The Soldier's Time

It was a dark night. Clouds hung thick over Privet Drive. A light mist fell, and the street-lamps cast an eerie gaze over the pavement. Alone as always, Harry Potter stood at his window, waiting.

Lupin had sent word the previous week. Someone was coming to collect him, an Order of the Phoenix member on her first mission. The last bit greatly worried Harry. Last summer it had been nine experienced Order members, and the Dursleys had been out of the house. He had been hoping that Lupin would come, and Nymphadora Tonks, or even Kingsley Shacklebolt. However, his escape had been entrusted to a nameless rookie. I have complete faith in her, Lupin had written, Dumbledore is very glad she was recruited. Harry wished he didn't have the misgivings eating away at him.

Bored, he looked at his neatly packed trunk, on top of which was his Firebolt and Hedwig's cage. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he heard footsteps in the hall. 'Only Uncle Vernon,' he thought, hearing the floorboards groaning under his uncle's weight, 'he must be wanting a midnight snack.' Reluctantly, he turned back to the window. He couldn't see signs of anyone coming, and had begun to think that maybe he'd gotten the days mixed up when someone took hold of his arm and hissed 'quiet' in his ear. Harry gulped back the yell that he barely managed to keep behind his lips and turned to face the witch.

She wasn't dressed in robes, but in a loose fitting black shirt, and a long black pleated skirt, with slippers on her feet. She wore what looked like a big black scarf that completely hid her face and hair, with the exception of her eyes, which were very deep set, underneath a pair of thick eyebrows.

"Who are you?" Harry whispered. The witch had pulled out her wand and was shrinking Harry's trunk.

"Save the questions for later, right now I've got to get you to Headquarters." She opened the shoulder bag she had been carrying and placed Harry's trunk inside, followed a minute later by Hedwig's cage. She closed the bag and turned to Harry. He had gotten quite tall over the past year, though the witch was still an inch or so taller.

"How are we getting out of here?" he asked. He hadn't yet heard Uncle Vernon come back upstairs.

"We're going down the stairs and right out the front door. Stealth is the trick here, and Dumbledore said there wouldn't be time to prepare you." She adjusted the scarf as she spoke.

"So we're sitting ducks is what you're saying?" Harry whispered angrily. He'd expect a plan from anyone in the Order of the Phoenix to be damn near fool-proof before being put into action.

"Abso-bloody-lutely not. We're getting out of here with no problem." She held her wand over Harry's head and he felt himself shrinking. When he was about the size of a five-year-old, the witch turned around and squatted down.

"Hop on," she told Harry. He jumped up, for what was probably the first piggy-back ride of his life. The witch slid a slippered foot under the handle of Harry's broomstick and flipped it up. Harry caught it and held it out of the way, and they slipped noiselessly though the bedroom door and into the darkened hallway. The witch stood silently for a moment, and then took off at a soundless run down the hall.

As they neared the staircase, Harry felt himself leaving the ground. Instead of jumping down the stairs, however, Harry's new friend landed on the banister and sort of surfed down the railing. She leapt off at the bottom and landed catlike in the hallway. Harry felt himself being dropped. He could see the light from the fridge for a moment, before it disappeared. Uncle Vernon had finally finished indulging himself. Harry had to get out of there that instant. He started backing towards the door, and in his rush, he crashed into the coat rack, which toppled over with a loud BANG!

Harry froze as the kitchen door crashed open. There stood Uncle Vernon in his dressing gown, his face magenta, and his mustache quivering as he prepared to demand what was going on and order Harry back to his room. Uncle Vernon's mouth opened a second later with a long stream of incoherent gibberish and quite a few swear words.

"Harry, run," the witch said firmly. "Get on your broom and start flying. I'll be along, don't look back." Still clutching his broom, the tiny Harry dashed out of the door and into the night. He mounted his broomstick out in the garden and kicked off, the rain misting his glasses and making it difficult for him to see. He looked back only once, but didn't see the strange witch who had rescued him from the Dursleys.

Glad though he was to be getting away from Privet Drive, Harry could admit to himself that he wasn't looking forward to returning to number twelve, Grimmauld Place in London. The old, decrepit-looking house that was the Headquarters of the Order was formerly the house of his godfather, Sirius Black, who had died just over a month previously. He wiped a bit of water from his glasses and flew on reluctantly.

