Harry Potter and the Icemaidens

Beckery Hill, Saturday 31 October 1981 . . .

"Good morning, everyone. Feeling chipper today?"

"We're alright, Glaston," Wilma Skegness said as Glaston walked into the community hall in the Reevewick, accompanied by Hamilton St. John. Seated around several tables were all the Magical Shire Reeves of the United Kingdom. Forty of them represented the counties of England; thirty-nine for the historic counties and one -- Xavier Hogan Roper (he preferred his middle name) -- representing the County of London, which had been granted its own Magical Sheriff in 1889 by Queen Victoria. Thirteen represented the counties of Wales. Thirty-four represented the Scottish counties. And there were six from Northern Ireland, the last remnants of the thirty-two Magical Shire Reeves that had watched over the Emerald Isle even when the Irish Free State had been allowed to become its own dominion within the British Empire and, these days, answered to the President of the Republic of Ireland as His Excellency's Magical Sheriffs.

A quick glance to everyone before Glaston earned them a nod from Her Majesty's Wizard of the Realm. All of them looked alert, rested, ready and determined. They knew today would be perhaps the most important day of their lives. Either Voldemort was going down . . . or the whole Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot would be made to surrender their power and authority at the ends of wands welded by people that -- if they were even known at all -- were seen of as fictional characters in children's bedtime stories told by those who remembered the ancient magical sheriffs said to be the servants of the Sovereign and the old Wizards' Council. And if that happened, Voldemort would be defeated anyhow; the society he had sought for so long to conquer would be nothing but a memory within a week. Her Majesty had been VERY explicit about that. If the magical citizens of the United Kingdom couldn't clean up the mess they had allowed to accumulate over the years due to arrogance, blind fear and criminal levels of ignorance, they would soon learn how small they all were.

"I contacted the Chief Sheriff in Dublin, Glaston," Seamus Kirk, the Magical Sheriff of County Fermanagh in Northern Ireland, then said. "Eamon told me President Hillery has released a magical writ allowing all our cousins across the Line to join in just in case things go south and we have to take the Ministry down. The President also told Eamon he'll instruct Minister O'Kelly to inform the International Confederation of what will happen with our Ministry in case we have to move in." Like the British Shire Reeves with the Queen, the Irish Magical Sheriffs were directly answerable to their President with no interference whatsoever from the Irish Ministry of Magic.

A nod. "Eamon's a good man. First in his class as I recall." Glaston then took a deep breath. "Selena, any change concerning the Longbottoms?"

A shake of the head. "No, Glaston." Selena Lovegood -- recently married to the editor of The Quibbler and having given birth to their daughter Luna on the fourth of April this year; Glaston was Luna's godfather -- was one of the new generation of Magical Sheriffs. She was responsible for Devon, home to the large magical communities in Bournemouth and Ottery Saint Catchpole. Not to mention two centaur herds, a dragon preserve, a unicorn herd, a tribe of wild forest elves and a merman colony in one of the bays in the Channel. All of which was totally unknown to the Ministry of Magic and would stay that way; they were protected by Royal Warrant. "Augusta still doesn't want to put her house under a Fidelius; the wards around her house have been improved by Frank and Alice since they were warned to be extra cautious by Albus. I say that, unless Bellatrix has a few surprises up her sleeve, they can withstand siege until the Aurors rescue them." A sigh. "When I asked her about it, Augusta told me she felt it wouldn't be necessary since most people know where they live." A shrug. "I actually offered to set up a Kokujun-based Fidelius -- not telling her about the Shield, of course -- to protect her family. She refused, unfortunately."

"Understandable," Glaston noted with a nod.

"Another thing, too: Alice is pregnant."

Silence.

"That's wonderful!" Napaeae Runcorn, the Sheriff of Cheshire, gasped.

"You better be extra careful there, Selene," Hogan Roper then stated. "Bella's good with the Cruciatus. If Alice gets nailed hard, the baby's in danger . . . "

"Oh, my God . . .!"

Eyes locked on Hamilton. "What?!" Hogan demanded.

The doctor looked horrified. "I just remembered!" he exclaimed. "I sensed it when I went over to the Potters to help James heal from wounds in his last fight with Riddle's people!" As Glaston made an urging motion with his hand, Hamilton took a deep breath. "Lily's pregnant, too!" As shocked gasps echoed from all over the room, he added, "I think she was over two months along when we went there!" Like any wizard, the Shire Reeves and those affiliated with them could be affected by the power of a Fidelius Charm. It could be overridden -- the spell used was Gunjun: Fidelius Evanesco -- but only a Magical Writ from the Queen would allow them to do that.

