Hellfire in New York

Hellfire in New York

Chapter One: The Sorting of Ororo Monroe

Harry Potter walked into the Gryffindor common room and looked around him. The summer sun was shining in through the open windows, gilding the panels and the old furniture, and spotlighting the dust-motes that danced in the air. I'll miss the old place, Harry thought. Some of the best and worst times of his life had taken place in this room.

In three days' time, he would leave Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the last time. His NEWTs were behind him and the future beckoned - a future without shadow because, five months ago, he, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had stood, battered, bloody and indomitable, at the top of the Astronomy Tower. They had stood and watched as the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, stripped of his powers and aging rapidly, had shrieked his mad hatred at the heavens. They had stood and watched, too weak to intervene, as a bitter, disappointed old man named Tom Riddle had flung himself from the Tower to land in a broken heap on the lawn below.

A few moments later, a crowd of students and staff had burst through the door into the tower. They had found the four young people locked together in a tight embrace - not speaking, not laughing, not crying - just being there for each other as they always had been.

Professor McGonagall had turned to the stocky figure at her side. "Poor Albus was right, Logan. Look at those four! It was love, their unconditional love for each other, that made this possible."

Wolverine had replied in a voice very different from his usual gruffness, "Albus was right about a lot of things, Minerva. Even about going down into that dungeon when he knew he'd never come out."

Harry came back out of his memories as a small, flame-haired figure darted across the room into his arms. "Harry!" Ginny Weasley cried delightedly. "I thought you'd be ages in the Library!" She pulled his head down and kissed him soundly. When he came up for air, Harry shook his head and smiled down at her. "I was lucky. There was almost nobody inside. I was able to hand my books in straightaway and come right back."

The common room wasn't terribly full, even though classes had ended for the term. Most people were outside, but as Ginny and Harry walked further into the room, Parvati Patil waved indolently from the sofa where she lay reading a Muggle paperback. Ron Weasley was sitting at the big table, hunched in concentration over the electronic chess game he'd been given the year before by the Mutant students of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

"Are you winning, Ron?" asked Harry. Ron grunted without looking up. Harry and Ginny shared a droll look, then, without turning his head, Harry said, "Hi, Hermione."

From behind him, Hermione Granger said in a puzzled voice, "How did you do that, Harry? Have you suddenly grown eyes on the back of your head?"

"Not really," he replied. "You came up behind me across a wooden floor, and between me and an open window. I recognised you by your walk and your smell."

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then Ron, who had looked up when Hermione spoke, put his head in his arms on the table, shaking with suppressed laughter. Parvati flopped over onto her stomach on the couch, burying her giggles in a cushion. Ginny stretched up, nipped Harry's earlobe with her strong white teeth and whispered, "You are so dead, lover!"

Hermione was indignant. "You recognised my smell? Oh, thank you so very much, Mr Potter! Have you turned into Wolverine all of a sudden, or--" her voice became dangerous, "are you implying that I should bathe more often?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "For cryin' out loud!" he replied, in a fair imitation of Logan's irritable growl, "Didn't you ever pay attention in Danger Room, Hermione?"

This ignited a fresh paroxysm in Ron. Danger Room at Xavier's was the only class in which both he and Harry had ever consistently out-performed Hermione. Harry turned to face his friend, whose look of indignation was beginning to fade as she realised she was being teased.

Harry grinned at her. "You don't have to have enhanced senses," he told her. "You just need to use the ones you have." He began ticking off points on his fingers. "Your mum sends you a big box of Muggle products every month because she worries you'll be allergic to other stuff. You use Timotei shampoo and conditioner, Camay soap, Dove moisturiser and Mum anti-perspirant, the pink kind. You alternate between two perfumes on ordinary days. One is Starlight Nymph, which Ron bought you for Christmas in our fifth year. You've been using it ever since, though whether it's because you like it or for scent-imental" (everyone groaned at the pun) "reasons, I don't know. The other is Charlie, which you've been wearing since you were thirteen. On special occasions you wear the Chanel No.9 Ron got you for your last birthday, or the Calvin Klein the Xavier's lot gave you for Christmas last."

