Harry Potter and the Emerald Sceptre

~~~~ Chapter 5 ~~~~

Confrontations

Mulciber had no mask on and was dressed as a Muggle, but his jeans and bomber jacket made him look as friendly as he really was. His hand was in his pocket, presumably wrapped tightly around his wand. Harry didn't stop to think, instinctively he ran forwards, but he was twenty feet away.

"LUPIN, IN HERE!" he yelled at the top of his voice. All three Dursleys turned at the sound of the familiar voice; Mulciber took a step towards them. Looks of terror crossed their faces as they took in the image before them. On their left they saw a man who bore the instrument they feared more than the nuclear bomb: a wand. A wicked grin spread over Mulciber's face. Harry was 14 feet away, running full pelt at the Death Eater. Mulciber raised the wand; Harry was still seven feet away, six.

All three Dursleys flattened themselves against the wall.

Five feet, four.

"Stupef..."

Harry crashed head-on into the Death Eater's stomach. The impact sent Mulciber sliding away on the floor and his stunner ricocheted into a shop window, causing it to shatter into hundreds of shards of glass, which rained down on the Dursleys. Screams erupted from all directions. Muggles were panicking all around them and running for the exits. Mulciber lost his grip on the wand as he fell - it bounced away towards a nearby shop. The balcony around them was deserted, panic stricken Muggles had had the sense to leave. This meant that no bystanders would be hit; it also left Harry on his own with a fully-grown and very angry Death Eater.

'Where are the bloody Order?' thought Harry to himself. The severity of his situation now dawned on him. He was confronted with a man who had killed many innocent civilians and was quite capable of killing a sixth year student. Adrenalin pumped through Harry's veins. He withdrew his wand and raised it towards his opponent's chest, but Mulciber was too quick; too late Harry saw Mulciber's right foot coming up towards his arm. His boot collided with Harry's arm, sending his wand sailing over the edge of the balcony and judging by the small splash, into the fountain. Harry was now unarmed, concentrating hard, he summoned all the energy he could muster.

Harry fired a banishing charm at the Death Eater's chest. The effect of the charm was reduced because of the absence of a wand but it still launched Mulciber against the wall several feet away. The impact caused several tiles to crack; two even fell away as the Death Eater's body collided with them. Mulciber slumped forwards onto the cold tiled floor. He was unconscious. For how long, Harry couldn't say. The spell wasn't a stunner and hadn't used a wand. Mulciber could wake up any minute. Harry had to get the Dursleys away from the danger. To stand any chance of survival, Harry would need his wand. He ran to the balcony and peered over. The fountain was identical to the one in the other wing of the shopping centre. Harry couldn't see his wand; it had to be camouflaged by the masses of coins shoppers had thrown into the fountain. He didn't know where it was so he couldn't summon it. Harry was alone and unarmed, his situation was not hopeful. He glanced desperately around looking for inspiration. Below him was a metal shack that sold Hotdogs and Burgers. On this floor, immediately beside him, there was a Perfumery and a Lingerie retailer. Neither perfume nor underwear were particularly useful in a battle, well not as a weapon at least.

"Are you hurt?" Harry asked his relatives as he knelt beside them. "Are you hit?" All three of them were incapable of speech. Fear had taken hold. They were rooted to the spot in sheer terror. "It's okay, Uncle Vernon. Come on, let's get you out of here." He put one of his Uncle's arms around his neck and tried to lift him. Unfortunately he was not strong enough. "Come on, Uncle Vernon. I need you to help me."

"POTTER!" shouted a voice. Harry looked up to see Antonin Dolohov advancing on him.

"Stay down!" Harry told the Dursleys. He needn't have said anything, for the sight of a fully-grown wizard who in their view was definitely here to kill them had reduced the three of them to snivelling heaps. Harry jumped to his feet, adrenalin alone was keeping him going, yet nothing could stop the fear. There was still no sign of the others. Dolohov was now only ten feet away; he raised his wand and fired a curse at Harry. Using his Quidditch reflexes Harry dived aside and the curse struck a pot plant outside the Perfumery. The ceramic pot shattered and potting mix was sent flying in all directions. Harry needed a weapon. He dodged another curse and then he noticed that he was outside of a Hardware shop. Concentrating hard, he summoned a broom handle from the display rack in the DIY store beside him. He swung it with all his might. It connected with Dolohov's wand arm. Harry heard a sickening crack on impact; Dolohov screamed and clutched his broken arm.

"Stupefy!" yelled Harry. Dolohov froze and keeled over. Since the spell was used without a wand, it would only have a slight effect. Harry had to get the Dursleys out of here before either Mulciber or Dolohov woke up, which was likely to be any minute. Harry turned back to face the Dursleys. To his horror he saw Goyle senior running towards them.

Before Harry could react, the Death Eater keeled over, Harry saw Dumbledore and Remus emerge from behind him, their wands raised. Their character defining smiles were gone; anger filled both of their eyes. Not for the first time, Harry truly appreciated why Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort ever feared.

"Harry, get out of here," yelled Lupin. "...Look out!"

Harry heard movement behind him. Mulciber was on his feet again, his wand in his hand. Harry was between Dumbledore and Mulciber. If they fired they might hit him. There was nothing he could do. Why hadn't he just left as he had agreed to do? Reckless Harry was always getting himself into these situations. Ironically, people thought he was brave and heroic for doing it. On the contrary, he was foolhardy and stupid. He was about to pay the price for his lack of forethought.

