A Promise Kept - Chapter 74 - A Way In

A Way In

“Well, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, you don’t do anything by half measures, do you?” Wendell asked amusedly, pulling Harry into a tight embrace. “Seriously, I couldn’t be happier for you.”

Harry frowned at his friend.

“What, no telling me that you told me so, no smugness for all the times I brushed it off as nothing?”

“It will come,” Wendell assured him with a grin. “For now, I’m too happy for you, Harry. I always knew how much the two of you liked each other, and now, you’re going to have one of those irritatingly cute babies.”

Harry could only shake his head.

“How are things coming along for the wedding?”

“I’ve learned to keep quiet. Between my mother, Isabelle’s mother, and Isabelle, they’ve got it covered. According to them, I just need to be present to give my vows. Honestly, I prefer it that way. I’m clueless when it comes to colour schemes, flowers, and all that stuff. What about you, are you going to ask Sabine to marry you?”

“I think we’re still getting used to the idea of being parents, I know her, She will not want to be planning a wedding when she’s pregnant.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t make your intentions clear,” Wendell pointed out. “Come on, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

“Do most people look happy when they’re terrified?”

“Of doing the same thing humans have been doing for thousands of years?”

Harry released a deep breath.

“Not just that. If Voldemort…”

Wendell held up a hand.

“Don’t even go there, Harry. We both now that there isn’t a hope in hell he will get within one hundred feet of that baby. I’ll bet you’ve already put every possible protection in place. That house of yours is a fortress, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but it will never feel like it is enough. That is why I’ve taken extra steps that I have told no one else about. If the worst is to happen to me and Sabine, I want you and Isabelle to take the baby. I have set aside a vault with more gold than you will need, and…”

Wendell placed hand on his shoulder and nodded solemnly.

“I will protect your son or daughter with my life, Harry. You don’t even have to ask. That won’t need to happen, so, let’s not even think about it until we need to. You’ll get through this, and there’s not a single one of us who doubts it.”

Harry nodded appreciatively, knowing that Wendell meant every word he’d said.

At worst, he knew his child would be protected, just as he’d been by Sirius when he and his mother had needed it most.

“I can only imagine how difficult he is to live with,” Marisa commented, shooting Harry a pointed look.

“I wouldn’t know, it’s not as though he is home much,” Sabine replied.

“No, he has a way of gallivanting around,” Olivia sighed. “Even when we were at school, I didn’t see him around the common room much. He’d be awake before everyone else and be the last to come back.”

“I was busy,” Harry defended.

“Busy with what?” Sabine asked curiously.

“You, some of the time.”

The woman blushed and narrowed her eyes at him.

“And causing trouble, I bet.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Isabelle interjected. “How many detentions did you get in first year.”

Harry shrugged.

“A few.”

“Seventy-one,” his mother announced. “I remember reading your report for the year.”

Harry grimaced.

“Maybe getting into trouble is a genetic thing.”

“You’d best hope not. Well, if it is, I look forward to you being the one dealing with a troublemaking child,” his mother said with a grin.

“No, I will send them to their grandmother to be dealt with. She has more experience than me.”

His mother quirked an eyebrow at him, and Sabine tutted.

It had been two months since she’d arrived, and though the war still seemed to be in something of a lull, it didn’t mean Harry had been any less busy.

His duties as the Minister of Magic kept him more than occupied enough, as had keeping up with the running of the new house and preparing for the inevitable arrival of the baby; something he would rather welcome after the Dark Lord was dead.

Riddle had been a little too quiet for Harry’s liking.

Ever since the werewolf attack in Aldershot, the man had been silent, but that didn’t mean he was idle.

No, Harry knew him well enough to know that he was once again scheming, planning, and would make another bold move he would need to be prepared for. What that was, however, remained to be seen.

“You’re frowning again,” Sabine spoke quietly, nudging him with her shoulder.

He offered her a smile.

She’d always been beautiful, and somehow, her pregnancy only made her more so.

“I’m just thinking.”

“Unless it is about rubbing my feet later, you can put it out of your mind, for now. Arthur is covering for you today.”

Harry nodded, and allowed himself to simply enjoy having his friends all together again. It was often that they were able to gather like this, and he wanted to enjoy the snatched moment of peace knowing that little else in his life would be so for some time.