Harry went over to Hermione, who was now gazing at him in astonishment, and put his arms round her shoulders. "It's a unique combination, luv; to me, it just screams 'Hermione'! When I first knew you, you used to smell of ink, parchment, library dust and chocolate. Now, there's always a whiff of Ron's after-shave around when I get close to you."

Hermione hugged Harry and shook her head at him. "It's a good job I love you so much, Harry, or I'd have killed you before you got a chance to explain!" Then she glanced past him at Ginny, "Do I have your permission to kiss this man?"

"Always," said Ginny, "but no tongues, mind, except at Christmas and birthdays."

Hermione giggled, then kissed Harry warmly on the lips before releasing him and going to drape herself over Ron, who promptly pulled her into his lap and began to nuzzle and kiss her neck. "You shouldn't do that in front of people," she objected.

As Harry perched on the edge of the table, and Ginny leaned back against him, wriggling herself between his knees, he put his arms round her and listened to Hermione murmuring to Ron, "I said you shouldn't do it in front of people, darling. I didn't tell you to stop."

Parvati sat up and asked, "Have you lot decided what you're doing this summer?"

Harry shrugged. "Ron, Ginny and I will be going to the Burrow for a week or two, and Hermione will be at her parents' house. Then, after that, I'll be based at Grimmauld Place with Sirius, Ororo and Remus. Ron and Hermione will be there, too, for a while at least...."

"Until we can find a flat," Hermione clarified.

Ginny shook her head. "Forget it, Hermione. Sirius has a ton of room in that old house, and he'll be miffed if you decide not to stay there - not to mention the fact that Ororo won't hear of you moving out!"

"She's right, you know," Harry added, noting, "I still have all the legal stuff about Godric's Hollow to sort out. Then I'll have to look over the place and start getting it into shape. Auror training starts in September - we've all three of us been accepted provisionally - just as Ginny starts back here."

Ginny sighed when Harry mentioned Auror training. She had so wanted him to become a professional Quidditch player. His performance during the last season had been utterly brilliant, his natural talents enhanced by his X-Man training. Scouts from the top League teams had offered him dream contracts, but he'd refused them all. Ginny had argued furiously with him, and withdrawn in a mighty sulk that had lasted almost twenty-four hours - a personal record - before accepting that he'd never change his mind. Harry was a man who needed a mission and, as much as he loved Quidditch, to him it was only a pastime, not a career. The gods damn you, Tom Riddle, she thought fiercely, damn you to the blackest pits of Tartarus for twisting my Harry's life out of shape!

"On top of all that," Ron was saying, "Wolverine wants all four of us over at Xavier's at some point for a week's refresher training."

"All four of us?" asked Ginny. Harry gave her a little squeeze. "'Fraid so, chuck. You're an X-Man now, Firebird!" Ginny swallowed hard; she'd heard all about Wolverine's training sessions except how to survive them.

Just then, Neville Longbottom and Lavender Brown came into the room, chuckling quietly between themselves at something. Neville glanced up, saw Harry, and came straight over.

"Harry! I've been on the lookout for you, mate. McGonagall gave me a message a few minutes ago. Asks you to go to her study 'at your earliest convenience'!"

Harry grimaced. "That means ten minutes ago!" He kissed Ginny's hair. "Got to go, pet. Back as quick as I can."

"Oh, bum!" said Ginny, turning and putting her arms round his neck. "I was hoping we could go for a little wander outside..." and find a secluded spot to make love, her eyes added.

Harry grinned ruefully and kissed her again. "Later," he promised. "Catch you all in a bit!" he called over his shoulder as he set off briskly.

The summons was an imperative one, but even so, Harry paused as he passed through the Great Hall. It had not been so long since the fall of Voldemort that he could walk past the two plaques set into the wall without stopping for a moment.

The larger one was of black marble covered with gold lettering:

To the Honoured Dead

In Proud Memory of those

Staff, Students and Former Students of

Hogwarts School

Who Fell in the Defence of the Wizarding World

March 1997

Albus Dumbledore - Headmaster

Severus Snape - Head of Slytherin House

Dean Thomas - Gryffindor House

Luna Lovegood - Ravenclaw House

Justin Finch-Fletchley - Hufflepuff House

Pansy Parkinson - Slytherin House

Percy Weasley

Alastor Moody

Arranged around the plaque were a series of small, oval portraits. Dumbledore gave Harry a proud smile, Snape sniffed, and Moody produced a nod of grudging respect. Percy Weasley shrugged at Harry with a "What am I doing here?" look on his face. Dean grinned and winked; Justin gave a cheery thumbs up and Luna smiled and waved.

