Harry Potter and the Icemaidens

Hogwarts . . .

"So Petunia and her family are alright?"

"Yes, Albus, they're quite fine," Severus stated. "Under magical oaths to keep silent about their benefactors' identities and purposes; it's the very same type of magical energy that shields all of Little Whinging, in fact. Arabella Figg is also affected by this; Petunia warned me about it before I came back here. I couldn't confirm things through Legilimency, of course, but I'm more than competent enough in reading people's faces and words to see the truth there. Vernon and Petunia are very repentant over what happened to Harry and truly wish the best for him. And they're strongly convinced that whoever took Harry away from them have his best interests in mind. People who take life-oaths loathe doing otherwise, don't you agree?"

The headmaster nodded. "Yes, you're right about that. Tom never inspired that sort of loyalty with his followers, even the more extreme ones like Bellatrix." He paused to eat a lemon drop as he considered that, and then he nodded. "Well, we'll let things go at this time and trust to the better angels of their nature . . . " -- He always did like Abraham Lincoln's way with words. -- " . . . to keep Harry safe."

"And Vernon's letter to the Prophet?"

A nod. "I'll speak to Barnabas about this tomorrow. Publishing this letter, I believe, will go far to convince many in our society that muggles aren't the monsters many secretly fear they are; even those who hide their fear behind a cloak of 'respect' for muggle rights. For the fanatics that support Tom's views, I doubt there'll be a change, but most others will see what happened and understand."

Severus nodded. "I wonder if any of those people came here."

Albus perked. "What do you mean?"

"The people who were behind Romney Marsh and what just happened to Harry," the potions master explained. "Could they have been Hogwarts graduates?"

A nod. "Most likely, I believe. Why do you ask?"

A sigh. "Albus, much that I can respect -- even admire! -- the people who pulled off what happened in '79, then later dealt with Rosier, you have to admit that we don't know their agenda. If the Dark Lord does come back as you fear and we have to fight him again, knowing what our allies are ultimately after is important."

The elderly headmaster considered that for a moment, and then he nodded. "Yes, you're right about that, Severus. But where would we begin such a search?" He shrugged on asking that, and then he sighed. "Still, I am loathe to try to pry into people's personal business. And what of this oath you mentioned they took? Would our trying to learn more about them actually threaten them in some way?"

Severus hummed. "That is a point."

"Agreed. And we can infer by what just happened to Minister Bagnold's attempt at restraining Remus from seeing Harry that these people clearly do see peaceful and respectful relations between various parts of our society -- between ourselves and other magical species, and between ourselves and the muggles -- as truly a good thing. I can respect that . . . No! I ADMIRE that, in fact!" Albus sternly declared as he stared at his friend. "And if they learned that HERE, Severus -- no matter HOW they learned it! -- then . . . " He paused before smiling. "Then I truly have hope for us all."

The normally dour Severus could only nod in understanding. "I can support that, Albus. But there's a part of me that still is screaming out . . . "

The door flew open. "Albus!"

Albus jolted. "What is it, Minerva?!"

The transfiguration mistress handed him an envelope. "This just arrived at the post office box we have at the Mount Pleasant sorting office," she declared.

He took it, gazing at the front of the envelope, noting it was directly addressed to him at his office at Hogwarts. No return address or stamp. Placing it on his desk, he drew his wand and waved it over the envelope, muttering several spells as he tried to scan what might have happened to it before it had been deposited in Mount Pleasant. "Amazing," he breathed out, a touch of real admiration in his voice. "Again, not a single magical reading on this envelope that I can detect."

"Like the one from last year," Severus warned.

Minerva tensed. "Oh, Merlin! You mean the one that came . . .?"

"After Daniel Rosier was found dead in Knockturn," Albus finished as he took up the letter and opened it, pulling out the single page there. As Severus and Minerva circled around the desk so they could glance over his shoulders, he began to read:

Headmaster Dumbledore,

It is with heavy hearts that we find ourselves forced to communicate with you in this manner again because of a problem that has its origins concerning the security and safety of the knowledge contained in the Roll Book at Hogwarts.

Just this day, another supporter of the arch-traitor who styles himself 'Lord Voldemort' was caught attempting to murder normal-born children -- one of which who has not even seen her first birthday -- to ensure they would never have the privilege and honour of taking classes at Hogwarts. And again, one of us was forced to use very extreme measures to ensure this traitor did not succeed in her monstrous task.

We do not like taking lives like we did with the traitor Daniel Rosier last year. It is a hateful act, but necessary given that those who backed Lord Voldemort do, even now, present a clear and present danger to Her Majesty's magical subjects throughout the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, especially those who have yet to learn of the wonderful gift the all-seeing Fates granted them at birth.

