This chapter took forever to write, as you may have noticed. It is huge, and that is part of why it took so long. I hope that those of you with the patience to stick with me will enjoy it.
More to come. Happy Easter, all!
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Bonds of Blood and Magic | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Severus Snape Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence/Physical Abuse Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 932 Summary: A few days before Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry vanished. Two weeks later, Ginny disappeared, also alone and without a trace. Someone has stepped out of the shadows for a moment, moved some pieces on the board, and changed the rules of the game. Hitcount: Story Total: 407033; Chapter Total: 8970 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Sunday, November 23rd, sometime before sunrise Rain pelted the ground, making tiny impact craters in the mud as if they were bullets dropping from a defilading machine gun. Sentries, shrouded by the mist of rain, posted on the rim of the muddy embankment, just where they could each look out into the gloom, but not be seen by any from the other side. They huddled in their coats, some with a blanket over their shoulders for added warmth, weapons clutched in nervous hands, as they shivered in their misery and fear. Whistles sounded in the dark. Men shouted, feet splashed through mud and water, and explosions thundered through the pre-dawn gray. A massed wave of humanity lunged over the embankment. For a moment, they looked no different than the startled sentries. Then, they grappled with the sentries, overwhelmed them, and cut them down even as more men rushed to defend the line. Occasional rifle and pistol shots sounded, sparse against the shouts of angry men, and the screams of the wounded and dying. It was mostly violent, hand-to-hand struggles to stab, cut, strangle, and beat the enemy to death. It was a brutal fight, a mass of struggling, terrified men, men who had no particular desire to hurt one another, but who desperately killed each other none-the-less. An officer appeared in the gloom and mud, pistol in one hand and an odd little shovel in his other. He flung himself into the battle with the same disregard for his own safety the defending men on his side seemed to have, but his blows and shots seemed to have much greater effect than any of the other soldiers, whether the enemy or his own men. After what was only a few minutes, but seemed impossibly long to the men doing the dying, the enemy retreated, leaving most of their fallen where they lay. One brave soldier ran back to the mud wall, dropped his rifle, and lifted another soldier, who cried out in agony as he was thrown over the other soldier’s shoulders. None of the defenders attempted to hinder the enemy soldier as he staggered away into the dark with his burden. They just stood there and panted heavily, and began looking to the other fallen for survivors. “Captain Potter!” came a shout to the rear of the trench, for that it was. The tall, dark-haired officer ignored the shout, however, as he was bent over one of the fallen soldiers, coaxing him to stay alive for a moment longer. “Damn,” he muttered softly as the man stopped breathing. He immediately began repeatedly pressing the man’s chest, and if a soft glow started showing beneath his hands, it was not noticed by anyone else in the mass of confusion and shouts as men began pulling the fallen away from the trench and to find them aid, or to take them to the morgue. “Captain,” said a man’s voice softly from behind him. “We’ll take him now, sir,” said the young soldier. The dark-haired officer pulled back from the now-breathing soldier. His color was still pasty, but the wound that had so terribly gaped only moments before had now closed to a mere gash with a trickle of blood still weeping from it. “Go ahead, Private. That stomach wound needs a serious look from the surgeon.” The private’s eyes opened wide. “Y…yes, sir! We thought he’d died!” The captain shook his head. “Not yet, anyway.” “Captain, the Colonel wants to see you,” came another voice as the captain rose to his feet and started wiping his hands on a rag. “Right, Lieutenant. I’ll see him as soon as I’ve seen to the men.” “Sir, I’m to see to the men, he wants you immediately.” Inwardly gritting his teeth, the captain nodded and stalked away. “More dead soldiers, no problem. Inconvenienced Colonel? Big problem, captain,” he muttered softly as he stomped through the mud and navigated his way through the maze of tunnels, trenches, and revetments to the Colonel’s office, in an underground bunker dug deep into the side of a small hill. The rough wooden door was held in place by large timbers, and hidden behind a wall of filled sandbags. Here was the final redoubt, a defensive position for the most desperate of situations, the captain thought to himself as he stepped past the sandbags. He knocked on the door, and entered when he heard a muffled voice from inside. “Captain Potter, reporting as ordered, sir,” he said with a salute to the man sitting behind a field desk in the man-made, sandbag-lined cave. The Colonel acknowledged the salute with one of his own and nodded to a stool by the desk. “Sit down, Captain.” The Colonel didn't say anything more for a moment, as he was looking at a few papers in a file folder. Eventually, he closed the folder, laid it on the desk, and turned to face the captain. He had a perplexed look on his face, complete with furrowed brow. “Captain, I've just received an interesting message about you. There is an official total of ten graduates of St. David's Academy in His Majesty's army, which I have just learned is the public name of a Hogwarts School of … something to do with sorcery? I am assured that this … school actually exists, and that you are actually a graduate of that school. The question I have been instructed to ask is how many of you are over here. However, as this war has nothing to do with your kind, that we know of, the question I prefer, and think much more important is, what are you doing here?” The captain sighed, and opened his mouth to speak. Just at that moment, Harry jerked and startled, his eyes open in the dark. Ginny wrapped her arm across his chest, hitched her leg over his hip, and burrowed her head into his shoulder blade. He stopped shaking a few minutes later, and slowly felt sleep overtake him once again. After she felt his breathing even out, Ginny turned slightly and stared at the ceiling until the sun came up. *** Fleur set a plate of food next to her husband at the table. “Still hasn't gone?” she said. He shook his head and waved at the wooden box. A roll of parchment rested there, innocuous save for the fact that he knew some of its contents. A single sheet with his own writing on it was wrapped around the official Gringotts' parchment. Fleur settled carefully into the seat beside him, and pressed her hand against the tight roundness of her belly. “Your mother is worried about you, going in to work like that.” “Couldn't be helped. They were hard enough to convince to talk to me in person. Not that they gave an inch while I was there. Barely got that out of them as it was,” he said, as tense as she had ever seen him. Without warning, the box glowed brightly for a moment. When it stopped, the parchment was gone. If anything, Bill seemed even more tense. “Well, that's that.” He clenched his fist beside his plate. “If anything happens to her, that boy is going to wish he'd never been born,” he growled. Fleur rolled her eyes. “It was as much 'er idea as it was 'is, and she was the one that talked you into getting the information for them. You can't really blame 'im for this.” “She wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for him, though,” he countered. Fleur cocked her head slightly, dismissing the comment. “The whole country is in the mess, not just the two of them, an' you can certainly not blame any of zat on 'im. She is 'er own person, and you know eet.” “Doesn't mean anything good is going to come of this.” “Just be glad that they 'ave you to 'elp them, and that they asked.” The tension evident in Bill's posture did not ease, though he did nod slightly. *** Harry lifted the small roll of parchment from the transfer stone linked to Bill’s box. The stone was a small, flat piece of polished white marble, cut in a rectangular shape, and etched in runes. It had taken him over a week of painstaking, headache-inducing work to make, but it was secure, and as a nice side benefit, took less effort to shift more material than doing it without the linked box and stone. The cover letter surprised him. He wasn't expecting anything personal from Bill, after all, just information from the bank. The note was short, and simply explained that Bill hadn't been able to get any specific details out of the goblins, merely a copy of bank policies to pass on to the customer he was inquiring on behalf of, and a recommendation from Bill that Harry keep himself and Bill's sister away from the bank, Diagon Alley, and London itself if it could be managed, and wouldn't they prefer just to go on an international holiday, perhaps to the Bahamas, for a few … years? Harry sighed, and unrolled the other parchment. A small pop sounded next to the roll-top desk Harry was sitting at. “Master, breakfast is being ready,” came Kreacher's gravelly voice. Harry turned to look at the old elf. “Thank you, Kreacher. Please let the Lupins know. We'll be out in a few minutes.” The old elf bowed and popped away, while Harry turned back to the parchment in his hand. It wasn't very long, just a sheet of legalese that said who could access a customer's account, who could not, and what information a representative could access without the customer having arranged it beforehand. In short, Bill could not get him the information he needed, even with the letter Harry had given him authorizing him access to the accounts, because Harry had never set up an official proxy at the bank, and the letter Harry had given to Bill was not sufficient to substitute for the proper legal documents. He could withdraw a limited amount of money in Harry’s name, either with a vault key or based on Harry's letter, but that was all. He couldn't even enter the vault. “We definitely have to go to Gringotts,” he muttered darkly. “I hate being right sometimes.” Ginny walked into the room as he spoke. She leaned over the arm of his chair and read the brief note from her brother. She sighed, pasted a smile on her face and asked, “Are you hungry yet? I think Dobby has breakfast ready.” “Yeah, Kreacher was just in to say so.” Harry stood shakily from the desk chair and leaned into his wife. He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent and sighed. “I'm glad we called the elves. They both looked depressed when they got here. Go on, then,” he said. “I'll be right out. Don't let Tonks eat everything,” he teased as he pulled away and gently pushed Ginny towards the door. Her brow furrowed at him as she looked over her shoulder, but she shook her head and went out the door. *** Tonks sighed a bit as she carefully sat in her chair by the dining table. Remus was already in the room, but he hadn't sat down yet. “Kids coming out?” she asked. He turned to her and answered, “Kreacher told 'Master Harry,' he says,” as he walked over to the table and kissed her cheek. She smiled and shook her head. “Still strange to have him acting somewhat normal,” she said as he sat next to her. He snorted. “You preferred him cursing us and calling us names?” “Not at all. Just commenting on the switch, really.” “Yeah. Wonder what Harry did to get him more pleasant to be around?” “Wolf should not wonder about things that do not concern him,” grumbled a low, gravelly voice. The speaker was clearly Kreacher, even though they could not see him from across the table. A platter of sausages appeared on the table top, near where his voice had come from. Both Tonks and Remus bit their lips to keep from laughing. “Be careful, wolfie. He might stop feeding us,” quipped Tonks. Kreacher scowled at them around the corner of the table. “Kreacher shall not stop feeding Master's retainers, unless Master or Mistress orders it. Kreacher is an honorable elf of House Black,” he insisted in an offended tone. Ginny came into the room in time to hear his speech. “Is everything alright?” Kreacher immediately scooted over to her, bowing obsequiously while simultaneously trying to keep his adoring eyes on her face. “Yes, Mistress, everything is being fine now,” he said, with a contemptuous glance over his shoulder at the Lupins. Ginny said, very carefully, “I … see.” Tonks turned away from watching the interaction between witch and elf suddenly and started coughing, her face hidden from view for several moments by one of her hands. Remus continued to bite his lips. Ginny smiled brightly as she bent down to Kreacher. “What are we having this morning, Kreacher?” “Oh, Mistress, Kreacher and bad Dobby have made excellent breakfast, with all of Mistress and Master's favorites. There is being fruits, and meats, and breads, and juices, and teas, and coffees, and milk. Mistress is eating now? Where is Master?” “Harry will be here soon enough, Kreacher, thank you.” Ginny sat at the small table across from Tonks, and smiled at her. “How are you doing, Tonks? You look so good today!” Tonks laughed. “I do not! I look and feel like a whale, a fat, frumpy, dumpy whale.” Ginny snorted. “I never saw mum pregnant, but I can't imagine anyone looking more beautiful pregnant than you do.” Tonks made a face. “Fleur does.” Ginny started at that, but then smiled and said, “Of course, she does. Has to make mortal women feel inferior at everything, after all.” “I don't know about that, you look radiant, love. Bit peaked, though,” said Remus with an afterthought. Harry popped into the room at that moment, his apparition nearly as silent as a footfall on the thick carpet. He did not stumble upon his arrival, but his steps as he walked to the table were very cautious. Remus only noticed him as he approached the table because he saw Ginny carefully watching something behind him. He started at Harry's appearance when