FicWad

For disclaimer, see the first chapter’s notes.

Short recap: though I don’t own the characters I’m just playing with them.

I promise to put them back when I’m finished with them. :)

HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG equals scene break.

With thanks to my proofreaders: Tumshie, mlui




Chapter Eight



The wind howled past the small hut on the mountaintop. Sleet lashed against the stone hut, the thin pane of glass rattled in the frame. The storm had been steadily building through the night. It was fuelled by the changes happening to the boy from England that lay on the rickety bed. The mountain was almost on the other side of the world, and the Potion Nullifying Ward. The small room crackled from the magical energy as the boy’s body was altered into something not quite human. His magical power core was almost crushed from the onslaught of the potion. His stomach had easily processed the Potion and distributed its essence to every cell in his body. In his fevered sleep, his back arched in agony as his internal organs and the potion’s effects changed his bones.



It appeared that his body had matured fully to that of a man in his mid-twenties. His body has developed muscles and the physique of a labourer far different than that of his pampered upbringing would suggest. His bones became denser and harder, his muscles developed immense strength and stamina, his heart enlarged in his chest to pump more blood. His lungs also enlarged to supply his body with greater quantities of the much needed oxygen. A new organ developed just off of his airway; it was about the size of an apple and a thick oily substance was contained within it.



His white pale skin developed a grey tinge to give his skin the appearance of a dirty coal miner, for the skin had a black tint to it. His back was arched in agony as he screamed at the painful transformation, but he never awoke. His toe and fingernails bled black and resembled granite flints. A tattoo appeared on his left shoulder blade as if burnt on. The skin rapidly healed. The tattoo was a large black dragon feasting upon a unicorn foal. A dead yellow dragon lay in the background with blood oozing out of a deep gash just below the neck. The dragon had grey depthless eyes.



Shortly before dawn, the storm died down. The wind stopped howling and the sleet turned to gentle snow, whipped up by the gentle flurries. The English boy was now a fully-grown man in body but not mind. He settled and slipped into a peaceful slumber as his body slowly recovered from the painful changes that took place previously. The rickety door to the small room opened and a pensive figure looked over the sleeping form on the bed. The old man sucked in a breath as he saw the tattoo branded on the boy’s back. It looked like his time on the mortal plane was coming at an end. He shuffled across the stone floor and sagged on to the edge of the bed. He muttered under his breath and touched the back of the boy’s head with the walking stick and the boy’s head briefly glowed orange.



The old man settled his breathing and meditated. After a short while, he was in the boy’s head and spent the next hour going through the boy’s life experiences. The old man learnt that his apprentice was named Draco Malfoy. He chuckled at the boy’s name; his mother must have been a seer. Once he was trained, he would be able to challenge the so-called Dark Lord and take control of his followers. Sensing that Draco would awaken soon, the old man shuffled to prepare breakfast, as he knew that the apprentice would be ravenously hungry.



Draco slowly awoke on his side and stared at the desolate landscape through the frosted glass. Groaning, he rubbed his aching head as yesterday’s events came back to him; he remembered being forced to swallow a strange potion. In a panic, he looked around the room and was dismayed to discover that he was back in the same room as yesterday. He tried to get up but found his clothes restrictively tight and ripped. His clothes were ruined and were so tight that they were hurting him. He grasped his torn shirt and pulled. His eyes widened as the material easily parted. It felt like he was tearing tissue paper. As he sat up, his head swam; he put out a hand to steady himself and gasped when he saw his black stone-like fingernails and his dark tinted skin.



Frantically, he tore his clothes off his body to survey the changes that had happened to him. He sighed in relief that his manhood had not shrunk. Spotting a brown robe, he donned it while pouting that it wasn’t in black. It dawned on him that he didn't feel cold, whereas yesterday he was bitterly cold. He thought, what is going on? Deciding that he could not spend the rest of his life in the room, he cautiously opened the door. He spotted the old man that had drugged him calmly eating at the table.



Draco roared, 'What did you do to me?'



The old man frowned and spoke, but Draco did not understand.



Again, the old man spoke but this time Draco felt knowledge slowly filter through his mind. He asked again and was surprised to find he was speaking something that was not English.



'What did you do to me?'



'I made you strong.'



'What?'



'Eat,' ordered the old man, and he pointed at the wooden bowl on the table. Draco frowned but found that he was ravenously hungry. He reluctantly sat down, picked up the wooden spoon, and slowly began to eat, all the while suspiciously watching the old man eating quietly.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Severus Snape was in agony and had been for the last few hours. He lamented on the fact that he had lost his wand, for if he had it, he might have been able to do something for his broken nose and the horrible sensation of blood and nasal fluid on his lower face. He had a raging headache that broke the concentration needed to successfully Apparate away from danger. His memories slowly returned. He remembered going to the Know-it-all's house and getting an eye full of her mother. She was nowhere near the stunning beauty that Lily Evans was while at Hogwarts. It was an awful shame she had sullied herself with that utter bastard James and had spawned Potter's offspring.



He remembered being shocked seeing the rage in Potter's face as he copped a look at the bookworm's mother. It was only filtering through his head that he realised that Potter had been naked and had struck him with a metal object. He realised he had one more thing to hate the brat for. He would never admit it to anyone under pain of death but the little shite was unfortunately better hung than he was. He remembered wakening after the blow to his nose to a rocking motion, before he passed out again; he never knew why he didn't empty his queasy stomach from the swaying motion of the strange space he was locked into. He was glad when the heavy swaying stopped, and was almost ecstatic when it stopped altogether.



He feigned sleep when the Know-it-all opened up the strange metal and glass door of the chamber he was in. He felt a strange sensation on his face as the Know-it-all explained to someone that she did not want him to drown on his own body fluids. He never saw Minerva's stunner lash out and render him unconscious once more.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Like all intelligent women who can multitask, Hermione Potter-Black was puzzling over the many problems as she navigated the roads to Cashel, County Tipperary. She wondered why her mother was quiet and withdrawn; she had observed her mother pulling away from her father when he had gotten into the back of the car. Also troubling her was the fact that last night she had gotten magically exhausted in the middle of a fight. It was only due to Harry and Remus’ intervention last night that she had not gone on to the next adventure, as Dumbledore would say. Harry was asleep beside her in the car, almost dead to the world; their connection was operating at its minimum only vague feelings were being transmitted. Due to sharing this connection, both had been forced to learn how to multitask as otherwise nothing would ever get done as the feelings coming over the bond could be overwhelming at times. The side effect was that Harry could do a feat that was impossible to most males, do many different things at once, and not get confused. The only times Hermione ever fully let go to the bond was during the wonderful lovemaking sessions with Harry.



Hermione’s mood turned pensive as she realised she had killed again last night. Was she turning into a killer like Riddle, and would it ever end, all this killing? Really? She had discovered the stunned form of Severus Snape lying on the floor of the boot of the car while she looked for Crookshanks. Harry before falling asleep had shared his memories of last night. Hermione decided to wait for them both to be awake and clear headed before tackling the Snape issue. But she decided to temporarily fix the broken nose and clean off his face because she did not want him to drown on his congealing blood or die from blood loss from the broken nose. Minerva had realised that the Potions Professor was feigning sleep and took some pleasure from stunning him again.



Hermione learnt from rifling through the brown cloth bag that all the house’s contents were within the bag, bar the contents of the study where she fought the Vampire. She was dismayed that both Hedwig and Crookshanks were just packed into the bag in the rush last night. She had realised that Minerva was awake and both had decided to get out and stretch. Harry had informed them all that Frank had gone to make a phone call. While he was gone, Hermione let out Crookshanks and Hedwig out of the brown bag. Harry’s familiar looked balefully at her from his cage and went back to sleep. Crookshanks was vocal at his handling and it took much petting and cuddling to appease the disgruntled half-Kneazle. During the time her father was away making arrangements, she had contacted Hugh to deal with the situation at the bank. When her father returned, he informed the people in the car about his adventure while away from the car. Hermione, then, decided that he was too tired to drive, so had elected to take over those duties as it would appear that her mother was in a daze from last night.



