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SIYE Time:14:29 on 28th March 2024
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Paintball Wizard
By cackling stump

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance, Tragedy
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 319
Summary: The life of a typical American teenager (okay, maybe not so typical) is shaken by tragedy. Then he discovers a new world awaiting him, filled with new people, new struggles, and, perhaps, new love.
Hitcount: Story Total: 256021; Chapter Total: 4902
Awards: View Trophy Room






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The Power He Knows Not

In a large, dark room, the Dark Lord sat on a throne, holding his wand in his right hand, caressing it lightly with his left. Before him, Lucius and Draco Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange knelt, their heads bowed. They had been in this position since he they reported about the assault on Hogwarts. Voldemort stared at them from his red rimmed eyes, making them more and more anxious as they awaited their fate.

After another minute, he demanded, “Can any of you explain how this attack became such a fiasco? After all, you three are the only ones who returned.”

The three looked nervously towards each other. Lucius was the first to gain control of his voice. “My Lord, they must have known we were coming. The Order was waiting for us in Hogsmeade before we even started attacking. They were hidden all around the village and had three wizards for every one of ours. The only logical explanation is that they must have a spy in our midst.”

Bellatrix lifted her head. “They were expecting us as well, my Lord. I estimate at least twenty Aurors must have been present hidden behind a barricade they had erected right in the Entrance Hall. They used some type of weapon I have never seen. These small projectiles flew right through our shields and caused all sorts of strange effects when they struck.”

“How did you escape, then?” asked Voldemort.

“I was barely able to avoid being hit by jumping behind a suit of armour. I left as quickly as I could when I realized that we had no chance to achieve our target.”

Voldemort raised his wand, yelling, “ Crucio! ” Bellatrix fell to the ground writhing in pain. After a few moments, he lifted the spell. “Bellatrix, that is to remind you that I will accept neither failure nor retreat. You are dismissed.”

The dark-haired witch slowly arose from the floor, moving in noticeable pain, and left the room as quickly as she could.

When the door had closed behind her, “And you, Draco, how did you manage to return here?” asked Voldemort.

Draco swallowed nervously, sweat pouring down his face. “When it became obvious that we were outnumbered, Father and I Apparated away.”

“I am forced to teach you the same lesson as your aunt, Draco. Crucio! ” Voldemort held the spell until he was certain his message had been communicated and then lifted the spell. “Draco, please stand off to the right. I have business with your father, but I want you to hear what I have to say.” Draco staggered over to the ordered location.

“Lucius, is my new base ready?”

“Yes, my Lord. All is prepared as you have asked.”

“Since you are concerned that we have a spy, is there any chance that the Order has learned of its location?”

“No, my Lord. Only Draco and I know where it is. Draco has been a great help at readying it to your specifications.”

“What about the contents of the prophecy? Does anyone else know of it?”

“I have told no one. Of course, Bellatrix knows, as she was present when you told me.”

“Draco does not know?”

“No, he does not.”

“Then, I guess I will have to inform him myself. I have decided that he will be the one to fulfil it.”

Lucius’ eyes opened wide. “That surprises me, my Lord. I had assumed that you would be the one to which it refers.”

“Unfortunately, I have determined that I am, shall we say, unable to perform the tasks required.” He looked to his right at the teen standing in the background. “However, I am sure that young Draco will be able to complete them for me.” Draco gulped under the strong gaze of the Dark Lord.

“But, my Lord,” Lucius protested, “Draco does not meet all the criteria.”

Voldemort smiled evilly. “No, he doesn’t at this moment, but I plan to rectify that now.”

After a moment, Lucius’ face contorted in fear. “No, please, my Lord! I have been your most devoted and loyal servant! Please!”

“You are correct, Lucius, you have been very faithful in your service. Just think of this as the ultimate display of your loyalty to me. Avada Kedavra!

“Father!” screamed Draco, taking a step forward.

Voldemort swiftly turned his wand on Draco. “Stay where you are, Draco.”

Draco stopped immediately, his face white with fear. Voldemort waved his wand and said, “ Evanesco,” and the body of the elder Malfoy vanished. Another wave of his wand conjured a chair in front of Voldemort’s throne. “Come, Draco, sit. I have much to tell you about the part you will play in the coming weeks.”

**********

“So, how was your first real day of lessons?” asked Harry after greeting his wife late the next evening.

“Okay.” At Harry’s questioning look, she added, “The lessons were fine. I just felt short-tempered all day, but I had no reason to be grumpy.” She snuggled up into Harry’s chest. “I slept well last night, we both did,” she said with a smirk, “and nothing went wrong. I don’t understand it. It was like I was hormonal, but it’s not my time.”

