The Horizon

"You have my apologies, Sirius, I did not know you were going to be ambushed like that," Dumbledore offered sincerely. "I was not made aware of the topic of discussion until I arrived a few moments before you. For what it is worth, I think you handled it admirably."

Sirius waved him off.

"They were hoping to cow me," he sighed. "What I'm more concerned with is that Voldemort seems to be recruiting from within prisons now. I've read through the list of inmates missing. It does not bring me any comfort."

"Prisons?" Molly interjected worriedly.

"Some two hundred prisoners," Sirius revealed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "It's certainly something we can do without."

The other members of the Order nodded.

"He's going to make a final push, isn't he?" Arthur questioned.

"I expect that is his intention," Dumbledore murmured darkly. "He cannot afford a war of attrition. He has seen how that has ended up for him. He does not make the same mistake twice."

The mood that swept over those within the room was grim.

"How long will he wait?"

Albus shook his head.

"I cannot say, but I do not expect it will be long. As the late Alastor would say, we must remain vigilant. We have now reached a point of uncertainty and must be prepared for anything. For now, return home. We will meet daily to receive any needed updates on progress."

The room emptied quietly, those who had attended the gathering seemingly processing what they'd just learned.

"I must be going too, Sirius," Albus announced. "I would urge you to be cautious, especially now. These truly are the most dangerous of times."

Sirius nodded his understanding, and Albus took his leave of Grimmauld Place, his next destination a pivotal visit he would make in this war.

The report had not arrived until Sirius had left the ICW chambers, but Tom had made his way to Nurmengard, leaving with only one prisoner. It hadn't been Gellert, but with how meticulous his former pupil was, Albus did not doubt he made the acquaintance of his childhood friend, at the very least.

What Gellert would have told him, however, was another matter entirely, though his penchant for causing chaos was most troubling, particularly with so much hanging in the balance.

Albus could not trust the man not to share what he knew pertaining to certain topics, and if he had, it could prove to have a detrimental effect on the war and what Tom would do next.

(Break)

"You know you don't have to go."

"I know, but it feels like it is the right time," Susan replied as she added a pile of clothes to her trunk before closing it. "There's no reason for me to stay here anymore, Harry. I have passed my NEWTs, and with you getting married, you should have your own space," she added with a grin.

"We're not getting married yet."

"I know, but I'm tired, Harry," Susan sighed. "I've been in hiding for so long, and I just want to have a semblance of freedom again. You must understand that."

Harry nodded.

"I do," he assured her. "Where will you go?"

"I'm going home. I'm tired of hiding from him. Amelia didn't, and I won't either. I'm not a child who can hide under their bed from the monsters of the world anymore. I'm a grown woman, a Bones, and we do not hide from our enemies. If he comes for me, then he comes."

Harry shook his head as he reached into his pocket and offered her the small, wooden Potter crest.

"If he comes for you, you'll use this," he said firmly. "It will bring you back here and out of danger. Promise me, Susan."

She rolled her eyes at him and nodded.

"Fine," she agreed, I will use it."

"Good," Harry declared. "Good luck, Susan."

"You too, Harry," she returned, offering him a smile, and wrapping him in her arms. "Thank you for everything. I couldn't have done it without you."

He waved her off.

"You made it easy. If only the students could do the same," he sighed.

"It's not easy being a teacher."

"It's not," Harry agreed with a chuckle. "That's why I have no intention of being one for any longer than necessary. I think Fleur will be okay to take over fully next year?"

"What will you do?"

Harry shrugged.

"Not teach," he said with a grin.

Susan laughed as she shook her head, making her way towards the fireplace.

"Thank you again, Harry," she said sincerely.

With a final smile, she stepped into the flames and vanished, leaving Harry alone.

He wasn't disappointed to have his home to himself once more and the additional hours he'd gained where he wouldn't be tutoring her would certainly prove to be useful.

Susan was right.

With the wedding in the not-so-distant future, he would appreciate somewhere he and Isabella could be alone, and he knew his bride-to-be would feel the same.

Still, there was time before he would be married, and he could simply enjoy having a space to truly call his own after a hard day of teaching and dealing with whatever Voldemort threw at him, even if the Dark Lord had been uncomfortably quiet recently.

That wouldn't last, and it only served to remind Harry of all the other things he had to do in the meantime, beginning the very next morning.

