Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Chapter 11: Strategic Plays

The snitch is up by the Ravenclaw stand, hovering over the banner.

Harry has been intently not looking at it since he spotted it twenty minutes into the game. 

Luckily, the Gryffindors are keeping him busy in his referee role.  Since Charlie is not allowed to participate as a First-Year, they don’t have a great Seeker and Arnold Orwen is really, really terrible.  Their Captain has unsurprisingly gone for the same tactics the Slytherins had tried, namely scoring enough goals that it won’t matter if the snitch is caught by the opposite side.

They’re on track because the Ravenclaw team is terrible.  Their one good player, Harriet Widdecombe, is a Seventh-Year, Captain and Beater, and is trying her best to rally her Chasers to no avail.  Her Seeker, a bored Sixth-Year, Ravin Parvarti, sits on his broom, pointed in the wrong direction and playing no part in any of the plays.

Harry sincerely wishes that someone sees the snitch and catches it.  He’s definitely feeling the battle he’d fought the day before and he’d rather not have Hermione berate him for insisting that he was fine to referee anyway.

It’s another twenty minutes before Orwen catches sight of the snitch and shoots off after it, Parvarti flying after him in pursuit.  Parvarti is good enough that he dodges a bludger, a near-miss with a goal hoop, and still catches the snitch before Orwen.  Unfortunately for Ravenclaw though, the Gryffindors have managed to score enough that losing the snitch is not enough to lose the match.  They yell triumphantly as Harry blows the whistle on the game.

He follows his post-match routine – praise and commiseration where it is due – and heads back to his quarters wanting nothing more than a long soak in a tub, something comforting to eat, and to find his bed again.

His quarters are packed with family as always after a match.

Hermione takes one look at him and sends him off to have his long soak. 

When he comes back down for dinner, he finds most of the family are gone.  Sirius and Regina are hunched over books in their respective comfy chairs, and Hermione is curled up with another huge book on the sofa with Crookshanks.

Godric comes padding over for petting as Harry settles himself beside his wife.     

“Where is everyone?” he asks.

“Charlus and Dorea took James home,” Hermione says.  “He was completely exhausted after the match.”

Harry can empathise.

“Lily went to spend some time with Severus,” Hermione continues.  “He came over after the game briefly.”

“Grandfather decided to have an early night,” Sirius says, looking up from his book.  “He’s spent a lot of time wrangling the Ministry.  It’s worn on him.”

Harry nods.  He taps Hermione’s book.  “Good read?”

“Interesting,” Hermione says sincerely.  “It’s the oldest known reference here to magical alternative dimensional theory.  Director Bell thinks it’s good grounding for trying to untangle some of the arithmancy in the spell that brought us here.  Regina brought it over from the Black library at Tintagel.”

“It was just gathering dust there,” Regina comments, looking up from her own large tome.

“What are you reading?” asks Harry, accepting a mug of hot chocolate from the house elf that pops by.

“Madame Scorpio’s Treatise on Divine Seeking,” Regina says dryly.  “We need more methodologies.  We’ve tried the ways we know with no success at finding the path to the Temple.  So far, I’ve not found very much.”

“Me either,” Sirius shuts the book he’s reading with a snap and sets it on the side table.  “To be fair, I think they’re all just variants of the same type of Seeking that we’ve tried already.”

“What have you been trying?” Hermione asks.

“It’s an old technique,” Regina replies cheerily.  “You fill a wooden shallow bowl filled with fresh water, place it in the centre of a ritual circle, light a circle of candles around you and sit there trying to commune with the universe to search the past with your Gift.”

“That’s why you have to be Gifted to be part of the circle for that Seeking,” Sirius adds.

Harry vaguely remembers the practice from his Divination lessons with Trelawney.

“We even tried using the ring as a focus point,” Sirius remarks tiredly.  “It has definitely travelled to the Temple.”

“And nothing,” Regina remarks with a sigh.  She rubs her forehead.  “I think we could have been successful, but the way is fogged.”

“Magic,” Hermione muses.  Her eyes widen suddenly as she’s evidently hit by a thought.  “Could the Temple be under a Fidelius?”

Sirius and Regina look at her sharply.

“Not the Fidelius,” Sirius says, “that particular spell wasn’t invented back then…”

“But something similar to obscure it and hide it even in memory?” Regina muses out loud.  “That is entirely possible.”

“Why would the centaurs and unicorns be able to find it if it’s hidden that way?” asks Harry bluntly.  

“Maybe it was obscured in the minds of witches and wizards rather than all magical beings,” Regina theorises.  Her fingertips tap restlessly on the book she still holds.

“If we did a Seeking with that in mind?” asks Sirius out loud.

“Maybe we still would be unsuccessful,” Regina says.  “We’re looking for the secret so the magic protects it.”

“What if you weren’t looking for the secret, but for the memory of the obscuring spell being cast?” asks Hermione.

They both look at her again.

“If you can see the spell, you might be able to work out how to counter it when you Seek the pathway,” she continues.

“It’s worth a try,” Regina says. 

“If we assume Merlin or Vivien was involved with this spell, we may need more power than the two of us in the circle,” Sirius says.  “It could need a coven.”

Regina nods slowly.  “Seven of us?”  She gestures towards the sofa.  “We have four of us here.”

Hermione holds a hand up.  “Some of us aren’t Gifted, remember?”

“Not necessary in the coven method,” Sirius says.

“Six with Lily and James,” Harry adds, “I’m sure they’d want to take part.”

“And the seventh?” asks Sirius.  “You know Lily will want to ask Severus.”

“He is a powerful wizard,” Regina rejoins, waggling her eyebrows.

Sirius’ expression is so appalled that Harry starts laughing.

“Wasn’t the Temple created by witches?” Hermione asks.

Regina nods.  “Legends say it was created by Mab, Queen of the Fae.”

“So, it would follow that you need more witches than wizards in the coven,” Hermione says.  “Perhaps only witches.”

“Perhaps,” Regina tilts her head as she thinks about it.  “But our family blood and the magic of being Knights, having Arthur’s blessing, could be a factor too.”  She chews on her lip.  “I say we try with us and…and perhaps Dorea.  She can stand as Crone, Lily as Mother, yourself Hermione as Maid.”  She waves a hand at Hermione.  “It doesn’t have to be literal; it just means a young woman and you’re still younger than Lily and I.  I’ll stand as the Priestess.  The other three of you will stand as Arthur’s Knights.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione agrees.  Her eyes flicker to Harry.  “Next weekend then?  It gives us a week to rest and discuss the ritual more.”

“I think that’s sensible,” Regina says.

“Can we assume that Riddle and his band won’t hunt the unicorns in the meantime?” asks Sirius.

“Ours relied on hiding and shadows to build his power,” Harry says.  “He lost the skirmish with the centaurs – he didn’t realise they would have aid, and he wasn’t ready to have one of his inner circle revealed.  I think he’ll go to ground for now, but if his body is hanging on by a thread, he’ll need a remedy and soon.”

Hermione blows out a breath.  “It’s times like these that I really hate that we don’t have a spy in his camp.”

“True,” Harry says, “Snape was a complete dick, but his spying was useful.”  He pauses.  “Well, more for Dumbledore than us, but Dumbledore would sometimes share.”

“I think your guess is a good one,” Regina says.  She folds her arms over her chest.  “Word is that Narcissa asked Bellatrix to move out of Malfoy Manor.”

Hermione hums. 

Harry slides his hand into hers gently.  He knows the mention of Bellatrix and the Manor will have stirred old memories.

“They’re in lockdown mode, then,” Hermione says, “as we suspect.”

“Do you think Bellatrix is the anchor that we think he needs?” asks Harry, thinking out loud.  “Our Bellatrix was completely obsessed with him.  It wouldn’t surprise me if she was already planning a wedding if he’s killed off her husband.”

Hermione’s nose wrinkles.  “I really don’t want to think about them together like that!”

Regina gives a mock shudder.  “I really don’t want to think about Bellatrix being with anyone at all!”

Sirius nods.  He gestures over to Harry.  “You said Locke disappeared at Hogsmeade and came back injured?”

“He said he fell off the pavement,” Harry shrugs.  “It’s suspicious, but…” he thinks back to how they’d zeroed in on Snape as a suspect despite Quirrell’s weirdness.  “I don’t think we can rule him out, Voldemort will definitely have someone here as a spy himself, but whether Locke is the anchor or a Death Eater or just a Professor…” he shrugs again.

“And he wasn’t the only one missing,” Hermione comments.  “Sara left the lunch before we did.”

“Well, if you go on the principle that he has someone here, there were a number of new recruits after the Christmas break,” Sirius says.

“Locke,” Harry murmurs. 

“Sara,” Hermione adds.

“Wilde,” Sirius says.  “He also joined after Christmas.”  He frowns.  “Professor Glass was new to the staff in September.  The rest of us have been here for at least a couple of years.”

“Wilde and Glass were not on chaperone duty at Hogsmeade,” Hermione notes.  “We have no idea of their whereabouts during everything.”  She looks over at Sirius.  “I don’t think I’ve said more than a handful of words to either of them.  How well do you know them?”

Sirius shrugs.  “Professor Glass keeps to the Divination Tower.  I think I’ve spoken to her only at staff meetings and once at dinner when there was a guest and she was asked to change seats.  She sat in Harry’s seat as we didn’t have a Flying Instructor.”

“She’s well-respected,” Regina asserts.  “Grandfather considered her as a possible mentor for me when I started to have visions after Grams died.”

“I know Lily’s gotten to know Sara well,” Hermione says with a frown. “She seemed very decent at the lunch.”

Regina smiles.  “It sounds to me like you all need to socialise a bit more as staff.”

“Merlin, no,” Sirius retorts.

Harry chuckles at his appalled expression. 

Hermione grins.  “You’re not wrong, I have no idea how we’d make time for it if nothing else, but Regina’s right we should make an effort over the next few weeks to get to know them more.  If one of them is a spy or the anchor, we need to establish who.”

“It’s dangerous,” Regina says sombrely, closing her book.  “If they realise you are digging into them, they may attack you.”

They all take a minute to ponder on her true words.

Hermione sighs.  “Lily already has an in with Sara, we can use that.”

“I can talk to Locke,” Harry suggests.  “I could suggest a Duelling Club.”

“I could take Glass,” Sirius says, “but that means telling her I’m the Black Knight and I’d rather that stay within the family as much as possible.”

“I could do it,” Regina suggests.  “I can approach her about a Mastery.  The only problem is that it would take more time than maybe we have for me to establish any degree of closeness.”

“I could approach her for help,” Hermione sighs.  “She already knows I’m a Knight of Avalon and I can say I want to learn more about the Sight now to understand better since I didn’t end up taking Divination and I’m very sceptical.”

“That sounds feasible,” Sirius says approvingly.

“Which leaves Wilde,” Harry murmurs.

They’re all silent for a moment.

Hermione frowns.  “He’s Runes and Magical Craft, right?”  She nudges Harry.  “It would make more sense if you approached him, maybe on help with broom repair or design.”

“I could take Locke,” Sirius suggests, “Duelling Club would be a good approach and you could still get involved in it, but you’ve got the best pretext for building a relationship with Wilde.”

Harry nods slowly.  “Sounds like a plan,” he says and is caught out by a large yawn.

Hermione pats his arm.  She gazes at him sympathetically.  “Come on.  Let’s get some food and you can crash.”

He doesn’t argue.

They talk of lighter topics over the cosy dinner they sit down to eat – a satisfying roast beef dinner followed by Harry’s favourite treacle tart.  Hermione steers him up the stairs almost immediately afterwards much to Regina’s amusement.

He’s out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow.

The next morning is a flurry of lessons and he leaves it until the end of the day to head over to the Runes classroom.  He looks through the open door and finds Wilde sitting behind a large desk at the front of the classroom making his way through a stack of essays.

“Professor Wilde,” Harry knocks politely on the doorframe.  “May I come in?”

Wilde looks up and blinks at him, confusion writ over his face before his expression clears and he smiles widely.  “Of course, dear boy!”

Harry smiles and walks up to the desk.  “I wondered if you had some time to talk about an idea I had?”

