Shrouded in darkness, Harry stood near the gate of a large estate, which was located near a village situated deep in the Albanian forest. Narcissa's information had proven accurate and had led Harry to where Lucius and Draco were staying-a small castle owned by the Morina family. The Morinas were Albanian purebloods loosely affiliated with Lord Voldemort and anything that seemed Dark. They did not necessarily take orders from the Dark Lord, but most Death Eaters knew that those who served Voldemort could find lodging and aid with the House of Morina during their trips to or through Albania.
From what Harry could ascertain, Wormtail had made use of the Morina's hospitality before Voldemort's orders that he was to be taken prisoner and returned to England had spread widely enough to make Wormtail's travel difficult. For the Malfoys, tracking Pettigrew this far had been child's play-especially since the Morinas had contacted the Death Eaters as soon as they had realized that they had given aid to a fugitive. Their alarm had been sounded too late, however. Pettigrew had possessed the good sense to disappear well before any Death Eaters could capture him.
Shortly after the Morinas had contacted Voldemort, Lucius had arrived with his son and promptly theorized that Wormtail must still be in the area. The reasoning behind this decision was unclear to Harry. However, Harry did suspect that Lucius's reasoning was motivated by his desire to have an excuse to use the castle as a base of operations.
Retreating from the gate, Harry faded into the forest. In the shadow of a large tree, he cast a number of shields and protective wards around himself before casting the image projection spell and guiding his incorporeal form past the castle walls, across the courtyard, and into suite of rooms that Lucius and Draco were occupying within the heart of the castle.
Harry ascertained that Lucius and Draco were both sleeping as he passed swiftly through both of their sleeping chambers. He then moved to the main sitting room where the two Malfoys did their conniving. They had spread various maps of Albania on the table along with lists of and notes on local magical families.
In the past days, Harry's tracking charms indicated that the Malfoys had not left the castle once. Given that none of Lucius and Draco's papers had been moved from their position the night before, Harry concluded that the Malfoys had made no progress in tracking Pettigrew. He even wondered whether they had even given their assignment from Voldemort a second thought in the more recent days.
Seeing that there was no point in lingering, Harry cancelled the image projection spell and found himself back with his body in the forest outside of the castle. He removed the protection spells and disapparated from the forest outside the castle to a clearing just outside the nearby village.
Careful to stay within the shadows, Harry moved through the village toward the small pub in which he had been able to rent a room despite his inability to speak the local language. Just before emerging from obscurity and into the bustle of the pub, Harry cast a number of charms on himself. His face and skin aged and hair lightened to gray while the rims of his glasses became thicker and adopted a tortoise-shell design.
Harry was now the harmless novel writer here in Albania to scope out the territory for his latest wizard/vampire novel. While publishers had not quite yet gotten around to publishing his prior works, he was sure that the manuscript on which he was working would be his big break.
Then, mostly anonymously, Harry entered the pub, shambled toward the staircase, and made his way up to his room where he warded his sleeping chambers extensively with protection charms before retiring to bed.
Announced by a faint popping sound, Bellatrix appeared in the basement of #2 Privet Drive and withdrew a small box from her pocket. Setting the box on the floor, Bellatrix waved her wand, and a quick enlarging charm transformed the box into a large trunk. Some more wand work opened the box and summoned from its seemingly bottomless depths a couple of dozen boxes of ceramic tiles along with a number of other construction supplies.
Just as Bellatrix finished unloading the trunk, the doorbell rang. Hastily, she shut the trunk and pushed it into a corner before running upstairs, casting glamour charms on herself with practiced ease. She opened her front door to find a Muggle contractor and his six employees standing on her porch.
"Mrs. White?" he asked.
"Yes," Bellatrix admitted, the timbre of her voice a little bit brighter than was normal.
"We're here for the work on your house," the contractor said, his eyes peering past Bellatrix at the inside of the house.
"Of course," Bellatrix said, swinging the door wide open and motioning for the contractor and his workers to come in. "I will show you everything, explain what I need, and then get out of your way for the rest of the day." She proceeded toward the basement, the contractor following her only after directing his workers to start unloading their equipment.
"I already explained to you what it is I want done in the kitchen, bedrooms, and living area," Bellatrix said as she stepped down the stairs, the contractor following her. "If you are faced with a decision regarding décor, use your judgment and know that I will reimburse you accordingly. I am not going to be very fussy about those parts of the house."
"Right," the contractor said gruffly, his voice reflecting a happy medium between being pleased at having free rein and annoyed at having to do more than follow precise design instructions.
"However, as I mentioned on the phone, I am going to be demanding when it comes to the basement's corner storage room over there," Bellatrix said as they reached the place where she had deposited the ceramic tiles and construction supplies.
"As long as your instructions are specific and make sense, there should not be a problem," the contractor declared as he tilted his head to catch a view of the room through the partially open door.
"Indeed," Bellatrix said, making a great show of ripping open one of the boxes of ceramic tiles. "I want you to cover the floor, walls, and ceiling with these tiles." She picked one up. "I understand that the normal practice is to allow plenty of room for grout. I do not want that. I want no space whatsoever between each tile. If the tiles are not even enough, cut, sand, or grind down the edge."
The contractor was nodding, though looking at Bellatrix slightly askance.
"However," Bellatrix continued, flipping over the sample tile, "you must not install any tile that does not have this design in its entirety on the back."
The contractor stepped closer to Bellatrix and looked down at the tile. An extremely complicated design of symbols and lines had been etched into the back of the tile near the center. "Very well," he said.
"Understand," Bellatrix said, "I will have a way of testing whether you have done this properly. If you have not done it properly, I will not be pleased."
"Never fear, ma'am," the contractor said, taking the tile away from her hands. "My boys can do a fine job of this. However," he said as he flipped over the tile and looked at the marble pattern, "if we focus on making sure your back symbol is proper, we're likely to have trouble with getting the top design lined up with each tile."
Bellatrix looked at the wavy marble design on the ceramic tile with a conniving smile. "That is perfectly all right with me. After all, it is just a storage room. It is not as if I have to stare at the walls all day."
"Of course, ma'am," the contractor said, returning the tile to the package from which Bellatrix had retrieved it.
