FicWad

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, ideas, and situations created by JK Rowling and owned by her and her publishers. I own the original elements & characters. No money is being made by me, and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended.



Chapter V

There are many large and impressive rooms in Malfoy Manor. This was not one of them. No room in the Manor could be called cosy, but this study was at least comfortable and intimate.

Lucius Malfoy sat before the unlit fireplace, staring into an untasted glass of brandy. Something, or worse, some things, were going horribly wrong, and he was not sure what they were.

The Minister was not taking his firecalls, or even seeing him, despite being reportedly in a panic over a meeting just a few days before. All of his best sources of information, and those of his allies, were drying up fast -- something had put a scare into the Ministry, and Lucius had no idea what had happened. Several members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors also seemed to be growing some backbone. Worst of all, his three top agents in North America had been killed over the last week. When he inquired, their Department of Justice had merely said, "Justice has been served."

Lucius frowned. It must somehow go back to Potter. The boy had been abused by Muggles, and that should have provided Lucius and his Pureblood allies with some chance to win points. Somehow, it had all been handled before they could emit so much as a peep.

The only thing that seemed to have gone right lately was getting rid of that stupid Muggle day diary his Master had left in his care. It had been pressing on his mind for years, and finally, without really knowing why, he had managed to slip it into Arthur Weasley's daughter's books that morning in Diagon Alley.

All it had cost him was a black eye and bruised ego. Who would have thought a desk jockey like Weasley could still pack such apunch?

He hoped he had done the right thing.

Lucius sipped a bit of brandy, while Dobby silently watched. The elf had met with his hero, Harry Potter. The Great Harry Potter had actually thanked him! He wondered if he could ever get free of this master. . . .

Dobby quickly stopped that train of thought before he had to punish himself.

*

The pompous witch, nervous as she was, managed to pull together her arrogance. "We cannot support any interference with magical cultures outside of our borders. The Muggles may interfere with other Muggles, but we stick to our own. You will do whatever you want to do, and we cannot stop you. Just don't expect any aid."With that, the Vice Premier of the North American Confederation of Magic withdrew with what little dignity she had left.

The three Druids who together made up the Tuatha, the leaders of the Druid cults, looked at each other and shrugged. "Hardly unexpected," one said.

"And irrelevant," another agreed. "The question is, do we really want to get involved?"

"We do," answered the first.

"You think this boy is the one of the prophecy," the second one demanded, "the one who reunites the so-called 'Hallows' and creates the climate where we can start returning the faithful to our homelands?"

"The faith, not the faithful," the third one stated, startling the other two. He was old, wise, and powerful in nearly every sense, by anyone's standards. "We now know Potter holds one, while of course Dumbledore holds another. That blasphemous would-be immortal does not know, at least not for certain, but the Resurrection Stone was stolen by Salazar Slytherin, and passed on to one of his bastards. That line ended with Riddle. His grandfather held the stone, set by Slytherin into a ring. Riddle knows of the ring, but since he did not use its powers, does not know exactly what it is."

The powerful wizard held the younger two in his gaze. "I believe we must be there. The Brotherhood is opening up a number of wedges. Tutmoses, and Osiris, wish to get at least some of their Brotherhood into the current era, reversing recent trends. Potter must be an engaging youth to interest so many of those blase ancients. In doing so, they are opening up wedges at Hogwarts, for themselves and their damned vampires, and offer us an opening as well."

"They would use us," the second Druid said scornfully.

"I do not like what Osiris stands for, but he, unlike some of his Brotherhood, has always treated us with respect," the third Druid reminded his colleague. "Will they use us? In a sense. Are they willing for us to use them, and Hogwarts, and perhaps even Potter to an extent? Yes. If both sides respect limits, it would be to all of our advantage."

"We were once rivals in many senses, but we do not have to be enemies," the first druid reminded the second one. "They no longer preach their blasphemy. I don't even know if they all believe much of it any more. They are willing to help us preach our beliefs in the Homelands in return for our helping Potter if needs be."

The second Druid thought about all this, and then glared and stated. "If we do this, we should all be agreed."

The other two reluctantly nodded.

The second Druid smiled. "Good. Then I agree. It is time to return the Faith home."

*

Jason watched Harry, just returned from what was hopefully his last set of training visits, step confidently into the sea and toss the net three times further than he had during his first sojourn here."Is his preliminary training over?" Jason asked Tutmoses softly.

"It is," the Egyptian responded. "The young man has responded splendidly. No matter what the task, he managed to achieve it, and asked for more. Some things he achieved with ease -- he should be both a Charms and a dueling master in the future -- others took him more time. Still, he surpassed nearly any goal we might have had for him when he started."

