The Human Condition

Chapter Ten: The International Wizard Bureau of Investigation

"Guilty," hung in the air for all to hear. It rang in Harry's ears as if ringing was all he heard. For some reason Harry's neck turned his head to the right to see the prosecution table. Auferre looked only slightly pleased with the verdict. Jake Verit had his chin in his hand and had his eyes cast downward. When Harry looked back at the three judges, he noticed that Arthur was staring at him. For a moment they simply stared into each other's eyes. Arthur had known Harry for so long as a good person, yet here he sat, presiding and soon to be deciding Harry's sentence for uncommitted crimes.

Suddenly Harry's thoughts were cut short as the back doors opened in a flurry then slammed shut. For some reason Harry flipped around to see. He saw a dark cloak slide through the doors then vanish. Then he heard the buzzing of the courtroom, all a flurry over the verdict.

"I want order!" Giles called out as he pounded his gavel, which he hadn't used at all. Harry pulled himself around to face the front. "I will have order in this courtroom." He waited a few seconds for the chatter to die down then continued to speak. "Now," he began in a shaking voice. "The prosecution has submitted to me the sentencing."

Harry refused to believe he was even sitting where he was sitting. It couldn't be happening to him. This wasn't real. This had to be a nightmare. An intricate, complex, and eerily realistic nightmare, but still just a bad dream.

Harry had never stayed in a court long enough to know how sentencing was handled. He knew that Muggle legal systems were similar to the wizarding way, but had some differences. The Muggles usually waited a while to decide sentencing, but it seemed that it was one of the differences--wizards decided right away.

"Of course," Giles continued, "the defense can file an appeal if you choose, but Mr. Potter will need to serve his time in the meanwhile." He sorted through some of his papers, pulled his glasses off his face, cleaned them, and replaced them. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Verit, will you please stand."

Jake stood up first then looked down at Harry, who placed his hands on the table and pushed himself up.

"It is the will of the court," Giles began, looking straight at Harry, "and of its judges and jury, that you, Harry James Potter, be sentenced to one-hundred and fifty years in the maximum security wizard prison, Vincula Solitarum. Your fate will then be determined upon release, should you live to see that day. You will not be allowed outside contact by anyone until you are released. There is no parole. On a personal note," he said, "I find it disturbing that you have channeled your abilities into such a murderous cause. You have lied to everyone, even your friends. May your time be spent on reflecting what it is you've done and, I hope your victims haunt your sleep." Giles let his gavel fall once more. The courtroom broke out into sound as three bailiffs, who happened to be highly trained Hit Wizards, led Harry out of the court and into a separate room.

In it was a very small table and two chairs. Harry was seated in one of them and told to wait. Minutes later, Audrey, whose face was red and dripping with tears, streamed inside with Dana beside her, who was obviously confused. Harry stood up and walked toward them. Sobbing loudly now, Audrey threw her arms around him and sobbed into his neck. But Harry still couldn't believe it.

"Why is mummy cwying?" Dana asked as she hugged Harry's leg. Audrey pulled back and wiped her eyes as she started to hyperventilate.

"It'll be okay," Harry heard himself say. He picked up Dana, possibly for the last time, and sat down in his chair while Audrey sat across the table. "Nothing's escape proof anymore," he said numbly. Dana wrapped her small chubby arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. "It may take a while," he continued dully, "but I'll get out."

Audrey didn't seem soothed by his proclamation. Instead the speed of her flowing tears seemed to increase tenfold. She managed to stifle her hyperventilation and sobbing, but instead she cried silently as she stared at him.

"I've been a good saver," Harry went on in his same dull tone. Half of him couldn't believe he was even speaking. "There should be plenty of money in my account. You won't ever have to work or want for anything if you're smart about it. And Aiden's account should've built up some more since you haven't used it for years now. Put that towards Hogwarts, okay?" he asked. He felt an unfamiliar painful burning in his eyes as he stared at her.

Audrey chewed on her lips and nodded at him, her eyes over-bright with her tears. "And," he continued, feeling his chest contract, "and if you wouldn't mind," he said, "maybe you could encourage her, not force her, to tryout for the house Quidditch team?"

Audrey sniffed loudly and wiped her face with the back of her hands.

"I know you were in Ravenclaw, but I'm hoping she's a Gryffindor," Harry went on. "I only wish you could tell me somehow," he said. He closed his eyes when he felt his own tears brimming in his eyes. "But maybe," he started again, "maybe I'll get out and I'll watch her play, as a stranger, kinda like Sirius did with me."

Dana finally looked up at him and put her small hands on his cheeks. "Why awre you sad?" she asked with a morose frown. "Daddy, can we go home now?" she asked in her cute voice that Harry would never get enough of.

Harry took a deep breath and mustered a sad smile for her. "You and mum are going to go home soon, all right? I'm going on a little trip. But I'll see you soon, okay?"

Dana kissed his cheek and rested her head on his chest.

One of the bailiffs walked toward them. "Wrap it up," he told Harry.

"Go away," Harry told him for what it was worth. Then he looked back at Audrey and smiled at her. "I don't want you to be alone," he whispered to her. "It would hurt, but I would understand if you filed for... you know what, and found someone else."

Audrey started to shake her head at him, but Harry had to finish.

"You're still so young," he said to her, "just do it when you're ready and you need someone."

Audrey answered him in a husky voice, "I'll wait for you."

"Don't wait more than two years," he told her. "I know you don't need my permission if I'm..." he looked down at Dana and put his hand on her small, soft, head. He bent his head down and kissed her, then hugged her. "I love you," he told her. "I always will."

"I wove you twoo, daddy," she said as she lay there. Harry nodded to himself, the tears welling up in the bottom of his eyes so he could actually see them. He shut them and rested his chin on Dana's head as he hugged her and rocked her back and forth.

Audrey stood up and walked bravely around the table to be nearer to him.

"I love you," Harry said to his wife with his shaky voice. "I should've told you every day," he said. "I should've told you the day I met you, I was just too scared," he uttered.

"I knew then, and I know now," she replied. She kneeled down a little and lightly kissed his cheeks. "I always loved you," she said, "and I always will. Always, no matter what changes come our way." She rested her temple on his then slid her head so she could whisper in his ear. "I'll never stop loving you," she whispered, "no matter what," she said so softly it gave Harry chills because he knew she was sincere.

Harry stood up so suddenly he shocked himself. He gave Dana to Audrey, hugged them quickly, kissed them, and walked from the room so fast he took everyone, including himself, by surprise. After recovering from the jolt, the bailiffs escorted him out of the room.

He didn't look back.

Then he was led to another room, where Jake sat looking nervous. Harry didn't sit down when asked. He only stared at Jake, awaiting a speech.

"I'll appeal," Jake said.

"You shouldn't have lost," Harry growled, his fists clenched and shaking with rage. "There was zero evidence. Appeal? You better believe you will. Anything else you'd like to tell me before I rot in prison for crimes I didn't commit?" he asked. "Make it good, I just said goodbye the family I prayed for."

Jake looked up at him with frightened eyes and shook his head. "It's trivial, but the Ministry has cut you. You're no longer and Auror."

Harry swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah," he said through gritted teeth. "So I guess this is it. Good luck, Jake," he said, thrusting his hand out to him. "Tell Hermione and Ron that I'll miss them," he started darkly, shaking Jake's hand with a fearsome grip, "and that I thank them for their friendship and company when I needed it most. You'll do that, won't you? Promise me you'll do it? And when the time comes to write the history books, make sure it slants my way, will you?" he asked.

Jake nodded slightly and pulled his hand out of Harry's, then started to massage it with his other hand. Harry stared at Jake even as the bailiff's led him away to yet another room. This room was completely empty.

Harry was curious as to how they would arrive at Vincula. He had never been there, as the secret location was key to its superior security. He would rather it remain a mystery to him, but that was only a wish now.

"Cooperate Harry," one of the wizards said. Harry was sure he recognized the voice, but he didn't look at his face. But cooperating wasn't in his plans. If Harry was going to escape, now would be the time. There was no way, magical or physically, that three pitiful Hit Wizards would take him to Vincula. Cooperate? Yeah, over his dead and rotting body.

"How is this going to work?" Harry asked, measuring the wizards up and down with his eyes.

One of them gave a muffled laugh and patted Harry's shoulder. Another walked forward and stood in front of Harry, cracked his knuckles, then threw a punch at him.

Harry laughed inside at the effort. No one could take him down.

Harry was ready to fight before the punch was thrown and made to enter battle, but the wizard standing behind Harry whipped something from his pocket and covered Harry's nose and mouth with it and kept it there.

Harry thrashed to try to get away. He was pulling with his quickly diminishing strength at his captor's arm, trying to free himself from the poisoned cloth. He knew what it was. It was simple chloroform. They were taking him down, Harry Potter, conqueror of Lord Voldemort, with chloroform.

Harry tried kicking, but the other two wizards advanced and pushed the cloth harder against Harry's nose and mouth. Even though he wasn't breathing it in, he could feel the poison taking some effect. He could feel his face flush red from lack of oxygen, and his strength vanishing because of it.

"Be good, now," one of the wizards said to him. "Take a deep breath."

He was lightheaded now and sure he would faint, in which case he'd start breathing again. But it didn't stop him from trying. He fought as long as he could, eventually moving all four of them to a corner until he couldn't fight any longer. At last his body had to have air and despite his hard will, Harry took a deep breath and instantly felt weak. His head felt lighter than ever, his vision was fading to black, and his legs and arms gave in. He was out.

**

Harry heard someone groan, which he soon realized was his him. Then he sniffed something strange and potent that nearly made him retch. He tried pulling his head away, but wasn't successful.

"He's coming to," said a stranger someone sounding distant.

"Wakey, wakey," the same rough voice said, swimming closer to him. The man's thick hands grabbed Harry's jaw and pulled his whole head up. That's when Harry realized he was being held by his elbows by two other men presumably to keep from falling; his knees were collapsed, but the two men were holding him steady while the third had his jaw. "Come on now Potter, wake up." The man lightly slapped Harry's cheeks with his free hand.

Harry groaned again and lifted his eyelids halfway, but his vision was strangely blurred. The first thing he found was a name inscribed on a bronze bar pinned to a uniform. "M. Burg" was all it read.

"There he is," M. Burg said in an apathetic tone. "It's time to rise and shine, princess."

Harry's eyes opened more and moved up to see the man's blurry face. M. Burg had a round face, a five o'clock shadow, and black and gray frizzy hair. He gave Harry an insensitive and apathetic smile.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" M. Burg asked. He moved his hand from Harry's jaw and grabbed Harry's hair so he could force Harry to look in a certain direction. Then he held up a few fingers right in front of Harry's face.

Harry tried focusing on the fingers, but his eyes kept shifting out of focus and shutting against his will. He dropped his mouth open and squint at the fingers, willing himself to answer the simple question.

"Th-three," he slurred, dropping his mouth open as soon as he'd answered it.

"Very good," M. Burg said happily, releasing Harry's head--it fell to his chest. "Can you stand yet?"

The two men on either side of Harry relaxed their grip on him, but Harry's knees buckled and he dropped, only to be caught just before he hit the floor.

"Okay," M. Burg said. "I should tell you," he continued in his almost jovial tone, "that you're in Vincula now. You'll be staying with us until you're old and wrinkly and won't remember how to cast a simple spell. You're nearly twenty-four, so if you live out your sentence, which has happened before so there is hope, you'll be one-hundred and seventy-four years old when you leave. Now come on," he said walking away, "let's get you processed and settled in."

Harry tried resisting, but he was still too weak to even keep his head up. The two men holding him drug him as they followed M. Burg. Harry couldn't see the walls, only the floor, which was made of large, shiny dark tiles. Then they seemed to be turning him left into some kind of office where people were chattering. They became silent when Harry entered.

