|SIYE Time:4:52 on 14th August 2018|
Love Enough for Both
By Manwe Valarian
- Text Size +
Category: Alternate Universe
Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Summary: Harry heard a goblin speaking and he came out of temporary stupor. He was surrounded by witches and wizards all staring at him. The most shocking thing was he had his arms around someone. Who was she and how did they get here?
Hitcount: Story Total: 128985; Chapter Total: 2490
Awards: View Trophy Room
Hello everyone, it has been a long time since the last chapter. I feel I need to write about this story, When I started it, what seems like, a long time ago, I never imagined it stretching out to this many chapters. However, it has grown to this size because I wanted to focus on how Harry and Ginny's Soul bond might affect all the characters.
As I was writing this chapter, I kept thinking that this was going to be rather boring to everyone. I could have ignored many of the story arcs in the chapter, but I wanted you readers to see what Voldemort's coup has done to many established members of the society.
I need to thank Leif for his Beta work, even though he has been very busy, and words of encouragement for telling me that this isn't a boring chapter.
Barnabas Cuffe Flooed into his office at the Daily Prophet. He was still in his night clothes and hadn’t even taken his first sip of tea. He started running as fast as he could towards Brian Bradshaw’s desk. He could see from across the open space that Bradshaw was sound asleep. That idiot has just angered the wrong person, if one could call the new King of Magic a person.
Greyback came and collected Bradshaw yesterday to help serve the new King of Magic. There would not be mercy shown to Bradshaw and him after the Daily Prophet announced that Harry Potter was still alive and leading the resistance to overthrow the government. Add to the fact that Potter and the Order of Phoenix killed some of Voldemort’s trusted servants.
Barnabas had built this paper up to the largest paper in magical Britain. He may have catered to sensationalism, but that is what the public wanted. It was all going to be destroyed because of the actions of some stupid twenty-year old reporter who thought everyone wanted truth in journalism. The people never wanted the truth. They want to read what they prefer to believe. The readers were the ones that determine what was the truth. If they want to believe that the King of Magic was their salvation, then he was the savior of the world. It doesn’t matter how sadistic and cruel he was, unless he loses.
Being a true Slytherin, Barnabas had planned on a series of articles that would tout the advantages of being led by Dumbledore’s disciples if he had won. Now all that planning had most likely gone to waste, because the King of Magic was not kind and merciful to those who did not do his will.
“Bradshaw!” he shouted at the stupid reporter.
“Waaa?” said Bradshaw as he lifted his head from the parchment covered desk.
“What did you think you were doing by posting this?”
“It was all true. It actually happened, Boss,” Bradshaw said excitedly.
“I don’t care if it actually happened, you imbecile. Do you know what…?” Cuffe stopped talking, as his Floo flared green in his office. He saw the outline of the King of Magic appear against the second and third flash of green.
“I hope you die in agony, because you have destroyed my paper,” Cuffe hissed angrily at the young reporter who looked clueless at why he was in trouble. The wall between his office and the reporter area exploded.
Cuffe turned on the spot to Apparate away, but he was blocked from doing so by Anti-Apparation Charms. As he heard his name being yelled by Bellatrix Lestrange, he had no other choice. He dove headlong out the nearest window. He felt the heat of a curse just miss him. His only hope of survival was to Apparate before he hit the ground three floors below. He used to do this as a young man. Jump out of his bedroom window and Apparate into the lake by his ancestral home. It was one of his favorite things to do.
The air was rushing past him as the paved street quickly approached. He turned in the air, but the Anti-Apparation wards reached even out to the street. The was no stopping his descent now.
He didn’t die when he collided with the ground. It seemed eerily ironic, that he bounced so as his life was ebbing away, he could watch the destruction of his paper and hear the screams of his dying employees who were caught in the wrath of the King of Magic.
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Xenophilus Lovegood was always up early working on articles for the Quibbler. This morning he was getting ready for printing; the press was by a window in his tower-like home. He would occasionally look out the window to see what type of wonderful magical creature would be outside in his garden. This morning it was the lack of a creature that had alarmed him. It could only mean one thing; someone was outside watching him.
He went about his business of setting up his printing press, while watching and waiting. He realized that he might possibly be in danger, with his daughter being friends with Ginny Weasley Potter. The Owl he received three days ago saying that Luna was being escorted from Hogwarts for her safety had concerned him. It had advised him to be careful because he could be considered an enemy of the state.
However, he wasn’t overly concerned because nothing ever came from him exposing Fudge and the Rotfang conspiracy or Fudge’s army of Heliotropes.
When he saw someone walking up his lane, everything was adding up. It was Victor Chang from the Ministry’s Financial Department. They had attended Hogwarts together and were even sorted into Ravenclaw together, but they were never friends. Victor was always so constricted in his views. Xenophilius stepped out of his front door to greet his old housemate.
“Xeno, it is good to see you again,” said Victor. He was dressed in expensive grey and copper robes. He had aged as his hair was almost all grey by now. He was also carrying a rolled up newspaper in his grasp.
“Hello, Victor, to what do I owe this pleasure so early in the morning?”
“Have you read this morning’s Daily Prophet?” asked Victor holding the paper out to him.
“I never read it. It is just propaganda for the Ministry. Full of lies it is,” Xeno said with disgust. He also still held a grudge with Cuffe for firing him and not even printing any of his articles that he had submitted as a freelance writer, because Cuffe thought they were ridiculous.
