After his meeting with the Prime Minister, Krum summoned
Hermione and Percy. They walked out of the building and
Disapparated. Krum took them to a cottage in Scotland, far away
from prying eyes. Once they were all seated in the living room, he
looked at them with critical eyes.
"You both have worked with me for three years in order to bring
Harry Potter down," he said. "I have come to trust you, and I hope
neither of you betrays that trust."
"Never, sir," said Hermione passionately. "We are as motivated to
stop Potter as you are!"
"Good," Krum nodded. "Then you must do exactly as I say, and we
can end the threat of this dark wizard for good. For one, Potter is
now the Supreme Chancellor; the leader of the I.C.W is only
powerful if he has his people backing him. Unfortunately, Potter has
tremendous support internationally. Even before he was elected, he
and his wife had a firm grasp on various politicians. As you can see,
he surrounded me with his allies, without me even knowing about it,
and managed to throw me out. He is cunning and manipulative, and
has to be treated with extreme caution."
"What do we do about him, sir?" asked Percy swiftly.
"Getting rid of Potter is my task," explained Krum. "You leave that to
me. However, you have to realise that just because Harry Potter is
killed, it doesn't mean the crisis will end. Daphne Potter has enough
prestige and influence to immediately take over. They are doing their
best to brainwash the masses, making them see Muggles in an
unfavourable light. I realised what Potter's mission was three years
ago – he wants to become the ultimate ruler of the magical world; in
short, their dictator."
Percy frowned. "That's what Grindelwand and You-Know-Who tried
to do."
"And you think Potter is any less than his predecessors?" Krum shot
back. "The fact that he managed to take over the I.C.W. proves how
effective he is as compared to Grindelwald and Voldemort. I will not
stand for it. He will do his utmost best to wage a war with the
Muggles. He's nothing but a petty child who can't get over the fact
that he had a miserable childhood. That brat fails to understand that
he is not the only one who was rendered an orphan because of dark
wizards. I was too, and yet I'm not like him. I've tried reasoning with
him multiple times, but it just doesn't do the trick. If one were to
observe the pattern of his moves over the last ten years, you'll
realise that he's doing everything he possibly can to oppress both
wizards as well as Muggles."
"Mr Krum, do you really think he'll be the cause a full-scale war
between wizards and Muggles?" asked Percy.
"I'm sure of it," Krum nodded. "Hermione, what is the status of your
research project?"
Hermione smiled proudly. "I've been successful, sir," she proclaimed.
"I've managed to make magic work on Muggle devices."
After Harry Potter had forced the Confederation to amend the
Statute of Secrecy, Krum had realised that the young man's goals
might be more towards Muggle oppression that he realised. Why
else would Potter want the Muggle-borns out of the way? He had
spent many sleepless nights trying to find out what his enemy's goal
was. After pouring through volumes that recorded Gellert
Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort's rise to power, he noticed a
pattern. All dark wizards seemed to work in a similar manner.
They recruited people when they were at school. Potter had done
the same. Children of important Ambassadors like Su Li, Parvati and
Padma Patil, Cho Chang, Blaise Zabini and Anthony Goldstein had
all been brought into his circle. Along with that, he had support
locally through Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones and Draco Malfoy.
After school, he slowly gained strength while doing his best to
remain in the shadows and once he was ready, he rose in power and
destroyed his enemies.
All dark wizards had an agenda; if one were to observe the
ideologies of the recent rogue wizards, they all had one thing in
common – their hatred for Muggles.
Harry James Potter was no different.
Krum took a deep breath. "Good. Very good, Hermione," he praised.
"I know that you were unhappy about quitting your job at the Ministry,
but it looks like your efforts have paid off. I knew you could do it."
Hermione was beaming.
"Sir, why did you ask her to focus on making magic work with Muggle
technology?" asked Percy, frowning. "Is it to protect Muggles from
Potter's wrath?"
"Partly," Krum nodded. "The other reason is that I want to stop Potter
at the root. Remember, the rest of the magical world thinks Potter is
as pure as a Unicorn. We know the truth. We have no support
among the wizards except for a few select ones. If Potter were to
brand all Muggles as enemies of the magical world, which member
of the government would have the courage to question him? With the
help of the Confederation, he can raise an army and attack the
Muggles. The Muggles will not able to stop it because they have no
idea what they're fighting against. And what are we going to do? Sit
on the sidelines? I think not!"
"Sir, I thought you have a plan to get rid of him soon?" asked
Hermione curiously.
