Chapter 40
It had been something of a tense couple of days since the attack on Diagon Alley, and the Dark Lord had been mulling over what had happened. Having instructed his most loyal followers to obtain as much information pertaining to the Serpent as possible, he'd also extracted their memories of what had unfolded when the man had arrived.
He'd relived them countless times in the past thirty-six hours, doing his utmost to get a better view of what the Serpent had done, hoping to get a look at his face.
His efforts, however, had been in vain.
Save for the glimpse of the eerie green eyes, he'd seen no other discernible feature, and the Serpent's identity remained hidden.
It was a troubling development, to say the least.
If the rumours surrounding him proved to be true, he could prove to be quite the foe, though Lord Voldemort was not troubled by the threat he posed as much as he was the form of his Patronus.
A basilisk.
Only someone with a particularly strong connection to snakes could produce such a feat of magic, and it was concerning.
If he was indeed a parselmouth, as Yaxley and Selwyn claimed, it could bring his own legitimacy as the heir of Slytherin into question.
Not that the Dark Lord doubted his position, but others might, and that couldn't be allowed.
He needed to be rid of the Serpent as quickly as possible, and as his most loyal followers entered the room, he narrowed his eyes at the expressions of concern both Yaxley and Selwyn were sporting.
"Well?" Voldemort demanded.
He was furious with the former, in particular for not informing him of the break-ins he'd experienced.
Yaxley was no coward, so the Serpent must've spooked him considerably to force his silence.
"According to my father's journal," Selwyn spoke after clearing his throat nervously, "the Serpent isn't just a myth. He wrote about him several times and the trouble Grindelwald had with him."
The Dark Lord frowned as he gestured for Selwyn to continue.
"There were many incidents where the Serpent acted against Grindelwald, including two which really stood out. On one occasion, he single-handedly thwarted an attack in Finland. He killed around forty of Grindelwald's followers and sent the man himself fleeing for his life."
"Is that an accurate account?"
Selwyn nodded as he slid a section of worn newspaper towards him.
"The article was written by a journalist who witnessed it. He says that the Serpent called upon a snake which emerged from within him and killed several of the men."
"Preposterous," Voldemort said dismissively. "No such snake exists."
"I am merely relaying what I learned, my lord," Selwyn replied. "During another incident, my father claims that the Serpent singlehandedly liberated an entire city by killing dozens of Grindelwald's followers. He didn't specify which one, but there are several articles written about it."
"My father's journal says the same," Yaxley chimed in. "The Serpent is believed to be amongst the most dangerous men on the planet, my lord. Any who experienced his wrath will attest to it. Even Grindelwald became wary of facing him."
The Dark Lord shook his head.
He was not impressed by the exaggerated feats spoken of, and he would not be cowed by the reputation of a man who had evidently been hiding for the better part of two decades.
That very observation caused a frown to crease his brow, and he scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Why did he vanish?" he mused aloud.
"No one knows," Selwyn answered. "He just did until recently. I suppose he had his reasons, but they were not made known to any."
"Then why is he back?" Voldemort snapped.
"Maybe because of you," Avery suggested. "Perhaps he believes himself to be the rightful heir of Slytherin, and since you have made yourself known to the world, he feels the need to stake his claim."
The Dark Lord's nostrils flared.
"He has no claim!"
"We know that, but there are those who will question it," Avery pointed out, echoing his own thoughts on the matter. "The question is, how do we solve the problem? If what Selwyn and Yaxley are saying is true, he could present quite the problem."
Voldemort nodded unhappily.
"We need more information," he murmured. "There is a reason he vanished, and I want to know why."
"I will see what I can do," Avery assured him. "Are we to take a brief interval from our efforts?"
"No," Voldemort decided. "We will continue, but with caution."
"As you wish," Avery replied with a nod.
With that, his followers left the room, and the Dark Lord scowled as he stared towards the fireplace.
The Serpent was not a man he'd heard mentioned in any context during his years on the continent, so how could someone so seemingly infamous no longer warrant discussing?
