If the Fates Allow

Chapter 24

Dum Spiro Spero

"A dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly."

(Pirates of the Caribbean)

This is just a nightmare, Spiro told himself, forcing his eyes shut. He was lying on the ground at a godforsaken place outside Athens. Several withering hornbeam trees were hanging their branches sadly, as though mourning the young man's death in advance.

It was dawn, the first rays of the sun painting the horizon yellow, orange and pink, but Spiro didn't see any of this beauty because he kept his eyes shut, fearing that if he looked up, he'd recognise that this wasn't a nightmare at all...

"Speak," commanded a high-pitched voice.

No nightmare then, Spiro thought sourly and opened his eyes just a bit to squint up at the thin but tall man towering above him in the circle of several other men, all clad in black cloaks and having their hoods pulled over their faces. Like an icy hand, fear clenched at the young wizard's heart as the tall man looked down at him, his eyes glowing red from the dark recesses of his hood. This man had shot some sort of spell at him; flattening him to the ground and making him wish it was just a dream from which he'd wake up soon.

No such luck...

"I... I have no idea... what you want from me..." Spiro muttered. Those ominous red eyes flared up inside the hood.

"You're lying," said the high-pitched voice.

"H...how could I, w...when I don't even know what's this... this is all about!" Spiro stammered.

"Oh, he doesn't know," said the owner of the high-pitched voice. Some of his companions forming the circle laughed. "So you don't know anything about the parchment you stole from my servants?"

"What... what parchment?" breathed the Greek wizard. Would this madness never end? Please?

"What parchment??? He really thinks I'm an idiot," said the tall man. "Crucio!"

Spiro felt pain beyond pain, torment beyond imagination... End it... end it, please, and I'll confess you about every parchment, even those I never stole!

"That hurt, didn't it?"

Spiro gritted his teeth, steeling himself not to answer this horrible man, whoever it was. However, deep down he already knew who it must be... he just didn't dare believe that the infamous Dark Lord would sink so low as to want something from him. Who was he, after all? Nobody. A member of the Circle of Hermes, that's true, but even Spiro was aware that he was quite a pathetic member. Up until now he hadn't managed to catch a single wrongdoer, but had involuntarily helped someone escape - someone Jason had been after. The memory of Jason's straight right still vividly lived in his memory. However, not even that straight right came close to the pain caused by the Cruciatus curse. During his training to be a proper Circle member Spiro had been warned about the Unforgivable Curses, but never in his wildest dreams had he expected the Cruciatus to be this horrible.

"I asked you something!" said the Dark Lord.

Spiro raised his head slightly to give his tormenter a defiant look.

"No? So be it." Shrugged Voldemort and beckoned to one of his groupies to step forward.

A slender figure approached Spiro and shouted in a harsh, but unmistakably female voice: "Crucio!"

Young Papafotiu writhed in the dirt, his whole body convulsing, his limbs flailing uncontrollably, and he heard himself screaming...

"That's enough for a while," said the Dark Lord. "We want him alive and sane, Bella. So," he turned to the unfortunate chap lying on the ground, "have you changed your mind?"

"About what?" growled Spiro. "I don't know what parchment you're looking for!"

"No?" the red eyes glinted in an amused sort of way. "Are you telling me you have never been to Atlantis and never fought my Death Eaters?"

"Er... boss, I'm mean, My Lord," said someone in a small voice.

"What?" Voldemort barked.

"Er... My Lord, I was one of those you sent to Atlantis... and the bloke we fought... he didn't look a thing like this one does."

"Yeah, he looked different," added another Death Eater who had also taken part in the Atlantis-mission.

"He might have disguised himself," commented Bellatrix.

"Yes, disguised himself... or..." Voldemort's voice trailed off, "...or that someone who stole the parchment in Atlantis merely used his name," he pointed at the quivering Spiro.

"U... used his name?" stammered Macnair. "That means we've been looking for the wrong person for ten months?"

"Could be," grunted the Dark Lord. "Tell me, Spiridon Papafotiu, do you know someone... anyone who was likely to use your name?"

"Yeah... I think I know someone who loves using other's names... he might have used mine, too," Spiro said, "but you can't find him, for he's dead."

"Dead?" Voldemort scowled. "Who was it, then?"

"I suspect Harry Potter," replied Spiro. He felt delighted to be able to tell the Dark Lord bad news. Even if he were to die here, the Dark Lord would at least never get the parchment he was so arduously looking for.