Bellatrix nodded and motioned to several buckets near the boxes of tile. "I would also prefer if you used that material to glue the tiles in place."
"As you wish," said the contractor, looking at the buckets dubiously.
Bellatrix proceeded upstairs alone and made her exit, leaving the workers to their job. As she departed from her front yard, she noted that Petunia Dursley was watching the workers unload materials and equipment from one of the contractor's trucks. Bellatrix caught Petunia's eye and waved smarmily, knowing full well that Harry's pseudo-aunt would be embarrassed at being spotted and simultaneously jealous that she was not getting a new kitchen, bath, and basement dungeon.
"Your husband has been slothful!" Voldemort hissed, his pincer-like fingers wrapping around Narcissa Malfoy's throat and lightly squeezing. Her eyes bugged out as she tried in vain to take a breath of air. Eventually, wanting an answer, Voldemort loosened his grip slightly.
Narcissa let out a very loud gasp. Resisting the urge the hyperventilate, she spoke. "He has diligently been searching, my lord, I swear."
"He should have brought Pettigrew back by now," Voldemort intoned. "Instead, he sits and waits."
"I am confident that he has a plan to lure Pettigrew to him," Narcissa breathed out, knowing no such thing for sure. Desperately, she realized that she needed to sell the impression that that it was only a matter of time before Pettigrew fell into Lucius's hands. If Voldemort decided that Lucius was not likely to succeed, he would send someone else or go himself. Neither alternative boded well for Draco, even if Bellatrix could be trusted to exert her full efforts on Draco's behalf.
Voldemort continued to gaze at Narcissa as if he was savoring the terror in her eyes. Slowly, he let his hand drop before suddenly bringing it up and slapping her viciously across the face. "Tell Lucius that I want results-immediately."
"I will, my lord, I will," Narcissa whispered as Voldemort moved toward the center of the circle of Death Eaters gathered in one of the rooms of Malfoy Manor.
"You," Voldemort barked, suddenly approaching one of the Death Eaters who had the good fortune to be able to remain masked in front of his fellows. "What have you found on Ashworth?"
"Little," the Death Eater replied timidly. "Bellatrix Black, his alleged wife, has been seen in public several times. Professor Dumbledore even invited her to teach a class on dueling and the Dark Arts."
Narcissa closed her eyes. Please don't ask me about my sister, she begged as she watched Voldemort stalk among some of his loyal followers.
"It could be that Mrs. Black is behind these ghost attacks," one of the Death Eaters in good standing suggested.
"Perhaps," Voldemort acknowledged. "Perhaps." He paced silently, before suddenly turning to the masked figure that Narcissa knew was Severus Snape.
"What is known of Ashworth among your contacts?" Voldemort demanded.
"Still-nothing more than is generally known," Snape said. "They have interacted with Bellatrix Black. From what I gather, she is reticent concerning her whereabouts these past years and has said little about the late Professor Ashworth."
"The late Professor Ashworth?" Voldemort hissed questioningly, his whisper slicing the thick atmosphere like a razor. "Are you so sure that Harry Ashworth has passed on?"
Snape shifted almost imperceptibly shifted his weight, somehow maintaining his cool mask in the Dark Lord's presence. "Bellatrix Black is the same brat she always was. She has set her eye on something-perhaps political influence-and is using whatever resources she has to get it. In this case, she has the mysterious past of her deceased lover with which to frighten people."
"The symptoms of your diagnosis are certainly there," Voldemort said, leaving Snape and resuming his prowl amongst the Death Eaters that had been summoned to this particular meeting. "But there are other symptoms. At times, I can feel Ashworth as if he is lurking nearby-watching me and waiting to pounce. And the fiendfyre."
"Nearly anybody with a bit of power and a decent wand can set fiendfyre," one practical Death Eater declared tiredly, sounding as if he had said that phrase dozens of times.
"But it was his trademark! " Voldemort erupted, hissing at the Death Eaters and spinning to glare at anyone who might challenge him.
"My lord," came Rodolphus Lestrange's confident and eager voice, echoing in the chamber, "clearly, this is a ploy to knock you off balance. Given what you have told us about your final duel with Harry Ashworth, there is no possible way that he could have survived. Obviously, Bellatrix did. Fearing for her life, she no doubt fled with whatever money she inherited from her father. Have you considered that the Order may have found her and recruited her in a scheme to resurrect some ghost from your past? The Order is probably behind these mysterious ghost attacks. They are waging psychological warfare against you."
"Did you not hear me?" Voldemort nearly screamed, stalking toward Lestrange. "I can feel Harry Ashworth's presence. This is his work. I know it. He is waiting, getting ready to pounce."
"Then pounce first," Lestrange said boldly, seamlessly abandoning his tact that Ashworth was dead and moving to give counsel on what to do against Ashworth.
"I cannot!" Voldemort barked. "I cannot strike against him because none of you can find him. Find him!
"As you command, my lord," Lestrange intoned.
Harry woke with a start, rubbing his scar and groaning. For the first time in a long while, the scar's connection to Voldemort had been clear enough for Harry to hear what Voldemort was saying and hearing. It presented Harry an advantage, though the side effects were not welcome. It also presented reason for Harry to be nervous. From the time Harry had traveled to the past until now, the connection to Voldemort had largely been dormant with the occasional exception. If Voldemort became angrier and fearful more often, Harry reckoned he might need to find a newer and better way to cope with the connection.
Despite it being quite late, Harry rolled out of bed and walked to cramped closet that the pub owner had described as the restroom. He grabbed a painkiller potion vial from his toiletry bag, downed the contents, and washed the aftertaste down with a gulp of water.
After examining his scar in the mirror for a bit, Harry toddled back to the bedroom and took a seat on the edge of the bed. From a drawer in the room's desk, Harry withdrew a small sheet of parchment and a self-inking quill.
Dear Bella,
Still no sign of Pettigrew.
Harry stopped writing and frowned. How was he to explain the next thing he wanted to say?
If you find work for the ghost of Ashworth, be careful. I have reason to believe that Rodolphus Lestrange will be either following you directly or trying to understand the magic behind the ghost. Don't let your guard down.
With love, Harry.
