Odd Ideas

by Rorschach's Blot

Odd little one shots that may or may not be turned into their own stories.

88. The French Connections

Disclaimer: Yet another travel fic.

The French Connections

Harry awoke with a sense that he wasn't alone in his room at the Dursley residence.

"Calm down Mr. Potter," a strange voice said, "I am not here to harm you.

"Who are you?" Harry asked warily.

"Your future father in law," the strange man replied.

"What?"

"My daughter Gabrielle has decided to marry you," he said with the barest hint of a smile.

"You're Gabrielle's father?" Harry winced. "Of course you are, that's what you just said."

"None of us are at our best when awoken in the middle of the night," the man said charitably. "Now then, I owe you a great debt for rescuing my youngest child."

"She wasn't in any danger," Harry pointed out.

"You did not know that," he said calmly.

"True," Harry agreed.

"It has come to my attention that your life here is . . . less then pleasant," he began, "and with the death of your godfather you don't have much chance of leaving this place."

"How did you know that?"

"Did Fleur tell you what I did?"

"No sir," Harry replied.

"I work for the French Government, more specifically the Service de Documentation Extérieure et de Contre-Espionnage. Think of it as a bureau of foreign relations," he said slowly.

"Okay sir," Harry agreed.

"As you are Gabrielle's savior and." He grinned. "According to her my future son in law, I have been keeping an ear open for any information regarding you. Does that explain things to your satisfaction?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, now I would like to invite you to spend the summer on my estates in France," he said, "but I'm afraid that would be impossible."

"Why?"

"As a minor child, your Headmaster would have no difficulty persuading my government to hand you over to his care. I am afraid that as a simple civil servant I lack the power to protect you from the politicians." Which wasn't completely true but it was close enough for the sake of the conversation. "Perhaps if I had more time to arrange things, but not as things are at the moment."

"Oh," Harry said despondently.

"All is not lost," he assured the boy, "there are ways around this little difficulty."

"Such as?"

"The easiest way to help you would be to marry you to one of my daughters," he said thoughtfully, "it would make you an adult in the eyes of the law and it would make it very difficult for Albus Dumbledore to retrieve you."

"Marriage?" Harry squeaked.

"A bit extreme," he agreed, "and that leaves aside the fact that one daughter is too young and marriage to the other would . . . well Gabrielle's reaction, it would not be pleasant."

"Not to mention the fact that I'm not ready to be married," Harry added.

"Not to mention that," he agreed, "so we're going to have to try something else. If you agree, I will give you a portkey, a bit of gold, and then I shall wish you good luck. The first portkey will take you to my tailor." He glanced down at Harry's worn hand me downs with a barely concealed look of disdain. "He has instructions to give you another portkey, I do not know where it goes save that it will take you somewhere in the civilized world. If after a few weeks your wandering takes you to France then you will of course be welcome at my estates."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"Please do not think that I make the offer for form's sake," he added, "Gabrielle will be most disappointed if she does not get to spend at least a bit of time with her savior before the summer has ended."

"I'll make it a point to stop by," Harry promised, "if it is at all possible."

"Good," he said, "pack up whatever you wish to take with you and I shall take the rest if you like."

"I suppose that all I need is my wand," Harry said with a smile.

"That and your knife," the man agreed, "it's best to travel light."

"My knife?" Harry asked.

"You should always carry a knife," the man advised. He dug around his pocket for a few moments before his hand emerged with a slim folding knife. "These have been made near our home in Aveyron for generations, I want you to have mine."

"I . . . I don't know what to say," Harry said.

"Say thank you and then give me a coin of some kind," the man advised, "you must never give someone a knife without getting a coin back lest you risk severing your friendship. It's an old superstition but I've always thought it best not to tempt fate. Couper l'amitié as we say in French."

"Right," Harry agreed. He grabbed a handful of coins out of his trunk and Fleur's father selected a small copper one. "Is there anything else I should do?"

"Resort silencieux vivra vieux," the man said, "it means a silent spring will live longer. Close your blade slowly and never allow it to snap closed, take care of your knife and it will take care of you. The one you have now has charms to keep it sharp and to keep the rust away, other then that it was made by a superb craftsman and it is good enough that you will be able to pass it along to your son some day as I have passed that one to you."

"Thank you," Harry said, deeply touched by the man's gesture. "I will."

"Good, then is there anything else you need before starting your journey?"

"One question," Harry said.

"What is it?"

"Why does the knife have a fly on the back?"

"A fly?" The man laughed. "A Laguiole knife does not have a fly on the back, it has a bee which was granted by the emperor Napoleon to the people of Aveyron because of their courage in battle."

"Oh."

"Or it may be a fly and the story about Napoleon may not be true," the man continued with a shrug, "who can say what the truth is but a fly is much less romantic then a bee. You may choose to believe either or neither of the stories if you wish but I would advise you to become an advocate of the bee when you visit Gabrielle."

"Ok," Harry agreed.

"Here is your portkey young sir," he said pompously, handing over the cork from a bottle of wine, "have a good vacation and a happy life."

"Thank you sir," Harry said as the portkey took him away.

Fleur's father gathered Harry's things with a couple waves of his wand, shrunk them with another, and then put them in his pocket. According to his information, the main reason that Dumbledore liked to cite for keeping the poor boy in this house was the wards. A feral smile appeared on the Frenchman's face. So logic dictated that if the wards were no longer in existence then there would be on reason for the boy to remain with his 'family.'

IIIIIIIIII

Dumbledore was out of his office when the wards around number four collapsed so it was understandable that precious minutes were wasted as the portraits searched the castle to give him the news that there was something wrong with the odd artifacts that decorated the Headmaster's office. If asked the old man would have been happy to explain that he trusted people not machines, that the whirling gadgets were just a back up in case something went wrong. It was a noble sentiment, one that would have worked had every one of Harry's watchers been of the same quality as Mad Eye Moody. Therefore it was quite unfortunate that Mundungus Fletcher had been on watch that night.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry arrived in a small shop filled with bolts of cloth and a hunched over old man. Belatedly, he realized the danger of trusting the strange man, hell he didn't even know the man's name or if it was really Fleur's father. Harry groped for his wand, sending it clattering across the floor to rest at the old man's feet.

"Is there some reason you decided to throw this thing at me?" The old man asked with an annoyed frown on his face. "Well?"

"Sorry," Harry said with a blush, "I didn't mean to throw it at you."

"Well then what were you doing with it?"

"I was trying to take it out of my pocket," Harry admitted.

"Bit clumsy then," the old man said with a nod, "well . . . I suppose it's a common problem at your age. You wake up every day in a different shape then you were when you went to sleep."

"I guess," Harry agreed.

"Well . . . have a seat then," he said finally, "I've been contracted to give you a new set of clothing. Something that's durable enough to last you for a while, suppose I should charm it so it grows with you." The old man pulled a measuring tape out of his pocket. "Come over here son, this shouldn't take long."

IIIIIIIIII

Gabrielle's father was waiting when the Death Eaters arrived. Thanks to Lucius and the Death Eaters that occupied positions in every level of the Ministry, Harry Potter's address was anything but secret. It just hadn't been worth the effort to overcome the wards, not when they had ready access while the boy was at school anyway. The disappearance of the wards changed all that.

Three Death Eaters appeared on the street in front of Harry's former residence, they'd been sent by their Lord and Master to spring any traps that Dumbledore might have set. While it was thought unlikely that the old man would discover his ruthless side, it also wouldn't have been prudent not to take precautions. They were all hard men, veterans of the first rise, murderers with countless victims. None of them got off a single spell.

IIIIIIIIII

The Aurors on duty sprang to their feet when the underage monitors reported three potentially lethal charms in what should have been a completely muggle neighborhood.

"Alert the duty squad," the shift commander ordered, "I'll contact Madame Bones."

"Right."

IIIIIIIIII

Albus Dumbledore finally arrived in his office and immediately confirmed that several of the devices he had monitoring Harry Potter and the wards around the boy's residence had slowed or stopped.

"Albus." His floo lit up Arabella Fig's head appeared. "Death Eaters outside."

"Calm yourself Arabella," Dumbledore commanded, "and tell me what has happened."

"My cats tell me that three Death Eaters appeared outside," the old woman said franticly.

"Help is on the way," Dumbledore assured the woman, "hide yourself until we arrive."

"They're dead."

"Who?" Dumbledore felt a stab of fear pierce his chest.

"The Death Eaters," the old woman replied, "something killed them."

"I see . . . I shall be there soon."

"Please hurry."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia Bones appeared on the heels of her quick reaction force and immediately took charge of the situation.

"Who's he?" Amelia demanded with a wave at the Frenchman.

"Witness Madame Bones," the Auror replied.

"We know he's not a Death Eater?"

"He's some sort of Frog official."

"That's a no then," Amelia sighed, "send him over here."

"Yes Madame Bones."

Amelia watched as the man detached himself from the group of Aurors and walked over to her. "Name?" She demanded.

"Delacour," he replied.

"I see." She pursed her lips. "I've heard of you."

"And I of you."

"I thought you'd be taller."

"And I thought you didn't go around in night things," he riposted, "it seems that we have both had our illusions shattered tonight."

"Next time you want to cause trouble in my country would you do me a favor?"

"What's that?" He asked curiously.

"Do it during the day so I'm properly attired for our meeting."

"I shall try," he agreed with a laugh, "and I shall also try to wear lifts in my shoes."

"I appreciate it," Amelia said, the corner of her mouth twitched up a bit. "Mind telling me what happened here?"

"I saw three Death Eaters appear and I thought it prudent to neutralize them before they had a chance to harm anyone."

"That's it?"

"That's most of it."

"Good enough for me," she said, "you wouldn't happen to know why they're all Ministry Officials would you?"

"I would guess it's because your Ministry is full of moles," he said thoughtfully.

"I would guess the same thing," she said sourly, "thank you Mr. Delacour."

"It was a pleasure Madame Bones," he said grandly, "may I go then?"

"You may," she agreed.

"Then this is fare . . ." He cut off when several loud pops announced the arrival of Dumbledore and several Order Members. "Perhaps not quite yet."

"He doesn't look happy to see us," Amelia whispered, "I wonder why?"

"I couldn't begin to guess."

"Impressive that you could say that with a straight face."

"Years of practice."

"It shows."

"Thank you."

"Ah Madame Bones, Monsieur Delacour."

"Albus."

"Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Might I have a moment of Monsieur Delacour's time?"

"I would assume that would be up to Monsieur Delacour," Amelia said with a grin.

"And I wouldn't dream of saying no to a request from such a distinguished individual," the Frenchman said grandly. "What can I do for you?"

"May I ask what you're doing here?" Dumbledore asked with a grandfatherly look on his face.

"I'm here on a private business matter," the Frenchman replied. "A small transaction that netted me a bit of coin I believe is the correct term."

"And the Death Eaters?"

"I was only doing my duty in protecting these poor muggles from these murderous scum," he replied, "something anyone would have done."

"Where is Harry, Jean-Paul?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Seeing a tailor if the boy has any sense," the Frenchman replied, "you should have heard my daughter's complaints about the poor boy's wardrobe."

IIIIIIIIII

"Well," the tailor said as he inspected Harry in his new clothing, "that is that, I suppose."

"It feels better than anything I've ever worn in my life," Harry confessed, "thank you."

"It would be a better fit if I'd had more time," the old man said critically, "you really can't do a good job with just one fitting. Well, I suppose we can get you some proper clothing on your next visit."

"I can't imagine anything fitting better than this."

"You flatter an old man." He stopped to answer a knock on the door and returned with two wrapped packages. "Your other things have arrived."

"My other things?" Harry asked dumbly.

"I sent your measurements to a cobbler and a hatter I know," the old man explained.

"Oh." Harry watched as the old man unwrapped the two packages to reveal a pair of finely tooled leather boots with a matching belt and a broad brim hat. "Thank you."

"Thank Monsieur Delacour," the old man said with a wave, "why don't you try them on."

"It feels wonderful," Harry said with a look of pleasure on his face.

"Really?" The old man asked. "The boots should feel a little tight."

"I just figured it was because I was used to them being five sizes too large," Harry replied.

"Good." The old man rummaged around his desk for a moment. "And to cap things off, your portkey and your wallet."

"My wallet?"

"Monsieur Delacour told me to give it to you when I saw you," the old man replied, "and he wanted me to tell you that your passport is tucked into your wallet."

"Where is my portkey going to take me?" Harry asked.

"Any one of a dozen places," the old man replied, "so I can truthfully say that I do not know where you went if anyone asks me."

"When is it going to activa . . ." Harry tried to ask as the portkey activated.

"Right now," the old man replied to the empty room.

IIIIIIIIII

Jean-Paul Delacour returned home about three hours after sunrise and he was unsurprised to find his youngest waiting for him.

"Is 'arrie coming?" Gabrielle demanded the second her father entered their home. "Well?"

"That remains to be seen," the man replied.

"What does that mean?" Gabrielle demanded with a fierce pout on her face.

"If you love something let, it go," he said. It took all the man's will power not to smile at how adorable his daughter looked. "If it comes back, then it was meant to be."

"So?"

"So I let him go," he explained, "do you understand?"

"So when my 'arrie comes to me, it was meant to be," Gabrielle squealed, "our love is destiny."

"That's not quite . . ." he tried to say to the little girl's retreating back. "Oh well."

Gabrielle scampered into Fleur's room and hopped on the bed to wake her older sister.

"What are you doing?" Fleur demanded. "And why have you woken me before noon? I need my sleep or I may get those little wrinkles around the eyes."

"My 'arrie is coming," Gabrielle said in excitement, "and father has said that we may wed."

"Really?" Fleur asked suspiciously, sure that their father had given no such permission. "Well what if I would like to take 'arrie for myself?"

"Destiny will not allow it," Gabrielle said haughtily, "but perhaps I shall allow you to become his mistress."

"Oh really?"

"Perhaps," Gabrielle agreed, "if I am feeling generous. You are getting on in years after all."

