Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

-oOo-

Chapter 18

24 Feb 24

-oOo-

This time on the Duel of Fate: The weight of prophecy…

-oOo-

July 27, 1995

Hogsmeade, Scotland

Gabrielle walked through the quaint little English town on the heels of her sister. They were both in flattering dresses with light cloaks and stylish thigh-high boots. Gabrielle enjoyed being able to be dressed up. She appreciated those that looked at her as a beautiful young woman. She didn't enjoy the glassy eyes or looks of pure lust in many men, even some women. Or how some had tried to approach them. Only Fleur's icy glare had kept them away.

Not that Gabrielle was that concerned.

Her wand tip was at the edge of her sleeve, ready to come out. At fifteen, she was more capable than most witches three times her age. Her maman and papa had wanted Fleur and her to know how to fend off handsy men. So far, her allure had mostly attracted stupid boys her age. In the last few months, that had changed. Fleur's allure was still greater than hers, but mostly because she was a young woman that was ready to 'rut', as their grandmaman said, much to Fleur's embarrassment and Gabrielle's humour. Gabrielle was starting to feel the urges to 'rut' and that urge to find a mate, whether it was just for fun or something more, she wasn't sure.

Thoughts of Harry, and the way he had saved her, had her bringing up other dreams and daydreams of the handsome boy…

"You are to stay quiet, do you understand?" Fleur instructed her for the tenth time today.

"How am I to ask to become his apprentice if I stay quiet?" she stressed.

"There will be a time and place to ask. I need him for my mastery in Charms. That is more important than your duelling," Fleur replied.

Gabrielle huffed. "You know I want to be a professional duellist. Master Flitwick is still the best. I struggle to beat either of his students and I am not unskilled!"

Fleur snorted. "Are you sure it is not because you look into Harry's eyes more than pay attention to his spell work?"

Gabrielle huffed again. "His eyes have nothing to do with this. Li has beaten me three of the four times we have faced off, and Harry has yet to lose to me. Harry should have won the last tournament if he had not been injured."

"True. He is far more impressive than most his age," Fleur said a little contemplatively.

"Fleur, you have other men that desire you. Leave Harry alone," Gabrielle told her older sister. She knew that some of her sister's attraction was the raw power that Harry possessed. It was a large draw to Gabrielle. It was the veela in her. It wanted to claim his power. It was the only boy she had met so far that had her feeling that way.

The fact he was handsome, bright and had the most intense green eyes she had ever seen was just a plus.

Fleur chuckled. "It would be a fun ride teaching him, but Harry Potter is not my mate."

Gabrielle bristled. "Keep your claws out of him."

"And you should too. It is not that long ago that his girlfriend was killed," said Fleur.

Gabrielle frowned. Meeting Harry Potter two summers ago at the U13 tournament in France had been a surprise. Gabrielle had thought she would breeze through most of the competition. When Master Duellist Filius Flitwick appeared with two young apprentices, it had caused quite a stir. The man hadn't had any apprentices in well over a decade and had reportedly retired to enjoy teaching. His students had both finished in the top five, with Harry finishing in the top three that year. It was a strong showing that only became better in the U14. Next year they would all be in the U16, and she doubted that Sue Li and Harry Potter wouldn't be at the top. It was a spot she desired.

When Fleur stopped by a house, Gabrielle looked around the small yard behind the picket fence. There was evidence that there used to be a garden here, but it was now an unkept lawn and a single apple tree. The house was in good repair, made of the local stone, with a thatched roof and white painted windowsills. What was intriguing was the feel of the wards. They were immensely powerful and were pulsing with power. It was enough to have her breath quicken.

It was confusing that the wards were so active but welcoming to them. She would assume wards like this would be turned against those that came near. The felt like it was turned inside itself though.

"Quaint," Fleur muttered.

Gabrielle smirked. Fleur preferred to be more ostentatious and probably thought a man of such stature as Master Flitwick should live in a grand mansion. From the prize money he must have won at the competitions, he should be able to afford more.

"I like it," Gabrielle said. She did. Grandmaman may live in a gilded castle in the mountains, but papa and maman preferred the simpler life, which Gabrielle found she preferred as well.

Fleur made sure her dress was straightened, smoothed it so that her curves were highlighted and her hair neat before knocking on the door. Gabrielle rolled her eyes, doubting the man would be impressed with her sister's looks. If rumours were right, he was close to one hundred and wouldn't be taken in by a nineteen-year-old tart.

They had to wait a few minutes after knocking. Fleur was starting to fidget, getting impatient to wait for Master Flitwick to answer the door. Gabrielle smirked, going through occlumency exercises to drive her sister up a wall with how calm she was being. It was a struggle as the wards increased in their intensity. Something about it called out to her. She wondered if Fleur's fidgeting was caused by it.

When the door finally opened, the diminutive man that greeted them was dressed in duelling robes and looked slightly surprised to see them. "Misses Delacour, it is nice to see you. I wasn't expecting you for another hour," he said, looking at the clock on the wall of the hallway.

"You agreed to one o'clock. It is a few minutes before," Fleur said, looking at her watch.

"I did, but it is only noon," he said.

Gabrielle smirked, getting what her sister had not. Fleur looked confused for a second. Master Flitwick smirked. "Did you come straight from France?"

"Oui," Fleur said.

"Do you want to explain or should I?" the man asked towards Gabrielle.

Fleur looked to her, her eyes narrowing. "What is there to explain?"

She giggled. "France is an hour ahead."

Fleur closed her eyes for a moment and started to silently curse to herself. Gabrielle had a huge smile and bowed to the man. "Master Flitwick, it is good to see you."

"And you, though I was unaware you would be accompanying your sister," he said.

