March 25, 1988

"-'an that's how you pull off an effective misdirection."

"I don't get it. Can you explain it again?"

"Again? I swear I've already told it 'least a dozen times!"

Harry jumped off his cot, snagging Dung's glass off the coffee table as he ran to the tiny kitchenette in their room at the inn. "I'll get you some more water, then I want to see it again!"

Now, Harry was well aware that the tall bottle wasn't actually water, but Dung seemed to think it was hilarious whenever he called it that. Filling the glass halfway up, he returned to the sitting room at a slower pace. This time, though, he took a seat on the sofa next to the older man.

"Thanks, kid." Dung took a healthy gulp of his drink before setting it down, coughing a bit after he swallowed. "Right. Now, what were we talkin' about?"

"You were teaching me tricks!"

"'Course, 'course!" He reached into his robes, withdrawing a thin leather case and placing it next to his drink. "Le'me show you. Fetch me an onion."

Harry blinked. "Aren't those your- your locking tools? And why do you need an onion?"

"Lock-picking tools. No questions, now, P'fesser Fletcher's lecturing!"

Leaping off the sofa, Harry did as ordered, returning with a bright red onion. Mundungus slipped a thin blade from the leather case and quickly peeled and halved the vegetable. "I'll need your 'and, now." Harry turned himself to face Dung, who cut a slice of onion and carefully slid a ring of it around the boy's wrist, and another over his finger. "Okay. The thing is, misdirection's actually the op'site. You want 'im focused, not distracted."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Don't it? Pay close attention, now." Dung gestured to Harry's onion-adorned hand. "That's a mighty fine ring, guv, just like the one I used to have on me own 'and." Dung wiggled his bare fingers as he spoke while reaching for his drink on the coffee table. "Bloody thief took it right from me when 'e shook my 'and. Ever since then, I prefer t'bow when I say 'ello."

He clasped his hands together and tipped his head, then raised his eyebrows at Harry to do the same. Only, when Harry looked down and clasped his hands together, both the onion on his wrist and the one on his finger were gone!

"Wow!"

Dung drained the rest of his drink while Harry applauded. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be 'ere all week!"

"I want to try it!"

"Sure, give it a go!"

Harry accepted the onion rings back and put them on Dung's hand, staring intently at them before launching into the speech he'd just heard. "I used to have a ring like that, and a thief took it from me, see?" Eyes still locked on the vegetable jewelry, he fumbled for the empty glass on the table for several seconds, before picking it up and pretending to take a drink. "And that's why I bow all the time now." He clasped his hands together and bent forward.

A few seconds passed before Harry looked up. "When should I take the ring?"

Dung laughed, giving Harry a gentle pat on the back as he did. "S'okay, kid, it takes practice. Pro'lly not a good idea to stare at the thing you're trying to nick, either."

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Harry nodded. "Okay, got it."

"It's gettin' late, you should probably get back to bed," Dung said, putting the slim blade back into the leather case and slipping the whole thing into his robes. "I'll just have a kip here 'til your dad comes back."

"Okay, thanks for the lesson, Dung."

"Anytime. 'Night, kiddo." He lowered the lamps to a dim glow and stretched out on the couch.

"Goodnight!" Harry said, crawling into bed underneath the blanket.

Once he was safely tucked in, he carefully withdrew the lockpicks he'd slipped into his sleeve, and settled in to wait.

Hannah set down her textbook and glanced at the clock hanging from the wall. Susan had left to use the restroom more than ten minutes ago; what was she up to? They were supposed to study until Auntie Amelia came home for lunch! She'd surely be cross if Susan ran off to play!

She tapped her quill against the parchment listing her assignments, debating what to do. Hannah could go and fetch Susan and probably make it back before noon. But if she were caught, Auntie Amelia wouldn't believe that Hannah wasn't also skipping out on her lessons.

Heaving out a sigh, Hannah pushed her chair away from the table. Even if she might be caught, she had to try and keep Susan out of trouble.