Glaston gaped. "Dear God . . .!"

"Glaston, my area is clean of Riddle's people," Napaeae then offered. She had been a year-mate of James Potter and Lily Evans, though she hadn't been close to either of them. "I can stay here and watch your back if you have to go in after them!"

The older wizard nodded. "Appreciated."

The others in the room tensed, many handling their wands. Attacking a pregnant woman was beyond the pall in the eyes of mainstream wizarding society; even many of Voldemort's rank-and-file were wary of doing that even if the mother was a normal-born. But Voldemort himself wouldn't care. He knew the first part of Sybill Trelawney's prophecy thanks to another of Napaeae's year-mates, Severus Snape. He would be more than desperate enough to do all to kill Harry Potter and be done with it. And Bellatrix Lestrange was totally insane; she wouldn't care at all about killing an unborn child as long as she succeeded in the mission her master set forth for her.

"When will Riddle move?" Orion Matthews, who watched the West Midlands, asked.

"As close to midnight as possible, I think," Glaston said, and then he took a deep breath before gazing on the others. "Alright, we know Her Majesty's orders in this matter. Many of us, I realise, will feel VERY wary about exposing ourselves like this if everything goes south. A lot of magical beings are under our protection, beings that have remained -- either by choice or by Fate -- free of the Ministry's notice. If we expose ourselves, we risk THEIR exposure as well." He took a deep breath. "Deep down, however, I feel that if we are forced to attack the Ministry after tonight, it won't cause too much of a problem. Statistically, the 'elite' of the wizarding world are twenty percent of the total population. Once we proclaim Her Majesty's Desire and get the goblins to march out of Gringotts in our support, most of the half-bloods and all the normal-borns will fall in behind us, not to mention those purebloods who have strove to stay neutral in this fight and have the connections to keep Riddle at bay."

"People like Malcolm Parkinson and Cyrus Greengrass, you mean?" Hogan asked.

A nod. "Exactly. Too many people rate Malcolm and Cyrus as 'dark.' Even Albus has dismissed them as that without any understanding of what they do. Given their connections in normal society, I'm sure they'll fall in alongside once they understand what's going on." Glaston then grinned. "Besides, with Lucius out of the way, Malcolm literally becomes the richest man in wizarding Britain, with Cyrus a close second. They'll DEFINITELY like that!" As laughter filled the room, Glaston took a deep breath. "May our magic and luck be to us all," he then said. "Let's go."

Everyone nodded as they all stood to leave . . .

* * *

"She looks exactly like Lily."

Glaston looked over from the notebook he had been reading. It was now evening, the sun having set in the west and a clear night overhead, the sliver of a dawning crescent moon high in the sky. "Yes, she does, doesn't she?" he mused before turning back to the book. He and Napaeae were relaxing in the living room of the Reevetor. She was sitting on a couch beside what looked like a spitting image of Lily Potter herself, dressed plainly. "I actually named her 'Lilian' in Lily's honour; it shocked me when I subjected her to Aelf Evolutio and she turned out like this." The Elf Evolution process was a combination charm and potions regime developed by Ryuuji Hirosaki in his NEWT year to give house elves the ability to transform themselves, physically and mentally, into perfect replicas of human beings (even if they still remained bound by the innermost core of their magic to serve a master) and keep their powers. "Got her out of an abusive house in Mould-on-the-Wold." That was a wizarding village in West Somerset on the coast of the Severn estuary near the border with Devon. "Her mind was so badly shattered by her owners that I had no choice but to obliviate what was left and give her the knowledge subsets I gave my other elves. She's coming along."

The younger woman gazed at him. "What about her old owners?"

He smirked. "I obliviated them. Made them totally forget they ever had an elf in the first place. I then contacted Gringotts and suggested to Erlking that if they ever came around Diagon to get money to buy a new elf, they should be audited."

