Archive of Our Own

June 24, 1994

London, England

Trisha Woodson rolled her eyes as the three other second shift Aurors laughed at a rather inappropriate joke in the cubical next to her. She missed the day shift where she had Tonks to keep her company, but for the next three months she was stuck on this second shift because she had been drafted to cover for Jackie while she was on maternity leave. Being one of the newest Aurors, she had little choice in this assignment. She was already looking forward to having seniority in ten years or so.

Turning when a soft knock came on the wooden edge of the cubicle support, she was surprised to see Garret Emeralds and Dana Abbott from Magical Reversal. "You available for a field mission or are you stuck here to babysit the other idiots, Woodson?"

Emeralds was a middle-aged man still in good shape and with a handsomely rugged face. She like that he didn’t like the other morons in the next cubicle. Her only issue was that he was well more than a decade older that her, otherwise she might ask him out for a drink. "They are old enough to babysit themselves. I’m just doing some paperwork. What do you need?"

"Someone to deal with some local bobbies, or whatever the Muggles call them. We have a report of a disturbance in a place called Little Hangleton," Emeralds told her.

She looked towards the still laughing trio. "If it gets me out of here," she said.

Grabbing her burgundy leather duelling robes, she followed the others towards the portkey point. "Any idea what is going on?"

"Just a report of a large magical outburst. Mulciber from Magical Creatures and Lockwood from our department went out there about fifteen minutes ago and called for more back up. That's all we know," he said.

She snorted. Mulciber was an idiot that would sooner use his axe to solve an issue than his wand. Lockwood was good though. If he needed backup, then it probably wasn't anything easy to deal with. She took the rope when it was offered. With a simple tap of Emerald's wand, she was grabbed by a hook behind her navel. Less than a moment later, she was stepping out of the whirling whirlwind onto a street.

She had to duck as someone screamed. She watched as a woman floated by, her arms flailing about like she was trying to swim or grab onto anything she could. The lights of several Muggle police cars were flashing around her. She stood up to see little blue blurs in the pools of light from the streetlamps. A man in a black uniform and white and yellow vest was frantically swiping away the blurs that were buzzing around.

"Bloody fuck!” the man exclaimed, slapping his neck. "What the…"

He started to float up.

Her wand came out. "What is going on?" she asked.

Lockwood was holding several ropes tied to stunned people floating in the air. "A Merlin be damned billywig infestation," he told her. "I already have a dozen Muggles stung by the bloody things. Mulciber is floating off somewhere that way." He pointed north and then he pointed back south. "And there is a huge crater and three bodies about a mile that way. You better call up the whole office. Ah, shite."

Lockwood slapped his neck. He came away with a blue beetle in his hand. "Damn it. You better cast sticking charms to your shoes so you don't float away. That is the third bite."

The man staggered a little but was still standing.

Trisha was in for one of the weirdest nights of her short three years as an Auror.

-oOo-

About an hour earlier…

Hogwarts, Scotland.

Harry stopped at the intersection of three paths. He was breathing heavily after having to run from one of Hagrid's 'cute little’ skrewts. As he panted for breath, looking over his shoulder to make sure the thing wasn't following him, he cursed under his breath, "I swear… I will… drown… the next thing… Hagrid calls cute."

Something rustled down the path to his right. He spun about, bringing his wand up.

In the darkness he couldn't see anything but was weary to light his wand at the same time. The last time he did that, a swarm of billywigs had attacked him. He was just lucky that they didn't like fire. The smell of smoke still lingered on him from the section he had to burn. The maze had not been happy with him for that. He was just lucky that he knew the dragon breath spell and had the stamina he did to keep running.

The last two years had been quite a learning experience for Harry.

Hermione had slipped telling him about the time turner soon after she had gotten it. It hadn’t taken him long to convince her that he needed to get better after what happened with Voldemort the year before. She had been even more willing when he had dropped Divination and took on Ancient Runes with her. Since then they had both been using it as much as possible. After his name had come out of the cup, they had worked even harder.

She had figured that by last weekend, they had spent more than a year in time loops. Harry would have spent more, but they were only allowed to go back a maximum of twelve hours a day before they would risk damaging their cores. McGonagall had told her this was because the time turner took you out of your normal phasing, which prevented your core from normally recovering while using magic. Only sleeping in normal time would refresh you. After almost burning themselves out by Christmas, they had cut their use down to six days a week to give themselves one day of downtime. Because of this, they had been able to master just about every spell through sixth year, most of seventh and some select others. He knew he was still missing a lot of the theory, but being able to master the spells meant the theory should come easily with time.

It also meant that he was now a month shy of sixteen as they aged almost a year in the time loops, and Hermione was pushing closer to seventeen. It was a distinction that mattered as that meant he now had a magical reserve that was large enough to rival anyone graduating from Hogwarts, and he was fitter now after Hermione had gotten him to confess about his childhood and get him some potions.

It was that magical and physical reserve that had him still going after what he had faced so far.

Acromantula. Skrewts. Billywigs. Another bloody Cerberus. At least the horned serpents had been nice and given him directions towards the cup. Then there had been that duel with Krum after the Bulgarian had tortured Delacour.

He was feeling tired but knew that the night wasn't over yet.

Hearing the rustling of the hedges, he looked up. Harry made out a dark shape in the night. It had a large body with a huge bulbous back end and was supported by eight thick legs. It was moving fast, straddling the hedges.

"Oh, shite!"

It started to excitedly click its half-meter long mandibles. Harry took off in the opposite direction. The huge acromantula gave chase. It dropped down onto the path to move quicker as its legs weren't so widely spread.

Harry jabbed his wand over his shoulder. White piercing hexes wildly shot out behind him. The spider let out an angry hiss. He would burn the thing, but knew the dragon breath spell would sap his strength. Harry kept jabbing his wand as he turned a corner. Ahead of him, a blue glow was clearly visible. The Triwizard cup was now a few hundred feet away.

He didn't let up on his mad dash, hoping that if he reached the cup, he would be safe.

As he ran pell-mell past another opening, a figure suddenly jumped out of the night, running like Harry.

They bounced off each other. "Don't stop!" Diggory yelled as he stumbled.

The acromantula put on a burst of speed as they just about tripped over each other. "I don't want to be dinner," Harry yelled back, somehow getting that out even as his lungs burned for air.

Diggory looked over his shoulder. "Bloody hell!" he put on the same burst of speed Harry did.

An angry buzz followed Diggory.

"Billywigs?" Harry asked.

"They are blue and bloody fast," Diggory yelled.

The last thing Harry wanted was to get stung by one of those blighters and start floating. That was a sure way to become the giant spider's dinner. They ran as fast as they could into the circular clearing around the cup. The acromantula gave out a pained scream.

"Grab it!" Harry yelled to Diggory.

They both extended a hand to grab the cup. Suddenly, something was trying to grab at Harry's cloak. He stumbled, tripped, and then took down Diggory. They rolled into the plinth that the cup was on. It teetered, threatening to fall on them. The acromantula hissed and flailed as it floated over them. It was being swarmed by the little blue bugs as it lifted off the ground.

"What the…?"

Harry didn't have time to think. He didn't want to join the giant spider. Seeing the cup had fallen to the ground when they had hit the plinth, he pointed his wand at it. "Vortexus Attractum!"

A whirlwind took up. Grass, dirt and anything flying was suddenly moving toward the open mouth of the cup as a miniature tornado formed. Harry figured he could trap the billywigs in there and then cap it or freeze them.

"What are you doing!" Diggory yelled.

"Stopping them," Harry yelled back.

The acromantula was slowly drifting back down as the wind pulled at its flailing body, but more importantly, all the billywigs were being pulled into the vortex. Harry had to sink his fingers into the ground as the wind threatened to pull him in. Diggory shielded his head with his hands, laying as flat as he could on the ground.

Harry cut the spell when it looked like all the billywigs had been pulled into the ball of air in the cup. He also didn't want the acromantula getting any closer. He stopped channelling his magic and was in the middle of casting a freezing charm when the night suddenly went dark again.

The acromantula flew only a few feet over them before it careened into a hedge wall. It frantically grabbed at the hedge. Three of its front legs managed to hold it down as the back side tried to float away.

"Where did the cup go?" Diggory asked. He lit his wand to look for it.

"Bloody hell if I know. Put that thing out!" Harry scolded.

"We need to get to the cup. Shite," Diggory spat out as he slapped his neck. "One of the blighters got me."

The Hufflepuff started to float up.

"Stupid…" Harry flicked and then jabbed his wand. A rope shot out and wrapped around Diggory's foot. "Send up sparks."

"I can't lose! My dad," Diggory said.

"Then what do you want to do? There isn't any cup anymore," Harry hotly questioned.

Diggory looked around the clearing. "I'm not sending up sparks."

"Fine," Harry huffed. He pointed his wand into the air. Red sparks flew high over the clearing.

"What are you doing, Potter?"

"If there isn't a cup, then I'm done," Harry told him.

Diggory looked at him like he had a hole in his head. "You are just giving up?"

"How many times do I have to say I didn't want to do this, but the damned contract said you had to give your best effort? I made it to the cup. It's no longer here. I'm tired. I'm sore. I was nearly mauled by a Cerberus, roasted by a Blast-ended Skrewt and eaten by acromantulas. What more effort do you want?" Harry angrily snapped.

Diggory, floating about ten feet up and dangling from the rope in Harry's hand, finally dipped his head. "Some game, huh?"

Harry snorted. "Some game."

They grew silent as he waited for someone to come get him. Diggory looked around as he could see over the top of the hedge. "Isn't there supposed to be people patrolling up here?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"It's been a few minutes since you sent off the sparks. I don’t see anyone. Where are they?"

Harry closed his eyes, tipped his head up towards the night sky and silently swore at his luck. He shot off red sparks once again, and they waited in silence. Harry had the perverse thought that he had always wanted a balloon when little, but now that he was holding a floating Cedric like he was a balloon, he wasn't that keen to have one anymore.

Off to the side, the acromantula was still struggling to hold onto the hedge as the billywig poison did its thing and tried to float the elephant sized predator to the moon.

-oOo-

Not long before the portkey activates…

Little Hangleton, England

Many years ago, there was a young boy named Peter Pettigrew. He came from a relatively unknown pureblood family with a father that worked as a clerk in a warehouse for the Greengrass family and a mother that was a seamstress for Miss Pinkerton, the previous owners of what would become Gladrags.

The house he grew up in wasn't poor, but it wasn't rich either. He always had new clothes, even if his mother made them. He always had food, even if the bread was sometimes a day old. He had gone to Hogwarts instead of one of the day schools that were meant more for the average labourers like his parents.

Peter had no idea the sacrifices his parents made for him so that he could go to Hogwarts and climb up the social ladder of Britain. They never told him this, nor did they ever force him to move up. They just encouraged him and gave him the best they could. That best paled in comparison to what he saw of most of the richer side of British society when he went to Diagon Alley, and even more so at Hogwarts.

Most everyone that went had the highest quality robes. Of course, many of them were made by his mother, but Peter didn't want his made by his mother. It seemed indecent.

Most everyone also had money for Hogsmeade weekends, the highest quality inks, quills, parchments, new books and trunks without dents, dings or scratches.

He also noticed how much smarter most people were over him. It didn't matter that the boys he had latched onto offered him tutoring and help that most would have been jealous of, he just saw them being smarter, so didn't try to do any better knowing he never could.

All this jealousy led him to listened to honeyed words spoken to him one drunken night not long before he graduated from Hogwarts. A few months later, he was adorned with the mark after finally getting something that Sirius Black had never had even though he knew his friend wanted it: Marlene McKinnon.

She had lasted three days before being put down, but during that time, Peter had earned his mark. He had also learned many pleasures he hadn’t before.

He was heady with the power it gave him and the promised future his Lord would bestow on him. All he had to do was give up his best friends to reach his ultimate goal. It was something the power hungry and jealous young man had done three times. Somehow the Potters had escaped twice, which Peter had been punished for. Only after he had placed the anti-apparition and anti-portkey ward stones around the cottage was his Lord finally able to kill them.

It should have been Peters ultimate show of loyalty and gotten him the power and wealth he had craved for years.

Then the little brat had ruined everything.

Tonight, he would get his revenge and get part of the rewards owed him from his Lord.

It was the only reason he was listening to the whinging baby-thing wrapped in the coils of the giant snake as he moved the giant stone cauldron into place.

"Hurry, Wormtail. The boy will be here soon," the baby-thing ordered in its high-pitched voice.

How he loathed that name. "Yes, my Lord."

Once it was in place, he filled it with water from a nearby well, lit the fire, then went to get the rest of the ingredients. The water had to come to a full boil before he could add anything. It should take him about ten minutes to stir the prepared ingredients, then it had to simmer for another fifteen minutes. After that, it was to be removed from the fire and sit for at least another fifteen minutes, but less than two hours, before he could start the ritual and add the final four ingredients.

Peter had just added the unicorn placenta when there was a crack nearby.

He spun, his wand coming out.

"Bloody fucking bint…" a gruff sounding man said as he fell to the ground. He was frantically trying to get a cloak off, which was smoking and disintegrating.

"Is that you, Barty?" Peter questioned.

"Of course it is, you stupid wanker. Bloody fuck!" Alastor Moody cursed.

"What is Barty doing here!" Babymort demanded. “He is supposed to be at Hogwarts.”

Barty, as Moody, managed to get off the half-disintegrated cloak and then undid the peg leg, which was almost gone too. The man flopped onto the ground. "I'm sorry, master. The Granger bint figured it out when they took Krum out of the maze and found the coin you gave me to have him portkey away."

"You fool! All this will be for naught!" Babymort cursed.

If his master knew what Peter thought of him at times…

"I was able to trap the maze. It will take them hours to bring down the wards," Barty answered. "The only way to get out now it to take the cup or walk out."

"You are still a fool! Wormtail, lift me up."

"My Lord, I have to complete the potion," Wormtail said.

By now, the potion was starting to emit a rotten meat smell. While arguing and with his back turned, Peter didn't see the small blue bug fly out of the pocket of the still smoking coat. It was attracted to the smell and buzzed to the lip of the cauldron, which was starting to come to a roiling bubble, instead of a low simmer. It was also turning green, instead of the light pink it should be.

Landing on the lip, a bursting bubble shot a stream of the half-finish potion onto the little insect. It emitted a shriek of pain before it fell into the boiling brew.

The baby-thing made a really nasty growling sound. "Finish the potion, then I will take out my anger on Barty."

"Yes, my Lord," Peter said.

He turned back to the pink liquid, though it was a much darker pink than it should have been. In the poor light of the torches, and with his poor brewing skills, Peter didn't notice.

Barty was still writhing on the ground as the baby-thing held its wand on the man when the blue glowing Triwizard Trophy fell out of nowhere. The baby-thing stopped its spell, panting from the exertion. "Start the fire and get the boy," it ordered.

Peter shot a flame at the wood. He hadn't noticed that during the time it sat, instead of being a pearly liquid, it was now more a gelatinous grey goo. He turned to the cup to stun Potter, instead he stopped as there was an angry buzzing coming from the cup.

"What is this?" Babymort asked.

The concoction in the cauldron didn't like the heat though. As a bubble of gas rose up and made a large dome in the gelatinous goo, Peter took a step back as an angry cloud of blue bugs swarmed around the cup. "Barty, what did you do?"

The man, now starting to turn back, just groaned.

"Nagini!"

The large bubble in the cauldron chose that moment to pop. A grey cloud of very poisonous, very explosive gas roiled out. The snake moved to them as the open flames met the gas. The fireball that lit up the graveyard was clearly seen from the town centre and soon had many phones calling the local constabulary

It also propelled a rather riled cloud of blue bugs racing away from the flames and into the sleepy hamlet...

-oOo-

About the time Aroura Woodson portkeyed to Little Hangleton…

Hogwarts, Scotland

"I thought you killed the thing!" Cedric yelled as Harry was forced to use a sticking charm on the rope keeping Cedric from floating way. He stuck it to a branch in the hedge just before he dove out of the way as the monstrous skrewt rocketed past him. Its claws reached for Cedric, who screamed like a girl, but was high enough to avoid the claws.

