CHAPTER 14

21 August 1993 - Le Sanctuaire - Viviers - Ardèche, 2:33PM

Panicked squawks and the frenzied rustling of wee little feathers was all that could be heard as a small flock of citril finches flew off in a panic, barely avoiding the trio of Stinging Hexes hurled their way.

"Ah…that's much better."

Narcissa Black loathed to have her sunbathing sessions interrupted, especially by something as insipid as birdsong!

Sighing contentedly at the silence, the witch delicately sipped at her glass of Vouvray Moelleux Goutte d'Or, savoring in its delightful flavors of mineralized caramel, honey, and quince. Though it was of the 'cheap Muggle swill' variety that Narcissa tended to loathe out of principle, it was still French, and thus good enough to be enjoyed on a lazy late summer afternoon.

She truly deserved this holiday.

The recent months had been exhausting as a newly minted divorcée, and Narcissa was still getting settled into singledom.

One of the ex-Lady Malfoy's respites was knowing that over three-quarters of her loathsome ex-husband's wealth lay in her personal Gringotts Account. Her property portfolio had grown quite handsomely, and she was eagerly looking forward to spending her winter holidays at Le Nid Malfoy in Gstaad.

'Hm…I reckon it needs a new name.' Narcissa snorted in spite of herself, finishing her glass and pouring herself another, emptying the bottle.

The soft POP of apparition sounded, presenting a bright-eyed house elf in a crisp white toga. She expertly snapped the empty bottle away before replacing it with a new one - perfectly chilled.

"Thank you, Gena."

"Always, Mistress." The she-elf bowed reverently before quietly disappearing.

A gift from her mother Druella, the being was a replacement for Mowgli. Thoughts of the useless creature caused the witch to snarl as she barely resisted the urge to hurl her wine glass in rage.

"Three times! Three times I gave that wretch to finish a simple job, and he got himself killed!"

At least Narcissa hoped the filthy little bugger was dead - for his own sake. She'd attempted to summon him several times that fateful day she'd sent to kill that filthy halfblood Slytherin Potter.

As with these things, that failure had occurred merely a week after she'd finally divorced Lucius. The divorce was a given; the blonde bastard had done everything in his power to corrupt the relationship with her son with all of his 'Heir-training' nonsense! Draco's Occlumency lessons had done a bloody fantastic job chipping away at her obedience influence - a side effect of her stolen Veela allure that was to ensure her son's complete dedication to her.

It had worked for a considerable time too; Draco had been her precious baby boy. He'd treated her word as gospel, taking all of her 'suggestions' as commands to never be disobeyed. She'd groomed her little pureblood prince to rule the Slytherin roost, and, when the time was right, kill Lord Malfoy.

'It was all so perfect!' If everything had gone according to her plans, Lucius would have met his well-deserved end in Draco's Fifth Year. She would have become Regent Malfoy, and, with the right amount of scheming, secured the Black Heirship for Draco. The Slytherin Potter would have been soundly dead (if the Mowgli vermin had succeeded), leaving an emotionally damaged Sirius who would be all too easy to eliminate in a drunken broom accident.

It wouldn't be the first time the current Lord Black had flown around drunk. 'Idiot swine.'

But somehow, Lucius had gathered the gumption to pull rank on her in his stead as the Malfoy Lord, stealing her precious Draco away.

Then, the boy had done the unthinkable - chosen his wretched sire over her!

Narcissa could still remember the ungrateful brat's face in perfect detail on that fateful day - icy gray eyes - his father's eyes - blown wide in shock when Narcissa had told him in no uncertain terms that his foolish choice meant he was no longer any son of hers.

"I would have burned the world for that filthy brat! Brought the Dark Lord to his very knees if it meant securing that boy's greatness! And this…this is how he repays me!" The blonde viciously scowled as she downed her wine, before pouring another generous glass.

As with these things, Narcissa couldn't allow such an egregious insult against her person to stand.

Lord Malfoy and his Heir would pay.

Dearly.

Ruminating on particularly violent scenarios of the Malfoys' would-be demise, the blonde lightly jumped when Gena once more reappeared.