Again, we strongly urge you to place maximum levels of protection around the Roll Book. We are aware that Voldemort's chief assistant, Lucius Malfoy, is now part of the Board of Governors and thus has unlimited and unrestricted access to the Roll Book. Please, for the sake of those poor children who do not understand what is in their very own bodies and souls, shield the Roll Book or we will have no choice but to employ extreme measures against the arch-traitor Malfoy and all those who bribed their way out of the embrace of Her Majesty's Prison Azkaban with gold.

We are aware that the arch-traitor Voldemort is alive though currently without a physical body to use thanks to what Lily Potter did to protect her son Harry. This is why we have taken him under our protection until such time as he is ready to attend Hogwarts. We are prepared to help you as we did at Romney Marsh in 1979 should the arch-traitor return to threaten us anew. We are prepared to fight if needed, though we cannot press it as we are few in numbers and have other responsibilities vested to us by oaths taken by our ancestors and predecessors over the last several centuries.

Again hoping for a peaceful world in the future, we remain.

May your magic remain strong and pure.

Farewell for now.

A pause. "It is unsigned," Albus declared.

"Interesting."

Albus and Minerva looked at the head of Slytherin. "What do you mean, Severus?" the latter asked as she crossed her arms.

"Whoever these people are, many of them might be muggleborns," Severus stated as he gazed on the head of Gryffindor. "Did either of you notice how the letter was phrased? 'Her Majesty's magical subjects throughout the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.' 'Her Majesty's Prison Azkaban.' I know we all do still answer to the Crown even through the Ministry, but scant few of us . . . "

"Acknowledge that even privately," Albus finished for his friend. "Yes. And they did confirm that they realise Tom is alive and might be returning. And they have pledged us their support if Tom does return to cause more trouble."

"Who do you suppose it was this time?" Minerva wondered, a touch of a growl in her voice. The concept of actually hurting a defenceless CHILD of all things made her stomach turn. "There were a lot of Riddle's people who got away."

A sigh. "I fear we must wait for the morning and the news from Knockturn, Minerva," Albus stated, his own eyes flashing with outrage. Like his deputy, the headmaster just couldn't begin to comprehend attacking a helpless child. And for the simple reason of denying that child the right to a magical education because he or she was born of muggle parents! "In the meantime, ask Filius to join me in the antechamber, please. I think it's high time we do as our friends suggest and ensure the secrets of the Roll Book are not violated again."

She nodded as she turned to leave the room . . .

* * *

Diagon Alley, Thursday 21 August 1986 . . .

"Great Merlin, Professor! Is this for real?!"

Albus chuckled. "It is that, Barnabas. Vernon Dursley is protected by the wards now shielding Little Whinging even when he leaves town; Grunnings' local factory is in the Thorpe Industrial Estate just across the M-25 motorway from Little Whinging itself, outside the ward boundary. I scanned the letter after it was brought to me and could tell that he was quite serious about his feelings over what happened." He gave Barnabas Cuffe, the editor of the Daily Prophet, a look. "I hope you will be able to replicate the letter's contents as precisely as it was written."

A nod from the former Ravenclaw (Class of 1947) as he gazed over the letter, and then he looked at the list that had been made of the charms and curses that had been used on the Dursleys . . . and thus, had come to harm Harry so much. "It should cause no harm, I think," he stated. "People have started to bombard us with owls. Screaming about Harry Potter's safety, wanting to know where he is and if he's alright. I've already sent Rita Skeeter to Gringotts to learn anything from the goblins. If anyone can find out anything about someone's fate, it's them."

"Yes, I was about to go down myself to talk to Chief Director Ragnok and see if he would let some information go free about Harry's family finances. Even a basic 'No comment. We protect our clients' privacies' will say much, agreed?"

Barnabas laughed. "Yes, that's true!"

"A favour, though."

"Being?"

"Would you please not let Rita write the story about this letter? Forgive me for saying this, but I do find that she does take sensationalism a little too far."

The editor smiled. "Quid pro quo, Albus." The headmaster nodded. "The people who took Harry away," Barnabas stated as he straightened himself. "Are they the same ones responsible for what happened in Romney Marsh in '79?"

Albus stared at him. Barnabas was a pureblood, but he had never subscribed to the "exterminate all mudbloods" agenda Voldemort had championed. Yes, he had buckled in to pressure from the Ministry of Magic -- the Ministry could bring down all forms of censorship by decree right from Millicent Bagnold's office AND owned a small percentage of the Daily Prophet's net worth -- when things had really got bad in the latter part of the war. But he also had a son, Ulysses, who had married a muggleborn girl from Wales, Katharine Lyons, shortly after their graduation from Hogwarts in 1975. Both currently lived in the wizarding village in Romney Marsh. "Yes, I do believe they are the same people. They also are the ones who dealt with Daniel Rosier last year."