Hermione was pleased that all the charm work done to the five-year-old BMW M5 Touring was holding up. The petrol tank was charmed to hold about two thousand litres of fuel and to weigh the same as the normal sixty or so litres of the original tank. The couple had worked for about two months on the car so that it would appear from the outside to be a normal high performance vehicle. But underneath, they had magically improved almost all of the components. In a normal car, it was electronically limited to a top speed of one hundred and fifty-five miles per hour because that was what some of the parts were rated to. The normal car with it's limiter turned off could hit two hundred miles per hour but the wear and tear on components meant that they would not last as long, some as little as five thousand miles before needing to be replaced. Jim had shared the fate that many high performance cars suffered depreciation. Although new, a BMW M5 was worth about sixty-six thousand pounds; Jim had managed to source a donor car for about half that as it was just out of warranty and that was at the higher prices of 2008 due to inflation a similar car was now a good bit cheaper. After all the work was done, a friend of Jim’s tested the car because he was a weekend racing driver. He gave the car a clean bill of health and said that with all the modifications, it handled better than the M5 saloon. Harry was delighted with that result as he enjoyed driving it around the racetrack. All this meant that since the car was started, the fuel gauge needle hardly moved even though the five-litre engine was very thirsty and drank petrol like Mundungus Fletcher drank Firewhisky.



She sighed with relief when she saw the sign welcoming her into to Cashel, Co. Tipperary and it asking her to visit the famous Rock of Cashel. She slowly drove through town looking out for a phone box. She spotted one and then turned into a car park looking for somewhere to park the car. Once the car had stopped, she turned to the back, woke up her father, and pointed out the phone box so that he could phone his friend Paddy Boyle. Frank nodded and yawned as he stretched, he then got up and walked over to the phone box. Hermione turned and looked at the now awake Harry.



'Hello, gorgeous,' greeted Harry tiredly.



'Where are we?' he asked as he looked around at the sea of parked cars and the buildings on the edge of the car park.



'Cashel, Daddy is making a call with his friend Paddy.'



'Okay. How are you?'



'I’m fine, Harry.'



'You don’t look fine. What’s the matter?'



'Not now, Harry, maybe later, okay?' said Hermione as she pushed her thoughts and feelings of her love for him through the bond.



Harry leaned in and kissed Hermione as he tried to comfort her. Harry’s hand came up and cradled her head as the other reached out to hug her around her middle—his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. Hermione's mouth parted as she enthusiastically reciprocated the kiss. Hermione cursed the fact they were in the front of the car and the transmission tunnel and centre console was getting in the way, she wanted full access to her husband because she needed to feel the love physically and forget about last night's horrors. After kissing for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few minutes, the couple reluctantly broke the kiss and settled on discussing their situation through their shared bond. Hermione discovered that Harry had not realised yet that he had killed again but knew that when he did, he would feel terrible. So, she started to help him come to grips with last night and the fact that they would have to kill again before this fight was over. Minerva smiled at the display of love between the couple as she sat in the back seat and closed her eyes to doze she had decided that they were not at their final destination just yet.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Frank awoke with a start and looked around. He looked up as Hermione explained that they were in a car park in Cashel and that he was to phone his friend Paddy Boyle. She pointed out the grey phone box across the busy street. He yawned and slowly got out of the car, once outside he stretched and rubbed his numb arse from sitting down for almost nine hours. He mulled over what he was going to say to Paddy as he crossed the road to the phone box. It took a few minutes, as the town was quite busy. Once safely across, he had to wait for the woman who was using the phone to finish. After what seemed like a long conversation to her lover, the young woman got off the phone and rushed past, blushing. Maybe she just realised that he had heard the last few minutes of her phone sex with her lover. Frank closed the door to the phone box and picked up the warm handset, and dialled Paddy's number. After it was answered, he again fed money into the phone.



'Hello, Paddy?' asked Frank.



'Who's asking?' replied a brassed-off woman's voice.



'Sorry, this is Frank Granger looking for Paddy Boyle, is he there?'



'Oh, you want to speak to that bastard! Are you one of his bookies?'



'Em'm, no ma'am, I used to go to school with him and he told me to phone this number.'



'How did you go to school with him you lying bastard, you sound English?'



'Look sorry but can I speak to Paddy, if not can you give me a different number to contact him on?' asked an annoyed Frank.



There came the sound of a muffled conversation from the handset.



'Sorry about that, Frank, but that was the wife, she is a bit upset with me,' came Paddy's voice.



'I hesitate to ask, but she sounds angry, what did you do?' asked a curious Frank.



'Oh, nothing much—just lost about twenty gee's in a horse race, no biggy,' replied an amused Paddy.



'What do you do that, the loss of twenty thousand pounds is nothing?' asked Frank.



'After you sorted me out, thanks by the way, I came home and took over the Father's Stud. Me horses are worth about three mill' so what is a couple of grand here or there. Mary is just pissed because she found out about the gambling when I am going through a low patch right now. Sure, I'll bounce back in a while no worries,' replied Paddy.



'I didn’t know your father ran a horse stud,' replied Frank as he learnt something new about his old school friend. Well ex-friend after getting him on the straight and narrow.



'Yeah, me Da’ was a wealthy bastard and wanted me to follow in his footsteps—that’s why he shipped me off to that fucking boarding school in England. He said it was a family tradition; all the Boyle men went to that damn place for at least the last six generations. The only good thing about the fucking place was the fact you helped me out, I never told you how much I appreciated what you did. I would have been dead as a doornail only for your help. Thanks a million. Sorry that our friendship was strained at the end of it,' offered Paddy.



Frank frowned as little things he knew about Patrick Boyle started to settle into place. He knew when going to school with him that Paddy hated his father and was probably acting out by getting high and stoned out of his mind. He remembered reading an article in The Times about a successful horse breeder from Co. Tipperary named Patrick Boyle, but he never related the articles to his old schoolmate as their was no photo of Boyle at all. The photo with the article was one of his winning horse, Champion Jockey that won last years' Grand National at Aintree. It was beginning to make sense; according to the article, Patrick Boyle was a very wealthy man but shied from the papers. Frank wondered what the adult Boyle would look like.



Frank was pulled from his thoughts as Paddy asked him a question on the phone.



'Frank, you still there?'



'Sorry, Paddy, long night.'



'Okay, I’ll be in town in about twenty minutes, I know where you are as there is only one working phone box in the whole town. A shower of shites wreaked the others last week and the Telecom Eireann lads won't get off their arse to fix them till some one kicks up a fuss about the broken phone boxes. I’ll use one of the work jeeps—it’s a red Isuzu Trooper with Boyle Horse Racing on the side. Look out for me and maybe get a coffee to keep yourself awake, eh?' explained Paddy.



'Red Jeep with your name on the side, okay?' confirmed Frank.



'Yeah, see yea shortly.'



'Yeah, bye,' said Frank as he hung up and went back to the strange black car.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



The Boyle Stud was on a large tract of land about forty hectares in size. The main compound consisted of an old eighteenth century manor built by plantation settlers from England. The two stable blocks were built around sixty years later. A modern concrete and steel barn completed the rear courtyard to the main house. The locals called the place, ‘Boylemore.’ Boylemore had three more feature houses. One was known as the Garden House. It was built to a similar high standard as the main house but at a much smaller scale. The gardens were working gardens producing fruit and vegetables up until the mid-sixties. The second house was smaller than the garden house and was known as the gamekeeper’s house. It was believed to be haunted after a hunting accident killed the young couple that lived there. It was believed that gunpowder was kept beside the chimney breast to keep the powder dry in the damp old house. The explosion killed the couple and their young two-year-old daughter. The house was rebuilt and the workmen swore the heard the cries of a baby during construction. Over the next fifty years, the longest anyone lived there was six months before they left the house scared witless. The third house was known as the gatekeeper’s house and was converted to be the Stud's reception. Behind the gatekeeper’s house was another courtyard surrounded by stables for the horse riding school.



As well as breeding the best racing horses in the world, the Boyle Stud was known for its show jumping school. Mary Boyle was a champion show jumper when she met the recovering addict Patrick Boyle. He had just taken over the family business after returning from obscurity in England. As Patrick learnt the ropes of running his late father's business, the pair developed an easy relationship. Their son Brendan resulted and six months later they married in Italy. It was only after the marriage that Mary learnt of her husband's gambling habits. Mary groused about it but was relieved to see that Patrick was staying off drugs and drink very seriously. She had learnt after a health scare with Brendan that Patrick in the past was a serious drug user and was only clean because of an English man named Frank Granger. Patrick, in tears, promised to faithfully deliver clean urine samples every week without fail. He had managed to turn the Stud from a joke to a world-beater in fifteen short years. When Frank had rung earlier, Mary had received news that they were forced to put down one of her girls. She was an old horse called Beauty. On top of that, Patrick had admitted that he had lost twenty thousand pounds on a horse on top of the sixteen from last month. Needless to say, poor Frank had gotten the brunt of her ire.