It was quite the mystery, but with his very best on it, Lord Voldemort expected he would get the answers he sought.
(Break)
"I don't suppose this has become any easier for you?" Harry questioned as he eyed the other Harry across the table in the living room of the house in Godric's Hollow.
The man shook his head.
"No," he sighed. "Over the years, I expected something would happen to satisfy the prophecy, but this didn't cross my mind," he added, gesturing between the two of them. "I thought I'd be released from the vow in some way."
"You're not released from it?"
"No, it is still in effect. The only way for it to end is with either my death or the deaths of those I gave it to."
"Was one of them Grindelwald?"
The other Harry winced at the question.
"I cannot say."
Harry nodded, assuming he was correct. If he weren't, there would be no reason the other man could not deny it.
"Laurent?"
Another wince.
"Broz?"
The other Harry winced again and took a deep breath.
"Just one more," Harry assured him. "Abernathy?"
The man winced once more, and Harry was satisfied that his efforts thus far had not been in vain.
"How did you come to be investigating what you are?"
"Amelia's parents were murdered not long after the war against Grindelwald," Harry explained. "There were several governments involved in ensuring it was not able to be investigated, and I decided to look into it. I didn't expect to uncover what I have, and the more I discover, the deeper I realise it runs."
The other Harry nodded.
"I can neither deny nor confirm that you are on the right track, but I would urge you to continue on the path you are set on."
"It's like you said, there's no turning back now," Harry pointed out. "I need to find the truth for Amelia."
He could not keep the sadness out of his voice, and the other Hrry noticed it.
"You spoke to her."
It wasn't a question but a statement of fact, and Harry deflated as he nodded.
"The moment I returned home," he confirmed.
"She did not take it well?"
Harry shook his head.
"She left, and I've not seen or heard from her since."
"She needs time," the other Harry comforted. "It is a lot to take in, and my Eleanor was much the same. It was almost a week later that she came to speak to me after she'd processed what she'd learned. I imagine this is a lot for Amelia. How did the two of you meet?"
Harry smiled fondly at the memory and spoke of the night in the bar which had become his restaurant.
It felt good to reflect on what now seemed to be a simpler time, though he could not deny that it was odd to do so with himself, who was some twenty years older.
The other Harry listened intently and even smiled as he learned of the many series of events that had unfolded around them.
"She sounds like a good woman."
"She is," Harry confirmed. "I don't know, I didn't intend for things to turn out the way they did between us, but before I knew it…"
"You'd fallen in love."
"Is that what this is?"
The other Harry nodded.
"When I came here, I had no understanding or concept of what that was," he admitted unashamedly. "I'd spent my life, as you had, living with the Dursleys, and then I was here. I had no experience of someone caring about me for who I was, not the way Eleanor and Professor Bellerose did."
"Professor Bellerose?"
The other Harry smiled.
"She was my Herbology teacher at Beauxbatons," he explained. "She helped me more than I can ever repay her for. She died some years ago, but if it weren't for her, I never would've been rid of the nightmares."
"The Horcrux," Harry whispered.
The other Harry nodded.
"How did you get rid of it?"
"Professor Bellerose introduced me to Perenelle Flamel," he explained. "She and Nicholas helped me and even took me in. They used a ritual of sorts to get rid of the Horcrux. Before I met them, I didn't know what it was, but I kept having these terrible, recurring nightmares about Voldemort. Professor Bellerose figured there was some kind of connection between us, and when I plucked up the courage to tell her about what had happened to me as a baby, she did all she could to help me. It was Nicholas who identified what it was and destroyed it. How did you get rid of yours?"
"Voldemort unintentionally destroyed it," Harry answered. "Dumbledore knew of it, but he never told me. I only discovered it because of a memory Snape gave me as he was dying."
"Git," the other Harry muttered.
Harry nodded his agreement.
Despite eventually doing something resembling the right thing for once in his life, there was no love lost for the man who'd made Harry's time at Hogwarts a misery at every given opportunity.