Not if Riddle had anything to say about it, at least.

Still, he couldn’t help his mind drifting to just what the man might be up to, what he was planning, and just how he would decide to impose himself on the people of Britain next.

With many of his resources having been taken from him now, his actions were harder to predict than ever, and if anything, that only made him all the more dangerous.

Nonetheless, until the man surfaced once more, there was little to be done, but that didn’t stop Harry pondering what was to come, what Riddle would do next, and what the next chapter of his own life had in store for him.

Fatherhood, namely, and Sabine’s mother had been looking into just how such a thing had come to be without the two of them breeching the contract signed between her father and Donald Winthrop.

“I think the two of you should see this,” Valerie insisted, placing a thick stack of parchment on the table.

Harry had reluctantly allowed the woman to visit their home.

Despite the past year or so, he knew that Sabine and the woman had been close, and knowing just how important his own mother was to him, he couldn’t be so heartless to keep her away, even if he wanted to.

“What is it?” Sabine asked.

“A scandal from quite some time ago,” her mother explained. “It turns out that some centuries ago, when MACUSA was first formed, they began the process of keeping birth and death records.”

She began sorting through the pile of parchment, placing a single document in front of them.

“Excelsior Winthrop, died 1685,” Sabine read.

Her mother hummed as she added another document.

“Dalton Winthrop, born 1679. Mother is listed as Constance Winthrop, and the father is not named.”

“Very scandalous for the time,” Valerie said gravely. “A child born out of wedlock was frowned upon, but Constance was the sister of Excelsior, and her son…”

“The only surviving male of the family,” Harry finished. “So, he inherited everything.”

“He did,” Valerie confirmed, “but what is more interesting is this…”

Placing another document on the table, she grinned victoriously.

Harry’s eyebrows rose as he read it, the name mentioned a familiar one that Adrian had mentioned to him his first night at Ilvermorny.

“Abraham Potter,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Was named as Dalton’s guardian, even though there was no connection between them. Of course, it was done secretly, and I had to call in a few favours at the Department of Births and Deaths to get my hands on this. But it seems as though it was worth it.

“Abraham was his father, wasn’t he?” Harry grumbled.

“It is the only explanation,” Valerie said thoughtfully, “which explains why the contract between Sabine and the Winthrop boy was not broken. You are related to him.”

“Shouldn’t the contract be a little more specific?”

“No, the contract states a match between a member from each family, and it is fully sealed when the marriage certificate is signed,” Valerie explained. “Of course, if Winthrop had died before he could give the vows, Donald would have had a replacement in line to fulfil it. It turns out, that you beat them to it by getting Sabine pregnant.”

Harry could only shake his head, and Sabine began to giggle.

“It seems that being a cad runs in your family, Harry,” she deadpanned.

Her mother hummed, and Harry cursed and equally thanked his ancestor for being such a damned delinquent, though, he could not profess to be any better.

“Bloody Abraham Potter,” he muttered.

Sabine quirked an eyebrow at him.

“He must be your favourite person,” she mused aloud. “If he hadn’t been such a…:

“Randy git?”

“We wouldn’t be where we are now.”

Hary smiled at the thought.

Truthfully, he couldn’t be happier with how things had turned out. Of course, nothing about their situation had been conventional, but nothing else in his life had either.

Still, he was here now, with the young woman he’d never been able to get off his mind, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yes, you’re a very lucky man, Harry James Potter, and don’t you forget it,” Sabine warned, eliciting a smile from him.

“I know,” he assured her. “Believe me, I know.”

(Break)

Godric’s Hollow.

He’d all but vowed to himself that he would not return to this place. It had brought him nothing but misery, setbacks, and an undeniable sense of unease he could not shift whilst he stood here.

It was as though his mere presence offended something he could not see, but the Dark Lord could feel it watching him, tracing every step with disapproval, and making its presence known through the blasted cold that seeped into his very being.

Doing his utmost to ignore it, he opened the kissing gates leading into the graveyard and further ignored the source of the latest inconvenience he’d experienced.

He’d been certain hat disturbing the Potter graves would have a detrimental effect on his foe, but instead, Harry had doubled down on his stubbornness, had found a way to return the gesture, only in a much more unpleasant manner.

