CHAPTER 2:

REUNION

Cowards and fools, the lot of them, a certain someone reflected the next day. While he hadn't been the one to cast the Dark Mark this time, someone had. And not those cowards and traitors who claimed to be under the Imperius. No, they had fled like rabbits when that had happened, after making a great show of pretending to be wolves.

That little drama involving Crouch's House-Elf and the Weasley brat's wand was amusing and interesting enough, he supposed. He had an inkling Crouch had an entire mausoleum's worth of skeletons in the closet, and this was related to one of them. And Crouch's paranoia and intent to cover up whatever sin Winky had nearly exposed had led to him dismissing the poor thing.

Still, this would be a touch awkward to deal with. He had his plans in place for Magical Britain. And yet, someone else's plans were clearly underfoot. He had a rival, and one thing he did not brook any interference from was rivals. It was why he killed the Granger girl.

The main reason was to hurt Harry Potter, true, but the girl, despite her bossiness and her blinkeredness, was also scarily intelligent and perceptive. She might have noticed things others had not. Changes that he didn't want anyone to notice, and unlike the Lovegood bitch, she might be believed by certain corners. Besides, a Mudblood's demise would draw less attention than a Pureblood's, and her house wasn't warded. He didn't want to test himself against the Black domicile, let alone the Rookery.

He killed her and her parents swiftly, as much as he wanted to Crucio them into twitching cretins. He did so to ensure he wouldn't be caught. The Dark Mark was displayed as a warning, against complacency, against comfort. Nobody was safe from his power.

He idly wondered if he could find the Resurrection Stone and use it to bring that Mudblood back from the dead. Even as a wraith as the Tale of the Three Brothers claimed, maybe he could Crucio her ghost. It would be interesting to find out. Then again, the only Hallow that mattered was the Elder Wand, as useful as the others could be, especially in ensuring he was the immortal Master of Death.

Still, these reports of a mysterious group decimating those cowards and traitors was concerning. He knew they weren't on his side, even if they had only slain those treacherous cowards. And apparently Macnair had been about to murder Harry too before they intervened. A shame, really. That would have been a perfect capstone to the evening.

So were these interlopers a threat? He didn't know. But he intended to find out…

When Harry came back to consciousness, he was in bed, hearing an argument. "…See what the problem is, Crouch. Harry was concussed, his memory of these events scrambled," Sirius said. "Saul even looked through those memories for you. He only caught glimpses of Dun Scaith, he was nearly murdered by Macnair, and he certainly did not see who cast the Dark Mark."

The harsh tones of what had to be Barty Crouch Senior rang out. "I'll be the judge of that."

"You're no longer the head of the DMLE, Crouch, and given how you nearly sent me to Azkaban without even a token kangaroo court, even with Lily giving evidence, not to mention what you did to your own son…you're an overzealous dried-up turd in a suit(1), and you shouldn't have even been shuffled sideways into International Magical Cooperation. Even being promoted sideways is too good for you."

"That's rich coming from a Black. Once a Black, always a Black. Bellatrix was a murderous lunatic whore, and Narcissa is an accomplice to that husband of hers. You're yet another snake in the grass like your whole misbegotten line."

Then, the rasping tones of Saul Croaker rang out, Harry having met him on occasion both before and after his mother's death. "And you are an overzealous fanatic and a hypocrite, detesting the Dark Arts, and yet authorising Aurors to use the Unforgivables against Voldemort. Lethal force is one thing, I can understand that, but mind-control, torture? And wasn't your mother a Black(2)? How easily you forget things that are inconvenient to you. The only difference between you and your son is that you never once showed any remorse, genuine or not."

An indrawn hiss of breath, before Crouch snarled, "Slanderous scum. I think I will have Umbridge perform a surprise inspection of the Department of Mysteries. Let's see if you spout such calumny then. I would say good day to you, but that would be a lie."

Soon after Crouch left, Sirius said, "Harry, it's safe to open your eyes now. I could tell you regained consciousness. Breathing patterns are very distinctive."

Harry opened his eyes, and sat up gingerly. Sirius, Nymphadora, and Croaker were there. And he recognised the room as being a room in St Mungo's. "Are Andromeda and Ted okay?" Harry asked. "And the Muggles, the Roberts family?"

"Mum and Dad's all right, they're working on the worst of the wounded downstairs as they're brought in from Dartmoor," Nymphadora said. "As for the Roberts family, they're okay…though the father's pretty badly fucked in the head thanks to all the Obliviations, poor sod."

"What do you expect?" Sirius said, shaking his head. "Frequent Obliviations in quick succession can cause degrees of brain damage not unlike severe concussion. Probably not permanent damage, but nobody has done any real studies, except maybe the Unspeakables. Leaving aside those done to remove the memories of he and his family being tormented by those bastards, he was Obliviated repeatedly because he kept noticing how the wizards, despite being warned to dress and act like Muggles, did anything but."