Krum smiled. "I am a pragmatic man," he said wryly. "We don't know
if that idea will come to fruition. If it does, we can avoid all this. But if
I'm unsuccessful in stopping him soon, we'll need to fight Potter in
every way possible. Remember Hermione, the lives of hundreds of
millions of wizards and several billion Muggles are on our shoulders.
Potter is doing his best to start a war, just like Grindelwald did, only
to seek power for himself."
"As for why I asked you to devise a method to integrate magic with
Muggle technology, that's because we're going to do just that."
"You want me to improve Muggle military technology with magic?"
exclaimed Hermione, stunned beyond belief.
"Is that even possible?" asked Percy, looking bewildered.
"Sir, the Muggles have military bases everywhere!" cried Hermione.
"Potter could launch an attack today! How are we to prepare for all
this?"
"I know, and I have a solution for that," interrupted Krum. Saying so,
he flicked his wand, summoning an ornate box from within his
bedroom. After disabling the protective enchantments, he opened
the lid, revealing a golden chain with an hourglass.
It was a Time-Turner.
"There is a great deal of corruption in the lower levels of the
Department of Mysteries," Krum chuckled. "At least, that's how it was
ten years ago. They became increasingly closed off after the
Obscurial incident."
"H-How did you acquire this?" whispered Percy. "I thought they were
strictly controlled by the department."
"Potter recovered most of Unspeakable Bode's possessions during
the attack. However, there was an incident that took place a few
days later that led to some of the items being destroyed. It was
chalked off as exposure to chaotic magic, but in reality, I paid a hefty
sum to one of the maintenance wizards in the department to steal it
for me. She was later Obliviated as per our agreement. This was one
of the things I recovered."
Hermione's eyes widened. "But sir, paradoxes –"
"Not to worry, these won't affect the timeline," Krum said
dismissively. "Time travel is more complicated than you think.
Algernon Croaker has spent decades studying it. Just because you
use a time-turner doesn't mean you can rewrite history. If that were
possible," he laughed softly, "then all our problems wouldn't exist.
Unfortunately, time-turners don't work that way. They are heavily
enchanted and also have a great many restrictions on them. The will
and magic of time come into play, similar to that of a magical
contract. You can't simply manipulate it to your will. These timeturners
will not allow you to alter any major incident in the timeline."
"Then what is the purpose of this?"
"Just because we can't change any significant event that took place
doesn't mean we can't prepare," Krum explained. "My contact has
informed me that he can make the time-turner work in such a way
that it can take us back in time by about a year. Maybe more, if we're
lucky. We need to modify their military equipment during that period.
We cannot let Potter destroy the world as we know it! We're going to
stop him here and now, with the help of the Muggles, if necessary.
That's why we'll be doing this. Rest assured, Potter will do something
similar, only he won't expect the Muggles to be prepared."
Silence dominated the room as Krum allowed the information to sink
in.
"Percy, you are to contact every person on this list," said Krum,
handing him a sheet of parchment containing a long list of names.
"They're all talented witches and wizards who are not fooled by
Potter. They will surely help our cause."
"I will get right on it, Mr Krum," said Percy as he Disapparated with a
crack .
Hermione felt hope well in her chest. Finally, things were moving in
the right direction. With their combined effort, Potter would stand no
chance. Of that, Hermione was sure.
"Let's hope we aren't too late to take care of this mess," Krum
sighed, rubbing his temples. "If we lose …"
"We won't lose, sir," Hermione said fervently. "We have you as our
leader. We'll succeed because we know we're doing the right thing
by stopping Potter. Maybe we should name our rebellion after the
person he hates most. What do you think of Dumbledore's Army ?"
Krum's head shot up, his eyes burning with the desire for revenge.
He licked his lips, baring his teeth as he said, "That's a great idea. It
is quite fitting for a group dedicated to fighting Gellert Grindelwald's
successor. To Dumbledore's Army!"
"To Dumbledore's Army!" repeated Hermione.
"There is something else I want to tell you," Krum said seriously.
"Should something happen to me, I want you to lead the rebellion.
You are a capable witch, Hermione, and you're also the best person
for the job since you are a Muggle-born and know the intricacies of
the Muggle world. I want you to listen to me very carefully."
Hermione nodded.
"My gut tells me that Potter will attack soon. With so much influence
over the members of the Confederation, it won't be difficult for him to
raise an army. Once we have modified the time-turner, I want you
and my allies to work with the Muggles to improve their weapons.
Potter will surely have something up his sleeve. We have to be
unpredictable if we are to defeat him."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Hermione seriously.