"Why you little." Fleur sprang up and chased her giggling sister out of the room with murder in mind.

IIIIIIIIII

"Where am I?" Harry asked. The portkey had deposited him before a desk in a windowless stone room

"Nouméa . . . New Caledonia," the drab bureaucrat at the desk replied sourly, "papers please."

"Uh . . . right," Harry agreed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his new wallet and passport.

"Thank you," the official said curtly. He flipped through the visa pages for a few moments and his demeanor changed for the better in a flash. "I'm sorry, sir," he said politely, "I didn't realize." He handed Harry's passport back.

"Uh . . . that's okay," Harry mumbled.

"Can I have someone get your bags?" The man peered over the desk at the empty floor. "Or anything else?"

"I don't have any bags with me," Harry replied, "but could you show me the way out?"

"Just follow the yellow line sir," he replied, "and have a good day."

"Thank you," Harry said as he walked out of the room. Curiosity overcame him and he pulled out his passport and flipped through it until he found an elaborate looking visa that covered up one of the pages. The only thing he could decipher was the acronym SDECE, what that meant and whether or not it had anything to do with the official's change in attitude was and would remain a mystery . . . at least for the time being.

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius felt a surge of power as he looked down at the twin looks of fear in the eyes of the bound Patil sisters. "The three of us are going to have a lot of fun together," he said in a low menacing tone. "You need to learn that there are purebloods and that there are purebloods." He took a step forward and laughed at their flinch. "Now then, where should I start?" A quick cutting charm removed a bit of fabric. Lucius froze as his dark mark began vibrating and playing a cheerful and high pitched tone. "Curse these new and improved dark marks," Lucius growled to himself, "bad enough when they would just tell us he wanted a meeting." With a sigh, he touched the tip of his wand to his symbol of loyalty to the Dark Lord. "Yes master?"

"Potter has left the safety of his wards," Voldemort's voice hissed, "and you are the closest of my servants to his current location, he is about one thousand miles north of you. Find him and bring him to me."

"Yes master," he agreed, "I shall leave at once." The Dark Lord disconnected and Lucius turned back to the bound girls. "I guess it was not meant to be my lovelies." He reached down and gently removed the ball gags. "I shall try to return to your arms as soon as I can."

"Maaa," one replied.

"Baaa," the other responded.

"Such a shame we couldn't finish things up first," he said as he gathered his things, "I hope Severus has more Polyjuice."

Just under an hour later later the Polyjuice wore off, causing the two captives' bodies to shift back into their natural form and leaving a pair of sheep to struggle out of the clothes that had been forced on them.

Getting free and shaking off the clingy undergarments the pair shifted once more, leaving a pair of Hogwarts students to shiver in disgust.

"Crabbe?"

"Yeah, Goyle?"

"I don't think I like being sheep animagus no more."

"Yeah, but at least this is better than that time Hagrid caught us."

IIIIIIIIII

While her husband was off on another wild attempt to kill and or discredit Harry Potter, Narcissa Malfoy was reclining on a beach towel soaking up the sun's rays and admiring the scenery.

"Draco," she called out, "be a good boy and get mummy another drink." She lowered her sunglasses to get a better look at a bronzed lifeguard.

"But they're all muggles at the bar," Draco protested, "why can't I have gone with father?"

"Because your father and I decided to take separate vacations," Narcissa explained patiently, "and we agreed that you would come with me to provide a suitable escort to insure my safety." Not to mention the fact that she didn't really like the idea of her son learning the real reason why there was a ram in the Malfoy coat of arms. "Now go get mummy her drink."

"But . . ."

"Now, darling," she said firmly.

"Yes, Mum," Draco agreed in defeat.

Narcissa watched her child leave with a fond smile on her face. While not the brightest boy in the world, he was still her child. A frown marred Narcissa's face, she really had to think of a way to keep him out of that silly little club Lucius had decided to join. Narcissa's attention one again shifted to the lifeguard and a saucy smile bloomed, perhaps it would be best to send Draco to bed early tonight.

IIIIIIIIII

"So Gabrielle tells me that you gave her permission to wed her savior?"

"I'm sure that is what she heard me say my love," Monsieur Delacour said glibly.

"So what shall we do if young 'arrie arrives?" Amarante Delacour asked.

"I was planning to watch the fun," he replied, "maybe give the poor boy a safe place to hide on his visit . . . this all assumes that Gabrielle does something about her crush rather then spend the whole time blushing and giggling."

"Gabrielle is a quarter veela," his wife said arrogantly, "she will not spend 'arrie's entire visit blushing and giggling."

"So?"

"Right," she agreed, "there will also be the looks from afar and the sighing."

"To be young again," he said wistfully.

"All awkward and knobby kneed," she pointed out.

"You're right my love," he agreed, "let the youth suffer while we watch."

"And laugh."

"Of course."

"Kiss me?"

"Of course."

IIIIIIIIII

The first thing Harry noticed when he walked out of the government building was the heat, an English summer could not compare to this new experience. Harry undid the top buttons of his new shirt and took off his jacket, he'd wanted to experience something new and it looked as if fate had provided.

"Excuse me," Harry asked one of the nearest people.

"Yeah?" The woman said with an upraised eyebrow.

"I was hoping that you would be good enough to direct me to a place to get a bite to eat," Harry said as politely as he could.

"Eh?" She regarded him with a look of utter incomprehension "You laik som'ting to 'elp wif ze speaking of de Français?"

"Uh . . . sure, why not."

"Go downe too da mar'kit wiv da red roouf, dere be a ladie der dat can elp you."

"Thank you very much," Harry said with a smile. He set off in the direction the woman had waved with a song in his heart and a bead of sweat making it's way down his face, hoping with all his heart that this was one adventure that wouldn't endanger his life or, for that matter, anyone else's.

IIIIIIIIII

The tailor was sitting calmly in his shop when three Aurors burst in with wands drawn and foreboding looks on their faces.

"Stand up Frenchy," Moody ordered, "and don't pretend you can't understand less you want to suffer through my attempts to speak yer bloody language."

"A terrible thing, I'm sure," the tailor agreed with a sigh, "what can I do for you? New clothing, perhaps?" He regarded their attire with a sniff of disdain.

"Where is he?" Moody growled.

"Where is whom?"

"We tracked a portkey here," Moody elaborated, "a young boy, messy hair, green eyes, mutilated forehead."

"And an unfortunate wardrobe," the tailor added, "yes what about him?"

"Where is he now?" Moody demanded.

"I don't see how that's any of your concern," the tailor replied glibly.

Moody pulled out his badge and shoved it under the other man's nose. "This is my reason, now talk."

"May I see that again," the tailor asked, "ah . . . this appears to be a British badge."

"So?" Tonks asked.

"So we are not in a British territory," the tailor said with a smile, "we are in la belle France. You have no authority here."

"Oh really," Kingsley asked with a menacing step foreword, "why don't we test that theory."

"Alright," the man agreed. He reached under his counter with a smile. "I have just summoned the Maréchaussée who I am sure would be happy to clear up any misunderstandings."

"We'll be back," Moody growled as he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, followed closely by Kingsley.

"Um." Tonks nervously looked over her shoulder at her retreating colleagues.

"Yes?" The tailor asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Is Harry okay?"

"Who?"

"The young man."

"He looked fine," the man replied, "quite dashing in his new clothing."

"Thank you," Tonks said with a relieved sigh, "and um . . ."

"What is it Mademoiselle . . ."

"Tonks, uh . . . do you have a price list?"

"What?"

"My father's birthday is coming up and I thought it would be . . . that is to say . . ."

"Say no more Mademoiselle Tonks," he said with a smile, "I would be happy to help you . . ." He cut off when several large uniformed men burst into the room.

"Ennui?" The apparent leader asked.

"English please," the tailor said, "I don't believe my guest speaks any French."

"None you'd want to hear," Tonks agreed cheerfully, "mum tried to teach me but . . ."

"Your alarm went off," the man said calmly.

"Yes," the tailor agreed, "two brutish men claiming to be British Aurors came in demanding that I give them information regarding one of my customers."

"Uh . . ." Tonks said with a blush. "They actually are Aurors." She looked down as everyone's attention focused on her.

"And how would you know this?"

"Because I'm an Auror too," Tonks said with a weak smile. She pulled out her credentials and showed it to the angry official.

"You do realize that operating on our soil without official permission is a crime do you not?" The man demanded.

"She is not operating," the tailor interjected, "she is my customer. Here to buy something for her father."

"I see," the official said with a flat look, "would you do me a great favor, Ms. Tonks?"

"What is it?" The metamorph asked.

"Please tell your Director Bones not to send her people to France without permission in the future," he said coldly.

"I will," Tonks agreed.

"Good day then," he said as the men exited the business.

IIIIIIIIII

It took a bit of time, but Harry eventually found the building with the red roof that had been recommended to him.

"Excuse me," he said as he walked in, "is someone here?"

"What can I do for you?" A full figured woman with a sultry smile asked.

"I was told that you could help me learn French?" Harry replied.

"I can provide all sorts of training for your tongue," she replied with a toe curling smile, "come with me."

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius arrived in the French Colony with the intent of getting his business done as fast as humanly possible so as to get back to the flocks of New Zealand as quickly as possible. He had to admit that muggles made decent shepherds, perhaps he could persuade his master to leave a few alive to tend the flocks . . . of course they'd have to be gelded to protect the virtue of Lucius's future concubines. Come to think of it, perhaps he could also keep one of the mudbloods alive to brew Polyjuice. He'd never admit it to Severus, but Lucius had never really considered potion brewing to be a noble occupation. It was messy and smelly, best left to tradesmen really.

IIIIIIIIII

After several hours of learning French and learning all sorts of interesting things a person could do with a mouth, Harry was ready to leave the woman's shop to find his long awaited meal.

"I never thought you could learn another language so quickly," Harry said in amazement. Feeling a bit tired after all the exercises she'd shown him to get his mouth ready for a foreign tongue.

"Only the comprehension," she said.

"So I still can't speak French?"

"You'll be able to soon but it will not come right away," she cautioned him as he walked out the door, "and not at all without practice."

"I understand," Harry said with a silly grin on his face as he stumbled out the door, "and thanks again for teaching me to do all those things with my tongue."

"The pleasure was all mine," she said to his retreating back.

IIIIIIIIII

"The Chief wants you in her office now," were the words that greeted Tonks when she arrived for her shift.

"Do you know what it's about?" She asked.

"I know the Chief didn't look happy," was the unpleasant reply. Tonks approached the Director's door and nervously knocked on the frame.

"Get in here now," Amelia growled.

"Yes boss," Tonks agreed.

"Now then," Amelia said in a frighteningly calm voice, "do you want to explain to me why your name appeared in an official complaint by the French Government?"

"Not really," Tonks blurted, "er . . . I mean . . ."

"I'm listening Auror Tonks," Amelia said flatly.

"We were just looking for Harry," Tonks confessed.

"Harry . . . Potter?"

"Yes boss."

"I wasn't aware that he went missing?"

"Dumbledore says that he's run off and needs to be found for his own safety," Tonks said.

"And how does that excuse my Aurors using their credentials on my time to look for him?" Amelia demanded. "And doing it in another nation no less? Did someone just forget to mention that my jurisdiction had stretched across the channel?"

"No boss," Tonks said meekly.

"What in the hell made you think that you could do this sort of thing on my time," Amelia said in a low angry voice, "that's two months pay for conducting personal business on my time."

"I wasn't on shift at the time boss," Tonks said nervously.

"What?" Amelia growled.

"I wasn't on shift," Tonks said nervously, "I had the day off."

"Really?" Amelia asked with a look of annoyance. She reached down and looked through her paperwork for a few moments. "I see, at what point did you identify yourself as an Auror?"

"The French Police asked me how I knew that the other two were Aurors," Tonks replied.

"I see." Amelia took a deep breath. "Just who were the other two?"

"I . . . don't remember," Tonks said with a wince,

"You don't remember?" Amelia asked flatly.

"No," Tonks agreed unhappily.

"Well . . . I can't say that I don't appreciate your loyalty," Amelia sighed, "and I think I can guess who at least one of those idiots you're protecting is."

"Yes boss," she agreed.

"On Dumbledore's orders no doubt," Amelia said sourly, "no comment Auror Tonks?"

"No boss."

"You may wish to rethink your membership in that little club of yours," Amelia continued. "I have the feeling that being a member might not be the best thing for your career in the coming future."

"Understood boss," Tonks said glumly.

"And what the hell is with your obsession with Harry Potter?" Amelia demanded.

"He's my cousin," Tonks replied, "aside from mum and dad the only member of my family that I'm willing to claim."

"I see," Amelia said with a nod, "I suppose I can understand wanting to take care of family."

"Thank you boss."

"I also don't believe your current partner is the right person to train a rookie Auror so I'm going to reassign you to another posting," Amelia continued. "Cataloging everything in the evidence room for example." She got up and stuck her head out the door. "Shack get in here."

"You called Amelia?" Shack asked as he walked into the room, he didn't even look at Tonks.

"Your rookie has been getting into trouble," Amelia said with a smile.

"Oh?" Shack asked.

"Even had a hand in causing an international incident," Amelia continued, "along with two other idiots who had better hope to god that I never find out who they are or I'll nail their balls to my office door as a warning to the others."

"Oh?" Kingsley's voice broke. "What sort of international incident."

"The three stooges decided to go to France and . . . well, I won't bother you with the details. The important thing is that I've decided to take a more personal interest in your trainee," Amelia said with a grin.

"If you think that's best," Shack agreed.

"In the mean time I want you to poke around, see if you can find out who drug our young idiot off into trouble."

"I'll see what I can do," Shack agreed.

"Your cover is that I'm displeased with you for some reason," Amelia laughed, "so you'll be cataloging the evidence room and in general doing all the most unpleasant jobs I can think of until you find out who did this. I figure they'll be more likely to confide in you if they think I'm doing everything I can to make your life a living hell so you'll also be on revolving shifts. Nights one day, days the next, and occasional evenings."

