The War for Souls

Chapter 7--The Ambrosius of Wales

As soon as the words were out of Remus' mouth, the usual amused expression faded from Dumbledore's face, replaced with a grim mask of deadly gravity. "Are you certain?"

"I wouldn't have called if I weren't," said Remus, slightly offended. "The tapestry was hidden away in Sirius' rooms at Grimmauld Place. I have no idea where he might have gotten it from."

"If this is genuine," said Dumbledore, concern in his voice, "Sirius could only have gotten it from Godric's Hollow itself, or somewhere that James deposited it when he went into hiding."

"Maybe Glastonbury," suggested Bill. "They could at least--"

"No," said Dumbledore. "I would not involve the Brothers if I can avoid it. I will examine it myself. For the moment, though, do not speak of it outside this room." He turned to leave, the tapestry in his hands.

"Wait!" said Harry. "Could you explain this a little more?"

"Ah," said the headmaster, stopping and sitting down in a hastily conjured chair. "I forget sometimes, Harry, that you grew up with no knowledge of our world. You should make yourselves comfortable," he added to the assembled Weasleys. With a wave of his wand, several more chairs appeared and the walls seemed to move apart to make room for them.

"What do you know about the Ambrosii, Harry?"

"Only that they're the heirs of the founders, and that they ruled Britain before the Ministry was started."

"That, I believe, is the unfortunate limit of the knowledge many in these times have regarding the topic." Hermione looked hurt. "Yes, Miss Granger, even you. You are not to blame; however, it is not a topic that would regularly come up. Pay attention, though. You will likely never hear this information in any History of Magic class." That got her attention, and she began rummaging for a quill.

"Hermione," said Ron chidingly. "You don't have to take notes." She blushed and settled into the couch to listen.

"Magic, you see," Dumbledore began, "is part of the world in which we live. As long as one has existed, so has the other. Magical society, on the other hand, is relatively young. It was only about three thousand years ago that the first organization of witches and wizards into a cohesive society took place, on the Isle of Atlantis."

"That really existed?" exclaimed Hermione.

"Of course it did," said Luna. "Muggles just don't believe in anything."

"Quite true, Miss Lovegood. As I was saying, it was in the seven kingdoms of Atlantis that magic first formed itself into culture. However, after nearly fifteen hundred years, the magic of Atlantis, lacking the infusion of new blood into their closed community, had grown stale. The situation was not unlike the rigid pure-blooded families of today. Squibs were more commonly born than wizards, and the society faced extinction. The end of Atlantis came about a hundred years before the time of Merlin, in the form of the first documented struggle between light and dark magic." Dumbledore paused and looked at his audience. They were staring at him with rapt attention, and even Fred and George were still and silent.

Wow, thought Harry, if Binns were this interesting, I might actually enjoy History class.

"The magic released in that war was either so strong or so wild that it disturbed the very foundations of the earth. The sea rose up and swallowed the island whole, with nearly all its inhabitants. Nine ships escaped, under one of the seven kings, a wizard named Avallach. They landed, with some difficulty, on the western coast of Britain, and founded the Tor of Avallon, which Muggles know as Glastonbury. Avallach became known as the Fisher King, and for a while the Atlanteans cut themselves off from the Britons of the day. However, by chance or by fate, the daughter of the Fisher King met and fell in love with a Druid and bard by the name of Taliesin."

"I've heard of him," said Ron. "He was Merlin's father, wasn't he?"

"Indeed he was," said Dumbledore. "Merlin was the offspring of the order and refinement of Atlantis and Avallon, and the raw power of the Celtic Druids. Muggles remember him as the companion of Arthur Pendragon, but he was also the creator of a magical society in Britain which endures to this day."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Patience, Harry. I am coming to that. Merlin was known as Ambrosius, a term meaning immortal. The blood of Atlantis in his veins gave him a lifespan of nearly three centuries. During that time, his accomplishments were many, of course, but none as noble or great as the brief creation of the so-called 'Summer Kingdom.' It was the high-point of magical-Muggle relations, when wizards walked openly among Muggles, and magic was the servant of all, not the privilege of a few. Merlin knew, however, that this Utopia could not last. Indeed, it did not survive Arthur's death. However, he sought to bring the same type of order to the magical world which began to seal itself off after the fall of Camelot.