Harry came to Pansy last. She had died in his arms, struggling to find him and warn him of Voldemort's presence even as Millicent Bulstrode's Stoneheart Curse slowly petrified her from within. At the very last, she had begged him for one kiss, telling him, "I've always loved you, Harry." He had kissed her, and she had slipped away smiling. He forced himself to look at her portrait, to acknowledge her tender smile and the kiss she blew him.

Eyes blurring, Harry looked down at the flowers, magically preserved from the Memorial Service, which lay at the foot of the plaque. A posy of magnolias caught his eye, and he bent to read the card: To Severus Snape, a great teacher and a kind and brave man. The best dancing partner a girl could wish for. Love always, Marie. Rogue had been heartbroken to hear of Snape's death, Harry knew. He sighed, and moved on to the next plaque.

This one was smaller, and of white marble, but with the same golden letters:

This Tribute to the Living

is

Set Here in Gratitude to

Honour Those Not of Our World

Who Nonetheless Fought in its Defence

For the Sake of Friendship

March 1997

Scott Summers

Logan

Alison Blair

Danielle Moonstar

Roberto DaCosta

We were lucky, Harry thought. Logan - Wolverine - was a frequent visitor to Hogwarts, either to drink with his friend Severus Snape, or to talk over old times with a rediscovered one, Albus Dumbledore. The feral Canadian Mutant had been there on that fateful day, and had accompanied his friends into the deepest dungeon of the Castle, where a force of Death Eaters and Trolls was preparing to come on the rear of their defences. The only living thing to come out of that dungeon had been Logan.

Alison - Dazzler - had been at Hogwarts spending time with her wizard boyfriend, Seamus Finnigan. Roberto - Sunspot - had been there to show Harry some new skateboarding tricks, to tease Hermione and flirt with Ginny, Parvati and Lavender. His girlfriend Dani - Psyche - had come with him for a good old gossip with her Hogwarts friends and, being Dani, to flirt madly with Ron, Harry, Neville and any other boy who caught her mischievously roving eye! All three had been urged to leave when the alarm sounded, but had refused, lending their considerable courage and formidable Mutant powers to the defence.

Scott Summers - Cyclops - had been in London. The previous summer, a mixed force of wizards and X-Men had confronted Voldemort, his Death Eaters and the green-skinned behemoth called The Incredible Hulk at what had become known as the Battle of Salazar's Keep. One member of the wizard force had been the French witch, Fleur Delacour. Fleur had been intrigued by the handsome leader of the X-Men and Scott, in turn, had become fascinated by the beautiful, young witch. The two had fallen passionately in love, Scott finally shedding his brooding grief for his dead love, Jean Grey. So it was that he was in London with Fleur, visiting Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and his witch-Mutant lover, Ororo Monroe - Storm - when Death Eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange attacked the Ministry of Magic. All four had contributed valiantly to the defence, but had been unable to save the lives of Percy Weasley and 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

Harry went on his way, a little heartened. If nothing else, in his short, eventful life, he had made some good friends!

Arriving at the Headmistress' study, Harry found three other students waiting outside. Padma Patil greeted him with a quick, unexpected, hug. "Harry! How are you?" she asked.

"Fair to middling," Harry said, grinning down at her. He had always thought Padma less pretty than her Gryffindor twin, but now he realised that he'd been wrong. Padma had just seemed that way because she was more serious and shy than Parvati. Now, however, her eyes were sparkling and her face animated. "Looking good, Padma!" he told her. "George must be looking after you."

"Oh, he is!" Padma said enthusiastically.

Harry looked over at the other two students. Susan Bones greeted him with a nod and a smile. She had been talking with Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin Harry hardly knew. Daphne had taken over the leadership of the 'Loyal Slytherins' when Pansy was killed; she'd Obliviated Millicent Bulstrode, who was likely to stay in St Mungo's for the rest of her life. Daphne didn't speak, but nodded gravely and respectfully to Harry.