Harry rolled onto his back. "DEPULSO MAXIMA!" he yelled, hoping it would work. The damned things were near impregnable to all spells. The banishing curse did the job though, and his inspired used of modifying it, saw the white flash hit the skrewt as the jet of fire was stopping. Instead of falling to the ground, the grey monstrosity continued its flight into a hedge, then through it. It screeched and the hedge made an eerie windblown groan, before it suddenly came alive.

"That did it this time, Potter," Cedric yelled from above him.

"Bloody fuck!” He had just pissed the maze off again.

“What are you doing just launching it away like that?”

“I don't see you helping at all!" Harry called back up. Cedric had finally found his courage again and was casting a few spells to keep the thing on its back as the hedge shot out vines. The hedged began to whip around like a tornado was ripping through it. The skrewt tried to fight the angry plants but was losing and gave out a bone rattling death scream as the hedges tried to pull it apart.

"You can get us out of here at any time!" Cedric yelled down.

"Next time you are the one running!" Harry yelled back, undoing the sticking charm and running away from the battle going on behind them.

"Right. No. Right!" Cedric called out.

"There are vines all over that path," Harry called back as he went left at the next junction.

"This is taking us away from the exit!"

"You want to fight that hedge?"

Cedric didn't respond. The death screams of the skrewt were growing fainter, but it was still there. Cedric tried to look around for the next way out. "Left, and then right. It should be a straight shot from there if the maze doesn't shift again."

"Bloody dick! Did you have to say that?" Harry muttered. With his luck they were now running into a dead end.

"What?" Cedric yelled down.

"Nothing dear!"

"There is something wrong with you, Potter," Cedric called back. "Bloody fuck! A sphinx!"

Harry skidded to a halt. He was panting. He had already dealt with her once tonight. "Can we go back?"

Cedric took a moment to spin around as he had nothing to grab onto. "The maze changed."

"Of course it did," Harry said to himself. He then called up, "Any other way?"

Cedric did a strange cartwheel with his arms to spin around. "Bloody hell. That changed too. We now have to go…"

"Don't say it! Tell me when we get there," Harry yelled up to him. He didn't need the stupid Hufflepuff cursing their luck again. When he stepped out into the clearing with the sphinx, she rose a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.

"Not the direction I expect you from, champion," she said, laying on the platform she had been on earlier.

"I don't suppose you'll just let us through since we are trying to get out not in?" Harry asked her.

She gave him a smile that unsettled him. "My remit is to not let anyone pass through without answering a riddle."

"Harry, I think the hedge is angry," Cedric said. The wind and growling hedges was getting closer.

Harry looked up and Cedric was looking behind them. "What do you mean?"

"I think it killed the skrewt and is after us! The maze is changing to let that wind thing through.”

Harry gave out a half-crazed laugh. "Listen, lady. If you don't let us through, that thing will get us all and then we will all be fucked," Harry said to the sphinx.

She gave out a small laugh. "I don't think I've been called a lady in many years." She looked over his shoulder as the angry howl of the wind could now be heard. She looked unsettled. "I must follow my remit. When does one plus one equal three?"

"One plus one can't equal three," Cedric said.

"Shut up," Harry yelled at the boy. "If you have one single pack of twinkies plus one double pack of twinkies," Harry sarcastically said, expecting they would soon die.

The sphinx blinked at him. "Not what I was thinking, but it is a solution."

"Great. You better get out of here too," Harry said, taking off at a sprint as the howling wind was getting louder.

"Right!" Cedric called out.

Harry slipped on the dew gathering grass. He fell and rolled over. Cedric gave out a yell as the rope slipped for Harry's hand. Harry rolled over and managed to grab the rope before the last of it was out of his reach. Scrambling to his feet, Harry took off.

"LEFT! RIGHT! STRAIGHT! GO FASTER!"

Harry didn't have the breath to say anything back as he pushed himself as fast as he could go. The howling wind was turning into a roaring hurricane.

"RIGHT!"

Harry turned the corner. At the end of the passage, he could see the brightly lit area before the stands. They were filled with spectators that looked bored. He put on an extra burst of speed, his lungs feeling ready to burst and his legs starting to feel like lead.

The hedges were starting to undulate as the wind and whatever was controlling the hedges was nipping on his heels. He was just about there. Someone noticed him and people in the crowd started to get up and point.

Harry didn't care. He saw the edge of the maze. He was within feet of it when his feet were pulled out from below him. He was suddenly flying through the air. Cedric screamed as he started to float away as Harry let go of the rope. He rolled and stopped just as his body fell into the flood of light before the stands.

People started to scream as the thing in the hedge crashed into some invisible barrier that kept everything in it from attacking the spectators. He stopped by flopping onto his back. The confusion of why two champions would exit this way was lost when a patronus flew up to the podium with ministry representatives on it. Minister Fudge had made sure the sonorous charms were working earlier so he could congratulate the champions when the ghost white patronus spoke.

"Director Bones. Emergency in Little Hangleton. A swarm of billywigs is about to blow the Statute of Secrecy wide open and Petter Pettigrew and Bartemius Crouch Junior were just captured," it said.

The whole stadium, press core of three countries and everyone listening to the Wizarding Wireless broadcast were suddenly made aware of things that others wished had been kept secret.

Harry didn't really care. He was wheezing at he tried to catch his breath while Cedric was yelling, "HELP!" as he drifted further away.

-oOo-

A few hours later…

Little Hangleton, England

A person in grey robes was walking towards the centre of the destroyed graveyard for the third time. The three other Unspeakables with them were still gathering evidence and sweeping the area for anymore anomalies before they fixed the damage.

As they looked around, something crunched under their boot. Crouching down, they poked a finger through the dirt before finding the husk of a now dull blue beetle. Rolling it over, it clearly had been a billywig but was now just an empty carapace. Swishing their wand over it, it was clear the bug had been used in the potion.

Why it had been added to the potion was a complete mystery, but there was little doubt this it is what caused the explosion. Any unicorn parts would have had a disastrous reaction with billywig poison.

There was the soft shuffling of feet not far behind them.

"You know you are contaminating my investigation?" the figure asked.

The woman snorted. "I think that is what I usually tell you."

Conjuring a glass vial, the billywig carcass was levitated into the vial, then they put a stopper on the top. Standing up, the figure pulled back their hood. One of the advantages of being the boss was that you didn't always need to follow department protocol, especially if you were the only figure head of the department.

"What can I do for you, Amelia?"

"You can tell me what the bloody hell happened, Croaker," she said.

"I heard you were at the third task. Perhaps you can tell me?"

She took out a notebook and put on her monocle. "A Hermione Granger made two Aurors aware of a suspicion of an impostor about 20:40 this evening. They didn't believe her and continued their patrol. Granger, Professors Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick confronted the man about 20:46. He managed to pull away everyone patrolling the maze and then activate wards that no one knew about. McGonagall, Flitwick and Granger engaged the suspect. There is evidence the suspect was injured as well before taking an unregistered portkey past the wards. As part of the distraction, something disturbed an unknown acromantula nest in the Forbidden forest. Groundskeeper Rubeus Hagrid was slightly injured trying to keep a troop of acromantula from storming the maze. From what we can piece together from Diggory and Potter, they must have reached the cup about 21:20. They got into a fight with an acromantula and a swarm of billywigs. Potter used the Triwizard Cup to trap the billywigs. Once one of them touched the cup, it portkeyed away. It then took them until 21:59 to get back out of the maze."

She flipped a page over in her notebook. "The fight against the suspect injured Granger, McGonagall and Flitwick, all of whom required hospitalization. Miss Granger had been struck by a stray stunner from McGonagall, which probably saved her life. She woke about 21:58, then ran off to notify the Aurors after making sure McGonagall and Flitwick wouldn't die.

By then, Auror Woodson had sent out a general distress call and Scrimgeour notified me by patronus of a major event. I've been dealing with the fallout since 22:05," she finished her summary to Croaker. "What the bloody hell happened here?"

The man grinned. He held up the empty carapace in the vial. "Have you ever seen what happens when billywig poison is boiled with unicorn parts?"

Amelia blinked. She then looked at the crater, the giant snake that had been shredded to ribbons, the spots where someone had obviously bled out and the destruction of the gravestones within fifty feet of the crater. "Are you telling me they were making a potion?"

Croaker shrugged. "Looks that way. Though, I’m not sure they meant to add this beauty. I was wondering how the billywigs got here, and you explained it. I think the fireball from the potion mishap chased the other billywigs into the town. It might take a few days to weeks to determine what was going on here.”

"I see," she said. "And what about my prisoners? I was told you removed them from the protective guard they were under at Saint Mungo's?"

"Ah, yes. It is interesting when three dead men suddenly come back to life," he said.

"Three? I was only aware of Pettigrew and Crouch."

"Crouch Junior, to be precise, Pettigrew, who is a rat animagus, and a not so dead dark lord in a homunculus," Croaker said, enjoying the incredulous look Amelia gave him.

“What dark lord?”

“You-Know-Who,” he said flat panned. Her reaction didn’t disappoint.

"But he's dead," she faintly said, looking rather pale.

"We had assumed so as well, but it would appear not." Croaker indicated the snake that was finally being levitated into a trunk. "This is a state secret that not even the minister is to know about."

She pursed her lips. "Dare I ask?"

"You can dare. I will have to kill you if you demand answers," he said in a droll tone, but with an edge that left little doubt of his intentions.

She just gave him a curt nod. "Let me know when you are done with my prisoners. This is going to open up a can of worms."

"More than you can know, Amelia. I would put out the word that Lord Sirius Black is probably innocent. I would hate to have to be responsible for answering to the heir why the current lord was assassinated by the ministry if the dementors get him," Croaker said.

"Merlin on a mushroom!" she yelled, obviously not connecting that dot yet. "You are serious he is Lord Black?"

"Amelia, I have known since Black was sent to Azkaban that he never got a trial or any veritaserum questioning. I would ask Fudge and Dumbledore about that," Croaker said. He loved sowing chaos and the angry look in her eyes meant chaos was coming.

"Director Bones!" an Auror yelled out from the edge of the containment wards that Croaker and his team had set up. Only the head of the DMLE and Head Auror were allowed past them.

Amelia gave him a look. "You owe me a case of scotch after I clean up this mess."

He just grinned. "I'm sure I will."

She gave him a nasty glare before walking away. He heard the muttering of her cursing him under her breath, probably knowing that wasn’t the only revelation that the Unspeakables would drop on her department because of tonight.

For now, though, he had a larger issue to resolve. Watching as the trunk was turned into a portkey and then disappear, he knew that tonight was just the start of what was probably going to be a long few days for him and his team. Magic like this always meant more overtime than he wanted.

He lifted his hood again. "Agent Tinkerbell. Do you have everything?"

The nearest grey cloak turned towards him. "You call be that again and I don't care if you are my boss."

He grinned under the hood that no one could see under. "Are you done?"

"Yes."

He nodded, then turned to the mess around them. The other three grey hooded figures did the same. A fanciful conduction of wand movements returned the graveyard mostly back to normal within a few minutes. They then walked over to retrieve the portable ward stones that had cordoned of the area. He was glad he didn't have to deal with the clean-up of the town. He had seen a local Muggle news crew with a satellite dish. He was interested to see what story the Obliviators and Magical Reversal squad devised to explain this one. He might need to contact the people he knew in MI5 to help.

He made sure that all his agents knew about the Muggle world. He only wished the rest of the ministry and magical world were as cautious and knowledgeable.

-oOo-

Part II

-oOo-

June 25, 1994

Hogwarts, Scotland

A head of bushy hair was on the pillow of the hospital bed. The black hair boy that was actually sleeping in the bed had turned and had his nose just about buried into the girl's hair. He was still under the effects of the sleeping potion while she had snuck out of her own bed to sit next to him all night.

Her left arm was wrapped up from the burns she had suffered while the boy was recovering from sever magical depletion, a few strained muscles, a separated rib and a deep scratch on his back that had been contaminated with acromantula poison, but not enough to cause any real issues besides a stubbornness for the long cut to heal.

Elsewhere in the hospital wing was a grey hair woman recovering from a blood boiling curse that had only clipped her, so the damage was minimal but would still take a few days to fully recover from. In the bed next to her was a short man reading a newspaper as he sipped at a foul smelling tea and eating some crumpets with clotted cream.

Triwizard Tournament Debacle. Third task declared defunct!

Just below the headline was a picture of the Triwizard Cup laying in a graveyard while the Goblet of Fire was still lit, indicating the tournament was not over yet.

Just below it was the other headline: The Dead Walk the Earth again! And it’s not Inferi!

The diminutive man had already read the headline stories and was now onto the daily crossword puzzle.

While the man pondered what was a seven-letter word for 'A school in Scotland_.' the clack of boots echoed in the hallway outside the hospital wing.

When the doors opened, a woman with greying strawberry blonde hair, a monocle and a strong chin stepped through the door. The man looked up to see the woman and two Aurors in their burgundy robes standing just outside the door. The opening of the door signalled the matron of this little fiefdom to leave her office.

"Madame Bones, can I help you?"

The woman gave a curt nod. "I came to talk with the witnesses from last night."

The woman pursed her lips. "Mister Potter is still sleeping and I expect him to be for a few hours more. Minerva shouldn't wake until this afternoon. Miss Granger is finally sleeping after being up most of the night, so if you want to wake her, you better call another Healer because you will have to arrest me."

The woman stood her ground to one of the strongest women in the country. Filius looked on interestedly to see how this might end.

Bones nodded. "I see you haven't changed, Poppy."

The other woman gave a small smile. "I take my oaths rather seriously. I do need to talk with you later, Amelia."

"About?"

"In private," Poppy said, looking towards the couple with their heads together at the far end of the wing.

Amelia turned her gaze that way. "Are they going to be alright?"

"Right as rain in a few days. I'll give my report to you before you leave."

Amelia nodded. "Where is Diggory?"

"The poison cure worked. He has a few bruises that bruise cream will take care of by tomorrow. He went to the great hall for breakfast. Filius is up, if he feels like talking," Poppy offered.

"If you could have Diggory meet me here? If he has a representative, that would be best as well," she said.

"I'll contact his father," Poppy replied.

"Thank you."

When the Head of the DMLE walked over to the half-goblin, Filius bowed his head. "Madam Bones, I was wondering when I would talk with someone."

"Yes. You and the others were not available last night. How are you today?"

He moved slowly as the pins and needles and slight pain of the Skele-gro was still affecting him. "Being of someone of my descent, my bone density is much greater. Right now, the bones of my right arm and leg are still growing and densifying with Skele-gro."

The woman's lip curled in a sign of sympathy for a moment. "I am very familiar with the uncomfortableness of Skele-gro. I hope you have a full recovery soon."

"It is a reminder that if I still want to claim to be a champion dueller that I have fallen in my art and need to start training again. I was caught by surprise, and it will not happen again," he said rather pragmatically.

The woman shared a genuine smile this time. "I find myself in the same situation. Perhaps after we both sharpen our craft again, we could cross wands?"

"That would be a treat, Madam Bones."

She indicated the chair next to him. "Are you well enough for an interview?"

"I am convalescing, not catatonic."

She smiled again before becoming serious. She took out a notepad and a fountain pen from an inner pocket of her robes. "This will be a semi-official interview. I will ask you to give a full statement and questioning under dictaquill when you are fully recovered."

"Of course. I am curious though why the Head of the DMLE is interviewing me instead of your Head Auror or someone else in your department," he said.

"When your mentor was being impersonated by a dead man for most of a year and a tournament cup ends up in the middle of the largest breach of the Statute of Secrecy since the Yellow Submarine incident, then I need to be," she said.

He raised a brow. "I saw that story on the front page. It is true that Peter Pettigrew is alive?"

"I cannot confirm or deny that until the investigation is complete," she said. "Can you please tell me what happened last night, starting with the preparations for the maze?

He nodded. It was enough proof for the smart professor. "Just the preparations yesterday or when I was asked to help a few months back?"

"Any highlights that might be important for what happened yesterday would be appreciated," she told him.

"Professor McGonagall, Moody and I were asked to be referees for this event in March. We had little input into the task. We were able to make some suggestions like being able to use brooms to monitor the champions and medallions to protect us from the beasts and enchantments in the maze if we needed to rescue any champion. I personally charmed three of the obstacles," he said, going into any details he knew about the preparations and what the professors had done, especially on making the obstacles that could have been deadly if they had done what Bagman had wanted.

