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Replay

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Chapter Thirty-Five

The Impostors

At first the reunion between Teddy, Nate, Julian, the adults and the other children outside the Malfoy house was a bit confusing; arms were flung about heedlessly as one hug after another was exchanged between reunited parents and children, resulting in some people being struck in the nose and about the head. Not that anyone minded. Harry could tell that Teddy was thrilled to see Ginny, who was making him blush she she hugged him. Arthur, Bill, Fleur and the others had finally broken through the various defences around the Malfoy house, so Bill and Fleur were pulling Marguerite to them, Neville and Hermione were crushing Frances between them and Ron, Luna and their children were a tangle of celebratory limbs. Arthur took turns hugging whichever of his grandchildren weren't already embraced by their parents. While Ginny hugged the twins and swept up Charlotte into her arms Harry pumped Teddy's hand and then gave up on stoicism, hugging him closely and whispering to him, "I thought I'd never see you again..."

It was very confusing until they'd removed all of the Disillusionment Charms and everyone could see each other properly. Percy, Penelope, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had come out of the house with the boys but weren't moving as quickly as the youngsters; as soon as he saw the boys come round the corner of the house Harry had sent up a cry and the three of them had hurtled forward; Harry quickly realised that this was because Penelope had probably told them that they were waiting outside for them. As Draco and Pansy came nearer, however, Neville advanced upon them and sternly confiscated their wands; he kept his wand trained on Draco, his jaw clenched.

Arthur pushed through the crowd, walking toward Percy; he pushed his fingers through what was left of the still-red fringe around the perimeter of his pate, a habit Harry had never realised that Ron got from his dad. He seemed uncertain for a moment, as if afraid of being wrong again. Percy gave him a small smile and nodded.

"I never should have said that you were wrong to speak to the press about what happened at the World Cup without asking your supervisor first," Percy said sheepishly.

Arthur was crying in earnest now, tears rolling down his face so that he had to remove his spectacles for a moment to wipe his eyes. "Well, it only took you seventeen years to admit it," he said with a choke in his voice before pulling Percy to his chest in a fierce hug. Somehow Harry couldn't imagine that Draco Malfoy would have known about the World Cup; even apart from the fact that Malfoy was standing nearby, it was clearly the real Percy.

Ginny was holding Charlotte, the toddler's head drooping on her shoulder, but when she saw this she had to bury her head in Harry's chest, sobbing. Charlotte complained that they were "squinching" her between them. Bill stepped toward Percy with his arms around Fleur and Marguerite. "Perce--it's good to have you back," he said with a break in his voice that sounded just like Arthur's. "You may not remember my wife--"

"--but I remember you," Fleur said, extending her hand delicately to Percy, so that he could kiss it; he took the hint flawlessly. "From ze Triwizard Tournament. You were very concerned about your bruzzer being in ze lake..."

"--and you were very concerned about your sister," he countered, peering quizzically at Marguerite, who, Harry realised suddenly, was the spitting image of her aunt when she was a child, if a little taller.

"Oh, no, Percy, this is our daughter, Marguerite," Bill told him. Percy nodded at her, smiling.

"As pretty as your mother," Percy told her, making her blush.

Ron was wrestling with his boys a few feet away while Luna stood by serenely, holding Diana against her shoulder. Diana had the same calm expression--although some might have called it vacant--as her mother, surveying her brothers without judgment as they climbed all over their father.

"Oi!" Ron cried. "We've talked about that! No hair-pulling! I have all of my hair yet and I want to keep it as long as I can..."

He stood slowly, Hal hanging on his back and Cedric under one arm; young Percy scrambled to his feet and found himself looking straight up at his Uncle Percy. "Hullo!" he piped. "I'm your namesake!" He held out a hand that was black with dirt. "How'ja do? I'm called Percy Weasley."

Percy grinned and took the very dirty hand being offered. "So am I called Percy Weasley. Nice to meet you." He shook his head at Ron, who couldn't hug Percy or shake his hand for understandable reasons. "Of all people, Ron... a namesake from you. I never thought..."

Ron's ears turned dark red. "It's nothing. You know how it is... thought you'd bit the dust," he explained with a shrug, looking deeply embarrassed. Harry stepped forward, holding Ginny's hand, and clapped his other hand on Percy's shoulder.

"Evidently I didn't need to bite the dust in order to get a namesake," Harry said, grinning.

"Right," Ron agreed, recovering from his embarrassment. "We have both a little Percy and a little Harry. But we call him Hal, to avoid confusion. Do you know how many little wizards were given the name Harry--"

"--and Harriet--" Harry added, rolling his eyes.

"--and Harriet in the first few years after You-Know-Who was defeated? Harry's got them now for students. He dreads reading off the names on the registers; it's all Harry-this and Harriet-that. We had no idea when Hal was born or we might have tried to think of a different name... No offence, mate," he said, turning to Harry, who held up both hands to indicate that he wasn't about to take offence at such a thing.

"And your other son?" Percy asked quietly, nodding at him.

"Cedric," Harry whispered, watching the happy little boy play on his father.

Percy drew his mouth into a line. "Good choice," he said quickly, making no further jokes about needing to die to have a namesake.