The couple discussed the situation and Mary decided to put up the Granger family into the Gamekeeper House, as Mary understood it was only for a few weeks. Patrick went and grabbed the keys of the filthy red Izusu Trooper. The jeep had black bull bars with a pair of powerful headlights bolted on. The spare wheel was missing from the tailgate. Patrick turned the key in the ignition and after five attempted starts the diesel engine roared into life. Patrick mulled over the situation as he drove into Cashel, the famous Rock of Cashel visible in the windshield.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Paddy pulled into the car park across from the working phone box and looked out for Frank Granger. He was not surprised that Frank looked older than the last time he had saw the man twenty years ago. He looked shattered, as if a light breeze would blow him over. Frank was sitting on the bonnet of a sleek looking black estate car. Paddy wondered where Frank got such a flashy looking car from, as he had never seen that type of motor before. Frank slowly approached the red jeep. Paddy was a tall lanky man with short, greying hair and a high receding hairline. His eyes were a dull blue; he wore a neatly trimmed goatee and rectangular designer spectacles. He wore builder’s boots, a stained pair of denim jeans, and a brown leather jacket with a cloth patch with the Stud's Crest in the centre.



'Hello, Frank, you don't look the best, bad night?' greeted Paddy from inside the jeep.



Frank raised an eyebrow but said hello.



'That your car?' Paddy asked as he pointed to the black car Frank was leaning against.



'No, it belongs to my daughter,' responded Frank.



'Oh, okay,' replied Paddy.



'Do you mind staying in a haunted house?' enquired Paddy.



Frank smiled and then said, 'No, why?'



'We have a place and everyone who has ever stayed there has said it is haunted. Sorry, but is all I've got at such short notice,' responded Paddy.



'Oh, okay, Thanks for giving us a roof over our heads.'



'No problem, follow me and I will guide you to the house.' With that, Paddy turned the jeep and waited for Frank to follow in the black car.



Frank got into the back of the car beside a quiet Jane and told Hermione what was going on. Hermione started the car and pulled out after the red jeep. Getting out of town behind the jeep was difficult as cars and trucks kept getting between them as they filtered into the flow of traffic. Hermione, with Harry's help kept track of the dirty jeep as they made their way out of Cashel. They drove past the tourist spot known as the Rock of Cashel. After a twenty minutes drive, they arrived at the house. Paddy gave Frank a tour of the house. On the ground floor, there was a kitchen, downstairs shower and toilet, sitting room and dinning room. Upstairs were four bedrooms and one bathroom. The design of the house was before en-suite bathrooms were popular. And it was rebuilt almost the exact same as the original. After showing Frank around, Paddy told him he could stay as long as he liked because if it weren’t for Frank's help all those years ago, Paddy would most likely be dead. Frank thanked Paddy and watched him drive off as Harry dealt with poor Remus, still in his wolf form.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Harry made sure that the red Isuzu Trooper had disappeared down the road from view. The red jeep threw up a cloud dust in its wake from the gravel road of the estate. Happy that Paddy was gone and that there were no unwanted eyes on the house, Harry opened the rear door of the black car. With a gesture, the blue cocoon that contained Remus in his wolf from floated out of the rear of the car and gently settled on the gravel driveway. Harry petted the wolf’s head gently in attempt to waken the sleeping Lycan. The head moved and the wolf snorted as it looked around at the strange surroundings and the new scents. The wolf inhaled deeply and sighed in relief at the familiar scents of Harry and Hermione. With a growl, the wolf sat up and moved like a predator towards the rear of the car, as he smelled the unmistakeable scent of the Potion’s Master. With a sigh, Harry barked 'Stop' at Remus in his wolf form. The wolf stopped and turned to regard Harry.



'Please change back so that we can talk,' asked Harry in a much gentler tone of voice.



The wolf looked confused and whined at Harry. Sighing, Harry knelt down at Remus’ head and whispered into the ear of the surprisingly docile werewolf. Harry explained how he mastered the change and his belief that Remus could master the wolf the same way. The wolf nodded its head and Harry stepped away. The wolf slowly morphed from a wolf to the form of a man. A tired looking Remus used one hand to cover his blushes and struck out the other silently asking for something to cover his modesty. Harry silently offered the blue blanket that made up his cocoon. Remus looked down at his ankle in shock, it was almost fully healed from last night’s action. The area affected had a slight discolouration from a fading bruise. A faint scar was visible from where the bullet had cut the skin. Minerva appeared at the rear of the car and offered a heavy dark grey bathrobe to Remus. Remus took it gratefully and donned it. Remus stood up on shaky feet and stumbled towards the house. Minerva stepped in and offered an arm; Harry watched the pair enter the house and turned to the unconscious Potions Master.



The stunned form of Severus Snape was all that was left in the boot of the black estate car. His freshly healed nose was bent at an awkward angle; it was as if his hook nosed was flattened up to his face. It gave his face a slightly comical appearance. Harry spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. Hermione was escorting a quiet Jane into the house, as a worried Frank hovered behind. Harry sent a mental message asking Hermione to prepare a magical room so that they could question Snape. Hermione nodded and entered the house. Harry stretched and yawned; it had been a hectic couple of hours. He did not know what was happening to his magic since his return from the other reality.



Ever since his return, he found that he tired easily from using magic. When he shared his findings with Hermione, she agreed that she noticed the same thing but she found that it was getting better. She thought that after a few training sessions to increase stamina, they would be back to their levels from before the draining jump back home. She figured that if they could find the time to resume their training schedule they would be back to their normal fitness levels within a few weeks. As Harry mulled over his thoughts, he absent-mindedly picked up Snape in a firefighter’s carry over his shoulder and walked to the turf shed beside the house.



The house used a solid fuel cooker with a back boiler for the central heating system. The solid fuel used was a combination of wooden blocks from chopped down trees on the land and sods of turf stored in the turf shed at the side of the house. As it was the middle of July, the turf shed was almost empty. Harry found Hermione waving her original wand in a complex pattern with the Potter Book of Magic open floating beside her as if it were on an invisible pedestal. A dull grey magical construct stood before her in a corner of the shed. The construct was about seven feet deep seven feet high and seven feet wide; it was an unremarkable grey cube. Harry passed through the wall of the cube with Snape still on his shoulder.



Inside the cube, all the surfaces were the same dull grey. In one corner stood a combined toilet and wash hand basin—the kind you would find in a prison. A simple grey slab a foot tall by two foot wide by the width of the room was used for the sleeping surface. A simple one-inch thick mat served as the mattress. There was no doors or windows; a charm recycled the stale air with fresh air and another charm provided a featureless grey light that seemed to come from all the surfaces of the room. All in all, it was a very good secure cell.



Harry laid Snape on the mattress and began the strip search of the Potions Master. Harry found a spare wand strapped to his right calf and a potions knife in his outer robes. Harry found a bag of money and a small notebook in Snape's trouser pockets. The heel of the left boot contained a Portkey rendered useless by the magical construct. When Harry was finished, Snape was left in only his slightly grey Y-fronts. Harry deposited his effects into the bag Hermione had left inside the cell. Harry draped the conjured grey robe on Snape’s unconscious body. Harry passed through the wall and told Hermione he was finished for now and handed over the bag containing Snape's belongings. Hermione stowed the bag of belongings into a black case that was affixed to the wall of the cube about hip height.



Hermione informed Harry that she wanted to get clean, as she felt dirty after Minerva used a charm last night before dressing her. Harry responded that he needed to get his bearings before questioning Snape and agreed that getting washed sounded like a good idea.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Hermione had helped her mother in to the kitchen and made her a cup of tea before going out and preparing the cube cell for Snape’s stay. Frank had tried to kiss his wife after the troubling night but she moved away from him. Dejectedly, Frank sat down beside the tired Lycan. Remus sat in the kitchen chair marvelling over the fact that he had mastered the wolf and could change forms at will just like an Animagus. He decided to do just that after his revelation. Frank almost jumped at the sound of the wolf’s bark of glee and turned to look at the wolf sitting on the kitchen chair. Remus leapt up off of the chair in joy at having mastered the transformation after changing back from the wolf in the kitchen. He ran around the table in jubilation, and thrust his arms above his head and waved. In his distracted state, he forgot the fact that he was completely nude. He bumped into the shocked Minerva who had just come from unpacking due to the unexpected noise from the kitchen. Harry and Hermione arrived and burst out laughing at the red faced Remus who stood in the centre of the kitchen his arms spread out wide. Minerva just whispered 'impressive' and returned to her unpacking. Frank sat stunned at Remus’ antics, the problem with Jane momentarily forgotten. Jane sat staring into her mug of tea oblivious to the antics occurring around her.



Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and ran upstairs with an eager Harry following her to the bathroom. The bathroom was decorated in a blue colour scheme. The floor was a chessboard pattern of blue and white. The walls were tiled; the lower portion was in blue with the upper portion in white. An old fashioned bathtub stood on clawed feet. A large showerhead stood over the drain of the bath. Hermione waved her wand and the room was suddenly clean, as it seemed to be a couple of months before someone had used it last.



'Ah, that’s better,' said Hermione.



She cast a charm at the showerhead and water started to pour from it. Hermione pulled off her large jumper as Harry sat on the toilet seat and watched Hermione slowly strip. Hermione swayed to the music that was in her head as she performed a striptease for Harry. Next, she slowly pealed off her unfaltering tracksuit bottoms that Minerva had dressed her in. Harry reached for her, but she smiled and backed away. She smiled at him from behind her shoulder as she turned her back and bent over to slowly remove her knickers. As her delectable arse was revealed, Harry felt a stirring in his loins. She did a trick that all women seemed to manage to know, opened the clasp across her back, and removed her bra. She swayed her hips as she slowly turned around and sauntered over to Harry sitting on the toilet seat.



The room was steaming up from the hot water cascading out of the showerhead. Hermione sat down facing Harry on his lap and leaned in a nibbled on his lower lip. Meanwhile, Harry's hands caressed her back and massaged her lovely bum. Harry's mouth opened as Hermione deepened the kiss. Hermione's left hand was cradling his head while her right hand worked the fly of Harry's pants. Harry moaned as his raging cock sprang free from confinement. Hermione's delicate hand slowly massaged his penis. His legs opened on their own accord. Hermione shuffled forward and rubbed her nether lips along the head of his shaft. One of Harry's hands drifted to Hermione's breast and caressed the heaving mound. The kiss broke and Harry's eyes widened as he realised what Hermione was going to do next.



Harry hissed in bliss as she slowly sank on to his aching cock. He leaned forward and captured her neglected nipple into his mouth as he suckled on her magnificent body. His other hand drifted south as Hermione held on to Harry's shoulders. His hand reached the junction between their bodies and reached her sensitive bundle of nerves. With a few caresses, she reached her peak and moaned through her orgasm. With a sigh of frustration, Harry magicked his clothes into a pile beside Hermione's clothes. With a grunt, Harry stood up and waddled towards the bath and the running shower.



Hermione produced a small toiletry bag from her clothes pile as they passed the pile of clothes. She hung the shower gel on the wall-mounted tap. She handed over the shower gel as she wrapped her arms around Harry in a bone-crushing hug. With a grunt, he came and slipped out. Harry liberally applied the liquid gel to his hands and worked up a lather. Meanwhile, Hermione stood under the spray that automatically adjusted to a temperature she was comfortable with. Harry started washing her hair and made sure to keep the soapy suds out of her eyes.



Hermione enjoyed Harry’s tender care as he washed all over her body. It had been a long night and a tiring drive through the Irish countryside. Hermione moaned as Harry caressed her right breast. Her mouth parted to his probing tongue. The kiss seemed to last for ever, she pouted when he reluctantly broke away for she wanted more. His hands grasped her left foot and stood it on the wall of the bath. His soapy hands caressed her shin then slowly moved up to her inner thigh. Hermione tensed in anticipation. Her body tingled as she felt his magic slowly lift her body clear of the ground. His hands washed up her other leg, but stopped short of where Hermione wanted him to end up.



A hot mouth descended on to her swollen breast. A hot tongue teased her hardened teat, before his teeth grazed the sensitive nipple. All the while, his hands caressed her lower back and bum. Hermione moaned low in her throat. The mouth kissed across the valley of her breasts. He kissed slowly around the outer breast trailing a path that got ever closer to her swollen nipple. A sudden pinch on her swollen clit sparked a sudden orgasm. As she rode it out, the hungry mouth travelled down her body to kiss away the sudden shock. Hermione marvelled at her husband’s magical skill that was keeping her aloft as he lapped at her core. Harry kissed and suckled all around the sensitive bundle in apology for the unexpected pinch that sent her over the edge. After she seemed to have come down, Harry thrust an engorged tongue and Hermione’s eyes widened, it was different than his fingers or penis.



After another mind-blowing orgasm, Hermione grasped Harry’s head and urged him up for another searing kiss. As she plundered his mouth, she grabbed his penis and guided him home. She sighed into the kiss as he slid home. The showerhead shut off on it’s own accord. The couple slowly sank into the filled hot tub. Harry maintained a slow leisurely pace lying on top. A charmed piece of parchment floated up from under the door. Hermione grasped it out of the air. After another orgasm passed and she regained her faculties as she read the note. It was from Minerva asking to use the bathroom and informing the couple of which was their room. Groaning, Harry slid out of Hermione and started to dry himself. Hermione giggled at the disgruntled expression on his face and the fact that they were interrupted.



After ten minutes, the door to the steam filled bathroom opened to reveal a bemused Minerva McGonagall. The couple breezed passed the smiling older woman towards their bedroom. Hermione waved her wand and their new room was sparklingly clean. Hermione then dropped her wand, turned to Harry, and opened the cloth belt of his bathrobe. As they kissed, Hermione grasped his still hard erection and gently stroked. Hermione guided Harry back to the bed. Harry sat the robe pooling around his hips. Hermione slowly kissed down his chest. Harry reached out to stop her. At her questioning glance, he grasped the front of her bathrobe and separated the front to reveal her heaving chest. Hermione stepped back and dropped the robe to the floor. As Hermione lavished attention on his member, Harry decided he would worry about Snape tomorrow. It was the last coherent thought he had that evening.



After he came and Hermione swallowed, Harry asked if they should get food or sleep. Hermione’s answer was to direct him to lie down on the bed. Hermione lay down beside him and he spooned in behind her. She guided him into her and sighed in peace as he slipped in to her welcoming heat. He kissed her neck as he settled into contended slumber. Hermione's eyes drifted closed a smile gracing her face as she followed him into shared dreams.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



The heavy summers rain pounded down on the umbrella. The woman hunched her shoulders under the flimsy protection from the elements offered by the nylon canopy. It was a sudden thunderous downpour in July, in London. Selma Cuaron smiled as she watched the woman in front of her struggle with her umbrella against the unseasonable rainfall. She came from a desert tribe. Originally, she enjoyed being out in the rain, as it was a sign of nature providing the earth with life. She made her way through the thinning crowds towards the phone booth that lead to the British Ministry. The footpaths were awash with different sized umbrellas, which made speedy navigation difficult. Once she reached the phone booth, she keyed in the number her Ministry had given her. The handset asked her to state her business at the Ministry and was given a badge.



She was not impressed as the phone booth made its journey deep underground. She stepped off the magical lift when it reached the atrium. She noticed that security was much improved from her last visit five years ago as an undercover witch on an international manhunt for a wizard that was offering his services to Muggles as a famed hit man, the Jackal. She thought then that with such a lack of security, it would be a haven for someone like the Jackal, but a colleague from the States had managed to capture the menace.



A security wizard dressed in dark brown robes met her. She showed her Mexican Auror identification card and her wand. Even with this security pass the wizard put her through a rigorous screening where she had to reveal her bare forearms. He still wasn't happy and asked a female colleague to conduct a strip search. She eventually made it through security into the Ministry proper. The atmosphere was sombre and quiet. Witches and wizards were looking everywhere and where very vigilant. Selma noted that the British Ministry went from almost no security to a nation with almost draconian security measures. She went over to the magical lifts and asked a wizard guard to direct her to the Minister for Magic's office. He looked at her suspiciously, so she had to show him her credentials. After a debate about why a Mexican Auror wanted to talk to the Minister for Magic, he eventually led her to his secretary's office.



Rufus Scrimgeour was leaving his office for the day. He was about to ask Ruth Redfoot, his secretary, if there was any parchments he needed to sign before leaving for a get together for retired Aurors. When he came to his secretary desk, his secretary was Ruth arguing with a small woman with a cane. The woman appeared to have Hispanic features and short brown hair.