"Harry!" shouted a voice. It was Aunt Petunia. She threw something to him. He caught it easily. Looking down it was a small glass jar, the ones they sell spices and herbs in. Inside was a navy blue liquid. The label said, in his Aunt's neat writing; Alegradia. Alegradia? Where had Harry seen that name before? Of course in potions, Alegradia is a sleeping draught that turns to vapour; a sort of sleeping gas. What was Aunt Petunia doing with one of these? Never mind, he had more urgent problems to deal with. Harry threw the glass bottle at the floor before Mulciber. It shattered on impact releasing a thick blue smoke. Mulciber could no longer be seen but his coughing could be heard from the other wing. Suddenly a figure came stumbling through the smoke. The potion was working but too slowly. He couldn't walk properly, the drunkenly staggered towards Harry, trying to hold his wand steady. On reflex, Harry jumped over the balcony and landed on the roof of the hotdog stand, six feet below him. He jumped the remaining few feet down to the floor.

"STUPEFY!"

Looking up he saw flashes of red light reflect from the ceiling. Mulciber had been stunned once again. Dumbledore had the Dursleys secure now. Harry had promised Lupin that he would leave if it all kicked off, he glanced around looking for a sign to the exit.

CRASH!

Harry heard a scream behind him, Tonks was lying in the wreckage of a wooden bench, Macnair was advancing on her, his wand away; his axe raised. Tonks herself was covered in splintered wood. Blood appeared to be seeping from a cut on her head, beneath her hair. Her blond hair was soaking it up like a sponge. She could hardly move. She was desperately trying to reach her wand but she didn't appear to have the energy. Just as her fingers touched the wand, Macnair viciously kicked it away. Tonks recoiled, clutching her hand in pain. Unfortunately the wand had not travelled towards Harry, it disappeared through an open door into carpet and rug shop.

Harry looked around for a weapon. The hotdog stand offered no option. Neither did the tent that sold mobile phone covers. Between the two was a small section of scaffolding, towering up to beneath the balcony where a workman had been repairing a light. Harry grabbed a spare piece of scaffold, measuring about one and a half metres long and four centimetres thick. It was heavy but Harry could still swing it. He ran forward, straight at Macnair. He swung it at the Death Eater, but Macnair had seen him coming. He ducked and Harry's momentum carried him straight through the window of an antiques shop. Harry lay in the ruins of a display of antique vases and dolls. He had cuts all over his face and hands from the shattered glass. He rolled over and tried to stand. Pain erupted through his side, as he was now lying on sharp pieces of glass, which had slipped into his clothes. He could feel pieces pushing into his side, all around his waist and neckline.

"The mother of all prizes," growled Macnair as he entered the shop, his axe raised. Harry was just about able to stand, pain filled his ribs and head, he glanced around the shop looking for a means to defend himself. There, he saw it, concentrating hard, he summoned it to him. As the axe fell towards Harry, a Samurai Sword flew out of the cabinet and into Harry's hands. He raised it to block the attack.

"Impressive, Potter," snarled Macnair. "But not good enough." He kicked Harry hard in the gut, causing Harry to retch and drop the sword. Harry crumpled onto the floor as Macnair swung again. Harry hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of him. The next thing he felt was an excruciating pain in his right wrist. He looked down.

His hand was lying six inches from the rest of his arm!

Harry tried to scream but no sound came out. He looked up at Macnair who had raised his axe once more, a gleam of victory apparent in his eyes.

"Macnair, stop!" Snape had entered the shop. "The Master wants him alive. He was meant to be in one piece but that can't be helped now. Just grab him an..."

"STUPEFY!" Tonks was conscious again though still did not have the energy to stand, she was sprawled out just inside the doorway. Her hair was drenched with blood; she had a cut eye in addition to the cut above the hairline and was holding her other arm close to her chest.

"Potter, listen to me," said Snape kneeling beside him.

"Get away, you're one of them. You just said it yourself."

"Continue to shout at me if you wish. At least then I know you are alive. I couldn't just stun him. Once he got out of prison, and he inevitably will, he could tell the Dark Lord that I am a spy. My cover would be blown. Now listen to me. Stay awake, Potter concentrate on me. Keep talking, count to one hundred." What was Snape on about? Harry couldn't concentrate, the pain in his arm was too severe. He grasped the stump with his left hand; he could feel the hot sticky blood spreading over his robes.

"What?" stuttered Harry.

"Count to one hundred Potter, so I know you are conscious."

"Do it, Harry. It will keep your mind off the pain," added Tonks, as she tried to stand. She made it onto one knee then fell forwards again.

"One, two, three, four..."

Lupin, Dumbledore and ran into the shop, both froze in horror. Tonks was sprawled out on the floor; her hair caked with blood where she had hit the bench. Harry was cradling a bloody stump where his right hand used to be and Snape was crouching over Harry, wrapping his coat tightly around his stump in an effort to stop the bleeding. Harry could tell how serious his condition was by Snape's attitude. He hadn't made one cynical or obnoxious remark; that meant that Harry was well and truly done for.

"Get Poppy, quickly," said Dumbledore urgently to Snape, who disappeared immediately. The Headmaster leant over Tonks examining her head.

"Harry, lay back," said Lupin softly, he eased Harry down. Harry was beginning to feel faint from blood loss. Remus was starting to become blurred. "Albus, is there anything you can do?"

"I am not a doctor. I could end up doing more harm than good. Poppy will be here soon. Hold on Harry!"

"Harry, Madame Pomfrey will be here soon, just lie still," said Lupin. Fear filled his eyes. Harry wasn't going to survive that long and he knew it, breathing was becoming difficult.

Images started to flash before his eyes.

He was six; Ripper had chased him up the tree. Harry had just managed to get away from the brute. He could feel the bark of the tree in his hands. The bark of the dog echoed through his ears.