Barnabas nodded. "Then the House of Cuffe owes these people, whoever they are, an honour debt we will never forget, Professor. Kathy fully accepted our ways and does her best -- even now! -- to respect our culture even if she does still hold on to what she learned from the muggle world." He smiled. "I even met her parents before they died in a motorcar accident some years ago. Charming people all around. Understanding of us and our desire to stay separate from their world." A shake of his head. "If only all muggles could be like the Lyons." A smile. "And the Dursleys, too."

"Indeed if only," Albus said with an approving nod. "But there are very foul apples in our courtyard as well, Barnabas. We must all clean our courts before lowering the fences, I believe. I trust this makes you quite happy."

"It certainly does, Professor . . . "

The door to the editor's office crashed open. "Chief!"

"Stop calling me 'Chief,' Braithwaite!" Barnabas growled as one of the newer reporters on the "Prophet" staff, Betty Braithwaite -- Class of 1982, a Gryffindor, Albus immediately recalled -- stormed into the room. "And knock next time!"

"But Chief, I . . .!" Betty then stopped as her jaw dropped on seeing who else was currently with her editor. "Professor Dumbledore!"

Albus turned on his patented grandfatherly smile immediately as he stared at her. "Good morning, Miss Braithwaite. What seems to be so exciting today?"

A sigh. "Another crucifixion of a Death Eater, Professor. In Knockturn."

Albus blinked as Barnabas' jaw dropped. The editor then pointed out the door. "Get down there and go check it out, then!" he ordered. "It's a story! Get on it!"

"Yes, Chief!" And she was out of the room.

"Stop calling me 'Chief!'" he screamed after her.

Albus smiled. "I best get over there myself," he warned.

Barnabas smirked in return. "I hope they don't stop."

"They would prefer if they never had to do it again."

The younger man stared at him, and then smiled. "Is that another story, Albus?"

"One I regretfully cannot release at this time, my friend."

Barnabas held up a finger. "One day in the future, I hope."

"As do I."

* * *

Knockturn Alley, minutes later . . .

"Excuse me. Excuse me, please. Ah, good morning, Auror Shacklebolt!"

Kingsley Shacklebolt blinked on hearing that voice, and then he turned before a light smile crossed his lips on seeing the aged sorcerer pass through the crowd of gaping onlookers and the ring of Aurors now guarding his crime scene. "Chief Warlock Dumbledore," he greeted Albus with a respectful bow before gazing once more on the corpse nailed to a wooden cross right in the middle of Knockturn in front of Borgin and Burkes. "A most nasty business, I must confess," he then admitted.

Albus looked, and then he shook his head on recognising yet another soul lost to Tom Riddle's madness. "Helena Gibbon," he sadly stated on recognising the face, which appeared quite peaceful despite the obvious spell damage to the left arm, where the remnants of the Dark Mark -- as before when he had seen this, twisted and mutilated -- was burned onto her skin. "Have you been able to identify any sort of magic on her body when she was discovered? When was she found, anyway?"

"Just after dawn," Kingsley replied. "And no, we found nothing. Just like what happened to Daniel Rosier last year." The tall Auror -- he had graduated from Hogwarts the year Voldemort fell, so he had not been in the Order of the Phoenix, though he had been a good candidate for same -- was disguising it well, but the headmaster was quick to sense his true feelings about this death: Another child-murderer taken down once and for all! "We'll conduct a full investigation, of course, but I doubt we'll find anything. Would you please excuse me, sir? I need to get the body moved."

"Of course, dear boy. I apologise for intruding on you."

Kingsley nodded as Albus turned to walk once more through the crowd. He was quick to note the scared looks on many people's faces, especially those who lived in Knockturn. Given the alley's dark reputation -- and knowing that Tom Riddle's post-Hogwarts quest to fully evolve himself into Lord Voldemort had started at the very bookstore now to his left as he walked back towards Diagon -- it was understandable. For so long, the forces of the Dark had acted with impunity when it came to striking down those they hated. Even if the people around him now hadn't fought for Voldemort, they had (for the most part) supported his goals. Even Voldemort's fall hadn't really changed their desires and hopes; it had, in essence, put them on hold for a time being until either the Dark Lord returned or another Dark Lord rose to take his place.

Daniel Rosier's -- and now Helena Gibbon's -- deaths had changed that. Hard!

"Professor Dumbledore?"

Albus stopped, and then he smiled. "Ah, Miss Braithwaite! Good morning. I trust you got what you needed for your story on this unfortunate incident?"

Betty nodded. "Enough to either make Page One or at least Page Two," she admitted. "What are your own thoughts about this incident?" she then asked as she moved to write down -- she was using a muggle pen and pad in lieu of a Quick-Quotes Quill as Rita Skeeter used with her interviews, Albus noted with approval -- his words.