She found her friend crouched in the upstairs corridor, lying flat on her belly just a few steps away from the staircase. Hearing Hannah approach, she made a 'come here' motion with one arm without looking in her direction.

"What are you doing?" Hannah whispered.

"Shhh!"

Susan tugged at her skirt, silently ordering her to lie alongside her. Voices filtered up the stairs from the sitting room at the base of the stairs.

"-but I still don't understand why."

"Madam Bones, I already explained-"

"So you did, but I didn't ask 'how', I asked 'why'. I hired you to look after the Abbott estate," Hannah went rigid. "I gave you complete access to their businesses and assets. Tell me, are you incompetent or complicit?"

"There was nothing I could do! Edward had all their gold tied up in expansion deals, and several of those were terms agreed to over a handshake! I did my best!"

"You were supposed to be the best! I paid you to be the best!" Amelia's shout was furious, more enraged than Hannah had ever heard her.

"I'm sorry. I truly am. I've outlined the top offer, here. There are others, but none of them will match this one."

"Bulstrode? You bankrupt an orphan, then want to hand over her legacy to Death Eaters?!"

"Reginald is of a cadet line. Most of his business is done in Ireland." It was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"Get out. You'll be hearing from my solicitor!"

"I understand why you're upset, but if you look at the documents, you'll see why I made the choices I did. When you're ready to sign the offer, I'll be waiting." A few moments later came the whoosh of the Floo's activation.

It felt like her throat was full of cotton. "My parents- my dad, he worked so hard…"

"It's going to be okay," Susan squeezed her arm. "Don't worry. Auntie will fix this, she'll make it better."

Hannah hoped she was right. She didn't want to think about what her father would say when he woke up if Susan was wrong.

"It's nice, certainly."

"It used to belong to one of the Tsar's cousins. During the Revolution, an… enterprising magical family decided to preserve it from the excesses of the working class." Yuri's cousin, Dmitri, puffed on a cigar as they toured the home. "They managed to do so before electrical wiring could be installed, which made converting it to magical suitability far simpler."

"Where are we? I mean, in relation to Kitezh," Sirius asked, while Hilde pranced from room to room. The place was palatial in the truest sense of the word; sixteen rooms with en suite bathrooms, a ballroom, a reception hall (separate from the dining room), and a massive kitchen with attached servants' quarters.

"This is on the outskirts of Dzherzhinsk. Lake Svetloyar is to the east, about one hundred kilometers beyond the Volga." Dmitri gestured with his cigar to the banks of the river, just visible from the window they stood near.

"It's magnificent!" Hilde said in an awestruck voice, spinning in the center of the ballroom. "Fit for a princess!"

Dmitri chuckled, but Sirius frowned. "How did you happen to come into possession of this property? It's hard not to notice the 'enterprising' family you mentioned was not your own."

"It's too cold here, too remote. Bigger magical settlements in central Europe. Nobody around to show off all this wealth to." Dmitri held his arms out, as though to emphasise the cavernous emptiness of the home. "The previous owners moved to Budapest. I bought this for Knuts on the Galleon."

"And you decided on such a low sale price for the same reasons?"

The Russian's eyebrows raised. "You are… upset it is not expensive enough? I will happily take more of your gold, if so!"

It was a lovely estate. He was probably just being paranoid. "Give me some time to think it over. I'll get back to you." Dmitri raised the cigar in a haphazard salute, and Sirius called for Hilde to rejoin him. "We appreciate you letting us see the property."

They apparated back to Kitezh, stopping off for dinner in a different tavern than the one they presently stayed in. Hilde hadn't taken the move to Russia very well; today was the first time since they'd arrived in Kitezh that Sirius had seen her show any excitement. He didn't want her cheer to end so quickly.

She was a half-blood from Bremen, born to an impoverished family. She was only educated up to her OWLs, her parents having withdrawn her from school to help provide for the family. Whether that was through working full-time or by being sold off into marriage, though, they weren't able to agree.

Instead, Hilde had taken matters into her own hands and fled to Hanover, the magical portion still a British enclave, where Sirius met her. Granted, hiring her had been more for him than for Harry, at least initially, but she'd proven to be an admirable caregiver.