he turned to see what Ginny was looking at, because with each step it seemed Harry might fall, but he never did more than sway a bit in one direction or another. Harry hissed as he sat. “Feels like I'm walking around drunk,” he complained. “But you haven't fallen at all,” reminded Ginny. “Thank Merlin for small favors,” he grumbled. “And just how do you know what it feels like to walk around drunk?” asked Remus in an arch tone. Harry looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Marlene McKinnon and Melissa MacDougal, October, 1976.” Remus sat back in his chair, his eyes wide. “I can't believe he told you about that,” he muttered. “He told me everything about it,” said Harry, his eyes still fixedly staring into Remus's. No amount of teasing from Tonks or Ginny would get either of them to say another word on the subject. Ginny did notice, however, that Remus completely dropped the question of whether Harry had ever been drunk. “Ughh, how can you drink that?” asked Tonks, watching Harry sip at some orange juice. The other three at the table looked at her oddly. “What? It's too sweet,” she protested. “Yes, and pickles with peanut butter ice cream is the best ever,” quipped Harry. This prompted much more levity from Remus and Ginny, and a pout from Tonks as her hair shifted from a light pink to shocking red. “Seriously, who would even think of that? What made you want it?” asked Ginny. “My mum swore that was the only thing that got her through being pregnant with me, and I like it,” Tonks grumped. Harry snorted, and tried not to laugh. Distressingly, Tonks's face crumpled, and she started to cry. Harry started to apologise for laughing, but she cut him off. “It's not you!” she said, almost angrily. Then, she choked out, “I just realised … I mean, I just left when you told me to come with you, and I didn't tell mum where I was going, and now they don't know where I am, and I can't even send them messages! What am I going to do when the baby comes? I want my mum,” she whimpered. “Don't worry about that, Tonks, it's really not a problem. Tell us where they are, and we'll get them up here,” said Ginny. “At least I get to have Remus back. I was so afraid I was going to be alone,” she muttered as she reached out and stroked Remus's arm. “Our mums wouldn't have let you be alone,” said Ginny bracingly. “Not the same, Ginny,” Tonks retorted. “No, I suppose not,” she agreed easily. Harry and Remus exchanged eye rolls at the continuing female conversation, and went back to putting breakfast on their plates. “What are your plans for the day, Harry?” “This afternoon, I have training with Duncan. Ginny will do her training with Akiko. Why do you ask?” “We were wondering if you would like us to teach you any spells, or I could practice something with you, or Tonks could coach you through a potion. It sounds like your morning is open.” Harry paused for a moment, and looked over at Ginny, who was engrossed in her conversation with Tonks. “That could be good,” he said cautiously, “but our morning isn't really free. We're going to see Ginny's brother, and we have to get ready to go to France and Switzerland in the next couple of weeks.” “Which brother?” Tonks asked curiously. “Ron,” Ginny replied, “and Moody, too. We need to ask them some questions about the surveillance they're doing.” “Would you like your royal retainers to accompany you?” Remus asked with a smirk. “Your services will not be required, sirrah,” Ginny responded and stuck her nose in the air. Harry looked confused, but said, with a sheepish look, “We'll actually be a bit north of Mar, so you really couldn't . . .” “Eirica's driving us,” Ginny added quickly. “You don't need to worry about us.” “We can't help but worry,” Remus replied with a grimace. Look, I don't want to get in your way, but I do want to feel like I'm able to contribute something,” Remus said softly. “You seem to be getting help from a lot of different people. I hope you'll let me help, too. I know I'm stuck here, but I do have some experience teaching, as you might recall.” Harry laughed softly. “And you are somewhat accomplished at it, as well,” he agreed. Remus smiled at Harry's compliment. “So I am told.” “Remus, I doubt you could be in our way. We are so glad to have you here, you know. Ginny and I, we have tried so hard to be … well, we've had to change a lot since last summer, and I'm not sure we've gotten everything right. People have tried to help us, but we have to be the ones making the decisions about what we do and where we go. It is nice to have friends around, though. Much less lonely.” “Well, at least we can be more familiar company,” sighed Remus. “And you're someplace safe,” Harry added. “And that's a relief. You have no idea how much we worried about you when no one could find you.” Tonks put her hand on Remus's arm again, but she didn't say anything. Remus cleared his throat before asking, “Is your healer in France? I thought you had healers here, Doctor Weaver and … that other guy?” Harry set down his forkful of omelet. “Well, I've only been here for a few weeks so I have other healers . . . erm, Muggle doctors mostly, and therapists. My doctors in France scheduled me for follow-up appointments two months ago when they released me from hospital. It's mostly just tests to see how I'm progressing.” Harry shrugged and looked at Ginny. She smiled at him so he picked up his fork. “Harry's head injury was pretty severe so they're keeping a close watch over him,” Ginny said, continuing the explanation. “We actually have to go a day earlier than we'd planned because of his sudden ataxia ...” “Ataxia?” Tonks interrupted. “How uncoordinated he became after he fell in the river,” Ginny explained. Tonks snorted, “Is that what it's called?” she asked. “I've had that pretty much my whole life.” Everyone at the table began to laugh. “How did you get such a severe head injury? Did you fall, or get hit with something?” “No,” Ginny said with a sigh, “it was entirely magical in nature but had rather mundane consequences once the curses were removed.” “Why did you have to go to France?” Remus asked. “And, for that matter, how did you even get there, if you were so injured?” Harry and Ginny shared a look. “We don't mean to pry,” Tonks said. “But we are curious. I know someone was treating you at Grimmauld Place. Why did you leave? What happened?” “You, actually,” Ginny said with a smile. “We took a portkey to a hospital in France when you and Moody tripped the wards on our doorstep. That was our escape plan.” Tonks blinked. “I suppose you couldn't be sure who we were.” “Or if we could trust you, and so forth,” Harry said nodding. “But how?” Remus asked again. “We had help,” Harry huffed. “We didn't exactly make ourselves a portkey, obviously. We couldn't really stay in England or go to a magical hospital, so Ginny took me to a Muggle doctor a friend of ours knows in France while I recovered.” “This is just a follow up visit. We won't be gone long,” Ginny added, “probably about a week.” “But why are you going to Switzerland?” Remus asked. “We didn't get to finish our honeymoon,” Ginny quipped. “So Tonks, when is your next check-up? Will you find out if you're having a boy or a girl? Last we spoke, Remus here wanted to be surprised.” *** Ron and Moody apparated to an empty field. In researching the requested meeting site in an old book of Moody's, Ron had discovered that there was an old apparition point outside the castle that had been in use up to two centuries prior, but the coordinates were still considered to be accurate, according to the authors of the book. It was their third apparition of the morning, and followed a portkey jump from Wales to Northumbria. Ron immediately looked about for Harry, but saw only a very run-down, ruined pile of rubble with some worn walls rising above. “That's the castle?” he asked, disbelief clear in his tone. “Sure. Bit popular with the Muggles these days ta make monuments out of 'em. History's wrapped up in them walls, boy. Wars, heroics, villainy — takes a mighty poor person not ta be interested in the history of their own people, and here we are, hundreds and hundreds of years this old pile o' rubble's stood here, watching people live and die. Kinda makes a man think, ya know.” Ron just shook his head. “Hogwarts is over a thousand years old, and it's in great shape, compared to this. That's just a falling down mess of rock.” Moody snorted, amused. “Hogwarts gets maintained constantly. Any damage ta the structure is immediately repaired, and besides, it's got a thousand years of wizards and witches and house elves livin' in it, castin' magic in it an' on it, not ta mention the ley lines it sits on. This'n here's just a Muggle building, anyway. No witches or wizards elves maintaining it, keeping it up. You know, Hogwarts is covered in some of the most dense and complex wards known to wizards. Your own folks' house wouldn't be standing, if it weren't for spells and wards lacing the whole thing together. “Hogwarts is a bit different from a regular old, run-of-the-mill castle, laddie, and don't ye forget it. Folks like your brothers and Harry's da have been runnin' amok there since before anyone really knows how long. Woulda fallen down centuries ago, just from shenanigans of kids like that, if it weren't for all the work o' the founders buildin' it, and the headmasters and staff since keeping it up and maintaining the spells and wards.” Ron looked thoughtful after Moody's lecture, but not convinced. “So, you found 'em yet?” asked Moody abruptly. “What?” asked Ron, confused at the apparent non-sequitur. “Yer sister and brother-in-law. Where are they, laddie?” “Erm, I don't know. How am I supposed to know? They didn't tell us exactly where they'd be.” “Well, they're supposed to be here, and I expect they got here first. Don't see anybody else around, do ya? How're ya gonna detect 'em?” Ron rolled his eyes. “They said tracking charms and revealing spells and that kind of thing don't work on them anymore.” Moody got a gleam in his good eye. “Did they, now? Did ya ever think ta test that theory?” Ron looked at him quizzically. “Try it, lad! Go on, see if you can find 'em.” Ron dubiously drew his wand from its holster. “Hominem Revelio,” he incanted with a practiced flick. A mist flowed from the tip of the wand at the end of the flick and swirled about them like an intense twisting eddy of wind, expanding in circles with Ron at the center, until it dissipated at about fifty meters from where he'd cast the spell. “Nothing,” he muttered. Moody smirked. “Try another one, then, or shift position and do that one again.” Ron heaved a sigh, and walked toward the ruins. Once he'd come to the trees that crowded the ditch near the wall, he cast the same spell again. This time, the swirl of the spell's effects encompassed most of the ruins and the ditch, but only gave similar results to Ron's first attempt. “Alright, so where are they?” “Hah. You've hardly begun, let alone exhausted the possibilities yet,” retorted Moody. “Yeah, but I figure you probably already know where they are, with that eye looking through solid rock and all.” “Well, it doesn't see through rock as well as most other media, but I think you ought to have the capability to find them on your own,” Moody said as he sat down in a conjured chair. “Have another go, then. Try something different.” Ron rolled his eyes. Another bloody exercise. He should have known. Three spells later, each increasing in complexity and difficulty of casting, he still hadn't found any trace of Harry or Ginny, and he was beginning to get worried. “That last one should have worked, Moody, it's never not worked since the first time I tried it. Do you think they're not here?” “Oh, no, they're here, all right. They've been watching us since we arrived,” countered Moody as he heaved himself out of his chair and vanished it. “What?! Why didn't you say something?” demanded Ron. “Come to that, why didn't they say anything?” “They are being cautious, and I am training you,” countered Moody as he stumped his way through the dead, frost-coated weeds to the side of the ruins. “Come on, we don't have all day,” he beckoned. “Could have fooled me,” came a voice from just inside the crumbling wall. “Did his charms work meet your expectations, Professor?” “Don't call me a bloody professor,” growled Moody as he stepped beyond the corner of a hole that had once been an arched entryway. “Why not? You're teaching my brother some high-level Auror skills and spells,” countered the young blonde woman sitting on a stone just inside the entrance. Her legs were crossed at the knee, and the top one swung her left lower leg carelessly. She wore a gray wool pea coat over black leggings, with low hiking boots. A black turtleneck peeked out of the collar of her coat. “Doing a pretty good job of it, judging from what he did out there. But, like I told Ron, none of those spells work on us,” she said as she rose to her feet. “I know ya told him, but this was a chance ta see if it was true, and for him to try out the spells in the field,” answered Moody. “I figured as much,” she said with a shrug. She stepped over to Ron and gave him a warm hug. “How are you, Ron? Moody feeding you enough?” Moody rolled his good eye as Ron laughed. “Nah, don't think there's enough food in the world sometimes.” He fingered her short hair wonderingly, but she batted his hand away and shook her head. “Growing lads are like that,” said Moody. Ginny stepped away from Ron. “Come on, then,” she said as she started off further into the ruins. “Harry's waiting, and we've got a lot to talk about.” They carefully wound through the rubble and weeds that sprouted within the walls of the ruins, til they came to a nearly intact room. It had no roof, in common with the rest of the rubble, but the walls were almost completely identifiable, and even the purpose of the room was made clear by the size and shape of the remains of the fireplace. It had once been, in the distant shadows of the past, a kitchen. Harry sat on a small folding camp chair in front of the fireplace, which had a bluebell flame burning merrily within. As they approached Harry, Ron and Moody noticed the air growing noticeably warmer. Harry turned from the fire and rose from his chair. He wore a brown tweed jacket with leather elbows, a smooth camel-colored turtleneck that looked like it might be cashmere, and darker brown wool trousers. His collar-length hair had a dusting of gray at the temples, and his eyes were brown, with no glasses to be seen. Since the operation to remove the Horcrux from his scar, it had faded to the point of being completely unremarkable to casual observers. In short, he didn't look a thing like Harry Potter. He just looked like a very tweedy gentleman of some means. “Hullo, Ron,” said Harry. “Huh,” said Ron as he paused briefly to take in Harry's new look. But then he shook his head and closed with Harry to give him a one-armed hug. Ron pulled back from manfully slapping Harry on the shoulder. “Mate, I'd never have recognized you! That's good-o, that is.” Moody settled himself onto a conveniently placed stone and looked at Harry and Ginny expectantly. “Well, let's get to it. What's on your minds?” Harry, taken aback at the blunt greeting, gaped at him for just a moment, but schooled himself quickly and sat back down in his chair. “Well, we need to get into Gringotts, to find out what's going on with my accounts. I tried to set up a proxy to do it, but they wouldn't tell him anything. They say that I have to set up any proxies in person, or conduct my business at the bank myself. That's the first thing, but … we noticed some strange things about Bellatrix and her trips in to the bank that concern us.” While he spoke, Ginny reached into the bag next to Harry's chair and pulled out two more camp chairs. She handed one to Ron and demonstrated how to use it by opening her own and sitting on it. “You noticed?” Moody queried. He glared at their chairs a bit, but did not say anything about them. “In the notes you gave us,” Ginny clarified with a nod. “Ah,” he nodded. “Well, what is it she's done that concerns you?” Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance. “We think she's moving some … items of critical importance to Tom, and we'd like to find out just where she took them.” “I remember that she's taken some things from the bank, but what makes you think it's anything significant? People take things from their vaults all the time, after all.” “It's kind of a trend, you see. The first thing we noticed was when you said she took a 'bauble' from the bank, and that you hit the bag with a tracking charm, but you lost the track after only a single apparition jump.” “Right, I remember that. They started using different courier bags after a bit, too, so I can't tell as easily what they've got in their bags, since their new ones are spelled to beat detection spells like this little jewel,” he said with a gesture to his magical eye. “Tracking charms slide right off of 'em, too.” Moody scratched his chin with his thumb. “Little buggers at the bank aren't likely to tell you anything about other customers' business, even if they don't actually like 'em,” he said slowly. “Confidentiality works against us as much as it does for us, ya know. That's why I've had to stake out the place. Can't even bribe 'em to get 'em ta tell ya what ye want ta know. Stubborn and rude, they are. Take an insult faster than anything.” “Yeah, we know,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “Like I said, I couldn't get information out of them for my own business, let alone other peoples' activities.” “Anyway, she's not been down there in a while now, at least not that I'm aware of, and she certainly hasn't been the only one moving things around. Other folks could've been moving whatever it is you're worried about.” Harry looked sharply at Moody. “Not the only one? Who else has been moving things?” “Other Death Eaters, people from the Ministry, wealthy folks. What you'd expect in times like these, really. Folk are taking valuables out of the country, ta keep 'em safe. Never can tell what might happen in a war, ya know.” Harry and Ginny shared a cautious look. Then Ginny asked, “How do you know they're leaving the country?” Moody shrugged slightly and waggled his eyebrows. “Tracking charms. Death Eaters're the only ones getting slippery about it.” “But those only work for, what, a couple of hundred miles or so, don't they?” said Ginny. “Sure, at best, you might get a bit over two hundred miles range with one, but that's far enough ta tell they've crossed the Channel, or gone elsewhere.” “Well, we're particularly interested in what Bellatrix has been doing. Tom doesn't trust easily, even most of his Death Eaters, but she seems to be … unique.” Moody snorted. “He doesn't trust any of them really, not even her. They're all just chattel, he uses them like tools and servants, an' kills 'em if he gets an idea to do it. But, you’re right. Bella is special. At least, he seems ta value her a bit more than the others.” “Exactly. We suspect Tom used, and probably still uses, rituals to prolong his life. He wouldn’t be able to do most of the ones we’ve researched by himself, so … if he needed help, Bellatrix would certainly be willing. If what she's been moving are important things to Tom, we'd like to get our hands on them and see what it's all about,” Ginny lied glibly. “What about that 'gold bauble' you said she moved in October? Do you remember it? Could it be used in a ritual?” Moody nodded. “Sure, it was a chalice, looked to be pure gold, with maybe a few jewels on it. Something like that could be used in dozens of different rituals, just about any kind you could think of. Question is, how are ya going to find out what it was, where she took it, or what they used it for?” He looked at Ginny for a moment, but neither she or Harry said anything further. “So, what is it ya need from me?” Harry answered this time. “It doesn't sound like we're going to be able to get anything from the goblins about Bellatrix or anything to do with that, but we still need to go.” He sighed a bit. “For starters, what we could use from you is some help planning and, when we go, perhaps some backup. You've been down there, you know what's going on. How do we get in and out without drawing attention to ourselves?” Moody snorted. “They figure out who you are, you'll get all kinds of attention.” “Well, we hoped you'd be able to help with that. Give us a different perspective while we make our plans, anyway. You've been to Gringotts a lot more recently than we have,” said Ginny. Moody shook his head. “Not really, girl. Haven't been inside in months. Just sit outside and watch the world go by, that's all we do.” Harry's eyebrow twitched. “When you're not kidnapping ministry employees.” “Hey, he deserved it. He was a real prat,” protested Ron. Moody rolled his good eye as he stood up and started to pace a bit, kicking bits of rubble out of his way as he stumped about. “Don't know what I can tell you that you don’t already know, Potter. What you need is some way you can actually get to London, and then get in and out of the bank without being noticed or getting caught. Ye've done well, figuring out how to keep yourselves from being traceable by revealing spells and such like, but you can't rely on that too much. Nothing you can do is that perfect.” “Well, judging by the fact that most of the notes you gave us were from reconnaissance of the Alley, you know how to get in and out of there. We'll handle the disguises and getting to London and back ourselves. But the Alley …” Moody nodded and leaned in over Harry. “What you have to remember, boy, is … CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he barked in Harry's face. Harry and Ginny looked at each other, and started to laugh. “Mr. Moody,” said Ginny through her trailing giggles. “Look down.” His eyes went to Harry's hands, which were filled with a wand and dirk. The tip of each was mere inches from Moody's belly. Harry said nothing, just quirked an eyebrow as he carefully sheathed the knife. Moody's eye widened a fraction when the knife clicked home. “That's a neat trick,” he commented. “Be careful with that thing. Wouldn't do for you to cut something you didn't mean to, or for someone to take it from you.” Harry smirked. “Take what, Mad-eye?” he said, his arms held out a bit from his sides. No evidence of the blade remained visible. “Point,” said Moody with a nod. He sighed as he drew his own wand and conjured a large, comfortable-looking chair. “What were you thinking of doing, and when?” he asked as he sat back down. Harry and Ginny exchanged another look. He nodded to her, and she turned to Moody and started speaking. “Well, the simplest thing to do would be to disguise ourselves, and walk into the Alley through the Leaky Cauldron.” Moody snorted dismissively as Ginny continued, “Then, we'd just have to get down the Alley to Gringotts.” Harry added, “It seems that, at least for now, we'll have to figure something else out about discovering what Bellatrix has been doing, but we should be able to get the goblins to give us a full accounting of my holdings. We also want to get a decent amount of gold to be running around on. Oh, if you need some gold, just let us know what you need when we get back from our trip, and we'll figure out how to get it to you.” “We were hoping to be able to get that done soon, before we leave for the continent,” Ginny clarified. “I don't keep my money in Gringotts, so you don't need to worry about me” Moody said as one of his eyes flickered to Ron and back. “But, your insertion point shouldn't be the Leaky, Potter. That's just a foolish place to try to enter from. The whole place is full o' Death Eaters and such, just watching the entrance for unwary folk to come in and get wrapped up.” “Alright, what do you suggest?” Harry asked. “Knockturn Alley. What you want to do is go in over the top from the Muggle side, and come down on the inside after you cross the wards, near the mouth o' the alley. Or, I suppose you could go in through the Painted Lady.” “What's that?” asked Ginny. “I don't remember ever seeing that shop.” “That is because it's a whorehouse,” Moody said bluntly. “Bit more discreet than most other shops in the Alleys, since clients don't wan' ta be noticed goin' in an' out. Don't need to use the floo to get in, since they've got an entrance in London proper, too. So, ya could get in from the Muggle side, an' out into tha' alley. If ya do that, ya gotta figure out what yer business is goin' ta be there, ta answer questions. They don't particularly care for folk using their … ahem, discreet entrance, just ta get into tha' alley.” Harry and Ginny looked at each other and blinked a few times. Ron simply turned bright red. Harry frowned. “I thought you had to go through a Floo, or the Leaky, to get through the secrecy wards.” Moody waved a hand. “There's businesses up and down the Alley with entrances of one kind or another. Ye've just got ta know where yer going. The whole alley's covered with Muggle repelling wards, Notice-Me-Not, and Expansion Charms. Shouldn't affect the two of you at all, right?” “Right, except for the mountaineering part, since we're not going through the whorehouse. I can't exactly do that without some serious magical assistance. Someone's bound to notice me flailing about while I fall off one of those roofs.” Moody goggled at him for a moment, and then thunked his fake leg with his staff. “Yeh can apparate, can't yeh?” At Harry's embarrassed nod, Moody continued, “Thought you were supposed to be a sharp lad. Bit 'o precise apparition, good silencing charm, and a Notice-Me-Not charm takes care of the rest, dunderhead! Be even better if you can get your hands on a good invisibility cloak. Might have an extra one I can lend ya.” Harry ducked his head. “Right.” Ginny snickered a bit. “Harry's got one, and we can both do a pretty good Notice-Me-Not.” Moody grunted, “I'll teach you one better than what you learned at school.” “We'll be glad to learn it,” said Harry. “We should have some kind of signal to call for help if we get into trouble, don't you think?” asked Ginny. “Maybe we should be on surveillance near the Alley if you're actually going to go do this,” countered Ron. “That way, if something goes wrong, we'll already be there and ready to help.” “What signal do you think they could use, lad? Sparks and such would attract unwanted attention more than it would get us to come running.” “Well, what about the protean disks, then?” said Ron promply. “Can we count on those?” asked Moody. “What's the range on those things? Are there wards you haven't been able to send messages through?” “Range is unlimited, you could be on the other side of the world and you'd still get whatever message was sent. And we haven't heard that there were people not getting messages,” answered Harry. “Well, you wouldn't, would you?” countered Moody. “If someone wasn't getting a message, and you didn't expect a response, you'd just assume they got it.” Harry shrugged a shoulder and glanced at Ginny, who shook her head. “Hermione made the originals, and she never said anything about that sort of thing,” said Ron. “Would you have listened if she had?” said Ginny, with a bit of a vindictive smirk. Ron colored, but didn't answer. “Well, let's go with that for your signal, then. And yer brother an' I will be somewhere we can get to you from, if we need to extract in a hurry,” Moody stated. “Alright. We'll contact you for the exact date, and to firm up our plans, but it will be within the next week.” “We'll be ready.” Moody looked at them for a moment, and then pulled a small pad of paper out of one of his pockets. “This is a list of codes I've used in the past for sending messages. Look it over, pick out some things that you think would work well, and we'll talk again about it.” *** Wednesday, November 26th Snape sighed as he read the report for the third time. What did he have to do to get the stupid squib to leave off and just do his cursed job? Clean the castle, repair what needed it, and let the staff handle the rest. He lifted a quill from the blotter on his desk and, inking it, applied the nib to the parchment. Request Denied , he wrote in a spidery script. Blowing softly across the ink, he watched it for a moment until the shine of wetness disappeared, and then re-rolled the scroll. He re-tied it with the discarded scrap of rough string that he had removed when he finally decided, with a sigh, to read