"What were his most difficult areas?" Jason asked. "IS there something he didn't succeed at?"

"Well, he did not achieve two animagus forms, but that is very rare. He could have, but taking the snake form would have precluded his keeping the Parseltongue in his normal shape now that he is disconnected from the Horcrux."

"How odd."

"Yes, well, neither the snake form nor the Parseltongue were his native magic, so we are thankful he even had the option. Cobra advised keeping the Parseltongue, and he does not give advice lightly. Harry kept much of the other power, of course. Oh, he may not have been a full Metamorphmagus. Still, while he cannot change the shape of his body at all, he can do enough to change his face a bit and his hair, if needs be. It will just take him a few minutes."

"I am glad the brothers in Nepal were able to adjust his eyes."

"Yes, that will give him an advantage, as he will continue to wear his glasses for a while."

"Are the camps set up in the forest?" Jason asked after a few moments of silence.

"They are. The Druids are established at the spring in the mountains, which is the headwater of the main stream feeding the loch."

"Isn't that at the opposite side of the valley from Hogwarts?"

Tutmoses nodded. "True. However, the vampires are established to the south, while we will be to the west. The Druids have spoken to the merpeople in the loch. They will watch the north, while the Druids watch the east." He shrugged. "Remember, they do not overly care for us, but have agreed to work with us. They hope to get atoehold into Hogwarts, and bring their faith back to Britain. Overall, I think things are well covered."

"Do I have a contact in London, when we go there tomorrow?"

"Not really," Tutmoses admitted. "We have had so little contact with Britain since Myrddin's time, we really have no one there."

"Will any of the Druids help us in London?"

Tutmoses shook his head. "No. They only have marginal ties with the few remaining Welsh clans, and only a bit more with the Highland clans. They cursed the site of London over nineteen hundred years ago, and will not approach it."

"Perhaps we should just go to the goblins and then go to Hogsmeade," Jason suggested.

"Won't his friend be waiting?"

"That's right," Jason admitted. "She was supposed to go and meet up with that boy who never wrote back and his family, but decided to wait for Harry. He should tell me tonight where we'll meet them."

"Are you nervous about moving through Muggle London?" Tutmoses asked. "You, one of the most feared magical warriors of the bronze-age Mediterranean, who now calls himself after his grandfather, the legendary Argonaut?"

"When was the last time you were in a modern Muggle city?" Jason asked. "Not a village or small town, but a large city."

"I was in Cairo in . . . 1902."

"Go there now, for an hour. Then you can tease me."

"Very well. Anything else before I go off and face the dangers of the modern world?" he teased.

"Any word on Sirius Black?"

"No, other than most of the charges have been dropped. That's still being kept quiet. He has been moved to the secure ward at St. Mungo's."

"Well, then, off with you," Jason smirked. "I'll have some strong wine waiting for you."

*

Tutmoses was back in less than fifty minutes, looking very shocked.

"Master Mo?" Harry asked, looking up for the small fire where he was grilling fish.

"Think nothing of it, Harry," Jason said jovially. "He just got ataste of the late twentieth century."

Mo shuddered. "I have seen automobiles, of course, but never have I seen such a . . . a . . . I have no words for what I saw." He took the goblet of wine offered and only then stripped off to join Harry and Jason in the buff, warming himself in the sun.

"Hermione said we could appear at her parents' house," Harry said, ignoring the interruption. "Her mother has the day off and will drive us."

Jason gave Harry a wan smile. "Well, I supposed I had to ride in one of those contraptions sooner or later."

"And I will go speak with Dumbledore," Tutmoses said.

*

Albus Dumbledore walked into his office after breakfast and saw he had a visitor. "You know, you could announce yourself," he complained.

"I could," Tutmoses agreed. "Is there anything we can do to help you with Sirius Black?"

"Not unless you can prove he didn't accidentally send that hex into the gas line," Dumbledore admitted. "Do you know the Marauders'secret?"

"We have managed to access the reports, so yes, we know about their being animagi."

"If Pettigrew is still alive, he must be found," Dumbledore pointed out.

"We agree."

Dumbledore frowned, and asked, "And did you manage to break the Horcrux without harming Harry?"

"We did. He no longer has any direct connection to Voldemort."

"Now answer me this. Did breaking the Horcrux break the Prophecy?"

Tutmoses sat back and thought. "Interesting question. We have not yet finished deciphering the copy of the Prophecy we made. Would you care to tell us the full Prophecy?" Tutmoses quoted most of the Prophecy, although the phrases were out of order. Taking the phrases from the copy of the prophecy sphere they had obtained was not easy.

Dumbledore sighed, and gave him the full text.