"So, you did not know what beasts would be in the maze?" she asked.

"To prevent any champion from getting all the information from one source, Minerva and I were only involved in obstacles they requested of us and to patrol the maze," Filius replied.

"I noticed that Professor Sprout was not tasked to help?"

"Again, to prevent a champion from cheating, the only judge to know all the details was Bagman. The headmasters and professors that had direct oversight of any champion were kept away from the meetings and the maze," he said.

"Then why was Professor McGonagall allowed to attend? Isn't she Potter's head-of-house for Gryffindor?" she asked.

Filius frowned. "Mister Potter claimed that he was no longer a Hogwarts student after he was forced to participate in the first task. Magic agrees with his claim as the cup could only choose one champion per school."

"I was not aware of that fact," she commented. "If he is not a Hogwarts student, then what school is he registered at? The law states that anyone without an OWL has to be registered at a school," she stated.

"I’m sure I don't know. Headmaster Dumbledore said that he knew, and Harry would be a visiting scholar for the year and would be enrolled again at Hogwarts once the tournament was over."

He saw her jot a few notes down for items to follow up on.

"Last night, Miss Granger notified you of her suspicions. How did she do that?"

Filius looked over to the sleeping couple. He suspected that Granger was listening in as her hand was now in Potter's. "It was Minerva that attracted my attention as I had just gotten Miss Delacour to the nurse's station."

Her lips pursed. "Did you see how Delacour sustained her injuries?"

"I saw the spell fire but only investigated when the red sparks appeared. By the time I made it to the spot, Potter was running from a swarm of billywigs, Delacour was on the ground, surrounded by a protective bubble that I assume Potter cast and Krum was starting to float away from the billywig poison. He was in a poor way while Delacour was shaking and obviously suffering from the Cruciatus Curse," he said.

Her lips were still pursed. "So, you got Mister Krum and Miss Delacour to the hospital tent. That was when Professor McGonagall found you?"

"Just as I was about to fly over the maze again. Granger was with her and was scanning for someone. Minerva told me of Granger's suspicions about Moody. We told Granger to stay behind. When we confronted the man, he activated a new set of wards over the maze and got a drop on me. I have duelled with Moody before. He was never that fast, but more than made up for that with his tricks and spell repertoire.

The man I duelled was fast, but not as creative as Moody.

After having my wand arm broken, I saw Granger engage him with Minerva before I was injured to the point I passed out," he said with some shame.

"It can happen to the best of us," she admitted. "Miss Granger seemed overly concerned about Mister Potter last night. What is their relationship?"

"Is this part of the official enquiry?" he asked, unsure why this would be important.

"I'm afraid it is, but I can't release the details," Amelia replied.

"Granger and Potter have been thick as thieves since the troll incident their first year," he said.

"What troll incident?" she asked, looking up with a disturbed look.

He pursed his lips this time. "The troll that got into the school and attacked Granger on Halloween in ‘91? Weasley and Potter killed it? That should be on record."

"I assure you that I have never heard of a troll getting through the wards onto the grounds," she said.

"Director, the troll was in the school and attacked Granger while she was in a bathroom," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. "In the school? Not on the grounds?"

"In the school," he confirmed.

She flipped over a new page. "Please tell me all you know about that incident…"

He noticed Granger looking at them while her head was still on the pillow. Filius cast her a curious glance as Amelia wrote down everything he knew. He had never known Granger to keep her mouth shut. He could only assume she didn't want to talk, not did she look eager too, so he didn't let on she was up…

-oOo-

June 26, 1995

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry stretched his back with his arms straight over his head, not quite keeping the wince off his face as his newest scar pulled.

"Don't do that if it hurts," the girl next to him chastised.

"I feel all stiff and like I need to move," he told her. He put his right arm out and twisted to the left. The scar pulled and he had to stop.

"I swear, Harry, if you open that wound again, I'll body bind you and stick you to that bed myself until you fully heal," the girl told him as she turned a page of the book she was reading.

He grinned at her. "You mean you don't want to kiss it better?" he cheekily challenged.

The flash of annoyance in her chocolate eyes when she shot him a glare had him dropping his arms. "All right. I'm done. But I want to leave here."

"I know, Harry, but Madam Pomfrey wanted us to stay another day," she replied.

Hermione shifted on the bed, and the book slid off her lap as she could only use one arm. Harry moved quickly and caught the book before it could fall. The scar from the acromantula pulled again and stung. He hoped he didn't open it knowing Hermione's threat was more a promise. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he helped her get into a new position.

"How is your arm?" he concernedly enquired.

She leaned towards him but stopped when she realized what she was doing. He saw this and said, "I don't want to hide us anymore."

She gave him a soft look. "I don't either, but until we leave, we can't risk it."

"I know. I think most suspect though," he said.

She bites her lip and flushes a little. "I may have been a little distraught when I woke up and found you in the bed next to me."

Harry cupped her cheek. She stiffened for a second, then pressed her cheek into his hand when his thumb started to caress it. Her eyes closed contentedly. This tenderness he had had found in himself was something new, even to him, but he liked the way she responded. "I tried to keep my promise. I wasn't trying to be stupid or just rush into things in the maze. I just wish the damned contract didn't require us to give our all."

Her eyes opened to lovingly gaze into his. "I know, Harry. Are you going to tell me exactly what happened?"

He shrugged. Harry glanced around the room. The few portraits near the matron's door were empty at the moment. Professor McGonagall had fallen back to sleep. As much as Harry had his issues with her, he hoped she recovered soon. There was no one else in the room. His voice was at a mere whisper. "It wasn't easy, angel. If you didn't still have that time turner, I don't know if I would have survived."

Her eyes grew concerned. "They haven't allowed me to get the Daily Prophet. How bad was it?"

He leaned forward. She didn't protest as he leaned his forehead against hers and still had his hand on her cheek. "Hagrid gave them a bunch of his more interesting beasties, not to mention some that must have been imported. Skrewts, huge acromantula, a sphinx, billywigs, another Fluffy, a small swamp with a hinkypunk and horned serpents. There were probably others. I had to duel Krum. He was using the Cruciatus on Delacour."

She gasped. Her good hand searched his out. "But I thought they were dating?"

"I don't know. It was a close thing. I think my luck saved me there again. There was also…"

He stopped and jumped back. The door latch to the hospital wing rattled, then it swung open. Hermione shifted so that her bandaged arm was against her stomach. A rather severe looking woman in open robes and wearing something more akin to a modern woman's business suit purposely walked in. She had strawberry blonde hair with streaks of white. Her blue eyes scanned the room. She took them in before walking into the matron's office.

"Who was that?" Hermione questioned.

"I saw her the other night sitting with the other ministry flunkies," he said.

Hermione pursed her lips.

They waited patiently to see what would happen. It wasn't long before the woman and Madam Pomfrey were walking out of the office. The clack of the woman's boot heels reminded him of Professor McGonagall with how determined they were.

"I would really like this to wait for tomorrow," Madam Pomfrey was saying.

"I know, Poppy, but we need answers. Good morning. I'm Director Bones from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Mister Potter, Miss Granger, can I have some of your time to talk about the Triwizard Tournament and other happenings here at Hogwarts?" Director Bones said.

Harry gave her a dubious look. "I suppose," he replied.

The woman nodded. Madam Pomfrey huffed. "Amelia, if you get them riled up, I'll put you in a bed too."

Bones gave an amused smirk which quickly disappeared. "I promise to stop if they get too excited, Poppy."

With a frown, the matron turned away and stalked off towards her office again. Bones regarded them. "How are you two feeling?"

"Fine," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We are better, Director Bones."

The woman still cast them a critical eye for a moment. "I'm pleased to hear that." She reached into a pocket of her robes and pulled out a notebook and a fountain pen. She then lifted a monocle out of a breast pocket and put it onto her left eye. "If you please, I have been trying to figure out who your magical guardians are and have not been able to find any records. To do this interview, I require your guardian or a representative present as you are both underage."

Harry shared a look with Hermione. She pursed her lips. The silent communication between them couldn't be missed. After a few seconds, Harry nodded his head. "Director Bones, I would ask that you not advertise this, but I don't require a guardian anymore, and Hermione and I are betrothed, so I am her guardian."

The woman's brow rose, threatening to let the monocle fall out. "I see. And how is that possible? You are not yet fifteen, according to our records. Emancipation of the last heirs of a line cannot happen until you are fifteen. Not to mention that to be betrothed before you are emancipated or to have a guardian agree is not possible."

Harry gave her a look that said, 'You are dense.' Bones eyes narrowed at the look.

"Director Bones, I was forced into competing in the Triwizard Tournament. No on informed me that if I refused to compete in the first task, then the contract would be nullified. When I did, by the ancient rules and contract of the tournament, I was emancipated. This was confirmed by three heads of our government, the headmaster of the school I was enrolled in at the time using In Loco parental rights and the head of the ICW when they declared the contract legal," he explained. The goblins and Hermione had made sure he knew how to get that out. He didn't need to tell her that he was technically fifteen now anyways.

"Merlin on a mushroom," she said as the realization hit her.

He gave Hermione a look. He had made her realize that most magicals were not that logical.

"This will not work then. I would like to interview you both separately."

Harry reached over to take Hermione's hand. "Director Bones, the goblins made us aware of all the rights of betrothal. You will interview us together or not at all."

He had changed this last year. He had been forced too. Sneaking out over Easter had not been that hard with how much they both were avoiding just about everyone. It had scared Harry after they had used Hermione as a hostage in February. Not to mention, he didn't want his inheritance to be stolen by others if he didn't have an heir.

Director Bones nodded. "I understand, Mister Potter."

She opened her notebook and unfolded a few parchments that had been jammed between some pages. After looking at them, she nodded. "I would like to start with the event of the third task and then work my way back to your first year."

Harry pursed his lips. "Why are you only interested now and not when I was illegally entered into the Triwizard Tournament or even in previous years?" he said angrily.

"Harry, let her talk," Hermione gently said.

Harry took in a deep breath and then let it out. "Fine."

Bones took in the interaction. "Mister Potter, did you ever talk with an Auror before today?"

"I didn't even know what an Auror was before my third year," he told her.

She blinked at him. "I'm sorry, you said you didn't know what an Auror was? How is that possible if you grew up in the Wizarding world?"

Harry gave a dark snort. He was about to make a scathing comment when Hermione's hand tightened. "Director Bones, Harry didn't grow up in the wizarding world. He didn't even know about it until Hagrid told him he was a wizard on his eleventh birthday, and it wasn't until our third year that I found out he wasn't given the Muggleborn package."

The director's brow rose, and her monocle fell from her eyes. "You can't be serious?"

"Don't tell me you believe in those stupid books and biographies too?"

The woman pursed her lips and picked up her monocle again. "My niece was quite enamoured with them when younger." The woman's lips pursed more. "Then she said how you were very rude and ignored everyone's formal greetings and letters when you came to school."

He looked at her a little confused, then to Hermione. "Do you know what she is talking about?"

Hermione was annoyed. "No, but I bet it is a pureblood customs thing. I wished there were books on it in the library."

Bones just stared at them. "You really don't have any clue what I am talking about, do you?"

"Director, I am as clueless as any other muggle about our world. There are no classes, no books, the few times we tried to get books from the bookstores we were told we were not allowed without permission from our guardians. So no, I have no clue," Harry huffed.

The woman looked to be fighting to maintain her stoic visage. "I see. Though, I don't understand why you couldn't buy any books on the proper wizarding customs," she said.

He gave her a disbelieving look. "You are the director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Harry, be nice," Hermione admonished.

The woman squared her shoulders. "I am. I don't understand the accusation in your voice."

"Director Bones, you are aware of the Muggleborn restrictions?"

"I am," she replied, not sounding pleased.

"You are aware of all the statutes in them, are you not?"

"I will admit that I have not reviewed them in some years. What are you getting at?"

"You are aware that any Muggleborn or Muggle-raised is completely dependent on their magical guardian for education in the laws and customs of the magical world?" Harry questioned.

A dawning light was starting to come over the woman. "I am. But that is only supposed to be a guiding rule. What about the Wizarding Customs class?"

"What Wizarding Customs class?" Harry snidely asked.

"Harry," Hermione said. "Director Bones, I assure you that the laws are rather absolute. Without classes or permission from our magical guardians, Harry and I, and pretty much all Muggleborn, are barred from finding out anything about this world unless allowed. We get the bare minimum in the Muggleborn packages when contacted by Hogwarts. Even the goblins were not allowed to tell us anything except the laws around betrothals and inheritances because of treaties."

"That was never the intent of those laws," she said.

"That is the way they are implemented," Hermione told her.

"But Mister Potter is the heir of one of the oldest houses in the Wizengamot," she said. "He should have been tutored in his responsibilities since he was old enough to read."

Harry snorted. "Muggle-raised," he said, indicating himself. "And why would it matter about the Wizengamot?"

"Merlin," the woman said. She sat there for a long moment. After licking her lips, she asked, "Have you taken up your formal rights in the Wizengamot? You were supposed to be presented to the board when you were eleven and when you turn fifteen you can take up the regency."

Harry pursed his lips. He cocked his head towards Hermione. "Do you think that was what the goblins were trying to hint at?"

"I think so," Hermione replied.

"Well fuck," Harry said.

Bones was obviously thinking hard. The two teens sat and had a silent conversation about what they were going to do. Harry had been advocating for leaving the wizarding world. Hermione was agreeing with him now.

"Director Bones, I know you have other questions, but can you tell me if the tournament is over or not?" Harry asked.

The woman took off her monocle and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry to tell you but with the interference in the third task, it was declared to be nullified. You will need to compete in one more task."

"Bril," he said in a rather sarcastic way.

"Are you saying that my Harry is going to have to risk his life again for some gladiatorial game?" Hermione angrily snapped.

"Miss Granger, the Triwizard Tournament is not a gladiatorial game," Bones said.

"Bloody hell it isn't!" Hermione swore. Harry could tell she was really riled if she was swearing. "How the hell is it not a gladiatorial competition when Harry has had to face a dragon, rescue me from the bottom of the Black Lake, which is over three hundred meters deep where the main merfolk village is, and then have to face an acromantula and a bleeding fecking Cerberus in a deadly maze! He already has enough scars and now he has another!"

Her hair was starting to frizz up and Harry felt her magic rising. His responded. The betrothal may have originally been a way to protect her, but since then she had become his girlfriend, and he would be damned to see her hurt again. Not to mention he liked when she got riled like this and it wasn't pointed at him.

"What is going on out here?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she came out of her office.

Bones was holding up her hands to placate the teens. "Miss Granger, I assure you that my department has nothing to do with this. The competition is to press the competitors into situations they might face once they graduate," the woman said. "I admit the safeguards were not effective, but that is what I am trying to determine is how that happened."

"Excuse me, Director Bones," Hermione said in a scathing voice that would have cut to the bone if it had been a spell, "but maybe your department should have been involved? Harry, I don't care about our plans. I want to be withdrawn from Hogwarts today."

This shocked both women.

"Sure," he said. He had been trying to convince her of that since Easter. He was already an 'independent student', so he didn't have to worry about that. He only had to complete the contract to fully leave.

"Miss Granger, you can't do that before you turn fifteen and complete your OWLs," Bones told her.

Hermione sat tall, staring the older woman down. "I may not know all our laws, but I know this one. Harry and I achieved two OWLs each over Easter. I am fifteen and Harry is emancipated. I would like to see you try to snap our wands."

Bones was off footed. "Miss Granger, I do know the Muggleborn laws around this…"

"You forget, Hermione is my betrothed. Should you go after her or me, I can assure you the goblins have instructions about my vaults and the documents I do have access too," Harry told her. There were some nasty loans and other stuff that would cause a lot of pain for some key people. Bones must have realized that she was one of them.

Bones paled slightly. "I see."

"Amelia, this interview is over. I told you not to get them riled," Pomfrey said.

Bones hadn't gotten any of her questioned answered. "Poppy, I need to do this interview."

"You can come back tomorrow. Granger is obviously upset, and I need her magic to settle so that it doesn't prevent her arm from healing properly," Pomfrey told the woman.

