The Lord of the Stone

The sun was high in the sky when Hermione and Sirius stopped for lunch just outside the busy Austrian city of Graz. It stood very close to the Alps, and Hermione could see a little blue ribbon trickling down from the mountains towards the city. The River Mur, or so Sirius said.

As Sirius had expected, getting through the Alps had been the easy part of the journey. For Muggles it would be no mean feat passing over nearly three hundred miles of mountain, but for Hermione and Sirius, with their wings and Animagus forms, it had posed little difficulty. The next stage of the journey would not be easy, however. They were passing through heavily occupied Death Eater territory to the Hungarian border.

Hungary would not be an easy task, either. Because of the fierce nature of dragons in the country, the wizarding population was relatively low. Death Eaters had long tried in vain to tame dragons, werewolves and vampires. Romania, beyond Hungary, was avoided to an even greater extent.

'So what am I actually supposed to do if I make it through the Middle East alive?'

Sirius sighed. 'If my calculations are correct, the Dark Lord probably already knows where Harry is in India, even if he cannot get to him yet.'

'So I might have to follow some Death Eaters?'

'Or become one. No, no,' he added, seeing Hermione's horrified look. 'Just put on the uniform, I mean. There are bound to be a good few of them around the area. I wouldn't be terribly surprised if you ran into Draco Malfoy again at some point.'

Hermione shivered. 'That's the last thing I want. You think Voldemort might send him after Harry Potter?' Sirius considered this for a minute.

'Put it this way ... in Voldemort's eyes, Harry could well be the only wizard on the planet with enough power - even if he doesn't know it yet - to defeat him. He is going to put all his effort into finding him, and will probably send along some of his strongest followers.'

'Sirius,' Hermione asked, wanting to ask something she'd been wondering for days. 'What will happen to Harry if the Dark Lord gets to him first?'

This time Sirius said nothing for a long time. He looked up at the blue sky and sighed.

'I'm not really in a position to say, not knowing how Voldemort organises his forces ... however; the way I see it he has two options. He can kill Harry, and be rid of him. Or...' He swallowed again, looking reluctant to continue. 'He could recruit Harry. Train him to be a Death Eater.'

Hermione put her hand over her mouth. 'But then, they'd ... he'd be...'

'Unstoppable. I know. Harry's father was my best friend, Hermione, and if Harry's anything like James was then he is a very powerful wizard indeed. Couple with this the fact that he remains the Boy Who Lived...'

Hermione nodded sadly, and then looked up at Sirius curiously. 'What ... what was it like after that, Sirius?' Having been raised as a Muggle she knew hardly any wizarding history... she had not had much chance to learn it, despite being a passionate reader. She did not realise the mistake she had made in her question until it was too late. Sirius had a very deadened look in his eyes. 'Oh, Sirius, I didn't mean Azkaban...'

Sirius gave her a brief smile. 'I know,' he said. 'You mean the wizarding world in general.' Hermione nodded. 'It was a time of joy for nearly everyone ... few people were adversely affected. There were a few, though ...'

Hermione remained silent, willing Sirius to go on. He rarely spoke about the past, before Azkaban. Whenever he did, he spoke as if the time only existed in dreams ... as though it had never really occurred.

'Voldemort, for one, fell. That took a great weight off everybody's hearts... however, I feel I was affected very much too. I realised the extent of my mistake... what I'd done...' Hermione looked nonplussed.

'You already know that Remus, Peter and I were James' best friends. See - it wasn't a coincidence that Voldemort went after him and Lily. They were a threat. Together, they were powerful. So, Dumbledore convinced them to go into hiding with the Fidelius charm ... which I think you may know of, as there's one cast on both of us.' Hermione nodded.

'Well, they had to have a Secret-Keeper, so ...'

'They chose Peter,' Hermione finished.

'No,' said Sirius. 'They chose me. I was closest to them, after all. But then I made the most foolish mistake...' Sirius seemed to be holding back tears. 'I convinced them to change to Peter, to trick the Dark Lord. Confuse him. Although we liked Peter very much, he was not the brightest star in the universe. Tricked all of us in the end, though,' he added bitterly.

'The rest you can work out for yourself. Peter gave Voldemort the Potters ... Voldemort fell... and I was placed in Azkaban. Only Lily, James and Peter knew that I had switched the responsibility of Secret-Keeper...'