To end the awkward silence, Ron snorted, evidently laughing at what he was about to say: "Well, you know, Harry was a champion and Cedric was a champion... I definitely wasn't about to suggest that we call him Viktor." The other adults laughed too as Harry saw Ron's eyes slide over to where Hermione was holding Frances very tightly; Neville was close to them, still keeping his wand on Draco and Pansy. He was clearly enjoying himself a great deal and Malfoy was trying to placate him.

"Have I ever mentioned, Longbottom, how surprised I was that you'd become an Auror? Er, wait, that wasn't what I meant. I mean, no one should have been surprised, should they? No, not about good old Neville Longbottom," Malfoy said with a falsely jovial chuckle, his voice abnormally high. "Auror material from his first day at Hogwarts, that's what I always said," he added, keeping a very wary eye on the end of Neville's wand.

Ginny had finally recovered; she placed Charlotte in Harry's arms so that she could give Percy a proper hug.

"I just can't believe that it's really you at last, Percy..." she whispered to him.

"I can," Luna said suddenly, her large blue eyes rather eerie in the moonlight; "he hasn't pinched my bottom yet. I didn't like to say anything because I assumed it had to do with the memory problem, but now I reckon I should have done..."

"Yes," Ginny agreed, folding her arms and glaring at Draco Malfoy; Harry, Ron and Pansy joined in the glaring. "I refrained from saying anything for the same reason."

Malfoy smiled feebly and looked nervously at them all; Luna seemed not to care so he didn't bother with her. "Well, you know, it was an act. That's all. I was supposed to have amnesia.... You all believed I did, didn't you?" He seemed most nervous about the glare Pansy was giving him, which made Harry want to laugh, despite having just found out about Malfoy's wandering hands and despite the fact that they had wandered on his wife's bottom.

"Erm, I don't believe I've been properly introduced to your charming wife," Percy said, turning back to Ron, the corners of his mouth twitching. "If we've met, I don't remem--"

"Oh, no, you wouldn't remember me, not unless you recall when I was in second year and you were Head Boy and you told off some boys in my house for taking my things; you'd caught them with stuff that had my name on it, although the books only said 'L. Lovegood' in them and you might not remember that, which is why I never did understand everyone saying that you ought to take your wand out of your bum, because I saw you take your wand out of your robes many times, and it never seemed to me as if you were keeping it in your bum. I thought you were a good Head Boy and prefect, too, I didn't care what everybody else was saying. You had a lot on your mind, didn't you? You thought Sirius Black was trying to get into the castle to commit murder, and, all right, it turns out he really was, but he wasn't trying to kill Harry or Ron, not really, and you couldn't have known that he was trying to kill your old rat who had become Ron's rat and wasn't really a rat at all but an illegal Animagus, although I suppose it's possible that you might have wondered once or twice about why he was living for so long. I reckon you thought he was a magic rat, which he was, in a way, so you can't really be blamed for that, although Rita Skeeter did blame you once in an article in the Prophet. I think she was just upset because Ron had beaten her to an exclusive interview with the Keeper for the Appleby Arrows, who'd just won the League Cup after nearly winning for the previous three years and losing each time to the Ballycastle Bats, whose Keeper is Appleby's Keeper's twin brother, which is something that made it a very interesting story and helped to sell twice as many issues of the Quibbler as we usually do."

Percy's mouth hung open as if he might respond, were he able to think of anything appropriate, which seemed unlikely.

"Good," Penelope said suddenly. "Glad to hear it," she added a little too loudly, as she might speak to someone who was deaf, touched in the head, or both. She and Percy looked at each other like two people sharing a secret joke and Harry nudged Ginny, putting his mouth very close to her ear.

"Look at them," he whispered to her. "Much more like the old Penny and Percy, wouldn't you say?"

Ginny gave him a teary smile and nodded. The reunion was suddenly interrupted, however, by Kingsley Shacklebolt emerging from the house with Zabini at wandpoint; Snape followed, levitating the unconscious form of Narcissa Malfoy and carrying an enormously unwieldy book. Crabbe and Goyle brought up the rear.

Snape and Percy nodded politely to each other, although Harry saw Percy flex his fingers on his wand while Penelope looked away, ducking her head and pulling her sons close to her. Snape appeared vaguely guilty, as if he might even offer an apology to Percy but was afraid of making the sun rise in the north and turning the sky green.

"Would you believe it?" Shacklebolt said, nodding at Zabini. "Claims he isn't to blame for any of this, says his son has had him under Imperius and forced him to impersonate him..."

"Ridiculous!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed. "Anyone can see that that is Blaise Zab--" He peered more closely at the damaged face of the man before him. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Dad?" Teddy said to Harry suddenly. "Do you have to be a witch or wizard to use potions? To use something like--Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well... that might be a better question for your stepfather," Harry admitted, looking reluctantly to Snape, who raised one brow in surprise but obligingly answered Teddy's question, going into his best professorish voice to do so.

"Most potions require a magical person, yes," Snape told him. "There are a few that can affect Muggles and Squibs, but Polyjuice requires the imbiber--the person drinking it--to be magical as well. When the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was passed in 1692, our Ministry passed a law requiring all potions to be reformulated so that the persons making and using them had to be magical. In the end it wasn't possible for all potions to be thus altered, and it's a good thing that that is true of Wolfsbane Potion, because most werewolves are not wizards, but the intention was to put an end to wizards trafficking in potions in Muggle villages, especially love potions. Fortunately, it is also true of Veritaserum," he added, motioning with his head to Zabini and holding up a small, clear, empty vial. Harry nodded in understanding but didn't say anything else about this, turning instead to Teddy again.

