Disclaimer: Hello, boys! I'm baaa-aaack! (And so's JK Rowing. Or something.)

A/N: It's back! Now that I've finished Lady Archimedes, I can put a more serious effort into my other stories. A few weeks ago, I spent a whole day hammering out the plot of Animagus at War, something I haven't really done properly since I was outlining The Accidental Animagus at the beginning—and I'd never done it truly chapter-by-chapter at all before. I now have a full outline for a total of 57 chapters plus an epilogue for this story, although that is subject to change.

I don't know for sure that this will be my next priority, especially as I struggled quite a bit with this chapter. Right now, I'm trying to write a new chapter for all four of my ongoing stories to decide what direction to go. I have reasons for all of them, but I am definitely taking the continued reader interest in this story into consideration.

Also, if you haven't been following my profile page, I have two new stories up there. One is Annals of Arithmancy, the sequel to Lady Archimedes, and for the other, I decided to finally put up one of those plot bunny anthologies that seem to be so popular. If you're interested in that, check out Scribble Pad.

I think I wrote myself into a corner by saying the Death Eaters got through the Longbottoms' wards, so I went back and changed that in the previous chapter.

Chapter 12: The Dark Mark

As there were still students in the castle for winter holidays, including some key Slytherins, Dumbledore strongly advised the Grangers and their companions to stay in the guest quarters for the day. There was still a chance that the Death Eaters did not know of Paul's and Tiffany's connection to Harry, or at least that they had been with them last night, and it would be good to keep it that way. Once the Order arranged for safehouses, they could return to their families. They wouldn't be afforded constant guard. There weren't enough resources to protect everyone like that, but well-hidden and well-supplied, they would be able to wait out the war if need be.

They didn't talk much that morning, too shaken by the events of the night before. They mostly waited as the preparations were made. Hermione was hiding behind a book to deal with the stress. Paul and Tiffany alternated between sitting on the sofa and occasionally whispering to each other, and trying to make sense of the magical guest quarters. Tonks went back to work. Harry had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion after breakfast, not having really slept at all last night. Luna fell asleep beside him with her head on her shoulder, but somewhere along the line, she had wound up sitting sideways on his lap. It was odd, but their parents had to admit they looked very cute like that.

Things started moving again around noon when Auror Scrimgeour came back with Dumbledore. Scrimgeour was now solidly emplaced as the Acting Head of Magical Law Enforcement while Madam Bones was recovering, so he had a lot more leeway to handle things.

"Psst. Harry," Hermione hissed when he came in. Harry woke up and got his bearings. He shook Luna's arm lightly, but she only mumbled sleepily. He let it go and turned his attention to Scrimgeour. "Yes, Auror Scrimgeour?" he asked.

"I'm hear to handle all of your placements, Lord Potter," Scrimgeour said. "Mr. Talbot, Miss Morley, I've discussed the matter with the Minister for Magic, and we have agreed that because of the specific threats to your lives, you have been given special dispensation to be 'in the know' about magic."

"Is that temporary or permanent, Auror Scrimgeour?" Hermione said shrewdly before they could answer.

"Permanent, Miss Granger," he assured her. "Once a dispensation is granted, it is only revoked if the muggle in question becomes a threat to the Statute of Secrecy."

Paul and Tiffany looked at each other nervously. That sounded uncomfortably like a secret government conspiracy to them, but they didn't have much other choice. "Um…if that's the rule, we can follow it, sir," Paul said.

"Good," Scrimgeour replied gruffly. "Once everything is settled, we'll escort you to join your families in protective custody unless there's a pressing reason not to. That will probably be tomorrow. Mr. Granger, we've granted the same dispensation to your parents. Even though it's not technically allowed," he emphasised with a sharp look, "we end up doing it often enough for grandparents. They are being offered the same protective custody."

"Thank you, Auror Scrimgeour," Dan replied.

"Now, for yourselves, since you are most closely involved with our world, your situation is rather different. Do you have a place you can stay?"

"Er…yes. I'm sure we can stay with Sirius until things are settled," he said. "I'm not sure about Mr. Lovegood, though."