Harry finished and folded up the note, leaving it on the table so that he would see and remember to mail it on his way out. Reluctantly, he got dressed and prepared for the day. If what he had seen was any sign of things to come, Lucius would be getting a sharply worded letter from his wife. It might even compel him to leave the Morina castle and make some token effort to search for Pettigrew. If that was the case, Harry needed to check his strategically placed forest wards and talk to as many snakes as possible before Lucius and Draco stirred from the castle.
"And to go along with my hot cider, I shall have a helping of fried fish," Rose Potter informed Madame Rosmerta.
"Will there be anything else?" Madame Rosmerta asked, eyeing Rose sideways.
"No, I believe that will suffice," Rose declared, producing a pair of sickles and placing them on the counter.
"Very well," Rosmerta said, her eyes moving from Rose and settling on Leo. "What will yours be, sweetie?"
Leo grinned amiably as he handed over a sickle. "Just butterbeer, thanks."
Madame Rosmerta accepted the sickle and then reached under the counter to fetch a bottle of butterbeer and fill a mug of hot cider. "The fish will be out in a bit," she told Rose as she handed over the bottle to Leo and the cider to Rose.
"Good," Rose said absently as she scanned the room.
"Which way did Ginny go?" Leo asked.
"I am not sure," Rose said, frowning.
"Wait, there she is," Leo said, pointing to a booth in one of the darker rooms of the Three Broomsticks. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere."
They made their way across the room to the booth and discovered that Ginny was not alone.
"Surprised?" Bellatrix asked. She was holding a blood lollipop and grinning at them from behind white teeth stained by red streaks. Interestingly, she had donned Slytherin robes and was lounging in them just as if she was a student. Leo had no doubt that she would go unnoticed by the students.
"Do those even taste good?" Leo asked, setting his butterbeer bottle down on the table and sliding into the booth, seating himself next to Bellatrix. Ginny had sat in the seat opposite Bellatrix. Not a fan of Bellatrix, Ginny was in the process of using her own butterbeer bottle to hide the sour expression on her face.
"They are an acquired taste," Bellatrix explained as Rose sat opposite Leo.
"You fit into your old school robes remarkably well," Rose observed in a neutral voice as she stared Bellatrix in the eyes.
"I bet your mom wishes she still fit in her old school robes," Bellatrix shot back.
"For all you know, she may still fit in her school robes," Rose argued.
Bellatrix looked at Leo. "Do you think Mrs. Potter still could fit into her old school robes?"
"Uh, no comment," Leo said smoothly.
"And how is your husband these days?" Ginny suddenly cut in.
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes and shot a chilling stare at Ginny before lazily drawing her wand and casting some privacy wards. "He is doing well," Bellatrix replied. "For all you know, he has his wand pointed at you this very instant."
"I doubt it," Rose said. "He knows we are friends and would sit with us if he was here, though he would probably use a disguise so as to ensure that the Order and Death Eaters remain confused about whether he is alive or not. Thus, given his absence at this table, he probably is not even in the vicinity of Hogsmeade."
"To be logical is not necessarily to be all-knowing," Bellatrix said flatly. "There is always the piece of information you do not know or the human emotion that defies logic."
"It gets me far enough," Rose replied, ignoring her hot cider and not even noticing as Madame Rosmerta walked by the table and slipped her tray of fried fish onto the table. "The fact that you are here indicates that you are prepared to let us assist you in your husband's fight against the Dark Lord."
"It is my fight, too," Bellatrix snapped.
"Phrase it as you will," Rose said dispassionately, suddenly discovering the presence of her fried fish and taking a bite.
"What can we do, then?" Ginny asked in a slightly sharp tone of voice.
"I am in the market for more things like that diary," Bellatrix said.
"We don't really run across You-Know-Who memorabilia that often," Leo told Bellatrix.
"True," Bellatrix admitted. "However, you are uniquely situated. You parents are members of the Order. You might hear things that I would find interesting."
"We are not going to spy on our parents for you," Ginny declared.
Bellatrix ignored her. "You are also uniquely situated because you are inside Hogwarts. The Dark Lord spent a lot of time at Hogwarts. Some of the people you know were acquainted with him while he was at Hogwarts. Talk to those people. Try to trace his movements. Search the Chamber of Secrets more thoroughly for secrets. Keep track of everything you learn and report to me."
Rose was frowning. "Do you think there is something like the diary hidden in Hogwarts?"
Bellatrix paused for a moment. "The part of me that is a strategist says no. I am mainly interested in understanding the Dark Lord better."
"This sounds like awfully boring work," Leo said.
"Come see me in the summer, and I will see if I can find you something more exciting," Bellatrix offered. "Meanwhile, you will have to be content with what you can do from inside of Hogwarts."
"What unique characteristic will other objects like the diary possess?" Rose asked, staring at Bellatrix intently.
"Objects in which I am interested will have emotional value to the Dark Lord," Bellatrix explained. "They will also be surrounded with powerful defenses and have highly complex, Dark enchantments on them. If you stumble on one, do not even touch it. Contact me immediately."
"What about Professor Dumbledore?" Ginny asked.
"What about him?" Bellatrix challenged.
"He should be the one to take care of something that dangerous." Ginny opined.
Bellatrix shrugged. "I guess that is your decision, Weasley." Pointedly, she turned her attention back to Rose and Leo. "Focus on finding information about the Dark Lord. Get firsthand accounts. Take note if anybody mentions specific locations for which the Dark Lord may have sentimental feelings. Harry and I will visit those places and search them. If it is summer by then, perhaps we will take you along."
"Fair enough," Leo said. "We'll let you know if we stumble on anything."
"Thank you," Bellatrix said, sticking the blood lollipop in her mouth and crunching down on it. "Now, if you would be so kind as to let me out of our booth, I will be on my way."
Leo obliged her, and soon the trio was alone. Sitting back down, Leo looked at Rose who seemed to be deep in thought. "So… is such an object located inside of Hogwarts?"
"We shall have to see if I can see," Rose said slowly as she munched on a piece of fried fish and stared off into space.
Apparently, Voldemort's words of encouragement had reached Lucius and Draco, for they had departed from the Morinas' hospitality and had "tracked" Pettigrew to another village. In actuality, they had proceeded down a road leading to a village located slightly deeper in the Albanian Forest. Despite the fact that the village boasted a denser magical population than the previous village, the Malfoys were obliged to take residence in the local pub because there were no exceedingly rich families in or near the village and because these villagers were far too removed from the British conflict to have taken sides anyway.