“Please, sit and save me from this marking terror!” Wilde quips with a twinkle in his rheumy eyes. 

Harry grins and takes a chair from one of the student desks, pulling it up beside Wilde.  “I was thinking about introducing a broom maintenance and design element to the upper flying classes, but I never took Runes myself and thought you might have some ideas about how I can go about it?”

Wilde’s face lights up.

Harry is surprised when they spend a very enjoyable time working out a new joint project for the Fifth-Year Rune students and the Flying class.  They have a draft proposal committed to parchment when a familiar Hogwarts house elf pops in beside Harry.

“Professor Hermione sends me to remind you dinner is soon, Instructor Harry,” Kitsy says.

Harry thanks her and as she pops away casts a tempus spell.  They only have twenty minutes before they need to be in the Great Hall.

“Ah,” Wilde says regretfully, “we were so close to being done!”  He looks over at Harry hopefully.  “After dinner?”

“I think my wife will expect me back in our quarters,” Harry says, smiling to take the sting out of the decline.

Wilde chuckles and nods.  “I’ve never taken a wife, but I recall they do insist on time with their husbands!”  He sighs.  “It’s a shame we can’t continue discussing it over our meal, but Albus will not allow for freer seating at dinner amongst the staff – he does so like people staying in their usual spots!  Armando was not so rigid.”

“Armando?” Harry raises his eyebrows at the name.  “You knew Headmaster Dippet?”

“I served under his tenure as Professor of Runes and Magical Craft,” Wilde confirms cheerily as he starts to clear up his desk in preparation for them leaving for dinner.  “I believe my previous working relationship with Albus is why he invited me back when he was left stranded with Finn’s desertion to Durmstrang.”

Harry nods absently.  “Did you know a student by the name of Tom Riddle?”

Wilde seems a little bemused at the question, blinking in surprise.  “The Head Boy?” He nods.  “Not as well as Horace, he favoured the boy very blatantly, but he was in my class.  A good student, I recall.”  His gaze sharpens suddenly on Harry.  “Is there a particular reason you ask about him?”

“He was a prominent wizard on my previous world,” Harry deflects.  “I’ve yet to hear his name here though and the information Hermione and I found has him abroad.”

“European tours straight after graduation used to be the done thing,” Wilde recalls nostalgically.  “I made my own trek many, many years ago.”  He pauses and hums.  “It is surprising that Riddle has been away for so long.  He was very ambitious.  Perhaps he found his happiness somewhere along his journey.”

“Maybe,” Harry demurs. 

He wonders if Wilde knowing Riddle puts him more fully into the suspect group.  He had seemed genuinely surprised to be asked about him.  Which, Harry thinks, would not be the case if he’d taken part in the attack on the centaurs.

He focuses back on Wilde.  “Shall we head to dinner?”

They chat amicably on the way about the new project before parting ways at the staff table, Wilde heading to his seat while Harry slides in beside Hermione, nodding a hello to Hagrid already seated.

“Good talk?” asks Hermione, already digging into the main dish on the offer, a chicken casserole with delicate herb dumplings.

Harry nods and helps himself. “Did you know Professor Wilde used to work here when the Headmaster was Armando Dippet?”

Hagrid snorts.  “Old Ambrosius worked ‘ere for years.  He was ‘ere teaching Runes when I was a student.”

“Was he?” Hermione exchanges a pointed look at Harry because her mind has flown to the same place he did.  “Well, we should invite you both for dinner sometime,” she says to Hagrid, “I’m sure you both have some great stories about Hogwarts back then.”

Hagrid grins and he launches into a story about a prank involving grubworms. 

Sirius joins them when Harry is almost finished with his meal.  He nods at them both.  “Headmaster Dumbledore has asked for us to meet with him in his office after dinner.  The Minister will be there.”

“The Council?” asks Hermione under her breath.

Sirius nods, as he places his napkin on his lap and fills his plate from a fresh serving of casserole. “I think so.”

Harry focuses on finishing his own meal, taking a slice of apple pie for dessert.

The Hall is a buzzing cacophony of students and he lets his gaze drift out to the tables. 

The Slytherins are talking amongst themselves apart from the odd one or two who sit with a book determinedly ignoring their fellow students.  Sylvestre is holding court amongst his year group, Josephine hanging off his arm, but he can see Geraldine frowning heavily at whatever is being said.  He wonders what briefly before moving on.

The Ravenclaws are mostly reading, with a few groups of friends debating topics between themselves.  At the end of the table, a glum Georgina sits staring at her food.  Ravenclaw is at the bottom of their Quidditch table after the match.  He makes a note to talk with her in their Flying class the next day.

The Hufflepuff table, by contrast, is happily chattering away with nothing of note drawing Harry’s attention.

Gryffindor is loud as always.  Bill and his friends are ensconced in a fierce discussion of some kind in the middle of the table.  Harry’s eyes narrow when Harriet darts a furious look over to the Slytherins.

Trouble.

“Something’s brewing,” Hermione comments.

A quick look at her reveals she’d followed his gaze.

“As much as I hate to say it, we have other things to worry about than the Gryffindors and Slytherins getting into a prank war with each other,” Hermione says softly.

Hagrid huffs beside her.  “Won’t be the first time and won’t be the last!”  He smiles at them.  “Ah, Bill’s got a good ‘ead on his shoulders.  He won’t lead them into too much trouble.”

“The key words being ‘too much,’” says Hermione dryly.

They finish their meal, Sirius murmuring he’d get dessert in their quarters after, and make their way up to the Headmaster’s office.

It’s not a surprise to find Severus Snape lurking in the back of the room.  Harry wonders at the relationship between this Dumbledore and Snape.  His versions had been tied by Snape’s vow and Dumbledore’s need to control the board, but these versions…

One more thing to put on their list to investigate, Harry muses.

Dumbledore welcomes them in and waves them to the conference table he’s set-up for the meeting before he goes back to the Floo and calls the Minister.

Harry takes one seat with Hermione and Sirius flanking him on either side.

She enters with the Director of the DOM, Gared Bell, the Director of the DMLE, Crouch, and an Auror team consisting of Moody and the Mischief Makers including James.  Harry is relieved Scrimgeour is not part of the group.  The final person through the Floo is Griselda Marchbanks, the Chief Witch.

They arrange themselves around the table, Marchbanks sitting at the head of the table while Dumbledore situates himself at the bottom.  Bagnold sits to Marchbanks’ left, opposite them, with the Directors taking seats on Bagnold’s side; all the Aurors stand behind them.

Harry’s not thrilled at Dumbledore’s position which signals some kind of seniority and leadership.

Marchbanks sniffs and peers down the table.  “Headmaster, we agreed your counsel would be useful and for you to have a place on the Council in return for us using Hogwarts as a safe place to meet.”  Her eyes flicker to where Snape is leaning against a wall.  “We did not agree that your acolyte should be present.”

Severus looks towards Dumbledore and Dumbledore nods.  He leaves the office without a word.

Marchbanks hums and turns her attention back to the table.  “Auror Potter, Professor Black, my understanding is that as the heirs to your respective Houses, the Earl of Gryffindor and the Earl of Grimmauld have both acquiesced to you representing their interests in this matter on this Council.  Correct?”

“Correct, Chief Witch,” James answers.  “With the caveat that we are able to continue to discuss matters on this topic with trusted members of our families.”

“We’ve accounted for that in your vows,” Marchbanks says. 

Dumbledore doesn’t look happy, Harry notes.

“Right,” Marchbanks says.  She motions at Moody.  “Do a surveillance sweep, Alastor, and make sure there is nobody listening to us.”

Moody grumbles under his breath, but his wand is out and doing the diagnostic spell anyway.  He nods satisfied.

Marchbanks taps her own wand on the table and parchments appear before them.

Harry picks his up to read it. 

“I, name/title, swear by my family magic that I will hold the secrets of the War Council to which I am assigned or else lose my magic and my life.”

Sirius nudges his own parchment towards Harry.

“I, Sirius Black, Baron Ravenshold, swear by my family magic that I will hold the secrets of the War Council to which I am assigned, allowing exceptions for trusted members of my family magic, or else lose my magic and my life.”      

Harry glances toward Hermione.  She gives him an encouraging nod.

Harry looks at Marchbanks and nods himself.  “Hermione and I’ll need to follow Sirius’ format so I can speak to my family members in confidence. Shall we do this?”

They took turns.

Marchbanks went first.  Each of the Ministry followed.  Dumbledore was next.  Sirius went before Hermione.  She made her vow and Harry was left.

He held up his wand and made the vow.  He felt the family magic rush through him, accepting the promise. 

He took a deep breath.  “Everything myself and Hermione are about to say today is a secret of this War Council to which we are all assigned.  Does everyone accept that?”

There was a chorus of agreement.

Harry looks at Hermione briefly for strength and she gives him a tremulous smile. 

“When I was fifteen months old, a Dark wizard styling himself as Lord Voldemort attacked our home in Godric’s Hollow,” Harry begins.  “My father died trying to save us.  My mother took me to the nursery and enacted a protection spell using the sacrifice of her own life and magic to trap Voldemort.  When he cast the Killing curse at me, it rebounded and disembodied his soul.”

Hermione reached for his hand and he held it.

“I was rescued from the rubble, and with my godfather falsely accused of aiding Voldemort, I was sent to live with my mother’s non-magical family,” Harry continues, “I lived unaware that I was known as the Boy Who Lived in the wizarding world and revered as the one who had defeated Voldemort.”

“What an appalling thing to call an orphaned child!” Marchbanks says.

Harry smiles his thanks at her.  “I’m not particularly fond of the moniker.” He rubs his forehead.  “At eleven I received my invite to Hogwarts, came to the school, made some really excellent friends…” he shoots Hermione a grin.

She rolls her eyes at him.

“…and battled with the wraith of Voldemort who had taken possession of a Professor,” Harry finishes.

“It was the beginning of the Second Wizarding War,” Hermione says, a slight lecturing tone to her voice.  “Over the course of our school years, Voldemort threatened Harry at every turn.  He was protected by death from actions he’d taken before his rise to power in the First Wizarding War.  It wasn’t until we were at the end of what would have been our Seventh-Year that we were able to neutralise those and Harry defeated him in a duel.”

“Our world is not an exact match for what is happening here,” Harry says.  “Events are muddled.  We think your Voldemort is already physically fragile, perhaps not a wraith, but that his physical body is damaged and his hanging onto it by a thread, even though he hasn’t had his first rise to power yet.”

“Moreover, there are similarities to events we encountered at Hogwarts with Voldemort when we were eleven and twelve that seem to be happening in a slightly different way here now,” Hermione says.

“Fate is a jealous Mistress,” Dumbledore says.  “If Harry was meant to lead the battle against this Voldemort, then Fate may have moved to ensure that it happens now in our world now that he is here.”

Harry notices how James flinches a little at that.  He sends him a reassuring look and James smiles back at him grimly.

“You speak of Voldemort.  Charlus and Arcturus came to Moody with a theory that the wizard behind the unicorn attacks is Tom Riddle just after Christmas.  You identified Lestrange when the centaurs attacked, a known associate of Riddle.” Bagnold says bluntly.  “Is Tom Riddle the wizard behind the mask?  Is he the one who waged war on you in your world as the Dark Lord Voldemort?”   

Hermione’s hand tightens on his.

Harry takes a deep breath.  “Yes, and I believe I’m Fated to fight your Tom Riddle just as I was my own.” 

He sees the conclusions Bagnold and Dumbledore draw, the smug small smiles that give away that they think they’ve worked out his Knight mission.  They’ll let them think that.  It gives them cover.  And even though Riddle isn’t his mission for his King, it is true that he’s still Fate’s chosen for Riddle.

Chapter 12: Ritual Conversations

Tintagel has its own harsh beauty, Harry thinks.

The sea churns below him and the wind lifts his hair as he stares out into the horizon.  To his left, he can see the muggle ruins of an old medieval tower swarm with tourists who are none the wiser that the actual Castle Tintagel, the official residence of the Earl of Grimmauld, still stands on the cliff to their right, a few miles further down the coastline.  

Godric noses his hand and Harry pats the grim’s head fondly.  He’d used the excuse of walking Godric to leave the others immersed in discussions about the ritual.  He rarely gets time alone for thinking at Hogwarts.