"Harry Potter..." whispered Voldemort. "That's typical... that little fool keeps thwarting me... How come," he turned to those two Death Eaters who had mentioned Atlantis, "that you didn't recognise Harry Potter from his infamous scar? And what about his glasses?"

"Oh yeah, he indeed had glasses. But his scar... Er..." the Death Eaters exchanged confused looks. "He... he didn't have it, My Lord. We would've noticed it if he had it..."

"Are you sure?" Voldemort asked sarcastically. "To me it seems you wouldn't notice a troll if it started ballet dancing in front of your eyes!"

Slowly he turned back to Spiro, and Spiro closed his eyes, bracing himself for the next Cruciatus that never came. Instead, he felt something peculiar... pictures flashed through his mind... Am I seeing them because I'm dying? he wondered. If only Leto would notice I've gone missing, she'd be able to find me with the Tracking Charm... but no; she's in the Headquarters, nursing her little bastard from Jason... Oh sis, oh sis, why did you let that buffoon knock you up?

While he thought this, more and more pictures kept running through his mind: he saw himself playing with his little sister in front of a pretty white fisherman's house. In the background the wind rippled the sea's surface, while seagulls kept diving in the water and reappeared with little fish in their beaks... A few years older Leto was fondling a kneazle while Spiro himself was exercising jinxes and accidentally set the thatched roof of the fisherman's house on fire... He and his sister were standing on either side of Nausika, who was showing them the Book of Athena, explaining its properties... his sister was chucking an ancient Greek vase at him, while clutching her bulging belly...

By the time Spiro realised what Voldemort was doing to him, it was too late.

"Your thoughts betray you," murmured Voldemort. "Your feelings are strong, especially for your... sister. So you have a sister... and she has a little baby... Hmmmm..."

"Don't you dare hurt them, you evil, foul..." Spiro burst out and heaved himself into a sitting position, though it required a great deal of effort from him.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to hurt them, now would I?" cackled Voldemort.

"What are you laughing at? Potter's dead, and he took his secret about your damn parchment into the grave! You'll never have it!"

"Perhaps I still will," said the Dark Lord calmly. "What I saw inside your head... wasn't that the Book of Athena?"

Spiro's eyes widened. How could he let this evil creature get a glimpse of the Circle's life? He felt like kicking himself, but in his current state he couldn't even stand up, let alone kick.

"You will get that book for me," Voldemort said.

"No I won't!"

"Yes, you will... but not right now. I'll let you heal... By the way..." He turned to his minions. "...this little capturing-and-torturing adventure has worn me out... I need a new dose of blood."

"Shall we Apparate home then, My Lord?" asked Bellatrix.

"No, it's not necessary, Bella." Voldemort shook his head. "We'd have to take this pathetic fellow with us, too, if we went home, and he'd only be a burden. Besides, I've never been to Greece before... I'd rather go and lie down on a beach, sunbathe and drink Cola with ice-cubes..."

The Death Eaters looked at each other in horror.

"Don't you understand a simple joke?" Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"Oh..." the Death Eaters said, and forced out some laughs.

"You go home, Bella, and bring me a dose of Amrita's blood."

"As you wish, My Lord," replied the female Death Eater and Disapparated.

* * * * *

"You know that I could report you to the Aurors for this," said Arthur Weasley.

"I know." Draco nodded. Inexplicably to him, he felt light - as light as a feather. He had told the whole blackmailing story to his father-in-law, and now he felt like a great weight was taken off his mind. He didn't even understand why he had told everything to Arthur, he only knew that it felt good to tell it to someone, even if that someone was now scowling at him, his eyes flaring with fury. Well, Draco totally understood Mr Weasley; he'd feel just as angry if it had been his daughter who had had to go through all this... "And... will you?"

Mr Weasley regarded him with a piercing stare, then shook his head. "No, I won't. I should, of course, but what would it change if you got put into Azkaban? Nothing. It wouldn't change the fact that my daughter suffered for six whole years as your wife, and that your eagerness to catch her and force her back into slavery resulted in Harry's death. The past cannot be changed, Draco."

The young man nodded, a rather nasty feeling building in his chest. He had only felt this on a couple of occasions; the first time had been when he'd sneaked out of Nikias' pension, leaving the sleeping Phaedra behind. Sometimes he wondered what Phaedra had thought of him after he'd left... she must have hated him as much as Ginny had.