"I can tell you really liked the house," he said, once the waiter brought their meals.

"It's like something out of a storybook," she said, her cheeks slightly flushed, before she cleared her throat and schooled her features. "And it provides plenty of space for Harry to stay out of trouble."

"I think he'd be happy to stay in the inn until he starts school," Sirius joked, but they both knew that was more true than not.

"The Invisible City is no place for a child. This is a dangerous place."

He didn't argue the point because Kitezh was a seedy and rough town, but it was exactly for that reason it made a perfect camouflage. "That's true."

"And that man, Fletcher - he does not seem like a very good influence," she said, clearly on a roll.

Sirius laughed. "Dung's sleazy, sure, but he's harmless. Anyway, he's only here to-" His eyes flicked over to where a man's face lit with recognition, standing from his own table and approaching them with a smile. "Zdravstvuyte."

He nodded to Sirius, but sought out Hilde instead. "Miss Schulze? Is that you?"

Hilde peered at him for a moment and then smiled brightly. "Professor!" She grabbed Sirius' hand, gesturing towards the man. "This is Professor Holger Nielsen. He was my Charms instructor at Durmstrang! Join us, please!" She called out for the waiter to bring another chair.

Since they both spoke German, Sirius greeted him in that language, but upon learning he was from England, the professor switched to Sirius' native tongue. After exchanging pleasantries, he asked, "What brings you to Russia, Professor? Isn't school in session?"

"Call me Holger, please. I have taken a sabbatical for this term, to carry out some research for the outgoing headmaster."

"He's retiring?" Hilde asked.

"Yes, at the end of this year. The board has been interviewing appropriate candidates since Yule."

Sirius sipped his wine. "What sorts of things are you studying here?"

Nielen smiled, spreading his arms out. "All of it! Kitezh is a marvel the world over. The quality of magic required to submerge an entire city beneath the waters of a lake is unparalleled! My work, should it prove successful, will seek to replicate it, on a smaller scale, of course."

"I see."

"If I am able to transpose the enchantments that allowed Kitezh to sink beneath the waves in combination with more modern transportation technologies, I think…" he went on, but Sirius lost interest, merely nodding along when it seemed appropriate. This sort of magical theory was always Remus' area of expertise; he and James were more concerned with the execution than the hypothesis.

Eventually, the professor ended his lecture and they parted ways. Dinner went on well past the normal hour, far beyond what Sirius had planned for, with 'darkness' having long since fallen over the artificial sky. He hoped Mundungus hadn't let Harry stay up too late; the last thing he needed was for the kid's sleep schedule to get out of sorts.

Those hopes were dashed, however, when a dishevelled Dung met them at the door to the inn.

"What're you doing here? Where's Harry?"

"See, the thing is, he's, um- he might've pulled a runner."

Harry never had any problem getting around in Hanover. People took one look at him and knew he wasn't someone worth the trouble. He wore nice clothes, Hilde did her best to keep him clean, he was well-fed.

To his surprise, those things all made him stand out in Kitezh, to the point he may as well have been glowing in the dark. He really needed to start dressing like Dung. Pulling the heavy woolen cloak he'd borrowed from his father tighter around him, Harry increased his pace as he walked by a group of men who went silent as he passed.

Yes, blending in better would need to be a priority. First, though, he had a fairy to save.

There was no card game this evening, but the wagon was back. Two of the men were asleep, one leaning against the wagon, the snores of the other from within clearly audible as Harry crept through the deserted market. A third man was present but out of sight, the amber glow of a cigarette visible from the other side of the covered cage.

She was waiting for him. He could feel it.

Harry kept his eyes trained on the street's surface, walking slowly with silent, exaggerated steps to avoid accidentally kicking any debris. He'd once been caught by Hilde after kicking a shoe he'd left out while trying to sneak out in the dark.

Darkness wouldn't be a problem here, though, he thought with a frown. The market was well-lit, even in the middle of the night, a loose circle of streetlamps surrounding the square. Harry ducked behind a folded vendor's table, eyes locking onto the shadows between each lamp.