His mother.

He would never forget those days that the essence of the woman haunted him so and was glad she had been returned from whence she came.

This evening, however, was not about his mother, and nor was it about Potter.

No, he was here on the off chance that Dumbledore had taken his darkest secret to the grave, the secret that he had possessed the fabled elder wand upon defeating Grindelwald some five decades prior.

If so, the wand would belong to the Dark Lord, or so he hoped.

His own deductions whilst discussing the matter with Gregorovitch had been sobering to say the least, and if the law of conquest had indeed followed, possessing the wand itself would mean nothing.

Still, he could keep out of Potter’s grasp, if the young man did not already possess it. There was only one way to find out.

With little more than a gesture of his own wand, he removed the earth covering his former foe, and found himself looking upon a rather gawdy glass coffin housing Dumbledore’s remains.

Although it had been some years since he’d perished, the man appeared as though he might just be sleeping, his expression one of peace, and yet, the Dark Lord felt anything but.

In his clasped hands resting across his chest was indeed a wand, but it was not made of elder. No, instead of a pale white, the wand he held was a deep brown, undoubtedly the very same one presented to him when he’d visited Ollivander’s before he’d started at Hogwarts.

Just to be certain, the Dark Lord carefully opened the coffin and relieved the former headmaster of it, only to wince as the wand protested his touch, burning his hand in response.

No, this was not the elder wand at all, and his nostrils flared in irritation.

If Dumbledore did not have the wand, then where was it?

His mind drifted to the worst possible scenario, and although he was certain the old man would not have told Potter about it, the Dark Lord could not help but think that the blasted man might just possess it.

Of course, it was not an unbeatable wand. Even the legends were clear on that, but the very thought alone of Potter having its loyalty was disconcerting.

Nonetheless, it would take more than one man with a wand and a few tricks up his sleeve to deter Lord Voldemort.

He would not deny that possessing the wand himself would’ve been quite the boon to his efforts, but it mattered not.

His plans were already in motion, and he would see them through to the end, until Potter was lifeless at his feet, and Britain was his for the taking.

(Break)

There was little enjoyment to be had in Ministry of Magic meetings. Usually, Arthur Weasley would manage the mundane ones, and Harry was able to sit on the ones pertaining to Riddle. This one, however, the redhead insisted upon, and so he found himself sitting in his office with a grim Arthur, and Amelia Bones.

The former handed each of them a thick file of parchment, and nodded, urging them to read them.

From the moment he did so, Harry found himself quite engrossed with the contents, though the more he read, the harder it became to keep his temper in check.

“I’m sorry it took so long to put this together,” Arthur spoke, interrupting him, “but I wanted to make sure there was nothing she could do to get away with any of this.”

Harry nodded his understanding and looked towards Bones, who seemed to be torn between being furious and ecstatic.

“I expect you will want the honour, Amelia.”

She nodded as she stood, saying nothing as she took her leave of the room.

“How she managed to get away with half of this is beyond me,” Harry grumbled, once more leafing through the gathered documents.

“Fudge,” Arthur sighed. “He never checked anything she was doing. He was either completely fooled by her, or he was complicit.”

“He’s dead now,” Harry pointed out. “It doesn’t matter which.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Arthur agreed. “I usually wouldn’t take any pleasure in something like this, but I can’t deny, it feels good to be a part of her downfall. She’s a most unpleasant woman.”

“She is. Any news on what he might be up to?”

“Not a thing. It is becoming worrying, isn’t it? I mean, the raids are coming up empty, and Knockturn Alley has never been so devoid of life.”

Harry hummed.

Riddle hadn’t been responsible for anything happening in Britain, nothing known of course, but Harry was remaining steadfast in doing his utmost to drag him from the shadows.

His most prominent followers were not stupid enough to get themselves caught outside of whatever protections he was keeping them behind, and the others had seemingly learned from them.

It was frustrating to say the least.

“He’s planning something,” Arthur spoke gravely, echoing Harry’s own thoughts on the matter.

Before Harry could respond, the door to the office opened once more, and a very pleased Amelia Bones entered, offering both a nod.