In his long life, Merlin had fathered four children, half-siblings to each other. It was to these four that he entrusted the four kingdoms of the Druids before he died. England he gave to his eldest son, a shrewd diplomat and politician, but also a man wary and suspicious of Muggles. His eldest daughter was a woman of sharp wit and a thirst for learning that surpassed even her father's. Red hair was a trademark of her line, inherited from her Irish mother, and to Ireland she was sent. His younger daughter was devoted to him, loyal and patient to the end, and her father's companion to the day he died. She was left to rule Scotland. But his favorite child was his youngest son, an impetuous, headstrong young man, honorable to a fault, violent but utterly committed to the ideals of his father's brief triumph. To this youngest, Merlin left his beloved homeland--Wales."

"Were they the founders?" asked Ron.

"No, not quite. Merlin died in around the Muggle Year 700. It was another three centuries before Hogwarts was founded. However, these four lines produced the four founders of the school. Salazar Slytherin was the great-grandson of Merlin's eldest son. Godric Gryffindor was the grandson of his youngest. Rowena Ravenclaw, as you might have expected, was the great-granddaughter of that first Rowena, and Helga Hufflepuff was of the Scottish line."

"So they founded Hogwarts together because they were the rulers of society?" asked Hermione. Dumbledore nodded. "Wow. That's something Professor Binns never taught us."

"As I said when I began, you will not learn this in History of Magic. There is one final wrinkle to this tale, however. Merlin's devotion to the ideals of the Summer Kingdom were so great that he was willing to make almost any sacrifice to see it through. Before he died, Merlin channeled all his power into enchantments cast by his grandfather, the ancient Fisher King of Avallon--enchantments which bound the lines of his four children to ensure that, no matter what, the line would perpetuate itself."

"So..."

"So," said Remus, "you're the heir of Gryffindor. You're the ruler of Wales."

"But the Ambrosii haven't had power for five hundred years, right Professor?" asked Hermione.

"Yes and no," he said. "It is true that the Ministry governs the society, but according to its own charter, it does so at the pleasure of the Council, which is the tool of the Ambrosii."

"So Harry can abolish the Ministry?" asked Neville.

"I wish you would all calm down," said Mr. Weasley. "Nothing of the sort is happening...yet, at least."

"Thank you, Arthur," said Dumbledore. "Here we begin to tread on risky ground. I am not holding out on you now, Harry. I must seek the advice of a friend--or friends--better versed in these matters than I am. And the first task at hand is to ensure that this tapestry is both genuine and correct. Would you allow me to seek out such a person and bring more information to you tomorrow?"

"Of course," said Harry. Good, a break. Let me process all this information. I'm not Hermione, you know.

"Then I will see you tomorrow. Arthur, Molly, boys, I suggest you let them get their sleep tonight. It has been a taxing couple of days for all of them." He Flooed away, and was quickly followed by the elder Weasleys.

"Bed," said Harry. "Too much to think about, we'll talk about it tomorrow." He was looking straight at Hermione, who seemed to be building up a head of steam, and who he imagined could have talked straight into tomorrow about these new revelations.

"Oh," she said, deflating. "I suppose. We'll all be able to think better on a good sleep, anyway."

*****

There were three wizards in Britain who qualified as experts on the genealogy of the Ambrosii, and two of them were people Dumbledore was loath to share the information Sirius had found with. The first was the Abbot of Glastonbury, Father David Pugh. Publicly, he maintained, like all his predecessors, an ascetic neutrality in the political skirmishes of his time, and an air of timeless superiority born of holding the oldest extant office in magical Britain. However, Dumbledore suspected the good Abbot of being, at the very least, a dupe of the Malfoys--and certainly he was frighteningly dependant on their Galleons.

The second expert was the curator of the Irish Museum of Magic in Kildare. His name was Patrick Delahanty, and he had taken the Dark Mark soon after Voldemort's first rise to power. Dumbledore wasn't certain if he had returned to the Dark Lord's service, but he wasn't about to risk exposing information like this to a man who might take it straight to Voldemort.

The third expert lived in an austere flat in London's Stepney neighborhood. He had a long career of teaching and advising behind him, and had himself been a mentor to the Hogwarts Headmaster. He was, thus, the only man to whom Albus Dumbledore would entrust the secret of the tapestry.

Siva Sambangi was his name, and he looked the part of a Telagu elder. He had a few long white hairs curling up from his almost bald head, and the sepia skin of his face was lined with the cares of well more than a century of life. He had lively black eyes behind thin-rimmed spectacles perched on a narrow nose, and a saffron robe fell loosely from his bony shoulders. It was to his flat that his old student came directly after leaving Padfoot's.