"Anybody know why we're here?" Susan asked. Daphne shook her head, and Padma shrugged. "Not a clue," Padma said, "and there's nobody here to give us the password."

"Actually, I can do that," put in Harry. "Professor McGonagall told it me in case I ever needed to talk with her about...what happened." He turned to the gargoyle and said, "Lapsang Souchong!" The gargoyle leapt aside and the door opened.

"Finally, Mr Potter!" Headmistress McGonagall called from inside. "Well, come in, all of you."

The study was already quite crowded. Professors Sprout and Flitwick were there, as were two newer members of staff. One was tall, craggy Professor Hugo Murgatroyd, who had taken over Defence Against the Dark Arts the previous year, and had now succeeded Severus Snape as head of Slytherin House. Harry rather liked the laconic former Auror. The other was the newest and youngest member of staff, slender, copper-haired Professor Jessica Crowe, Potions mistress and new Head of Gryffindor House.

Professor Crowe's appointment was the first warning to the world at large that Headmistress McGonagall was continuing her illustrious predecessor's tradition for controversy. In her early 30s and very attractive, Jessica Crowe was a gifted teacher, but her penchant for wearing Muggle-style mini skirts and tight sweaters under her teaching robes raised more than a few conservative eyebrows. This was also true of her dealings with students, which were relaxed and informal to a degree previously unknown at Hogwarts. Professor Flitwick had been dumbstruck to learn that Professor Crowe not only addressed senior students by their given names, but expected them to call her Jessica in return!

For now, however, Harry spared only a glance for the teachers. His attention was drawn to a group by the fireside - three people, all of whom he loved in one way or another. He went over eagerly, to be engulfed in a lung-emptying hug from Molly Weasley, the woman who had been like a mother to him for years.

She planted a smacking kiss on his cheek, then held him away from her and inspected him, head tilted to one side. "You're looking well, Harry, but you're so thin still! Are you eating properly?"

"I'm trying," he told her, "but sitting next to Ron at meals is like being beside a black hole! Everything edible just gets sucked in and vanishes."

"What's a black hole?" Molly wanted to know. Another woman stepped forward, saying, "I'll explain later, Molly. Right now, let me say hello to my godson!"

Ororo Monroe was still the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen, but that was not why he readily returned her warm embrace, kissing her on both cheeks. Storm was family now. She reached up and attempted to smooth his unruly black hair, then turned to the man close beside her. "Look, hon, the scar's almost gone!"

Sirius Black nodded gravely as he and Harry clasped hands. "One less trace of Voldemort in the world! Everything going well, Harry?"

Harry allowed that it was, while studying Sirius. His godfather was still lean and wiry, even as Harry himself was, but he had gained a little weight. His face was relaxed, less deeply lined now, and his eyes had lost the hunted look that had been in them since his escape from Azkaban Prison so many years ago. Part of the reason was that Sirius had been finally cleared of the false charges of treason and murder that had led to his imprisonment. He was once again a respected member of the wizarding community and head of the ancient House of Black. The rest of his new happiness was embodied in the beautiful elemental Mutant-witch beside him.

Sirius and Ororo had met in the Tower of Salazar's Keep, and had been instantly attracted to each other. That relationship had grown and blossomed for almost a year now, and showed no signs of weakening. Storm had taken advantage of this to firmly install herself as Harry's 'godmother', starting a friendly rivalry with Molly as to who could shower more affection on the boy. Harry was long past being embarrassed by this - he just wallowed in it!

Professor McGonagall clapped her hands sharply. "Could I have everyone's attention, please? I suppose I had better explain matters.

"As you will be aware, last year Hogwarts School took part in an exchange scheme with Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in the United States. Among many positive outcomes of this scheme was the opportunity I had to meet Miss Ororo Monroe, here. As a result of this meeting, I was able to determine that, as well as being a Mutant, Ororo is also a born witch. She decided to come to England to undertake magical training, and has made remarkable progress.

"Which brings us to the purpose of this gathering. For the last thousand years, most of the witches and wizards of Britain have passed through this school, in the process being sorted into one of our four Houses. That initial affiliation has come to last beyond the student's departure from the school. It provides adult wizards with a built-in social circle and support network, and influences such things as career choice and even selection of marriage partner.