He'd carefully pondered who he would be inviting to the wedding, and many had been dismissed readily, but there were two more he wished to invite that he had not discussed it with as yet.

(Break)

Revealing the pregnancy to his parents had not been as well-received as Cedric had hoped. He knew they both loved him dearly, despite this, it was impossible to miss the disappointment his father felt for him in that moment.

Amos Diggory had always been supportive of Cedric had encouraged him to do well in school, to play Quidditch, and even enter the Triwizard Tournament. Nonetheless, he was a traditionalist at heart in some ways, and having a child out of wedlock was something he certainly disapproved of.

Cedric had never seen such disappointment in the man's eyes when he'd informed him that Tonks was pregnant.

His father didn't care that the woman was a half-blood, nor that she was a working Auror. He admired Nymphadora, but her falling pregnant was just something he was struggling to accept.

Perhaps it was too much to spring on the man so suddenly.

Maybe Cedric should have told his parents when they were alone and not subjected the woman to the same disappointment he'd experienced.

He released a deep sigh as he checked his watch.

He only had five minutes left of his shift, and then he promised Nymphadora he would visit her so they could begin looking into purchasing the first items for their son or daughter.

The thought brought a smile to his lips, removing any of the negativity that was plaguing him.

He hadn't intended to upset his parents, but the truth was, they would need to get used to the idea that he was going to be a father.

Giving the alley a final glance and being thankful for a quiet shift, he made his way to the apparation point and vanished with a gentle pop.

Arriving in front of Tonks's apartment building, he tapped the buzzer with his wand to alert her he'd arrived.

She answered the door in her pyjamas and gestured for him to enter.

Upon doing so, she pressed her lips to his.

"Busy night?" she asked expectantly.

Cedric shook his head.

"Quiet," he informed her.

She nodded and released a deep sigh.

Nymphadora was struggling with being stuck on desk duties, which consisted of filing paperwork, after spending the better part of two weeks getting it all in order to begin with.

"I've been looking through some of these catalogues," she explained, patting the sofa next to her. "Don't worry, I've not picked anything yet."

"You can pick anything you like," Cedric assured her. "I don't know about any of this stuff."

She offered him a grin.

"What, you never sat with your friends at school choosing baby outfits and planning your wedding?" she teased.

"Boys don't really do that stuff," Cedric snorted. "We talk about Quidditch."

"Of course you do," Tonks chuckled. "Well, you have to think about these things now, Diggory. You're going to have a baby."

Cedric nodded as he smiled.

"So, what have you found?" he asked.

He listened and watched as Tonks began flicking through some of the volumes, pointing out an assortment of clothing, cots, and even little seats specially designed for babies.

It was all rather domesticated, and it only endeared her to him more.

"Marry me," he blurted.

Tonks looked towards him and narrowed her eyes.

"If this is because of your parents…"

He took her hands, cutting her off.

"This has nothing to do with my mother and father," he said sincerely. "This is about us. I was trying to find a way to ask you properly after you told me you were pregnant, and this isn't just about the baby either. I know that none of this is how either of us envisioned it, but I've fallen in love with you, and I want us to share our lives together."

"I thought you said you'd never thought about it."

"I hadn't until I met you," Cedric returned honestly.

His words brought a smile to her lips.

"Do you mean it?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Then I'll marry," Tonks agreed, "but I do not want a big ceremony. Something small."

"We could always elope," Cedric chuckled.

Nymphadora nodded.

"Why not?" she asked. "Just you, me, my parents, and yours. Would that be so bad?"

Cedric shook his head.

"That sounds perfect to me."

"Then that's what we will do," Tonks decided.

"When?"

"Why not tomorrow?"

Cedric wasn't sure if she was being Sirius, but when no punchline was forthcoming, he nodded.

"Do you know a place?"

"No, but I know two people who can do it," she replied with a smirk.

"Dumbledore and Sirius," Cedric snorted amusedly. "Sirius?"

Tonks nodded.

"I'll send him a message now," she declared. "We can fetch our parents in the morning."

"I think my father might have an aneurysm," Cedric chuckled. "At least he won't have a reason to complain anymore," he added thoughtfully.

"So, it's decided?" Tonks asked nervously.

"It is," Cedric confirmed. "You can't back out now. It was your idea."

(Break)

He could feel Tom's presence the moment he entered the formidable prison, the familiar vile magic washed over him and grew only stronger as he traced the steps of the Dark Lord.