Harry doubted that Lucius and Draco were following a trail, but he still approved of the move. The snakes near Morina Castle and the adjacent village had not seen any rats that possibly could be Pettigrew. Detection wards and visual observation of the surrounding area, town, and magical families had also failed to turn up any sign of Pettigrew. If he was in Albania, he was in some other village-possibly even this one, or nearby.
The fact that Lucius and Draco were staying in the local pub did complicate things a little bit, however. It meant that their rooms were just down the hall from Harry's room and their breakfast table was adjacent to Harry's breakfast table.
Sipping a cup of tea, Harry eyed Lucius and Draco from over the top of an Albania newspaper Harry was diligently pretending to read, though he supposed he could get away without the ruse. After all, Draco hardly paid attention to anyone else in the room, and Lucius was preoccupied with a list of magical families in the area.
"I think we shall start with the families further out and work our way in," Lucius told Draco. "Unless we detect immediately that they are kindred spirits, we shall merely satisfy ourselves with a few questions."
"What's the point?" Draco asked. "We're never going to find him."
"He cannot stay hidden for long," Lucius said smoothly. "Besides, we must be able to demonstrate that we have made our best efforts."
Harry decided that he was sick of the newspaper and promptly folded it up. Taking a last sip of his tea, Harry stood up and departed from the dining room, leaving a few extra knuts as a tip for whoever cleaned the table. With a little bit of preparation, he would be able to tail the Malfoys closely while simultaneously setting detection wards and interviewing the local snakes.
"This way, ma'am," the receptionist directed, as she stood from her desk and drew a wand. Amelia Bones followed the receptionist through a door and into a circular room. The receptionist motioned with her wand and the room began to spin and descend to another floor. Eventually, the spinning stopped, and the receptionist guided Amelia through another door where they found a guard wearing battle robes on which the insignia of the Department of Mysteries was emblazoned.
"Auror Captain Bones is here to see Mr. Foxe," the receptionist told the guard before stepping back into the spinning room and shutting the door.
The guard did not say anything, but proceeded to lead Amelia through a labyrinth of dark passageways. After at least fifteen minutes of walking, they came to a seven-way intersection. The hall Amelia and the guard had used to get to that point served as one prong of the intersection. The other six prongs were six doors. The guard stepped ahead of Amelia and opened one of the doors after rapping on it smartly. He gestured for Amelia to step in.
Amelia did so and found herself in a low-ceilinged room with plain walls. Fireplaces flanked the room from the left and right, and bookshelves lined the far side of the room behind a table that was doing duty as a desk. Edward Foxe sat behind the desk in a high-backed chair made from mahogany and padded with black leather.
"Captain Bones," Foxe said, his voice belying a sense of power and agility that clashed somewhat with his aged features and white hair.
If Amelia was correct in her reckoning, Foxe had been head of the Department of Mysteries for over forty years. Foxe's position had originally been one of prestige back when the Ministry was pouring millions of galleons into research and magical development projects-as well as espionage assignments.
Now that the DMLE annually received the biggest slice of budget pie, Mr. Foxe and his department merely existed. Some said that Minister Prewitt did not have the guts to dismiss Foxe. Others said that Prewitt had forgotten that the department existed. Looking Foxe in the eye, Amelia could easily bring herself to believe the former.
"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me," Amelia began.
"You are welcome," Foxe replied, looking at Amelia expectantly.
"Since you have been here at the Ministry and have been in a position of power longer than most, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions." Amelia continued.
Foxe gestured his acquiescence with a brief nod.
"What can you tell me about Harry Ashworth?"
Foxe answered Amelia's question with a piercing gaze before setting his eyes on the fire in one of his fireplaces. "Is this an official inquiry?"
"Not at all," Amelia said. "Call it personal curiosity. What you say won't leave this room."
"Very well, but be forewarned. If what I say later proves inconvenient for me, I will deny that I ever said it." Foxe said. "My sources must be protected and my reasons for knowing what I may tell you must remain confidential. In the end, should you try to divulge information and tie it to me, you will only be able to prove that you believe I said what I said."
"That's fine," Amelia said. "Now, what can you tell me?"
"Ashworth appeared in our world near the time that we began to see symptoms of the Dark Lord's existence. Orion Black called on his services. It seems that Mr. Ashworth was a spy or informant of sorts. At Hogwarts, he probably spied on potential Death Eater recruits. Later, he developed into an advisor to Minister Black. After Orion Black's death, Ashworth played a part in influencing some of Minister Black's decisions… for the short amount of time that Cygnus survived his elder brother."
"You say he appeared in our world," Amelia said slowly. "What do you mean by that?"
"There are no records of his birth, childhood, or education," Foxe told Amelia. "There are forgeries and there are official documents later drawn up by Minister Black, but as far as anyone has discovered, there is nothing original."
"Do you have ways to discover whether Harry Ashworth is alive or dead?' Amelia asked.
"Yes."
"So, is Harry Ashworth alive?" Amelia asked hopefully.
Edward Foxe smiled. "That is a question I am not willing to answer."
"Why not?"
"I think it is for the greater good," Edward Foxe said. "You can chalk it up as my contribution to the war against the Dark Lord."
"You do realize that I can make official inquiries with Gringotts and with certain record-keeping departments in the Ministry."
"Not if I have taken steps to suppress and silence your potential sources," Foxe countered. "If I were you, I would ask fewer questions about Harry Ashworth and more questions about how the controversy around Ashworth could be used advantageously in your efforts to better our society." He stood and gestured to the door. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have things that need doing."
Several of the detection wards Harry had placed in the forest near Village #5 were tripped the night before the Malfoys picked up and prepared to make their way to Village #6. Harry was quite disgusted that the alarms had not woken him, but rationalized that since the wards had been located in the forest just outside the inn, it was likely that a guest of the inn or perhaps a villager had tripped it. The day previous, neither Harry nor the Malfoys had been able to find any sign that Pettigrew had passed through.