"However, there have always been a minority of wizards who remain unaware of their abilities until adulthood. These people do not come to Hogwarts, but are trained individually under the supervision of two wizard mentors, who act where necessary in loco parentis. This system works well enough, except in one respect. A witch or wizard who has not been to Hogwarts, and is not therefore a member of any House can, quite without any malice or intention, find themselves socially isolated and at something of a disadvantage. Therefore, some seven hundred years ago, it was decided that a special, private Sorting Ceremony would be instituted for these people.

"Over the years, the full ceremony has fallen into disuse. Adult candidates nowadays come here during the school holidays with their mentors, and are Sorted. However, in the case of Ororo, I have decided to invoke the full ceremony. I have done so in order to mark and honour her contribution to the safety and well being of our world, even before she became a part of it. Ororo has demonstrated her valour and loyalty twice: at the Battle of Salazar's Keep, and in the defence of the Ministry last spring.

"The full ceremony calls for the candidate, Miss Monroe, to attend with her mentors, in this case Mrs Weasley and Mr Black. It also requires the Sorting to be witnessed by the Heads of the four Houses, and by an active senior student, of the same gender as the candidate, from each House."

Daphne raised a hand. "Excuse me, Professor, but I believe Potter here is male!"

"No shit, Sherlock," muttered Padma out of the corner of her mouth, making Susan giggle.

McGonagall huffed, "I was coming to that, Miss Greengrass. Mr Potter is clearly male, as Miss Patil indicates, though I must deprecate the inelegance with which she expressed herself!"

Harry winced at the look the Headmistress shot him. The expression was a favourite one of Kitty Pryde's, and Harry had picked it up during their brief romance. It had rather caught on at Hogwarts, Sherlock Holmes being one of the few Muggles well known and respected in the wizarding world. Holmes had resolved the famous Baskerville Case, in which an unlicensed Animagus had hired himself out to scare Muggles.

McGonagall was speaking again. "The gender requirement can be waived where a family relationship exists. Ororo is adamant that Mr Potter is her godson, and though this stretches the definition of 'family' somewhat, on this occasion I have decided to allow the waiver. Otherwise, of course, Miss Granger would be here."

Ouch! thought Harry. I'm going to catch it from Hermione for this!

"Now then, shall we begin?" said McGonagall. "Ororo, if you could sit here? Thank you. Let's have Mr Black on your right and Mrs Weasley on your left."

Harry suddenly realised that the three adults were all in dress robes. Molly's was deep green, Sirius was in grey with a Celtic motif picked out in silver, and Ororo wore a simple white robe with what Harry took to be African tribal patterns embroidered in gold thread. He was suddenly acutely conscious of his own appearance - a rather worn school robe he had nearly grown out of over t-shirt and jeans. Oh, well, if she wanted me in dress robes, she should have said!

"Staff members form a semi-circle here, in front of the chair," McGonagall directed. "Students in front and slightly to the right of your Head of House. Splendid. Now we can proceed."

Ororo, for the first time in years, was nervous! She was afraid that somehow she would let Sirius, Molly, Harry and Minerva down - all the people who had been so kind to her and meant so much to her. She watched as Minerva took the large, battered, ancient Sorting Hat down from its shelf. What if the thing rejected her? She was a Mutant, after all, and the Hat was a vestige of ancient wizardry that might despise her! Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded in her head: Calmly, Ororo. There is nothing to be afraid of!

Charles? You're here?

In spirit, or mind at least. I watch over all my 'children', Ororo, you should know that. You will be fine, dear girl.

He's right, Ororo! Came another mental 'voice'. Ororo looked across in surprise, to see Harry wink and grin at her. Xavier's mental presence was warm, fatherly, powerful beyond belief, but Harry shone like a star in her mind. Ororo felt a surge of fierce love for both of them, her 'father' and her adopted godson. Buoyed by this, she faced Minerva squarely as the Headmistress lowered the Hat onto her head.

Rather to Ororo's surprise, the Hat completely covered her face, leaving her in an oddly comfortable darkness. After a second, a dry, aged but kindly voice spoke in her ear.

"What have we here? An adult for Sorting! Excellent, let me see where we can put you, my dear!