'What about Remus?' Hermione asked.

'That's the thing,' Sirius said. 'Dumbledore convinced Lily and James to hide because he had an inkling someone close to them was a spy. We assumed that it was Remus, because he travelled so much ... he even studied the Dark Arts. But afterwards it became clear that we should have trusted him ... after all we'd been through together...'

'One more thing,' Hermione said. Her brain was still absorbing all of the new information. 'If I piece this together right, that is ... how did Peter manage to blow up that street of Muggles?'

'Dark magic,' Sirius replied sadly. 'You see the terrible effects it has. Well, that was that, as far as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was concerned. Dumbledore testified that I'd been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, and I was sent off to Azkaban.'

Hermione looked carefully at Sirius. She thought that she had suffered a lot in her life, but it was nothing compared to what he'd been through.

'Sirius,' she said. 'You say that Cloak was James' ... how did you get it?'

'Dumbledore,' said Sirius slowly. 'Even after his death he was able to help me...'

'What? How?'

'He still exists in this world, as a ghost. I do not know where he wanders, but wander he will until his work is completed. He told me where I could find that Invisibility Cloak ... he appeared to me shortly after Peter ... reappeared...'

'Has he only ever appeared to you once?'

Sirius did not answer. Sensing that she had pried enough into his business for one day, Hermione remained quiet as well.

She began to understand a little more why Sirius hated Peter so bitterly. Hermione wondered vaguely where he was now ... and whether he had been punished... after all, the Dark Lord had fallen on Peter's information...

'The quicker we get to the border, the better, I think,' said Sirius suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. He looked a little tense, and Hermione sensed this was a result of remembering the past. 'The Death Eaters tend to up the surveillance at night. Besides, we could pass as Muggle travellers by day ... I have some hooded cloaks in my bag.'

'Let's just hope we don't run into anyone who might recognise us,' Hermione said, giving Sirius a look as she hoisted her bag onto her back.

*

They travelled cautiously for the next stage of the journey. They were about fifty miles from the border, if that, but there was more evidence of Death Eaters around. They crossed a good deal of farmland but stuck close to the road. At lunch they had decided to make for the border beyond the small town of Fürstenfeld via Gleisdorf.

Now that they were off the mountains it was a good deal warmer. They could still see the Alps rising from the ground behind them. Sirius knew a fair bit about Austria, having operated in and out of it for years. The region they were now in, part of Lower Austria (the province of Steiermark) had the most agricultural enterprises. Little did you need to be told this, however. Huge fields of crops stretched away from them in many directions. Sirius smiled as he looked to the horizon. He'd had some contact with Muggles here before the deaths of Lily and James.

He had not been back until about five years ago, not long after escaping Azkaban. By that time, though, he had the added responsibility of looking after Hermione. It was a very pretty country, Austria... so were all the Alpine states, in Sirius' eyes. It was a shame he rarely had time to appreciate a place's beauty before he was on the move again...

Still, he thought, it could be worse. He cast a sideward glance at Hermione, who had pulled out the map and was studying it intently. At least I have something to be proud of.

***

India

'Harry? Harry? Come on, get up!' Harry Johnson blinked and opened his eyes. He grinned when he saw the face of his older brother looking back into his.

'Bastard,' he said, pulling off his covers. 'What's the special occasion?'

Tom Johnson looked back at him, blue eyes glittering. There was little physical resemblance between the two, because in truth they were not biological brothers. They got on a lot better than most real siblings, though.

'No special occasion. Just thought you were being a lazy git.'

'Me a lazy git?' said Harry, sitting up. 'So, what was all that business about last week?' Tom rolled his eyes.

'Completely different situation,' he said, as Harry reached for his glasses. As Harry pushed back his fringe, Tom got a brief glimpse of the curious scar on his brother's forehead. He glanced at his brother concernedly. 'By the way, Harry -' His voice assumed a more serious tone. 'You're not still seeing that vision, are you?'

Harry stiffened. He knew that his real parents had died long ago in a car accident and occasionally had visions of their death. Nightmares. It was very unpleasant, but he had almost learned to live with it.

'Less than I used to,' Harry admitted. 'Anyway, is there anything nice for breakfast?'