"I don't suppose you know how many Riddle made then."
The other Harry shook his head and frowned.
"No, I don't."
"There were seven," Harry answered, much to the horror of the other man. "The one in me, Riddle's diary, a locket belonging to Slytherin, a cup belonging to Hufflepuff, the Gaunt family ring, and his snake, Nagini."
"Bloody hell, he really didn't want to die, did he?"
"No, but I got him in the end," Harry sighed.
"And you plan on getting him again?"
"I didn't at first," Harry admitted, "but that has changed. I'll finish Riddle and whatever it is Grindelwald started. It seems to be the only way I'll get the answer to what happened to Amelia's parents."
The other Harry offered him a smile.
"You're willing to risk it all for her?"
"I am," Harry replied without hesitation. "You know, I should probably be quite pissed off that you walked away from everything so easily, but I get it. Even now, if it meant I could have Amelia, I'd walk away if she asked me to."
He would.
It had only been less than two days, and he missed the woman dearly.
Her absence had given him time to put into perspective just how important she had become to him.
He knew that he'd taken her for granted in many ways.
He'd arrived here alone, and it was Amelia who made this world different to the other despite the similarities. Being with her was the first time he'd never felt truly alone, and for Harry, that was priceless.
"Well, I will help you as much as I can," the other Harry vowed. "What use I will be with the vow in place, I'm not sure, but I am sure there is something I can do. The vow only extends to the point that if I am attacked, I am able to eliminate any threat against me. I am thinking that perhaps an intervention with Voldemort may be of assistance. With two of us, we can make short work of him and his followers."
"You've been out of the game for what, twenty years?" Harry pointed out.
"That doesn't mean I have been idle," the other Harry assured him. " I have been biding my time and waiting, and just because I can't help with the other problem, not yet at least, it doesn't mean Voldemort will be off limits for long. How hard will it be to goad him into attacking me?" he asked with a grin.
"Not so difficult."
"And when he does, I will be free to do whatever I wish to put an end to him."
"Why would you involve yourself?" Harry asked confusedly.
"Because this is what I have been waiting for. The prophecy has hung over me for two decades, and this is my way of seeing it fulfilled. Besides, you shouldn't get all of the fun. I see it as me helping you for helping me with the other problem. If we can solve both, then we can get on with our lives without Dark Lords or anything else to get in the way. I want to help you in any way I can. What do you say?"
He offered his hand, and Harry eyed it for a moment before accepting the proffered limb.
"Where do we begin?" he asked.
The other Harry grinned.
"Oh, I have some things that may help you," he replied. "Firstly, how is your Parselmagic?"
"It's not something I've had much time to explore."
The other Harry nodded.
"Well, if we want the world to believe you are me, then you're going to have to be like me," he said cryptically.
"Why would we want that?"
"Because then it will lure certain people out of the woodwork," the other Harry chuckled amusedly. "That will be the only way to win."
"Isn't that dangerous for you?"
"No," the other Harry said dismissively. "I have taken steps to ensure my family will be safe. All of this must be brought to an end. So, are you in?"
Harry nodded.
"I'm in," he agreed.
(Break)
"Crucio!"
She could do nothing as the spell slammed into her, sending her to her knees once more. Still, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of screaming.
After a moment, he relented, and she could hear the laughter of him and his followers echoing around, yet, she once more pushed herself to her feet.
"Crucio!"
Her vision grew hazy, and she could taste blood in her mouth as she bit down on her lip to prevent herself from crying out…
Amelia was suddenly shaken awake, and she gasped as she tried to steady her laboured breathing.
"Are you alright there, Bones?" Moody asked concernedly.
Amelia nodded and swallowed the blood in her mouth.
"I'm fine," she said dismissively.
She'd barely slept since she'd viewed Harry's memories, and whenever she did manage to close her eyes for even a moment, her brief dreams were plagued by the experiences she'd relived in the pensieve.