'Ah, just the man I wanted to see. Chief Auror Selma Cuaron, Medalla de Magica, primera clase. I represent a small group of overseers on behalf of the United Nations of Magic, which your government is a member. Can we talk in private?'



'What does the U.N.M. want? I thought the I.C.W. handled all international affairs, especially with our colonies?' asked Scrimgeour in confusion because he didn't know why the U.N.M. would stick their noses into Britain's affairs.



'The I.C.W. is about two hundred years behind the times and are no longer relevant. It is one of the reasons that the U.N.M. was set up, which your Ministry is a member. I am here with my team because your government is failing at keeping the existence of magic a secret from the Muggles in your country,' came the scathing reply as they moved into the Minister's office. The secretary, Ruth, wondered what was going on.



'But that doesn't give you the right to come here and tell me what to do,' the Minister said in anger.



'Yes, it does. Did you know that the Muggles in the British regular government launched an attack against a wizard's house? The Americans brought it before the U.N.M. Security Council. They discovered that an element of the British Muggle government hacked into the United States Air Force computer network, stole a brand new top secret spy satellite, and used it's very advanced radar and camera capabilities to scan the whole of the British Isles. The Air Force pulled the plug before the download was complete. From the information they had gathered, they then launched an attack against wizards. From information gathered so far, it looks like the victims may be the terrorists your government is fighting now. My team and I have been deployed here to assess the damage and to make sure that the Muggles are kept in the dark of our world. The American Magical government have better procedures in place to keep hidden. They foresee that in the near future there will be nowhere to hide from the Muggles.'



'What, you're saying that Muggles found and attacked wizards on their own without wizards helping them? I don't believe it!' said an incredulous Minister of Magic.



'The Muggles, as you have called them are very clever and have already sent men to the moon. They have photographed the world from space. It is only because the American Ministry of Magic is so integrated into the American government and could classify the knowledge as Top Secret otherwise it could be a lot worse. The Second World War was fought over a vast theatre of war. Dumbledore's lovers spat with Grindelwald only covered a small part of the European conflict. The European fight was ended before the war proper was over. The Americans ended the war in the Pacific by using two of the most devastating bombs ever used. They called them Hydrogen Bombs, also known colloquially as Nuclear Bombs. The Japanese magical community was almost wiped out. They only survived because a small remote enclave was well hidden. Their magical school the equivalent of Hogwarts was erased from existence completely by the blast,' retorted the Mexican Auror.



'What, how did they manage to do that?'



'As I understand it through science and engineering. Tell your people we are to have full access to files and personnel. By the way, is it true that you are going ahead with the stupid idea of opening Hogwarts a full month early?'



'What do you mean it's stupid?'



'The British Isles is under a Potion Nullifying Ward. What good is opening a place of learning when you haven't solved the problem of failing grades in just the one subject? What I would do is get your students to somewhere that is known there is no interference and test them again before opening Hogwarts at all.'



'What do you mean there is a Potion Nullifying Ward over Britain?' asked the shocked Minister.



'How else do you explain all your potions failing and the need to hire wizards and witches to do work that would normally be done by potions?'



'How do know it only affects Britain?'



'The French and the Dutch Ministries approached the U.N.M. about the effects of failing potions in Northern France and coastal areas of Holland nearest to England. Experts were deployed and it was determined that the British Isles are affected. It is just one of many reasons my team and I are here to assess the situation.'



'Since you seem to believe you know what to do, tell me what to do about Hogwarts and our failing students.'



'Negotiate with an ally so that your students can re-sit their exams and rule out the wards effects. I would suggest the States or Spain being the furthest ally away from the ward and still within commuting distance via Portkey.'



'Oh, I'll give it some consideration. Does this mean your going to stick your nose into everything?'



'Yes, good day Minister, I have to get back to my team and inform them that the British Ministry will offer full cooperation.'



'Good day.'



The irritating woman then left. As she left, she deposited the warrant from the U.N.M., which gave the team the power to audit the British magical government. Rufus cradled his head in his hands and cursed his luck that he would inherit the post of Minister of Magic when the damn internationals would stick their noses in while he tried to manage the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named crisis. Sighing, he drafted a note to Umbridge to the effect that there was to be a delay in opening Hogwarts and to cooperate fully with the International team from the U.N.M. At this moment in time, he envied Fudge getting out before it all came crashing down around him.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Healer John Green sighed as he completed his rounds at St. Mungo's. He was asked to come over and treat patients that would normally be healed with a simple potion. It did not look good for his current case. His patient Percy Weasley was being kept alive by a wizard life support machine—one of the ten he had brought with him from the States. The patent had been struck by a nasty purple curse. It would appear to be the work of a serial killer. He knew of one witch who had survived an encounter with the curse. She did not get away lightly for she was rendered barren.



She had made an appointment to see him about another case of a young schoolgirl that was struck on her chest from the same vile purple curse. The woman was now high up in Law Enforcement and was trying to track down the schoolgirl, so that he could treat her injuries, as Madam Bones was worried about the girl suffering a similar fate to hers. Treatment for Percy Weasley was very slow going and he would miss his father’s funeral tomorrow, and he highly doubted that Percy Weasley would ever wake again because he had slipped into a magical coma. Resources in the hospital were tight and management were pressuring him to take Percy off life support so that some noble rich Pureblood could survive, as the Weasleys were apparently very poor.



Healer Green was coming to the conclusion that it was a mistake coming over to try help out, as the red tape he had to cut through was absurd. Life and death decisions were being made based on the fact that people were pureblood, half-blood, or Muggle-born. He was shocked to learn that if it became known that his parents were Muggles, then he would be shunned as a ‘Mudblood’. He made an adjustment to the life support machine and checked the readings for Percy’s magical core. He nodded when he observed a small improvement. He laid his hand in comfort on Percy’s brother’s shoulder as he left the room; Charlie he believed he was called.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Harry slowly awoke to an empty bed. He looked around for his wife but found that the room was empty. He sent out a mental probe. Hermione responded that she was in the bathroom and informed him that it was eleven in the morning. He smiled as their lovemaking session around four that morning came back to him. He sphered right into the bathroom, Hermione smiled up at him as she lay in the bath. Harry joined her. After ten minutes, there was a knock on the door. Frank informed them that breakfast was ready.



After getting dressed, the couple went down to breakfast. Jane sat sullenly at the table cradling a cold mug of coffee. At Hermione's questioning glance, Frank shook his head and explained in a whisper that Jane had not slept at all last night. He had only managed a few hours himself. He had gotten up early and went shopping for groceries in Cashel. Harry asked Minerva what her plans were for the rest of the summer.



'Well, I don't have to be back at Hogwarts until August the nineteenth. The professors usually return to the school about two weeks before the start of term. I have thought about what you have said and I think you both need some one on the faculty in your corner. So far, Albus has not contacted me yet. He would usually send Fawkes if it was relevant to the Order. Meetings during the summer about school are rare.'



'So are you with us?'



'Yes, Harry, Hermione, I am.' She nodded to each in turn.



'Thank you,' said Hermione as she hugged the surprised Scots-woman.



'Minerva?'



'Yes, Hermione?'



'Here is the Potter Book of Magic. While we were in the other place, we discovered that a part of Hogwarts herself attached to Harry in the Chamber of Secrets. That fragment or whatever it is called created this book. Could you look through it please to see if there is a cure for Vampire Thrall.'



'Okay, but why?'



'Look at mum; I think she is suffering from more than just shock. That was a Vampire leading the attack. I think she gave him an invitation. The only way I know that could happen is if he put her under some sort of thrall and I killed him before I should have. I should have forced him to release her from his influence. I didn't notice it yesterday. It only hit me today after what dad had said.'



'I don't mean to ask but what will you be doing while I look through the book.'



'Helping Harry question Snape.'



'You seem confident that the book will have the answers.'



'No, not confident, but the book is tied into Hogwarts and her library for the last thousand years. We have learnt an awful lot from it.'



'Okay, good luck with Snape, I think you will find that getting information is like trying to get blood from a stone, where that man is concerned.'