"Our newest guest is still coming to," Burg said loudly to whoever was in this room. Harry wasn't even sure how large or small the room was. But the room was cool on his strangely warm face. Finally Harry was dropped into a hard chair and his head lulled back so he could see around him.

The room was ordinary. There were fake windows around the square office depicting sunny and cloudless skies. There was a receptionist, which was strange to have in a prison, and a few other people who looked busy. At the moment, however, they were all staring at Harry.

Then Burg grabbed Harry's hand and started pushing his individual fingertips in a strange ink, then pushing them onto a slip of paper. Harry swallowed. "They did that already," he said slowly, managing not to slur this time.

"That's for them, this is for us," Burg answered. Someone else started pressing Harry's other set of fingers into ink and then paper. They finished with him shortly. "Time for a picture now. Be sure to smile," Burg said with a chuckle. Harry managed to give him a dirty look, which was childish, he knew, but it was something. Once the fingerprints were filed away, they drug him to a wall, pushed him against it, and gave him a name plate to hold. Harry had to lean against the wall to keep from slipping forward and falling flat on his face.

"Say cheese!" Burg said gleefully as he took the picture. Harry closed his eyes when the flash went off, then dropped the plate and gave Burg the finger. Burg chuckled again and had Harry seized and led off to yet another room.

This room was full of filing cabinets and cubby shelves. Harry was escorted to the main counter.

"Time to remove your belongings," Burg said, looking down at Harry's rings. "You'll get them back when you leave in the next century."

Harry shook his head. "No," he simpered. "You can't."

"Rules, Potter," Burg answered flatly. "Take off the band, the Auror ring, and that, is that a cross? Wow, never figured you'd be a religious guy. How do you feel about your God now, eh?" Burg picked up a small envelope, opened it, and waited for Harry to remove his things. "Come on, now. Give."

Harry looked down at his wedding ring, which he'd put back on just yesterday--he saw Audrey's grinning face flash before his mind. He pulled it off, then his Auror ring, which stood for nothing now; he yanked the glass cross from his neck, snapping the nylon rope, and gave it to Burg with his two rings.

"And the rubber band you've got around your wrist. Whatever the hell that is, I need it."

Harry looked at it. "You can't have this."

"And why's that? We've been over this before, Potter. Hand it over."

Harry shook his head and felt his eyes burn again. "No. My daughter gave it to me. It's her kiss," he whispered as he ran his finger over it.

Burg sighed and put out his hand. "Sentimental or not, you have to give it to me. Please hurry, my shift ends when I put you away."

Harry stared to breathe heavily as he looked at it.

"You either remove it, or I'll cut it off and toss it away. Get me?" he asked.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled it off his wrist and handed it to Burg.

"Good. Now you're a tall kid, but small across the middle. Broad shoulders, too." He looked Harry up and down and pulled some clothes, dark gray in color, from a shelf. "Should be your size. Go on and change now," he said. "We're all men here."

Harry undid the fastening of his cloak, tossed it at Burg, then proceeded to undress then redress in the Vincula uniforms. They fit loosely and reminded Harry of Dudley's old clothes.

"All right," Burg said, clapping his hands together. "We're ready now. Follow me, Potter."

Harry didn't have a choice whether he followed the insensitive screw-ball or not. He was once more escorted by force down a very wide hallway. The floor was shiny and dark here as well. There were a few strange lights floating along the tall hallway, zooming past the bare walls. But what was strange was the absence of doors. There was only one door, an open one, to the right just a few meters away.

"Where's everyone else?" Harry asked.

Burg smiled and knocked on the solid walls as he walked down the hall. "The doors seal up into the wall and don't open again until the sentence is over, or until there's a dead body in there," he said lightly.

Harry felt as if someone had socked him in the gut. "What if--"

"No what ifs," Burg said. When they came to the door, they walked inside immediately. Harry expected and wanted to warm into it, but no one cared what he wanted anymore. The cell was ten by twelve feet and not as bare as Harry thought it would be. There was a twin size bed in one corner, a toilet in another corner, and the rest was free space. The cell was certainly taller than he'd expected and on one wall there was a ticking clock, which also displayed the date.

"Over here," Burg started as he walked to a corner, "is your dispenser. At eight, twelve, and six, you're food will pop up here," he said, motioning at the solid wall. "Each day at seven in the evening, it will open up again giving you fresh clothes and expecting you to give it the old ones. If you miss any of these times, it will disappear and you'll have to wait for the next time around. Lights," he said, signaling to the ceiling where there was no visible source of light, but it was bright. "Lights go out at eight each night, and come back on at six in the morning. Now, what else," he said looking around. "Oh, showers. You get to shower each night, after you've given your clothes and gotten your fresh ones. Water comes on over in the same corner as the dispenser at seven each evening. And once a week, the dispenser gives you new bedding in exchange for the old ones. Oh, about the bedding. It's impossible to choke yourself with sheets, and there's no place to hang yourself from. Suicide is impossible. Any questions?" he asked.

Harry looked around the small space. "What if I have an aneurysm or a heart attack or something?" he asked.

"You won't," Burg said with a grin. "At least not a heart attack. Aneurysm, I'm not so sure about, but it'd kill you, no doubt. I'd imagine that you'd welcome one of those after a few years in here. So if that's it, we'll be leaving you now. If you're still alive when your sentence ends, then someone will come to get you. Probably won't be me, though." He turned with his two guards and went to leave. None of them turned around to watch Harry or even say goodbye, they just shut the door and were gone. And Burg was right. The cracks of the door disappeared into the rest of the wall, as if there had never been a door at all.

Harry wasn't sure how much time passed as he stood there, facing the once-door. The only thing he could hear was his own breathing and the noise of his saliva going down his throat when he swallowed. But that was it. Eventually he turned his head to examine the room.

The walls were smooth and gray. There weren't any cracks, mortar, or small holes, or any sign of character in them. The bed was fit with cold gray sheets, which were a shade darker than his current and permanent apparel. There was no mirror, no sink, no window, and no possibility of escape.

He still couldn't believe this was real. He looked down at himself and ran his hands down his strange new clothes. They weren't uncomfortable; the fabric was soft and loose. But hey were too big for him, yet tight around his shoulders. He grabbed the sleeves and tugged at them until they pulled off the seams with a loud rip. The air inside wasn't cold--it wasn't warm. It just...was.

He shuffled to his bed in his floppy shoes and sat down. Not even the bed creaked.

"All alone again," Leucosia said from his side.

But Harry didn't whirl around to face her. His heart rate didn't increase. He wasn't short of breath. He remained calm and unconcerned for what she had to say. What else could she possibly do to him now? Why should he continue to fear her?

"I told you this would happen," she went on.

Harry still didn't look. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing his miserable face. Leucosia walked to stand in front of him. "They do not know the real value of you," she said with a smile as she bent down to look into his eyes. "But I do, Harry."

Harry raised his eyes from the floor to look into hers. "What now?" he asked her dully as if he were annoyed by her presence.

She smiled snidely. "What would you like?"

Harry considered her question for a moment and frowned. "I'd like it if you'd stop playing mind games. I'd like it if you didn't treat me like a play thing. I'd like it if you showed your face to the world to prove I'm not 'delusional,' " he said flatly. He sighed and relaxed his shoulders as he stared.

"Fair enough," she said.

Harry's shoulders re-tensed. "What?" he asked, convinced it was one of her tricks.

"Oh, you really should not anticipate anything happening quite so soon, but all you ask will come in due time. But I will stop the mind games with you, I promise, though it will detract from my main entertainment venue. There are some things, however, that I will not be able to oblige you. Escape, for one, security, the other. But I will give you happiness, Harry, should you choose correctly," she said with a serious tone.

Harry folded his hands and shook his head. "I'm not evil."

"No," she said, "you are not. No one is born evil. One requires the proper development, the correct nurturing, or lack thereof, and encouragement to see what and who they really are. You see, I would not have been quite so interested in you had you not killed for revenge. Not one thought entered your mind when you killed, only pain and anger."

Harry didn't look up at her but tightened his grip on his own fingers.

"That kind of sin is understandable, right Harry?" she asked. "Your friends did not and still will not tell the truth, will they? Humans are a strange species. It is permissible to kill in one circumstance, but wrong in the other?"

"But I wasn't thinking then," Harry said. "And the man I killed murdered Mrs. Weasley. I killed the enemy who had killed my best friend's mother. There are differences between war and peacetimes, Leucosia. I will not kill innocents just for the sake of your amusement."

"You would not have to," she said softly as she stood. "No one needs to die. But do not lie to me. I know you enjoyed killing that Death Eater so many years ago. You had to have enjoyed it for the spell to work. Death is so powerful and murder even more so. A life of possibilities," she said waving her hand, "wiped out by your own hand. You took pleasure in it."

Harry stood up now so he could look down on her. "I didn't."

"Fine," she said with a smile, "I will give you the benefit of the doubt."

"I don't want to see you again," Harry said at last standing up to her. "Leave me alone. Just leave me to rot in peace."

Leucosia started to pace around but didn't answer him.

"Frankly you're starting to annoy me," Harry said. "You can't scare me, you can't threaten me, and you can't hurt me because you're as solid as a ghost. That and the way you talk is just..." he sighed and rolled his eyes. "You could say whatever you wanted to say in half the time if you weren't trying so hard to sound impressive and intimidating."

Leucosia continued to pace, moving her head like a mantis as she watched him. "You think you have me figured?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"You're not a delusion of mine, that's for sure. You need me because you can't do anything in this reality. You need me on your side because you can't beat me. I'm sure you're familiar with the expression, 'if you can't beat them, join them.' That's what you want from me. You want my power, because I have it in droves. The public hasn't even seen the kind of power I possess, and neither have you. You're immune to it, aren't you? I can't invade your mind, I can't astound you with my superior physicality, and I can't impress you with wand work or telekinetic abilities. Why is that? Oh, that's right," Harry said mockingly, "every time I've seen you it's been on your terms, when I'm at the disadvantage. You're not as mighty as you think you are, Leucosia. Sure you have a fancy name, you're beautiful, and you have a great grasp on the simplicity of humanity, but when it comes right down to it, you're nothing."

But Leucosia did not seem greatly affected. Instead her smile widened to a toothy grin. "Nothing?" she asked.

"That's what I said. You think you sound more 'evil' if you take everything I say and turn it into a question?" he asked, bearing down on her.

"Perhaps you misunderstand me. You are currently located in Vincula, an inescapable prison. You were found guilty of conspiracy to murder and as leader of my Black Order. You know why, Harry? Your public abandoned you. I will not."

"I won't take your offer," Harry said again.

Leucosia stared at him for a few seconds, then let out an echoing laugh, which sent a chill down his spine.

"I said I would offer it again, but I have not offered it to you yet, have I? You think that is the reason I stand before you now?" She shook her head and made a clucking sound in her throat as she shook her finger at him. "Remember what I said about assumptions? Dangerous assumptions, Harry. I believe you assume far too much to be safe. You think I cannot hurt you, now? Dangerous. You think I am powerless in this dimension? Dangerous. You think I cannot cause you physical pain in this reality? Well, we shall wait and see. I would advise you to be more skeptical, Harry. And never assume. Good day to you," she said with a nod then vanished from his sight.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed as he fell back on his new bed. He opened his eyes to stare at his gray ceiling and listen to the sounds of his mind.

**

At first Harry considered it a benefit that the prison allowed him to know exactly what date and time it was, down to the millisecond. This way he wouldn't have to add the days in his head to the point of going insane. But when July the seventh rolled around and his red clock struck 4:07:18 in the evening, he was sure the clock was a new form of torture. Instead of thinking he'd been inside for a long while, he knew that he had only endured a few weeks.

He would be twenty-four years old in twenty-four days. He would know when Dana was celebrating her fourth birthday without him, or when Audrey would hit the big three-zero. And he wouldn't be there. He would be alone again for Christmas, his family celebrating without him. Audrey had lost a second husband and Dana had lost a second father. It was a pointless yet difficult loss for all of them.