"The problem Muggles faced during the war with Grindelwald and
Voldemort was that they didn't know about the existence of magic,"
explained Krum. "That's why they couldn't fight back. But now,
should Potter attack and should the situation get out of hand, I want
you to make contact with the Muggle version of the I.C.W – the
United Nations."
Hermione understood immediately.
"With the heads of all their countries knowing about the existence of
magic and with the enhanced weapons we have at our disposal, we
can end any sort of war before Potter gains a high ground," she
exclaimed. "With Potter and his top aides defeated, everything can
go back to how it was!"
Krum sighed in relief. Finally, someone had enough common sense
to comprehend what he was saying!
Potter Castle
It was nighttime. Harry was sitting at his favourite spot by the lake,
leaning against the trunk of a tree. The stars were twinkling in the
night sky, with the reflection of the full moon seen in the dark waters
of the expansive lake. In the distance, bright lights illuminated Potter
Castle, giving it a breathtaking appearance. Small balls of light were
suspended at various points all over the grounds, providing enough
brightness for him to see.
Bodyguards.
Even after three years as Chief Warlock – a position from which he
had resigned recently – and as the new Supreme Chancellor, he
never got used to having bodyguards. The Black family was
accustomed to it, having bodyguards since the time Sirius was
elected as the Minister of Magic back in 2003. The members of the
Potter family, however, were not used to so many Hit-Wizards
positioned at various points throughout the castle and grounds. It
was overkill, Harry had protested, but Dylan had overruled him.
Though in all fairness, he could not blame his brother. Seventeen
assassination attempts (Harry had lost count, but Daphne and Dylan,
apparently, had not) would make anyone paranoid.
His gaze caught the figure flying above the lake. His eyes narrowed
as he realised the problem.
"No, Bella. You need to tilt the broom slightly," he instructed, his
voice enhanced using a Sonorus charm. "A perfect Sloth Grip Roll is
executed only when you achieve the precise balance."
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" yelled Belladonna from above.
She was flying the Firebolt, hanging upside down as she tried to
execute a Sloth Grip Roll. She huffed in frustration.
"Relax, princess. Take a deep breath and try again . Don't give up;
you're making good progress."
Belladonna sighed and shouted back, "I'll go for a spin and come
back, Daddy. I'll try it later."
With that, she zoomed away. Normally, Harry wouldn't have ever
agreed to give something as fast as a Firebolt to any child. Even
Rigel had been complaining that he was never allowed on the
Firebolt. But Belladonna was different. She was perhaps the most
gifted flyer he had ever seen. Such talent shouldn't be wasted and
hence, he was determined to train her well.
"They grow up so soon, eh girl?" whispered Harry as he stroked the
dark feathers of the royal phoenix. The creature trilled softly, butting
its head against Harry's hand. He smiled. This was the same
phoenix he had rescued nine years ago, when the Bode and
Barebone had captured the creature, using its powers for their own
benefit. The royal phoenix had taken a shining to Harry and had
decided to find him and stay as his companion.
The creature's feathers were as black as the cosmos, with the tips
bright orange, as if they were lit with flames. Dark eyes gazed at
Harry fondly. Harry was mesmerized. The royal phoenix, originally
the size of a Thunderbird, was now the size of Fawkes. Apparently,
the creature that represented the magical element of space could
change its size. Beyond the obvious affinity with the vacuum of
space, the royal phoenix was said to have the most melodious voice
on the planet. The magical properties of its songs were still a
mystery.
After the creature had shown up a few years ago, Harry had
meticulously read Dumbledore's book on phoenixes, paying attention
to the late headmaster's assessment on how to identify their age.
After observing the royal phoenix, Harry had come to the startling
discovery that the creature was still extremely young – practically a
fledgeling – and had yet to go through its first burning day. It then
made sense to him as to why the bird had been caught by Bode and
why it had been contained despite great legends of its impressive
magical feats; the poor phoenix was still discovering its powers. It
was like an infant, learning to crawl.
Wanting to name his new female companion, and after much
research, Harry had chosen a word from Sanskrit – Chāyā , which
translated to shadow. Dark, stealthy and powerful, the royal phoenix
was as fond of Harry's family as they were of her.
"See you tomorrow?" he whispered. The phoenix trilled softly before
disappearing into a dark vortex.
"Daddy?"
Harry blinked. Belladonna had landed next to him, her emerald
green eyes filled with concern. "What's wrong, Daddy?" she asked.
"Nothing, Bella, I'm fine," he muttered.