whatever new bit of nonsense Filch had burdened his in-box with. He placed it in the out-box on the corner of the desk, and watched with mild satisfaction as it disappeared, to be delivered to the squib's office. Efficiency was his watchword, after all. Clear communications among the staff was one of the things he'd insisted upon after being invested as Headmaster. Between himself, McGonagall, and Flitwick, the instantly transferring message boxes had been one neat solution they'd worked out that had quickly been implemented throughout the staff of the castle. He smirked to himself as he thought that McGonagall was certainly already using a similar system for … other purposes. And that she was likely just as certain that he'd no idea that she was doing it, right under his proverbial nose. No chance of that. Not with the wards telling him so much now. Not with his very life seemingly wrapped up in the ancient stone of the castle. He moved on to the next item in the smooth wood of the in-box, dispensed with it as abruptly as he had its predecessor, and finally had an empty desk for the first time in weeks. Just as he was leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied sigh, a house elf popped into the office, laid a Muggle envelope on his desk, and popped away again. French postage and familiar handwriting graced the velum. “Finally!” he muttered as he reached for the envelope. A small knife slit open the envelope, and he pulled the neatly folded pages out. The first page was a cover letter from Dr Jace, and the remaining pages were carefully annotated reports from physiotherapists that had taken a convoluted route from Aberdeen to France, to a post box Lincolnshire, and back to a hidden castle in the north of Scotland. As Snape read the cover letter, his eyebrows lifted at first, but then his brow knitted in a tight row of furrows. “What is the boy up to?” he muttered as he laid the letter on his blotter. He flipped through the physiotherapy reports, but found no clarity there. Among the reports of improved strength, flexibility, and stamina, were concerns about a sudden loss of coordination after a fall into a river, assurances that the coordination issues weren't caused by a stroke and were showing some improvement, and comments about an anticipated move to a newly remodeled, handicap accessible home. A home that Harry's “father” supposedly owned. A home that he, Severus Snape, the one the Muggles were supposed to think was Harry's “father,” actually knew nothing about. *** Harry walked steadily on the treadmill, his hands on the rails. His therapist for the day watched him for a long moment, shook his head, and turned to watch one of the other patients. One of the other staff members came back to the area with the treadmills and said, with a nod to Harry, “Well, he's doing much better today, isn't he?” “Yeah, he's still just as wobbly, but he's adapting, and compensating better. He may actually be stronger than he was before.” “Yes, he's definitely handling this setback better than the one last month. He'll get past it. He's a fighter.” Harry just shook his head at the overheard conversation. Whatever compensation his body and magic had received, he wasn't sure it would ever be enough. Isabel's “gift,” if you could call it that, certainly hadn't done anything for him that he could yet see. And it had already been eleven days. “A bit off,” she'd said before she did whatever she did. That had certainly been true, but he had yet to see any other effect, besides feeling like he couldn't walk right. Again. “Bloody spirits and their bloody plots,” he muttered darkly as he continued to trudge on the rubber belt. “Ten more bloody minutes of this thing.” When he finally finished, he stepped down carefully and wiped the handles off with a towel. Then, he went over to a large cable weight machine. He sat down on the rowing bench, adjusted the pin to the weight he'd been warming up with, and settled himself back on the bench. He took up the handles in both hands, and, after he took several deep breaths, pulled his upper body up into a tight, nearly vertical position and started slowly pulling the bar to the mid-point of his torso. After ten repetitions, he set the handles back down and slid back until his legs were straight, even while he leaned forward and let his hands rest on his shins, with his head over his thighs, letting his back stretch. “You're getting pretty good at that,” a woman's voice said. He turned his head toward the voice and opened his eyes. “I just noticed, is all,” she continued. He'd seen her around as well. She had a prosthetic foot, as she was recovering from a severe vehicle accident that had cost her the lower part of her left leg, among other injuries. “Thanks, Alice,” he said, a bit uncomfortably. “No worries,” she said. “I know how hard this can be. I've been coming here for over a year now. You've been working really hard, harder than anyone I've seen.” Harry's eyes got big. “How long did it take for you to be able to walk?” She scoffed. “Bugger walking! I'm going to run a 5K next year.” “You can run?” Incredulity filled his tone, but he immediately blushed. “I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking.” She just laughed. “I've heard it all before from my family. Don't worry about it. But, yeah, I can run a bit now. I used to run marathons, so running a 5K doesn't seem like a really big deal compared to where I was before the accident. But, compared to a year ago when I couldn't even walk, now I can run a mile or two at a time, and that seems like a big thing.” Emotions ran across Harry's face. “I was on my school's … football team. Some days, I can't even walk now.” She patted his arm. “How long has it been?” “About four months,” he said. It was Alice's turn to widen her eyes. She showed better emotional control than Harry, however. She was able to talk, and did not end up with her foot in her mouth. “You've come a long way. I'm impressed!” “I've had a lot of help.” She nodded. “Of course. It would be even harder to get through this kind of thing on your own. That's always been one of the hardest things for me to accept. I was always very independent, and it was hard to need help. Now, I'm getting that independence back, but it is slow going sometimes, especially if I break something on my hardware, or try too hard and pull a muscle or something.” “But you can run ,” he stated again. “Yes. I can now, only now. I walked first, and before that I used a cane, and before that crutches and a wheelchair.” He looked thoughtful for a few moments, and then gave her a very serious look. “Well, if you can run, then I'm going to run, too.” The conviction in his voice left no room for arguments. Alice's eyes got a little watery-looking, and she swallowed thickly before she patted his arm again, opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, nodded to him, and walked away. Ginny saw her wiping her eyes as she left the room, and got up from where she'd eavesdropped on the conversation to follow the older woman. Harry inhaled deeply as he watched them leave. He didn't really know Alice, even though he knew her name. She'd been working out at times when he'd come to the therapists, but this was the first actual conversation they'd ever had. And it was likely one of the most significant conversations of his life, he reflected. “The only limitations I really have are the ones I give myself, the ones that I take and accept. If she can walk and run without a leg, I can figure out how to do it with a little brain damage. Especially with all the help everyone is giving me,” he muttered as he thought about Isabel and whatever it was she'd done to him again. He gave the weight stack a good glare, grabbed hold of the cable handles, and went back to work. Ginny entered the women's lavatory, where she found Alice leaning over the sink, preparing to splash some water on her face. “Hey, are you alright there, Alice?” she asked as she walked across the tile. Alice gave a short laugh. “Sure, your young man just made me cry a wee bit, is all.” Ginny nodded. “I need to thank you.” “Me? Why?” she asked as she wiped her face on a towel. “You just inspired him. He's been kind of depressed lately, thinking that things are never going to get better. But you just showed him that things he thought were impossible, aren't, even if they're really hard.” “I didn't do anything,” she protested. “You didn't have to. Just being an example of someone who won't quit is quite enough.” “Jenny!” came a voice from outside the loo. “Are you in there?” “Yes, just a moment,” said Ginny. “You have a phone call,” said the voice. Ginny smiled at Alice as she turned to leave. “Really, thanks, Alice. You have no idea how much this means to us,” she said and walked out the door. “Hello, this is Jenny,” said Ginny as she took the handset from the receptionist. “Do you know where Norwood Hall Hotel is?” asked the familiar voice on the other end. Ginny swallowed her shock at the voice. “Erm, yes,” she said, a bit of a quaver in her voice. “Be there, in the lobby, at three. Get a room,” said the voice, and then she heard a click. *** Norwood Hall Hotel Snape swept in to the hotel lobby with all the presence and attention-grabbing glare of his former entrances into the dungeon potions workroom. The muggles in the lobby were not nearly so impressed as the impressionable eleven-year-olds Snape had tormented for so many years; most, in fact, did not notice him at all. Those who did saw a well-dressed man of early middle age stalk up to a young woman who definitely did recognize his presence. She was blonde, wearing a nurse's scrubs, and was pushing a wheelchair in which rode a man who appeared to be about Snape's own age. “Shall we go upstairs, then?” asked the man in the chair. Snape nodded once, a short, sharp cut of his head. “Take me to the room, Julie,” murmured the man in the chair. Without a word of greeting or even a glance toward Snape, the young nurse turned the chair toward the lift and pushed it on silent wheels across the marble floor. Snape followed them close behind, and into the lift. Snape's jaw was clenched, Harry noticed, and he seemed to almost vibrate with energy. He and Ginny exchanged a glance, rolled their eyes in unison, and continued to wait on the lift to raise them to their floor in silence. Once the lift door opened, Ginny walked Harry's chair down the hallway to their room. Snape followed them silently. The door closed with a quiet thunk. Snape drew his wand and threw off several privacy charms. That done, he stalked over to Harry, who was still sitting in his wheelchair. “What. Are. You. Up. To?” he demanded. Harry's eyebrow raised, and he stood, bringing his eyes nearly level with Snape's, thus negating the imposing position of having Snape hovering over him like an overgrown bat. “Headmaster, I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Harry quietly. Snape stared at him dangerously, then responded in an even softer voice, “I have received a report from France that mentioned a house your … “father” … is remodeling, which, coincidentally, is nearing completion.” Harry said nothing. “Imagine my shock. I also read that said house, evidently my house, needs to be inspected by your occupational therapist to ensure it has adequate accommodations for your special needs before you move into it,” Snape continued slightly louder. “I have also been informed that there is some concern that my house is too far from Aberdeen. It seems that my son has missed several appointments recently, in spite of his therapists' efforts to accommodate his new,” Snape's lips curled into a snarl, “martial arts training regimen, and might miss more if he lives over an hour away from the city, especially considering his most recent setback. “Imagine my dismay.” Snape's eyes glittered as he spoke, his glare boring into Harry's eyes the whole while. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it as Snape continued, “I have been assured that your attempt to drown yourself has not further damaged the few braincells which remain in your thick skull, and that your sudden ataxia seems to be improving.” Snape eyed Harry critically before abruptly turning and seating himself in a chair. He glared and gestured for Harry to also sit. Harry stumbled to the bed. Ginny joined him. Snape's eyes widened in alarm. “Potter,” he continued, “This is … How … You insist upon going off on your own and do not keep me informed of your whereabouts or activities. I do not understand how we are meant to work together toward our common goals under these conditions. I am in a very awkward position. I am meant to be your father, as far as the Muggle healers are concerned, yet I know so very little about what you are actually doing, or where you are actually living, that I cannot adequately even address the questions that they ask. “Tell me, why have you not been keeping your therapy appointments?” he asked. Harry and Ginny exchanged a brief glance, and then she started, “Headmaster, there are some things that have come up since we started living in Aberdeen that were unexpected. Did you know that James Potter's parents lived in the area?” Snape's eyes narrowed slightly. “No, I had no idea that the Potter family lived anywhere besides their ancestral lands in Exmoor.” Harry's eyebrows rose slightly before he nodded. “Well, actually, the 'Potter family' did not, but my grandmother was a native of this area, and my grandparents spent much of their time up here. The home that the therapists and Dr Jace understand that we are supposed to be moving into actually belonged to her. It was a wedding present from her family.” “And just how did you discover all of this? This seems very convenient, if not contrived.” “Well, Headmaster, it turns out that the owner of the martial arts school we are going to is a cousin of Harry's father. He grew up with Harry's grandparents.” “Are you going under your true names up here?” Snape asked, surprised. “No, he figured out who we are on his own because he knew my father quite well, since he watched him grow up, and recognized me as looking like my father.” “Besides, ever since we came up here, Harry has been acting oddly,” Ginny added. Brow furrowed, Snape asked, “How