“You should read it. It says that Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix have defeated Fenrir Greyback and destroyed his entire pack of werewolves,” said Victor excitedly, as he again tried to hand the paper to him.
“I don’t understand Victor. You are a lifelong Ministry employee and doing very well for yourself.”
“I am an employee of the Ministry, but I have never supported him and his methods, Xeno,” said Victor with some heat in his voice. “In fact, I haven’t been into work since he overthrew the government and murdered Cornelius in cold blood.”
“I am happy for your beliefs Victor, but I still don’t understand why you have been watching me?”
“Xeno, I am here to ask for your help. Your daughter is friends with Ginny Weasley Potter. She was separated as a high risk student because of it,” Victor stopped talking and he seemed to have a hard time of speaking for several seconds. “I need a place to hide from the Ministry. I do not want to swear fealty to him. Please Xeno, I beg of you speak to the Order. Certainly you know where they are.”
“No, I do not know where they are. You know that Arthur Weasley would have a better idea of where they are located.”
“I tried to contact him, but no one knows where he lives. I — I had to contact some of our old classmates to even find you Xeno. Please, I have gold, if that is what you want. Take me to the Order so I can protect my family. We must be at the Ministry by Noon.”
“I told you, that I have no idea where the Order is. I have not heard from my Luna for three days. I don’t even know if she is alive,” Xeno said allowing his irritation to show in his voice. “I don’t appreciate you watching me either, so leave me alone.”
Victor looked at him slightly shocked. “I haven’t been watching you. Why would you think that?”
“My Bavarian Pixies have gone into hiding. They love to fly around my Dirigible Plums except when someone is watching them. Then they hide.”
Victor looked at him with a strange expression. “I’ve never heard of or seen Bavarian Pixies.”
“They are a rare breed and are virtually invisible,” snorted Xeno. “I wouldn’t doubt you had never seen them. If you haven’t been watching me then who has been. They have been hiding for over an hour.
Victor Chang’s face turned nearly chalk white. He reached for his wand and held it in a shaky hand. “It must be someone from the Ministry. They knew about your daughter escaping their grasp. I’ve just signed my family’s death warrant. What have I done?”
Victor’s wand flew out of his hand from a spell cast out of thin air. Xeno turned to see Alastor Moody lifting an invisibility cloak from over his head.
“Everybody, just remain calm. I don’t want to curse any of you,” the old Auror said brandishing his wand at them. “I have been sent to collect you Xeno and take you to your daughter.”
“You are holding Luna captive?”
“No, she is safe, but you may not be for long. Voldemort will take revenge however he can; starting with the families of the Hogwarts refugees. I am the one that has been watching your place. I am amazed that he doesn’t have anyone watching you at this time, but I imagine his forces are spread pretty thin right now. So go and collect only your basic necessities.”
“I need my printing press.”
“No, just basic necessities, Xeno. The quicker you collect your stuff the sooner we leave.”
“Please, take me with you. I can then come back and collect my family. I can pay,” Victor begged.
“I can’t do that. If what you say is true? Bring your family and only the most basic of needs with you to this location.” The Auror still holding his wand produced a piece of parchment and wrote using his wand several numbers on the parchment. “You understand Longitude and Latitude? Apparate to that point. That isn’t the safe location, but it will lead you to the place where we will sort you out. If you know anyone you trust, bring them along. Understand that if you do not pass our tests you will not be able to enter the safe location.”
Victor bowed to the old Auror. “Thank you. Thank you, very much.” He immediately Apparated away.
Alastor Moody turned back to look at Xeno again. “Have you collected your things yet?”
“No, I have a few questions. Do you have any Gurdyroots or Dirigible plums in this safe location?”
For some strange reason Alastor Moody rolled his eyes at him.
[ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]
Harold and Jane Granger were sitting at the kitchen table sipping on their morning tea and enjoying blueberry scones. Their country was in turmoil. It had been attacked by terrorists.
The Grangers were upset because of the pictures of the terrorists. They were wizards and witches, just like their daughter. The next day they received a post that Hermione had been whisked away from her school for her safety. They hadn’t heard a thing from her since that post. They tried writing to her each of the past two days, but the letters went unanswered.
Even with all this turmoil going on in their lives they were still planning on going into work and seeing their patients. They needed some normalcy.
The knock on their front door at half past seven was not normal. They sat there staring at each other over the rims of their tea cups not sure what they should do. The second set of knocks made them move.
Harold led the way to the front door. He was actually hoping for some delivery service dropping off a package for them. When he looked through the spy hole and saw what was obviously a government agent standing there. His heart started thumping out of his chest.
Do they believe his daughter was involved in the terrorist group? Was she involved in the terrorist group? He wasn’t even sure anymore.
“Who’s at the door, Harold?”
“It looks like someone from the government,” he said to his wife. Her face drained of color.
There was another knock on the door this one louder and longer than the last.
“Well, dear, there is nothing to it. We might as well let him in and see what he has to say.” Harold pulled the door open. “Hello, what can I do for you this early morning?” he said as cheerfully as possible.
