Harry Potter and the Child of Tourach

a/n: First of all thanks for the feedback, I really appreciate it. Still I have to answer a few questions before going on with the story. You may realize that my description of Harry’s mental powers differs to the one I gave in FoW. This is due to the fact that I plan on completely rewriting the prequel, because parts of it simply suck. The plot itself will remain unchanged though.

@BZLF: Normally Harry would be able to finish his attackers easily, but after entombing the leviathans again, he simply was too exhausted. Also he had no reason to expect an attack.

That’s it for now; let’s get on with the story. Oh and life sometimes simply sucks…


Regaining consciousness on a hard stone floor was not funny at all, especially if you had just been arrested, without knowing the charges, after nearly getting burned to a crisp by some crazed ancient being. Harry Potter found himself in just this kind of situation. He woke up on the cold, hard floor of his cell and groggily got up. He was standing in a rectangular room, each side roughly measuring twelve feet. A small, uncomfortable looking bed and a waste bucket were the only furniture and Harry briefly wondered why he had woken up on the floor instead of on the bed. Pushing this useless thought aside, he further examined the room and was surprised to find out that one of the walls was slightly translucent. Furrowing his brows, he walked over to it and touched it. It felt as cool and smooth as it should, but Harry could feel the energy pulsing in it. “A magical barrier, masked by an illusion to make it appear like a regular wall.” he said to himself, impressed at the display of magical power. Scrimgeour was not taking any risks, it was nearly impossible to breach such a field without a wand.

The first thing Harry had noticed after waking up was that the familiar weight of his wand holster on his right arm was gone. He was not surprised. He did not now for sure that he had been taking into the ministry’s custody, but he strongly suspected it. After all no one else would arrest him formally. However he had been surprised to find the wounds on his back tended and to find himself wearing a plain black robe, instead of his usual high-auror gear. Everything was completely quiet, but he was sure that silencing charms had been placed around the cell, he would have placed them. Still, he knew that it would not be long until his captor would show himself. Maybe he would be out of here in an hour, but he highly doubted that. The question was who had kidnapped him and why?

The only person he could think of, who would profit from him being out of the picture would be the minister or least Scrimgeour thought so. However he did not know why it happened now. What was the minister playing at? He could have used his influence to get Harry arrested much early, directly after the first encounter with the leviathans. It would have been easy to place him in protective custody, until his relation to the three had been researched. It was not making any sense.

Sighing, Harry accepted the face that he had no other option than to wait. He could feel that a Displacement Aura had been cast on the cell, so he would be unable to apparate, portkey or even to blink out. To make matters even worse, he did not have his wand and while he was a good fighter without it, he did not have the energy to free himself. With it, he might have been able to escape, but in this condition every attempt was a waste of energy. At least he still had his wedding ring, which had a emergency portkey imbedded, but it was unfortunately rendered useless by the aura. Deciding to keep a few tricks up the sleeve, he sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. Ginny was going to be so mad!


* * * * *


Interlude: two hours earlier

“Gone, what do you mean gone??” screamed Ginny, advancing on her older brother with her wand clutched in her hand, who seemed to cower under her steely gaze.
“I mean gone, as in vanished without a bloody trace.” replied Ron Weasley, quietly, knowing that it was prudent not to further enrage his livid sister. Honestly how did Harry endure being married to her?
“And tell me again how he managed to vanish, even though it was your job to watch him all the time?” the fiery haired woman demanded angrily.
“Alright, I watched him all the time like we had agreed to do.” echoed Ron, relieved at not getting hexed yet. “I used my binoculars and the invisibility cloak, so Harry would not see me and make a scene. Anyway everything went fine; the leviathans seemed to buy my little story, finally watching X-Files has been paying off. So Harry hits this skeletal guy with the spell and everything worked just as we thought it would. He starts to dodge the other titan’s attacks and manages to trap all of them, even tough he received a nasty burn.”