"That . . . sounds like a wonderful idea Amelia," Kingsley choked.

"Great," Amelia smiled. "NOW GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE YOU MORON." She winked at him as she pushed him out and slammed the door. "Did you learn something today Auror Tonks?"

"Yes boss," she agreed, "it was very educational."

"I suppose you're wondering what I have in store for you?"

"Every thought is worse then the last boss," Tonks admitted.

"You'll be working with me," Amelia said, "and I'm afraid that you'll either have to give up your membership in Dumbledore's little club or get used to the idea of making regular reports on their meetings."

"I'll give it up boss."

"Good choice," Amelia said with a smile. "I respect loyalty Auror Tonks I also approve of your regard for family.

"Thank you boss."

"Now let's see if we can find that missing cousin of yours."

"Boss?"

"Harry Potter is a British subject and a minor," Amelia explained, "so it is well within my sphere of authority to check up on him to assure myself of his safety." She grinned. "It also promises to be a dandy training exercise."

"Uh . . . about that."

"What is it Auror Tonks?"

"The French wanted me to tell you to keep your Aurors out of their country."

"Understandable," Amelia sighed, "any reason why they didn't detain you?"

"Might have been because I was polite," Tonks said with a shrug, "or because I didn't flash freddy."

IIIIIIIIII

"Uh . . . could you speak more slowly?" Harry asked in slow, carefully considered French.

"I asked if you would like to go fishing with me," the old man repeated, "I'll give you ten percent of the profit and two fish if you deck hand for me."

"I've never been fishing before," Harry admitted.

"No problem," he said with a grin, "I'm not doing it for the money so you don't need to be skilled."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"To spend time on the sea," he replied, "and away from my wife. I'm not as young as I used to be so it is nice to have a bit of help."

"I'll do it," Harry agreed, "how do we start?"

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius wasn't at all sure he approved of this outpost of French culture. Granted his own ancestors had come to the British Isles by way of Brittany and granted he still maintained ties with the branch that had stayed behind but honestly, the place was full of wogs . . . muggle wogs at that. Lucius's lip curled up in disgust, why hadn't the Potter boy shown the good sense to hide somewhere other then a dock? Perhaps some place with sheep? Lucius mused, not some old ram of course, but a demure ewe with a refined maa. She would of course have no trouble with Polyjuice and he'd stroke her silky locks as he gazed into her eyes.

IIIIIIIIII

"Resigning from the Order?" Dumbledore asked with a stricken look on his face. "Whatever for?"

"The chief gave me the choice between quitting and making reports," Tonks explained, "it wouldn't be right to start informing on everyone."

"Why ever not?" Dumbledore said with a smile. "We have nothing to hide. Please continue your membership at least for the time being."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Dumbledore said grandly, "I trust that I've laid your worries to rest."

"Most of them."

"What else is troubling you Nymphadora?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Two things," Tonks replied, "the first is that I can't go on missions any longer. Madame Bones has me on call twenty four hours a day."

"And the second?"

"Madame Bones wanted me to pass on to Moody that as soon as she decides to take official notice of the fact that he's still using his badge then she's gonna cut off his . . . uh . . . boy parts and nail them to her desk."

"I'll be sure to pass that along," Dumbledore choked.

IIIIIIIIII

Narcissa tucked Draco into bed and then tenderly kissed her son on the forehead. "Be a good boy and go to sleep darling."

"But it's not even dark out yet mum," Draco protested.

"Mummy says that it is time for her little dragon to go to sleep," Narcissa said firmly, "does mummy's little dragon want mummy to sing him to sleep?"

"No mum," Draco said with a pout.

"Does mummy's little dragon want a story?"

"No mum."

"Then mummy's little dragon needs to stay in bed all night until mummy gets him in the morning," Narcissa cooed, "no matter what strange sounds he hears at night."

"Strange sounds?" Draco asked with a frown.

"Maybe some grunting and moaning," Narcissa explained, "perhaps some screaming. There is a ghost in the hotel," she added, "and mummy doesn't want her little drakey-wakey to get out of his room."

"But mum . . ."

"Understood," Narcissa said firmly.

"Yes mum," Draco said in defeat.

"Good," Narcissa said cheerfully, "because if mummy catches her little Draco out of his room then mummy will have no choice but to punish her little Draco quite severely . . . perhaps publicly in front of his little friends."

"I'll be good," Draco promised.

"Good." Now to go find that pool boy.

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius was on the dock waiting for Harry to show up when his Dark Mark again started buzzing and playing a jaunty tune.

"Yes?" Lucius asked.

"Are you happy with your Dark Lord?" A voice asked.

"What?"

"What would you say if I told you that I could get you a newer and better Dark Lord to serve for half the price?" The teledarkmarketer purred.

"Who is this?" Lucius demanded. So intent he was on his conversation that he completely missed Harry walking past him holding a pair of fish in his hands.

On the whole, Harry decided that he quite enjoyed his first fishing trip, though he did think it was bit odd the way the old man had kept complimenting his muscles . . . oh and the way the old man would lick his lips every few minutes. Harry shrugged it off, probably nothing, after all the old man that Dudley used to hang around did a lot of the same thing and no harm ever came of that, did it?

Harry continued up the dock until he saw a sign proclaiming that the building it was affixed to was the colonies' finest joke shop.

"The twins would love this," Harry muttered to himself as he walked in.

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius breathed a sigh of relief when the bastard on the other side of his Dark Mark finally hung up. What in the hell gave these people the right to bother him? Why in the hell couldn't they just mind their own damned business? He really did think that these new and 'improved' Dark Marks were the worst idea ever.

Lucius's mouth twitched in annoyance as his Dark Mark began buzzing and playing a cheerful electronic tune. "WHAT?"

"Am I disturbing you Lucius?" His master's voice asked calmly. "Are you perhaps to busy to talk to your Lord?"

"No master," Lucius simpered, "I thought you were someone else."

"Hmmm."

"You're going to crucio me aren't you?"

"Highly likely," Voldemort agreed, "and if whether I stop before your brains begin to drip out of your nose depends on your answer to one question."

"What question master?"

"I just want to know why you did nothing when Potter walked past you."

IIIIIIIIII

"One book of jokes and one bag of laughing powder," the clerk rang up Harry's purchases, "will that be all?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "and could I get this delivered?"

"Where to?"

"England," Harry replied, "I have some . . ."

"Time to die Potter," Lucius squealed as he burst into the shop.

"Friend of yours?" The clerk asked calmly, years of working in a joke shop had made him almost impossible to surprise.

"Nope," Harry replied. He scooped up the laughing powder with one hand and flung it into Lucius's face.

"What's that supposed to . . . .bwahahahahahahahahaha." Lucius collapsed and howled with laughter.

"Could I get another bag of laughing powder?" Harry asked.

"Certainly sir," the clerk agreed, "would you like anything else?"

"Could you notify the authorities to come pick him up?" Harry continued. "He's a dangerous murderer and I really think it would be best if he were locked up."

"Of course." Didn't really matter if the boy was telling the truth or if it was all some elaborate prank, the customer was always right.

"And could you direct me to the nearest travel agent?" Harry asked with a glance down at Lucius. "I think it's past time I picked up and moved on."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia was in her office when a message from the French government arrived to notify her that Lucius Malfoy had been detained for several crimes ranging from attempted murder without a license to trespassing.

"Auror Tonks," Amelia said. She frowned down at the note wondering why the hell they couldn't have printed it in a language she could understand.

"Yes boss?"

"How's your French?"

"Not good boss," Tonks admitted.

"Hopefully better then mine," Amelia said with a grin, "what do you think this word means?"

"Uh . . . tickler maybe?" Tonks ventured.

"Good enough I'm sure," Amelia said cheerfully, "when's your next club meeting?"

"Couple minutes," Tonks said, "why?"

"I want you to go there and report that Lucius Malfoy was arrested by French authorities for a variety of crimes," Amelia replied, "and that he was captured by a man known only as . . . the Tickler."

"The Tickler boss?"

"Unless you'd like to change your translation," Amelia agreed.

"That's fine boss," Tonks said quickly. Visions of dictionaries and hours of study danced through her head.

"On your way then," Amelia ordered.

"Yes boss."

Amelia waited until after her Auror left the office before throwing a hand full of floo powder into the fireplace. "Service de Documentation Extérieure et de Contre-Espionnage," she called out, "Monsieur Delacour please."

"What can I do for you Madame Bones?" Fleur's father asked with a grin.

"First of all," Amelia began, "I'd like to apologies for the actions of my Aurors."

"Completely unnecessary," he waved off her concerns, "I am well aware that they were not directed by your hand."

"Thank you for that," Amelia said in relief, "I'd also like to know if it would even be possible to visit your country to conduct an interview."

"For what purpose?"

"My assistant was one of the Aurors that trespassed on your soil," Amelia explained, "the polite one that is."

"And?"

"And she's also Harry Potter's cousin," Amelia sighed, "and one of the few family members that he would claim . . . the reverse is true unfortunately."

"And I take it that Ms. Tonks would like to assure herself that her relative is safe and happy?"

"Yes," Amelia agreed, "and I would like to turn it into a training exercise."

"I'll make the arrangements," he said with a smile, "so long as you give your word that you will not force him to do anything."

"Aside from taking him to a hospital if he were injured or something like that?"

"Aside from that yes."

"Then you have my word."

"Excellent."

IIIIIIIIII

Tonks arrived several minutes after the start of the Order meeting and did her best to sneak to her seat without disrupting anything.

"Nymphadora," Dumbledore said loudly, "I'm so glad you decided to continue your membership."

"Madame Bones suggested it," Tonks said honestly, "she said it would be good to have an unofficial backchannel."

"Why didn't she use Kingsley?" Dumbledore asked.

"Cause the boss wants to make his life a living hell for embarrassing her in front of the French," Tonks explained with an apologetic glance at her former partner, "still hasn't decided if she wants to . . . uh . . ."

"We get it," Dumbledore said, "was there any information that Madame Bones wanted us to hear?"

"Lucius Malfoy has been arrested by the French," Tonks said, "Madame Bones wanted me to tell you that it doesn't look like he'll be getting out any time soon."

"Any word on how he was taken down?" Moody growled.

"He got captured by a private citizen," Tonks said.

"We know who?"

"We know an alias."

"Spit it out then," Moody demanded.

"They call him the tickler sir," Tonks said with a straight face.

"And he's French?" Dumbledore asked intently. "You're sure of that."

"Yes sir," Tonks agreed. "Reasonably sure."

"Alright then," Dumbledore said, "I want you to find out everything you can about this French Tickler and . . . Nymphadora is there something wrong?" Tonks had fallen to the ground and shoved a fist in her mouth, tears were flowing down the poor girl's reddened face as she shook, possibility Dumbledore thought, from some sort of epileptic seizure. "Poppy, could you see to young Nymphadora please?"

"Yes Headmaster," Poppy agreed.

"Looks like you'll be the one that has to find out about the French Tickler Alastor," Dumbledore said to his old friend, "make us proud."

"Oh god," Tonks moaned, "stop it please."

IIIIIIIIII

Sporting an extremely smug look on her face, Narcissa wandered into her son's room. "Wakey wakey."

"Morning Mum," Draco muttered.

"And how is my little man today?" Narcissa cooed. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yes Mum," Draco agreed.

"Good," Narcissa said happily, "now how would you like to go to the zoo today?"

"I'm not a little kid Mum," Draco protested sullenly, "can't I just go do something on my own?"

"Draco Catamite Malfoy you watch your tone," Narcissa scolded.

"Sorry Mum."

"Now come over here and give Mummy a kiss."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia was waiting when Tonks returned from her meeting with the Headmaster and 'his little club' as she put it. "Have fun?" Amelia asked.

"Loads," Tonks agreed cheerfully, "it was the best meeting ever."

"Good." Amelia arose. "Come along then."

"Where are we going boss?"

"On a field trip," Amelia replied, "how much time did you get to spend in France the last time you were there?"

"Only a few hours," Tonks replied, "still managed to pick up some things for dad though."

"Excellent," Amelia said with a smile, "you'll be able to show me the sights then."

"I . . . uh . . . kinda got kicked out the last time boss," Tonks protested, "they were pretty firm about the fact that they didn't want me to go back."

"Nonsense," Amelia swept aside her Auror's complaints, "I'm sure that it was all a misunderstanding that will all be cleared up after they find out what a marvelous young lady you are."

"Yes boss," Tonks agreed glumly. After a few minutes of mentally weighing the pros and cons of ignoring her boss's orders verses spending some time in a French jail cell, Tonks gave a fatalistic shrug and decided to go with the devil she didn't know . . . maybe she'd get lucky and find out that French prisons weren't so bad after all.

IIIIIIIIII

Jean-Paul started his day by watching his younger daughter run past with his eldest in hot pursuit. "Amarante," he called out.

"Yes my love?"

"Why is Fleur blue?"

"Gabrielle decided to do some decorations during the night when Fleur could not resist."

"Ah."

"Aren't you going to do something?"

"Aren't you?"

"This is much too amusing to put a stop to things," his wife said with a lazy grin, "I'll let them run themselves to exhaustion then I'll punish them by having them work the vineyards or something."

"Set them to cleaning the stables," he suggested, "that was one of my mother's favorites . . . built quite a bit of character."

"We do not have any horses my love," she pointed out.

"The stables were left dirty," he said with a grin, "and haven't been cleaned in nearly twenty years."

"Do tell."

"And when they're done I'll refill the stables," he continued, "so that they can keep learning how to clean stables over and over again."

"Not to mention the fact that Gabrielle adores horses," Amarante said slyly, "and this will allow you to be a hero to her."

"Fleur will likely pretend that she is above it all," he mused, "but she'll also love the chance to ride."

"Not to mention the fact that she will soon realize that fresh 'ay will be another place to have her little rendezvouses with young 'arrie."