He was nine; Dudley had hung him by his coat's hood from a branch of the tree in the school playground. They had cornered him in the cloakroom. Piers and Dudley had hoisted him up onto the branch, suspending him from the hood of this jacket. The teacher had come along and scolded Harry for climbing the tree.

He was eleven, Fluffy was bearing down on him, he could smell the putrid breath of all three of Fluffy's heads. Saliva dribbled down its enormous chins. Harry could see the glimmer in its six eyes just as clearly as when it had happened for real.

He was thirteen; Neville was fighting the Boggart in the staff room. Snape stood before them in a green dress, red handbag and a large hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

He was fifteen; Sirius was falling through the veil, Harry would see him soon.

He was sixteen; Arwen had flown in the window. Then it struck him.

"Arwen," he screamed out loud, "I need you!"

Phoenix song filled the shop. Dumbledore and Remus looked up as the glowing cyan bird flew elegantly into the wreckage of the shop. She landed next to Harry, surveying him carefully through her sharp, narrow eyes. She cocked her head and tears began to flow from her eyes. Six or seven drops and Harry's hand had stopped bleeding; scar tissue had appeared over the end of the stump. Harry was still alive but not strong enough to move.

Madame Pomfrey and Snape appeared with a crack. She rushed to Harry and gave him some Blood-Replenishing Potion before going to tend to Tonks. Harry downed the Potion, which tasted like cod liver oil. Immediately he felt strength return to him, his breathing steadied, he sat up. The shop was coming back into focus. It was a mess. It would take a lot of Reparo charms to fix this establishment.

"Harry... why didn't you tell us you had been adopted?" asked Lupin looking relieved, as the Dursleys arrived in the shop lead by Moody. Dudley and Uncle Vernon were white. They didn't have a drop of blood to fill their faces. They looked like that had seen a ghost. Aunt Petunia still retained what little colour her cheeks normally held. She didn't look terrified as her husband and son did, she looked more nervous and apprehensive than scared.

"I didn't have a chance," answered Harry, returning to Remus' question. "After it happened, the first time I had a chance to, you were a little busy with Professor Black and I kind of forgot after that," apologised Harry.

Several loud cracks filled the hallway. Four figures in Auror robes had appeared. They were dressed in the customary red with their hoods up. Red cloth was wrapped around their faces, probably due to the fact that the Alegradia gas hadn't dispersed totally yet.

"Freeze!" one of them shouted, "You're all under arrest!" Harry rose to his feet, aided by Lupin. Tonks was being supported by Snape. Together they made their way out into the hall. There followed another succession or cracks and Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic appeared in the room, flanked by Dolores Umbridge and Percy Weasley.

"What the blazes has happened here? Dumbledore! What have you done?" asked the Minister, "Does the Statute of Secrecy mean nothing? Ah, of course, Harry Potter, I should have known. Never one to miss a chance to show off. Let me guess, a House-Elf decimated the Mall?" He laughed to himself; the only one who joined him was Percy Weasley.

"Death Eaters were here Cornelius," said Dumbledore coolly.

"Death Eaters, where?" yelped Fudge going pale. The Aurors quickly surrounded the minister and his secretaries.

"Here's one, there are three more upstairs," said Harry weakly.

"Harry Potter!" gasped an Auror.

"Well done, Dawlish," growled Moody, "You failed to master close protection protocols but I see that you have mastered the use of your eyes."

"YOU!" roared Fudge. "You were fired, you freak, I knew you were rotten from day one. What was I thinking keeping you around all those years? I was right to bin you, and YOU," he turned to Tonks. "You are going to follow him. This is treason against the Minister. You will burn for this, Nymphadora."

'Surely he didn't meant at the stake?' Thought Harry, remembering an essay in the third year.

"Minister, you can take this job and shove it up your arse!" spat Tonks. "Aurors are supposed to protect the innocent, keep the peace and above all stop Dark Wizards from coming to power. You tied our hands last year and it nearly claimed the life of the only one who can stop him." She gestured to Harry. "I won't sit by while others die, while Death Eaters go unpunished. If I have to choose between my job and an innocent life then you can go and screw yourself." Harry was impressed by Tonks's outburst. She was always so warm and friendly, now there was not a trace of a smile on her face. Harry was reminded of the time when he first saw Dumbledore angry at the end of his fourth year.

"So be it," spat Fudge. He glared at each of them in turn. Finally he came to Harry. "Harry Potter; is this the company you wish to keep? Two treacherous Aurors, a batty old codger, a reformed Death Eater, if such a thing exists, a werewolf and failed Healer, reduced to a school sick room."

"Cornelius Fudge, is this the company you keep?" asked Harry pointing at Macnair's unconscious form. "Macnair, named Death Eater, employed by you for ten years. Lucius Malfoy, named Death Eater, rotting in jail as we speak that is if he hasn't escaped yet. He had your ear for nearly a decade as well." Fudge stood gaping like a goldfish. "I believe the word you are looking for is, touché."

"Alright boy, enough is enough. I offer you a chance to come out of this with your freedom and you spit it back in my face. You have chosen to stick with your comrades and shall share their fate. I gave you a license for Magic and you cause a shoot out with a ministry employee. AURORS!"

The four Aurors took a step forward. Harry still didn't have his wand. Even if he did, he didn't have the energy to use it. He saw Lupin's wand being drawn from his pocket. Dumbledore, Moody and Snape did the same.

"Stupefy!"

'Odd,' thought Harry. None of the Order had fired. Three Aurors lay unconscious on the floor. The minister and his secretaries stood flabbergasted while the fourth Auror stood with his wand aimed at the Minister. The Minister turned to face the last of the Aurors. His wand was pointed directly at him. Fear visibly surged through him. The Auror calmly raised a hand and his hood fell back, revealing the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"What is the meaning of this, Shacklebolt?" shouted Fudge.

