Author's Note: I know, it's been forever and many of you were wondering where I was going with this idea. Well, you'll know after you've read. Don't through rotten tomatoes please, no telling if it will work. I am back to writing daily, which means stories should pick up more frequently here. Thanks for reading and revieiwng, MNF
Chapter 11:
The Third Front
James opened a little used Potter London town home in the fashionable neighbourhood of Notting Hill three days after Christmas. James and Sirius had invited every pureblood and half-blood family member between the ages of eighteen and thirty – both sides of the conflict – to come and hear them out. Their names carried weight, even if the individuals themselves disagreed with Potter or Black.
"Why don't you use this house?" Sirius asked James as they walked around the ground floor. The library furniture was still covered with sheets, but it was obvious to see that there were thousands of books on the shelves.
"Mum never liked the city," James replied. "Dad wanted to be as far away from the Wizengamot offices as possible when it wasn't in session. They liked the manor better, and it certainly was a better place to raise children. The garden here is the size of a postage stamp."
"That's true, no pool here," Sirius said, thinking back to his wife and the bikinis of her youth.
"There's more to life than a pool, Sirius," James admonished, and then stumbled over his own feet. "Damn it."
"Leg still bothering you?"
"Don't tell your wife or she'll put me in bed or make me walk with a cane or some other such nonsense."
"Anwen wants you healed, and you continue to refuse to let your body finish doing it," Sirius said. "Come on, let's go sit down. Frank and Alice will be here soon, as will Kingsley and Amelia. We can partake of some of the Firewhisky my grandfather sent along."
"It's the good stuff, right?" Arcturus had pranked James and Sirius when they were fifteen by gifting them 'swill'. They breathed fire that night in more than the traditional way.
"Look, if you want this house, talk with Anwen. After the war you can have it. Lily doesn't like the city either, says it's too dirty." Sirius nodded and they went into the dining room that now was full of chairs and a thin table with two chairs behind it. James and Sirius took up their places.
This was Anwen's plan, and while it was beyond risky, if it worked then the war might end sooner than anyone could hope. Sure, it would never work with someone like Sirius's cousin Bella, she was a true believer. Others on the dark side, however, might just think about it. Whether the light would go along was anyone's guess. The four Aurors that were specifically invited arrived first and took up their places around the room.
Wilken met guests coming in the front door while Kreature, on loan from Walburga with instructions to be kind to Sirius, met those who arrived by Floo. Elba and Dobby, the Malfoys former house elf, made sure everyone had a drink. Sirius stood and cleared his throat once the task was finished.
"Good afternoon, you're probably wondering why we called you here," he began.
"What's to stop me from lifting my wand and killing you right now?" a voice from the back that sounded like Walden Macnair asked.
"You'll find there is a magical suppression spell on the entire room. The only ones who can do magic are the elves and James and me," he answered back in the haughtiest tone his friend had ever heard him use.
"That's not fair," Macnair whinged. "There are Aurors here."
"Don't do anything in this room you could be arrested for, and we won't bother you. Same rules as any function we have all been at in the past," James instructed.
"Why should we even listen to whatever you called us here for?" another voice asked.
"You won't listen to them," came the response. "But you will listen to me." Anwen said as she came in. You deemed my royal heritage to be important, so allow me to remind you that regardless of what bloodline you are from, you are not so high as I am."
The woman entered with a full crown on her head, something Walburga helped her find in one of the Black homes. She wore a white gown with a red, ermine trimmed robe and the jewelled crests of the three families she could claim by blood. When she was alive, Euphemia Potter thought that Anwen could rival any member of the royal family in the way she held her carriage and neck. She had worked with Anwen on her manners and the girl learned the lessons exceptionally well. It was on full display as she came to the table where a third chair materialized, and she sat down with astounding poise and grace.
The truth was Anwen felt silly playing up her regal heritage, the whole Parker Princess thing, as Alice and James had as much royal blood as she. However, Alice wasn't ever thought of that way and James laughed at the idea. "You are here because I called you here. Look around the room, consider those who were your playmates in childhood, your housemates at Hogwarts, and note who has already died. Too many of us have lost our lives; many more will if we allow this war to spiral onward."
"What do you mean?" Sylvie Selwyn asked. "Our Lord has the right idea."
"Your lord isn't a lord. He's not even pureblood," Anwen said and let the words hang in the air.
"Lies," someone screamed out. The young man who belonged to the Fawley line, but who had not gone to Hogwarts, pulled his wand and with a twitch of her finger it flew into Anwen's hand.
"Idiot," she said as she laid it before her. "I could squash you like a bug before you took your next breath. Anyone else want to challenge us?" The room was quiet, and Alice had to hide her smirk from her cousin. If she began giggling, Anwen might break character.
"Let's have a little history lesson," Anwen began, and Amelia looked at her suspiciously. She couldn't figure out where this was going. She then looked to one of her top Aurors and James motioned to her to be patient. "Who here has ever heard of the Knights of Walpurgis?" There were many shakes of the head and others just look dumfounded.