"Ehm…there's a Mr. Prewett on the Floo for you. Requesting entry?"

Narcissa perked up. "Let him in. Have him come up here, and bring some more wine and glasses. Something to nibble on as well."

"Right away Mistress!" A veritable feast of Narcissa's favorite hors d'oeuvres appeared, along with a chilled ice bucket with three additional bottles of Vouvray.

A few minutes later, a chicly outfitted Obediah Prewett sauntered onto the balcony with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a massive bouquet in another. Narcissa tittered in girlish delight upon recognizing all of her favorite flowers!

Bright-red flame lilies.

Violet-hued Delphiniums and monkshood.

Pale-pink oleanders.

Black belladonnas.

And finally, a large cluster of cream-colored hellebores.

"Cissy dear, you look absolutely ravishing!" Setting aside his gifts, Obediah leaned forward to pepper kisses on Narcissa's extended hand, causing the witch to giggle flirtatiously. As always, he felt her stolen allure brush teasingly against his shields, like a crooked finger coquettishly scratching his chin.

With practiced ease, he snuffed out the flicker of contempt in response to her actions.

"Obediah darling, you flatter me." She pulled him downward for a more brazen kiss, running a hand through his slicked-back locks. Narcissa practically pushed him into the neighboring chaise, using her wand to pull it close to hers.

Laughing boisterously, Obediah uncorked the champagne and poured them each a copious glass. "So mon cherie…how goes singlehood?"

Narcissa pouted babyishly. "As well as can be expected. I no longer have to be bothered with being a faithful wife, caring mother, and all that other rubbish." Obediah just smiled, internally noting that the witch hadn't been any of those things when she had been married. "The best thing was nearly emptying Lucius' vault - that brought me much satisfaction." Azure blue eyes flashed in savage satisfaction, causing Obediah to snicker in spite of himself.

News of Lucius' misfortune had made its rounds in the pureblood gossip circles, with quite a few secretly pleased at the decline of the great Pureblood house. One such faction was Tiberius Nott, who, with no small amount of subtlety, was scheming to steal Lucius' Vassals away. Dwindled wealth signaled Malfoy's inability to pay Wizengamot dues - a hefty sum of 250,000 galleons a year.

"Excellent news indeed Cissy." The Potter Seneschal delicately sipped his drink. "I've also heard that you've…more or less…cut ties with Draco…" He leveled a benignly curious look in her direction, taking note of the way her expression tightened and soured furiously.

"That ungrateful brat and I have nothing to do with each other. Ever again. Let him mewl at his father's teat, see how far that gets him." Narcissa sneered viciously, causing Obediah to snicker.

While the witch had never been of the the soft, gentle, and overly maternal sort, she had showered her son with copious attention and catered to every whim, very much appearing to be the doting mother.

Refilling his glass, Obediah deftly switched the conversation to more mundane topics, mainly surrounding the Death Eater Menace and impending Dementor Apocalypse. Elegant sweeps of his larch wand cast multiple privacy wards to ensure nothing discussed would be overheard.

"Do you really believe Potter and Yaxley had anything to do with the breakout?"

Prewett snorted. "No. Potter's a goody two shoes lawman who would never dream of doing something so ridiculous, even whilst Imperiused. The idiot was drunk and roaming around his manor, so he definitely was not involved. Though his alibi is still very shaky, he's finally been cleared to assist Director Bones with her investigation, but strictly on an administrative basis. Shacklebolt is Chief Auror now, so it'll be the perfect opportunity to babysit James so he doesn't do anything too stupid. He's as sharp as Scrimgeour, so James will have be on his toes." The Potter Seneschal couldn't help but sneer on reflex.

"And Yaxley?" pressed Narcissa.

"Honestly…I don't believe so either. My source in the Floo Network Authority in the Department of Magical Transportation confirmed that Corban was in Paris, doing Merlin-knew-what with his coterie of chosen strumpets. Anyway, he's back in the Department, but he's on desk duty indefinitely. Alleged Death Eater involvement may have something to do with that, Bones has never fully trusted him." Obediah snorted.

"True enough…which begs the question as to whom exactly freed those five from Azkaban."