As expected, he found the cell of the German mass murderer, Alison Becker, empty, and Albus shook his head.

Already, she was likely in Britain, recovering from her ordeal here and readying herself to help the man who had freed her.

However, it was not Becker Albus had come to see, and as he approached the cell, a bark of laughter rang out down the length of the corridor.

"I expected you would come, old friend," Gellert greeted him gleefully.

"What did you tell him, Gellert?"

"This and that," the man replied with a dismissive shrug. "He was surprised to find me. I suppose you have indeed managed to keep my status quite a secret. Kudos to you, Albus, but then again, you always have been good at keeping your secrets, haven't you?"

"When necessary."

Gellert snorted derisively.

"Let us not play games. You are here only to learn what I told Riddle."

"I am," Albus confirmed unashamedly. "I suppose it would be too much to assume that you said nothing."

"It would," Gellert replied carelessly. "I told him, Albus," he added darkly. "I told him all about the Hallows and the connection of the Potter boy to the Peverells."

Albus deflated at the revelation.

"Are you truly so bitter?"

Gellert shrugged, his piercing blue eyes meeting Albus's own.

"Not bitter, Albus," he replied quietly. "I let go of my bitterness long ago. No, I merely enjoy seeing you squirm. It has become something of a passion of mine throughout my years here. I remember when you first came and told me about the boy, how concerning his proclivities already were. Do you remember what I told you?"

"You would have seen me kill him."

"Exactly," Gellert confirmed, "and had you followed my advice, you would not be here now. You always were too weak to see things through, Albus. You've left the dirty work for someone who is still a boy because you did not have the guts to do what was needed."

"I had hoped he would change."

"You had the same hope for me once upon a time," Gellert reminded him. "Because of that, thousands lost their lives."

"Thousands lost their lives because of you!" Albus snapped, his temper beginning to fray.

"You could have stopped me anytime you wished. You proved that the day we met, and you bested me, even with the wand in my possession. I expect you have given it to the boy."

"I have."

"Then perhaps he has a semblance of hope of winning," Gellert murmured. "Riddle is evil, Albus, more so than I ever was, and he has done unspeakable things to ensure his survival. I could feel it leaking off him. I can still feel it now."

"I have every faith in Harry."

"Then you'd best hope it is not misplaced," Gellert warned. "If he perishes, then who else is there? Certainly not you. You are as old as I am, and even with a wand, I would not be what I once was. The years have crept up on us, old friend, and I suspect neither of us is for this world much longer. I often ponder the dream we once shared and wonder what the world would look like if we'd seen it through. The likes of Tom Riddle would never have risen."

"And yet, I fear the world would be a worse place," Albus sighed sadly, turning to leave.

"I expect this will be the last time I see you," Gellert murmured. "Riddle has promised to tear this place down with me in it."

"You should have considered that before you told him, Gellert," Albus replied. "If this shall be our last meeting, then so be it. I do not believe there is anything else for us to say to one another that hasn't been said before. I am truly sorry I could never help you."

"And I'm sorry that you could not understand my vision for the world. Perhaps in another life, things will be different."

Albus met Gellert's gaze a final time and was unable to prevent himself from returning the wistful smile.

"Perhaps," he replied.

(Break)

It wasn't unusual for Harry to be summoned by Dumbledore, and it had become more common in recent months when the man wished to discuss their combined war efforts.

Being sent for in the hourly hours of the morning, however, was not something the Headmaster had done, and for him to do so now could only mean that what he couldn't wait until the morning to discuss was most urgent.

"Come in, Harry," the man called as he knocked at the door to his office.

He entered to find Dumbledore stroking Fawkes's plumage, something he did when he was pondering something or simply sought comfort in his companion.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Dumbledore released a deep breath as he shook his head.

"I fear not, and for several reasons," he sighed. "Please, take a seat."

Harry did so and waited expectantly for the man to speak, noting how exhausted the headmaster was.

Evidently, it had been a trying day.

"It seems that Tom has become aware of the existence of the Deathly Hallows."

Harry frowned at the revelation.

"It's a very specific thing to become aware of, and most of those that believe in them are, let's just say, not the most reliable of people."

It was something Harry had been looking into. There were those who ardently believed in the existence of the Hallows and had dedicated their lives to seeking them out.