If he’s in their quarters, usually he’s with Hermione or Sirius or Lily, or a combination of them.  And he’s not complaining about time with his wife.  He loves Hermione, loves being with her.  He does have the moments when he’s not teaching and he’s alone in his office, but he’s usually focused on marking or planning or broom maintenance.  He rarely has time to just think.

And he needs to think after the past week, after everything that has happened.

Harry pushes a hand through his hair. 

The attack on the centaurs was terrible.  It’s given him all new nightmares to go with the old ones of the war.  Yet he knows given the same choice he’d go to save them every time.  He just wishes that he’d been quicker or better so that James might not have been so injured.

He shudders anew at the memory of James bleeding out on the ground…

The secret of the centaurs’ location hums in his magic.  He can feel its weight if he focuses upon it.  He can see why the Fidelius isn’t used that often.  Only the most powerful can tolerate the press of it.  He knows now that Wormtail must have intended to keep the secret of the Potters’ location; that in the moment he’d made the vow he had good intentions – magic would not have accepted the spell otherwise.  Maybe in the end, Harry considers, the weight of carrying the secret had just been too much for him, or maybe it hadn’t been enough to overcome his fear of not telling Voldemort when the Dark Lord had asked.

Harry’s only just lost the tiredness he’s felt from fighting, from saving James, from casting the Fidelius…from stupidly refereeing a Quidditch match the day after.

From making a vow not to reveal the secrets of the Council.

His magic has ached all week.

He’s still not entirely certain telling the Council about their Tom Riddle and the events of the Second Wizarding War has been the best decision. 

Harry’s aware that as far as James and Sirius are concerned that he’s done the right thing, and that Charlus and Arcturus are of the same mind.  Arcturus had told him bluntly that the more they know of what happened in Harry’s own world, the more insight into what might happen with theirs.

Harry doesn’t know about that.  He can’t help but feel that this world moves in a different way; time flows differently; the past is different thanks to the family magic in so many miniscule ways that events will not unfold the same.

He’s comforted by the knowledge that Hermione feels the same.

He takes a deep breath, lets his lungs fill with the crisp sharpness of the cold.  It’s not as biting as the air in Scotland, Cornwall is too far South to retain the North’s unique type of cold, but it is bracing nonetheless.

The thing that worries him most, Harry muses, beyond the Evil they’re still to work out, is that there is the weird sense of events repeating themselves with Riddle yet with different twists. 

The attack on the unicorns by wizards to gain the beautiful creatures for evil rituals whereas his Voldemort had simply had Quirrell drink the blood.

The troll in Hogsmeade whereas they had battled a troll in a girl’s bathroom.

This Hagrid giving away to a stranger the information that they should talk to the centaurs about the unicorns to get a dragon’s egg whereas their Hagrid had told his mysterious dragon supplier how to get past Fluffy.

Voldemort possessing a Professor whereas they believe the anchor keeping him in his own body is a member of staff…

Strange echoes but distorted by the world they’re in and Harry’s own inclusion in that world through Merlin’s spell.

He shivers.

He hates that his destiny and Riddle’s will always be entangled in whatever universe they’re in.  Somewhere across the multiverse there has to be a Harry Potter who gets to live without battling Voldemort.  He has always hated how Fate has bound him and Riddle together.

Harry takes another deep breath. 

Riddle isn’t his Knight mission, and he hates that he and Hermione feel no closer to finding that Evil than they had before they’d come to Hogwarts, but Riddle is Fate’s mission for Harry.

He’s not getting out of it, and he knows himself too well not to pretend he could entirely leave it to others.

He lets himself feel every bit of resentment towards Fate, towards Riddle, towards himself because he can’t leave it alone, for a very long moment; lets himself wallow in it…and lets it go.

It won’t serve him.

Instead, he lets his mind drift to the other news James has confided – that he had accepted the position of the White Knight, the counterbalance and brother of the Black Knight.  There to primarily support the Black Knight.

He can’t help but feel it is another echo – a mending of the close relationship between James and Sirius that they hadn’t been able to build in this world before Harry’s arrival.  He’s pleased for them.  He’s built his own friendships with both, but he wants them to find the friendship they had enjoyed together in his world.

He’s a little jealous.

Godric whines as though he’s hearing Harry’s thoughts and Harry absently pets him before he stuffs his hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

He wants his friends back.  He wants Luna and Neville and Ron, for all that they’d drifted in the wake of Harry’s exile to the muggle world.  He wants people to talk to who know him; who were there when their troll tried to kill Hermione, when he battled their Voldemort…

He wants the friends who saw him hurt and bleed to save the world; who hurt and bled for it themselves.

He’s grateful, beyond grateful that he has Hermione.  He has no idea how he would survive this experience without her beside him.  But while Hermione is his closest confidante, his best friend, she’s never been his only friend, even when they were living in the muggle world together.

He’s never been her only friend.

He blows out a breath.

He’s glad she’s started to build friendships of her own with Lily and Regina, but he knows like him she misses their friends back home. 

He worries that he’s too much for her; that being here alone with him will become too much for her.

As if the universe has heard him, Hermione walks up and stands beside him, hooking her arm around his.

“What are you thinking so seriously about?” asks Hermione, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Missing our world, our friends,” Harry admits. He hesitates but continues. “Wondering if I’m enough for you.”

Hermione shifts to look at him.  “I am endlessly grateful that I am here with you, by your side.” She pokes his ribs.  “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“You miss our friends though,” Harry murmurs.  “I know I miss them.”

“I do,” Hermione sighs and resumes leaning her head on his shoulder as they stare out at the choppy waves.  “We’re making other friends here, but sometimes I just want to meet up with Neville for lunch or have a letter from Luna about her latest escapade.  And I miss Ron’s friendship, more for you than me in honesty.”

“I know I’m creating friendships here,” Harry says, “I just miss him.”

Hermione hugs his arm a little tighter. 

Harry sighs.  “Going home feels like it’s miles away.”

“Because it is,” Hermione says bluntly.  “Director Bell thinks we’ll have years here yet, they’ve barely managed to scratch the surface on decoding the arithmancy which brought us here let alone finding a way to send us back.  We have no idea how much time will have passed in our own world either.”

“I know we have to make the best of being here,” Harry says softly, “I just…”

She raises her head again.  “It’s OK to struggle with it, Harry.  I struggle with it some days.” She bites her lip.  “Regardless that their intention was to save this world, Arthur and Merlin were so selfish in what they did to us both.  We’re very lucky that your families have been so welcoming and protective of us, and even then, there are things set-up which feel too much like we’re just pieces on a chessboard again.”

“Like Black Knights and White Knights?” asks Harry wryly.

“Exactly,” Hermione agrees.  “And Regina…Priestess of Avalon.” She sighs heavily.  “Not to mention the whole fucked-up thing Fate has for continually making Tom Riddle your problem.”

Hearing her defence of him, her agreement that he has a right to his resentment and struggles, makes Harry feel better, calmer.

“How are you doing with everything?” Harry asks.

Hermione flushes prettily, her cheeks taking on a rosy glow.  “Like I said some days are better than others,” she admits.  “I love being with you, love being here for you, but sometimes I wish we could forget all about missions and quests and saving people and just be normal.”

“Hmmm,” Harry tugs her into a hug.  He smiles a little.  “You know you’d be bored within a day?”

She snorts a laugh.  “Come on, everyone is waiting for us for dinner.  Dorea thinks the best time for the ritual to find the path to the temple will be midnight tonight.”

Harry allows her to pull him in the direction of the castle.  “I’m still not sure how Sirius got Dumbledore to agree to us all taking a night out of Hogwarts.”

“It’s not a Hogsmeade weekend,” Hermione suggests, “and I suspect Sirius’ leveraged the need to ensure the safety of the unicorns with him.”

“I still don’t know how Dumbledore convinced Marchbanks to let him on the Council,” Harry complains.

“No doubt with the offer to use Hogwarts as she alluded to at the meeting,” Hermione points out. “As much as I hate to admit it, his office is the safest location for the Council to meet without fear of surveillance, even with a potential anchor for Riddle on staff.”

They wander back through the echoing corridors of the castle to the room they’ve been allocated for the night’s stay.  It reminds Harry of a Bed and Breakfast rather than their usual family suites.  It’s a simple bedroom with an ensuite bathroom attached.  After a quick wash-up, they head to the cosy dining room situated in the main tower.

Everyone else is already seated, Harry and Hermione slide into the remaining two chairs left open beside James.

Harry notes James has taken the seat to the right of his father who occupies the bottom of the table, opposite Dorea.  Lily is beside Dorea and Sirius beside her.  Arcturus is at the seat at the head of the table, Regina is next to Harry. 

Minerva is back at Hogwarts and unable to join them.

The meal is lighter fare – a clear chicken broth, followed by salmon with creamed spinach and baby potatoes, and there is a berry mousse for dessert. 

Dorea keeps the topics at dinner on the latest gossip about the unfortunate splinching accident of one of her friends, Esmeralda Flowerbeck, who is laid up in Saint Mungo’s regrowing several bones, and the scandal of the Italian Ambassador’s son running off with a magical circus performer from America.

It is a welcome reprieve from school topics or their more serious discussions.

They retire to the small sitting room in the tower for after dinner coffee, served with a cheese board and bowls of beautifully wrapped chocolates. 

Harry ignores the food.  He’s had more than enough.  He watches in amusement as James offers Lily a chocolate.  They’d pulled Harry aside earlier to let him know they’ve decided to court.  He’s happy for them.

Harry wraps an arm around Hermione to pull her closer.

“Well, we should speak about what we’re here to do,” Dorea says briskly as her coffee cup clatters into its saucer. 

“We should,” Arcturus agrees, “but I think firstly we need to catch-up on discussions and activities.”

“It would be wise to take stock of where we are, Mum,” James murmurs, rubbing a hand through his hair.

Dorea nods.

Charlus clears his throat.  “To sum up, Riddle is active.  He’s been active since abroad where something happened to lock down a whole part of the Romanian countryside.  We think this might have been the event which damaged his body badly enough that his soul barely clings to it.”

“The DOM are speculating that the original ritual he did seven months ago initially helped him stabilise his physical body,” James adds.  “They think he left the area as soon as it settled.”

“Aligning with when the lockdown in that part of the Romanian countryside was lifted,” Sirius murmurs.

“But it was a stop-gap,” adds James, “hence why he did another ritual at Halloween.”  He gestures from his seat on the arm of the chair where Lily is sitting.  “Director Bell believes that ritual created the anchor.”

“But it’s still not stable,” Hermione says, folding her arms over her chest, “or he wouldn’t be hunting unicorns.”

“Director Bell agrees,” James says, “the ritual we think they want to do is the one Harry identified.  It involves a mare and her foal.  It will make him reborn in essence and immortal.”  He raises two fingers.  “There are two ways to stop him.”

“The first is to find his anchor,” Harry says, “if we can take the anchor out of play, the ritual becomes unusable.  The problem is finding the anchor.”

“We’ve been hypothesising that the anchor is someone sent to spy on us at Hogwarts,” Hermione says, “but his spy might not be his anchor.”

“You’ve been trying to get close to all four Professors who might be suspects,” Dorea notes.  “How has that gone this week?”

Harry sighs and rubs his chin.  “Professor Wilde was a Professor during Headmaster Dippet’s years.  He taught Riddle.  But he was surprised for me to ask about him, and surprised in a way that made sense – like he hadn’t been expected to be asked about a student he hadn’t heard about for years.”  He shrugs.  “Either that or he’s a very good actor.”

“I’m inclined to believe him,” Charlus says.  He waves a hand between Dorea, Arcturus and himself.  “We were all taught by him.  Wilde’s never espoused a traditional platform or politics; he’s always been more focused on his crafts.  I’m surprised he came back to teach because he had a terrible working relationship with Albus.”

“Albus grovelled, apparently,” Dorea says.  “Minerva told me that much.  Finn left them in a pickle and Albus didn’t have any other option but Wilde.  He’s only contracted through until the end of the academic year though.”

Sirius clears his throat.  “Locke is suspect.  His Defence of the Dark Arts speciality is magical creature control.”