"I don't know," Mr. Lovegood said shakily. "Wherever we go, I'd like to be able to set up a printing press again, but I don't know if it would be safe."

"You shouldn't let them intimidate you, Dad."

Hermione did a double take. That was Luna's voice. Had she even moved?

"We can't let the Death Eaters intimidate us," she said. "Otherwise, they win. Besides, if we don't keep putting out the real news, who will?"

Half the room was staring at her. Luna looked like she might still be asleep except for the fact that she was talking, sitting completely limp on Harry's lap. Harry chuckled softly and nudged her to sit beside him like she had before, putting his arm around her shoulders. He wasn't sure himself how she'd got there. "She has a point, Mr. Lovegood," he said. "Professor, is there someplace we could put them that would be safe for that?"

Dumbledore gave a quick glance at Scrimgeour that told them not to say too much in front of him, but he answered, "I believe I have a few ideas, Harry. I will look into it."

"Hmph. Well, I suppose that's good enough for now," Scrimgeour said. "We're investigating everything of course, but you understand there's only so much we can do. Good luck, Lord Potter, Chief Warlock. Do try to stay safe."

Scrimgeour look his leave, and Dumbledore soon left them alone. Now that everyone was alert, though, Paul and Tiffany finally got to ask the questions they'd been mulling over. "So…you're a Lord?" Paul demanded of Harry.

"Erm…yes, but not like you think," Harry said. "In the wizarding world, 'Lord' is a title for what amounts to a town councillor…which is hereditary—but it's not recognised by the Crown or anything like that."

"You're a councillor?" he said. "And you inherited it? For what town?"

"All of Britain. There's only ten thousand of us, remember? And my Cousin Andromeda is the councillor, not me—Dora's mother. She's the proxy for the seat my family holds."

Paul sniggered: "You trust a woman who named her daughter Nymphadora?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Andromeda's smart, Paul," he said. "And Nymphadora isn't the worst name in her family. It's not even that weird for a witch. Besides," he forced a grin. "What kind of a name is Hermione?"

Paul blushed slightly at the reminder of their first meeting. Hermione reached across from where she was sitting and slapped Harry in the back of the head.

Tiffany took over: "So Dora really is your cousin? She's not a magical spy or something?"

"No, she's really my cousin, but she's also an Auror—sort of like police, like we said. Actually second cousin, once removed, but I don't have any closer magical family, so we're pretty close."

"And this…war?" she said nervously. "I still don't think I understand."

And so, Harry opened up and, with the help of his family, began telling his friends the whole sad tale. He glossed over the how and why of the magical world keeping itself secret, he but explained the longstanding prejudice against muggles and muggle-borns, the rise of an evil wizard in the seventies who drew witches and wizards to that cause despite being half-blood himself, and a vague explanation of Voldemort coming after his family and his birth mother defeating him. (He may have made Lily Potter out to be more of a conventional badass than just sacrificing herself for him?)

"Voldemort was, er, badly injured," Hermione said. "He was so badly hurt that he had to flee the country. Most people thought he was dead, and his power base collapsed. But four years ago, he came back…Actually, for what happened after we started at Hogwarts, you can read Harry's books."

Harry groaned.

"Well, it was your idea to write them, Harry."

"Yes, but I wasn't expecting our best friends to learn about all the messes that go on here from them."

"Wait, wait, you wrote books?" Paul said.

"Yes, with Remus's help—my honorary uncle. I wrote books about all the crazy stuff that's happened to us since we started here so I wouldn't have to keep explaining what's true and what isn't to everybody. I'm already famous, so they're bestsellers—by magical standards, that is."

Paul shook his head. "What kind of crazy stuff—? Wait, you said all your crazy stories were true, didn't you? All that stuff happening in a school? Like, a real school where you go to classes and stuff?"

"It's been a rough few years," Harry said defensively. "And…um, there's one more thing you need to know for it to make sense at all." At that, he jumped off of the sofa and turned into a cat as he dropped to the floor, meowing up at them. Paul and Tiffany practically fell out of their seats.