As had become routine, Harry shared the breakfast hour and dining room with the Malfoys. In Village #4, he had been cheeky enough to share a table with them, but that had not proved productive because they had said very little during the entire encounter. Harry had ceased from using that particular disguise and had limited himself to eavesdropping from across the room while using another disguise.
The Malfoys finished their breakfast and retreated to their rooms to pack. Harry, already having packed his belongings, leisurely finished his breakfast before making his way to the front desk to pay his tab.
"Dear Cousin," Sirius said, plastering a smile on his face as he and Alastor Moody approached Bellatrix in a posh Muggle restaurant located in Liverpool.
Nonplussed, Bellatrix shook her head in annoyance. "I hope that an awkward family reunion is not the true reason you asked me to meet you."
"It's the free food, actually," Sirius said, sitting down at Bellatrix's table and motioning for Moody to do likewise. "You're buying, right?"
Bellatrix shrugged. "If you can finish your meal before I decide to leave, you might be in luck." She reached for her wineglass and took a sip before picking up her fork and eyeing the steamed vegetables on her plate."
"Waiter!" Sirius called. "Waiter!"
"The ghost of Ashworth has not been very active of late," Moody said, trying to ignore Sirius and focus in on Bellatrix.
"I have been quite busy of late," Bellatrix replied. "Multiple irons in the fire, you know."
"Can I help you?" a frazzled server asked, finally responding to Sirius's demand for a waiter.
"I'll have what she's having, sans the vegetables," Sirius announced.
"Very good, sir," the server said stiffly, writing down the order and leaving the table.
"Albus surmised that you must be busy," Moody continued. "However, he is convinced that your tactic of haunting the Death Eaters with the ghost of Ashworth has been effective. He would like to see more of it."
"So," Bellatrix said coolly, "we are moving from disapproval of my actions to complaints that I am slacking off."
"No," Sirius clarified, "we are saying that we think you have been making a good contribution to the war effort even if we have been a tad concerned for your safety in the past. And," he said, pausing for emphasis, "it so happens that we have stumbled on a good opportunity for you to exercise your ghost of Ashworth skills in an eminently useful manner and from a position of relative safety. Besides, James was the only one who actually disapproved of your actions."
"Oh, really?" Bellatrix said, switching her fork into other hand and picking up the knife.
"The thing is," Moody said, "we have detected a number of probes on the wards surrounding the Burrow, which is of course, the residence of Arthur and Molly Weasley. We anticipate a Death Eater attack on that place very soon."
"And you want me to produce the ghost of Ashworth at the opportune moment and break up the attack," Bellatrix said, beginning to cut into her steak.
"That's part of it," Sirius said.
"Mostly, we would like to have an extra wand on hand," Moody said. "If you were to agree to spend a few nights at the Burrow to be on hand in case of an attack, the Order would be quite beholden to you."
"The Order already is quite beholden to me already, I should think," Bellatrix said, taking a bite of meat.
"And that's why we are giving you this prime opportunity!" Sirius exclaimed. "We're telling you where an attack will occur well before it has happened. Think of how many hours it would have taken you to hunt down a Death Eater attack and foil it."
"Yes," Moody said, "all you have to do is spend a few nights with Arthur and Molly. Maybe there is an attack and maybe there is not an attack. During the days, you would be free to attend to whatever business you have."
"And, if there is an attack, the ghost of Ashworth will break it up quicker than it began, I should think," Sirius declared. "I hear that even old You-Know-Who has been left quite unsettled by these appearances of Ashworth's ghost."
"I did teach Lily how to cast the spell," Bellatrix said, yawning. "Why do you not hire her?"
"She has to defend her own house," Moody pointed out.
"I have a house, too," Bellatrix said.
"Yes, but nobody knows what city it is in, let alone anything specific about it," Moody parried.
"True," Bellatrix said. "I think Lily could teach both Molly and Arthur how to use the ghost of Ashworth spell, however."
"She could," Moody admitted. "However, more than anything, it would be very comforting to us if the Weasleys had another wand on which they could rely in the next few days."
"I suppose I could spend a few nights with the Weasleys. As you say, it saves me the trouble of ferreting out an attack on my own." Bellatrix admitted.
"Now, you realize we are not promising that there will be an attack," Sirius clarified. "We only have a suspicion that an attack on the Weasley residence is being planned.
"Already covering your butt?" Bellatrix asked.
"Yes," Sirius said. "I don't want you to become angry if there is no attack or if you discover Professor Dumbledore's ulterior motives before the attack occurs."
"Ulterior motives like monitor my movements?" Bellatrix said.
"Yep."
"Like help me develop an emotional attachment to the Order?"
"Yep."
"Like get me in the habit of following Dumbledore's lead in the war?"
"Yep."
"Like watch me cast the ghost of Ashworth spell and confirm that I really am the one that has been terrorizing Death Eaters?"
"Actually, yeah."
"Anything else you care to divulge while you can?" Bellatrix asked, her lips quirking in amusement.
"Nope."
"What about you?" Bellatrix asked, narrowing her eyes at Moody.
"Suffice it to say that there actually is a threat to the Weasley family and that we believe your efforts would go far in reassuring all involved and possibly repelling an attack." Moody said, clearly annoyed that Sirius had been so willing to confirm all of Bellatrix's suspicions about Dumbledore's secondary purposes in asking Bellatrix to help the Weasley family.
"All right," Bellatrix said after finishing her last scrap of meat and taking a final sip of wine. "Let me stop off at my place and pack a few things."
"I need some time to eat this," Sirius said as the server appeared with his order.
"Get a doggie bag," Bellatrix said, producing a Gringotts First National Bank of London credit card and handing it to the server as soon as the woman serving had placed Sirius's order on the table.
"You'll pay for this," Sirius complained as they waited for the server to return with Bellatrix's card and Sirius's doggie bag.
"I just did," Bellatrix said.
"I mean there will be revenge for not letting me finish my food."
"Seriously?" Bellatrix said deadpan, and before Sirius could respond, she continued. "I will apparate back to my place and rendezvous with you by the lamppost."
"That should be acceptable," Moody said as the server returned, card and doggie bag in hand.
"Great," Bellatrix said. "Do not follow me."
"Try and stop us," Sirius grumbled.