so? More oddly than since the Horcrux was removed?” “Yes, actually. I've been having dreams, strange ones about fights and history I'd never heard of, and I've been drawn to the land, to certain people, and especially to the rivers in this area.” “Harry's almost walked into the river more than once, and it's like he was in a trance or something when it happened. I had to physically restrain him a couple of times, when I couldn't get his attention.” Snape's expression showed increasing alarm as they spoke. “You should be immune to possessions, and should not be having dreams from the Dark Lord anymore! What is going on?” “They weren't dreams from … him, and I'm not possessed.” “How can you be certain? It could seem very like things that occurred to you to do were your own idea, or you could lose control of yourself and be in a trance-like state.” “Harry, you were not in control of yourself, but Headmaster, it wasn't really a possession.” “How can you be certain?” “One of the family members explained to me, while Harry was unconscious, that he was connecting to the family magic, and getting the family's history and magical connection to the land here imprinted on him. You know how you told us that magic here is odd, and that we would be safer because monitoring doesn't really work up here?” “Yes,” Snape replied slowly. “It's because of Harry's grandmother's family.” “How …” Snape began. “They've been here for … well, a really, really long time. Hundreds of years at least, maybe more than a thousand.” “At least a thousand years,” confirmed Harry. “At least, the oldest history I've seen in my dreams are from that far back, and what my relatives told me seems to be in line with that.” Snape leaned back in his chair, and said, “Tell me about your dreams.” “They are memories … experiences of my ancestors and other relatives who lived here. Just being here seems to trigger them, like they are imprinted on the magic of the area.” “But you never got that kind of thing when you were at Hogwarts.” “Well, Hogwarts is hardly in the same part of the country, even if it is in Scotland,” said Harry with an expressive eye roll that would have landed him in detention a year previous. This time, it merely elicited a head shake from Snape. “A fair point, I suppose.” “If I'd grown up here, I wouldn't be having them, either, I'm told, not as this age.” Snape nodded. “And the river?” “Apparently, the magic of this family is tied directly to the rivers that border the land they have traditionally inhabited. The children grow up fishing and swimming in the rivers, but I never was here, so … I guess I needed to take a dip in the river,” said Harry with a bit of a sheepish expression. “So, you fell into a trance and simply walked into the river,” said Snape. “Not … exactly,” said Harry slowly. “What, exactly?” demanded Snape. “We were crossing a bridge over one of the rivers, and the water swept up over the side and took him,” said Ginny. “What?” said Snape, startled. “It was like it was alive,” said Ginny. “I and another person were on the bridge with him, but the water just left us there and took Harry. I dove in after him, and then one of Harry's relatives was able to get us back out.” Snape looked at them contemplatively for a few moments. “Am I meant to accept this … fantasy?” “It's not a fantasy,” Harry insisted. Snape snorted. “That story has more holes through it than a boomslang skin shredder.” “You are more than welcome to meet some of the members of the family, if you wish to expose yourself like that,” said Ginny in a sweet tone. The sharp-eyed look she gave the professor reminded him of more than one moment when he was teaching her to apparate. Especially the moments when she did something that he wasn't sure she should have been able to do and then wordlessly challenged him to say something about it. He shook his head. “Of course, I cannot do that.” “No, that's probably not a very good idea,” said Harry. “Oh, on the other side of things, we found Remus.” Snape shook himself. “You found Lupin? How in Merlin's name did you do that? Have you been looking for him, when you agreed not to?” Harry rolled his eyes again. “No, Headmaster, he was actually here in the area. We brought Tonks up here from the safehouse she was in, and they are living with us at my grandmother's place.” Snape sat down in one of the armless chairs. “Well, that is a change, isn't it.” He face took on a contemplative expression for a time, while he said nothing. “This may actually work to our great advantage. Will this house of yours pass inspection? Will your therapist let you live there?” Snape asked. “No, they'd never approve of the stairs,” Harry replied. He hurriedly added, “I skip those, though, by apparating.” Snape raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Harry continued, “There is a house nearby that they would approve of and could pass the inspection. One of my cousins lives there and is willing to play hostess and act as my stepmother for the inspection. And it has a telephone.” Snape started to laugh, as Harry and Ginny stared at him. Neither had ever seen that level of levity from him, and in fact, as they exchanged glances, they realized that they had never heard of anyone witnessing such a thing. “She's going to pretend to be your step-mother.” “Yes,” answered a confused Harry. “You do realize, that means she will be pretending to be my wife,” Snape emphasized. “Yes,” said Harry again, beginning to understand, even as Ginny started trying not to laugh. “She's never even met me. What will her husband think about this?” “Well, the therapists have never met you, either, and she's not married anyway, so what difference will that make?” “How old is this … cousin of yours?” Snape asked, not bothering with answering Harry's question. Harry shrugged and looked at Ginny, who said, “We aren't really sure, but she's got a son who's about twenty-two, maybe twenty-five.” Snape nodded, his eyes narrow. “She'd be a bit older than I, but we can work with this,” he said abruptly. “I should like to meet this woman, and visit your new home at some point.” “Erm, are you sure, Headmaster? We'd just said that it wasn't a good idea for you to expose yourself,” said Harry with more than a bit of trepidation. Snape raised an eyebrow at him. Harry shrugged. “We wouldn't want you to be compromised, any more than we want to be exposed to the world right now,” he explained. “I am hesitant myself, but I believe that it would not be a mistake for me to meet at least one of the people who claim blood kinship to you,” Snape insisted. Harry's upper lip curled in a sort of amused smirk. “Oh, Headaster, I don't think you want to do what you're thinking of,” Harry said. “And what is it you believe I am thinking of?” “You're going to try to Legilimens her. Don't,” said Harry flatly. “You'll regret it if you do.” “Are you suddenly an expert on Occlumency, Potter?” sneered Snape. “I'm not and you know it, but she is.” “She'd kill you,” said Ginny suddenly. “They consider that a form of rape, sir.” He looked at her bleakly. “It can be, under some circumstances.” He looked between them for a moment. “I won't do anything untoward, but perhaps over Christmas, we can meet in a neutral place so that I can settle my mind over these people and your association with them.” “We might be able to arrange it, but … that will probably take some time,” said Harry slowly. Snape nodded. “Of course. When will the inspection by your therapists be?” “Soon,” said Ginny with a shrug. “Eirica will be ready in a couple of days to make nice for them.” “Not sure how worried we should be about the therapists, to be honest. My therapists are great, but really, other than strengthening and balance exercises, and stretching, they have no idea what to do with me.” “Certainly, that seems a complete waste of time, Mr. Potter. Surely, you don't need increased strength, flexibility, or balance,” Snape replied, glaring at Harry. Ginny had to bite her lower lip, while Harry glared back at Snape for a moment before his eyes lowered in embarrassment. “Let them do their inspection, make it as unremarkable as possible, and move on from there. You seem to have arranged it that way. I believe it would be best to allow that plan to carry through. “We must also discuss where to look for the Horcruxes. As you know, the Headmaster and I came to believe that the Dark Lord gave some of the items to certain of his followers for safekeeping, without disclosing their nature to them.” “Right. The question is, where did they end up? The one that Dumbledore and I went after the night he died wasn't actually there, and we all know how that turned out. Maybe some of the others have been moved in the meantime, as well.” “That is quite likely. In fact, I believe that the Dark Lord may have moved one from Hogwarts just before the school term,” said Snape. “What?!” said Harry and Ginny in the same breath, and with some alarm. Snape made an impatient gesture with his hands. “He visited the castle, and it is entirely possible that he had stored one of them there. I believe he may have removed it, as he would have had no other real reason to make the visit,” Snape explained. “Where would he have taken it? We think that the Death Eaters may have moved the others to Switzerland,” said Ginny. “Why?” “Someone noticed that some of the Death Eaters were leaving the bank and going to Europe. There are secure banks in Switzerland where they could have been stored,” she explained. Snape nodded. “Are you aware that there are secure banking systems in other countries?” “We hadn't considered that,” she replied slowly. “We'll have to do some more research, and see if we can figure out where they went after they went to the Continent, but we are fairly certain that was where we need to start looking,” Harry added. “It does make sense to start looking where you know they went,” Snape agreed, “but we need to be certain to not fixate on one thought and ignore the possibilities that exist outside our preferred theory. That type of crippled critical thinking has plagued wizards for generations, in many areas,” he concluded. Harry and Ginny both agreed with his comments, so they nodded. “I will attempt to discover if the Dark Lord actually removed something from the castle, and, if so, where he took it. “Now, while I am now certain that she moved it, I have not been able to discover what Bellatrix did with the Goblet. I have Narcissa at the castle now, and I believe I will be able to at least discover where she has been traveling.” “Whatever happened to the Carrows?” Harry wondered aloud. Snape's expression flickered darkly for a moment. “They are no longer at the castle, and the only person the Dark Lord sent to replace them was Narcissa. The students are much better off.” “I imagine so,” said Harry with a shudder. “Those two …” he trailed off. Ginny put her arm around his shoulders. “Amycus was the worst, besides Bellatrix,” he said, a bit of fire in his voice. Snape looked at them, standing there, and felt a strange pang of envy mixed with pity pass through him. “He won't be doing anything like that anymore,” he said softly. Harry looked at him questioningly. “Professor?” Snape gave a very slight shake of his head, and Harry nodded slowly. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “For what?” Snape replied, a sad, half smile on his face. *** Friday morning, November 28th Remus stared at Harry. “Have you completely lost your mind?” “What?” said Harry. He was so stunned at Remus's reaction, that was all he could say. “London? Really? What exactly is that going to accomplish besides getting you captured or killed? You can't run away from trouble, or fight. You can barely even walk.” Harry's jaw clenched. “What does that have to do with it? Look, we're going. I'm not asking your advice about whether we should, just for some pointers on how to do it without getting caught.” “That's the point, Harry. There's no way to do that,” said the werewolf, throwing his hands in the air. Harry growled. “Are you a Marauder, or what?” Remus growled right back. “What does that have to do with anything? Schoolboy pranks, that's all the Marauders ever were. Don't dream them into anything more than that.” “They were your friends,” Harry snapped. “And they're dead. The Marauders were friends, and a lot of fun, but it wasn't how we intended to live our lives, Harry. It was some fun we had in school, that's all.” “Sirius seemed to think it was more than that!” Remus recoiled as if he'd been slapped, and shrunk in on himself. After a moment, he slowly and quietly began to speak. “The Marauders planned things and did them together. Anytime any of us tried to do something alone, it always turned into a disaster. They were some of the best friends I'll ever have. What kind of friend would I be to your parents now, if I didn't say that it's pure idiocy to think of doing this, Harry?” As he continued, Remus's voice swelled in volume and passion. “Children going off to carry off some lunatic scheme like this, and I can't even go along to watch your backs, because I'm stuck here! You're going to get yourselves killed.” Harry glared, and started to inhale sharply for another retort, but subsided after Ginny touched his arm, unconsciously mimicking how Tonks was attempting to defuse Remus. “Mr. Lupin, Harry won’t be alone. We are going to Gringotts. We are asking for advice from everyone we can, but we are going regardless of how anyone else feels about it. If you want to be one of those who helps, we'll gladly accept your advice, but please, if you can't bring yourself to help us plan how to keep ourselves out of trouble, just say so and we'll stop talking to you about it. Your friendship is important to us, and we don't want to throw it away over something you can't change anyway.” Tonks answered for him. “Harry, Ginny, I just can't understand why you would think this is so terribly important, but if you want our help, we'll be glad to do anything we can, or offer you any kind of advice.” “We have some ideas already, but basically, what has to happen is that we have to get there, get in, take care of our business without attracting attention, get out again, and get clear of London.” Ginny's summary of the mission seemed a bit too