“Dolores has been taken into custody,” she declared. “With the evidence you have provided Arthur, we will be able to begin a trial without delay. Great work.”

Harry nodded.

Arthur Weasley was proving to be an excellent appointment, and he didn’t doubt the man would be just as an effective replacement when the time came for him to step down, which he hoped would be sooner rather than later.

If only Riddle would stop hiding.

Once more, his thoughts drifted to just what the Dark Lord was up to, and what was taking him so long to implement it.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed as he was interrupted again, this time by the arrival of an ethereal, shaggy dog.

“Emmeline is in labour. Tullius is on his way. I will keep you informed as best as I can,” it spoke in the frantic voice of his godfather.

Harry suspected that he too would be just as terrified when Sabine went into labour, and just as clueless. Even so, he knew that whatever it was he would endure during those hours would be worth it.

He wasn’t quite sure if he was ready for fatherhood, probably not if he was being honest with himself, but it was a new challenge he would need to face, because in only a matter of months, it would be his turn to welcome a child into the world; something he was eager to begin without Riddle breathing down his neck.

(Break)

She watched as Bruce galloped across the paddock, laughing amusedly as he threw his head back, neighing and bouncing on his hooves to show his appreciation.

It was certainly colder in Britain than it was back home, but the horse didn’t seem to mind the change. If anything, Sabine’s prediction was ringing true, and her companion was enjoying the change.

Even so, she was struggling to believe that any of this was real.

She’d woken up in Harry’s arms, something she’d been thinking of since they last parted ways after her time at Malfoy Manor.

It had teased her so and only made the prospect of marrying the Winthrop boy all the more unappealing.

Sabine shook her head of the living nightmare she’d managed to be rid of. That would not come to pass. She was here now, living with Harry, and although there wasn’t clarity on what the two of them were, in this moment, she was as happy as she could be, as was Bruce, who kicked up quite the cloud of dust as he passed her by.

“I always wanted a horse when I was a little girl.”

She’d not heard Harry’s mother approaching, and she readily accepted the cup of coffee the woman offered her.

“Thank you,” Sabine said appreciatively, warming her hands on the steaming mug. “I’ve had Bruce since I was five. My father brought him for me because I wouldn’t stop asking for one. He made me agree to do everything for him, and I did. When I was at school, my mother would look after him.”

Lily nodded.

“I don’t think our neighbours would’ve appreciated there being a horse in our back garden,” she replied amusedly.

“You grew up in a muggle household.”

“I did until a few months after leaving Hogwarts when me and James got married. My parents died when we were in hiding, and my sister took everything from the house before selling it. I didn’t know any of this until after the war.”

“Your sister isn’t a witch.”

“No, Petunia is a muggle and was always jealous of me for going to Hogwarts. She grew to resent me and anything magical. I visited her a few years ago now, and nothing had changed. She married her husband, had a son who is just a little older than Harry.”

“So, it is just you and Harry.”

“And Sirius, and now you and the baby,” Lily pointed out. “I couldn’t have done any of this without Sirius. I was not in a good place for a very long time after that night. He took care of Harry whilst I grieved. I can’t even say that I have come to terms with it after all this time, and Harry reminds me so much of him in many ways.”

“He is special,” Sabine replied. “When we first met, we bumped into each other when he was leaving a classroom. I wasn’t looking where I was going, but I wouldn’t admit that. I was quite rude to him, and he was more than happy to return the sentiment. I apologised to him,” she assured the woman, “and, I don’t know. It’s almost as though ever since then, there was something there. We both ignored it for a while, well, Harry did.”

“But you didn’t?”

Sabine shook her head.

“No, I was drawn to him and found excuses to find him. Eventually, I gave up, and he managed to get a to to me right under my nose. The next thing I knew…”

She broke off and Lily urged her on.

“He snuck me out of school and took me to London. We were both in disguise, but it made me realise just what he was willing to do to prove a point.”

Lily offered her a fond smile.

“He cares so much for you. When he took you back to your parents after what happened at Malfoy Manor, he was heartbroken, and I think he still is. I am happy for the two of you, but you will need to give him time. This has been hard for him.”

Sabine placed the cup of coffee she held atop one of the fenceposts of the paddock and took Lily’s hands in her own.