The monotony and routine living was making him crazy, or so he believed. He had never been a "social butterfly" who would constantly need attention. On the contrary, he would sometimes seek solitude. But this was beyond loneliness. For days he didn't even get out of bed. This way he made his own noise; his stomach would grumble almost constantly from hunger. He would look over at the dispenser, watch his food appear then disappear a few minutes later. Harry's eyes would roll back to that gray ceiling and glaze over as he practiced not thinking.

When the lights came on the next morning, Harry lay awake staring at his gray ceiling, contemplating whether or not he could turn the lights off with his mind. After a few hours of deep concentration toward his new objective he fell back asleep and missed his lunch. He couldn't take starving himself for another day. It had to be one of the worst ways to slowly kill yourself, starving. He was determined not to miss his dinner so he rose out of bed and paced around the cell waiting like a hungry lion.

By the eleventh of July, Harry's unspent energy was finally getting to him. Harry flipped over his bed, pulled the mattress out of its metal bed frame, and pushed the frame up against the wall, enabling him to use it for pull-ups. Harry had to tuck his legs behind him so he could hang properly, then pulled himself to the bar, then controlled himself as he went back down. There was really no point in counting how many he did. What was he going to do, brag to the other prisoners with how many pull-ups he could do? He figured he did over fifty, at least it felt like over fifty. His biceps were burning all night long and were sore the next morning. But he didn't stop exercising.

He would stand on one side of the cell, push off the wall, and sprint to the other side of the cell. When he reached the other side, he would run on the wall then flip backwards and end up on the floor again. He did this until he was too tired. Next, Harry took deep cleansing breaths and concentrated on standing on his hands. He had never been able to do this before. It's not that he lacked the strength for it, he just lost balance each and every time. Now was no different. Harry attempted the maneuver fifteen times, each resulting in a loud fall, before telling himself he'd try it again the next day.

He resumed his pull-ups. But Harry's physique wasn't as scrawny as it had once been. The main bar suddenly gave way from his weight and snapped. The shift in balance caused the frame to fall backwards. Instead of preventing himself from falling, as he probably would have done in a normal and free circumstance, he fell with the frame and hit the floor with a painful thud. It felt like the back of his head took most of plunge. When Harry opened his eyes, tiny stars were zooming toward the center of his vision, but vanished when they got there. He rolled over from his back to his stomach and rubbed the back of his head. Now the floor was strangely cold to his skin and he wasn't sure why. But it was icy and he stayed there.

He stayed there for two days straight, his rough face to the floor, his dull and empty eyes staring at where the door used to be. He would blink when he had too, but he didn't want to. When the lights went out and the cell was a black box, Harry kept his eyes open until his eyes watered. For some reason it was the only way he could cry. No one had really seen him cry, save Doctor Simon who caught him when he was on drugs in the hospital. Not even Audrey had seen him cry. She'd seen him well up with tears, but she had never seen a drop drip down his face. No one really had.

It wasn't that he never cried. He remembered how it felt when he heard his mother trying to save him when the Dementors were near, and he cried for her. He cried for Sirius after he'd been murdered by his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. But no one had seen him do it. He was sure Hermione and Ron suspected him of it, but they never asked if he had. When Mrs. Weasley had been murdered, Harry used the Marauder's Map to find a secret location to hide in and wept for her in secrecy. He didn't even cry at her funeral. In fact, as he lay on the cold floor in the pitch black, he couldn't remember the last time anyone had truly seen him shed a tear, when he wasn't under the influence of some kind of drug. He knew crying wasn't a sign of weakness, he knew it wasn't against masculinity to cry, he just wouldn't, and perhaps couldn't, shed a tear with company.

Harry eventually fell asleep that night. He was only aware of it when he had a strange dream that didn't make sense to him right away. In his dream he sat cross-legged in his cell, as if meditating, and a strange clear box was falling off the ceiling and walls. In the next instant he was sitting in a strange living room and Audrey handed him a photo album.

"Can you see me?" she asked. Harry opened up the album and saw the picture of his parent's wedding day with Sirius as the best man.

"You're right in front of me," Harry said to Audrey.

She giggled and smiled at him. "I always will be."

Then when he thought it couldn't get stranger, Hermione ran into the room wearing a white nightgown with boxing gloves on her hands. She jogged around the room repeatedly, not even noticing that Harry was there.

Harry looked down at the photo album again. "We're the wind in your face, Harry," Sirius said from the photo. "Can't you feel us? Can't you feel us? Won't you feel us?"

Harry shut the book and threw it across the room, hitting Hermione in the head as she jogged past. She didn't seem distracted.

"Come back to me," Dana said from his right side as she tugged at his sleeve. "Come back to me. Don't leave me."

Harry shook his head at her then looked back at Audrey, who was now sitting on his lap, running her hands up and down his chest. Boxing gloves fell between them, and Hermione was massaging his shoulders. Frowning, Harry looked up at her, then she kissed him longingly---

All was black again. He wasn't sure if he was sleeping, or if he was awake and the lights hadn't come back on.

Then a small, purple light floated toward him from where the door used to be. He could feel his heart thump against his ribcage as the light came closer to him. It came to a stop in front of his face and danced before him, bobbing up and down. Harry turned his head away, but the light followed him and bobbed before his eyes, just in front of his nose, lighting his face with a soft purple hue.

Harry tried to swat it away, but it only moved then returned to his nose. When Harry felt his hand hit the floor, he was sure it wasn't a dream. This was strangely real. Harry put his arms underneath him and pushed himself off the floor. The small purple light followed his movement. Crouched on all fours, Harry watched the little ball of light.

It bobbled away from him and zoomed around his head, so fast it made Harry dizzy. Then it shot to one corner of the cell, setting a dim purple light on the walls, and zipped up and down in an oval like fashion. Yes, that's what it was doing. It was making a distinct oval shape, tall and wide enough for Harry to step into it. It sped up so fast that it didn't look like one little purple ball of light, but a beam of light shaped like a tall oval.

Suddenly the center of the oval burst with light so bright Harry had to shield his eyes. When he looked back his jaw dropped.

It was as if vertical purple water had filled the oval. The wavy substance reflected Harry's astounded image, yet didn't make a rippling sound as water would. Harry had never seen nor heard of anything like what he saw before him. Still watching whatever it was, Harry pinched his arm only to find that it really hurt. He approached the anomaly.

The rippling seemed to increase as he closed distance. Harry reached out his hand, held it before the thing hesitantly, then touched it. It didn't feel like anything at all, but the substance calmed as he touched it. When he pulled his hand back, it rippled wildly.

Heart hammering, Harry looked around his cell. The worst thing that could happen would be this thing eating him alive. The alternative was to live in his cell for one-hundred and fifty years and go insane. It wasn't a hard decision to make.

Taking a huge breath, Harry closed his eyes and walked inside the anomaly. At first he felt nothing, then it was as if his body were being pulled every which direction. Harry eyes shut tighter and he pulled his arms into his chest. But then it was over.

Harry fell face first on the ground, which was not smooth or even, but grainy and bumpy. His chest contracted and forced him to cough, which sent dust on his face. Harry opened his eyes to see a reddish brown floor, made of dirt and rocks, some of which was all over his hands, arms, and chest. Then he heard voices. Voices!

Slowly, Harry raised his head level with the ground. He saw three pairs of shiny black boots. He continued to raise his head. He viewed three pairs of knees, three pairs of thighs, three stomachs, and finally a familiar face. The middle person was shorter than her two companions, and thin. A woman. An Indian woman with a falcon perched on her shoulder. Harry frowned as he stared at her.

"Hello, young Harry," she said in an Indian accent with a hint of a smile. "Welcome to the International Wizard Bureau of Investigation."

Harry raised his eyes to the other two wizard's faces, but didn't focus on them. He was more fascinated by the dingy cave he was in now. Behind the three wizards who stood in front of him were a few legless tables with papers on top of them. Harry looked back to the Indian woman who had visited him once in St. Mungo's and scowled.

"Well, the IWBI was once impressive," she said dismissively with the wave of her hand. She nodded to the man on her right and he threw a blanket on top of Harry then helped him to his feet.

"What?" Harry asked as he looked around. Now that he was standing he noted that the cave was really quite small and cramped. But what was confusing him most was that he was in a cave and not Vincula. "How--?"

The woman smiled and walked toward him. "Sorry it took us so long," she said, adjusting his blanket so it covered him better. "It took a while to purchase you a house the Muggle way, not to mention skirting past the security in Vincula to give you a portal."

Harry squinted at her with his mouth halfway open.

"You're not in prison anymore, Harry," she said.

"You saw me a few months ago in St. Mungo's," Harry said as he pointed his finger at her.

She nodded shortly. "Small world, isn't it?" she asked. "I had an inkling you would need me at some point, and need me you did."

"Wh-Who are you?" he asked, as he tightened his grip on the blanket. It was drafty in here.

"Ashika Narayan," she said, thrusting out her hand toward his. "Director of the IWBI. I couldn't tell you before, you understand. No one knows that we still exist."

"Uh huh," he said absentmindedly as he shook her hand. She pulled her hand out of his then dismissed her two comrades, who walked down a passage he hadn't noticed before. Then suddenly questions started to pop up in his mind.

"Hang on," he said, scowling again, "why am I here?"

Ashika Narayan crossed her arms and took a few steps backwards. "The world is small, should your mission fail," she said, jogging his memory of her. "Let's just say that the moment I heard the guilty verdict, I realized that Leucosia was winning. Everything you said she said has come true, so I know she's real. But you can't be the hero if you're locked up, now can you?"

"You believe me?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she said shortly.

"But the jury--"

"Was full of mindless fools who know nothing of life's little complexities, especially those concerning the human mind. The prosecution wasn't banking on a guilty verdict. Auferre was a junior attorney who was being paid double to prosecute you. He's in financial trouble, so he felt compelled to take the money. As for that jury, well, mindless fools, Harry. Mindless fools."

Harry nodded absentmindedly again. "So this is the IWBI?" he asked. "I thought it was out of commission."

She gave him a funny sort of smile and started to walk toward a passage and expected him to walk beside her. "It was. Our original location was somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, close to the island of Oahu. Late 1981 it was infiltrated by Voldemort's Death Eaters and successfully self destructed, destroying all records. Not too long after that I decided to start it up again, and here we are. These caves are under the Sierra Nevada mountain range in the western United States. Welcome to the new world, Harry."

The dark passage opened up to a larger cave, though it was still small for a secret agency. There were about five or six wizards in this cave, all speaking different languages to someone unseen. On one side of the cave was a large map of the world.

"We maintain secrecy by having such a small number of employees. Since the destruction of our last building, I've been more careful with who I select to work here. Kim Philby used to be my second in Counterintelligence. Guy Burgess worked as a historian in the Intelligence sector. Now they're both part of the Black Order, which is what first peaked my interest. Neither of them is the most powerful of dark wizards, but they are clever." She escorted him down another dark passage, which led to a few separate small caves, which appeared to function as offices.

"So all of this," Harry said, waving his hand around, "is completely confidential?"

"Completely. There are some rumors that we've started up again, but no one knows for sure."

"Right," Harry said. "What exactly do you do?" he asked.

"We're the wizard equivalent of MI-6 or the US's CIA. At least that's what I want. We try to have our hands in everything that's going on, magic wise, in the world. Your case affects the 'magical race,' so it concerned me. As to what I do personally, I'm simply overseeing everything that's done here. And I pay everyone."

"Right," Harry said again. "And how am I here?" he asked, pointing his finger at his chest.

Ashika smiled again and led Harry into an office where a portly man with black and gray frizzy hair was seated at his desk. He saw Harry and beamed, then rolled out from his desk and waved at Harry.

"Hey princess," M. Burg said to him.

Mouth open again, Harry stared.