lax and loose, even to her own ears, so she quickly added, “We have disguises and an approach and exit. We have two back-up plans for the exit.” Remus shook his head and closed his eyes. “How long do you need to be there?” “Not sure. It could take some time. We'd need to prepare to stay for a day, maybe two. We'll be heading for the Continent for Harry's appointment immediately after we're done in London.” “Alright. You'll need a place to stay in town, so you can get to Gringotts without apparating or using a portkey. Those can be traced, and definitely will be. This place needs to be out of the way, somewhere that won't catch attention.” “But, when we apparate, it actually can't be traced,” Harry said softly. “We avoid doing that, because we're usually trying to run as Muggles, but this time we can't, since our insertion plan requires it. Is there somewhere we could stay in Knockturn Alley? We know they're watching the Leaky, so that's out.” “Knockturn Alley? You have got to be kidding me!” Remus began, his voice rising in volume. “They're watching people everywhere,” Tonks interrupted. “That's why we've basically pulled everyone back to safehouses, not just the Muggleborns and their families. I don't think you understand the danger you're putting yourselves in. That safehouse we lost, the people there kept going places they shouldn't have, doing things they'd have been best leaving off. Remus is right, you know. It's … really not a good idea to go to town. Especially not the pair of you!” she said with a wave in their direction and a guilty glance at Harry. “You mean, it's not a good idea for me,” Harry said softly. “She means either of you,” Remus protested. “Merlin, Harry! Do you have any idea how powerless I feel right now?” “We're supposed to protect you. Neither one of us can right now, not there. Please, Harry, see reason,” Tonks begged. “We all have problems,” Harry said looking directly at Remus. “They aren't going away anytime soon, but we can't stop living our lives. Like it or not, this may be as good as I get, and I have responsibilities that can't wait any longer. It's been five months since Dumbledore . . .” Harry paused to take a deep breath before continuing, “and nearly four since my birthday. I am an adult, and there are things I have to do, Remus. Our disguises are good. They work. We know how to get in, and have legitimate business to attend to once we're there. We've stayed in London before. We are doing this.” “We've stayed at Grimmauld more than once. Why not there again?” suggested Ginny. Remus and Tonks both shook their heads. “Probably better to stay away from there. Too many people know about it, what with most of the Order knowing the secret, not to mention that sniveling sod of a Death Eater, too,” said Remus vehemently. Ginny had to restrain herself from defending Snape, let alone themselves, from the implied rebuke for using the place. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but a cautionary hand on his arm stopped him. The pair exchanged a quick glance and nod. “What do you suggest, Remus? If we can't use a place I actually own, then where?” Remus shrugged. “Anywhere, really. A Muggle hotel room, an abandoned warehouse, or a house or flat. Even a closet in a house would do, with some expansion charms. Wouldn't be very big, but it would be a place to sleep until you're done with whatever stupid thing you have to do in London.” Harry looked up, startled. The possibilities of places to hide out had just expanded exponentially in his thoughts. His eyes found Ginny's, who was just as startled by Remus's ideas. Neither said anything for a moment. “Well, I suppose we've got some ideas of how to do this, then,” Ginny said. “Thank you, Remus, Tonks,” she said. “This really means a lot to us, even though you don't want us doing this.” As they walked back to their own rooms in the Tower, Ginny gripped Harry's hand tightly. She dragged him swiftly to their door, and pulled him inside. “We could hide anywhere. Literally anywhere. Do you know how huge this is?” “Yeah. But it also means that they could hide anywhere, too. Or in anything.” She stopped and looked at him for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” He got a puzzled look on his face. “If you can do that, though, why are there all these big mansions and houses? Why this castle?” She shrugged. “Expansion charms have to be based on something. You know charms aren't stable over time if they haven't got a realistic anchor. The Burrow is held together by wards and charms, but it isn't really very big. A castle like this is much more involved, because it's meant for defense, so the more real structure it has to base its wards on, the better. Most wizards can’t cast the kind of serious wards and charms that a structure needs themselves and would have to pay experts to do it for them, so only the really wealthy and powerful get into having places like manors and castles. I suppose it's partly for status or intimidation,” Ginny said, wrinkling up her nose. “It’s not really the same thing, though. You can't compare full-sized buildings, covered in generations of family wards, to an expanded space shoved into a closet, or a hidden space like your knife sheath. Those kinds of charms and wards have to be anchored to something solid that is adequate and comparable to the use being applied to it for it to take the strain over time.” “Well, you're right, of course,” Harry said as he kissed Ginny's nose. “What do you think about a place to stay in London?” “I haven't heard anything to convince me not to use one of the regular hotels, like we have been before. I think I'd like to visit Grimmauld Place soon, as well, just to check on it.” Harry shrugged. “We can just send Kreacher to check on Grimmauld Place, but I think you're right about the hotels. Let's just use someplace convenient. I think we're ready, so let's just … get the things we need, and go to London.” “The bus, you think? Or shall we hire a car?” Harry shook his head. “Train, I reckon. Let's get our bags, apparate to the flat in Aberdeen, and get on our way from there.” “Today?” she asked, surprised. “But, you've got therapy.” He shook his head again. “No, it's going to take several days no matter when we leave, and we need to get this done. We'll call from the flat and cancel therapy until we get back, and message Ron to let him and Moody know we're starting, so they can be ready to back us up. Sooner we leave, sooner it's done and we can be on to whatever's next.” “Which will be getting you back on your therapy session schedule,” said Ginny sternly. “Yeah, sure,” he shrugged. “We'll be back. It's not like they're going anywhere, anyway.” Ginny stared at Harry for a moment before mumbling, “True enough.” It seemed no time at all, once they actually got moving, before they were sitting in a hotel in London, planning disguises for the coming days. *** Harry cringed as he looked at the last item of his completed disguise. A distinguished-looking gentleman's cane, it looked far too much like Lucius Malfoy's swagger cane-cum-wand holder for his comfort, but he wanted to be absolutely certain of his gait, so a cane had to be included, and it needed to match his disguise. As they made their way through the morning, they finally realized that all their fears were basically for naught. The preparation and planning that they had done, not to mention all their experience walking about in disguise, made the journey from their hotel to Knockturn Alley, and from there to Gringotts, generally anti-climactic once they got past the adrenaline their nerves kept shooting into their bloodstreams every time someone passed them. They walked down the street from the tube station hand in hand, keeping close to each other and looking about apprehensively. No one else seemed to care a fig about them, however, as most of the gazes simply slid off or across them without comprehending or appearing to recognize them as of any significance. “Moody's charm seems to be working,” Ginny muttered under her breath. “Of course. Paranoid old bugger wouldn't give us a bogus charm,” replied Harry at the same low volume. They removed one of their charms as they entered a nondescript cafe and sat in a booth near the front window, but set back in a shadow. They ordered tea and scones when the waiter came by their table. Once the breakfast was delivered, they talked in low voices as they ate, just another couple having breakfast in the cafe. Across the street, they discreetly kept an eye on the area they knew Diagon and Knockturn Alleys were located, but could not discern anything notable going on from the muggle side of the wards. After they'd eaten, Harry looked at Ginny and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged, and nodded. Leaving a few pounds on the table, Harry took her arm and they stepped out the door and into a nearby alley. The disguises of the morning consisted primarily of particular clothing choices, makeup, and hair dye. Ginny's hair was a honey blonde going gray, matched by the suggestion of fine crow's feet by her eyes. Harry had gone fully gray for the morning, and together, they resembled nothing more than an aging couple out for a morning stroll. However, in the alley, they removed wizard robes from the bottomless handbag Ginny had borrowed from Eirica and donned them, finishing with Harry's invisibility cloak over the lot. The most frightening moment of the morning was almost their undoing. After restoring Moody's special, auror-grade Notice-Me-Not charm and adding overall Silencing charms to themselves, the pair apparated to the roof of a bar in the red light district of Knockturn Alley. Popping into the air above the building, Harry found his feet on the pitched side of a damp, slightly moulding slate roof and immediately started sliding on the nearly ice-slick surface. Ginny reached out to grab him, but only succeeded in getting hold of his arm before he fell and dragged her down with him, and they started to slowly slide together toward the edge of the roof as their mission to Gringotts seemed to be turning into a slow-motion train wreck. Harry shut his eyes in panic and apparated again. The tiny jump landed them between the two buildings below, jammed up against a dank stone wall in a tangle of limbs, bruises, and cloaks. Fortunately, their charms held, even with Harry's invisibility cloak flapping loose. Ginny slipped it back into the rucksack as they silently untangled themselves, healed the visible scrapes, removed the grime their clothes had collected on the roof, canceled their stealth charms, and made their way from between the two businesses and into the Alley proper. *** Harry and Ginny's arrival at the bank was not noted significantly. The guards at the doors, and several of the goblin tellers, eyed the disguised couple from the corners of their eyes, but said nothing. No gong sounded on their entrance, nothing untoward happened to their disguises, and no obsequious account manager greeted them with disturbing prescience at the counter. Harry simply showed his key to a teller, and asked to be shown to his vault. A goblin approached from behind the counter, and, without introducing himself, escorted them to a cart. They rode through the caverns at breakneck speed, just as Harry had experienced every time he'd visited the bank. “Key,” demanded the goblin driver with his hand thrust toward Harry when they arrived at the vault. Other than warning them not to stick body parts they were fond of out of the cart while it was in motion, it was the first thing he'd said to either of them. Harry handed him the key, and the goblin turned his back to them while he stepped up to the door. Torches in sconces to either side of it lit as he approached, and he silently unlocked, unsealed, and opened the door. Harry and Ginny made to enter the vault, but the goblin held his hand up. “Only the vault holder,” his harsh, guttural voice insisted. “My wife will enter with me,” countered Harry firmly. The goblin's dark, glittering eyes considered them for a moment in the gloom of the cavern, darting back and forth between them, before he inclined his head and stepped aside. Harry paused as he passed the goblin. “My key,” he said, his hand outstretched. The goblin sneered, but dropped it into his hand. “I'll need it to lock the door, you know.” Harry nodded shortly, took Ginny's hand, and stepped inside. As soon as they entered, candles and torches lit throughout the chamber, and both of them paused just inside the entrance. “Whoa,” said Ginny softly. “That's a lot of gold, Harry.” “Yeah, a lot more than last time I was here,” he replied, a shocked look on his face as he looked about at the chamber. “How much was here last time?” “Erm, just … this bit, here,” he said, pointing to a small mountain of Galleons near the door. “There were a few sickles and knuts about, but in the main, that was about it. And the vault was smaller, too. It was only a bit larger than the gold.” They turned to contemplate the remainder of the vault. It consisted primarily, and most noticeably, of three huge piles of gold coins that each completely dwarfed the mound by the door, like the Great Pyramids of Giza dwarfing the smaller tombs that surround them. There was also a small pile of sickles and knuts, a set of shelves of precious gems, cups, and other sundry incredibly valuable-looking baubles, a set of loaded-down bookshelves as tall as the stacks in the Hogwarts library that extended along one cut stone wall, a plinth and pillar with a closed, ancient tome sitting on it, dozens of pieces of furniture covered in dust cloths, several large trunks stacked in one corner, and a rack of ancient bladed weapons and armor, including two sets that had to be intended for a riding animal larger than any horse. Portraits, paintings, rolls of Persian carpets, and tapestries on every spare wall space completed the vault's contents. Compared to the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the vault wasn't really large, but it was still several times larger than the Dursley's entire house. “The bag's supposed to be bottomless, Harry, but I don't know how much of this is going to actually fit.” “It'll hold enough. We don't need all that much compared to …” he trailed