Minerva watched the couple leave the kitchen before she sat down with the marvellous book.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Severus Snape slowly awoke to a dull ache in his nose. He blinked and looked around the room. It was a featureless grey box. He sat up with a start when he realised his was only wearing his underpants. He started to panic when he realised the room had no door or window. He thought he would run out of fresh air. It was only after a couple of minutes that he realised that there was some sort of charm recycling the air. He shivered, as the room seemed cold. The walls seemed to give off a faint grey light. He spotted a dark grey garment. He pulled it on and grimaced at the itchy material. The garment was a simple winter robe. He spotted a glass of water and a simple meal on the floor by where his head lay on the platform. The meal consisted of rubbery scrambled eggs and cold rashers; the glass of water was tepid and slightly salty in taste. Snape tried to Apparate out of the cell and was dismayed that he couldn’t manage that simple task. The last thing he remembered was an angry Harry Potter.



Snape had checked the four walls for any sign of a hidden door or window and had determined that there was no way out. He had a difficult time searching the surfaces of the cell because they seemed to be very solid and unnaturally mirror smooth. Snape sat trying to meditate to calm his nerves. His stomach was queasy; he thought that maybe the eggs were off. He was scared out of his wits by the low growl of a dark, honey brown lioness. The front of the big cat appeared to come through the wall opposite him. Snape wondered where he was and hoped that the large cat was docile, as he had no way to defend himself. The big feline stalked forward and laid her paws on his trembling knees. Dark brown eyes stared into his own. Snape found he could not look away. Snape found his thoughts drifting back to his last two years at Hogwarts and how he came to join the Death Eaters.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



Friday, October 14, 1976



Severus was finished his classes for the day. The meal in the great hall was finished and Severus was on his way down to the Slytherin common room. Avery and Mulciber appeared out of a disused classroom and flanked him.



'Get over the Mudblood, Snape, it is for your own good. All she is worth is a good shag,' greeted Avery.



'Yeah, you got that right, she does have a fine arse. I don't know how Potter managed to thaw the ice queen of Gryffindor,' agreed Mulciber.



'Enough,' hissed Severus.



'Come on, meeting tonight,' said Avery as he guided Severus towards a side door out of the castle towards the direction of the Forbidden Forest.



'Big night, tonight, Snape. We meet the Dark Lord.'



'Quiet, the walls have ears! You don't want Dumbledore to find out,' hissed Severus.



The three of them silently stole out of the castle into the dark cloudy night. They bumped into another group of Slytherins at the edge of the forest. The larger group followed a tall man who wore a black robe that seemed to suck the light out of their surroundings and a bone white mask, deep into the forest.



The clearing was lit by candlelight from magically suspended candles hanging over the clearing. A ward was laid down on the perimeter. From the outside, it appeared like the rest of the forest, unremarkable. But inside it was much different. One area was laid out like a wizard pub with a long black bar. Two bar taps stood at one end that dispensed Butterbeer and mead. Behind the bar stood a display of different kinds of drink that was not readily available in the castle even with the Carrows smuggling in the odd bottle of Firewhisky. Severus' eyes widened when he saw twelve of the most beautiful women he ever had seen standing up on a platform in the centre of the clearing. They appeared to be dressed in just their underwear. The underwear was almost sheer as Severus could see the women's nipples and groins through the flimsy material.



A hush fell among the crowd of young men as a lone figure got up on the stage. He wore fine black robes and stood tall. The hood of the robe covered his head. An eerie red glow emanated from the hood. As the man spoke it came out in a slick oily voice. The voice spoke of all the wonderful and powerful things he could deliver if the men joined him. Snape found himself captivated by the promise of power.



Snape remembered that night very well as he watched the massive party in the dark forest from the periphery for he was stopped from participating as he hadn't received the Dark Mark yet. He looked on in envy at the mass orgy with the beautiful witches of the purest blood. Snape would later learn the terrible price of joining the Death Eaters. Every man at the gathering swore an oath to serve the Dark Lord Voldemort. It would not be for another fortnight that Snape would pay with blood for the Death Eater mark on his arm.



Saturday night at 11:45 on October 31st 1976



Snape, along with the other junior Death Eaters, stood behind the Hogshead waiting for the Portkey to the initiation ceremony. The Portkey would activate on the stroke of midnight. Severus was alive with anticipation of the initiation ceremony. He felt the pull on his navel of the Portkey and found himself alone in a dark bedroom. The walls were clad in dark wood panelling. A large wrought iron king sized bed stood in the centre of the room. Dark satin drapes were tied to the posts by silk sashes. Severus could see a young woman's bare back, her red hair falling to almost her bare bum. Severus felt stirrings in his groin as he realised the woman was nude. He wondered why he was not at the initiation ceremony.



'Hello, Sevie, lets have some fun,' said the woman.



In Severus' lust addled brain he never noticed that the woman's accent was just plain wrong. He decided that it didn't matter that the Portkey never brought him to the initiation into the Dark Lord's followers, for before him lay the woman of his dreams. He closed the distance in an instance and lunged for a kiss. The woman moaned in pleasure. Delicate hands made quick work of his robes. He gasped as slender hands stroked his stiffening member. His eyes closed in bliss. The woman murmured words of encouragement. The next hour was the best of young Severus' life.



He lay cuddled beside his best friend after having made up from their disagreement over Potter. The couple were propped up on some pillows half sitting half lying down, the satin sheets lying across their hips. He wanted more and gently pushed her over on to her back so that he could make love to her again. He cradled her breast in his hand and marvelled that he could feel her heart beat. She screamed in shock. Severus could feel her heart constrict and stop beating. In a panic, he felt around Lily's body wondering what had killed her. He groaned in dismay as he found his potions knife protruding from her back. He had remembered putting it under his pillow. It must have moved as they had tried many different positions. He starred into her blue eyes with green flecks as she looked at him in shock. His arm flared in agony as a tattoo of a black snake seemed to be burnt on his arm. He recoiled in shock as Lily Evans' body slowly morphed into one of the stunning beauties at the party just over two weeks ago; she had dirty blond hair. Severus' stomach heaved as he realised that he had abused Lily's image and killed a girl his age, and he didn't even know her name, even though she appeared to know him. He vaguely remembered a drunken conversation with the girl about his failure to snare Lily's heart. He was broken from his thoughts when two men entered and applauded Severus for a job well done.



Severus looked around in shock and realised that along with the two men clapping, there were four more who all had watched him over the last hour. In a rage, he flew at his wand on the bedside table and hurled the killing curse. A flash of green struck one man who fell dead. As the body struck the polished stone floor the jovial atmosphere among the observers dissolved. Snape threw the bloody knife that was still grasped in his hand. It stuck another wizard; the hilt of the knife was protruding from the wizard's left eye socket. One of the observers managed to get a spell off that caused the corpse on the bed to explode showering the room in blood and gore. The wizard to his left vomited at the smell of charred flesh. Severus took his chance and cast a spell he had developed and severed the wizard’s head as he emptied his stomach.



There were now three wizards left. One of the wizards dodged a spell but slipped on the liquid mixture of gore and vomit. He fell against the ornate four-poster bed, which was decorated with ornamental snakeheads made of polished silver. The snake's head was very sharp and protruded out from the bed. The fallen wizard impaled himself on the snakehead just below his ribcage. As the wizard fell over, the snakehead held firm resulting in his chest to be ripped open; the sound of broken bone was heard as his ribcage exploded outwards. He dropped his wand and frantically tried to hold in his organs as they oozed out of his body, and then the organs flopped onto the floor. He could only watch as Snape killed the other two men as his life giving blood slipped through his fingers.



One of the two wizards left standing turned to flee out the door. Severus' exploding entrails spell connected with his back. The wizard doubled over in agony as his back broke from the force of his organs exploding through his back. The last wizard froze in shock and looked around him wildly. Severus walked over unnervingly calm and knocked the wand out of his limp grip. The wand clattered to the floor. Severus moved behind the catatonic wizard and kicked him in the back of his knee. The wizard fell to his knees, and he would have ended up flat on his face except that Severus had a grip of his head. With a sharp motion, he twisted the wizard’s head, and the loud crack of his neck breaking was heard in the room as if they were in a tomb.



Severus stood and tried to comprehend what had happened. He thought that Lily had seen the light and confessed her love for him, and it had been wonderful—the best night of his miserable life. Then, he discovered that those sick fucks had orchestrated the whole thing for their amusement. Making fun of the half-blood’s love life. His legs gave out as the most intense pain he ever felt seemed to emanate from his arm. His mind operated on automatic and with a crack he left behind his dream with Lily as he realised that he had made love to a stranger, and that Lily Evans would most likely fall for James fucking Potter, the utter BASTARD.