'Hungry, huh? Yeah, I think Louise is making some bread.'

Harry showered, dressed and made his way down to the kitchen. The Johnson household was large ... Tom Johnson Senior was a very rich man. Up until seven years ago, though, he had been comparatively poor, raising three children just outside London. After his uncle Francis had died, leaving him everything, Tom and his family had moved to India to claim the fortune.

Tom's wife Margaret had died giving birth to Louise in 1977. For some reason - and no one really knew why - Tom had adopted Harry six years later. Harry's guardians, the Dursley family (his mother's sister's family), had died in a car accident.

Harry entered the dining room in high spirits. It was the beginning of a school holiday, and life was good. He wished his sister a good morning and took a seat at the large wooden table.

The kitchen was filled with a great number of curiosities. Tom's Uncle Francis, the former owner of the place, had been very interested in Indian literature, amongst other things. He also had quite an extensive collection of weaponry from various wars. Most of the weapons, surprisingly, were relics of the Boer war between the British and South Africans. Francis' father had fought in the conflict bravely, but had disappeared without a trace. He never returned to Britain and was consequently assumed dead.

Somehow, Francis had procured these things. The most intriguing was an assegai snatched from one of the Zulu warriors. The spear, nearly six feet tall, had evidently been crafted for one of the tallest and strongest fighters.

Harry took a seat at the table and picked up the paper. It wasn't hard getting hold of the English papers in India, through a contact of Tom's. Harry whistled as he unfolded The Guardian, but quickly stopped when he read the banner headline.

Bitter struggle in Middle East worsens.

Harry sighed and turned to page two. There was a long, grave report on the war troubles in the Middle East.

The war between Iran, Pakistan and Afghanistan took a turn for the worse in the early hours of this morning. Pakistani rebels launched an attack on the Iranian city of Kerman, not far from the Afghanistan border. The Afghans themselves are thought to be amassing in the city of Kandahar. Kerman was not well defended, and as a consequence many innocent women and children were slaughtered. The Iranian leader, Kasar Sharaq, issued a statement soon after claiming that the attack was heinous and that Iran would respond swiftly.

Harry briefly stopped reading and sighed again. The conflict in the Middle East had been going on for months. It was steadily worsening, too; Sharaq had threatened mass retaliation. He read on.

There are unconfirmed rumours spreading that Sharaq has authorised the development of nuclear weapons at several warfare factories in Iran. Nuclear power always has been a lingering fear since the terrible destruction in Nagasaki and Hiroshima at the end of the Second World War. The Afghans and Pakistanis, however, do not have the current resources to fund such operations. The threat of nuclear war prevents them from making any major attacks.

Harry stopped reading and put the paper down. Any major attacks? he thought. There's nothing much bigger than attacking innocent women and children. With a final sigh, he rested his arms on the table just as his siblings came in.

'Morning, Louise,' Harry said politely as she passed him a plate. He took it gratefully and started to eat some of the bread Tommy had brought in. Louise and Harry referred to their brother as 'Tommy' because it saved other people from confusing him with their Dad.

'Morning, Harry,' Louise replied, taking a seat of her own. Tommy sat down too and took the paper Harry had been reading. He made quiet noises of disgust as his eyes scanned the page. 'What are you doing today?'

Harry shrugged. 'Sam and I thought we'd finish some schoolwork.' Samantha Prior was Harry's best friend. They both attended a school for English students run by an Irishman called John Harvey. It was rare to see one without the other.

Tommy looked up from his newspaper. 'Got some business to tend to with the missus, eh?' He grinned as Harry reddened. Louise and Tommy found great amusement in harassing their younger brother about his relationship with Sam. Unfortunately, Harry was not adept at dealing with such accusations.

'You know Sam and I aren't ... we've never ...' Harry stuttered slightly. He always got embarrassed, somehow, whenever he, Sam and romance were implied in the same sentence. He was saved from Louise's next remark when his Dad entered the room, looking cheerful.

Tom worked at the local museum. He had no real need to earn money, and so helped out doing something he enjoyed. Like his Uncle he was quite interesting in ancient artefacts - in fact, the museum had odd objects from across the globe.