“Don’t worry, he will survive.” he added quickly, seeing the worried look in his sister’s eyes. “However just after he had finished the leviathans of, this bunch of aurors appeared behind, stunned him and took him away. I was too far away to do anything. After all I had to keep a distance to prevent Harry from sensing me.”
“So someone in the ministry is holding my husband in custody.” replied Ginny grimly. “I will teach them to mess with an ex-Weasley. I will get my husband back and if it is the last thing I do! I am going to apparate their right now!”

“Ginny be reasonable.” interrupted Hermione. “We do not know that Harry is indeed a prisoner. Maybe everything has been a mistake and his is just now finishing some important paperwork with Wright. After all, the ministry lies in tatters, where are you going to complain? They said on the wireless, that a temporary ministry substitute will open in Hogsmeade tomorrow. Please wait until then, maybe Harry will be home before the sun rises. Please think about it for a moment!”
The redhead remained silent for a while and Hermione could feel the inner struggle her friend was fighting. Finally Ginny pocketed her wand and spoke up again.
“Alright, but I will leave as soon as the sun rises.” she said, stomping of to the bathroom to change for the night.

“I pity the poor bloke, who is going to put up with her tomorrow.” muttered Ron under his breath.


* * * * *


Harry jerked out of the trance had been in at the quiet, slightly buzzing sound of the energy field becoming completely translucent. He had slept for a few hours, before starting his meditation in the vain attempt to gather enough energy to free himself. Not only he was not able to blast the bloody field, no he was also miles away from his usual form, still being drained from his final encounter with the leviathans. He doubted that he would be able to fire more than a few spells wandlessly, before being completely exhausted. Not really great conditions to survive a fight. Well, it could be worse. He still could handle a few opponents by attacking their minds directly, if he could buy the time he needed. It was not very well known that he could do wandless magic and his mental attack techniques were even less known, so the chances were high that he would at least surprise his foes. Making a mental note to stay careful, he focused his gaze on the now transparent wall and was not surprise to find himself face to face with the minister of magic himself.

“Ah Mr. Potter.” said the minister gleefully. “I hope that you found your night enjoyable.”
“Well the mattress is a bit hard, I am afraid.” replied Harry smoothly. “And the catering is very poor.”
“I see that at least your cockiness has not suffered.” echoed Scrimgeour, his cheerfulness not affected in the least. “You might have wondered why I am keeping you here.”
“Oh, is this the moment where the evil villain tells the noble hero his insidious plan?” asked Harry teasingly, hoping to provoke Scimgeour so much that he told him more than he originally wanted.
“You should watch your tongue Potter.” snarled the minister. “Or I am going to have a little chat with your enchanting wife.”

“How do you know about Ginny?” asked Harry, icy dread running through his veins. If Scrimgeour was going to hurt her, he would rip him limb for limb.
“Young Percy Weasley let it slip some time ago.” the minister replied smoothly. “Anyway I am a busy man, so let’s get this over with quickly. I arrested you, because of the failed attack yesterday. I knew that you were going to see the leviathans again, so I ordered a few aurors to watch the canyon where you met them for the first time. Fortunately my hunch was correct and you showed up. After you had dealt with the titans it was easy to capture you and to bring you here. We had to stitch you back together though, I still need you alive.”

“So far so good, but this still does not explain why you took me in the first place.” echoed Harry, growing tired of the game.
“I am coming to this.” said Scrimgeour, sounding really pleased with himself. Even under normal circumstances the minister had an abundance of self esteem, but right now he was nearing the lethal dose. “If anyone finds out that I ordered the attack, then I am gone. I will be lucky to escape prison. I do not have any intention of letting this happen. I am the best minister of magic this country has had for more than fifty years and I am not going to give up on my power. Fortunately you are so conveniently around. You will be my key to come out of the mess unscathed.”

“As soon as the reconstruction of the ministry is complete, you will plead before a court. The charges include, but are not limited to: sabotage, theft, high-treason and murder. I can not control the court, so you will have to admit all these crimes. You are going to testify that you forged my orders to attack, to weaken the ministry. Then you banished the leviathans to be the great saviour once again and to use this position to take control of the crippled ministry without any difficulties. All the time you held me locked up in my own office, but I managed to escape while you fought the leviathans and organized a group of aurors to arrest you. I highly doubt that your sentence will be shorter than lifelong”.