"Why do you ask, Teddy?" Harry wanted to know.

"Because--well--I don't think he's a wizard anymore," he said, pointing at Zabini. "At the moment when he--when I think he stopped being one--he started to look like this. I think he was using a potion to look like someone else. And he couldn't anymore once he lost his magic."

"Lost his magic?" Harry, Ginny and Ron said together.

"But--he was trying to take your magic," Harry said, confused. "How did he end up losing his?"

"That explains it!" Hermione said excitedly. "Why the concealment charms and other protections on the property suddenly stopped working... he'd lost his magic and the spells ended!"

Harry stared. "Is that what happened? How you all got through?"

Ginny nodded. "That wall of snakes? It completely disappeared suddenly. The snakes just vanished into the air. They weren't even enchanted snakes; they were conjured, none of them real. So I didn't even need to worry about what to do with snakes that weren't enchanted once that happened..."

Harry frowned; something was still striking him as strange. "But if he isn't Blaise Zabini, who is he? And where's the real one?"

"Oh, I think that's Blaise Zabini, all right," Arthur said thoughtfully, squinting at the confused-looking man. "Blaise Zabini, senior. I haven't seen him in years. One of my first raids, when I was just a lad, fresh out of school... But I suppose this is how he'd appear by now, with no disguises or potions. He was already getting on in years when Blaise, junior was born--over sixty years old, I should say..."

"Why don't we revive Narcissa, to see whether she can shed some light on this?" Penelope suggested, frowning at, evidently, the father of the Blaise Zabini they'd all thought was behind the kidnapping plot.

Arthur nodded at Snape. "That's probably wise. You know what to do, Severus."

But as Snape lifted his wand, Pansy Parkinson suddenly said, "Wait! Just so you know--she isn't stunned. I, erm, hit her on the head. With a cast-iron pan. So she--she might have concussion..." Harry thought Pansy was trying to refrain from laughing; the edges of her mouth kept turning up.

"Very well, then," Arthur said, nodding at Snape again. Snape waved his wand and Narcissa's body sank slowly to the ground; after he moved it again she put her hand to her head and tried to sit up, groaning.

"Ooooooh, what hap--you," she growled as soon as she opened her eyes and saw Pansy. She opened her eyes even wider upon seeing that she was sitting on the grass behind her home, surrounded by people she never would have invited to a garden party unless she'd been placed under Imperius or blackmailed. Then her eyes fell on the old man standing next to Shacklebolt; she dropped her jaw in surprise.

"Blaise! What on earth... You died!"

Arthur slapped his brow. "That's right! I remember seeing that in the Prophet a few years back..."

"What's going on? Where's your son?" She looked nervously at Shacklebolt. "I--I was under Imperius... I never wanted to hurt little children, but his son forced--"

"I don't think you were with his son, Mother," Draco said, looking rather relieved about this. "The kids said that after his potion wore off, Blaise suddenly looked like this. He was using Polyjuice to look like Blaise but I don't think Blaise was ever really involved in this..."

"So--so I was really with you and not your son?" Narcissa gasped. "Again?"

"Again?" at least a half-dozen voices repeated; Harry just stared with his mouth open while Ginny looked like she was trying not to laugh.

Her mouth turning up at the corners, she started to whisper to Harry, "Look at the expression on Malfoy's--"

"What d'you mean again?" Draco demanded, his voice going up.

"I--I couldn't get you out of my head--or my heart--all of these years, Narcissa," the old man said in a wheedling voice. Harry wondered whether the Veritaserum had kicked in yet.

"Codswallop! You expect me to believe that?" she sneered. "You used me. You pretended to be your own son to seduce me, knowing that I wouldn't come near you as you are now," she said, recoiling in disgust at his appearance. "And then you plied me with promises of getting my son out of prison and making him a great wizard..."

"My son was squandering his youth!" Zabini growled back at her, evidently giving up on trying to seem like an innocent old man in the grip of senility, or unable to continue the charade due to the potion's influence. "Never looked twice at women. He wasn't going to give me any heirs that way. So a few years ago I began making a steady supply of Polyjuice Potion to live as him, to make some use of being a young, vital wizard. And as I knew that he hadn't been with a woman... well, I'd heard of a spell that would allow me to take the power of a virginal witch or wizard and add it to my own. Your Draco had told my son about it when they were in school, because he was worried about his father possibly using it on him. I knew that the most likely place to find the spell was here in this house, but I also knew I'd need a plausible reason to give you for helping me."

"I take it this is the book in question?" Snape said, hefting the enormous tome he'd carried out of the house. Zabini nodded; Hermione handed Frances to Ginny.

"Do you mind if I take a look?" Hermione asked Snape. "In the course of my work I've come across a spell that's been used by some house-elf owners to suppress their elves' power, in addition to requiring their absolute loyalty and secrecy. No one has managed to actually take the power from their elves, as far as I know, let alone add that power to their own, but perhaps I can learn why it is that he doesn't seem to be a wizard anymore," she said, gesturing with her head toward the old man, who continued speaking, much more alert now, as if energised by telling his story; the potion seemed to have made him quite chatty now. Snape handed her the tome, which she levitated in the air at chest-level; raising the lit end of her wand, she began to peruse the stiff parchment pages, which made crackling noises as she turned them.