A shaking Severus Snape appeared before the Dark Lord Voldemort utterly naked and blood stained as he shivered in the cold room.



'Well done, Severus. Welcome to my cause. Serve me well and you will be given power beyond your imagination. And next time I summon you, put some clothes on. See Malfoy about the robes you will be expected to wear in my presence. I hope you enjoyed one of my concubines that I laid on for you.'



Snape swayed on the spot as he processed what the Dark Lord had said. An unspeakable anger welled up in him at the ruse that was used to snare him. With a gesture and a murmur from the Dark Lord, Severus was laid on the floor writhing in agony.



‘Your thoughts are easily read, my young servant. You just needed a little push. Yes, the Mudblood slut is pretty and intelligent, but we don’t sully ourselves with such filth. I will teach you how to be the best. I need the services of some one with your excellent skill in the art of Potion brewing. Let this be a lesson of what to expect when you displease me. Malfoy.’



A figure appeared in full Death Eater regalia and looked disdainfully at the writhing form of Severus Snape. The figure brandished his wand and Severus slowly levitated to hang about four feet off the ground.



‘Help our newest member. He is to be looked after, as he is now our Potions Master. Understood?’



‘Yes. My Lord.’ With a bow, Malfoy left and floated Snape in front of him.



Saturday evening at 9:45 on October 1st 1981



Snape’s mind was whirling; he had found an obscure book on Occlumency in Malfoy’s library the week after he had joined the Dark Lord's service. He never forgot the humiliation inflicted by Voldemort five years ago. He had resigned himself to loving Lily Evans from afar. Even though she had married James fucking Potter, she would always be an Evans to him. He had puzzled out the prophecy he had over heard, it meant that there was a good chance Lily would die as she had survived an encounter with Voldemort three times as indicated in the prophecy. He thought that Voldemort would attack Lily soon, maybe by the end of the month. He would have to go to Albus Dumbledore and beg for leniency; his main mission in life was to see that she survived and if that meant Potter and his spawn died so much the better.



He had already asked for her to be spared in the attack on the Potter residence. He was now of the opinion that Voldemort would not keep his word to him, that she would be spared in the new regime he would install after he defeated this prophecy. He now regretted ever accepting the assignment of spying at Hogwarts for Voldemort. He now found himself standing before the stairs to the Headmaster’s office contemplating his fate and the fate of Lily Evans, for she was not a Potter in his eyes. How he wished her surname were Snape instead of Potter.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



The sound of the roar of a lioness broke Snape's drift down memory lane. Snape frantically tried to crawl back from the enraged lioness on hands and feet, but it was useless—the large paws on his knees pinned him in place. Hot breath blasted his face as the lioness’ roar reverberated in the small room. Snape came out of his stupor and tried to hold back the lioness’ head with his hands. One large forearm raised and came down in a swift strike against Snape’s forehead. Snape saw stars as he released the animal’s head. The last thing he saw was the paw coming in from the side before it connected with the side of his head.



The lioness flowed into the form of a disgusted female that promptly vomited, barely missing the unconscious wizard. A fluffy bathrobe came through the wall with an arm attached. Harry followed and gently wrapped Hermione in the robe as she dry heaved. Harry looked decidedly green after he had witnessed Snape defiling the memory of his late mother. He guided Hermione back out of the room, so that she could recover. In their state, they forgot all about the pool of vomit on the floor of Snape’s cell.



After a passage of time, Snape groaned and slowly rose. His damaged nose still worked and he promptly vomited after the smell of vomit evoked a reaction from his body. He looked around wildly at the small cell and sighed in relief that the large feral cat was gone. He thought that he must have gotten sick after the cat had left and blacked out because he had no memory of getting sick in the first place. Just as he got his stomach settled, a tray appeared to come through the wall near the floor. The smell of the dinner turned his unsettled stomach and with a groan, he lay down on the backbreaking mat and tried to ignore the food.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



The former Knockturn Alley layout was ignored in the reconstruction efforts as the architects of the reconstruction project ignored the old street layouts of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys. The new designs were based on American Magical Plazas of shops and restaurants. The black economy just relocated to a select number of old haunted and derelict buildings in the Greater London area. Arthur Appleton knew of one such building as he acquired potions supplies there. He had eventually mastered the Intelligence Potion, which had the happy side effect of improving his skills in the art of potion making. He made his way to the black market hoping to sell some of his potions to fund his research. The black market was in the vaulted basement of an old block of terraced houses. The space was magically enlarged. It was a hive of activity far under the radar of the Auror's operating in the former Diagon Alley.



Arthur set up his stall of the various potions he had brewed. It would appear that no one was interested as everyone thought that potions no longer worked at all. A fight erupted in a tent that doubled as the local boozer. One wizard had a gash from a cutting spell and had lost a lot of blood. Sensing a business opportunity, Arthur rushed forward and grabbed a Blood-Replenishing Potion. He cast a spell to stop the bleeding. The other combatant was long gone after making off with a sack of gold Galleons. Arthur uncorked a bottle of the Blood-Replenishing Potion and forced it down the wizard’s throat.



'Merlin, fuck me, that's vile,' hissed the injured wizard.



Arthur didn't give the man a chance and forced a vile of pepper up potion down his throat. The man's eyes widened and watered.



'Fuck, that is the worst pepper up potion I've ever tasted, you bastard,' he choked.



'You're only alive because I helped and that will be five Galleons, seven Sickles, and two Knuts,' demanded Appleton



'Why you little shite, who the fuck do you think you are charging me after doping me up on your foul concoctions?' the man argued.



'You're alive, you ungrateful bastard, aren't you?' responded Appleton.



The man got up in a huff and stalked away muttering under his breath as a man with a snake tattoo watched the heated exchange with interest. Maybe his search for a potions master for the Dark Lord was over.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



'That utter bastard! How could he defile my mother’s memory for all those years? Tell me why Hermione? He thinks he loves her and yet he treated me like shit simply because I look like my father, and he's supposed to be an adult. Ha, what a crock of shit. The BASTARD has the gall to leer at your mother in her own home. What does Dumbledore see in the bastard that he allows the stupid fucking bully teach children? Well . . . oh, I don't know what to do with the stupid fucker… Sorry, Hermione, I know you hate cursing but I don't know anymore. How could anybody be so cruel?'



'I don't know, Harry, I just don't know,' consoled Hermione as she pulled Harry towards her as he ranted against all that Snape had done to him or his family including his new family members; Hermione, Jane, and Frank.



After a while, Harry settled and the couple started to discuss what questions they were going to ask the Potions Master. They thought he could be double agent for whom they were not sure, Riddle or Dumbledore. Minerva arrived late in the evening and ignored the fact that it would appear that Hermione was dressed in just a bathrobe. She wondered what had happened as it would appear that the couple looked disturbed.



'Hermione, I have gone through the book and found a solution to the thrall problem. However, I think you won't like it. A man has to go in and treat the affected areas in Jane's damaged mind.'



'Why a man?' asked Hermione as she cradled Harry into an embrace.



'Because the original attacker was male. The person that fixes it also has to be male because of the way a male mind thinks.'



'What's the catch? There is always a catch,' stated Harry quietly.



'The person who fixes the damage will then know the victims mind intimately.'



'Oh. I cant do that, I love Hermione too much to invade Jane's mind,' said Harry with dismay.



'Well, we'll think of something,' offered Minerva.



'Thanks, Minerva,' said Hermione quietly.



'What's wrong?' probed Minerva.



Hermione turned to look at Harry. At Harry's nod, Hermione turned to look at Minerva. Remus arrived at the door sensing that his friend’s son was felling depressed.



'I don't know whether I should show you or not.'



'Show us what?' questioned Remus as he moved into the room.



'Earlier today, I convinced Harry to let me question Snape. We learnt that it is possible to do magic in our animal forms. I thought that it would be easier to skim Snape's mind if he was distracted or scared.'



'What!' exclaimed Minerva.



'We have Snape in a magical cell I’d created from a description in the book I’d loaned you. John had taught us the best way of questioning suspects. We,' Hermione pointing to Harry and herself as she spoke. 'Harry and I, decided to adapt that training in relation to Snape as Harry felt that he would never tell us the truth. I decided that Harry would be clouded by his tutelage under Snape this past year, and would more than likely take out his frustration on him. I asked him to promise me to stay out while I read his mind.'



Remus snorted and whispered, 'Whipped'.