Not long afterwards, Harry heard a whoosh to his right. Glancing over, he saw a bit of red hair that was quickly covered again as the scarf was adjusted and was hidden in the folds of black cloth once again. Harry was bursting with questions for the newcomer, but decided it would be best to wait until they had landed. They swerved and soared through the air, avoiding the eyes of Muggles far below. The lights of London were soon glittering below them, and Harry began his descent. He touched down lightly in the middle of the square in which he had landed the previous summer. He felt a hand at the back of his shirt, followed by a stretching sensation, and he found himself back to his full height.

"I need you to help me a bit, Harry. This is my first time to Headquarters, and I very much doubt if anyone else knows I'm even in the Order besides Lupin and Dumbledore." Harry hesitated, then strode quickly towards the gap between numbers eleven and thirteen, and as he walked, a big, old house with the paint peeling stretched out into the other houses, and Harry and the witch could climb the steps and enter.

"Who are you?" Harry asked again. Harry noticed that she had her wand out, and her eyes were darting in all directions. She mounted the stairs backwards. Harry was reminded strongly of Moody.

"At school they used to call me Cuts. That will do to be going on with. Go inside, I'll explain more then." They entered quickly, not ringing the doorbell because it was very late, and to avoid waking the portrait if Sirius's mother, which would start shrieking very loudly at any kind of racket. It caused Harry a pang to remember the first time he had seen that wretched painting scream. Once inside, Harry led his companion to the stone-walled basement kitchen, which was dimly lit with torches.

As Cuts removed her scarf, Harry saw she had pulled her curly hair up quite messily, and there were several strands hanging down. She yanked out her hairband, and it hung to her waist in a tangled mess. Harry thought her face was in a worse state than her hair, and never would have given her a second look, if he were to pass her on the street. It was sharply angled, and very savage looking, possibly due to her bushy eyebrows.

"Harry, dear," said a cheerful voice. "You've arrived finally, I've been worried sick." Mrs. Weasley pulled Harry into a tight hug and then started checking him over for signs of injury.

"Where's Remus?" Cuts asked a bit testily. Mrs. Weasley turned from Harry and gave Cuts a disapproving look.

"He is upstairs at the moment, Miss..." Mrs. Weasley prompted.

"Cuts," she repeated, "Didn't Dumbledore tell you I was coming?"

"He said someone would be bringing Harry along, but I didn't think it would be some random witch." Cuts looked highly offended at Mrs. Weasley's statement.

"I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix, thank you very much," she replied, her voice rising with every word. "and I would appreciate it if you didn't treat me as though I were a nobody." Harry thought for a fleeting moment that the two women would pull their wands on each other, when someone came down and interrupted them by saying in a hoarse voice,

"What's going on here?" Remus Lupin stood at the door to the kitchen, glancing between the pair.

"Remus, will you please explain to this... woman... that 'random witches' can not just wander into Headquarters, that is, unless Dumbledore has been coerced into revealing us." Harry noticed Cuts' dark gray eyes were fiery as she looked at Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley, in turn had abandoned her usual pleasant disposition for a look not unlike a saber-toothed tiger.

"By the looks of you I wouldn't be surprised if you had," Mrs. Weasley retorted. Lupin nodded as though he understood everything.

"Well, maybe if you had introduced yourselves properly," Lupin muttered. "Molly Weasley, Cuts, a new recruit," he added. "Cuts, this is Molly Weasley, a fellow member of the Order." Cuts and Mrs. Weasley shook hands and smiled politely at each other, but returned to their hardened stares the moment they released the grip.

"You knew each other in school?" Harry asked amazedly. He was always eager to meet people who were at Hogwarts in his parents' days.

"Of course," Lupin replied dismissively. "We were both Prefects for our Houses. We crossed paths frequently during our final years at Hogwarts."

"We used to do homework in the library together. Moony had a wit worthy of Ravenclaw." Lupin bowed

"Thank you. Though I must say, you did manage to scare James and Sirius into behaving once in a while. That took some Gryffindor spirit."

"You knew my dad and Sirius, then?" Harry asked. Remus let out a snort of laughter.

"She was the only one besides Dumbledore who could control them. Cuts had Sirius so scared once he almost wet himself."

"Can you really blame me, though?" Cuts replied with a laugh. "With the number of times the stupid prat used a Severing Charm my hair, I'm surprised I'm not bald. When I first heard he'd been thrown in Azkaban, I wasn't in the least bit surprised." Harry bristled when Cuts spoke of Sirius that way, but then remembered what he had seen in Snape's Pensieve the previous year. Snape had told Harry for years that his father had been arrogant, the fact of which Harry had remained firmly oblivious to, until a trip into Snape's memory proved it was true. He kept his mouth shut.