“Drs. Harold Granger and Jane Granger, I am with MI6. Can I come in? I have some questions for you.” The young agent had produced his credentials. They looked authentic, but he couldn’t really tell. The man was rather nondescript with a professional appearance about him, but the earpiece and sunglasses made him stand out.
“Yes, you may come in. We were just having tea; do you want any?”
The man seemed to stand in the doorway for a long time preventing Harold from closing the door. “No sir, let me get to the point,” he finally said while moving out of the doorway. “Do you have a picture of your daughter that I may see.”
“Why would you want a picture of our daughter,” Jane said rather defensively. Harold could tell she was rather shaken.
“We need it for confirmation.” The agent said.
“Confirmation of what, may I ask?” Jane snapped at the officer. “If my daughter is in danger I want to know.”
“We need the picture for confirmation,” the agent again stressed. He turned his head slightly and saw that they had a pictures of Hermione hanging in the foyer from age five to last year before she left for school. “Is that your daughter?”
“That’s Hermione,” said another voice in the room.
When a man with long red-hair appeared beside them, Jane let out a squeak and he almost punched the man. The man stepped back and put his hands up in a defensive position.
“I am sorry to startle you. I needed to be sure you were her parents. I taught her at Hogwarts. She is safe and we need to take you to her so you can be safe also.” The young man said. He stared at them for a few seconds. “My name is Bill Weasley. I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
Harold saw that the man appeared to be a wizard, but why was he with a government agent. The agent smiled at him.
“No, I am a Muggle. This man’s family and others fighting the terrorists have formed an alliance with our government,” said the agent. “I have seen things that I never thought was possible.”
“My baby is safe?” asked Jane. Harold now realized that his wife was crying.
“Yes, we need you to come with us, right now. The leader of the terrorists may be able to find you from records at the Ministry. If he can’t find you, he can’t use your lives as leverage against our cause. If you can collect your things we will be on our way. Just take enough clothes for about a three day stay.”
“We — we can’t leave. We have responsibilities to our patients,” he told the wizard.
“Mr. Granger, I will not go back without you and your wife. I realize that you have patients to attend to, but your safety could be considered a national emergency.” He stared at them for a few seconds more. “Don’t you want to see your daughter? If I leave here, there may not be another opportunity to take you to safety.”
Harold looked at Jane. He hated leaving his patients like this, but it didn’t sound like he had much of a choice. “Can you give me thirty minutes to make a few calls. Do you have a fax machine and telephones where we will be?”
“No, we don’t and you have fifteen minutes,” sighed the young wizard.
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The stillness of the lorrie was what awakened Amelia Bones. She had been lolled to sleep by the irregular rocking of the lorrie on the highway and the whine of its tires on the pavement. Both of those things had stopped so she found herself waking up. She and twenty other refugees were hiding in the back of this lorrie that Abigail had arranged through her Muggle cousin, Clive. It was not very large and most people had to stand leaning against the walls. Amelia was reclining against the front wall.
The lorries weren’t his, but his companies. He said that the company would never miss them, but Amelia wasn’t sure. Whether he was telling the truth did not matter. They were on their way to Potter Manor in a fashion that Voldemort would never be able to find or track them. She had heard rumors that the Ministry had devised methods of tracking Apparations, but she didn’t know if she believed it. It didn’t matter since they were not Apparating.
She looked around the box that they were in and saw many anxious faces of family members. She had faced the possibility of needing to flee for her safety for years, so it didn’t bother her. These people probably never realized how close their government was to collapse. They all looked as if they were in shock. Their appearance could also be influenced be the single light in the center of the top of the box gave a haunting look to everyone’s face.
A fly was buzzing by her face and she instinctively went to swat at it with her right hand. The searing pain that erupted from her right side reminded her of her condition. When she first awoke she hadn’t noticed the pain from her injuries. Now that she moved all the pain seemed to come back tenfold.
She saw a little girl with long curly chestnut hair staring at her.
“Are you going to die?” she asked with her sweet little voice. Everyone in the box heard her and her mother quickly held her hand over the girl’s mouth and whispered in her ear.
Amelia leaned over so she could whisper to the girl. “Not today.”
“I am so sorry Madam Bones,” apologized the girl’s mother.
“That’s all right, I imagine I am quite the sight,” Amelia whispered while trying to look cheerful. She was in so much pain that she was fighting the urge to cry, something she hadn’t done since her brother’s funeral all those years ago.
“Did you fight You-Know-Who and win?” whispered the little girl excitedly.
“I didn’t exactly win, but I did survive,” she said softly. The little girl smiled at her. It reminded her of her niece, Susan. She wondered how she was doing.
The sound of doors closing echoed through the truck followed by the sound of its engine starting up. Soon they were moving, the familiar feel and sounds of the truck driving down the highway gave comfort to Amelia. There were several times when the truck would slow down followed by it speeding up again before it finally settled on the long continual whine of tires on the highway. Shortly after that sound filled the box, the little sliding door between the cab and the box slid open.
“Oi, Abby, ‘ere is some food for you lot back there,” shouted the gruff voice of Abby’s cousin. “Is that old bird that knows where we are going awake? I ‘ope she hasn’t passed on us.”
“Clive, her name is Madam Bones,” snapped Abigail. “Are we getting close?”
“Nah, we ain’t even in Scotland yet. I need better directions than to drive north. I ‘ave no bloody idea what to look for.”