"Not Slytherin, I think, though your blood is almost pure. Not Hufflepuff, either - you are too much of air and fire for that earthy House. A mind of no common order, perhaps a Ravenclaw? But fire is stronger than air in you."

Ororo couldn't help herself. "You sound like Professor Dumbledore," she murmured.

There was a pause, then the Hat replied, "Child, you have divined our secret! I, we, are all the Headmasters this school has ever had. Our spirits, our memories, our accumulated wisdom, live on in this battered old Hat. How else could we make the most important decision in any young wizard's life?

"But as for you, daughter of chieftains and priestesses, sister to the proud lion of your homeland, Queen in exile, we choose for you....GRYFFINDOR!"

There was a burst of applause. As the Hat was lifted from her head, Ororo saw Harry gesture triumphantly and hiss "Yes!" Professor Crowe cuffed him playfully on the back of the head, smiling at Ororo. There was something hauntingly familiar about the Head of Gryffindor House, but Ororo couldn't put her finger on just what it was.

Then Sirius was kissing her passionately - in front of everyone! Ororo didn't give a damn. After that, Molly hugged her, and Harry followed suit. There was even a slightly stiff but sincere embrace from McGonagall. Finally, Harry took Ororo over to greet her new Head of House,

"Professor Crowe, Ororo Monroe."

"Sometimes known as Storm, I understand? Harry here talks about you and his other X-Men friends all the time. Welcome to Gryffindor house, Ororo, I'm Jessica, and if you need anything, just ask!"

Storm returned the warm handclasp. Professor Crowe was looking at her, head slightly to one side. Ororo noticed that her right eye was a sparkling blue, but the left had a strange golden hue. The professor frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, but have we met before? There's something awfully familiar about you, Ororo."

Ororo nodded. "I know. I almost recognise you, too. How strange!"

Jessica shrugged. "Y'know, I bet we passed each other, or saw each other in a shop or something in Diagon Alley. You're far too striking for anyone who's seen you to forget. Guess we'll never know. Harry, you'd better take our newest member to the common room to meet her Housemates."

"OK, Jessica. Sirius, are you coming, too?"

Sirius shook his head, explaining, "No, Harry. I'll let you kids have Ororo to yourselves for a bit. I've got to speak to Minerva anyway. But, later on, I want a chat with you, son. I've found out some things that you ought to know."

Harry frowned slightly. He'd thought with Voldemort gone that all the troubles in his world would be over for a while, but Sirius's expression and tone said otherwise. Now, however, he had a more pleasant task, and happily guided Ororo through the Castle to Gryffindor Tower. He would have liked her first view of the common room to be an ideal one: happy, chattering, hard-working students sitting around with scrubbed faces and neat robes. Instead, the scene that met them on entry was all too typical.

Seamus was sitting at one end of the table, building an elaborate structure with some playing cards, and trying to ignore the 'helpful' hints being shouted at him by the Kings, Queens and Jacks. Lavender was perched on the other end, head thrown far back, and giggling while Neville (for reasons Harry couldn't fathom) tried to balance a square of Honeyduke's chocolate on her nose.

Hermione and Ron were at least fairly decorous. Hermione, in t-shirt and shorts, was sitting sideways on the settee, her slim bare legs thrown casually over Ron's muscular thighs where he sat next to her. She was reading a Muggle novel with rather a lurid cover, while he was poring over the new edition of What Broom? Parvati still lolled on the other sofa.

On one arm of a nearby armchair, a copy of the Prophet lay open at the crossword, while across the other arm a slim, denim-clad rear pointed skyward. By moving slightly, Harry could see a Gryffindor Second Year named Kylie Barrett, hanging over the edge of the chair, trying to retrieve a dropped quill. What Kylie couldn't see was Ginny, across the room, gently flicking her wand and causing the quill to inch away from Kylie's fingers every time she got close.

"Visitor!" Harry announced loudly, causing complete chaos. Hermione and Ron both looked up, faces lighting with delighted grins at the sight of Ororo. Lavender's head whipped round, and the chocolate flew off her nose, hitting Seamus' structure, which collapsed amid a storm of protest from the pasteboard royalty. Ginny jumped, wand in mid flick. The quill shot up into the air; Kylie went "Woop!", grabbed for it, lost her balance, did a clumsy somersault and landed with a thump on the carpet. Ginny promptly dashed over to help the younger girl and dust her off, saying, "Kylie! I'm sorry! Are you OK?" The image was faintly ridiculous, since the willowy Kylie was already within a whisker of Ginny's petite 5' 2".

