Chapter 29: Ramifications and Repercussions

Impatiently awaiting the onset of fireworks, Ginny Weasley cursed herself silently. Her foolhardiness had led her into being cursed and incapacitated by Lady Black, watching helplessly as Rose and Leo lost possession of the Dark Lord's personal diary, and leading her mother into the arms of Death Eaters. Even after all these years, her mother still choked up on the rare occasions that she spoke of the fate suffered by Ginny's twin uncles, Fabian and Gideon, at the hands of the Dark Lord.

Molly had never forgiven Ginny's grandfather, Minister Prewitt, for his inflexible unwillingness to negotiate in any way for the lives of his sons. In truth, for that grievous sin against family, everyone in the Weasley clan, excepting perhaps Ginny's eldest brother Percy, avoided speaking too often with the man they all called "The Minister."

Now Ginny shuddered to realize that she herself might end up causing Molly's death-not on the basis of principle but as a result of base stupidity. Appealing truly to divinity for the first time in her young life. Ginny begged of the velvet nighttime sky, Not my mother, please! Please, take me, she pleaded, spare my mother, take me, please! Finally, as the explosions triggered by Rose and Leo ripped and rippled throughout the grounds of Malfoy Manor, Ginny held her breath, maintaining her vigil even while glancing expectantly at the cot holding the invisible form of Harry Ashworth.

Come back, she now pleaded of Harry, the explosions having been his cue to retreat. Please come back and tell me the plan worked! Suddenly, Ginny saw Death Eaters appear in the Manor's many windows, some casting shield charms, others wildly shooting stunners at the bushes around the grounds. Tell me this worked, she pleaded to no one and everyone, guide all of us home! Keep the Weasleys and the Potters and the Blacks safe and whole! Finally, expelling a breath she'd forgotten she was holding, Ginny turned to see Harry Ashworth's image reunite with his body.

"Did everything go all right in there?" Ginny asked breathlessly, her voice made raspy by a mouth dry from fear. Noting Lord Black's arrival, Neville also turned expectantly to hear Harry's answer.

"Yes," Harry smiled triumphantly, "it went nearly perfectly." Ginny swallowed despite her dry throat and placed her hands over her heart in relief. Harry added, "I suspect your mother is already in safe hands."

Ginny then noted that Harry appeared somewhat sweaty and pale, but nevertheless seemed enthused and energetic. His eyes, in particular, appeared bright and very wide. Throwing off the blankets that had covered him in the cot, Harry stood with a slight struggle and a helping hand from Neville.

"Nearly perfect?" Neville marveled. "What could have gone better?"

Harry frowned faintly. "We were aiming for a happy medium, and I'm not sure we achieved it. I don't want the dark lord to accept the idea that I'm alive, well, and back to bother him, but I don't want him to dismiss the idea either. I am not entirely sure that I persuaded him enough. In a few days, he'll convince himself that this was all was a clever ploy pulled off by the Order."

"Oh," said Ginny, now slowly drifting towards exhaustion as her adrenalized fear faded, entirely unconcerned with the subtle touches Harry and Bellatrix sought to integrate into the rescue mission.

"So, are we headed to the rendezvous point, now?" Neville asked leadingly.

"Not yet," Harry demurred to the disbelief of his teenage minders, as all three glanced at the Death Eaters now milling around the windows of the Manor. "I think I need to do just a little more to sell this."

"Your wife gave very strict instructions," Ginny reminded Harry, now apprehensive about Bellatrix's response.

"Tell her I disobeyed," Harry smirked, walking slowly and deliberately to the edge of the forest.

Ginny and Neville shot concerned glances at each other before sprinting to catch up with Harry, who had stopped on the forest's innermost margin. Instead of looking into the grounds as Neville and Ginny thought Harry had intended, Harry was studying the boundary between the forest and the manor walls.

"This will work perfectly!" Harry declared, his voice slightly brittle from his flagging energies.

Suddenly, Harry aimed his wand to the right and shot a wave of fiendfyre deep into the forest as Ginny and Neville looked on, jaws slack with astonishment. Harry then turned to his left and released yet another wave of fiendfyre into the depths of the forest. He smiled weakly, noting that the fiendfyre had caused a stronger reaction from the Death Eaters inside the manor than even the explosions had.

His satisfaction was not to be enjoyed for long, however. Ginny watched as his face began to lose color. Shoulders now slouching, Harry mumbled, "I don't feel well."

Quickly, Ginny and Neville refocused on Harry, alarmed as he slowly slumped down to the ground. More alarmingly, the teens glanced around themselves to find fiendfyre racing ravenously throughout the forest, in all directions, including their own.

"Let's get out of here," Neville stated decisively.

Ginny then pulled a Rubik's cube from her pocket, checking carefully to see that it was set as Harry and Bellatrix had instructed. She then placed the cube in Harry's limp hand, both teens placing their own hands firmly atop the cube before Ginny spoke the activation word, "Trouble."