“He is an Auror,” James says, “but he was on sabbatical until October last year.  Moody says that the request to have him assigned to Hogwarts came down from Crouch when Dumbledore asked for an Auror.”

“He probably asked for either you, Bertie or Pettigrew first,” Hermione says, tapping her chin.  “Locke’s likely Crouch’s spy at Hogwarts.”

James nods.  “That tracks.  Locke’s one of Crouch’s favoured few.”

“He could be spying for both Crouch and Voldemort, we can’t rule him out,” Arcturus says firmly.  “According to your reports, he absented himself from everyone early on the Hogsmeade weekend, and turned up injured.”

“What about Sara?” Hermione turns to Lily.

“I can’t believe Sara is the spy,” Lily says, a hint of stubbornness in her chin.

“But she is the only one who has gone out of her way to befriend one of us,” Sirius points out, “and she was similarly absent at the time the troll showed up.” He holds her gaze.  “We can’t rule her out.”

“We can’t rule Glass out either,” Hermione says, vexed.  “She pretty much turned me away with a whole stack of cryptic nonsense.”  She pushed a curl behind her ear.

“What did she say exactly?” asks Regina.

“The snake you seek is already in its lair,” Hermione repeats, “and the wolf hides in its sheep’s clothing.  To complete your quest, find the one who will not have lived.”  She sighs.  “She said that’s all the cards will show her.”

“Is she referring to the spy or the anchor?” asks Dorea, her brow creasing.

“I have no idea,” Hermione says with some exasperation.  “This is why I hate Divination.”

“Well, either she deflected like a boss, or it’s clues we can use to root them out,” Regina says thoughtfully.  “Who is the snake?”

“Voldemort?” suggests James.  “He was Slytherin, and he is his descendant.”

Harry’s eyes widen with a sudden thought – the basilisk!  He shoots a look at Hermione and sees when the same realisation hits her.

“Maybe that’s a reference to something else,” she says hurriedly, “we’ll tell you later, but let’s leave that for now as it’s probably not relevant to trying to find the spy.”

They all stare at the two of them, but Harry agrees with her on the relevancy and motions for the discussion to move on.

“The wolf?” asks Sirius, raising his eyebrows pointedly at James.  “That could be Lupin.”

“Or another werewolf,” James says firmly.  “And Remus isn’t even in the country right now, and was part of my surveillance group during the first attack.  I don’t see how he can be either the spy or the anchor.”

“Which leaves the ‘find the one who will not have lived,’” Regina says.

“That could refer to someone who might not have lived except for the family magic,” Hermione says.

“Ariana?” questions Harry.

“Can you see her being a spy for Voldemort though?” asks Hermione.

“No,” Harry admits, “and I doubt she’s the anchor.”

“I think it’s more likely that she was referring specifically to your wider quest with these remarks,” Charlus says crisply.

“So, we’re no further forward on a spy or an anchor,” James concludes with a large amount of chagrin.

“If we can’t stop Riddle hunting the unicorns by taking his anchor out, the second way is to ensure he never finds the unicorns,” Sirius says.  “We know that they’ve retreated behind the magical shield of the Temple of Avalon, but there is a path and it is known to magical creatures.”

“It’s why he attacked the centaurs,” Harry says.  “He hoped to threaten them into showing him the way.  Presumably the ones he did corrupt to show him the way to the centaur village, didn’t just know the path themselves.”

“According to lore, only the Three Who Lead know where it is and they hand it down as one of them dies and another centaur is elevated,” Sirius says.  “If I were Riddle, I’d wait for a centaur patrol, and then see if I can corrupt one to bring out Calum or Magorian.”

Harry grimaces, but he knows it’s a strategy Riddle is likely contemplating. 

“Or he finds another magical creature who can help him find the way,” Hermione says.  “There are the merfolk in the Lake, or the house elves…he just has to think more broadly than the centaurs.”

“There is a risk that if we find a path to the temple, we’ll lead him to the unicorns ourselves,” Sirius says.  “That might be his next option.”

“Maybe we can use that,” Arcturus says.  “He has a spy at Hogwarts, if we find the path, we can set up an ambush.”

“It’s something to consider,” Charlus says.  “Perhaps something to take to the Council?”

Harry blinks as both James and Sirius nod.

“Do we really think the risk is worth it?” asks Regina, bluntly.  “I’d rather not put the unicorns’ safety at risk.”

“If we can get there first, we can make sure they are safe under a Fidelius,” Harry says, “but I think this is going to be a race.”

“So, we make sure it’s a race we can win,” James says with a bright cheeriness to break the tension.

Lily rolls her eyes at him.

“Which,” Dorea states in a firm tone, “brings us back to what we are here to do at midnight.”

They all quail slightly under her hard gaze.

“Charlus and Arcturus will provide a guard while we do the ritual,” Dorea begins.  “Regina is acting as Priestess of Avalon and will lead it.”  She nods to Regina to take over.

“We’ll head to the ritual circle at the top of the tower shortly before midnight,” Regina says.  “Dorea has seen that each of us has a ritual robe, you’ll find them in your rooms.  Wear them and nothing else except your House rings or other significant jewellery.  We don’t need to be sky clad, but the simple robes will help provide unity in our coven.”

Harry hides his wince.  He’d seen the robes when they’d arrived and he’s not a fan of wearing of the simple white silk garments.

Hermione shares a sympathetic look with him as Regina continues.

Less than three hours later, Harry doesn’t bother to hide his unhappiness as he dons the robe.  He admires Hermione when she exits their bathroom.  There is a flush on her cheeks and he knows she feels self-conscious about how the silk is clinging to her curves in the way she pulls at it.  He thinks she looks beautiful.

He offers her his hand and they head up the stone staircase to the roof of the tower.

It’s a clear night.  There are barely any clouds in the sky and the stars shine brightly above them.  The waxing moon is almost full, but not quite there.  It casts a silvery light over the pale stone floor.

Regina stands at the edge of the ritual circle.  She wears an amulet given to her by her grandmother which is engraved with the crest of the Pendragon.  It signifies her position as Priestess.

Harry and Hermione take their positions.  Sirius stands to Regina’s left and Dorea stands to her right.  Hermione takes the spot next to Sirius and James moves to stand beside his mother.  Lily moves to stand beside him and Harry stands between her and Hermione.  He knows their position in the circle has been carefully calculated by Regina.

Regina nods and they lay their wands at their feet and pick up the candles there.  She lights them with a single wandless gesture.

Harry feels his breath catch as magic stirs around them.

“I call upon the ancient magic of Avalon to hear this plea,” Regina says in a loud voice, “your people call you to service.”

The slight wind disappeared; the air was still.

“Your Chosen need to find the path once hidden,” Regina continues strongly.  “I, Priestess of Avalon, call upon the ancient magic to hear this plea; Avalon’s Knights need you.”

Suddenly, the wind picks up in the centre of their circle and sets the dust aloft and spinning in a small whirlwind.

“Let us see Time’s Past!” Regina calls out.  “Let us see how the path was hidden!”

Suddenly the whirlwind clears and there is a fog in the centre of the circle which shifts and moves until it forms a static-y picture, like a television signal that flickers.

There are seven people in a circle, just as they themselves are positioned.

A stunning woman with blonde hair, wearing a white robe, belted with a gold chain, and wearing the amulet of the Priestess of Avalon stands as though opposite Regina.  Her name is whispered on the wind – Vivien, the Lady of the Lake and High Priestess.

Harry’s breath catches as his gaze lands on the figure next to her, opposite to Dorea.  It’s an elderly woman, still beautiful despite her age, with gossamer wings that stretched out behind her.  Her name is the next the wind whispers – Mab, Queen of the Fae.

On the other side of Vivien is a man who looks very much like Sirius, mostly dressed in black armour with his helm missing revealing a head of long black hair shot through with grey, and piercing silver eyes.  His hands rest on the pommel of the broadsword pointed into the ground – Caden, Cador’s grandson, the second Black Knight.  

There is a woman dressed in a white robe with a breastplate of armour engraved with the crest of Pendragon next to him – a beautiful warrior woman with tanned skin, brown hair and eyes.  She wears a sword belt with a short sword sheathed at her hip.  There is a crown of bronze on her head with a snarling dragon depicted – Guinevere, the Queen of Avalon.

Harry shifts his attention to the Knight standing beside Mab.  He is a young blond man, handsome with blue eyes.  He is a counter to the Black Knight in his white armour.  His hands rest on the pommel of his own sword – Galahad, the White Knight.

Beside him is a stunning woman with vibrant copper hair, green eyes and pale skin.  She does not wear an amulet or a crown, but there is a white lily in her hair and she holds a wand.  Harry frowns as her name whispers across the wind – Olwen, Lady of Flowers.

Harry shivers as his gaze lands on the final participant, opposite his own position; a wizard with white hair and sky-blue eyes, carrying a staff.  He sings with power.  Harry swallows hard as he realises who he is – Merlin, the King’s Wizard.  

Suddenly, Merlin’s gaze shifts from Vivien and he’s looking straight at Harry almost as though he can see him.

“Chosen, Knight of Peverell,” Merlin says, even as the ritual continues around him, “why are you here?”

Harry’s heart stutters.  Merlin is talking to him.  Merlin can see him.

Chapter 13: Finding Innocence

Harry clears his throat nervously.  “You can see me.”

“I can see you,” Merlin confirms, “and we are standing here talking through time and space in the in-between created by your magic and mine because magic deems your need important enough to transcend the barriers between us.”

“You brought me across world to fight an Evil which threatens Avalon, but I am Fate’s Chosen as much as I am yours,” Harry grimaces even as he says the words.  He really, really would prefer not to be anyone’s Chosen – except Hermione’s.  “Riddle needs the unicorn mare to kill alongside the foal he already has stolen.  He needs to re-anchor his soul and repair his body.”

“We are hiding the Temple of Avalon,” Merlin says, “but we will ensure the unicorns will always have a path to safety.”

“You make an exception for magical creatures,” Harry agrees, “but Riddle targets the centaurs and…”

“And he will corrupt them, find one to take him to the temple,” Merlin’s face grows grave, all the worry lines carving into chasms.  “He can never have access to the temple.  It holds the doorway to the in-between, to the Camelot that sleeps.”

“Arthur’s resting place,” Harry realises with wide-eyes.

Merlin taps his staff, agitated.

“Riddle won’t stop,” Harry says with certainty.

“He’s a distraction from your true quest,” Merlin mutters, disgruntled.

“Tell that to Fate,” Harry rejoins, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Merlin sighs, closing his eyes briefly.  “Fate is a jealous Mistress.”

“So I’m told,” Harry says.  “In all worlds, Harry Potter is always destined to fight Tom Riddle.  You knew this when you prevented my parents from finding their way to each other.”

Merlin sighs heavily and nods.  “But I had hoped that she would find another.  There was always a second potential choice.”

“Neville,” Harry states.

Merlin nods.  He breathes in.  “But Fate has already made her choice again, has she not?  This is why you stand here now.”

“Will you help us?” asks Harry.

Merlin smiles sharply.  “Seven times past, Seven times future.”  He taps his staff twice on the ground.  “Knowledge is hidden, Knowledge is unhidden.”  He taps his staff two more times.  “The circle is formed, never to be broken.” Two more taps.  “Return to your time, Secret Keeper, Fate’s Chosen, Knight of Avalon!” His staff slams into the ground one last time and…

Harry blinks and sways once more back on the tower roof, looking into the startled faces of his family as the way to the unicorns settles into his head like an old memory.

A gust of cold wind rushes through and the candles wink out, leaving them standing only in the light of the moon.

Regina clears her throat.  She looks tremendously pale and she trembles a little.  “The ancient magic of Avalon has answered our call.  We thank magic.  We thank our circle and leave it unbroken.”

Her words send a warm rush of magic through Harry and he breathes out.

Regina nods.  “It’s safe to step away.”

Harry immediately takes a step back and reaches for Hermione.  She grasps his hand as she moves to stand closer to him.

Sirius turns to his sister, catching her, just as she stumbles in her footing.  “We should get you to bed, Reggie.”

Dorea nods.  “I’ll help you.”  She pats James’ arm as they pass him.