Yes, Draco Malfoy had pangs of remorse again. He didn't know why he started to feel it now when he hadn't felt anything of the sort before - he had done many evil things and yet he hadn't felt sorry after any of them... Why now, then?

As he thought back on the moment when it had hit him that he must have killed Arthur Weasley, he realised that this must have done it all. The shock of it had somehow unhinged something in him, broken through a dam in his soul... and he realised that he had a soul, after all. It was a weird feeling to feel...

"Could I... could I make up for it... somehow?"

"I doubt if you could," Arthur replied coldly. "You've caused too much damage already, way too much to repair... You've totally ruined Ginny's life."

"I know," sighed the young wizard, staring at one point on Mr Weasley's desk, not feeling strong enough to look up and meet his father-in-law's stare. "And I never realised this till... till now. When she left me - again. You know that when she left with Potter, she went after The Fates, but now... now she just left, not with a particular intention like last time, but... to be free from me."

"I just wonder," said Arthur, "how she built up the courage to leave you when she thought I was still under the effect of that evil curse?"

"Well, I... I think you aren't under the effect of that curse anymore. She wouldn't have left if you were... she loves you too much for that."

Certainly Draco had put two and two together after seeing his father-in-law alive: Ginny must have known that the curse was broken, otherwise she wouldn't have left.

"Do you think so?"

"Yeah, I do," drawled Draco, hoping that Mr Weasley wouldn't ask him about ever trying to cut his hair. That was something he hadn't confessed to Arthur and he didn't ever intend to. After all, being sentenced to prison for a couple of months for blackmail was different from being sentenced to prison for several years for attempted murder...

"I hope you don't want to go looking for her again."

"No." Young Malfoy shook his head. "Over the night I realised things, and... and I don't want to go after her. I'm going to divorce her when she sends me the divorce papers, and I'll leave her alone."

"You know, if I wasn't sure it was you, I'd think you were a stranger who had drunk Polyjuice Potion to assume your form," said Arthur, peering at his son-in-law over the top of his glasses. "You are talking as though you... loved her."

"That's the weirdest thing of all," said Draco with a frown. "I just realised that I never really loved her. I thought I did, but... all I felt was the desire to have her, the desire for possession... She was such a pretty girl back in school, and I had been taught to get what I wanted to use whatever means to get it... I was a good student of my father. I wanted Ginny, for she was beautiful and she was Potter's girlfriend. I wanted to add her to my possessions, and I wanted to hurt Potter. So I did. Up till now I've mistaken love for desire... I thought I loved her, but I didn't. I thought she was the perfect match for me, because she was pretty and a Malfoy had to have a pretty wife... but it was the worst match imaginable. It made both of us miserable - yes, even me, though I tried to suppress the thought, tried to convince myself that I was happy as long as I kept Ginny in my power... But no..." he sighed. "I wasn't happy. I just hope she'll one day forgive me."

"If I were in her place, I wouldn't," said Arthur darkly.

"I wouldn't either," admitted Draco. "But Ginny has such a big heart... perhaps she'll forgive me. I won't give up hope that she will... someday."

Suddenly the door of Arthur's office burst open and the twins marched in.

"We have wonderful news..." began Fred, but as he caught a glimpse of his brother-in-law, he stopped in mid-sentence.

"Wonderful news?" Grimaced Draco. "You mean Ginny fleeing from me?"

"No," replied George. "But that's wonderful news, too... just not for you, Slytherin scum."

"Well then, what's the wonderful news?" asked Arthur.

"We're not telling it in front of him." Fred looked meaningfully at Draco.

"Is it in connection with Ginny? Because if it is, you can talk in front of him. He just confessed about some rather... interesting things."

"What sort of interesting things?" George crossed his arms, glaring at Draco through narrowed eyes.

"In a nutshell: my dear son-in-law here made Ginny marry him by blackmailing her, using an ancient Greek curse that would have killed me if Ginny hadn't complied."

"What?" George gasped.

"How dare you?" Fred's complexion turned ruby red with anger.

"Shut up, Weasel, what your father's just trying to tell you is that I regret it all. I feel terrible pangs of remorse, but don't expect me to start shedding tears and whipping myself to expiate, because you'd see me kissing Crabbe and Goyle senseless sooner than that."

"Heh, I'd like to see you snogging them..." Fred grinned, only to get a withering glance from his father. "Ehm, so, you realised what an asshole you've been?"

