In the Crosshairs

Dragon Voldemort


Chapter 99: Pickering Place

Harry held Paul as they landed in Lupin's living room, Kristen stumbled, hurled onto the floor. Gia reached down, lifted her up.

"Hold onto Paul," Gia said to Harry, "Protect him."

"I need—" Kristen started.

"Tell her everything," Harry said, went for the door to the deck.

Harry carried Paul to the door to the balcony, the deck above, opened it, went through, into the cool night air.

"Don't do anything rash!" Gia shouted, chased after Harry, "Hold him, protect him."

Harry tickled Paul in his arms.

"Watch his smile," Gia said.

Harry sat on the reclining chair, it forced him back, Paul into Harry's lap. Harry lifted Paul into the arms. A wandless warming charm, and the tiny smile came back to Paul's face.

"Play with him," Gia said, "Focus on him."

"I didn't expect…didn't protect," Harry said.

"Got three of the four," Gia said.

"Fat lot that did for Kurt!" Harry snapped.

"Can we trust you?" Gia asked.

"Why'd you—" Harry started.

"Your record's against you," Gia said, "Because you care. Stay put, focus on the kid, please. Let it sink in while I get Kristen caught up."

"Ta," Harry said.

Harry tickled Paul a bit, watched the eyes, the ones that wouldn't know his grandfather ever again.

"It's called magic," Gia's voice said, she in the living room, "Harry's a wizard."

A cry, Harry tickled Paul a bit more. Sirius came out a few minutes later.

"Aw, I remember that when James held you like that," Sirius said, "Did the same thing."

Harry sighed.

"Wizards like things tidy and clean," Sirius said, "Your killing curse wasn't."

"Dunno what it was," Harry said, "Suppose Hermione could work out the charm."

"You did what you needed to do," Sirius said, "It's not pretty."

Harry shook his head.

"I know you," Sirius said, "You want to deal in jelly legs or perhaps a paralysis, but there's no threat in that, no deterrence, because they'll try again and again, wearing you down. Sometimes, the only solution is to kill."

"Too late for Kurt," Harry said.

Lupin came out, bit pale beneath the quarter moon.

"That young chap you caught," Lupin said to Sirius, "Kirkestone, bit talkative with Veritaserum. Once a week, they'd get the census to recent muggleborns. Only they weren't anticipating Harry being there."

Harry smirked, tickled Paul. Harry realized Gia's genius, Paul was a good distraction as the kid fell asleep in Harry's arms. A flap of wings, Hedwig, the white snowy owl, came to roost on the railing.

Sirius left.

"Sorry about Monday," Lupin said, "Think both of us were getting a bit raw."

"It…" Harry said, "Guess so, sorry about that."

"I think I can let you borrow the guest bedroom this weekend," Lupin said, "After that…you'll need other accommodation."

"Not sure what I'll do," Harry said.

"Dumbledore might have an idea," Lupin said, "Of course, he's sorting out the mess of a house."

"Gone," Harry said, "He gloated, Voldemort's in a good mood."

"I'll let you…" Lupin went back into the living room.

Below a tug with lights motored along the inlet.

"That is the safest spot for your grandson," Gia said.

"Given me a lot to think about," Kristen said, as she came out "You've known this the whole time."

"I look at him and I see what you see," Gia said, "Handsome, cute, a boy who wants to shower me in love. The serpent is a man that's been trying to kill him since he was born, because there's a prophesy that says Harry will be that man's undoing."

"Oh," Kristen said.

"That is what's been going on," Gia said, "There's magic that allows for easy impersonation, in a society with medieval investigation and justice."

"All your hints," Kristen said, "I didn't realize how bad it really was."

"They were after Paul here," Harry said, "I would've been the cherry on top if they'd succeeded."

"You liquidated two before my eyes," Kristen said.

"If I were faster, Kurt would still be here," Harry said, "Sorry…I was trying to keep magic a secret, like we're supposed to be doing, for revealing's a crime worse than murder. Bit tough when they invade and force me to reveal myself."

Harry caressed Paul's ears, the tiny face.

"But this is how we treat muggles?" Harry said, "We've forfeited any right to secrecy."

A slow tap of the cane.

"I would concur," said Dumbledore.

"I need to go back," Kristen said.

"Um…shh!" Harry said, "He's sleeping."

Kristen reached, lifted Paul, held him. Gia leaned over, kissed Harry. Kristen and Gia went back into the living room, with the baby boy.

"A compact tornado reduced the house to rubble," Dumbledore said.