Hearing that, she laughed. Erlking, one of the senior directors at the bank, was one of the most feared goblins in all of Britain. He was the one who handled the foreclosures for defaulted loans, which had made him hated by most wizards but there was nothing they could do since everything Erlking -- whom Glaston and Napaeae saw as a very good friend -- did was totally legal under current treaties between the Ministry and Gringotts. No one wanted to provoke another goblin rebellion given all the damage the Death Eaters had unleashed in the last decade. She then gazed once more on Lilian, her hand reaching out to gently stroke the transformed elf's cheek, which made Lilian look at her. Noting that, Napaeae smiled. "How do you feel, Lilian?"

A light smile. "Lilian is alright, Mistress. Master is a good wizard. Lilian loves Master. He likes Lilian very much." Hearing her speak in third-person, Napaeae could only sigh. Her own house elf had been that way for a few weeks after he had been subjected to the Aelf Evolutio. "Lil- . . . " She paused, and then she shuddered before she sighed. "It's hard, Mistress," she then said in a perfectly normal voice. "I . . . " A light smile crossed her face. "I'm trying to accept what Master wants of Lil- . . . " Another pause as she stuttered, her body quaking as she fought generations of conditioning, both magical and genetic, that dominated her kind to this day, drawing on the nexus of human-type magic that had been given to her weeks before. "Of m-me, but . . . " A helpless shrug crossed her face as her eyes teared.

"Tommy went through the same thing," Napaeae told her. "So did all of Glaston's other elves, not to mention all your brothers and sisters who serve our other friends all over the country. Let it come." She then laughed. "Hey, let's do this! When we get the chance, we'll go over to Godric's Hollow and introduce you to Lily and . . . "

Silence.

"Godric's Hollow . . . " Napaeae then whispered as a look of shock crossed her face. "Oh, no!" she breathed out. "Glaston! The Fidelius . . .!"

The older wizard was already on his feet and running downstairs . . .

* * *

Godric's Hallow, 11:42 PM . . .

"That bloody IDIOT!" Glaston hissed.

Napaeae grimaced. "He always was a cocky son-of-a-bitch!" she snarled.

The two Magical Sheriffs were now in the bushes close to the Potter cottage, an obscuring charm covering them to keep them out of sight from the half-dozen black-robed wizards now standing in the front yard, watching with delight and admiration as their master was engaged in a very epic duel with James Potter by the front door. "I bet they didn't have to do a damned thing to the wards," Glaston mused, a tightness in his voice as he witnessed Voldemort wear the younger wizard down. While he could easily take the monster out with a combination Gunjun: Morsmordre Crucio (to disable his companions) and then an Avada Kedavra to Voldemort's back to kill him at last, he was under Royal orders not to interfere unless Harry Potter died. THAT, he long ago learned, was the truly awful side of the job of Magical Sheriff. "Albus should have warned him to be extra cautious even if the Fidelius was placed over this house!"

"Who betrayed them?" Napaeae whispered. "Sirius?!"

A shake of the head. "Doubtful. He loathed everything Riddle stands for." A smirk then crossed the older man's face. "Pity for Walburga that when Sirius and Andromeda left the family, Calvin declared them both Magical Wards of the Crown due to parental incompetence, so she wouldn't be able to use her family magics against either of them." Calvin Hobbes was Hogan Roper's predecessor as Magical Sheriff of London -- the former had been relieved of service at his personal request three years before -- under whose jurisdiction the Ancient and Noble House of Black of Grimmauld fell under. "When she finally dies -- and she's getting there -- he'll inherit the whole pot AND the headship of the family. Imagine the looks on Bellatrix's and Narcissa's faces when Sirius turns around one day and allows Andromeda to come back into . . .?"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Both jolted on hearing that shout, and then turned to see James collapse to the ground beside the patio. As a cheer escaped the Death Eaters, Voldemort moved into the house . . . just as a sudden burst of light shone through the windows of one of the upstairs bedrooms. Looking up, Glaston blinked, and then he breathed in as his face paled. "Oh, Lily! That's GENIUS!" he hissed out as he drew his wand.

"What?!" she hissed out.

"Never mind," he mused, a determined look crossing his face. "The situation has changed, Dame Napaeae." Seeing her stiffen on his addressing her by proper style, he took a deep breath. "Gunjun: Ductor Libertas!" he then hissed out.

Napaeae jolted as she felt a tidal wave of magic roll through her -- the very type of magic that she had first felt back at her home when her father-in-law had done that same spell before she took the oath as Magical Shire of Cheshire in 1978 -- and then she dropped onto her buttocks as she stared at the older wizard. "Glaston . . .?"