"So to say," grunted Draco.

"What if he's lying? What if he's just trying to get to us so that we'd tell him where Ginny's gone?" suggested George.

"I can assure you I'm not trying to deceive anyone now."

"Have you heard of crying 'wolf', Malfoy?" said George. "You've been deceiving people for so long that it'd be a wonder if anyone believed you now."

"Fine, don't believe me." Shrugged Draco, trying to look as nonchalant and superior as possible. However, deep down he knew that the Weasley boy was right; it was just beneath his Malfoy-dignity to admit it.

"We'll take your advice on this: we don't believe you," said Fred. "I hope the Wizengamot won't believe you, either."

"There won't be any Wizengamot," interjected Arthur.

"What? Why not?" Frowned Fred. "He deserves to be brought to trial and sentenced!"

"I said no," replied Mr Weasley quietly but determinedly. "The family's been through enough, Fred; a trial would only open old wounds. Also Ginny would have to be tracked down and brought to the court if there was a trial... and I don't want her to have to go through it. She's suffered enough. Remember, she just lost a baby."

"Well, that's exactly what we..." began George, then trailed off and squinted at Draco. "Are you sure we can talk in front of him? I don't trust him."

"Neither do I," answered their father, "but young Mr Malfoy here is in our hands. He's confessed too many things already, we know too much about his acts. He can't harm us, but we can harm him... don't you agree, Draco?"

"Of course I do, father-in-law," replied Draco with a forced smile.

"So, if he doesn't want his dirty linen washed in public, he has to do whatever we want him to do?" Fred wriggled his eyebrows. It was too good to be true...

"Really eloquent assessment of my situation, Weasel," grunted Draco. "So, what is that great news you refused to disclose in front of Big Bad Wolf-crying Draco?"

The twins exchanged a meaningful look. George nodded, and Fred spoke up: "Just an hour ago three elves came to our shop. They said they had worked for you." He looked at Draco. "But they had been set free by our sister before she fled. They said they came to us because they didn't know where Ginny was, and they didn't know how to find the Burrow either. They had wanted to tell Ginny something important, but they couldn't because this bastard here," he again looked at Draco, "went after Ginny and caused quite an upheaval. Fortunately our sis had enough composure to cast a charm that froze the elves and him," he looked at Draco once more with a belittling expression on his face.

"So, anyway," George took the sentence from his brother, "they said that by the time they woke up from the charm, Ginny had gone and they no longer had the chance to tell her that her baby was alive."

"What?" both Arthur and Draco gasped.

"The baby's alive," repeated Fred. "When he was born, he seemed to be stillborn and the elves hadn't noticed that he was breathing because all his life-functions were very slow. Then, when they took the baby out into the rain to bury him, he started to cry. Very likely the rain functioned as some sort of a cold shower, like when someone who's fainted gets a bucketful of water into his face... the little one awoke, he started to breathe properly and cried. The elves were so shocked that at first they didn't know what to do. Then they thought of Dobby."

"Dobby," Draco growled. For him Dobby was and would always be a traitorous little scumbag. But then again, his other three, freshly-freed elves were traitorous scumbags, too...

"Yes, Dobby," continued George. "They took the baby to Dobby, because they feared that if they brought him back to Ginny, this idiot here would kill him, just because he looks like Harry."

"Kill the baby?" Arthur arched an eyebrow at his son-in-law. "Did you threaten my daughter that you would kill her baby if it resembled Harry?"

"What if I did." Draco shrugged. "Does it change anything?"

"It doesn't," replied Mr Weasley, "but it's rather curious that you forgot to mention this little detail in your story."

If only you knew what other details I forgot to mention, thought Draco.

"Well, anyway, the problem is that Ginny has already left the country and she doesn't know that her child's alive. We can't even send her an owl telling her, because it was us who cast an owl-repelling charm on her, in case this bastard here wanted to track her down by sending her owls and following them," Fred concluded the story.

"Well, Draco." Arthur turned to the blond wizard. "Here's your big chance."

"My big chance for what?" Draco knitted his eyebrows.

"You said you hoped that Ginny would one day forgive you for everything you did to her. Find her. Find her and tell her that her baby's alive, and I'm sure she'll forgive you."

"But Dad! You can't let... him!" gasped Fred.