off, and gestured to the large stone chamber. “Remember, we didn't know how much was going to be here in the first place. I was only really counting on what was here before, and we figured that would be more than enough to run about on for quite a while, right?” Ginny exhaled softly. “Right, but all of this is just … I didn't really believe them when Duncan and Eirica said how much …” “Well, we don't know where it all came from, do we? It could be just from my family, or just from Sirius, or both, or neither.” She inhaled sharply. “Right. Let's get some gold, then,” she said, and opened the handbag as she set it on the floor next to the smallest pile of gold in the vault. It didn't all fit. In fact, it wasn’t even a close thing, but as Harry did a little rough mental math, he realized that they’d just stuffed nearly half a million pounds’ worth of gold into the little bag. Harry stepped to the door and found the goblin picking his teeth with a dagger. “Excuse me, could you tell me how I get an accounting of the holdings in this vault?” The goblin flicked his knife into a sheathe in his sleeve and stepped up to the door, still sneering at Harry. “The vault account ledger is right there, wizard,” he said, pointing at the ancient book on the pillar. “Will you be much longer?” “Can I take it with me?” The goblin snarled. “Of course not, it is bound to the chamber. If you wish to examine it, you must do it here. For a fee, we can make a copy of your monthly statement. That, you may take with you.” “There wasn't this much gold and other things here before,” Harry said suggestively. “There was a large transfer to this vault in the past year. The vault holder inherited the personal possessions and gold of his godfather, which have been moved into this vault. He also came of age to have access to the remainder of his parents' possessions, so the wall sealing off the childhood trust money from the true vault was removed to reveal the remainder of the family holdings.” Harry started. “You know,” but the goblin cut him off with a harsh growl and shake of his head. “Of course, we do, but there are things that are not safe to speak of out loud, even here, wizard. Now. The godfather of the vault holder had other, family holdings that were not transferred to this vault, but were a part of the overall inheritance. If the vault holder is wise, he will request a full copy of the monthly statement.” Harry nodded. “That sounds very prudent, I should think.” The goblin nodded in agreement. “It will be so.” Ginny, wandering about the vault, stopped to examine the shelves of glittering valuables. She picked up a delicate gold filigree pendant on a light rope chain, and smiled involuntarily as she laid the piece in her left hand while the fine links of gold draped slickly over her fingers. From there, she walked past the displays of armor on racks, and then stroked the simple wood handle of a short dagger. Picking it up, she tested its balance and flipped it several times between a forehand and ice-pick grip. Nodding to herself in a satisfied way, she walked toward the vault entrance. The goblin's glittering eyes stopped her before she exited the door. “I must advise that, while the other items in the vault are valuable and desirable, and the vault holder has every right to remove them at will, many of them are also … somewhat well known as belonging to previous holders of this vault, or to the current vault holder's godfather. Seeing them outside this vault might elicit … rumors.” Ginny paused, and then set the items back in their places and returned to the door. The goblin inclined his head approvingly. “Less well-known things can be purchased, if they are needed or desired.” The vault ride to the surface level was just as hair-raising as the ride down, if a bit slower. The nameless goblin escorted them to an office on the way to the lobby, and after a whispered conversation with the gray-haired goblin occupying it, was handed a scroll which he, in turn, delivered to Harry. The escort then turned toward the door and beckoned for Harry and Ginny to follow him. As they turned to leave the office, the older goblin said, in a reproving tone, “Future inquiries and withdrawals may be more … efficiently accomplished by owl, or elf, wizard. At least, for the time being, vault holders may find it more prudent to avoid our halls.” Harry paused at his words, and turned back toward the older goblin. “I did send a proxy before, but he wasn’t able to accomplish much of the business I requested of him and the bank.” “The proxy you chose did not have the proper authorizations for what he said he was asked to do. Besides which, he is on a paid administrative leave of absence, and should not return to the bank at the present time. Please inform him of this. If you would send your elf, or a secure owl, all transactions you require should be easily accommodated.” “And if I were traveling, say on the Continent. Is there a Gringotts branch that I could access in Switzerland, or Italy?” The older goblin looked at him with an even gaze. “Gringotts is a British bank, wizard. If you wish to establish a relationship with a financial institution in Switzerland, or elsewhere on the Continent, I respectfully suggest that you contact one there. There are several that should suit your needs,” he continued as he removed a pamphlet from one of the drawers in his desk and pushed it across the surface toward Harry. As Harry stepped back to the desk and picked up the pamphlet, he looked at the goblin curiously, but elderly-appearing banker had returned to examining a large ledger and did not further acknowledge Harry's presence in the slightest. “Come, wizard. Your business here is concluded,” the nameless escort insisted, and ushered them through the lobby and out the door with no further comment. *** Harry and Ginny walked down the bank steps with thoughtful looks on their faces. At the bottom of the steps, they paused and looked at each other. Ginny raised an eyebrow, Harry shrugged and shook his head, and they turned to walk with confident, almost arrogant steps down Diagon Alley back towards Knockturn Alley. The street was rather sparsely occupied, with several of the shops being closed and shuttered completely, including Quality Quidditch Supply. Ollivander’s was notable by its burnt-out state, but none of the other shops were obviously damaged, they were just … closed, or unpopulated. Florean’s appeared abandoned, the bookstores and apothecary seemed to have few customers, and the open eating establishments had diminished down to two. As they passed the apothecary's shop, a young woman, who appeared to be fifteen or sixteen, stumbled out of the door into the street in front of them, followed shortly by a large man in a dark grey cloak. Harry and Ginny exchanged a quick glance as the man took rough hold of the girl’s shoulder, his wand tip pointed at her face. Harry paused, but Ginny urged him to keep moving. “I’ll deal with this when I get you home, ya stupid bint!” His low voice barely carried the short distance to them, but for Harry, it was enough. “Oi, what do you think you’re on about?” he said sternly. “Here, now, you can’t go shoving the girl about like that.” The wizard turned to him furiously, his wand half-raised. “You’ll watch your mouth, old man, if you know what’s good for you!” “Oh, what are you going to do? Shove me?” scoffed Harry. “I'm not a little girl. Will you need to get a friend, then?” He felt Ginny stepping slightly to the side as he exchanged words with the wizard. “Harry?” said the girl in a timid, soft voice. Her face, which had been hidden by a curtain of black locks and a slumped, defeated pose, rose as she turned to face them, confusion marring her features more than the revealed bruises when she caught sight of her defender. Ginny, shocked at the appearance of her bruised face, involuntarily started and said, “Demelza!?” in an incredulous voice. “We'd heard you died!” The wizard next to the girl backhanded her across the face, knocking her flat onto the cobbled street, and turned back to Harry, his wand aimed directly at Harry’s face. “Harry, is it? Well, Harry, you just bought yourself a pack of trouble you’ll not soon forget.” Harry’s mind stilled from his fury at the blow to the girl almost instantly. He felt Ginny’s spike of fury simmer to a quiet, roiling anger and then, in just a moment, her emotions also stilled to a calm, coiled readiness. They did not even exchange a glance as Harry silently readied himself. Without a verbal or physical cue, and just as the wizard began to twist his wand and mutter an incantation, they both disapparated. Ginny popped back into existence behind Demelza, grabbed hold of her arms, and instantly apparated away again. Harry appeared mere inches behind the wizard just as his wand shot a jet of too-familiar purple light through the empty air in front of him. The spell impacted the stone of the building they’d been in front of and arced an impressive display of sparks that left a blackened scorch and deep gouge on the wall. Before he had a chance to recover from the sudden disappearance of his target, Harry hooked his left forearm across the wizard’s throat at the same instant as he thrust his long dagger through the wizard’s right kidney. The man’s back arched in shock and pain, and his mouth opened in a wordless, silent scream as all the muscles in his torso locked in a sympathetic contraction, making it impossible for him to breathe. Harry withdrew the blade from his back and flipped it around into an icepick grip. At the same time, he took a slight step to the left with his left foot and dropped his weight down into a lower stance. The wizard’s knees started to bend in response to the weight on his back, and just as he began to struggle to inhale to scream in earnest, the long dagger entered his chest between his collarbone and neck in a downward thrust which deflated the upper lobe of his right lung, severed his trachea and bisected his heart. The wizard dropped to his knees and started to fall forward before Harry had a chance to release his neck, which forced Harry to drop to one knee beside him. The wizard continued to collapse to the cobblestones, which dragged Harry, who still clung to the wizard's neck and the grip of his long knife, the rest of the way to the ground along with the suddenly lax body. Ginny apparated back while Harry pulled his arm free and struggled to recover his knife. Ginny, a few feet to his left, had her wand in her left hand and sword in her right, poised to attack. “Is he …” she began, but stopped at his abrupt nod. “Yeah,” he said with a grunt as his knife came free. He awkwardly wiped at the blade with the man's cloak, but gave it up and turned away from him to push himself off the cobblestones. “We need to get out of here. Where’d you take her?” “The hotel.” He nodded. “We’ll need to move, then,” he said. “Right. Let’s grab her and get out of town,” she replied as she sheathed her wand and sword and started toward him. He shook his head. “Get his wand, love,” he said with a wave as he came to his knees. He waved his hand a second time, but with a bit more purpose. His cane immediately came up off the pavement where he'd abandoned it when he apparated and floated to his hand. Ginny rolled her eyes as she snatched the wand from a street drain where it had stopped, and then returned to Harry's side. “Remember, it's two jumps, and I'm not taking a break, so don't let go,” she warned as she grabbed his forearm and pulled him the rest of the way to his feet. She shifted to put an arm around his waist, and with a slight puff of air, they disappeared. *** After Ginny's promised set of apparition jumps, they reappeared in a small hotel room, which contained only one bed, a cheap pair of chairs, telly and table, all on a stained, worn carpet. Demelza was sitting on the bed. She looked up at them for a moment with a terrified expression when they popped in, and then immediately back down. Ginny moved over to her, while Harry pulled his knife out and wiped it off on the lone white towel. Demelza's eyes got huge at the sight of the blood. “Who was that man, Demelza?” asked Ginny gently. “Is he …” Demelza started to say, in a very small voice. “He won't be a problem again,” said Harry dismissively as he checked the edge of his knife and then re-sheathed it. “We need to go, Ginny. Let's get her changed, glamoured, and us in different disguises, too.” Demelza shuddered as Ginny applied a series of bruise reducing charms to her face, and healed a couple of small cuts. Harry, meanwhile, had opened their ever-present rucksack and begun pulling clothes from it. “Manchester United, Gin?” “Should be fine to start.” He stuffed his blazer, shirt, and trousers into a plastic bag he pulled from the rubbish bin in the room. Demelza blushed and turned her face away when she saw him standing there wearing only his pants, but he didn't even notice as he pulled a pair of jeans and trainers out of the rucksack. He sighed as he dropped his cap-toed leather shoes into the bag as well before he pulled on the clean clothing. He pulled on a football fan's jersey, and then tossed a pair of smaller jerseys on the bed for Ginny and Demelza. A leather jacket for himself, wool pea coat for Demelza, and a Manchester warm-up for Ginny set them up for the cold weather. Then, he went to the mirror which sat atop the bureau. With a few quick swipes of a hairbrush, the gray he'd added to his hair was mostly gone in crumbles to the floor. A swish of his wand vanished the evidence, even as he tossed the brush back into the bag, and pulled out a makeup kit. The only things he pulled out of it were some makeup remover and a clean rag. It took him just a few moments to remove the subtle suggestions of wrinkles and hollows that aged his face from a seventeen-year-old young man to something that, combined with the grayed hair, kept anyone from guessing what his actual age might have been. “That's me done, I think, Gin, but you need to fix your face still. Should we do anything with that?” he asked, gesturing to Demelza's largest, most visible facial bruise. It had only shrunk in size from Ginny's ministrations, not faded away like most of the other damage to the girl's