James offers his arm to Lily.  “May I escort you to your room?”

“Yes,” Lily says, her voice shaking a touch.  “I’d like that.”

They nod towards Harry and Hermione leaving them alone on the roof.

“Well, the Harry Potter factor strikes again,” Hermione says.  She touches her forehead.  “We saw you speaking to Merlin although we couldn’t hear what you said.  He showed us the way to the temple, the ways to the temple.” She shakes her head.  “That was…”

“Crazy?” suggests Harry. 

“Crazy,” she kisses him softly.  “Let’s go to bed.  We’re going to need to be sharp for planning what we’re going to do tomorrow now we know.”

Harry follows her lead.

He sleeps better than he had anticipated, waking feeling better than he had done for weeks.  He eats a good breakfast, but notices how Regina in contrast picks at hers and how she brushes aside Sirius’ concern.

When breakfast finishes, Harry follows Regina into the gardens as the others head to the library. 

She smiles sadly at him as he approaches, coming to stand beside her in front of a large water fountain of a rearing unicorn.  “Would you accept it if I said I didn’t want to talk about it?”

Harry sighs and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  “Merlin talked to me.  Did Vivien talk to you?”

Regina shakes her head, her single braid, swinging behind her back, and blows out a breath.  “Not Vivien, Mab.”

“Oh,” Harry says faintly.         

“Mab built the Temple of Avalon,” Regina says.  “It’s her protections that keep the doorway to Camelot safe.  Revealing its location will bring danger to it.”

“She tasked you with seeing it safe as the remaining Priestess of Avalon,” Harry realises.

“Yes,” Regina says tersely.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asks tentatively.

“I don’t know,” Regina sighs and brushes her fringe back.  “I still think finding the temple before Riddle and casting a Fidelius is the right move.  I just…I’m not sure it will be enough.”

“We’ll help,” Harry says. “Hermione and I will do everything we can to help.”

Regina smiles at him.  “I know.” She places her hand on his shoulder and moves past him, back to the castle.

Harry sighs.  He stares up at the cold grey sky and wonders how he can balance everything, if he can balance everything.

If the war in his world had taught him one thing, it was that plans went awry, that things would always go awry more than they would go right.

Harry shakes the thought away and heads inside.

“HARRY!”

Hermione’s shout has him running down the corridor to the Floo room. 

Minerva stands there, a fearful expression on her face.  “Bill Weasley and Sylvestre Malfoy are missing in the Forest.  Hagrid was overseeing a detention and he was set upon.  They knocked him out and when he awoke, his attackers were gone and so were the boys.”

“Detention?” asks Hermione, picking up on the word.

“They were caught in the trophy room attempting to duel one another last night,” Minerva says in a clipped tone.  “We need all Professors back at Hogwarts to search for the boys.” She glances over to James.  “We’ve called the Aurors.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Harry promises.  “I just need a moment with my family.”  He puts a hand up to delay any discussion.  “It’s Council business, Minerva, and you’re not covered by the vows.”

Minerva nods unhappily.  “I’ll tell Albus that you’re on your way.”  She leaves back through the Floo.

“You think this is a trap?” asks Sirius as soon as the flames die.

“Riddle is luring us into the forest,” Harry says bluntly.  “Some of us not involved in the search should head to the temple straight away.  You can provide protection to the unicorn herd.”

“I can go,” Regina says, “I should go – I’m the Priestess.  The temple is mine to protect.”

“I’ll go with you,” Arcturus says immediately.

Sirius looks torn.  “Dumbledore will expect me.”

“And you should keep to your duty as a Professor in this matter,” Charlus says firmly.  He exchanges a quick glance with Dorea.  “We can go with Arcturus and Regina.”

Sirius nods.  “Grandfather…”

“Charlus is right, Sirius,” Arcturus says.  “You’re best placed to help Harry and Hermione if you go with them.  The rest of you should come as soon as you all can and we’ll get the place under the Fidelius.”

Harry is swept up in a rush of goodbyes.  He calls Godric to him.

Once they have boots and cloaks on, with provisions packed away in prepared rucksacks, they’re ready.  A moment later they’re through the Floo stepping into Minerva’s office.  The Deputy Headmistress nods at them, whirling around to lead them out of her office, out of Hogwarts and across the grounds to the forest.

There is a small gathering of Professors at the edge, along with a small group of Aurors.

Dumbledore is there, staring out into the forest with his hands on his hips, the picture of a fierce wizard.  Hagrid sits on a log beside him, sobbing into an overlarge handkerchief, being comforted by Pomona and Stabling.  There is a sizeable bump and bruise on his head.

James peels away from them to join the Aurors as Harry, Hermione, Sirius and Lily take their places with the other staff, Minerva heading to Dumbledore’s side.

“This is a bad bit of business,” Filius says.

“No doubt the children have simply run off,” Severus says, annoyance lacing through every word.  He sneers at the gathering.

“Severus,” Lily remonstrates with him gently, “Bill Weasley is not the type of child to run off mischievously.”  She frowns.  “Neither is Sylvestre Malfoy for that matter.”

“Indeed not,” Horace says, wringing his hands.  “The parents will have to be informed and Gaius Malfoy will not be pleased at this turn of events.”

Locke is almost vibrating, Harry notices.  Sara stands beside Glass, Ariana and Pomfrey.  She nods over in their direction.  Harry frowns as he realises Wilde is missing.

“If I could have everyone’s attention!” Dumbledore says loudly.

They all turn to face him.

“Earlier today, Hagrid was out with two boys overseeing a detention when he was attacked,” Dumbledore states grimly.  “The boys are missing.  We believe they’re still in Hoggle Forest.  I have sent a Patronus to the centaurs to help us.  We will split into search parties.” He motions at Minerva.

“I will return to the school shortly to inform the boys’ parents,” Minerva says.  “Healer Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey will remain in the infirmary, and they have provided us with the usual emergency portkeys there.  I will also ask for Horace and Pomona to stay behind with me to assist in keeping the students safe in the castle.”

“Thank you, Minerva,” Dumbledore says.  “Two Aurors will accompany each search party and…” he pauses as Glass raises her wand.  “Yes, Professor Glass?”

“I feel I would be better to remain behind and see if I can locate them through my gifts,” Glass says. 

Dumbledore’s jaw clenches.  He waves his hand towards her.  “We can spare you.”  He resumes his speech.  “As I was saying two Aurors will accompany each search party.  If I may have Professor Flitwick and Evans as our first search party.”

Lily shoots them an encouraging smile and stand next to Flitwick.  Harry watches as his father immediately joins them along with Bertie.

“Professor Black with Professor Locke,” Dumbledore continues.  “Professor and Instructor Potter together, and Professor Wood with Professor Stabling.  Apprentice Snape and I will be our last remaining search party.  Please send a Patronus or send up a flare if you need to call for help.”

“Is Professor Wilde not joining us?” asks Locke sharply.

Harry is glad someone else has asked the question.

“He is out on family business today like many of our number,” Minerva says briskly.  “He’s not yet returned following my summons to him.”

Harry frowns.  He’s certain Wilde isn’t the spy or anchor but he can’t deny it unsettles him that he isn’t present. 

They set off, Godric racing ahead into the trees.  Harry and Hermione follow him.  They are joined by two Aurors who introduce themselves cheerily as Todd and Linus, both mature men with thinning hair, one blond, one brunet.  Harry is just pleased that Pettigrew isn’t with them; he’d gone with Sirius and Locke.   

“I’m really pleased I decided to wear jeans and a thick jumper today,” Hermione mutters as they follow a path to the left of the one that would take them to where the unicorns used to graze.

“Me too,” Harry says.

There’s a sudden snap to their right and a yell followed by the bright yellow flare of a ‘help’ signal. 

They leave the path, cutting through the trees until they emerge in the clearing where they find Sara tangled up with Devil’s Snare.  She’s desperately trying to tug it off from around her left ankle and lower leg.  It’s starting to creep up her leg.

There is no sign of Stabling or the two Aurors who are meant to be with her.

“Sara?” asks Hermione worriedly. She points her wand at the plant and sets it alight.  “Are you alright?  Where are the others?”

“They thought they saw something and went off after it,” Sara mutters from the ground.  Her face is pale, splotched with red spots of anger.  “I tried to follow, tripped and it snagged me.” She waves at the burnt husk of the plant.  “I couldn’t remember how to deal with it.” 

Harry offers her his hand.  Linus stoops to help her too and between the two of them they help her off the ground. 

Sara tries to put her previously tangled foot on the ground and winces.  “Bugger, that hurts!”

“You should take one of the portkeys, head back to Hogwarts,” Hermione suggests, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Sara nods and pulls out a sock.  “Kippers!”

She disappears in a whirl of portkey magic.

Todd frowns as he stares towards the trees ahead.  “’s not right that the others left her here.”

“Let’s keep going,” Harry says.  They progress forward steadily.  They’ve been searching for another twenty minutes when there is another flare of sparks ahead of them.

Harry isn’t surprised when they find a bleeding Stan Stabling and the two young Aurors who went with him fighting off a cloud of pixies.  Godric bounds ahead and tries to bite them out of the air.

Harry raises his wand.  “IMMOBILIS!”

The pixies freeze.

Hermione transfigures a crate from a nearby boulder and they sweep the lot of them into it.

The young Aurors collapse in an exhausted heap.  Stabling sways and faints. 

Todd hurries over to his colleagues while Harry, Linus and Hermione see to Stabling.

“We should take them to the infirmary,” Linus says.  “We’ll also need to get those pixies to the Department to see about their rehoming.”

“You and Todd go ahead with that,” Harry suggests.  “Hermione and I will meet up with Professor Black and his team.  They went to search just to the right of here.”

Hermione and Harry watch as the Aurors apparate out of the forest with Stabling, their young colleagues and the crate of pixies.

Hermione grimaces.  “This is all feeling a little familiar.”

“Deadly plant, flying objects,” Harry grimaces and nods.  He pushes his glasses up his nose.  “So, a troll, a chess game and poison to go?”

“Oh, I hope it’s not another troll,” Hermione says. 

Godric leads them on, sniffing the ground every so often before running forward again.

A shout comes from their right and they hurry through the woodland to help…

They find Sirius and Pettigrew battling with a giant.  The other Auror lies knocked out on the other side of the clearing.

Hermione heads to see to her while Harry joins Sirius’ side. 

“Pettigrew, can you do an over-powered sleep spell?” Sirius snaps as he dodges another swipe from the giant’s massive hand.

“I can do whatever you can!” Pettigrew snarls.

“Then on three all of us together!” orders Harry.  “One, two…” he ducks a hand trying to grab him, “three!”

“DORMUS!”  They yell in unison.

The three spells impact the giant’s forehead together and slam into him with the force of a small cannon.  His head snaps back and…he topples falling backwards and crashing through two large trees taking them to the ground with him.

There is a moment of total silence as they all stare at the felled giant.

Harry takes a deep breath.  “Where’s Locke?”

“He ran off as soon as he saw the giant!” Pettigrew answers, furious.  “Coward!”

Sirius nods, swiping at his brow.  “For a Defence of the Dark Arts Professor, it was a truly disappointing showing.”

“I was disappointing too,” the grumble from the Auror getting to her feet has them all turning towards her.

Hermione has an arm around her as she staggers upwards.  “She’s very bruised and needs to see a Healer.”

“I’m fine!”

“You’re finished here, Helen,” Pettigrew says firmly but kindly.  “You’ve had a massive knock from that beast.”  He sighs.  “I’m going to have to take it the Department for containment.”  He frowns.  “Where are Johnson and Derby?”

Todd and Linus, Harry translates in his head.

“Professor Stabling’s lot got ambushed with pixies,” Hermione replies crisply.  “They left to sort Professor Stabling and your colleagues to an infirmary and to contain the pixies.”

Pettigrew grimaces.

Helen gives a sharp gasp and clutches at her hip.

“Right,” Pettigrew says, “you’ll take the emergency portkey to the infirmary, I’ll apparate out with the big guy.”

Hermione offers one of the portkeys she’s carrying.

Helen sighs and nods for Hermione to step back.  Her face contorts with pain.  “Safety!”

She disappears.

Hermione crosses back over to stand beside Harry. 