“You can’t see it,” shouted Amelia. “Only I can see it. Go north of Dundee to Aderdeen on A92. When you get to Dundee, I will need to ride in the front. How much longer until we get to Dundee?”
“If we keep driving straight through about three to four hours.”
“Mommy, I need to go to the bathroom,” whispered the little girl who Amelia was talking to earlier.
“Any possibility, we can get out to stretch our legs and use a loo, soon?” she shouted at Clive.
“Yeah, I was ‘opin that we wouldn’t need to do that, but add another hour to the trip.”
“Please make the stop soon,” Amelia told Clive.
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Ron was tired and his arms ached as he fought off one werewolf after another with his silver tipped spear. Hermione was standing directly behind him casting spells over his shoulder at the werewolves. The spells were not strong enough to kill the beasts, but they diverted the attacks long enough for him to stab them with his spear.
Together, he and Hermione, had killed nine werewolves. They were presently fighting the last remaining werewolf. The others had been killed. This last one was a huge beast nearly a half larger and stronger than the other werewolves. Its arms were longer than the spear he was using it took all of his skill to keep him and Hermione from getting slashed with the beasts’ claws.
Hermione cast a weak Reducto spell, which knocked the werewolf back a step, and caused it to twist its body to regain its balance. In a split second, Ron struck and drove the silver tip of the spear deep into the werewolf’s chest.
With a scream of agonizing pain, the beast died. Ron collapsed to one knee. He was exhausted from the night of fighting werewolves. Hermione grabbed his shoulder and stared at him with her beautiful brown eyes as her face came closer to his. He stared longingly at her lips.
“Oi, wake up Ron,” said someone.
Ron snapped his eyes open. He was completely disoriented. The last thing he remembered Hermione was about to kiss him, but she told him to wake up with a voice that sounded like, Bill’s.
“Ron, get up, Mum wants the family together for breakfast,” Bill said gruffly as he shook him again.
“Gerrof me,” Ron mumbled back to his brother. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his dream. “Need sleep.”
“Don’t tell me about it,” said Bill. “I still haven’t slept. Besides, Mum wants you to meet your nephew. So get your lazy arse up before I curse it.”
“George, Fred, Percy, you three are included in this. I don’t know why you are sleeping in a tent.”
Ron sat up on his camp bed and ignored his eldest brother. The four of them decided to sleep with the rest of the Hogwarts’ students because of their experience of traveling across Scotland while fleeing Hogwarts. They didn’t want to leave them alone out here in this tent.
He looked around the tent. It was nearly as large as the great hall of Hogwarts. It had to be to hold all of the students and their camp beds. All the beds were filled, except Hermione’s.
She was hugging two older Muggles who must be her parents. Bill said the Order would be gathering up the parents of all the students. He looked again and noticed Xenophilius Lovegood was sitting beside Luna’s bed staring at her sleeping form. He could see through the opening in the tent that there were more Muggles outside talking with wizards. He wasn’t sure whose parents they were, but it seemed so strange to see Muggles and magical people together like this.
“Ron,” said Hermione. She must have noticed that he was awake. She was smiling at him and dragging her parents over to him. “Ron, this is my Mother and Father.”
Trying not to yawn as he spoke, Ron extended his hand. “Please to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Granger.”
“Please to meet you Ron,” said Mr. Granger. He seemed to straighten up and look critically at Ron. “We have heard a great deal about you.”
Ron looked at Hermione to see her blushing. He was confused why she would be blushing. Not sure what to say to her father, he said the first thing that came to him. “I hope it wasn’t too bad what you heard.”
This seemed to make Hermione even more uncomfortable. Bill stopped by and broke up the tense scene.
“Ron, breakfast,” he said. “Harold, your family can tag along. I have no idea what the House Elves are planning to do about feeding everyone. For now, we can all go to the formal dining hall. There is plenty of room in there unless all the Royals are in there.”
“Hermione, do you feel up to a spot of breakfast?” Harold asked. “I am curious about that manor. Who did you say owns it?” He addressed the question to Bill.
Bill started walking leading the group towards the manor house. “Our sister and her husband, it was from his side.”
Ron didn’t say anything. It was strange that now he had wealthy relatives that he was just as embarrassed or unsure what to say about them. He didn’t want to say something that would sound like he was bragging, like Malfoy always did. He looked around the estate as he walked trying to avoid eye contact with the Grangers so he didn’t have to say anything. He noticed that there were more tents going up. All about the same size as the one they had left. It was as if they were preparing for thousands of people to be coming.
They had entered the manor house. Bill had taken the lead with Hermione’s parents telling them about the manor and the Potter’s legacy. There were also Goblins and House Elves moving about the foyer. Bill was explaining about the different species and their stake in this war. Hermione was listening to Bill speak. He was amazed that she wasn’t taking notes.
“There you lot are and about time,” said his Mum. He could hear happiness in her voice. He looked up and saw her standing there waving them over to the head table. His father was sitting and holding a bundle of blankets that he assumed was his nephew. Ginny was sitting beside him. Harry was on the other side of the table talking with an older woman in Muggle clothing.
He felt Hermione and her parents hesitate for a second, before they immediately fell to one knee and bowed. He looked at them. He had no idea why they would do that.
“It’s only Mum. You don’t have to do that?” he said confused.