'Morning everybody,' he said as he said down. Louise handed him a slice of bread. 'Thanks, Louise,' he said, taking a large bite. 'What's the latest news, Tom?' His son looked up, having gone back to his paper.

'Oh,' said Tommy. 'I was looking at the crossword, actually -'

'The main story's about the Middle East,' Harry interrupted, sounding unusually grave. Tom clucked his tongue.

'Shocking business, all that.' They all sat silently for a few minutes. Tom sighed. 'What's the clue you're on, Tom?'

'Uninterested, indifferent. Nine letters.'

'Apathetic,' said Harry, standing up and pushing his chair in. He grinned. 'Very challenging. Anyway, I'm off to Sam's. See you in a bit.'

'Amazing,' said Tommy, filling in the clue after Harry had left the house. 'How does he do that?'

'Probably hereditary,' said Louise inadvertently. There was an awkward silence. 'Oh, no, I didn't mean... I ...' Her father put up a hand to stop her.

'It's all right, Louise. I know perfectly well Harry's not my real son. But he is a part of the family now, and since your mother died...' Another silence. It was uncomfortable for Tom, talking about his wife. None of his children had ever really had the chance to get to know her. He sighed. He missed his wife now as much as he had just over twenty years ago, just after her death. Still, at least he had his children to find happiness in... be proud of...

Sighing again, he picked up his plate and began to eat.

*

Harry stepped out of the front door and closed it quietly behind him. He breathed in the fresh morning air and walked down the short driveway to the road. This was one of the nicer, richer areas of the city. He smiled as he looked over to the small garden Louise had created. She was unusually interesting in horticulture, and had a colourful variety of plants growing.

Sam lived on the other side of the small park near Harry's house. He spotted a group of young Indian boys playing cricket and smiled. He enjoyed sport very much, especially cricket and football. He and Tommy would often come down to the park with their friends for a kickabout or a game of cricket. It was as he drew nearer to the boys that he realised one of them was calling his name.

'Harry! Harry!' He turned to see a small, grinning boy holding a cricket bat. It was Rakesh, the younger brother of one of Harry's other friends. 'Fancy joining in?'

Harry returned the grin but shook his head. 'Sorry, 'Kesh, Sam and I have some work to do. Might speak to you in a bit, though.' Rakesh smiled, nodded, and bounded back in the direction of his friends. Harry chuckled and turned towards the far end of the park. Behind a large group of trees were several houses, one of which belonged to the Priors. He started to walk when a large apple whizzed past his ear. Harry jumped a foot into the air and looked around wildly. There was muffled giggling coming from somewhere...

Another apple came hurtling through the air, but this time Harry was ready. He caught it deftly with his left hand; he wasn't a cricket player for nothing. Laughing, he threw it towards a giggling rosebush to his left. With some satisfaction, he heard the bush emit a large, 'Ow!' as the apple found its target.

'Morning Sam,' said Harry amusedly, picking up the first apple and taking a bite out of it.

'Hiya,' said Sam, emerging from the bush. Harry snorted when he saw her; her usually pristine hair was covered in brambles, and the apple he'd thrown had left a rather nasty stain on her white top.

'Sorry about that,' said Harry, smiling.

'We'll make a cricket player of you yet, Johnson,' Sam replied, pushing her hair out of her eyes. 'However -' She glanced down at her shirt. 'Your unusual accuracy means I have to get changed. Come on.'

The two friends laughed as they walked together towards Sam's house. It was a warm day and birds were singing. Everything seemed perfect.

However, neither of them noticed the black figure stooped behind a tree in the distance. This person was eyeing the young blonde girl with interest, for she did not appear to be alone. And yet there was no one anywhere near her. Nobody visible, at any rate...

The man pulled a strip of wood from his pocket and removed his white mask. He muttered two or three words under his breath and pointed his wand towards the girl. And his eyes went round.

He could now see clearly that another figure had appeared. It was a boy, whose outline was very blurry. He was walking alongside her ... no longer hidden. And there was no mistaking the vivid green eyes ... or the thin, lightning bolt-shaped scar.

Harry Potter.

*

Austria

'Stupeficius!' Hermione cried. A blast of white light from her wand illuminated the surrounding glade. Several bodies hit the floor with a dull thump and Hermione got to her feet, breathing unsteadily. Her cloak had a slight tear in it, which she fixed with a small flick of her wand.