"Yep," Harry said.

A flash of light in the distance, Harry wondered if he ought to discuss the tears he'd been seeing, the ribbons of light. Harry stood.

"Need to take her back," Harry said.

"How?" Dumbledore said, "Portkeys won't work until at least the morning. No fireplace around. Expect to fly her?"

"If I had to," Harry said, "Apparation?"

"Only for you," Dumbledore said, "She's a muggle."

"Yes she is," Harry said as he entered the living room.

Paul in Kristen's arms.

"Ready?" Harry asked her.

"How do you plan—?" Dumbledore asked.

"Because I can," Harry snapped.

"I'll hold onto him," Gia said, taking Paul from Kristen.

Kristen stood.

"Brace yourself," Harry said as he held her.

A thought, they disapparated. Kristen stumbled as they apparated, down the footpath toward Pine Court. Harry braced her, kept her from hitting the pavement.

"Rough," Kristen said.

"Gia thought so," Harry said, "You'll get the knack of it."

They went along the footpath, toward a pile of timbers, orange firebrick, and debris in the cavern of what used to be the house at 26 Oak Street.

"Kristen!" came the shout.

"Trevor!" Kristen replied to the officer in his thirties.

Trevor came up.

"Strange, weird," Trevor said, "A tornado in this area, very compact, and it took out your house. We found…sorry to have to tell you…your husband didn't make it."

"Is Frank around?" Kristen asked.

Harry understood, she'd gone into police chief in her mind, a way to steady herself against the raw emotion within her.

"You know why you can't get involved in the investigation," Trevor said, "Richard came by—I coaxed him down, he's at his girlfriend's."

"Kurt was murdered before we left," Harry said.

"Harry please," Kristen said, "Get Richard."

Harry worked his way through the emergency vehicles, a couple still had their blue lights flashing. Harry spotted a shimmer ahead in the headlights. Harry aimed his wand, illuminated the spot about fifty feet ahead, and it exploded. Blades flew, embedded themselves in fences, one small tree feel. Kristen rushed over.

"Harry?" Kristen asked.

"Another mine," Harry said, "Luckily went before I got too close."

"I'll come," Kristen said.

They went along the next footpath, toward Jen's.

"How much do you know about these mines?" Kristen asked.

"A bit," Harry said, "Too many ears to discuss here."

"This impacts me, my work," Kristen said, "I'd like answers."

"You've joined the club," Harry said.

They turned right at the T intersection with Maple Road. Harry went to the door in the row of houses, knocked. Kristen came up behind him. Flutter of bay window curtains, the eyes, footsteps, and the door opened. Jen.

"Come in," Jen said.

Harry and Kristen stepped in. Richard was on the sofa, box of tissues in hands.

"Mum!" Richard exclaimed leapt up.

Neither Richard nor Kristen left anything to doubt as the arms went around each other, the tight hug, the hands that worked into the shoulders, the sobs to each other.

"Dad?" Richard asked.

Harry shook his head, kept the solemn face, as those hazel eyes watched.

"Paul? Gia?" Richard asked.

Harry nodded.

"And we can skip the April first idea," Harry said, "Told her about magic, because the attackers were after Paul, a muggle born wizard."

"He's…so young," Richard said.

"They dress it up as an infant not making—that happens," Harry said, "Your Dad protested, stood up to them. I realized the threat too late, and he was struck down. Sorry for that."

Richard relaxed from his mother, the stature, the hazel eyes on Harry.

"Three of the four can't repeat their plans," Harry said.

"Three?" Kristen asked.

"Voldemort does not like cowards," Harry said.

Kristen began to explain. It took over an hour.

"It'd be nice to get back," Kristen said, "Bring Paul back here."

"Can only offer the sofa," Jen said.

"Paul—keep Paul away for now," Harry said, "We'll talk with them, ready?"

Harry held Kristen's hand, the focus, he apparated with her into Lupin's living room.

"Don't pull wool over this girl's eyes," Tonks said, "As you can't apparate muggles—"

"But I can," Harry said.

"Good liar," Tonks said.

Harry went out to the balcony, leaned on the rail, his hand stroked Hedwig's feathers.

"Miss. Prescott," came Dumbledore's voice.

"Can I…it's about Harry," Gia said to him, "Isn't there anything the Wizarding World can offer outside of death and destruction?"

"There should be lots," Dumbledore said, "Unfortunately, that's generally what they seem bent on offering Harry."

Gia came out, stood next to Harry.