"Namaste," said the headmaster, bowing to Sambangi in greeting.

"Namaste, my friend. What brings you to me today?"

"I have this tapestry," he said, holding the roll out to the Indian. "I need to know everything there is to know about it, and the line it traces."

Sambangi took the tapestry from Dumbledore and unrolled it. With a long, gnarled finger he traced the golden thread up the cloth from Harry's name all the way to Gryffindor. "Is it genuine?" asked Dumbledore.

"The spell work is authentic," said the guru. "And the genealogy is correct. The Poethr line was one of the oldest recognized lines descended from Godric. Was there a crest with this?"

"Here." The headmaster handed him the parchment with Sirius' note on the back.

"You might have spoken to Father David at the Tor," said Sambangi.

"No," said Dumbledore. "I have greater confidence coming here. What is the lore behind this line?"

"The Poethr line is descended from the second of Godric's sons. The enchantments of the Fisher King have kept it strong, indeed, they are stronger in this line than they proved to be in the line of Rhys ap Godric, the House Reese that was exterminated in the wars of Edward I in the thirteenth century. The first Ambrosius of the Poethr line was Owyn ap Dafydd Poethr. The line was strongest shortly thereafter, under his grandson. There was a struggle for supremacy, and the English attempted to stamp out the Welsh. The four kingdoms were saved by the Ambrosius of Wales, of the Poethr line."

"Is the modern House Potter the same?"

"If they are Welsh, it is certain."

Dumbledore bowed his head. "Siva, I fear that before long, the four kingdoms will become a matter of reality more than one of history."

"There is more you should know," said Sambangi. "There is an old piece of lore, of uncertain origin. It says that no Ambrosius can be defeated by another, unless three join together to defeat the one. Those at the Tor believe this is a part of the Fisher Kings' enchantments. Others think it was a tale started when the English was driven from Hogwarts."

"And you say?"

"Albus, it would be unwise to disregard what your enemy puts faith in. And who can say? The magic of Avallon is certainly beyond the understanding of our age. The English does believe it to be true. And if it is, can you, or any of our time, overcome the work of the Fisher King?"

Dumbledore's spirits fell even further. He hadn't said as much clearly, but it was obvious that the guru did believe the lore to tell of the work of Avallach. "You know of the struggle Mr. Potter faces, then."

"There are two others, Albus. The magic of Avallon is as strong now as at the death of Merlin. We know of the English. Today, the Welsh has been found. Be assured that your enemy will seek what is not now known."

"Thank you, Siva. If they come to you..."

"They will not. They have the Tor at their disposal. But I understand." The old man extended his hands. "Peace, old friend. What should be, shall be."

*****

It was the last night of July, and Severus Snape was hurrying as fast as his weary legs would carry him along the moonlit sidewalk of Grimmauld Place. He had been summoned by both his masters in one day, and the fatigue of his chosen path was showing on his sallow face. Kingsley Shacklebolt admitted him to the house, where he found a meeting already in progress. Unlike a month previous, tonight the kitchen was jammed with nearly every member the Order of the Phoenix had. Severus took a quick stock, and noticed that only the werewolf was missing--for obvious reasons--from the table. All the conversation ceased as he swept into the room. "Severus." Dumbledore's single word was no greeting, but a summons for a report on the Dark Lord's plans.

"The Dark Lord has spent much of the last month recovering from the attack at the Ministry. He was badly injured in his attempt to possess Potter. Other than the attack on Potter's relatives, he has been inactive since that day. He is nearly back to health, however, and I fear his sabbatical is coming to an end.

Last night, three murders were carried out on his orders. One of them was a ninety-six year old Muggle in York. I believe she was targeted because she had been a matron at the orphanage where he grew up. Two of them were wizards, both Brothers of Glastonbury. The motive behind their killings was not clear, however, Lucius Malfoy was the executioner.

In addition, the Dark Lord has summoned Patrick Delahanty, and has begun to research the magic of Avallon. Just why he is doing this now was not clear to me."

"He knows," said Arthur Weasley.

"It seems that way," said Dumbledore. "Or he suspects, at least. Severus, we discovered yesterday that Harry is the Ambrosius of Wales, the heir of Godric Gryffindor."

"Yet another excuse to coddle the boy, I suppose," said Severus. "Already his scores have been delayed because Minerva is desperate to find better marks in his papers than the fool produced."

"I do not ask that you coddle him, Severus. I ask that you see him as Harry, not James, and treat him fairly for his abilities, which, I daresay, are more than you credit him with."

