The War Heats Up

Harry once again found himself in front of Dumbledore, with the Pensieve placed in front of them on the headmaster's desk. He wondered what the old man was going to pull this time. He had also heard about the incident with his mentor.

"Sir, how is Professor Slughorn?" asked Harry quietly.

"Very lucky," said Dumbledore grimly. "The poison in his drink was not very potent, but fast reacting. If he hadn't reacted so quickly to save himself, he may not be alive today."

Harry wondered why anyone would want to poison Slughorn. Voldemort deeply respected the man, but maybe the Dark Lord had decided to get rid of the only person who had the faintest clue about his Horcruxes? Hmm ... he would have to think about this.

Dumbledore looked faintly troubled. He knew who that bottle of mead was meant for, but the fact that young Draco Malfoy did not do his homework and gave something that tasty to Slughorn, not expecting him to keep it for himself, alarmed Albus. The boy had nearly caused Slughorn's death and Albus would have to keep an eye out so that there were no more 'accidents'.

As they continued their lesson, Harry balled his hand into a fist. Really, was it so hard to use a bloody contraceptive charm or a potion? He and Daphne did it all the time! Forget them, half the students in the fifth, sixth and seventh years were so used to the charm that they could cast it in their sleep. The contraceptive potion also was not something which was difficult to brew and was available everywhere. Madam Pomfrey ensured that all the girls at Hogwarts were safe from getting pregnant. Unexpected pregnancy was just something that was unheard of in the magical world and yet, Merope was able to whip up a love potion – which was quite tricky to make, mind you – and yet could not whip up a contraceptive potion which any competent second-year student could do? But then again, it might have been deliberate. Getting pregnant might have been Merope's intention all along.

Then there was Tom Riddle Senior. Harry knew the man was not to blame for his wife's pregnancy because he was tricked into the marriage in the first place. However, there was also the fact that Merope was pregnant. Harry shook his head in disgust. Children were sacred in the magical world. There were no cases of abandonment and that was the reason there were no orphanages either. If the parents died, there was always some magical relative who would take their child into their home. If Riddle Senior had just checked up on his son and done his duty, Tom Riddle Junior might not have resorted to being the insane Dark Lord that he was! Sadly, it wasn't really the man's fault; he was tricked by Merope. He was a victim.

His opinion of them, however, only dwindled as he watched the memories.

"A locket which was worth a million Galleons was sold for ten Galleons?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Caractacus Burke was not famed for his generosity," said Dumbledore casually. "So we know that, near the end of her pregnancy, Merope was alone in London and in desperate need of gold, desperate enough to sell her one and only valuable possession, the locket that was one of Marvolo's treasured family heirlooms ... she also stopped using magic, if I had to guess, after her husband abandoned her. It is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen. In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her wand even to save her own life."

Harry shook his head in disgust. "She wouldn't even stay alive for her own son?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Lord Voldemort?"

"Of course I'm feeling sorry for the young Tom Riddle," said Harry, sounding annoyed, though his face remained perfectly expressionless. Sometime Dumbledore wondered how he did that; it reminded him again of his old friend, Gellert Grindelwald, who was a natural Occlumens himself.

"It was Marvolo Gaunt's fault for the way he mistreated his daughter. It was Merope's fault for dosing Riddle Senior with a love potion," said Harry angrily. "It was her fault that she was stupid enough to not use a contraceptive potion to prevent herself from getting pregnant. She could have slipped a male contraceptive potion in her husband's drink and he would have been none the wiser. It was ridiculous of her to have stopped feeding him the love potion. It was immoral of Riddle Senior to have left his unborn son without any help. It was Merope's fault for getting swindled out of Salazar's locket, denying Tom his inheritance. It was again Merope and Riddle's fault that she died in the orphanage, leaving Tom with the tender care of those filthy Muggles. None of this was Tom's fault at all! He was just an innocent child, a newborn infant! He suffered for years because of his parents' mistakes, so I will say that yes, I feel bad for one Tom Marvolo Riddle!"

Dumbledore was speechless. This was not something he had expected from Harry at all. The boy was supposed to see Voldemort as pure evil, but how could he do that if he was feeling sorry for Voldemort?

"I see," said Dumbledore slowly. "If you'll care to watch the next memory, Harry, we'll see more of what I've collected."