One gut twisting portkey trip later, the three appeared on a bench at a bus stop in Ireland. No one else was there.

"So, are we late or early?" Neville asked uncertainly, looking around.

"I don't know," Ginny replied as she nervously peered into the foggy night. She pushed Harry up so that he was sitting properly on the bench, conscious if only barely.

"Any chance of just dropping Harry off at his home?" Neville urged, glancing circumferentially into the forbidding darkness, clearly uncomfortable to be sitting out in the open, easy pickings for anyone in search of foolish prey.

Ginny shrugged, brushing Harry's unruly black hair away from his eyes, noticing for the first time a lightning bolt-shaped scar across the top of his forehead. "I'm not entirely sure where his home is."

"You were there!" Neville exclaimed with frustration.

"Well, yeah," Ginny retorted sharply, "but his crazy wife made sure we didn't have a clue where it was."

"Hey," Neville said loudly, trying to get Harry's attention. "We want to take you home. Is there any chance you can set this portkey to get us there?"

Tiredly, Harry stuck out his hand, wherein Ginny deposited the Rubik's cube. Harry looked at each of them individually and smiled. "Gin, Nev, you two are the best," Harry muttered familiarly, confusing the two teens who then watched as Harry slowly turned the cube, manipulating its face into a specific design. Harry looked at the cube as closely as his exhaustion allowed, then closed his eyes and held the cube out so all three of them could grasp it.

"Trouble," Ginny whispered.

Bellatrix rummaged through the shelves of a Muggle drugstore looking for something to clean wounds. "Merlin save us from dimwits who get blown up by their own C4," she grumbled angrily.

"Singed," Rose cried out, propped atop on one of the druggist's stools and holding her head in her hands, "singed. I didn't blow myself up."

"If you were only singed, you would not be bleeding," Bellatrix said acidly, finding a bottle of something that advertised itself as a disinfectant. "Blood means that you blew yourself up." She walked down another aisle, found some gauze and medical tape, and added that to her collection.

"I'm still here, aren't I? That means I haven't been blown into bits." Rose shot back, sounding very miserable. "How was I supposed to know that it was going to be that big of an explosion? And what in the world does a pureblood know about bloody C4, anyway?"

Harry mentioned plenty about Muggle explosives, Bellatrix thought, recalling technical descriptions of desperate tactics employed by the Order during the conflict Bellatrix had come to think of as the Lost War. But I wish he'd tell me all of his secrets, she added, frustrated by Harry's ongoing reticence to describe the conflict in detail. Bellatrix then rolled her eyes in the darkness of the store, as much at Harry as at Rose, while berating the younger Potter daughter in the darkness. "Your boyfriend managed to avoid getting blown up," she stated drily. "Where has he gotten to?"

"I'm right here," Leo called, emerging from a bathroom in the back of the building with a bucket of hot water.

Leo then carried the bucket over to Rose, and was shortly joined by Bellatrix, who'd grabbed a few more things off the shelves. Leo watched with amusement in his eyes as Bellatrix removed the price tag from a washcloth before dipping it into the water. Rose still had her face buried in her hands.

"We cannot do anything until you remove your hands from your face," Bellatrix observed flatly.

Reluctantly, Rose moved her hands to reveal a bloody, bruised, blackened, thoroughly dirty face.

"Maybe we should take her to St. Mungo's," Leo worried aloud.

"I do not think that is necessary," Bellatrix replied as she began scrubbing Rose's face.

"That hurts!" Rose exclaimed, pulling away.

Again rolling her eyes, Bellatrix handed the washcloth to Leo. "Wash her up," she ordered.

Leo, working more gingerly with Rose, cleaned up her face in fairly short order. Bellatrix then used a few spells to extract some of the debris that the explosion had embedded into Rose's face, before Leo washed, disinfected, and treated Rose's wounds. When they finished, Bellatrix dumped all the medicinal supplies into a bag proceeded to the makeup counter, where she selected several more items for Rose's use. "You are going to need all the makeup you can get for the next week or so," Bellatrix advised Rose, handing her the bulging bag.

After leaving enough cash next to the till to cover expenses, Bellatrix grasped her wand firmly in her right hand before silently extending her open left palm before Rose. Rose regarded her with confusion for a few seconds until Bellatrix arched her right eyebrow and shook her head, whereupon Rose's eyes widened with recognition before she produced the Rubik's cube portkey Bellatrix had loaned to Rose earlier. Able to apparate, Leo had been given no cube.

"And the spare wands we lent to both of you, worthless though they may be," Bellatrix added, sending Leo and Rose rummaging through their respective robes for one of the poorly made wands Harry long ago purchased in bulk before storing, in charmed strongboxes, along with the cubes.

Placing the colorful cube and flimsy wands within her robes, Bellatrix raised her wand and prepared to depart, prompting Rose to ask sharply, "You're leaving already?"

"Yes," Bellatrix said curtly. "Leo can get you home from here."

"How are we supposed to explain all of this to our parents?" Rose demanded.