“I know,” she assured the woman. “and I have no intention of rushing anything. I love him, and we have been through far too much to let anything else come between us again.”

Lily nodded appreciatively before pulling her into a gentle hug.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Sabine rolled her eyes as Bruce continued running circles around the herd of griffins. He was joined by a few of the younger chicks, who were nipping playfully at his heels.

It had become something of a game for them, and much to her relief, Aurelius, the enormous golden male took no exception to her horse’s presence.

She wouldn’t go as far to say that he liked Bruce, or was even fond of him, but he’d never shown any aggression towards him in all the time they’d been here.

Still, she herself wasn’t confident enough to approach him, or any of the others, not yet at least.

They would always look towards her curiously whenever Harry was with them, but they’d not made a move to approach, and she knew they were not quite ready to welcome her.

Harry had assured her time and again they would, but griffins were cautious by nature, protective of their young, and certainly not something you would wish to find yourself provoking the ire of.

She frowned as the suddenly stood from where they’d been roosting, their sharp eyes fixed on something behind her, and Sabine heard something whistle appreciatively.

“Marcus!” she greeted her brother.

“Wow, you really are pregnant, aren’t you,” he quipped, nodding towards her swollen belly. “He really wasn’t joking about the griffins. At least Bruce is getting along with them.”

Sabine nodded.

“You look happy,” Marcus commented.

“I am happy.”

“And Harry is looking after you?”

She quirked an eyebrow at her brother, who laughed.

“I know I don’t have to ask that, but I’d be a terrible brother if I didn’t.”

“He is looking after me,” Sabine assured him. “I have everything I could ever want here, space for Bruce to run around in, and Harry.”

Marcus offered her a sincere smile.

“I couldn’t be happier for you. Has father visited yet?”

“No,” Sabine sighed. “I think he feels as though he isn’t welcome here.”

Harry had not said as much, but it was clear that he held no fondness for the man.

“Well, when the baby comes along, I expect that will change. So, have you gotten the nursery ready yet?”

“We just finished it yesterday. Come, I’ll show you.”

“Should you leave Bruce with them?” Marcus asked worriedly.

“He loves the griffins,” Sabine said dismissively, “he spends most of the day out there, and Aurelius would let him know if he wasn’t welcome.”

“He’s the big golden one, isn’t he? I wouldn’t fancy getting on his bad side.”

Sabine laughed as she led her brother towards the house.

“Only Harry can get near him,” she explained. “He doesn’t even let his mother any closer than the fence.”

“Well, now I know not to try my luck,” Marcus snorted, almost jumping out of his skin as an ethereal falcon appeared before them.

“Emmeline is in labour, so I am just waiting to hear from Sirius about when the baby arrives. I’ll be home soon.”

Marcus cursed under his breath.

“You get used to it,” Sabine assured him, excited by the prospect of the baby being born.

“Why a falcon?” Marcus asked.

Sabine frowned thoughtfully.

“You know, I have no idea.”

She made a note to herself to ask Harry the meaning behind his patronus. Her own, she suspected, would be a horse, but she’d not quite managed a corporeal spell yet.

She was working on it knowing it was a useful way to send messages, and just in case she had further need of it.

Being here, she often forgot that Britain was at war, but as Harry had explained, all had been quiet for some time now. Not that it would last, and Sabine was certain that soon enough, she would be reminded that not all was as well in Britain as it was in her personal life.

(Break)

He would not pretend that failing to obtain the wand for himself or definitively preventing it falling into Potter’s hands had been quite the blow, but the Dark Lord had never been one to mope for long.

He’d learned at a young age that doing so solved nothing, and that any problem he faced would only be solved by action rather than lamenting on the things that didn’t quite go his way.

Of course, he’d gotten quite used to success, particularly during his first rise to power, and he did so despise experiencing anything less than a desired results.

Even so, cursing his lot had never served him, and it wouldn’t now. No, he needed to find a way to regain his momentum, to push back, something that could not be so easily wrested from him.

His gaze swept over the few that remained at his side, those he had recruited more than two decades prior, his most loyal, some of whom who’d undoubtedly changed, but were still here.

Bellatrix was certainly more subdued than usual, and she eyed him with hope, hope that he had something else up his sleeve to ensure their success.