"I can't let you do it," whispered Kingsley calmly.

"You are with them?" screeched Umbridge in shock.

"Yes," said Kingsley bluntly.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing? You will end up in Azkaban for this!"

"I was under the impression that Azkaban had been destroyed. Anyway, unlike you, I will not sit idle. You would join the Dark Lord if he offered to keep you as Minister, wouldn't you? If you remember, Minister, I took an Oath when I joined, as did every Auror, Moody and Tonks included."

"An Oath of Allegiance to me!" barked Fudge.

"An Oath of Allegiance to the cause," corrected Kingsley. "To peace and justice. A promise to do everything in my power to serve and protect the innocent, to fight evil in whatever form it takes. If that takes me away from your service then so be it."

"It seems you are in a bit of a pickle, Cornelius," remarked Dumbledore. "Where do we go from here?"

"Who is this cretin?" asked a gruff voice. It was uncle Vernon, having finally found his voice.

"This, Uncle Vernon," replied Harry "is the Minister of Magic. He, or rather she," he pointed at Umbridge, "was the one who sent the Dementors after Dudley last year to force me to use magic. He is the one who failed to act when Lord Voldemort returned." Everyone except Dumbledore, Lupin and Harry cringed at the name "He was the one who failed to recognise the Death Eaters who attacked you today even though they worked for him. He was the one who let Death Eaters acquire ranking positions in the ministry for a sum of gold"

"Enough!" roared Fudge. He continued to mutter to himself, Harry heard the word 'preposterous' and 'unfounded.'

"So basically, he is a bit of an arsehole," squeaked Dudley, before being clipped around the back of the head by his mother.

"An accurate description," growled Moody.

"Enough of this. Such bickering serves no purpose. You are free to go, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. "But remember what I said after the tournament. You could have been known, in or out of office, as the greatest Minister ever or the Minister who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort's second coming. You chose, and chose wrongly I might add, but an error is not a mistake until you refuse to correct it."

"What would you have us do?" inquired Percy Weasley. "Authorise the Unforgivable Curses? Unleash the Aurors to shoot on sight? Give you your little army back?"

"Precisely," said Dumbledore

"I think not, there would be no order. Schoolchildren being taught to fight? Schoolyard quarrels would turn to massacres. Our way of life would fall"

"It already has," growled Moody.

"Ridiculous," replied Percy puffing his chest out. "The Ministry is in complete control. Now is that all?"

"NO IT BLOODY WELL IS NOT ALL" screamed a voice, one that Harry would forever associate with Howlers. Molly Weasley had materialised in the room.

"PERCIVAL WEASLEY, STAY WHERE YOU ARE! WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? YOU BROTHER AND SISTER NEARLY DIED LAST YEAR BECAUSE OF YOUR STUPIDITY, STUPIDITY PERCY! IS YOUR POSITION WORTH YOUR BROTHER AND SISTER'S LIFE? WE GAVE YOU EVERYTHING WE COULD AND YOU REPAY US WITH THIS." Harry saw Percy's arrogant stare diminish under his mother's wrath. But she wasn't finished. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN THE MAN YOU WANTED TO BE, TO BE A FORCE FOR GOOD. TO MAKE THINGS BETTER BUT ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER! DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR GRAND PLANS? REFORMS TO LAW ENFORCEMENT, STRICTER RULES FOR APPARATION. YOU COULD HAVE HELPED US ALL, BUT NO YOU FORSOOK ALL THAT IN FAVOUR OF A PROMOTION. YOU ARE NO BETTER THEN YOU-KNOW-WHO! HAVE YOU THOUGHT NOTHING FOR THE SUFFERING OF OTHERS, FOR ALL THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR LIVES AND WILL LOSE THEIR LIVES BECAUSE OF YOUR AMBITION? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

With that she Disapparated.

"It seems Mr. Weasley that you made a serious error of judgment. But as I have just told your employer, an error is not a mistake until you fail to rectify it. I am offering you a job, a chance to redeem yourself and to make a real difference," said Dumbledore, hope twinkled behind his eyes.

"That would be treason to Mr. Fudge."

"The Ministry is bigger than any one man," hissed Moody.

"Then I must decline. You will soon come crawling back. Begging our forgiveness. I will always be ready to accept your apology," replied Percy.

"Mr Dursley," said Fudge. "I regret that you had to witness the events of today. If you will come with me, I will return you to your homes,"

"No!" said Harry to his Uncle, "He'll wipe your memory and even if he does send you home, they will come for you again, remember the park, and the Dementors. Your only hope is to stay with us."

"You are willing to take the word of a juvenile delinquent over the Minister of Magic?" said Umbridge in her characteristic girly tone.

"Whatever I feel about him is my own affair, woman," said Uncle Vernon. "I have never trusted Politicians and now I find one that tried to have my Son's soul sucked out. It shouldn't surprise you that I don't trust you."

"You trust them instead? As your nephew has explained, you are in a very high-risk situation; they can't protect you. I command the Ministry of Magic, I can keep you safe," said the Minister

"Incarcerated, don't you mean," said Aunt Petunia. "Just like you did all those years ago." Harry froze. What had Fudge done? Lupin had said that something had happened that had caused her to resent the wizarding world. From what Harry had just seen, it would appear that Fudge had had something to do with it, or the Ministry at least.

"Look at who you are siding with, Madam," said Umbridge. She pointed at Remus. "That one is a werewolf, you may not know of our world, but you must have heard of a werewolf. This one believed his dustbins attacked him a few years ago. Surely you don't trust Half-Breeds and Nutcases?"

"I don't trust these people," said Uncle Vernon. "They have threatened my family, destroyed our living room and given my son a pig's tail..."

"So you agree with us then," said Percy Weasley puffing out his chest, "If you would just..."