Seeing what Harry had endured was not only harrowing, but it broke her heart to know he'd truly lived them.
"No, you're not," Moody sighed. "What is it, lass?"
"Nothing," Amelia denied.
Alastor shot her a pointed look.
"You know, you're a terrible liar," he sighed.
Amelia shook her head and swallowed deeply.
"Have you ever thought you knew someone, and then something happens to make you question it?"
Moody frowned at the question.
"Is this about Jameson?"
Amelia nodded.
"Well, it's not my place to pry, but given what I know about him, I expect there are things he's not told you. We both know what he does, Bones."
"It doesn't have anything to do with that," Amelia explained. "It's something else."
"Did he lie to you?"
Amelia frowned at the question.
"No, he didn't lie, but he kept things from me."
Alastor nodded his understanding.
"Listen, relationships really aren't my thing," he chuckled, "but if I was you, I would question why he kept them from you. Was it done out of malice, or maybe to protect you?"
"It wasn't malicious," Amelia answered. "He wouldn't do that. He says he didn't know how to tell me, and I get that, I just feel as though he hasn't been able to trust me. After everything we've been through, that should be the least I can expect from him."
"Aye," Alastor agreed, "but is it because he doesn't trust you or because telling you would change things? Come on, Bones, any fool can see how he feels about you. When you were kidnapped, that man didn't rest until he got you back, and he made sure those that did it couldn't try again. Regardless of what he kept from you; I can't believe he would do so to upset you like this. He thinks far too much of you, and you of him. Look at you, you're a bloody mess."
"Thanks," Amelia replied dryly.
"I'm just saying it as I see it," Moody said with a comforting smile. "Men like Jameson are not easy. I saw the same with my mother and father when I was growing up. When he came back from fighting against Grindelwald, he wasn't the same, and he never spoke about what he saw or did. I never doubted that he adored my mother, but I suspect he didn't mention it to protect her. Is it possible this is the same thing?"
Amelia thought back to all she'd seen in the pensieve and nodded.
She couldn't fathom how difficult it was for him to share what he had with her.
To see him grow up the way he had; so vulnerable and helpless, to becoming the man she had met only a few years prior, Harry had truly been on a journey of self-discovery, but it had come at a tremendous cost to him.
He'd spent his entire life alone, and though he'd had friends during his time at Hogwarts, none of them had been there during those life-changing moments she'd seen him thrive in.
"It is," she murmured, "but it's not so easy to just to put it behind me."
"You never have to put things behind you," Alastor replied. "You carry them with you and decide if the burden of doing so is worth it."
Amelia frowned thoughtfully.
"When did you become so wise, Alastor?" she asked with a smile.
"I didn't, but I know you, lass, better than anyone, and I can see how much this is hurting you," he pointed out. "Is it what you learned that is hurting, or that you seem to think there might be no way back for the two of you?"
"I don't know," Amelia answered honestly.
"Then that is what you need to figure out before you make any decisions."
Amelia nodded.
She missed Harry terribly.
She didn't feel any resentment towards him for anything she'd learned. Somehow, she respected him more. He didn't seek fame or glory for the things he'd done, and having seen his life for herself, she understood him better.
Even so, it still hurt in a way she couldn't describe.
Perhaps she was disappointed, or that she didn't feel as though he'd included her in something so important.
Nonetheless, more than any of it, she missed him, and although she couldn't simply get over what she'd learned, Amelia still couldn't imagine her life without Harry in it.
It had been only a few days, and yet, it felt much longer since she'd seen him.
(Break)
With it being the summer holidays, Harry was granted much more free time to look into the things he needed to, and another trip to New York City had been on the cards.
Although he was yet to get any closer to Abernathy, he had learned some vital information about the man's assistant, and when the time was right, he would put it to use.
Before doing so, however, he needed to ensure he had enough uninterrupted time, and that was unlikely to come until Voldemort was no longer a threat.
Still, he would continue making trips across the pond for anything else of use for his impending venture there, and Harry knew it was not something he could rush.