"Bloody hell!" they both exclaimed.

Harry jumped back onto the sofa and turned back to human form. They didn't seem to know what to do besides stare at him for a minute. They were equally shocked when no one else in the room paid it any mind. "You just turned into a cat," Tiffany finally said.

"Yep." Harry nodded.

"Can you do that?" She pointed at Hermione, but then gestured vaguely at everyone in the room, including Dan and Emma.

"I can," Hermione said. "Except I turn into an otter. The animal is sort of based on your personality."

"It's a rare skill, though," Harry said. "And almost unheard of to learn it as a kid, like I did."

"You learnt it when you started here?" Tiffany said. "When you were eleven?" But Harry chucked, and Hermione giggled softly. "What?"

"Tiffany, I learnt to do that when I was five," Harry told her. "We're still not sure how, but…I could already do that when we first met. That's why I've always been so good at climbing."

Tiffany's and Paul's eyes widened more and more as so many little clues about Harry's behaviour over the years began to make sense to them. "You've always been able to do that?" Paul said, and Harry nodded. "Bloody hell! I always knew there was something off about you, mate—"

"Oi!"

"—but that takes the cake. Hey! That's why you like barbecue so much, isn't it!"

Yes, Harry confirmed, it was. Now that they were onto more pleasant topics, Paul and Tiffany had a lot more questions about magic, Hogwarts, and the magical world in general. Hermione and Harry told them all about Hogwarts and their classes. They were naturally fascinated by all the things magic could do. Harry told them some more of his magical family's history, and they sketched a rough outline of the history of the magical world, although Hermione lamented that the most popular history books in the magical world had turned out to be so spotty, since it otherwise would have been easier to refer them to those.

"Don't you have textbooks, though?" Tiffany asked.

"Yes, but they're not very good," Hermione said. "Or that's not entirely fair; we know the author of our textbook, and she's pretty good after 1700, but before that, there's nothing really reliable."

"Really?" asked Paul, cocking an eyebrow. "You don't have any big definitive books like Gibbon's Decline and Fall…or something? I don't know exactly how it works, but shouldn't there be something like that?"

"But the magical world is tiny," Hermione said. "That's was one of the hardest things for us to understand. It's like a small town—the politics, the culture, the infrastructure—everything. We don't have enough people to produce timeless works of scholarship reliably. So even our best textbooks are only so-so."

"But hey," Harry cut in, "maybe when the war's over, Moony can write a new one. He's doing pretty good so far helping with my books. I bet he could pull off some writing of his own."

"Hm, maybe," Hermione agreed.

They talked well into the evening about other things of little consequence. Dumbledore showed up at supper time and told them he had no news, but he was reaching out to his contacts in Central America to try to figure out what La Pantera's ritual was for. They were all tired, though, so they went to bed early after that. The next day, Paul and Tiffany would return to their families, which they were nervous about, but the Grangers assured them that Dumbledore would keep them safe.

Lucius Malfoy was beyond nervous when the Dark Lord called court at Riddle Manor. Five attacks had been sent out last night while the Dark Lord himself attended some a personal matter, and none of their targets had been killed. This would have been one of the greatest failures in the last war—one that promised severe retribution on the whole group for such a setback—and he feared the consequences here.

The others felt it too. The tension in the throne room was palpable when the Death Eaters assembled. They huddled in the back of the room as the Dark Lord took his throne, each lowering their gaze so as not to catch his eye. As usual, Lady Pantera lounged irreverently by the window—the nerve of that woman! Of course, she was completely at ease. Lord Ngeze, on the other hand, was the opposite. He stood stiffly at the opposite side of the room staring silently at them with his bare arms crossed, looking far more intimidating than Lucius's own goons ever could.

"Come, come, my Death Eaters," the Dark Lord hissed. Predictably, he would brook no reticence on their part. "Come closer. Don't be shy."

Lucius chanced a glance up at the Dark Lord. He looked about as cheerful as he ever did, though that was with a sadistic smirk. The Death Eaters began to shuffle forward, all of them trying not to wind up at the front without looking like they were keeping their distance. (All except Bellatrix, that was, who had also been kept back last night for reasons unknown.) Not that any of that fooled him.