As they came out of the Pensieve half an hour later, Harry didn't react at all. He had seen this memory before after all, but he had not seen the part where Dumbledore had spoken to Mrs Cole. He had to wonder how many other magical children were suffering like this in Muggle orphanages without help. Tom and Dylan couldn't be the only ones, could they?

"Harry?" asked Dumbledore, frowning at the still boy.

"You suspected him for every small infraction that took place at Hogwarts the minute he entered the school, didn't you?" asked Harry casually. "You believed the words of a Muggle and saw him as evil and branded him so. No wonder he turned out like that if he was forced to go back to that hellhole every summer."

Dumbledore's frown deepened. "What was wrong with Mrs Cole's assessment of Tom?" he asked shrewdly, though he thought he knew the answer. "Was it because she was a Muggle?"

"Of course," Harry answered, his eye twitching in annoyance. "Her opinion of Tom was clouded by the fact that he was unnatural, a freak," spat Harry. "She would never have protected Tom from the older bullies because she believed something was wrong with him. Didn't you hear? 'We thought she was from a circus.' Did you think her opinion would have stayed with her? How many would have harassed Tom because of her comments? It's the same all over again! 'Lestrange is such a strange name, isn't it? The boy is weird'; 'My sister Lily was a whore and she got knocked up and had to marry this drunken layabout who died in a car crash, with their bastard of a child ruining our perfectly good home!' All of them are the same! You should never have sent him back to that place again!"

"Not all children are abused, Harry," said Dumbledore, his eyes turning slightly cold. "Just because you and Dylan –"

"And how would you know that Tom wasn't abused?" hissed Harry angrily. "It's not like Mrs Cole would have admitted that she tried to get an exorcism done on the boy! No one ever reveals such information until it is forced out of us!"

"Exorcism?" asked Dumbledore sharply.

"It's a Muggle procedure," Harry said bitterly, "to take care of 'demons' and 'ghosts' that have possessed Muggles. Do you have any idea how scary it is to undergo something like that as a child? I was merely five years old when the Dursleys subjected that to me! Dylan was six years old when they did it to him! It was done to Tom too!"

"And how do you know that?" asked Dumbledore. "Harry, I see the problem. You are getting confused. This is Voldemort we are talking about. You are trying to validate your claims that Voldemort was not at fault! Didn't you hear of the boy's atrocities? The incident in the cave where he tortured two children? The incident when he killed that rabbit? When he stole from his enemies? Yes, I kept a keen eye on him when he came to Hogwarts, but it was not unfounded because he opened the Chamber of Secrets and let loose the Basilisk that petrified several students, finally killing one Ravenclaw girl. Yes, I don't deny that Voldemort suffered, but you are seeing everything from your point of view! That is not how he was!"

Actually, I was seeing everything from his point of view. I have the unique advantage of having all his memories.

Harry took a deep breath as he mentally kicked himself. Such a subject really rattled him because it came very close to home. He could never get over the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys; it was a scar that would never fade and he knew that Dylan felt the same. The horrors Dylan had endured at the orphanage for eleven years had left him a shell, nothing more. It was only because of the constant attention which Harry, Daphne, Sirius and Amelia showered on him that helped Dylan get back up and boost his self-confidence.

Either way, he had revealed more than he had intended to Albus Dumbledore. It was time to do some damage control, even if it meant apologising. His pride was just not worth the repercussions of Dumbledore not revealing any more secrets – or worse, suspecting him of having access to Voldemort's memories.

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Harry quietly. "You're right. This is Voldemort we are talking about. But it would have been tactful of you to have avoided showing me that memory considering my own traumatised past. I have not forgotten my childhood with the Dursleys nor have I forgotten what happened to my brother."

"I'm glad you realise that, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "I think we shall stop here for tonight."

"Good night, sir," said Harry as he got up from the chair and made his way out of the room.

Fawkes trilled softly behind him. Dumbledore sighed and closed his eyes in despair. Was that one decision of leaving Harry with Petunia the cause of so much trouble?

"How I wish I could fix that mistake, Fawkes. How I dearly wish I could."

The phoenix trilled mournfully for his companion.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Light snow was falling from the evening sky in London. Several witches and wizards were walking around Diagon Alley, obviously wanting to do a bit of shopping for Yule before the alley would be packed with people in a few days. It was about six in the evening, with activated lighting charms, bathing the alley and the various shops in bright, colourful light. The festive mood was in the air and people were starting to wonder why there hadn't been any more attacks from the Death Eaters in quite some time now.

