to the camera with the universal 'Come here' index finger repetitive curl and flex.
Then he grinned again, hefted the staff weapon up in one hand, balancing the weight perfectly with such ease if was obvious he had a lot of experience with it, then he ran towards the MALP before ducking off to one side.
The camera was immediately spun to see where he went but could pick nothing up.
"What the... Hell?" exclaimed O'Neill.
"That should not be possible, either," added a surprised Carter.
The General, turning the video off, had the team of four return to face him. Once he had their attention again he said, "When we recovered the MALP we found the camera was working perfectly across all bands of light, both into the ultraviolet and infrared ranges. Whatever cloaking technology he's using, we couldn't pick him up."
"Well," said O'Neill, "He doesn't look like a demon to me. How is this so important a matter a team like SG-3 can't attend to it, Sir?"
Hammond smiled and returned, "It's the location of the planet that's the most concerning. It's C1S-204."
"C1―" stuttered Carter, suddenly sitting upright and looking more closely to her briefing notes. "Sirius?!" she exclaimed.
"Wow! Way to snark the General, Carter!" exclaimed O'Neill. "I think the General's being quite serious."
"No; Si-ri-US," said Carter, not even looking up as she read through the briefing notes. "The binary star Sirius, S-I-R-I-U-S, also known as the Dog Star, brightest star in the night sky, of the constellation Canis Major. Straight line, a little over eight and a half light years away. Astronomically, our second-most closest neighbour after Alpha Centauri; practically in our celestial backyard!"
"Precisely," said Hammond. "As it's so close and... as Major Carter pointed out... in our celestial backyard, I need my best team on this right away.
"Your mission is to go to planet C1S-204, find out who this individual is, question him, scout around to see if there are any others... especially Jaffa... and, if necessary, bring him back here."
"What if he's alone, as the Tok'ra believe him to be," asked Jackson, looking up from his own briefing notes.
"Then we just talk to him," said O'Neill. "If he can read English, I want to know how and why."
When talking stopped for a few moments, Hammond said, "Well? What are you still doing here? Go suit up!"
That had all four moving.
As they walked out the door, Jackson asked, "Colour?"
"Desert!" O'Neill called back from in the lead.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
In a cylindrical house on the top of a hill near the town of Ottery St Catchpole, standing four floors up and one down and giving the appearance of a giant black rook out of a chess set with windows, a young lady of eighteen sat at a worktable in her bedroom on the fourth floor. It was Luna Lovegood at the Rookery.
She was currently going through, yet again, her set of scrapbooks she'd been working on whenever she had the time. Inside she'd carefully stuck in specific articles out of the Daily Prophet, wizarding Britain's only daily newsparchment, articles out of her father's semi-regular monthly newsparchment, the Quibbler, articles from overseas newsparchments, and other information she'd hand-written herself all related to information she was collecting. It was information she began collecting back in June 1996 very soon after Harry disappeared through the Veil of Death; also known as the Astra Porta, the Chappa'ai and the Stargate.
Suddenly she looked up and focused on something only she could see. As she sat there for a few minutes her expression slowly turned from one of focused intensity to one where she was relaxed and smiling.
"Not quite yet," she murmured. "But soon, Harry Potter. Welcome home."
She had work to do and time was running out.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
After assembling in the gate room fully 'kitted and booted', as they say in the military, the four waited as the gate was dialed by computer for them. It wasn't as fast as using one of the Dial Home Devices (DHDs), but it still worked.
Once the seventh chevron locked in and lit up, the gate activated.
A moment later, the gate on 'Hadrian' also activated.
Harry, who was already back at his home to the north, Safe Haven, felt the alert on the Chappa'ai trigger.
As a slow smile spread over his face, he packed up what he wanted to take with him into either his moke-skin pouch at his hip or a quickly transfigured backpack, donned it, donned his 'Sorting Hat' lookalike hat and apparated to a spot that was under a hiding charm behind the gate.
Using his version of a Notice-me-Not, he quietly walked around the Chappa'ai to ensure for himself who was there. After all, it could have easily been more of those Jaffa blokes.
Instead, he saw four people. They were all dressed in what he thought was US Army uniforms. With the exception of the big black dude who was also carrying a blaster staff, the other three were carrying really short looking sub-machine guns, ready to shoot. Not wanting to get shot, he watched them and carefully listened as they talked to one another and scanned the area with their eyes.
The older white man with hair beginning to grey, demanded, "Anyone see anything?"
'English!' Harry happily thought. 'American accents, too!'
"Nothing yet, Sir," replied the blonde haired and only woman of the four.
"Me neither, Jack!" declared the brown hair stocky guy with glasses.
"I do not see him, but I believe him to be close, Colonel O'Neill," said the black guy.
As the black guy, though he was wearing the same desert uniform as the three others turned towards Harry's direction, Harry saw a similar symbol as those Jaffa he'd fought had on their foreheads. However, his was in gold.
'First Prime,' he thought. He'd already encountered Imhotep's First Prime on a few occasions. Killed the first one, too.