"I totally abhor this type of death, even if it has now been revealed that Ms. Gibbon was a supporter of Voldemort," Albus said, ignoring the shudder in Betty's body on his saying that name. "Was this an act of vengeance over some atrocity during the late war? I pray not. Revenge is not a thing good people should seek even if they are struck hard by grief over lost relatives and friends." He paused to give her the chance to write that quote down before adding, "Vigilantism does not have a place in a civilised society, even if those they target are known or suspected criminals. We have a system of justice that has served us well these last few centuries." He paused again as she wrote that quote down. "To deny Ms. Gibbon her day in court is wrong in my eyes. She should have had her day in front of the Wizengamot. I only pray that whoever did this to her will acknowledge that and leave things be."

Betty wrote that down. "Who did it, Professor? Any ideas?"

A shake of the head. "Sadly, I cannot speculate on that and I refuse to do that at this time, my dear. It could possibly interfere in the Aurors' investigation and I don't wish to taint it with my theories and wild guesses."

She wrote that down. "So how do you think the victim was brought here to Knockturn from where she died without anyone noticing?"

"Again, my dear, I refuse to give a theory or guess at that."

She wrote that down, and then she nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

Betty headed off, her cameraman following her. Albus watched her, and then he nodded as he walked the last few steps and re-entered Diagon Alley. Pausing to gaze around him, he then nodded. While he had found it easy to lie to the young Prophet reporter about what had just happened, he did understand quite well the need to do just that. He knew the war against the forces of the Dark was still on; it was presently just in intermission thanks to what happened to Voldemort five years ago. But given the chance -- and there would be chances, he knew -- it would flare again.

And given the Prophecy . . .

Albus shook his head. While he himself had considerable doubts about Harry Potter's muggle relatives when it came time for him to move the orphaned child to Little Whinging from Godric's Hallow five years ago, he hoped that he could give the poor boy something of a childhood before Destiny came crashing down on his head as soon as he came to Hogwarts in five years' time. And noting that deep down, Petunia and Vernon Dursley were good people at heart -- and people who simply wanted some control over their lives and fates, as all people did, magical and muggle alike! -- he hoped that a chance would come that Harry would be able to return to Little Whinging and reconcile with his uncle, aunt and cousin (if that hadn't have happened already). One of the things Albus had been afraid of was the fame that came with the moniker "Boy-Who-Lived" . . . and how much energy and faith the people of the wizarding world were willing to pour into that moniker and what it would mean for them as well as for Harry himself. How would Harry react to that? Would Harry's current guardians inform him of what had happened five years ago and how wizarding society had reacted to it?

How would he react . . .?

"Professor Dumbledore."

He perked on hearing that voice, and then turned as a woman in a hooded black cloak came up to him. A quick glance to her left breast revealed a complex coat-of-arms on the cloak, surmounted by the Queen's personal cypher and underlined by crossed duelling wands. Surprised by such an insignia -- it was one he was unfamiliar with -- he then gazed into the woman's face before recognition dawned. "Miss Snagge!" he gasped as Nancy Snagge smiled at him. "How are you, my dear?! I haven't seen you since James and Lily helped you relocate to Godric's Hollow! That was . . . "

"Seven years ago," Nancy said, gently grasping his hands in her own as her heightened senses quickly picked up something closing in on them from the direction of Gringotts. Well, well, well. A certain illegal beetle animagus who can't keep her nose out of other people's business, she mused to herself. "I was actually going to have some coffee over at Cructan's. Would you like to join me?"

"Well, actually . . . "

Albus then paused as he felt Nancy's middle finger trace out the initials H.P. on his palm. Seeing the knowing look on her face, he smiled. "I suppose I could enjoy a good cup of coffee before returning to Hogwarts." He then offered his arm to her, which she gladly took. "A little break away from the office does wonders, really."

"I'm glad," Nancy said as she guided the headmaster down the street . . .

* * *

Nancy Snagge. Known werewolf and a former Auror who was bitten by Fenrir Greyback himself before You-Know-Who was killed. Known friend to the Potters; they supported her after she got drummed out of the Aurors when she was turned into a werewolf, the transformed Rita Skeeter mused as she followed the couple down the street towards Cructan's, a coffee shop that had been recently opened close to Gringotts by a couple who had introduced the wonders of a beautiful brand of coffee -- named "Tim Hortons" for some odd reason; Rita still had to get that story -- to the citizens of Diagon. So what is she doing here with Dumbledore?

Shuddering with anticipation, the blue beetle raced after them . . .