"Thank the gods that Gabrielle is too young for that sort of thing," he laughed.

"Tell that to her," his wife said with an impish smile, "assuming she works up the courage to even think about it."

IIIIIIIIII

Voldemort was sitting in his throne room when one of his many bootlicking minions came in and prostrated himself on the floor. "What is it?" Voldemort growled.

"We have discovered what happened to the team that was sent to kill Potter's family master," the man simpered. "They were . . ."

"Did they succeed?" Voldemort interrupted.

"No master," the man replied.

"Then I want them dead," Voldemort snapped, "DEAD."

"They are dead master," the minion said quickly.

"Excellent," Voldemort said happily. He didn't normally like it when his lackeys showed too much initiative but there were exceptions to every rule. The thought that Dumbledore had finally decided to fight the war didn't even cross his mind, nor did the thought that the Ministry had suddenly become effective. "Leave me." The idea that a French intelligence agent had come to England and put himself in a situation that made it possible to 'defend himself' during the attack was too ludicrous to contemplate.

IIIIIIIIII

"Hello again," Tonks greeted the tailor as they walked into his shop, "remember me."

"How could I forget a lovely woman such as yourself," he replied, "who is your friend?"

"This is my boss, Madame Bones."

"Enchanted."

"We were wondering if you would be willing to tell us where the portkey that you gave young Harry Potter led to?"

"I do not know," he replied, "I made up several portkeys and selected one at random."

"What are some of the locations?"

"A bar in Munich, a good hotel in California, two places in the civilized world, surprise me, et cetera."

"I see," Amelia sighed, "I suppose I can't say that I'm surprised. Please pass on my best to Monsieur Delacour."

"I shall Madame," he agreed.

"So that's it?" Tonks asked.

"That's it," Amelia agreed.

"I'm not going to get arrested?" Tonks asked incredulously. "No time in French Prison."

"Not unless you find some way to annoy me or you're into that sort of thing," Amelia agreed, "come along Auror Tonks."

"Yes boss."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry's portkey dropped him off on a secluded beach and since he could see lights in the distance, he saw no reason to worry that he'd been marooned. With a smile and a shrug, he set to gathering up driftwood for a fire. Sushi may be grand, but Harry wasn't feeling adventurers enough to try it, especially not if he had to make it himself.

A few minutes of work rewarded Harry with a nice bed of coals and a couple more saw those coals under a several inches of sand, with Harry's fish wrapped in Irish moss and buried a couple inches above.

"This is heaven," Harry muttered to himself, "only thing that would make it better would be something cold to drink."

"I might be able to help with that," a strange voice spoke up, "if you'd be willing to share your meal."

"Of course," Harry agreed.

A slim girl a year or two younger then he was and holding a couple bottles drifted out from behind the trees and sat down next to Harry. "Course you'll have to cast the cooling charms."

"Why's that?" Harry asked mildly.

"Cause I'm not supposed to use any magic," the girl replied.

"Oh." Harry pondered that statement for a few minutes. "Why not?"

"Still in school," she replied glumly.

"Ah, me too."

"Which school?"

"Hogwarts."

"You'll be fine then," she said with a grin, "have at it."

"You sure?"

"Would I lie?"

"Would you?"

"No."

IIIIIIIIII

As soon as they got back to the British Isles, the stone on Tonk's super secret Order ring began vibrating uncontrollably, letting her know that there was a meeting.

"Boss, I . . ."

"Yes I see," Amelia cut her off, "feel free to share what we learned today if you wish."

"I'd kinda rather not," Tonks said with a blush, "so long as he's safe that is."

"Do as you wish then."

"Thanks boss," Tonks said brightly. The meeting was well under way by the time she arrived at the super secret Order Headquarters.

"Glad you could join us Nymphadora," Dumbledore said loudly, "have a seat. We were just talking about a new Order meeting notification device. Arthur, if you would."

"Thank you Headmaster," Arthur said. He held up a large cylindrical object. "This is what Muggles like to call a 'Writing Pen.' It's used the same way we would use a quill . . ." He paused at seeing Tonks's hand up. "Yes Tonks?"

"That's about three times the size of any pen I've seen," Tonks said, "in fact it kinda looks like a . . ."

"A what?" Arthur asked eagerly.

"Never mind," Tonks said with a blush.

"Right," Arthur agreed, "the problem with the rings was that the Death Eaters might steal them. But no self respecting Death Eater would steal a muggle item so we're switching to these. Now, we thought it might seem a bit odd if these were to start vibrating for no reason all the time so I had the boys include a little something extra." He twisted the large pen and it began vibrating like mad. "You can turn the vibrate function on at any time."

"What if someone asks why our 'Writing Pens' are always vibrating?" Professor Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Then just tell them that they can double as a back massager," Arthur said brightly, "it's quite good for . . ." He broke off when Tonks fell off her chair and appeared to be suffering from some sort of epileptic seizure on the floor.

"Poppy," Dumbledore called out quickly.

"I can't find anything wrong with her Albus," the school nurse said franticly, "we're going to have to take her to St. Mungos."

"I'm alright," Tonks managed to gasp between giggles, "it's fine."

"If you're sure," Dumbledore said with a concerned expression on his face.

"I'm sure," Tonks agreed, "just ignore it. Please."

"Well . . . Alastor would like to share some things he learned about the French Tickler," Albus said slowly.

"Near as I can tell," the scarred Auror began, "he's a bit like a muggle version of 'you-know-who' a man so dangerous that they dare not speak his name aloud. I asked a few muggles about him while undercover and half of them didn't seem to know what I was talking about while the other half told me that wasn't the sort of thing one talked about in public." The old Auror sighed. "Hate to admit it but I don't think I can complete this assignment, just stand out too much in the muggle world what with the eye patch and the peg leg so I'm not sure I'm the right person for this job."

"How . . . bout . . . Snape?" Tonks asked from under the table, she immediately had to clamp both hands over her mouth to contain the laughter that threatened to flood the room.

"Severus, would you be willing to do this?" Dumbledore asked. "It could be dangerous."

"How dangerous could a few muggles be," Snape sneered.

"Grand," Dumbledore said happily, "does anyone know a good place to start looking?"

"Maybe . . . maybe you could have him look in Soho," Tonks managed to gasp between giggles, "I've heard you can find . . . find the . . . the tickler in some of the shops there."

"Thank you Nymphadora," Dumbledore said, his eyes shined with concern for the young woman, "we'll take that under advisement." After the meeting, Albus went directly to the office of the Director of Magical Law Enforcement and Dog Catching. "Terrible news," Albus said as he entered, "absolutely terrible news."

"What's wrong Albus?" Amelia asked.

"You remember how I told you about young Nymphadora's little problem?"

"I remember everything that might affect my Aurors," Amelia agreed.

"I'm afraid that her fits are getting worse," Dumbledore said with a look of concern on her face, "she collapsed again in the last meeting and I do believe that she lost bladder control."

"That is serious," Amelia sighed, "did your healer find anything wrong with her?"

"Alas no," Dumbledore replied, "I was hoping that you could shed some light on the issue."

"How so?"

"Was she hit by a strange spell recently or anything like that?"

"Not that I know of," Amelia said thoughtfully, "but I'll look into it."

"Thank you Amelia."

"She is one of my Aurors Albus," Amelia said sharply, "despite of her involvement in your little club."

"Of course," Albus agreed contritely, "good evening Amelia."

"Goodbye Albus."

Tonks was still red in the face when she arrived at Amelia's office to finish up the day. She'd gone straight home for a quick shower and a change of uniform before returning to work, something she was sure her boss would be sure to overlook if Tonks ever got the courage to explain that she'd laughed so hard she'd wet herself in an Order meeting.

"Have a seat Nymphadora," Amelia ordered as soon as Tonks walked through the doors.

"Uh . . . yes boss," Tonks agreed meekly.

"What took you so long?" Amelia asked sharply.

"I had to make a quick trip home for a shower and a change," Tonks said nervously.

"Why?"

"I got something on my uniform," Tonks said quickly.

"What exactly did you get on your uniform?" Amelia asked sweetly. "And tell me the exact circumstances that preceded the soiling."

"Can't rightly say boss," Tonks said quickly.

"You can't say that you're suffering from incontinence?" Amelia demanded.

"Incon . . . uh . . . what boss?"

"Pissing yourself, you can't say that you've been pissing yourself."

"It was only the one time," Tonks said with a deep blush, "and it's not so much can't as really don't want to."

"I see," Amelia sighed, "I'm taking you off active duty Auror Tonks."

"For not telling you why I had to change?"

"For not reporting a medical problem," Amelia snapped, "do you think I like learning about these things from Albus Dumbledore? Now as soon as we can fix things I'll put you on active duty, but until then."

"What medical problem boss?" Tonks asked.

"You've been having fits, collapsing, and now loosing bladder control." Amelia said. "You don't think these things constitute a medical problem?"

"I don't have a medical problem, I've been laughing. It's not my fault boss," Tonks whined.

"Then who's is it?" Amelia asked mildly.

"Well . . . you remember that guy that captured Lucius Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"Well . . . you remember how I translated his alias as the Tickler?"

"I do."

"Well, Dumbledore decided that since the guy is French that he should call him the French Tickler." Tonks gave her boss a look of expectation.

"Really?" The corner of Amelia's mouth gave an involuntary twitch upward. "And how is this amusing?"

"Well." Tonks bit her lower lip. "A French Tickler is the name of a kind of toy."

"Like." Amelia's mouth gave another twitch. "A teddy bear or something of that nature?"

"Not that kind of toy boss," Tonks said with a look of abject misery on her face.

"Then." Amelia coughed into her hand. "What kind of toy is it?"

"A personal toy boss," Tonks said, "for personal relief."

"I'm afraid that I don't follow." Amelia coughed into her hand again. "Perhaps you could get one and show me how it works?"

"I . . . are you laughing boss?"

"I'm trying not to," Amelia said before dissolving into giggles, "oh the look on your face."

"Boss," Tonks whined, "stop laughing at me." This of course prompted another round of giggles.

"Come on Auror Tonks," Amelia said, "I'll buy you a drink."

"Sure thing boss," Tonks agreed.

"Actually," Amelia said thoughtfully, "have you had anything to eat?"

"Not for a while boss," Tonks admitted.

"Then would you like to dine with Susan and I?" She asked. "There is always room for one more at our table."

"I'd love to boss," Tonks agreed, "thank you."

"No problem Auror Tonks," Amelia said with a smile. Susan would be so happy to have company.

IIIIIIIIII

"Did you hear the latest news my Darling?" Fleur's mother asked.

"What is it Amarante?" He asked with a sigh.

"Gabrielle 'as explained to me why she thinks young 'arrie will need a mistress."

"Oh?" Jean-Paul asked.

"She says that 'arrie is too masculine for one woman," she replied with a smile, "I pointed out that you did not need a mistress."

"What did she say?"

"That you were old and infirm and that it was a wonder that having a half veela wife did not kill you."

"I'm not that old," he protested, "am I?"

"You have a daughter that's nearly fully grown," his wife pointed out, "and anther that is talking of marriage."

"I'm still in the prime of my life," he said stubbornly, "I am."

"Whatever you say dear."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry and his guest finished their meal with groans of contentment. "So where do you go to school?" Harry asked.

"Beauxbatons," she replied, "where else?"

"Do you know Fleur Delacour?"

"By sight only," the girl replied, "I'm a bit beneath her notice since I was five years behind her in school."

"Makes sense," Harry said with a nod, "where are we anyway?"

"You don't know where we are?"

"Not a clue."

"How did you get here if you don't know where here is?"

"Portkey."

"You took a portkey that you didn't know the destination of?" She asked incredulously. "Are you stupid?"

"Probably," Harry agreed, "well?"

"Moorea la subdivision administrative des Îles du Vent," the girl said with a smile, "that clear things up?"

"Not even a bit," Harry laughed.

"We're not far from Tahiti, better?"

"Better," Harry agreed, "thanks."

"No problem."

"You know where I could get a bed?" Harry asked. "Or a portkey?"

"Leaving already?"

"I've found that the best way of dealing with people that are trying to kill you is to stay on the move," Harry said with a grin, "and since I've got people trying to kill me . . ."

"Really?" She giggled. "I've never met someone with a price on their head before. I'm Adélaïde Beauchamp."

"Harry Potter."

"Oh," she squeaked, "you weren't joking about people trying to kill you."

"Afraid not," Harry agreed.

"Well . . ." A sultry grin appeared on her face. "I'm sure that we can find you a place to sleep at the place where I'm staying."

"Great," Harry cheered.

"And we can have the concierge get you a portkey," she added, "simple no?"

"Simple yes," Harry said, "thank you."

"It is nothing."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia was enjoying a digestif with the woman who was rapidly becoming one of her favorite Aurors when she felt a great disturbance in the wards.

"Susan," she screamed, "get out now."

"Boss?" Tonks asked nervously.

"The wards are coming down," Amelia explained, "take my niece and get out of here."

"Afraid I can't do that boss," Tonks said stubbornly.

"That is an order Auror Tonks," Amelia growled.

"Fire me," Tonks said with a shrug as she prepared to take the fight to the enemy.

IIIIIIIIII

Voldemort laughed as the wards shattered. This was what he needed, this was what he was missing in his life. It had been so long since the last time he'd gone out and gotten his hands dirty so to speak and he'd allowed himself to forget the simple joy one felt when eliminating an entire family line.

"Come out and play Amelia," he taunted.

"I'm right here you bastard," Amelia replied as she dove out of one of the windows, "come get some."

"You really think you can defeat me?" Voldemort laughed. "Come now, be reasonable."

"Piss off snake face," Amelia laughed. She circled around him, forcing him to turn away from the house. "You were beaten by a one year old child, what do I have to worry about?

"CRUICO," Voldemort screamed.

"Hah. Reducto," Amelia shot her own curse in reply. "Red . . ." She dropped her wand and started screaming when one of Voldemort's curses hit.