Bellatrix shrugged and after waiting for Sirius to pack away his food into the doggie bag, she departed from the table, making a beeline for the women's restroom. "Ta-ta," she said as she stepped in and let the door swing shut behind her. She then shut herself in a stall and apparated away.
Moody allowed the moving staircase to carry him up to Professor Dumbledore's office where he found the headmaster and Lily Potter waiting for him. Without waiting for Dumbledore's customary offer, he reached out and grabbed a handful of lemon drops while grunting a response to Albus and Lily's greetings as he settled himself in an available chair.
"Well," he declared, "she agreed to go and be on hand for the possible attack."
"Fascinating," Dumbledore observed, also helping himself to a lemon drop.
"She did see through most of your motives-particularly your theory that we might confirm whether she's actually the one terrorizing Death Eaters with the ghost of Ashworth." Moody continued.
"That was not completely unexpected," Dumbledore said, letting out a disappointed sigh. "Though, it is probably a moot point. We have not detected any sign that she is operating in cahoots with anyone."
"Now, if her performance with the ghost of Ashworth fails to meet expectations, we'll have to assume she did it on purpose to annoy us and cause us to wonder whether Ashworth might have actually survived," Moody growled.
"Yes, it is an aggravating situation," Dumbledore admitted.
"Did she show any sign of realizing that part of our motive is drawing her into a closer friendship with us?" Lily asked.
Moody shrugged. "Yeah, though her phraseology for that sentiment was quite jaded.
"Sincerity on our part will overcome her cold heart, I think," Dumbledore observed.
Lily was quick to jump in on this point. "I think she was raised without a lot of love in her family. If Professor Ashworth died, she must have been so lonely."
"And then we show her kindness and affection, eventually making her part of our loving family," Moody said sarcastically.
Lily glared at the retired auror. "That is precisely what we do."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he leaned back in his chair. "I am not so sure Mrs. Black will allow her relationship with us to become that close. However, we must work to bring her into the Order, and then I think even into our inner circle if we can establish some sort of trust between us."
"Our inner circle?" Lily questioned. "Don't you think that is going too far?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Bellatrix Black was fighting this war before any of us. I also mentioned at a previous meeting that she has made more progress against Voldemort than all of us combined-and when I say that, I am not even taking into account the effect her ghost of Ashworth ploy is having on the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort."
Moody was nodding, though perhaps a little bit grudgingly. "I remember you saying that, but you have not yet let Lily and me into your confidence as to what Bellatrix has done that is so important."
"I am afraid, my friends, that tonight is not the right time to discuss that matter," Dumbledore said slowly. "I want to corner Mrs. Black and discuss some of the details of the situation with her before I have the Order as a whole start taking action."
"I am not sure that you should be giving her that much influence in the Order," Lily opined.
Dumbledore shrugged. "I am now convinced that the prophecy regarding Lord Voldemort's downfall relates to her."
"How is that?" Moody asked.
"Bellatrix qualifies as Daughter of the Stars," Dumbledore declared. "Her father was Cygnus, named for the constellation. Her uncle was Orion, named for a constellation as well. She carries on their crusade. Undoubtedly, she is the Daughter of the Stars."
"Well great," Moody said. "I seem to remember, though, that Lord Black is the one who is equal to the Dark Lord, according to the prophecy. The last time I checked, Bellatrix isn't a wizard."
"It is possible that the prophecy was referring to the influence Lord Black could have beyond the grave. In that instance, it could be that Orion or Cygnus is the subject of the prophecy," Dumbledore speculated.
"And what does that do for us?" Moody asked.
"Not much, other than remind us that we probably need Bellatrix firmly in our corner," Dumbledore said quietly.
Bellatrix stowed her overnight bag on Ginny Weasley's desk. She could have packed more clothes for her stay at the Burrow, but had deliberately packed only enough clothes for one day. Thus far, her lack of clothes had proven to be an admirable excuse to depart from the Burrow during the day. Bellatrix had spent the last several days preparing for Pettigrew's arrival, researching horcruxes, and gathering supplies. At night, she had slept in Ginny Weasley's room, her own wand and a couple of spare Wandel wands nearby. In effect, the Burrow was turning out to be a very nice bed and breakfast.
After unzipping the bag, Bellatrix removed a briefcase-shaped container from the bag's bottomless depths. Case in hand, Bellatrix exited Ginny's room and made her way down the stairs where she joined Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley had just finished cleaning up dinner.
"You do realize that you are always invited to join us for dinner, don't you?" Mrs. Weasley said.
"Of course," Bellatrix said as congenially as possible, "it is just that I have so many errands that I often just eat out as a matter of course."
"Well, there's plenty of dessert left," Mrs. Weasley said, handing Bellatrix a small plate with a slice of pie.
"Thank you," Bellatrix said, accepting the plate. "I am just on my way to work on your wards a little bit." Balancing the plate and case in one hand so as to keep her wand arm free, Bellatrix wandered outside, leaving Mrs. Weasley alone in the kitchen.
Bellatrix made her way across the yard to Mr. Weasley's storage shed. The Weasley patriarch's obsession with all things Muggle struck Bellatrix as rather odd, but she liked Mr. Weasley quite a bit. He would enjoy the pie more than her, and he would be able to comment on Bellatrix's proposed changes to the wards.
"I brought you some extra pie," Bellatrix announced as she entered the shed and looked around. She could not see Mr. Weasley anywhere. "Mr. Weasley?"
"Right here," Mr. Weasley called from across the garage and toward the floor. His feet were sticking out from under an old Muggle car.
Bellatrix set the pie down on a workbench and set down her case as Mr. Weasley scooted out from beneath the car.
"You really should try Molly's cooking one of these days," Arthur said, eyeing the pie.
"I have already had plenty of dessert for today," Bellatrix said, studying the car on which Mr. Weasley had been working. She had noticed it in the shed before, but it had not occurred to her that Mr. Weasley might be doing more than admiring it in a general sort of way. "What are you doing with the car?"
Mr. Weasley picked up the pie and looked around furtively before answering her question. "I'm actually making some improvements."
"What kind of improvements?" Bellatrix inquired.