Prewett looked thoughtful. "I've given it some thought. Given the…events of the past two years involving the Potter Twins, our Lord…is preparing to make an entrance." The ex Lady Malfoy fidgeted imperceptibly. "You and I both know that vanquished does not equal dead, and while he was never completely forthcoming with every single detail…our Lord took the necessary steps to ensure the...totality of his return."

Narcissa's eyes widened. "You think?-"

"No…not yet. But, the Azkaban breakout is definitely a sign of things to come. Wonderful, terrible things to come."

Reflexively, both ran a hand over their hearts, right over the seemingly unmarked flesh branded with their Dark Marks.

Matching shudders escaped their bodies at the gentle prickling sensation elicited at that action.

"Are we to initiate…the First Set of Contingencies?" Though each commanded their own Death Eater cell, both were used to collaborating with each other on 'special projects', as all members of the Inner Circle were. The Contingencies, as they were, were a series of seemingly innocuous plans the Inner Circle could set in motion to sow the intended amount of discord to…set the stage for their Lord's return. Each Inner Circle member had their role to play, though - depending on the Contingency - not all needed to play it at the same time.

"Potentially. Though it seems the Third Set of Contingencies were initiated with the Azkaban Breakout. None have made any contact…at least, not with me." He turned to the witch, who pouted whilst nibbling on a canape.

"No contact on my end either. Not even Bella, and we're supposed to be sisters." She frowned.

"Hm…interesting. Well, I imagine they'll make contact soon enough. I presume they're in one of the safe houses, fitting since we have no means of tracking them until they initiate contact. Still… it doesn't mean you and I can't have a little fun." He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily, causing Narcissa to titter delightedly.

"Indeed mon chéri…and I have a few…ideas to initiate the Steps One - Three of the First Set. But, first things first." Narcissa set her glass aside and with a dramatic flourish of her 12 inch rosewood wand (which had seemingly appeared in her hand), stripped her body bare.

Quirking a brow, Obediah mimicked her actions before smirking lasciviously.

"Allons-y!"

23 August 1993 - Law Offices of Libra Gaunt Esq. - Hogsmeade, 8:07AM

With as much subtlety as humanly possible, Percy quickly adjusted his favorite necktie - an Acromantula silk creation in soft shades of maroon and gold with small roaring lion motifs.

It was of the second-hand variety (much like everything he owned), but it had been paid for with his own funds earned from summers stocking shelves and ringing up sales in Flourish and Blotts. Nonetheless, it was elegant and well-made, perfectly suited for the situation at hand.

He, the Twins, and his mother were currently seated in front of Lady Gaunt in her vast office located in the more 'posh' side of Hogsmeade. Referred to his parents by Lord Gaunt, the solicitor specialized in wizarding patent law as it pertained to proprietary family magic and inventions. The bulk of her clients were spread across France and her native Libya, and she was working to build out her English clientele. At the current moment, she and Lord Gaunt were working to establish pro-bono services for underprivileged but enterprising magicals who were seeking the means to patent their creations.

Hence the reason for today's meeting.

POP!

A house-elf appeared levitating a most impressive tea set, dressed in a shimmering dark green toga secured with a silver ouroboros clasp and matching shoulder pin.

"Thank you Mab!"

The elf curtseyed elegantly before softly popping away.

"Please, help yourselves." Libra gestured towards the set as she poured herself a generous cup of chamomile tea. With some nervousness, the Weasleys all prepared themselves a small cup with a pastry, recognizing the butter and lemon tea biscuits as a Molly Weasley special.

Percy oddly grew more at ease.

"Well," said Libra after some moments, "thank you all so much for meeting with me today. Before we proceed; will your husband be joining us today Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly shook her head. "No, I'm afraid. Ever since the Death Eater breakout, he's been rather busy at the Ministry. Never know when the Toymaker's…items may pop up now that You-Know-Who's followers have escaped." A wave of discomfort flooded the room.

"Understandable," replied Libra magnanimously. Setting her teacup aside, the witch fished out her reading glasses, a gleaming bronze pair with frames fashioned into a scale. "As you already know, I invited you here today with a proposal pertaining to your lessons with Gilderoy Lockhart - whom we all now know was a Death Eater in disguise."