"I WASN'T FINISHED BOY!" bellowed Uncle Vernon so loud, that all three politicians cowered back from this apparently mad, yet unarmed Muggle, even though they had their wands. "Whatever they have done, they have never, NEVER, sent monsters after my son, to top that they nearly got themselves killed here today in an effort to save us, my nephew lost a hand today in order to protect us. He trusts these people, it is perhaps against my better judgment, but I too will trust them."

"That is your cue to leave, Cornelius," said Remus pleasantly. Fudge looked at each of them in turn, finding no allies he was forced to admit defeat. They turned and left with three cracks.

"I think this is also our cue to leave. Severus, Alastor and Kingsley, would you be kind enough as to stay and repair some of the damage? Mend what you can but leave the odd bit of damage. Remove the bodies and deliver them to the Ministry cells. You have the Amulets in case they attempt to detain you. Too many Muggles had seen this so we can't Obliviate them all. The Aurors work with Muggle police at times. See if you can find a Muggle gun and put some holes in the walls. With luck they will believe that this was just gang warfare. Severus, burn the Dark Mark into the wall. If you could then stay and inform the police of what happened, use spells if you have to. That should be enough to cover this up. The rest of us are returning to Grimmauld Place."

Remus fished Harry's wand out of the fountain, while Dumbledore picked up the sword that Harry had tried to defend himself with. He sheathed it and turned it into a Portkey.

"Everyone take hold. Mr. Dursley, if you would hold on. This may feel a little strange but don't let go. I promise nothing will happen to you or your family." Nervously three Dursleys took hold of the sword. Harry held on with his one remaining hand, the other held tightly and protectively to his chest. He felt a familiar jerk behind his naval and he was home. They landed in the lounge. The fire was burning, the room looked warm and welcoming. Unable to stand any longer Harry collapsed on the floor. The sword was dropped and Harry felt a pair of hands hoist him onto a sofa.

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Aunt Petunia, looking worried.

"I'll live," muttered Harry.

"Where in the blazes are we?" asked Uncle Vernon admiring the décor.

"We are in central London. This is my humble abode. Well, I share it with Remus, the one with brown hair who is a werewolf."

"I never knew he was a werewolf," remarked Aunt Petunia.

"It isn't too hard to hide. 28 days of the month he is human, the other three he is a wolf. He's harmless though."

"You own this? Why did you not tell us?" asked Uncle Vernon.

"I only found out on the day of the play park incident. I have hardly seen you since."

There were several cracks as the wizards appeared in the room. Tonks was conscious and being supported by Remus and Madame Pomfrey. Dumbledore arrived a few seconds later, along with Narcissa.

"You!" gasped Uncle Vernon.

"Yes, me," responded Narcissa flatly.

Remus helped Tonks onto the sofa. She was looking tired but was awake again. Madame Pomfrey began sponging blood off of her wound so that she could examine it, muttering to herself all the while. Narcissa sat beside Harry. She quickly healed his minor cuts.

"Let me see your hand, Potter," she said serenely.

"Can't, I left it in the mall," said Harry. He was the only one to laugh. Everyone including the Dursleys was staring at the stump that had once been his hand. She examined it and sighed.

"Headmaster," spoke up Madame Pomfrey, one hand on Tonks' forehead. "She needs rest and some dreamless sleep. She should be up and about tomorrow." She turned to Narcissa. "How is Potter doing?"

"Not good," replied Narcissa glumly. "The entire wrist is gone as well. The blade cut through the bone cleanly. As far as I can tell, you should be dead. The Phoenix tears saved your life but as you can see they couldn't give you a new hand. My fields of expertise are Spell Damage and Magical Viruses. I can't do a lot with this. Any thoughts, Poppy?"

"None. Skele-Gro won't work."

"No. I can ask around at St. Bartholomew's. In fact I will go now." She rose and headed for the door. As she passed Dumbledore she lowered her voice, but Harry could still hear her. "But I would have him learn to write with his left if I were you." She sighed and departed.

"Come on Harry, you heard her. Up to bed. You need rest. You too Tonks." Begrudgingly, the two walking wounded climbed the stairs. Tonks went into the first door on the left, Harry's room was the room on the right on the top floor. It was essentially a converted attic but it was a large cosy room with a large window. Inside was a fireplace and a sloping ceiling with a skylight. The walls were painted in a light shade of cream, giving it a cosy yet relaxed feel, the floor was wooden, complete with a ornate rug from Tibet, or at least that is what Mundungus had told him, which implied that he got it for three Knuts from a jumble sale down the road. The veils around the bed were brilliant white and the curtains a deep shade of cream. His four-poster bed was against one wall with a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. He had a sink and mirror in one corner. Harry had moved into this room a few days ago. Remus had originally put him in a room on the middle floor, the one he had shared with Ron last year. Harry found that room to dark with only one tiny window and the extra bed made for a lack of space. Up here he had a fireplace to keep him warm, a large source of natural light and plenty of space, given that there were only two rooms on the floor: his and the attic store room. This was full of what could only be described as junk. Harry had been through some of it with Dobby. They found one of Kreacher's nests and many old photos and family heirlooms. Nothing of interest. In the end they decided to leave it. Harry was much happier in his new room. The height made it feel like Gryffindor tower, the isolation of being the only one on the floor was comforting and the space was invaluable. Katie had been impressed the first time she had laid eyes on it though she did not approve of having to climb even more stairs to reach it. Harry climbed the last few stairs and entered his room. He removed most of his clothes, with difficulty given that he only had one hand, and climbed into bed. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