"That is for you to figure out," Bellatrix smiled. "You can tell them the little you know about me, but remember that you are bound by oath to not discuss Harry. Do not even hint that Harry Ashworth is alive. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Leo said, resigned.

"I should hope so," Bellatrix stated smugly. "You swore on your magic, after all." With nagging apprehension, Bellatrix then quickly apparated away, appearing in Manchester outside of the flat she shared with Harry. She hoped that Ginny, Neville, and Harry had employed good sense and abandoned the rendezvous spot when Bellatrix and her charges failed to arrive in a timely manner.

Spotting Longbottom near the base of the stairs that led to the apartment, right arm at his side like someone warily palming a wand, Bellatrix was considerably-if somewhat inexplicably-relieved.

Neville spotted Bellatrix immediately. "Ginny and your house elf took your husband upstairs," he said evenly, approaching her somewhat slowly, wand still at his side, clearly not entirely trustful of Bellatrix.

"Good," Bellatrix replied, responding neutrally to Neville's defensive body language. "You're palming your wand. I approve. You seem at first blush to have a better grasp of proper dueling than Leo, Rose, or Ginny."

"Er, thank you," Neville replied uncertainly.

"I'll need to retrieve that worthless spare wand we lent you," Bellatrix added.

Never moving his right arm from his side, Neville reached under his robes and between his shoulder blades with his left hand, retrieving the spare wand and placing it into Bellatrix's extended left hand as she smiled approvingly. Mildly impressed with Neville, Bellatrix briefly considered inviting the Longbottom scion upstairs, but dismissed the idea when she saw no immediate benefit. "I'll send Ginny down, and you will be able to take her home, correct?"

"Yes, finally," Neville said gratefully, eager to end this experience.

After climbing the stairs and entering the apartment, Bellatrix found her husband asleep in their bed under the watch of Ginny Weasley, who sat on the edge of the bed next to Harry with a steaming mug of hot cocoa in her hands. Annoyed at the teenager's presumptuous familiarity with her husband, Bellatrix paused to consider the Weasley daughter. With reflective disdain- overlaid atop a thin sheen of envy-Bellatrix noted Ginny's buxom chest and full figure, pondering Ginny's long auburn tress and open face with an annoyingly elusive sense of recognition. Then Bellatrix heard Harry's voice in her head as the revelation hit her. My best mate's little sister, Harry had called her. She'd died during the course of the Lost War with Riddle. But she and Harry had also dated.

Bellatrix inhaled sharply, hissing faintly as a flood of alarm and jealousy rose rapidly within her chest, quickly drowning disdain and envy both. Startled by the sound, Ginny quickly stood and turned to look into Lady Black's glaring face. Nearly spilling the cup of cocoa as she rose and whirled, Ginny immediately began explaining herself.

"I got him into bed, and he said he might like a cup of hot cocoa, and when I got back from making it, he had fallen asleep, and I wanted to make sure he was alright," Ginny blurted before setting the mug down on the bedside table. Averting her eyes, Ginny brushed past Bellatrix, heading straight for the apartment door as she added, "I think I need to get going."

"I should say so," Bellatrix responded quietly.

Walking to a living room window at the front of the apartment, Bellatrix watched Ginny exit the entry at the base of the stairs. Ginny grasped Neville's hand quickly, and to his very apparent surprise kissed him deeply and fiercely, before both teens disappeared with the audible pop of side-along apparition.

Bloody hell, Bellatrix realized, annoyed that she had let herself be distracted, I forgot to take back that ginger hussy's cube! And the spare wand, as well! Some dispassionate Slytherin you are! Berating herself silently for several minutes, Bellatrix finally reflected resignedly, Can't do anything about the wand. Piece of garbage, anyway. Who in Merlin's name makes wands in bulk? But losing that cube could be a pain in the ass. Reviewing its protections in her head, however, she reassured herself. Good thing Harry's friend was clever enough to design those cubes with all those devilishly clever failsafe charms. Even if they still lost their war against Riddle.

With a sigh, Bellatrix turned from the window and returned to the bedroom. Spotting the mug of cocoa left by Ginny, Bellatrix sniffed it carefully. Detecting nothing amiss, Bellatrix nevertheless took the mug to the kitchen and poured the cocoa down the drain. Reflecting on the long night they'd had with a final shrug, Bellatrix locked up the apartment and slipped into bed, snuggling up to Harry.

Rose and Leo arrived at the Potter home in Godric's Hollow, surprised to find the house empty. Almost immediately, however, James Potter and Sirius Black arrived, alerted by the wards set by James to notify him should anyone come to the house.

"Rose!" James barked, as relief, anger and fear warred for possession of his face. "Where in Merlin's bloody name have you been?"

"That's a long story," Rose replied with a deep sigh, holding her breath before quietly asking, "Is Mum okay?"

"Your mother and Mrs. Weasley will be all right," James replied with evident gratitude as relief won the fight for his facial expressions. "Are you and Leo all right?" he asked, noting Rose's injured face for the first time.