The masked men and woman quietly applied their Disillusionment Charms from where they were standing at the mouth of Knockturn Alley. They wouldn't stay invisible for long, though. What was the point in attacking the alley if people didn't know that the Death Eaters were the ones who were responsible? They also had a target to kidnap – Florean Fortescue. His grandson, Lord Fortescue, was stirring trouble in the Wizengamot for the Dark Lord, so this should send out a message to him and the rest. According to what Rabastan had heard, Sirius Black was quite frustrated that the Wizengamot wasn't willing to agree on anything and vote on the bills which would help the Ministry win the war. But even without the Wizengamot's support, Minister Black was doing everything possible to make things more difficult for the Dark Lord; the black market was a perfect example. Getting illegal supplies had become infinitely more difficult nowadays.

"Remember our orders," said Rabastan to the dozen Death Eaters he had under his command. "Cause mayhem, but don't kill people outright; we don't want a mass rebellion. If people fight back, feel free to kill them. In fact, we have received a tip that there are two Order members who are on patrol in the alley today. Eliminate them. Also, destroy Fortescue's shop when you kidnap him. Is everyone ready?"

When they nodded, the group headed out and stood near the ice cream shop. With an identical snap, their Disillusionment Charms were deactivated and the people around them stood rigidly, staring at them in shock until they realised what was happening.

There was a sound like an explosion going off as the Death Eaters started their raid. Jets of light flew from their wands as more and more buildings were damaged. A group of Death Eaters moved towards Fortescue's ice cream shop as they blasted the entrance open, injuring several people in the process. Rabastan grinned maniacally behind his mask as he saw the two Order members rushing towards the disturbance. One of them was that stupid Muggle-loving blood traitor – he was of no consequence because he was not very skilled in combat, but the other one would be a worthy challenge.

Snape's information was accurate.

In the scuffle, Rabastan's mask dropped to the ground, destroyed, displaying his face to everyone. He didn't stop though. The grey eyes glinted in delight as he saw the look of shock and sheer terror etched on the two faces as they recognised him. The jets of green light impacted the bodies as they fell to the ground, dead.

Three of the new recruits were killed by the Aurors during the fight, but it was worth it. Two members of the Order of the Phoenix had been killed, the wizarding public was more terrified than before, and a message had been sent to Sirius Black and the Wizengamot.

Rabastan Lestrange was happy. Now, he would have to patiently wait for a week. The Dark Lord had a plan ... a plan that would bring Dylan back home. Finally, Rabastan would be able to meet his son that he had been pining for so long.

Of course, the Dark Lord also wanted Harry Potter, but Rabastan was more interested in Dylan. Too bad he could not take part in the kidnapping.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

DEATH EATERS ATTACK DIAGON ALLEY!

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop destroyed

Florean kidnapped by Death Eaters

AURORS KILL THREE MORE DEATH EATERS DURING THE ATTACK!

Fifty people reported to have suffered serious injuries – have been transferred to St Mungo's Hospital for treatment

RABASTAN LESTRANGE STRIKES AGAIN!

MINISTRY EMPLOYEES ARTHUR WEASLEY AND EMMELINE VANCE MURDERED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!

"Plans to install emergency warning system at the Ministry and other key areas have been approved by the Wizengamot; will be up and running within a week," says Amelia Black, Head of the D.M.L.E.

"My condolences to all the affected families," said Minister of Magic Sirius Black. "We are doing everything in our power to end the war as soon as possible."

DIAGON ALLEY ON LOCKDOWN FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS!

There was deathly silence in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. All of them were intently reading the newspaper – the Weasleys had already left the school late last night when Dumbledore had informed them of the news. There were many eyes which were looking at the brown haired boy at the Ravenclaw table who was reading the newspaper with a blank look on his face. The boy's grey eyes kept staring at the picture of Rabastan Lestrange who seemed to be firing curses everywhere, a maniacal grin on his face. Dylan could feel the eyes boring into him from every corner of the Great Hall. Some were weary, but most looked hateful. The hate which was present at the beginning of his arrival at Hogwarts was back; and this time, Dylan didn't blame them. His father had killed two people and injured several others – some of whom had relatives at Hogwarts. He didn't know how he would look at the Weasleys in the face again.

Dylan closed his eyes as he heard a few angry whispers which mentioned his name. Closing the paper, he got up, noting that everyone was now staring at him as though he would start killing them in an instant, and walked out of the Great Hall without a backward glance.