* * *

Albus tensed on smelling the wonderful coffee -- he had visited Cructan's a couple times before after it had opened and (thanks to friends from Canada's own magical academy, the Institute of Science and Magic) he HAD learned of who Tim Horton had been; such a terrible tragedy to befall such a gallant sportsman, indeed! -- that was currently percolating in the cauldrons behind the counter. He then smiled on seeing the store owner, Henry Cructan, gaze his way. There was a small group of people there. "Professor Dumbledore! Nancy!" he called out. "What will you two have?!"

"One large with two cream and two sugar, please," Albus stated.

"One extra large with two milk and four sugar," Nancy said. "And a room."

Henry nodded. "Right away, you two."

Albus blinked on seeing the coffee shop owner produce a small key similar to the skeleton keys used by clients of Gringotts, handing it to Nancy. Soon enough, two mugs of the delightful brew were made and handed over to the customers. Nancy gave Henry the six sickles and sixteen knuts the coffee was worth, and then she took the key and beckoned Albus with her. Both walked upstairs to the upper floor of Cructan's, where there were private rooms for people to enjoy the coffee and spend time with friends; in effect, the coffee shop offered many of the services of the Leaky Cauldron, but didn't delve into providing meals or overnight accommodations. Reaching one room, Nancy unlocked it, and then beckoned Albus inside. Quickly sensing where the transformed Rita Skeeter was, the werewolf smiled as she gazed on the oncoming beetle.

"Kouhiitenjun: Animagus Revelio."

She grinned as the beetle froze in mid-air, turning away just as it shifted into Rita Skeeter's human body, the reporter then dropping face-first to the floor! Before the stunned Rita could say anything, Nancy walked into the room, closing and locking the door behind her. Once that had happened, Rita looked dizzily up . . . to find herself staring into the face of Henry Cructan's wife, Allana.

"And what, Skeeter, are you doing in our coffee shop harassing our customers?"

Rita blinked before she passed out . . .

* * *

"Ms. Skeeter, I presume."

"Afraid so," Nancy said as she joined Albus at the window to gaze on Diagon Alley and the skyline of the area along Charing Cross Road beyond the many muggle-repellent wards that protected the main commercial district of British wizarding society from outside view, even from satellites in space. "I don't know if you know her little dirty secret, but she uses it pretty much to her advantage whenever she's sniffing for a story. My being a lunar canine therianthrope is known to most people and I was known to have stood up against Riddle and his arse-kissers."

Albus perked. "'Lunar canine therianthrope?!' I've never heard of a werewolf being addressed quite like THAT before, Miss Snagge! Who created that term?!"

A tender smile crossed her face. "The man who gave me my life back, even more so than James and Lily did, Professor: Glaston Tore."

He stared at her, his jaw dropping in surprise and delight, and then he smiled. "Glaston! Now there's a name I haven't heard for quite some time! How is he?!"

Nancy closed her eyes. "He died five years ago."

Albus blinked, and then sadness crossed his face. "How terrible."

"Not as terrible as you might think," she advised him before staring intently into his eyes. "Glaston was there when Riddle attacked the Potters. He sacrificed his life and magic in a spell the Traveller taught him for a very special occasion."

"What occasion?"

Nancy breathed out. "To save an unborn child."

Silence.

"My God!" Albus gasped. "Lily was . . .?"

"Four months pregnant with hers and James' daughter when Riddle came."

Hearing that, the headmaster seemed to age fifty years at once. "Oh, dear . . . " he breathed out as he walked over to sit on one of the couches lining the wall of the room. "Oh, dear! Lily, I'm so sorry . . . " he whispered, closing his eyes.

"The child is alive."

More silence.

Albus stared wide-eyed at her. "WHAT?!"

Nancy smiled as she reached into her robe to pull out a small vial of blood and a sheet of parchment, handing both to him. Albus took it, and then he read the note:

Name: POTTER, Rose Jamie

Sex: Female

Born: 17 March 1982 (Wednesday), 5:18 AM

Sire: POTTER, James William (deceased)

Dam: POTTER (nee EVANS), Lily Elizabeth (died at birth)

Albus gaped. "Merlin! So that's what happened to Lily's body! The Aurors said . . . " He then stopped to stare at Nancy. "How was she kept alive?! We knew three Killing Curses were fired by Tom when he came to their house . . . "

"Desidero Infantis," she answered. "The Lost Child spell. When you cast it, you use the Japanese translation of it: Sousetsu-shi. It's a spell Elder Ryuuji specifically created when the caster senses an unborn or newborn child is in dire danger and there's just no other choice but to sacrifice all to save the child." She took a deep breath. "Since Rose was five months away from being born -- she was a beautiful baby, I'll tell you that -- that certainly qualified for this spell." A sigh. "Since it's a one-time use spell, no one -- not even Glaston -- had any idea what would happen when he cast it. But by God, it worked like a charm!"