Fred and George winced, the latter more noticeably than the former.

"What I wanted to discuss with you four involves Messrs Fred, George, and Percy's contributions to Lockhart's research groups. As I understand, Fred and Percy each contributed a modified Polyjuice Potion formula as part of your project finals. While modified Polyjuice hasn't been suggested as a possibility in the Azkaban breakout, it is an option that the DMLE is considering may have aided the escapees and their accomplices."

Percy faintly registered Fred's quiet choke. The former placed a firm yet comforting hand on the latter, surprising both when Fred calmed a touch.

"The only reason you have yet to see it in the Prophet is that neither the DMLE nor the Ministry wish to incite a panic with its readers. However…it is a very real possibility that it may be released in the papers as the investigation advances."

"What?!" exclaimed a horrified Molly. "Surely they wouldn't blame the boys for that?! Merlin's sake, Lockhart admitted to putting George under the Imperius all while in league with You-Know-Who! The boys were students following the Professor's instructions!"

Libra calmly nodded. "You are absolutely correct in that regard. However, the press certainly won't view it in the same way." The witch scowled in visible disdain. "I'm certain you've all been keeping abreast with Rita Skeeter's rather…highly dramatized reporting on the 'The Death Eater Menace' and its effect on the 'sanctity of our sacred society.' That, coupled with her notorious history of heavy-handed yellow journalism. Should you end up in Skeeter's headline-making crosshairs…"

Molly actually snarled at that, hazel eyes flashing. The Twins and Libra looked startled at her reaction, but Percy did not.

Though she did a good job of hiding it, Molly absolutely despised Rita Skeeter's brand of reporting.

The Weasley matriarch had been utterly appalled at Skeeter's open propaganda during the last Blood War, allowing herself to be used as a tool to spread Pureblood supremacist propaganda. Molly could still remember Skeeter's unrelenting post-exile campaign against that poor McAvity, which the older witch strongly believed was the driving force behind his refusal to return to England and the persisting belief of him being a Dark Lord. Rita's campaign against a Seventh Year Lily Evans (when she and James had officially become engaged) had been absolutely unrelenting, further cementing Molly's disdain of the so-called journalist, despite the muggleborn's Slytherin Sorting..

"Would she truly dare?" hissed Molly. Her children's eyes widened.

Libra cleared her throat. "Knowing Rita Skeeter, she very well would and might be preparing to do so. I've attempted to schedule a preemptive meeting of sorts, but her assistant Marguerite Scarabee keeps avoiding my outreach - something about Skeeter quote 'only taking comments regarding written articles' end-quote. It's quite maddening."

The solicitor swished and flicked her wand - 10 ¾ poplar and dragon heartstring - levitating a rather thick stack of parchment over to her would-be clients.

"Now, before we proceed: are any of you familiar with the Family Magic Clause?"

Percy perked up significantly. "Yes. It's an ancient magical law, established in the 8th century in the peacetime era following the invasion of the original seventeen Roman families that invaded the British Isles. At that point, the families had moved on from petty wars and interbreeding with each other and established the Wizards' Council, the de facto magical government of the British Isles that ruled until the Norman Conquest of the 11th century. Said law was one of the few that persisted after William's successful invasion of Britain, which, as we all know, brought another twenty-nine Norman, Breton, and French wizarding families that relocated to the new kingdom. As with these things, the families warred for centuries before the Wizengamot was finally established, thanks to a Malfoy of all things."

Percy hadn't realized he was excitedly rambling, as he was apt to do in these contexts.