"They were a student led group, mostly Slytherin but a few Ravenclaws as well, from the nineteen twenties. It was made up of all purebloods, except their leader. I find the name quite funny as Saint Walpurgis was known for her persecution of witches; but I digress. The group had followers from some of the oldest, and purest, last names - Avery, Nott, Black - and they followed a student by the name of Tom Riddle."
"Riddle isn't a Wizarding name," Lydia MacMillan announced.
"You're right. Tom's father was a Muggle, and his last name was Riddle. The family were a gentry family and landowners in Great Hangleton. Tom's mother, however, came from a very old line with the name Gaunt. She didn't have much wanded magical skill but was most proficient with potions. By the way, the Gaunt line died out because Tom killed his uncle, the last remaining member beside himself. He eschewed the last name Gaunt and kept Riddle. He disappeared for a while, leaving his former knights to their own devices. When he returned, he had taken a new name – Lord Voldemort. Anyone who likes to play word games, his middle name was Marvolo. Start your sentence with the words 'I am' and then use the rest of the letters only once."
"You're lying."
"I'm not, everything I have told you so far is verifiable by account of students who went to school with him, Hogwarts records or conversations with some current and former professors. I find it ironic that so many of you who are claiming pureblood rights are following the child of a Muggle and a woman who was a squib, in your vernacular."
"You're a murderer," a young woman's voice rang out and Anwen was sure it was Rayne. "How do we know you're not going to murder us?"
"First of all, it wasn't murder, although I did kill Evan Rosier; however, it was in self-defence. He was attempting to rape and then murder me," Anwen said calmly. They were expecting someone to bring it up. "As the lead captain of the Aurors is here, and I live with numerous members of the DMLE, I can tell you that no charges were ever brought, and my actions were considered justifiable. As long as none of you attempt to sexually assault or kill anyone else in the room, you have nothing to worry about."
"But," the voice elongated the word and Anwen knew something was up.
"But if you try whatever it is you're thinking about, or I see a hint of your wand you will be in a world of hurt. I'm not wearing any fancy jewellery today," she said while lifting her wrist. "I don't want to hurt anyone; in fact, I would like to see all of us live to a ripe old age with grandchildren underfoot. If we keep letting the two old men duke it out, at least half of us won't make it."
"Anwen, even you have to admit our way of life is at risk," Evelyn Ellerthorpe said. "We were in healer classes together and you know that the magical birthrate is falling."
"You're right it is falling," Anwen agreed.
"It's because we're letting Mud –" whomever was talking was cut off by James and Sirius loudly growling. "Muggleborns in." Anwen suspected it was Cuthbert Crabbe, given the nasal pitch of his voice.
"It's quite the opposite," Anwen quietly responded. There was murmuring and a few people disagreeing with her in lower tones.
"You married one, Potter. Talk about a blood traitor!" Geoffrey Goyle spit out. The two were always together and might have half a brain between them.
"Quiet down," Anwen said in a soft, yet commanding voice. The rattling of the floors unnerved everyone, even her husband and brother. "Thank you. Muggleborns are not the problem, in fact they are the solution."
"That can't be true!" an angry voice yelled out and Anwen again rattled the floor.
"It is true. Who here has heard of haemophilia?" the only ones who raised their hands were Frank, Alice and surprisingly, Amelia Bones. "Well, for the remainder of you, haemophilia is a blood born disease that causes you to bleed profusely from a small cut or even a bruise. Your blood doesn't clot on its own, which is how you stop bleeding. It can be deadly from something as small as a paper cut or a nick from shaving.
"In the mid-nineteenth century, British Queen Victoria married her cousin Albert. Together they had nine children. Those children were married off to the children of her cousins. Now, neither the Queen, her husband or their children showed any signs of the disease, but as they continued to intermarry the disease became more prevalent. The worst care of it was in the Czar of Russia's son. He had to often be carried about because he bruised easily, and falling or bumping into something could have killed him," Anwen explained.
"Why should we care about that Muggle disease?" one of the Avery brothers yelled out. "We can't catch it."
"That's not true, it isn't a disease you catch, it's a disease you're born with. And the reason why you should care; any of you heard of the Black madness?" There were nods and sounds of agreement or understanding. "That is a blood born, inherited disease which is flourishing in the Black bloodline because they keep marrying their own cousins or children of the same few families."
"Are you saying that the practice is bad for magical society?" Calliope Crouch asked.
"Yes. Birth rates are down among pureblood families. I reviewed the last fifty years of birth records and those families that remained 'pure' had a fifty-six percent drop in the number of pregnancies that resulted in a living child. Of those children, the rate increased from seventeen percent to forty-one percent that the child would either be low in magic or without any at all," Anwen answered.