"You know what to do," he said before rising and racing off to a nearby tree.

She watched him go, and then shuddered as she drew her wand, a deadly smile crossing her face as she stood up and walked over to where the Death Eaters were . . .

* * *

It's been a very good war so far, Mason Burke mused as he watched his master walk into the living room of the Potter cottage and begin to attack the defensive charms that had been layered inside the house to prevent the Dark Lord from getting upstairs and strike down his ultimate target. Despite the considerable casualties that they had suffered -- especially in that debacle at Romney Marsh two years before; How in Merlin's name did the mudbloods do THAT to a dozen purebloods?! -- they were within a hair's breadth of forcing the Ministry to finally submit. Already, there was talk in the Daily Prophet of seeking terms with the Death Eaters. If they didn't have to worry about this possible threat from the half-blood baby son of the blood-traitor Potter and his mudblood wife, they would soon walk down Diagon . . .

"Hey, Mason! Long time, no see!"

He gasped on hearing that cheery woman's voice, and then spun around to see a lovely woman in her early twenties leaning against a tree, with cinnamon hair and dark brown eyes, her arms crossed and a friendly smile on her face. Staring at her through her mask for a moment, Mason blinked, and then his eyes widened as recognition dawned. "Napaeae Collins . . . " he breathed out before relaxing slightly, sensing the others with him having turned to gaze her way, their own wands drawn and levelled at her. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?!" he demanded.

A shrug. "Oh, I just came to see the Dark Lord finally put down Potter," she admitted as she glanced around him at James' unmoving body. "He and I didn't get along with each other back in school. Believe me, an arrogant berk like him won't be missed THAT much!" She then spat on the ground nearby before she shrugged.

Seeing that, Mason smiled as he shifted off his mask to nod at her. "I remember that," he mused; he had been a year ahead of Napaeae at Hogwarts. "Well, I'm sure the Master will be interested in seeing you as soon as he's done with the mudblood and her brat." He nodded back towards the Potter cottage as he laughed, the others nodding as Napaeae was quick to sense them relaxing even more. Pity. "A good pure family like yours?! We've missed you and the Runcorns in the ranks! Pity your husband decided to serve the blood-traitors, but he'll learn soon enough! Don't panic about that . . .!"

"SOUSETSU-SHI!"

* * *

A minute before . . .

"I pray to God you were right, old friend . . . "

Glaston had been prepared for this since Hamilton had told the Magical Sheriffs what he had sensed about Lily Potter over a month before.

In a way, he had been prepared for this for years.

To be a Magical Sheriff meant being as open-minded as possible when it came to all living things, magical and normal. In other words, people like Glaston Tore had to treat all those under his/her watch equally. There could be no discrimination, no prejudice, no racism, none of the other "-isms" that had haunted humanity for ages. And while he had been born the son of a Magical Sheriff, he had never really come to appreciate that sentiment until he met Ryuuji Hirosaki.

Ryuuji . . .

Glaston bit his lip as he took position behind a thick tree, looking around the trunk to gaze through the window of one of the upstairs bedrooms. He could see Lily behind the curtains; she was currently in a stance with her wand pointed at the doorway. If what he had sensed of the interior of the cottage was true, Voldemort would have to penetrate several shield layers to get to that location. This would be easy for a man of his training and experience to do. Pity none of us ever fought him directly, he mused to himself as he heard the sparking noises of shattered wards going down and the muffled shouting from inside the house as the Dark Lord chanted the necessary incantations to break the wards down and get to his target. If we knew his strengths and weaknesses -- sparred with him in battle while others were scanning him with the Kokujun -- we could have learned some things and given the Queen some more options to pursue when she finally decided to put this thing down!

Relaxing himself, he paused to stare at his wand. It was his original wand from Ollivander's, 14 inches long, made of yew with a dragon heartstring core. On recalling that, Octavius Ollivander's voice then echoed in his mind: "A curious choice for you, Mister Tore." He remembered that an amused smile had crossed the older man's face as he gazed on the young boy that summer of 1932. "A steadfast wood with the heart of a dragon that had guarded an enchanted forest in Romania according to my sources. I suspect that whatever you do in your future endeavours, young man, you will always succeed in them."

"About to prove you right, Octavius," he whispered as he gazed on the tip of his weapon, where a small ebony crystal the size of a knut coin was located.

That had been a gift Ryuuji had given him before he had gone home.