Pettigrew looks at the three of them.  “Stay together and send for help if you need it.”

They all nod.

Pettigrew waves his wand at the giant, transfiguring him into a large log.  He places a hand on it.  They’re gone in a massive crack of apparition.

“Sensible,” Hermione says.  “He’d never have been able to apparate with the mass of the giant itself.”

“Transfiguration was always Pettigrew’s best subject,” Sirius notes.  He gestures to the woodland ahead.  “Shall we?”

“We’re thinking there’ll be more traps ahead,” Hermione says as they set off again.

“Of course there are,” Sirius mutters darkly.  “They must have used our absence yesterday to set everything up.”

Harry looks at him sharply.  “You think they planned this?”

“What about Bill and Malfoy’s duel?” Hermione says, frowning.  “They couldn’t have planned that could they?”

Harry sighs.  “All it needs is for a parent to ask one of the kids to set it up.”

“Malfoy’s?” asks Hermione.

“Or someone close to him,” Harry says.  “I’m surprised Bill got himself drawn in though.” 

But then hadn’t he gotten drawn in similarly to a fake duel by Draco because Ron had been gung-ho.  He can imagine Harriet playing Ron’s role in whatever confrontation happened between Bill and Sylvestre.

Sirius looks as though he’s about to answer when they see a flare of orange lights to their right.

They exchange a quick look of concern but they start running hurriedly towards it.  They stop in a weird clearing – it’s more like a widening of the rough trampled path than a true space.

In the centre, James, Lily and Filius are stood around is what appears to be two statues, one of a Hogwarts student and another of an Auror…

Harry swallows.  It’s one of the boys, he realises, and Bertie… 

They hurry to join them.

Harry takes one look at the boy statue close-up and identifies Sylvestre Malfoy.

“The Medusa curse,” Filius says sombrely.  He gestures towards the splintered remains of a tree to their side.  “It was embedded into that tree.”

Harry shivers as he scours the ground.  There are two shattered mirrors, shard of polished glass in amongst the wood.

“You managed to save yourselves with mirrors,” Hermione says, relieved.

“Just barely,” Lily says, rubbing her upper arms as though she’s cold.  “Bertie walked right into it when he rushed to see Malfoy’s statue.”

James grimaces.  “We should take them back.  The potion to counter the curse will be available at Saint Mungo’s.”

“I will take them with the emergency portkey,” Filius says.  He bows a touch to James.  “Thank you for saving me from the curse, James.”

“Anytime, Professor,” James says sincerely.

Filius moves so he is touching both statues, his right hand clutches the portkey.  He closes his eyes.  “Safety.”

They watch him whirl away.

“Onwards together then?” James says.  He frowns. “What happened to your lot?”

They explain as they make their search. 

They’ve fallen silent by the time they come to a wide clearing with a large metal cage in the centre.  They freeze as they take in the wide-eyed scared boy tied up and gagged within it, his bright red hair giving away his identity.  Beyond the cage is a large thorny hedge almost as high as the trees, stretching out to block the way forward.

Lily makes to move forward and James stops her with a hand on her arm. 

“We need to make sure it’s safe or we might end up like Bertie,” James says grimly.  “Sirius, you take the right side and I’ll take the left.

Sirius nods.

They both raise their wands but before they can cast, masked figures emerge from the trees to the far left and right. 

Death Eaters.

One after another until all five are lined up beyond the cage and in front of the hedge.

“Five of them, two missing,” James says in a clipped voice. 

“We should raise a flare,” Lily says, her voice shaking a touch.  “Dumbledore’s party is likely still in the woods and can come and help.”

Before any of them can agree, a frightened cry of an animal in pain rents the air from behind the hedge.

“They’re torturing the foal,” Hermione says, horrified. 

“They’re trying to draw the mother out,” Harry says, realising what Riddle is doing immediately.  “He must be desperate.”

One of the five masked figures shifts impatiently and suddenly shoots a crack of green magic towards Sirius.

Sirius conjures a concrete slab to meet the Killing curse as they dive for cover behind trees.

Sirius looks over at Harry as the wizards start advancing towards them, towards the cage.  “Anyone have a plan?”

Harry grimaces.  “Lily, your priority is to get to the cage.  Use the emergency portkey and get you and Bill out of here.”

Lily nods.

“James, Sirius,” Harry says, drawing both wizards’ attention even as he reaches into his pocket for his broomstick.  “You focus on giving Lily cover and taking out these wizards.  If you can incapacitate them, they’re likely to disappear.”

He resizes his broomstick and turns to Hermione.

She swallows hard and shakes her head.  “You’ll need speed.  You won’t have it if you try and fly both of us over that hedge.”

“She’s right,” James says.

A yellow spell hits a tree by Sirius and cleaves it in two.

Hermione’s soft gaze meets his before she springs forward to hug him tightly.  “You’ll have to go alone, but remember…”

“Friendship, bravery and…” Harry murmurs.

“Love,” Hermione completes.  She kisses him and whispers something in his ear.

James coughs as another spell hits the grass in front of them sending dirt into the air.  “Go, we’ll give you cover.  Everybody get ready and…”

Harry climbs on the broomstick and takes one last look at Hermione…

…and they move.

Harry speeds off, keeping low.  He targets the nearest Death Eater with an exploding charm.  He manages to blow up the wand in the wizard’s hand and they wink out almost immediately in portkey magic like they had at the centaur village.  He ducks a red spell shot his way, and a green, and he yanks back on the broom as he nears the hedge and…

He’s almost vertical and…

Another spell smacks into the hedge by his side and he swerves a little and…

He’s clear and he spins in mid-air before diving down…

The foal is in the centre of the clearing.   A masked figure stands over him.  There is no sign of a seventh wizard, but Harry knows Riddle might be concealed.

Another spell sizzles through the air as the Death Eater below turns to fight him.  He snaps off a spell of his own.

It impacts between them and the foal, driving the masked figure away from it.

He spins around, avoiding the returning fire and dives towards the foal.

The Death Eater stumbles away from the foal as Harry jumps off his broom to land beside the injured creature, wand at the ready.

“Back off!” Harry orders.  “The unicorns are under my protection!”

There is an audible snarl and the Death Eater casts a pale blue pain spell towards him.  He shields.  “ACCIO MASK!”

The mask tears off and reveals…

Sara Wood.

The very person who Hermione had told him not to trust. 

Sara twirls her wand and glares at him.  “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

“I assume the real Sara Wood is dead,” Harry states gruffly.  “You took her place in Hogwarts to spy for Riddle.”

“She’s alive still, but perhaps not for long,” the cruel smile doesn’t belong on Sara’s face.  “Now you have discovered me, I will have to kill you, and if I cannot kill you, she has no need to exist.”

She throws another spell towards him – a cutting spell with no counter.  He shoves a nearby log in its path.

The foal is struggling to its feet, weak with pain.

Sara snarls and sends another curse to make the foal cry.  Harry intercepts it with a counter.  And the next she sends.  And the next.

“Enough!” The command comes from the treeline.

Riddle emerges from the shadows.  He takes his mask off and throws back his hood.  The decay is evident.  The skin is grey and shines with sweat.  His nose is half-gone along with one of his ears.  There are only thin clumps of dark greying hair on his mottled head.

“My Lord,” the witch wearing Sara’s face goes to her knee.

Riddle’s pale blue eyes meet his across the clearing.  “Harry Potter.”

“Tom Riddle,” Harry replies caustically.

He can still hear spell fire beyond the hedge.  He hopes Hermione is safe.

“Yes, I believe I have you to thank for revealing the weak name my mother chose, to the Ministry,” Riddle sneers.  “Soon they will only know me by the name I have chosen, Lord Voldemort!”

“I also told them you made that name up when you were an angsty teenager,” Harry retorts, “nobody’s impressed.”

Riddle bares his teeth as he takes a step towards him.  “You will soon regret coming to this world, boy.  I will kill you first and then I’ll kill your wife!”

“You can try!” Harry says fiercely.  “Your counterpart failed every time.”

“I am not your pathetic version!” Riddle roars. He gestures at not-Sara.  “See to the foal!  I’ll take care of this boy!”

Riddle attacks with a barrage of spells.

Harry defends himself, but as he counters spell after spell, he finds himself driven away from the foal.

The young unicorn cries out in pain as it is hit with a torture curse.

Harry deflects the next spell Riddle sends his way towards the witch, and it causes her to break off the Cruciatus as she dives out of the way.

Riddle sends a conjured snake towards him and Harry darts away, snapping out Sectumsempra to kill it and…

What if…

Things have been different and yet the same, Harry muses.  Traps to find a treasure versus traps to find a unicorn…

The foal screams.

Harry rolls to avoid another spell and leaps…  

He tackles Riddle to the ground and grasps his wrists and…

The smell of burning flesh fills his nose.

Riddle growls as he tries to yank himself away…glaring hatefully into Harry’s intent gaze as he holds on tightly, flesh beginning to smoke under Riddle’s robes and…

The foal screams again.

There is a distant thunder of hooves and…

“LET GO OF HIM!” The witch cries out.  She shoots a spell at Harry and Harry jerks to avoid it, letting of Riddle and…

Harry dives to the ground to avoid another disembowelling spell…

The thunder is closer, vibrating through the floor of the forest…

Riddle brings his wand to bear on Harry and…

The foal cries…

Harry’s breath catches in his throat and…

A unicorn horn pierces through Riddle’s chest.

There is a moment of shocked silence.  It’s as though the world has stopped turning.

Riddle’s face is a picture of stunned disbelief.

“NO!” The witch brings her wand up to kill the unicorn mare who has destroyed the body Riddle occupies.

Harry snaps his own wand up.  “EXPELLIARMUS!”

The wand rips out of the witch’s hand and slaps into Harry’s.

Riddle’s body disintegrates and his soul writhes in the air as a formless black cloud as it screams in anger.  The witch opens her arms and the black cloud of Riddle streams into her and…

They’re gone.

Harry sinks to the ground as the unicorn mare brays her victory and sees to her foal. 

It’s over.

Chapter 14: The Temple of Avalon

Harry takes a deep breath and gets to his feet.  He thinks about his love for Hermione and casts his Patronus.

Prongs stands before him shimmering with magic.

“Go to Hermione,” Harry says.  “Tell her I have the foal and its mother.  I’ll lead them back to the temple to join the others.”

Prongs canters away.

Suddenly, a low part of the hedge starts to burn…

Harry hurries to place himself between the hedge and the unicorns.  He raises his wand and stands ready.

A part of the hedge disappears and…

Harry’s heart pounds in his chest…

James steps through.

Harry bends over double to catch his breath.

James’ gaze sweeps over everything.  “We’re good!”  He steps forward and Sirius steps through the opening.

They walk over, glancing warily at the unicorns.

Harry straightens.  “Hermione?  Lily?”

“Hermione took Bill back with Lily,” James says.  “She said they needed to see if Sara was being kept hostage in the castle somehow since someone had impersonated her in the search.  Lily took a glancing blow which broke her arm, Hermione has some bruises from diving into a bush, but if you check through the family magic, you’ll find that they’re both well.”

Harry remembers with chagrin that he could have checked in on all of them with the family magic.

Sirius nods.  “James managed to blast one of them.  Whoever it is will only have one arm now.”

James shrugs as Harry looks over at him.  “I’ve learned not to take chances.”

“One of them was determined to cut you in ribbons,” Sirius comments.

“Did I thank you for knocking him out yet?” asks James with a grin.

Harry rolls his eyes at their antics.  He can see the beginning, he realises – he can see the seeds of the friendship that would lead them into calling each other brothers.

“We need to get these unicorns back to the temple,” Harry says.  “The mare managed to fatally wound Riddle’s body when I had him distracted, it disintegrated.”

“His soul survived though?” Sirius asks.

“It formed up into this black cloud thing and went into the witch who was helping him,” Harry grimaces with renewed disgust, “the one wearing Sara’s face.”

“It’s likely that she is the anchor then,” James murmurs.  He pushes a hand through his already dishevelled hair. 

Harry nods.  “We’ll have to go on foot to the temple.” 