~~~~ + ~~~~

Harry woke the next morning with his scar aching. His scar hadn't bothered him since July. His concentration and meditation, which he had to do in order to learn wandless magic, coupled with his Tae Kwon Do had helped his Occlumency enough so that his dreams were safe from Voldemort. Though, he still did not want to have Snape trying to enter his mind again. This was the first time it had hurt severely for nearly a month. Harry could feel it; Voldemort was happy. He had probably been told of Harry's new handicap. This tipped the scales even more in Voldemort's favour. Harry had less power, less knowledge of magic, less supporters, less skill, less duelling ability and now less hands. Harry didn't have a hope in hell.

"Good morning, Harry," came Dumbledore's voice. Harry opened his eyes. Dumbledore was sitting in an armchair in the corner. Arwen and Fawkes were perched on the dresser, their heads under their wings. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better."

"I can imagine. Harry I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that Nymphadora Tonks is perfectly OK and none of us are to be arrested. Word of Kingsley's mutiny as they are branding it, along with that of Miss Tonks and Alastor Moody, has spread like wildfire through the Auror ranks. Magical Law Enforcement officers are hearing of it.

"This may sound like a really stupid question but what is the difference between the Aurors and the magical Law Enforcement officers?" asked Harry. He had never really known. The two terms had been thrown about but he had never really understood the distinction.

"Magical Law Enforcement or MLE for short are your standard policemen if you like. If I give you the Muggle equivalent you will understand it better. They are called out all the time for robberies and minor crimes. They work with the various departments. Do you remember the regurgitation toilets that caused Arthur so much grief last year? The arrest was made by MLE, though he got off for making Professor Umbridge aware of your gathering. Aurors are more like the army. They are given specialist training to combat and fight off attacks. They are in charge of protecting the minister and for hunting Dark Wizards. Generally Aurors don't deal with crime. They are more a hunting force or an army if it is called for. They will take over high profile cases. Sirius and myself for example, but generally they stick to looking for Death Eaters. WE should see them taking over more cases soon, and their recruitment drive is in full swing. They need all the recruits that they can get. Anyway as I was saying, the news of Kingsley's defection has spread and others appear to be following. I have been approached by over a dozen Aurors and MLE officers. We now have a hotline straight to the Aurors and can call them out at any time without Cornelius's consent. The bad news is that neither Madame Pomfrey nor Professor Black can give you back your hand."

Panic swept across Harry like an icy wind. He had always expected Madame Pomfrey to be able to heal any injury. Whatever had happened to him, she had always put it right. Legends or bizarre and near fatal injuries were always being bantered around the common room, Harry had always taken her for granted. There had to be something that could work. How could he live without a hand, his wand hand as well?

"What about Skele-Gro?" asked Harry desperately.

"It is no good in this case. As Narcissa informs me, it only works when only the bones are gone, not the entire limb. There is no potion or spell that I have come across in all my years which can do this. I am afraid that we must now teach you to write with your left hand."

"Isn't there anything you can do?" whimpered Harry

"I'm afraid not."

Harry fell back on his pillow. What would life be like with one hand? He couldn't open bottles, ride a broom or anything. His Quidditch days were over. He could not duel as well with his left. His schoolwork would go downhill, he would be mocked everywhere he went. Harry could imagine Malfoy's face when he saw it. He was now a freak, like Captain Hook, like the Candyman, like Wormtail. WORMTAIL!

"Sir. What about Wormtail? You know, Peter Pettigrew."

"What about him, Harry?"

"He lost a hand and Voldemort gave him a new one, made of liquid silver - but he could still use it normally."

"Do you know how he did it, Harry?"

"No, silver just flowed out the end of this wand and formed a hand then it attached itself to his wrist."

"Interesting... I assume you would wish me to do the same if I could."

"Well, yes. Anything to give me back a hand I could use."

"If Voldemort used the spell it is probably Dark Magic. I have not looked into the deepest of the Dark Arts. There may be something in there that could help. I assumed that since Black magic mainly revolves around cruelty and revenge, there would be nothing helpful there. I may have been naïve."

"Narcissa should have books on Dark Magic, she might know. Living with Lucius all those years, she should have picked up the odd spell or two. Maybe Wormtail came up in conversation."

"I will of course research this matter for you. Now rest, if Madame Pomfrey caught us talking she would hex me from here to Hogwarts." Harry lay back down. Hope was restored to him. He knew Dumbledore would succeed. In a few hours he would have a new hand. So what if it was silver. He could still use it normally, and if he hit Malfoy with it, he would give him more than a broken nose. The git would end up in the hospital wing for week. He then remembered the promise he made to Narcissa. Still, the hand could be a valuable weapon. Something that Voldemort didn't know about. Nurturing this comforting thought, Harry dozed off.

Dobby brought him breakfast at ten. After eating his egg and bacon sandwich, Harry felt strong enough to get up. He staggered to the door and reached for it with his right arm, then paused, and twisted the handle awkwardly with his left. He turned left and descended the first set of stairs. He turned left again and headed towards the bathroom at the end of the hall.

"Where do you think you are going?" asked a voice.

"I am going to have a shower, Madame Pomfrey," replied Harry calmly.

"Very well, but straight back to be afterwards. You need rest."

"What I need is something to occupy me."

"What you need is a slap around the head," said Snape climbing the stairs.

"Lovely to see you too, Professor."

"Potter, how the hell did you get into my Potions class? I have just been given the register," growled Snape, clearly displeased.