Astoria was about to stand up and go after him but Daphne put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head. When Astoria turned around, she noticed that Harry had walked out of the Hall too. Nodding to her sister, Astoria quietly sat down.

Both the Greengrass sisters were incensed. How was Dylan responsible for the actions of the father he had never met?

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Dylan Lestrange was sitting near the lake at his favourite spot with his knees pressed to his chest. This was a place he had found in his first year after having to brave the school's hatred of him for being the son of the hated Death Eater Rabastan Lestrange. He had always known that his father was a killer and had mercilessly tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity with the help of his Uncle Rodolphus and Aunt Bellatrix, but seeing it like this was like a slap in the face.

He couldn't deny it anymore. His father was a cold-blooded murderer; he had raped an innocent sixteen-year-old Muggle-born girl and Dylan had been the result. Even his mother had named him Lestrange only to spite her attacker. Why? Couldn't she have given him some other name, anything which didn't bring him so much misery? What else did he get? Oh yes, he got a big, fat bank account with mountains of gold, but what was the point? It's not like he cared about that anyway. He'd grown up in poverty all his life but a normal life would have been wonderful as compared to all that money. Tears stung his eyes as he wondered if his father would kill him someday too. Dylan did want to meet his father; he hadn't admitted this to anyone, not even Harry, but he wanted to meet Rabastan and find out once, just once, if the man would accept him as his son.

But now, all those feeling seemed to have become numb. He couldn't even picture Fred and George Weasley's faces anymore. The glares being directed his way did not help matters at all; why didn't anyone realise that he was a victim too? Tears leaked from his grief-stricken grey eyes and down his pale cheeks. He felt someone sit next to him and suddenly, he was crying unashamedly on his brother's chest as Harry hugged him tightly. Dylan hadn't cried in a long time now, but today was a day he had finally lost control. Harry remained silent as he gently rocked Dylan back and forth as he rubbed the boy's back soothingly, trying to calm him down.

After a few minutes, Dylan calmed down but hiccupped. Harry conjured a glass and filled it with water. He gently placed it at Dylan's mouth like his brother had done for him several months ago and made him drink. Several gulps of water later, Dylan wrapped his arms around Harry and he rested his head on his brother's shoulder, staring at the frozen lake.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Harry softly.

Dylan tightened his grip around his brother. "I – I don't know where to start," he whispered. "I had always known the crimes he had committed were numerous, but it was all in the past. But this time it is so real. I can't ignore it. The fact that Fred and George lost their father because my father is – is ... I don't know what to say."

"Even after everyone told me that he was a mass murderer, even after I found out what he did to the Longbottoms, I had always wanted to meet him," said Dylan quietly. "Even after I realised what he did to my mother, I still wanted to meet him. I wanted to know if he would ever accept me as his son, or if I was just a bastard child born because he got carried away. Even if he would never love me, I had always hoped that he would at the very least acknowledge me. But now, I don't want to be known as his son. I'm sick and tired of it all, Harry. I'm sick and tired of people always calling me a bastard child, always looking at me with terrified expressions on their faces as though I'm a ward stone with a time-delayed exploding curse on it, and I am tired of them blaming me for my father's mistakes."

Harry smiled sadly as he hugged his brother closer, kissing the top of Dylan's head affectionately.

"Sometimes I wish I had never been born," said Dylan so quietly that Harry almost missed it.

Harry chuckled humourlessly. "We don't have that choice, Dylan. We don't choose the circumstance of our birth. My parents were only twenty-six years old when they died and I was the reason they were murdered. Voldemort might have still gone after them because of them being in the Order of the Phoenix, but the main reason they died was because of a prophecy hanging over my head saying that I would be the one to finally defeat Voldemort. If I had not been born ... well, I have entertained those thoughts for a long time, but they make no difference."

Harry lifted Dylan's chin so that they were looking at each other. "I don't know about anyone else, but I'm glad that you came into my life," he said quietly. "With your arrival, I found a boy whom I love as my brother, someone who I know I can trust with my life. You and Daphne are the reason I fight this war; both of you are the most important people in my life."

"My life changed in ways you can never imagine once I met you and Daphne. You may think that nothing would have changed if you had not been born, but I say different. I would not be the person I am today if you had not existed. You are an inspiration to me, not to mention a mirror to how I could have been. Even after all that you have faced, you still remain pure at heart like you were at the age of eleven when you had a look of shock on your face when I wished you happy birthday. I don't know if your father will ever accept you or love you as a son, Dylan, but know that I will always consider you my little brother and I would love you to the end of time."