"If the 'power' Voldemort doesn't know about came from Voldemort himself, it is possible it is broken. However, the Mark has not been totally destroyed. It is still a Horcrux, but no longer connected to Harry. We wanted to wait, in part until we had the Prophecy before totally destroying it."

"Then why disconnect it from Harry?"

"Because we promised him we would." Tutmoses smiled grimly, "You believe that the power Harry has is connected directly with the scar. We believe it was the power which drew us in." He shrugged."We have a great amount of experience with prophecies. There are usually any number of ways of fulfilling them. We will destroy the Horcrux on Harry tonight. Once all the Horcruxes are destroyed, Harry or nearly anyone could destroy Riddle, at least in theory. But we shall help him as needed."

"How will you find them?"

"How would you?" Tutmoses retorted. "We at least now know what they are. There were echoes in the sixth one.* The first was some sort of small booklet, like a Muggle appointment diary. The second was Ravenclaw's diadem or tiara. The third was a ring used by the Gaunt family. That one we have recovered and broken." He did not mention that they had given it to Harry, giving him two of the three Deathy Hallows. "The fourth was a locket held by the Gaunt family. The fifth and final one was the Cup of Hufflepuff. The goblins helped us track that down. We have broken the Horcrux and they restored it to the vault it was held in, for a consideration, of course."

"So, three down?"

"Three down, three to go." Tutmoses glared at Dumbledore. "Has your pet spy been reigned in?"

"I believe so."

"For his sake, and perhaps yours, let us hope so." Tutmoses faded away.

"I wish I knew how they do that," Dumbledore grumbled. He had one more trip to make before school started, and he was now running late.

*

*Since canon holds that Nagini was only made into a Horcrux in Albania after Voldemort killed Bertha Jorkins, there are only six Horcuxes.

*

"HAAAARRRYYYYY!" Hermione flung herself on Harry and hugged him. To her shock, Harry hugged her back.

Hermione stepped back and looked at him. She had been nearly an inch taller, in part because of her ten months age advantage. Harry was now an inch taller than she was (and now nearly two months older instead of ten months younger, although of course Hermione did not know that), and fully muscled. The other version of Harry had really only entered adolescence just before leaving his Third year. This Harry was already there.

"Did Ron ever get in touch with you?" Hermione asked, still holding Harry's arm.

"No," Harry answered, not caring all that much. His experiences that summer had given him more than enough male bonding to replace Ron in his life.

"I know you can't feel much for what happened to your relatives,"Hermione said, "but like I said when I first wrote, I am sorry about Hedwig."

Harry's face fell. "I don't know how they could do that to such asweet being," Harry said. "Maybe they had some reason for their, well, their hating me. I was forced on them. But Hedwig. . . ."He shrugged helplessly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Harry shrugged again.

"Are you going to get another owl?"

"No, no I don't think so," Harry said. "Not right away, anyway. It just wouldn't be the same."

"I understand."

Harry smiled wanly. "Shall we go buy out a bookstore?"

Hermione's eyes went up in mock shock.

"I learned something this summer, Hermione."

"What's that?"

"For nearly ten years, I couldn't excel. THEY" (he spat the term)"couldn't stand me outdoing their precious. I might not be quite as smart as you, but I don't think there'll be many others in our class ahead of me."

Hermione beamed at him, but then her smile faltered.

"I know, Ron won't like it," Harry said. "Either he didn't feel like writing, or he somehow didn't notice the note. That would mean he really wasn't my true friend. Those notes were spelled so that my true friends could see them."

Hermione could see some possible flaws in Harry's arguments, but was too happy with Harry's full attention to bother pointing them out.

"Well, if you two are ready," Emma Granger said, "It's not a short drive into London." Hermione and Harry blushed as they realized they were still touching. They would stay a few inches apart the rest of the day.

Jason rolled his eyes.

*

"You've come a bit too early to gloat over my corpse," Nicolas Flamel spat. "I just buried my wife. Are you happy?"

Dumbledore straightened his back and started to intone, "To a well-ordered mi . . . AAHH!!"

"I can still whip your hide, Dumbledore! We were perfectly content. We should have given you a fake stone and gone into hiding. Now, bugger off!"

"But. . . ."

"Oh, what do you want now? My life's blood, since you managed to destroy my life's work?"

"I was hoping for some information."

"On?"

"The Old Ones, or the Priesthood of Osiris?"

"Are they after you?" Flamel asked with real relish in his voice.

"I hope not," Dumbledore admitted. "However, they have taken possession of young Harry. . . ."

Flamel cackled with glee. "The last time they took anyone under their wing, at least in Europe, his name was Merlin. I've met afew. Who did you meet?"

Dumbledore described the three men, as they had not given him names.