"As a great Muggle woman called Anne Frank once said, 'I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart'," replied Mr Weasley. "Yes, even him," he pointed at Draco. "Even he deserves a second chance. He ruined Ginny's life. It's time for him to put it right."

Draco regarded his father-in-law for a moment, then nodded. "I'll do my best, sir."

"Right then, we're coming, too," commented George.

"Yeah. We don't trust you, Malfoy," added Fred.

"As if I cared whether you trusted me or not." Draco rolled his eyes. "But all right, I'll somehow put up with you two. Do you have any idea where to begin our search?"

"Well," said George, "Athens, of course."

* * * * *

Peter Pettigrew stumbled to a chair in the Death Eater Headquarters and dropped himself into it. He was breathing heavily. He had escaped the Weasley boy and the Granger girl by a hair's breadth; he'd managed to shake them off in the crowd gathering in front of Flourish & Blott's where Gilderoy Lockhart had been signing his new book, Amazing Amnesiac.

He knew he couldn't have Disapparated as long as he was in Knockturn Alley, for that place was famous for being filled with splinch-jinxes. One could never know whether he would get splinched if he tried to Apparate/Disapparate in Knockturn Alley. So the only chance that had been left for Wormtail was to transform into a rat and run as fast as he could. Having left Knockturn Alley behind and turned into Diagon Alley, Peter could have Disapparated, but too much had been on his mind to think of the simplest possibility to escape... the number one thing on his mind being Amrita. Having made sure that the two youngsters were no longer following him, he had returned to Florean Fortescue's, only to not find Amrita there.

Now he was gasping for breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He wasn't gasping for breath because of the long and tiring run, but because of the shock of not finding the child where he'd left her.

He didn't even dare imagine what would happen if the Dark Lord returned and didn't find his granddaughter here...

"He'd kill me right away," he muttered, his eyes bulging with fear as he imagined the cruellest ways of Voldemort murdering him. "I'll go back to Diagon Alley. I'll go back... and I'll find her. She's surely there somewhere; perhaps she just got bored of waiting for me and went into the bookshop to see what that big crowd was there for... That must be it, she's surely strolling around in Diagon Alley, waiting for me... I've got to go back... but I need a better disguise this time... What... what to wear?" he kept muttering, wringing his hands. "If I... no... but why not? If... if I appeared there as a woman, no one would recognise me, would they?"

An hour later Peter Pettigrew was walking down Diagon Alley, wearing make-up and a blonde wig (that Macnair had worn for Halloween the previous year, pretending to be a Veela), sporting some frilly robes that he had charmed to be lilac, and he had also borrowed Bellatrix's fancy earrings. When he looked at his image in a shop window, he almost shouted in fright. He looked like a total idiot, but at least no one could tell that he was a Peter, for he rather looked like a Petra...

So Petra Pettigrew walked down Diagon Alley, looked into every shop, and even asked some people (in a rather high, mincing voice) whether they'd seen a little girl with curly, golden-blonde hair.

"That girl?" said Florean Fortesque, "oh yeah, I remember her. She left with a pretty young woman. No, I don't know where they went..."

Wormtail returned to the Death Eater Headquarters, feeling totally woebegone. To his greatest surprise he was more afraid for Amrita's well-being than his own health, although he knew that the latter would be in serious peril if Voldemort returned and leanred that the child was gone. His heart clenched at the thought that the woman who had lured Amrita with her could have been an evil witch who used children for experiments, or perhaps even sold them to slavers...

He broke out in tears.

Suddenly someone Apparated next to him with a loud crack.

Peter looked up to see Bellatrix leer down at him.

"What the heck are you wearing?" said the woman with a disgusted face. "Have you become a transvestite, Pettigrew? Female robes? Makeup? And what are you doing with my earrings???"

"Er... playing Bella Enchanted?"

* * * * *

Nausika Kondos turned into a dark alleyway, heading for the Circle of Hermes Headquarters. As she arrived at the little square with the fountain, she saw a figure sitting on the rim. As she approached it, the figure looked up and Nausika thought she'd die on the spot.

Impossible.

"P... Potter?" she breathed.

"Hello, Nausi." The young wizard nodded curtly. "Nice that you come, I've been waiting for a Circle member for over an hour to open this bloody door for me."

"But... how are you alive?" frowned the Chief-of-Circle.

"I thought you'd rather say 'what makes you think that I'll open the door for you'?" replied Harry with a grin. He couldn't help it; he just loved to tease the Chief. "Anyway, it's a long story and I have no time to tell you now. I'm here to warn Spiro. Voldemort's after him."