"Long ways down," Gia said, "Suppose it'd hurt."

"Wasn't thinking that," Harry said, "Nothing actually."

"Think about the future," Gia said, her hand to his back, "Focus on that."

A tap to the cane, which stopped.

"I have an idea for a roof," Dumbledore said, "Won't be ready until sometime Sunday."


Harry sat next to Gia, Saturday morning, papers in her hands.

"How are you holding up?" Gia said.

"You wanted me to pretend it never happened," Harry said.

"Never saying that, because grief and loss, they're part of us," Gia said, "It seemed to be sinking you, so I'm finding you life preservers as best as I can, because it'd simply make the tragedy much worse to lose you. Capiche?"

"Guess so," Harry grumbled.

"Paul lifted you," Gia said, "Understand?"

Harry nodded. Gia's right arm wrapped around Harry's back, and she handed The Daily Prophet to him.

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Saturday 15 March 1997

Whiners, Again

Ministry of Magic spokesperson issued another statement in response to recent allegations made.

"Lies published on behalf of Potter are libel and will be prosecuted. This is very obvious to be an orchestrated campaign to undermine the foundations of the Ministry and subvert the rule of law. People hired into the Ministry are of outstanding character and perform their duties with excellence. Allegations based upon classified case files is improper and foolhardy at best, any amateur is certain to have trouble interpreting the contents of professional documents not taking into account all of the complexities involved.

"However, to answer certain concerns and issues brought forth, the mentioned case files will be examined to determine the likely source of the whiners' apparent misunderstandings."

"Gaslighting," Gia said, "Means they're not liking the publicity either."

Harry moved to the short retraction.

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Retraction of Article

Editors here at The Daily Prophet formally retract yesterday's article "Corrupt Ministry Investigators" written by Rita Skeeter.

"Again, liability," Gia said, "And this still made the front page."

Gia pointed, Harry read it.

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Wrongly Castrated

by Rita Skeeter

Ronald Weasley was wrongly convicted in the rape of Natalie MacDonald for he did not commit the crime in question despite the Ministry's assurances; this means that a teenage boy was robbed of his manhood during an atrocity that this community termed "punishment". Our Minister of Magic still claims that this matter had been appropriately handled. Despite this new revelation, Ronald Weasley has no means of legal recourse under the terms of the SDWCA.

The exonerating evidence lays in the very substance used to convict, semen found on MacDonald's body and collected during the autopsy. Yours truly analyzed this semen using a technique known as DNA; the semen did not come from Weasley, therefore Weasley is innocent of the crime he committed. If the Auror investigating had done his job properly, Weasley would still have his stolen family jewels.

"That's Ron airing his dirty laundry," Gia said.

Harry groaned, moved to the other smaller article.

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Macnair Retired

Walden Macnair, Chief Executioner and a member for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, retired yesterday after a long tenure at the Ministry of Magic. Fellow coworkers wished Macnair the best of luck enjoying his golden years.

"That's…interesting," Harry said, "I killed him…and it's not stated?"

"Definitely a retirement," Gia said.

Gia opened The Daily Telegraph, her eyes read into it, and Harry spotted the one article.

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Compact Tornado Hits Noigate

Late last evening, a compact tornado hit the medium sized town of Noigate, an hour south of London. This tornado touched down and took out a single house along the well to do Oak Neighborhood, and dissipated. Reporters witnessed the removal of one apparent victim. While tornadoes are unusual events for England, they are not unheard of. Weather scientists are still baffled about the weather conditions surrounding this event.

"Voldemort…" Harry said, "Guess that's tough to explain without magic."

"And mourn Kurt," Gia said, "It's good that you don't ignore people dying. It's also good to live to fight back, and to be there into an old age with me. Imagine you with gray hair, or will you go bald?"

"Dunno," Harry said, he hadn't considered that.

Gia kissed him.


Harry yawned and stretched as he woke up Sunday. An owl dropped a letter to Harry onto the blankets, and he sat up.

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Harry

You and Ron—lay off with the press! Got coworkers suspecting me to be the leak, and their inquiries interferes with me to uncover everything first! As it is, it'll take some time to smooth things over, this'll delay my research.

Percy

"He should talk to Ron," Harry grumbled.

"Calm down," Gia said.

Her hands to his shoulders.

"Reminders," she said.

Harry felt her hand down his back.

"Breakfast," Gia said.

"Alright," Harry quipped.

Gia pulled Harry down the stairs into Lupin's dining room, and sat him at the table, handed him The Daily Prophet.