A chagrined Harry turned to Ororo. "Welcome to the ancient and noble House of Gryffindor!"

"Thank you, Harry," Storm managed, before collapsing into the nearest chair, howling with laughter.

The afternoon was a pleasant one, followed by a convivial dinner, made more so by Sirius and Ororo's decision to sit at the Gryffindor table, rather than the staff one, so Harry was in a mellow mood when he joined Sirius under a beech tree on the grounds.

Sirius sighed, wistfully recalling, "We used to sit under here, the four of us, back in the day."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You did? Y'know, Ron and Hermione and I have spent a lot of time under this tree, too. Funny thing, life. But you said you had something to tell me, Sirius?"

Sirius began by asking, "You know I work for the Ministry, now?"

"Yeah, sort of an unofficial troubleshooter style of thing, right?"

"Yes, I do things the Aurors won't or can't. Anyway, you heard Narcissa was murdered?"

Harry nodded. "The Malfoys have hit a bad streak, not that they don't deserve it. I heard Lucius killed himself in Azkaban, and I know Draco's disappeared completely."

Sirius grunted. "I'm not sure how Lucius died, but Narcissa was definitely murdered, shot at close range with a Muggle weapon, I'm told - a .38 calibre revolver, whatever that might be. We had to get a Muggle what-d'you-call-it, forensic something, in to tell us that much. The back of her head was all blown out, very nasty!" Sirius shuddered, then looked at Harry, who'd gone pale. "I'm sorry, son. I forgot for a moment you knew her, didn't you?"

Harry said softly, "Better than I ever wanted to. She was...very lovely, but her heart was as black as sin!"

"She tried to seduce you last summer, didn't she? Harry, I've never asked you this, but...how far did you two get? You don't have to say if you don't want to."

Harry exhaled heavily. "She flashed her boobs at me; we kissed. Then I knocked her out - there's a trick Wolverine taught us where you press on someone's neck. Mind you, if it hadn't been for Professor X--"

Sirius knew about Xavier's telepathic intervention. He also knew that Xavier had triggered Harry's own limited telepathic abilities to allow him to 'see' Narcissa's plans for him. At Ron and Hermione's urging, Harry had confided in his godfather regarding this ability, which Harry was sure had been a result of his childhood encounter with Voldemort.

After a moment, Sirius went on with his story. "Well, anyway, we first thought that a Muggle had broken into Malfoy Manor to rob the place, killing Narcissa in the process. There was an empty chest near the body, you see. So the Aurors called in some Muggle police - a special squad who deal with crimes that cross between our worlds. But then they realised that there was no way a Muggle could have done this. Whoever killed Narcissa must have Flooed or Apparated in, straight past the magical defences. Nobody but a wizard could have done that."

"Not true," Harry disagreed. "I know four people at least, none of them wizards, who could get in almost anywhere."

Sirius admitted, "I thought of that, too. But Kitty, Hank or Kurt wouldn't kill anyone, and Logan would have used his claws. So unless it was some Mutant we don't know about, we're left with a wizard.

"I was brought into it because Narcissa was family. I thought there was something fishy, because she was killed almost exactly a week after Lucius apparently hanged himself. Also, it was months between Voldemort's fall and Lucius' suicide, which made it hard for me to believe Malfoy had killed himself just because the Dark Lord was gone."

"And it was about then," Harry interrupted, "that Draco vanished from school. He hadn't taken part in the fight, which after what he told me last summer was no surprise. He's got his own agenda; I just wish I knew what! You don't think he...?"

Sirius looked at the young man beside him. "And they call Hermione the clever one!

"Look, Harry, Narcissa wrote to me after Lucius died, begging me to come and see her. She had something important to tell me, she said. She was killed the day before I planned to visit her. When I saw the place, that chest was the only thing that had been touched in the place, and all that was left in it was one bit of torn parchment with the word 'Knights' on it.