"…And my concussion?" Harry asked.

"Andy spelled a potion into your gullet to treat it," Sirius said. "You're free to come home. However, before Crouch made himself known, we had an interesting…meeting, of sorts."

"A meeting?" Harry asked.

Croaker shrugged, even as he waved a hand, and Harry felt the distinctive sensation of an Unspeakable-style Privacy Charm settle into place. "As you know, Harry, I've been in talks to make you my apprentice. I'll be damned if I let such potential go to waste."

"I know this, Croaker, you told me this before," Harry said in a tight tone.

"I'm just reiterating matters to be sure it's fresh in your minds," Croaker said. "In any case, just before the Quidditch World Cup, I was contacted by someone. That someone was the one who saved your life last night from Macnair. She calls herself 'Scathach', after the warrior-queen and sorceress of Irish and Scottish folklore, and her organisation, the one that decimated the so-called former Death Eaters last night, Dun Scaith."

Nymphadora scoffed, crossing her arms. "Technically, as a rookie Auror, I should be champing at the bit to bring them in, but…I saw what those so-called former Death Eaters did to those poor Muggles, never mind all those spells they hurled about. That being said, apparently, Fudge is on the warpath, and if you overheard that, so's Barty Crouch, wanting the Aurors to track down the murderers of so-called 'innocent, upstanding Purebloods'. Dun Scaith buggered off not long after the Death Eaters did."

"The Death Eaters fled?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Most of the survivors fled from Dun Scaith, but the rest buggered off when someone cast the Dark Mark. Turns out, Crouch's bloody House-Elf supposedly cast it, and with Ronald Weasley's wand. Serves the little git right for how he treated you," Nymphadora said with a shrug.

Harry couldn't help but snicker at Ron Weasley getting some comeuppance. While nowhere near as nasty as Neville, Ron was a lacky who tried to get some of the reflected glory of the Boy Who Lived, and who treated Harry like crap. So too did that brat Ginny, looking to hook up with the Boy Who Lived, especially after he saved her (supposedly) from the Basilisk and its controller, a Horcrux of Voldemort in a diary. The Twins were fine, and Percy was okay when he wasn't being an uptight arsehole, and Harry got along well enough with Arthur and Molly. But their youngest kids? Harry wanted nothing to do with them.

"Of course, Crouch dismissed that poor House-Elf of his," Nymphadora continued. "I actually think it's a load of horseshit that Winky was the responsible party. Crouch wouldn't have done it himself, but I think he knows or suspects who's responsible, and that arse is covering it up. Unfortunately, he has enough influence to stymie any attempt at finding the truth, especially among Aurors who reckon he should've been the Minister instead of Fudge. Bloody hell, I'd rather have Madam Bones or even old Scrimgeour as Minister. I'd even rather have Fudge. He's mostly useless and in the pocket of the Blood Purists, but he's nowhere near as much an arsehole as Crouch."

Croaker cleared his throat. "In any case, Scathach came to me with an offer. After some thought, I accepted it. What's more…they may be able to remove your Horcrux."

Harry gaped in astonishment. He could scarcely believe it himself, but hope that his Horcrux in his scar could be safely removed had been thin on the ground, ever since he first learned about it from Croaker a few years back. Hope was a pretty cruel emotion anyway, rarely fulfilling expectations. But drowning men would clutch at any straw they could, though. He hoped Croaker was right.

But then, a thought occurred to him. "Croaker…" he said. "How did they know about the Horcrux?"

"You'll soon see," Croaker said. "Miss Tonks, along with Sirius, have already met Scathach. However, we thought you'd want to see for yourself who she is. In any case, they're currently in the Department of Mysteries. After we have you meet them, then we can get to the nitty-gritty of this matter…"

Harry was surprised that Nymphadora followed Harry and Croaker to the Department of Mysteries, Andromeda staying at St Mungo's for now to help with those hospitalised. The Ministry was a hive of activity…no, it resembled a kicked-over anthill more. The Dark Mark reappearing guaranteed that.

Thankfully, they weren't stopped on the way. The Head Unspeakable and an Auror (even a rookie) tended to prevent any questions being asked, of them, anyway. Harry still followed them. If there existed a means to remove that Horcrux in his scar safely, then he needed to take it.

After bringing them to the Department of Mysteries, Croaker swiftly led them through the various corridors and rooms of the vast underground complex, before they came to a break room, according to the sign on the door. But before they entered, Croaker said, "Now, Harry…you're about to learn Scathach's true identity. I understand that you'll be sceptical, given who it turns out to be, but…I ask that you keep an open mind."

With that ominous and confusing request, Croaker opened the door, to reveal a quartet of figures, three of them girls about his age, all dressed in similar figure-hugging bodysuits, mostly black with gold elements. The fourth, a woman, had her back to the door, examining something. Two of the teenaged girls, one of them blonde, the other having silvery-blue hair, were poring over a notebook at a table, while a black-haired girl was chewing on a bit of jerky while peering at a moving portrait on the wall. All three were buxom. "But Boss, I'm booorrred!" the dark-haired girl was complaining. Harry recognised the voice of the one Scathach called 'Delta' last night. "Delta didn't even get to hunt much last night!"