Fleur sounded very agitated. "Yes. I did not trust leaving her as our parents are travelling for the next few weeks."

"Yes, I can see that being an issue. You can both come in and I will get some refreshments, but I do have a previous appointment that I need to attend to first," he offered.

When they stepped into the house, she was impressed. It was homey, with pictures and paintings. Many of the pictures were of Master Flitwick with others. She assumed opponents and students by the look of them. In the sitting room was the only sign that they had walking into the home of a master duellist. There was a case in the corner with the seven World Duelling Championship medallions, and various other awards. She could tell the man was a rather modest man by the way he portrayed his achievements. He was prouder of the people he knew than the titles he held.

"Please, take a seat. I'll be back in a few minutes," he told them before rushing out of the room.

"Why didn't you tell me we were an hour early!" Fleur angrily spat at her.

Gabrielle gave her a winning smile. "You never told me when you were supposed to meet. How was I to know?"

Fleur made an aggravated sound in her throat.

Master Flitwick returned with a tray laden with a few teacups, small café cups, a few jars and a small pitcher of milk. A carafe and steaming pot were hovering behind him. "Tea and coffee. I have three different teas in the jars. I need to go finish with my student, and then I will bring out some finger sandwiches and biscuits."

Gabrielle perked up. She knew who the magic belong to that was still flooding the wards of the house. "'Arry is here?"

The man's brow quirked up. "I don't think I mentioned who."

She felt her face flush, especially at the smirk Fleur gave her. "Gabrielle was hoping she might run into Harry. Something about a rematch and a wand polish…"

"Fleur!"

The man looked amused. "Mister Potter is here. I can make sure he says hello before leaving. If you excuse me?"

After the man walked out of the room, Gabrielle said in an angry hiss, "You said I was to leave him alone! Polish his wand!"

"But you would enjoy doing that, non? I mean, who wouldn't? It seemed long and stiff during your duels," Fleur commented with a mischievous smirk. Gabrielle knew her face was red, even if she did want to do something like that.

Fleur moved to prepare herself a cup of the delicious smelling café as Gabrielle glared at her. It was ten minutes later, with Gabrielle still fuming at her smug sister, when Harry walked into the room with Master Flitwick. She shot up, her anger at her sister forgotten to see the boy she had fantasized about for months now.

"'Arry!" she exclaimed, moving to hug him.

Harry was a little startled before his arms wrapped around her. "Hello, Gabrielle. Ah, hi, Fleur," he said over her shoulder. She backed up, her hands on his muscular arms, feeling he was rather tense and didn't seem to return her hug as much.

"How are you? I'm so sorry to hear about what happened!" she said to him in a rush.

His green eyes were balls of intensity that had her stepping back when she mentioned what happened to his girlfriend. She had only been able to read what the international papers had printed over the last month or so.

"Thanks," he said. The pain and hatred in his eyes were apparent. He also had slight rings around his eyes as though he wasn't sleeping well.

She stepped back in, subconsciously reaching for his hand. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. Master Flitwick, I'll be back for nine on Monday," Harry said. "If you excuse me, I have to get back home and take a shower."

She felt at a loss for words as he gently squeezed her hand back and then moved to the fireplace. "Titmouse Field," he called out before stepping into the green flames. Gabrielle was still standing there, just looking at the spot Harry had just been in.

"Is Harry doing well?" Fleur asked sounding concerned.

Master Flitwick sighed. "Harry has had some issues to deal with lately. He is not taking the death of Miss Abbott well, and her murderer was let off with only a slap on his hand a few days ago. Miss Delacour… Gabrielle, I would recommend you give him some space for now. He needs a friend more than he needs a romantic interest."

Gabrielle had tears stinging her eyes. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but not this.

Fleur put a hand in hers. "Gabrielle, it will be okay. Harry needs time. Focus on what we came here for."

Gabrielle nodded after a moment and moved to sit on the small couch next to her sister. Master Flitwick had taken his duelling robes off and thrown them over the back of his chair, leaving him in a long sleeve shirt, waist coat and trousers. He prepared himself a tea before leaning back in his chair. His attention turned to Fleur. "Now, Miss Delacour, you asked to meet. I am intrigued as to why?"

Fleur shifted to sit as tall as she could. Gabrielle tried not to roll her eyes as her sister stuck her chest out. "Master Flitwick, your skills as a Charms Master are known far and wide. I have read all your papers and treatises. It is how I got the idea to charm the dragon last year. I witnessed you doing something similar a few years ago at an exhibition…"

Gabrielle thought Fleur was laying it on a little thick but was still too caught up in Harry to comment. Master Flitwick leaned back into his chair, sipping at his tea as Fleur kept going on about his achievements and how she could learn from him. "… I would be willing to be your assistant…"

Fleur stopped when he held up a hand. "Miss Delacour, or would you prefer me calling you Fleur?"

"Fleur, please Master Flitwick."

He nodded. "Fleur, I already have two apprentices, a full-time load of classes and am head of house for Ravenclaw. I would be honoured to teach you, but I do not know how I would have the time."

Fleur looked crestfallen before rallying. "I am willing to do anything you need. Grade papers. Teach classes. Work with your apprentices. Please, Master Flitwick, I need a master and you are the best."

The man leaned forward with an intense gaze. "Fleur, we both know that flattery does neither of us good. I am not a vain man and I saw how you balked at your many possible suitors this year when they tried the same approach. Why do you want me to teach you? Why should I give up the last of my free time?"

Fleur looked slightly panicked for a second. Gabrielle spoke up. "She wanted to ask you first but didn't think she was good enough. My sister has been denied by the other three masters she has petitioned because we are veela. Fleur thinks you will not mind teaching her because of your heritage."