It wouldn't work. The sleeping man outside the wagon faced the illuminated side of the cage, and the man smoking was on the shadowed side. He had a choice between breaking in beneath a spotlight, or attempting to do so a foot away from an alert guard.

Well. He'd just need to break the lock quickly, and free Meadow before the sleeping man woke up. Or before the guard decided to circle back to the lit side.

'Piece of cake'

Harry moved slowly, doing his best to plan his route to the cage in a way that kept his shadow's movement from being obvious to the guard. The tarp over the cage was heavy, a fact that worked in his favour to minimise any rustling noises as he slipped beneath the cloth, pressing himself against the bars beneath the covering.

A form in the darkness shifted. Meadow was awake.

Fishing the lockpicks out of his pocket, Harry ran his fingers over the bars, seeking out a way in or out of the cage. He couldn't find one. Was the door on the other side? How was he going to stay hidden, if so? It was too dark beneath the tarp to tell.

Pressing his face against the bars, Harry reached inside as far as his arm could go, feeling for the imprisoned fairy. There was brief movement, and he nearly cried out in surprise when her face appeared, just inches away from his own.

'I knew you would return, youngling.' Just like before, her melodious voice filled his mind.

'Yes, but I need your help,' he thought urgently. 'Where is the door to the cage? I can't see it in the dark.'

'There is no door,' came her calm, steadfast reply.

'What? How did they lock you in the cage, then?'

'It is sealed magically.'

'How can I break it?'

Meadow didn't reply, and their connection ended with that same rushing feeling as the day before. Squeezing one of the bars with his hands, as though to test the strength of the structure, Harry noticed something unusual. He could feel small grooves cut into the metal, too ordered to be scratches. Relying entirely on touch, he tried to decipher what the symbols were, what they meant.

One particular shape was repeated, over and over, interspersed at regular patterns along the bars. Harry checked each bar, on three sides of the cage, and all of them bore the same symbol. Surely, it was important in some way. He reached inside the cage once more, to gesture for the fairy's attention.

Her eyes, infinite wells of blackness, appeared in front of his own. 'There are carvings on the bars.' Harry tried to picture what the symbol he felt was, tracing it in his mind to form a picture of the shape.

Waves of hot rage rolled over him. Trapped as he was in communication with her, Meadow's fury was terrifying. 'A symbol of the Architect! It is unnatural, wrong, IT DOES NOT BELONG!'

Harry tried to reply, to beg her to stop, but words wouldn't take shape in his mind. When it was over, when she released him, he sagged against the bars, sliding down the warm, slick metal to land in a heap. His brain was misfiring, thoughts intermittent like the time he and his father tried to listen to a quidditch match on the Wireless during a heavy storm.

When he finally, slowly pulled himself together, he could hear the sounds of two sets of footsteps outside the cage.

How much time had passed? How much time did he have left? The wagon's presence in the market once more undoubtedly signalled the negotiations for Meadow's sale that the man had mentioned to him and Dung were at an end.

Taking hold of the bars, Harry hauled himself to his feet, listening intently for a moment when both men were on the opposite side of the cage, then he climbed up on top of the cage.

Unfortunately, the higher up he went, the more tightly the tarp was wrapped around the cage. His wriggling must have drawn attention, for there were excited cries in Russian, followed by an incantation in a language he didn't recognise.

The tarp lifted off of him just as he reached the top, and Harry found himself staring down at the wooden ceiling of the cage. "Boy! Come down, quickly! Is not safe to be so close to feya!"

The wooden surface was smooth, polished and shiny, but it bore an etching of its own, this one burned into the roof of the cage. It was different, nothing at all like the one carved into the metal bars. It looked like an elaborate horseshoe, but his hands tingled when he ran his fingertips over it.

"Come, hurry!" Their voices sounded frightened, now, and coming closer.