"When I'd become comfortable enough in his skin and had learned enough to convince all of his old mates and acquaintances that I was him, I killed myself off," Zabini continued. "Had a mock-funeral and kept him under Imperius in the house. The trouble was--I hadn't really worked out yet what incentive I could give Narcissa for helping me to find the spell that could increase my power. Even being with a handsome young wizard her son's age didn't seem like quite enough to offer to guarantee that she'd accept."

Narcissa Malfoy turned the pinkest Harry had ever seen her and looked mortally embarrassed.

"But then one day I read in the paper that Harry Potter had had a son when he was seventeen... That put me in mind of my own bastard and the use to which I could put him, if only I could get him out of Azkaban, which was certainly something I could offer to his mother that would appeal to her..." he said, looking at Narcissa and Draco.

"What?" Malfoy said, incensed. "That--that is my father? No. Just--no. I am a Malfoy!" he shouted at his mother, who snorted.

"Draco, darling, I'm afraid that a Malfoy is the last thing that you are likely to be. Your father and I--or rather, my husband and I--tried for years to have a child, but he would never admit that the problem was his; he blamed me. So I did what I had to do in order to become pregnant; he was beginning to frighten me," she admitted. "He kept telling me how he admired Henry VIII the most of all the kings of England. Which I was certain meant that the didn't just want a child, he wanted a son. So I sought out men who'd already had sons, men who might be able to do it again..."

"Such as?" Draco demanded, his voice going up even more.

"Well... do you remember some boys who were in school at the same time you were? They were a little older.... Warrington, Montague, Pucey..."

"You slept with all of their fathers? What, did you sleep with Flint's dad, too?"

She snorted again. "Don't be absurd. Not that he didn't offer, but no, I wasn't that desperate. And there was another one..." She looked at Pansy now. "You know, of course, that Pansy's brother is about ten years older than she is?"

"Mr. Parkinson?" Draco squeaked. "But--but then Pansy could be my--"

"Why do you think I've been trying to keep you apart all these years? Or why I asked you about steps you were taking to prevent a child?" Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Still--chances are that you're really a Zabini, not a Parkinson, Warrington, Montague or Pucey. I was playing it safe by trying to warn you off your possible half-sister. In case I was wrong."

"Wait," Neville said suddenly. "You said you were going after men who'd already had sons. Blaise Zabini was in our year."

"He had an older brother, already grown up when he died. A very messy Splinching, too, in a place that was far too isolated for anyone to be ready at hand to help him. The Ministry officials arrived too late to do anything about it. When the body parts were found it made the Muggle newspapers; they thought some mad axe-man was on the loose, until there were no more similar murders. Everyone soon forgot about the unidentified arms and legs... and ears and nose..."

"I didn't," Zabini said softly, a distinctly menacing tone creeping into his voice. "And I wanted another son. I had a new, young wife who was already pregnant, but there was no guarantee that it would be a boy, so I helped Narcissa. But then my new child was a boy, to whom I gave my own name, so I felt free to ignore Narcissa's bastard and let Lucius think he'd got her pregnant at last..." He shook his head. "But my Blaise never showed a bit of ambition. Some Slytherin!"

"Where is he now?" Draco wanted to know. "I mean--we're evidently talking about my brother here. Or my half-brother, who I didn't even know was in my dorm for seven years! Where the hell is he?"

"You were there already... My London house... My son is the one who verified for me once and for all that it really was the right spell. I had him under Imperius so he wouldn't leave the house and he'd do whatever I wanted. I was always rubbish at Latin but he was a bit of a swot in school... What he didn't realise was that I was going to test the spell on him first, since he'd said he hadn't been with a woman... I brought him here in the middle of the night, even though he said that midnight on Easter would be best, and when it didn't work I almost called off everything... Then he confessed that he'd been with a man--more than one, actually, rather than women. That's why he was no longer untouched... He said that the spell should work on the children, especially if we waited for Easter. If I hadn't needed him to continue to make the Polyjuice Potion I'd have killed him then and there!"

"Why, you old bigoted--" Hermione started to say before she was interrupted.

"Oh, yeah!" Goyle said, speaking for the first time. "That's right. I did reckon it was odd that Zabini was with your mum, Draco, when I'd seen him with a couple of different blokes when we were in school... Not doing much, mind you, but maybe with more privacy they..."

"You couldn't have bothered to tell me this?" Draco ground out between clenched teeth.

"Well, don't look at me... Crabbe saw him, too. We didn't think... we thought he'd changed his mind about whether he fancied men or women. Or decided he liked both. Didn't seem like it really mattered, did it?" It seemed to Harry that his tone toward Draco was markedly changed; he wasn't cowed by Draco's hostility but was standing up for himself and his friend.

"Didn't matter? Didn't matter?" Draco growled at them. Narcissa seemed as upset as he was.

"Idiots! You could have told me, as well," she said. "I thought it was odd that he, well, that he was so exactly like his father in the way he did certain things..."

Draco looked like he wanted to either hit his own mother over the head with a cast-iron pan or let Pansy do it again; Kingsley Shacklebolt decided to cut short the post-mortem. "We'd better get this lot back to the Ministry, then," Shacklebolt said, gesturing toward Zabini, Narcissa, Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. "We already have signed agreements with you two, and it seems that you've held up your ends," he said, nodding to Draco's hulking friends.