Harry did not wish to fall prey to either the groups or the individuals who would not hesitate to murder him to possess them, even if they were usually rather benevolent people.

To own the Hallows was a dream of many, and some would certainly resort to murder to have them for themselves.

What they intended to do with them, he shuddered to think, but they would be sorely disappointed that they would not live up to the expectations laid out by The Tale of the Three Brothers.

"Indeed," Dumbledore conceded. "But there are those of us who once harboured considerable ambition that sought them. I was one of them, and there was another very dangerous man who came into possession of one."

"Grindelwald," Harry said with a frown.

Dumbledore nodded.

"As you are aware, Tom recently turned his attention to replenishing his depleting numbers, and finding Britain lacking, he ventured elsewhere. He has been freeing prisoners, the very most worrisome, across the wizarding world. On his travels, he paid a visit to Nurmengard."

Harry frowned confusedly.

"For the past five decades, it has hosted the very man that built it, and Tom managed to make his acquaintance."

"Grindelwald told Tom about the Deathly Hallows."

"He did," Dumbledore confirmed. "If I may say, you do not seem surprised to learn that Gellert is still alive."

Harry shrugged.

"I like to think I've gotten to know you well enough over the years. You're not a killer, Professor. Even if someone truly deserves it, you wouldn't take a life intentionally unless it was necessary. I cannot see you killing Grindelwald after you'd disarmed him."

"That is a rather astute observation, Harry, and one, much to my own detriment, is true. Had I killed Gellert, Tom would not have learned of them."

"Not from Grindelwald, at least," Harry sighed. "Bloody hell," he continued in realisation, "he didn't free him, did he?"

"He did not," Albus assured him. "On the contrary, he has vowed to tear Nurmengard down."

Harry frowned thoughtfully.

"Why wouldn't he try to get him on his side?"

"That is an interesting question, Harry, and one I have pondered myself," Dumbledore returned. "I expect it is for several reasons, the first being that Gellert is rather frail in his advanced years. Unable to use magic for so long, he is not the picture of health."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"And Grindelwald is likely one of the few people Tom could never trust to be loyal," he murmured. "Two powerful Dark Lords with their own ambitions. They would live in fear of a knife in the back."

"My thoughts exactly," Dumbledore agreed. "Gellert would never be subservient to Tom, and likewise. To Tom, Grindelwald is a risky threat he would sooner be without. He has a powerful enough enemy in you, Harry."

Harry conceded the point with a nod.

It would not benefit Tom to release Grindelwald, though he did wonder how it was no one seemed to know the man was still alive.

As though he'd read his mind, Dumbledore released a deep breath.

"Everyone simply assumed Gellert was killed at the conclusion of our duel, Harry. I simply never corrected them," he explained. "Ever since, he has lived his life within the walls of his own prison, perhaps a crueller fate than death would have been."

"It is," Harry murmured. "Not that any of it matters now. If Tom knows of the Hallows, it changes nothing, not really. He cannot hope to use them as they were intended, in the same neither you nor Grindelwald could."

"That had crossed my mind, but I thought it only courteous to inform you," Dumbledore replied tiredly.

Harry stood with the intention of leaving, pausing before he took his leave of the room.

"You were friends, weren't you?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"We were," he confirmed. "Forgive me for being immodest, Harry, but I was a gifted young man and as idealistic as any you would meet. Gellert was equally talented, and we found friendship in one another where we had both struggled previously. To my peers, I was something of a know-it-all who could do no wrong in the eyes of the staff that once roamed these halls. Gellert was my equal and someone I once held dear. Our ambitions, however, were not aligned. He sought something I could not bring myself to accept, and neither of us was willing to change to make the other happy."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he offered sincerely. "I cannot imagine how difficult it was for you to face him as you did."

"Your words are appreciated, Harry," Dumbledore replied with a sad smile. "I often wonder how my life would have turned out had things happened differently, but I have no regrets."

"Do you think you would have become a teacher?"

Dumbledore scratched his beard as he pondered the question before shaking his head.

"Perhaps not. I may have liked to have developed my own line of sweets. As I'm sure you are aware, I am rather fond of confectionery. Maybe a magical Sherbet Lemon or even a new chocolate."

"You would have been a magical Willy Wonka."

"Willy Wonka?"

"It is a muggle story for children. I think you'd like it. It is about a boy who wins a golden ticket to visit a famous chocolate factory."