Bones wasn't pleased. Seeing how the teens were ready to fight, and the matron was livid with her, she realized she was going to get nowhere today. "Thank you for your time today. I will come back tomorrow once we've all had a chance to calm down."

"There will be no questioning without me present," Harry told her.

Bones gave him a curt nod.

When she left, Pomfrey turned back to them. "Granger, do I need to get you a calming draft?"

Hermione huffed before letting out a long breath. As she let her muscles relax, her hair settled, and her magic drew back in. "No, Madam Pomfrey."

The woman regarded them for a long few minutes. "Potter, is it true that you were Muggle-raised?"

Harry looked at her disbelievingly. "You already know this."

The skin around her eyes pinched. "That is not what the headmaster told me or what your records say."

Harry didn't understand. "Madam Pomfrey, you were the one that healed me and gave me a incoming student check when I came here first year."

"Healed you from what? My records only show you here after your first quidditch match," she questioned.

Harry gave a small snort. "You know what, it doesn't matter. Can you just leave us alone so we can calm down?"

Hermione didn't chastise or anything.

"I should see how you are both doing after that," she said, taking out her wand.

"I refuse," he said.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned.

The woman was taken aback. "I really should see how you are healing."

"No. I demand that we both go to Saint Mungo's to be checked. The other champions went, why not us?" Harry defiantly questioned.

"I am perfectly capable, and the headmaster refused," she said.

"A headmaster that isn't my guardian or headmaster?" Harry challenged. "I formally declare my betrothal with Hermione Granger. As her guardian, I demand for her to be examined and treated at Saint Mungo’s. I will be accompanying her."

Madam Pomfrey took a step back at the power in his words. The woman had a sad and concerned quality to her eyes. Her only response could be one thing though, "I understand, Mister Potter. If you give me ten minutes to notify Saint Mungo’s you are coming and to prepare you to leave?"

"Thank you," he said.

When she walked away, Hermione looked to him. "Harry?"

He knew she hated to be ordered around, but she fully understood what she was signing up for and he had never used his power over her like this until now. He sighed. "I don't trust Dumbledore."

This was an argument that Hermione had come around on. "I don't either. Winky?"

A small pop was almost instantaneous. "Missy Hermione. Winky has been so worried," the small elf said while wringing her hands.

Hermione gave the elf a soft look as she held a finger to her mouth to indicate the elf to be quiet. It had been a surprise to both of them to find out that a wizard's bond was something they needed to live. She whispered, looking towards the matron's office to make sure they weren't seen. "Winky, please get all my items packed and take my trunk to my parent's house. Can you to do the same for Harry?"

Winky nodded, understanding her mistress's need for secrecy. With a snap of her fingers, Winky was gone.

They both understood that they were not coming back except for the last task…

-oOo-

Later that day…

London, England

John Major was growing to hate the damned portrait over the fireplace in his office. He hated it enough that he didn't do any important work in the minister’s office anymore. He didn't trust the wizards and her Majesty was coming to the same conclusion.

Thus, when he was called into his office to receive the Minister for Magic, he was annoyed as he was forced to leave a meeting with the Japanese ambassador and trade talks. As he walked into his office, the insipid man with the lime green bowler and the long house coat was already there.

The man looked rather put out. "I would appreciate you not wasting my time in the future," Fudge said as greeting.

John gave the man an angry look. "Listen, Fudge, you are the one interrupting my time. Everyone else is required to make an appointment and you are interrupting a major meeting."

Fudge just waved him off. "If you need, we'll just rearrange it for you. I don't have much time. I was sent ahead to tell you that we will have three of our Muggle Relation Officers and a few other Law Enforcement staff here soon. We are still cleaning up that mess in Little Hangleton and need access to your staff and media."

Major blinked. "You are telling me that whole gas leak and hallucination thing is you?"

Fudge gave a cheeky smile. "Rather ingenious, I thought."

"It's a bleeding nightmare! There have been news stories and my government has been pressed from all sides about us developing some new weapon that was tested on civilians," Major snapped at the man.

Fudge looked confused. "What weapon? What news stories?"

Major marched over to his desk. Finding the remote, he turned on the television he had insisted on being installed as he liked to know what the media was reporting on him. It took him only three times to find a channel talking about the flying people and animals that had been all over the countryside two nights ago.

Fudge looked at the screen with his mouth wide open. "Wha… what is that?"

"A tellie. There was a news crew there and they filmed more than an hours’ worth of people and animals flying all over the place and  your people doing something," he said, pointing at a woman shooting a red beam out of a stick. "Everyone thinks the military did this."

Fudge's mouth opened and closed a few times. "How do you have a pensive that can do that? Everyone was obliviated."

"I have no idea what this obli-what’s-it is, but the local BBC was telecasting live back to the studio," he said.

"Tele-what?" Fudge was confused.

"Listen, you get your people here. I'll get mine. We will come to an agreement on this and then I will go talk to her Majesty about what we do from here," he said.

Fudge paled. "You can't do that!"

"Her majesty and I have had had a few conversations over the last few months, and I assure you…"

Fudge whipped out his stick. "Oblivi…"

A loud boom resounded around the office. Then two more in quick succession. John ducked, covering his head, just in case it was something other than the gun shots he thought they were.

Fudge cried out in pain as he fell. John stood up to look down at the fallen Minister for Magic. The man looked up in total shock, a hand to his shoulder. There was already blood on it. Major nodded as a man in a black suit stepped out from the curtains behind his desk. "Thanks, Royce."

"My pleasure, Prime Minister," the bodyguard said, moving to cover the wizard with his gun.

"You dirty Muggle! You've killed me," Fudge said, pain all over his face and blood on his hand.

"Oh, shut up. The medics will be here shortly. I doubt a shoulder wound will kill you, but I know Royce will if you lift that wand at me again. Get the rest of the security staff on high alert. I want to talk with whoever is really in charge," he told Royce as three military paramedics came into the room with four other guards.

"Prime Minister, are you alright?" one of them asked, his weapon sweeping the room.

"I am. Minister Fudge… that is to be seen. Get him to hospital. We are expecting other guests soon. I don't want any deaths if it can be prevented," he told the guards.

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant of the guard said.

-oOo-

A few hours later…

London, England

Amelia stepped out of the floo. As she had been warned, she was already holding her wand in two fingers as she took a step out of the spinning fire and settled herself. The office was a mass of Muggle soldiers and five of her Aurors. She caught the still fresh blood stain on the carpet.

Four Muggle firelegs were pointed at her while a woman stepped forward. "Director Bones?"

"I am. I was told I was requested? And who are you?"

"Lieutenant Mattocks, ma'am. Because of a breach in our security, I must ask you to hand over your wand and allow me to pat you down to ensure you don't have any other weapons," the lieutenant said.

Amelia loathed handing over her wand, but she was under little illusion what those firelegs could do. She had seen the aftermath a few times when she had been an Auror and still had a challenging time believing the damage they could do.

"Thank you, ma'am," the woman said, gently taking her wand like it was a deadly weapon, then patted her down. "Director Bones, can I ask you to lift your pants legs and expose your forearms?"

She had to give the woman credit. She was more thorough than most of her Aurors. After giving up her wand holster and the knives on her left calf and right forearm, she was shown through to another room. A man was sitting at a table with several other officials, the head of her Obliviators, the head of her Magical Reversal team and the head of the Muggle Artefacts departments. Why no one was here from the Muggle Relations Department was troubling.

The man at the end of the table stood up. "Are you Director Bones?"

"I am. Prime Minister John Major?"

"I am, director. Please sit. We have a lot to discuss and not much time," he said.

She nodded and took a seat.

She didn't have the time to deal with the minister being a complete idiot and his cockup. Not with what she was uncovering at Hogwarts and how much danger that the young generation of their world had been in. On top of that, the discussion with Mister Potter and Miss Granger this morning had her very worried.

"So I have heard. I feel that we are on the brink of war after the Minister for Magic was hurt earlier today. I just left an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot and have only just convinced them not to send our entire DMLE to rescue him or to hunt you down," she said, feeling that being anything less than honest might set the wrong tone here.

Major had a rather long face. "I'm glad to hear that, Director Bones. To be just as frank, her Majesty has told me that if that were to happen, then she would authorize our government to 'deal' with the issue per the Treaty of London in fourteen-forty-three’ which allowed you self-governance and reserved the right for the Crown to end the agreement," he said.

The other heads from the ministry all paled. She just nodded her head. She would have petitioned for the same if the Muggles had attacked them first, but from her briefing, the moron Fudge had tried to obliviate a head of state, which was clearly against their own laws, never mind that of the ICW or that treaty. "I am here to prevent that. The Wizengamot has authorized me to speak in the minister’s stead as he recovers. I'll admit, I don't have a full picture of what led to this though."

"You are just going to let this Muggle nearly kill the minister and do nothing?" Simon Dearborn angrily said. She looked to the head of her Obliviation department.

"Head Dearborn, you are put onto administrative leave, effective immediately. Please send me the assistant head," she told him, nipping this in the bud before anything else could be said.

"You can't be serious! You are violating the Statute of Secrecy and dozens of other laws," he said.

Major picked up a black box. He pressed a button, and a moving picture started to play on a large black box on the side of the room. "I know about your Statute of Secrecy. I would consider it blown wide open if we don't come to some type of agreement and resolution on how to proceed."

Dearborn looked at the box. "What is that?"

"A video tape of what happened in Little Hangleton two nights ago. I have over an hour and a half of footage. It has been given to more than a hundred news outlets and is already making waves around Europe and over the pond with accusations that my country is conducting illegal weapon research. I really like those lights from your sticks. I am hoping it is not too late to just say this was a prank and have the media forget about it in a few days," Major said.

"What in Merlin's name is a vedo tape?" Dearborn questioned.

Weasley had gotten up to investigate the box and was looking like a kid in a candy store. "I've heard about these. How do you use a pensive to capture the pictures like that?"

She had to stifle a groan at the idiots she was surrounded by. Major looked less than impressed, as did the others on his side of the table. She assumed two of them were in the Muggle military by their uniforms and mostly likely high up with the medals on their breast. The other two were in Muggle business suits.

"Prime minister, would you allow me an hour to assemble a better team to address this issue?" she asked.

"Fine. To let you know, I am having a press conference at 18:00. If we don't have this worked out by then, I'm telling the whole world about you and will be backed by her Majesty and four other governments I have already talked with today," Major told her.

She gave a curt nod and man-handled Dearborn and Weasley out of the room. Shoving them at the fireplace she hissed at them. " Where the hell is the Head of the Muggle Relations? Get me whatever Muggleborn you have that understand all this in your departments in five minutes. I don’t care how junior they are. If you don't, you will both be looking for new jobs, if not avoiding a witch hunt which I will lead myself."

Dearborn blanched. Weasley looked chastened. She pinched her nose after they were given their wands back and then stepped through the fire. She turned to the lieutenant. "Lieutenant Mattox, may I use my wand for just a moment?"

"May I ask why, ma'am?"

"I need to send a message to get someone here," she said.

After a moment, the woman held out her wand. Amelia took it and cast a patronus. "Shacklebolt, get your arse to 10 Downing Street now. Bring Tonks. No one else."

She wished she could call on Alastor, but he was still in critical condition at St Mungo's and probably would be for a few more weeks. Ten months in a trunk and fed scraps had taken its toll on the grizzled old man.

A silver badger ran out of the room. She handed her wand back over to the lieutenant. The woman had a goofy smile on her face. "What was that, ma'am?"

She knew that muggles couldn't see it, but apparently, they could feel it. "A patronus. It's a spell that uses happy emotions and can be used to send messages."

The woman shook herself and her face went passive again. "I did feel happy. Thank you, director."

Amelia waited for the team she would need to keep this from blowing their world wide open. She was only happy she had kept the hotheads from demanding she come in wands blazing. Dumbledore had also helped, but she was starting to see him as part of the cancer as well.

-oOo-

That evening…

Redhill, England

Helen Granger grabbed Hermione into a tight hug the second the door had opened. "Oh, Hermione! Winky told us you were hurt and had to leave the school. What happened to your arm?"

Hermione hugged her mum back with one arm. "I'll be alright, mum. The Healer said I'm healing well."

Her father was eyeing Harry. "What happened?" the man demanded.

"Will, don't be that way," Mrs Granger chastised. After giving her daughter a once over, she reached for Harry. "And how are you?"

He took in a sharp breath as she hugged him tight. She caught that and backed up. "Where are you hurt?"

"Just a scrape on my back," he told her.

Hermione gave him an exasperated look.

Mrs Granger pulled him in and shut the door. She gave Hermione another hug before shuffling them into the sitting room. She made sure that Hermione was comfortable and her arm up before sitting down. Winky had brought in a tray of tea and scones, then scurried back out once she was satisfied everyone was getting something.

"I've been patient enough. What happened?" Mr Granger demanded.

They shared a look and Hermione started. "As we thought, the third task was a trap. We did everything that you suggested dad, but Harry was almost portkeyed away. I figured out that our Defence professor was polyjuiced and a few professors confronted him, but he put up wards that trapped Harry and Cedric in the maze. Harry was hurt by an acromantula. That's the wound on his back, not to mention he hurt several ribs and other injuries."

"Sweetheart," Mrs Granger said. "Slow down. You need to start at the beginning, and how did you get hurt?"

Hermione huffed. Harry said, "She duelled the Defence teacher with McGonagall and Flitwick and was hit with a fire ball."

"It was a flame gout spell. I deflected most of it," Hermione said.

"You were nearly torched to death!" Mrs Granger screeched.

"You are leaving that school," Mr Granger announced.

"Harry was nearly eaten by an elephant sized tarantula," Hermione yelled over them.

Winky appeared with several vials of blue potion. "Thank you," Harry said to her.

The Grangers were working themselves into a tizzy. They had been able to confirm that both Hellen and William were squibs, so he poured a vial of the calming draft into each cup of tea. Hermione cast him a nasty glare when he took out his wand and cast a silencing charm on them all. "We are all upset over this. There is a calming draft in your tea. Drink."

Mr Granger didn't like a fifteen-year-old telling him what to do. Harry just stared right back. He was done being intimidated by adults that usually meant him no good. "Mister Granger, I agree with you. Hermione is not going back. I will send in her withdrawal in the morning. I have to go back to redo the third task, but that is it. After that, we're done."

"Please, drink the tea and we can tell you everything we know. I meant it over Easter that I would not hide anything from you," he said.

Hermione had gotten her own wand out and had tapped her throat. It was nice to be emancipated, betrothed to an emancipated wizard and to have some OWLs. The trace was broken as soon as they had gotten their results.

"What promise?" Hermione demanded of him.

"Luv, drink," he told her.

Her eyes narrowed. "Harry James Potter, what promise?"

He was still holding Mr Granger's eye. "I promised your parents that when they signed the betrothal that I would tell them everything."

The man gave Harry a hard look for a long moment before picking up his tea.

Hermione glared at him for a moment before sighing. "Let me guess, that was one of the demands my father had of you that he wouldn't tell me?"

"Yes," Harry said.

Mrs Granger waved her hand. Harry realized he still had them silenced. "Sorry, Missus Granger. I know you want answers, and I thought it best than having you being so upset you didn't listen."

She shook her head. "I don't appreciate having magic used on me like that. Do you understand?"

He nodded, feeling a little guilty, but he was still feeling anxious after what happened the night of the last task, their interview with Director Bones, the Healers at Saint Mungo's giving them a hard time before healing them and now anxiety over having to do another potentially deadly task…

Hermione pushed his teacup towards him. "Luv, you drink too."

"Not until you are safely away. Mister Granger, did you make the plans?" Harry asked.

"I can call to get the tickets in the morning," he told him.

Hermione got what Harry was doing. "I am not leaving without you."

"You know I have to go back until this is all done," he told her.

"Harry, no," Hermione defiantly stated.

"What are you talking about?" Missus Granger asked.

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. The Grangers were at least all calmed down. He let out a long breath. "I don't know all the details, but from what we can piece together, I think Voldemort tried to kidnap me. This whole tournament was to get me away from Hogwarts," Harry said, telling them everything that happened during the task.