"Yes," Rose replied, lowering her chin to hide her wounds from her father's eyes.

"How did your face get injured?" James asked softly.

Leo took Rose's hand. "We were at Malfoy Manor setting off explosions, and she got too close to one of them."

"You were there?" Sirius exclaimed, astonished by the apparently outrageous size of Leo and Rose's foolish prank.

Rose nodded. "We helped carry out the rescue operation."

James and Sirius looked at one another and sighed, simultaneously saying, "Marauders." After a pause, Sirius asked, "How were you able to sneak in and get the portkey to Lily and Molly?"

James held up his hand to stop the conversation. "Let's get back to the Order before we have them tell the story." With that, James and Sirius side-along apparated their respective children to the house in Hogsmeade where several members of the Order remained, even though the safe return of Lily and Molly had obviated the rescue operation.

"Where did the portkey take Mum?" Rose asked as the two fathers and two teenagers made their way up the front walk.

"St. Mungo's," James said tersely. "The hospital staff provided some basic care, but your mother wanted to speak with Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible, so she and Molly made their way here."

"It was quite the surprise," Sirius chimed in, disbelief apparent in his voice. "We were waiting for more information about the situation before we could launch our own rescue."

"What did Mum say?" Rose asked guiltily as they walked into the house.

James shrugged. "You two showed up at home and tripped the wards before we could get the story."

The group entered the house to find a meeting of only the Order's most central members: Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Lily Potter, Alastor Moody, Frank and Alice Longbottom, Remus Lupin, and a few others Rose failed to recognize.

"It was them, all right," James announced.

"Excellent," Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly, "I should like to hear their story."

Rose cringed at this, and then hugged her mother tightly before exchanging greetings with the meeting's attendants. Although Sidra and John were there, Rose approached neither of her siblings. Sidra seemed clearly uneager for a reunion with Rose, in any case.

"Their story may actually be more interesting than you would think," James told everyone gathered. "Apparently, they were involved in the rescue."

This caused quite a stir, and it took a little bit before everyone calmed down enough for Dumbledore to regain control of the meeting. "This is a very interesting turn of events," he mused. "Perhaps we can allow Lily and Molly the chance to tell their story first, and then we'll hear from you two."

There was another interruption when the Weasley twins entered the house with Ginny Weasley in tow. "She just came home," Fred and George announced.

This caused another flurry of reactions, before Moody stepped up. "All right, everyone, settle down! Lily and Molly are going to tell us everything they know, the children will fill in the blanks, and then we will ask questions as we see fit. Got it?"

Intimidated by Moody, all those present silenced themselves.

Briefly, Molly Weasley recounted how they had gone to search for Rose, Leo, and Ginny before being ambushed by Death Eaters at 12 Grimmauld Place. Slightly tearful, she recounted her and Lily's interrogation by the Death Eaters, before Lily launched into her story about the apparent appearance of the ghost of Harry Ashworth before someone miraculously portkeyed her and Molly away.

"Thank you, Lily and Molly," Dumbledore said, "To recall that experience must have been very difficult." He then turned to the three teens who appeared deeply chagrined. Looking over the top of his half-moon spectacles and directly into Rose's bright green eyes he said, "We'd like you to shed light on anything you can."

"Right," Rose said nervously. Taking a deep breath and nodding to Ginny and Leo as she spoke for the trio, Rose offered an edited version of their communications and rendezvous with Lady Black late at night in Grimmauld Place, expurgating all references to the Dark Lord's diary. She knew that Leo in particular would be uncomfortable with this, but hoped that he wouldn't call her out on it, since she preferred to speak to Dumbledore about the diary in private, rather than reveal its existence in front of everyone from the Order.

"Basically," Rose summarized, "we were hoping to learn more about this Lady Black who was Kreacher's mistress and were hoping that she would tell us about Lord Black. Unfortunately, while we were meeting with her in the house, Mum and Mrs. Weasley showed up at about the same time a bunch of Death Eaters did, though thankfully, we ourselves were hidden from the Death Eaters. We would have done something at that point, but the Death Eaters had erected anti-apparation wards, and we were badly outnumbered, so our hands were tied. Lady Black then agreed to lead a rescue. Since we knew no one in the Order would allow us to help save our mothers-even though they'd been taken while looking for us-we arranged for Lady Black to send a patronus to Professor Dumbledore."

"The raven," Professor Dumbledore said, nodding. "Now, who is this Lady Black?"

"It was Bellatrix," Lily interrupted keenly, "wasn't it?"

Startled, and robbed of momentum by Lily's pronouncement, Rose admitted simply, "Yes."

"So," said Moody, his voice tinged with astonishment and eagerness, "Harry Ashworth and Bellatrix Black are alive after all."

Dumbledore frowned. "It would seem that Miss Black is alive, but what about Mr. Ashworth?"