Severus had been all but useless since what had unfolded at Malfoy Manor. Black was determined to reach the man and had employed just about every tactic possible to find him.

Nonetheless, it was always useful to have such a man nearby at his disposal, but Severus could be put to better use than lurking around the home that had belonged to the Dark Lord’s muggle relatives.

Lucius was little more than a former shadow of the man he once knew, and his whimpering whelp even less so.

Dolohov was still here, the ever-reliable duellist, as was, Jugson, Travers, and Gibbon.

That was it.

This was all that remained of his most faithful. The others had been slowly, meticulously, and viciously fallen victim to Harry Potter. The mere thought alone of the man filled him with a palpable rage, but the Dark Lord could not deny he’d proven to be a most worthy foe, one worthy of sharing a prophecy with him.

Now, however, was the time to put an end to it, to fulfil his own destiny without Potter breathing down his neck or plaguing his every thought.

“Hogwarts,” he murmured. “There must be a way in!”

Once more, his gaze roamed over those gathered, and only one of them had the temerity to meet it.

“I have only one suggestion, my lord,” Severus replied thoughtfully. “There might just be a way to learn a way in.”

“Pray, do share, Severus.”

“I think it would be better if I was to show you, my lord, and urge you to be most cautious. All is never what it seems with them, and I cannot deny that they are brilliant in their own way. If there is a way in or out of the castle, they will undoubtedly know it.”

The Dark Lord frowned before nodding.

“Then let us not stand on ceremony, Severus. You will show me our way in.”

The sallow-skinned man was nervous, troubled by his own offering, and he stood reluctantly, a deep frown marring his features, seemingly regretting the idea he’d put forth.

(Break)

He could seldom think of a time that he’d felt so nervous. The only thing that had come close was that Halloween night that Voldemort had found his way to the Potters, and Sirius had not known what it was he would be walking into when entering the house in Godric’s Hollow.

This time, however, the nervousness was mixed with excitement at the prospect of his son or daughter being born.

He looked towards the clock once more and released a deep breath.

Thirteen hours.

It was thirteen hours agon that Emmeline had gone into labour, and although he wished for nothing more than to be in there with her, Sirius knew he would only be a hindrance with all the fretting he was doing.

Lily was in there with her and Tullius, leaving Sirius to pace tirelessly whilst he waited for any news.

“Anything?” Harry asked as he and Sabine arrived in the hallway just a short distance from the bedroom he shared with Emmeline.

He shook his head.

“No, not yet,” he sighed. “How long does a birth last?”

“It can be days,” Sabine answered apologetically, “but if your child tries anything like that, Harry Potter, you will be in trouble.”

“How would that be my fault?”

“Don’t ask that question, Harry,” Sirius urged. “I’ve learned that when a woman is carrying your baby, everything is your fault. She can’t sleep at night, it’s your fault. She’s too hot, it’s your fault. Her ankles are swollen…”

“It’s my fault,” Harry grumbled. “I get the point.”

Sabine offered him a bright smile, and Sirius chuckled amusedly.

“You’re in the honeymoon phase of it all,” he pointed out. “Soon enough, the demands will come, and you won’t get a moment of peace. Have your cravings started yet?”

Sabine grimaced at the question.

“Boiled eggs dipped in caramel.”

Harry looked at her as though she’d grown a second head, and Sirius nodded his understanding.

“Emmeline has been eating tuna with custard. Your mother was eating mashed potatoes with strawberries,” he added to the disgusted Harry.

“Oh, he’s so innocent,” Sabine snorted, “and he doesn’t even know how many times I need to pee in a day because of the baby pushing on my bladder.”

“I know that one,” Harry muttered. “You wake me up every you get up to go.”

“Well, that’s only a small sacrifice for you,” she returned with a shrug.

“I know,” Harry replied with a smile, “and then there will be the sleepless nights, and everything else.”

“Haven’t you got an elf?” Sirius asked.

“Two,” Harry confirmed, “but I’m not going to be relying on them for everything. I want to do my part.”

“We’ll see about that when you’re being woken up to change a dirty nappy at two in the morning,” Sirius chuckled. “That’s not a fun thing to wake up to, I can tell you that much.”