"Anywho, the Family Magic Clause is a confidentiality provision meant to provide a wizarding family absolute freedom of inquiry pertaining to any branch of magic - be it a spell, potion, ritual, etc. - that is 'singularly ubiquitous' to a wizarding family. Because the law is so old, its protection is extended to Wizengamot families that comprise the Sacred 28, with the occasional exception granted for non-sacred 28'ers, so long as they are…well…generationally pureblood. It even covers redacted spells (he whispered this portion), which, based on the name, are no longer in use and or stricken from the record. Anywho, the law is nigh unchallengeable, and can be invoked to prevent the Ministry, DMLE, or any similarly interested party from prying its nose where it's not wanted. Once a family evokes it, it's considered exceptionally rude at best to further inquire, if not outright illegal. In fact, Neander Lord Wilkes sued the DMLE in March of 1836 in a landmark case citing the DMLE's violation of the Family Magic Clause. Records show that it set a precedent regarding muggle-baiting and…um…"

Percy coughed at the incredulous expressions levied his way, blushing as he sipped at his still warm tea.

"Forgive my forwardness Percy but…have you ever considered pursuing a Law or History of Magic Mastery? Your knowledge is beyond encyclopedic!"

The boy blushed in response. "I've considered it."

Truth be told, he'd dedicated a lot of thought to the prospect of acquiring a Mastery or two (or three).

While he treasured knowledge simply for it being worthwhile, his admitted obsession with getting the Weasleys reinstated as a Noble House meant he also valued knowledge for its…strategic advantage in helping accomplish his goal. A Law or History of Magic Mastery (even both!) was the most logical choice; however, the Weasleys very limited finances meant that neither would be possible. The only feasible option he had was to pursue a bureaucrat's career and work his way up the ladder to his future.

But given his family's acceptance of Lord Gaunt's charity support for Ron…

"Regardless, Percy here is absolutely correct. Since the recipes for the modified Polyjuice were unique creations of Messrs Percy and Fred, we can retroactively apply the Family Law Clause, and file for unique patents for your Polyjuice creations!"

"But no one holds the patent for Polyjuice, it's a Class 1 Protected Product in line with the Ministry and Wizengamot bylaws regarding Free Use for Academic and Commercial Purposes."

Percy once more blushed at the impressed looks leveled his way. He faintly registered the Twins' amazed "Blimey!" and blushed some more.

"Polyjuice Potion is, yes. But, Modified Polyjuice Potion with distinct recipe differentiation resulting in the effect of duration - be it longer or shorter - can be patented. Professor Snape, in fact, holds a unique Polyjuice patent for his recipe that earned him the prestigious Potions Weekly Young Innovator Award. In this context, the Family Magic Clause can be retroactively applied to your creations. It will prevent the DMLE from prying into the specificities without risking a major lawsuit." Lady Gaunt's eyes flashed. "That, and we can sue Rita Skeeter to high hell should she even think about publishing anything referencing 'Polyjuice' and 'Weasley'.

The assembled Weasleys looked over the documents with brighter eyes.

"Do we have to make a decision today?" asked George quietly.

"Not at all. Please, take your time to review as needed. I'm certain Mr. Weasley would like some input. So long as a decision is reached before the start of the upcoming Hogwarts term. If you agree, it will give me ample time to file a confidential amendment with the Office of Administrative Services and receive the necessary approval."

As the boys chatted amongst themselves regarding these developments, Molly gathered a small tray of lemon biscuits and ushed Libra over to her massive bay window to have a more private conversation.

"So…when are you due?"

Libra sputtered into her tea as Molly chortled.

"Worry not dear, I can recognize that glow from anywhere. I've carried and birthed seven children - a mother witch knows these things." The two women giggled conspiratorially.

Lady Gaunt had been shocked when her Healer had confirmed her pregnancy - she'd believed it to be an impossibility, but it seemed the very rare and very illegal Elixir of Heqet potion had, in fact, worked as intended.

She just hoped that the child would be a male Heir.

"Thank you again for the delicious baked goods you gifted Tom and I. They're wonderful for all the cravings, I've practically torn through the fudge."

"Oh it's the least I could do dear. It'll never be enough to repay your husband for everything he did for Ron…for my family…but I am more than happy to do it. I've always loved cooking and baking."

Libra was curious. "Are they all your own recipes?"

"More or less - most of those recipes are generational Prewett family specials."

A lightbulb went off over Lady Gaunt's head. 'Eureka!'

"Say Molly…have you ever thought of selling any of the goods you've baked before?"

Theo's Room - The Evans Keep, 7:02PM

"Ugh, finally."