"Yes," Voldemort purred, "let me hear your screams." He held the curse as he approached the fallen Auror. "Scream for me." Voldemort stood over his fallen foe for a few moments, relishing the feeling of power, relishing her helplessness. "Av . . ."

"Caries pulpa," Amelia's voice incanted from behind. Voldemort screamed in pain as his wand hand began crumbling to dust. "Rumpo os," the voice continued. To the caster's immense disappointment, the Dark Lord managed to escape only moments before the curse impacted. "Are you alright Auror Tonks?" Amelia yelled as she rushed to the fallen woman.

"Boss?" Tonks asked weakly. "Did you get him?"

"He's gonna have to learn to cast with his left hand," Amelia said gently, "but the bastard got away before I could finish the job." She cast several charms to check her Auror for damage.

"I can't move boss," Tonks said. Her voice cracked a bit. "What if I'm always like this?"

"Then there will be two people in the world with my face," Amelia said dryly, "would that be such a bad thing?"

"That's not what I meant boss," Tonks protested weakly. She coughed a bit and Amelia was alarmed to see blood on the Auror's lips. "And you know it."

"Look at me Auror Tonks," Amelia ordered. Damn it where was that back up? It should have been on it's way the second Susan made her escape. "We still have the matter of you disobeying my orders to deal with."

"Don't think it's gonna matter in a couple minutes boss," Tonks said in a near whisper.

"Stay with me Auror Tonks," Amelia screamed, "I did not give you permission to die."

"Sorry boss," Tonks said as she slipped out, "guess I can't do anything right."

"Tonks," Amelia said in horror, "Nymphadora wake up." A series of loud pops announced the arrival of their reinforcements.

"Sorry it took so long chief but . . ."

"Get me a healer now," Amelia interrupted, "and get this Auror to St. Mungos."

"Right chief," the man agreed. Already their field healer was rushing to the side of their fallen colleague.

"Now then," Amelia said in a tone so sweet that it would have rotted teeth, "why don't you explain to me exactly why you weren't here when you were supposed to be?"

"Fudge came in for a surprise inspection boss," the Auror said nervously, "had us all lined up and all our equipment on the floor when the call came."

"Arrest him," Amelia ordered. Her eyes were fixed on Tonks as they carried her off the field of battle.

"Arrest the Minister?" The Auror asked in shock.

"This was no coincidence," Amelia said harshly, "that bumbling fool is responsible for the dea . . . for the severe injury of one of my Aurors and I am not going to let him get away with it. Arrest him," she barked, "now."

"Yes chief," he agreed.

"Don't be gentle," she added. She turned and began walking away. "Call Moody out of retirement and have him and Shack on inside guard," Amelia called out over her shoulder, "and make sure everyone knows that I will personally crucify every mother's son on duty if the Minister finds some way out of that cell before I've had a chance to wring every detail of what happened tonight out of his worm ridden skull."

"Got it chief," he said meekly.

"I'll be at St. Mungos," Amelia said after a moment of thought, "have Auror Tonks's family escorted there to meet me." With that, she disappeared.

"I will boss," he said to the empty space, "damn. Why didn't I take that vacation?"

IIIIIIIIII

Jean-Paul came to dinner that evening and was surprised to find one less daughter at the table then there should have been.

"Where is Fleur?" He asked.

"She's all tied up at the moment," Gabrielle said airily.

"Being busy is no excuse to skip a meal," he protested, "go get her."

"She won't be able to come," Gabrielle said with an upraised chin, "she is having to diet and she will be skipping dinner and possibly breakfast also."

"And just why?" He asked. "Does she need to go on a diet?"

"She is getting on in years and beginning to gain weight" Gabrielle said imperiously, "and I for one am glad to see that she has realized that."

"Fleur," he called out. With a sigh, he rose from the table and walked up the stairs to his eldest daughter's room. "Fleur answer me." He knocked on the door and opened it after a few moments with no answer.

"Mumph," Fleur replied. She was tied to the frame of her bed and gagged with what appeared to be an old sock.

"Why can't you two girls just get along?" He sighed as he cut Fleur loose. "Is that too much to ask for? A little peace and quiet."

"I think that is a very reasonable request father," Fleur said with a dazzling smile.

"So . . ."

"Yes," Fleur agreed, "I am going to chain Gabrielle up in the Dungeon until she realizes the error of her ways." Fleur stormed out of the room and towards the breakfast table.

"That's not what I meant," he protested. They arrived at the table to find that Gabrielle had disappeared along with half the bread that had previously adorned the table.

"I suppose you think this is all funny?" He asked his wife sourly.

"I think that this is a good lesson on why doors have locks," Amarante replied, "one that Fleur is better learning now then later." She turned to address her daughter. "I believe that Gabrielle is hiding in the wine cellar if you would like to go speak with her."

"Thank you mother," Fleur said calmly as she strolled out of the room.

"Is she really?" Jean-Paul asked after Fleur was gone.

"So far as I know," Amarante replied.

"Why must you encourage them?" He asked. He held up a hand to stall her reply. "There is a situation that requires my attention."

"Come home as soon as you can my love," she said calmly. Years of marriage had taught her to accept the nature of her husband's work.

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia arrived at St. Mungos and was immediately set upon by her sobbing niece Susan. "I thought you were dead," Susan cried.

"I'm fine," Amelia said gently, "thanks to Auror Tonks I'm fine."

"What about her?" Susan asked in a small voice.

"She's here," Amelia said, "we're still waiting on news."

"Oh." Susan felt a rush of relief, followed by a wave of guilt, that it was the young Auror that had been injured rather then her Aunt Amelia.

"Why aren't you with the Abbots?" Amelia asked suddenly.

"They're here," Susan replied, "but Hanna's mum wanted the Healers to check me out to make sure that I was alright and I wanted to wait until you got here."

"That's fine," Amelia said. She waved over one of the many Aurors that had descended on the lobby.

"News on Tonks?" The Auror asked.

"No," Amelia said, "I want a team from Dignitary Protection to escort my niece to the Abbot residence and to stay there until I say otherwise."

"Right chief," the Auror agreed, "you'll tell us when you know something?"

"You all will probably get the news as soon as I do," Amelia replied. Her eyes flicked to the entrance where a nervous looking couple came in under Auror escort. "If you will excuse me, it appears that Auror Tonks's parents have just arrived."

"What's this all about?" Andromeda Tonks demanded as soon as she noticed the Director. "All they told me was that there had been an incident involving my daughter."

"Auror Tonks was injured while defending me from an assassination attempt by Voldemort himself," Amelia said with as much calm as she could muster, "she's currently in the operating theater." Andromeda's eyes flashed with rage, while her husband just seemed to collapse.

"Why in the hell was my daughter on a bodyguard mission?" Ms. Tonks nee Black demanded. "She shouldn't even be out of her probationary period."

"She wasn't," Amelia sighed, "to the question and the statement. I had invited her to dine with me, it was just bad luck that the attack happened tonight."

"Then . . ."

"I also ordered her to get out with my niece while I provided a distraction," Amelia continued in a haunted voice. Amelia gave a bitter smile. "Auror Tonks invited me to dismiss her, then took my appearance and attacked Voldemort. She deliberately distracted him so that I could get in a shot."

"Oh," Andromeda said dully. All her anger melted away and was replaced by grief. "So what now?"

"Now we sit here and wait to hear that my Auror, your daughter, has stabilized." Amelia replied. "After that I am going to tear the Ministry apart if I have to, but mark my words there will not be so much as a sympathizer when I'm done."

"Noble words," Jean-Paul Delacour said as he walked into the room, "would you care for some assistance?"

"Please," Amelia said gratefully.

"I came as soon as I heard," Jean-Paul continued, "I am so sorry to hear about your Auror."

"She's not dead yet," Andromeda said firmly, "I think you'll find that we Blacks are tougher then you think."

"I couldn't agree more," the Chief Healer laughed. Every eye in the room turned to look at her. "She's alive," she said quickly, "and stable."

"How long before she recovers?" Andromeda demanded.

"We're not sure," the Healer replied, "she died twice on the table while we were operating on her and that isn't the sort of thing that one recovers from quickly."

"When can I see my little girl?" Tonks's father spoke for the first time.

"Right now if you wish," she said, "but I should warn you. She's out at the moment and we'd rather that she not wake up for the next day or two."

"That's fine," her father said quickly, "I just want . . . I just need to see for myself that she's still alive."

"Right this way then." The Healer waved the couple out of the room.

"Shall we begin then?" Jean-Paul asked with a serene smile.

"Let's," Amelia said with a feral smile.

IIIIIIIIII

Ted and Andromeda Tonks were waiting by their daughter's bedside when she awoke.

"Dora," Ted whispered, "can you hear me?"

"D'n c'll m'Dra," Tonks protested.

"Nymphadora is a perfectly respectable name," Andromeda said with tears in her eyes, "and it's high time you learned to accept it."

"Mumm," Tonks groaned, "is Madame Bones okay?"

"She's fine," Ted assured the girl, "and she's quite annoyed at you young lady. Imagine not listening to the head of your department," he laughed, allowing himself to feel relief that his daughter was going to be alright.

"She's also worked herself into a right fury," Andromeda added with a grin, "I'd hate to be in the Ministry right now."

"Guess I picked a good time to get hurt," Tonks said with a smile.

"That's my girl," Ted said proudly, "anything to get a few days off work . . . paid too since it was in the line of duty."

"Really Nymphadora," Andromeda huffed, "allowing 'he-who-must-not-be-named' to beat you in a duel just to get a few days off. I'm sure there was none of that sort of thing on my side of the family." She gave her husband a meaningful look.

"Nope," Ted agreed, "they'd have all been on the other side of the fight."

"Probably," Andromeda agreed.

"Muuuuuum . . . Daaaaaad . . ." Tonks whined.

"The healers say that there is a good chance that you will be able to go back on active duty," Andromeda switched gears. "And Madame Bones has sent word that she wants your position as her assistant to be made permanent."

"Minerva McGonagall has sent word that Hogwarts would like to interview you for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," Ted added, "better pay then being an Auror when you consider that it comes with free room and board." It will also be safer, he added mentally. "And when prompted she added that there might be a couple other positions to fill."

"I'm an Auror dad," Tonks said firmly, "not a teacher."

"I just want you to know what your options are dear," he said innocently."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia and the Frenchman walked into Fudges holding cell and took their seats across from the man.

"Good evening Cornelius," Amelia said cheerfully, "how are you doing tonight?"

"You'll never get away with this," Fudge blustered, "I'll have you clapped in irons."

"I'm not doing so well myself," Amelia said, ignoring the man, "since I was attacked by Voldemort tonight. Quite spoiled my after dinner drink too when the duty squad didn't show up to give me back up. Can you tell me why you decided to conduct an inspection that just happened to delay them?"

"I am the Minister," Fudge screamed. "I don't answer to you, you answer to me."

"That's an interesting thought," Amelia said with a lazy grin, "isn't it Jean-Paul."

"That it is," the man agreed, "and it's even correct . . . in theory anyway."

"Theory?" Fudge asked sickly.

"One need only look at who controls the monopoly on violence to see where the real power lies," Amelia explained coldly.

"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf." Jean Paul quoted. "I was always a fan of George Orwell."

"And who are those 'rough men' loyal to?" Amelia asked. "Me or you?"

"You can't do this," Fudge said in horror, "people won't let you do this."

"My dear Cornelius," Amelia purred, "I already have."

"Shall we start with soft tissue?" Jean-Paul asked. "Or do you wish to see if he's responsive to truth potions first?"

IIIIIIIIII

Voldemort bit back a scream as his pet Healer poked and prodded the gangrenous stump that had replaced the Dark Lord's wand arm."

"I'm afraid that I'm going to have to take another four inches off master," the man said nervously, "and it will have to be soon before the rot spreads too much."

"How soon before it can be regrown?" Voldemort demanded.

"It can't be master," the man simpered, "but perhaps you could give yourself a silver . . ."

"CRUCIO," Voldemort incanted. The Dark Lord was angered beyond reason at the man's presumption, and of the fact that the only reason he'd been able to create a new limb for his servant was due to ritual the man had taken part in. "That is not an option."

"I'm sorry master," the man sobbed, "there's nothing else I can do."

"Cut it off then," Voldemort ordered.

"Yes master," the man agreed, "right away master."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia walked out of the holding cell after the grueling four hour interrogation of the Minister of Magic.

"Who would have guessed that he was merely corrupt?" Jean-Paul asked with an easy smile.

"I do not see much of a difference between betraying me and my Aurors for pay rather then ideology," Amelia retorted.

"Nor do I."

"I hate to ask it," Amelia said uncomfortably, "but we really can't afford to try the Minister for his crimes at this time."

"Not to mention the issue of sovereign immunity," he added with a smile, "say no more Amelia. I shall be happy to resolve this issue for you."

"I owe you another Jean-Paul," Amelia said gratefully.

"Another?"

"Starting from getting Harry Potter out of a bad home life and ending with this," Amelia replied, "thank you."

"Do not mention it Amelia," he said easily, "give me five minutes to clean things up here and then I will be able to help you continue your purge if you like."

"I'd appreciate the help," Amelia agreed.

"I could also have two dozen men from my department here within the hour if you like," he offered.

"That would help quite a bit," she said softly, "thank you again Jean-Paul."

"Do not thank me for this," he said easily, "my superiors agree that it would be best to deal with the rot here before it has a chance to spread to my own country."

"So it benefits us both," Amelia said with a shrug, "that doesn't change anything."

IIIIIIIIII

Severus Snape was not having a good day. Thanks to that simpering fool of a Auror, he had been tasked by the Headmaster to search Soho for the man that had defeated and arrested Lucius Malfoy with one spell.

"You," Snape growled at one of the scantily dressed 'women' he'd seen walking the streets.

"What can I do for you sugar?" The Transvestite asked with a coy smile.