"What about them?" Hermione asked, giving Draco and Pansy a hostile glare. "Are they turning Queen's evidence as well?"

"Merlin's evidence, you mean," Neville said, gently correcting her.

Shacklebolt shrugged. "Up to them. If you do decide to turn Merlin's evidence," he said, speaking to Draco and Pansy, "we can draw up a similar agreement. Unless you want to share a cell in Azkaban with this old coot... and your mum..." he added to Draco.

Draco and Pansy didn't seem anxious to do this at all, and Narcissa, to Pansy's disappointment, also seemed interested in testifying against Zabini. Shacklebolt had soon conjured a Portkey out of a branch he'd pulled off a topiary; he and Neville were preparing to leave with the prisoners when Shacklebolt turned to Hermione and said, "You'll bring that book to the Ministry when you're through with it?" She nodded wordlessly, her nose buried in the pages again. Neville kissed her on the forehead before taking hold of the Portkey as Shacklebolt counted down, "Three...two...one..."

Suddenly they were gone, in a maelstrom of magical wind and power that made the hair stand up on the back of Harry's neck. Ginny bounced Frances in her arms while Harry continued to hold Charlotte. "What I don't understand is how someone trying to take a child's power manages to lose his own power," Harry said as Charlotte squirmed in his arms.

Teddy's, Nate's and Julian's voices overlapped each other's now as they described what happened in the chamber. "And then I summoned the wands--and they came to me," Teddy said breathlessly, his audience hanging on his every word.

"But--you did not use a wand for the spell, no?" his Aunt Fleur asked, flustered. Percy and Penelope were now peering over Hermione's hands at the book hovering before her; suddenly, Percy's finger was stabbing at the page they were on and Hermione and Penelope were grinning.

"That's what happened!" Hermione exclaimed. "He didn't pay attention to the conjugation of the verb!"

"What?" Harry said, striding over to her.

"Well, he said that Latin wasn't his strong suit, or else he'd have seen that it's not saying, 'Give me power,' it's saying, 'I give power.'" They all tried to gather round the book now. She turned some of the thick old parchment pages and pointed at a lengthy Latin commentary written so small that the letters looked like ants crawling across the page.

Harry felt as thought he'd just woken up from a very long sleep. "No, he wouldn't have seen it. Remember? He said that his son told him it was the right spell, and that he'd been a swot in school. Zabini was a swot, and he would have known exactly what the spell did."

Ginny dropped her jaw. "He purposefully told his dad it was the right spell when he knew that performing it on a child would cause his dad to transfer to his power to that child. He knew exactly what he was doing!"

"Why didn't Zabini just order his son to tell him the absolute truth, since he had him under Imperius?" Ron asked.

"He must have fought it," Harry whispered, thinking about his own experiences with Imperius. "After a while he must have been able to fake it and he made his dad think he was still doing everything he was told..."

Arthur whistled through his teeth. "Perhaps we should see about young Zabini getting the Order of Merlin when this is all over..."

But Hermione's nose was still buried in the book. "From what I can tell, this is a spell that someone old and dying can use to give his or her power to someone, as a parting gift, you might say. But the recipient has to be 'physically pure', it says, and not know about the gift of power. The one who receives the power cannot be seeking more power or the spell won't work. And it says that there are loads of times when dying grandparents or great-grandparents had intended to use the spell to give away their power but changed their minds at the last minute, in case they weren't really dying, and usually, when they were dying it turned out to be too late, or they couldn't speak, or no one else was around. That sort of thing. So it hasn't been done that often. Although... according to this, it was done in Bavaria, over a hundred years ago..." She gasped and lifted her face to the others. "The great-great-grandfather and great-great-grandmother of Grindelwald gave him their power when he was eight years old and they were dying."

"Grindelwald!" Harry said in shock. "But he--but Dumbledore--"

"Yes," said Hermione, nodding grimly. "Exactly."

Ron and Luna were holding their four children closely now, as if they never wanted to let them go. "Giving up power isn't human nature. No wonder the spell has hardly ever been used," Luna said quietly. She met Percy's eyes again with her unblinking gaze. "I do wish I'd said something about the possibility that you weren't really you, which was the other explanation I could think of for your behavior, other than amnesia. But considering what I knew other people thought of you, I couldn't think of a single reason why anyone would want to pretend to be you." She said this unblinkingly, as if completely unworried about possibly offending him.

Ginny nodded. "A motive can usually make everything clearer, that's true." She hugged Ruby and Rory once more, even while holding Frances for Hermione. "I'm just so relieved!"

Pulling back from her, Ruby said, "The truly cool thing was when we discovered the magic carpet. Here, let us show you... All kids on the carpet!" she called, taking Charlotte from Harry's arms while Rory took Frances from Ginny; the others all did it immediately, sitting on the absurdly bright patterns surrounded by the browning Malfoy lawn.

"And Julian wished that it was like a cushion--" Ruby started saying.

"Right, like this: I wish this was a giant cushion instead of a carpet." Immediately, the carpet complied, puffing up and raising the children off the ground a few inches.

"I just wish," Nate said, lying back on the cushion, looking tired of telling about their adventures, "that I was already back home in London..."