Setting aside his quill, Theo No-Name rubbed soothing circles into head. He'd spent the better half of the day completing the reading and preliminary essay for his upcoming Ancient Runes class, and quite frankly, he was exhausted.

The large bay window facing the west showed a still-setting sun, basking the room in a deep red-orange glow. The room itself was as spacious as it was cozy, painted in warm shades of forest and fern greens offset by cream white. A plush oak-framed bed dominated the room, paired with a beautifully-hewn oak desk and matching chair bearing small snake motifs. A walk-in closet was well-filled with wizarding robes and muggle attire in equal measure, the latter of which had been purchased for Theo during a most memorable trip to muggle London. A large en-suite bathroom was included for maximum privacy, always well-stocked thanks to the ever-attentive Mia.

To Theo's relief, living full-time with Harry was no different than when they were at Hogwarts. The younger Potter made an excellent housemate, unsurprisingly easygoing regarding his space and privacy than when in 'Slytherin-mode' at Hogwarts.

The real surprise, in fact, had been Lily Evans.

In addition to housing Theo into her and Harry's home, she'd done quite the job in making him feel…well…welcome. To the ex-Nott's shock, he'd been treated with the same gentle care the witch treated Harry! She was highly attentive to his needs, but never to the point of being overly intrusive. Though she openly hovered over Harry - much to his friend's amusement and delight - Lily gave Theo the space that he needed, a mere knock away should he desire advice or company.

Despite her dry and occasionally acerbic sense of humor, The ex-Lady Potter was a very engaging conversationalist, practically bursting at the seams with a plethora of uncommon and nigh arcane academic knowledge she was eager to share. Theo had shadowed her a few times in her research lab whilst she conducted all manner of Potions experiments, explaining her processes much like Professor Snape did. The trio spent a considerable amount of time in the Evans' library, chatting freely without the worry of Madam Pince looming over their shoulders.

Lily had been a constant and reassuring presence, a much-needed and welcome source of comfort amidst the disaster of his current station as an Outcast.

To Theo's shock, he realized that having Lily in his life was very much like having a mother.

Hence the reason for his current internal conflict.

Reaching for his locket, he flicked it open to reveal the smiling visage of his mother. Her expression rapidly changed upon realizing that her son wasn't in a happy mood.

"Darling," said Christina in her warm rasp. "What's the matter?"

Theo merely sighed. "Dunno…having some…conflicting feelings regarding the current state of things?" At her chiding, Theo divulged everything to her.

"So…what do you think? Are…are you upset?" He braced himself for his mother's reaction, fearing her anger at allowing another witch to replace her.

To his shock, she burst into laughter!

"What's so funny?!" he asked indignantly.

"Oh darling," her laugh died down into giggles. "I could never be upset with you! Why on earth would you ever think such a thing?!"

"Because you're not here anymore mum! And…" Theo fidgeted uncomfortably. "Ms. Evans has been really kind to me, and it's the first time in a long time I've felt this comfortable, and…and…I-don't-want-you-think-I'm-replacing-you!" He said the last bit in a rush, causing Christina's eyes to goggle in surprise.

"My love," Christina said after a few moments, voice as gentle as silk. "I am happy that you have Lily Evans in your life. I haven't been there to be a mum for you (her expression wrinkled guiltily), and I am grateful that the Fates saw to having someone as kind and generous as Lily Evans in your life. After everything your father-"

"Ex-father." Christina blinked at his brusque tone.

"After everything Tiberius put you through…everything I couldn't protect you from…" The witch's expression became guilty, turning her head away as she sniffled.

"Oh mum…you know I never blamed you for any of that! Tiberius is psychotic, he's the reason you're no longer here!" Christina didn't look convinced. "Look at me mum…please." Sad hazel eyes turned to him. "It was never your fault. Ever. Tiberius and Tiberius alone is to blame. For everything. I'll never love you less for something that was completely out of your control."

His mother didn't speak for a few moments, allowing a million unspoken words to gather between them.

Though she was no more than a painted shade of the real Christina Fenwick's memories, the magic of the Homunculus Charm used to create her likeness included the capacity for to emote and feel as the subject would in real life.