Harry looked at the older man incredulously. When had Scrimgeour lost his marbles? His paranoia combined with his fierce desire to protect his own power was a dangerous mixture indeed. Harry had felt the lure of power often enough to partly understand the minister’s situation. However had also seen enough of its victims to know that it was impossible to help the battle hardened ex-auror. He was completely obsessed with his plan and it would take ages to break through the barrier built around his mind. Sighing, Harry spoke up again.
“Why on earth should I help you?”

“Because if you don’t some of my men are going to kill your wife.” replied Scrimgeour, placing his hands on the barrier and smiling predatory. “I did not order them to do it quickly, so they may take their sweet time with her. I have heard that she is quite good looking.”
White hot anger cures through Harry’s veins, but he fought it down, unwilling to reveal how much these words affected him.
“This is not over Scrimgeour, we will meet again soon and then the circumstances won’t be in your favour any longer.” growled Harry, even though he knew that his threat was empty. “Do I get my owl? As you know I have the right to notify someone that I was arrested.”
“Your rights will be read to you at your funeral, Mr. Potter.” was the only thing the minister replied, before walking away slowly.


* * * * *


The sun had barely crept over the horizon, as Ginny Potter apparated into Hogsmeade, wearing a black jumper, tight blue jeans and a leather jacket Harry had once bought her on an impulse. It was a bright and crisp day, the cool October air smelt fresh and clean. Under normal circumstances she might have been happy about the nice weather, but today if had quite the contrary effect on her. Her already mounting anger was rising with every second. She did not even know with whom she was angry in the first place. She was furious with Harry for letting himself getting captured, she was livid at his captors and she was mad at the ministry, which may or may not have been taking her husband, for not doing anything about it. She had lain awake all night, thinking of her lost husband and pondering her next steps. By the time morning had arrived she was ready to kill the next unfortunate person pissing her off. And she did not take her long to find this poor being.

What looked like a fairly normal tent, with the scarlet label “substitute ministry of magic” had been erected on the marketplace of the small village. Not that the superscript was necessary though. The incredible amount of people walking in and out the tent, often in highly official looking robes, would be enough to reveal the tent’s person to almost every witch and wizard in the country. “Okay, let’s get on with the show, at least I look like the tough chick I am.” she thought, before entering the tent with fast, angry steps, her high heels clicking on the cobblestones.

The interior of the marquee had been magically extended and no was at least as big as a three story house. It was furnished very exclusively, mahogany desks, marble floors and silken tapestry made it appear like the manor of a very rich and old family. Apparently the ministry valued style over functionality, which further fuelled Ginny’s anger. The inside was a gigantic hall littered with an abundance of desks, where ministry employees were serving their customers. Or at least they tried to because there were at least thrice as many clients than clerks. Queues had already formed and were constantly getting longer. Sighing, Ginny queued up herself and settled in for a long wait, her temper flaming. She had to use every ounce of her willpower not to draw her wand and to bat-bogey-hex anyone into oblivion until they told her where on earth her husband was. Making a mental note to stay polite but firm, she impatiently waited until it was her turn.


* * * * *


“Ginny what are you doing here?” Ginny had just reached the end of the line and was more than a bit surprised to come face to face with her brother Percy.
“Percy?” she asked, perplex. “Why are you working as a simple clerk?”
“The ministry needs me in this mundane position I am afraid.” he replied arrogantly. “Well, maybe it will be beneficial for my career. Anyway what may I do for you?”
“My husband vanished last night.” said Ginny, after taking a deep breath.
“Vanished?” replied Percy, raising his eyebrows. “Did you have a fight?”
“No, it’s not like that.” answered Ginny impatiently, not eager to discuss the fact that Harry had faced the three leviathans in a crowded hall. “He was doing a mission and I have spoken to an eyewitness, who claims that Harry has been captured by the ministry. Do you happen to know anything about it?”