"This is Morris Burg. You probably recognize him. You'll find that I often have employees most everywhere. Morris is my man at Vincula. Haden is my man at Azkaban. I have a professor at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Drumstrang, the Salem Institute, and Ontario's Academy. One of the Healers at St. Mungo's works for me, as well as Healers all over the world. It's taken a while, and it's still taking time, but eventually I'll have all my old resources back. It's safe to say that I can see a lot that goes on in this small world of ours."

"So this guy," Harry said, pointing at Morris, "helped break me out?"

"He's the only one who knew exactly where your cell was. They often move around for security reasons, but he knew which one you were in. The portal was sent to you by someone else, but Morris was the main one on this."

Morris stood up and walked to Harry to shake his hand. "It's an honor to meet you," he said.

"Okay," Harry said, his hand limp.

"Spitting image," Burg said to himself as he went back to work. Harry would've liked to have inquired, but Ashika led him away. It seemed as if they were walking deeper down into the mountain, as it became quite dark. The passages were lined with torches to light their winding way.

"If we used too much magic to make this place look nice," she said as if reading his mind, "the American Ministry would be onto us."

"Oh," he said. He kept following her deeper down into the cave. "You said before that you'd met me, or something. But I can't remember you at all."

"I'm sure Starling would help you remember if you wanted," she said routinely as she walked into an empty cave with a door at one end. "Each memory is recorded, Harry, you only need to learn how to access them." She sighed a little. "The last time I saw you," she said turning to face him, "you stood not two feet from the ground and were trying to eat large crayons."

"You saw me when I was..."

"About fourteen months old, equipped with three words and a wobbly walk."

"You knew my--"

"Yes I did. Actually, Morris was saved by dear daddy quite a few years ago, before you were born. See how small our world is?" she asked with a smile. She walked toward the door at the other end of the cave and beckoned him toward her. "Obviously you can't stay here for however long it takes us to find and destroy Leucosia, so I've purchased a house for you in a small community in Northern California. It's a very cloistered community so no one should ask about you or even talk about you."

But Harry stopped walking toward her. Something suddenly hit him that hadn't really occurred to him before, and he wasn't sure why.

"No," he said slowly.

"No what?" she asked curtly.

Harry shook his head and looked around. "I'm not going to," he said darkly. He furrowed his brow as he thought and examined her aggressive face. He thought it best to elaborate. "I don't care what you say about them, I really don't. Auferre has financial problems, that's his problem. Mindless fools or not, the jury still convicted me. The judges passed a sentence on me lasting for 150 years. And I didn't do anything wrong. So I won't help them again," he said coolly. "They're all selfish, scared, and blind. I'm tired of being the victim, and it's happened to me more than once. I'm only out of that hellhole because you got me out. But my public, the people who used to praise me and stand in awe of me, put me in prison. I won't help them, not now and not again. They're on their own."

Ashika re-crossed her arms and nodded her head. "I don't blame you," she said. "I half expected you to say that. But you should take pity on your public. They were hoodwinked, Harry. You know the truth. It is your responsibility, in knowing the truth, to stop Leucosia. You're the only one with the power to do so, and she knows it. You were built for it, you were born for it, so you will do it. Having such knowledge and power makes you responsible, whether you like it or not. I have been around for a very long time and I have seen some horrendous sights. Murder and cruelty are part of the world and there is nothing you or anyone else can do to put an end to it. But there are some things worth fighting for. And you will fight."

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think I will," he said firmly, unaware that his eyebrows were pulled down into an angry scowl. "I quit. I thank you for freeing me, but I'm quitting the heroic business. It's about time I had a vacation from it. It's time for me to be selfish. My whole life has been hell and misery and I'm tired of it!"

"Cry me a river!" Ashika hissed, advancing on him.

Harry stepped back in shock but Ashika continued her advance.

"Poor pitiful you," she said acidly, her eyes like slits. "Well, I don't care that you were mistreated as a child. It wasn't my fault, it was Dumbledore and the Dursley's fault. If you still take issue with your horrid treatment, then you take it out on who was responsible for it. If you still have a problem that needs addressing after all these years, go address it with Dumbledore and the people who mistreated you, but don't come crying to me about it!

"As to your hardships with Voldemort, you were born with an innate power no wizard can match, so Voldemort rightly felt threatened. He knew you could kill him, so he tried killing you. You dealt with him in good time.

"Is it my fault or the public's fault that Sirius Black was murdered? Who's to blame for Molly Weasley's murder? Is it my fault that you were lonely and heartbroken during your young adult life? You are a fighter," she said strongly.

"You were meant to fight, and if you don't, then you'll be miserable. Each person was given something, Harry. Whether you're happy with it or not, you are a fighter. You're violent, strong, and in most circumstances brave. What you are is who you're meant to be. You have the power to stop evil in its tracks, and so you will. If you don't fulfill your purpose in life, that's between you and life, isn't it? You think Voldemort was the first and last wizard you would defeat? Grow up. Stop acting like a scared little boy and grow into a man. Bad things happen and will continue to happen. The way to deal with them is not to castigate the world because you suffered!" she yelled.

Harry took a few steps back and stared at her in awe. He watched her eyes teeter back and forth as she looked into his own eyes. "And what kind of hell did you live through?" he asked her.

Ashika broke eye contact and walked back to the door, grabbed the handle, twisted it, and walked inside. Harry followed.

The moment he was through the door, however, he was nearly tackled to the ground by a sobbing woman with short dark hair.

"Harry!" she sobbed into his ear, squeezing him so tight he was losing oxygen. Then he felt Dana hit him in the legs as she clutched on.

"Oxygen becoming an issue," Harry uttered.

Audrey pulled back a little, but didn't release him. Her entire face was red and puffy, her eyes were bloodshot and full of tears, yet she was beaming. "I thought--" she hyperventilated, "I--wouldn't--see you--again," she said, hugging him once more. Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around her.

"Same here," he said to her. He grinned and shut his eyes as he held her, that balloon of happiness welling up inside him again. Audrey calmed down quickly and started to breathe normally. Dana was now tugging on Harry's pants for attention, so he released his wife and scooped up Dana, who giggled with glee.

"She asked about you every day," Audrey said, wiping her face with the backs of her sleeves.

Harry kissed Dana's cheeks several times, causing her to giggle and squirm. "I missed you," he said to her, ruffling her hair with his hand.

"Thank you," Audrey said to Ashika, who was standing quietly in a corner. "Thank you so much for giving him back to us."

Harry turned to look at Ashika, but she was heading for the door. "What are secret agencies for?" she said snidely.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Harry asked her tentatively, now feeling guilty for what he'd said to her after all she'd done for him.

"You have a small two bedroom house waiting for you. You can get there by the floo network if you'll follow me." She turned back around and headed toward a fireplace then ignited it.

"Won't they be watching?" Harry asked.

"No," she said simply. "They think you're still in prison."

Harry nodded to himself. "Right," he said. "So what's the address?"

"2424 Coronado Street. It's already programmed for the correct town and state." She turned around with her arms crossed and stared into Harry's eyes as Audrey prepared Dana for the journey.

"Thank you," Harry said to her.

But she didn't respond to him. She narrowed her dark eyes at him, walked backwards, then made for a turn and walked out of the cave without a word. Harry kept staring at the exit she had taken, but was pulled around as Audrey hugged him again, giggling happily in his ear. "I missed you," she said, squeezing him tighter. "Oh how I missed you."

Harry smiled and sighed when he heard those words.

Their new home was better than fine. It was on a solitary hill side with few houses around it, with a view of a lake out the large back windows.

"Wow," Audrey said as she walked to the windows for a closer look. "It's beautiful," she said. Harry picked up Dana, who rested her head on his shoulders and yawned, then stood beside Audrey. "That woman can sure pick a nice location."

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

Audrey looked for a clock and found one on the stove. "Nine at night. We're eight hours behind here. We should put her to bed," she said nodding toward Dana. Audrey started down the hallway and found the smaller of the two bedrooms and walked inside. The bed was small enough for Dana, who when placed in it and covered with blankets, fell asleep almost immediately.

"She's had a long day," Audrey whispered as she shut Dana's door. "So have I."

Harry walked across the hall into their bedroom and sat on the bed. "What's happened since I left?" he asked her.

"Well," Audrey said as she sat beside him, "not too much. A week after the trial, Ashika Narayan came to me and told me they were working on a way to free you. It kept me from crying myself to sleep every night and allowed me to live properly for Dana. But other than that, Harry, not much has happened. The Black Order hasn't made any attacks and The Daily Prophet stopped talking about you. Everything calmed down."

Harry nodded and fell backwards on the bed, which felt soft and cool to his skin. He shut his eyes and sighed again. Audrey lay beside him and rested her head on his chest.

"I'm not tired," Harry said, snapping his eyes open.

He could feel Audrey smiling. "No?" she asked as she caressed his chest with her right hand.

"No," he said. "I haven't been tired in a while, actually."

"Mmm," she mumbled. She propped herself up a little and looked into his eyes. "You know you have a slight beard going on, don't you?" she asked.

Harry put his hand to his face and felt his chin. "Actually I hadn't noticed," he said.

Audrey smiled again. "I like it." She swung her leg to his other side to straddle him and intertwined her fingers with his. "I like it a lot," she whispered, sliding both their hands across the bed so she could lower herself to kiss him.

"That works out," he said. "I'm not going to do anything about it tonight." He couldn't help but give a sly smile as she continued to kiss him. But she suddenly pulled away from him and frowned.

"Where's your ring?" she asked.

"They took everything on me and stuffed it away in some tiny envelope," Harry said quickly. "It wasn't my choice."

"Can you get it back?"

"That would look a little suspicious if my stuff wasn't there, but I suppose I could ask," he said, hoping that made her happy.

She nodded. "Okay," she said. But she didn't seem eased. "Harry?" she said.

"What?" he asked. He hoped she wouldn't want to talk long.

"Tell me you love me," she said.

Harry wasn't sure why she wanted him to say that. It seemed a little insecure of her to demand that of him, but if she wanted to hear it...

"I love you," he said, looking into her eyes.

She smiled deviously then pulled his shirt over his head, threw it somewhere, then picked his glasses off his face.

Harry gave a throaty yet subtle laugh, then wrapped his arms around her back and pulled himself up to kiss her lips. She giggled a bit and ran her fingers through his hair... (And from previous experience, you know I leave private matters, well, private.)

**

The following morning was treated more like the first day of a honeymoon on a tropical island instead of a limited existence clothed in secrecy. Dana had found the television and was watching cartoons and a show with puppets known as "Sesame Street," while her parents spent the morning with each other. Dana didn't mind watching Big Bird or Elmo, and Harry silently thanked Ashika for providing a form of entertainment for the youngster so he could have some 'alone' time with Audrey. But all good things had to come to an end, and by ten that morning Sesame Street was over and annoying infomercials raided the television. With blanket in hand, Dana walked down to her parents bedroom and pushed the door open.

"Mummy!" she called out, shuffling inside. There was a clambering in the bathroom then moments later Audrey came spilling out with a towel around her, her hair dripping water on the carpet.

"What is it, sweetie?" she asked, wiping her face with the edge of her gray towel.

"I'm hungwry," Dana answered, pulling her shirt up to point at her stomach.

"Okay. I'll come out to make breakfast pretty soon. Why don't you go watch the tele," Audrey said, pushing Dana out of the room.

Dana walked back down the hall in a very dramatic fashion, but Audrey didn't watch her long. She dried herself quickly then threw on some clothes in case Dana came back in.

"I'm making breakfast," she said, hammering her fist on the bathroom door.

There was no immediate answer, but then the door opened and Harry pulled Audrey inside, attacking her neck with his lips. At first she laughed, but then she pulled back and lightly punched his shoulder.