He reaches for his miniaturised trunk, enlarges it and dives into it for supplies.  He hands both James and Sirius fresh water bottles and refills his own.  They take a few spare potions before he closes the trunk up.  He retrieves his broom, miniaturises it and the trunk.  The latter goes back around his neck, and the former he puts again in his outer robe pocket.

Harry approaches the foal and mare with caution and bows to the mother.  “Will you follow us back to the temple, my friend?”

She tosses her head and snorts.  She sets off, the foal following her.

“I guess she wants to lead,” James says cheerfully.

Sirius looks at Harry.  “We’ll make better time if we can canter with her.  Do you want a ride?”

“I can get back on my broom…”

Sirius shifts.  A huge black stag looks back at Harry and very pointedly turns his head to look at his own back before returning his silver gaze to Harry once more.

“Come on,” James tugs him around Sirius’ body.  He helps give him a boost so that Harry can ride the stag.

Harry grimaces.  It’s not the most comfortable position but he knows Sirius is right.  They’ll make better time with him riding.

James shifts and a wondrous white stag stands next to them. 

They hurry after the unicorns.

It’s not that far to one of the magical doors to the temple’s grounds, Harry realises. 

There was no one single path, no single entrance.  There were doors and paths to the temple left all over the lands once known as Albion if someone knew what to seek.

The unicorns had simply made for the entrance nearest to them.

There was a portal under the Lake near to the merfolk.  Another at Stonehenge hidden in the standing stones.  A plain wooden door in the derelict ruins of an old fort in Wales.  A cave on the Cornish coast.  A fairy hill in Northumberland.

Doors all over because the temple was built with the magic of the Fae and has never existed in the world of humanity.

Harry notes that they’ve started travelling uphill and leans forward to balance his weight better.  They’re making good time, traversing a good distance of the Forest, moving further and further away from Hogwarts.

He estimates that he’s been riding for almost thirty minutes when they weave through a tightly packed section of trees and come out at a beautiful glen bordered by a steep hill with a waterfall running down its grey rocky side and forming a meandering stream. 

Harry figures the water probably runs down to the Black Lake. 

The unicorn mare steps into the gently running water and turns towards the hill, her foal follows her.

They pause and watch as both unicorns walk under the waterfall spray and disappear into the hillside.

Harry slides from Sirius’ back and stands by the stream.

A moment later, the white and black stags are once again in their wizard forms.  They all look apprehensive.

Harry steps into the stream.  Sirius and James follow him as they walk slowly towards the waterfall.

He steels himself for getting drenched and feels Sirius cast a spell to keep them dry a moment before the water is due to hit them.

He walks through the spray and closing his eyes he steps into the rocky side of the hill…

…and out into a peaceful, but wild and overrun garden.

The unicorns are nowhere in sight.

The Temple of Avalon is just ahead of them, a white castle with four towers that reminds Harry of drawings in old storybooks.  His breath catches in his throat.   

James stands beside him as they look up at the castle walls with its old-fashioned turrets ideal for archers.  “Wow.”

“It’s stunning,” Sirius agrees. 

Harry feels the family magic vibrate a little and he knows his family is ahead already in the castle.  Hermione and Lily feel very distant, and the predominant emotion he senses from both is determination.

They head into the castle. 

The castle gate leads them into a small courtyard.  The fountains still work, a soothing tinkling flow of water into deep basins in each quadrant.  They make their way into the great hall at the end of the courtyard.

Charlus, Arcturus and Dorea stand by the thin tall windows talking quietly.  They turn as Harry enters, closely followed by Sirius and James, and their faces break into three different expressions of pleased relief.

Within moments they all find themselves being hugged tightly. 

Harry steps back from Charlus and finds himself tugged into another hug with Dorea.  When she finally lets him go, Arcturus pulls him in for a brief time.

“Where’s Reg?” asks Sirius.

“Your sister went to explore,” Arcturus says sombrely.  “I left her in the Lady’s solar.” He points to the door to the left.  “Through that way and down to the far tower.  She’s in the basement there.”

There is a strange note to his voice and Harry wonders at it.  He sees Sirius do the same because he hesitates.

Sirius finally nods and heads off.

“How did it go?” asks Dorea, her gaze darting to the door as though expecting to see Hermione and Lily.

Harry briefly explains what happened.  He’s just finishing when there is a sound by the courtyard door and they all turn in unison to see Hermione and Lily entering.

Harry immediately crosses to his wife.  He hugs her close and eases back to cup her face in both hands and kiss her gently.

Hermione looks fine except for a bruise and scrape across her right temple.  He places a gentle kiss on the injury.

“You took a bit of a knock,” Harry murmurs.

“I fell on my head,” Hermione says sheepishly.  “I need to learn to dive better.”  She looks over him critically.  “You seem remarkably fine.”

Harry shrugs.  “Riddle did a disappearing act but he doesn’t have a body thanks to being impaled on a unicorn.”

“You sound very gleeful about that,” Hermione says, amused.

“How did you get here so quickly?” asks Harry.

“Your wife brought us through the Room of Requirement,” Lily explains.

Harry steps back from Hermione and warmly hugs Lily.  She looks tired and grim.

“There was a witch wearing Sara’s face torturing the foal,” Harry says bluntly.  “Did you manage to find Sara?”

Hermione shakes her head.  “I don’t think it was Polyjuice like Moody,” she says, “I think it was witchcraft of some kind.”

“Sorcery,” Lily says.  “Filius says there are a few Egyptian practices that might account for it.  He says the Pharoahs used to steal faces from others so they could appear young.”

Harry grimaces.  “I take it you reported it to the Aurors.”

“Moody sent Pettigrew out with another couple of Aurors to search Sara’s home flat,” Hermione says.  “Maybe they’ll be able to track her down.”

Harry thinks it’s more likely that they’ll never find a body.  He feels helpless but there is little he can add to the Auror search. 

“Dumbledore arrived back with Snape just before we left,” Hermione says in a clipped tone. “Apparently they picked up Bill’s dropped tie and it portkeyed them into some kind of locked trap where they had to puzzle their way out.”

“All of the party?” asks Charlus, his eyebrows raised.  “That seems unlikely.”

“The Aurors with them were left behind,” Hermione says. 

Lily nods.  “They got stuck in some kind of quicksand.”

“How are the two students?” asks Dorea.

“Bill’s bruised.  He says he was briefly knocked out and when he came to, Malfoy was gone and he was tied up and locked in the cage,” Hermione says.  “Molly and Arthur were with him when we left.”

“And the Malfoy boy?” asks Charlus.

“Gaius Malfoy was making arrangements to transport Malfoy’s statue home for healing,” Lily says.  “He’s going to buy a potion abroad rather than wait for Snape to create it at Hogwarts.  He basically said he’ll be sending Sylvestre to Durmstrang for the rest of the year.”

“I can’t blame him for that,” Dorea says.  “I might have threatened the same if James had been abducted from the safety of the school during a detention.”

“Stupid thing to give them a detention in Hoggle Forest!” Charlus says.  “We always had detentions in the castle.  Only the Professors went anywhere near the forest, and then it was usually for potion ingredients.”

Dorea nods and pats his arm consolingly.

Harry notices how Arcturus is staring back towards the door where Sirius had gone.  “Is everything alright, Arcturus?”

Arcturus startles as though surprised by Harry realising something is amiss, only for a note of chagrin to ping down their family bond.

Arcturus pinches his nose.  “I fear our want to protect the temple has gotten more complicated.”

“What do you mean?” asks Charlus.

Dorea looks at Arcturus with understanding.  “This is to do with Regina’s discussion with Mab during the ritual, isn’t it, Arcturus?”

Arcturus sighs.  “Follow me.”

They all exchange a concerned glance before hurrying after Arcturus as he strides away, through the door he had directed Sirius towards.

The stone corridor leads to a small room with shelves of books and furniture covered with dustsheets. 

Hermione gasps.  Harry takes her hand and tugs her away.  He has a feeling he’d lose her for days if they stopped.  A quick look behind him reveals James doing the same with Lily.

“Later, dear,” Dorea says to Charlus.

They take the next door and move into a stone corridor.  There is a beautiful mural on the inner wall depicting scenes of magical creatures in between windows out to the courtyard.  To their right, there are occasional doors which likely lead to rooms with hidden treasures.

They ignore all of them as Arcturus continues down the corridor.  He opens the end door which leads to the tower and ushers them into the small hallway.  A stone staircase is hewn along the wall, spiralling upwards and down.

Arcturus leads them down the stairs and they enter a large circular basement room.

Harry’s attention is immediately arrested by the flowing fountain of magic in the centre of the space, a real sword held in the stone statue of a standing Arthur, his stone hands clasping the pommel of the sword as he had done when he had appeared during Harry’s Wizengamot visit.  Gold magic runs rivulets down the stone and disappears into the golden pool of magic in the basin. 

This must be the doorway, Harry realises; the anchor of the in-between and Camelot’s sleep; the magic that will one day return their King.

The family magic swells with worry and Harry’s head snaps away from the sight of Excalibur to the far side of the room.

Sirius and Regina are there, hugging tightly, their eyes closed and heads bowed into one another’s shoulders. 

Harry can feel their bubbling emotions in the family magic and he shields himself tighter against the raging grief in Sirius and the grim determination in Regina.

He shifts his gaze away from the siblings and looks around the room. 

Most of the furnishings still have their dust coverings, but a large white wooden desk sits on the left.  There is a closed door in the same wood beyond it. 

Shelves fill the right wall in a half-arc, filled with books and tomes, scrolls and parchments. 

Arcturus coughs deliberately to get the attention of his grandchildren.

Sirius looks up and blinks.  “Grandfather.”  He glances around and registers them all.  He keeps hold of Regina as they turn to face them, his arm around her back.

Harry can see Regina’s upset in her red eyes and tear-streaked face.

“Arcturus says there’s a complication,” Charlus states briskly.

Sirius nods.  “Reg?”

She straightens in her brother’s hold.  “A Fidelius won’t work.  The temple sits in a magical space where the borders transcend the land.  We won’t be able to set the runes properly.”

Dorea nods and breathes out sharply at the news.  “I thought as much.”

“Me too,” Hermione says with a sigh.  “But the truth is that the only protection the temple has had is gone.  Riddle knows that the centaurs can help him find paths here.”

“It’s a miracle that wizarding kind hasn’t stumbled into the temple through one of the doors left behind before,” Lily says.

Regina swipes at her face and shakes her head.  “During the ritual, I spoke with Mab, she explained the protections.  This is Fae land, neither of the world nor apart from it.  It cannot be hidden by the spell of a wizard, only of the Fae.  Vivien cast the spell to hide the temple from wizarding kind including a kind of notice-me-not on the doors should they come across them.  We were exempted when Merlin cast for us to have the knowledge.”

“You’re descended from Mab,” Lily states, wide-eyed.

“My Grandmother’s maternal line descends from the Fae,” Regina agrees.  “I can cast a new protection but it will take another coven ritual.”  She takes a trembling breath.

“And what about this upsets you so?” asks Dorea gently.

Regina bites her lip.

“The only way to ensure the safety of the temple is to close the doors or to prevent any magical being from finding them,” Hermione reasons out loud.  “Either will take a great deal of power.”

“And it will need an anchor to stay stable, ideally within the temple,” Lily says softly.  “Vivien stayed here until she passed.”

Harry swallows hard as he realises what that means: Regina will stay within the temple, within this land of the Fae.

He can see the grief already lining Arcturus’ and Sirius’ faces.  Regina will not die, but she will be gone from them.

“Mab believes it best to close the doors,” Regina says.  “One will remain open, the one which was always hidden from all magical kind beyond the Fae and their Priestesses.”  She gestures to the white wooden door behind the desk.  “Beyond it is the bottom of Black Lake.”

The Lady of the Lake, Harry muses.  It explains the stories of how Vivien would appear, rising up from under the water.

Hermione clears her throat.  “What about leaving all but two doors?  The door to the Lake and another?”

“It creates a risk of Riddle finding it,” Regina says.  “We cannot take the chance.  Only we know the Lake door now and only I can pass through it.”

“Then we do this,” Sirius says roughly, “but we look for other ways that allow us to visit, or you to leave for periods of time to visit us.”

“Or a different way to protect the temple,” Hermione says firmly.  “This is not the end of it.”