"Uh-uh," she shook her head, sitting on his lap and cupping his face
with her hand. "Something is bothering you. What is it?"
Harry smiled faintly. He would have to tread carefully here if he were
to get some answers he desperately needed.
"I'll tell you if you answer my question, princess. Deal?"
"Deal!" smirked Belladonna, fist-pumping her father.
"Tell me, what's going on with your brother?"
Belladonna stiffened slightly but calmed down almost immediately.
"Jamie's fine," she said dismissively. "All he does is read. I'm telling
you, there's no need to send him to Hogwarts, Daddy. He'll probably
finish his education by the time he's eleven."
"That's pushing it, even for a genius like him, but you know as well
as I do that I wasn't referring to James. I was talking about your twin
brother."
"You know, it's past dinner time. We better get back inside or Mum
will be furious."
" Bella! "
"Sorry, Daddy, but I can't say anything without breaching the trust
Charlie has placed in me," Belladonna muttered, turning away.
"Sibling confidentiality, you know."
"That's what James said as well," frowned Harry. "How is it that
Charlie acts perfectly normal around you two, but not with us or
anyone else? We're his parents!"
"Maybe you should ask him."
"Bella, your mother and I have been trying for months to get him to
talk to us about what's bothering him!" Harry replied in exasperation.
"He barely smiles these days. He's practising magic at a rate that
can be harmful to him and nothing we say gets into his head. What
happened to the bubbly young boy that was my oldest son? Why is
he acting like this?"
Belladonna sighed in resignation. "How else would he act, Daddy,"
she whispered, "when everyone he interacts with outside the family
compares him to you and Mum?"
Harry froze. Things clicked into place. "He thinks –"
"He thinks he's not good enough to be your son. When I told you that
we don't like attending those social events held at the Ministry, I
meant it. People tried the same with me, but when they realised that
I could talk back, they stopped. James is always attached to you or
Mum wherever we go, so no one bothers him. Charlie isn't like me.
He may look tough, but he's a softie! People constantly compare him
with how you were at our age. That's why he keeps pushing himself
so hard. I've tried talking to him, but you know how he is. Charlie is
like Mum. He has a mean temper and after a while, I decided to
avoid that topic. He made me promise that I wouldn't tell you both
about this. He's not mad at you; he only wants to make you proud."
"We are proud of him! Of all of you!"
"I know," Belladonna smiled. "But he's not willing to listen."
"If you promised him not to tell me, then why –"
"He's my brother, Daddy. Sometimes he does stupid things that
make me want to throttle him, and we do bicker constantly, but that
doesn't mean I love him any less. We share a lot of secrets with
each other. We're close. I can't ever stand to see him unhappy.
Please, Daddy, please talk some sense into him!"
"I will," Harry exhaled.
Finally, he had a lead. He and Daphne had been flying in circles for
months , trying to understand what was troubling their beloved son.
But now he knew.
"Now it's your turn," she said, tapping the tip of his nose. "Talk!"
Harry chuckled. "Your mother is still mad at me because I forgot our
wedding anniversary last month. I don't know how to appease her."
"You do know that she's toying with you like always, right?" asked
Belladonna incredulously. "I know for a fact that Mum doesn't care
about such things."
Harry smirked at her. "And who said I'm not toying with her? Don't
tell anyone, but I've arranged a special dinner for her tonight; a
picnic by the lake, under the moonlight. What do you think?"
Belladonna laughed as she pinched her father's cheek playfully.
"There may be hope for you yet, Daddy."
Charles Potter might be a nine-year-old boy, but even as a wizard,
he was quite large for his age. A Muggle would comment that he
resembled a thirteen or fourteen-year-old instead. Standing five feet
eight inches in height, an expressionless face with clothes torn and
scars on his body, he looked less like a child and more like a
seasoned warrior.
Eight-year-old James Potter stood next to his mother, looking at his
older brother worriedly. As usual, he had a thick book clutched in his
hand. Unlike the well-built Charlie, James was much smaller in
stature. He looked fragile and childlike. But his eyes were always
glinting with intelligence well beyond his years. Daphne was sitting
on the sofa next to her son, muttering under her breath as her wand
danced in the air, healing Charlie's injuries.
Daphne looked at her son worriedly. She had tried to be
understanding and was doing her best to find out what was wrong
with her son. But when he returned injured, which mother would be
silent?
"Do you have something to say?"
Charlie remained stoic. "What do you want me to say, Mum?" he
asked quietly.