He nodded, a grin crossing his face. "I see. I'd find it hard to believe that Lily had another child. No other child from her and James has appeared in the Roll Book." He then stopped as he stared at the capped vial that the werewolf had just given him, and then he nodded. "Ah, I see now. No doubt, Rose is shielded in such a way that even the charms of the Roll Book cannot sense her." He slipped the vial in his robe pocket before sipping his coffee. "I'll make sure the Book is updated."

"And make sure it's safe, too."

Albus stopped, and then he stared at her for a moment. "I see."

Nancy sighed. "Professor, believe me when I tell you this: All of us involved in our -- well, I'll call it an 'alliance' -- do want to tell you everything about what we are, who we actually are and why we can do what we do. And why we can get away with it. But you're right now politically the second most powerful and influential person -- in many ways, you ARE the most powerful and influential person -- in wizarding society today. We don't want to compromise you in front of the public; that would be disastrous. Your positions make you a prime target for Riddle's idiots that aren't cooling their arses in Azkaban right now. Right now, they're all laying low -- save for bastards who want to murder innocent babies to ensure they didn't get the chance I got and go to Hogwarts! -- but when that snake-faced bastard child of a doped-up normal and a squib comes back, they're gonna be on the move. We all know that."

A nod as Albus sensed the first true relief he had felt since James and Lily died and he had been forced to relocate the orphaned Harry with the Dursleys. "Your support is more than appreciated, Nancy. Tell me: Is Harry with Rose?"

"He is. Lily's sacrifice and Glaston's are now mixing together. It'll make one hell of a protective shield in case Riddle comes after them."

"And Remus Lupin is now with you, correct?"

"He is."

"Are you taking precautions for the full moon?"

Nancy smirked. "Remember Doctor St. John?"

Albus gaped. "Hamilton?!" He then laughed. Another good man he thought had died thanks to Voldemort, but had survived in the end. "How is he?!"

"He's well. Working on improving the Wolfsbane potion using some of his ideas. My pack-mates and I -- there are seven of us now with Remus -- are benefitting from it. So are the other packs that are under the protection of our friends." Nancy shook her head. "No way in hell will Greyback be able to muster them to his side."

"Can you track Fenrir down?"

"He's out of the country at this time." Nancy then smirked. "Two years ago, he was leading a pack on an orphanage to make new cubs so he could rebuild from the losses he suffered when he fought for Riddle and his idiots. One of my friends decided to gild them all . . . " Her smile then turned savage. "In silver dust." As Albus winced on hearing that statement -- even if he himself was not a werewolf, he had used his Legilimency powers once to sense Remus Lupin's reaction to contact with silver; it was quite unpleasant -- the retired Auror added, "His pack died that night, but he was strong enough to survive and flee the country. No doubt he's somewhere far away, licking his wounds. If he comes back, we'll be ready for him."

He sighed. "A pity we must resort to such terrible measures."

"It's a war, Albus," she warned him. "A real war, just like what you fought against Grindelwald forty years ago. In war, there's only one rule in the end: Win it! Do you think Riddle gives a damn about what he does to people who don't deserve it?" Nancy sighed. "I had all the dreams and all the illusions ripped away from me a long time ago, Professor. It hurt like hell -- in more ways than you can ever dream possible, sir -- but it made me see this wonderful world I was brought into all those years ago in a harsh and unforgiving light. And that makes me sad for those who still dream." She closed her eyes. "And it makes me -- makes us all -- determined to ensure there can be those who dream and can keep their dreams. That's why we do what we do."

Silence fell as the headmaster considered that. Nancy gazed on him, and then she drank the rest of her coffee. She then rose to leave, and then stopped before reaching into her robe to pull out a picture. "Here. Just keep this hidden, okay."

Albus took it, and then he smiled. Rose and Harry, Remus standing behind them both, in some sort of meeting hall whose location he couldn't recognise. The Potter siblings were waving at him. "How beautiful," he whispered.

Nancy smiled. "Take care of yourself, Professor."

"Nancy?"

She stopped. "Yes?"

"Please tell Remus one thing."

"What is it?"

Albus sighed. "I am convinced that Harry, once he comes to Hogwarts, will be forced to face Tom and his people almost as soon as he walks through the main gates." He stared at her. "I so much want him to have a childhood. To enjoy it. To play and be happy like other children. I also hope he won't allow his fame to get to him."

"You mean that whole 'boy-who-lived' nonsense?" At his nod, she laughed. "Don't worry about that, Professor. Want to know what Rose said when she was first told about how people think of her brother?" As Albus blinked, Nancy made a face as she slipped her voice into a very good imitation of Rose Potter's speech. "'What's wrong with people, Auntie Nancy? How could Harry do all THOSE things people say he did?! He couldn't even walk or talk! Are they a bunch of dunderheads?!'"

Hearing that, Albus gaped, and then he laughed.

Oh, my! Severus will DEFINITELY love to hear this one!