Flamel grinned. "The one you met today? Very high up in their priesthood. Named Tutmoses. Met him twice, once in . . . 1607 and the other time was in 1926, when the wizarding community was allowed to look over the King Tut material."

Dumbledore's jaw dropped.

"What? He was a magical priest of some sort in Upper Egypt, just before the Old Kingdom came together. There are powers on this earth you will never understand, Dumbledore. Do you think beings who created vampires to help their Muggle lovers live centuries are mere mortals? Now, bugger off, so I can die in peace!"

"But. . . ."

"But nothing! Oh, and I changed my will. You'll get nothing but my left-over dragon blood. Now, get out!"

Dumbledore left, confused on many levels.

"Is he gone?" Perenelle asked quietly, a few minutes later.

"He is. Now, let me fake my death, too, before he realizes I did give him a fake stone last year. We'll announce our deaths, send him his inheritance, and be well-hidden in the Yukon."

*

"We cannot be seen by the non-magical here, so now would be a good time to talk," Jason said, once his charges were near the door of the Leaky Cauldron. "Now, as you might know, there are many in the British wizarding world who do not like Muggles, as they call them, and some are not thrilled about first generation magic users, either."

"How bad is it, really?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Should Voldemort or someone like him stage a take over? Then Iwould say this was Germany back in 1935, and Hermione is a Jew."

"Really?" Hermione asked in a frightened voice.

"Really." Jason snorted. "There are even some who believe that there must be a way for Muggle children to 'steal' magic, that that's why there are Squibs."

"You mean, they think I stole some other child's magic?" Hermione demanded, appalled.

"Exactly. 'Don't allow your children to play with Muggles' doesn't just mean because the Muggle child might discover there is true magic, but because your child might lose his magic."

"That's not how it works!" Hermione protested. Then she shuddered."Is it?"

"Of course not," Jason said. "I'm told it's absolutely genetic." He shrugged. "I don't know about such things. Those in the Brotherhood who do, claim it's a dominate trait of the Xchromosome, whatever that means." He held up his hand, as both Grangers were taking deep breathes so they could inform him. "And I don't need to know. The point is, as soon as we enter the pub, I will transfigure our clothes to look less drably mundane."

"Assimilate and pass?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"The moderate bigots appreciate the effort. It reassures them. Most won't notice you dressed as they do."

And with that, they entered the pub. Mrs. Granger watched several patrons glare at them, especially a rather toad-like woman. Then Jason, with a wave of his wand, transformed their clothes. Mrs. Granger's smart tan business suit flared into robes which were akaleidoscope of brilliant blues for the top and blues and purples for the pleated bottom. Hermione quickly matched her mother's style, but in yellows and greens. Mrs. Granger thought they looked like garish versions of a mid-medieval style.

Harry's and Jason's outfits also looked medieval to Mrs. Granger's eye, except there was little doubt they were kited out as warriors, with more close-fitting robes. Harry, unrecognizable under afloppy hat, placed his wand conspicuously in a holster on his belt. Jason's belt also held a wicked looking knife and an empty scabbard for a short sword.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Granger said, in the same tone all wives use to their husbands when they manage to do an expected task to her near-satisfaction. The patrons relaxed, and the quartet moved quietly through the tavern and into Diagon Alley.

The quartet spent an enjoyable morning and afternoon in Diagon Alley. Harry needed a multi-compartment trunk, but other than that, a visit to Gringotts and a few quick stops to pick up basic supplies and lunch, they spent most of their time in Flourish and Blotts and some used bookstores.

Hermione did notice that Harry avoided looking towards Eelops or the pet store.

"Do you know anything about this Lockhart?" Mrs. Granger asked with distaste, looking at the garish covers of his books.

"Opinion differs," Jason said. "He was a seemingly mediocre student at Hogwarts, who worked as an Obliviator in the early Seventies. When the war got hot, he quit and left Britain. Now, if he did all the things he claimed, well, it would be impossible. However, the main things he's claimed to have done, were done. So, some really significant magic and a lot of puffery equals Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Seemingly. A few people have suggested that he may have paid off the people who did the actual work, or even Obliviated some of the people who did these things. If so, there's no evidence of either, and some Ministries have looked into him. If he did all these things, then he's a braggart, a prima donna, but quite powerful and perhaps even dangerous. If he didn't, then he's possibly even more dangerous."

"Why would Hogwarts hire him, if there's any doubt?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Because who else wanted the job?" Jason asked. "For over thirty years, no one has held the job for more than a year, at least not consecutively. If Lockhart is gone after this year, one of us might ask for the job."

"That would be so cool!" Harry said.

"We'll see," was all Jason would say.