“Captured by the ministry, this is ridiculous.” said Percy in an extremely confident voice. “Why should we arrest one of our top aurors? We would need proof that Harry is a danger to the ministry to do this and as far as I know there is no reason to suspect this. And even if we had him in custody, it would be top secret and we certainly would not tell you.”
This really wasn’t what Ginny wanted to hear and her already boiling temper was close to finally explode.
“Where do you think he is then or am I so unimportant that you won’t tell me?” she asked waspishly.
“I think he has simply had a drink to much and is probably right now lying in bed with another woman.” replied Percy calmly, completely ignoring his sister’s anger. A stupid mistake. His implication had been the last straw for Ginny. She swung a right hook at his face and knocked him down to the ground.

“Now you listen to me you prat!” she shouted at him, drawing her wand. “Harry would never do this to me and you know it! I know that this is serious and I am going to find him and you should not stand in my way. I may be too unimportant to be informed, but I have got a wicked right hook.”

With these words, she swished her long red mane over her shoulder and calmly walked out of the ministry, her high heels ringing in the now silent room.


* * * * *


Even though she had found an outlet for her anger and her frustration in her prat of a brother, Ginny still was fuming after leaving the makeshift ministry. She was so caught up with mentally murdering everyone in the goddamned ministry that she did not pay attention to where she was walking. Consequently she crashed into another person after only a few steps and found herself lying on the ground an instant later, looking up in a sharp-cut, ascetic face with light blue eyes and short cropped grey hair. John Wright’s face.

“I am terribly sorry, lady, here let me help… Ginny! What on earth are you doing here?” he said, surprise evident on his face. They had met during a ministry Christmas party a year ago and had gotten along very well. Ginny suspected that the older man nursed a soft spot for her, probably because she reminded him of one of his numerous ex-wives.
“Hey John, it is nice to meet you too.” she replied, grasping his hand, which he had extended before recognizing her and pulled herself back to her feet. “And to answer your question: it is a rather long story and I do not want to discuss it in public.”
“A very wise decision. These are turbulent times and one does not know who to trust.” he replied pensively. “I think I know the perfect place to discuss some, ah, sensitive issues. I will have to take you with me, using side along apparation. Are you ready?”

Ginny barely had time to nod, before Wright had already taken hold of her arm and apparated away with her.


* * * * *


Ginny found herself standing in a big, but incredibly messy flat. Used clothes, books, files and empty bottles littered the floor, nearly covering it completely. If Wright was uncomfortable with her seeing his flat’s state, he did not show it, because he simply lead her through an, at least for her, invisible path through the chaos to what appeared to be the kitchen. If you could call it kitchen, because the room only held a big table, three chairs, a sink and an enormous fridge. Wright motioned her to sit down, walked over to the fridge and opened it, revealing an enormous collection of all kind of alcoholic beverage and lots of mineral water bottles. He extracted one water flagon and placed it on the table, before summoning two glasses and sitting down.

“Alright, now tell me your story and do not worry, I check this place thoroughly every night before going to sleep. It is clean.” he said after having poured two glasses.
“Well it all sort of begins with the leviathans…” started Ginny and recounted the events of the last two days. She did not really like sharing this much of sensible information but she was desperate at the moment and she knew that she could trust the head of Magical Law Enforcement. After all Harry trusted him and her husband was one of the most suspicious persons alive.

“You know this actually makes a lot of sense.” said Wright, pensively stroking the few stubbles on his chin after she had finished her story. “I am nearly one hounded percent sure that the ministry is currently keeping Harry in custody.”
”But why would they do this?” asked Ginny. “It does not make any sense! After all Harry has saved their ass once again!”
“That’s true and that’s why the situation is so perfect.” answered the auror. “Think about it. Yesterday more than five thousand people lost their lives, due to the botched up attack the minister of magic launched. Many very good aurors died yesterday and some very influential people lost friends or relatives in the attacks. They will want to see someone punished for this catastrophe. And then one day later; Harry shows up and manages to save the day as usual, without hurting anyone innocent in the process. If the public learns about this, the ministry will look like a group of damsels in distress and Scrimgeour will be finished. Are you with me so far?”