Rose sighed. "Bellatrix made us swear magical oaths not to discuss without her permission anything about Harry Ashworth, or anything we may or may not have seen, learned, or come to know about Harry Ashworth before, during, and after the rescue."

"You should never have sworn magical oaths like that," James said sternly.

Rose shrugged. "She had the upper hand. Besides, without Bellatrix's cooperation, I doubt that any of us could have successfully breached the wards around Malfoy Manor in time to pull off a rescue. Bellatrix was able to breach them easily."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Howsoever did she do that?" he asked with surprise.

"Bellatrix happens to own the old Malfoy family ring," Leo interjected. "She was able to use it to get us onto the property. From there, she sneaked into the manor while Rose and I prepared to set off explosions at the appropriate signal. I think you can all piece together the rest."

"Not quite," Lily said weakly. "What did Bellatrix do in the manor? Was she impersonating Ashworth?"

"We didn't manage to compare notes with her about how that part of the operation actually proceeded, but the original plan was for her to incapacitate her sister, take Polyjuice, and shove the portkey into your hands when everyone was distracted," Leo said.

Lily nodded slowly. "That's what she did then. The Narcissa I saw smirked at me. I thought it was out of character for her, and apparently, I was correct."

"Yeah, she does seem the type to smirk a lot," Rose observed. "She also likes to call people dimwits."

"That's my cousin, all right," Sirius chimed in.

"Any more questions?" Rose queried.

"Yes," said Moody, "what was Miss Weasley doing while Bellatrix was in the manor and you two were setting off explosions?"

Ginny winced, knowing that Leo's explanation had left her vulnerable to that particular question. Her hopes that no one would ask were dashed. "I… uh," she began.

Rose rescued her, however. "Ginny was assigned to help… summon the ghost of Harry Ashworth, I guess. Unfortunately, there isn't really anything she can tell you about it because of the magical oath we all took."

"Is there really nothing you can tell us?" Dumbledore asked of Ginny, leaning forward. Lily stared raptly at the Weasley daughter, hoping for some sort of elaboration on Harry Ashworth's status.

"Not really," Ginny said, disappointedly. "But I can give you this," she added, spitefully recalling her humiliating subjugation by Lady Black's curses while pulling a small, brightly colored cube out of her robes.

"A Rubik's cube?" Professor Flitwick said aloud, to the surprise of most in the room.

"Yes, that's what Bellatrix called it. But it's more than just a cube," Ginny said. "It's really a portkey, a dangerously amazing one, actually. Bellatrix told us only a little about how to use it, and warned us about some of its safeguards. She was supposed to take it from me," Ginny continued, recalling Bellatrix's jealous hiss at finding Ginny sitting next to Harry on the bed, "but she apparently forgot."

"If we tried to decode it," Leo added darkly, "she said it would drop us in the Scottish Highlands. Or maybe over the Atlantic."

"Fascinating," said Dumbledore warily. "Miss Weasley, please place it carefully upon the table in front of me. In fact, until I have a chance to safely probe the cube's defenses, no one should touch it." Turning to Rose and Leo, he asked, "Do either of you still have one?"

"Afraid not," Leo shrugged. "Since I can apparate, she said I didn't need one. And she definitely reclaimed the one she loaned to Rose."

"Filius," Dumbledore addressed his Charms professor, "you've seen one of these?"

Filius paused before responding, amazement plain on his face. "I discussed this idea-literally, this exact idea-a few weeks ago, with Miss Granger. She called it a 'polyvalent portkey,' which she proposed completing and submitting as part of her application for an advanced Charms apprenticeship."

The room grew silent for several moments as everyone digested Professor Flitwick's words. "Then perhaps you and I should examine this device together," said Dumbledore quietly to Filius. "Miss Granger may have some helpful insights, as well." Dumbledore looked up from the cube and met Lily Potter's bright green eyes as he raised his eyebrows.

Lily slowly shook her head. "I'm afraid we don't have one of those cubes, Professor," she said. "I recognized the portkey used on us, after the fact. It was a sock, one of the socks James turns into portkeys and stores in our study for emergency family use. Bellatrix probably got it from Rose." Lily turned to her youngest daughter, who nodded.

"For a dead man," Dumbledore added drily, "Harry Ashworth seems to have been the source of a most lively evening. Is there anything else any of you can tell us that might be useful?" Dumbledore asked, now addressing Rose and Leo. While Leo shook his head fairly emphatically, Rose simply stared at Dumbledore, briefly and subtly raising her eyebrows while she widened her eyes. "Indeed," Dumbledore finished, nodding at Rose almost imperceptibly, "then it would seem this meeting of the Order is adjourned."

"Wait a minute, Albus," Moody interrupted, turning himself to address Leo and Rose. "Can you two amateur hour aurors tell us how to contact Bellatrix? We need to speak with her as soon as possible. We also need to confirm her identity."

Rose and Leo looked at one another as both shrugged, somewhat miserably. "Send Kreacher with a message, I guess?" Leo suggested.