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Sunday 16 March 1997

Ministry Defends Conviction

A spokesperson for the Ministry of Magic responded to yesterday's allegation. "The Ministry stands behind its investigators and decisions regarding the criminal investigation. The investigation in question was full, complete, and thorough even though the reporter did not obtain access to the entire case file. DNA, the technique quoted, is a fallible Muggle thing that is inadmissible in any Wizarding trial.

"Bunch of dumb arses," Harry muttered.

"Covering their arses," Gia said, "Politicians squashing the scandal to ensure it happens."

Harry glanced at the next bit.

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Retraction of Article

Editors here at the Daily Prophet formally retract yesterday's article "Wrongly Castrated" written by Rita Skeeter.

"And you, Mister," Gia said as she opened the cauldron lid, her eyes on Harry, "You need to eat."

Gia pulled out the cauldron cakes, stacked them on the plate. Harry glared at her, she glared back.

"May I speak with you?" asked Dumbledore, stood there unsteady on his cane.

Harry gestured, Dumbledore sat.

"I mulled over your living situation," Dumbledore said, "Under normal circumstances, you'd be at Hogwarts, however, things are not normal."

Harry shook his head.

"You have friends who'd host you," Dumbledore said, "However—"

"It'd be ruined in a week," Harry said, "As would any flat I rent—well, nearby enough to Noigate for Gia to stay in school."

"Hear me out," Dumbledore said, "I am the executor of the Potter estate."

"I'm not dead," Harry stated.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Your parents," Dumbledore said.

"Them?" Harry said.

"They had no will," Dumbledore said, "You were too young, so I stepped up and I've ran it with their values."

"Me to the Dursleys?" Harry said, "They wouldn't have chosen that—in fact—"

"Save that for another time," Dumbledore said, "You know of your personal vault, I made sure Hagrid gave you the key."

Harry nodded.

"And…the family trust?" Harry asked.

"You know of it?" Dumbledore said, "Yes, I'm custodian of that, which matters because it has properties, a house which isn't too far from Noigate, think it's close enough to allow Gia here to still attend her school."

"It's in my name?" Harry said, "How long until Voldemort—"

"Trust me to be more clever with the deeds," Dumbledore said, "None of them has your name on them."

"Um…" Harry muttered.

"It's a house?" Gia asked.

"Nothing fancy," Dumbledore said, "Ordinary."

"Worth a look?" Gia asked Harry.

"Alright," Harry said, "If it's lousy, we'll camp instead, like hobos."

Gia groaned.

"Meet me in an hour at the end of Pickering Place," Dumbledore said.

Dumbledore stood, disapparated.


Harry and Gia apparated into Noigate, to the grass around where 26 Oak Street had once stood. A makeshift memorial in front. Harry flicked his hand, the broom came out.

"That's a problematic broom," Gia said.

"I'd rather get lost in an alternate reality with you," Harry said, "We've got mines and enemies across this town."

Harry got on, Gia behind him, and he flew up.

"Where's Pickering Place?" Harry asked.

"I…dunno," Gia muttered.

Harry spotted a bus stop with a map, he landed, and peered over it, shook his head.

"Guess we check them all," Harry said, "Holler if you see it."

Harry went back up, renewed the Disillusionment, and moved along. Gia on his back, he moved over people in canary yellow, others in bottle green. Station to station, he flew to the edge of town, to Pickering Place, a lone road that started off by a junkyard, some houses, past the landfill.

"How far?" Gia asked.

One more house, a stretch, and the end of the road, where Dumbledore stood. Harry flew above them, spotted Moody's eye that tracked him, and landed; let the disillusionment drop. Dumbledore handed Harry a note.

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The property is 66 Pickering Place.

Harry shared this with Gia, when the vibration came to Harry's feet. In front of him, a house rose up out of the ground, with a dilapidated horse shed beside it against the chimney.

"Seems a bit cramped," Harry remarked, the tiny width, height, after being accustomed to the Osborns' unusually spacious house for Britain.

"Bigger houses require more work to secure," Dumbledore said.

Harry walked; Dumbledore leaned on his cane, tapped it as he went up to the front door on the right side. Dumbledore took out his wand, tapped three times on the door.

"Now you," Dumbledore said.

Harry's wand to his hand, tapped. Dumbledore pushed on the door.

"Appears stuck," Dumbledore said.

Harry pushed, the door opened a crack, refused to budge further.

"Step aside," Harry suggested.