"Gabrielle!" Fleur snapped at her.

The man put his teacup onto the table between them. "Thank you, Gabrielle. Fleur, if we are to ever have a working relationship beyond that of just a student and master, you must always be honest with me. I stress that in any student I take on, especially the few mastery level students I have had. To become a master of anything, you must dedicate yourself to it. It will be many hard hours and years. Are you willing to dedicate yourself? The relation of master to apprentice is a bond far beyond that of just teacher and student."

In a kinder tone he added, "I also know the difficulties to be part of an elder race in the eyes of the younger. Our magic is not the same and many fear it. Tell me the truth, is your sister correct?"

Fleur flushed. "Oui. Most do not say it, but when people find out what we are, they are not always kind, and many countries close to home are not as accepting."

"Then why did you not find a master in France?"

"I want to see more of the world," she said.

"And who did you petition before me?"

Fleur bowed her head. "Masters Cartwright, Quinten and Carmichael."

"Those are all British masters and former apprentices of myself. Why not go to one of the countries of the MACUSA? They have laws to prevent discrimination," Flitwick pressed.

Fleur pursed her lips. Gabrielle took her hand. Fleur let out a sigh. "I owe a debt to Harry. His godfather has said that Harry is not interested, but you know the way debts are with people like us." Master Flitwick nodded his head. "I want to be close. I know who is back. If I can fulfil my debt by teaching him to survive or help him, I will."

"And is that your only reason?" Flitwick questioned.

"I want to be a Charms Mistress. I have seen what you can do in your NEWT classes and what your previous and current students are like. Neville Longbottom was three years behind my education, and he matched the skill of a standard sixth year at Beauxbatons and Cedric Diggory was better than me, as were many of his classmates. I have also seen what you have done with Harry and Miss Li. They will be the top duellists and charms masters in the world when they get older. I want to be that."

Flitwick nodded his head, seeming satisfied now. "And you, Gabrielle, why are you really here? I don't think your sister is that concerned you will burn your house down if you are left alone for a day."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Fleur muttered.

She shot a glare at her sister before focusing. She took in a deep breath and let it out. "I love duelling, Master Flitwick. Master LaBeouf is very skilled, but I feel I have learned all I can from her. As my sister said, I have seen what Harry and Sue is like. I want to be at their level."

"Master LaBeouf may never have won a championship, but she was always in the top tiers," Master Flitwick commented. "I have seen your skills. You are one of the top duellists of your age and will be one of the top when you get older."

"I don't want to be just in the top tiers. I want to be at the top," she said rather determinedly.

The man gave her a smile that reminded her of a goblin on the hunt. "That is a high goal. You are aware I already have two apprentices? Do you think you can be better than either of them?"

"With the proper training, definitely," she stated.

He chuckled. "Confidence is a good thing. Overconfidence can get you killed. Is there another reason?"

Gabrielle cast a glance towards Fleur for a second. "I also owe Harry a debt and Mister Black has told us Harry will not collect it in the traditional ways."

Master Flitwick sat back into his chair. "No, Harry would never. Never mind the change to the Potter House charter a few decades back. If you are doing this to only get close to him, I will ask you to leave right now."

The man was casual in his delivery, but it was unmistakable the man was very protective of Harry and ready to cast them both out of his house.

"We wish Harry no harm, Master Flitwick. Gabrielle and I are looking to be taught. You are one of the best. If we had other options and we did not owe Harry, I would stay away from the UK right now, but we don't. Maman and papa are away at the veela enclaves. There has been an uptick in flesh traders, and they are working with the goblins to enhance the wards. We need to be able to protect ourselves and those we love," Fleur told him.

"Thank you. I now understand," Master Flitwick said. The man contemplated his next words as he enjoyed a few sips of his tea. "I was rather foolish in my youth and made a vow that affects me to this day. I swore to not lift my wand against another unless it was in show, defence of others or my home. I had seen enough war and thought another would never happen in my lifetime. I am now looking at the fourth. I wanted peace back then. It was why I sought my own mastery when I retired from the duelling circuit. I will teach those that wish to duel, or go to war, if I think you worthy, but I will only stand at your side if Hogwarts or Hogsmeade is attacked."

"If you are both serious about this, I start my preparations for the next school year at the beginning of August. I will talk to the headmaster. If you are willing to learn, I can teach you to be a teacher and you can take over the first and second years in a year or two. You will have to commit to five years or more, Fleur," he told her, his black eyes boring into her sister.

"Oui. Oui. Anything. I want this," Fleur told him.

"And you, Gabrielle, are you ready to work harder than you have?"

"I work hard," Gabrielle protested.

"If you want to keep up with my apprentices, you are not. You will keep up your grades. I don't accept anything under an exceeds expectations. This coming year is the OWL year. I know that Beauxbatons sits in their sixth and eighth years, so you will have to work hard. It will take you most of August, possibly into the school year, to catch your physical training up to my other apprentices. Are your ready to commit?" Master Flitwick put to her.

Gabrielle rose an eyebrow. She was towards the top of their age group in the European circuit. Was she truly that far behind them? Her sapphire blue eyes met his black eyes. He was giving her a hard look and she didn't flinch, unwilling to act a meek girl. "I will do whatever is required."

"Good. I will send you a list of books and assignments. Once you receive your letter from Hogwarts, I will then give you the summer revision required, and you will be sorted into a house on the first day of school. You will have much to do before September first."

"What if I am not in Ravenclaw?" she asked worriedly.

The man leaned back, sipping on his tea as though unconcerned. "It doesn't matter which house you are in. I will give you a schedule and you will follow it. Personally, I think that the house system causes more issues than it resolves. If you are hungry, I can get the treats and sandwiches I have prepared and we can talk about what you each know and what your goals are between now and Christmas," he said.