"Now I'm wet," she said, examining her shirt. She looked back at his smiling face and burst out laughing. For some reason Harry looked like a young boy just then. He wasn't wearing his glasses, his face with smooth again, his hair was wet and drooped down into his eyes, and the towel hung about his waist in a juvenile fashion. But most of all it was that playful look that danced about his eyes and smile as he watched her.

She pulled him to her and kissed him for possibly the hundredth time that morning, laughing happily when she felt him smiling.

"Get dressed," she told him as she walked backwards out of the bathroom, enabling her to gaze at him for as long as possible.

The remainder of the day was spent happily, as if Harry had never been convicted for such sinister crimes. Harry wrestled on the floor with Dana, who was elated that Harry had returned from his trip. The two played like youngsters for hours at a time until Dana got very cranky and was put down for a nap by Audrey.

It wasn't until later that evening that the family was given a visit by the Director of the IWBI, Ashika Narayan. She entered the home as if she'd lived there and made herself comfortable on a chair so she could talk with Harry.

"So," she began stiffly, surveying Harry with her dark eyes, "how are you?" she forced out.

Harry sat down opposite her and nodded. "Fine," he replied.

"Tell me more about Leucosia," she demanded, withdrawing a pen and parchment from her robes.

Harry rolled his eyes and bit his lip as he watched her.

"Problem?" Ashika asked as she stared back at him.

"I thought you watched my sessions with Doctor Simon," Harry said.

"I did," she said flatly, her pen poised and ready to write.

"I told him everything about her."

"Yes, but wouldn't you agree that a lot of time has passed since March?" she asked.

Harry swallowed and rolled his eyes again. "Yeah," Harry answered reluctantly.

"Then we're on the same page," Ashika said. "The difference between Simon and me is that Simon thought you were a raving lunatic while I believe you. I don't need to know about Leucosia's first encounter with you, only what has been happening more recently. I need to develop a profile on her."

Harry admitted to himself that she was right, though he didn't dare tell her. She had freed him from prison, reunited him with his family, and believed every word he said. Why shouldn't he comply with her wishes?

"Well I've seen her twice since I broke out of St. Mungo's," he said. "Once in my flat on May fourth, then again while I was in Vincula on June fifth. I haven't seen her since."

Ashika wrote down the two dates then pressed him to continue.

"I think it would be easier if you asked me questions," Harry added.

"All right," she remarked. She pulled out a stack of papers and flipped through them quickly. "These are the records I have so far on you and her. I'm interested in her riddles, to be quite frank." She looked up at him and raised both her eyebrows as if encouraging him to speak.

But Harry didn't really know what to tell her. "Riddles?" he asked.

"Yes," Ashika said. "It seems as if she's giving you clues to what she'll do next. What's interesting is your inability or lack of interest in actually solving them. She told you that you'd be found guilty of something, which you were. She told you she could undermine public opinion, which she did, and would take control of you, which she's done."

"She hasn't done that," Harry insisted, his voice level rising.

"Not yet," Ashika said. "She's offered you a chance to rule, Harry. Tell me, honestly, that you're not interested."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but found that he couldn't. He had to admit that the prospect, especially when considering recent events, wasn't so horrible. "That woman is evil," he said finally.

"But you, like many others, are tempted by supreme power?" she asked. "It's quite common to want power, Harry."

"I know that, but she nearly killed me to get my attention, she put me in prison, and she convinced people that I'm mentally unstable and insane!" he yelled. He looked down the hall to see if Audrey would come and scold him for yelling in the house while Dana was supposedly sleeping, but luckily she didn't.

"She did it to demonstrate her power," Ashika said calmly. "She did all of it without the use of magic. Imagine what she can do with magic. Let's hope we don't see that day. Getting back to the main topic of conversation, has she given you any more riddles to solve, that for some reason you don't investigate?" she asked.

Harry was growing frustrated with her already. "It's not that I don't try to solve them," he explained, screwing his eyes shut as he spoke. "I just didn't realize that's what she was doing."

"How pathetic. Now tell me about the riddles," she commanded him.

Harry sighed and sat back in his chair as he thought. "All right," he said. "She mentioned something about... something in 'one quarter of seven three zero,' whatever that means."

Ashika's posture changed--she sat up slowly and contorted her face.

"What?" Harry asked her.

"When did she say it?" Ashika asked, immediately jotting down the note.

"Back in May. Why?"

"And what had the two of you been discussing?" she fired.

"She said she might be a delusion of mine, because I found out she's not corporeal, then I said she couldn't fool me and I knew she was real. Why are you so excited?"

"Don't you get it?" she asked. "One quarter of seven hundred and thirty days is six months. She'll reveal herself in six months from that day."

Harry fell back into his chair and stared at her. "Is that good?" he asked.

Ashika frowned. "I suppose it depends on how it's done. But it sounds as if you can go back to your normal life after that point." Then she paused. "But that doesn't seem to make sense."

Harry stood up suddenly and paced around his chair. "It does," he said in a shaky voice. "If I don't take her offer by then, she'll destroy my family."

But when Harry turned to face Ashika to see her reaction, he was surprised to see that she was shaking her head at him.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"It's not her style," she replied. "Killing as a punishment isn't her way. It's too common. She seems to be much more sophisticated than that. There are a number of things you need to be asking yourself, Harry. Why is she waiting so long to reveal herself or make you the second offer? Where is the Black Order? What have they been doing all this time? And most of all, what is her motivation behind all of this?"

"She's patient," Harry answered. "The Black Order's probably staying in Ithaca so no one sees them. And her motivation is simple. She wants my power. She knows she can't beat me. She knows I can destroy her."

This time Ashika smirked. "Mmm," she said. "Somehow I don't think you're right. If she's not corporeal, then how do you kill her? How can you murder someone if they don't have flesh? No, Harry, I don't think that's it. There are still mysteries about her that you haven't discovered yet. And so far she has beaten you."

Harry shook his head in anger. "Every time I've seen her it's been on her own terms. She decides when she wants to see me. She's the one calling all the shots. I can't go and see her whenever I want to!"

Ashika frowned and slid back into the chair. "Settle down," she told him calmly.

Harry shook his head and began pacing around the room. "It doesn't matter anyway," he said halfheartedly. "I told you my position on all this. I quit."

"You're pathetic," Ashika said. "You really are. Someone or something worthy is beating you at your own game and you want to quit? Poor pitiful Potter. 'They put me in prison.' 'They were fooled by my enemy.' 'They should all be punished for doubting me.' When are you going to grow up and act like a mature adult?" she asked. "I don't care that you want to quit. Really it's not my business. If you want to stay here in secrecy, never see your daughter's dance recitals, stay cloistered in this house like a recluse, never speak to your friends, and live like a hermit for the rest of your life, then that's your business." She folded her hands in front of her then stared at Harry. "I can leave and never come back, if you'd like. I'll worry about Leucosia, and you can stay here forever."

"That reverse psychology won't work on me," Harry said firmly.

"Then you'll help me and stop crying like a five year old that just found out life isn't fair?" she asked.

Harry turned his head toward the hallway as Audrey stepped silently into the living room. She yawned and walked over toward Harry, clasping her hand on his forearm.

"What is it?" Harry asked her.

"The little one wants you to read her a story," she said.

Harry looked backed to Narayan, who was obviously bored, tapping her pen on her paper. "I'll wait here," she said dully.

Harry walked down the hall without a word. Audrey made her way to the kitchen and began working on something. Ashika stood and casually meandered over to see her.

"It's a lovely house," Audrey said to her.

"I suppose," Ashika said, watching Audrey's movements.

"I want to thank you again for giving him back to us," she continued, flashing Ashika a toothy grin. "I couldn't imagine life without him."

"Oh yes," she replied sarcastically. "He's a fine young man."

Audrey set down a pan but stared into Ashika's eyes. "What's the matter? Is he giving you a hard time?"

Ashika pulled out a bar stool and sat at the counter, examining the kitchen and Audrey once more. "He's willful, stubborn, and acts like an arrogant boar in desperate need of common manners. But I suppose it comes with the territory."

Audrey didn't defend nor refute the statement. She smiled at Ashika and walked over to her. "I love him," she said simply.

"You'd have to in order to put up with him for more than five minutes," Ashika responded.

"He can be hard to live with," Audrey went on, continuing with her work, "most of the time he's hard to live with, actually. Sometimes, when he'd come home from being in his other life, he'd treat me like a stranger. It would take a few days before he'd even touch me. Harry's always had to approach human affairs slowly. He's still not sure how to respond or act in certain circumstances. It frustrates him. No one else, in his point of view, has problems like that; not knowing what to do, that is. Gosh," she said, crossing her arms and looking up at her ceiling in thought, "for a long time he wouldn't go near Dana. He was afraid he'd hurt her in some way. I know he's still afraid that he will hurt her by accident. He doesn't say, and he tries to cover it, but he doesn't feel comfortable around her unless I'm somewhere close. I suppose it's not so uncommon with some men. But I'd never seen someone so fearful and afraid of a common and simple lifestyle."

"I'm sure he doesn't want to be," Ashika said, feeling that Audrey wanted a response from her.

"No," Audrey said, "I know he doesn't." She nodded and smiled to herself. "He's gotten better over the years. But a year ago he wouldn't consider reading Dana a story without me in the same room. It's like he's afraid that he'll break her, as if she's glass. The look on his face when he first came over to see me, after we'd just met, and saw that I had a young baby was priceless. He was terrified, simply terrified to see her. At first I thought 'well that's it. He'll book out of here like I have the plague. What young man just starting out his adult life would want to get involved with a widow and an infant?' But something made him stay, and I still wonder why."

Ashika had a good theory on the reason to that question, and she was about to answer but stopped herself. Maybe it was better that Audrey wonder. Telling her may change the way she acted around Harry on a subconscious level.

"Have you ever been in love?" Audrey asked her suddenly.

Ashika whipped her head up in shock and frowned. "No," she said instantly.

Audrey gave her a questioning look. "No? That's a pity. It would be horrible to go through life without it."

"That's the majority opinion," Ashika said firmly. "How long will he take to read to her? I might come back when he's finished."

Audrey shrugged her shoulders. "Dana has a pretty good control of him. She might make him read her another story. Harry doesn't like to say no to her."

Ashika slid off the stool and walked down the hall, abandoning Audrey and her "love talk" in search of her interest. She could hear, before even inching the door open, Harry's low voice, reading from a book. When she did manage to inch the door open, she could see Harry sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him. Dana was on her small bed, looking over his shoulders to see the pictures, presumably.

Ashika stood and watched for a minute or so. She swallowed hard as she tore herself from the sight and made her way into the living room, where she Disapparated.

**

Hermione and Ron had been informed, separately, that Harry was no longer in prison but in a small community in Northern California. Narayan had seen them and told them the news, saying that if they wished, she could arrange a meeting between the three of them. Surprisingly, Ron and Hermione were hesitant about the offer.

When the two discussed this strange feeling, Hermione came up with a possible hypothesis. She explained to Ron that perhaps they, Hermione and Ron, were growing away from Harry. He was so immersed in his secret life that he didn't seem very concerned with their own lives. At first Hermione thought she sounded selfish, but then realized that she wasn't. Caring about the goings on in a friend's life is essential. But Harry didn't seem to care. Ron agreed.

Harry hadn't asked about Vanessa or how she and Ron managed to get together. He didn't ask about Vanessa at all. Harry didn't know or inquire about Luke, Hermione's now ex-boyfriend, or how their relationship was. Sure, he'd asked when he was stuck in Hermione's house, but he never brought it up again. He didn't ask about their jobs, their family, their hobbies, new hairstyles, nails, broomsticks, or anything. Harry just didn't seem to care.

On top of that, he didn't even share his own life with them. They only found out about Audrey and Dana because they cornered him. Harry never mentioned that he could read minds and had precognitive thoughts. He never discussed his sessions with Clarice Starling. He never talked of the Black Order, which he claimed to work on.

Hermione and Ron sat and wondered. What did they talk about?