"Don't get me wrong, Harry," Cuts continued. "I liked Sirius well enough when he wasn't making a total prat of himself."

"Which wasn't often," Lupin pointed out, "Despite all the abuse, he was quite fond of you, though, up until one point." Cuts gave Remus a significant look.

"I think it's safe to say we were well shut of each other from that point," Cuts said darkly.

"Yes, well, Harry dear, you've had a long day, and I think you should be getting along to bed," Mrs. Weasley said with a yawn. She ushered Harry out of the room before he had half a chance to utter 'good-night.' Harry trudged up the stairs and into the bedroom he had shared with Ron last summer.

Lying awake, Harry tried to sort out what he'd been told. What could possibly have started an argument between Cuts and Sirius that would have ended their friendship? Did Sirius pull a horrid prank on Cuts, or was it something of a more serious nature? He'd seen Cuts's face when she spoke of him, she apparently still held a grudge. If she can still hold onto it after all those years and Sirius's death, she's either really petty, or Sirius really hurt her, he concluded. Harry rolled over as sleep came over him.

Harry was woken the following morning by a surprised yell. Ron hadn't expected his best friend to appear in the room with him. They spent the next hour catching up on what had happened during their month apart. The Dursleys had finally wised up to what Dudley spent his 'tea time' doing, which caused a fight to rival the worst Uncle Vernon had ever had with Harry. "I have half a mind to send you to St. Brutus's," Uncle Vernon had sprayed spit all over the kitchen. Aunt Petunia had wailed until Harry quite felt like using a Silencing Charm on her.

Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes was so successful that Fred and George had decided not to join the Order after all, much to Mrs. Weasley's relief. Ginny and Dean Thomas were still going out, much to Ron's disgust, and Percy was part of the family again, though he was still living in London. Hermione was currently on holiday in Portugal, but would be joining them in a couple of weeks.

"How she could go on holiday at a time like this is beyond me," Ron was saying as they went down to breakfast. "I'd be dead scared."

"Our lives can't stop just because everyone knows Voldemort's back now," Harry said blandly, ignoring Ron's whimpers.

"You know, you're very timid for a Gryffindor," a voice said from behind. Harry and Ron turned to see Cuts tromping down the hall behind them, her feet clad in heavy boots.

"I don't know what business it is of yours," Ron shot back, his ears burning red.

"I was making an observation. It is my business to observe. It is also my business to protect."

"Don't tell me you're going to be following us around all year," Harry exclaimed.

"I wouldn't tell you even if I was. By the way, Ronald, my name is Cuts." She stalked past them and thumped down the stairs, causing Mrs. Black's portrait to start wailing again. "Scum, filth, blood traitors..." Harry and Ron ran the rest of the way down the stairs. Cuts was single-handedly trying to pull the curtains in front of the portrait closed. Lupin ran in from the door leading down to the kitchen and tried to help with the portrait. As soon as he touched the moth-eaten curtain, Cuts gave a great tug and the curtains shut. The last shrieks echoed in the hall.

"You really need to get rid of that, Remus."

"We can't, there's a Permanent Sticking Charm on it," Lupin replied darkly.

"So cut it out of the wall," she replied through clenched teeth, before continuing down to the kitchen.

"Strange, that one," Ron said quietly.

"If you had any idea," Lupin replied, "Let's get breakfast."

Mrs. Weasley had scrambled eggs, toast and bacon all ready by the time Harry, Ron and Lupin made their way downstairs. Cuts was just sitting at the table with Tonks, Ginny and Bill Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. All but Cuts looked up at Harry and Ron when they came in and greeted them. Cuts started reading The Daily Prophet, a newspaper which, for all Harry was concerned, was full of rubbish. She glanced quickly at it, then set the paper down with a snort of amusement.

"What trifle. '10 ways to know you've been attacked by Death Eaters'? Nine times out of ten you're dead before you have to realize it." She took a slice of toast from the pile and bit it crudely.

"It's not trifle, Cuts," Kingsley said in his deep, low voice, "The Ministry has to do its best to retain calm."

"Not everyone is capable of your dueling skills," Tonks added, winking at Harry. He sat down across from her, grinning. Tonks was a Metamorphmagus, meaning she could change her appearance at will. Today she sported her usual short spiky hair in bubble gum pink.