"Yeah, we already tried that," Sirius grumbled.

Moody stumbled out of the fireplace and into Professor Dumbledore's office. He brushed off his winter cloak, removed it, and took a seat in front of the desk. "Has Snape arrived yet?" he inquired.

"I am still awaiting his report," Dumbledore said helping himself to a lemon drop and proffering the bowl to Moody, who declined more out of habit than conscious choice.

"I can only imagine how much trouble Miss Potter and Mr. Black are currently in," Moody mused, a faint grin threatening to invade his face.

"Yes," Dumbledore said absently, "they behaved rather recklessly." Although a skilled solicitor might lay all of the blame at my feet, Dumbledore thought to himself with dismay, as a function of my misguided focus on the wrong Miss Potter. "However, they have turned up important information for us. Bellatrix Black is alive, Harry Ashworth may be alive, and they likely are the subjects of the prophecy. Bellatrix, after all, is the daughter of Cygnus and the niece of Orion. The term 'daughter of the stars' fits her more comfortably than it does Sidra Potter. As for Harry Ashworth, it is not unreasonable to suppose that Orion or Cygnus may have made provision for him to take their place should they die. Romulus Malfoy apparently took a similar step when he gave Mr. Ashworth his family ring."

Moody nodded, already having made most of these assumptions himself, but pleased to find that he and Dumbledore were on the same page. "But where have they been all these years?"

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Majorca, perhaps?"

"That sounds too simple of an explanation," Moody scoffed. "Maybe we should re-examine what we think we know. Nothing like a little time travel in the pensieve to clear the mind."

Before Dumbledore could reply, the fire turned green as Severus Snape arrived, presumably from where he had been spying on the Dark Lord. "Is Lily safe?" Snape inquired immediately.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, briefly explaining what the Order had learned from Rose, Leo, and Ginny before asking Snape what he had been able to learn in the aftermath of the rescue.

"Narcissa is somewhat sure that it was Bellatrix who attacked her," Snape informed Dumbledore and Moody.

"Somewhat sure?" Moody demanded. "Either it was her sister or it wasn't."

Snape shrugged, sitting down in the chair next to Moody and ignoring Dumbledore's motion to help himself to the lemon drop bowl. "I wasn't able to get Narcissa alone for a better explanation. All I know is that she refused to confirm for sure that it was Bellatrix. There was room for doubt in her mind."

"Interesting," Dumbledore mused. "How does Voldemort feel about the entire incident?"

"It was very unsettling for him," Snape said.

"I would think that having the ghost of a former victim of yours appear a couple of decades down the road would be unsettling," Moody laughed bitterly.

"Yes," Snape agreed. "However, the fact that it was the late Professor Ashworth seemed to be particularly unsettling for the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "Did he say why?"

"No," Snape said. "After a few minutes, the Dark Lord calmed down, but then the fire started."

"Fire?" Moody asked quickly.

"Yes," Snape said drily. "Someone saw fit to burn down the entire forest surrounding Malfoy Manor. They used fiendfyre. The Dark Lord believes that fiendfyre was, or perhaps is, Professor Ashworth's trademark spell-the spell he supposedly always used in confrontations. Professor Ashworth's 'personal touch' has the Dark Lord convinced that he might be alive. The Dark Lord has assigned every spare Death Eater to research Harry Ashworth. All other priorities have been bumped down."

Turning to Moody, Dumbledore mused, "Then it would seem, gentlemen, that our need to find Miss Black and ascertain Mr. Ashworth's status has grown even more urgent, Alastor."

"I'm on it," Moody declared.

For Rose, the arrival of Professor Dumbledore and Alastor Moody on the Potter's front doorstep, asking to see her, came as a welcome relief. Her parents had grounded her for sneaking out at night-not that Rose wanted to leave her room. She felt guilty whenever she saw her mother, who was still suffering the after effects of her capture, while her father and two siblings were not talking to her.

Professor Dumbledore's demeanor was cheerful as it nearly always was as he took a seat at her desk while Mad-Eye paced the room, his magical eye spinning as it alternated between the door and window.

"Last night, you left me with the impression that you had more to tell," Dumbledore said, launching the topic of discussion after the exchange of pleasantries.

"Yes," said Rose slowly. "You may be wondering why it is that Bellatrix saw fit to meet us after we sent a communication to her via Kreacher, even though you had done the same."

"The question had crossed my mind," Dumbledore admitted.

"There is a rational explanation, but I would very much prefer if my parents never learned it," Rose told Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded. "As long as their lives are not endangered because they do not know of this, I am willing to not mention anything to them."

"It has to do with a diary," Rose began.

Harry awoke slowly, studying at the clock on his nightstand. Ten o'clock, he thought, did I sleep all night? Harry then noticed Bellatrix, sitting at her dressing table, dressed in a sheer black silk nightgown and combing her long, straight, lustrous ebony locks. Glancing at a bedroom window, Harry saw a sky nearly as black as his wife's hair and realized he'd slept on the order of twenty-four hours.