"That does sound interesting," Dumbledore mused aloud, losing himself in his thoughts.

Harry simply chuckled and shook his head before taking his leave of the office, his thoughts, however, darkening as he considered what he'd just learned.

With Tom being aware of the Hallows, it changed nothing, but it did present a unique opportunity for the man to become perhaps more familiar with the magic.

If he made the link between the Peverells and Godric's Hollow, the village of Harry's ancestors could be in severe danger.

(Break)

With those he had liberated taking some much-needed time to recover, the Dark Lord had other things to tend to to ensure they were able to assist him competently in his plans.

Most disgusted him, but they would prove to be useful, or they would die. So long as they were of use in some capacity, he did not mind which outcome.

Nonetheless, they would need to be suitably armed, and there was only one place in Britain where he could obtain what was required. It also presented him with the opportunity to discover more about the mystery wand Grindelwald had mentioned.

The frail, former Dark Lord had claimed to own it, and unless the man was as accomplished as Lord Voldemort in the Mind Arts, the wand did indeed exist.

Grindelwald had seemingly spoken the truth, showing no signs of attempting to lead him.

It was worrying, and the Dark Lord knew he needed more information.

So, who better than the famous Ollivander to enlighten him as to what abilities the wand possessed?

He'd perused Diagon Alley throughout the day, disguising himself with a few simple spells so he appeared to be but a gentile old man, seeking a gift for his bedbound wife.

As ever, the people proved to be sickeningly sentimental and more than once, he'd had to fight the urge to draw his wand on them.

Nonetheless, at this hour, the alley was emptying, and Lord Voldemort's patience was at an end.

Wanting nothing more than to secure what he came for, he ambled towards the Wandmaker's premises and entered, the sound of the bell reminding him of the day he'd purchased his own wand.

"I will be with you in just one moment," a voice called from the back of the shop.

Indeed, it was only a short wait before Ollivander, much older than the Dark Lord remembered, entered the front of the shop, his expression darkening at the sight of him.

"I pride myself on having the most excellent security system in place," Ollivander commented, "but I do not suppose it will stop the likes of you, Tom Riddle."

The Dark Lord winced at his given name.

"It would not."

Ollivander hummed.

"I had hoped that I would be left out of this foolishness. I care neither for blood purity nor politics. I am but a simple Wandmaker. You came here for a reason, Mr Riddle. I would hear it?"

"I need wands. As many as you can provide. I can either pay for them, or I can take them. The choice is yours."

Even in the Great Britain the Dark Lord envisioned the magical population would need wands, and none made them finer here than the man before him.

It would truly be a shame to have to harm him.

To demonstrate his sincerity, Voldemort placed a large sack of coins on the counter, courtesy of Lucius Malfoy.

Fortunately, he'd had the foresight to secure his access to the man's home, the place he was using to house his newest batch of recruits.

Ollivander nodded.

"Very well. I suppose it would be easier for me to comply. Take what you require. You will get no resistance from me."

"An excellent choice," the Dark Lord praised, waving his own wand to summon the entirety of the stock into a trunk he'd prepared. "I am grateful for your cooperation, but there is one other thing you can do for me."

"I'm just a Wandmaker…"

"It pertains to your expertise. Tell me, Ollivander, what do you know of the Elder Wand?"

Ollivander's eyes widened briefly, and the Dark Lord knew then that the man was not ignorant of such an item. In fact, he would go as far as to say that there were likely very few who had researched it as thoroughly.

"The Elder Wand is a folk tale," Ollivander sighed. "As a wand enthusiast, I have traced a perceived history of it, but nothing has ever been substantiated. Without seeing it, I cannot speak for the veracity of the stories."

"And what stories have you heard?" the Dark Lord pressed.

Ollivander shook his head as he released a deep breath.

"It is said to have been gifted to one of the Peverell brothers by Death, along with two other items: a stone able to return the dead to the living and a cloak of true invisibility that will even hide the user from Death himself. The first possessor of the wand used it to kill an old foe, and chose to boast about his new, unbeatable wand. His throat was slashed in his sleep and the wand stolen."

The Dark Lord nodded and gestured for the man to continue.

"After that, it has appeared throughout history over the past thousand years. The last instant with any documentation was some two hundred years ago when a German claimed to possess it. He died a matter of days later. After that, the trail has run cold."