A crystal grown from the very material -- its name, Glaston suddenly remembered, was something he never bothered to ask his friend about -- the Traveller had used to come to this dimension in the first place, one that had been created in this dimension (again, Glaston had no idea how Ryuuji had done it) and had been with him since.

In the forty-two years he had that crystal fixed to the tip of his wand, Glaston hadn't taken the time to analyse it himself at his home, much less get someone who was an expert in magical jewels to take a look at it. He had just used it.

And it had served him very well.

NO spell that he had ever cast had ever missed or misfired.

And hopefully, this one last time, it would stand up to it . . .

Glaston tensed on hearing a muffled blast from inside the cottage. Looking up, he watched Lily stagger back as a cloaked figure stepped inside, wand drawn and ready. As the younger woman tried to keep her attacker back, her free hand held out towards him, Glaston grimaced as he felt a sense of peace come over him. With that, he took aim.

"Into Your Hands, oh Fates, I commend my spirit," he whispered as he watched Voldemort straighten his wand out at Lily's chest, and then he breathed out.

"SOUSETSU-SHI!"

* * *

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

* * *

Everyone froze as heads snapped around just as a flash of bright light exploded from one side of the cottage. "What was THAT?!" one of the Death Eaters exclaimed.

Napaeae smirked as her wand aimed to the ground. "Your defeat, mudbrain."

Mason blinked on hearing that insult, a surge of sudden indignation flooding him as his mind first equated that word to "mudblood" -- which he certainly was NOT, being related to the Black family through his paternal grandmother, Belvina -- and then time seemed to slow down as he turned around to see a lethal smile cross her face. As he then noticed something bright, curved and glittering appear in her left hand, he saw Napaeae licked her lips. "Sayonara," she hissed out.

"GUNJUN: MORSMORDRE CRUCIO!"

And ALL six of the Death Eaters there screamed in mortal pain . . .

* * *

It had happened all at once.

Voldemort's green Killing Curse beam leapt out through the point of his yew wand to slam into Lily Potter's chest, instantly causing the electrical impulses in her nervous system to shut down right then and there. With that, her heart stopped beating as her body -- no longer responding to any commands from the brain through the nerves -- began to collapse to the floor. At that very instant, a black-tinged silver bolt of energy exploded through the window to slam into her side at the point where her liver was, which flooded her body with a tsunami of magic and life energy that started up the nervous system and forced the heart to beat again, though the brain would take a couple of minutes to reboot and begin to communicate with the rest of the body.

It didn't mean that Lily would fully revive, though. She had just been struck by a spell originally designed centuries ago to kill cleanly and painlessly; the Avada Kedavra had been originally used to humanely slaughter animals so they could be cultivated for meat. And since magic is ultimately about intent, the intent of the spell -- to end the life of one Lily Elizabeth Potter -- would be carried out.

However, for over the last four months, Lily had not been the only life contained in her body. There was someone else there, too.

And this is where the other spell that just struck here would come into play.

Officially, despite the Japanese incantation Sousetsu-shi that Glaston had used to send it forth, the spell was called Desidero Infantis.

The Lost Child spell.

It had been designed by Ryuuji Hirosaki in his OWL year when he and Glaston -- as a study project -- began to wonder if it was possible to actually create a spell that could act as a counter to the Killing Curse. While their studies had not produced anything that could have actually rendered obsolete the Killing Curse as the "one use, kills what it hits" spell it was, they DID discover something quite interesting.

If there were TWO or more spirits within the target body, it was theoretically possible to use a power-sharing spell to save the life of ONE of those spirits.

In nature, a two spirit-in-one body situation only occurred ONE way.

Hence, the title "Lost Child."

But in testing it on rats he had captured, Ryuuji soon learned that just using a spell like this would not totally fight off all the effects of Avada Kedavra (or the Cruciatus; he and Glaston had tested that one, too) on the unborn foetus within the mother's body. As it had long ago been established, any child born of a woman who had been subjected to intensive Cruciatus exposure would be pretty much a squib, which was one of the reasons that attacking a pregnant woman had become quite frowned on in wizarding society, even with normal-borns. In realising that, Ryuuji then came to one conclusion, which was quite easy to conclude in theory but not test in practice:

The spell would have to be one of total, absolute SACRIFICE.

And given that Lily had just invoked ancient blood protections learned from Albus Dumbledore on herself to protect Harry from the wrath of Voldemort . . .