Harry went back to Gia, and ran. Harry collided his shoulder to that door, pushed it open. Harry coughed as he stumbled, entered, kicked up the dust. Directly in front, stairs that went up, walls wrapped in green.

"Foolhardy," Moody growled, "What if something were on the other side?"

Harry went left, into a small living room in light green wallpaper, with a dusty dark green sofa and a dusty dark green armchair near the fireplace around a small coffee table.

"It's been abandoned for a long time," Dumbledore said, "Still, a surprise or two might loiter."

A tiny dining area, kitchen with antique appliances, shared the space with the living room on this ground floor. Gia went up the stairs. Harry scratched his head.

"Cozy, I admit," Dumbledore said, "Already comes with some wards and protections, so casting new ones won't show up in the Ministry, and it would be a home. As it's already in the trust, no announcement in the local paper, and it's close to town."

Harry turned, steadied his eyes at Dumbledore's.

"Best I can offer in short notice that's also suited to your circumstances," Dumbledore said, "I shudder at the thought of you having to become nomadic, to not have a place to call home."

"Harry!" Gia shouted.

Harry went up the stairs, the lavatory in blue immediate in front, a door to the left into one small bedroom, a door to the double left into another small bedroom. Her blue eyes on him.

"We need somewhere," Gia said, "We're being hunted wherever we go, so staying with anybody brings them risk."

"It's…cramped," Harry said.

"Over a pup tent?" Gia asked.

"It's…I'm uneasy," Harry said, "Can't pinpoint it."

"Try it?" Gia said, "We can always move on."

"Okay," Harry said.

Harry went down the stairs, back into the small living room. Moody spun around, the eye that roamed. Dumbledore sitting at the small round table in the dining area, roll of parchment and a quill on it.

"Catches?" Harry asked as Gia stepped up behind him.

"Only that you'll be the master of this house, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, "Repairs might be in order, you'll learn fast enough."

Gia's arms around his waist.

"We'll move in," Harry said, "If anything happens—"

"Then you will be prepared to handle it," Dumbledore said, "If not—well, some remodeling and it would then be well suited for future endeavors with her."

Harry glanced at the twinkling eyes, an idea that hinted to a need for more bedrooms, of the prospect of offspring.

"Read this first." Dumbledore handed Harry the roll of parchment. "Always read before you sign."

Harry stood there, glanced at the roll as he stretched it, the property assignment to him. He bent over, took the quill, and signed. A sharp twitch to his back, he grabbed the chair and steadied himself.

"Um…" Harry muttered, before he stood back up, leaned back against Gia.

"It's common," Dumbledore said, "Wards—"

"What happened?!" Moody stammered, "My eye, it's jammed and won't work."

"Wards here do that," Dumbledore said as he stood, "Good luck Mr. Potter. Expect my housewarming present shortly."

Dumbledore shook on his cane for a moment, left with Mad Eye Moody. Harry waved, shut the front door. Harry turned around, relaxed against the door.

"It's…" Harry started.

Harry went into the living area, a right along to the kitchen area.

"Need food," Gia said.

Harry turned into a nook, small door to the right, and he opened it. Inside, the bottom of stairs, a space of dust and darkness, one that reminded him of growing up with the Dursleys. Harry turned around, the small set of shelves, a small pantry around a back door.

"Guess there's space," Harry said.

Harry came to her.

"My house makes…" He studied the blond hair, the blue eyes. He leaned in, kissed her. "Lady of the house."

Harry wondered what Dumbledore's house warming present was going to be; still, he was the Lord of the house.

"Dobby is happy to serve Harry Potter!"

Harry stared at the House–Elf.

"Dobby promised greatness," Dobby said, "Dobby brought mail."

A pop, Winky showed up carrying a cauldron, a letter within.

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Harry,

A way to get mail delivered via a double blind mail drop, avoids unnecessary owls.

Dumbledore

"By the front door," Harry suggested.

"This permanent?" Gia asked.

"Dobby and Winky are not like other House Elfs," Dobby said, "Dobby and Winky get picked on to support Harry Potter."

"Dumbledore must've seen that," Harry said, "Yes, you can stay, you're more than welcome. There is a second bedroom—"

"Bad Elfs use rooms," Winky said, "Winky is a good Elf."

"Maybe…" Gia went to the pantry, opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs.

"Winky uses cupboard," Winky said.

"Okay," Harry said.

A nameplate appeared on the door. Dobby and Winky.

"That settles that," Harry said to Gia, "I'll go, get our things."

"Hurry back," Gia said.