"He was never around," Ron said finally. "You're right. He was always doing his own thing."

"I give him a pass for his recent affairs, but even before this mess arose he was alienating himself from us. Besides that, he could be so harsh to the two of us," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ron said sadly, playing with a piece of pie that sat before him. "I still miss talking to him, though."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "So do I."

"What did you think of his wife?" Ron asked.

Hermione scowled without knowing it then fidgeted in her chair. "She seemed fine enough."

Ron watched her closely then smiled to himself. "She's gorgeous, don't you think?"

Hermione fiddled with her napkin and avoided his eyes. "She's not unfortunate looking."

"Nice too," Ron said. "She sure loves Harry."

"Yeah," Hermione said. "She sure loves Harry. She won him over with her killer body and charm, no doubt. Little miss perfect stole his heart."

Ron bit his lip. "So you don't like her much?" he asked.

"I hate her bloody guts if you must pressure me into a confession. Her and her supermodel body and her shampoo commercial hair and that soft innocent voice are enough to make me sick. How could Harry pick someone so uncomplicated and ordinary for a partner in life? What's she got that I don't have Ron? Why does he love her so damn much and not me? Why am I crying?" she asked, motioning to her eyes. "Why am I losing my logical sense over all this?" she continued, her voice cracking with her sobs. "Listen to me! I sound like an obsessed teenager who's been neglected for a dance formal. What happened to logical independent me? Listen to how emotionally silly I sound, Ron!"

Ron leaned over the table and took her hands. "It's okay, Hermione," he said soothingly.

"No it's not!" she cried. "I need to be sensible about this. I'm an intelligent, rational woman whose happiness will not revolve around what a man does! I decide when I'm sad and when I'm happy. I'm in control of me," she said. She wiped tears from her eyes and stiffened her upper lip. "I am in total control." A few more tears trickled from her eyes, but she swiped them away before they could roll down her flushed cheeks.

Ron tightened his grip on her hand and smiled at her. "It's all right," he said to her.

Hermione nodded her head and focused on her tea that steamed before her. "I'm in control," she told herself.

"Yes," Ron said lightly, patting her hand. "You have total control over your own emotions. You've always proved that to us. Maybe you should tell Harry how you feel--"

"No!" Hermione said, violently shaking her head. "That would be selfish, and what would it accomplish? He's married to Audrey. He can't leave her or his daughter for me just because I love him. That's senseless, and I wouldn't allow it, nor would I encourage it. I want him to be happy. I want him to be happy and he's happy with them. They're perfect for Harry. Audrey is simply per--"

But she ceased as her mouth hung open, and a strange and mystical expression washed over her face. Not only did she stop crying, it seemed as if for a good minute she even stopped breathing.

"Hermione?" Ron asked tentatively.

She blinked rather rapidly then looked back at him, her mouth open in wonder.

"What is it?" he asked her, hoping she'd give him some answers. "What are you thinking?"

And as she locked eyes with him, a subtle smile inched upon her gaping mouth. But it wasn't a smile of happiness or accomplishment. It was a smile Ron had seen only when Hermione had worked out a complicated puzzle.

"Hermione the suspense is killing me, really it is. What're you thinking?"

"I'm--" she started, then touched her temple with her finger. "It has to be," she said to herself. "There's no other logical way, Ron. Unless Harry is completely off the charts insane, then there's no other explanation for it. It's crafty. It's very crafty. If I don't do something Leucosia will get her way."

"Hermione," Ron said again, "you have to tell me what you're thinking. I'm not like Harry, I can't read minds!"

Hermione crossed her arms and sat back in her chair, pondering whatever was working through her busy mind. "Leucosia must be more powerful than she lets on. But how did she do it? How did she?"

Ron slammed his hands on the table, shaking even the foundation of the small house, and scowled at Hermione.

But Hermione didn't seem affected. Instead of rounding on him for his behavior, she stood up and Disapparated so quickly she left Ron in shock.

**

It was a brilliantly sunny July day. The sky was a perfect blue and the clouds appeared happy and puffy in its sea of sky. Vanessa mounted her gray steed and started out with an easy trot, posting along the fence line. She smiled to herself as she squeezed her heels into her horse's side, and he eased into a canter.

"Vanessa!" someone bellowed from up the hill. "Hey, Vanessa!" they yelled again.

Mumbling swear words under her breath, Vanessa turned to look and saw Ron, flailing his arms in the air like the Nixon wave in order to get her attention.

"What?" she hollered back. She turned her horse and cantered to Ron then made an abrupt stop just before running him over. "What is it?" she asked.

Ron's eyes widened as the horse stretched out his nose toward him.

"Any time you can tell me. I have all day," she insisted.

"Can you get down from it?" Ron said, backing away from the animal.

"Porthos won't hurt you. He doesn't bite. Would you just tell me what the matter is?" She pulled back her reigns a little and Porthos backed away from Ron. He chomped at his bit and started to toss his head around in boredom.

"I think Hermione's on to something about this Leucosia deal and all. She got her mystified 'I've solved it' face and now she's gone."

Vanessa smiled. "That's great news!"

"Yeah," Ron said slowly, dragging out his flat a.

"Why isn't that good?" she asked, now frowning.

"I'm not sure her intentions are honorable. I think we should go find her and talk with her."

"Why the both of us?" she asked. "You know her a lot better than I do. And I can't see how she'd have bad intentions. She wants to help Harry out, right? Whatever gets him out of Vincula should be good."

Ron hadn't told Vanessa that Harry was no longer in prison. The story was too complicated to retell and Vanessa wasn't part of the trio of friends.

"You're better with knowing all that emotional stuff," he answered, shrugging his shoulders and blushing slightly.

Vanessa drew up one corner of her mouth. "It's because I'm a she and you're a he. Do you know where she is?"

"Knowing Hermione, my bet's on the library. Please come with me. I'd feel better if there was some kind of unified front. I don't know what she's up to but she had a glint in her eye."

Vanessa nodded, which told Ron she agreed, then headed back down the hill to continue her ride.

"Shouldn't we go now?" Ron asked.

"Nah," Vanessa said as she went into the trot. "Just let Hermione develop her plan before we intervene. Give her the benefit of the doubt."

Ron nodded to himself then took in a deep breath. He walked toward her house and nearly stepped inside when he heard a terrifying whinny from a horse behind him. He jumped so high from fright he hit his head on the house.

An hour later Vanessa was done with her ride. Ron watched from the secure house as she removed the saddle and bridle then sprayed the animal off with water and released him into a pasture with her two other geldings. Then she walked inside and grabbed Ron's cheeks.

"Why do you like those animals so much?" he asked.

She grinned then planted a big kiss on his lips. "Why are you so terrified of them?" she asked. She flattened her hands on his face and started to contort it with her fingers, laughing.

He tried smiling at her, but she was pulling down on his cheeks. "We should go," he said.

"Let me change into a better person," she said. "I smell like horse."

"And now it's all over my face, thanks," he said.

She grinned again then kissed both his cheeks and once on the lips.

It seemed as if each step they took echoed in that library. Ron always got the chills when he'd go in there. "It's too quiet in here," he whispered to her. "It gives me the heebie jeebies."

Vanessa took his hand and squeezed it. "I'll protect you," she said. "I know these big books can be frightening. They might jump out at you and go BOO!" she said.

"Shhh!" Ron said to her, putting his finger to his lips. "Have some respect will ya?"

"Ron," Hermione said abruptly, coming around a corner at him with a few newspapers in her hands. "I think I've figured it out."

"Hello Hermione," Vanessa said with a straight face. "Oh thanks, I'm fine. How are you?"

Hermione turned to her and acknowledged her presence, then started for a table where she sat down and spread her papers. Ron broke his hand from Vanessa's and sat down at the table. Hermione arranged the issues of The Daily Prophet in chronological order, then stacked a few other papers and set them before her.

Vanessa furrowed her brow and sat beside Ron, now strangely curious with what Hermione had come up with.

"What's all this?" Ron asked Hermione.

She took a few deep breaths then shut her eyes. "Remember a few months ago when we asked Jennifer Williams about Audrey? She said she remembered her name because she saw Audrey in the newspapers." She opened her eyes and looked at their faces.

Ron shrugged dismissively but Vanessa urged her to continue.

"I pulled these old papers from Records and guess what? Audrey Wyatt went missing for a week in July of 2001, just weeks before she met Harry."

"Missing?" Ron said, now interested in what Hermione had to say. "But she's here now."

"Exactly," Hermione said. She twisted around one paper to show him. "It says 'Audrey Wyatt, widow of the late Aiden Wyatt and mother of one, was reported missing this morning by an acquaintance. Her residence was completely void of any kind of evidence of intrusion. A few of Wyatt's belongings were missing, most notably her infant daughter and a series of supplies. According to friends, Audrey has been grieving continually over the death of her husband. The two reportedly had a very stable and happy marriage. If anyone has seen or heard from Mrs. Wyatt, please contact the Ministry of Magic.' Then a week later the papers had this to say: 'Once thought missing and possibly a victim of foul play, Audrey Wyatt and her daughter returned to their home in London as if they had been gone for a trip. When interviewed Mrs. Wyatt explained that she needed some time away from her home and from her routine life to contemplate her and her daughter's future. She's sorry she caused such alarm; she just had to leave immediately and didn't notify anyone of the sudden departure. It appears as if the trip has done Mrs. Wyatt good. She says she had time to reflect and feels much more prepared for life.' "

Hermione set the paper down then opened a manila envelope and withdrew some papers.

"So what's the big deal?" Ron asked.

"Come on, Ron. Audrey just suddenly disappears for a week, never telling anyone where she actually was, then a month or so later she starts dating Harry? Why would a mother and widow be so interested in a 21 year old freshly initiated Auror? Remember, she supposedly took this trip to grieve over her dead husband. What, all of a sudden she just got over him and moved onto Harry? There's more. I pulled out Audrey's records. Audrey's half wizard. Her father was a Muggle, a civil engineer to be precise. Her mother was a witch who died from a massive heart attack when Audrey was very young. Her father was killed by a fallen power line seven years later. Audrey was then placed with her father's brother and wife and was raised by them until she went off to Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, Audrey was sorted into Ravenclaw house, was a member of the Transfiguration club, tried out for Quidditch but didn't make it, and graduated fifth overall in her class. Please tell me I'm not the only one seeing some eerie similarities here."

Vanessa and Ron exchanged a funny expression. "They have a lot in common," Ron said to Hermione in a no-big-deal sort of way. "Maybe that's why they get along so well."

Hermione shook her head and sighed in frustration. "Come on, Ron. They're both orphans, half-bloods, only children by default, and raised by their aunt and uncle. I'd say that's an awful lot to have in common. Then Audrey just coincidentally falls for Harry when he's 21? You remember him back then, don't you? He was going through women like they were shoes! First Piper then ended with Jennifer with a dozen or so in between? Why the sudden change in trend? And he got so serious with her that he kept her secret from us. It's all very strange."

Ron looked at Vanessa again, who had a pained and pitying expression on her face as she looked at Hermione.

"Hermione," Vanessa said solemnly, "I think he fell in love with her. He sees something special in her and he loves her. She gave Harry a family."

"Exactly. She gave him everything he's ever wanted. It's suspicious!" she said.

"No," Vanessa said. "He just got lucky. I think you need to accept that he's married to her and has a little girl. At least he was. He probably won't see them again, will he?"

Now Hermione was pulling at her hair in frustration. "Remember when Clarice said that the only way anyone could get into Harry's head was if he let them in? How can Leucosia see in his mind?"

"You're suggesting that Audrey's Leucosia? Leucosia is Audrey?" Ron asked disbelievingly. "No way, Hermione. Harry would know if he married an evil being. He's not stupid."

"He fell in love with her. Love is blind!" she said, banging her fists on the table. "Can't you see how perfectly planned it is? When Harry finds out that he married Leucosia he'll want to stay with her."