"I want you to tell me what you were thinking, picking a fight with
Lucas Smith. When we enrolled you in a school for sword-fighting, I
didn't think you would come home like this! " she yelled. "Charlie,
why are you acting like this? I've tried speaking to you about this for
months! What's bothering you? What have I done wrong? Do you
hate me, Charlie? Is that why you're constantly acting out like this?"
Charlie's face softened. Turning to face his mother, he wrapped his
arms around her neck and embraced her tightly.
"I could never hate you, Mum," he whispered. "I love you!"
Tears stung her eyes as Daphne gently caressed her son's face.
"Then please tell me what's bothering you. You're always doing
something rash and unpredictable, which, more times than not, puts
your life in danger. You're studying and training hard, and I'm very
proud of you for that, but you're becoming reclusive. And now you do
this!"
"Mum, relax. I'm fine. I wasn't in any danger."
"You call this not being in danger? This scar on your chest is deep.
You nearly got impaled by the sword, didn't you?"
"I admit, Lucas got a few surprising nicks on me. It's nothing bad."
"That was not a small cut! Had your bodyguards not found you in
time, you and Smith could have died! Do you enjoy being in pain?"
"They're exaggerating, Mum. Besides, high pain tolerance is
essential to becoming a great warrior like you and Dad," Charlie
said, his voice trailing off at the end.
Daphne frowned. Her oldest had always been the most athletic of
her children and was fascinated with magical duels and sword fights.
But for several months now, he had become increasingly withdrawn.
Both he and Belladonna spent more time learning Offensive Magic
and they had already moved on to learn wanded subjects from their
instructors, who all, naturally, praised the twins' wand work.
In their spare time, while Belladonna concentrated on flying, Charlie
attended other classes that interested him. His master in swordfighting
and martial arts had said that Charlie had begun to work
three times harder than before since the beginning of the year. He
was emotionally closed off than before too. The Mind Healer Harry
and Daphne had consulted said that Charlie was not depressed, but
was still dealing with something that troubled him greatly, making
him act out. The reason for which, however, was still unknown.
Why is he acting like this?
The wards tingled and Daphne immediately turned towards the door.
Harry and Belladonna entered the informal drawing room. The
former stopped in his tracks when he saw his oldest son. Belladonna
quickly moved towards her twin brother, giving him a soft hug,
conversing with him and James in quiet tones.
"What happened?" demanded Harry.
"Our son decided to challenge an older boy, Lucas Smith, to a duel,"
said Daphne quietly, "and nearly got himself killed in the process.
Not only that, Smith had to be taken to St Mungo's for treatment."
Before Harry could open his mouth, the wards tingled once more.
One of the Hit-Wizards entered the drawing room and saluted
smartly. Harry spoke to the woman softly and nodded. Within two
minutes, the Floo in the entrance hall of the castle flared up and
Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was ushered inside.
Bowing respectfully to them, Kingsley spoke in a deep voice, "Your
Excellency, Lady Potter, Lucas Smith has been admitted to St
Mungo's Hospital for treatment but the Healers have assured me
that he will make a full recovery. Unfortunately, Lord Smith did not
take the attack on his grandson lightly. He's filed a complaint against
your family. As part of the investigation, I'm here to question your
oldest son."
Belladonna and James clutched each of his arms tightly. Charlie
didn't even flinch as he looked at the tall and imposing Auror. His
green eyes observed his parents. His mother looked worried. His
father, however, had a mask on his face similar to his own.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie began.
It was nearly eleven in the night and Daphne was pacing. The cool
night air that entered through the large windows didn't seem to
soothe her nerves. Finally, the door opened and her husband walked
in.
"How did it go?"
"Lord Smith has agreed not to press charges," sighed Harry as he
undressed for bed. "And I control the media. The case is closed. You
should have seen Zacharias Smith's face when I arrived. The only
reason he didn't attack me is that he's terrified that I'd curse him into
oblivion."
"How did you convince them not to press charges?"
"It's not like Lucas Smith was innocent, you know. Both of them were
at fault. Our son wasn't badly wounded because Charlie is more
talented with a sword than Lucas. But for kids their age, they
certainly fought viciously. Had it gone any further, however, the
situation would have been a lot worse."
She bit her lip. "You need to talk to him," Daphne exhaled. "Harry,
something is wrong with my baby boy, I know it! I've tried everything!
Please, Harry, you have to find out what's wrong."
"I understand," he said quietly. He turned on his heel and made his
way to Charlie's room. When he was within one foot of the door, he
sensed the wards informing his son of his presence.
"Come in."