"I smell fear," he said softly, and Lucius wondered not for the first time if he really could smell their fear. "This room reeks of it. But why should you be fearful? Ah, but are are worried about last night's raids, of course. Five parties were sent out; yet all five came back with their hands empty of their quarry. Quite the poor showing, is it not?"

The Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably where they stood. A few of them mumbled apologies, but Lucius remained stoically silent. Better to keep his back straight and not show weakness than to grovel at the Dark Lord's feet. He'd learnt that much at least since his return to the Death Eaters' fold. The punishment would be the same either way, but the Dark Lord would at least have more respect for him.

But the Dark Lord didn't punish them at all. Instead, he spoke conversationally: "You should not become overwrought by last night. The truth is, I fully expected four of those five attacks to fail."

What? Lucius's head snapped up, as did the rest of them. Still, no one spoke up, but the shifting of feet and muttered curses took on entirely different tone. What was going on?

"The Minister, the Boneses, and the Longbottoms are too well protected for a small frontal attack to succeed," the Dark Lord explained. "Did you believe I had calculated the forces needed to take them so poorly?" Wisely, no one took the bait for that trap. "No, this was sending a message. Those wizards now know what I can do with just a few Death Eaters, even before I enter the battle myself. And it was a distraction, tying up the Ministry's resources while I attended to a personal matter that they might have otherwise detected."

Lady Pantera's ritual, Lucius thought. He still didn't know much about it, but he knew it involved a human sacrifice—Potter's muggle teacher—and that was reason enough to be very afraid.

"Potter likewise is under Dumbledore's personal protection, and he has learnt from his parents' downfall," the Dark Lord continued. "Even with Lord Ngeze's help, I thought it likely he would escape. While it would have been better to kill some of his family, it still sent a powerful message: we have taken his home and, more importantly, his sense of security. He knows I can reach him anywhere." Many of the Death Eaters shivered, understanding that he had just backhandedly given them the same message. "Lord Ngeze, your assistance was much appreciated, and you will assuredly be well-compensated. You certainly got Dumbledore's attention last night."

"Good," the African dark lord rumbled in a deep voice. "As long as I have my rematch, we're set, Voldemort."

The Dark Lord smirked, but then turned more serious. He looked to one particular group of Death Eaters and said, "No, the only attack I expected to succeed last night was the one on the Lovegood residence. Killing Potter's pitiful little girlfriend would have sent the strongest message of all, and yet it seems a madman and a little girl were too much for you."

"Master!" One of the Death Eaters under his scrutiny cracked. "We didn't know what hit us! Lovegood had erumpent horns! A swarm of enchanted paper like locusts! Things we'd never even heard of before—"

"Crucio!"

The other Death Eaters winced as screams filled the throne room. And that, Lucius had learnt the hard way, was why you didn't grovel.

"A few cheap tricks should not stop a Death Eater," he said coldly, somehow making himself heard above the screams without raising his voice. "I expect a higher standard." He released the curse, and the unfortunate lay gasping on the floor. "I will deal with the failures later, in private," he said, and his followers shuddered. "Now, you are no doubt wondering, if last night was merely a message and a distraction, what are my true plans? Tonight, you have a first look at them…The new recruits will come forward," he ordered.

Three of the black-robed figures in the room broke ranks and went before the Dark Lord's throne. Having been counselled, they knelt before him, and he rose from his throne to meet them. "These three Death Eaters do not yet bear my Mark," he said. "They are as yet students at Hogwarts, but they joined the rest of you last night as a test of their resolve—each of them at one of the hardened targets. They served competently to the standards I expect of them, and they followed my orders without question, even when I sent them on what seemed an impossible mission. I expect such loyalty from all of my Death Eaters." There was murmured agreement from the room. "Tonight, we welcome these three to our family." This elicited the appropriate cheers.

Adrian Pucey, Graham Montague, and Cassius Warrington, Lucius thought. He wasn't completely certain. It was possible the Dark Lord was even lying about them being students. But he (and many of the Death Eaters) knew the Slytherin class, and he would bet good money on them being those three boys.