Harry disapparated, felt the binding, fought it, overcame the splinching feel, and apparated into Lupin's living room. Wands drawn onto Harry.

"Harry," Lupin said, "Sorry."

Lupin and Sirius lowered them.

"Expecting?" Harry asked.

"I need to ward a bit better against Apparation," Lupin said.

"Oh, sorry about that," Harry said, "Tonks sorted the stuff out, right?"

"Dining table," Lupin said.

Harry took the few steps into it, the box on the table, with his name on it. Harry opened the box, inside, a tray of toffees on top, his backpack and his book–bag within. Harry closed it. Harry picked up the box, turned around.

"Sirius," Harry said, "Um…new place, should come—"

"It's your place," Sirius said, "Time for independence."

"You're—?" Harry started.

"Relax," Sirius said, "I'll be at the school tomorrow."

Unsure if they were hiding something from him, Harry glanced at Lupin.

"Be here tomorrow," Harry said, "Well…wait, suspension's over, haven't heard, guess I'll get a letter tomorrow informing me of another incident."

"Bit worn out from our tirade last week," Lupin said, "And the full moon is approaching."

"Oh," Harry said, "Um…later."

"Later," Lupin said.

A focus, Harry disapparated. Again, he felt the binding, his mind focused, and he apparated back into 66 Pickering Place. Dust already gone, he brought the box to the dining table and set it down.

"Up here!" Gia shouted.

Harry went up the stairs.

"Things are in the box," Harry said, "Richard's over at Jen's, right?"

"Should be," Gia said.

"Let you get sorted," Harry said.

Harry disapparated, apparated to Maple Road. He glanced about, no canary yellow, and went up to the house in the row. He knocked.

"I'll get it," said Jen's voice.

Jen opened the door.

"Harry," Jen said.

"Can I come in?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Jen said.

Harry entered. Richard stood there, leaning against the hand railing to the stairs.

"Harry."

Harry turned, Kristen on the easy chair in her sweats, Paul asleep on a bassinet nearby.

"Sorry I couldn't…" Harry started.

"What's done is done," Kristen said.

Harry took the steps, leaned over Paul, the idle face.

"Gia and me got a place," Harry said, "Bit too cramped to invite you lot in."

"I appreciate the gesture," Kristen said.

"Has two bedrooms," Harry said, "Still, small."

"We'll figure it out," Kristen said, "After the service—too many of those."

"Sorry," Harry said.

"I'll hold any your mail at the station," Kristen said.

"Ta," Harry said.

"If you're nearby," Richard said, "Morning runs?"

"Um…" Harry said, "I'd love to, but—expect it to get worse before it gets better."

Harry held Paul's ear.

"See you at Hogwarts," Harry said to Paul.

"At least I know the name now," Kristen said.

"And thank you for your generosity all these months," Harry said, "I…I appreciated it."

"You're welcome," Kristen said.

"I'll be going," Harry said, "See you at school Richard, Jen."

"See you," Richard said.

Jen waved. Harry disapparated.

Harry apparated into the living room of 66 Pickering Place.

"Upstairs or here?" Harry said to Hedwig, "We'll see to multiple perches. No point to one or the other, right?"

Hoot!

"Up here!" Gia shouted.

Harry went up the stairs, the hard double left into the bedroom. Double wide bed already there, beneath the Puddlemere United robes on the wall. Hedwig's perch to the side, on the shelf beneath the window, and Hedwig flew onto it. Harry found the box of owl treats, opened one, handed it to her.

Hoot!

Harry stroked the feathers, watched her eyes as she nibbled at it, the crumbs that landed on the shelf.

"Not standard," Harry said.

"Dobby's good," Gia said.

"Dobby is happy to serve Harry Potter," Dobby said.

"Um…" Harry said, "Need subscriptions to The Daily Telegraph and Daily Sport, mind?"

Dobby vanished.

"And I…" Harry grabbed his book–bag, went out, down the stairs, to the dining table.

"Ron and Hermione?" Gia asked.

"They're on their holiday," Harry said, "Tell them tomorrow."


Ron stood there, skin still warm from the sunshine of their holiday, in front of Hermione.

"Best to study," Ron said, "Harry?"

Hermione stood, grabbed her book–bag. Ron pulled out his Portkey, activated it. A jerk behind the naval, they were pulled and flown away. Ron dropped as they fell.

"What?!" Ron stammered.

Ron hit the ground covered in broken timbers and tile, along with Hermione.

"That's brilliant," Hermione grumbled.