Charlie had already divested himself of his clothes, nude and ready
for bed. Even though he was healed, the scars had not disappeared.
Harry entered the room and shut the door. Absentmindedly, he
summoned the jar that contained the salve that made scars
disappear.
"Lie down on your back," he instructed. When the boy did so, Harry
gently rubbed the salve on his son's body.
"What does Grandma Amelia have to say about this?"
"I don't know," confessed Harry, "because I haven't told her yet."
Once he was finished, he pulled his son up and engulfed the boy in a
tight hug. Charlie immediately melted into the embrace and Harry felt
warm tears trickle down his chest.
"Charlie, what's wrong?" asked Harry soothingly. "Why are you
acting like this? You don't socialise anymore, you restrict yourself
only to your siblings and you practice magic and sword-fighting at a
level that can be harmful to you. You rarely smile these days. What
happened to the boy who demanded that I smile all the time?"
His question was met with silence.
"Come on, kiddo. Please, Charlie? Your mother and I have been
trying for months to get you to talk to us. But you don't listen. Why?
Have we done something wrong?"
Tears pricked the eyes of the young boy as he held on to his father
tightly, sobbing heartbreakingly. Harry gently rocked him back and
forth as he tried to calm him down. Conjuring a glass wandlessly, he
filled it with water and gently placed it at Charlie's mouth, urging him
to drink. After a few gulps, he calmed down slightly.
"Now tell me what happened."
Charlie swallowed. "It's not easy being your son, Dad," he
whispered. "Everyone compares me to you. My instructors, my
friends at martial arts class, different people I meet at various events
– everyone ! They all expect me to be like you. And if I don't perform
admirably …"
Harry exhaled. "Charlie, I understand what you're going through."
"No you don't," he muttered.
"Yes, I do. Being the son of James and Lily Potter wasn't easy for me
either. When I came to Hogwarts, all my teachers judged me. When I
was sorted into Ravenclaw, they judged me. When I wasn't a
prankster, even your Grandfather Sirius judged me. Forget about
me, Charlie, do you know how difficult it was for your Uncle Dylan to
survive in school, known to everyone as the illegitimate son of the
notorious Death Eater Rabastan Lestrange?"
Charlie was silent.
Harry kneeled down in front of his son. "Look," he said softly. "I know
it's not easy. That's why I never pressured you into anything. Please
don't listen to them. You are Charles Potter. You are not Harry Potter.
You are your own person. And you're special just the way you are.
Don't let anyone tell you differently."
The boy nodded slowly.
"What caused you to –"
"I heard you and Uncle Dylan talking about the war. I thought – well
– if I was as strong as you and Mum, then maybe people won't be
disappointed in me."
"Charlie, look!" Harry said firmly. "Your mother and I are extremely
proud of you. You do not need to seek validation from anyone else.
Which nine-year-old wizard is as proficient with a sword as you? Or
in offensive magic with a wand even before formal wand-based
schooling? I'll tell you … no one! Not even I was this talented at your
age!"
"Really?" asked Charlie in surprise.
"Yes," smiled Harry, running his fingers through his son's dark-blonde
hair. "You are exceptional, much like your siblings, but realise that
you are all different in your own ways. This is something I told James
as well. I don't care if he isn't good at Quidditch or if he can't ride a
broom properly. He's special in that he's exceptional when it comes
to knowledge. The books he reads now are the ones I had read at
the age of thirteen! The same goes for your sister. I certainly couldn't
fly like that at her age! You're our children, and your mother and I
love you just the way you are. Now tell me, why did you attack that
boy?"
Charlie's face darkened with anger.
"Lucas called you a dark wizard and compared you to the likes of
Voldemort and Grindelwald," he spat. "He said that you're a bad man
for that law you enacted a few years ago and that one day, they'll
arrest you and toss you through the Veil of Death. I – I couldn't
control my temper, Dad. How could he say something like that to my
face? I'm younger than him, and I still know that should the situation
be reversed, I'd never say the same to him. I just lost it then and
there and – well – I had a sword in my hand and used it to attack
him."
Harry rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "Charlie, please don't
think I'm encouraging you to speak this way," he sighed. "But you
have to realise that Zacharias Smith is an idiot. Lucas is only
spouting what his parents and family members speak at home. He's
just an eleven-year-old boy. And the Smiths are people who don't
matter. They're known for being arrogant jerks with a superiority
complex the size of a Hungarian Horntail. That's how they are. Not
everyone will agree with my policies. They may be good, they may
be bad, but idiots such as they won't understand where I'm coming
from. Should I succeed in my endeavour, history will remember me
as a great leader. Should I fail, I'll be branded as the worst Dark Lord
that existed on the face of the Earth. Right now, I can't think about
what people might view me five hundred years in the future. Given
the troubled situation today, I will do what I must to protect my
people. Let history be the judge of my actions."