"Me, too," Teddy agreed wearily, leaning sideways against Ruby's shoulder.

Suddenly, the magic carpet rose from the ground, making all of the children scream and cling to each other in shock; before anyone knew what was happening, it had shot up high in the air over the house and started streaking through the sky toward London.

Harry watched them go, his heart leaping into his throat. He immediately shouted, "Malfoy! Where are your brooms?" before he remembered that Malfoy had already been taken to the Ministry.

"They have a broom shed!" Arthur shouted back at him. " I'll get--"

"No time!" Harry said impatiently, drawing his wand. "Accio Malfoy's broom!"

A broom came shooting out of a small outbuilding near the corner of the house and Harry caught it deftly in his left hand, leaping onto the handle and kicking off into the air without another word to the rest of them. Ginny watched him go, streaking through the sky in the wake of the flying carpet. "He'll catch them," she said, her voice shaking. "He'll make sure they're all right." She turned and gave her father a fierce glare, as if he'd contradicted her. "We didn't go through all this to get them back only to lose them now."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The wind stung Harry's face and whipped his robes around his legs so hard that it was painful; it felt like Beaters were repeatedly hitting his legs with their bats instead of Bludgers. The carpet was speeding far ahead of him and he had to squint to see it in the darkness; as they moved swiftly away from the Malfoy estate clouds obscured the moon and they weren't yet close enough to the city for there to be light pollution, so the carpet with the children was a blur only marginally darker than the dark blue-black sky.

He urged the broom forward, still faster, starting to gain on the children. As they drew nearer to London Harry could see them a little better with the help of the numerous lights glowing below. But nearing London also brought him more worries, as he tried to urge Malfoy's broom on, drawing closer and closer to the children: he worried that they would fly directly into the enormous Ferris wheel on the banks of the Thames; he worried that they would fall off the carpet over St. Paul's and be stranded on the great dome of the cathedral. He worried that the queen would see them flying by her windows at Buckingham Palace (or was she in Scotland?) and notify the Muggle Prime Minister, who would complain to the Minister for Magic and demand that Harry and Ginny be fired from Hogwarts and Teddy and Nate expelled, while Ruby and Rory wouldn't be permitted to enter in September...

The carpet dipped down suddenly and Harry hesitated, not wanting to fly low enough for Muggles on the ground to be able to see him, preferring to remain high enough that they might think he was a plane or a helicopter. He looked down when he was over the spot where they had descended; he wasn't able to see them very clearly, but the children appeared to be on the ground, rolling up the carpet, which was flat again. Glancing around nervously, Harry dove almost straight down, wishing he'd had the time to put on his Invisibility Cloak before pursuing the children, hoping the Ministry wouldn't come down on him too hard.

He pulled up suddenly when he was within just a few feet of the ground. When he landed the children had almost finished entering an old building that been chopped up into a number of flats; there were at least a half-dozen buzzers on the doorframe, with crudely-lettered surnames on yellowing paper below each one. Immediately, Ruby and Rory dropped the end of the rolled-up carpet that they'd been carrying and ran to him. "Dad!" The twins threw their arms around him and Harry closed his eyes as he gathered them to him. They were nearly as tall as Ginny now and he no longer had to bend over to hug them. He felt as if he might have a nervous breakdown any moment; after getting his children back he felt he'd been this close to losing them again, and he didn't think he could take much more uncertainty where his kids were concerned.

"What happened?" he demanded of them all. "And why are you going into this building?"

"We live here with our mum," Nate told him, nodding at Julian; Nate and Teddy had been carrying the other end of the carpet but had had to put it down when the twins dropped the back end. "And we're not really certain what happened. After I said that wished I was home in London and Teddy said, 'Me too,' the next thing we knew we were on our way here. We had no idea the carpet could go so fast! And none of the other wishes we made were able to undo those wishes; we really did try, the whole way here, but nothing worked."

While Nate spoke Teddy examined his shoes; Harry watched him as he listened to Nate, wondering why Teddy looked so guilty, and why he hadn't greeted Harry. Some acknowledgment of his presence would have been nice. "All right, then," Harry said, "go on and take the carpet up to your flat. We're better off talking upstairs, I expect," he added, tucking the broom behind his back and smiling feebly at the perplexed Muggles passing by, gawping at Harry and the twelve children with the rolled-up carpet.

Harry was relieved when they finally reached the flat; Nate and Julian suddenly realised that they didn't have a key but it took only a moment for Harry to get them in with a quick Alohomora. The children spilled through the door; Nate, Teddy and the twins dropped the carpet in the living room while Marguerite carried the babies to the couch. Two of Ron's little boys bounced on an armchair and ottoman. Harry was about to tell them to settle down, but one look at Teddy's face changed his mind; there were more important things to talk about.

"Teddy--can I see you in the kitchen? Nate--you're in charge of the other kids. It's your flat, after all. After everyone's had a chance to get their bearings I'll take you all to the Ministry. No more magic, though. We'll use the Underground."

"Okay. Oi, Cedric and Hal! Stop that bouncing!" Nate's brows knit and he strode over to the little boys. Harry couldn't help smiling at how much Nate sounded like the Percy he'd first met when he'd started Hogwarts. He walked into the tiny kitchen, Teddy following him without a word.

Harry sat at the small table in the middle of the room and gestured to the chair on the opposite side. Teddy sat, still not meeting his eyes. "Teddy," he began, but his son interrupted him.