"I'd love to know too, sir. It certainly wasn't your teaching!" said Harry. He was amused to see Snape's eyes narrow. He could tell he was getting to him, but Harry hadn't started the banter, Snape had swung first as it were. They were in Harry's house so Snape couldn't object. Harry might receive a detention once they were back at school but why should Harry deny himself the pleasure of taunting Snape when he had the upper hand. Snape did in every Potions lesson. "Looks like we will be together for another two years."

"Not if you put a toe out of line. I don't know how you did it, but if you so much as look at me in a way that displeases me, you will be out, understand?" He didn't wait for reply, he just carried on. "Now, how did you make the Alegradia? You didn't have access to the ingredients. It takes a month and you have no means to cook it. I can't imagine your Uncle letting you use the stove."

"I didn't make it."

"You have a license for magic outside school. I can't punish you for it but I would like to know, how did you do it and why. Alegradia was not set for homework, you don't even have any over these holidays."

"I honestly didn't make it."

"Then how did you get it?"

"My Aunt gave it to me, at the mall."

"And how did she get it?"

"Beats me."

"I love to, but that wouldn't help me. How did she get it?"

"I don't know. Ask her."

"I will, she is downstairs."

"Excellent, I will be down as soon as I have had a shower."

"You will not, Mr. Potter," interrupted Madame Pomfrey. "I have told you, you need rest. Do I really have to lock the door?"

"Okay, okay, I'll have shower and then return to bed. Happy?" She nodded and Harry headed to the bathroom. The nurse eyed him beadily all the way, making absolutely sure that he didn't "take a wrong turn". He showered and shaved before returning to his room, escorted by Madame Pomfrey. 'Doesn't that woman have anything better to do than annoy me' thought Harry. He changed and then petted Arwen before slumping onto his bed and taking out his birthday book on Aurors.

Dumbledore had been right, there were accounts of Aurors assaulting Death Eater strongholds and destroying half the house. They really were an Army when they needed to be. Their jobs covered combat, escort, close protection, investigation, undercover intelligence gathering and apprehension of dark Wizards.

'Cool,' thought Harry. 'This is definitely what I want to do.' The more he read on the more he wanted to be an Auror. He could imagine himself in red, crashing through the window, blocking curses effortlessly, stunning Death Eaters left, right and centre, even though they outnumbered him ten to one. 'Wow,' thought Harry.

Harry looked up at the clock, it read half past six. Harry had been reading for hours. He closed the book and called for Dobby. He ordered some sandwiches and a pot of tea.

Not wanting to exhaust the Auror book too quickly, Harry continued with his book on Phoenixes. He had discovered that Arwen was not red because she was a different breed to Fawkes. Where as Fawkes' species originally came from the Volcanic Mountain Islands in the South Pacific, Arwen came from the Ice Plains of Antarctica. The blue was a sort of camouflage. It also explained why she ate fish and not the rodents that Fawkes was supposed to eat. As with all species, she would burst into flame and regenerate from the ashes. The calling was common to all species. She was smaller than Fawkes but apparently faster. The snowy mountains around Hogwarts would be like home to her. There was a third type of Phoenix, a green one from the Amazon rain forest. They are almost extinct due to man. They are larger than their red counterparts and more aggressive. They tended not to adopt a human companions.

Dumbledore returned at seven that evening. Harry was still reading his book on Phoenixes when he came in.

"Ah, Phoenixes, wonderful are they not? I have known Fawkes for ninety years and he still never fails to amaze me. Have you named her yet?"

"Arwen."

"After the Elf maiden who gave up immortality and freedom to be with the man who was the only hope for the world of men, an interesting choice."

"It sort of felt right."

"Yes, well, the Phoenix has the final say in their name. If she didn't like it, you would know. Here, Harry, the reason for my visit. Look at this, is this the spell he used?" He offered Harry a book. It was small and bound in black leather, bearing a golden crest of a dragon. Harry took the book in his left hand. The picture moved like a film, it showed a shiny liquid coming from the end of a wand. It morphed into a long scaly arm with large sharp claws on the end. It floated over to large eagle-like bird and attached itself to the bird's torso.

"Yes sir, that looks like it," said Harry excitedly.

"As I feared the spell is a dark art. It was used to give extra limbs to animals. Birds with arms as well as wings. Dragons with extra spikes and claws. These experiments were then set on innocent people. The spell was most popular in the Far East during the mid fifteenth century."

"That's barbaric!" said Harry, appalled at what people had done.

"This spell is a Dark Art even though it can have such a harmless use as giving a pet the chance to walk again, or you a new hand. It is meant for animal limbs but as Tom has proven, it works for humans as well. According to this, you would have complete movement in the hand again, but would not be able to feel with it. The material will be controlled by your thoughts; you can change its shape at will, though I would recommend you leave it as a hand. If I were you I would keep it secret. Are you sure you want this, Harry? It could go very wrong. Once you start meddling with the Dark Arts, things can go very wrong very quickly and before you know it, you could end up like Tom Riddle." Harry didn't care about all that. He was smart enough to tell good from evil. He would never become anything like Tom Riddle.

"If it could give me back a hand, then I am willing to risk it," said Harry defiantly. Dumbledore sighed. Harry thought that he might have seen disappointment in his mentor's eyes for a fraction of a second.

"So be it," said Dumbledore. "You must first choose which material you want. Silver is unadvisable as it would be dangerous to Remus. You cannot have flesh. According to this, the easiest to use are wood, silver, gold, and the crystals, such as ruby, sapphire, emerald, and diamond."