"Expanding space on the inside and in the trunk," Mr. Weasley said, setting down the pie plate and stepping over to the car. He opened the trunk and waved his hand around in it. "Back in the day when we had as many as five children attending Hogwarts, we were able to get all their trunks and the whole family into the car for the ride to King's Cross."
"Impressive," Bellatrix said, eyeing the car enviously as Mr. Weasley continued to talk about the various modifications he had made to the Muggle automobile.
"Of course, I don't drive it around all that much," Mr. Weasley concluded, picking the pie plate back up and preparing to take another bite of pie. "Then, of course, there is the fact that excessive use of it could raise trouble with the Ministry, especially if Muggles were to notice."
"I am quite sure your modifications help prevent detection," Bellatrix observed. "What is it that you do in the Ministry, by the way?"
"I'm in the Muggle Liaison Office," Mr. Weasley said. "We have to keep the Muggles informed about this war, especially if and when some of them turn up dead because of Death Eater activity. We also try to discourage witches and wizards from taking advantage of Muggles, though mostly we focus on helping the aurors protect the Muggles from Death Eaters."
"I see," Bellatrix said, her mind not really focusing on Mr. Weasley's position in the Ministry. However, she let him continue describing his job for a bit before turning the subject toward where her thoughts were running. "Mr. Weasley, if I were to purchase a Muggle car, would you be willing to make some basic modifications on it? I would pay you, of course."
"Well, I suppose I could," Mr. Weasley said slowly. "But you do have to realize that a lot of the modifications I've made on my car have just been experimental. I'm not sure it would be appropriate to magically modify a car for frequent use."
"It would be no different from me buying a car and using it without modifications," Bellatrix pressed. "And, I am only asking for some very basic modifications-enlarged interiors, maybe a little bit of reinforcement in the event of an accident, that sort of thing. Very subtle."
Mr. Weasley furrowed his brow as he considered Bellatrix's request. "What kind of car are we talking about?"
"I'm not sure yet," Bellatrix said. "I can pay by the hour or just a flat fee."
"I'm not sure that pay would be appropriate," Mr. Weasley said. "After all, you have taken the time to help increase our defenses. It would be the least I could do to repay you."
"Nonsense," Bellatrix said, "being willing to modify the car and accept the money is more than enough of a favor to repay my efforts to help protect your house."
Mr. Weasley shrugged. "All right, if you get around to buying a car, I'll see what I can do."
"Perfect," Bellatrix said. She picked up the case she had brought out from the house with her. "I was hoping that I could take down some of your wards and replace them with some others I have developed."
"Can't you just put them up in addition to what we already have?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"There's a slight chance that the new wards and the wards I want to take down would interfere with each other," Bellatrix explained. "Furthermore, the Death Eaters already probed your defenses. If they arrive and find a lot more wards than originally were present, they might retreat."
Mr. Weasley tilted his head. "I thought the purpose was to prevent an attack. If extra wards would scare them away, why disguise that there are new wards?"
"My wards have zing to them," Bellatrix declared. "Merely scaring the Death Eaters with an increased quantity of wards would only stave them off for a night or week. Letting them come in, get stung badly, and scared to death by the ghost of Ashworth will keep them away for a lot longer."
"If you say so," Mr. Weasley said, reluctantly assenting to Bellatrix's plan. "I'm not sure you'll be able to take down those wards, however. My son Bill is quite a hand at that kind of thing, and I had him put them up."
"They are very good wards," Bellatrix admitted as she began to exit Mr. Weasley's shed, "but I do not anticipate any difficulty in implementing my new ward scheme."
After the wards in Village #6 were not only tripped during the night, but tripped in such a way that Harry was again not woken immediately, Harry began to suspect that he, the Malfoys, or both were being followed and observed by somebody. Harry was very careful to observe his trail and the general area for followers as he followed the Malfoys on their journey to Village #7. Unfortunately, he was unable to detect anything, and he and the Malfoys arrived in Village #7 at about the same time without any sort of incident.
Village #7 was a rather dismal sort of place. Out of all the Albanian villages he had seen thus far, Village #7 proved to be Harry's least favorite. Harry stealthily made his way around the village while the Malfoys headed for the local tavern to inquire after some rooms to rent for a night or two.
The village was small enough that every resident knew every other resident. This made Harry an undoubted stranger in their midst. The village's location deep in the Albanian forest also made it so that few if any of the villagers spoke English. The language barrier frustrated Harry quite a bit, though the hostile atmosphere led him to believe that even if there was no language barrier, the villagers would not want to speak to him.
After a suitable amount of time had passed, Harry made his way to the tavern to inquire after a room for himself. The barkeep did not speak a word of English and did not seem pleased to see Harry-or rather, the aged wizard's countenance that was Harry's disguise. However, Harry's gold spoke for him and the barkeep led Harry to an extremely small room. Harry tried to act grateful.
Deciding that he would rather not have his clothes make contact with any the surfaces in the grungy room, Harry skipped unpacking and made his way down to the back of the inn. There, Harry began laying out his usual array of detection wards, also adding a few extra twists to ensure that he was alerted if they were tripped.
Harry walked into the inn and headed for the front to see if he could purchase some dinner. There, he found the Malfoys conversing with the barkeep in Albanian. Wishing that he could speak Albanian, Harry took a seat and hoped that whoever functioned as the server in the place would take pity on him and offer to bring out some food.
It turned out that Harry was doomed to spend quite a bit of time waiting. Eventually, the Malfoys stopped speaking with the barkeep, apparently having been disappointed in their queries. They departed from the main room of the inn, presumably to go rest in their room. Even then, the barkeep continued to ignore Harry who was not shy about glancing at his timepiece often.
After a while, the dinner arrived. It was marked by the arrival of a few of the tavern's regulars and the Malfoys. Harry supposed that those who spoke Albanian had been informed as to what time dinner was served. He was beginning to feel somewhat resentful until the barkeep made a point of serving him first. Somewhat mollified, Harry eyed the plate of food and began to eat.
Harry was just about to pick up his fork to try an unfamiliar dish when silence fell over the room. Harry looked up to see that Peter Pettigrew was standing near the doorway of the tavern, his wand drawn and pointed at the Malfoys. Harry was surprised, but he mostly felt like an idiot. He should have been able to detect that Peter was close well before Peter could come into sight like this.