Hearing her husband stir, Bellatrix rose from table and moved towards their bed, whereupon Harry discovered that the nearly black translucent nightgown was at that moment the only thing Bellatrix wore. Robbed of speech by her beauty, Harry at first simply stared at the sensuous form of his wife. Finally, blinking and shaking his head, his groggily asked, "Everything go okay?"

"The rescue went off without any trouble," Bellatrix told him simply. "However, there were some slight deviations in the plan."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Like you setting the bloody forest on fire!" Bellatrix snapped, now standing at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips.

Made more alert by the sudden sharpness of her tone, Harry responded defensively. "I thought it would make a nice statement to Tom."

Bellatrix then jerked off her nightgown in a huff, causing Harry to close his eyes for fear of losing the power of thought. Harry felt Bellatrix pull back the covers on the left side of the bed. "It made a great statement, I'm sure," Bellatrix hissed. "But, it left you completely incapacitated! You were defenseless. What if you had been attacked? What would have happened if that Weasley girl or the Longbottom boy had decided to slit your throat when they saw you weak?"

"Bella," Harry said slowly, opening his eyes to meet his wife's gaze, forcing himself to ignore the reaction her bare nearness irresistibly elicited. "Neville Longbottom is as good as they come, and I trust Ginny Weasley completely."

"Why is that?" Bellatrix demanded, as she closed the space between them. "Did she always bring you hot cocoa in bed when the two of you dated?"

Harry reflexively then turned on his left side to cuddle, before Bellatrix wrapped him in her arms and shifted to her right, pulling herself completely astride her husband, wrapping herself tightly around him. Now understanding the reasons for her sharp tone, Harry gently reached up, cupping Bellatrix's face with his hands, affection flooding the forefront of his mind as he deeply peered into her beloved violet eyes.

Bellatrix was again wearing her mask, her placidly expectant, almost haughty expression, making Harry smile to himself as he realized how well he had learned to read his young wife. Beneath her imperious exterior, Harry could clearly see insecurity and yearning, emotions betrayed by her faintly dilated pupils, her scarcely raised eyebrows, her scantly parted lips. The expression on Bellatrix's face could have probably frightened Ginny and Neville to death, but beneath that icy mask shivered vulnerability and want, of which Bellatrix herself was likely barely unaware. But Harry knew just what his bride needed to hear.

"The Ginny Weasley I once knew," Harry said deliberately, "was a smart, strong, skilled witch, who could be fearsome and fearless in defense of the people she loved." He gently pulled her face closer to his, now feeling the warm of her breath on his lips. "But the most talented, most powerful, most beautiful witch I've ever met already married me. I have no wish-ever-to share my bed with anyone else."

Bellatrix blushed as she closed her eyes, lips now parted as her breathing hitched, her fingers filled with Harry's unruly hair as she kissed him desperately. With urgency, Bellatrix tugged off Harry's pajamas, tossing tops and bottoms together heedlessly onto the bedroom floor. Harry felt himself grow almost drunk, lightheaded and dizzy with the bliss of his wife's kisses, fleetingly aware that he could no longer blame blood loss. Their eager hands dueled and danced, overmatching inexperience with perceptive dexterity, now nakedly vulnerable and rich with desire as Harry and Bellatrix surrendered, each to the other.

Warily, Alastor Moody proceeded down the London street on which sat the lamppost he and Harry Ashworth had once used as a means of communication. He soon spotted the lamppost, and with his hand fingering his wand warily, he moved toward it, his eyes only barely darting to confirm that James Potter and Sirius Black were covering him.

Bellatrix Black had seen fit to respond to the Order's message, sent via Kreacher, and she had instructed Moody that he would find the location of the meeting on the lamppost, at precisely three in the afternoon. From there, he would be given directions to the meeting place. He would have to proceed to that place immediately, and she would meet him there. If he did not show by five minutes after the hour, she would be gone. Moody grudgingly gave her credit for her caution. The Order would not be able to stake out or otherwise inspect the meeting place prior to the meeting.

Moody arrived at the lamppost and examined it. The writing on the post was the same as it had been over twenty years previous. Scowling, Moody glanced at a clock in a storefront display and found that he still had a few minutes before the appointed time. Feeling awkward, Moody stood looking at the lamppost until three, when the writing abruptly changed, giving the name and location of a small tea shop in Glasgow.

"Smart," he growled, realizing that apparating to Glasgow would take time and magical energy. Working quickly with his five minute window, Moody used his wand to copy the information onto the sidewalk next to the lamppost, so that James and Sirius would be able to follow before apparating north to Scotland.

Bellatrix sat in the tea shop with her back to the wall of the room's darkest corner-not that the room was all that dark. It was a ladies tea shop, after all. She smirked as she observed Alastor Moody warily enter the shop, hostilely eying the clientele who were fearfully staring at his magical eye. He picked his way across the room, fending off the attentions of the hostess, and sat down at Bellatrix's table-not across from her, but to her side, so that he too had a view of the entire room.