Before Severus could retort, Mad-Eye cut in. "Ironic that you and Black hated each other, and yet you both made the same mistake with regard to Potter. He's not his father."

Severus opened his mouth to snap at the ex-Auror, but Dumbledore held up a hand. "This is not productive. We have more important considerations at hand. Severus, please keep an eye on Delahanty, and see if they have any documents already which connect the lines to Harry." He nodded wearily. "Are you in need of Poppy?"

"No, Headmaster. I have more information, however. The imbecile who occupies the Ministry has arranged to 'negotiate' with the Dark Lord. He seems to believe that the Dark Lord can be placated through diplomacy, and that discourse, rather than defense, is the solution to this conflict. I would be extremely cautious with Fudge afterward, especially given that the Dark Lord has tapped Douglas Mulciber as his emissary." There were a few appreciative groans, but mostly blank stares from the assembled members.

"Mulciber is a specialist in Imperius," said Moody. "Probably three or four wizards in Britain who could begin to fight his curse, and none of them is Cornelius Fudge."

"Mulciber is also an imbecile," said Severus. "His brainpower is that of a flobberworm and he has the diplomatic ability of a troll. The only reason to involve him is to put the Imperius on Fudge."

"Albus, is there any chance left--"

"It will take Amelia a few days. We have to prepare for a difficult period at the Ministry...again."

*****

The morning after Harry's birthday, Dumbledore paid another visit to Padfoot's to share the events of the evening before with the students. News of Fudge's impending meeting with Mulciber was greeted with suitable horror, and there was a general sense of resignation when they learned that Voldemort had taken a sudden interest in the Ambrosii. "I do have a request to make of you, however." Everyone's head turned at those words.

"I have consulted with a friend whom I trust implicitly in this matter. It is his firm belief that the defeat of one Ambrosius requires the concerted action of the other three, and that this is a part of the enchantments laid upon the descendants of Merlin by the Fisher King. I have therefore had recourse to a rather imprecise branch of magic to attempt to find the others."

"You consulted a Seer?" asked Ron incredulously.

"Close, Mr. Weasley. No, I attempted to discover the whereabouts of the other two Ambrosii by the art of scrying--using a crystal ball and specific spells to locate a person or a place. However, I am afraid that the spells provided me by my friend were imprecise, or that my own use of the spell was somewhat imperfect, for the information I obtained was sadly limited."

"It's better than nothing," said Harry.

"Indeed it is. I was able to determine one thing, which, when added to what we already know, may give our intrepid logician," he smiled broadly at Hermione, "enough information to piece together a solution. I have learned that the Ambrosius of Scotland is a student or a teacher at Hogwarts, as the scrying spell revealed that to me as the location they consider home. You will find extensive genealogical materials in the library downstairs. As you must remain here for some time, it would do our cause a great service if you could discern his identity."

"That's not the only reason you're here," said Luna.

"Would that it was," replied Dumbledore. "No, I have also come to collect Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom. I am afraid the Wizengamot requires your services again."

The mention of the Wizengamot triggered Harry's memory. "Have you heard from Madam Bones yet?"

"Not yet. That is one thing I hope to take up with the full court today, if I can get a judicial session called." Harry nodded gratefully. "Believe me, Harry, none but the worst interests are served by keeping Sirius' name sullied."

"So you want us to work on finding the Ambrosius while Ron and Neville are at the Ministry?" asked Ginny.

"That would be the best option for everyone, I believe." He shooed Ron and Neville upstairs to change into dress robes, and waited in silence for them to return. "One more piece of information I would like to share. Your O.W.L. results are nearly ready, and should be arriving within a few days. Let me say that you all have done admirably from what I can determine." With that, he disappeared through the Floo to the Ministry, and Hermione began to pace nervously.

"What if they're horrible? What if I failed everything?".

It took Harry, Luna, and Ginny working together for the better part of fifteen minutes to convince Hermione that her O.W.L. scores really were all she expected them to be, and to restore her eagerness not only to receive her reports, but also to dig in to the treasury of wizarding genealogy which apparently lay buried in the basement.

Hermione located copies of Nature's Nobility and The Table of Wizarding Surnames almost immediately, and began comparing them. "Well, we can start by eliminating everyone who's full-Muggle, so I'm out, along with half of the rest of the school."

"Start with pure-blood families. It's a safe bet," said Ginny.

"Okay. How about the three represented here to begin with. Ginny?"