Hermione interjected with what they had done and what they had figured out since Easter. By the time they were done, Mrs Granger was forbidding either of them going back…

-oOo-

June 27, 1995

Redhill, England

Hermione leaned her head onto Harry's shoulder. He had woken with a nightmare last night and she had crawled into his bed, putting his head into her lap. At about three in the morning, he had confessed that he had seen something horrible again through his scar as he grabbed her leg.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.

She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "I'm right here, Harry."

When she looked up, her hand carding through his hair, her mother had been standing in the doorway. Her mother had looked concerned before closing the door.

Now Hermione was tired. The potions and burn cream sapped her energy for a while after taking them.

Harry and her parents were watching the small tellie that her father had brought into the kitchen today.

"The prime minister's office has been denying for days that the military has been conducting illegal experiments on civilians. Famous film director, Steven Spielberg, has now come forward that he has been working on a sequel to his popular Encounters of the Third Kind and the filming that night was supposed to be private. The council of Little Hangleton has admitted they were under a contract and gag order to not talk about it…" the news anchor was saying.

"That wasn't a film, was it?" her mum asked.

A blue bug landed on the film equipment, and then quickly flew away.

Harry started to laugh. "Bloody hell, that's where they ended up?"

Hermione blinked. "Was that…?"

"A billywig? Yeah," he said, a huge smile on his face.

Her father was quicker today. "You mean those little blighters you were telling us about?"

"Will and Harry, please no profanity at the table," her mum demanded.

Harry was still chuckling as they saw people floating around. "There was a whole swarm of them.” He couldn’t stop chuckling. “That is brilliant to say it was just a special effect for a movie."

Hermione yawned. "This could have been a disastrous breach of the Statute of Secrecy."

Harry shrugged. She gave him an annoyed look for moving her comfortable pillow.

"Perhaps you should go back to bed for a bit?" her mum suggested.

"It will pass in an hour or two," Hermione assured her mum.

"I'm going to book the tickets to New Zealand. When can you leave, Harry?" her dad questioned.

Harry answered, "I don't know."

There was a tap at the French doors. Harry turned his head. "Hedwig," he happily said.

She sat up to look. "She has a note in her beak."

Harry got up and quickly came back to the table with Hedwig in his arms. He put the sleepy looking snowy owl onto the perch her parents had gotten first year when she had started to use Hedwig.

Hermione looked up to him to see him reading the letter. "What is it?"

"The headmaster is recalling me," he said.

"What does that mean?" her father enquired.

Harry crumbled up the paper and put the ball on the table. "Nothing. He can't tell me or Hermione to do anything. Hedwig took your withdrawal note to McGonagall last night. Thanks girl," he said, petting her head before sitting down. Hedwig gave a small hoot before closing her eyes.

"She flew to Scotland and back over night? Magic still amazes me," her mum remarked.

Harry grinned. "Me too."

Hermione smiled at him. She wasn't in as much of a foul mood as she had been yesterday. Finally feeling hungry, she had put some porridge into her bowl. "I want to go to Uni, but we should finish our OWLS and get our NEWTS."

"I thought they were Advanced Wizarding Level in New Zealand?" her mum asked, making a second cup of tea as the news played in the background.

"They are. We've heard NEWTS for the last four years," Hermione said.

"We can visit the two schools that we contacted once we get there. I really want you to go as soon as possible though," Harry told her.

"I'm not going without you," she told him.

"Hermione, sweetie, what if you and I go and wait for your father and Harry? We need to find somewhere to stay for a bit. The house isn't supposed to be ready until August and we can make appointments with Horocopria and the Southern School of Thaumatology," her mum said.

"Mum, what if Harry needs me again? If I hadn't found out about Moody, Harry might have ended up where those billywigs went," she shot back.

Her parents shared a look. There was another tap on the glass of the French doors. This time two owls waited for them. One was a smaller tawny owl that Hogwarts and many other people used around the UK, the other was a large eagle owl.

"Now what?" Harry asked exasperated.

"That one looks like a Gringotts owl," her father commented.

"It is," Harry said, opening the door. The goblins had put up wards to prevent anything bad getting to them, so he didn't bother to suspect anything wrong. "What is it?"

"Gringotts just confirming that the contract is still active." He frowned as he read the second one. She didn't like the look on his face as he sat. "Bloody hell!"

"Harry, please," her mother said.

"This is bloody shite! We have to do the same fecking task all over again," he said, slamming the note on the table.

"You can't be serious!" her father demanded.

She grabbed the letter. Harry snorted. "Of course I'm not Sirius. I mean, what adult in their right mind would make me get to the centre of a maze with deadly class four and five creatures and bogs that will sooner have you sink up to your to neck so a fecking hinkypunk can eat your brains after it fries your head? I mean, that would be mental. Right?"

Her mother had a light in her eyes. "That is it! There has to be someone in our government that knows about magic and that can stop this gladiatorial bollocking go on."

"Mum!" Hermione said scandalized.

Harry shared a look with Mr Granger. "It's fine for them but not for us?"

"Welcome to being with a Granger woman," he said.

"I was a Puckle long before I married you and I didn't swear before I started to date a Granger man," Mrs Granger stated, taking the letter from Hermione when she was done reading it.

"As you say, dear," Mr Granger casually replied. "Are they really making Harry go through that maze again?"

She was fuming. "Yes," Hermione acidly replied.

"When is the end of your school year?"

"July second," she answered her mum.

"So, they are extending the school year to July eighth then?"

"Apparently. I'm not going back until that day," Harry told her. "Hermione, please go to New Zealand before then."

"If you are doing that hell again, I am going to prepare with you," she told him.

"Another thing of Granger woman, once they set their mind, only a rhinoceros can change their path," her dad said, taking the letter from her mum.

"Try more like a dragon," he said.

Hermione held her chin up high. "It's not my fault I'm strong willed."

"Again, I will point to my Puckle side. You know my mother," her mum commented.

"I try to forget," her dad muttered.

Her mother drilled her finger into his side. "My mother is not that bad, and you are her favourite son-in-law."

"I'm her only son-in-law. Oi! Woman, can you stop that?"

She grinned at her parents. Harry leaned over, his breath tickling her ear. "Tell me we won't be like that?"

"I'll just use a tickling hex," she said primly before turning back to her porridge.

Harry chuckled before falling into a brooding silence. She didn't blame him as she was trying to figure out what to do differently now that they knew what to expect.

-oOo-

Part III

-oOo-

June 29, 1995

London, England

Amelia sat at her desk. A bottle of clear liquid was the only evidence of any type of food for days. It was late and the last week had been horrid.

First the debacle of the Triwizard Tournament. Then the near collapse of the Statute of Secrecy. New talks about the Treaty of London where the queen and the prime minister were demanding more oversight of their world. Evidence of sever child abuse of the Boy-Who-Lived, not to mention he should be up for an Order of Merlin or three for adventures even more fantastical than the old books Susan used to love. Now the same said boy is missing. On top of all that was the arrest of the minister and several other 'respectable citizens' for corruption, conspiracy, cover ups and a dozen other crimes. The cherry on top of it all was the arrest warrant on her desk.

Amelia knocked back the little left in her glass and then poured more. She was going to pull the warrant up to her to review it one more time when a knock came at the door. "Come in," she growled. She had had way too little sleep and food in the last six days.

The door opened to reveal the last person she wanted to see. Though, it was rather convenient. "What do you want, Dumbledore?"

She put the warrant down. The old man was looking worn himself. "You are here late, Amelia."

She scowled at him. "I don't have time for your games, and its Director Bones."

"I see. I was checking in to see if you have found my wayward students yet?" the man said moving in and helping himself to a seat. She didn't want to talk with him, but she needed answers, and he had been rather scarce with them. She pulled out another glass from her draw and put it before the old man.

"Are you just old and forgetful or are you really as much of an arse as I am finding out?" she asked.

Dumbledore was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"I already said I am not into your games tonight." She indicated the paperwork on her desk. "I was presented a warrant from my lead investigator into the Triwizard Tournament and Harry Potter. Do you want to know who it’s for?"

The old man's eyes narrowed, and he stiffened. "I'm sure I don't know."

"There is a litany of charges to be questioned about. Fraud. Kidnapping. Child Neglect. Child Abuse. Stealing. Subversion of a noble house's will. Manslaughter. Intent to end a noble house's line. Those are only the items I looked at. There are still pages more in the file," she said, touching a thick file on her desk. "There is years’ worth of accusations and potential crimes for my investigators to keep themselves busy with for months. Take a guess who?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "I'm sure I don't know.”

She poured a healthy amount of the smoking fire whiskey into his glass. "Really? No guesses? As I see it, there are three possible outcomes now that you have walked into my office."

Dumbledore shifted and there was a click that echoed around the office. Dumbledore froze. A woman in yellow robes disillusioned herself. In one hand she held her wand. In the other was a firearm (now that she knew what to call it).

"May I introduce Hit Witch Constance Elsworth from the MACUSA. Over there they don't stick to just wands and traditional weapons,” she said far more casually than she should. It had been a long week.

"Amelia, what is this?"

"Albus, you have three options, and depending how you answer my questions depends on which option I use.”

Dumbledore’s eyed grew hard. He glared at Amelia for a moment before saying, “What questions?”

Amelia tapped the parchment. “Albus, this warrant is for your arrest. You are going to answer my questions truthfully. If you do, then you will walk out of this office and then repeat your answers to a tribunal. That is option one.”

“Option two is if you don’t, you will be arrested and dosed with veritaserum until it is coming out your ears and then answer to a tribunal. I will then have the Unspeakables verify your answered. Your positions and blood status will not protect you.

Option three, which is my least favourite only because I want answers, is to find out if a Muggle firearm is faster than the legendary draw speed of Albus Dumbledore. Hit Witch Elsworth will not hesitate to use lethal force. Which way this goes is up to you," she told him.

The man's more congenial demeanour dropped. He looked downright dangerous. His hand inched for his left sleeve. The firearm pressed to the man's head. "I do hope you are just taking out your wand to put it onto my desk?"

She reached for a quill to sign her name on the warrant. That would at least make this legal.

He moved slowly. "Of anyone, I would never expect you to go dark, Amelia."

She shook her head. "That is the issue with you, Dumbledore. If anyone opposes your view, they are dark. If anyone works against your vision of the Greater Good, a slogan that Grindelwald used to use, then they are disposed of. If you need resources because your family was poor and you don't know how to manage money, then you steal it from orphans."

She tapped the folder. "I have enough evidence already to bury you, and this only seems to be related to one Harry James Potter and those around him. I was told there are nine other files like this that are being worked on and there will most likely be more. So, Albus, are you going to put your wand on my desk and then answer my questions, or are we going to do this the hard way?"

The man's eyes lit with a dangerous power. Before he could do anything, a red flash hit his back. The man's eyes rolled into his head. She felt no pity as his forehead slammed into her desk hard enough she was sure he would have an egg when he woke up. Amelia sighed. "Hit Wizard Elsworth, please remand Mister Dumbledore and take him to the infirmary. He is to be given a flushing regime. I want to question this bastard by tomorrow morning."

The woman gave a crisp salute. The Hit Wizards were often trained with the Muggle military in the MACUSA so they usually were much more professional than her own Aurors. That was something that would need to change. "Yes, Director Bones. Ah, where is the infirmary?"

She sighed again and took a sip of her fire whiskey. This time of the night she would have to show the hit wizard where to go. Getting up, she rolled up the warrant. She mind as well drop it off with the night desk Auror.

Now, she just needed to find Potter and Granger and finally question them on what happened this year, not to mention about a thousand other items…

-oOo-

July 1, 1995

London, England

Merlin, she didn't want this office, but after the last eight days, she couldn't turn down the Wizengamot after they ousted Fudge and Selwyn put Greengrass up for nomination. The man was a traditionalist, and she expected that a traditionalist was the last thing they needed at this moment. Not with the Crown breathing down their necks to dissolve the Ministry for Magic.

If that happens, then the ICW would most likely react and then things would get even worse.

As the interim Minister for Magic until the official elections could be held in six weeks, it was the remit the first night on the job to go see her counterpart.

She tapped the badge on the desk. There was now an Auror team posted at 10 Downing Street. After it was acknowledged she could come through, she put a pinch of green powder into the fire. As she stepped out on the other end, she was not surprised to find that the portrait and floo fireplace had been moved to a receiving room just off the PM's office.

McWilliams and Perth were on duty today, along with five military men opposite the flames.

"Minister Bones, the Prime Minister is waiting for you," a sergeant told her.

"Thank you."

Major was sitting behind his desk. The tellie was playing in the background. She had a feeling that was a play on his part to remind him why the Muggles now held so much power over them. "Minister Bones, I can say I have seen you more in the last week than I think any PM has seen the Minister for Magic in many years."

She took the offered seat and the teacup placed before her. "Yes. The last week has been rather eventful, though I am only the interim-minister."

"Doesn't matter. Out of the top brass at your ministry, you have been the most competent so far," he said.

She nodded her head, acknowledging the point.

"How long before you become the minister for term?"

"Six weeks."

He nodded. "I take it that Minister Fudge recovered?"

"He has made a full recovery, but he is facing some stiff charges. The Wizengamot removed him from office with a no confidence vote," she replied, tapping the spoon on the edge of the cup after adding two sugars.

"I'm pleased to hear that you are taking her Majesties recommendations so seriously," he said.

She didn't like the dig, but she wasn't really in a position of power to refute it either. "It has always been my highest duty to follow the law. I was unaware how much Muggle law supersedes our own because of the Treaty of London," she replied.

"Yes. I made sure that our solicitors determined what was and what wasn't covered. Did you know that there are even wizards working for my government?" he asked rather casually.

She could only assume the workers were Muggleborn that had been forced out of their world. Tonks, Potter, Granger and others had made it abundantly clear the extreme disadvantage that Muggleborn and Muggle-raised were at. "I did not, but I'm not that surprised."

"I thought you might not be. Not like that Weasley bloke. I would appreciate it that if he is allowed back here, that he gets a proper education on the real world first," Major told her.

She had heard of Arthur’s last visit where he shocked himself while investigating a plug outlet with a fork. "I am taking your suggestions, but it will take time for me to get a proper educational team established to train employees at the ministry."

The man nodded, then reached for a folder. "I fully understand. Well, if you would like, I have the profiles on several dozen candidates and two instructors from one of our military schools that have already worked up a basic course on the normal world."

She could only graciously take the folder. "I will bring this to our Muggle Cooperation Office, and we will be reaching out to you in the next few days."

The man nodded. "The contact information to the Defence Ministry is in the folder. You can go through my office if you need the first time until you establish a way to access it. I will warn you, they will not take kindly to people just popping in or green flames shooting out of fireplaces without warning."

"I will pass that on."

"Excellent. I've also seen that there are many things going on in your ministry. We count more than a dozen arrests, including the headmaster of your premier school?" He slid out a newspaper with a moving photo from under another folder.

She pursed her lips. "We are in the middle of a deep investigation that has exposed corruption at many levels," she replied.

"I see that. I know it has only been a few days, Minister Bones, but her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, has expressed optimism. I hope when we meet again in a week that I can report more progress and optimistic changes to her?" he said.

"Mister Major, what we have done in the last week has stressed the ministry. I do not think we can have significant changes in that time," she said.

He nodded sagely. "I figured at much, that is why I have pencilled in this three hour block every Saturday morning for the foreseeable future, or until her Majesty feels that her subjects are keeping the treaty. Of course, with the new negotiations starting next month, what is expected will become much clearer."

She managed to keep her calm. What they knew of their world was about to change beyond anything recognizable.

"I look forward to our teas, prime minister."

Major saluted her with his cup and then sipped from it.

-oOo-

July 2, 1995

Hogwarts, Scotland

The last letter said he had to be here by eight. So around 7:45, he entered the Leaky Cauldron in London, plopped a few knuts into the tray to let Hermione go through first, and then he followed her before anyone was really aware that he had been there. Stepping out at the Three Broomstick, he took one stumbling step before coming to rest. The last time had not gone as smoothly.

Hermione took his hand.

Three Aurors had been waiting for him, and he was soon in McGonagall's office.

She was giving them a severe look. Minister Bones was standing by the window of the office. "Mister Potter, did you receive the multiple summons to the Aurors office?"