Hermione looked up at him scandalized. “Ron, that is the Queen sitting with Professor Potter,” she whispered.
He didn’t know what to say or do. Should he kneel too? He noticed none of his family was kneeling to the Queen, but he didn’t want Hermione’s parents to think he wasn’t respectful.
“You may rise?” said the Queen. “You must be Muggles?”
“Drs. Harold and Jane Granger, your Majesty, and our daughter Hermione Jane,” Mr. Granger said nervously.
“Are you from Hogwarts, Miss Granger?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hermione nervously said.
“I am happy that you are safe. That must have been quite an ordeal you experienced,” the Queen said as she rose. “I must leave to attend to some official business. Mr. Potter, we will talk again shortly.”
“I want to get some things settled here with the incoming refugees before attending to anything else, Your Majesty.”
Ron was enjoying the look of awe on the Grangers faces. The Queen wasn’t anyone special to him, but he wasn’t Muggle. Evidently, she was very important to Muggles. He was ignoring what was being said among his family, as he sat down. Hermione sat beside him and Her parents were on the other side of her. Her father was the first to speak.
“I had no clue when Bill said that the Royals were here. I thought it meant a family with the last name of Royal.”
“We brought them here for protection when Voldemort attacked Parliament,” said Harry. “We were afraid of what would happen if the Death Eaters had captured the Royal family and the Queen.”
“You are working with the government? I thought that was illegal?” said Hermione
“Technically, it is forbidden, but it is more important we protect everyone right now than worry about hiding our society. Besides, Voldemort’s forces already exposed our world,” said Harry.
“Ron, it is time you met your nephew,” his Mum said. She thrust the bundle of blankets into his arms and started pulling and moving his arms to her satisfaction. When she was finally satisfied that he was holding the baby properly, she introduced. “Ron, meet your nephew, Xenon Potter.”
Ron stared at the plump pink baby for a second before registering what his Mum had said. “Xenon? What type of name is that?”
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Amelia Bones sat uncomfortably in the front of the lorrie. They were getting close to where she knew Potter Manor should be, but everything looked different. They were not as close to the North Sea as she thought they should be. She was pretty sure they hadn’t passed the manor, but she was getting nervous.
“’ow much longer, till we get there?” asked Clive. “We are goin’ to run out of road if we don’t find it soon.”
“I am not sure. I have never traveled by this method,” snapped Amelia. Clive’s grouchy attitude and her persistent pain was wearing on her patience. “Is there a road closer to the coast?”
“Yeah, I am sure there is one, but it will slow us down.”
“I know there is a road that runs along the coast by the manor. It isn’t nearly as large as this one.”
“Well I don’t see one over there now. You keep looking over there while I drive. Will you be able to see this ‘ouse from this road?”
Amelia smiled at his question. “I may not be able to see the house, but I will see the estate. It is quite distinctive. It is a peninsula a half mile wide and it juts out into the North Sea a mile. The house is at the far end. It also has a forty-foot hedgerow separating it from the mainland.”
“Bloody ‘ell, I should be able ta…”
“No you cannot see it. It has magical protections on it. I can only see it because I have been permitted to see it by the owner.”
“Umpff, magic stuff, eh,” muttered Clive under his breath.
“Yes, magic stuff,” snapped Amelia.
They drove along for another fifteen minutes without saying anything. Amelia was happy for the silence. Clive was not as patient.
“What ‘appened to ya?” he said suddenly. “Your injuries.”
“A ceiling fell on me when a dozen people were trying to kill me. They were doing that because I was in charge Magical Law Enforcement.” Amelia smiled when Clive gave her a sideways glance at her comment about Law Enforcement.
“Tell me, Clive, are these your lorries?”
Clive gripped the steering wheel a couple of times so hard his knuckles turned white before answering. Amelia was able to observe this, while staring at the distant coastline.
“No, they are not my trucks. The owner doesn’t know I ‘ave them and I doubt if ‘e even cares at this point. Grunnings Tool and Die is bloody dead. We lost an entire year’s worth of work to the bottom of Liverpool bay when your kind attacked us.
“Some big fat bloke in sales had swung a deal with a big American store. This store would buy millions of pounds of our product each year for the next three years. The catch was we needed to get the initial order to them by the end of next week. Well, that bloody Dursley ‘ad all the managers convinced that this was a ticket to the big time. They bought extra equipment, ‘ired thirty more millwrights, and borrowed a boat load of money to do all this and to buy extra trucks.
“Well, everything was goin along just fine. They milled all the tools, drill bits, and everything to fill the first order. We trucked it all to the docks, and loaded it on the ship. Then your bloody enemies attacked and sent the ship to the bottom of the bay. The company realized that it was done for and told everyone to stay home.
“No sense in going to work if the company can’t pay ye.”
“So you are out of a job?” She felt bad for the man. He might be an irritating man, but to lose your job suddenly wasn’t a pleasant thing.
“Yeah, you could say that. Do you know what the kicker is about all this? That bloke that arranged all this has been put in a looney bin. It seems that as soon as Parliament was attacked, he took off from work, bought ‘imself a shotgun and was seen shooting at birds as they flew over ‘is ‘ouse. ‘e said that they were ‘is ruddy nephew comin’ to attack ‘im.”
Amelia was going to ask if this Dursley had a magical nephew, when she saw the peninsula. “There it is. Can you get to that road over there?”