The former Lady Nott felt plenty.

Pain, at Tiberius forcing her to watch him punish Theo for some invented slight.

Pain, at having to helplessly watching Alex and Pike covertly heal the boy, but not so obviously as to further incite their father's fury.

Pain, at having to live through those wretched moments almost six torturous years.

And overall, gut-wrenching guilt at being absolutely powerless to stop the monster her greedy parents had forced her to marry.

"...T-Thank you my darling," Christina whispered after a few moments. "And know that you weren't to blame for anything Tiberius did either. None of it all." A few beats passed before Theo nodded in acquiescence.

Mother and son sat in comfortable silence for a while, before the sound of knocking broke the reverie.

"Come in!"

It was Harry, his expression perfectly blank.

Something was very wrong.

"Harry…what's wrong mate?"

His friend plopped down on his bed, expression melting from blankness to… keenly disturbed.

Something was very very wrong.

"Seriously mate, you're scaring me. What in Merlin's saggy y-fronts is going on?"

Harry sighed. "I just had the most worrisome Floo call with Miranda Bonnevie." Theo's brows shot up. "She's currently wrapping up a family holiday in Montenegro, and she had to call in a favor with one of her cousins to have access to a Floo that the Selwyns wouldn't be able to track."

Theo's eyes widened in disbelief. "Bloody hell!"

"Indeed."

"So…what on earth did she tell you that has you so upset?!"

With a tired sigh Harry shared all the intel Bonnevie had been able to provide regarding the next crop of Slytherins who would darken their doorstep.

"Well," said Theo after a few tensely quiet moments. "You reckon it's too late to get Cassius Warrington back?"

Harry flopped back onto the bed, groaning all the way.

Later that Night…

Buzz-buzz-buzz.

The witchling snapped to attention at the sound of her talking parchment, quickly making her way over to read the latest message.

Cher Ami: "So…can we agree on a final strategy for the Express?"

Lady Witherington: "...Yes. We stay close to the Potters, make sure they are within relative range of the other. If…if history repeats itself, we don't want them apart from one another. It'll be much easier to corral them in order to defend them from the Dementors."

Cher Ami: "Do you have confirmation of Auror presence?"

Lady Witherington: "I can confirm that there will be a small squad on board in plain clothes, none of whom will be James Potter, thank Circe. If the Death Eaters manage to come on board, we should have competent backup. Hopefully." She could practically hear her co-conspirator wince through the parchment.

Cher Ami: "Good. The emergency Portkey?"

Lady Witherington: "I have it, and an extra. Both are untraceable and undetectable, our last-minute 'we need to get the bloody hell out of here!' resort if you will. I'll pass you yours whilst we're on the Platform. Simple sleight-of-hand."

Cher Ami: "Hm…I see you're still a fan of Hocus Pocus." The words took on a particularly teasing lilt.

Lady Witherington: "Always. Saved our lives plenty of times."

A pregnant pause filled the metaphysical space between the two conspirators.

Cher Ami: "...You reckon…you reckon we've done enough to change the timeline?"

Lady Witherington: "...I don't know…I really don't know. I mean, the Breakout happened almost two whole months earlier than last time. Not only that, Lord Yaxley managed to get himself involved. You and I both know what he's capable of."

Both witches shuddered.

"But we have changed something. Zabini still lives, and he's always seemed loyal to Harry. The Montessis shouldn't pledge fealty to the Dark Lord this time around. If push comes to shove, he can ferry Harry and his mum away to Italy. I guess Jim can come too."

Cher Ami: "Is there anything to be done about Prewett?" If she could, the witch would've spat at the mention of that traitorous scum.

Lady Witherington: "Nothing that I can think of, and believe me, I've thought plenty of it. Can't go through the Wizengamot - any attempt at Formal Censure would require a very long and tedious process, and quite frankly, there's no proof to be found to get that sonofabitch removed. Same reason I couldn't send Bones an anonymous letter to tip her off. Hopefully, we have enough time to think of something."

Cher Ami: "...Perhaps… a very convenient accident?"

Lady Witherington: "Please…don't tempt me."