'Hermione?' She heard Sirius' voice not far off. She called back and he came into the small clearing, looking flustered. 'Are you all right?' He looked concerned in an almost parental sort of way. Hermione nodded, however.

'Just a bit shaken up. They gave me a hell of a fright.' She and Sirius were still in Austria, passing across fields and woodland towards the border. When they'd entered a small wood close to the town of Höf a group of Death Eaters had sprung an attack. How long the Death Eaters had been following them, if at all, Hermione and Sirius did not know. They hoped that the Dark Side was not alerted to their presence.

They proceeded on foot, and decided to risk entering Höf to rest briefly. Though it was possible to sleep as Animagi, they had more energy when travelling if they slept as humans.

'Besides,' Sirius said, looking over towards the smoking chimneys of the town. 'I used to know someone in these parts. Before Azkaban, obviously. A Muggle-born wizard called Alexander Gesser. He always said he preferred living as a Muggle, so I expect that's where we'll find him. Unless he was caught in the Purifying. But he was cleverer than that...'

The Purifying was the term used for the slaughter of Muggle-born witches and wizards after Lord Voldemort rose to power. Hermione hated the word, and refused to say it out loud. She hoped that this man Gesser had not been tracked down.

They headed down a grassy bank. The horizon stretched out for miles ahead of them. Green fields, with the occasional cluster of houses. Hermione looked southwards and saw Muggle vehicles speeding back along the Autobahn towards Graz, and the vast mountain range beyond it.

The sun had set by the time Sirius and Hermione reached the front door of Gesser's house. Sirius had noted with some satisfaction that the post box outside the house said 'Gesser' on the side. Unfortunately, nobody was answering the door.

'He's probably out, Sirius,' Hermione said reassuringly. 'The post box's a good sign.'

Sirius nodded. 'He wasn't really the sort to go out, though, if you know what I mean. He was more agoraphobic than antisocial. Only mildly agoraphobic, though; very good company inside his own home, or inside the Landesmuseum.'

'Sorry?'

'The Landesmuseum Joanneum in Graz. Alexander and I used to do some research there.'

Hermione nodded. That explained why Sirius knew the area so well. 'Well, we can't wait out here all night. Why don't we head for the small wood south of the town?'

'Good idea. They occasionally put the Death Eaters on watch at night. And the Muggle police are just as friendly.'

They headed out of the town. It was starting to get dark and lights were coming on in peoples' houses. Leaves swirled around the old cobbled street in the town centre as Hermione and Sirius passed through under the Invisibility Cloak.

It was when they reached the small wood that Hermione began to feel a slight prickling at the back of her neck. She could definitely sense a strange noise behind them, the low crunch of feet on the mossy undergrowth. Turning back, however, she saw nothing. A stray animal, she thought to herself. After all, she and Sirius were still covered by the Invisibility Cloak.

They entered a small grove and lit and fire. Sirius removed the Cloak and put it back into his pack.

'I'm going for a bit of a run,' said Sirius, before transforming into Padfoot once again. Hermione nodded and patted him before he bound away. She smiled to herself. Though she and Sirius were very close, he still found solace in a little detachment. Many of the things he kept bottled up - mostly to do with Azkaban - he would not share even with Hermione. There were times when he needed time alone to clear his head.

Hermione picked up her own bag and rummaged around in it briefly for some food. She withdrew a Chocolate Frog. Although they'd actually gone out of production six years ago, the Everlasting Bag she had had been designed over ten years ago. It occasionally generated products that no longer existed.

Hermione caught the Chocolate Frog before it could escape and popped it into her mouth, unwrapping the plastic and looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards Card. She smiled sadly when she saw it. It was a young boy - a baby, even. He had bright green eyes and was beaming for the camera.

Harry Potter

Despite having never appeared in the magical world, Harry Potter remains probably the most famous wizard of modern times. At the age of one he defeated the Dark Lord during an attack in which his parents James and Lily Potter (see cards #943 and #944 for details) were killed. Nothing is known of Mr Potter's current whereabouts though he is expected to start attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry within the next few years.

Hermione glanced at the photograph again. It was from before the time of Voldemort's defeat ... there was no scar on the baby's forehead. He was untainted.