"But I find myself in a dilemma," the Dark Lord went on. He wasn't done just yet. "In the last war, Dumbledore did not learn of the existence of the Dark Mark until it was too late to do anything about it. This time, he is on high alert. He will be allowed to search students for it, and I suspect even my spy in his ranks will not be able to deter him from it. Therefore, this one time, because of the importance of your mission, you three will be given a special Mark."

Lucius gasped softly. Was the Dark Lord about to do what he thought he was about to do?

"The Dark Mark is forever," he said, "but your Marks will be no mere tattoos. For you three, the ink will be able to sink deeper into your skin to hide itself and thus evade a search…This privilege will last until you finish your schooling, at which point you will no longer need to hide in the shadows."

Lucius's eyes widened behind his mask. That wasn't what he was expecting, and from the whispers he heard around him, he knew a lot of people had reached the same conclusion he had. This spell would tie the Mark even closer to the boys' magic, and if they crossed the Dark Lord, it could hurt them that much more. What must seem a boon to them was really a curse.

At that moment, he also noticed that Lady Pantera was no longer relaxed. She was sitting upright and very attentive, like a predator about to strike. Something about this spell interested her. But had she helped create it…or did she want to learn about it?

But he was shaken from his thoughts as the Dark Lord began the ceremony. He stood before the recruits, looking from one to the next in the eyes and said, "Do you desire to receive my Mark and enter my service?"

Again, having been counselled (it wouldn't do, otherwise), the boys answered in unison, "I do."

"Do you renounce the muggles, and their ways of life?"

"I renounce them," they said.

"Do you renounce those who would pollute our society with their ways?"

"I renounce them," they repeated.

"Do you believe in the ultimate might of magic?"

"I do."

In the last war, that question had been different. Back then, it was a question about the mingling of blood, but now that Potter had revealed the Dark Lord to be a half-blood (something that Lucius still struggled to digest), he had quietly dropped it. Certainly, the Dark Lord had long ago renounced his muggle heritage, and that magic was might was unassailable, so it was fair.

"And do you promise to follow and obey me as your Lord and Master?" the Dark Lord said.

"I do."

"Present your arms."

Each of the boys extended his bare left arm, and the Dark Lord touched his wand to each in turn, administering the Mark nonverbally as he spoke: "I Mark you with the sign of Lord Voldemort. Let it always remind you of whom you truly serve." The boys hissed in pain as he Marked them, but they withstood it admirably.

When he was finished, the Dark Lord returned to his throne, looking even more darkly regal than before. "Rise," he commanded, and the boys stood. "My newest Death Eaters, your position at Hogwarts is of utmost importance to my plans. As you know, the greatest obstacle to my power has always been Albus Dumbledore. Harry Potter is a personal matter I shall deal with in due time, but Dumbledore is the only one with the power to challenge me directly." He pointedly didn't mention the ICW task force. "And Dumbledore's citadel is Hogwarts. From without it is too strong to break, but from within…it is soft—vulnerable. A school filled with young children cannot withstand assaults from both within and without.

"Your mission at Hogwarts will be to recruit those students who are sympathetic to our cause to act when the time is right," he said. "My Mark will be your token of authority. You will not restrict yourselves to the upper years of students when you do this, and you will not restrict yourselves to Slytherin House. Indeed, if there are any suitable candidates among the staff, you may approach them. But you will approach only those whom you trust implicitly. In particular, you will not approach Professor Snape about this mission. And you will cover your tracks with Memory Charms and any other way that seems necessary to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," they said.

"This is a mission of stealth and sabotage, not of strength. As you recruit my fifth column within Hogwarts, you will wait for my signal. When the time comes, you will undermine the defence of the school in any and all ways you can. With attacks from within and without, Hogwarts will fall swiftly. Do this for me, and you will be rewarded greatly."

"Yes, Master," they repeated.

Yes, this was very interesting, Lucius thought. He didn't know what was going to happen yet, but it was definitely going to be big.