Gabrielle's stomach rumbled. Fleur shook her head. "I do more than you, so I get hungry," she said defensively to her sister.

"Did I say anything?" Fleur put to her with a wry grin.

"I saw the look," Gabrielle retorted.

Master Flitwick sighed. "I thought it bad with Harry and Sue."

-oOo-

The same day…

London, England

Sirius, Andi and Dora were accompanying him to see the Unspeakables this afternoon.

Andi had a mask on that Harry was starting to understand was her being upset. Walking through the black stone door on level nine, they stepped into a circular room with many doors. He tried to count them a few times, coming up with a different number each time. All he knew was that there were at least twelve before the room started to spin.

After the room stopped spinning, Sirius said to the room, "We are to meet with Croaker and Soothsayer."

It took almost two minutes for a door to open on their left. Harry turned to see two people in grey robes walk out. He couldn't tell who they were. "You seek knowledge that is protected," the one on the left said.

Andi gave the figure a glare. "Croaker, if you do not show yourself, I will make sure you regret it."

The figure reached up and pulled its hood back. An older gentleman with grey hair, blue eyes and a muscular build for his age came out. His expression was emotionless, but Harry could swear he felt the man's hatred for them. "It is nice to see you again, Andromeda. Last time I met you it was just after you found out your daughter was a Metamorphmagus. How is Nymphadora?"

"It's Tonks, and I'm fine," Dora said from behind Harry.

The man blinked for a moment. "Has it been that long?"

"I will tell you now what I told you then, she is not some lab rat for your experiments. Who is this?" Andi demanded.

"Soothsayer," Croaker replied.

"I want to see their face," Andi demanded.

"That is not possible. You know the rules," Croaker answered.

"Then they do not accompany us," Sirius said. Harry wasn't used to being so quiet, but he had been told to only talk if he was asked too. He could feel the tension between them all.

"That is not policy. Any prophecy that is heard must be recorded," Croaker replied.

"Croaker, I don't care about your policy. You know the ancient laws. You cannot prevent us. Only the one that hears the prophecy, or the ones it's about, can decide who hears it, and there is no way that we will allow a family we are in a blood feud with to hear it," Andi deadpanned.

"Then we are at an impasse," Croaker stated. Harry thought he felt a small amount of smugness. He was about to say something when Sirius put a hand on his arm.

"You are violating the old laws," Sirius told him.

Croaker looked at them. "It is this way or nothing."

Harry pursed his lips. He suddenly got it. "Longpiddle tried to hear the prophecy and he couldn't? Deserves the wanker right."

"Harry, that is enough," Andi told him.

Croaker didn't change his expression. Sirius stepped to be a little before Harry. "I think you are right, pup. Let us through to the Hall of Prophecy."

"Director, it is their right," the figure behind Croaker said. It sounded female, but he still couldn't tell.

"We have our policies," Croaker stated.

Sirius nodded. "Andi, will you back a petition to sanction the Unspeakables for violating Wizengamot law?"

"We can call an emergency meeting tomorrow. I'm sure the Wizengamot will be pleased with that," she replied. "We can add this to the hearing next month as well."

Sirius scratched his chin. "We should go see Fudge. I hear the Daily Prophet and others are not pleased with the Longbottoms right now. I'm sure this will make the populous happier."

Croaker didn't change his expression. There was a seething rage in the man. "If you would follow me."

"That one is only allowed if they remove their hood," Andi stated.

Croaker took in a slightly sharp breath, as though he was controlling his anger. "Remove your hood."

"But, Director, I don't have clearance to expose myself," the Unspeakable said.

"We need the prophecy recorded. By Wizengamot law, they are allowed to know everyone that knows it," Croaker stated.

A moment later, the hood was pulled back to show a woman in her middle years with long blonde hair, silvery blue eyes and pale skin. Harry didn't know her, but she seemed familiar to Luna.

"Celeste?" Sirius croaked.

The woman pursed her lips. Andi looked incensed, "What is she doing here! This woman is supposed to be in Azkaban!"

Sirius looked livid. "She is not going to hear this prophecy!"

"Then we are at an impasse," Croaker reiterated.

"No! She is the one that betrayed the McKinnons and the Prewitt twins. She will not hear this," Sirius stated with all the force a Lord of the Wizengamot could.

"Who are the McKinnons and Prewitt twins?" Harry asked.

Tonks wand was up. "This woman is supposed to be in Azkaban?"

"If you use any offensive magic here, the wards will respond," Croaker stated, probably hoping to cause an incident. "Miss Dagwood has repented for her sins and has proven quiet adept at prophecy interpretation and meaning."

The woman looked at Sirius with pleading eyes. "Siri, I never meant…"

Sirius cut her off. "Croaker, we will be bringing this to the Wizengamot. I hope this woman is gone by then and I will make sure the DOM is defunded as much as I can."

Croaker glared at Sirius. "Lord Black, that would be a large mistake given the current environment and situation we find ourselves in. Miss Dagwood was never marked. I have sufficient evidence that she was coerced into her transgressions. It would be rather unfortunate if the Aurors find out about her employment. If you would, her current role is in Prophecies as she is the only clairvoyant we have. I would request she be allowed to accompany us."

Sirius looked livid. "Absolutely not! Neither of you will hear the prophecy, and especially not her."

Croaker sighed.

"Very well. You will not reveal her presence though," Croaker told them.

"I will have to report this to Head Scrimgeour," Dora said.

"No, you won't. This is covered under Ministerial Decree 1981-11-982. If you do, Auror Tonks, you will find yourself without a job and the Unspeakables will do their best to ensure you never find another," Croaker warned.