"I did, Minister Bones," he said. Hermione was sitting up straight in the chair next to him. She had refused to let him go alone and he had promised he wouldn't tell her what to do.

"And why didn't you respond or show?" she demanded.

"After our last talk and with everything that has happened to me, I don't trust that I would be kidnapped or accused of something," Harry told her. "I am here today. I am protected by the tournament rules and my contract. Once this is done, I am gone."

"Mister Potter, this is not how it works. You are a person of interest. Those were sanctioned summons. You can't just ignore them," the minister replied.

"I thought the unbreakable contract with the Goblet of Fire protected me from every action during a task or while preparing. Are you going to arrest me?" Harry asked.

Hermione tightened her grip on his hand. "She can't, Harry. Sanctioned summons are only requests for information. You have a month from the time you receive the first one to reply. Minister Bones, my betrothed is here today. We were told to be here early, for a reason I don't know. Harry is correct about the contract. We will make ourselves available until the third task starts, but I want my parents and our solicitor present."

Hermione had spent too much time last year researching law to save Buckbeak. Even though they now understood that the Hogwarts library was missing a sizable number of laws related to the purebloods and Muggleborn, there was enough to understand their basic rights.

"Amelia, you ask me to have them here at this time. Is this why?" McGonagall asked.

"It is. I have Aurors waiting to question them. Miss Granger, your parents are not allowed here as they are Muggles," Minister Bones informed her.

"Actually, Minister Bones, when they signed the betrothal contract, Gringotts validated that both her parents are squibs. If they aren't allowed here, then why is Mister Filch working here?" Harry asked.

The minister stared at him for a moment. "You are from squib lines?"

"I am. Not that it matters because the Wizengamot dissolved the houses and stole everything from Gringotts and the estates of my great grandparents," she said.

To Amelia, some of their anger and disobedience was starting to make sense. "Miss Granger, can I ask what lines you are related too?"

"You can ask," Hermione replied. "I don't see the significance though as I can't reclaim anything by law."

"Miss Granger, please show some respect to the minister," McGonagall said.

Hermione just defiantly glared at her old professor.

"Miss Granger, I may be able to reverse some of the damage done to your family. Who are you related too?" the minister asked sounding like she was offering an olive branch.

"Dagworth-Granger and Shafiq. I don't see how you could do anything since the Wizengamot seats went to the Malfoys and Parkinsons, and everything else my family owned has long since gone elsewhere," the girl replied bitterly.

"Dear Merlin," McGonagall said.

The minister just stared at the girl.

"Is this all?" Harry questioned, not willing to put up with this. "Either get the Doctors Granger and their solicitor or leave us alone."

"I will send a representative to get your parents. Please don't go far, and you may need to stay after the task if we are not done," the minister told them.

"Unless you are going to arrest me, we have no intention of spending another night at Hogwarts," Harry told her. He got up and put a hand on Hermione’s back to lead her out. They need to find a quiet place to sit on the grounds as neither of them really wanted to talk to anyone else in the castle.

-o-

Minerva rounded on Amelia. "How are the estates of the Dagworth-Grangers and Shafiqs gone? I thought treaties were supposed to have the goblins hold the vaults for a hundred years in case a new heir was found?"

Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Merlin on a mushroom! Can this get any worse?"

"Worse? This is disastrous! Potter has pulled Granger out of school, and I had to sign off on their transcripts and give them letters of recommendation. Amelia, they are planning to leave the country. You can't allow this," Minerva stated.

"And what would you have me do? Arrest them? Apprentice them to a Pureblood using the Muggleborn laws? Minerva, you have no idea what is actually happening at the ministry. That whole billywig debacle in Little Hangleton has opened up Pandora's box and the Muggles are threatening to expose us, and I won't be able to stop it if they do," Amelia said, throwing her hands into the air and finally losing it.

"And that girl is right! There is nothing I can do to help her right now. That old, bearded wanker that ruled the government for the last seventy years was the one to dissolve those houses and hand the bloody seats over to the other purebloods. That's only two of more than two dozen cases we are investigating where Dumbledore played his games."

Minerva put a hand to her mouth.

"The queen is threatening to dissolve the ministry. If she does that, the ICW will not take kindly to that and is already threatening to step in. Do you know what that will mean? Minerva, the Muggles have weapons and methods of finding us that I have never even heard of until recently. We have months, at best, to turn this all around and if that boy steps away, there will most likely be a revolution on our hands, especially when they find out that Voldemort isn't dead!"

Minerva went white at the last declaration. Her mouth moved a time or two. "What are you saying?"

Amelia stopped her frantic hand waving as she paced up and down the office. Her face showed her realization that she had said more than she should have.

"What do you mean You-Know-Who isn't dead?"

"Bloody Morgana's tits," Amelia swore, pinching her nose again. "Minerva, I have to ask you to forget I said that, otherwise I will have to obliviate you."

Minerva stood up, a fierceness coming over her face. "You listen here, lass. I still remember giving you a weeks’ worth of detention after finding you and that Selwyn boy in a closet with your knickers around your knees. With Albus gone, I am responsible for the health and safety of the students. What do you mean You-Know-Who is not dead?"

Amelia sighed. "Minerva, I really can't say. There are other protections I have put in place for today. Your students… my niece… will be safe. We need Harry Potter more than he or anyone probably knows. If I have to arrest him, I will, but I would rather not do that. If anything like that gets out, the Muggles will not be pleased."

Minerva stood tall over the younger woman. Her lips were pursed. "I was forced to look the other way while Albus played his games. With him gone, my oaths are done. I will send everyone home right now if you don't tell me exactly what is going on, Amelia."

"Minerva, the students can't be released until this is done," Amelia told her.

"Poppy cock. I am the Acting Headmistress. I can send them all home within the hour," she said.

"Minerva, the Unspeakables found that the magic of the Goblet of Fire is actually drawn from all the people that were present at the time it was lit. If a single or dozen people are missing for an event, the magic to power the binding contract is negligible and would never be missed if they break their side of the contract to view and verify the contestants followed their end of the contract. If you were to send them all away, then they would be breaking their end of the contract, and the cup would pull on everyone to exact its price on everyone else. I was told that it would create a loop that would drain every one of their magic as it tries to rip their magic away from them," she said.

"Ye can't be serious?"

"Deadly so, I'm afraid," Amelia said.

"And the cup can't be destroyed?"

"I'm sure it can, but would whatever force I assemble against the combined magic of several hundred students and dozens of adults be enough? I don't have that many Aurors, Hit Wizards or Unspeakables, not to mention it could kill whatever side lost," Amelia answered.

"Merlin…" Minerva said in horror.

"Once this is over and the fire goes out, the first thing that is going to happen is that that the damn cup is going to be destroyed. This will never happen again."

The magnitude and severity of the way Albus Dumbledore played with the lives of everyone around him was only just being realized.

-oOo-

About dinner time…

Hogwarts, Scotland

Hermione pulled him in so that his forehead was against hers. "You listen to me, Harry James Potter, you do everything you can to come back to me."

"I swear I will," he promised her.

"If… if I could have all the champions over here," a rather nervous Ludo Bagman said. They were inside a multiroom tent just outside the former Quidditch pitch.

Krum shuffled up to them with his head down. Harry eyed him suspiciously. He had come across him torturing Delacour with the Cruciatus curse. They looked to have been through a duel. Harry had jumped in to stop Krum. That duel had been close to causing permanent harm to both of them. His separated ribs was from the bludgeoning curse the Bulgarian had tagged Harry with. It had come out later that the poor young man had been found to be under the imperious curse.

Delacour was standing behind a slightly short man with a muscular build. She cast weary glances at the other champions. Harry didn't blame the blonde bombshell for being a little jumpy after she had been crucioed by her own boyfriend. Though, if the rumours were true, they were no longer a couple.

Diggory's usually easy smile was replaced with a rather serious game face. The sandy-blond Hufflepuff caught Harry's eye and gave him a little nod. Harry returned the gesture.

Out of the original judges, only Bagman and Madam Maxime were left. According to the papers, Crouch was dead, Dumbledore was in prison and Karkaroff had run off. In their place was Minister Bones, Minister Delacour from France and Director Scrimgeour of the DMLE. Bagman gave Bones and the lion maned man a nervous glance.

"As you know, the third task had to be declared defunct due to outside interference. This task was chosen by the Goblet of fire, thus you will be running the maze again. As there is some question about how the cup enforced the contract, the maze has been setup exactly the same as last time," the man said, cowering a little under Bones' hard glare.

"There are dangers and the judges have decided to allow you to wear protective clothing this time. You will be allowed to take your wand and one other item from the allowed list with you. So that we can track you and respond to issues easier, each of you will have this little snitch following you," Bagman said, releasing a small snitch that flitted over to hover around Delacour's head. "It will track your progress and broadcast what you are doing to several large mirrors outside the maze. Lastly, the organizers will give you portkeys so that you can get out of the maze without waiting for someone to come rescue you if you get in over your head," the man said.

"How do we know where the portkey goes?" Diggory demanded.

Diggory was just as apprehensive as Harry after finding out where the billywigs had ended up. What would have happened if they had ended up in the same place as Pettigrew and Crouch Jr?

"Mister Diggory, the portkeys will be made while we all stand here in the tent. They will be activated by a password, if you are seriously injured or incapacitated. Unspeakables have agreed to trace the location of the portkey exit point if you want," Minister Bones said, indicating a figure in a grey robe standing in a corner.

This satisfied the boy.

"I will have my Aurors verify," Minister Delacour stated.

Harry shook his head. "No. I won't wear any portkey."

He wouldn't trust anything made here.

"Mister Potter, this is a safety measure that I insist on," Minister Bones said, obviously becoming exasperated with the young man today.

He shook his head. "I'll walk out again. Tell me the Triwizard Cup is not a portkey."

There was silence.

"You want us to take the cup again?" Diggory asked.

His father put a hand on his shoulder. "Ced, I was there when the spell was cast and verified the location the Unspeakable traced it too," Mister Diggory said.

Harry pursed his lips. Hermione held his hand tight.

"Yes, well, you will all wear a portkey and there will be Aurors patrolling the maze this time. Before we start, you will receive a medical check and be segregated for an hour to ensure you are under no mind altering or enhancement potions, charms or hexes. Your dinner will be provided after your check-up. As stated before, you must compete to the best of your abilities, but if you find it is too much, you can use your portkey or send up sparks if you need help. The first one to the cup will be declared the winner. The task will not be completed until the cup and a champion leaves the maze or you are all incapacitated. Any questions?" Bagman asked.

When no one said a thing, Bagman clapped his hands together. "If champions would, you each have a room in through that door. You may have one person accompany you while you are checked and wait. Promptly at eight, we will call you out in the same order as last time."

Hermione accompanied him and waited. They didn't say much as they ate after a Mediwitch announced him clean. When the guests were asked to leave, Harry took both of Hermione's hands. "Will you please go home? I'll be there soon."

"I'm going to go sit with my parents and we will leave once you are out," she told him. Her parents had come and sat through the two hours of questioning with Minister Bones and the Aurors. They had then decided to stay. If everything went well, they would all be on a plane about 6:00 tomorrow morning.

Harry knew it had been a lost cause. "Fine. Just be careful," he said, giving her a chaste kiss.

"You are the one that needs to be careful. Come back to me," she said in a whisper.

"I promise."

Her eyes were worried and watery. Not satisfied with the previous peck, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him to her lips. This kiss was much needier and heavier. When she pulled her tongue out of his mouth, she put her forehead to his again.

"I love you," she whispered.

Harry grinned. She hadn't told him that yet. "The same," he said, never having said those words before and unsure if he could. She pecked his lips.

"Miss Granger, it's time to leave," an official said.

"Come back," Hermione told him before walking out the tent.

"I promise," he promised her again. The champions were then shown into a small receiving room. Krum sat heavily in a chair, looking down and totally defeated before it even started. Fleur stood in a corner, eyeing them all suspiciously. Cedric stepped up to him.

"Listen, I wanted to say this to you before now, but you haven't been around," Cedric said.

Harry took the hand extended to him. "Yeah, well, I didn't trust this place to not try to kill me or Hermione again."

Cedric gave him a wry smile. "I know what you mean this year. I wanted to say thank you for saving me the first time."

Harry returned the grin. "It's kind of what I do, according to Hermione. It's not your fault we are in this mess."

"Even so, thanks."

Cedric stepped away and began to check the dragon-hide vest and other hardened pads he had on.

Krum looked up. Harry gave him a cautious glance. "Thank you for not killing me and saving Flower."

Harry gave the older boy a hard glare. "Sure."

Realizing he wasn't going to get a better response, Krum nodded before moving to take off his robes to expose a dark red dragon hide vest.

Fleur approached, her eyes a little watery. "I wanted to say thank you. You are not a leetle boy and my father would like to talk to you when this is done."

Harry was a little more conciliatory. Since the first task, she had mellowed quite a bit. "I only did what anyone should. How are you feeling?"

"Beeter." She held up her left hand. The fingers were all moving slightly. "I am told it will pass in another few weeks."

"I'm sorry you went through that. I don't think I'll have time to talk to anyone after I leave here though," he said.

"Please do. My father feels there is a debt, and he would like to recognize it," she told him.

Harry had a feeling this was another of those pureblood or wizard customs he had no clue about. "If I'm available, I will."

She nodded and moved to take off her robes to show off dragon-hide armour similar to Diggory's.

Harry moved to his chair to do the same. Shucking off his cloak, he didn't miss the sharp intake of air behind him. "What ees that?" Fleur asked.

This brought the other twos attention to him.

Harry knew this would be something big by the way the goblins had reacted too. "Basilisk armour," he said, indicating the chest plate, greaves, boots, forearm guards and finger-tip less gloves. He could have had a full suit, but he found that too restrictive.

"Merlin's balls, Potter! Where would you get that much basilisk hide?" Diggory asked wide eyed.

Harry snorted. "What do you think I killed second year."

The boy's eyes widened more, and his face paled. "You mean you are Slytherin's Heir?"

"Bloody hell, you are as stupid as the rest of your house. No. I killed the bloody thing when I confronted Tom Riddle," Harry said.

Delacour had gone from a cowed maiden to looking at him hungrily. Krum appraised what he was wearing.

Krum commented, "That could not be just one. Basilisks are not that big. That is a fortune you have there."

Harry grinned at the Bulgarian. "A thousand-year-old basilisk is big. I still have enough to make a few more armour sets like this and still sold off half the hide."

They didn't have a chance to say anything else as an Auror stuck his head into the tent. "It's time for you to come out."

Harry checked his wand in the built-in holster on his left forearm guard, then the knife from his vault on the other arm.

Diggory stepped in besides him while Fleur just watched him as he walked to the entrance. "Are you telling me that Slytherin's monster was a thousand-year-old basilisk?"

"Pretty sure that's what I just said," Harry cheekily replied.

The older teen was still stark white. "Morgana's tits! How didn't we all die?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

When they walked out of the tent, they were met by the excited crowd and Bagman explaining things.

"The champions will start in the same order and with the same handicap as last time. That means Harry Potter is first, followed by the Hogwarts' champion, Cedric Diggory ninety seconds later. The Durmstrang champion, Victor Krum will start two minutes and five seconds after Potter and the Beauxbatons champion, Fleur Delacour, will start last, a full three minutes behind Potter," Bagman called out without his usual bravado or enthusiasm.

"Mister Potter, please line up at the start and you can go when the cannon sounds."

Harry looked up into the stands. Hermione was sitting with her parents next to the stairwell to his right with an Auror next to them. He hoped that didn't mean what he feared it did. At least they knew that Dobby was still here and could get them out. Winky had found that new wards kept her out since she had left Hogwarts the last time.

Walking up to the line, he stuffed down the urge to run the other way. The last thing he wanted to do was to face down the maze again, but he didn't have a choice. He may not want to be in the wizarding world anymore, but he wouldn't give up his magic.

He gave Hermione one more look before he took out his wand and stared into the dark abyss of the maze.

"Harry Potter has come equipped today with some unknown dragon hide armour that provides both front and back chest protection, and unlike the others, his arms and legs as well. I've never seen scales left on a dragon-hide armour before, and what breed has that colour green?" Bagman was saying.