"Dad's father was...oh...no, never mind that, Dad's the youngest. It would be Uncle Edward, and he's got five kids of his own. Besides, if we were the right family, Bill would be the heir, not Ron or me, and he's not at Hogwarts."

"Oh, right. Okay, what about Neville?"

"If the Ambrosius himself is at Hogwarts, he's an orphan." Luna's dreamy voice rose from the corner. "Otherwise, his parent would be the Ambrosius, not him."

"Who says it's a he?" said Harry thoughtfully. "And Luna's right. If my dad hadn't been killed, he'd be the Ambrosius, not me."

"So who do we know at Hogwarts who's an orphan?"

"I don't suppose Neville counts as one, he should though," said Luna. "It's terrible what they did to those poor people. As though they could've revealed the secrets anyway."

"I agree it's terrible," said Hermione, "but what secrets?"

"Well, if I told you, they wouldn't be secrets, now would they?"

"Oh...um...okay." Ginny suppressed a giggle, and Harry gave a surprised look.

"Hey," he said. "Do you think we should try Hufflepuffs first, since it's the heir of Hufflepuff we're looking for?"

"Good idea," said Ginny. "Except I barely know any Hufflepuffs."

"I think I can remember all the ones in our year," said Hermione. "Justin, Hannah, Ernie, Susan Bones, of course--"

"Susan! That's it!" Harry slammed a book down on the shelf next to him.

"What?" said the others at once.

"Susan Bones is pure-blood--her Aunt is Amelia Bones, head of MLE at the Ministry. And her parents were killed by Voldemort in the first war--I saw them in that stupid photo Moody was passing around at Sirius' last summer."

"That's a start," said Hermione. "Let Remus know."

"Okay," he said, and ran up the stairs two at a time.

"So, which one first?" said a voice behind him.

"Huh? Oh, Ginny, you scared the snot out of me."

"Sorry. I have an idea, before you call Remus, come here." She drew him into a corner of the sitting room and began to explain a plot. Ten minutes later, Harry was grinning from ear to ear as he called Remus on the fireplace.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Mind popping in for bit? We have some info, and Ginny and I had an idea."

"Sure." A few seconds later, Harry's guardian stood in the sitting room, dusting soot off his robes.

Harry divulged their idea about Susan Bones, and then began on Ginny's plot. "Well, you see, we'd like you to be our field agent, in the spirit of the Marauders and all."

"Oh, dear."

"Well, okay, we think two things are on the cusp of happening here. Neville and Luna are sort of, well, getting along..."

"They fancy each other."

"Right," said Ginny.

"And..." said Remus.

"And so do Ron and Hermione, but..." continued Harry.

"But neither couple will come clean about it," said Ginny. "They're too scared."

"So..." said Harry.

"We're taking bets on who snogs first. Odds on Neville and Luna are 3-1, on Ron and Hermione 5-1."

"I figure," said Harry, "Luna cares so little for public opinion anyway, she's got a better chance of getting over the jitters."

"I see, and you want me to publicize this?"

"Just to the Order. I'm sure Fred and George and Dung would want in."

"And Tonks," added Ginny.

"And myself," said Remus. "Worthy of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs indeed." Harry smiled. "Well, how about five Sickles on Ron and Hermione, they've been at it longer."

"Alright," said Ginny, taking the coins.

"So," said Remus. "Why aren't we betting on you two?"

"Well that wouldn't be fair," said Harry. "We could adversely affect the outcome for our own benefit." Remus laughed heartily at this, but Ginny blushed slightly

"Well, Harry, I'd better be going back to Headquarters, but thanks for the info on Bones. I'll run it past Moody and Dumbledore, and I should be back tonight with some charts for you to keep going with. And, Ginny, you remind me more of Lily all the time. Are you sure you're not related?"

Ginny blushed even harder at the comparison to Harry's mother, and Harry looked at her admiringly. "Coming from Remus, that was about the best compliment I can imagine," he said.

*****

It had been a long, hard day in the Wizengamot. Actually, for Arthur Weasley, it had been a long, hard month in the Wizengamot, and things didn't seem to be looking up any time soon. Giles Macmillan and Rose Brown had both spent most of the day on their feet in the Court of the Sorcerers, preventing a vote on the No Confidence measure until Dumbledore could align all his support. In Courtroom Ten, David Lacklin had been on his feet all day, filibustering for the opposite viewpoint, and effectively preventing Sirius from being cleared. None of that, however, compared to the news Moody had given him at the end of the day. The old Auror had clunked his way into the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office just as Arthur was preparing to Apparate back to The Burrow, to inform him that the Order was being forced to find other accommodations. "Grimmauld Place will be the property of Narcissa Malfoy on the morning of the third."