Sabine nodded her agreement and rubbed Harry’s shoulder comfortingly.

“We will learn together,” she assured him.

Sirius could only shake his head.

When he’d been there for Harry, the boy had already been eighteen months old, so the first of the journey would be new for him too, but he already knew it wouldn’t be easy.

It was the sound of the door opening that pulled him from his thoughts, and he was greeted by the sight of a pale but smiling Lily, who beckoned them forward.

“Is it…?”

She shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips.

Emmeline was clearly exhausted from the ordeal, her hair in disarray, much of it stuck to her perspiring forehead, but she smiled brightly as they entered.

In her arms, she was clutching a swathe of blankets, and Tullius was washing his hands as he offered Sirius a nod.

“A boy,” Emmeline whispered. “It’s a boy.”

(Break)

“You seem concerned, Severus.”

“I taught them, my lord. They may have been little more than troublemakers at Hogwarts, but do not let that fool you into believing that they are not untalented. There is a reason their shop has remained open throughout the conflict, and few have attempted to bother them.”

“Is that so?” the Dark Lord asked amusedly, disguising himself before approaching the colourful, gawdy shop in the centre of Diagon Alley.

Entering, he frowned at the various sounds, smells, and interesting display scattered throughout, and after only a moment, he was approached by two redheads whom he suspected their own mother could scarcely tell apart.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” one of them greeted him with a mischievous grin. “How can we be of service today?”

“My nephew mentioned your shop to me and was quite insistent this is where I come to purchase his birthday present,” the Dark Lord lied, surveying his surroundings.

With the much of the younger population at school, the shop was quite empty.

“Well, your nephew must be a boy of taste,” the other twin declared. “We have the very latest in pranks, jokes, and those naughty little items your parents would not approve of. Come this way, I am certain there is something that will tickle his funny bones.”

He fought the urge to frown as he followed the redheads, and he scanned some of the items as he passed them by.

In their own way, the Weasley twins were indeed rather creative, and had certainly accumulated quite the magic knowledge between them, even if much of it was next to useless.

So distracted by the oddities he looked upon, he did not recognise a wave of magic washing over him until it was too late, and a shrill alarm began blaring throughout the entirety of the store.

“IT’S HIM!” one of the redheads yelled, waving his wand in an intricate pattern.

The Dark Lord was immediately set upon by a myriad of things from the displays of the shop, and though he managed to fend them off easily enough, it allowed the twins an opportunity to put some space between themselves and him.

What they had not accounted for, however, as that the Dark Lord had not come alone.

Even so, they fought on, banishing their merchandise towards him, and it wasn’t until Severus unleashed a shout of surprise that they learned the folly of their defences.

Nonetheless, it would all be in vein, and as Severus attempted to fight off a stuffed toy which had attached itself to his face, the Dark Lord struck, slamming one of the twins into the wall, rending him unconscious.

“GEORGE!”

The second Weasley did not take kindly to what had happened to his brother, and he fought furiously, neglecting the defences they’d adopted initially in favour of hurling curses and jinxes towards the Dark Lord.

For one so young, he was a competent duellist, but so far below the level of Lord Voldemort, who quickly put an end to the stream of spells with one of his own.

The display behind the second twin lurched forwards, crushing the redhead beneath, and it was merely a wave of his wand later the redhead was disarmed, stunned, and bound.

The Dark Lord rolled his eyes as Severus continued to struggle with the octopus, but was surprised with how firmly it resisted his efforts to remove it.

When he did manage to pry it free, Severus was gasping for air, and he now sported some angry, swollen rings all over his face.

“I always hated the Weasley!” he seethed, raising his wand, only to be halted by the Dark Lord.

“No, Severus,” he said firmly. “This will take a little more subtlety. It will do us no good if any were to know we were here. Now, get whatever information you can from them, but do so carefully. Our approach must be clandestine, for now.”

Severus was displeased by the instruction but nodded before delving into the mind of the first twin whilst the Dark Lord set about the task of righting the shop.

Usually, h would simply take what he came for, dispatch those no longer of any use to him, and be on his way.

This time, however, he knew needed to be much more cautious.

The entire war could well hinge on his next steps, after all.