"Charlie, the I.C.W. has rescued nearly fifty thousand Muggle-borns
living in Muggle areas, nearly all of them abused because of their
powers. What does Smith know about living in such conditions, huh?
Ask me and Dylan, we'll tell you! Or ask Jacen, he'll tell you what life
was like, living in a Muggle orphanage before being adopted by the
Greengrasses. Yes, what I did was harsh. And I admit there are
Muggles who don't mistreat their children, even after they show
signs of accidental magic. They even love their children dearly."
"My own grandparents fell into that category, but even though I knew
that, I still had to take a call. I can't pick and choose which children
can fully integrate with the magical world and who can't. The law is
universal; it applies equally to everyone. The same law that applies
to the common witch and wizard applies to the Supreme Chancellor
as well. That's why my idea was distasteful to many. But this
amendment was necessary. A lot of good has come from this law. All
those Muggle-borns have been blood-adopted and are in stable
homes around the world. Through this amendment, we have
achieved complete secrecy. It has worked for the safety of the
magical society at large. Politics is dirty, and it influences kids too.
That's why I've kept you three informed about what's going on."
"Except you didn't tell us about this impending wizard-Muggle war."
"Well, you didn't need to know about that just yet," frowned Harry.
"Stop eavesdropping; it's a bad habit. My point is that you shouldn't
let such people rile you up. Unfortunately, you've inherited your
mother's temper. And with that, you need to be careful. Let them call
me a dark wizard. Charlie, who cares? I don't want to sound egoistic,
but do they even realise the fact that I'm the Supreme Chancellor of
the I.C.W? Do they know that your mother is the Vice-Admiral, the
global deputy head of the Department of Mysteries? Their threats
are ridiculous! "
"I'm sorry, Dad," Charlie said, looking guilty.
"You nearly got yourself and Lucas killed today," Harry said quietly.
"Be grateful that you're not being dragged to your grandmother's
office, or worse, the Council of Magical Law, for this. Had something
happened to either of you, there could have been serious
consequences!"
Charlie swallowed. Only now did he realise that what a huge blunder
he had made. "What's my punishment?" he asked, dreading it.
"You're grounded for a month. You'll have no access to your broom,
E-Mirror, swimming pool or anything else. And no desserts at dinner
time too. Twice a week, you'll have to clean the stables without
magic. You'll get up early every morning to train with me and Uncle
Dylan. Your sister has already agreed to do the same, but unlike her,
you don't have a choice. No compromises, is that clear?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Good," Harry nodded. He observed his son's face. "There is also
something else."
Charlie looked up curiously. His eyes widened when he saw a flash
of golden light. A ruby-encrusted sword materialised in his father's
hand. He recognised it instantly.
"You are the scion of the Peverell Clan," Harry said softly. "I've held
on to this sword for long enough. It's time that I passed it down to
you. Use it well."
The Potter heir looked at the sword in awe as he carefully took it
from his father. It was masterfully designed, with the handle
encrusted with rubies the size of eggs, and the three-foot-long blade
made of goblin silver. He knew that this sword meant a lot to his
father. He had killed Salazar's basilisk with this sword; he had killed
the Dark Lord Voldemort with this sword. It had been further
charmed by Harry, creating a barrier to ensure that the venom
wouldn't kill anyone unless the user wished for it. On the blade, just
beneath the hilt were the words –
"Godric Gryffindor," whispered Charlie, closing his eyes and bringing
the sword to his forehead in respect for his great ancestor. He looked
up, only to see the smiling face of his father.
"It's yours, Charlie."
Charlie swallowed heavily. Placing the sword on his desk, he
grabbed his father in a tight hug, unable to convey his thanks in
mere words. Harry rested his chin on his son's head, closed his eyes
and smiled.
"Ready?" Daphne inquired. She grabbed her shrunken bag and
placed it in her pocket.
Harry nodded.
"You'll be good for Mummy, won't you?" cooed Dylan. His onemonth-
old daughter, Athena Lestrange, simply gurgled at him.
Astoria smiled softly. "I doubt requesting her will do the trick, Dylan."
"Oh, you never know," said Dylan, cuddling his daughter and making
funny faces for her. "Maybe if we ask, she'll finally let her Mummy
and Daddy sleep without interruption."