"What? I thought we'd worked the lines so Tonks would inherit."

"No such luck. Fudge," he spat the name, "has decided to use the hag's will to determine, and she said none of her children or relatives who married outside a certain list of families could inherit. Malfoy, of course, is on the list. Tonks isn't."

"Blast. Do we have a place to move everything?"

"Oh, yes. To Morag Castle, tomorrow." Arthur's spirits dropped. Morag was an ancient home of the Blacks, somewhere on the western coast of Scotland. It didn't have nearly the protections Grimmauld Place had, and from what Sirius had told him over the previous year; it hadn't been lived in for far longer.

"Morag? Is that...well...safe?"

"Oh, perfectly. No one should know it's been reoccupied. Be a perfect hideout for a group you don't want either side to discover, eh?"

"I suppose. And what am I going to tell Molly about all this?"

"I suppose you'd better shut up shop back in Devon now. Move everyone up to Argyllshire. Although, it's just you and Molly there, really, since the others are at Padfoot's."

"I suppose," said Arthur, feeling rather defeated. "And I take it this means that we have a long couple of days ahead of us."

"Good hard work," said Moody. "Builds character." As the grizzled veteran turned and stumped away, Arthur was left to wonder whether the last comment was a reflection of how Moody honestly felt, or a rather flat attempt at humor.

*****

Ron and Neville were exhausted, yet again, when they returned from the Ministry. Both of them seemed to feel that the entire day had been wasted listening to pointless speeches from Ernie Macmillan's father and Lavender Brown's mother. Sirius hadn't been cleared, they hadn't replaced Fudge, and they had been forced to listen to more cruel slander of their friend than Dolores Umbridge had ever managed. However, as Harry watched Hermione and Luna, respectively, fill the two absentees in on their search, and its possible result, he could see that Ginny had been quite right in her assessment from earlier that day.

The bets were already coming in quickly. Fred and George put a few Galleons on their baby brother. Mundungus was quick to toss in some Sickles on the underdogs, reasoning that the twins knew best on that level. Tonks put a Galleon on Neville and Luna, saying trolls would fly before Ron got over himself enough to snog Hermione. Bill and Charlie chipped in a fair bet between them, agreeing with Tonks that Ron was far too thick to beat the forthright Luna in a race to admit their feelings. Even Moody ponied up a few Galleons, but characteristically hedged his best by placing some on each contender. For a few moments after his friends returned, Harry believed it quite possible that the latest string of disasters that had commenced with the attack on Privet Drive could be coming to an end. That was before Remus appeared, looking as tired as if the full moon were that night instead of two nights previous. "So, any winner yet?" he asked, looking at the two pseudo-couples talking quietly.

"No," said Harry. "Maybe we should borrow Moody, though. Nev and Luna seem to spend a fair amount of their time in the woods."

"Well," said the werewolf. "I just thought I'd share some more bad news."

"Oh, Merlin," said Ginny. "What now?"

"We lost Grimmauld Place. As of Saturday morning, it belongs to Narcissa Malfoy."

"Where is the Order moving? Hogwarts?"

"No such luck. We're going to one of Sirius' other places, which I doubt Malfoy even remembers exists. Morag Castle."

Neville's head whipped around at the name. "Where?"

"Morag Castle," said Remus. "You know it."

"Yeah," said Neville. "It's got some bad tales attached to it. Like the Shrieking Shack back in Hogsmeade, only they say it's...well...I wouldn't go there."

"Well," said Remus. "It has been abandoned for two hundred years, and before that it was the fortress-home of a family notorious for producing dark wizards, so..."

"Be careful, Remus," said Harry. "I can't lose another father." Remus opened his mouth, but no words seemed to come out. A single tear leaked from his eye, and fell onto his shabby robes. Wordlessly, Harry stood and engulfed him in a hug. "Be careful," he repeated. Harry pulled away from his surrogate father, and watched with moist eyes as he Flooed away.

"How bad is this place, Neville?" asked Hermione after Remus was gone.

"It'd scare the pants off me, that's for sure." Six months ago, Harry might not have taken that as a serious threat. Now, however, he wondered occasionally if he had the internal bravery Neville displayed.

"Merlin help us," said Harry. "What a nightmare."