"My fellow servants," Peter wheezed, his face painted with fear. He backed away from Lucius and Draco as if they already had their wands drawn and were ready to kill him. The locals looked from the Malfoys to Pettigrew, confusion painted on their faces.
"Surrender, Pettigrew," Lucius said coolly. "You know the consequences will be worse if you don't."
"Please," Pettigrew cried, losing his composure. "Please don't kill me."
"We're here to capture you," Lucius barked. "Now put down your wand. We won't kill you."
"You don't understand," Peter said, literally beginning to break down into tears as the local Albanians, Harry, and the Malfoys watched in consternation. "Please, I swear I'll be good. Please don't kill me."
"No, you moron!" Lucius yelled as Draco alternated his gaze between his father and Pettigrew. "We aren't going to kill you! Now put down your wand and we'll talk about the situation."
Pettigrew shook his head and backed away from the Malfoys. Harry watched in confusion, his thoughts racing as he tried to understand what was going on. The conversation didn't make any sense. Why was Pettigrew talking and hysterically acting as if the Malfoys wanted to kill him when they had made it abundantly clear that they wanted to capture him? Surely, Pettigrew knew that Voldemort would want him alive.
Lucius stood up from his chair, his wand drawn. He walked slowly toward Pettigrew. "Just put your wand down and we can be on our way. You will be alive," he said in an even tone.
"No, no!" Pettigrew screamed.
Suddenly, it clicked in Harry's mind. It was a show-just like the show put on by the Peter of Harry's dimension as he killed several Muggles and disappeared, leaving Sirius Black to take the rap for betraying the Potters and murdering others. Clearly, Peter had noticed the Malfoys making inquiries in the Albanian villages. He had waited until they arrived in a village where none of the witnesses spoke English. Perhaps that had even been his purpose in fleeing to Albania. He would cast some spell that killed the Malfoys. The non-English speaking witnesses would assure later Death Eaters that Peter Pettigrew was dead and that he had been killed by the Malfoys. The Malfoys who would die would not be able to say otherwise.
Lucius was getting closer to Pettigrew. In a couple of seconds, he would be able to grab the wand away from his fellow Death Eater. Remembering that Draco was part of his wife's bargain with Narcissa Malfoy, Harry drew his phoenix feather wand and cast a summoning charm on Draco. Draco was yanked across the room just as Harry erected a shield between himself and the place where Lucius was approaching Pettigrew. Almost simultaneously, a blast exploded across the room, presumably from Pettigrew's wand.
Not even bothering to look at the aftermath, Harry shot a stunner at Draco and then raced to the street, crossing ground where there had once been a tavern wall. Unless he missed his guess, Peter would be in rat form and scurrying for the nearest hiding place-probably the forest. Coughing from the smoke that was now wafting through the air, Harry croaked out a spell, repeating it multiple times as if it were a tongue twister or limerick. " Serpensortia!"
Snakes began appearing from the end of Harry's wand. " Bring me the rat! " he hissed in Parseltongue as he began running toward the forest. " Bring me the rat! " Perhaps because Harry had conjured them or perhaps because parselmouths had inherent authority over snakes, the snakes obeyed Harry, racing forward, using their sense of smell to find Pettigrew's trail.
" Thisss way," hissed one of the snakes as it slithered rapidly in a diagonal slant toward the forest.
Several of the snakes also caught whatever scent the first snake had found and also began slithering toward the forest. Harry started running after them, and for a moment, he thought he could see Pettigrew in his rat form scurrying toward cover in the forest. However, Harry simply was not able to run fast enough.
Realizing that his tactics needed to change, Harry stopped, grabbed his shrunken trunk from his robes, enlarged it, and threw it open. Inside, he found a Nimbus 2001 that Bellatrix had acquired on one of her supply shopping trips. Initially, Harry had been annoyed that she had taken upon herself to select a broom for him-he would have rather had a Firebolt.
Now extremely grateful for Bellatrix's initiative, Harry mounted the broom and zoomed into the forest, hot on the trail of his snakes and Pettigrew. The snakes were hissing loudly enough that Harry was able to catch up with them, hindered only slightly by the necessity to weave in and out of the trees as he zoomed through the forest. Eventually, he was flying directly over Pettigrew who was desperately scampering across the forested terrain in an attempt to escape the snakes.
Briefly, Harry considered trying to stun him, but realized that a rat made a rather small target. Choosing to employ another strategy, Harry zoomed forward to ground that Pettigrew had not yet covered and began conjuring more snakes. " Bring me the rat! " he hissed loudly.
Now, with Harry's snakes surrounding Pettigrew. Harry swung around, arced through the forest and made his descent to the forest floor just as one of the newly conjured snakes lunged and grabbed Pettigrew in his jaws. " Bring him to me," Harry hissed.
The snake slithered over to Harry, and Harry accepted the rat. The markings were familiar. For sure, it was the rat that had once been Ron's pet. Before Pettigrew could transform, Harry stunned him and slipped him into his pocket. Not having the heart to destroy the newly created snakes, Harry let them be as he mounted his broom and flew back to the village where he collected his trunk and stowed the broom. From the trunk, he retrieved a bottle in which he placed Pettigrew. Anticipating that he may catch Pettigrew in his rat form, Harry had prepared the bottle with holes in the lid and an unbreakable charm on the glass. Finished with that business, Harry tossed the bottle into the trunk, shrunk the trunk, and pocketed it before making his way back to the tavern.
Confused villagers milled just outside what remained of the tavern's front. Harry slipped into the heavily damaged building to discover the barkeep and someone who must have been the local constable eyeing Lucius's blasted, dead body. Harry winced, feeling slightly sorry for the son of his old friend, though keeping that sorrow in check by reminding himself of the horrors Lucius must have committed, helping to murder his father not being the least of them.
Draco had been shifted aside where he could lay unconscious on the floor out of the way while someone who seemed like a doctor or mediwizard examined some of the people who had been injured, but thankfully, not killed by the blast. Furtively looking around, Harry discerned that nobody was watching him or Draco's unconscious form.
Harry smiled as he waved his wand and transfigured Draco into a ferret. He picked up the unconscious ferret and walked outside and to a secluded place where he enlarged and opened up his trunk to get another bottle.