Harry was getting upset with all this. "I have a right to retrieve the prophecy if it pertains to me. Take me to it. I don't want this lady there and I don't want you."

Andi put a hand on his shoulder.

"I will have to be there. You can't be left in the hall by yourself," Croaker said.

"Did we say we would listen to it here?" Sirius asked.

"You can't remove it," Croaker told him.

"We can remove a copy," Andi said back coldly.

Croaker showed the first sign of emotion. "Only an Unspeakable would know that spell."

"Unless an Unspeakable was able to add it to a family library before the knowledge was forbidden," Sirius said with a grin.

Croaker glared at the man for a moment. "Follow me."

The woman was looking at Sirius with big eyes. His godfather gave her a look of loathing. Harry was going to have to ask him about that. He had never heard her name before, but it was obvious that Sirius and Andi knew her. Harry tried to remember every feature he could. If she was that bad, why would she be here?

They entered a room full of time-turners, a huge glass full of time sand and a tank that had brain like things with tentacles. Harry looked at them a little dubiously. "I am obligated to tell you they are all there because they are defective. Please try one," Croaker said over his shoulder and Sirius took his hand back and shoved it into a pocket. Croaker seemed disappointed.

The next room was a library and then into a hallway before going into the only visible door about halfway down. When they stepped into the next room, Harry was surprised by its size. In the dull lights, mostly from small glass balls on shelves spaced about a foot apart and going fifteen or twenty feet tall, he could see hundreds of rows with a central isle. The few rows closest to them, rows one-sixty-seven to one-seventy-five, were empty. "Welcome to Prophecy Hall Five. Row Ninety-seven has all the prophecies we are looking for."

"Prophecies? As in plural?" Andi asked.

Croaker didn't respond.

They walked through the eerily quiet hall, turned right at isle ninety-seven and stopped about halfway down. Croaker indicated the third shelf from the bottom. Harry knelt with Andi looking over his shoulder and Sirius crouching next to him. "If they are meant for you, you will be able to lift them off the shelf. If they are not..."

"What do you mean if they are not?" Harry asked.

"Please lift them anyways. If you think those in the Janus Thickey Ward are mental, they will look downright sane when the magic is done with you," Croaker said. There was a hopeful quality to his tone.

Harry wanted to snarl at the man but fought to keep his cool. He needed to know if he was involved in this. Andi and Sirius had stressed the importance of today.

Harry looked to Sirius for an explanation of Croakers statement. He paled a little. "It's where all those that have permanent issues go. You know, all those that go around the twist and never come back."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling apprehensive as he looked back at the shelf. He noticed that most of the orbs were on the shelf by date, but there were a few groups that all had similar labels. The first one that caught his eye had a tag that had his name crossed out. Longpiddle's name was just above his. "Bloody fuck! There really is a boy who lived?" Harry questioned.

"Apparently. Feel like becoming famous?" Sirius teased.

"No," Harry told him. He looked at the orb. Three others around it had Neville's name on them. "Longpiddle couldn't get any of these?"

Croaker didn't reply.

"Tell me that he tried to remove them?" Harry said hopefully.

"He is at home and quite in his right mind."

"Pity," Andi said from behind him. Harry would have said something else…

He reached out and touched the orb labelled for him. When he touched it, he noticed it felt warm, but that was all. He tensed when he picked it up, expecting a terrible thing to happen.

"Bloody hell," Sirius said.

"This means what we thought, doesn't it?" Harry asked.

"Most likely," Sirius commented.

"Hold it out," Andi said. She took out her wand and twirled her wand over the sphere. After a long incantation, another sphere formed in his hand. "Place that one in your pocket and put the other back on the shelf."

"I can hold it," Croaker offered.

Andi snorted. "Over my dead body. Even I know once it's removed from a shelf anyone can listen to it. Harry, do as I say."

Harry nodded, put the original back after putting the copy in his pocket, then lifted the next one. It came off the shelf as well. A few minutes later Harry had three orbs. He had a bad feeling when he went to pick up the last one and left it on the shelf. He could have sworn Croaker looked disappointed.

When they were walked back out to the circular room, Croaker said, "I would like to hear the prophecies. The Unspeakables can help if they pertain to You-Know-Who."

"We won't get back to you on that. I want to get out," Harry called out to the room. A door frame started to glow red. Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him towards the door.

"Croaker, get rid of that woman. My daughter may not be able to report her, but I can," Andi said. "If you keep her, I will have Harry extend the blood feud to the Unspeakables."

"That would be a mistake, Andromeda." Croaker looked at them rather icily.

"I will not have known traitors in the ministry. If I have my way, things are going to change around here soon," she imperiously told him.

Harry kept his hand on the tip of his wand in his right hand as his left was in his pocket keeping the orbs from clinking together. Instead of taking the floo when they made it to the atrium, Sirius went to the small phone booth. Sirius shook his head and Harry held his tongue until they were all on the street and walked two blocks away. "Why didn't we use the floo?" Harry asked.

Dora said, "The ministry floo fireplaces are able to log and copy any paperwork that someone has on them."

"We weren't sure if a prophecy orb would be able to be copied that way or not. Hold on, pup," Sirius said.

Harry took his arm and they apparated to the place Harry now called home. The cottage and farm were so much better than the orphanage, and he even enjoyed it more than Hogwarts. Inside, Ted was cooking a stew for dinner.

"How'd it go?" Ted asked.

"I need to call Amelia before we do anything else," Andi said, moving towards the fireplace.

Ted rose an eyebrow. "That good?"

"Celeste Dagwood is out of Azkaban and working for the Unspeakables," Sirius said with some venom.

Ted blinked, then swore.

"Who is this woman and why is a there a ministry decree? I will have to look it up on Monday," Dora told them.