face. “I'll take care of it, love. Clear up the bill while I get her made up and changed, yeah?” Harry nodded and kissed her forehead as he walked past the two girls to the door. “Gin, put all of her clothes, even her knickers and bra, in that rubbish bag with mine,” he said as he opened the door. “Right, there's new things in the bag. I've got it, love,” she answered, and he closed the door behind him. He smiled softly when he heard the soft squelching sound of a Colloportus sealing the door. It was a short walk to the lift. While he rode it down to the lobby level, he pulled out his medallion and sent a short message to Ron and Moody. RW — Picked up a stray, checking for fleas. Alt 3, 20 min. Best. HnG The ground-floor door to the lift was only a few steps from the front desk. In no time at all, he’d dealt with the bill, requested that they call for a taxi, and returned upstairs. Ginny was just finishing up with the concealing the worst of the bruise with some makeup when he walked back in. Both of the girls had changed their clothes, so Harry finished with packing away everything else but the makeup. As soon as Ginny finished with the makeup kit, she put it in the bag and slung it on her back. “There should be a taxi for us downstairs soon,” said Harry as he picked up the rubbish bag and took Ginny’s hand. “Where are you taking me?” asked Demelza in a small, tremulous voice. “Do you know where my mum and dad are?” Harry and Ginny shared a brief, stricken look. Harry looked at Demelza compassionately. “We’re taking you to some friends, Demelza. Do you still have your wand?” He continued after a brief pause, “No? I didn’t think that they would leave you with it. We’ll try to get you one. “I can’t say for sure about your parents, now that we know you’re okay, but what we’d heard … well, we’d heard that everyone in your safehouse was killed. That’s why we were so surprised to see you in Diagon Alley today. We can talk about this some more later, but for now, we need to clear out of here and make sure no one knows where you are.” Harry set the room key on the table next to the telly, and they all walked out of the room. The three of them went down the side stairwell and out into the alley to the side of the building. They dropped the plastic bag into the large waste bin there, and walked to the street in front of the hotel for their taxi. A couple of minutes after they got there, the car pulled up, and they left. They got dropped off at a pub several miles from the hotel, ordered some food to go, and then walked around to the back of the pub, where they activated the first portkey Eirica had given them. *** Harry and Ginny appeared with wands in hand. Each held Demelza by opposite arms, but they immediately released her. “Did you check her before we left the hotel, love?” asked Harry quietly. Ginny looked at him briefly. “Oh, erm, yes. She had two traces on her clothes, but we tossed those, so there shouldn't be anything else.” She turned to Demelza. “Harry has to check you for traces and malignant spells before we go any further,” she reassured her. “The man we're meeting said we both had to check anybody that we decided to let tag along with us,” Harry explained a bit apologetically as he turned to her with his wand. “Yeah, but he's a bit paranoid,” said Ginny as she stepped away from Demelza. “Go ahead, then. Demelza, he's just going to check to make sure I cast all of those detection charms on you correctly before.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Like Ginny said, just going to make sure that bastard didn't leave any nasty presents behind,” he said reassuringly. Demelza didn't look reassured; if anything, she looked like she was about to cry. Harry looked a bit confused, but he still cast several detection spells on her. No reactions came from the spells for detecting magical traces or malicious punishments. As an afterthought, he cast a couple of medical diagnostic spells on her. He jumped as one of the spells showed a positive result. “Ginny, did you try this one?” he asked slowly, pointing at the glowing spell. “Which one … oh, Merlin. No, I didn't do any general diagnostics, I just checked her for other injuries.” Demelza's near-to-weeping face broke into real tears. “Demelza?” asked Ginny softly, “did you know ...” Demelza nodded, and her whole frame started to jerk in spasms as she wept. “Who …” muttered Harry, as he trailed off. “Who do you think?” Demelza choked out. Harry and Ginny looked at each other. “Nothing to be done for it now, and we need to get moving,” said Harry softly in Ginny's ear. Ginny nodded, and wrapped her arm over Demelza's shoulders. “I'll meet you there, love,” she said, and disapparated. Harry's fists clenched as he stood there alone, and his face started to darken as he breathed slowly, in and out. “That utter bastard,” he said softly, vehemently, as the dry, dormant grass beneath his feet began to smoke and char. His futile rage at the dead man scorched a wide circle around his feet before he reigned himself in. He apparated to the next point on their trip when he felt himself able to do so without leaving parts behind. Ginny and Demelza were there waiting for him. He didn't say anything to them, just wrapped an arm around each girl's shoulders and started walking down the cobbled streets of the small town they had arrived in. They stopped at the entrance to a bus station. Ginny met Harry's eyes questioningly, and he nodded at the door. They walked inside, stepped behind a pillar, and activated the first of Moody's two portkeys. *** “What happened? Are you hurt? Are you being followed?” demanded Moody, wand out and scanning their surroundings. Harry shook his head. “Only one person would have followed us, and he was in no condition to do that. We used two apparition jumps, three portkeys, and a Muggle taxicab, besides checking and clearing her for tracking charms.” “Who is this, then?” asked Moody gruffly as he lowered his wand. Ron could only stare in shock at the girl, as Ginny answered, “Demelza Robbins.” “They all think you died,” said Ron, still staring at Demelza. She flinched away at his words. “Yes, well, evidently they kept her for entertainment purposes instead of killing her when they took down that safehouse,” snapped Ginny. “Alright, then,” grumped Moody. “You take this, and we'll take her,” he said, holding out yet another portkey, “since she can't go with you. What's the man going to say he saw?” Harry had a hard look on his face. “Nothing. He won't be saying anything.” “Memory charms can be broken, lad,” said Moody. “Good job that he's dead, then,” said Harry shortly. Moody nodded. “Where did all this happen?” “In Diagon Alley,” said Ginny, since Harry's jaw was clenched. “Most of the shops were closed, and no one else was visible on the street. We changed disguises before we moved out.” Moody just seemed to accept it, though. “Have to get her to a safehouse, or out of the country would be even better, I suppose, since someone was killed. I hope you got your business taken care of at the bank. Be stupid for any of us to go back to the Alley any time soon, now. They'll be cracking down security like no-one's business.” Harry took the portkey with a sigh, and said, “The bank was fine, though even they said not to come back. This all happened after.” Ginny whispered in Demelza's ear as she walked her over to Ron. “Just go with them, they'll keep you safe. You can't stay with us, but they can get you someplace no one will hurt you.” Harry stepped close to Moody. “Moody,” Harry said quietly, a warning in his voice, “the bastard … She's pregnant.” Moody's face took on an uglier expression than Harry had ever seen on him. “You sure he's dead?” Harry nodded. “Stabbed him through the heart with a big damn knife. He was dead when he hit the ground.” Moody took a long breath. When he let it out, he seemed to have calmed somewhat. “Who was it?” Harry gave an eloquent shrug. “Big, ugly bloke. Never saw him before.” “Right. Good work, then. I'll make sure nothing happens to her,” he promised. “She doesn't have a wand, and the only extra one I have right now belonged to him.” “She wouldn't want it, I expect. Keep it. May come in handy. I'll get her sorted, don't worry. We need to move, lad,” he said as he turned to Ron. “We'll portkey from here. Keep in touch,” he nodded to Harry as he stumped over to Ron and Demelza. *** “So, I was thinking,” said Harry. “Shocking,” interrupted Ginny. Harry snorted. “As I was saying. What if we went to Switzerland first?” “Interesting. We do have a couple of extra days before your appointment with Dr Jace, since London didn't take nearly as long as we were thinking.” “Exactly, and it would get us ahead on taking care of our business with the banks there, and we might even have some time to look around and see if we can make any discoveries about Bellatrix and the others.” “So, the train again? Or do you want to fly this time?” asked Ginny. “The train, I think. And I guess I'll use the chair,” he added reluctantly. “Oh, do you want me to be the nurse again?” “No, I don't want to be old this time. We just did old at Gringotts. I'm nervous to use anything we did in London again.” She looked at him, considering. “No, we should do the young married thing again, I think. And, we should go all the way through to Switzerland on the train, maybe get a Swiss pass this time, in case we have time to tour around a bit.” “Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking.” She sighed as she fingered her hair. “I guess it's time to give up being blonde. Sure would be convenient to be able to change color like Tonks does.” Harry choked back a laugh, but nodded in agreement. He shifted uncomfortably before asking, “What do you think about getting a sleeper compartment, at least for while when cross France? I'm knackered.” “I think I'd like that. Why don't you go take a nap while I get my hair fixed? We can go get tickets after that.” He smiled. “What color are you going to go this time?” “Wouldn't you like to know?” she smirked. “I vote red,” he said firmly. “We'll see,” she said. “People are looking for us, love.” “I know,” he said, disappointed. “I just miss it.” He reached out and slipped his fingers through the hair over her ear. “It glows, like it's on fire when the sun comes through it.” *** Harry met Ginny's eyes across the lobby, lingered for just a moment, and slid away back to the man escorting him through the bank. Her eyes followed him until he passed through the door at the back of the room. She smiled at the bank officer who was still explaining the details of her loan application, and signed the paper he placed in front of her. He folded up several sheets and placed them in an envelope. She accepted the envelope, thanked him for his assistance, and then walked cross the room to the lavatory. She walked to the second-to-last stall, the one almost by the wall, went inside, and applied a variation of Moody's special Notice-Me-Not charms to the door. Once she’d locked the door, she pulled a walnut-sized stone from her handbag and held it in her left hand as she sat on the edge of the toilet seat. Taking a deep breath, she put the tip of her wand to the key rune carved into the surface of the stone. She closed her eyes and started to mutter. The tip of her wand started to glow as she directed a precise amount of power toward the stone, and the rune glowed dully in response. After two minutes, the stone’s entire surface glowed, revealing a dozen or more runes carved into its surface, and each now pulsing a dim blue. Nodding in a satisfied manner, she applied a sticking charm to the back of the toilet tank and gently touched the stone to the porcelain. It didn’t budge after she released it, so she slipped her wand into her sleeve, with the tip just extending into her palm. She then closed her bag, flushed the toilet, and stepped out into the lavatory proper again. As she pressed the stall door closed, she silently applied a locking spell through the tip of the wand. Satisfied that the stone was reasonably secure behind the locking spell and Notice-Me-Not, quickly left the bank. Ginny clutched her coat around her body against the chill wind as she crossed the road to the cafe that faced the front of the bank. As soon as she entered, she was shown to a table, and the tea she requested appeared almost silently at her elbow, along with a small plate of biscuits. She nodded thanks to the waiter, and as he left, she casually brushed her hair behind her ear. As she did so, her hand touched the blue stone hanging on her left earring. Immediately, she heard Harry’s voice saying something, and then an unfamiliar man’s response. She smiled lightly and pulled a book from her handbag as she settled in to read and wait for Harry to finish exploring how business was conducted in a non-wizarding Swiss bank. She'd been sitting there for nearly ten minutes when the skin between her shoulder blades started crawling. Her eyes narrowed fractionally, as her scalp started to crawl as well. She casually flicked her hair over her shoulder to cover turning her head, and immediately met the eyes of a dark-haired man on the other side of the cafe, who was staring at her fixedly. Her eyes widened in recognition. A Death Eater, in a Muggle cafe, thousands of miles from England, and here she sat in plain sight, with red hair, almost like she wanted to get caught, all because Harry said he missed waking up to fire in the sunlight. Cursing silently, she saw him immediately start to get up from his table. She dropped the biscuit in her hand to the table as she rose from her seat and pulled some random bills from her pocket. The waiter intercepted her as she strode to the front door, but was mollified by a brief apology in French and handful of money. The other waiter was not so lucky. Ginny heard a commotion behind her as she rushed out the door, and glanced over her shoulder to see the dark-haired man stopped momentarily in the aisle, loud voices raised, and then the waiter was knocked flying as the dark-haired man started again for the closing door. Ginny's walk immediately turned into a flat-out run as she fled down the street, away from the cafe, and the bank. |
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