“I can see the road, but I don’t see any peninsula,” said Clive. “Before ye say it, I know it is a magic thing.”
“Yes, Clive, it is a magic thing.” She smiled at herself, as they moved to exit from the road they were on.
She sent a Patronus off to Arthur Weasley announcing their arrival. Fifteen minutes later they were driving along Potter estate. She was getting anxious to be somewhere safe. She just hoped that Susan had made it through safely. She was surprised to see Arthur Weasley and Harry Potter waiting for her. They stepped out from the magical protections causing Clive to slam on his brakes and swerve away from them. Amelia was nearly flung into the side window from the sudden change of direction.
“Where the bloody ‘ell did they come from?” shouted Clive.
“They are here to take us to safety.”
Harry stepped up to Clive’s window and Arthur stepped up to her window.
“Merlin, Amelia, you should have used your Portkey. You need to see Poppy straight away,” said Arthur, as soon as he saw her.
“I don’t have one. I gave it to Susan. Is she safe?”
“Yes, her and all the other children from Hogwarts were saved from the werewolves,” said Arthur.
“Werewolves after the children?”
“Yes, Madam Bones, let’s get you all inside the wards and then I will take you to Poppy,” said Harry.
Harry and Arthur went and asked the Muggle and magical people the same question. She enjoyed watching their faces light up in wonder as the estate appeared before them. After they had asked everyone the question and they all answered properly, Harry offered to lead everyone through the hedgerow since they had no mental picture to Apparate.
“Harry, you shouldn’t be Apparating people onto the estate,” Amelia told him. “The Ministry is perfecting a way to track Apparations. If it is functional, they will be able to track people here to your doorstep.”
“I thought it was impossible to track Apparation?” Arthur asked her.
“The Department of Mysteries have been working on it,” she told him. “They were going to try and integrate the spell into the Portkey tracking board. That is the main reason we used the lorries.”
Harry looked at the vans. Amelia could almost see the lights come on in his eyes. “Sir, do you own these vans?”
“No, but I can use them,” Clive responded.
Amelia kept quiet, as Harry and Clive spoke. They were discussing rental payments on the lorries, when she felt something or someone behind her. She turned to find Arthur transfiguring a wooden chair that was more of a recliner behind her.
“Here Amelia, this should fit you as we levitate you to the main house,” Arthur said as he put the finishing touches on the chair.
When finished it lined up behind her so she could easily fall back into it. It wobbled a bit before stabilizing about three feet off the ground. She felt relief from the pressure on her injuries. It was actually a rather comfortable way to ride. The Muggle lorry drivers’ stared at her floating three feet above the ground with gobsmacked expressions. Harry and Clive had just finished shaking hands.
“Come into the estate and I will pay you for this first load,” Harry said the Clive, who smiled like the cat that ate the canary.
Amelia couldn’t help herself. She had to tell Harry. “He doesn’t own these trucks Harry. You don’t want him pulled over for a speeding ticket and have the trucks impounded with the back filled with refugees.”
Clive’s shoulders sagged before recovery and straightening up to meet the world face on. “Me company is going into Bankruptcy. They ‘ave no use for the bloody trucks.”
“What company did you work for?” Harry asked him.
Clive spent the next fifteen minutes telling Harry about his company’s troubles. Amelia noticed that Harry smiled when Clive mentioned that big old fat bloke that is in the looney bin right now. They had moved through the hedgerow as a unit, while Clive was talking to Harry. Amelia marveled at all the tents that were set up. Harry answered her unasked question.
“We are setting up for thousands of people to flee from Voldemort,” he said with happiness. The garden near the house was almost completely filled with tents. The wide type that could accommodate hundreds of people each if they were magically Charmed on the inside.
“Madam Bones,” Harry said to her softly. “I told you that I would take you to Poppy as soon as possible, but I was wondering if you would mind staying here for a few hours. There is going to be a meeting in about an hour. We need to sit down with the Muggle Authorities and decide what we are going to do next. I would like your input and advice.”
“Of course Harry, I can stay that long.”
Harry smiled at her with a boyish expression. “Thank you, we can start treating your injuries here before sending you off to France.”
Harry walked over to talk to a few more people in their group. She was amazed at how kind and accommodating this young man was. He was talking to people as if he was staying at their home, instead of the other way around.
She was going to say something to Arthur about his son-in-law. When she heard a squeal of joy, she recognized that it was her niece Susan.
“Auntie, Auntie is that you,” she squealed with excitement. “I heard you were dead. Are you hurt very bad? Oh Auntie you wouldn’t believe everything that happened to us….”
Amelia listened contentedly as he niece described her ordeal of leaving Hogwarts and crossing the countryside. The traveling with House Elves and Centaurs. They battled Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest, and Hagrid had died. When Susan talked about being surrounded by werewolves and being rescued by “The Harry Potter” and the Order, she glanced at Harry for several seconds.
Amelia couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face. Susan was a young girl about the age where she would become interested in boys. Harry was the embodiment of a dashing handsome hero. She just hoped that Susan would never act openly on her obvious attraction to Harry. If Amelia was Susan’s age, she too would probably find the young man rather attractive and have a school girl crush. Amelia never admitted to anyone, but she had one on Professor Dumbledore. It came as quite a shock to find out in her later years that they were ‘playing on different pitches’ one could say.