"That isn't good," Ted frowned. "How about you, Harry?"

Harry reached into his pocket and put the three orbs onto the table before sitting down. His mind was more concerned with what was on the table than a mystery. "We got the copies. I'm surprised Croaker let us."

"He had no choice. Blood feud or not, Law and magic were on our side," Sirius told Harry.

"Three?" Ted asked surprised.

"There were four, but the last one felt wrong to pick up," Harry replied.

"I'm not sure there aren't more. I don't trust Croaker," Sirius said, going to a cabinet next to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle with an amber liquid.

"I'll have a glass," Dora said as she sat next to him.

"Ted?"

"Not yet. Get a glass for Andi though," Ted replied.

Sirius grabbed four small glass tumblers and put them on the table. Harry didn't really notice as he looked at the three orbs with swirling blue mist. "Are we waiting for Andi?"

"You better. Croaker is about to have a dreadful day," Sirius said, pouring a finger's worth into a glass, downing it, and then adding about two fingers worth to each glass. He put one before Dora, the chair Andi usually used and then Harry.

Harry looked at it. "Uhm, Sirius?"

"You may need it and you're almost fifteen. About time you start living," Sirius told him with a sour grin.

"Why would the Unspeakables get her out of Azkaban and then hire her? I want to report this," Dora said.

"Amelia knows," Andi said walking back into the room. "Harry, are you ready?"

"I want to know," Harry replied. "How do I hear them?"

"Tap your wand and just channel a small amount of your magic," Andi instructed.

Harry nodded. "Which one first?"

"I would go the oldest first," she said.

Harry looked down at the copied tags. The oldest was made in nineteen-seventy-nine. With a long breath, he did as instructed. An ethereal figure of a man rose out of the glass orb:

A child, marked by fate, shall be conceived…
Parents threatened by the dark...
Betrayed by those held dear…
The next one to challenge the Dark Lord…
A child, marked by fate, shall be conceived…

They all looked at the orb for a moment.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Sirius blurted out.

"Sounded like Lily got lucky that night," Dora said with a smirk.

"OI! I don't want to think of that!" Harry whinged.

Sirius gave a barking laugh while Ted chuckled. Andi looked pensive. "Was there anything on the label about who the child and Dark Lord are?"

"The copy looks like Neville's name was written later," Dora said, looking at the label.

"So, it just says someone that will challenge a dark lord will be conceived?" Harry put to them.

"That sounds about it. That marked by fate and challenge part bothers me," Andi replied.

"What does the next one say?" Ted asked pensively.

Harry tapped the next one made in March of nineteen-eighty. An eathereal form of the divination professor, Sybille Trelawney, came into view. They listened her to rather harsh and guttural voice as she spoke.

BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…He felt his gut clench more at this one as the ethereal image of the quack pot Trelawney faded.

"What power?" Dora asked.

"Harry hasn't been marked by You-Know-Who," Sirius said.

"Longpiddle was," Harry commented.

"But if he defeated You-Know-Who, the prophecy should have been fulfilled," Andi commented.

"I took divination, and it was all woolly," Ted remarked. "This could mean many things."

"Croaker didn't say, but it sounded like his nephew couldn't retrieve it," Andi stated, the distaste for the boy clear on her face.

"So that means Harry meets the criteria. Do you have any scars we don't know about?" Sirius asked.

Dora sat up, a grin on her face. "Oh, this could be good."

Harry felt his face heat a little. "Not that I know about. There is a birthmark…" he said, standing up and acting like he was going to drop his pants. Sirius started to laugh as Andi told him to sit.

"I checked you over myself. There is no birthmark," she said seriously. Harry still felt red in the face but needed the distraction. Sirius gave him a manic grin while Dora and Ted were silently laughing. Harry knew this was serious and didn't know why he was being so silly. After a moment, he said, "What does this all mean? I am some child of destiny or something?"

"There is the potential it is not active yet," Andi answered him. "You could be one of many this could pertain too." The adults all looked at each other. "Let's hear the third one, then we can talk about it," Andi encouraged.

Harry touched the orb. This one made just last year. Again, the shawled figure of Trelawney came out. She looked older and a little worse for wear:

The heir betrayed shall rise from the ashes...
The bonds of alliance shattered by deceit…
A power born of strife…
Fuelled in the flames of hatred and love…
Fates champion in the balance, darkness plagues their heart…
The angel's fire will fuel or burn the darkness…
The one not currently marked shall be made known…

The heir betrayed shall rise from the ashes...

Everyone was quiet. Harry pursed his lips. He had a sinking feeling and a sour taste in his mouth. "Does this mean me?"

"I don't know, pup," Sirius said.

"How many times did James and Lily fight You-Know-Who?"

"Twice, from what I know, but I think Fleamont was approached to join him," Sirius said. "James was asked to join at one point. We laughed about it at the time before we took the wankers in."

"What does that mean the 'heir'?" Dora asked.

"It could mean many things. The most obvious is that Harry is the heir to the Potters and Blacks. He has been betrayed," Sirius pointed out before taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand. "Just look at what the Longbottoms have done. At one time the Potter-Longbottom alliance was even stronger than my family. I think Fleamont and Charlus Potter and Erick Longbottom were the only men my grandfather either feared or respected, and a Black stood above all others."

"Then you have Peter," Sirius said with as much disdain as he had used for that woman earlier. "He stole the Longbottom's secret and had to be the one to tell my insane cousin where we were. No one else knew where that safe house was in London. It was in a muggle neighbourhood. We were ambushed trying to get there after having to abandon Godric's Hollow. We weren't using any magical transportation fearing the ministry had been compromised."