Ron's feet stepped out of it, the sun not as rich as the Mediterranean, still warmed a bit. Ron recognized the footprint, of the house that was at 26 Oak Street, except there's a chasm over where the half basement had been, the wet debris within.

"Where'd the house go?" Ron asked.

A glance around, unsure if there was canary yellow. Ron activated his Portkey, him and Hermione pulled back to the middle bedroom, where they landed.

"I'm finding out," Ron stated.

Ron went down the steps, to the living room. Ginny laughing.

"Bet you went to find Harry," Ginny said.

"What'd you know?" Ron demanded.

Ginny handed Ron The Daily Telegraph, already open to the article.

"Heard Death Eaters attacked," Ginny said, "Harry killed two."

"Where is he?" Ron asked.

"Azkaban!" Ginny snapped.

Ron studied those eyes, the ones that lied.

"DAD!" Ron shouted.

"Like he bothered to loiter around you," Ginny said.

Hermione came down the stairs.

"Why are you fancying marriage with that bloke?" Ginny said, "We don't take returns."

Ron took out his Portkey, thought about it. He kissed Hermione, and activated. Hermione touched, held on. Jerk behind the naval, they were pulled, except felt as if they hit a wall, and fell. Water beneath them, their feet landed on rocks, the inlet ahead of them.

"What?" Hermione asked.

Ron's wand in his hand, he disillusioned himself. Hermione did the same. Ron summoned his broom.

"That?" Hermione asked.

"Prefer to walk?" Ron asked, pointed up the cliff face, "Or climb?"

Ron got on the broom, Hermione held tight after getting on behind him. Ron flew it slow, gentle, upward to the familiar balcony.

"Oh," Hermione muttered.

They landed on the balcony, the glass to the living room, and Ron knocked. In the worn suit, Lupin opened the door.

"Sorry about that," Lupin said, "Best to not stay long."

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked as he entered the house. Hermione with him.

"I'm not at liberty to say," Lupin said.

Ron watched those sullen eyes.

"You know?" Ron asked.

"No," Lupin said, "Should be at school tomorrow."

"We—" Hermione started.

"I cannot tell you what I do not know," Lupin said, "Even if I did know, I suspect Dumbledore would forbid it. Sorry, I wish I could entertain, best to be off."

Ron unsure.

"Same way you came," Lupin said, "Portkeys here will no longer work."

"Fireplace?" Ron asked.

"Not wise," Lupin said, "Nor apparation."

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"Did I give you a clue?" Lupin said, "Sometimes, things change, it is not pleasant, but they do. I do consider you friends though. Please depart."

"Yeah," Ron muttered.

Ron mounted the Firebolt II.

"One thing," Lupin said, "Believe this is yours."

He handed over Ron's book bag. Ron ran the strap over his shoulder, and the bag rested against his hip.

"Disillusion first," Lupin said, "Go a ways before trying anything else."

Ron flicked his wand on himself, renewed the Disillusion as Hermione got onto his back. Together, Ron flew them both out, along the inlet.

"There!" Hermione pointed.

Ron spotted the man on the fishing boat in canary yellow.

"That's what he wanted us to see," Ron said, understanding the concern.

"When can we use the Portkey?" Hermione asked.

Ron flew a bit more until they came to a thicket of woods, landed in the middle. Ron took out the Portkey, activated it. She held on, and it pulled them back to that middle guest bedroom in Fred's and George's.

"They're after him," Ron grumbled.

"What do we tell Harry?" Hermione asked. She petted Crookshanks on the bed.

"Nothing," Ron said, "We tell Harry nothing about this, forget you saw it."

Hermione nodded.

"We'll have to discourage him from even going to Lupin's tomorrow," Ron said, "And we don't even know where he is."

"Guess we study," Hermione said.

"I'll give it one more try," Ron said as he put his book–bag down.

A focus, a thought, Ron concentrated on Harry, his wand did the swish and flick, and he disapparated.

HONK!

Ron apparated into the middle of the road, the car slammed on its brakes.

"Out of the road you fool!" came the shout.

Ron went to the sidewalk, stared at Moody.

"Care to lead the Death Eaters to Potter?" Moody spat.

Ron shook his head.

"Then go home," Moody said.

Ron spotted it in Moody's eyes, that Moody had seen Harry recently, however, a ward was in place within the mind making Moody unable to share it where it was. Ron thought, disapparated.

"Can you please knock?" asked Percy as Ron apparated.

Percy was on the sofa.