Harry knew this was the leader of the Jaffa. At least, the one who had his forehead tattoo in gold was the leader of the ones who invaded his planet. He captured him first and used his version of Legilimency to get the information he wanted. The trouble was, it also killed the man when he'd done it. However, while it was distasteful, he was already well past the feeling of revulsion and horror that he first suffered from by killing a man when he'd captured him.
He'd needed that information and, though he managed to pick up some of the language they used, couldn't communicate with it or understand what one of them said when they said something to him.
When he'd also used it on 'Glowy Eyes' he found out he was actually possessed, though didn't understand how. He also knew the man to be thousands of years old, so he'd had a good life. He'd considered himself a god and the Jaffa were his personal army and slaves. If there could be anyone considered more evil than Voldemort, it was that bloke. That was why he no problem killing him by burning him alive in his camp and then vanishing the ashes. It sent a message to his slaves and to any others like him who tried to take his planet from him.
However, this Jaffa send to be - surprise, surprise - a friendly Jaffa. At least he was likely to be, considering he was working with these Americans.
He then listened closely to them talking as they seemed to be waiting to see if he turned up.
He heard the older man called 'Jack' by the younger man, 'Sir' by the woman and 'Colonel O'Neill' more formally by the Jaffa. He heard the younger man called 'Daniel' by both the older man and the woman, while the Jaffa called him 'Doctor Jackson'. He also heard the woman called 'Sam' by both the older and younger men and 'Major Carter' by the Jaffa. And, finally, the other three all called the Jaffa 'Teal'c'.
That now meant he had their full names, less any middle names, as 'Colonel Jack O'Neill', 'Doctor Daniel Jackson', 'Major Sam (likely short for 'Samantha') Carter' and the Jaffa, of course, as simply 'Teal'c'. Jaffa... slave soldiers... didn't have last names.
After watching them for a while, Harry made his decision to 'greet' them. He carefully placed his staff weapon on the ground at his feet and carefully allowed the Notice-me-Not to fade away.
As soon as he did and before they saw him, he slipped the wand into his hidden holster on his forearm under the bracer on his left arm.
Of course, the big black Jaffa spotted him first and whirled on him with his staff weapon. However, Harry immediately saw it wasn't 'activated' as the tip was still closed and not 'sparking'. He tensed, but otherwise didn't react.
"Colonel O'Neill!" Teal'c sharply called.
That had the other three whirl about, bringing their own weapons to bear. Thankfully, none of them shot. That spoke of training.
"Damn!" said O'Neill, looking at him in surprise. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?" asked Harry.
"Turn invisible!" said O'Neill.
Harry just grinned back and said, "Trade Secret."
As Harry eyed the other four and they eyed him back it was a few moments before O'Neill asked. "So, you sound... English?"
"That would be because I am," Harry replied.
"A bit far from home, aren't you?" asked O'Neill.
"Wouldn't know," replied Harry. "All I know is this is a different planet. I have no idea where it is, or how far it is from Earth."
"8.6 light years," explained Carter. "It's in the Canis Major system." Indicating the sun - or the main one, at least - she continued, "That's the star Sirius A." Then indicated the very bright star he could always see during the day. "And that's Sirius B."
"Sirius?" he perked up. Then covered himself by asking, "Isn't that what we call the Dogstar? Supposedly the brightest star in the night sky? After our own sun, of course.
"Well, brightest star on Earth, at any rate," he muttered. "Of course... here... as it's the planet's sun, it's even brighter."
"Yep," she beamed back as first she and then the other three lowered their weapons. "I doubt you'd know that if you weren't from Earth."
"How did you get here, anyway?" asked Jackson.
Harry frowned, shrugged and replied, "I was in London. Next thing I know there was this bright flash of light. Next thing I know after that... I wake up here."
"What was the date?" asked Jackson.
"Ummm..." Harry thought. "Let's see... I'd just finished one of my exams that day. It was three days before the train... eighteenth of June, 1996!"
"Errr..." said Jackson. "How long do you think you've been here?"
"No idea," he returned. "As far as I know and can figure out, I estimate it's been about two years; probably closer to two and half."
After the three non-Jaffa all glanced to one another for a moment he asked, "Oh-kaaay... What gives? How long has it really been?"
"A little over three years," replied a clearly sympathetic Carter. "Back on Earth, it's currently the thirty-first of October, 1999; Hallowe'en."
"It's Hallowe'en, three years later!?" Harry exclaimed, before he startled to chuckle, laugh and cry almost all at the same time. SG-1 just watched and let him get it out of his system.
"It's always Hallowe'en," he sighed, coming down off his stress relief laugh/cry. "That day just hates me."
"We'll take your word for it," said O'Neill. "That aside, how'd you like to go home?"
"What?" asked Harry. "Back to Earth?"
"Yes..." replied Jack before he realised he didn't know what the young man's name was. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Harry," replied Harry.
"Got a last name?" pressed O'Neill.
"Yup," he grinned.
When he didn't expand, Jackson gave a snort of amusement. O'Neill looked confused.
"It's Potter," said Harry, having had his fun. "Harry Potter."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