"How... how'd you know?"

"Visions," Harry shrugged.

"Oh." She nodded. After joining the Circle Harry had told her quite a lot about his past with all the nightmares of the Dark Lord. "But I thought you'd learnt Occlumency well enough to close these visions out..."

"I thought so too, but obviously I was wrong. I really have to warn him, Nausi. And you know... I'd like to see Phaedra."

The Chief pursed her lower lip, looking contemplative. "How do I know you're the real Harry Potter? For all I know he's dead. This could be a trap to let you into the Headquarters... perhaps you're just using Polyjuice..."

"And where would I have got Harry's hair if he's dead?" he asked back.

"Oh, true. But you know the number one rule of the Circle: don't trust anyone..."

"...but your pair," Harry finished the rule.

Nausika allowed herself a smile. "It's you then... Holy Zeus, am I glad you're not dead."

"Put the emotions aside and let's get in, shall we? You can hug me once we're inside."

"Dream on, Potter." She grimaced and pointed her wand at the fountain that stopped ejecting water, then placed her palm into the dent in the pool.

The hidden door to the Headquarters opened and they entered into the deserted entrance hall.

"So, what's first? Talking to Spiro or visiting Phaedra?" asked the Chief as the door closed behind them.

"Spiro first."

"Good. Always get over the bad things, then enjoy the good ones." Nausika smiled.

"Actually, I'm not sure it'll be an enjoyable experience to meet my wife," admitted Harry. "We weren't on exactly good terms when we last saw each other."

"Because of your daughter's death." The Chief nodded knowingly. "But you know things might change now."

"What makes you think so?"

A mysterious smile appeared on Nausika's face. "I'm not telling in advance, but you'll be pleasantly surprised."

Harry couldn't really imagine himself being pleasantly surprised by anything in connection with Phaedra. He had long realised that hooking up with her had been one of the greatest mistakes of his life. But then again, he had been young and deeply hurt when he'd met her... He'd just lost Ginny and got to know that Voldemort had used him as a mere stud to be able to blackmail him later... He had been weak. All his damn mistakes had come from his weaknesses... Perhaps Dumbledore had been right to say that he needed a spiritual support, for he was weak and instable alone. He could play Harry Potter, the Superhero, he could be invulnerable on the outside, but inside he was vulnerable. He just hoped he'd have the strength to do the right thing when the time came... he hoped he'd have a chance to use the powers given to him by Hades...

Hades had conjured a little door into the air and opened it for Harry - beyond the door Harry had seen the cobble-stoned streets of wizarding Athens. Before he could step through that door and leave the Underworld behind, Hades had told him with a grin: "Good luck, boy, and make sure I never see that bastard!"

"I'll do my best," Harry had said and left the netherworld through the door, leaving a part of his heart there - his family, many of his friends... But he knew the future needed him, the living had greater need of him than the dead.

He knocked on Spiro's door. No answer came. He squinted at Nausika, who shrugged.

"Spiro, are you in there?" she called, but still no answer came. "Alohomora!"

They entered the young wizard's room to find it empty.

Harry had a very bad feeling...

They rushed to Leto's room where they'd found her cradling her little son in her arms - she almost dropped the baby when she caught a glimpse of Harry.

"G...ghost!" she gasped, all the blood running out of her face.

"No Leto, he's alive," replied Nausika. "He's alive and has come to warn your brother that the Dark Lord is after him."

"The Dark Lord?" Leto paled even more. "But... w...what does he want from my brother?"

"Actually that's something I don't kn... Oooooh, but I know!" Harry slapped his forehead. How could he be so stupid not to think of it earlier? "Blimey, I think it's my fault... I registered myself in the Hotel Atlantis using his name and I stole a parchment from a couple of Death Eaters. They must have seen Spiro's name, and now they think he's got the parchment!"

"And do you have it?" Frowned the Chief.

"Nope. Burnt it for security reasons."

"Security reasons? What if the Death Eaters catch my brother and torture or even kill him just because you burnt that bloody parchment for security reasons?" shouted Leto. The baby in her arms started to cry.

"I don't know what will happen then... but I know what would have happened if Voldemort had got that parchment with the recipe of immortality," said Harry.

"The point is that we fear your brother might already be in danger," said Nausika. "He's not in his room, and..."

Leto hastily put the baby into his crib and snatched her Tracker out of a drawer.