"Do you know the French Tickler?"

"What's it worth to you?" s/he replied.

"Here." Snape thrust a handful of pounds into the creature's hands. "Well?"

"That'll do," the man said with a deep tone of satisfaction, "book 'im boys." Suddenly the street was full of uniformed officers, large uniformed officers that threw Snape to the ground and pushed his face into the asphalt.

Severus could only think of one thing to say in a situation like this. "DAMN YOU POTTER."

Snape's situation wasn't as bad as one might first think A first time offender arrested for solicitation wouldn't normally receive more then a slap on the wrist, the problem was that Snape didn't have the documents needed to prove his identity.

"I'm sure this can all be cleared up," Snape said in his most charming voice, one that caused the policewoman interviewing him to form an instant dislike of the oily man. Severus wasn't worried, every wizard knew how to deal with the muggle authorities, it was actually one of the few things the Ministry did right. "I'm simply a Canadian tourist that was unaware of the local laws and I forgot my . . ." Snape's mind went blank, what in the devil was that thing called? "My pisspot, if you'll just call the number I gave you then I'm sure that things will be resolved." And you fools will all be made to forget I ever existed. Perhaps he'd make a private visit later to show them all what a wizard was capable of when not constrained by the Statute of Secrecy?

"Canadian huh?" The woman asked. "Then it's my distinct pleasure to inform you that you are being expelled from the United Kingdom as an undesirable alien." It normally took months and piles of paperwork but her superiors had been willing to expedite things, she couldn't wait to tell them that falsifying the documentation to obscure the man's nationality wouldn't be necessary after all.

"What?" Snape asked dumbly.

"Unfortunately you'll be making the trip in the brig of one of Her Majesty's warships," she continued sweetly, "because of your fear of flying."

"Huh?" Snape asked dumbly.

IIIIIIIIII

Dumbledore arrived at St. Mungos and made a bee line to the room that held one of his Order members. "May I come in?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sure," Tonks agreed.

"It's a bit late for visitors," her father said with a glare at the old man.

"I won't be long," Dumbledore promised, "I just wanted to see for myself that Nymphadora was doing alright."

"Five minutes," Ted said grudgingly.

"Dad," Tonks protested.

"Agreed," Dumbledore said quickly. "How do you feel Nymphadora?"

"Call me Tonks," she said sullenly.

"Dora," her dad sighed, "it's a perfectly respectable name."

"Tonks then," Dumbledore said before the young woman could say anything, "how do you feel?"

"Better then I did a couple hours ago," Tonks said with a smile, "Healers think I'll be out of here in a couple days."

"The damage wasn't as bad as I was led to believe then," Dumbledore said with a relieved smile.

"It was worse," her father spat, "she died several times on the table." He grabbed his daughter's hand reflexively. "We're lucky we didn't loose her."

"I see," Dumbledore said, "the damage was easy to correct then?"

"Was there anything else?" Tonks asked. "How's everyone doing? Any news on Harry?"

"Everyone is doing fine," Dumbledore assured her, "no news on Harry, but I have no reason to believe that he's come to any harm."

"Good," Tonks sighed, "I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to the little guy."

"Yes . . . well . . . I'll be sure to keep you apprized of any further developments," he said uncomfortably, "and I shall be sure to have the minutes from the Order meetings sent to you for perusal."

"I didn't know there were any minutes?"

"There weren't," Dumbledore replied, his smile had recovered. "But I really don't think that Minerva has anything better to do then to arrange them to be taken."

"Thanks," Tonks said with a grin. Her boss was gonna love this. "I appreciate the thought."

"Not at all," Dumbledore said, "and unless there's something you'd like to discuss then I'm afraid I must be going."

"Can't think of a thing," Tonks said with a sunny smile, "bye Professor."

"Goodbye Nymp . . . Tonks."

"Bedtime," Ted said after Dumbledore left the room.

"Dad?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"Bedtime," he said clearly, "time for you to go to sleep."

"I'm a full grown woman and an Auror," Tonks said with an odd look on her face, "you can't just tell me to go to sleep."

"Do I need to call your boss in here to do it for me then?" He asked calmly.

"You wouldn't?"

"Try me."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry and his new friend Adélaïde got his Portkey from the concierge the next morning so that Harry could begin the next leg of his journey.

"Goodbye 'arrie," she purred, "I shall always look back on our time together fondly."

"Me too," Harry said with a lazy grin, "you can write me at Hogwarts after the school year begins . . . suppose you could send me a letter in care of the Delacour family before summer ends since I'm planning to visit them at some point."

"Thank you 'arrie," she said, "I will."

"See you again Adélaïde," Harry said as the portkey activated.

"Count on it," she said with a grin.

IIIIIIIIII

Arthur arrived at work the next day and felt as if he had stepped through the looking glass into another world. To start with, there had been a dozen Aurors stationed at the employee entrance who had ordered him to go straight to the Minister's office. Arthur took several deep breaths before knocking on the door, hoping desperately that his fear of being dismissed for supporting Dumbledore was unfounded.

"Come in Arthur," a woman's voice called out.

"Amelia?" Arthur asked in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I was attacked by Voldemort last night," Amelia said bluntly, "and Fudge helped him do it."

"What?" Arthur felt his insides go cold. "Is he under arrest?"

"He's disappeared," Amelia said with a lazy grin, "along with several dozen other Ministry employees. Such a shame don't you think?"

"Is that why I'm here?" Arthur's mouth went dry. "To disappear?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Amelia laughed. "You're here because you're almost beyond reproach."

"I am?"

"You don't honestly think that anyone believes you're a Death Eater do you?"

"You can only be betrayed by those you trust," Arthur pointed out, "and doesn't it look just a bit suspicious that my family hasn't been attacked?"

"You're arguing that you could very well be a Death Eater and that you can't be trusted?" Amelia asked in amusement. "Really Arthur."

"Just pointing things out," Arthur said with a blush, "can't take any chances after all."

"I promise we'll have you checked out then," Amelia said with a wave, "happy?"

"What do you need me for Amelia?"

"I need you to take charge of my evidence room," Amelia replied, "I'm shuffling things around to get as many Aurors out from behind desks as possible. This is all in addition to your old job of course."

"Of course," he agreed unhappily.

"Sorry Arthur but we're all spread a bit thin at the moment," she said contritely, "I'll see if I can get you a couple people. No promises."

"We all do what we must Amelia," Arthur sighed.

"Thank you Arthur." Amelia slide a pile of documents across her desk. "Could you please sign these."

"What are they?"

"Acceptance forms for your new position, information on your new pay scale, et cetera."

"This can't be right?" Arthur said in wonder. "I'm making more then a twenty year senior Auror."

"You're working as the head of one department and doing extra work for another," Amelia said frankly, "I'd give you more if I could authorize it with my signature."

"Thank you Amelia."

"Everyone's getting raises Arthur," she said quickly, "especially in Law Enforcement."

IIIIIIIIII

Jean-Paul arrived home and immediately went on guard as his finely honed danger senses informed him that there was something wrong. It was quiet, too quiet.

"Welcome back my love," his wife said happily, "how was your trip?"

"Where are the girls?" Jean-Paul demanded, resisting the urge to allow his paranoia to take control.

"Gabrielle has locked herself in her room and Fleur is laying siege," Amarante replied absently.

"I have had enough of this," he growled. Jean-Paul stormed up the stairs and grabbed his eldest daughter, a couple quick spells overcame the charms that Gabrielle had used to bolster her defenses and Jean-Paul walked in and grabbed her with his other hand. "I have had it. You two are sisters, you should be supporting each other not bickering like this." He took several deep breaths. "Now then, I am going to leave the room and you had better have this all worked out by the time I get back."

Jean-Paul Delacour returned with his wife and watched their two daughters argue for several minutes with a sense of annoyance on his part and a great sense of amusement on hers. The two girls locked gazes for a few moments before nodding and turning to their parents with identical looks of smug satisfaction on their faces.

"Oh god," he said in horror, "what is it you've cooked up?"

"Gabrielle and I have reached an agreement," Fleur said with a smile.

"You said that we should be supporting each other," Gabrielle added rebelliously.

"Oh?" Amarante asked eagerly. "What sort of arrangement."

"We will allow 'arrie to decide who he wishes to marry," Fleur said cheerfully, "and the looser will become 'arrie's mistress." This would have never happened if her competitive spirit hadn't been sparked, as it was it had and Fleur was not thinking clearly.

"As if he would choose an old cow when he could have a beautiful young girl like myself," Gabrielle interjected, causing Fleur to growl in annoyance and assuring that the fires of competition would not die any time soon.

"What?" Jean-Paul exclaimed. "You can't just . . ." He froze. "I have to go, I will leave this situation in your capable hands my love."

"Of course," Amarante agreed, "I will deal with everything." She waited until her husband had left before turning back to her daughters. "So tell me, how exactly will this situation work?" Growing up with a veela as a mother had taught Amarante a very different set of morals then was normally found in a woman in her social position, and well . . . to be honest, this situation was much too amusing to allow to die a natural death.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry shook off the affects of the portkey and looked around. He shivered, the air here was significantly colder then it had been at his last stop. In the distance he could see a crescent shaped harbor filled with what he presumed were fishing boats.

"Where the hell am I now?" Harry muttered.

"Saint Pierre and Miquelon," a feminine voice replied.

"What?" Harry spun around.

"Saint Pierre and Miquelon," she repeated, "how did you get here without knowing where you were?"

"It's a long story," Harry sighed.

"Does it have something to do with using strange portkeys?" She asked suspiciously. "What kind of trouble are you in that you'd do something stupid like that?"

"I told the concierge to surprise me," Harry said with a shrug, "he did."

"Oh." She relaxed a hair. "So you're not in any trouble."

"I do have a group of people out to kill me," Harry admitted, "but other then that, no."

"What kind of people are trying to kill you?" She demanded.

"Death Eaters," Harry replied, "they're a group of purebloods in the UK that dress up in stupid costumes."

"I've heard of them," she said dryly. "Evangéline Arsenault," she introduced herself, "Chief of Magical Law Enforcement for the colony of Acadia."

"Wow," Harry said, more then a bit impressed by the title. "Harry Potter."

"It's not as impressive as it sounds," she said with a smile, "all that's left of the once grand colony is this tiny island."

"Oh. So where are we anyway?"

"Not far from Canada," she replied, "have you gone through customs?"

"Not here," Harry admitted.

"Let me see your passport then." She held out an expectant hand.

"Sure," Harry agreed, handing it over.

She flipped through it for a few moments before handing it back. "Never mind, you do not have to go through customs."

"I don't?"

"Not with that visa," she replied, "have you eaten?"

"No."

"Come on then," she said, "I'll buy you lunch."

"Thanks."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia was learning what it was to be in hell. The Minister had an easy job, possibly the easiest job in the magical part of the United Kingdom. All he had to do was sign whatever was put in the signature bin and veto everything that had been put in the veto bin and the gold would pour in. All that of course depended on someone that cared more for gold then a smooth running government. When a competent person took the reigns of power, well, let's just say that Amelia was more then a bit tempted to have herself arrested and imprisoned for the role she played in the coup.

"Hello again Amelia," Jean-Paul said as he walked into her office.

"Glad you're here," she said, "good to have a friendly face around anyway."

"Why's that?"

"ICW decided to send an observer," Amelia replied, "not sure who by my contacts say that he's a real bastard. Last thing we need is sanctions on top of the mess that Fudge left behind." She closed her eyes. "You wouldn't happen to know how your government is going to jump would you?"

"Full support," he said, "and the ICW rep is more then a bit annoyed at what went on under the Fudge administration."

"One worry lessened a bit," Amelia said greatfully, "you wouldn't happen to know who they're sending would you?"

"I would indeed."

"Who?"

"Me."

"You?"

"Yep."

"How long were you going to wait before sharing this little tidbit of information with me you son of a bitch?" She laughed.

"I was going to stretch it out a bit more but that seemed like a good place to tell you," he said with a grin, "how's your house cleaning going?"

"It's like wading through a pool of shit," Amelia said bluntly, "and it'll be weeks before I'm sure that we have a good picture of what happened."

"What percentage of employees have you vetted?"

"All of them," Amelia replied, "except one and since she missed it because she's in the hospital after being wounded saving my life . . . well, I think you'll understand that I'm willing to cut her a bit of slack on the issue."

"All of them?" He asked in astonishment.

"I made it my top priority when I realized just how deep they'd sunk their claws," Amelia sighed, "I'm down by thirty percent and another fifty is suspect. Bastards will go with the strong horse and keep their heads down."

"That's life," he said with a shrug, "how are the men I sent fitting in?"

"Vetted and useful," Amelia replied, "you couldn't round up a hundred more could you?"

"No," he said, "but you might try asking your commonwealth or the Americans."

"One headache at a time."

IIIIIIIIII

Severus Snape was not a happy man. First he'd been arrested, then he'd been subjected to all manor of indignities, and to top it all of he'd been locked away in this bloody boat.

"Good news Mr. Snape," one of the guards said as he flipped on the lights, "looks like you'll be leaving us sooner then we thought."

"So you're letting me go then?"

"No," he said, "the Canadians got back to us and told us that they don't have any record of you at all so you're not going there. Luckily, the Canadian Battleship Athabaskan is going to Liberia and they've agreed to take you on the off chance that you might be from there."

"How is that good news?" Snape demanded.

"It's good news to us," he said cheerfully, "since we won't have to deal with you anymore. Ta ta."

"Damn you."

IIIIIIIIII

Jean-Paul returned from England; gathered his wife up into his arms and soundly kissed her. "Have you arranged things my love?" he asked.

"Of course," Amarante replied without looking up from her newspaper, "I've managed to make our daughters understand that 'arrie will have a much happier household if his wife and mistress get along with each other."

"What?" He asked dully. "That's not what I meant?"

"It isn't?" She asked with false surprise. "Silly me." She flipped a page. "Nothing to do now but sit back and watch the situation develop."