Harry thought for a moment. Wood would be too easy to break and how does one change the shape of wood? Splinters would also be a problem as would fire. Gold, possible, though likely to attract attention and Gringotts Goblins would not react well to it. That left the four crystals. Diamond is very hard, very shiny, that would be quite nice though you would see through it and see the end of his real arm. Ruby, red was not his colour. It was Gryffindor colours but it never looked to good on him, not to mention it reminded him of the Philosopher's stone. Sapphire, well blue was a nice colour, it matched Arwen and sapphires are hard to damage and that left Emerald. Green, they matched his eyes yet they were Slytherin colours. There was only one choice.

"Sapphire, please sir" he said.

"Any reason for your choice?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well it would match Arwen and it is a very hard gem and, well, there are reasons against all the others. Wood will snap, Diamond can be seen through, and the others remind me of things I'd rather not be associated with."

"Emerald for Slytherin?"

"Yes. I know we are supposed to unite as one and all that but let's just say that Slytherins and especially his heir have a tendency to want me dead, that doesn't lend itself to trust."

"Ruby?"

"Philosopher's Stone,"

"Ah yes, well it seems that you have thought this through. Hold out your arm."

He did while Dumbledore raised his wand. He read the incantation from the book. Blue liquid oozed out of his wand. It formed a right hand and glowed a brilliant shade of blue. It slowly floated over to Harry and attached itself to his wrist. Harry shuddered as the cold gem touched his flesh. The light faded and he was left with a smooth blue hand. His wrist stopped tingling. He reached out and touched it with his left. It felt cold, yet smooth. It looked beautiful, a perfect replica except for that fact that it was shiny and blue. It shone in the light, glittering like the lake at Hogwarts. Harry moved each of the fingers in turn. It felt like he was moving his real hand. He picked up a glass, he felt nothing of the glass but he could see that he was holding it.

CRACK!

Harry had squeezed too hard and the glass had shattered.

"You will have to practise that, Harry. You can no longer feel with it so you don't know when you have applied enough pressure. You could end up hurting someone."

"I will, sir. It's beautiful, thank you so much." He paused, realising how similar his words had been to Wormtail's a year or so earlier.

"You are welcome Harry," smiled Dumbledore, he looked relieved yet there was a trace of something else in his eyes. "Here, I would advise these," he passed Harry a pair of black leather gloves. Harry slipped them on. They fitted perfectly. No one would be able to tell that he had ever lost a hand. He took out his wand, repaired the glass and filled it with water from his wand. Molly Weasley could do cream, custard, gravy and just about anything, Harry could only do water. He picked up the glass carefully and took a sip. He felt the cool liquid trickle down his throat. He had managed not to break the glass. 'That's a start,' thought Harry.

"What is happening to my Aunt and Uncle?" asked Harry presently. "They're not safe out there, are they?"

"No, they are not," sighed Dumbledore. "It seems that Voldemort is willing to come at you through them. We have decided therefore to relocate them."

"To what?"

"To relocate them. You have heard of Witness Protection, have you not?"

"Yes but they'll never agree to let you set them up."

"They were reluctant at first - especially your Uncle, but when we offered to let him go anywhere and granted him one million pounds worth of money to go with their new identities, his greed would not allow him to refuse. He insisted that none of us would bother them again, but for obvious reasons, someone will be watching them at all times."

"Where are they going?" asked Harry

"They chose Orlando, Florida"

"If they are in America, where do I stay next summer?"

"You are already of age Harry, in practice if not by law. You have your own home together with Remus. You are allowed to use magic outside school. Where you go is up to you, though I pray you let me know before you go. As I have said before, you are responsible for your own actions."

"Where are they now?"

"Downstairs," replied the Headmaster. "Here, I thought this might amuse you." He handed Harry two newspaper clippings. The first was from a Muggle Newspaper, the Times.

GUNFIGHT AT MALL LEAVES FAMILY DEAD!

Panic gripped the Crown Hill Shopping Centre yesterday afternoon when violence erupted between two rival gangs. The gunfight didn't claim the lives of any members of either gang but left three dead. Vernon Dursley of Little Whinging, Surrey, was shot dead during the exchange of gunfire along with his wife Petunia and his 16-year-old son Dudley. "No suspects have been detained," said a government spokesperson. The only clue to the gang's identity was a symbol burned into the wall: a skull with a snake for a tongue.

The other clipping was from the Daily Prophet, it read,

THE LAST OF HARRY POTTER'S FAMILY KILLED IN DEATH EATER ATTACK!

We all know Harry Potter's tragic tale of woe. How he lost his parents at the age of one. However the Dark Lord, recently returned, does not think that this loss was sufficient for the boy-who-lived. Harry Potter was raised by his mother's sister, a Muggle who lived in Surrey with her husband and son. Sadly these Muggles were killed yesterday during a Death Eater attack at the Crown Hill Shopping Centre, near Surrey. It is understood that four Death Eaters were detained including Walden Macnair, former Ministry employee and Antonin Dolohov recently escaped from prison after his apprehension at the Ministry last July. The Daily Prophet has received unconfirmed reports that Harry Potter himself was involved in the incident at Crown Hill along with Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin. Both the Ministry of Magic and Albus Dumbledore have so far been unavailable for comment both on the incident and Harry Potter's future, though it is rumoured that the Boy-Who-Lived has been granted a licence to perform Underage Magic and is staying with Werewolf Remus Lupin until his return to Hogwarts next month.

"So sad," grinned Harry, "when is the funeral?"

"Next week, I wouldn't bother to go if I were you; I can send someone along with Polyjuice Potion. Harry, get some rest. I will see you at Hogwarts in a week. On a related note, the Dursleys will not be able to take up residence at their new home for three weeks, while we sweep for local Wizards, erect wards and move agents in. Consequently they will stay with you for the remainder of their stay in England."

"Three weeks, but that means..."

"Yes Harry, the Dursleys are coming to Hogwarts!"