Abernathy was one of the most dangerous men in the world, and he could not risk pursuing him without complete certainty in what he was doing.
Of course, it was a frustrating process, but Harry was not foolish enough to rush something with so much risk and importance for the sake of haste. Doing so would be an error he could ill-afford to make.
No, the problem with the men Grindelwald intended on bringing into the fold was not something that would be solved overnight. It would take months, perhaps years of work to bring the house of cards crashing down, if such a thing was possible, but Harry was determined.
"You are back!"
Harry was pulled from his thoughts by Hanna, who had entered his cabin.
"Only for a quick stop-over," he said with a smile. "How are things?"
The woman looked healthier than he'd seen her.
When they'd first met, she'd been thin, pale, and rather sickly at best.
She was still pale, but she had gained a good amount of weight and she seemed happier.
"Really well," she answered. "The farm is making more gold than I can keep count of, and we have added another five greenhouses to keep up with demand. We will probably have to add more in the next year or so."
"I saw them," Harry replied. "The place is thriving. Any more trouble with the others?"
Hanna shook her head.
"No, everyone is getting along," she assured him. "When they realised what you were trying to achieve here, they all put the work in. The herds are doing well, and the pack is as strong as ever. We are all settled now, and there's even some children here."
"I am pleased to hear it," Harry said sincerely. "You know that you can send for me anytime you need."
Hanna nodded appreciatively as she headed towards the door.
"It was nice seeing you, Harry, and thank you, for everything."
She left and Harry felt a sense of pride at what they'd collectively done.
He received monthly statements from Gringotts pertaining to how much profit the farm was making, and it was proving to be a very profitable venture for him and the werewolves that worked here.
With the free food and housing, each of them were living more than comfortably, and the enterprise was only growing with each passing month.
It was the one thing, along with the restaurant, that seemed to have gone well for him since he'd arrived.
Everything else had been challenging at best, even his teaching post.
He'd once again considered taking a leave of absence before offering Bellatrix her apprenticeship, but he knew it was not the right thing to do.
He enjoyed teaching, and he didn't want to give it up again.
Besides, with Bellatrix shouldering some of the responsibility with the younger years, it would grant him the free time he needed to carry on with his investigation, even if things had taken the strangest of turns.
Harry was still adjusting to the presence of the other Harry, but he couldn't deny the man had much to teach him, especially when it came to Parselmagic.
He'd seen Voldemort delve into the art on occasion during his younger years, but it was not something he'd given much thought to. With no literature available, or someone to tutor him, he'd not used the skill beyond communicating with snakes.
The other Harry, however, was exceedingly proficient.
"Where did you learn this stuff?"
"Nicholas gave me some books when I met him, and I invested a lot of time into it," the other Harry explained. "I have found it to be invaluable, and it scares the shit out of people during a fight. Besides, as the Serpent, I became quite infamous for it, so you will need to be too."
"Why are you determined that people think I'm you?"
"Because it will have them question the veracity of the vow," the other Harry answered. "If they think it is no longer in play, things will begin happening. They will try to cover their tracks, and to do that, they will have to step out of the shadows, at least somewhat. It will give you an opportunity to make progress. I'm not saying it will give you all you need, but it will assist you."
Harry nodded.
"Do you know anything about the murder of Amelia's parents?"
The other Harry shook his head.
"From what you have told me, it happened long after I was taken out of the game," he said apologetically, "but if these people are involved, the Bones must've done something to piss them off. They wouldn't risk murdering a prominent Lord for nothing short of exceptional circumstances."
Harry was concerned what he might uncover about Amelia's parents.
He did not want to be the one to break the news to her that they'd been involved in something nefarious, but that seemed to be increasingly likely the more he learned about the kind of people he was dealing with.
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly as he closed the ledger he'd been perusing.
Already, things between him and Amelia were not so good, and the prospect of having to inform her of something unpleasant about her parents weighed heavily on him.