. . . the sacrifice of one Sir Glaston Bernard Tore, Her Majesty's Magical Shire Reeve of the Loyal County of Somerset, would have VERY interesting consequences.

* * *

In orbit over Britain . . .

"<<What was that?!>>"

The cosmonaut that was currently in command of Salyut 6 turned as he gazed on his companion. "<<What is the problem, Leonid Ivan'ch?>>"

The other cosmonaut shook his head. "<<A curious thing, Viktor Petrovich,>>" he said as he gazed on his comrade. "<<I was looking down on Britain when I saw a weird shockwave of energy -- like the waves you see when someone drops a pebble into a still glass of water -- burst out from somewhere in the southwest of the country and wash all over. Even over the part of Ireland that they control!>>"

Floating over to gaze out the portal on the planet far below, Viktor looked, and then he shook his head. "<<I don't see anything. You must have imagined it.>>"

Leonid blinked, and then he sighed. "<<Maybe I did . . . >>"

* * *

Voldemort turned to look out the shattered window as Lily collapsed to the floor, and then his blood-red eyes widened as he watched a man in a grey suit and bowler hat fall to the ground, his now-burnt wand rolling away from dying fingers as he sank into the grass. Focussing on his face, he felt his jaw drop in disbelief as the Dark Lord immediately recalled who that was.

"Glaston . . .?"

Surprised to recognise someone whom he hadn't seen in over four decades -- what HAD happened to the man ever since he left school? -- the Dark Lord then moved to walk back to the bedroom door so he could shout to his companions.

"GUNJUN: MORSMORDRE CRUCIO!"

Voldemort jolted, and then he grimaced as he heard the screams of his men from the front lawn, yells that could only have erupted from the massed use of the Cruciatus on them. "Damn! Ambush!" he hissed as he turned to gaze on Harry Potter, who was staring at him curiously, clearly not understanding what was happened or what had just made his mother go to sleep. Noting that, the Dark Lord felt a smile cross his face as he levelled his wand on the boy's head. Dumbledore had probably planned something like this so that he could catch Voldemort in the act.

Too bad.

And too late.

"Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

As six men dropped to the ground, curling in on themselves as their hands grasped their left arms and they screamed their heads off as their bodies were wracked with pain, Napaeae smiled as she held up the deadly kukri in her left hand. She had been given that by a grateful Gurkha staff sergeant, Haria Thapa, who had lost his magical daughter (a first year student at Hogwarts at the time) to the Death Eaters three years before, just right after she became the Magical Sheriff of Cheshire. She personally hunted down the monster responsible -- it was none other than Mason Burke's own cousin, Joseph, yet another relative of the Black family that had been born as a useless sack of flesh in her eyes -- and tortured him for an hour using the Morsmordre Crucio in front of a delegation of the deadly warriors of Nepal before dispatching him by slitting his throat with Haria's own service kukri. The sergeant -- who was quite impressed to learn that not all magicals were arrogant sods who didn't give a damn about normal people -- then gladly arranged to have a specially-forged kukri made by a friend in the old country, a Buddhist Kami blacksmith who also was knowledgeable in magical weapons and had ensured this blade had been dipped in the blood of a yeti before it was presented to Napaeae Runcorn, thus giving it a very deadly edge.

She hadn't had the chance to use it yet, but now . . .

Before she could draw up Mason's sleeve so she could get at the Dark Mark, Napaeae jolted as an explosion ripped off half the roof of the Potter cottage, a geyser of magical flame and shattered debris showering over the back lawn. "What the hell . . .?!" she gasped before standing and moving towards the house, allowing the Death Eaters to continue to scream as they were tortured by the Morsmordre Crucio. Jumping over James' unmoving body, she looked around, tensing on seeing smoke billowing through the upstairs stairwell. "LILY!" she screamed as she raced upstairs, hopping over shattered wall panels that had been torn out by Voldemort as he charged upstairs, and then she got to the upper floor hallway, tracing the smoke to one of the bedrooms. Looking in, she then stopped. "Oh, my God . . .!"

Despite the smoke and fire that had just broken out, she could see Lily lying on the floor nearby. Her body was glowing to Napaeae's enhanced magical eyesight, which told her she was in some sort of stasis, but still alive. As was the precious life within her. Wordlessly shrinking her kukri and slipping it back in the pocket of her jacket, she took a moment to look around her. In the middle of the room, there was an empty cloak and a dropped wand, the former starting to burn. A glance around didn't reveal anything of a crib or anything else through the smoke. "Damn!" she hissed before lunging over to grab Lily and pick her up. "Tommy!"