They all add their agreement and Regina nods, but he can tell she’s not confident of their future success.

“We should prepare for the ritual,” Regina says.  “I want to do it at soon in the sun.”

“Won’t it wait a week?” asks Sirius.  “You could come back and say your goodbyes?  You’ll need your things and…”

“I already packed and I have left letters from my friends saying I am going abroad on an adventure and will be out of contact,” Regina says gently, taking his hand in hers.  “I knew before we came what I would need to do.”  She cups her brother’s cheek and wipes away the tear that slides down his face.  “I have always known my destiny is to live beneath the water.”

Sirius pulls her into another embrace and Arcturus moves to join them, his arms encircling both his grandchildren. 

Harry slides an arm around Hermione who swipes tears away from her own face. 

For a long moment, the Blacks simply hold each other.

Finally, Arcturus moves back.  His eyes are bright and shimmer with tears but he straightens his shoulders.  “Let me try something.  Mogby to me!”

A female house elf pops into the room and looks around wild-eyed, her ears waggling furiously.  “Fae-land!” She whispers.

Regina looks as though she’s about to protest, but Arcturus holds up a hand.  “Mogby, I would like to request that you stay here with Regina and attend her.  It is a request only, but know that if you accept, she will hold your bond and become your witch.  You will live here in the land of the Fae with her.”

Mogby looks to Regina who smiles gently.  “Only if you wish Mogby.”

“I wills stay,” Mogby holds out her hand to Regina who grasps it gently.  There is a flash of magic between them.

Harry lets a small sigh of relief escape him.  Regina will have company and companionship.  The house elves.  Their popping magic may also still work regardless of the protection, Harry muses.  It will help them communicate with her if that is so.  They can send parchments back and forth – or mirrors.  Maybe the Mischief Makers enchanted communication mirrors the same way his Marauders had done.

Regina smiles brightly, her eyes still damp.  “Let’s prepare.”

It feels like it takes no time at all for them to learn the ritual, before they all troop back out of the castle and through the gardens into a wild meadow beyond. 

Harry’s eyes widen at the sight of the unicorn herd, peacefully grazing.  There are so many of them.  Overhead, there is a cry of a hawk and he finds one circling in the blue cloudless sky.

Regina leads them into the centre of the meadow where the green grass is spotted with white and yellow daises under their bare feet.

Mogby has already taken their shoes and socks to the Room of Requirement – Regina will hold that door open long enough for them to leave.

Harry takes place in the circle.  Instead of them each holding candles, they all join hands together – nine of them instead of seven as Arcturus and Charlus will be part of the ritual.

“I call upon the ancient magic of Avalon to hear this plea,” Regina begins, “your people call you to service.”

The rustle of the wind through the grass disappears.

“We protect this land,” Regina continues strongly.  “I, Priestess of Avalon, daughter of Mab call upon the ancient magic and our own in this ritual to hide the temple; to hide Avalon; we hide all doors but mine, hide and keep hidden this secret within mine own magic, protect all within the temple and its lands.  I command it as the new Queen of the Fae!”

Harry feels his magic rising to meet the call, it shimmers on his skin. 

Yet…it will not be enough, it will not be enough to do what needs to be done, and…

Suddenly the unicorns move, they race towards them like a whirlwind…

“Stay in the circle!” Regina calls out before any of them can move to counter the unicorns.

Harry watches wild-eyed as the unicorns slow and surround them, pen them in.

And Harry suddenly feels a horn touching his joined hands on either side.  He turns his head and sees a unicorn bowing its head at every joined hand so that their horns are placed on top.  Beyond them, every unicorn touches another – joined together.

Their pure magic races through the circle like a lightning storm and…

Suddenly there is a boom like thunder and…

It is done.

Harry can feel it down to his soul.

The doors are closed.

Regina takes another breath.  “The ancient magic of Avalon has answered our call.  Our friends have answered our call.  Our own magic has answered our call.  We thank magic.  We thank our circle and leave it unbroken.”

There is a rush of warm magic around the circle and it ripples out across the unicorn herd.

Regina breathes in and turns to the large stallion beside her.  “My thanks, Friend.”

The stallion steps away and leads the unicorns away.

Regina looks first to Sirius and then to Arcturus beside her.  She lets go of their hands gently.  She waves her hand behind her and a Hogwarts door appears. 

“This will lead you back to the Room of the Requirement, but we must hurry,” Regina says, smiling sadly.

She steps to the side.

The rest of them carefully untangle their hands although Harry keeps hold of Hermione’s and he sees James keep hold of Lily’s.

Charlus and Dorea go through the door first, hugging Regina on their way.  James and Lily follow.

Hermione and Harry let go of each other’s hand and hug Regina to them together. 

“We’ll work this our end and you do the same here,” Hermione says.  “There has to be another way.”

“Or we’ll make it safe for you to reopen the doors,” Harry says.

“Take care of each other,” Regina says, tearfully.  “Take care of Sirius for me.”

“We will,” they say in unison.

They step away and cast one last look behind them before walking through the open door and into the warmth of the Room of the Requirement.

It’s set up as a simple space – an empty stone room lit with wall sconces either side.  Their shoes are all lined up on the right wall.

Charlus and Dorea are in conjured chairs, tying the laces on their boots.  James and Lily are pulling on their footwear on the floor.

Harry heads over with Hermione to retrieve their shoes.  He’s done pushing his feet into his boots when Arcturus and Sirius step through the door and it immediately disappears behind them.

Arcturus places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. 

Harry moves to comfort them and Hermione follows.  Their four-way hug lasts a while and when they emerge from it, the Potters are already gone from the room along with Lily.

“Come,” Arcturus says gruffly.  “We shall need to armour ourselves for questions and discussions.”

They leave the room.

“You should both head to the infirmary to get checked out from your battles,” Arcturus says, waving a hand between Sirius and Harry.  “I have to return home and ensure Regina’s letters are sent and that everything is taken care of so as to not draw attention.”

Sirius nods.  “Grandfather.”

“We will prevail, Sirius,” Arcturus says, “and we will be with her again one day, I am certain of it.”

Sirius nods briskly.

Hermione takes Harry’s hand and he squeezes it comfortingly.

Arcturus walks away towards the main staircase and the front entrance.  Harry nudges Sirius and the three of them walk to the infirmary.

Their examination is brief.

Ariana is apparently with Bertie’s statue, and it is Poppy who sees to them.  She declares them bruised and magically spent.  She orders rest and gives them salve before sending them on their way.

They step out of the main doors and almost bump into Remus Lupin.

“Baron Blackthorn, Lord and Lady Peverell,” he stutters.  “My apologies.”

“Lupin,” Sirius nods and darts away before anything more can be said.

“It’s good to see you back from abroad,” Harry says diplomatically to ease the awkwardness of the moment.  “James will be pleased to see you.”

Remus flushes red.  “Yes, I…I’ll be pleased to see him too.”  His fingers play nervously with his frayed tie. 

“Are you here to see Bertie?” asks Hermione politely.

“I am,” Remus says hurriedly.  “Peter contacted me and told me what had happened.  A Medusa curse?”

Hermione nods.  “I’m certain he’ll be back to normal soon.  The Headmaster has asked Severus to make the counter-potion.”

Remus flinches a touch.  “Right, Severus.”

“Well, we won’t keep you,” Harry says, desperate to escape the conversation.  He nods and offers Hermione his arm.

She takes it and with a nod of her own at Remus, they walk away from the werewolf.

A quick look over his shoulder confirms that he went into the infirmary as soon as they left him.

They’re quiet on the way back to their quarters, tired and heartsore from Regina’s fate.  It feels unfair.

The whole day feels like a dream.

The communal quarters are empty and they head to their own suite.  A hot shower and some food, Harry thinks.  He has no doubt that they’ll be called upon soon enough to debrief with the Council.

He’s almost right.

Just after dinner a house elf pops by and informs them that there is an impromptu staff meeting.

Sirius and Lily are waiting for them by the door and the four of them walk wearily to the staff room.

Harry takes his seat with subdued greetings to the others.  The injured Stabling is missing along with Sara.  Glass sits huddled in a thick woollen shawl.  Locke sits, arms folded, and with a belligerent expression on his face.  Filius, Pomona, Horace, and Minerva all wear sombre expressions. Wilde is back from his own family business and sits quietly.  Argus Filch lurks at the back wall along with Severus.

Dumbledore sweeps in with a man following in his wake.

Harry looks over the newcomer.  Harry doesn’t know who he is, but there is something familiar about him, something in the line of his jaw and the shape of his nose.  His black hair is trimmed very short to his head, and he is clean shaven. 

“Good, we’re all here,” Dumbledore says briskly.  He stands at the head of the table.  “Firstly, thank you to all of you for your efforts today in either keeping the castle and students safe, or in searching for our missing students.”

Harry rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“The boys were abducted by a new group of dark wizards, hoping to distract the Aurors from a crime,” Dumbledore explains.  “We recovered both boys who were thankfully not harmed permanently or gravely.  Still, Mister Malfoy has been removed from the school by his father and will no longer attend. Mister Weasley has been treated and is back in Gryffindor tower.”

Hermione sighs beside him.

“During the search, it was revealed that a witch has been impersonating Sara Wood,” Dumbledore presses his lips together.  “Based on the evidence the Aurors uncovered, it would appear that she was replaced before she arrived here.  I have turned over all the belongings she had in her quarters to the Aurors.”

Harry exchanges a quick look with Hermione.  Neither of them is surprised given their own knowledge, but they can see a ripple of startled faces around the table in some of the other Professors.

“Fortunately, my nephew has recently arrived back from his travels abroad and will be able to step into the position of the Astronomy Professor,” Dumbledore continues.  “Let me introduce you to him: Aurelius Dumbledore.”

The man stands and bows his head.  He looks up with dark eyes to survey them all as they utter hasty greetings and welcomes.

“Thank you,” Aurelius says with a smile that has the hair on the back of Harry’s neck rising.  “I look forward to getting to know you all.”  His gaze meets Harry’s briefly before he sits back down.

There is little more to the staff meeting.  Dumbledore announces that the Hoggle Forest is now forbidden to students and detentions will only be held in the castle.

It feels a little like shutting the door once the horse has bolted and Harry pays little attention to it.

He leaves with the others as they all filter back to their personal quarters.  Sirius excuses him, still heart-torn from earlier events and Lily says a quiet goodnight.

Hermione and Harry head into their own bedroom without discussion.

Harry sits on the end of the bed.  Hermione sits beside him and rests her head on his shoulder as their hands tangle together.

“Had you ever heard of Dumbledore having a nephew before?” asks Harry.

Hermione hums.  “There was an allusion to it in one of Rita’s interviews about her biography of Dumbledore back on our world.  She said that there were rumours of Aberforth having an illegitimate child that he gave up, only the child ended up in the service of Grindelwald.”

“I think he’s trouble,” Harry admits.

“Me too,” Hermione agrees.  She sighs.  “Today doesn’t feel like a win, does it?”

Harry shakes his head.  He drops a kiss on the top of her head and she shifts to look at him.

“Riddle’s a wraith, the unicorns are safe,” Harry says.  “We have time to figure out how to defeat him.”

“Time to figure out how to defeat this Evil we’re meant to battle,” Hermione adds.  “Time to figure out how we can make sure Regina isn’t trapped in the temple for the rest of her life.”

Harry kisses her and for a long moment they lose themselves to feeling their love and affection, to their friendship, to knowing they’ve both made it through alive.

Hermione eases back and rests her head back on his shoulder.  Harry breathes in the scent of her, lets her weight against him comfort him.

Soon, Harry thinks, they’ll go to bed and sleep.  Tomorrow, they’ll get up and be teachers.  They’ll comfort Sirius.  They’ll plan their next step in fighting Riddle, and fighting Evil. 

But for this moment, Harry muses wearily, for this night he’ll be with Hermione and hold her; they’ll be together and simply be.

fin.

End note: Please don’t forget to like and comment if you have enjoyed A Jump to the Left! Unfortunately life happened and my anticipated publication of Another Dimension in August/September this year will not happen, I’m aiming for end of 2025 currently. You can find the first chapter here available for subscribers only Another Dimension, Chapter 1