She sighed and thrust the card into her pocket. She threw the packaging into the fire, where it crackled for a second before being reduced to ash. Hermione was about to check her bag again when she heard the noise from earlier on.

It was a soft rustling and crunching, as though something was approaching her very slowly and carefully. Heart rising in her chest, Hermione drew out her wand. She had a bad feeling, and her spine was starting to tingle.

A bush quivered behind her. Hermione spun around, heart pounding, and aimed her wand at it.

'Incendio!' she cried. The bush burst into flames and the leaves disintegrated. And from behind it came the most unlikely creature imaginable. Hermione drew back in alarm.

Into the clearing emerged a large beast, padding softly across the ground. Its head was that of an eagle but its body and hind legs the same as a lion's. Hermione stumbled as the magnificent creature approached her, taking in its surroundings.

'Hermione Granger.' It was a whisper, but Hermione knew that the griffin had said it. This caused her, however, to edge backwards further and slip over, for she had not realised griffins possessed the gift of speech.

'How - how do you speak our language?' The griffin's eyes pierced her own.

'I learnt your language long ago in the Ancient Land. My name is Gryffin. I have followed you for some time. You do not cover your tracks well.'

Hermione was unaware that she had started to shiver. 'Why should you be following us?' she asked.

'Because those were his orders,' said a voice from behind her. Heart in her throat and knowing what she was going to see, Hermione turned and found herself staring into the eyes of Draco Malfoy. 'Expelliarmus!' Hermione's wand soared into Draco's outstretched hand. He regarded her with amusement.

'Little did I expect to be seeing you again so soon, Hermione,' he said, running a hand through his silver-blond hair. 'However, Gryffin here has an incredible talent for finding lost ... treasures.' He took a step forward and smiled at the Griffin, his eyes flickering now and again onto Hermione.

'You're disgusting,' Hermione spat. 'I did nothing less to you than you to me.'

He flinched, and set his cold eyes on her. His gaze was hard, detached. 'That's what you think, is it? On the contrary, I perceive betrayal to be a crime far more heinous than ... manslaughter.' He hardly gave the shock time to register on Hermione's face. 'I heard the incantations,' he continued. 'But there is no use in being too attached to those ... close to you. Mother and Father died having served the Dark Arts faithfully. Their memories and ... sacrifices... will not be forgotten.'

Hermione's eyes glinted. She laughed harshly. 'See what the Dark Path leads to. Detachment. Hatred. Fear. And for what?' She laughed again. 'You do everything that is physically possible to serve the Dark Lord and what will you get in return?' Draco glanced at Gryffin again and then turned his eyes back on Hermione. 'He's replacing you, Draco. All you ever worked for. All that effort. And you aren't going to get a thing, you're just -'

Hermione was forced to stop at this point, however, for Draco had hit her hard across the face. She stumbled but did not fall. A livid bruise began to rise on her cheek but she continued to smile.

'He's coming, Draco. He's coming to take your place. And look at this, what a funny situation - you're off to fetch him for your Master.'

Hermione knew the situation was dire and that infuriating Draco was unlikely to help her cause. The look on his face said it all.

'Thank you for that summary of the situation, Hermione,' he said, as though he had just tasted poison. 'However, whether he replaces me or not you will never find out.' He pulled a small vial of a viscous liquid from his pocket, removed the top and drank it quickly. It clung to his lips and turned them deep red. Contrasted against the pallor of his skin it made him look like a vampire.

'Any last requests, before we part ways?' he asked, walking towards her. With every step Hermione realised just how violently she was shaking. For only the second time she was scared of Draco Malfoy.

'Nothing?' he said, stopping right in front of her. 'That's all right. But I do have one desire...' Hermione knew what he was going to do before he did it, but made no effort to stop him. She knew that if she did she'd be dead in an instant. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth with his own. However, Hermione could taste the lingering, bitter taste on his lips. She tasted it as it entered her own mouth. He ended the kiss softly and pulled away. Hermione's vision had already started to blur when he motioned to Gryffin.

'Poison,' she choked, and fell to the floor. Draco had mounted Gryffin and smiled at Hermione's lifeless body as he felt the Griffin rise from the floor.

'Pleasant dreams, Hermione,' he said, and then they were gone.

***