"Until now," Voldemort murmured. "You were not aware that Gellert Grindelwald possessed it?"

Ollivander's eyes winded before he frowned thoughtfully.

"I suppose with all he accomplished, it is not beyond the realm of possibility if the wand does indeed exist. But, if Grindelwald owned it, that means that its allegiance was won by…"

"Dumbledore," the Dark Lord finished. "And now it is in the possession of Harry Potter."

Ollivander laughed, his eyes twinkling.

"If that is true, then I'm afraid that you truly have little hope of defeating him," the man replied. "The Elder Wand stands above all others in all ways. Your own is one of my finest creations, but even the very best Wandmaker cannot compare to Death."

The Dark Lord felt his irritation rise.

If what Ollivander said was true, then meeting Potter in a duel of equals was unlikely to benefit him.

No, he needed to find a way to even the playing field, and the fight must take place on his terms. He needed to think, to plan how he would achieve victory.

He'd spent much of his life finding a way to avoid Death, and he would not fall to a mere boy, even if it were Death itself guiding him.

(Break)

"It really is peaceful here, even if it is not as warm as the island," Isabella commented.

Harry nodded his agreement.

"That's why I like it," Harry replied as he gazed across the crashing waves.

It was raining heavily outside, a far cry from the island in the Philippines, which remained warm throughout the year, even when it was raining, whereas England stayed predominantly cold for much of it.

"It's nice to be home," Isabella murmured. "I like the island, but it's not home. I miss it here."

"You'll be back soon," Harry assured her, squeezing her hand. "How is the wedding planning going?"

"Well enough," Isabella said with a smile. "I don't know how I'd do it without my mother. I had no idea how much goes into getting married."

"I didn't either," Harry chuckled. "Have you found your dress?"

Her eyes lit up excitedly as she nodded.

"I have."

"And?"

"And nothing. You don't get to see it until the wedding day."

"I didn't know that was a magical tradition."

"It's not, not really; I'm just not showing you."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the woman, shaking his head amusedly as she returned a stubborn glare.

"You know, I think you would have fit in well with the rest of the Slytherins," he sighed.

"Is that so?"

He offered her a nod as he grinned.

"They could be quite evil too, at times."

Isabella rolled her eyes at him before resting her head on his chest.

"Stop being dramatic," she sighed. "It's a dress. It's not as though I'm keeping anything else from you."

"That's a dangerous thing to say."

She grinned as she looked up at him.

"You are going to get yourself in trouble."

"I've spent my whole life in trouble," Harry pointed out.

Isabella hummed.

"I suppose that's true," she conceded, brushing her lips against his. "I don't think you could really be in any more trouble, could you?"

(Break)

He'd all but dragged his parents away from the breakfast table, both still bleary-eyed as Cedric had told them of what was going to be happening today. His mother and father had been taken aback, and had a plethora of questions, but much to his relief, had complied, much to his relief.

"Weddings take time to plan, Cedric," his mother chided. "You need to book a venue, catering, and all manner of things."

Cedric shook his head at the woman who had been served coffee in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

"We don't want any of that," he said dismissively. "We just want to get married without any of it."

"Are you sure?" his father asked.

"I'm sure," Cedric assured the man with a smile. "I know you're not happy with how this has happened, but this is what we want."

Amos nodded.

"I admit, I was not pleased with you, Cedric, but you are taking responsibility. If this is the wedding you both want, you, of course, have my blessing."

"Thanks, Dad," Cedric replied appreciatively as the kitchen door opened, and Nymphadora entered with her own parents.

As ever, Cedric immediately felt on edge around Andromeda Black, but the nod of approval he received from Ted relaxed him.

"Amos," Andromeda greeted Cedric's father.

The man stood and took Andromeda's hand, kissing the back of her knuckles.

"It has been some years, Andromeda," he returned.

"It has," she agreed with a smile. "Are we going to be having a negotiation before this happens?"

Amos shook his head.

"I don't believe that will be necessary. The prats are apparently in love. I'm sure you remember how that feels."

A ghost of a smirk crested the woman's lips as she nodded.

"Is this it?" Sirius cut in with a frown.

"Are we missing something?"

"Witnesses," Sirius sighed. "You must have one that isn't related to either party for it to be legal."

"Bugger," Cedric groaned. "Wait, I can see if Harry is home. He'll do it, even if it's just to take the piss."