Harry concentrated on his task. He just needed to get to the centre and back out again as fast as he could. He just wanted this nightmare over with…

-oOo-

In the stands…

Amelia watched the mirror that was broadcasting Potter's run through the maze. He had a ninety second head start, and from his sprint and the way he had already ran through one obstacle and then blasted a dugbog to pieces when he had come across a swampy stretch, that time may be a mile for the others to catch up. By the time Diggory entered the maze, Potter was already far into it.

As she watched him go, she realized that Harry Potter wasn't just a myth. At fourteen he was already outperforming the other champions. She was also coming to realize that the stories that she and her Aurors had collected about him in the last two weeks were not just stories. Most others may not have recognized it, but she had little doubt that the teen was wearing basilisk-hide armour, and with how much he was wearing, then the tales of it being more than thirty-feet long must be true. The vest was made from two pieces. The basilisks bred mostly in India and Pakistan to provide the world's supply of their potion parts and hides would have made the forearm guards and greaves from a single beast, but they never allowed them to get large enough to make a full set like the boy had.

Not to mention, the cost alone would have been prohibitive because of the rarity and the enhanced protection, which was greater than dragonhide. The forearm guards should have cost a few thousand galleons. He was wearing a fortune in armour, and he wasn't even fully grown yet.

Scrimgeour leaned over. "Amelia, he's doing better than most Aurors would."

"I know, Rufus."

By the time the cannon had gone off to let Delacour in, Potter was only a few turns away from the centre of the maze after encapsulating a horse sized acromantula in a block of ice. The other champions were much further back. At every intersection, he used his wand to point him in the direction of the cup and often cast detection spells ahead of himself to ensure the path was clear.

"Look at Potter go! I've never seen that method to stop an acromantula before!" Bagman said excitedly. The barmy git had gotten more into the action and excitable the closer Potter got to the centre. She was hoping that the reports he was running a betting ring with the goblins was not accurate, but it was looking increasingly likely.

"Oh, Delacour just put the three-headed dog to sleep. She looks to be doing much better than last time," Bagman commented. People were cheering as Potter rounded a corner. He was holding his side as he sprinted. The boy was pushing himself hard. It soon became obvious why as he was being chased by billywigs.

She cringed. The hell of the last two weeks had started with those little blighters.

As he ran into the clearing at the centre of the maze, his wand was casting the same freezing spell he had used on the acromantula. She watched, confused as to why he was encasing the cup in ice until she saw him grab it and then sprint out the other side of the clearing.

"Why didn't the boy just grab it and take the portkey here?" Scrimgeour questioned.

She pursed her lips as others seemed as confused. "Because he doesn't trust us," she commented.

Scrimgeour didn't look pleased. "What do you mean he doesn't trust us?"

"Rufus, have you seen the reports?"

"I've been trying to stay out of the Potter and Dumbledore case so that I can sit in judgement in my family seat. Why?" he asked.

She frowned. "Rufus, I nominated you to head the DMLE because of your abilities as an investigator and leader. Open the damned files and find out for yourself," she snapped at him. "You can still sit and vote as Head of the DMLE."

Rufus looked a little chastened. "Ok. I will, Amelia."

They watched Harry run by a confused Victor Krum who stopped to figure out why Potter was going the other way with a block of glowing ice. After shrugging his shoulders, the Durmstrang champion continued on.

Delacour made the centre of the maze about ten minutes later. She ran into the clearing and stopped, confusion clearly on her face that the podium was empty, but the task hadn't ended.

About the same time, a giant fireball lit the night sky not far from the entrance. Amelia turned to see that Potter had turned to incinerate the swarm of billywigs that had started to chase him again. He leaned over, heaving for air and obviously at the point of near exhaustion.

The stands were loudly cheering and trying to encourage him on. Delacour had taken off, looking for the cup and Diggory made it the empty clearing now. Krum ran out of another entrance. The two boys stared at each other. They couldn't hear what was being said, but they exchanged a few words.

The noise in the stands grew as they could all see Potter running again. He was coming down the last stretch. She could see him running towards the entrance. When he burst out, the students went wild.

She had to admit it had been impressive.

A band started up with a triumphant fanfare.

Potter, breathing heavily, just dropped the ice encased Triwizard Cup before putting his hands on his head and walking around while taking in deep breaths.

Before anyone could approach to congratulate him, a girl was pushing past the Aurors that were keeping others away from the maze to barrel into him. Potter stumbled back, wrapped his arms around her and then kissed her on the top of her head.

Amelia gave a little smile.

As much shite the teen had gone through, it looked like he had gained something good this year.

She stood up to make her way to the stage to present him with his winnings.

When he started to walk off towards the champions' tent, she cast her Aurors a look. The boy wouldn't be getting away that easily. He had earned this and so much more…

-oOo-

July 3, 1995

London, England

Hermione kept looking over her shoulder. Harry wasn't much better, and her parents were nervous enough that they had all been flagged by security and had their carry-on bags searched. Holding her ticket, she was pleased to hold it out and have the attendant at the gate nod her through.

Harry was just behind her and as he caught up, she held out her hand and he took it. Her parents joined them a few seconds later. They walked down the ramp towards the large Boeing 747 with the Air New Zealand logo on the nose.

"We are almost there," Harry whispered to her.

"Until we are in the air, I can't relax," she said. She had been wound like a violin string for weeks now.

They took up their seats in the front of the plane. Her parents had insisted that they didn't want to be crammed in like sardines for fourteen hours to Singapore. She couldn't complain about that as it meant they were shown into large, comfortable seats near the door. Finding room to put the small carry-on suitcases in the overhead compartment was easy, and her small backpack fit nicely in the spot just at her feet.

She gave Harry the window as he had never flown on a plane before, and she really was not a fan of heights. The only thing she didn't like was the large flat console between then, meaning she couldn't sidle up to his side.

Her parents sat before them and began to relax when a flight attendant gave them a glass of wine. She was still nervous though. Harry was looking out the window, obviously still on alert. She threaded her fingers between his.

They had had to sneak out of the school after the Aurors had forced Harry onto the stage and then McGonagall and Bones had forced them into guest rooms for the night. Luckily, Harry had taken the Marauder's map and his cloak with him just in case something like that happened. After sneaking them all to the secret passage behind the One-Eyed witch, they had made their way to Honeydukes and then used the portkey the goblins had made for them to get to a hotel just on the outskirts of the airport.

It had been four bleary-eyed travellers that had dropped off large suitcases at the ticket counter about 4:00 in the morning.

When the door to the cabin closed and the gangway pulled away from the side of the plane, her muscles started to relax. Harry's tight grip on her hand lessened.

Her mother turned around to see them. "I always like how London looks from the sky. I hope you like it too."

"I'm sure I will, Missus Granger. I've never flown like this before," Harry told her, still looking out the window.

"Well, just be thankful that you are up here. It can get a little uncomfortable in the back on such long flights," her father said.

"I'm looking forward to getting there," Harry told them.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure it will be great. We have a week to settle in before we go to see the other schools," she said a little excitedly.

Harry let a small smile come to his face. His shoulders dropped in relief as the plane began to back away from the terminal. She leaned over. "Did you see anyone?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

She let out a long breath, more tension leaving her body. When the sensation of her stomach dropping through the floor when the plane lifted off the ground passed, she pulled his hand up and kissed the back of it.

Harry leaned his head back into the seat and closed his eyes. "We did it," he said. When he opened them again to look at her, she noticed his eyes were blood shot.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" she asked concerned.

Harry gave a big yawn. It was the first time he looked relaxed in a while. "Not really. I haven't really slept in the last few days."

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Just take a nap then. We have a long ways to go."

He pulled her hand to his lips this time. "Sure, angel."

Her mother peaked over to check on them not long later. Harry's head was leaning towards Hermione's seat. She had leaned over the console and had her head on his shoulder with her legs curled up onto the seat. Her mother gave them a little smile and called a flight attendant over to get them some blankets.

The two looked relaxed for the first time since they had shown up on the Granger’s doorstep two weeks ago.

-oOo-

July 29, 1995

London, England

"Good morning, Amelia. How are you today?" John asked as he sat on the comfortable arm chair by the fireplace. In a month, they had gone from formal titles to first names.

She gave the man a wan smile. "Better than some days, worse than most. How about you, John?"

"Better than most," he agreed. "I was able to see my granddaughter last night, so that is always nice. How is your niece, Susan, right?"

Amelia gave him a warmer smile. "She is getting to be a young woman. She celebrates her fifteenth birthday next week."

"That is always a big milestone. Do you have a party planned for her?"

"I've been a little busy the last month," she replied. The man knew that. "One of our good family friends will be hosting a party for her and her friends. It's just fortunate that her best friend is also their daughter."

"I'm glad to hear that and I hope by next year things will have quieted down enough that you can host her sweet sixteen yourself," he said.

She fervently hoped so herself. She had missed enough important dates because of her job. "I do hope so. I was hoping to get directly to work today. Susan has asked if I would be available to go to a play with her tonight."

The man nodded and leaned forward to make himself some tea. He had a small stack of folders, meaning more work for her, next to the stack she had brought herself.

"Of course. I understand. Have you finally gotten the committee together to go over the proposed amendments to the Treaty of London?" he asked.

"I have been able to identify three lead negotiators that are willing to start the talks Monday, but I am having an issue getting all parties to the table," she told him, handing him a folder.

He frowned. "What's the hold up?"

"It's the language about inclusivity and trade deals. The goblins want a seat on the council and even the merfolk and centaurs are willing to be involved, but they refuse to work with the ministry and will only deal directly with your government. Many oppose it and that type of communication would be against the treaties we have with the International Confederation of Wizards. Our representatives are talking with them, but I'm afraid it could be months or more before we have a response," she said.

John sighed. "That is unacceptable, Amelia. What would happen if we were to talk with these groups directly?"

"You mean go around my people?"

"Exactly."

"I would not be able to keep the ICW at bay. This whole event has riled up the ICW council and there are some groups advocating for the takeover of the British Ministry for Magic and to put the Muggles into their place. I don't know if I can do anything but offer a token resistance if they call up most of their members for an expeditionary force," she honestly said.

John nodded. He reached for a folder halfway down his pile. "My intelligence says the same. The Queen is authorizing the formation of a special division made of those in the military that are low-magic, witches and wizards. I have a listing of more than three thousand that would serve under a special Crown reserve outside of the normal military."

Her mouth felt dry. She didn't think there had been that many Muggleborn that had gone through Hogwarts in the last few decades. Where did they all come from? "You want to go to war?"

He shook his head. "That is the last thing I want. Consider this a deterrent to give you the time to reorganize your ministry. I imagine that in years to come, the British Ministry for Magic will become a shining beacon that many others will emulate. I know that other World Leaders are interested in the model we are cultivating here."

Amelia knew she could do nothing to prevent this except run to the ICW now, and that wasn't really an option.

"I look forward to seeing how your military really works. I will admit, I don't know which department to put them under," she said, opening the folder.

"They will not report to you. At least not yet."

She only nodded.

"There is a lot of details that should be discussed between my Minister for Defence and your DMLE head. Shall I set up a meeting for Monday?"

"Send over the details," she said, knowing that Scrimgeour wouldn't be pleased.

"Excellent. Talking about your law enforcement, I know that you are looking for some missing children?"

She pursed her lips. "Yes. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. It has started somewhat of a panic that the Boy-Who-Lived has gone missing."

John frowned. "Are you really serious that an entire nation looks at a boy who is only fifteen as the messiah of your world for killing an evil wizard?"

"I never agreed with the hype, but if you could see the type of wizard he was this year, then you would understand," she said. Amelia may not like how their world saw Harry Potter, but she couldn't deny the legend that had been built around him or the place he held in their society.

"Amelia, having celebrity like that can be very hard on a young child, and to have someone that young be so revered is half of what my analysts say is wrong with your society. It seems that is how your leaders like Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Voldemort and even Fudge came to power and held it."

She pursed her lips. "John, you don't understand what it was like when Voldemort was on his rise. Entire families were being wiped out and the ministry would have fallen any day if Harry Potter hadn't defeated him."

"Excuse me, Amelia, but how does a fifteen-month-old child defeat a man that must have been at least a half century older?" he said in a disbelieving voice.

"If I had the answer, I would tell you, but what he did made him the icon of this generation, whether for good or ill," she said.

John sighed. "And that is why the queen is so worried. You idolize and raise people up to be near dictators, whether they want to be or not, and then you are surprised when they rebel and then your society tears them down to just install the next one. It's a cycle that has to stop, Amelia."

She bristled at the condemnation of her world. "It is not like that, John. Heroes have a special significance to magic. She chooses champions to take on the evil and they are often elevated and revered, like you say, but that is how magic works."

He clearly didn't believe her. "And a fifteen-month-old child is a hero for crapping in his nappies?"

"That fifteen-month-old child killed a Dark Lord and is still prophesized to do it again," she snapped, finally losing her cool after being torn down the whole meeting.

He regarded her for a long few minutes. "Dear God! You actually believe in prophecy, don't you?"

"Magic works in mysterious ways and when a prophecy becomes active, she finds a way to make it true or will kill the one that goes against it. It is a truth that the Unspeakables have been researching for hundreds of years. At fifteen-months-old Harry Potter became a child of prophecy. That was leaked to the Daily Prophet, and now everyone is demanding him back. To be frank, John, we have managed to capture the one known as Voldemort and need Harry Potter to fulfil his role," she said, giving out a state secret she would rather not, but knew she had too.

The man sat there. "I received a briefing from a few of the non-wizard raised the other day. They explained this and I didn't believe them. I still find this unbelievable. What exactly do you need this fifteen-year-old boy to do?"

She sighed this time. "He needs to kill the bastard."

"You cannot be serious! I refuse to have my government be part of raising child soldiers," the Prime Minister adamantly stated.

"Whether you want it or not, we essentially give them a deadly weapon on their eleventh birthday. Destiny has declared that Harry Potter must kill Voldemort, or the other way around. The ministry will keep up their search for him," she stated.

"Good luck. I don't get the sense that your ministry deals much in international diplomacy outside of the ICW and its narrow membership mostly in Western Europe," John told her.

She took a second to take in his retort. After a moment, she said, "You know where he is, don't you?"

"We do."

"Where?"

"I am not telling you. Not if your only intent to find him is to make him a soldier or to murder someone, even if it is a deserved execution," John said back.

"You don't understand. We have already tried to dispose of Voldemort, and everything we have done doesn't work. We need Harry Potter," she said.

He sat back in his seat. Not pleased with this conversation, he glared at her. "What if I provide other resources?"

"That will never be accepted by the Wizengamot," she said.

"I don't care. I will not violate our own laws and morality. I will contact our research departments and see what type of team I can get together for you by early next week," he told her.

"John, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but between the new military and the search for Potter, I think you will be setting off a rune bomb in Diagon Alley if you try to step into the direct affairs of the ministry," she told him.

"I don't care. Find a way to make this work. If you don't work with us, the new division will be used against you," he said with finality.

She knew that seeing Susan at her party next weekend just became a faint hope.

-oOo-

August 15, 1995

Christchurch, New Zealand

The Pier Lodge was only two blocks from the Pacific Ocean. Walking to the beach gave a view out to the horizon that was only salt water and sea birds flying on the thermals coming off the land. High clouds over head had partially masked the sun all day, and now that it was getting low, the mountains in the distance behind them were threatening to swallow what little light and warmth was left of the day.

In England, it was still summertime. In Christchurch, New Zealand, it was a chilly winter day that was promising near freezing temperatures tonight. Even with thick jackets, Hermione had wrapped his arms around her midsection and was pressing her back firmly against his chest to keep warm. Harry was leaning his chin on her shoulder to look out at the crashing waves. In a month and a half, he still hadn't gotten used to seeing so much water.

Sure, he had grown up on an island, but aside from that one time he got to see the angry North Sea from the light house, he had never really seen the ocean or just how big the world really was. Hermione leaned her head against his cheek. As though hearing his thoughts she commented, "Can you imagine what it must have been like to set out in an old sailing ship into the unknown?"

He chuckled. "Where did that thought come from?"

She nuzzled her cheek against his. "Four years ago, I stepped onto a train and was teleported to a strange new world. It was just like so many of the fantasy books I used to read. I always wanted an adventure, friends and to be somewhere different."