* * *

Hogwarts, later . . .

"She said THAT?!"

Albus nodded. "Yes, Severus, she did!" The four heads of houses and Poppy Pomfrey were enjoying afternoon tea with their leader as Albus relayed news. "I was able to sense Miss Snagge's surface thoughts when we talked. The inner parts of her mind were well shielded thanks to her affliction -- and, I believe, her affiliation with our mysterious friends, as well -- but what she said about Rose is true! I dare say she might one day become the new terror of the dungeons if you ever retire!"

Severus blinked, and then he roared with laughter. "IF she becomes a potions mistress, of course!" Pomona Sprout then affirmed as she gazed on the picture that Albus had brought with him from Diagon Alley. "If she's like her mother, she'll excel in Charms, I believe." She then smiled as she handed the picture to Filius Flitwick.

"Maybe," the head of Ravenclaw stated. "I believe that since Glaston is the greater spiritual influence here, young Miss Potter might excel in everything."

"A good point," Minerva mused. "Glaston was not so far behind Ryuuji Hirosaki when it came to academics. Applied himself to everything he dealt with."

"He was that good?" Severus asked.

"Oh, he was that!" Poppy said, and then she smiled. "Ah! Here we go . . . "

Everyone watched as black ink scrolled over a blank page in the open Roll Book, displaying the information Nancy Snagge had given Albus earlier on. "I was actually curious as to why there was an empty space in that location in the Book," the headmaster then said as the ink finished running and then dried. "No doubt, the charms on the Book did sense Rose's birth, but couldn't lock in well enough to get all the necessary information that was required. Probably because of Glaston's sacrifice."

"A good man," Minerva said. "Do we let that go public?"

"No," Albus affirmed. "Not until Rose comes to school. Most likely things might come out when Harry comes, but let's wait until then to see what happens."

Nods around the room. "Albus, I'd like to analyse this blood sample," Poppy then said as she held up the vial with Rose Potter's blood. "There's something here I've never really sensed before when it comes to a student or potential student and I want to make sure everything will be fine when she does come here."

"Can you tell what it is?" Filius asked.

The healer shook her head. "No, not really. I'll probably need help."

The charms master then nodded. "I'll be happy to help out. Severus?"

"Of course," the potions master affirmed with his own nod. "In her own way, Rose is as unique as Harry. She is the first victim -- actually, 'beneficiary' -- of a very powerful self-sacrifice spell that's never been used before. When she comes here, the news of her survival and how she survived will get out. We need to understand the effects of the Lost Child spell before someone gets it into his or her head . . . "

"To use it again," Minerva finished.

"Exactly."

Albus nodded. "Alright, then. Keep your investigations quiet."

Everyone nodded. "Is the Roll Book protected now?" Pomona asked.

"It is," Filius said, a touch of a snarl in his voice. He had been beyond outraged when Albus had told him of how Helena Gibbon -- and Daniel Rosier before her -- had been able to gain knowledge from this book in an attempt to murder helpless children. "I think I was able to copy the warding matrix from what now surrounds Little Whinging into the wards that will be around the Roll Book. I've yet to discover how we could reproduce the effect that was used at Romney Marsh, but I have a monitor charm on the area right now. If Lucius or anyone else gets near this book . . . "

The others in the room grimly nodded. "Perhaps the next time you see Nancy or Remus, Albus, you might ask them if their friends' power currently covers Hogwarts itself," Severus mused. "And how to properly trigger it."

Albus hummed. "I'll keep it in mind . . . "

* * *

Carlisle, Malfoy Manor . . .

"WHO DID THIS TO HER?!"

Lucius Malfoy sighed as he gazed in sympathy at Marcus Gibbon. They, along with a considerable group of friends, were gathered in the main reception room of the Malfoy estate. "I know, my friend. I know," the elder of the Malfoys of Cumbria said as he stood up to grip the shivering man's shoulder. "Believe me, I know. Losing Daniel last year was a hard thing for our cause. This is just as hard. But we can't turn away from what we've been striving to achieve because of this. Have faith!"

Marcus blinked as tears appeared in his eyes, and then he sniffed them back before nodding, and then he smiled as a sympathetic Alecto Carrow handed him a snifter of firewhiskey. "I'm sorry about that, Lucius," he said as he sipped the drink, and then he nodded to Alecto. "My thanks, Alecto." Walking to his seat, he sank down, and then nodded as Thorfinn Rowle patted his shoulder. "I know casualties was something we all had to be prepared for when we got into this in the first place. But still . . . "

"It always hurts," Thorfinn reminded him.

Marcus nodded. "Is there any idea as to HOW this happened?!" Amycus Carrow asked before he sipped his own glass of firewhiskey. "When they did the post-mortem on Daniel's body, they never found anything as to how he died or who did it to him!"