Hermione ignored the jibe and waved her hand. A three dimensional image appeared of the inside of a grey box. Minerva and Remus silently watched as a lioness appeared to pass through the wall of the box directly across from Snape. Remus smiled at the terror filled face of Snape as he appeared to be mesmerised by the lionesses stare. The image flickered and started to play back moments of Snape's life.



Remus gasped as he watched Snape make love to a woman that looked like Lily. He was disgusted with himself as he watched that dead woman was revealed to be actually an impostor. He felt bile rise in his throat as he watched Snape decimate the perverting bastards that watched Snape and the woman that resembled Lily. He turned to look at Minerva and saw that she looked a little green and had her lips pressed into a thin line.



'I had enough of his memories at that stage and left his mind,' said a decidedly green Hermione.



'I don't blame you,' a grim faced Remus replied. 'I'll be right back.'



'No, don't, Remus! You will kill him! Besides, the only persons who can get through the walls are Hermione and me. I want more information before deciding what to do with the fucker.'



Minerva ignored the curse word as it mirrored her own thoughts on the man; however, Harry apologised to herself and Hermione.



'Let him stew in the cell for now, I am more interested in helping Jane,' ordered Harry.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



A wreath adorned with black ribbons hung on the front door of the Burrow. A sombre atmosphere prevailed even with the normally boisterous Weasley clan paying their respects. An open casket with Arthur Weasley laying in repose was in the sitting room. The coffin lay on a table with a black tablecloth that reached for the floor concealing the legs in the magically enlarged room. Molly sat at a chair directly across from Arthur's head, a black handkerchief in her hand. All the children were there apart from Percy, who was in hospital, and Charlie who was sitting with him. Molly's sobs were heard over the low din of the people's whispered conversations.



Luna Lovegood breezed in from the kitchen dressed in a simple black summer dress with a black silk scarf across her shoulders. A sombre Xenophilius Lovegood followed his daughter. He moved to Arthur's coffin and whispered in a hushed tone towards the corpse. He consoled Arthur's children one at a time, except for the absent Percy and Charlie, and left quietly. Molly didn’t notice that he never came near her at all, but one of her sons did. Ron scowled as he watched Xenophilius Lovegood leave the kitchen without consoling his distraught mother. He decided to give him a piece of his mind and stalked after him. Luna turned from watching proceedings and decided to follow her father and Ron. Ginny was making sure that there was food and drink available for all the mourners. Albus Dumbledore was conspicuous by his absence among the members of the Order of the Phoenix.



Ron's mind was pulling in a lot of directions. Why did the old man Lovegood ignore his mother, the bollocks? Why did his dad have to die? Why did Hermione and Harry ignore his letters that he couldn't send as he didn't know the address. He spotted Lovegood heading in the direction of his house and went to follow. He missed the gnome under foot and tripped, he hit his head hard. Groaning, he stood up and that lingering presence from the battle at the Ministry sighed; he had control again.



A malicious smiled graced Ron's face. He frowned when he couldn't Apparate away from the ramshackle house. He headed into the forest never noticing that a girl was following him. After walking to almost the edge of the wards, the presence felt his grip on the boy slipping. With a hiss of frustration, he felt the boy reclaim control.



Ron stopped suddenly and looked around at his surroundings. He noticed that he was in the woods behind the Burrow. He was beginning to get worried that this thing with gaps in his memory was happening more often. His stomach grumbled as he rushed back to the Burrow. In his haste, he never noticed the girl with blonde hair hiding behind an old oak tree.



Luna Lovegood stood in the Weasley's sitting room wondering why daddy did not commiserate with Mrs Weasley. She caught from the corner of her eye an angry looking Ron follow her father as he went home. She was worried that poor Ron was infested by a colony of Aquavirius Maggots. He seemed to behaving oddly due to the infestation. She decided against approaching him at this time, she was content to just watch. She decided to hide behind a wonderful old oak tree while Ron went back to the house once more seeming to be himself.



Luna slowly followed the path back to the Burrow and the mourning party. She noticed a silver glint on the forest floor. She bent over to get a closer look. It appeared to be the corner of a silver box. She knocked some of the dirt and dead leaves off of the object and revealed a photograph in a silver frame. She dropped it in shock as she saw a photograph of her mother when she attended Hogwarts. Her mother had pink hair, it must have been dyed, she decided. A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she looked at the now sad face of her mother. It was only now that she realised that there was a young man in the picture with her mum. She gasped in surprise when she realised it was a young Arthur Weasley. She picked up the picture and went to put it into her pocket.



'Please, there is a book over in that direction by the beech tree,' squeaked her mum from the photo in her hand.



Luna almost dropped the frame in shock but didn't. Luna looked around, spotted the beech tree, and headed in that direction scanning the ground for this book.



'It's my notebook of ideas and other . . . stuff,' said Arthur.



As Luna searched, she came across a rectangular object with a leathery feel to it. As she picked it up, she noticed it to be a small book.



'That's it!' came the man's voice in the picture frame.



Luna put the book in to her pocket and headed for home.



When she reached her home, she headed up the circular stairs to place the small photograph on her bedside locker. There was a flash of light and she whirled in the direction of the flash with her wand pointing at where the flash originated. Her wand was glowing from a spell ready to be cast. A rolled up scroll sat innocently on her study table. She slowly approached the table and cast a detection charm on the scroll of parchment. After being teased and pranked in the Ravenclaw dorms, she had become cautious and so took no chances. Tentatively, she reached out and picked up the scroll. She wondered when she saw the Lovegood Crest on the blue wax seal. Stealing herself she broke the seal and began to read:



My dearest Luna,



As I write this letter, you are nine years old playing out in the garden. If you are reading this letter, it means I died trying to regain a skill I lost to an evil woman who stole my first love. Your wonderful father was unfortunately not the man who stole my heart. In my youth, it was a man named Arthur Weasley. We were very much in love. He helped me to come to terms with my special gift. It is a very rare gift that allowed me to take on any form, which I later learned was called, Metamorphmagus. The vile evil woman spiked the drinks at a party during our fifth year in Hogwarts. The spiked drink that Arthur consumed contained a love potion that was keyed to the vile woman. Arthur began to see less and less of me and we drifted apart. I learnt that the potion I drank had killed any romantic love I had for Arthur and had the side effect of destroying my special talent. I knew from an early age that I was different. As I grew up, I started to look different than your grandparents. I learnt that this was because of my developing talent.



I cried for months when I learnt a part of me was destroyed from that vile drink. When I finished school, I travelled for a while searching for what I had lost. On my travels, I met your father; he was looking for a Crumple-Horned Snorkack and in due time we fell in love. I rarely saw Arthur during those years but knew that he had married that vile woman and had children. I felt compelled to tell your father about my past. Merlin, bless that man; he used his contacts to find any information on Metamorphmagus and if there was a slim chance to regain what I had lost.



One day, I was shopping in Diagon Alley when I bumped into a girl that had the same gift I had lost. I learnt that her name was Nymphadora Tonks. I was puzzled at the fact that she resembled me in my youth. I learnt that all Metamorphmagi have similar traits in our base form. Just as you inherited your hair colouring from your father and your eyes from me. Metamorphmagi inherent a common appearance in our base forms. I traced my roots back several generations and learnt that I am related to the Blacks. I found a book with a ritual that may restore my long lost talent.



I will try the ritual tonight. Know this, my wonderful daughter, I love you and your father dearly. Without him, I would have never gotten over the loss of my first love. Arthur Weasley is a very good man. I met him two weeks ago and learnt that even when he discovered the deception he stayed because he loved his children deeply. Be careful around Arthur's house for I fear what that woman could do to you, my daughter. I fear that due to the potions effects I have not passed on my talent and for that I am sorry. I am hopeful that the ritual will work, if not, know that I will look in on you from time to time. I will always be with you.



Love,

Evanna Lovegood



'Mummy,' whispered Luna as she gently lowered the letter from her mother.



She now knew why her mother died that day. It also explained why her daddy ignored Mrs Weasley. She let go of the letter, climbed into bed, curled up into a ball, and cried herself to sleep.





Xenophilius quietly climbed the stairs when he felt the faint caress of his wife's magic. He wondered why he felt the magic after all these years later. He saw that his daughter was crying in bed. He went and sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't know what to do so sat quietly and watched her slip into sleep.



HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHG



A/N Please review.

Chapter revised to correct minor errors.

Thanks to all my reviewers.

I will be loading corrected versions of the old chapters.