"Miss Black," he said gruffly, "or is it Mrs. Ashworth?"

Bellatrix smiled. "It's Mrs. Black, actually. Harry was, or perhaps even is, Mr. Black."

"So you married Mr. Ashworth, eh?" Moody said, glaring at a server who arrived to take his order.

Bellatrix smiled at the server and ordered a basic assortment of tea and sandwiches. When the server left, she continued the conversation. "I did marry him," she said. "As you may have guessed, we then assumed control of the House of Black's assets. You could say that was the main purpose of the marriage. The marriage contract provided that I would have sole power over the House of Black in the event that Harry should die."

"Did Harry die?" Moody asked.

"Define die," Bellatrix said, smiling because she knew that Moody would be irritated.

Moody thumped the table. "How about you cooperate with me?"

"I am cooperating," Bellatrix retorted. "I am sitting here enduring your questions, aren't I?"

"Did you kill Walburga Black," Moody asked suddenly.

"No," Bellatrix said. "I did confront her and order Kreacher to not allow her to leave the house. I intended to milk her for any information I could get on the Dark Lord. Annoyingly, the old biddy did herself in."

"Where have you been for all of these years?" Moody inquired.

Bellatrix shrugged. "The years passed by in a blur. To be honest, I cannot account for my whereabouts."

"What did you do? Overdose on potions? Get locked up in the St. Walpurgis Magical Maladies Ward?"

Bellatrix was not amused. "Why did you want to meet with me?"

"I'm here to tell you that Dumbledore wants to meet with you and discuss things," Moody said.

"You could have relayed that via Kreacher," Bellatrix snapped.

"You are perceptive," Moody said, complimenting her, albeit a little bit backhandedly. "I'm mostly here to confirm your identity prior to us arranging a meeting between you and Professor Dumbledore."

"Well, here I am," Bellatrix said. "What more proof do you need?"

"Perhaps you could explain why it is you still appear to be only seventeen or eighteen years old at the most," Moody suggested. "If you really were Bellatrix Black, you would be about forty years old by now."

Bellatrix quirked a small smile. "The potions I overdosed on were of the de-aging variety. I was obsessed with maintaining my youthful appearance."

"Don't feed me that tripe!" Moody barked. "I can see that your body is still underdeveloped as if you were still in the very late stages of puberty. De-aging potions aren't that good."

"The maladies ward had the most wonderful skin care spa," Bellatrix continued, seemingly oblivious to Moody's anger.

"How many times did you kick Lucius Malfoy in the crotch before I stopped you, the last time I saw you and Harry Ashworth?" Moody demanded.

"It was Rodolphus Lestrange, dimwit," Bellatrix retorted. "And the answer is once."

"Very good," Moody said, desperately trying to think of obscure questions to which only he and Bellatrix would know the answers. However, he had not associated with her often enough to provide him material, so he came up dry.

"Maybe you can tell me why he's already on the loose," Bellatrix said.

"Bureaucrats," Moody grumbled absently. "I need more proof of your identity," he told her.

"Do you trust the verification methods of Gringotts?" Bellatrix asked.

Moody rubbed his chin. "Yes, at least as far as it relates to disbursement of money."

"Good," Bellatrix said, grabbing her purse and removing her wallet from inside. She wrote out a bank draft, payable to Moody and then handed it to him. "Cash that and buy yourself something nice. It should establish that I am Bellatrix Black and that I have control over the Black assets." She then removed some Muggle cash from her wallet and set it on the table just as the server returned with the tea and sandwiches.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Moody asked.

"It would be far more fun to imagine you eating alone at this table in a ladies tea shop," Bellatrix replied. "We'll make arrangements for my interview with Professor Dumbledore via Kreacher," she told him before leaving the restaurant.

Moody sat at the table contemplating the tea and sandwiches. He was not alone for long, however. James Potter and Sirius Black joined him after Bellatrix had been gone for a few minutes. Sirius grabbed one of the sandwiches and scarfed it down.

"Looked like Bella to me," he commented. "She's the mirror image of the Bella I knew back then."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Moody groused, taking a sandwich and prying the bread apart. Unable to overcome his suspicion, he left it that way on the plate, having decided not to eat it. "That woman could be an imposter going off a photograph from Bellatrix's school days."

He picked up the bank draft Bellatrix had left and examined it. It was made from a stiff, gray parchment. Above the Black family crest was inscribed the phrase, "The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." Beneath the inscription for the amount of twenty galleons was Bellatrix's signature. It was a well-practiced signature. Indeed, aside from the two B's of Bellatrix Black, there was little that was readable, except for maybe the 'x.' However, beneath the signature line, the bank draft's security protections had recognized the signature and proclaimed it as belonging to Bellatrix.

"Let's get over to Gringotts and cash this," Moody declared.

"Sure thing," Sirius said as he and James gathered up the sandwiches and prepared to depart.