"Another number to consider, those families which chose to marry half-blood or Muggleborn witches and wizards had thirty-three percent more children and the level of their magic at starting Hogwarts was higher than their strictly pureblood counterparts." Anwen let that sink in. "Plus, if we're dead, we won't be having any children."
"So, what do you want from us?" Cyrus Greengrass asked. His family was wealthy, and he was recently married. More importantly, his family was neither light nor dark and they were seen as a barometer in the Wizengamot.
"We suggest we all stop battling each other. There won't be a war without troops," the princess stated plainly.
"That's it?" Cyrus asked.
"Yes. If we don't fight, if we stop beating each other to a bloody pulp we can avoid losing most of our generation."
"If we don't fight for the Dark Lord, he's going to kill us," Walden Macnair said gruffly.
"For anyone who wants out of his service, there is help. Approach either Sirius or me and we can put you in touch with someone who will help you leave the UK until Tom is dealt with," James stated.
"But my family is here," a female voice whinged from the back.
"It isn't forever," Sirius said. "A war without soldiers doesn't last long."
"Do we need to tell you today?" one of the Nott cousins, although neither James nor Sirius could come up with his first name, asked.
"No, we don't even need to know what you want to do, unless you need help. Just stop fighting," James said.
"They aren't doing anything right now, but the Aurors have arrest warrants out for me," Sturgis Selwyn said. "What about those?"
"I'm one of those Aurors," James said. "It isn't within my power to erase your crimes, but if you turn yourself in you will be in a better position to work out an agreeable plea." That was the standard plan within the DLME. There was some grumbling.
"That's all we wanted to say," Anwen said. "Thank you for coming. Please don't crowd the Floo on your way out."
Two days later, Anwen, Lily and Eva were in the nursery with the four babies while Frank, Alice, Sirius, and James were at work. Remus was holed up in the library working on a project for his final year of Uni. It was a pleasant time for the women and the children. Eva had finally coaxed Violet into eating with a bottle, which had allowed Anwen to rock Alfie to sleep. Their head elf popped in, his ears drooping, which was a sign he was about to deliver bad news.
"What's wrong, Wilken?" Anwen asked.
"Professor Dumbledore is insisting he speak with you Lady Mrs Anwen," the elf said. Anwen let out a disgusted huff at the man coming when he knew both James and Sirius would be out.
"Show him up here, but make sure he knows we are getting the babies ready for their naps," Anwen said, and Wilken popped away. "He can walk the steps," she muttered. "Arthritis my foot." The other two didn't know what that meant, but now wasn't the time to ask. "How did he find out so soon and why is he here when James and Sirius are gone?"
"All good questions," Lily agreed. "Should we alert Remus?"
"Remus had nothing to do with what happened the other day. No, it was my idea and I'm more than capable of handling his queries myself. I wonder, should I pull the tiara out again and wear it for his audience?" The other women laughed without making a sound, which is very hard to do. Albus walked into a room full of shaking women with smirks on their faces.
"Well, you seem to be a mirthful bunch," he said jovially and took the only chair left in the room, which was a toddler sized one that Alfie enjoyed pulling himself up on. Sirius had stuck it to the floor, so he didn't pull the seat over on top of his body. Albus sat on it uncomfortably, and even attempted to transfigure it, but his spell couldn't override the one the boy's father had put into place. "How are you all this afternoon?"
"We're well," Lily answered. "Getting these four down and then Anwen and I will take a rest while the children are resting." Sleep when your baby sleeps. Cardinal rule number one when a new mother.
"Yes, well, I'll make this quick. I've heard rumours about a meeting at your London townhouse, Lily. Could you tell me about it?" he asked.
"I didn't even know that we had a London townhouse until James returned the other day. James has never taken me and even if he had, I wouldn't want to live there. Too much dirt and smoke. I lived in Cokeworth, remember, I don't like smoky air."
"Oh," Dumbledore looked surprised. "Then perhaps you can tell me about it, Anwen?"
"Of course I can. Dad took me once, and I think we stayed there once when we were headed to see the Muggle ballet do the Nutcracker at Christmastime. The townhome is in Notting Hill and it has a lovely royal blue paint on the door and –"
"Not the townhome itself, Anwen, the meeting," he said with the merest hint of irritation.
"Oh, that, well it was my idea," she said before she and the others were surprised with James and Sirius coming into the room.
"Hey sis, Wilken visited us in the office and said we had company. Since all we were doing was paperwork, Amelia let us go," James said congenially. "Why don't we head downstairs to the lounge where we can discuss this without awakening the children?"
"Capital idea, old friend," Sirius said in an overly cheerful tone.
"Elba," Lily called, and the nursery elf was with them presently. Neville had already been laid down by Eva, before she'd tackled the bottle and Violet. Anwen laid Alfie down while Lily put Harry into his cot. Violet had only eaten half her bottle and was now out cold. Elba took the bottle and then drifted the youngest into her cot and the three women headed for the stairs. This was not a conversation any of them were looking forward to.