Harry reddened a little at Ginny’s comment. “Hmm,” said Harry. “I felt the same way. When the few customers that did come in the shop came to the counter, I felt like they were bothering me, as if they were interrupting me, even though I wasn’t doing anything.”

“We know you’re not hormonal,” joked Ginny.

He hugged her and kissed her forehead, “At least not that kind of hormonal,” he said suggestively. He pulled her close and kissed her more passionately, running one of his hands through her hair.

They separated when they heard an insistent knock on her door. “Quick,” she whispered, “go back into the bedroom.” She smoothed her hair and opened the door.

“Is he here yet?” asked Lydia, who barged in before Ginny could ask her in and was searching the room.

Ginny chuckled. “Hello, Lydia. Won’t you come in?”

Harry, hearing Lydia’s voice, cracked open the door to make sure she was alone. Lydia turned quickly when she heard the creak of the door and yelled, “Harry!” She ran over, pushing the door open and jumped into his arms, giving him a huge hug.

“Hey, Pipsqueak, long time, no see,” said Harry, obviously happy to see his ‘little sister.”

Lydia released him from her hug and glared at him, her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know I grew three inches this summer!”

Harry laughed. “Alright, no more ‘Pipsqueak,’ I promise,” putting his arm around her. “How have you been? We haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

“I know. It was driving me crazy not to be able to ask Ginny any questions about you or your honeymoon on the Hogwarts Express.”

“I noticed that you seemed perturbed,” said Harry.

Lydia’s eyes widened as she turned to face him. “You were there? Were you wearing your cloak? Why didn’t you at least let me know?”

Harry and Ginny both chuckled. “No, I wasn’t there,” explained Harry. “As part of our completed Bond, we can now share senses. So, I was able to sort of eavesdrop on Ginny during the train ride.”

Lydia grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him down to sit with her on the sofa. “So, you two, tell me about your honeymoon.” She turned to Ginny, patting the seat next to her. “Where did he take you? Was it romantic?”

Ginny smiled at the younger girl’s enthusiasm as she sat down. “He took me to a cabin by a lake in the woods that his family used to go to when he was growing up. Yes, it was romantic. We were the only ones around and we were able to relax on the beach, cook food by a campfire, and just enjoy being together.”

Lydia stared back at Ginny dreamily. “It sounds wonderful. Wish I had someone who would treat me like that.”

“Perhaps someday, Lydia. You are only fourteen, after all,” said Ginny.

Harry nudged her in the side. “Any candidates for that snogging partner that we talked about last year?” he teased.

Lydia turned her face down, hiding the redness that was showing on her cheeks. “Maybe,” she said quietly.

“Who is it?” asked Harry.

“Gavin Poynter. He’s a fifth-year Ravenclaw.”

“He’s a prefect,” said Ginny. “He seems like a nice boy.” She leaned toward Lydia and whispered, “And cute, too.”

Lydia covered her mouth and giggled a little. “Yeah,” she said, her voice sounding dreamy again. Then her face changed, becoming more downcast. “But I don’t think he knows I even exist.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Ginny, a knowing smile on her face. “I was having lunch today with Luna at the Ravenclaw table and I overheard him talking with some of his friends, discussing Ravenclaw’s Quidditch prospects for the year. They were debating whether anyone would have a chance against Gryffindor. Gavin said that Gryffindor would win easily, since we had two Chasers and both Beaters returning. His friend countered that we had to replace two players that were offered professional contracts, so there were some big holes to fill. Gavin then said, ‘But their reserve Seeker embarrassed Corner last year, and this year we don’t have anyone as good as Corner was. I don’t think we have a chance against her.’”

Lydia’s face lit up. “He really said that? About me?”

“He did,” Ginny reassured her. “But that wasn’t all I heard,” she added as she smiled and lifted her eyebrows. “His friend then teased him and asked, ‘Do you still think she’s cute?’ He tried to deny it, but his friend replied, ‘You know that you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her during that match.’ He turned red and said, ‘She did look pretty good up there on that Harpy Edition.’”

Lydia was practically jumping up and down in her seat. “He thinks I’m cute?! For real? You’re not just taking the mickey on me?”

Ginny smiled. “I’m serious, that’s what he said.”

“You’re not Sirius; he’s back at Grimmauld Place,” Lydia said with a straight face.

Both Harry and Ginny groaned. “Now, he has you making horrible puns on his name, too,” lamented Harry. “Are you going to start pulling pranks, now also?”

Lydia grinned cheekily and said, “You never know.” She turned back to Ginny, gripping her forearm, and asked, “Now, what do I do? I can’t exactly just go up and talk to him. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“I have an idea,” said Ginny with a sly smile. “How about if you sit with me and Luna at a meal sometime, maybe this weekend? We’ll try to sit near Gavin again and you could say something to me about Quidditch. Maybe ask about how Ron’s doing in with the Bats and how well I think they’ll do. Nothing like a Quidditch conversation to get a boy to notice you,” she said with a wink. “If we’re lucky, he’ll join in the discussion.”

“You’d do that for me? Oh, thank you, Ginny!” Lydia exclaimed as she hugged her.

“You’re welcome. After all, if you are Harry’s ‘little sister,’ you’re my little sister, too.”

While the discussion turned to what Lydia should wear that day and if she should do something different with her hair, Harry just leaned back and put his arms behind his head, watching his beautiful wife talk animatedly with his friend and feeling pride bubble up through his chest. She is an amazing witch, he thought. I still don’t know how I could be so fortunate to find her. I love her so much.

Ginny looked up for a moment from her conversation with Lydia, and thought, Right back at you, Potter, followed with a wink before returning to the topic of whether Lydia should wear makeup that day.

***********

“Thank you for meeting with me; I have been looking forward to working with you two.” The first Saturday of the term found Harry and Ginny in the Room of Requirement with Professor McGonagall. “Advanced Transfiguration, while underappreciated can be a very useful skill in duelling.”

Both teens were a little surprised at this. “I’ve never heard of using Transfiguration in duels,” said Ginny.

“That is not totally true; most people don’t realize they are using some Transfiguration spells while fighting. For instance, Incarcerous is in actuality conjuring ropes, but since it is generally taught in Defence and not Transfiguration, we don’t think of it that way. Another reason it is not used that often is because most witches and wizards don’t have the power and speed to use Transfiguration in a fight. However, seeing a master use Transfiguration can be amazing. Albus …” she hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “Professor Dumbledore was especially skilled at it. You may not have known this but before he was Headmaster, he taught Transfiguration; he was my professor in school. Anyway, Transfiguration was one of his main weapons in his famous duel with Grindelwald. Since you two are so powerful, I believe that you could make good use of these skills.”

“Can you give us some examples of how it could help us?” Ginny asked.

“If you think of the skills you have learned over the years in my class, many of them can be adapted to duelling, just on a bigger scale. For example, you learned how to animate a teacup. Imagine animating a large piece of furniture. Yes, it can be destroyed by a Reductor Curse, but that takes time and may distract your opponent enough to let you hit them with another spell.”

Ginny smirked. “My brothers would often ‘table joust’ when setting up for meals outdoors at the Burrow, at least until my mum yelled at them to stop. I never thought of using that in a real fight.”

“You also learned to transfigure inanimate objects into small animals. Think about what could happen if you created a lion or tiger instead of a mouse. Again, your opponent will have to deal with the new threat. The main problem with wild animals is that unless you place an Imperius Curse on them, they are wild and unpredictable, so you need to be on your guard that they don’t come back and bite you.”

The couple nodded their understanding. “Can you transfigure a large snake?” asked Harry.

“Yes, there is a specific conjuration spell, Serpensortia, that can create a snake out of your wand. The type of snake hinges on what species you are thinking of and the size depends on the power you put behind the spell. Why do you ask?”

“We recently discovered that we are Parselmouths. We think that I received the ability when Voldemort gave me the scar and that Ginny’s ability is left over from when she was possessed by him her first year. Perhaps we could use this spell and then we could tell the snake what we wanted it to do. That way we wouldn’t have to worry about a wild animal attacking us.”

“Excellent idea, Mr Potter. We will work on that in the future. But for today’s lesson, I want to start with a question. What is the difference between transfiguration and conjuration?”

Harry, whose education had been light on magical theory, decided not to risk sounding unwise and remained quiet, allowing his wife to answer. “Transfiguration is changing one object to another, while conjuration is creating something out of nothing.”

“Correct, at least mostly, Mrs Potter. Mr Potter, which takes more magical energy, and why?”

Harry hesitated a moment. “In my experience, transfiguration takes less concentration than conjuration, so I guess that suggests that it takes less energy.” He paused, considering the next part of his answer, emulating his father. “It is logical that changing something takes a lot less energy than creating something. There was a Muggle scientist who conceived a formula that discussed that. He said that E=mc2, the ‘E’ standing for energy, the ‘m’ for mass, and the ‘c’ for the speed of light, which is a huge number. When he came up with the formula, he was basically saying that if matter is destroyed, it would release a massive amount of energy. But, logically, the opposite would be true; to create matter it would take a lot of energy. While I know that magic doesn’t always follow the rules I learned in physics class, my premise about the wave theory of spells suggested that perhaps a working knowledge of physics could help explain some of the theory behind magic.”

The Headmistress considered what he said. “Interesting. Once this war is done and we can reveal that you are indeed alive, I think that you should definitely investigate the joint fellowship with the Department of Mysteries and Oxford. You have some excellent ideas on magical theory, despite having little education on the subject.

“If I understand you correctly, science suggests that creating something out of nothing requires a lot of energy.” When Harry nodded, she continued. “While that most likely is true, conjuration is actually not creating something out of nothing, despite what many believe. In actuality, conjuration takes small pieces of matter from the environment, too small to see, and brings them together to make a new object. These small pieces of matter are called atoms by Muggles, Mrs Potter. But doing this does take much more magical energy than it does to change something into something else. It also helps explain why transfiguration of objects that are of similar size is easier than transfiguration of a large object from a smaller object, which is actually part transfiguration and part conjuration.

“Now, while discussing all this theory can be intellectually stimulating and I am sure that Miss Granger is going to be envious that she missed it,” she smirked, “what does this have to do with duelling?” She gave her students a few moments to think about it before answering her own question. “In a duel, it can be important to conserve your magical energy. While the two of you have much more power than possibly anyone in Britain, your past fights with Riddle have suggested that his power level is on a par with yours, so conserving energy may be essential for you to win. So, today we are going to focus on rapid transfiguration. I have asked the Room of Requirement to provide us a room with a lot of random objects that you can use to transfigure in a duel.”

Two hours later, Ginny trudged back to the Head Girl Suite, dripping with sweat and her robes dirty and wrinkled.

“Ginny, what happened to you?” asked Demelza, who she had run into just outside of the portrait hole.

Ginny sighed. “Supplementary Transfiguration work with Professor McGonagall. Because of the Death Eater attack, she wants to spend some extra time with me to make sure I can protect myself.” While most of the school was unaware that she had been the target of the Death Eater attack, she had shared that fact with a few of her closest friends.

Demelza chuckled. “Better you than me, if you look like that after a session with her. You look more tired than you do after a Quidditch practice.”

“I am more knackered than after Quidditch. I feel drained both physically and magically.”

“Make sure you get a shower before dinner,” Demelza teased, waving her hand in front of her nose. “You smell a little ripe.”

“Thanks, I was planning on it,” Ginny grumbled. She walked a few more steps before saying the password to her suite, “Mud Hens,” which was the mascot of the baseball team Harry had taken her to see on their honeymoon. The door swung open and she barely made it to the sofa before collapsing. A moment later, Harry appeared next to her.

“Not fair,” groused Ginny. “I had to walk all the way back here, and you get to Apparate.”

Harry grinned. “I would have been happy to walk back, but I don’t think we would want to explain why I was alive to any students that might see me in the corridors.”

“I know, but it’s still not fair.”

“Can I try to make it up to you?” asked Harry.

Ginny raised her eyebrow suspiciously. “What do you have in mind?”

Harry stood up and said, “You stay here and rest. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Ginny watched as he headed for her bedroom. Just before he closed the door, he looked back and said, “And no peeking, including mentally.”

Ginny picked up a copy of Witch Weekly to distract her from sensing Harry’s thoughts. Oliver Wood, former Keeper for Gryffindor and current professional Quidditch star, graced the cover as this year’s Most Eligible Bachelor. A few moments later, Harry returned. He came over and picked her up behind her back and under her legs.

“What are you doing, Harry?”

“Patience, my dear, patience.”

He carried her through her bedroom and into the bathroom, which was dimly lit with several candles floating in the air. The claw foot bathtub was filled with steaming water and bubbles. Ginny, delighted with his surprise, sat up a little and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Harry; it’s exactly what I need. How did you know?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I can feel every ache in your body, you know.” He set her down on her feet. “Now, should I leave you to enjoy your soak, or would you like some help getting out of those robes?”

Ginny stood on her tiptoes and put her arms around Harry’s neck, kissing him. Read my mind, Mr Potter.

**********

September 10th, 1998

Dear Aaron,

I hope your freshman year at college is going well. We have returned to Scotland, and Ginny is back in school. During the day, she attends lessons while I work at a shop in the nearby village. Her twin brothers own two magical joke shops and they have allowed me to work for them to give me something to do. It’s not very busy, but it does take my mind off of missing Ginny. We have learned that we can eavesdrop on each other through our Soul Bond, experiencing what the other one is doing, so sometimes I listen in on her classes.

Her favourite class this year is Transfiguration, what I called Matter Transformation in my letters last year. In this class she learns how to change something into something else, like when we turned a waffle into a gerbil for you and your parents. She is also taking Charms where she learns all types of spells; Arithmancy, sort of magical math; Ancient Runes, which studies magical symbols; and Potions, which is exactly what it sounds like. I didn’t take Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, so I am actually learning quite a bit from those. I thought I would be lost, since she has been taking them for four years, but somehow our Bond allows me to learn what she already knows. Her last class is Muggle Studies. Muggles are what magical people call non-magical people. She is supposed to be learning about Muggle culture and how they make do without magic, but, based on what she is being taught, I’m not sure if the professor has ever even seen a Muggle, nonetheless lived with them. Some of her ideas are downright hilarious. Last week she said that Muggles collect electricity by flying kites in thunderstorms. There is one additional course that she isn’t taking, Defence Against the Dark Arts, because the Headmistress stated that she already was far beyond what the course teaches, and that she would be better off continuing to learn from the tutor I had last year.

The other reason Ginny was not taking Defence was the change in teacher. Snape had been scheduled to teach Defence again, but apparently the curse on the position was still in place. A few days before the term was to start, the new Minister had “requested” that Snape take a position in the new Ministry. When the Headmistress protested at the last minute change, the Minister had “helped” by appointing Amycus Carrow as the new Defence instructor, as well as Liaison to the Minister, and the Headmistress had not been able to block the appointment. McGonagall had then advised her upper level Gryffindors that she would not recommend taking Defence, as she was concerned about his teaching methods. Ginny had heard rumours from classmates from other houses that they had been assigned a different class than the Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were taught nothing of value while the Slytherins instead were being taught Dark Arts, not the Defence of such. She had also heard that occasionally when a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw complained, they were punished by having to attend class with the Slytherins. When they returned from their punishment, they looked pale and tired, but they could not relate exactly what their punishment had been. Ginny suspected that memory charms were being used, but she could not prove it. Professor McGonagall, despite being Headmistress, had her hands tied in investigating this because of the power given Carrow by the Minister.

I’m really happy that you now know about magic. It’s nice being able to write the truth to you about my life and not to have to edit my letters to remove all mention of magic. Sometimes last year, I really struggled with how to keep you informed without outright lying to you. I’m sorry again about that.

After work I hang out in my flat above the shop. Sometimes I have dinner with one of the twins or with Ginny’s parents. In the evenings, she studies or performs school duties. She is Head Girl this year, which is sort of like the president of the senior class. She has to supervise the other student leaders, organize patrols, and be available to help the younger students. While it is a lot of work, there is one major perk. Because of her position, the Headmistress has allowed her to have a special suite, so I can spend most nights with her.

We had a little excitement the first day back at school. Some wizards and witches who follow Voldemort attacked the school, but Ginny and I, with the help of some first-year students, were able to repel them. You’ll laugh when you hear what we used as weapons! Paintball guns! My best mate, Ron, had the idea of putting magical potions in the paint balls instead of normal paint so that as soon as your opponent is hit with one, he falls asleep, passes out, or giggles uncontrollably.

That’s all that is occurring here. Write back and let me know how college is.

Brook

**********

“I just don’t understand it; this should be working! You seem to be doing everything the way the book says,” said an exasperated Hermione.

A few weeks after the unsuccessful attack on Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny were in the Room of Requirement with Hermione, working on casting Aufero Malum. She had acquired a cursed music box from Grimmauld place that had been stored in the attic for safe keeping when they had cleaned it out to use for Order Headquarters. The music box, when opened played music that caused an effect similar to the Imperius Curse and put the hearer in a very suggestive state. Various members of the Order had tried to remove the curse without success but she had hoped that Ginny and Harry could remove it with their spell. Everything worked exactly the way the book said it should. As the pair touched their wand tips together they said, “ Aufero Malum” and a white light emanated from the wands and struck the music box, but each time, Hermione did a diagnostic spell and determined that the curse was still present.

“Maybe we have the em-phas-is on the wrong syl-la-ble,” joked Harry.

“It’s not funny, Harry,” spat back Hermione. “If you were saying it wrong, there wouldn’t be any effect.”

“Sorry, Hermione, we’ve been working on this so long, I’m getting a little punchy.”

“And I’m getting a little testy. I’m sorry too,” replied Hermione with a sigh.

“Maybe we should take a break,” said Ginny. “Can I see your translations, Hermione? Perhaps a different set of eyes will see something different.”

Harry collapsed on a sofa and Ginny laid down between his legs, her back to his chest, with Hermione’s notes. Harry read over Ginny’s shoulder as they reviewed the notes while Hermione pulled out the original book to see if there were any other ways to translate the runes. After a while, Hermione heard slow breathing coming from the sofa and, when she looked, saw that Harry and Ginny had both fallen asleep. As she looked at her two best friends, she pushed back a pang of jealousy. She hadn’t seen Ron for two weeks; between their schedules there had just not been time. She looked at her watch, realizing that Ron should have just finished Quidditch practice. Time to surprise my fiancé! she thought and jumped up. She wrote a short note to Harry and Ginny and left quickly, going to Headmistress McGonagall’s office to take the Floo to Ballycastle.

Ginny slowly awoke and snuggled into Harry’s arms, revelling in the chance to just be with him on a lazy Saturday afternoon. As she wakened fully, she had a feeling that there was an idea at the back of her mind that had occurred to her shortly before falling asleep, but try as hard as she could, it just wouldn’t come to her.

**********

“So, how was your ‘vacation,’ Aaron? Find what you were looking for?” asked Fred.

Harry, in his surfer dude disguise, had just opened the shop for the day when one of his bosses arrived, checking on the shop. “No, we couldn’t find even a hint of what we were looking for.”

Harry, Sirius, Remus, and Bill had just spent the last week in Albania, trying to find information on Voldemort’s soul receptacle. They had searched forests, pubs, Wizarding villages, caves, and even a giant enclave, but could not unearth even one indication where he might have hidden the vessel.

“Well, considering that the trip was a bust, you look awfully happy,” Fred teased, noticing the goofy grin on Harry’s face.

He had returned late last evening, and Ginny made sure he knew how much she had missed him. “I did receive a nice welcome home last night from my wife,” he said with a smirk.

“That’s all I want to hear about that, mate.” He looked around the shop, and then cast a Silencing Charm before urging, “Come on, tell me about your trip.”

As Harry began, he held up a hand. “Wait, Ginny’s just arrived at an Order meeting and I want to listen in. I’ll fill you in when they are done.” Harry tuned his senses to his wife’s as she entered the dining room at Grimmauld Place.

“Sorry we’re late; Professor Slughorn kept Miss Weasley after Potions today.” Professor McGonagall and Ginny had just taken the Floo from Hogwarts to Grimmauld Place for a partial meeting of the Order. Professor Flitwick, Sirius, and Snape were all waiting.

“Yeah, he’s trying to make sure that I’m one of his ‘Slug Club,’” grumbled Ginny. But then her face brightened as she added, “He did offer to introduce me to Gwenog Jones, though, to give me a leg up on making the Harpies next year.”

Snape snorted, causing the heads in the room to turn to him. “As much as we all care about your Quidditch career, Miss Weasley, can we please get started?” insisted Snape. “I have other things to do today.”

Professor McGonagall bit off a retort, but instead said, “You are right, Severus. We all have busy schedules. Do you have anything to report? How is your role at the Ministry going?”

Before he could answer, Hermione asked, “Excuse me, Professor, but could you tell us exactly what you are doing there? I’ve only heard bits and pieces.”

Snape closed his eyes and sighed before sneering at Hermione. “If you must know, Miss Granger, I am serving on the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. I have been ordered to assist Senior Undersecretary Umbridge in her interrogations. I provide her with Veritaserum or other potions as needed.”

Hermione was outraged and stood up, pointing her wand at Snape. “How dare you?! How can you help something so, so, bigoted and intolerant?” Her face was bright red and she looked like she wanted to hex her former professor.

“Calm down, Miss Granger,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Why should I?! I have heard rumours of what they are doing. Umbridge is accusing people of stealing magic from pure-bloods, resulting in an increase in Squibs. How ridiculous! You can’t steal magic. If I wasn't employed by the Department of Mysteries, I might already have been called in before them.”

“Sit down, Miss Granger, and Severus will explain,” said Professor McGonagall. Ginny put a hand on her forearm, urging her to listen to him. Hermione took a deep breath and sat down.

“As I said, before I was interrupted,” said Snape, obviously perturbed, “I am providing her with potions, but I am not providing her with full strength Veritaserum, so most of those being interrogated are able to overcome its effects. There is just enough of the ingredients to cause a little of the dazed effect. I also provide healing potions when the interrogations become physical, unbeknownst to Secretary Umbridge. If you had been paying attention to what was going on at the Ministry, you would have known that most of the people who are brought before the Commission have been released because they actually have some relative that is magical. The Minister is actually unsatisfied with the outcomes and I have heard rumours that he may sack Umbridge shortly.”

Hermione’s head turned down. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have leapt to the wrong conclusions.”

Professor McGonagall then took the floor again. “Severus, have you learned the reason why Voldemort attempted to kidnap Miss Weasley at the beginning of the term?”

“No, he has not shared his reasons with anyone as far as I am aware. He is, however, preparing another secret location that Lucius Malfoy found for him. Only Malfoy knew where it is.”

“Knew?” asked Sirius.

“Yes,” responded Snape. “Apparently, Voldemort was unhappy with Lucius’ performance during the attack on Hogsmeade because Voldemort killed him that evening.”

Gasps could be heard around the table. Snape continued, “For some reason, Voldemort has taken Draco under his wing and is working with him behind closed doors. No one knows what they are planning.”

“Keep your ears open. Thank you for your help.” She turned to Sirius. “Sirius, what do you have to report concerning your trip to Albania?”

Sirius quickly summarized their trip, which was unproductive.

“So, we are basically back to square one in finding the object in which Voldemort has hidden part of his soul,” said McGonagall. “Severus, has the Dark Lord said anything that might be a clue as to where he has hidden it?”

Snape sneered. “We have already discussed this to death. No, he hasn’t. If I had known Black had nothing to report, I would not have come.” He stood to leave, saying, “I have to get back to Malfoy Manor; Voldemort is very insistent that I be available to attend him.”

“Why do you need to ‘attend him’?” asked Ginny.

“Why should I tell you?” Snape spat out, contempt in his voice. “You shouldn’t even be here. You’re just a silly school girl who should have stayed at Hogwarts.”

“Severus, please be polite,” said an exasperated McGonagall. “We’ve talked about this before. Miss Weasley is intimately involved in this, especially since she is Voldemort’s prime target currently. Please answer her question. I know she is not the only one here interested in your response.”

Snape sat back down. “The reason that things have been relatively quiet over the last six weeks is that Voldemort has been ill and no one can figure out what is wrong with him. All of his energies are focused currently on this ailment. He had two Healers from St. Mungo’s kidnapped, but they failed to find any answers either. Since they couldn’t help him, he thinks that somehow he has been cursed. He has me brewing different potions to alleviate his symptoms as well as researching Dark curses that could be causing the problem.”

“What are his symptoms?” asked Flitwick.

“He has these episodes of severe pain that last a relatively short time, always less than an hour, but then he is so fatigued afterwards that he has difficulty doing anything but sleep for hours. The first time, his screaming was so loud that he woke up everyone staying at the Manor and we thought that there might be an earthquake because the whole building was shaking. He admitted to the Healers that the pain is worse than the Cruciatus. As a matter of fact, the first time, he thought that perhaps someone under a Disillusionment Spell or an invisibility cloak must have been using the Cruciatus on him. Unlike that curse, he isn’t developing any tolerance to the pain for its severity is not lessening. Pain potions don’t help prevent the symptoms or speed the recovery afterwards either. He has a permanent Silencing Charm on his bed chamber, but the house still trembles whenever he has one of these episodes, so we all know about it. Of course, no one talks about it in his presence, but there is a lot of whispering behind his back, wondering if he is dying or something.”

“How long has this been going on? And how often are these spells?” asked Hermione.

“It started in the middle of August. For the next few weeks, they would happen seemingly at random, sometimes several times per day. Since the first of September, he has improved a little in that the episodes have been less frequent, occurring more days than not, but rarely more than once a day. He had one time, about three weeks ago when he didn‘t have any episodes for about three days, and then, this past week, he thought the treatment of the second healer was working because he had no problems for eight days, but then last night they came back multiple times. That Healer was tortured to death this morning because of his failure,” Snape added.

Ginny sent a message to Harry through their link, Are you listening to this?

Yeah.

I think I am seeing a pattern; let’s see if you agree.

Harry detected a trace of amusement coming through in addition to the message. What’s so funny?

Just pay attention. If I’m right, you’ll see.

Hermione continued in her questions. “When exactly did this start? Did he do anything abnormal or see anyone shortly before this started?”

“Why are you asking all these questions, Granger? You’re certainly not thinking of helping the Dark Lord, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Hermione answered back, irritated. “But if I can figure out what is wrong with him, then maybe we can take advantage of it. And I do have the most extensive magical library in Britain at my disposal in the Department of Mysteries. The more information I have, the more likely I’ll be to find the curse or whatever it is in the collection.” She waited a few seconds for this to sink in and then re-asked her questions.

Snape thought for a moment. “As I recall, the first episode was a Saturday evening in middle of August. I can’t think of anything different in the week before the first attack. He was planning the invasion of Hogwarts to capture Miss Weasley, but he had delegated that to Malfoy and the Lestranges by then.”

“And you say that for about two weeks he would have multiple occurrences a day and then since then for the most part he is only having them daily?”

“Actually, they seem to be only occurring at night recently. Except for occasionally on the weekends during the day.”

Harry detected even more amusement coming from Ginny as she was trying to suppress a giggle. What is it, Ginny?

Think, Harry. What happened on a Saturday in the middle of August that could affect Voldemort?

You’ve lost me.

Oh, how quickly you forget. Is this the way it’s going to be, Potter?

What are you talking about?

Maybe I’ll just have to remind you. Now Harry sensed mischief through their Bond before receiving a memory from Ginny.

Ginny! I’m trying to work here, and right next to one of your brothers, too! Harry called over to Fred, who was with a customer, “Fred, can you cover the register for a moment? I need to use the loo.”

“Sure.” As he walked around the counter, Fred asked, “You alright, there, Aaron? All of a sudden you’re all red and sweaty.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine in a moment,” he replied as he hurried to the back room. When he was behind closed doors, Okay, Ginny, not that I mind being reminded of our honeymoon, but what has that to do with Voldemort?

Think, Harry. His first attack was on a Saturday in the middle of August, followed by two weeks of multiple episodes a day. Then, since the first of September, he has been having them almost every night.

Harry gasped. You don’t think?

I do think. It would even go along with the Prophecy. You know, the ‘power he knows not.’ Let me confirm my suspicions. Ginny cleared her voice. “Professor Snape, you said that he didn’t have any of these episodes for about a week (while you were in Albania she added to Harry) but they came back again last night. Can you tell me exactly what times last night?”

“Why would that matter?”

“Just trying to help Hermione figure it out, sir.”

“Okay. Last night, the first attack was about … maybe 10:00 or 10:30. Then, no problems overnight, but this morning one occurred during breakfast, at 7:00 and then again about half an hour later.”

“I see. That is helpful.” Harry, that has to be it! Remember how I greeted you when you arrived back last night?

How could I forget! And then I woke you up early this morning before you had to get up for classes.

And then we decided to conserve water when I took my shower shortly afterwards. We should do that more often, by the way.

I agree, but back to the issue at hand. I think you’re right. The pattern does seem to fit. So, we’ve figured out what is causing Voldemort’s pain. But how is this happening?

Maybe because of our links to him? We know that you can feel his emotions through your scar. Maybe the love we are feeling is traveling back to him the same way.

I guess that makes sense. What do we do now?

I think we should commit to inflicting as much pain on him as we can. Harry could almost see her smirk as she thought that.

That goes without saying. But what do you tell the Order? You can’t exactly tell Snape and Flitwick that you know what’s causing his problems since they both think that I’m dead.

Oh, hadn’t thought about that. And even with the ones that do know, I don’t think I want my family knowing that we are helping to bring Voldemort’s downfall by having sex as often as we can.

Why don’t you just tell Hermione; that way she won’t waste any time researching it, and she can just say that she couldn’t find anything.

While Harry and Ginny were conversing, Hermione continued to ask questions, and she finally stopped when she was satisfied that there was nothing else that Snape could tell her. Ginny sat through the rest of the meeting, hearing what the rest of the Order was up to, but not really listening, while Harry returned to his place behind the counter. When the meeting was over, Ginny asked to speak to Hermione in one of the spare bedrooms. After placing a Silencing Charm on the room, she explained the conclusion that she and Harry had come to, causing the older witch to break down giggling.

“You mean, that you and Harry are causing the demise of the most powerful Dark wizard this century by shagging?”

Ginny put her arm against her forehead and sighed. “The sacrifices Harry and I have to make to bring down Voldemort. I’ll try to stand it, but it will be difficult,” prompting both women to giggle again as they left the room to walk to the Floo.

At that moment, Snape walked by, the typical sneer on his face. “I don’t understand what is so funny in this time of war. You two should be focusing on how to defeat Voldemort, not giggling in the hallways like school girls.”

Ginny removed the smile off her face and said, “I assure you, Professor, I promise to do everything I can to defeat Voldemort.”

“Make sure that you do.” He turned, threw some powder into the fireplace and yelled, “Malfoy Manor!” before disappearing in the green flames. As soon as he was gone, Ginny doubled over in laughter again, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Well, one of the leaders of the Order told me to, so I guess I have to.” Are you okay with that, Harry?

Harry, who had been suppressing laughter himself as he waited on a customer, responded, Snape always complained that I couldn’t follow instructions properly. I guess we’ll have to prove him wrong this time.

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