"Where are the girls?" He asked reluctantly.

"Gabrielle is in the Vineyard and I doubt that she will listen to you," he wife said with a bright smile, "she thinks that this is all a wonderful idea since it allows her to have 'arrie and to keep her sister close."

"What about Fleur?"

"Fleur is upstairs," Amarante said, "but she is in a stubborn mood so I doubt she will listen either. You could always try forbidding her," Amarante said hopefully, knowing that would only push their daughter further.

"Or I could try something that might work," he retorted.

"Like what?" She asked skeptically.

"I am going to have a calm conversation with her," he said, "our daughter is an intelligent girl after all."

"True." On the other hand, she was also stubborn and competitive. "Good luck my love."

"Thank you," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. He walked up the stairs and found their daughter reclining in the library with a book. "May I have a moment of your time Fleur?"

"Of course father," she said brightly. "But I warn you, I will not allow you to talk me out of my agreement with Gabrielle."

"You're not thinking this through my darling," Jean-Paul tried to use logic with his eldest daughter, "just calm down and . . ."

"I will not let Gabrielle beat me," Fleur hissed, her mood shifting in an instant, "not after she said that I was old and that my bossism were starting to sag to the floor."

"But Fleur . . ."

"No buts," Fleur said with an imperious sniff, "this conversation is over father." Fleur rose to her feet and stormed out of the room.

"That went well," Amarante said soothingly. She'd followed her husband up to watch the fun.

"It would have gone better if you hadn't encouraged her," Jean-Paul sighed.

"Me?" Amarante asked innocently, butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "Would I encourage a situation like this for my own amusement?"

"Yes you would," he said sourly.

"True," she agreed, "but it is not as if the poor boy would mistreat either of them is it?"

"From what I've heard and observed, he's a fairly decent sort."

"And he is resistant to their allure is he not?"

"So I've been told," he agreed.

"And is it possible that he will attempt to run away after we tell him the situation?" Amarante asked. "Providing much opportunity for wacky hijinks?"

"It's possible," he agreed reluctantly.

"There you go then," she said with a satisfied smile, "you see? I am right once again."

IIIIIIIIII

They dragged Snape out of the brig and took him to the deck where two burly Canadian sailors were waiting next to what at first appeared to be a large canoe.

"Is that canoe going to take me to their ship?" Snape sneered.

"That is their ship," the guard said easily.

"Well . . . at least they can't lock me in the brig," Snape said optimistically.

"About that . . ."

Snape's eyes turned to the rope in the hands of the Canadian crew member's hands.

"I just want you to know that I loathe you all," Snape said sourly as they hogtied him and tossed him in the bottom of the canoe.

IIIIIIIIII

The Chief, some would say only, Acadian Law Enforcement officer watched Harry put away his meal like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Good?" She asked.

"Sorry," Harry said with a blush, "I don't normally eat this well during the summer."

"Don't worry about it," she advised, "just shows that you're a growing boy."

"Thanks."

"And don't worry about Death Eaters," she continued, "if you see one just tell me and I'll clap 'em in irons."

"Really?"

"Cross my heart."

"Oh . . . well, in that case there are three of them sitting in that booth over there. I was going to wait until after they did something but since you offered . . ."

"Really?" She asked in shock. "Three of them?"

"Yep," Harry agreed.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a hand with them would you?"

"If you like," Harry agreed. Faster then she could track it, Harry's wand appeared in his hand and shot three spells at the unsuspecting Death Eaters.

"How the hell did you do that?"

"Good reflexes," Harry replied. "Suppose the fact that it's normally them doing the ambushing and me reacting might have something to do with it too. Nice to be on the other side of it for once, really boosts my confidence to know that they should have had me in the ground a long time ago."

"Yeah," she said with an odd look on her face, "you ever think of becoming a Law Enforcement officer in Acadia? Good hours, decent pay, all the fish you can buy from the fishermen."

"Can't say I have," Harry said, "but I will."

"Good, cause I'm allowed to have two more deputies then I've got now and it'd be nice to have someone competent for a change."

"How many do you have now?"

"Just the one," she replied, "and Barney isn't the sort to be mentioned in the same sentence as the word 'competent.' Not unless it has an 'in' preceding it anyway."

"I'll think about it," he promised, "can't be worse then working for the Ministry and I'd bet it would be a whole lot better."

"That's the spirit," she cheered.

"It'll have to be after I take care of Voldemort though," he said regretfully, "can't see it working out until don't have a Dark Lord trying to kill me."

"Mentioning that you have a Dark Lord out to kill you isn't normally the sort of thing you mention in a job interview," she advised, "so you know."

"I'll remember that," he laughed, "and on that note."

"Yes."

"You wouldn't happen to know where I could get a portkey would you? It's not that I don't like the place, it's just . . . well, when Death Eaters show up then you know it's not the best place to hang around."

"I'll take care of it myself," she offered, "and this time it'll be to a location you know."

"Oh?"

"Don't think I didn't admire that knife you used to cut your meat," she said with a grin, "be ready in two shakes."

"Thanks . . . and could you make sure it's some place warmer then this."

"It's the least I can do for my future deputy."

IIIIIIIIII

Tonks limped into the Minister's office and did her best to stand straight in front of the Minister's desk. "Auror Tonks reporting . . ."

"Sit down before you fall on your ass," Amelia barked, "what in the hell are you doing out of the hospital?"

"They . . ."

"Don't you even dare think about telling me that they released you," Amelia snapped.

"I couldn't stand it there boss," Tonks whined, "the food sucked and my parents were always hovering over me . . . and they made me pee in this pan on the bed, do you know how humiliating that is?"

"I've often thought that they did all that intentionally so that you were motivated to stay away," Amelia sighed, "what are you doing here then?"

"Where else am I going to go?" Tonks said simply. "I'd go insane staying home and I'd go insane even faster if I stayed with my parents."

"I suppose you can still do paperwork," Amelia agreed reluctantly, "don't get up."

"But my desk is . . ."

"Where ever I say it is," Amelia finished the sentence, "and I say that you're not leaving my sight until I'm satisfied that you're not going to harm yourself."

"Yes boss."

"Not to mention that even after the security checks, you're one of the few Aurors I can trust." Amelia rubbed her temple. "A bloody mess it is."

"Didn't realise it was that bad," Tonks said sympathetically, "they told me that Voldemort had been quiet lately."

"Loosing an arm really seems to have slowed him down," Amelia said proudly.

"So what are my duties here?"

"Whatever I decide they are," Amelia said with a smile. "At a minimum, you are going to be attending the close protection course, the advanced dueling course, the instructor course at the academy, and several dance lessons."

"Am I going to have time to do all that boss?"

"I told them to trim the fat and drop the posturing," Amelia said with a wave, "that makes them all significantly shorter."

"Even the dance course?"

"That's more to cram enough into your head so that you don't make a fool of yourself," Amelia said. And hopefully to mitagate some of that clumsyness, she added privately. "As for your duties . . ."

"Yes?"

"I'm thinking of having you teach a few classes at Hogwarts," she said.

"But boss . . ."

"Wait till I get to the good part," Amelia advised, "as a cover for your real job which will be guarding and tutoring that troublesome cousin of yours."

"I get to train Harry?" Tonks asked in delight.

"You get to train Harry," she confirmed.

"Thank you boss."

"Don't mention it," Amelia said with a dismissive wave. "For the time being, I want you to read through that stack of reports and pull out anything interesting or funny for me."

"Yes boss," Tonks agreed.

"If I need to leave for some reason then you are to stay here. If you need something then you are not to get it yourself. If you need to go to the loo then you are to call for assistance."

"Boss . . ."

"I have plans for you Auror Tonks," Amelia said firmly, "and I will not have you messing them up with your childness."

"Yes boss," she agreed.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry looked around and marveled at the stone buildings. It appeared as if the entire town had been unchanged for hundreds of years.

"Why don't you take a seat?" A pleasant voice asked. "Have some cheese, maybe a bit of wine, and we can get things settled."

"Thank you, Mister . . ."

"Inspector Charles LaRousse Dreyfus," the man replied.

"Harry Potter."

"May I ask why you decided to visit our fair town?"

"Sight seeing," Harry replied, "where are we anyway?"

"You do not know?"

"I asked for someplace warmer then Saint Pierre," Harry explained.

"And they sent you here 'eh," the man laughed, "we are in a small magical village in Aveyron France."

"Oh . . . then I guess I'm also going to visit friends while I'm here."

"Magical or mundane?"

"Magical."

"I could probably help you find them then," the Inspector said with a grin, "if you tell me their names."

"The Delacour family," Harry said, "I've been told that they have a house around here."

"What business do you have with them?" Dreyfus demanded, the civility dropped from his face.

"Like I said," Harry said in confusion, "I just wanted to say hi."

"Are they aware that you are coming to visit?"

"Should be," Harry agreed.

"What are their names from youngest to eldest?"

"I only know Fleur and Gabrielle," Harry admitted, "but I've met their father."

"When?"

"At the beginning of summer," Harry replied.

"How do you know Fleur and Gabrielle?" He barked. "Where did you meet them?"

"I met them at Hogwarts," Harry said quickly. "I know Fleur because I competed in the Triwizard tournament with her and I know Gabrielle because I pulled her out of the lake."

"Wait here," he ordered, "have some cheese, drink some wine. Do not make any sudden movements, draw your wand, or try to leave."

"Okay," the incredibly confused Harry agreed. He honestly didn't understand why the man had suddenly changed when the Delacour family was mentioned, maybe it was because pureblood bigots were an even larger problem here then they were back home.

"My apologies sir," the Inspector said with a courteous smile as he walked back to the table, "I'm sure you will understand that two girls as lovely as the Delacour sisters are sometimes the victims of unwanted attention."

"And you were looking out for them," Harry said in understanding, "I understand. Thanks for keeping my friends safe."

"It is both an honor and a pleasure," he replied, "Madame Delacour is coming to get you. She insisted on escorting you back to the chateau herself and I am afraid that I could not turn down such a charming woman's request."

"I was going that way anyway, it'll be nice to have some company."

"An excellent attatude," he agreed, "are you enjoying the food?"

"It's wonderful," Harry gushed, "what kind of cheese is this? I've never had anything like it."

"That my young friend is Roquefort, by law it can only be made in this area."

"Wow."

IIIIIIIIII

Amarante walked into the sitting room and motioned for her daughters to take their seats. "I have some important news for the both of you."

"What is it mother?" Gabrielle asked.

"What have you been waiting for all summer?"

"You mean . . . 'arrie is coming."

"He is here," Amarante said happily, "our dear friend Inspector Charles is with him right now."

"I must change," Gabrielle shrieked, "and do my hair, and . . ."

"I am going to get him," Amarante said calmly, "you two get yourselves ready while I am gone."

"Yes mother," the two girls agreed.

She smiled as they dashed off to their rooms in a panic, ah to be young again.

IIIIIIIIII

Jean-Paul was in the Minister's office with Madame Bones when he suddenly froze and shivered for no apparent reason.

"What is it?" Amelia asked in concern.

"I'm fairly sure my condition isn't contagious," Tonks added.

"I just felt a chill," he replied, "like someone just walked across my grave."

"Why don't we call it a day then?" Amelia suggested. "It'll do us all a lot of good to knock off early anyway."

"Thank you," he said greatfully. He gathered up his things and departed.

"It's probably nothing," Tonks offered.

"Probably," Amelia agreed, "are you free tonight Auror Tonks?"

"No plans boss," Tonks replied, "you want me to work late?"

"No," Amelia said, "I was hoping that you could have dinner with us tonight. I promise that the backup won't be late and I'll have half a dozen Senior Aurors posted around the property to prevent a repeat of last time."

"I don't know . . ."

"Susan will be inconsolable if you don't show up," Amelia pressed, "she really looks up to you and is hoping to spend the night bothering you for personal information."

"Really not the best argument to use boss," Tonks laughed.

"Well?"

"Sure boss," she agreed, "why not."

IIIIIIIIII

As they rode to the Delacour house, Jean-Paul's wife gave Harry a smile that immediately set his danger senses to maximum.

"I think I should warn you about something before we get to my home," Amarante said calmly.

"Warn me about what?"

"I'm not sure it's my place to tell you," she demured.

"Oh . . . alright then."

"But I think I must," she said, annoyed at his lack of reaction.

"If you must," Harry agreed, "what is it?"

"My daughters 'ave agreed that one will be your wife and the other your mistress," the gorgeous half veela replied with a sultry grin, "such a lucky boy you are no?"

"No," Harry agreed, "I gotta get out of here."

"But you 'ave already agreed to stay with us," the woman said with a pout. It would not do to allow the boy to escape and thus avert the fun. "Are you breaking that promise?"

"No." Harry slumped. "I'm not breaking my promise."

"Excellent," Amarante purred, "so good to know that you are a man of your word."

The second Harry walked through the front door he found himself under assault by not one but two girls. Gabrielle attached herself to his left side and began chattering in French too rapid to understand while Fleur moulded herself to his right while whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

"May I borrow him for a few moments girls?" Their mother asked. She smiled at Gabrielle's suspicious glare. "I promise you both that I have no designs on his body." She led him up the stairs and to one of the bedrooms. "This is where you'll be staying while you're here. Fleur is across the hall and Gabrielle is on your right."

"Oh . . . thank you."

"If I were you, I'd research some hefty locking and privacy charms before going to sleep tonight." She laughed in delight. "Or some silencing charms if you don't want to learn the other two I suppose." Oh the look on his face, he was as amusing as she hoped he would be. "Come along 'arrie, we had better get back down stairs before my daughters come to think that I'm having my wicked way with you."

"Uh . . ." To be quite frank, Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that statement.

IIIIIIIIII

Tonks did her best to ignore the looks of hero worship on the faces of Hanna and Susan. Bloody embarrassing it was, she thought to herself, now I know why Harry hates it so bloody much.