"Chances are, the D.M.L.E. decided not to look so hard," Alecto reminded her brother. "After all, the Master's mark was exposed for all to see when they found him in Knockturn. Another dead Death Eater. That's all they cared about," she spat out.

"No," Lucius said, shaking his head. "They did as full of an examination of Daniel's body as they could. Given the mysterious nature of his death, the actual post-mortem investigation was actually run through Cornelius' people with the help of the Unspeakables." Hearing that, the others in the room all perked. Cornelius Fudge was their man to become the next Minister for Magic and they were all prepared to do what they could to see him replace Millicent Bagnold. "I think that when they look at Helena, they'll find the same thing." A sigh. "We face a very powerful foe."

"But who IS it, Lucius?!" Walden Macnair demanded. "I've asked around about this since Daniel died. No one has a bloody idea who these bastards are! Not even the Unspeakables or the people close to Bones!" He exhaled as he drank his firewhiskey. "We need to find out more about them before we can stop them!"

"Agreed," Lucius said, nodding. "Thus, I propose this, my friends: We stop all attempts at going after the mudblood children for the time being."

Silence.

"WHAT?!" Alecto screamed. "You mean LET more mudbloods go to Hogwarts?!"

"If we do that, Daniel and Helena died for NOTHING!" Amycus snarled.

"WAIT!"

Silence fell as the patriarch of the Malfoy clan held up his hand. "I agree that this does run risks and it will allow more mudbloods to learn magic, which is always a bad thing. But Walden just made a very good point. We don't know ANYTHING about who we're up against and how they're able to get at us. We need that information to properly protect ourselves. If we don't get it, we'll all targets waiting for our turn to be nailed on a cross in Knockturn." As the people around him shuddered -- what had happened to Daniel Rosier had just been ghastly -- he took a deep breath. "We need to take time to gather information. And for that, we need to get control of the Ministry. To do that, we need Bagnold out. And we have the chance now to do that."

"With the Potter brat gone missing, you mean?" Lancelot Jugson mused.

Lucius smiled. "Exactly."

* * *

Unseen by any of the people in the reception room, a raven-haired girl of four stood close to the closed door, her head cocked to one side as she listened to the grown-ups talking in the next room. After a moment, she sighed before turning to walk down the corridor to the main staircase. Before she could head upstairs, a voice called out from the main library, "What are you doing, Cassiopeia?"

Stopping on hearing her aunt's voice, Cassiopeia Lestrange turned to smile at Narcissa. "I heard shouting from the reception room and I came down to see if Uncle Lucius and his friends were alright, Aunt Narcissa," she explained.

The older woman smiled at her niece. "They'll be fine, dear. Go back up to your room and continue your studies. We'll call you down for supper."

"Alright."

Cassiopeia went upstairs. Watching her, Narcissa felt pride surge through her. Bellatrix's daughter was turning out to be a virtual twin of her mother at that age. Already showing the signs of considerable magical power -- the incidents of accidental magic had gone past a dozen by the time the girl turned four in April -- she would be a powerhouse when she got to Hogwarts for the 1993-94 school year. Sighing as she found herself wishing Bellatrix was not in Azkaban so she could see the daughter she had been forced to give birth to in that dreadful place, Narcissa turned back to her book.

Meanwhile, Cassiopeia returned to her room, entering it to see her younger cousin seated on her bed, a book in hand. "So what was it?" Raven Malfoy asked.

A shrug as Cassiopeia walked over to sit on the bed beside Raven -- which had to be the oddest name to give the girl since her hair was as platinum-blonde as her parents' and her older brother Draco's, her eyes the grey of a cloudy sky -- before she picked up the book she had been reading. "It's your dad and all the others arguing about what happened to Ms. Gibbon," Cassiopeia replied. "They're still yelling about what to do with all the normal-borns that go to Hogwarts."

Raven blinked, and then she sighed. Like her cousin, she was also showing great promise when it came to magic, which made Narcissa and Lucius both very happy, even if it made Draco envious. "Why do they do that, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Worry about the normal-borns?" Like Cassiopeia, Raven found it impossible to say the word "muggleborn," to say anything of "mudblood." "They're wizards and witches too, even IF their parents were normals that don't have magic. Why?"

A shrug. "I dunno." Cassiopeia then blinked. "Do you think she's that way?"

Raven looked at her. "Who?"

"Rose?"

The blonde girl blinked, and then she shrugged. "I dunno. I know Grace is pure. Just like Lotti and Ariel are. Maybe Rose is, too."

"But what if she isn't?"

A shrug. "Who cares?"

Cassiopeia blinked as she took a moment to consider what Raven had said, and then she shrugged herself. "I guess you're right. Who cares?"

Raven gazed at her, and then both laughed . . .

* * *

To be continued . . .