With it still playing on his mind, he gathered his things before activating his portkey pleased that the farm, at least, was not causing him further problems.
Arriving back at his home, Harry paused as he caught sight of the redhead sitting at the kitchen table.
Amelia looked tired, and the smile she offered him was guarded.
She was nursing a cup of coffee in her hands, seemingly lost; just how Harry felt.
"Hello," she greeted him.
(Break)
He couldn't remember how long he'd been searching for his pack. Maybe it had only been a matter of weeks, but Fenrir remember the dozen or so transformations he'd made with each coming of the full moon since he'd been liberated.
With each change, he'd steadily been replenishing his group, and truthfully, he had no need of his old pack now.
Still, he could not ignore the principle of the deception, and he was determined to find them, even if it was only to punish them for their treachery, and then eradicate them.
Nonetheless, it was something that was easier said than done.
Even now, he'd not even heard whispers of where they were, and Fenrir was growing frustrated.
He'd been all over Europe, to South America, and even North America before circling back, and yet, hide nor hair had been seen of them.
It was when he'd snuck back into London that he caught the scent of an old foe, a man who'd been paid to track him across the continent some years prior.
Katz.
Fenrir had first made his acquaintance in Germany when the man had been paid by the Ministry to locate him.
Having done so, the pack had been attacked by scores of Aurors.
Fenrir, among many others, had managed to escape, but most had not been so lucky.
Given that they'd supported Grindelwald in the war, the German Ministry had taken it upon themselves to repair its tarnished reputation, and tey'd chosen to eliminate Fenrir.
Ultimately, they had failed, but the werewolf had never forgotten the part Katz had played in the setback he'd endured.
For months, he'd hunted the man, but Katz had been sharp enough to avoid him by moving his family around the country every few weeks or so.
Eventually, Fenrir had given up, but the chance encounter in London had given him the opportunity to exact justice for the transgression against him.
The memory brought a grin to his lips, even if he'd not caused as much pain as he'd liked to.
"You know, I'm going to enjoy this," Fenrir said gleefully, licking his lips as he peered out of the window towards the setting sun.
Katz whimpered in the chair he was bound to.
It was all the man was able to do.
He had no wand, and Fenrir had gone to the trouble of breaking his arms and legs so that he couldn't flee.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you," the werewolf promised. "I want to watch you suffer as you struggle with Lycanthropy. I want you to experience the agony of transforming every month into a monster you despise. You are not like me, Katz. I accepted what I am, and I grew to love the monster in me. Don't worry, it won't be long now."
Fenrir had been rudely awoken by the arrival of half a dozen masked figures.
Katz was in a deplorable state, and only his quick thinking had seen Fenrir able to flee using a portkey Voldemort had given him. He'd arrived somewhere in the English countryside, and despite being exhausted from the transformation, had managed to apparate away a few times, leaving his trail impossible to follow.
They had tried to follow him twice.
He'd caught sight of two people wearing black masks when he'd arrived in Liverpool, but they'd not managed to track him further.
Fenrir had idly wondered who they were and what had happened to Katz, but he dared not look too closely.
Those people reeked of danger, and as far as he was concerned, he'd achieved what he'd set out to do.
Still, it had been an odd and eerie experience and one he did not intend on reliving.
Ever since, he'd kept a low profile, leaving Britain behind and taking some time to recharge before continuing his search for his wayward pack.
He would find them, and when he did, what he did to Katz would look like nothing more than a pup playing with a toy.
(Break)
Amelia hadn't intended on coming here, but she couldn't endure another sleepless night being plagued by the nightmares of what Harry had lived through.
That was what she told herself, but beyond seeing a twelve-year-old Harry almost being killed by a basilisk, fighting for his life against Dementors, and competing in the Triwizard Tournament against his will, Amelia simply missed him.
She couldn't say she'd forgiven Harry entirely, but it broke her heart to see how lost he looked and how he didn't even seem to know what to say to her.
He stared at her sadly, and for a moment, he reminded her of the broken boy she'd watched grow into a broken man.