"Use the floo in the study," Sirius instructed. "It's the only one connected to his place. Just call his name when you've thrown the powder in."

Cedric nodded gratefully as he took his leave of the kitchen and made his way up the nearby staircase. Entering the study, he did as he was bid, throwing a handful of floo powder into the flames before clearing his throat.

"Harry Potter."

After a short delay, he placed his head into the fireplace and found himself looking into a modestly decorated living area.

"Harry, are you there?" Cedric called. "HARRY!"

The shirtless man stumbled into the room a moment later with his wand in hand.

"Diggory, what the bloody hell are you doing?" he grumbled. "Why is your mug in my fireplace?"

"Come on, I need you to come to Grimmauld Place. You need to be a witness for my wedding!"

"Bloody hell, how long have I been asleep? Your wedding?"

"We decided to get married today," Cedric explained. "Sirius is going to the ceremony."

The other man shook his head bemusedly.

"Harry, what's happening?"

Cedric's eyes widened as the woman walked into the room with only a duvet wrapped around her shoulders. Noticing him, she ensured she was completely covered.

"Bloody hell, Potter, you should've said you had company," he groaned.

"You shouldn't be a nosy git and interrupt people first thing in the morning. What the hell is wrong with you, Diggory?"

Cedric laughed and shook his head.

"This is brilliant; we need another witness. Come on, both of you can come through."

With that, he withdrew from the fire, chuckling to himself as he returned to the kitchen.

"Is he coming?" Tonks asked.

Cedric nodded.

"He is, but I think he will need a few minutes," he replied amusedly.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, you'll see," Cedric responded with a smirk.

It was around ten minutes later that the footsteps sounded overhead, and Cedric snorted to himself as he heard Harry's dulcet tones approaching the kitchen.

"I swear, if he's winding me up, I'm going to thump the git behind the ear," he vowed.

"Stop pretending you're not happy for him, Harry," the woman he'd been with chastised lightly.

"I'll be happy for him after I've thumped him."

Cedric laughed.

"Is he still moaning?" he sighed as they entered the kitchen. "I'm sorry we weren't introduced earlier. Harry's manners have always been lacking, but then again, he seems to be treating you well enough."

The woman blushed slightly, and Harry shook his head.

"Shut up, Diggory," he grumbled. "Are you really getting married?"

Cedric nodded, unable to ignore the poorly hidden smirk Sirius was sporting.

"Hello, Isabella," the man greeted her.

It was only then that Cedric recognised her. It had been years before Hogwarts since he'd seen her last. He was surprised that she and Harry knew one another, but he would get the details from his friend later.

For now, he had something more important to tend to.

"Hello, Sirius," Isabella replied.

"Good night?" Sirius questioned with a grin.

"Oh, shut up," Harry huffed. "Are we getting on with this?"

Cedric nodded, and Sirius began arranging all of the required documentation whilst both sets of parents in attendance remained quiet, both looking towards Harry and Isabella in shock.

Clearing his throat, Sirius gestured that he was ready, and with a final look towards Harry, he saw that the other man was smiling contently, holding hands with his own bride-to-be as the ceremony got underway.

(Break)

Godric's Hollow.

This is where it all began more than a decade and a half ago, where he'd made his ill-fated mistake and he'd toyed with old magic he knew not.

The Dark Lord had learned from his error, and though he knew he was a much more accomplished wizard than Potter, he was not taking anything for granted.

He could not allow his pride to be his downfall, and he could no longer be so dismissive of the boy. If he did indeed possess the Elder Wand, he was a true threat.

Pausing as he reached where the Potter home was hidden beneath a plethora of preservation charms, he felt a chill run down his spine.

He had not come here for a stroll down memory lane, nor to torment himself for his previous foolishness. No, what brought him here was his investigation into the Peverell family, who had hailed from this very village.

The Dark Lord found it rather odd that such a seemingly insignificant place had produced so many of note. Was there something here that caused it?

He couldn't be certain, but he could think of no more perfect place for it all to end exactly where it had begun between him and Harry Potter all those years ago.

"Soon," he murmured to himself as he made his way towards the nearby cemetery. "It will all be over soon."

With his plans and preparations in motion, their final confrontation was on the horizon, and when it came, the Dark Lord would ensure that Potter would breathe his last, that the boys' legacy will be his annihilation at the hands of Lord Voldemort.