He was out of time. Pulling one of the lockpicks from his pocket, Harry closed his eyes and jammed the narrow metal tool into the wooden surface. A second later, a charm struck his shoulder, pulling him towards the edge of the cage, and the guards waiting below. As he was dragged away, though, he kept a tight hold of the lockpick, its edge scratching a wound into the surface of the wood, a steady line that perfectly connected both ends of the horseshoe.

The moment the connection was made, every bar on the cage began to pulse with a bright blue light, increasing in intensity until it was positively blinding. The men's voices were now cries of horror and warning, and the magic that held him abruptly let up, dropping Harry roughly to the ground next to the cage.

A cage that, in the next heartbeat, exploded in a burst of magical energy.

Meadow didn't hesitate for even a second, the leafy vines making up her hair lengthening, extending in an instant and striking out like a whip, wrapping around the ankles of one of the guards and dragging him before her. She trailed her fingers over his brow, the way Hilde sometimes did when tucking Harry into bed, only the man screamed and began foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head while his body jerked and seized.

Roots rose from the ground, breaking through the cobblestones, surrounding the wagon that housed the third man and mangling it inside their crushing grasp. When the roots retracted back into the ground, the wreckage was still, a silent tomb.

Why was she doing this? She was supposed to escape, to be free!

The final guard fired spell after spell from his wand, but Meadow evaded them with ease, her body contorting with a graceful liquidity that should have been impossible as she advanced towards him, features as expressionless as ever.

Harry scrambled to his feet, running as fast as his legs would carry him, and threw himself between the two with his hands out. "Stop!" The man lowered his wand, but Meadow continued forward. "STOP!"

He sought out her gaze, and the by-now familiar arc of electricity that came with their connection ran through him. 'Don't hurt him!'

'He was going to hurt me,'she calmly pointed out.

'But he can't anymore, can he? You don't have to kill him. You can go back to your sisters and be free!'

Melodic laughter echoed in his mind. 'I will not kill him. I will take him with me, a prize to entertain my sisters and I.' Her happiness vanished with her next words. 'Do not attempt to side against me. We are the same, youngling. You may believe like cannot overcome like, but I will not stand for betrayal.'

For once, it was Harry who managed to break the connection, tearing his gaze away from hers, balling his hands into fists and squaring his shoulders. "Lower your wand," he told the man without looking back to face him. "You can't hurt her."

Meadow was now in arm's reach. When she ducked beneath a green curse, it brought her so close to Harry their foreheads practically touched. Her fingers brushed across his brow, lightly running along the skin above his eyebrow before gently pressing into his temple.

A sensation of comfort settled over Harry. Meadow's touch elicited the sort of things he felt when his father would read him stories, or tell Harry he loved him, only magnified a hundredfold.

It felt like coming home.

"You can't take him," he breathed, and Meadow cocked her head, as though she were just as confused by what was happening as he was.

And then, the moment they shared came to an end. Meadow's vines wrapped around the last guard's neck, and a loud crack tore through the market before everything went still. Their eyes met one last time, but there were no words exchanged.

She vanished without a whisper of sound, there one second and gone the next, leaving him standing alone in the ruins of the silent market square.

He stayed there, on wobbly knees, until the aurors arrived a few minutes later.

A/N: For the first part of this chapter, I watched a bunch of videos on sleight of hand and magic tricks. Never was much of a fan of 'magicians', but I have to say, if you ever want to be really entertained by what seemed like a really sweet and nice guy, check out Tommy Wonder. Hilarious guy, and really remarkable tricks. Unfortunately for Mundungus, he's more like Tony Wonder (from Arrested Development :D).

Something to remember - while Harry's off gallivanting and seeking out adventures, the civil war in Britain is still going on, just at a lesser pace than when Voldemort was around. I say that as an explanation for why everything is just shit for Hannah and Lily.

Lastly, for those of you curious about how Harry unknowingly (some might say "luckily") managed to free Meadow, here's some clues….

Runes (in order) employed in this chapter: (all from Elder Futhark)

ᛃ - Jera: reaping of rewards, justice

ᚢ - Uruz: strength, life force, determination

ᚦ - Thurisaz: unexpected force, brutality

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles