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SIYE Time:16:54 on 28th March 2024
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Hail Odysseus
By Brennus

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence/Physical Abuse
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 370
Summary: After believing that Harry Potter died in a house fire at the age of ten, the Wizarding world is shocked when he returns out of the blue, just in time to attend his seventh year at Hogwarts. They're even more shocked when he's Sorted into Slytherin.
Hitcount: Story Total: 119974; Chapter Total: 7494
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Ah, chapter 15 and the body count is starting to rise nicely. In this chapter, Harry corrects an error, Madam Bones starts turning nasty and Ginny spends a lot of time on her back (off screen, naturally).

Huge thanks to Arnel who had to work overtime correcting my mistakes on this one. In my defence, I did have a bad cold when I did my final check through. *sniff*




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Chapter 15 —Blind Men and Fools



Gellert Grindelwald strode forward, as angry as he’d ever been in his life. Even after his beloved fiancé had died, he had not experienced a level of rage as he felt now. No, this was a new experience for him, and one that boded ill for any adversary he met.

They had been tricked, simple as that, and he had lost precious days in discovering how. In the end, he had learned the betrayal had come from the goblins, of all people. A greedy and self-serving goblin named Griphook, realising that the Potter vault was again in use, had sold information to Voldemort. Furthermore, the treacherous goblin had helped the Dark Lord slip Harry a Portkey disguised as an official Gringotts document.

The fact that the goblins had been horrified that their prized neutrality had been compromised mattered little to Gellert, but the fact that it had taken three days for them to capture their missing employee had enraged him. Every moment that passed lessened the chances of finding him alive, although he took hope from the fact that Harry’s body had not been dumped in some public place as a testament to Voldemort’s victory.

No race can inflict pain and suffering as efficiently as the goblins, and Griphook had been broken within hours. Unable to endure the agony imposed on him, the goblin had revealed the name of a place that he had met servants of the Dark Lord: Little Hangleton. As soon as he had heard that name, Gellert had been out the door as fast as his legs could carry him. Making only the briefest of detours home to collect a few items, he Apparated to the Northern village with murder in his heart. He knew exactly where to start looking, too.

Pulling the black robes he had donned tight around him, he strode confidently up to the Riddle House. As he suspected, the Death Eaters hadn’t had placed any serious protections on the place yet, a mark of their arrogance, he supposed, and it wasn’t like they could hide the house from the Muggles, either. It was a well-known landmark, and its sudden disappearance would undoubtedly attract attention.

Approaching the house, a dark-robbed figure stepped out of the shadows and raised his hand.

“Who are you…” the man began, only to fall to the ground as Gellert’s Killing Curse hit him squarely in the chest. Pausing only to pick up the dead man’s mask, he continued into the house.

Inside, all was deathly quiet. Following his instinct that prisoners would always be kept below ground whenever possible, he began to seek an entrance to a cellar or dungeon. After some hunting, he eventually found a narrow stone stairway leading off from the kitchen. Putting on the Death Eater’s mask, he descended into the damp, dark stone passageway.

He found himself in a small room which had two corridors leading from it in opposite directions. At random, he picked the left hand path, and strode confidently on. Turning a corner, he almost walked straight into another Death Eater who had been standing in front of a large, metal door.

“Hey, it’s not time to…” the man started to say before he too fell dead. Mercy was not on Gellert’s agenda today.

Hunting through the man’s robes, he soon found a large, metal key which he slipped into the lock of the door. With a satisfying click, the door swung open and Gellert was able to enter. What he saw nearly made his heart stop.

“Harry!” he cried and hurried forward. There, lying naked on the floor, was his young apprentice. The young man was filthy and covered in blood, particularly his left foot, which was a crusted mass of red and black. There were dozens of scars over his body, and more bruises than Gellert could count. Harry was shivering uncontrollably and sobbing to himself.

“Harry, it’s me; Gellert,” he said urgently, removing his mask. The boy remained unresponsive, however, and Gellert cursed himself for not bringing some healing potions with him. He cast a few Healing Charms on Harry, but it was clear that he needed urgent medical attention. He needed to get him out of…

The faintest of sounds saved his life. Gellert dimly heard something rubbing against the stone floor and he turned his head to see a large snake slithering towards him, its jaws already opening, ready to strike. It was fortunate that his wand was already in his hand, or he wouldn’t have had time to grab it. As it was, he just managed to fire off a Blasting Charm just as the beast lunged.

The snake was thrown backwards and slammed into the far wall, its head nearly severed. Gellert watched in shocked fascination as a green mist began to rise from the creature’s body. For a moment, he was unable to process exactly what that meant, but even as the realisation struck him, he struggled to believe it.

A soft moan from Harry snapped him to his senses. Placing a Feather-Light Charm on the injured boy, Gellert tossed him over his shoulder and virtually ran out of the room. If the snake was what he thought it was, then surely Voldemort would be nearby. He couldn’t afford for the Dark Lord to discover he was still alive, not at this time.

With a speed that belied his advanced years, Gellert sprinted back the way he’d come…


HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPH P

Alfred Crabbe landed roughly on the hard, tarmacked surface of the Muggle road. The soft popping noises that came from behind him informed him that the other eight Death Eaters had also arrived. He turned and surveyed his group, a feeling of pride gripping him that he had been chosen to lead this, the first of many planned raids against the despicable Muggles.

“Right, get organised, you lot,” he growled. “Remember the plan; we make our way up this road, destroying everything in our path. Once we reach the centre of the village, we’ll split up into pairs and we can have some fun. Our mission is to do as much damage, and kill as many Muggles, as we can. Get yourselves into two lines, one either side of the road, now!”

Crabbe knew that he wasn’t destined to be a great general or leader. His forte was bullying the lesser ranks into doing what was required. If put into crude Muggle terms, he was the Dark Lord’s Sargent-Major, shouting at the new recruits and instilling an iron-hard discipline into them. That was why he was leading this first raid: to control the less-disciplined members of the group and to make sure they did the things right. With the element of surprise on their side it was unlikely they would meet any organised resistance, thus allowing him to use this raid as an operational training exercise, and hopefully to have a bit of fun, of course.

He strode forward at the head of the line, and got the party started by launching a Blasting Charm at the nearest house. He managed to blow a large, ragged hole in the wall, and he could faintly hear screams coming from the inside. Grinning, he eagerly stepped forward, only to feel his leg impeded by something. Looking down, he saw he had caught against a thin wire strung across the road at about knee high.

“What the…” he managed to say, before several hundred small steel balls ripped into him at a speed of nearly four thousand feet a second. His face and upper shoulders literally disintegrated in this blast of steel.

The two Death Eaters nearest to Crabbe were also hit, one falling dead like a stone while the other, who only caught part of the blast, screamed in agony as his arm was torn off at the elbow. His compatriots looked around in confusion and horror. As no enemies appeared to be in sight, they had no idea what to do. Only one of them noticed the pair of metal, egg-shaped objects come sailing through the air towards them, and he had no idea what they were, anyway. He was as surprised as the rest of the group when the metal eggs exploded, sending ribbons of red-hot shrapnel into their bodies. As the Death Eaters had been packed close together, the detonations claimed another four of their number.

If the few surviving members of the group still standing thought their ordeal was over, they soon realised their mistake. A pair of bright flashes, accompanied by a thunderous rattling sound, erupted in front of them. The narrow street was suddenly awash with bullets, as a pair of submachine guns sprayed the area in a deadly crossfire. Screams echoed briefly through the still night, before abruptly halting.

“Hey!” a disgruntled female voice declared. “Yours is bigger than mine!”

Male laughter filled the air. “That’s only right and proper, Ginny,” the man replied. “Besides, I thought the Skorpion was a more lady-like weapon. It kind of suits you, you know.”

“You’re holding out on me, Potter,” Ginny snarled, marching over to him. “Why do I get this titchy little gun and you get that thing?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll get you your own MP-5 for next time, satisfied?” Harry promised.

“I should think so,” she sniffed. “So, did we get them all?”

“Let’s have a look,” he replied, starting forward. “Yuck! I’d avoid the lead one, if I were you. It looks like the Claymore Mine took most of his face off.”

“I guess we won’t be identifying that one, then,” she noted distastefully. “Do you recognise any of the others?”

Harry quickly went around the other bodies, pulling their masks off and making sure they were dead. A quick survey confirmed they had wiped out all nine of the Death Eaters.

“Nope, I don’t recognise any of them,” he said in a disappointed voice. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be getting any new intelligence from this lot.”

“It can’t be helped,” she shrugged. “Anyway, don’t you think we ought to get out of here? I think I saw someone watching us through the curtains in that house over there.”

“You’re right, love,” Harry agreed. “Shall we?”

With a soft pop, both of the gun-toting teenagers disappeared.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Amelia Bones surveyed the carnage in disbelief. Nine Death Eaters dead and no sign of their attackers, at all! She was confused, and not a little concerned.

“The Muggle police have all been taken care of, Madam,” a voice declared behind her. She turned and saw Auror Dawlish standing there. A good man, she thought, if a little impetuous.

“Very good, Dawlish,” she responded. “Have your men found anything?”

“Nothing of note, Madam,” he replied. “We’re still mystified what could have caused all this.”

“Muggle weapons, you blithering idiot!” a new voice shouted. Amelia didn’t have to turn around to recognise who was speaking this time.

“Muggle weapons, you say, Alastor?” she queried in disbelief. “I find that a little hard to believe.”

“Don’t be foolish, Amelia,” Alastor Moody snapped. “The Muggles have some nasty toys these days, as these worthless toe rags found out.”

“Are you suggesting a bunch of Muggles killed these Death Eaters? Don’t be ridiculous, Mad-Eye,” Dawlish scoffed.

“Of course they bloody did,” Moody spat, glaring at the younger man. “Look at the bodies, you fool. They’re covered in gunshot wounds. There looks to have been several explosions around here, too. That could have been caused by a number of things: rockets, bombs, grenades…”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Amelia exclaimed. “You really believe that Muggles are responsible for this.”

“Yes,” Moody said firmly.

“Then we have a problem,” she mused. “Despite the fact that the dead are followers of You-Know-Who, the Wizarding community will be up in arms if they find out a group of witches and wizards have been killed by Muggles. Indeed, if it becomes common knowledge that they have weapons that can harm us, we could be facing an all-out war! The community will flock to the Dark Lord’s side! We need to suppress this.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. The only people who know what happened are my Aurors and they’re not going to say anything,” Dawlish shrugged.

“Good, make sure they don’t. Impress upon them that what happened here today is top secret,” Amelia said sternly. “In the meantime, I want your people to start interviewing any of the local Muggles to see if they saw anything. Make sure they’re all Obliviated once you’re finished. Moody, I want you to get in touch with your contacts and see if they can shed any light on this.”

“Certainly, Amelia,” Moody agreed gruffly. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to contact the Muggle government to see if they know who’s behind this, and pray that don’t. If this was the work of a legitimate Muggle agency, we might well be seeing the start of a concerted attack on the Wizarding world,” she said grimly.

“I don’t know, Amelia,” Moody said shaking his head. “If this was the work of the Muggle government, I doubt they would have just left the bodies lying around here.”

“I hope you’re right,” Amelia sighed, and turned to leave. Being Minister for Magic was not proving to be an easy job.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The next day, an emergency meeting was held in Madam Bones’s office. Most of her Heads of Departments were present, as were Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody. Amelia sat behind her desk and explained the situation to the assembled group.

“I’ve spoken to the Muggle Prime Minister, and he assures me that they had nothing to do with the incident yesterday,” she told them. “I took the opportunity to perform a Legilimency scan on him, and it confirmed what he said.”

“My contacts with the Muggle Police certainly knew nothing about the incident,” agreed Kingsley Shacklebolt, her newly promoted Head of Magical Law Enforcement.

“Could this be the work of some sort vigilante group?” the Senior Undersecretary asked.

“It’s certainly looking that way,” Amelia confirmed with a sigh. “I’m sure I don’t need to stress how serious this situation could be. If the Wizarding world gets wind that a group of Muggles are out hunting wizards, even if they are Death Eaters, then there will be uproar.

“Surely the Muggles have a right to defend themselves?” the Head of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes protested.

“Those Death Eaters were butchered,” the Head of International Magical Cooperation pointed out. “Irrespective of who they were, if the knowledge that the Muggles can do this sort of thing to us gets out, we’ll have a riot on our hands!”

“Quite right,” Amelia agreed firmly. “I want this incident suppressed completely! No one, and I mean no one outside of this office, must learn of it. If anyone does blab, they’ll be spending an extended stay at Azkaban. Understand?”

Everyone meekly nodded.

“Good, now, I think I need to know what I’m up against. Kingsley, I want you to commission a report on Muggle weapons and their capabilities. Get some of those useless Unspeakables to help you, if you want. I want to know what they are using, how much damage they can inflict, and how we combat it. Got that?” Amelia ordered.

“Of course, Minister,” Kingsley agreed softly.

“I also want everyone with contacts in the Muggle world to start putting out feelers. I want to know who it is that killed those Death Eaters, and why they did it. Give this top priority, but for Merlin’s sake, keep it quiet,” she told them, giving them all a steely glare.

They all nodded again.

“Right, unless anyone else has anything to add…” she began.

“Actually, Amelia, I’m afraid I do,” Dumbledore interrupted.

“This isn’t another of your lectures on how misunderstood Muggles are, is it, Albus?” Amelia asked sourly.

“No, it’s a rather more worrying matter, I’m afraid,” he replied calmly. “You see, Harry Potter appears to have gone missing.”

“Missing?” Amelia snapped. “What do you mean, missing?”

“He appears to have absconded from Hogwarts several days ago, apparently in the company of one Miss Ginevra Weasley. I have mounted a search for him, but so far have been unsuccessful in locating the young man,” Dumbledore explained breezily.

“Several days ago? Why the blood hell didn’t you mention this sooner, Albus? You’re fully aware of my opinions regarding Potter, and I specifically told you that I wanted him watched closely,” Amelia spat.

“Harry is, I have to say, a most resourceful young man, and managed to vanish without me or any of my staff noticing. I would remind you that he managed to hide from the Wizarding community for nearly eight years, and clearly has some talent for remaining unseen,” Albus explained apologetically.

“Wait a minute,” Moody interrupted. “Ginevra Weasley? As in Arthur and Molly’s youngest?”

“That’s correct,” Dumbledore confirmed.

“But she can’t be of age yet,” Moody noted.

“Indeed, she is sixteen at present, with her seventeenth birthday in August,” the old wizard confirmed.

“Well, that’s it then,” Amelia cried, “our excuse to bring him in! Kingsley, issue a warrant for the arrest of Harry Potter on the charge of kidnapping a minor.”

“Right away, Minister,” Kingsley confirmed reluctantly.

Amelia noticed the man’s reticence, but ignored it. She didn’t trust Potter one inch, and this was the pretence she needed to bring him to heel. The boy was up to no good, she could feel it. If only this hadn’t happened at the same time as this damnable mess with the Muggle vigilantes.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry opened the front door of the house and marched in. He found Ginny curled up on the sofa watching television; some sort of daytime soap opera from Australia, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Well, the balloon’s gone up,” he said, dropping a newspaper on the sofa next to her. Ginny picked it up and began to scan the front page.

“Harry Potter kidnaps underage girl,” she read out loud. “Mr Potter! Have you abducted some poor, innocent, little girl and had your wicked way with her?”

“Numerous times, actually,” he smirked sitting down next to her, “and, as I recall, she was very happy about it.”

“Yeah, she was actually,” Ginny winked. “Wow, The Prophet has really gone overboard with this, haven’t they? I’ll be of age in six months, for Merlin’s sake. They make me sound about five here!”

“I sense the insidious hand of Madam Bones behind this,” he snorted. “She’s obviously decided to use this as a means of ruining me. I can’t say that I’m surprised, but it is a pain in the arse.”

“Are you regretting bringing me with you?” Ginny asked in a concerned voice.

“Never,” Harry declared adamantly. “You’d have been dead meat if I’d left you back at Hogwarts, and I’ve loved every second of us being together. I was serious when I said I couldn’t do this without you, and I stand by that.”

Ginny leaned over and gently kissed him.

“See? I’m feeling better already,” he joked.

“Glad I could help,” she smiled. “So, apart from picking up the paper, did you have any luck in Diagon Alley? You spent long enough putting on those Glamour Charms, after all.”

“Nah, a total bust,” Harry admitted in frustration. “I’d really hoped that Rookwood would show up, but he seems to be keeping a low profile. I suspect that wiping out that group of Death Eaters the other day has made the rest of them a bit skittish.”

“I meant to ask about that. There’s no mention in the paper about that, at all. I would have thought that nine Death Eaters getting rubbed out would have been worthy of at least a few paragraphs,” she frowned.

“Yeah, I would have thought so, too. I’m starting to wonder if the way we took them down has something to do with it. I mean, we used Muggle weapons because they were the best way to attack a closely packed group like that, but what if the Ministry read something else into it? Maybe they think that the Muggles are starting to attack wizards, or something,” Harry pondered.

“That could cause a whole heap of trouble,” Ginny admitted. “On the other hand, no one has the slightest idea that it was us who staged the ambush.”

“True, but next time I think we’d better mix in some magic when we attack the Death Eaters. We don’t want to inadvertently start a war between us and the Muggles,” Harry decided.

“Fair enough. So, as we don’t have a dead Death Eater to interrogate, what do you fancy doing this afternoon? And don’t say shagging; I’m spending half my time on my back, as it is!” Ginny said pointedly.

“Funny, I didn’t hear you complaining,” he grinned. “Okay, if you’re not up for some rumpy-pumpy, how about we head down the pub?”

“Now you’re talking!” she said enthusiastically. “Let me go and get changed.”

Ginny leapt off the sofa and ran upstairs. She returned about ten minutes later, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a black leather jacket.

“Hmm, I like the look,” Harry grinned. “Sexy and dangerous. How about we hit that place down by the docks?”

“Sounds good to me. Just make sure you’ve got your wallet,” she said, already heading out the door.

Half-an-hour later, they were sitting in the large, Tudor-styled pub they had spotted on their first day in Bristol, but hadn’t previously had the chance to visit. By this point, both of them had fake Muggle ID’s, so they had no problems purchasing alcoholic drinks.

“So, have you decided what to do about Dumbledore yet?” Ginny asked as they sat down in a secluded dark-wood booth. For some reason, she’d foregone her favoured alcopops, and ordered a bottle of lager instead.

“Yeah, I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he admitted, taking a sip of his pint. “My main worry up to this point was that if I took out Dumbledore, our best mate Tom would feel free to start wreaking havoc unchecked. After what Macnair said, however, I don’t think taking Dumbles out of the game will have much effect.”

“Nah, he did say that Tom thought the old git was no threat anymore, didn’t he?” Ginny agreed.

“Indeed, but that makes me worried, too. If Tom does move against the old man, he’s bound to take his wand after he kills him, and I don’t want Riddle anywhere near the Elder Wand. I think we need to ambush Albus sooner rather than later, if only to protect the wand. The fact that the arrogant bastard condemned me to living in hell during my early years is a motivating factor, too,” Harry growled.

“It won’t be easy,” Ginny cautioned. “Dumbledore is still an incredibly powerful wizard, and with the Deathstick in his hands, he’ll be nearly unbeatable.”

“True, if I intended to fight him face to face, but you know me; I’m a sneaky bastard,” he grinned.

“Very true, love,” Ginny nodded appreciatively. “So, do you know how to take him down?”

“I’ve a few ideas, but I’ve got more important things to concentrate on at the moment,” Harry informed her.

“Like what?” she asked with a raise eyebrow.

“Like drinking about a million of these,” he said waving his nearly empty bear glass at her, “and then taking you home and shagging you repeatedly on the sofa.”

“Throw in a Chinese take-away as well, and you’ve got a deal,” she replied breezily.

Harry smiled in agreement.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHP

“Amelia, your Aurors are a bunch of blockheads!” Moody yelled as he threw open the door to the Minister’s office.

Madam Bones looked up in shock to see her old friend standing in the doorway clutching a role of parchment in his hand. He stomped forward, at least, as well as anyone with one leg can stomp, and stood defiantly in front of her desk.

“Minister, I’m so sorry,” gibbered her Senior Assistant, Weasley, as he meekly trailed Moody into her office. “I tried to stop him, but he just ignored me!”

“That’s alright, Weasley, you can leave,” Amelia growled, making a mental note to replace the toadying little twerp as soon as possible. The fact that it was his sister who ran off with Potter didn’t exactly endear the young man to her, either.

“But don’t you want me to…” Weasley began.

“Out, NOW!” Amelia bellowed.

Weasley nearly broke the door in his hurry to slam it shut behind him.

“Now, what’s all this about, Alastor? What have my Aurors done to offend you this time?” she asked wearily.

“They’ve been doing their usual half-arsed job,” he raged. “I’ve been going through the evidence collected from the Death Eater massacre, and I found this little gem. It’s a statement taken from a Muggle who lived in the street where the attack took place. It was discounted as the woman didn’t actually witness what happened to the Death Eaters. Here, read it yourself.”

Amelia took the parchment from Moody and began to read it curiously. The statement had obviously been taken surreptitiously using an Auto-Inking parchment, judging by the rambling style of writing. She hurried over most of the background details, but came to an abrupt halt when she read the last but one paragraph.

“…rushed out but I couldn’t see anything, I’m afraid. I’m sure there are other people who could be of more use to you than me. Actually, there was a young couple hanging around outside just before all the noise started, now I think about it. They caught my eye because they were such a striking pair. The young man was very handsome, with long, black hair and the young woman, oh, such a pretty little thing! She had the most vivid red hair, she did. I’d never seen them around here before, so perhaps they were visiting someone? Anyway, if you track them down I’m sure they would have seen something. It’s terrible what goes on these days, isn’t it? Why, if my Stanley was alive today he…”

Amelia stared at the parchment for a moment as her brain registered the significance of the words.

“A young couple with black and red hair who just happen to be hanging around before the attack?” she blurted.

“It’s bloody Potter, isn’t it? He’s up to his old tricks again,” Moody noted grimly.

“The little shit!” Amelia spat. “I specifically warned him not to pull any of his vigilante crap again, and he’s ignored me!”

“You’re losing your touch, Amelia,” Moody sniggered.

“Shut up, Alastor,” she growled, when a thought occurred to her. “He’s never used Muggle weapons before. Do you think he was deliberately trying to make us blame the Muggles to stir up trouble?”

“I don’t think so,” Moody said, shaking his head. “Besides, I’m not so sure he hasn’t used Muggle weapons previously. Some of those Death Eaters he killed last year were so mangled you couldn’t tell what happened to them. No, I think he’s just been using some of the toys he has in his locker. I may not trust the arrogant little bastard, but I will admit he’s never had anything to do with all this pure-blood nonsense. Plus, if he was trying to blame the Muggles, he and the Weasley girl would have disguised themselves, wouldn’t they?”

“Good point,” she acknowledged. “So, it appears the girl is as implicated as he is.”

“Seems that way. From what I saw, she’s a vicious little bitch and quite handy with her wand. I’m not surprised Potter recruited her, she seems the type,” Moody noted.

“Yes, Susan said as much. Weasley hospitalised poor Hannah Abbott, Susan’s best friend, remember. No doubt she and Potter get on like a house on fire,” Amelia sniffed.

“So what do you want to do about this?” Moody asked.

“Why, we go public with it,” Amelia announced. “Amend the warrant for Potter’s arrest; uprate it to ‘Terrorist Activities’ and include the Weasley girl in it. If that evil little bastard thinks he’s going to get away with this, he’s mistaken!”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

At that exact moment, just a couple of miles north of where Madam Bones sat, an old man was looking up at a three-story house in trepidation. The fact that no one had been able to enter this particular property for some years had always intrigued him, and the knowledge that he was being allowed to concerned him.

Frowning to himself, Dumbledore reached into the pocket of the Muggle-style suit jacket he was wearing and pulled out the note that he’d received that morning. It was short, sharp and could only have come from one person.

Dumbledore

Sorr y about the Sleeping Potion, but consider it payback for lying to me about having my Father’s cloak.

We need to talk. Meet me at my godfather’s old house this lunchtime. Come alone. If I even get a whiff of one of that hag Bones’s Aurors, I’ll be gone and you’ll never see me again.


There was no signature on the letter, but there didn’t need to be. Dumbledore sighed, and wondered how best to approach this meeting. The fact that Potter had destroyed the diary meant that he had at least an idea of the book’s importance. What other secrets was the boy privy to?

Deciding that prevaricating would solve nothing, Albus walked up to the front door and raised his hand to knock. He was surprised when the door swung open before he could touch it. Clearly, the house was occupied and he was expected. With mounting trepidation, he stepped into the house and heard the door swing shut behind him. Feeling more nervous than he could remember, he slipped his hand into his pocket and gripped his wand firmly.

This was the only reassurance he had from this whole mess. The fact that Potter hadn’t taken his wand when he’d had the opportunity to could only mean the boy was ignorant of the existence of the Deathly Hallows. He’d obviously taken the Cloak of Invisibility as a keepsake of his father’s, or simply for its abilities. No matter, the damn thing had never worked properly for Albus, and without the third, missing Hallow, was of little use.

Striding forward with a confidence he didn’t feel, Dumbledore strained his ears for signs of life. Hearing nothing, he quickly cast a Homenum Revelio Spell, and was interested to note that there was only one other person in the house. Albus had expected Miss Weasley to be also present, but clearly Harry hadn’t wanted her to be included in this conversation. So much the better.

Sensing that Harry must be on the first floor, Dumbledore started to mount the stairs. He was a little surprised when he encountered a decrepit-looking house-elf on the landing, scowling at him.

“Master Harry is in the drawing room,” the elf croaked, and beckoned Albus forward. He followed the elf warily, all the while noting that the house, which was supposed to have been abandoned years ago, was in remarkably good condition.

He was led to an ornate room decorated with lavish tapestries and expensive-looking ornaments. In the centre of the room, reclining on a plush sofa, was Harry Potter. Albus barely registered the twisted little house-elf scurrying out the door.

“Mr Potter, it’s nice to see you in such apparently good health. I was extremely concerned when you chose to leave Hogwarts in that abrupt manner,” Dumbledore said by way of greeting.

“I think you know very well why I left in such haste,” Potter replied calmly. To Dumbledore’s keen eyes the boy appeared relaxed and content. If he’d been taking refuge in this house as it seemed, that was probably to be expected.

“I must say that I was disappointed by your actions, Harry,” Albus replied. “There was really no need to stoop to such measures. The diary was, after all, completely safe and I was just storing it until a suitable method of destroying it became apparent. Clearly, you possess such a method and, if you’d merely shared your knowledge, we could have dealt with the matter without resorting to unpleasantness.”

“Unpleasantness?” Harry repeated in amusement. “Is that what you call it? No, with that bitch Bones in power at the Ministry, my time at Hogwarts was coming to an end. The fact that she was so quick to issue a warrant for my arrest proves my point.”

“Miss Weasley is underage, my boy,” Albus pointed out gently. “Where is the young lady, by the way?”

“Oh, she just popped out for a bit,” Harry smiled mysteriously.

“I’m sure her parents would very much appreciate knowing that she is safe,” Albus said with slight disapproval in his voice.

“They couldn’t give a flying fuck about Ginny, so don’t give me that crap,” Harry spat.

Dumbledore sighed, realising that the Weasley girl would be a sensitive issue with Potter. He decided not to press the point and get straight to the heart of the matter instead.

“What is it that you wanted to discuss, Harry?” he asked. “I’m sure that if I intercede with Amelia that I can…”

“I have no desire to go grovelling on my hands and knees to the Ministry,” Harry interrupted fiercely. “They’ve lost their chance of cooperating with me and will have to pay the price for that later. I assume you’re totally familiar with the prophecy about me and Voldemort?”

Albus blinked at the bombshell that Harry had just dropped on him. Potter knew the prophecy? This was not good.

“Did Professor Snape tell you of its existence before he vanished?” Dumbledore asked, fishing for information.

“No, actually I told him the whole thing, as he’d only heard part of it, after all. I heard the complete prophecy in the Department of Mysteries some years ago,” Harry replied smugly.

“The Department of Mysteries?” Albus stuttered in shock. “But the orb containing that particular prophecy is still sat on a shelf, there!”

“Sorry, that’s a fake,” Harry explained with a smirk. “My guardian and I replaced it ages ago. If you were to open the orb that’s there at the moment, you would get a rendition of a popular German drinking song by a Bavarian Oompah band. Trust me, no sane person would want to hear that!”

Albus stared at the young man, completely speechless.

“Of course, the prophecy itself explained a great many things,” Harry continued. “So, when did you propose to have me sacrifice myself to Voldemort for the good of Wizarding society, then?”

“What are you…” Albus began but stopped. He could see by the look on Potter’s face that lying would be useless. He straightened his back and looked the young man directly in the eye. “I had hoped to allow you a happy and carefree childhood, Harry. I wanted you to have a few good years before the inevitable happened.”

“Inevitable? That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” Harry noted with an edge to his voice.

“Harry, my dear boy, there are things that you don’t know…” Albus began.

“What, you mean like the Horcrux in my scar?” Harry interjected in mock surprise.

Dumbledore nearly fell over he was so stunned. His total confusion only increased when Potter casually reached up to his forehead and wiped it with the back of his hand. The vivid red scar that was previously there smeared and nearly vanished completely.

“But…” he gasped.

“I’ve been free of that disgusting splinter of Voldemort’s soul for a good seven years now. My guardian, who, unlike you, actually knew what he was doing, got rid of it painlessly through an Exorcism Ritual. Tell me, Albus, why didn’t you think to do that?” Harry asked coldly.

“I know of no such ritual,” Dumbledore protested. “Only someone intimately familiar with Soul Magic and Horcruxes would even know where to begin to construct such a thing! How did this guardian of yours gain such knowledge?”

“Oh, you know, when you’re a Dark Lord you pick up a few things, here and there,” Harry replied casually.

“I knew it!” Dumbledore roared, pulling his wand from his pocket and pointing it at Harry. “I knew that you were in league with Voldemort!”

“Oh, not THAT Dark Lord, you silly man,” Harry snorted.

“Then which one?” Albus demanded in angry confusion.

“The one that you were quite prepared to drop to your knees in front of. Of course, that would have only been in the hope of sucking him off, but still. Would you, dear?” Harry smirked.

The last part of Potter’s sentence confused Albus for a second, until he suddenly felt an awful pain in his side. Looking down, he saw a large knife protruding from his body. With a gasp, his legs buckled underneath him.

“Expelliarmus!” he heard Potter cry, and a second later Albus’s precious wand was ripped out of his fingers.

With his hand pressed to his wounded side, he looked up at the young man, who was standing with the Elder wand held triumphantly in his left hand. A moment later, the Weasley girl appeared, seemingly from out of thin air, but through his pain Albus realised that she had just removed the Cloak of Invisibility.

“Why…” he managed to gasp.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Harry replied coldly. “With this wand in my hand, I now possess all three of the Deathly Hallows. I couldn’t have just taken the wand from you in your office, as it might not have recognised me as its master. I had to lure you here, and my darling Ginny took care of the rest. I thought you’d try that ‘Homenum Revelio’ crap, so I had Kreacher fetch her from the nearby park where she’d been waiting as soon as you were in this room. You really are a naïve fool, aren’t you, Albus?”

With blood now running freely down his legs, Albus knew his time was almost done. He stared in horror at the two youths, trying to convey his revulsion at what they’d done through his eyes.

“Consider this payback for being so willing to condemn me to death,” Potter spat, “and for those years of hell you put me through with the Dursleys. ‘A few good years’? What a pile of shit! You just wanted me stashed away safely until you could throw me at Voldemort. But don’t worry, Albus, my old mate, we’ll be seeing you again, shortly. Avada Kedavra!”

The green light hit him, and Albus knew no more.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ha rry stood pensively within the carefully drawn circle located in the basement of their cosy Bristol house. Ginny sat on a chair nearby and offered him an encouraging smile. Taking a deep breath, he opened his parent’s locket and removed the Resurrection Stone.

After turning it in his hand three times, the transparent figure of Albus Dumbledore appeared. The old man blinked at Harry without undue malice.

“Ah, a most skilfully prepared trap, my boy,” he noted in a detached voice. “I was foolish to fall for it.”

“You know that you cannot tell lies to me, spirit?” Harry said forcefully.

“I do, Harry, just ask me what you will and then, I beg you, let me depart from this bitter life. My dreams have turned to ashes and I have failed in every conceivable way. I no longer wish to gaze at my own mistakes,” Dumbledore replied sadly.

“Okay, let’s start with what you know about the Deathly Hallows,” Harry began. “Legend has it that the person who unites all three Hallows will gain great power. I now possess all three objects, but I’ve yet to see any noticeable difference. Tell me, what is the power of the Hallows?”

Dumbledore actually smiled. “Oh, Harry, you have fallen into the same trap that I did,” he chuckled. “Uniting the Hallows does indeed make you Master of Death and, once you take that path into the next life, only then will you reap the benefits.”

“What are you saying?” Harry demanded. “That the Hallows will only give me power once I’m dead?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Albus confirmed. “Death will greet you like an old friend and your reward will be unimaginable. It will, however, be unobtainable until you leave this mortal coil.”

“Shit!” Harry cursed. He’d been counting on using the Deathly Hallows to defeat Voldemort and, if necessary, the Ministry.

“Do not despair, my boy, for you have achieved something no other person has done in history. It may not be of benefit to you now, but you will rejoice in the next life,” the old man said with a touch of smugness in his voice.

“What was your plan for me?” Harry demanded, deciding not to dwell on the issue of the Hallows.

“You guessed much of it already,” Dumbledore admitted. “I knew you were still alive, of course; my monitoring spells told me that you didn’t perish in the fire at the Dursley household and, while I was unable to discover your location, I was able to ascertain that you were healthy and happy. Once you returned, I was trying to arrange a direct confrontation between you and Voldemort. That was why I kept the diary intact, so that it could be used to engineer such a meeting. I had hoped that your death would be the sacrifice required to defeat him. I knew you were a Horcrux from the moment I set eyes on you, and that your death was an unavoidable requirement for victory.”