They had nearly reached the house when a young man approached them. He said that he was a healer at St. Mungo’s, as he was looking at her injuries. He would be willing to treat anyone who needed it. Harry turned and spoke to a couple of the House Elves. They rushed off into the house. The man walked over to her.
“Hello, my name is Oliver Kirwan, and I am a Healer at St Mungo’s. I would like to treat you, if you let me.”
“I am Amelia Bones and that would be fine. I do believe I have seen you before. Do you specialize in spell damage?”
“Yes, I have treated many of the Hit-Wizards and Aurors that come into St. Mungo’s. I am not sure what type of Potions I can get here, but I promise to do my best,” he said as he started to wave his wand over her.
It must have looked rather strange to all the Muggles. She was floating along Levitated by Arthur Weasley, while a Healer was casting diagnostic spells over her as they entered the house.
“Arthur take Madam Bones to the Ballroom,” Harry said as they floated past him in the doorway to the house. “Healer Kirwan, I have assigned two House Elves to get whatever you need. The only thing I ask is could Amelia attend a meeting in one hour.”
“Mr. Potter, she is severely injured I should be giving her about four different Potions and one would be a pain….”
“The Pain Potion can wait,” Amelia said. “Just patch me up the best you can for the meeting. After the meeting is over I will take the Pain Potion.”
“Very well, I hope you have access to what I need,” he said to Harry.
“Do not worry about that, Healer Kirwan,” said Amelia. “Mr. Potter is quite prepared for anything.”
[ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]
Harry stood in the map room staring at a room full of people. There were representatives from Muggle England and also Magical society. They had to sit down and figure out what to do next. They needed to take the fight to Voldemort.
“Any idea when that blockade will be eliminated?” asked a high ranking Muggle official. Harry had forgotten his name.
Harry, Arthur, and Bill were exhausted they had spent last night fighting werewolves and all day today Apparating people through the wards of Potter Estate. They had moved in almost three hundred refugees. Many of them were family members of the children from Hogwarts, or friends of the families. There were owls flying around Britain aimlessly trying to find someone who was in the Order or would be fighting against Voldemort who were inside the estate’s wards. They needed to find a solution to bringing people in here for their safety without endangering anyone inside.
“I am guessing about two days we should have enough information to eliminate most of the people creating the blockade,” said Alastor Moody. “If you look up at the map,….”
Harry watched as the old Auror explained about their tracking charms. Madam Bones commented on how many tracking pieces had fallen off the board, when she first saw it.
“…we don’t want to do anything until we have a good plan that can be executed quickly and easily,” Alastor finished saying.
“Once this blockade is eliminated will we be able to use our airports and seaports without fear of the planes being shot down and ships sunk?” The Muggle official asked.
“We can’t be sure. The people we have been tracking have been in Voldemort’s service for at least six months. He could start recruiting new people anytime,” Alastor said. “We can’t guarantee that he won’t strike again.”
“May I say something?” asked Madam Bones.
“The people who we are eliminating from his service are his best. Magic is something that not all people can do with equal success and power. We can’t guarantee that he won’t attack again, but we also can be sure that the people he will be using will be inferior in battle tactics than their predecessor.”
“Are you telling me that the people he would send out to our airports won’t be able to blast a plane out of the sky,” the Muggle official leaned forward in an attempt to intimidate Madam Bones.
“No, I did not say that,” protested Madam Bones. “With each person we eliminate from his service, he gets weaker. It will make things easier to destroy him and set the government right.”
“Are you running out of provisions?” Harry asked the Muggle contingency.
“We have plenty of food and supplies. We need the blockade lifted in the next week or we will be having problems. There is an issue of a little girl. She is dying and we need to either get her a new heart flown in or send her to Paris where they can transplant a new heart for her. If we do not get the blockade lifted immediately; she will die. Her situation has become public knowledge, so it would look very good saving her.”
“You said Paris?” Harry asked the man. This man was only thinking of the notoriety of saving the little girl. Harry though thought about the pain the family would feel if this girl died.
“Yes, Paris, why do you have a plan? She cannot go by any magical transportation. The jolting around would kill her. She needs to remain on life support. It would be easiest to bring the heart here.”
“Can someone in Paris transport the heart to a small town in the Alps?”
“I suppose, why is that?” asked the Queen this time.
“I can get the heart here if they can get the heart to this spot in France. It is a remote area of the country.”
The Queen looked at the several of the Muggle advisors. One who had been quiet the entire time finally spoke up. “We will contact the French and see if that is possible. How soon can you transport the heart?”
“Within five minutes after this meeting,” said Harry.
“It will take us longer to coordinate the transfer of the heart. Thank you Mr. Potter.”
A Muggle guard entered the room, and handed a slip of paper to Clyde Ferndock. Clyde looked at it and his eyes went wide with surprise.
“Well, Clyde what is it?” said Alastor waspishly.
“I think someone is trying to Apparate to our location without your permission, Harry.”
“How do you know that?” barked Moody.
“The guards standing watch on top of the house just noticed three people falling out of midair into the ocean. They were confused by it, but it sounds like someone was trying to break into the wards.”
“The Ministry must be tracking Apparations,” said Amelia Bones.
“You can’t track Apparations,” replied Moody.