"Not to mention the special equipment," Mr. Weasley added. Everyone except Ron, Harry, and Ginny gave him a look of warning. Mr. Weasley turned a bright shade of red and exited the kitchen, followed by his wife. Harry could tell he wasn't supposed to know about what Mr. Weasley had said.

"What special equipment?" Ginny asked.

"Never mind," Cuts answered sharply. She dragged a finger through the burn mark Fred and George had left last summer, then examined the carbon left on the tip. "There's an owl coming," she said pleasantly.

"It's Hermes. Percy let me borrow him so I could write to Hermione." Ron rose from his seat and went to the window, where the owl had indeed perched seconds before.

"How did you know it was there?" Ginny asked. "Is dipping your finger in soot a form of Divination?"

"You don't take that, do you?" Cuts asked seriously. They shook their heads. "Good. I heard it coming."

"You couldn't have heard it," Ron said, "it's impossible."

"Ever tried hunting Tebos?"

"Hunting what?" Harry asked.

"Tebos, great bloody warthogs, found in Congo and Zaire. They can become invisible, you know. Try hunting something you can't see, and can kill you, and see how fast your senses sharpen."

"And I suppose you're some expert or something?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"I'm the best there is. That's why I'm here."

"What, does You-Know-Who have an army of Tebos?" Ginny asked, trying to wheedle information.

"No. I can see without seeing and without being seen. Besides, with Dementors and Giants, who needs them?" Cuts added with a laugh.

"That's enough, Cuts," Lupin said, "You seem to be taking this all too lightly. Since the loss of the Prophecy," he broke off, with a look at Harry and the others. "We'll discuss this later." Lupin finished his bacon and left the room. Ron opened the envelope and started reading his mail.

"This is why I prefer working solo," Cuts whispered loudly.

"Unfortunately, Cuts, you need to understand that we don't kill unless absolutely necessary," Kingsley explained calmly, "The Order works to bring Death Eaters to justice. It saves innocent lives. I think it's better for you to be here."

"If you are referring to the incident I think you are, Kingsley, that's hitting a little below the belt." She downed the rest of her tea in one gulp, then belched loudly. "Let's go." Kingsley and Cuts also left the kitchen.

"She is definitely the strangest witch I've ever met," Ron said, shaking his head.

"I've heard about her," Tonks said, "Comes from a very old Wizarding family, one of the first. She was raised by her older brother, who I heard is a Squib."

"What about her parents?" Harry asked.

"Father's in Azkaban, mother in St. Mungo's. Closed Ward."

"So what's the owl say?" Ginny asked.

"Hermione says there have been a lot of suspicious deaths," Ron responded glumly, "Her parents are making to come home sooner than they expected."

"Let me see that," Tonks said. Her eyes scanned it quickly. "This is bad. I don't know how he could have spread so far this quickly. Dumbledore has to know." She went to the window and shot a jet of silver light from her wand that went ricocheting off into the distance. "Let's see what the others are doing." They climbed the stairs into the hall, walking on tiptoe, and heard scuffling sounds from behind one of the doors. Tonks opened it and went in, Harry, Ron and Ginny behind her. Kingsley and Cuts were engaged in a sparring match, Lupin watching on the side.

Tonks motioned to Lupin, and he followed her into the hallway, closing the door behind them. Harry fell to watching the fight. Ron stood with his mouth open as Kingsley threw Cuts to the ground, where she flipped herself right back up and leaped into the air, doing a spin kick into Kingsley's shoulder, knocking him to the ground with a grunt. Cuts then got down and pinned him to the floor. Kingsley struggled for about a minute.

"Ready to surrender, then?" Cuts asked triumphantly.

"Not quite," he answered, throwing Cuts off his body and clear over to the couch. She landed with a loud thud, that made Harry wince. Cuts, however, showed no signs of pain, but merely held her hand out to Kingsley.

"Not bad, Shacklebolt," she said as he came over to help her up, "You Aurors are tougher than I thought." She dusted off her backside.

"Why aren't you an Auror?" Ginny asked amazedly.

"I don't agree with some of the Auror codes of conduct. Besides, like I said earlier, I like working alone." She left the room, giving Ginny a hard slap on the back on the way out, sending her reeling. Harry grabbed her by the arm to stop her from falling.

"I bet people are glad she likes being alone," Ron said quietly, "That way they don't have to look at her." Ginny punched her brother in the arm. Ron gave a yelp.