"So I went digging on my own, because Remus was following up some other business. He's obsessed with finding Bellatrix, Rookwood and, especially, Pettigrew, you know. I was daft enough to go into Knockturn Alley alone. There's still a lot of Death Eaters around, lying low and making trouble when they can, and eight of them jumped me. I was doing what I could - holding my own - but I was expecting to get hit in the back any second. But it didn't happen! I put down the ones in front of me, just in time to turn and see the last of the others hitting the ground."

"Tonks?" Harry guessed, but Sirius shook his head. "No, it was your friend, the Wolverine. He'd been in the Leaky Cauldron, raising a glass or two to absent friends, he told me, and saw me come in. He also spotted two blokes following me, so he followed them. I never thought I'd see one Muggle take down four wizards without a scratch!"

Harry gave a bark of laughter. "Logan's not exactly a Muggle, Sirius! I don't think there's anybody quite like him - he scares the Hell out of me, you know. But Hermione thinks he's a sweetheart, and I don't think Ron's ever had a teacher he liked better. Did you know Wolverine's over a hundred years old? Apparently, he and Dumbledore did some stuff together in 1943! That's what he told Hermione at the Memorial Service, anyway."

"Well," said Sirius, "he's certainly a good man to have around in a tight spot! He stuck with me after that, and we did our digging together. We've become quite good friends, actually, so you'll be seeing quite a bit of him at Grimmauld Place.

"But as to what we found out: It seems that there's been a secret society of Purebloods operating in the wizard world for hundreds of years. They call themselves the Knights of Walpurgis, and they've been manipulating events from behind the scenes since forever. There are thirteen Knights, and they all have people loyal to them, like a kind of web spreading all throughout our world.

"Voldemort was just a puppet to these people! They were using that madman to further their own aims. When he fell, they should have just carried on.

"But something's gone wrong. As far as I can tell, the Malfoys were always the leaders of the Knights. When Lucius went to Azkaban, Narcissa took over, but now she's dead. Not only that, but other people are...well, things are happening to them. Some wizards, all from old Pureblood families, are dropping out of sight. A couple have left the country; others have died suddenly or been revealed as Death Eaters and carted off to Azkaban. Also, money is moving around in strange ways. Bill and Fleur have been following that up for me - they're talking again, by the way, when Fleur and Tonks aren't playing 'my man's better than yours'. That makes Scott and Bill bust a gut laughing!

"But anyway, Draco Malfoy did turn up again. Walked into Gringotts bold as brass two days after Narcissa died, and claimed his parents' estate. The Aurors took him in, but he's got a cast-iron alibi."

"Crabbe or Goyle?" asked Harry

"The Notts. He says that when he fell out with his mother, he went to stay with them. They swear he was with them all that evening. Nothing was ever proved against the Notts, you know, so the Aurors had to take it at face value. Besides, the killing was done with a Muggle weapon, and nobody wants to believe a Pureblood wizard would use one, not to mention the idea that Draco would murder his own mother is hard for a lot of people to swallow."

Harry snorted. "Not do it himself, would he? Still, I wouldn't put it past him to bribe a Muggle to do the job, then Floo him in and out remotely, or something."

"You've a twisted mind, boy!" Sirius reproved.

"Comes of hanging around with Ron, I think. So what's Draco up to?"

"Merlin knows! But he's sold Malfoy Manor, and bought himself some old pile way to Hell and gone in the middle of Dartmoor. He's not been seen around Diagon Alley, either.

"Look, Harry, this is just fair warning, all right? You'll be an Auror soon enough, and if Malfoy is up to anything underhand, you'll be on his hit-list!"

"Or his wish list," said Harry wryly. "Last summer, he asked me to join up with him, you know? Reckoned we could rule the world between us, with Voldemort gone."

"Did he now? We'll talk about this another time, Harry. Right now, though, Ginny's hovering just out of earshot, and if looks could maim, you'd be putting my bits in a basket about now! Go and make it up to her, son, and give her a kiss for me. I'll see you tomorrow, before Ororo and I leave."

Harry waved over to Ginny, then got up. "One more question, Sirius. What does Remus think about all this?"

Sirius held out his hands. "I've not spoken to him about it yet. Remus is in New York."