Vanessa and Ron exchanged yet another pitying look.

"Fine!" she yelled, gathering up her evidence. "Don't believe me. I'm right about this. I know I am. She's going to take him away because he loves her. She's raped him and used him and betrayed him and I'll expose her."

"He'd hate you if you accused Audrey of all that," Ron said to her, rising from his chair to stop her from running off.

"Hermione, be sensible about this," Vanessa urged her. "I really think you need to think this through before you run with the idea. You're accusing Harry's wife of horrendous acts. Promise me you'll think it through before reacting."

"It's the only way it works out. Can't you see that?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ron said. "Leucosia has a physical form, Hermione, as does Audrey. They're two separate beings. You seem to be forgetting that parallel dimension element in all this. The right man will come along for you, Hermione, just not Harry."

Hermione stepped back angrily and scowled viciously at them both. "This isn't about what I want! This is about doing what's right, and I know the truth! I know it, I know it! It's the only way it works out and I will prove it to you!"

"And what would it do to Harry?" Vanessa interjected. "What would this accusation do to him and you? Your friendship would be terminated. He'd see right through you."

"I've always had his best interests in mind," she said firmly. "But you wouldn't understand that." And with that last jab, she Disapparated and was gone once more.

**

Enough time had passed that Harry, Audrey, and Dana had accustomed to the change in time. But they still hadn't set a routine in life, though one was forming. Each morning during breakfast they would be interrupted, without apology, by Ashika Narayan, who would proceed to nag Harry about Leucosia.

Harry would tell her he'd shared all the information he had about her then ask Ashika to leave. She would complain about his passivity in the matter. In response Harry would wave his hands around the secret house in the United States where no one knew he lived.

"So what if they found you guilty," she would say casually. Harry had grown quite tired of her reasoning and would ask her to leave before he got real angry. She would groan loudly about it but eventually did as he asked. Then the Potters would resume their day.

But another routine started to emerge, one commonly called "cabin fever." Audrey was free to go wherever she wanted, and for that matter so was Harry. He was living in an entirely Muggle community far from Great Britain and was, strangely, not recognized. He had taken trips with his family to the lake nearby, gone for walks, and even driven into towns for the day. But something was bothering him, and he didn't really know what it was. After all, family life was what he always wanted.

He found himself being short tempered with Audrey or with anything in general. One night CNN reported on something that he apparently found disturbing in some way, and he began swearing at the television. He had to go outside and run up and down hills to empty himself of his frustration so he didn't speak foul words in front of Dana.

One Saturday morning, when he didn't feel so wound tight, Harry played with Dana in the living room. She had deemed him a "howrsy," so he had to pretend accordingly. Having never played "howrsy" in his life, he was a bit unsure of how to go about it. Dana taught him very quickly and in no time he was crawling on the floor with Dana on his back telling him to go faster. He would've felt terribly silly had she not laughed and enjoyed it so much.

But that too was interrupted as the fireplace burst with green flames and Hermione came through looking cautious. At first Harry just stared at her, with Dana on his back and now lightly kicking him to continue. Then slowly he got to his feet, allowing Dana to get to hers, and approached Hermione.

"Hello, Harry," she said, somewhat timidly.

Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded to her. "Hello," he replied.

"Look," she started uncertainly, "I want to begin by apologizing for not accepting your apology when we had our last argument. I realize now why you didn't tell me the truth about that potion, and I'm sorry I reacted like I did."

Harry let out a quiet breath and made his lips twitch. "That's all right," he said. "I should've told you the entire truth instead of parts of it. And I shouldn't have said anything that I said to you that day. I'm sick with myself with what I said to you, and I'm very sorry."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Okay. And I should tell you something else. I knew you were lying to me about the potion. I wanted to find out what it really did, so I contacted a local potions master, and he told me some of its uses. I think my fireplace was being watched. I'm sorry."

Harry screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip. Dana clung to his leg in a playful motion, which probably kept him in control. He opened his eyes again and noticed Hermione's moist eyes and red cheeks. He sighed then took a few cleansing breaths.

"All right, all right. I guess they could've found out about it by another means anyway. Is the air between us clear again, at least until one of us does something to the other again?"

Hermione watched Dana tugging on Harry's jeans while smiling at her, then Hermione looked up at Harry and gave him a sad smile. "I think so."

"Good," he said. "So how are you?"

"I'm," she said, then wondered whether or not he was reading her mind. She avoided his eyes to look back at Dana then said, "fine. But I really wanted to know how you were doing."

"Oh, you know," Harry said casually. "I'm typical for my circumstance I suppose. I was found guilty of murder, Hermione, then sent to prison. How do you think I'm doing?"

"But you have Audrey and Dana with you," she said, now encouraging him with a smile.

"Yeah," he admitted, "but that doesn't really help the whole 'I was found guilty' issue, now does it? I'd like to think I have more needs than just family. I can't just have one and not the other."

"That makes sense," she said to him.

"How's Luke?" he asked her joyfully.

"I broke up with him," she said.

"Oh," he said, but not sadly. "Should I feel sorry for you?" he asked clumsily with a hint of a smirk.

Hermione's eyes moistened again as she watched his boyish smile, then shook her head. "No," she replied with a hard smile, "you shouldn't. He wasn't for me." Then she stuffed her hands into her pockets and sniffed, shutting her eyes and telling herself to keep from crying.

"Your guy's out there for you," he said quietly, waiting for her to raise his head and eyelids to him. "He just hasn't come along yet."

She sniffed again, this time more loudly, and looked up at him with wet eyes. She couldn't restrain herself any more. She walked to him and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head just below his shoulder. She couldn't help but cry now, especially after he held her lightly, patting her back a bit.

"He'll come," she heard him say again. She shook slightly as she cried and tightened her grip on him as if scared he'd go away again. She buried her face into his chest and wet his shirt with her tears. Hermione couldn't help but breath in his scent: cinnamon and spring fresh laundry detergent.

Harry took her forearms and pulled them from him, then pushed Hermione back a little. She frowned and looked up at him, but he was looking behind her.

Hermione turned around and saw Audrey in the hallway. She was staring straight into Hermione's eyes now, her arms crossed, and weight shifted to one side. She wasn't biting her lip, frowning, or trying to intimidate her--she just stared coldly into Hermione's eyes.

For a moment no one spoke to each other, probably because none of them knew what to say. Finally Dana (children are always so good at this) broke the silence by walking over to her mother and conversing with her about simple matters.

Audrey kept her eyes locked with Hermione's for a few more seconds then bent down to address her daughter. Hermione didn't chance looking at Harry, nor did he try to get her attention. He moved out of the room completely and walked into the kitchen, leaving Hermione alone with Audrey.

Dana ran down the hall to get something. Audrey stood up again and slowly advanced on Hermione, never swaying her eyes from her.

"It was just a hug," Hermione said firmly, not backing down to her. "Don't look at me like that because of it."

"We need to talk," Audrey spoke softly to her, showing no sign of contempt with Hermione.

"Yes," Hermione said, "we certainly do."

Audrey nodded then made her way into the kitchen where Harry was. Hermione didn't move one centimeter but heard what Audrey was saying to Harry.

"Dana's putting on a swimsuit. Could you take her to the lake for a bit while I speak with Hermione?"

"There's nothing wrong with what she did, Audrey," Harry said firmly.

"Somehow I don't think you're right. If there wasn't anything wrong with it, why did you push her away when I came into the room? And if I were to embrace a friend like she was with you, I think you might be a little upset as well, don't you think?"

"She's a close friend," Harry said back.

"She's not your wife," Audrey replied.

"Really?" Harry asked flippantly. "Wow! I'm so glad you told me. I was starting to forget, actually. Thanks for the reminder."

Then Audrey whispered so quietly Hermione couldn't hear.

"She loves you, Harry," she whispered to him. "And it's not the friend kind of love. I can see when another woman is moving in."

"I would never be unfaithful to you," Harry hissed back.

"I know that. Does that mean I can't be upset with a woman who's attempting infidelity? I'm not going to be harsh with her; I just want to talk with her, woman to woman. Please just take Dana to the lake and have a good time. Is that so much to ask?"

"She's my friend, Audrey," Harry said.

"Then you tell her not to touch you like that again."

"I don't see what was wrong with it."

"You don't?" she asked coolly. "You wouldn't mind if I touched, say, Remus Lupin that way?"

Harry scowled at her but didn't retort.

"That's what I thought. Just take Dana and come back. We won't be long."

Hermione came around the corner and flicked her eyes back and forth between them. "It's okay, Harry. I wanted to talk with her anyway, just her. I need to ask her a few questions, is all. You know," she said, staring at Audrey, "get to know her a bit."

Harry looked between them. Hermione and Audrey were staring daggers at each other; neither one noticed Harry moving his eyes to each of them.

But then, right on time, Dana in a pink swim suit came skipping into the room with sunscreen in one hand and floaters in the other.

"Less go, Daddy!" she called out excitedly.

Audrey broke the glare to kiss Dana good-bye, then grabbed Harry's hand and gave him a swift, quick kiss to the lips. "Have a good time," she said to him, then ruffled her daughter's hair. "Be back soon."

Harry didn't chance another glance at either one of them again. He just nodded and walked out the door with Dana, shutting it behind him with ease.

"Harry's my husband," Audrey said immediately. "I understand he's your friend but you need to know where I'm coming from."

"You don't own him," Hermione said bravely.

"No? Have you ever been married, Hermione? See, when a man and a woman get married something really strange happens. I belong to Harry, and he belongs to me. I give myself to him, and he gives himself to me. I know his secrets, and he knows mine. So I'd have to disagree with you, Hermione. I do own him as he owns me."

"I've known him for thirteen years; a lot longer than you have."

"And somehow that gives you precedent over him?" she asked snidely. "If he was your husband and I, his close friend of thirteen years, embraced him like that, would you tolerate it?"

Hermione clenched her fists and cursed herself for losing control of her emotions as a few tears leaked from her eyes. "I love him! Okay? Are you happy now?" she cried as she gritted her teeth. "I admit it! I love your husband. I love him so much I can't stand to look at you and him together. I've loved him for years and I regret not saying or doing something about it. But I would never, ever, commit adultery or make him unfaithful to you. I don't care anything about you, Audrey, and I doubt I ever will, but I know you make Harry happy. I want what makes him happy, so I want you around. As much as I hate to say it, I know you've made him happy, and I congratulate you!" she screamed. "You won!" she screamed again. "You did something I couldn't do! He loves you so damn much that it rips my insides apart because I know he doesn't feel the same way about me! There," she continued yelling, "are you happy now, Audrey? Is that what you wanted to hear from me?"

Audrey's mouth fell open a bit, and she relaxed her stance. She uncrossed her arms and stood up straight as she watched Hermione cry freely.

"I tried kissing him when I took care of him for a week. He turned away from me and didn't ever tell me why. I know he's yours," she cried. "Don't take it out on him, he's done nothing wrong and never has."

Audrey nodded and sighed. "I know he hasn't," she said, not aggressively.

Hermione wiped her tears with her hands but didn't look at Audrey as she did so.

"I'm sorry I reacted like I did," Audrey said. "I know how much he means to you. I just get worried sometimes is all. He's known you longer than me."

Hermione stopped wiping her eyes and stared into Audrey's face. "Why are you apologizing?" she asked quizzically.

"I'm not. Well, not really. I'm apologizing for being bitch Audrey toward you but not for my opinion on what just happened."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Audrey, wondering if she should take the next step. "Why did you fall in love with him?" she asked, hoping it sounded genuine.

Audrey's face showed no change; she let the question wash over her but neither smiled nor frowned in concentration.

"Why did you?" Audrey asked in response.

"I asked you first," Hermione said. "What is it about Harry that attracted you?"