"Weren't . . . weren't you scared when you attacked Vol . . . Volde . . . Voldewho?" Susan asked breathlessly.

"Course not," Tonks snorted, "I knew your aunt had my back. All I had to do was distract him long enough for her to get her shot in." The looks of awe were redirected to Madame Bones.

"She's just being modest," Amelia said confidently, "I didn't expect to do anything but die until Tonks jumped in. If it weren't for her then I wouldn't be here right now and Voldemort would have two arms." The looks shot back to Tonks and locked on.

"Uh . . ." Tonks glared at her boss. "I'm sure . . . uh . . . damn."

"Keep asking questions girls," Amelia ordered, "Auror Tonks needs to learn to get over this shyness of hers and you girls may not get another opportunity to talk to such an accomplished Auror." She grinned at the look of malice on her underling's face, that'll lern the lil bint to follow orders next time.

IIIIIIIIII

Gabrielle slipped out of her bed and crept down the hall to the room that had been assigned to Harry. Imagine her surprise to find her older sister on her knees picking the lock.

"What are you doing?" Gabrielle demanded. She had just caught her older sister skulking around the guest room that contained her future husband and she was not happy that Fleur had sought the first taste.

"I am simply giving 'arrie a chance to experience the difference between a woman and a child," Fleur said with a superior look on her face, "now run along young child."

"Raaaa," Gabrielle screamed as she flung herself at Fleur.

"Merde alors," their mother grumbled as she hit the two girls with hexes to end the fight, "you girls can just stay on the floor until you learn to get along." She stormed back into her chambers and flung herself on to the bed next to her husband. "Honestly."

"I guess it's true," he said glumly.

"What is?"

"That daughters are god's curse on a man for being a man," Jean-Paul replied. He closed his eyes, there had to be a way to settle things down to their normal levels. A slow smile formed on Jean-Paul's face as a plan began to form. It wouldn't be hard at all to keep the boy away from his two attractive daughters, he just had to explain things the right way and the boy would do all the work for him. "Jean-Paul," he muttered to himself, "you're a genius."

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing dear."

IIIIIIIIII

Voldemort groaned in pain as the healer took another two inches off his arm. "When is this going to be done with?" The Dark Lord demanded. "Answer me you simpering fool."

"Forgive me master," he sobbed, "the rot is too fast. Every time I think I've cut it all out, I find a new place it's infected. I . . . I can't cut much more, if it goes much further."

"Fool," Voldemort laughed, "I AM IMORTAL." He was still laughing two hours later when the healer removed his shoulder and he didn't stop until the rot reached his heart.

IIIIIIIIII

Jean-Paul waved for Harry to join him after breakfast that day and the curious 'boy-who-lived' followed his savior out of the room and into the man's study.

"Harry," Jean-Paul said with a grave look on his face, "there's something I need to tell you."

"Yeah."

"I wouldn't share this information with just anyone you understand," he began, "it's just that I like you and I feel a certain responsibility for your welfare."

"And." Harry was starting to get nervous.

"Well . . . I just." He sighed. "I just don't think you realize what you're getting into here." He looked around nervously. "Has anyone ever told you about Veela mating rituals?"

"No."

"Well . . ." Jean-Paul felt a bit guilty for what he was about to do, sure he liked the kid but he wasn't sure he wanted Harry to impregnate both his daughters before the summer was out. Maybe he'd go back in a few months and tell the boy that it was all a joke, it wasn't his fault things had turned out this way. He'd been sure that Fleur would be distant, friendly but aloof. While Gabrielle wouldn't be able to muster the courage to string more then two words together in Harry's presence. "You've got to promise that what I tell you never leaves this room and I'll give you the warning that no one ever gave me."

IIIIIIIIII

Amarante walked into the room where her two daughters were plotting Harry Potter's downfall causing them both to look up guiltily. "Don't mind me," she said, "I just thought you'd want to know something."

"What is it mother?" Fleur asked.

"Your father has filled 'arrie's head with some nonsense about Veela eating a . . . personal part of the body after copulation," she replied, "said that it was why he only had two daughters."

"Harry didn't fall for it did he?" Gabrielle asked sickly.

"Your father is quite good at manufacturing evidence," Amarante pointed out, "it has been his profession for several decades you know."

"So 'arrie thinks that we will harm him and is escaping into the night." Gabrielle moaned, her voice hardened. "Release the hounds."

"Mother," Fleur called out.

"Yes darling."

"Will the hounds find 'arrie or will they find him and kill him?"

"Chain up the hounds," Gabrielle's voice called out loudly. "Damn."

"Language," her mother scolded.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry and Jean-Paul ran through the extensive vineyards that surrounded the Delacour estates.

"Wait up 'arrie," Gabrielle's voice called out. The two men looked back to see their pursuers gaining ground. "I must explain."

"We're not going to make it," Harry moaned.

"Run boy," Jean-Paul shouted, "It's too late for me, I'll hold 'em off." Harry didn't need to be told twice and was gone in a flash.

"Father," Gabrielle asked tearfully, "how could you."

"Honey I . . ." He stowed his wand, reached out to hug her, and was hit by Fleur's stunner and everything went black.

Several hours later, Jean-Paul awoke to find himself strapped to a table in the dungeon. "Girls," he called out, "I can explain." A loud 'wooshing' sound from above caused him to look up and his eyes bulged in shock as he saw a large bladed pendulum swinging back and fourth over his midsection.

"Uh . . . girls," he called out, "can we talk about this?"

"Where is 'arrie?" Gabrielle demanded.

"I don't know," he replied.

"Wrong answer," Gabrielle growled, "lower it."

"Would it help to tell you that I'm sorry?" He asked as the blade dropped another foot.

"No."

AN: Added the last few scenes were all for the pendulum, couldn't resist tossing that in and it may or may not stay if I decide to continue this. Doubt they would have gotten written if I hadn't been up for thirty some hours by the time it got written. Tommy King, dogbertcarroll, bit of editing by Belas, title by canoncansodoff

Omake by fenriswolf001

"You're being transferred to more secure quarters; word has reached us that Voldemort is going use distraction of the full moon to try and break you out. By the way, meet your special guard for the night, he'll be staying in your cell with you to keep you safe. Cornelius, say hello to Remus Lupin, former Professor of Hogwarts, and fiance of Nymphadora Tonks..."

Omake by SP

"What?" Harry asked dumbly.

"My daughters 'ave agreed that one will be your wife and the other your mistress," the gorgeous half veela replied with a sultry grin, "such a lucky boy you are no?"

"No," Harry agreed, "I gotta get out of here."

"But you 'ave already agreed to stay with us," the woman said with a pout. It would not do to allow the boy to escape and thus avert the fun. "Are you breaking that promise?"

"N-No, but..." Harry begged, "But I can't... satisfy... two veela!"

"Zat's all right. We 'ave Viagra, and I shall 'ave a copy of ze French Kama Sutra sent to your room, vite."

Omake by neil.reynolds

A Conversation Between Tonks and A. Bones:

"Boss, what I can't understand is why the French government didn't send you a description of the other two aurors that went to France with me. I mean, you know why I can't remember their appearance, but I couldn't imagine the tailor not being able to give the French aurors a description."

With an odd smile, Amelia asked, "Who said they didn't include a description?"

"Then why did you call just me in, and behave like that?"

"Simple. You were the only one explicitly identified. You are also still a trainee. There for I had to decide how I'd deal with you before I could deal with your partner. Because your name was given, I had the excuse to call you in first and find out more about the situation."

"Why would you even need the excuse?"

"Because I haven't officially resolved the situation yet. The French told me that one of the men had a pegleg and a false eye, and flashed an auror's badge. Luckily we don't have anyone like that on the force, so I have to conclude he was just pretending to be an auror. Now if he had done it in Britain, it would have been impersonating an auror, and I'd have to issue a warrant with that description; but since it wasn't in a country where the badge was valid, it wasn't a crime."

Tonks asked, "And what about ..." She paused looking for a safe term, "the other auror?"

"He didn't flash a badge, and his only identification as an auror was your testimony, and you had already mislead them once into thinking the pegleg man was an auror, so I don't need to grill all of the bald black aurors in my command. It could be just a coincidence that your partner is the only one to match that description. He did threaten violence against the tailor, so whoever he is had better not go to France."

"But don't we have some sort of reciprocal arrangement with France allowing us limited powers over there?"

"Only when in hot pursuit of a criminal. The chase has to be both time critical, and following a serious criminal. Harry Potter was not wanted by the police, and the chase occurred long enough afterwards that he could have had a full wardrobe made up. As aurors, you were allowed to follow his portkey without going through customs, as part of an investigation; but once the tailor refused to speak, you were required to leave or speak to either someone from customs, an embassy or a French auror. Making a detour to buy your father a present is the kind of thing both countries agree to ignore."

Omake by nielingage

Department of Licensing:

"Welcome. Please take a number and wait to be served.:

Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Walden Macnair all grabbed their numbers and found seating.

"There has to be an easier way to do this," muttered Macnair.

"True," growled Bellatrix. "We waste four or five hours here every time we have to come in."

"Stop whining," Lucius ordered. "If we don't keep our Murder Licenses current we'll be picked up in a heartbeat by the Aurors. If we didn't have our licenses we'd be in Azkaban before you could so much as bleat."

He glanced at his ticket: #363. Then his gaze rose to the "Now Serving" board, which read #7.

"Make a note, Bella," he said. "I want to know the names of the people running the counters. They might be deserving of an invitation to the next Dark Revel."

Omake for Tickler by Sha

"Have you anything to report on this French Tickler person, Alastor?" the Order meeting steadfastly ignored the sniggering coming from a certain metamorphmagus.

"Actually, I've got a question to put to McGonagall about that," Moody growled.

"Yes, Moody?" Minerva asked, her stern expression tightening slightly as she realized that Tonks had stopped giggling and was now leaning forward on the table, intently paying attention to their conversation. If that wasn't the mark of trouble, Minerva had never had to organize detention for a certain set of Marauders.

"Well, one of the witnesses I questioned, really, the only one that was actually sober, mentioned that this French Tickler person had really put a feather in her cap. Now I know that a lot of witches wear feathers, Minerva, you included, but I never questioned why until...now...is there something you'd like to say Auror Tonks?" he demanded of the momentarily silent, and now hysterically laughing shapeshifter.

"No, no. (giggle) I just always wondered (snort) about why some witches (hiccup) wear feathers! (full blown laugh) Now I know!"

Snape Omake: by moshehim

"Arrest him for soliciting."

"Soliciting? I'm not a solicitor, I'm a potion Master!" bellowed Snape.

"A potion master?" asked the inspector. "What's that?"

"I brew potions, mix ingredients like..." Snape thought about ingreadients muggles would know. "... armadilo bile and lacewing larvae and wormwood and-"

"Yes?" asked the woman? man? something. "And what does that do?"

"Well, those particular ingreadients go into contraceptive potions, but I just brought them up as an example-"

"Yes?" she/he/it said again, cutting him off. "Contraceptives, I see. Do you sell those to people?"

"Sell? Do I look like a bloody shop clerck to you?" Snape was angry now. "I'm a teacher. I teach at a school!"

"You teach children how to mix contraceptive 'potions' from armadilo bile?" asked the ispector dubiosely.

"No, I write it down on the board, then I go arind and breath at the children's necks, and watch as they blow up each other so-"

"That's all I need to know," said the inspector. "Take him away, men."

Omake by xzood

3 weeks before:

Deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts, a infamous potion master plotted how to destroy the Potter line. Finally, in a very old book, he found the solution:

Igors Igonovics Ingenious Infertility Infusion: This potion has no immediate visible effect. When the skin of the victim touches this potion, it will be absorbed immediately. It will cause the victim to be drained of all energy an fall asleep, as soon as he attempts to have sex. The effect is permanent and once applied the potion is undetectable.

It was a potion very similar to a sleeping potion in the Hogwarts curriculum. It shouldn't be too difficult to manipulate the potion. It was perfect. "This will be the end of the Potter line. In addition, he will become most unpopular with the ladies. Bwahahahahaaaaaaa."

insert 4 hours of evil laughter here

During the potions lesson, he was exited. He watched the boy preparing the final steps. In his excitement he missed, that the boy steered three times counter clock wise instead of clockwise. A simple tripping hex made the boys head land into the potion. Perfect. Soon, very soon, the Potter line will end. "Potter, you incompetent fool. Get yourself out of my classroom. 50 Points from Gryffindor"

Now in Delacour manor:

Two girls snuck into Harrys room, trying to show him, who's the best. Luckily each of the girls applied a series of silencing charms on the room.

insert some smut here

Twelve hours later, a much energized Harry Potter left his room. "Finally they are asleep. I need some food and then do some sport." Mrs. Delacur watched Harry in curiously. "Good morning Harry. I wonder why Fleur and Gabrielle aren't downstairs yet. I thought they wouldn't want you to eat alone."

Later that day Mrs. Delacur was telling her friend Lasmiranda, a full blooded Veela the story of a boy, which had worn out two quarter Veela. Neither of them did see one of Lasmirandas girls in the room. A few hours later, four full blooded vela girls started their search for Harry Potter. It didn't take long to find their pray.

insert some smut here

insert more smut here

Four days later, very happy, but very hungry and now very very much energized Harry Potter left the room. "Finally, they have all fallen asleep. Food!!"

When the four girls finally woke up, word spread among the Veela about a boy named Harry Potter. A sex god that wore out four full blooded Veela. Soon after that, nearly every Veela was looking for Harry Potter, wanting to test Harrys limits. And find him, they did.

insert some smut here

insert more smut here

insert additional smut here

A few months later, a certain Dark Lord entered the room. The smell of sex was noticealble from some streets away. On his way he passed several passed out Veela. When Harry spotted him, one swish of Harrys wand and the Dark Lord was no more. Vanquishing a Dark Lord consumed some of the energy, which continuous sex for ninety one days with countless Veela brought him. At least the Dark Lord was good for something.

And he lived happily ever after.