"All right, say it, say it!" Teddy cried, lifting shining eyes to Harry.

Harry hesitated. "Say what?"

"I'm going to be evil now, aren't I? Like that Grindelwald!" Harry had never seen his son more thoroughly miserable.

Harry took a deep breath. "Is that what you think? That you're doomed to be evil now because you received power you weren't seeking? Because you selflessly threw yourself in the path of a spell meant for someone who had been trying to get you killed not too long ago? Teddy, if there's one thing that I've learned since I found out that I'm a wizard, it's that power isn't the problem. What people do with it--that's the problem. Or doing anything at all with it. Nothing says that you have to--"

"But you saw what happened!" Teddy whispered desperately, his eyes going to the doorway, as if afraid of the others overhearing. "Yeah, it was cool when I managed to summon those wands without having one myself. Not that Zabini was a threat anymore. But when I agreed with Nate's wish--I actually meant that I also wished I was home again, too, at Latere Farm--the carpet wouldn't listen to anyone else's wish. And I was afraid to wish anything else, after what 'Me, too' got us."

Harry nodded sympathetically. "I know what it's like to--to have abilities you'd rather not have. The first time I spoke Parseltongue at school... well, afterward Ron and Hermione looked at me as if I really was the Heir of Slytherin. Loads of other kids in the school thought I was too, just because I could speak snake-language. Voldemort was a Parselmouth; I didn't like being associated with him any more than you like being associated with Grindelwald. But did I model myself on Voldemort? Do you have to model yourself on Grindelwald? Of course not." He sighed and looked at his hands on the table. "That was why Dumbledore didn't want the Ministry using the Dementors to guard Azkaban. They represent a great and awesome power, but an evil one. For the Ministry to use that power at all, even for something like keeping prisoners subdued, was evil in itself. Dumbledore was never sorry that we had to stop using them at the prison.

"Witches and wizards need to exercise self-control; we're not supposed to use magic willy-nilly in front of Muggles. Kids aren't supposed to do magic away from school until they're seventeen. You'll have a slightly more challenging bit of self-control to exercise, but I think you can do it."

Teddy looked at his dad, wondering. "So--is that why you don't do magic much when you're at St Clare's? Self-control?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, you've got it. I mean--I know that most witches and wizards use magic a lot in their everyday lives. Cooking and keeping food fresh and Apparating here and there. The Floo network. Summoning charms that mean you don't need to walk up and down stairs constantly, or even cross the room. But somehow... I don't know. After I got back from Beyond the Veil with Ron, using magic that way seemed so--so trivial. It cheapened what we could do. I felt, after that, that magic should be reserved for things that were really important. Maybe using magic that way leads people to deciding to abuse it in other ways, after all. You never know. A slippery-slope sort of thing. Muggles get by without it. They abuse other sorts of power, but that's another story... Do you understand what I'm saying? Don't think that you have to use power because you have it. Or that you have to use it a certain way. Zabini made a big mistake; he assumed that he could take power. Another thing I've learned since I was eleven is that you can't. You can only be given power. Zabini never learned that, I reckon."

"No, he definitely never learned that," Teddy whispered, and Harry remembered Nate's saying, in the jumble of words back at the Malfoys', that Zabini had put the Cruciatus Curse on Teddy; his heart ached to think of it, to think of his boy going through that. He wasn't even fourteen yet, the age Harry had been when Voldemort had tortured him in the graveyard at Little Hangleton...

"Quirrell said something to me when he was trying to get the Philosopher's Stone from the Mirror of Erised, a power that I received because I didn't want to use it. He said, 'There is no good or evil; only power, and those too weak to seek it.' He was basically right about the good or evil part. There is only power. But he was wrong about being weak if you don't seek it; you're weak if all you do is seek power. You have to have all the strength in the world to refrain from seeking more power, or abusing the power that you have. That's what he didn't get, what Voldemort didn't get, what Grindelwald didn't get. That's what Dumbledore has always known, and what he taught me. That's why we teach defence against the Dark Arts, why using magic against someone else is considered a last resort, something you only do in defence. And I think that's what you already know, Teddy, or you wouldn't be so worried about this."

Teddy seemed to feel a bit better. "Thanks, Dad," he said simply, just as Nate appeared at the doorway.

"Erm, Uncle Harry?" Nate said tentatively. "We've got a couple of problems. First, I just remembered--it's still Easter. No Underground today."

"What? Not at all?" Harry said, perplexed.

"You've never lived in London, have you, Uncle Harry?" Nate said, shaking his head.

"Well, not in a Muggle house, at any rate. Brilliant," Harry said, running his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "I have plenty of Muggle money, but no wizarding currency, so we can't take the Knight Bus... What's the other problem?"

"Most everybody is passed out. Asleep, that is. Long day." He stood aside so that Harry and Teddy could see into the living room, where the other ten children were peacefully snoring, some on the couch and chairs, some on the magic carpet.

Harry sighed again. "All right. I'll send a message to Ginny and she can tell the others that we're going to spend the night here. We'll go to the Ministry first thing in the morning." Suddenly a yawn overcame him. "I could do with a lie-down myself."

"Why don't you and Teddy take my mum's bedroom? I've got my own bed, and I'll move Julian to his. Could you give me a hand with him, Teddy?" Nate also yawned now. "I only just realised how tired I am... Be good to lie down..."