Dylan threw his arms around Harry's neck as he hugged him tightly, more tears flowing down his cheeks as he heard Harry's heartfelt speech. It was very, very rare for Harry to speak out like this, but Dylan cherished them whenever he heard it.

"Thank you, Harry," said Dylan softly. "I will always consider you my brother too. You're right. I don't need my father's acceptance. As long as I have you, everything will be fine in my life. I love you too."

Harry simply smiled as they sat there in silence, emotions running high in both of them.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

The next few days were quite sombre at Hogwarts, so it was a relief when the Hogwarts Express took them to London. Not wanting to make him deal with the students any more than he had to, Harry had Portkeyed him and Dylan back to Potter Castle. Many parents too did not want their children travelling via the train so they were waiting outside the gates of Hogwarts to Apparate them back home. There was no telling what the Death Eaters might do to seize power.

"Home sweet home," muttered Dylan as he saw the familiar entrance hall at Potter Castle.

"It is so good to be back," Harry smiled as they walked up the stairs to their rooms. A relaxing shower later, Harry walked out of his room and entered the room next to his and saw Dylan already practising the Transfiguration exercises required for his Animagus transformation.

"How's it going?" asked Harry, taking a seat on the armchair in the large room.

"I managed to do the paws," said Dylan excitedly. "Both my hands and feet are paws with brown fur, and I have a distinct feeling that I am a canine of some kind."

"Canine? Oh, Daphne is going to be so pissed."

Dylan rolled his eyes. Daphne thought she had a pretty good idea what her Animagus form was going to be. It wasn't that difficult to figure out when she saw the striped orange and black coat. Her Patronus also gave her a distinct advantage in finding out what her form might be.

"I still don't know what kind of canine, though," said Dylan as he tried to transfigure more of his legs. "Maybe a dog, like Uncle Sirius?"

"You'll know once you fully transform," said Harry. "Knowing that you are a canine would most definitely help speed up the process. You are actually doing better than I expected. I think you would be done by April or May, so keep trying and don't give up. Now, let's work on the upper body transfiguration. This is more complex as the organs here are what keep you alive. The body of a human and that of a canine ..."

It took the rest of the day in training Dylan for the Animagus transformation. They had a quick dinner and retreated to their bedrooms for the night. After a conversation with their respective girlfriends, they went to bed.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

"Severus, have you confirmed that they are indeed staying at their castle tonight?" asked Voldemort, his red eyes narrowing at the Potions Master. "Only the two of them?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Severus blandly. "I was not able to verify if there were others in the castle, but that dunderhead thief Fletcher let slip that the two of them are staying there for the night but moving to Black Manor tomorrow."

"Good, very good," said Voldemort, smirking victoriously. "You are dismissed."

"What am I to tell Dumbledore, my Lord?" asked Snape after hesitating for a moment.

Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow. "You can't tell him something you don't know, Severus. Now leave!"

"Yes, my Lord, I apologise," said Snape as he backtracked, walking out of the room. He had a funny feeling that Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange would soon have company.

Voldemort moved to his private office in Riddle Manor and removed a small stone basin which seemed to be shimmering, emitting a silvery light. With a wave of his hand, he sliced a thin line on his palm, letting the drops of blood fall into the basin. His smirk widened as he saw the potion change colour.

Ever since Harry had escaped his clutches in the graveyard not far from his manor, he knew that he could exploit the blood connection he and the boy shared to kidnap Potter. After all, the same blood which flowed in Potter's veins was what sustained him as well. However, there was a small problem.

Intent was very powerful in magical rituals, and he realised that the way in which he had forcefully taken Harry's blood during his resurrection ritual would not give him access to the family magic. All magical families, new or old, tended to guard their blood using rituals; but these rituals were never foolproof. Blood magic was one of the biggest weapons a wizard could have over another. So many magical royal and noble families in the past had ended because their enemies used their blood against them.

The Potter family had been nearly been driven to extinction the same way when one of the sons used his blood to launch surprise attacks against his own family. Voldemort had prepared for this mission extensively, studying every detail he had managed to recover on the Potter Massacre. Studying Harry's blood made him realise that the Potter family had taken drastic measures to ensure their blood was never used against them again. That was the reason, Voldemort mused, why Dumbledore had never managed to find Harry all those years ago when the boy had disappeared.