"We'll take you hunting once we get back to Alexandria, Delta, now hush a moment," came the warped, flanging voice of Scathach, who turned around, her hood still up, her face still obscured by some spell. "Ah, Saul. Have you gone through much trouble?"

"Not much more than when you get involved usually," Croaker said with a warm smile of his own. "Crouch seemed to think Harry knew more than he did. Then again, he's had a vendetta against Sirius Black for years, and while he doesn't think much of Augusta, the trash she spouts in the Wizengamot doesn't help. Stupid bastard thinks he's still head of the DMLE. He even dismissed his House-Elf for supposedly casting the Dark Mark with young Ronald Weasley's wand." Then, to Harry's shock, Croaker walked forward, and gently hugged the woman. "It's good to have you back…Lily."

Harry was struck dumb by that last word of Croaker's sentence. Lily? His mother?

The hooded figure turned to Harry, before lifting the hood away, her face blurring for a moment, before revealing one Harry hadn't seen for many years. A face he thought he would never see again. True, the red hair was cut somewhat shorter, there was a small but noticeable scar on her cheek that wasn't there before, and he had never seen her in a bodysuit out of some spy thriller or heist movie before.

But the woman standing in front of him was his mother, or at least looked a lot like her.

He looked to Croaker, who nodded. "It's her, Harry. Believe me, I had the tests done. If it's an impostor, they're not a Metamorphmagus or using Polyjuice Potion."

Nymphadora sighed. "Harry, if she's an impostor, she knows way too much to be a usual one," the Metamorphmagus hissed. "She told me a few embarrassing babysitting stories I'd wished she had bloody well forgotten!"

Sirius nodded while chuckling. "You think that's bad, you should hear the embarrassing stories she told me from our time at Hogwarts."

"In future, Padfoot," the woman wearing his mother's face said, rolling her eyes, "check the label on the bottle." She then returned her gaze to Harry. "…Hello, Harry," she said, her arms spreading out, ready for an embrace.

After a moment, doubts be damned, he entered that embrace. He wasn't sure what he felt, apart from a swirling melange of all kinds of emotions. Doubt, scepticism, fear…and yet, there was joy and relief. Despite what the Longbottoms and their cronies claimed, his mother was still alive and well.

He wasn't exactly crying, but…that was probably because he wasn't quite sure that this was anything but some cruel dream, or perhaps some impostor, despite Croaker and Nymphadora's words. He couldn't allow himself to cry for joy, for relief, because he wasn't sure this was real. He couldn't help but be guarded after everything he went through, with Hermione's murder, the expulsion after helping Buckbeak, nearly being murdered by Walden fucking Macnair…

And there was a question he needed to know first. As she broke off the embrace, her own eyes glistening with tears, he said, "…Mum…if that really is you…where have you been all this time?"

She looked to Croaker, who cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to the Unspeakable. "Lily was working in the section of the Department of Mysteries relating to space. That is to say, not just our space-time, but other dimensions. However, I strongly suspect that the experiment she was working on was sabotaged by none other than Algernon Longbottom, who was working here at the time. Unfortunately, he disappeared soon afterwards, and is, according to Gringotts, dead, and I have no proof he was involved, just circumstantial evidence. We knew Lily was alive, but we didn't know where she was."

"Girls?" the woman claiming to be his mother asked, looking to the three girls, who all removed rings from their fingers.

Harry was now staring. Delta now had wolf-like ears and a massive bushy tail that swayed behind her back. Her violet eyes also had slitted pupils. And the other two had pointed ears, not unlike…

"They're Elves?" Harry asked, seeing yet more unbelievable things, and all before breakfast. "Like, actual Elves, not House-Elves?"

The woman claiming to be his mother nodded. "Yes. Harry, for the last few years, I have been completely stranded on another world…"

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

Whaaaaat?!

So, this has gone through a LOT of different versions. I tried Lily going to the Eminence in Shadow world willingly, her being Truck-kun'd there with a side of time-travel, so now, I'm trying unwillingly.

1. Sirius' insult towards Crouch is one I've used before, and was taken from Liquid possessed by Big Boss' ghost's insult towards Colonel Campbell in the Metal Gear Solid parody webcomic The Last Days of FoxHOUND. Strip 215, if you want to know.

2. This was an edit I put in after WearyCurmudgeon reviewed this chapter in the Cauldron, claiming that Barty Crouch Senior's mother was a Black. According to the wiki, while this isn't confirmed, Charis Black DID marry into the Crouch family, and certainly Barty Crouch Senior could have been born to her, so for this fic, that is the case. Which shows how Barty is a hypocrite who wants to distance himself from the Black family by raging against anything Dark.