Audrey took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before releasing it. "Harry saw me from across a room. It was a while before I felt him looking at me. But when I did...I saw something in his eyes, a genuine attraction, almost awe, as he looked at me. The physical attraction came first. He was still a little thin back then, but he was very handsome, and he carried a confident aura about him. He talked to me like I was just a regular person, and I talked that way to him. We just clicked, Hermione. We have a lot in common. But it was more than that. Harry's lost his innocence. With that comes a maturity that no one can match. He's been around the bend, seen awful things, and has fought battles. What's a woman not to like?"

Hermione nodded understandingly but wouldn't let her slip away so easily. "It's just that I'm a little confused. I can't see myself, with an infant, dating someone five years younger than me."

"That's the difference between you and me," Audrey answered.

"There's a ton more than that," Hermione responded quickly. "Where did you go when you were missing for a week a few months before you met Harry?" She crossed her arms, shift her weight to one side, and bit her bottom lip.

"Why do you care?" Audrey asked her.

"It was a big time in your life," Hermione said in a false sweetness reminiscent to Umbridge. "I thought we were sharing."

"Scotland," Audrey replied. "Glasgow. I stayed in a hotel with Dana. I just had to get away from all of it for a while."

"And a few months later you decided to take Harry in?" she asked.

Audrey smirked. "I don't like your tone," she said coolly just above a whisper. "How dare you presume to know what it's like to live in another's shoes."

"Especially when they're not really yours," Hermione said.

Audrey made a funny face of confusion. "What?" she asked.

"It didn't take much to realize that what Harry wanted most from life was exactly what you gave him just when he needed it most. And you and I both know that he won't give it up for anything. He'll do whatever it takes to keep you and Dana, and you know it. Family is the one thing he's wanted most and the one thing he won't sacrifice for anything. He'll warp his life around to accommodate the both of you. You're more than you put on, Audrey. You have access to the most powerful wizard of our time. You say jump and he asks how high. I know who has control in the marriage. Harry thinks he has some, but you're the one calling all the shots. You know his fears, you know his secrets, you know what he likes and how he likes it. Your plan has failed because I know that you know those things about him."

Audrey's smirk grew into a smile. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

Now Hermione smiled. "The only way Leucosia could see into Harry's mind is if he lets her in. And he lets you in."

"So you've figured me out?" she asked with a smile. "I'm Leucosia, eh? I stabbed him through the heart? I made him look guilty to the public of murder? I'm torturing him?"

Hermione didn't waver or step down. "Yes."

"Uh huh," Audrey said casually. "When Harry comes home, why don't you share the opinion."

Hermione blinked several times and swallowed, but she still didn't move.

"You can't frighten me," Hermione said.

"And you can't intimidate me with false accusations. You said so yourself. Harry loves me. Instead of accepting it fully you're trying to find a way to make it false so you can weasel your way inside. We have a daughter, Hermione. Think about her."

Hermione's breathing became deep and labored as her temper rose. "Why don't you?" she said.

"You actually think I'm Leucosia? You're the one that's delusional."

"Please, Audrey. You actually think you can fool all of us with this disguise? The prefect housewife, young, beautiful, kind woman with a matching background to Harry's who just happens to be interested in a 21 year old Auror fresh out of school? Harry may be blinded by your charms, but I'm not. I'll expose you for who you really are."

"Do it," Audrey said. "Go tell The Daily Prophet your story. Tell Harry, by all means, what you think. I'm sure he'd love to find out. But the thing is, you're story is slanted. Your motivation behind this is jealousy and everyone knows it."

"Admit it, you coward," Hermione said to her. "You're Leucosia and you're manipulating, raping, and using Harry to get what you want."

"Wrong," Audrey said firmly. "I love him and he knows it. He can sense it, he can see it. There's nothing Harry can't see, don't you understand that? He knows you love him, he's known it for years," she said as Hermione's face slowly dropped. "Oh yes. He can read you better than you give him credit for. He's known the moment his telepathy kicked in. He told me you would look at him differently than everyone, hug him longer than you would anyone else, talk to him like you loved him, and dated people not because you liked them but to make Harry jealous. Pity none of it worked. He never once considered being with you when I was around. He's devoted to me. Get it into your supposedly intelligent mind and leave us in peace."

Hermione's bottom lip was quivering with the new information, and she didn't want to cry in front of Audrey about this. But she knew she would cry. Hermione made an about face and marched to the fireplace, tossed in floo powder, and jumped inside to disappear.

She tumbled out, covering her red face, into the IWBI where Ashika was awaiting her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, walking to Hermione and pulling her hands from her face. "Hermione, what happened?" she asked.

But Hermione didn't want to repeat what Audrey had said, at least not now. She shook her head at Ashika and extracted herself from her.

"I want to go home," she said.

Ashika nodded and led her to a portal that would take her back to her house. She said nothing to Hermione, nor did she ask her any more questions.

When Hermione did reach home, she didn't try holding herself back anymore. Her knees gave way as she crumbled to the floor in a sob so violent it shook her. So Harry did know how she really felt about him. Hermione always thought that men couldn't sense when a woman was attracted to him, no matter how obvious it was. But he could see into her mind and knew exactly how she felt about him these past years. He could see her fantasies about him, the dreams she had of him, the replaying of her moments with him, which she clung to. He saw it all. He knew she carried a torch for him yet he did nothing about it. Audrey was right, Harry preferred Audrey over Hermione otherwise she would have him now instead of Audrey.

Hermione hated Audrey before she even met her, but now she really hated her. Something about her rubbed Hermione the wrong way, and she couldn't put her finger on it. She was just too... perfect. She was too beautiful, too friendly, too soft spoken, and too good to be true. What was wrong about her? What flaws did she have?

Hermione found that she stopped crying when she focused on Audrey's lack of flaws. Everyone had something wrong with them. She could write a list of flaws Harry and Ron had, even the one's she possessed. Harry could be short tempered, harsh, jump to conclusions, and had a tendency and skill to lie with a straight face. Ron could be dense, clumsy with words, and usually wrong about something when he was trying very hard. Vanessa, his girlfriend, also had character flaws. Hermione had known her a short time but she knew full well that Vanessa was a bit materialistic, loved money, did whatever to get money, and was a tad nosey. But Audrey?

Her row with Hermione had been well founded. Hermione wouldn't want someone embracing her husband like she was with Harry. For heaven's sake, she made an effort to smell him. And boy did he smell good. So fighting with Hermione about it wasn't unreasonable at all. What were Audrey's flaws? She was always careful with her words, cordial to people, a good mother (at least from what she'd seen), and almost maternal with Harry. She had no physical flaws and Hermione hadn't seen any character flaws.

Hermione gathered herself off the floor and made her way to the couch, where she collapsed in it. What about Audrey wouldn't a man love? She was the perfect loyal little wife, willing to live in secret, willing to go months without seeing Harry, willing to bend over backwards for what he wanted. She was totally selfless and gave Harry everything she had, and he took it.

Grabbing a pad of paper and pen from the coffee table, Hermione began to list character traits Audrey must have to live with Harry. Audrey had to be patient with him, understanding, tolerant of his tempers and outbursts, multitasking to take care of Harry and her daughter, and very trusting.

On the other side of the paper she listed the traits Leucosia had to have. She too had to be patient because her plans were long and drawn out; she had a great understanding of Harry and of humankind in general; she was an excellent strategist and a powerful leader and had to trust her Black Order with her biddings.

It didn't occur to Hermione that she was stretching everything in order to link Audrey with Leucosia--it just seemed obvious to her. Leucosia was confident; at least that's what it sounded like from Harry's recounts of her. She was confident that Harry would fall into place and do whatever she wanted. The only way Leucosia could know Harry so intimately would be to be intimate with him. It was so obvious Hermione wondered if other people had even considered it, Harry included.

Suddenly there was a surprising knock on the door, causing Hermione to jump a little. She put her hand to her chest and sighed from the slight fright. Then she pushed herself off the couch and started for the door. The person on the other side knocked again.

"Coming," Hermione said.

She reached for the handle and yanked the door open.

"Miss Granger," a cool and familiar voice said to her from behind a silver reflective mask.

Hermione's eyes bulged open, and she instinctively shut the door and locked it. Her heart was beating out of control as she stepped backwards further into her house. She grabbed her wand from the coffee table and gripped it tight in her right hand.

The voice belonged to Lucius Malfoy. He was alone, dressed in a black cloak with an eerie silver mask on his face, the lips of it pulled up in a smile.

"Apparate away," Hermione told herself, trying to calm down. "Apparate to the Ministry of Magic."

Only she couldn't. She didn't know if it was her nerves or a spell that had been cast onto her house, but she couldn't get away. She raised her wand to the door, her hand shaking so the wand was trembling, and waited to defend herself.

Her door knob twittered.

Hermione's breathing became quick.

Malfoy knocked again and tried opening the door.

Hermione started to shake all over and felt herself crying. "Help," she whispered hoarsely. "Help," she repeated a little louder.

Then she heard glass breaking down her hall. Hermione backed herself into the living room corner and stared down the hall, then looked back at her front door. "Help," she cried.

For a moment she could only hear herself breathing.

Then all at once, three men, all adorned in shining black robes and cloaks, their faces covered with silver grinning masks, ripped through her home and walked toward her slowly.

"St-Stupefy," she said, pointing her shaking wand at one of the men. But her hand was trembling so severely she missed completely and the red beam hit a vase. "Stupefy," she said again, this time hitting one of them. Only it had no affect.

"Miss Granger," Malfoy said to her, "do be a good girl and cooperate with us."

"Stupefy!" she yelled, but again there was no effect.

Hermione pushed out of her corner and ran toward her door, but one of them men grabbed her around the middle, picked her up, and threw her against the wall where she banged the side of her face and slid to the floor.

"Now, now, Miss Granger," Malfoy went on, "you should know from previous experience that I will not let you escape unscathed."

"Leave me alone!" Hermione cried for what it was worth.

Malfoy laughed behind his mask and lift her to her feet.

"Try to run again," he urged her.

But Hermione knew they were just playing with her, teasing her to try to run for it and make a sport of her.

"No?" he asked. He took her wand, grabbed her by the waist, and tossed her to another man, who grabbed her breasts and held her back to his stomach. Hermione tried to free herself, but he was too strong. The third man came up to her and struck her face with the back of his hand then laughed coldly.

"Now gentlemen," Malfoy chuckled. "We have our orders."

The man holding Hermione moved his hands to her wrists and pulled them behind her back while the third man seized her hair and pulled back so Hermione's neck was stretched and exposed.

"Help me!" she screamed.

"Dear, dear, where is your hero now, Miss Granger?" Malfoy said as he fiddled with something in his pocket. "If only Potter could hear you, he would save you. He would take it instead."

Malfoy got so close Hermione could feel his hot breath on her cheeks. "But you'll see him soon," he whispered in her ear. "I promise you that. And now I fear I must do what I was ordered to do. I admit that I'm not sorry about it."

Withdrawn from Malfoy's pocket was a silver dagger, which gleamed and glinted in the moonlight pouring in from the windows.

"No," Hermione said, trying futilely to escape. But she was held in such a way that she couldn't move at all. "No, please," she cried as Malfoy brought the knife to his eye level. "Help me!" she cried again. "Please, no!" she said to Malfoy, but he was set.

He re-gripped the dagger in his hand, then, with his free left hand, he rubbed her cheek with his thumb and snickered to himself. Hermione's focus was not on his touch but on the clear edged silver blade, which was moving away from her, then paused.

But it wasn't paused for long. In one fast motion Malfoy sped the dagger and plunged it into her heart.

Hermione let a painful choked cry escape her throat. Malfoy laughed and twisted the blade in her heart. Hermione cried again but it was near silent. The men holding her released her and she felt like she could fall back, but the dagger was keeping her upright.

"Goodbye, Granger," Malfoy whispered, then tore the knife from her chest.

Hermione fell back, but she didn't hit the floor--she disappeared.