"That was unbelievably rude. Didn't you hear what Tonks said about her? It's not her fault her mother's in St. Mungo's and she was raised by a man."

"All right, all right, sorry, I won't insult your friend anymore," Ron said, holding his arm and wincing.

"She's not my friend, I just don't think it's right to make fun of her."

"You always make friends with weirdoes, don't you, though?" Ron continued, "Look at Loony."

"Luna," Harry corrected. "And she's not as weird as you think." Luna Lovegood was a Ravenclaw in Ginny's year. Harry remembered the last conversation had had with her; before the Leaving Feast, after Sirius had died. He had certainly felt more for her at that moment than during the entire year. The only relief from the anguish tearing Harry apart was the memory of that conversation.

"She's right, Ron," Kingsley said, "Besides, you don't want to get on the wrong side of Cuts. She didn't get that name for nothing." He massaged his shoulder where Cuts had kicked him. "She would have killed more Death Eaters than Mad-Eye caught during the first war. That's why she's not an Auror. Too quick to kill."

"That's why Dumbledore brought her here?" Harry asked. Kingsley nodded.

"He practically had to force her. She worked on her own before, made a mistake and killed someone she didn't want to kill. After that, she headed off to Africa. She's impulsive, she needs restraint."

"She's insane," Ron muttered.

"She needs friends," Ginny insisted.

~

Cuts wasn't around Headquarters the next few days, which Harry was glad about, though he wished he wasn't there himself. Albeit, it was better than being stuck at the Dursleys, but everywhere Harry looked were painful reminders of his godfather. Even Kreacher the House-Elf made Harry want to scream, since wherever Harry went in the house, Kreacher was there, mocking him.

"Kreacher is glad Master is gone, he doesn't pine like the Boy-Who-Lived. Master was nothing more than a filthy..."

"Shut up," Harry snarled, aiming a kick at the old elf, who jumped back from him. Harry hated everything about the elf, from his snout-like nose to the filthy loincloth about his waist.

"Harry," said a familiar voice, "Do not take your anger out on Kreacher. Remember what I told you." Harry turned and saw a tall, thin, elderly wizard with half moon spectacles and twinkling blue eyes.

"But, Professor Dumbledore, you heard him..." Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Harry.

"He is what he has been made by wizards. I have something I have to discuss with you down in the kitchen. Lupin is there, and Cuts should be back any moment. The matter at hand concerns her." He led Harry down the stairs, through the Hallway (treading softly around Mrs. Black), and down into the kitchen.

Lupin was looking seriously at the clock. "She's late, Dumbledore," he said as they came in.

"She's coming from quite a distance, Remus, and I daresay she would have gotten caught up in her assignment."

"That's just right up her alley, isn't it?" Lupin answered. Cuts came banging down the stairs and bursting into the kitchen. Harry noticed her boots, which she hadn't bothered to wipe, were covered in mud. She threw her cloak off, and she was wearing a gray, leathery, tunic that fell to her knees. She then flung herself into a chair at the table, leaned back, and put her feet on the table.

"Cuts," Dumbledore said shortly. Cuts looked down at her feet and pulled out her wand.

"Oops, sorry. Scourgify." The mud disappeared.

"Take them down, Cuts. People eat on that," Lupin said. Scowling, Cuts removed her feet from the table, and replaced them with her elbows.

"Cuts, do you remember the night you removed Harry from his aunt and uncle's house?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm not likely to forget it anytime soon," she answered dryly, "I've met nicer Tebos than that Vernon Dursley."

"Did you know that as a result of your confrontation with him that he is now in a coma?" Lupin said. "And that the Ministry is looking to prosecute you?" Cuts sat back in her chair.

"Why do you think I was so eager to head off to Portugal?" she asked nonchalantly. Harry was dumbstruck. Cuts was wanted by the Ministry, and she was sitting there as though she had just slapped Uncle Vernon around the face.

"I do not think that you understand the gravity of the situation," Dumbledore said his voice rising, "Vernon Dursley was close to death when they found him. I do not think you are ready to handle important missions." Cuts stood up, glaring at Dumbledore with such a look of ferocity in her eyes that she looked like a barbarian. Harry shrunk back against the wall.

"It's just a Muggle," she said coldly. "If you don't think I'm ready, then fine, I'll be on my way." She stormed towards the stairs. Lupin called her back.

"It was a comment like that, Cuts, that ended a very good friendship." She glared.