"Doubtful," she laughed.
"Behave, you three," Daphne said sternly, looking at her children.
"We'll be gone for a couple of days. Listen to your aunt, okay? And
for Salazar's sake, don't get into trouble! She's not in a state to
chase you around the castle."
"Yes, Mum," nodded James fervently. Belladonna chucked at her
little brother's antics, giving him a one-armed hug. Charlie gave a
curt nod.
After another round of hugs and kisses, Harry, Daphne and Dylan
took off into the air. Flying to an appropriate height, they twisted in
mid-air and Disapparated.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
"Where exactly is the home of the Elves, Master?" inquired Harry.
"And how are we getting there?"
They were at the southernmost tip of the South American continent.
Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel were leading them, with him in the
middle, and Daphne and Dylan bringing up the rear.
"If we tell you, that'll ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?" asked Perenelle.
"No offence, my Lady, but I would prefer to know where we're going.
That's why I asked."
"Relax, chela ," said Nicolas. "Here, take this rope. It's a form of
Elvin Portkey. It should take us to our destination."
Daphne and Dylan looked at each other wearily. They all grabbed
the rope and a few seconds later, they felt the air compress around
them, very similar to how house-elf Apparition felt like. However, this
lasted longer. After a few uncomfortable seconds, they all landed on
their feet, their surroundings covered in a blanket of snow.
Dylan immediately flicked his fingers, casting a charm to detect their
location. His eyes widened in surprise.
"We're in Antarctica!" he declared.
Harry raised an eyebrow. Daphne, Nicolas and Perenelle, however,
seemed confused.
"What's Antarctica?" frowned Daphne. "I've never heard of it."
"This continent is the home of the Elves," explained Perenelle.
"Welcome to Terkum ."
" Terkum ?" Dylan whispered to his brother.
"Antarctica is the Muggle term to denote this place, little brother,"
Harry said quietly. "In the magical world, it's known as Terkum – the
southernmost continent."
The group of five walked in silence for several minutes. Daphne
whispered to her husband, "Do you sense it?"
"The enhanced magical activity? Yes, we're close. Dylan, relax.
We're not going to be attacked."
The younger man was searching the surrounding area for emerging
threats. "Force of habit," he muttered. "Besides, you can never be
too careful."
After fifteen minutes, they were taken through a barrier, the
protective enchantments letting them through. Their eyes widened in
surprise. They had entered a city. The buildings, unlike the enhanced
magical stone used by wizards, were completely made of magically
enhanced ice that was as strong as stone. They sparkled in the dim
sunlight. Daphne touched the outer wall of one of the buildings.
"It's cold but not as cold as I expected," she observed.
"They're temperature controlled," Perenelle told her. "Elves prefer a
cold environment. This has been our home for millennia. You'll find
several other cities like this spread throughout the continent. There
are settlements in the north too, starting from Northern Canada to
Eastern Siberia, well beyond any wizarding dwellings. That area is
called Udichum ."
"The Arctic?" asked Dylan. Harry nodded.
As they walked through the high street, many of the Elves cheered
and welcomed them, bowing to Harry with respect. The young Lord
Potter felt very uncomfortable with this.
"Looks like they're all fans of the Boy-Who-Lived," muttered Daphne.
Dylan snorted in amusement.
At the end of the high street, the palace was visible. Unlike wizards,
the Elves preferred simplicity. It was a large but modest residential
complex, with Elvin guards everywhere. What made Daphne curious
was that there were no house-elves here at all. If all of them were
the same, why weren't they here too?
The Queen of the Elves was ancient looking. Wrinkles dominated
her face. Dark-blue completion, like the rest of Elves, with large,
pointed ears and orange eyes was a stark contrast to the silky white
robe she was wearing. Her crown was a mixture of ice and pearls,
affixed with exotic flowers.
Having always been extremely sensitive to magic, much more than
what was considered remotely normal, the Queen saw something
strange when the three humans stood before her. Their auras
seemed to be linked together. In fact, she could see black in Harry,
white in Daphne, and grey in Dylan. She could see more, with one of
them shrinking, looking like a little boy as he stood in-between the
couple. The three of them seemed to fill the room with their mere
presence alone. It was as if Mother Magic herself had come before
her.
Blinking, the Queen forced herself back to the present. "Lord Potter,
Lady Potter, Lord Lestrange. Welcome to Terkum . Please take a
seat."
"It's an honour to meet you, Your Highness," Harry bowed, followed
by his wife and brother.