“Yes, now you can,” said Gregory Bright. “They had been working on something that could track Apparations in the Department of Mysteries. They were trying to install it on the same board that tracks Portkeys. It sounds like they might have succeeded.”
“What are we going to do if they can track Apparations?” sighed Alastor. “We won’t be able to leave or return without them knowing about it.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” said Amelia. “If they have already tracked us here, then they know where we are.”
“Could we use Muggle transportation?” Harry asked everyone. “They won’t be looking for it, and they won’t be able to track it”
“Harry,” said a weak voice from the corner of the room. Remus Lupin looked terrible. “Do you think we could have people use the Knight Bus?”
“That is a possibility, but can we trust the driver and attendant to take people where they want to go? Isn’t the bus owned or regulated by the Ministry?”
“It is regulated by the Ministry,” said Amelia Bones. “I think we should use Muggle transportation to get everyone inside of our wards. We will need to set up a protective perimeter around the road that leads here.”
“I say we continue to Apparate people here,” said Sirius. “They know where we are right now. There is no use in hiding what we are doing. The final decision is up to you, Harry.”
Harry stared at everyone. He returned their gaze for several seconds as he tried to sort this out in his head.
I say use both forms of transportation. Ginny spoke to him through their bond. Many magical families would feel trapped and suspicious of riding in lorries for hours, but we can’t always rely on Apparation, particularly if they can track it.
How about if we have the people Apparate to different locations where there will be lorries waiting for them. Harry responded to her. Have the lorries bring them to us? If they are tracking our Apparations, it will confuse them as to where our safe place is located.
Harry felt her giggle through their connection before he heard it.
Brilliant my dear, it may slow some things down, but it should confuse the Ministry Death Eaters.
“All right everyone,” Harry said as he looked up to see Remus, Sirius, and Arthur smiling at him, while the Muggle contingency had blank looks on their faces. “Here is what we will do….”
[ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]
The fog of pain was lifted from Rookwood’s mind. His master had lifted his wand after holding him under the Cruciatus Curse for almost a minute. He hoped that he didn’t whimper from the pain. The Dark Lord could accept you screaming out in pain, but whimpering was a sign of weakness to him.
“You should have never allowed the maintenance workers to leave, Augustus,” hissed Voldemort. “Does any of you, worthless scum, know where they went?” He addressed everyone else in the room.
Rookwood was not alone in front of the King of Magic. The receiving area was filled with Ministry officials. He and Bella were the only long standing members of the Inner Circle. No one seemed to know what happened to the others. Many are dead, but just as many had gone on missions and never returned.
“I think I know sir?” said Urquhart stepping forward slightly with his head still bowed.
“Where are they?”
“We have been tracking hundreds of Apparations all day. The Apparations all lead to a spot off the Eastern Scottish coast, Your Majesty.”
“And?” asked Voldemort threatening.
Urquhart glanced to his side at another man who eventually stepped forward. He was the present Head of the Hit Wizards. Trumball was his name. He was an older wizard; who Rookwood had crossed wands with before. The man never impressed Rookwood with his abilities, but maybe Trumball was holding back to allow him to escape all those times.
“We sent several Hit-Wizards to the location, Your Majesty. They encountered a barrier and were rejected from the location. It must be protected by very strong wards to reject people Apparating.”
“Were you successful?” asked Voldemort.
“Successful, your Majesty, the location was protected….”
“I know that the location was protected by wards, you imbecile. I am assuming that you tried to breach or bring down the wards.”
Silence filled the area. Rookwood was now kneeling where he could see a sheen of sweat appear on Trumball’s forehead. “No, Your Majesty, we haven’t had the time. I — I will get some people right on it,” he said backing away.
“No, you will not, and stay where you are,” said the King.
Rookwood tried to contain the smile. Trumball was either going to die or be tortured. Silence filled the area again. The King of Magic turned and walked up to his throne and sat down. Rookwood chanced a glance up at him. His face showed no indication of what he was going to do. It was times like this that he was the most unpredictable. He could either lash out and kill everyone here, dismiss everyone, or do something that caught everyone completely unaware.
“Harry Potter must die,” the King of Magic said softly. “There is something about him that has prevented me from killing him. I have never been so frustrated in all of my life, but I cannot allow him to live any longer. We must assume that this location that is so heavily warded is where Harry Potter is located. The problem is how do we get in there and kill him. The solution will be to allow him and the rest of these traitors to believe that they are safe.
“I hear that we only had twenty people show up today to swear fealty to me. There are over a thousand witches and wizards unaccounted for in Britain. I can only assume that they are trying to seek refuge with Potter’s band of miscreants. Let them.”
Rookwood snapped his head up and stared at the King. He never expected this response.
“Mr. Trumball, you are in charge of the Hit-Wizards. I am going to give you this task,” said the King. “Use whatever sources at your disposal and locate a family that had not come in to swear fealty. When you find this family, you will subject the entire family to Imperious Curses. Their objective will be to find someone to take them to this safe location. Once there, they will seek out and kill Harry Potter upon sight.”
Everyone stood in silence. Rookwood smiled at the Kings brilliant plan.
“Also, when looking for this family, don’t make them Slytherins or Gryffindors. A family of Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws would be better. The Slytherins wouldn’t be trusted and Gryffindors can be so unpredictable with their hero complexes.”
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