“Except it wasn’t, was it?” Harry spat angrily.

“No, indeed, it appears not. I have met with Gellert here in this plane of existence already, and he was most vociferous in explaining my failings. In my defence, I knew of no ritual that would have removed that soul splinter from within you, Harry, but I will confess that I never sought out a method, either. I was convinced you had to die and I was a rather stubborn fellow, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore confessed.

“You nearly condemned an innocent child to death,” Ginny growled, unable to restrain herself any longer. “You call yourself a good man, but you’re just as evil as Voldemort!”

“I fear you might be right, my dear child,” he agreed. “Death has a way of making you revaluate your past actions, and I have come up short, it seems. My only defence is that I was doing what I believed was right at the time, and that I am as prone to errors of judgement as the next man.”

“Another question: why didn’t you do anything to clear Sirius’s name?” Harry asked. “You suppressed my parents’ will and did nothing to convince the Ministry that he was innocent. Was that all just so you could maintain control of me?”

“For the most part, yes, but I also wanted to keep my involvement in the matter quiet,” Dumbledore confirmed. “You see, it was I who cast the Fidelius Charm over your parents’ house, so naturally I knew who their Secret-Keeper was. That was bad enough, but should it ever have been discovered that I was fully aware that Pettigrew was a traitor, I would have…”

“Wait!” Harry bellowed. “You knew that Peter Pettigrew was a traitor, but you still made him my parents’ Secret-Keeper? For the love of magic, why?”

“Because events had to unfold as set out in the prophecy,” Dumbledore explained. “Voldemort had to mark either you or the Longbottom boy to make you his equal. Voldemort already had a way into Longbottom Manor, but would have had no means of getting to you should the Fidelius have been cast with Black as the Keeper. So, I implanted a few suggestions in Sirius’s mind, and the wheels of destiny could turn unhindered. I confess, I was surprised that Voldemort chose to attack you first, but I suppose that he felt that a half-blood like himself would be the greater threat in the end. It was a shame; I was rather fond of James and Lily.”

“You bastard,” Harry growled. “YOU BASTARD! You killed my parents as effectively as if you’d cast the Killing Curse, yourself. You murdered them, you evil old shit.”

“I did what was necessary,” the old man replied sadly.

“No, you didn’t,” Harry spat back. “You did what was easy. Never once did you step back and think that the prophecy could be interpreted differently. Hell, if that damn thing was valid, fate would have found a way to put the conditions in place. You just had to stick your beak in, didn’t you?”

“What you say is true, but the conditions may have been met at a far greater cost. For the sake of three lives, I saw the chance to defeat Voldemort once and for all. That had to be worth it, didn’t it?” Dumbledore implored.

“It wasn’t your decision to make!” Harry yelled. “For all you know, nobody might have had to die. You just appointed yourself god, didn’t you?

“I…” Dumbledore began.

“No! I won’t listen to your bullshit anymore,” he roared. “You’ve made a grave error of judgement, Dumbledore, and one I intend to punish appropriately. You said my powers as the Master of Death only really effected the afterlife, well, I’m going to make use of that right now. I curse you, Albus Dumbledore. You will remain in the limbo for eternity, never resting, never moving on. You can rot there, you fucker!”

“Harry, no, please!” Dumbledore begged, his hands outstretched.

“Screw you, arsehole,” Harry growled and let the Resurrection Stone drop from his fingers. Dumbledore’s image instantly vanished.

Harry stood, trembling with anger and grief. A few moments later, he felt a pair of arms slip around him, and he inhaled a familiar scent as Ginny embraced him tightly.

“It’s okay, love,” she whispered softly.

“It’s not, Ginny, it really isn’t,” Harry murmured in a broken voice.

“You avenged your parents,” she said fiercely. “That’s all you could do.”

“Maybe, and that hypocritical old bastard certainly deserved his fate, but the fact remains Dumbledore robbed me of my family, and there’s nothing more important than family, is there?” he replied mournfully.

Ginny just held him tighter. What could she say to refute his words?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny curled her legs up underneath her, and looked sadly at the empty pizza box. Was there still some ice cream left in the freezer, or had she eaten it already? Either way, she was probably too comfortable here on the sofa to get up and check.

She glanced over at Harry, who was seated next to her, absently staring at the television screen. He’d not been himself for the last week, not since he’d learnt of Dumbledore’s malevolent meddling. Hell, they hadn’t had sex since the incident, which was extremely unusual and, to Ginny’s mind, completely unacceptable.

Truthfully, there hadn’t actually been much time for the more pleasurable aspects of life. The information they had collected from Macnair several weeks before was getting stale and they’d been forced to act on it before it became totally out of date. They’d therefore launched a two-person war against all the Death Eaters Macnair had named who were still out in the open. In a series of lightning raids, she and Harry had killed eight of Voldemort’s supporters, and had managed to salvage items or body parts from five of them. This in turn had yielded further intelligence which needed to be acted on. The last week had been a blur, and throughout Harry had acted like a ruthless machine, efficient and unfeeling. Ginny had decided enough was enough.

This night off had been at her insistence. Harry had accepted her argument that they would start getting sloppy if they became too fatigued, but hadn’t seemed terribly happy about the enforced break. He’d silently eaten his share of the pizza she had ordered, and was now sitting through the video she had rented equally quietly. She needed to break him out of his current funk, but knew him well enough that the direct approach would only make him dig his heels in. She decided to start on a more work-related topic.

“So, have you decided what you’re going to do about Lupin and his shape-shifting little tart?” she asked casually.