Through her own anguish, it had been difficult for her to remember that Harry had lost everyone he'd ever cared about or who had cared about him.
His mother, his father, his godfather, and even the snowy owl he'd come to adore.
None of them had been around when he'd needed them, and Amelia found she could not be one of them.
She cared for him too, more than she could put into words, and what had once been simply didn't matter anymore as she swallowed deeply and crossed the room, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.
No, he wouldn't be without her, no matter what had happened or what would come.
He relaxed into the embrace, and somehow, despite everything that had happened over the past few days, Amelia knew they would be okay.
"I missed you," she whispered.
Harry nodded.
"Me too."
He didn't need to say anything else.
Amelia didn't want an apology or an explanation, she just needed to hear that he'd missed her.
Coming from Harry, she knew that meant more than anything else he could say to her, and for Amelia, that was enough.
"We still have things to talk about," he sighed.
"We do, but not yet," Amelia murmured. "None of it matters right now."
"But…"
"But nothing," Amelia cut him off gently as she extracted herself. "Whatever happens, we deal with it together. Agreed?"
He eyed her for a moment, but Harry knew her well enough to know when she wouldn't be persuaded otherwise. He'd learned to pick his battles with her, and much to her amusement, he shook his head as he took her hand.
"Agreed."
"Good. Now, where do we start? Voldemort?"
"That's what I planned on doing," Harry replied.
"Then let's not waste any more time. We have to find those Horcruxes. The cave first?"
"It's as good a place as any."
Amelia nodded.
"Let's go."
His grip tightened around her hand, and Amelia paused before turning to look at him questioningly.
"You know you mean the world to me, don't you?"
"I know," Amelia replied, "but if you ever keep anything from me again, I will lock you in a cell in Azkaban and find the most annoying person to be in the one next to you. You might be Harry Jameson or Harry Potter, but I am Amelia Bones. Don't forget that."
She placed a searing kiss on his lips before leading the dumbstruck Harry towards the fireplace and throwing a handful of floo powder into the flames.
"You're grinning, aren't you?" Amelia sighed.
"Would I do that?"
She could hear the smile in his tone, but instead of irritating her, it caused one of her own to crest her lips.
Amelia preferred to see him smile.
Somehow, when he smiled, it made her believe that everything really would be okay.
(Break)
"I do not know how you found me, but you better have a damned good explanation for doing so, or I will castrate you where you stand."
Corbin Yaxley shuddered at the thought and did not doubt the veracity of the threat.
"My father wrote of you in his journal," he hurriedly explained as a wand was pointed towards him. "He mentioned he'd been here a few times. I thought it was worth checking to see if you were still around."
"I remember your father. He was a damned fool and a braggart. I expect you are no different. What do you want?"
"To ask you about a man who has recently resurfaced. What do you know of the Serpent?"
Silence followed the question, and Corbin truly began to fear that he would be cursed.
The wand pointed at him, however, was lowered, and the person he'd been looking for leaned forward with their eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Did you say, the Serpent?"
Yaxley nodded.
"He is back?"
"He is."
"Impossible. The Serpent has been gone for more than two decades."
"He is back," Corbin reiterated firmly, offering a photo he'd taken from his own memory. "He was in London recently and certainly wasn't hiding."
The woman's nostrils flared at the sight of the shadowy figure, and she bared her teeth threateningly.
"Oh, we will see about that," she declared. "There is not much I can tell you about him, but I can take you to the man who can."
"Who?"
The woman smiled fondly as she stood.
"Gellert."
Corbin frowned confusedly.
"Gellert? As in Grindelwald?"
The woman nodded.
"You didn't really think the coward killed him, did you? Such a naïve fool," she said derisively. "Come along before I change my mind. Just because Gellert cannot deal with the Serpent doesn't mean I won't."
This was an unexpected development, and Corbin shook his head as he followed in the wake of the woman.
Perhaps tracking down Cassiopeia Black had not been the best idea.