"I was trying to find Harry," Ron said, "Heard he got attacked by Death Eaters."

"Killed Macnair," Percy said.

"What?" Ron stammered.

"Some claim to self–defense," Percy said, "Macnair's dead."

"Paper said he retired," Ron said, "Why'd that not get published?"

Percy shook his head, shrugged.

"Look," Percy said, "Hanging out here's not the best of ideas."

"Owls get noticed," Ron said.

"One step ahead," Percy said as he stood.

Percy went into the bedroom, returned, handed Ron a stone disc the size of a galleon.

"It's a private fire," Percy said, "Used by investigators… controlled, so you best not get caught with it."

"Best not get caught with a lot of things," Ron said, as he opened up his holster. Ron counted his holster, his wand, his broom, and his testicles among the forbidden artifacts.

"Talk to you regularly with this," Percy said, "Way more secure than even a regular fire, these are magically bound together, they cannot be intercepted."

"Aw," Ron said set the disc into his holster, one that seemed to expand slightly to let it in.

"Whatever is going on in the Ministry," Percy said, "I agree, it's weird, I want it sorted out."

"You, me, Dad," Ron said, "Harry, Dumbledore, the list goes on. I see you, bring Harry along."

"After killing Macnair," Percy said, "Bet Dumbledore has his thumb on Harry."

"True," Ron said.

Ron disapparated, apparated back into the mirrored middle guest bedroom.

"Well?" Hermione asked, on her front on the bed, parchment on a board, quill in hand, as she worked on an essay. Crookshanks laid next to her.

"We'll have to wait until tomorrow," Ron said, "Dumbledore's up to something."

Ron wondered what Dumbledore had cooking.


Dumbledore stepped into his office, at Hogwarts.

"Albus," said Madam Pomfrey, her wand drawn on him, "You've been—you know what this means."

Dumbledore went to his desk, sipped the vile mixture from the cup.

"Your sand clock is running short," Madam Pomfrey said, "Every use of your wand consumes more of that sand, and I cannot replenish it."

"I have enough remaining," Dumbledore said.

"Then figure out how I can deliver Wolfsbane to Remus!" Madam Pomfrey said, "I tried to use Floo Powder, my package got ripped out of my hands before I made it. After brewing a second one, that owl got returned without it, with a note—should I repeat what it said?"

"Brew a third," Dumbledore said.

"I barely have time," Madam Pomfrey said.

Madam Pomfrey went for the door. Dumbledore picked up the letter from the desk.

=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=

Albus Dumbledore,

I spoke with Devlin and he's onboard with this preposterous notion, we'll lose the franchise! There, I needed to put my objection into writing, I'll ask you once more tomorrow before going through with the next step. Preparations to security and the facility won't be ready until next week at the earliest.

Coach Darrell Meyers, Puddlemere United

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" asked Minerva McGonagall.

"Maybe," Dumbledore said.

Dumbledore did know, understood through his observations that this was the right thing to do, even if it was a chink into the investments of the Potter Trust.

"And they are nearly done," McGonagall said, "Didn't you get my missive about the governors meeting?"

"I had more urgent matters," Dumbledore said, "Now it's this one."

Dumbledore steadied himself on the cane, walked with her to the stairs, that descended, to the meeting room, and entered.

"There you are," said Amos Diggory.

"Wish Cedric lived," said Dumbledore, "He will not be forgotten."

Copies of The Daily Prophet spread across the table, open to the articles of the previous weekend.

"There is sufficient doubt to reevaluate decisions in the past," said Cornelius Fudge.

"They're a bunch of whiners," said Minister Fallerschain.

"What decisions have you reached?" Dumbledore asked.

"The Minister will retain his authority to issue suspensions," said Amos Diggory, "However, in light of the doubts, we rescind the resolution requiring suspension without an investigation, so we return that discretion to you."

"Means never," Minister Fallerschain said.

"That is why you retain your authority," Cornelius Fudge said, "Must be severe enough that you hear about it, rather than Potter merely tripping over his feet."

Dumbledore was slightly worried about what was in store.


"Potter returns tomorrow," the Seeker said, "Best if we can deliver."

"Push the fool to find another victim," the Chaser said.

"You heard the man!" the Seeker said, "Deaths are tough to contain, your idea's brilliant."

"And it's not ready," the Chaser said, "Buggers keep getting loose."

"Fix it," the Seeker said.

"Maybe a week or two?" the Chaser said, "Besides, we need more hairs, so a delay's good, gives you time to collect."


Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024