A pop! heralded the arrival of her family house elf, now in the form of a very handsome teenage boy with black hair and dark blue eyes. "What is it, Mis- . . .?" he began, and then his jaw dropped on seeing the empty cloak on the floor. "Oh, my!"

"Get Glaston's body! Take him to Reevetor Somerset!" Napaeae snapped. "Move!"

Tommy disappeared with another pop! Napaeae then grunted as she boosted Lily into her arms, and then carried her out of the bedroom, heading downstairs. Leaping once more over James' body, she muttered, "Sorry to leave you behind, Prongs . . .!"

"Nappy!"

She looked over. "Hogie!"

Hogan Roper walked into view, wand drawn. "Dear God!" he gasped on seeing the destruction around him, and then he came up to stare at Lily. "What happened?!"

"She got hit by an A-K," Napaeae said. "No sign of Harry; I think Riddle got him, but something happened and he bought it, too!"

Hogan gaped. "WHAT?!"

A nod. "It's true!" Napaeae said before her ears picked up pained moans from nearby. "Damn! Forgot about them! Here, hold her for a moment," she grunted as she handed Lily to Hogan, and then she drew out her wand and aimed it in the direction of the still suffering Death Eaters. "Gunjun: Morsmordre Avada Kedavra!"

All of them seemed to freeze for a moment, and then the strength in their bodies disappeared. "There!" Napaeae breathed out. "Tommy!"

Pop! "I took Master Glaston to see Master Hamilton, Mistress!"

"Good," Napaeae said as she thumbed the Death Eaters. "Take their bodies and dump them into the Atlantic somewhere. Let's give the krakens a snack!"

Tommy turned to glare at them, scowling. "I only hope the sea krakens won't get indigestion," he said before snapping his fingers.

Instantly, the six bodies vanished from sight; they would later reappear in the Atlantic some distance from Land's End, in a place the Magical Sheriffs knew a colony of sea krakens lived, krakens that liked the taste of human flesh and didn't mind how it was delivered to them. That place had been the dumping point for dead bodies killed by people like Napaeae and Hogan for years. There was nothing that could hurt a wizard worse than making a relative disappear without a trace, to learn of their deaths only when the charm runes at Gringotts told the tale to the goblins and they sent out the notices for wills to be read. Ragnok had actually once confessed to Hogan that he actually LIKED delivering death notices to grieving relatives of Death Eaters; seeing those people -- who often turned out to be as pompous as their slain kin -- break down and cry was worth a lot to the chief director of Britain's goblin tribe.

"So what happened?" Hogan asked.

Napaeae gazed at him. "Glaston used Sousetsu-shi."

Silence.

Hogan's jaw dropped as he looked at Lily, whom he could tell was breathing, though not doing anything else at this time. "Oh, my . . . "

"She's alive. So's the baby inside her," Napaeae said as she moved to take Lily back. "You get over to Windsor Castle to tell the Queen! I'll get Lily to Hamilton!"

"Right!"

And with that, both people apparated away and Tommy popped away as the distant rumble of a motorcycle echoed through the air over Godric's Hollow . . .

* * *

Windsor Castle, Sunday 1 November 1981 . . .

"How are you feeling now, Hogan?"

Hearing the Queen address her by his preferred name in lieu of the more formal style of address she used with him, Hogan blinked as he wiped his dark eyes clear and slid his hand through his black hair. "Still tired, but a little bit of pepper-up potion from Doctor St. John will resolve that, ma'am," he said.

A butler came up, tea tray in hand. "Some tea, Sir Xavier?"

Hogan blinked, and then he nodded as he took the cup that was there. "Thank you," he said as the butler step back, and then he sighed. "To say that last night was one of the oddest nights in my life, Your Majesty, is putting it quite lightly."

"What do you believe happened?" the Queen wondered as she took her own chair, and then nodded thanks as the butler prepared tea for her.