Harry took out his mobile while the boys moved the sleeping Julian from an armchair to his own bed; when Ginny finally answered she sounded frantic but he soon had her calmed as he explained what had happened.

"Oh, dear. He was afraid that having Zabini's power would make him evil?"

"I was afraid of the same thing. For myself, that is, when I found out I was a Parselmouth."

"I see... Well, I'll hail the Knight Bus and we'll be there in a blink. I'll ask Penny where it is..."

"Actually, Ginny," Harry said quickly, "don't do that." He walked into the living room, where the children were sleeping peacefully. "They're all knackered. Let's let them sleep where they are. A reunion now with their parents will be chaos again. They'll be wound up for the rest of the night. Everyone's safe, so let's all get some sleep and we'll take the Underground to the Ministry in the morning. Besides, I think Penelope and Percy may want to have a real reunion where there aren't already thirteen people sleeping..."

"Hmm... Hermione's frantic! But--all right. I'll convince the others. No point in disturbing the kids."

"Everything will be fine. I'll make certain that the babies have clean nappies and everyone is tucked up warmly. Don't worry."

Ginny laughed. "So, now that we've had four kids to take care of, and sometimes five and six when Nate and Donna are visiting, you've decided that a dozen will be a breeze?"

"Well, Trelawney did say, once, that I would have twelve kids and be the Minister for Magic," he responded, trying not to laugh or speak too loudly. "One down, one to go..."

"You silly." She paused for a moment. "I love you. Sleep well. See you in the morning."

"I will. Love you," he responded before he rang off. He put the mobile back in his pocket and regarded the sleeping children once more. They were his responsibility, at least tonight, so perhaps Trelawney had been right about that, even though she was only trying to annoy Dolores Umbridge.

"Good old Sybill," he said softly, his heart clenching as he looked at one innocent, childish face after the other. "You could only get it right when you weren't even trying," he chuckled, leaning over to kiss Ruby and Rory on the tops of their heads.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Harry awoke it was still before dawn. He was startled to see that Teddy was awake, standing at the window in Penelope's bedroom, looking out at the quiet London street on which the Clearwaters lived.

"You should get some more sleep, Teddy."

"Like you?" he said, grinning. Harry felt a warmth in his chest at seeing his son smile at him so naturally, looking so happy. Harry smiled back at him.

"Yeah, like me. Come on..."

"Can't. I'm too keyed up. Too--restless," Teddy said, pacing before the window, swinging his arms. "Is this what it was like for you? What it was like to--well, you know, to--"

"To be the hero?"

Teddy turned red. "Well, I reckon that's the best way to put it..."

Harry looked closely at Teddy and took a deep breath. "Sit down. What I'm about to tell you isn't in any of the history books. Ron knows, because he was there, and Hermione knows, of course, plus Ginny and Luna and Neville. And Dumbledore. But none of us ever told anyone else. Not a single reporter, historian, Harry Potter biographer, you name it. Oh, and not Ginny's parents. They wouldn't understand..."

"Understand what?" Teddy asked, frowning.

"How I really defeated Voldemort."

Teddy stared at him. "You're joking. Everything I've read says that you just took Voldemort through the Veil and came back with Ron. And that was that. You're really going to tell me what happened?"

"It was a bit more complicated... You see, most of the accounts make it sound like I intended to take Voldemort through the Veil, that that was my plan all along..."

"It wasn't?"

"No. Never occurred to me, actually. I had a different idea. See, at the end of my fifth year I found out about the prophecy that made Voldemort want to kill me when I was a baby. The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches... born as the seventh month dies... And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives...

"So, naturally, I was a bit depressed by the idea that I had to kill or be killed. And I wasn't terribly impressed by Dumbledore telling me that the power I had that Voldemort didn't was love. However, by my seventh year I was thinking about my power a little differently. When I was in the Department of Mysteries in my fifth year, I had this knife that Sirius gave me that could open anything. Almost. It couldn't open this one door in the Department of Mysteries. Instead it melted the knife when I tried."

"What was on the other side of the door?" Teddy asked.

"I didn't know, but my best guess was something to do with the mystery of Love. We'd seen rooms in the Department of Mysteries for Time and Space, and there was the Hall of Prophecies and the Death Chamber, with the Veil... So I thought, if I could find a way through that door and I could work out how to use it, use Love to get rid of Voldemort...

"So Ron and I went to see Dumbledore; he knew the password because he was a prefect. Neville was already in Dumbledore's office, talking to him about going into the Auror training program after leaving school. I pretended that that was why I'd come to see him, too, and Ron as well, but after Neville left, we told him that we wanted permission from the Ministry to go through that door, so I could find out how to use the power of Love to defeat Voldemort..."

Dumbledore put his fingers together in a steeple and looked over the gnarled hands at Harry and Ron, sitting before his desk. "So--what really brings you here on this fine spring evening?"

Harry swallowed and said, "I've thought a lot about the Prophecy and the power that I have that Voldemort doesn't. About Love. And I've also been thinking about that door in the Department of Mysteries that I couldn't get through two years ago... I think that could be the key to defeating Voldemort."

"So was it?" Teddy wanted to know. "Was that what really happened, what isn't in the books?"

"Yes," Harry told him, hesitating. "And no."

---