Smart, the Potters may have been, but their magic was centuries old; in other words, outdated, and Harry Potter was not experienced, knowledgeable or old enough to strengthen the protections in his blood – the proof was the boy's blood running in the Dark Lord's veins.

Voldemort flicked his wand, disabling various protective enchantments as he carefully placed a weird looking silver instrument on his desk. This was one of his greatest inventions, and if he was not the Dark Lord, Voldemort was sure that the title of Grand Sorcerer would have been bestowed upon him for his work on blood magic. This instrument, a ward inhibitor, would allow him to send his Death Eaters into Potter Castle without triggering the castle's defences. The Dark Lord couldn't even describe the effort he had put into the invention, but it was worth it. Having the boy of the prophecy on his side would be invaluable to Voldemort. He poured the modified potion containing Harry's blood into the silver instrument. It immediately began puffing, but it would need to be very close to the wards for it to work properly. Potter Castle's wards might be impressive, but Lord Voldemort was better.

It was a shame that his best Death Eaters were abroad, recruiting more people for his cause. No matter, the infamous werewolf had not let him down yet.

"The curse-breaker will help you gain entry, Greyback," said Voldemort coldly as he entered his throne room where the werewolf and the curse-breaker were kneeling before him. "Malcolm is very talented, but he will be drained once he gets you inside so he will be Apparating back here. You are to get into the castle and capture both boys. Do not kill them, understood? I want them whole and relatively unharmed. The team you are taking may be new recruits and werewolves, but I expect you to fulfil the mission to the letter. If you succeed in kidnapping Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange, you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams."

"Yes, my Lord," said Greyback, but he cursed his luck in not being able to feast on the two handsome young boys. He wondered if he could do so after the Dark Lord killed them. As long as he had tasty flesh, he didn't care.

In the entrance hall of Riddle Manor, Greyback grinned manically at the group of Death Eaters and werewolves.

"We'll be raiding Potter Castle tonight," said Greyback, licking his lips. "To victory!"

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

On top of a large hill in the middle of Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire, twenty-odd kilometres from the Muggle city of Nottingham stood an expansive and regal looking castle amidst hundreds of acres of land covered in snow. It was three-thirty in the morning and everything was quiet. The lake was frozen but the magical moat around the castle churned, displaying that at least one of the extensive wards around the castle was active. Statues of various magical creatures that stood at various places in the grounds and the suits of armour inside the castle were all at rest. The massive blue flag bearing the Potter crest which was placed on top of the highest tower fluttered against the wind. The ancient castle really looked breathtaking in its slow covered form.

The paintings inside were snoozing, but suddenly went rigid as though they had been frozen. The house-elves all around the castle dropped like statues and began sleeping soundly. The corridors and rooms were eerily quiet. There was no movement – living or dead. Alfred Potter was currently not staying at home, having chosen to attend the annual ghosts' winter conference.

"Beautiful place, isn't it?" whispered Malcolm as he activated the enchantments which made the house-elves and portraits fall asleep.

The silver instrument which he held in his hand that contained Harry Potter's blood puffed as he breached a tiny opening in the wards. He waited for a moment, ensuring that it didn't trigger the second layer defences until he expanded the opening, neutralizing several protections placed by the Potter family. After he punctured the anti-Apparation ward which would allow for the Death Eaters to slip through undetected, he placed the instrument on the ground with charms around it so that it interfered with Harry Potter's connection with the wards surrounding the ancient structure.

"You can enter the castle," said Malcolm, holding back a sneer at the werewolf. "The trail I have cleared for you should lead you to the Apparition point. Once you're there, you'll have only one shot to Apparate through the stone fortress and immediately again into the castle, so make it count! I don't need to tell you what happens should you fail."

Greyback bared his yellow, pointed teeth at the curse-breaker, but nodded to his comrades. A group of sixteen wizards and werewolves made their way to the Apparition point and turned on the spot to slip through the fortress, and again to enter the castle. With a crack, they found themselves in a cellar.

"Where are we?" breathed one of the Death Eaters.

"Probably in the dungeons," answered Greyback gruffly. "Spread out in teams of four. Look everywhere for the boys, but remember, don't harm them."

Just as they crossed the threshold, Harry's emerald green eyes snapped open in confusion.