Harry clutched his hands into tight fists, his magic swelling. "The man should have been kissed."

"I don't disagree," Andi said. "Azkaban is too good for that monster."

"Easy there, Harry," Dora said, eyeing his glass as it rose off the table. His magic was starting to act up again.

"So, does this all mean I have to face the Dark Lord? I must kill You-Know-Who?" Harry asked.

"It doesn't mean anything," Ted said. He pointed at the orbs. "This only means that this could apply to you, but does anyone really know what these are talking about until everything is over?"

Sirius nodded while Andi was deep in thought.

"Have a drink," Dora said, taking the floating cup and holding it towards Harry. The fact Andi didn't try to stop it should have indicated how hard she was thinking of everything. Harry took the drink.

"Harry, whatever this all means, you won't be doing this alone. You have me, Andi, Ted, Dora, your friends and Filius. We have allies and others we are courting on the Wizengamot and in the Ministry. What happened last time won't happen this time," Sirius said in a rather serious tone. Harry met his eyes for a moment, still unsure about this whole family thing. Sirius saluted him with is glass after a moment. "Bottoms up."

"Sure," Harry replied. He put the glass to his lips and knocked it back. It didn't burn like fire whiskey, but he still didn't like the taste or the feeling. He coughed and spluttered a few times before settling with watery eyes.

"That's a good pup," Sirius said proudly.

Ted gave a concerned look to his wife before getting up to finish the stew that was simmering on the stove and put some freshly made dough in the oven.

Harry glared at the three misty globes.

-oOo-

July 28, 1995

Great Easton, England

Sirius sat at the table of his new cottage. It was nowhere near the grandeur or opulence that the Lord Black was supposed to have. He didn't really care about that though. What he did care about was the fact he could look down the gently rolling hill to the farm below. A boy was following a girl with blonde hair who was traipsing through the meadows and heading towards a small copse of trees to the left and between the two properties.

Sirius smiled to see his godson have a friend over for once. As off as the Lovegood girl was, she was a good sort and one of the only ones that was able to get Harry out of the funk and anger he was always in. Not that Sirius blamed the poor kid.

To lose his girlfriend, to have been abandoned by those that should have cared for him, the years of verbal abuse and betrayal by the Longbottoms and having Neville get off without more than a hand slap would have had Sirius burning with rage. At least the old hag got what she deserved. He wondered if Augusta Longbottom would survive the twenty-eight months she had been sentenced too?

Sirius hoped not.

Thinking about that woman, he was burning with rage at everything his godson had gone through. If it hadn't been for Filius, he wasn't sure what would have happened with Harry, or if he would have found him. That scared him more than almost anything else.

When around Andi, Harry and the family they were making, the ghosts of his past were chased away. When he was on his own, they came crashing back in. To lose out on thirteen years of Harry's life because of his insane cousin, was affecting him as much as it was Harry. The boy was nothing like James or Lily.

For one, his humour was much dryer and cynical. He had seen a few times how Sue and him teased each other and it was not how James, Remus and him had acted at the same age. They had been idiots. Harry was far from that.

Next, Harry was far more serious than Lily had ever been. As much as she hated their antics, she still laughed, enjoyed her friends, pranked them back and was generally an outgoing person. Harry had a small friend group, even though it sounded like he got along with most people in school. Well, James had had a small group of close friends, but he had been popular and friendly with most everyone. Though, thinking back on it, Sirius wondered how much of that was from James being seeker and Gryffindor's golden boy, or the fear of being pranked?

Sirius had to admit that he and his friends had been horrible most of their first five years. It had only been after that Snivellus incident, and Lily being so devastated, did they start to turn around. During that summer of fifth year, the three of them had grown. People around the school were much friendlier during sixth and seventh year. He had also had some luck with the girls as well.

When Sirius thought back on those times now, he only thought of the three of them. Peter wasn't one of them anymore. He wondered if Peter had ever been their friend or if something horrible had happened to turn him?

Perhaps he should get permission to go to Azkaban and talk with the rat?

That was a thought for another day. Instead, his thoughts turned towards the girls of his last two years at Hogwarts. There had been a string of them, though a few stuck out. Serena Rotherford was one. Luna looked so much like her mother that Sirius wasn't sure he hadn't seen her doppelgänger. The girl had not been as spacy, but then it was understood she could see auras. Sirius was suspecting Luna could do the same and he would be having a talk with her father.

What he remembered most though about Serena was her wild side. Merlin, his first time in a broom closet with her still brought back goose pimples and a silly grin. If Luna was anything the same, whomever caught her was going to be a lucky bloke.

Then there was Marlene McKinnon. He had been sort of chasing her since beginning of fourth year when she had started to really sprout. By the start of seventh year, she was one of the hottest girls in school. Lily, Ophelia Selwyn and Erica Nott were probably the only other ones finer. The issue was Selwyn and Nott was that they were Slytherin, snotty, pureblood princess that would have loved to bed the heir of the Blacks, then claimed him by the old rights. Sirius wasn't going to go near that with a ten-foot pole. As much as his mother wanted to disown him, his grandfather had said Sirius wasn't going to be disowned and had started to train him to be head-of-house. Only a vow the man had made to his wife to give the family full autonomy had kept him from reigning in the disaster that had become the House of Black.

Marlene had been the first time he had truly fallen in love. They dated for three months and shagged a handful of times before he said the dreaded 'L' word to her one night in early November. Things quickly fell apart after that. She wasn't ready for that committed of a relationship… then Christmas of nineteen-seventy-seven happened. That had been when the war really hit home for them all. Marlene and her entire family were brutally murdered. He had seen the Auror reports a few years later and had gotten physically sick. They had all been brutalized, drawn and quartered and left hanging from chains off the roof of their old manor as a warning to others not to challenge the Death Eaters or Voldemort. In retaliation, the Wizengamot allowed the Aurors to use lethal force without trying to subdue someone first. The next day saw eight Death Eaters die when they tried to attack a shop in Hogsmeade, including two suspected to be part of Voldemort's inner circle. The Death Eaters went underground after that and would never attack in force in the open again or be that brutal. Voldemort had seriously miscalculated what would happen.