The two witches conversed about a plethora of other topics, before finally bidding each other goodbye.

Tapping the parchment thrice, Lady Witherington watched the text disappear as the parchment reset itself. As always, she cast the detection charm to see if the erased messages could be magically recalled.

To her satisfaction, they could not.

Sighing, Lady Witherington moved from her desk to sit cross-legged in the center of her spacious bedroom suite. Breathing deeply, she quickly went through her decompression meditation, allowing Monsignor Lucardi's whispered voice to guide her exercises.

Slowly, she opened her Lockbox - her impregnable psychic vault containing all of the horrid memories of the Past. It was nestled deeply within her true memory palace, inaccessible without her self-initiating a series of unique mental passwords.

The witch braced herself - this was the first time she was viewing the memories since being hurtled back in time.

They came in a despairing deluge.

The Azkaban Breakout…the first domino that set all the gruesome madness in motion.

The Potter Twins and their father getting Kissed…Lily Evans' grief-stricken screams for her sons echoed in her mind.

The Wizengamot Accords…Lords Black, Malfoy, and Prince being forced to flee Wizarding Britain as the Selwyn Sect - bolstered by the Potter-Nott-Brown-Greengrass super alliance - saw them levied with trumped up charges of High Treason. As for Lord Gaunt and his Lady…a shudder ran through the witch unbidden.

The Muggleborn Reappropriation Act…She choked as images of the 'sequestered' muggleborns flashed in her eye, forcibly trapped in what Minister Merihem Selwyn called 'rehabilitation camps'. What they'd done to Justin Finch-Fletchley…Anthony Goldstein… Sue Li's family…the Creevey brothers…"Tracey…" she choked on her tears.

The Dementor Guard…the Kissed visages of Professors McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick rushed forth, coupled with those of almost a sixth of Hogwarts' student body. There was no Dumbledore to save them.

The High Inquisitor Squad…Giles and Albert Yaxley's reign of terror had left its mark.

The Playroom…

Before she realized she was bawling - great chest-rattling cries of endless despair.

All of the crippling pain, fear, and horror she'd kept bottled inside burst free like a dam, causing her sobs to ratchet in volume.

Soon, her bawling wound down to hiccups, then, pitiful sniffles. The witchling was belatedly relieved that she'd warded and Silenced her room to ensure no interruptions. She wouldn't be able to explain to her family why she was wailing like a madwoman.

Calming herself down, the witch methodically packed up her memories and re-secured her Lockbox, returning it to the darkest sanctum of her memory palace. She cleaned herself up before tucking herself into bed, hoping she could keep insomnia at bay.

Now was simply not the time.

AN 1: So long as Obediah and Cissy are in a private room together, 50-50 'fun adult times' will ensue. All of the flowers Prewett brought her are poisonous - make of that what you will. As previously mentioned, Narcissa Black is played by Alison Doody (Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) and Obediah Prewett is played by Nicholas Hoult (a blend of Catherine the Great and Tolkien). We'll see Mr. Arachne and Miss Direction properly team up soon enough.

AN 2: Lady Witherington is a reference to Cecile Pearl Witherington Cornioley (CBE), an agent in France for the UK's clandestine Special Operations Executive (SOE) during the Second World War. Her main tasks were espionage, sabotage, and reconnaissance in occupied Europe against the Axis powers. Cher Ami is a reference to the homing pigeon of the same name, used by the U.S. Army Signal Corps in France during World War I. The bird was famous for delivering a message from an encircled battalion despite serious injuries during the Meuse-Argonne offensive in October 1918. The code names of our two Time Travelers lend a bit of insight into who they are, which will be much more apparent when the story advances.

AN 3: The Family Magic Clause is pulled from fanon; I've read many a fic referencing a unique overpowered spell Harry or his allies can do being a consequence of unique family magic. In AD, it's an actual law on the books that can be used in specific circumstances, most of which Percy and Libra covered.

AN 4: Cher Ami's quip regarding 'Hocus Pocus' is a reference to Hocus Pocus: Or The Whole Art Of Legerdemain, one of the oldest magic books to ever be published in England, in 1722 I believe.