"Well?"

Leto shook her head, tears of nervousness welling up in her eyes. "It's not working. This stupid thing can't show me where he is! This means he's either dead or..."

"...or someone highly skilled has severed the Tracking Charm connecting you two," replied Nausika.

"But... but... the Tracking Charm can't be severed!" Leto spluttered.

"I thought so too," interjected Harry. "But if he's really in Voldemort's hands... you don't know Voldemort, Leto. He's the greatest wizard on Earth... for the time being. I trust him to be able to disable a Tracking Charm."

Leto collapsed into an armchair and started to out-wail her baby.

"I'm sorry..." Harry sighed. "It's my fault..." again, he added in thought. It seemed that whenever he wanted to do something good, whenever he wanted to help someone, he ended up causing greater damage than the positive outcome of his acts would have been. He had only wanted to save Sirius, and had caused his death. He'd only wanted to console poor 'Cho', and he ended up providing Voldemort with a blood-supply. He'd only wanted to save Ginny from Voldemort's clutches, and had ended up getting Dumbledore killed. He'd only wanted to catch a criminal, and instead caused his own daughter's death. He'd only wanted to help Ginny get to the Row of Gods incognito and prevent Voldemort from getting his desired recipe, only to get Spiro into trouble. Damn this 'saving people' attitude of his!

"I think you should go and see your wife, I'll try and console Leto," Nausika whispered to him, and he was more than glad to leave the room.

In a couple of minutes he arrived in front of the door to his onetime quarters. The name Potter still stood on a little plaque fixed to the door. He knocked.

The door creaked open to reveal a tired looking, but very pretty Phaedra. She had changed slightly since Harry had last seen her: for once her face and body were a bit rounder, as though she had gained ten kilos.

"Er... hello, Phaedra."

Her knees buckled and he had to catch her. "Are you all right?"

"All right?" she gasped. "All right, you're asking me? I saw you die and now you knock on my door?" She threw his hands off her arms, whipped out her wand and pointed it at him. "This must be a trick. You... you can't be real!"

"Believe me, I am. I never died, Phaedra. It's true that I spent the last ten months in the Underworld, but I wasn't dead."

Her eyes bulging, she backed away from him. "Who - are - you?"

"I thought this wouldn't be easy," he sighed. "But it's really me, Phaedra."

"Hah, of course!" she snapped, the wand trembling in her hand. "You were in the Underworld for ten months! And what did you do there, eh? Play Exploding Snap with Hades?"

"No, actually I played Seeker for Elysium, but..."

She started to laugh in a sarcastic, cold voice. "Playing Seeker for Elysium? Are you taking me for a complete fool?"

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. He couldn't blame her for not believing him...

This little move was what really startled her. Her mouth hanging open, she started to scrutinise his face, especially his eyes. "I can't believe it... Harry?"

He nodded.

"Oh, Harry!" She threw herself into his arms.

"In case you want more proof that it's me... you have a Gorgon-head tattoo on your..."

"Harry!" She boxed into his chest, half-crying, half-laughing. "I can't believe I have you back."

"Actually, Phaedra..." he heaved a sigh. After such an enthusiastic greeting, it would be even harder for him to come up with the suggestion of divorce. Before he could carry on, there was a baby-cry.

Has Leto left her room? he wondered. However, as the crying continued, it became obvious for him that it wasn't coming from up the corridor, but from the inner room of the Potter quarters.

Phaedra started chewing her lower lip. "Um... there's something I've got to tell you."

"Yeah, I also think there is." He nodded.

With a sigh she headed for the adjacent room and he followed.

This room had once belonged to Daphne, but next to her little bed now a crib stood in the middle of the room - the same crib Daffy had slept in when she'd been a baby. Its lacy pink hangings were drawn back to reveal an angelic little girl whose tiny face was screwed up as she cried. She had black hair, but her skin was unusually pale for a baby with at least one Mediterranean parent. She couldn't be older than three weeks.

So that was why Phaedra had gained some weight... she'd only recently given birth... And that was what Nausika had described as a 'pleasant surprise'. Obviously Nausika had thought the baby to be Harry's. However, he knew the baby couldn't have been his, for he hadn't been intimate with his wife for at least four months before Daphne's death.

"She's beautiful," he said, "takes after her mother. Who's the proud father, by the way?"

Phaedra gulped and looked up at him. "Draco Malfoy."