It had also been the event to convince James and him to join the Aurors, against Fleamont's and Euphemia's wishes.

Sirius became, well, serious. He buckled down in classes. A few years too late, but enough to get outstandings in all the NEWT's required to become an Auror. In that time, he had stopped dating and fooling around. That was until May.

Celeste Dagwood was a Ravenclaw. A rather quiet girl that had an understated beauty that Sirius had never noticed until she approached him one day asking for help on her charms. Sirius hadn't wanted to help her, but she had convinced him.

It hadn't been a strong attraction at first, but over the next year, through their NEWTs and his first year in the Aurors, he found himself spending any free time that wasn't spent with James and Lily, with Celeste. She had been drafted by the Unspeakables, so they were able to see each other in the Ministry often. They were both nineteen when they started to date. By the spring of nineteen-eighty-one Sirius was talking to James about marriage.

Then she was caught by Moody in a raid on a Death Eater hideout. She was one of eight captured that night. Crouch was on a warpath, trying to root out anyone he could as the Ministry looked ready to fail. Sirius, still love-struck and not understanding, had stood in the waiting room as they interviewed her. Being a half-blood of no standing allowed for the DMLE to use veritaserum on her. He stood there, horror and revulsion growing as he heard of what she had done.

She had been friends with Marlene McKinnon and told the Death Eaters about the family's decision to support the Ministry and where their manor was. She had even told them she had been invited to a party Christmas day. It was the same party that saw the entire family, thirteen people, killed.

Bile rose in his throat to think about it.

She confessed to initially getting close to him to find out secrets. She passed information to the Death Eaters for the next four years. Four years in which Sirius had slowly fallen in love with her. Four years in which she had passed information that saw the death of dozens of Ministry or Light supporters, ending in the betrayal and death of the Prewitt twins in July of nineteen-eighty-one.

Her confession came two months before Halloween. Sirius had been decimated. Her betrayal had shattered his belief in people. He distrusted almost everyone except three people: James, Lily and Peter. They were unsure of Remus as he had been living amongst the packs for almost two years at that point and Harry was too important to risk another traitor in their midst. If he had only known of Peter, he would have killed the rat the second he suspected anything.

Seeing Celeste last Saturday drug up all these emotions he had been trying to supress since coming out of his coma.

The way she had broken down when the antidote had been given, even if she had said she was being blackmailed and the healers found signs of the imperious on her, it didn't matter. She had betrayed them. She had used him. Dumbledore had accepted her into the Order on his word. Out of the twenty-six members of the Order, thirteen had died by August of nineteen-eighty-one and six had been from information she had passed along.

Sirius threw the glass of whiskey across the room, shattering it on the rock wall next to the fireplace. Harry and Luna disappeared into the small copse of trees. Even through his anger and pain, he hoped that Harry found happiness. If it was with Luna, he would support his godson in any way he could.

Sirius had a determination come over him to make sure the damned prophesies meant nothing. There was no reason why Harry should have to become a murderer. He wasn't even fifteen yet. The boy should be having fun. He should be pulling pranks or being stupid with his friends. Instead, his godson was already carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders with a magical gift greater than either of his parents. He doubted that even Lily could destroy training dummies like Harry was doing even after James had trained her to duel. She was going to be a charms mistress, but James insisted she be a good duellist in case they were ever found. He knew she had used those skills a few times, and each time the Death Eaters came out the worse for wear, if they came out at all, until that night they had been ambushed by Voldemort's best. The Lestranges were a different breed. Bella had been trained at the tit in the Black battle magics. They were some of the best battle magic Sirius had ever come across. Only those of the Potters and a few others were a match. It was obvious she had trained her husband and brother-in-law against the laws of the Black family. When trying to protect Harry, none of them had been able to fully retaliate the way they wanted for fear of hitting his godson, and it had led to their defeat…

Sirius closed his eyes, tears threatening to come out.

He couldn't let Celeste distract him. Not now. Not now that he could protect his godson and make sure this war didn't go the same way as the last. Even if most didn't believe it, they were at war again, it was just the question of when Voldemort would make his first moves. Given the way Longpiddle was discredited, Sirius had the feeling it would be sooner than later, and the man would try to finish off Longbottom before the boy could be proven right or regain his prominence.

That was something Sirius vowed would never happen. That was only secondary to his vow to protect Harry, but it was still important to him. The Longbottom's would never rise again. They were blood traitors of the worse type. Equal to that of the Weasleys. Though most don't remember why the Weasleys were blood traitors anymore, the Blacks and most of the old families remembered. It didn't matter that it had been almost three hundred years since their downfall, it was still unforgivable to the old bloods, and for once Sirius was thinking those old prejudices were not just some outdated tripe.

Standing, he decided it was time to do something that he had been avoiding. The world spun a little. Looking at the bottle, he hadn't realized he had drunk most of it since breakfast this morning.

"A quick sober-up potion," he muttered. Ten minutes later, sobered and in clean robes, he went to the fireplace. With a determined face he threw the green powder into the fire. "Blackmoore."

-oOo-

The next time on Duel of Fate: A howl in the night…

-oOo-

A/N: I do apologize, but work is very busy. My writing and editing time is limited so it may be a 2 – 3 week update schedule for a bit. I do not know how long this will last.

-oOo-

END