Harry looked at her in surprise, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there, before his face relaxed. “Nothing,” he said simply.

“Nothing?” she queried, not quite believing she’d heard him correctly.

“Yeah, they’re not worth it. Besides, in some ways they’re as much victims of Dumbledore’s lies as I am. They were stupid and they should have at least given Sirius a chance to explain himself, but I can’t start attacking people just because they’re dumb, can I? I’d have to wipe out the whole of the Ministry otherwise, wouldn’t I?” he replied.

Ginny smiled. This was much more like the old Harry. Secretly, she was delighted that he’d decided not to take revenge on Lupin and Tonks. He’d been becoming a bit too ruthless of late, and she didn’t want him turning Dark. The war they were fighting was a just one, and they didn’t need to resort to becoming as bad as their foes.

“What about Voldemort’s spy in the Ministry, that Bryant woman? Are we going to take her out soon?” Ginny asked.

“I’ve been kind of reluctant to do that,” Harry admitted. “In the eyes of the Ministry she’s still a loyal worker and if they get wind that we’ve killed her, then they’ll think we’re targeting them and take the appropriate steps. At least everyone we’ve taken out at this point has a history of being a Death Eater, even if they received pardons. I’m sure that Madam Bones is aware of that pattern.”

“True,” she replied, again pleased that he was showing restraint. “On the other hand, we can’t just let the woman keep feeding Tom information.”

“No, but I think we might have to make this one look like an accident,” Harry admitted. “We have time to arrange that, though. I’m sure that Bryant isn’t supplying Voldemort anything too important of late. No, I have a much higher priority target that I want to take down.”

“Who?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Bellatrix Lestrange. Aside from being an evil bitch, she’s one of Tom’s most trusted followers. Think how much useful intelligence we got from Macnair; if we can do the same to Lestrange, who knows what we’ll discover. We might even learn where the final Horcrux is,” Harry explained, his eyes almost glowing in anticipation.

“She’s also bloody dangerous and well hidden,” Ginny pointed out. “How are you planning to flush her out?”

“Oh, I have the workings of a plan, but it needs a bit more thought. Once I’ve got it all mapped out I’ll tell you about it,” he said, turning his eyes back to the screen.

Ginny also turned her head back to the television and watched a few more minutes of the film she’d picked out.

“Charlie would enjoy this film,” she noted blandly. “Those dinosaurs look a bit like dragons.”

“I wonder what Steven Spielberg would say if he knew that massive monsters really do exist,” Harry chuckled.

“Harry, I want to visit my family,” Ginny blurted, almost before she realised what she was saying.

Harry looked at her in surprise. “I thought you hated your family,” he replied.

“Well, I do… sort of. But it’s like you said, nothing is more important than family, and I want them to at least know that I’m alright,” she explained sheepishly.

“Can’t you just send them a letter? It would be a lot less risky,” he pointed out.

“I could, but I don’t think they’d believe it was from me or, at least, that I wrote it of my own free will. I just want to pop into the Burrow unexpectedly, say my piece, and then get out. I wouldn’t be there more than a few minutes,” she said hopefully.

“It’s too risky at the moment,” Harry replied firmly. “With everything that’s been going on lately, I’m pretty sure that your family home would be watched.”

“But I could…” she began.

“Please, Ginny, not right now. Wait until things calm down a bit, and then go. Okay?” he insisted.

“Okay,” she sighed. She knew arguing with him when he was this adamant about something was futile.

“Look, I’m not saying don’t speak to them, but just not right now. You were right; I did say nothing was more important than family, but getting yourself captured isn’t going to help anyone, especially me. Right now, you’re my family, Ginny, and it would kill me to lose you,” he told her softly.

Ginny blinked and felt tears start to form in her eyes. It suddenly hit home to her that she was virtually all Harry had left.

“I am your family, Harry, and I always will be,” she said, scooting over and throwing her arms around him, “and you’re my family, too.”

“Not like one of your brothers, I hope,” he joked.

“Ick! The amount of shagging we do, I should bloody hope not!” she exclaimed, before pretending to be sick.

“Would you… I mean… err, would, one day, you want to make things official?” he asked, suddenly seeming extremely nervous.

“What, you mean like in getting married?” she asked in surprise. “Harry Potter, if that was a proposal, it royally sucked!”

“No, no, it wasn’t,” he laughed, “but would you even consider it, one day? Perhaps once we’ve polished off laughing Tom and his followers. I don’t know how you even feel about marriage, let alone me.”

“Well, you do have lots of lovely gold in your vault, and these pizzas don’t grow on trees,” she joked. “I don’t know. I’m only sixteen, so I haven’t really thought about it. I guess I would like to get married one day, and I suppose getting hitched to you wouldn’t be too terrible, not now I’ve managed to get you taking a shower every day.”

“Where did all this crap about personal hygiene come from?” he protested, sniffing his own armpit.

“I’m only teasing,” she giggled, snuggling up to him. “I guess the answer is yes, one day I would like to get married and have a few kids. Now, however, is not the time to be thinking about such things, and if I even suspect you’re going to go down on one knee in front of me, you’ll get a swift kick in the bollocks.”

“Well, that’s a good way to kill the romantic mood,” he snorted.

“Romantic? I’ll have you know that you’ve been neglecting your duties as my boyfriend,” she sniffed. “Do you know when the last time I got laid was?”

“Yeah, it was… bloody hell! I have been neglecting my duties, haven’t I?” Harry exclaimed.

“You have,” she agreed seductively. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

In answer, Harry slipped his hand up under her t-shirt and pulled it straight over her head, before he began to kiss her neck passionately.

“Well, that a good start,” she purred as she felt his hands slide over her back, seeking her bra strap.

“Oh, you better believe it. It’s been far too long since I heard you scream my name,” he whispered into her ear.

Ginny felt a shiver run through her body. The day was definitely looking up…








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