He kissed her cheek. "It was different."

"Let me finish. HARRY!" she squealed as he kissed her neck.

"Sorry to interrupt you."

"No, you aren't," she accused, pulling his arms tighter around her. "God, what I got was so much scarier than any book or movie. There were wonders. Dragons. Damsels in distress."

He whispered in her ear, "I was so afraid I had lost you under the lake."

She turned to kiss his cheek. "Are you saying I'm a helpless damsel?"

"No, but I did save you a few times," he said.

"You are lucky you are cute, Mister Potter," she said in a teasing tone.

"And I could do nothing less than save the beautiful angel in my arms," he told her.

She flushed a little. Before she could argue the point, Harry stiffened. She let his hands go as his wand fell into his hand. She stepped to his side to give them both room to move. A man and a woman were walking down the sand towards them. The necklace Harry had gifted her as part of their betrothal was growing warm, telling her that the strangers had magical foci on them.

Her thumb spun the ring on her left hand.

"Mister Potter?" the man called out.

As they got closer, she could make out that he had dark hair, hazel eyes and a strong chin. His hands were held up to indicate that he meant them no harm. She eyed the woman. The dirty blonde with dark blue eyes had a much harder look to her that made Hermione uneasy. She had seen that look on some of the older Aurors they had met.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, his wand coming up.

"Please, Mister Potter, we don't mean you any harm. I'm from the New Zealand Ministry for Magic. My name is Frank West," the man said.

"Where is your identification and who is that?" Hermione demanded.

"I'm not reaching for my wand. I need to get my wallet out," the man told them.

"And what about her?" Harry harshly demanded.

She gave them a nod. "I didn't believe the hype around you, kid, but there might be something. You can call me Marsha. I work for the Unspeakables."

Hermione felt a pit form in her stomach. "What do you want? We were told the ministry would only go through my parents or our lawyer," she said.

"I understand, Miss Granger. We would happily talk about this with your parents as well," Mister West said.

The man opened his wallet. Harry cautiously took it to look at the ID before handing it to her. "Why would someone from the International Magical Cooperation department and an Unspeakable want to talk to us?"

"That is a very good question. As beautiful as it is out here, it might be best if we talk about this in private," he said. "If you want to take us back to where you are staying, we can put up appropriate wards."

Harry shared a dubious look with her. Unlike the British wizards, the ones in New Zealand fit in perfectly with Muggles and most of them lived in Muggle areas and interacted with the mundane world on a daily basis.

She knew that Harry and her could probably take on more than most seventh years could, but she doubted they could escape an Unspeakable and a fully qualified ministry wizard. So far, the New Zealand ministry had been much more competent.

"Fine." Harry took her hand.

-oOo-

August 21, 1995

London, England

He had thought he was done with this. Hermione and him had gotten away. The New Zealand government had granted them asylum. The Muggle British government was in protest over this move, but a visit by a British Unspeakable had him back where he didn't want to be.

At least this time he was here with real support. Hermione walked next to him. The Doctors Grangers had refused to let him go alone. Six Aurors and four Unspeakables from New Zealand, not to mention a detachment of twenty British soldiers and four diplomats from the Muggle and normal world were with him as he was escorted into the ministry.

It had been quite a show to get them into a conference room to talk with Minister Bones and three of her Unspeakables. Now he was standing in a room with shelves and shelves of glowing or darkened orbs. Far more where lit with an eerie blue light than there were those that had turned dark and cloudy. Looking at the one tagged before him, he asked, "All you want is to hear it?"

"There may be more," the British Unspeakable that had called himself Croaker said.

"The deal is to ensure the real prophecy matches what your Dark Lord Dumbledore told you and then we decide on Mister Potter's path," Ambassador West stated.

Croaker didn't look pleased to be told what to do.

Harry picked up the glowing orb. He then touched the tip of his wand to the orb and channelled just a little bit of magic.

"BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES, THE ONE TO BRING BALANCE BETWEEN LIGHT AND DARK SHALL BE BORN… BORN TO THOSE THAT DEFIED TWO DARK LORDS, HE SHALL DEFANG ALL THOSE THAT FOLLOW OR THE WORLD SHALL DIE… ONE LORD OF LIGHT, ONE LORD OF DARK, BOTH DESTINED TO BE DARK, BROUGHT LOW BY THE GREY BETWEEN… NONE SHALL SURVIVE SHOULD THE BALANCE DIE BEFORE THE BABE BECOMES A MAN… BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES, THE ONE TO BRING BALANCE BETWEEN LIGHT AND DARK SHALL BE BORN."

"Is that the same prophecy?" Harry asked. The New Zealand Unspeakables didn't want him to know the prophecy that Dumbledore had told them in case it triggered a new one or became self-fulfilling.

"It is not, Mister Potter," Marsha said.

"So, I don't need to kill Riddle or Dumbledore?" he asked.

Mister Granger put a hand on his shoulder. "I refuse to make my son become a murderer."

"Mister Potter still has a destiny though. I admit that wording may not mean he has to kill anyone, but he has a key part to play," Croaker said.

"Codswallop," Marsh replied. "It only talks about the one in the prophesy bringing the Dark Lords down and bringing a balance. This can be ended today."

"I fail to see how," Croaker said.

"It only says they have to be 'low' and 'defang' their followers. If you try Dumbledore and he is sentenced to Azkaban, how much lower can you be? And you said that there is only one thing still anchoring Voldemort to this plane. Get that abomination out of my Harry and you make the man mortal again. As for 'defanging', finish the trials of the Death Eaters and arrest all those that helped Dumbledore," Hermione said next to him.

Marsha grinned.

Croaker blinked while Bones snorted. "It can’t be that simple," Bones said. “Harry doesn’t do anything that way to end this.”

"Harry is emancipated. He could take up his spot on the Wizengamot and vote for all their convictions," Hermione replied to the minister.

"I don't want to live here," Harry told her.

"Once done, name proxies or give up your titles," Hermione told him. They had been a little better educated in the last week on his place in British society.

"Harry can't just leave like that," Bones said.

"Minister Bones, Mister Potter has claimed asylum in New Zealand. He is here under diplomatic immunity. Are you saying that you challenge that?" Ambassador West enquired.

Another man stepped forward. "As the representative for the Prime Minister, we do not intent to stand in the way of Mister Potter going where ever he needs and will challenge any action the Ministry for Magic might take against him."

Bones was less than pleased but nodded her head. "The Ministry for Magic will not contest Potter's desires."

-oOo-

November 1, 1995

London, England

Amelia picked up a jar with a billywig flying around in it. It was the last one that had caused so much ruckus in a small sleepy town known as Little Hangleton a little more than five months ago.

Next to the jar was a tumbler of whiskey and a half-full glass.

Sitting across from her was a grey-haired man in grey robes.

"Was Granger correct?" Amelia questioned.

Croaker took out a small globe filled with dark smoky wisps. "Over the weekend the Unspeakables in New Zealand separated Potter from the spirit infesting him. We threw Voldemort into the veil Monday morning. Gringotts confirmed the Gaunt vault is now dormant. The sphere went dark after Malfoy was sent through the veil just after his master," he said.

She watched the electric blue bug crawling over some banana slices. "We still have another fifteen trials to finish."

"That is true, but Potter's involvement in this is no longer required. Malfoy was the last of the Wizengamot members to lose their seats," Croaker said.

She nodded.

Nineteen families had been removed from the rolls and the Wizengamot still had to award twelve of them. The number would soon rise by two more when the seats of Potter and Black are vacated as well. Thirteen dark and eight light families had been stripped of their privilege to oversee their world. The destruction of their society as they knew it all because of the night the billywigs had Muggles jiggling all over the night sky. The corruption and Muggles had brought her world to its knees. The changes happening here were now being pushed to the ICW by other governments and she didn't know what their world would look like in a few years from now.

"Croaker, have you ever wondered what it would have been like if we had never been forced to hide from the Muggles? I'm coming to think the International Statute of Secrecy is harming us more than it is helping," she said, in a contemplative mood.

"I think you've had too much to drink, Ami," the older man said.

"I don't think I've had nearly enough." She sighed. "I will schedule an appointment with Major in the morning and let him know that Potter is free to go."

"We could drag this out a little more and try to convince him to stay," Croaker said.

She shook her head. "He's already peeved at us that he had to defer his new school until after this was done. Granger is refusing any advances to reactivate her family legacies unless we can get back everything stolen from her."

"I take it that is not possible?"

"If this had been brought to our attention forty years ago, maybe. By now, everything is scattered to the wind, the money is gone and two of the estates have been ploughed over by the muggles." She sighed. "Riddle, Fudge, Malfoy and Dumbledore played their games and lost. Because of it, we have all lost, but in some ways, I think we will come out better. I just fear that there won't be enough of our society left to continue on."

"Continuing on isn't the issue. My department has done multiple reports that the Muggleborn and Half-blood population has been steadily on the rise for decades. At one time, there was one Muggleborn for every ten with magical parents. Most magical families had two to four children. Since Grindelwald, that has reversed across much of Europe and those that follow the ICW mandates. There are now five or six Muggleborn to each born to a magical parent. Our population is growing again, but not because of the old families. Magic has made its choice, and it is not with those of us that cling to traditions. I think the Statute of Secrecy is extremely important, but we need to adapt to the more modern times as well," Croaker said.

She nodded and put the glass jar down to pick up her glass of whiskey. She hadn't drunk nearly enough. Especially considering that tomorrow she was going to oversee the trial of a woman she had once thought infallible. Dumbledore had brought as many people down with him as had Voldemort, and McGonagall had been the deputy and co-conspirator for all the ills at Hogwarts in the last few decades.

She downed the whiskey and then poured herself more.

-oOo-

December 31, 1995

Christchurch, New Zealand

Harry leaned against the counter of the kitchen. He had been asked to dress nicely as he was going out to a party tonight with the Grangers. It may have only been a few months, but Harry's celebrity had even carried over this distance. This time though Harry didn't mind as much.

The Doctors Grangers had made friends with Ambassador West because of Harry, and they had been invited to a ball at the ministry in Auckland.

He had been told not to expect much for dinner, so he was eating a sandwich, making sure he wasn't getting anything on his shirt or cummerbund. It was the first time he had worn a tuxedo.

"Come on, Helen. This portkey thing is supposed to leave in about ten minutes," Mister Granger yelled out as he walked into the kitchen of the house they had found. He was buttoning up his cuffs. Looking at Harry licking his fingers, the man shook his head. "I was always warned that a teen would eat you out of house and home. I never thought it true."

A year ago, he would have felt guilty. He was leaving the Dursleys behind and his mind healer was helping him. "I was hungry," he said.

Mr Granger chuckled. "Harry, you know we would never keep food from you. Make sure you don't have any crumbs on you and then get your jacket on."

Harry did as told. After getting the black jacket on, Mr Granger made sure it was buttoned and that the bow tie was straight.

"Your hair looks lovely, Hermione. Stop fussing over it," Mrs Granger said as she walked behind her daughter. Harry looked up to see her mum slapping Hermione's hand away from the fancy up do.

Harry just blinked.

With use of the time turner, Harry was now a lanky sixteen-year-old. Hermione was a well-developed seventeen-year-old. Because of this, the red dress with a sequin pattern was absolutely stunning on her. It highlighted her delectable bust, slightly wide hips, flat stomach from all their workouts, and an arse he couldn't get enough of.

She caught him standing perfectly still as her father adjusted his tie. His mouth was slightly open as his eyes devoured her. It made her a little flush, though she quickly took in his trim form as well. He was nearly fifteen centimetres taller than her now. Healthy eating, workouts and nutrition potions to fix other issues had made him into the hottest boy she had ever seen. In the tuxedo, it was obvious that his shoulders were broadening, his bottom was just as tight as his abs, and he was the picture of a teen on the verge of manhood. It didn't hurt that the scar that used to be on his head was no longer there, or that his intense green eyes were now clearly visible through his contacts. They were the envy of any girl as they only shown that intensely when they looked at her.

She had never felt beautiful before, but Harry made her feel like she was the only young woman in the world when he looked at her like that.

Helen and William shared a look. They had not been for this antiquated idea of betrothal when Hermione had approached them last Easter, but after seeing what Harry was like and how Hermione became a different person around Harry, they had to admit that this had been the best thing to save their daughter last school year.

Mr Granger cleared his throat. "What time does the portkey leave again?"

Hermione started. "Oh my god! What time is it?"

Harry stopped staring at Hermione's chest. "Shite!"

The adults both laughed at them. "We made sure there was plenty of time," Mr Granger said. "We still have eighteen minutes."

"But you said there were only ten minutes eight minutes ago," Hermione whinged.

Mrs Granger laughed. "It's an old trick your father used to use on me when we were first married to make sure I was ready on time. I want pictures of this."

Harry opened his arms. Hermione moved in. "Don't you dare mess up my hair or my makeup."

"Wouldn't dream of it, angel. You look wonderful tonight," he said with enough emotion to make her blush.

"You're rather dashing yourself," she said, straitening his lapel before pecking his lips.

Hermione enjoyed his arm wrapping around her waist, especially now that she had curves.

"Isn't Sirius coming with us?" Harry asked.

"He will meet us there. Now, smile and look like you like each other," Mrs Granger said. Harry chuckled while her daughter gave her mum an unimpressed look.

When the rope dropped them off at the ministry portkey hub, Harry grabbed Hermione to keep her from falling. In the last few weeks, he found that his tolerance of magical travel had gotten much better. His magic had gotten easier to control as well.

The Doctors Granger were luckily caught by Aurors waiting for guests.

"Kia ora. Are you here for the New Year's Gala?" a woman asked.

"Yes. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Doctor William and Helen Granger," Harry told the Auror. She checked a list.

"It's good to see you Mister Potter. Your party can head out, turn left and then go down to the hall to the main atrium," she said.

Harry held out his arm like the trainer in Ambassador West's staff had been teaching them. "Thank you, Auror Mishka."

He never thought he would willingly be doing anything like this. The last few months had been quite a growing experience as he had been forced to take up family responsibilities years before he should have. Part of that was to go to this gala to thank the ambassador for his help. Mr Granger had explained it as a PR thing. Unlike other politicians, though, Ambassador West had actually helped him, and Harry felt he owed the man this much.

Hermione couldn't keep her smile in as she walked to the atrium. Unlike in Britain, New Zealand didn't have their ministry in a cave. It was above ground in a large marble building near the Parliament Building. It was to signify that the wizards and Muggles were not as separated as in England and that they wouldn't hide under a rock, like most European wizards.

The hall was full of diplomats, dignitaries, politicians from the Council and other specially invited guests, like Harry. Hermione tightened her grip on his arm. "I thought the Yule Ball was fancy," she whispered.

Harry could only stare at the glamour and power in the room.

Her parents stepped up close to them, feeling just as out of their depth as the teens. Little did he realize that this would be a glimpse at his future as Harry and Hermione found their voice in helping the rest of the Wizarding World, or mainly Europe, come into the twenty-first century.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Ambassador West said, coming up to them. "I know this is a bit much, but after how you did in the Wizengamot, I thought this might be a treat for you."

"Ah, treat?" Harry said, his neck heating as his voice cracked.

The man gave him a grin. "I believe you said you wanted to change the world for the better? Mister Potter, Miss Granger," the man said, indicating the crowd, "this is how you can do that."

"When did I ever say that?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I think when you ranted to Minister Bones about how backwards everything was back in England," she commented.

"Oh, right… yeah… I didn't mean I had to do it," he said in a whisper back to her. He had had that rant when the woman had asked then to stay one last time before he left the ministry after convicting Malfoy.

"Harry, you don't have to do it today, but someday. I know you hate your fame, but what if… what if we could change things?" Hermione asked.

When her chocolate brown orbs found his, Harry knew he couldn't deny her this. She was looking at him pleadingly. With a soft a smile, he nodded. "Ambassador West, I assume you wanted to introduce us to people?"

The man gave them a wide smile. "Thought you would never ask. Give me a few years to train you up, and within a decade I can get you post back to England or France, and you can stick it to the ones that tried to stick it to you," he said with a gleam to his eyes.

For once, Harry didn't think he would mind being manipulated. Not when he knew it was coming and someday in the future, it would get him what he wanted?