"From what little I could sense of the scene when I was there, it appears that Lily did something that managed to force the Killing Curse Riddle unleashed on young Harry to bounce back and strike him down." Hogan took a moment to consider that. "I would believe it to be a blood magic-based form of defence. Outside using the Kokujun to power a personal Protego shield, it would be the only way, I believe, to defeat the Killing Curse even from someone as strong as Tom Riddle." After coming to the ancient castle west of London to report to the Queen -- who had been awaiting the results of the previous night's events -- Hogan had been allowed to collapse in a guest bedroom and rest up before making his full report after a filling breakfast the following morning. Of course, waking up to the news -- delivered by a courier from Gringotts sent directly by Ragnok -- that Harry Potter himself had survived the attack on Godric's Hollow had truly made Hogan's day. Prophecy had been fulfilled.

The Queen closed her eyes. "Thank Heaven for that," she whispered before standing up and walking to the window to gaze outside. She had already got reports from representatives of the Prime Minister's Office and MI6 who were fully aware of the wizarding world's existence on spontaneous celebrations that had started to break out near known wizard habitation areas. A call from Hogan's friends had confirmed that the Ministry of Magic was already hard at working getting those celebrations contained and making sure the normals didn't ask too many questions about what was going on. They were also moving to round up Death Eaters -- all of whom appeared shocked and stunned over the fall of their master -- and prepare for mass trials that would no doubt fill up the cells in Azkaban Prison soon enough. "We will award the Lady Potter the George Cross for her bravery and sacrifice in helping put an end to this terrible insurrection against Our Ministry, Sir Xavier," she formally declared as Hogan straightened himself. "We strongly doubt Our Ministry will do such a thing for her."

"Agreed. And Sir Glaston, Your Majesty?" he asked.

A nod. "He will also be so awarded. What of Lily, Hogan?"

A sigh. "So far, Hamilton has no idea what to do, ma'am. This is the first time EVER than anyone has been saved via the Desidero Infantis spell. From what Glaston once told me, Ryuuji Hirosaki himself dared not try to test it on a subject." He sipped his tea. "On the one side, what we believe are the remnants of the Killing Curse are still striving to finish the job Voldemort tried to do last night. Lily's chances of ultimately surviving the birth of her child are, in the doctor's eyes, slim to nil. On the other side, however, Glaston's magic is fighting to keep the baby in Lily's womb alive and well, thus ensuring that Lily herself remains alive to give birth." A helpless shrug touched his shoulders. "I can't say anything more."

"And maybe it's best not to speculate further," she noted. "What of young Harry? I confess I do not know the Ministry's laws concerning orphans."

"Well, in this case, it's questionable. I know through Napaeae that James and Lily selected Sirius Black as Harry's godfather, so he would possess a very strong case when it comes to claiming Harry as his adopted son. And I'm sure the Ministry will perhaps allow him to do that. James has no immediate living relatives and Lily's only living relative is her elder sister, Petunia Dursley. Who's a normal and is known to hate everything magical." He sighed. "Petunia and her husband Vernon live in Little Whinging, which is in Surrey just west of the M-25 motorway."

"What would stop Mister Black from adopting young Harry?"

A grim look crossed his face. "If -- as we believe -- he was the secret keeper for the Fidelius charm that was over Godric's Hollow until late last night, Your Majesty, that means one thing: He sold out two of his best friends and their child to Riddle. The Ministry of Magic does frown quite heavily on oath-breakers, ma'am. Especially people who break their oaths when it comes to THAT."

A nod. "So be it, then." A sigh. "Well, other than the tragic loss of Sir Glaston, I think we weathered this whole incident quite well."

"Except one thing, ma'am."

"Being?"

A sigh. "Napaeae told me this, ma'am. Last night, just before he moved to use the Desidero Infantis, Glaston released the locks of the Kokujun in Somerset which made him the only user of the power of the ward stones in that county. That's to be expected in cases like that; you've seen it many times when previous Magical Shire Reeves have retired and been replaced. This allowed Napaeae to deal with Riddle's companions while she was there. But he did not utter the specific release spell that would allow us to seek a new Magical Shire Reeve to serve Your Majesty in Somerset."

She gazed at him. "Which means?"

"That the magic that gave Glaston overall control over the Kokujun rune stones in Somerset is now part of that wild mix of magic currently active in Lily Potter's body. And will, I am more than sure, be then passed on to her child once said child is born." A sigh, and then Hogan wryly smiled. "For the first time ever, someone is going to be BORN to be one of Your Majesty's Magical Shire Reeves, ma'am."

The Queen blinked. "I see . . . "

* * *

To be continued . . .