“Yeah.” replied Ginny, agreeing that all of this made sense. “But I still don’t see how keeping Harry as a prisoner is going to help.”
“I am coming to that.” he replied. “So far only a handful of people know that the leviathans are gone, therefore it will be easy to manipulate the truth a bit. The ministry puts Harry out of the picture and claims to have been successful itself and that he is the villain, who was the one to organize and to sabotage the failed attack, because he actually worked for the leviathans. Harry will be thrown to jail, because there are as good as no reliable witnesses confirming his side of the story and Scrimgeour will be a hero, probably going to stay minister for the next twenty years. And unfortunately we can not do anything without having actual prove that Harry is indeed in ministry custody and we are not going to get that anytime soon. If we knew where he was being held we could try to free him, but we do not even have we slightest idea where this could be.”

“And summed up this means…” started Ginny, her voice cracking.
“That the next time we are going to see Harry he probably will already have been sentenced to a lifetime in prison, yeah.” replied Wright, his face grim.


* * * * *


It had been a very uneventful week as a captive for Harry. No one had talked to him except for Scrimgeour on the first day of his involuntary residence. Every six hours the force field keeping him imprisoned would disappear and a group of at least four aurors would bring him something to eat and to drink, with wands at the ready. He did not know what the minister had told his former colleagues, but he could see fear and anger in their eyes. They always kept their eyes on him during their short visits and he could sense that they were ready to hex him into oblivion every moment.

Even though their fear was irrational, after all Harry did not have his wand and even he would not be able to down all four of them without magic, but Harry found the situation quite pleasing. At least he would not have to endure any taunting from his frightened guards. However he was worried about their reaction. If they were that afraid of him, while harbouring such anger at the same time, then Scrimgeour’s story had to be very convincing. And this meant that the men tailing Ginny would be in the same state as the guards there. Harry doubted very much that his wife’s death would be quick if he escaped and was not able to reach her in time.

Pushing these disturbing thoughts away, Harry once again started his meditation. It helped him to clear his mind and to plan his next course of action after he had gotten out of here. If he was getting out of here. He had long ago abandoned all hope that he would be able to free himself, he simply was too weak without his wand to do and the fact that Scrimgeour’s goons were not taking any chances did not help. So all he could do was to wait for help to arrive from the outside, but he doubted that anyone would be able to find him here. The minister may be paranoid, but he was no fool. Anyway, as soon as he was out of here, he would save Ginny. And then he would show Scrimgeour how dangerous Harry Potter could become! Just as he started to fantasize about his revenge and gurgling noise occurred outside his cell – When had the silencing charms been dispelled? –, followed by the dull sound of something heavy hitting the force field.

Harry was on his feet in an instant, his heart beating wildly. What on earth was going on? Was he getting freed? Had some of his guards decided to take the matter into their own hands and were going to finish him off? Or were the leviathans back and were trying to get revenge on their would-be captor? Gathering as much energy as he could, Harry focused his attention completely on the force field. Whatever was causing the sounds would need to get through it, to get to him and he would be ready to meet it. If it was hostile, oh well, at least he would die fighting. But all his experience and all his instincts could not prepare Harry for what was waiting outside for him. Suddenly something crashed against the field and it fluttered away to non-existence, leaving Harry staring into…

…darkness. Pitch black, all consuming darkness, which slowly moved into the cell. Harry retreated and cast a wandless shield charm on himself, being completely unfamiliar with this phenomenon. His shield was weak, but at least it would buy him some time. Just as he was preparing to cast a cutting charm, the darkness compressed itself and formed a concrete form. Suddenly Harry found himself staring into the face of a tall and lean man, completely made out of shadows. Sandro the shade assassin!

“Greetings Harry.” replied the shade brightly. “I daresay it is nice to see you again. The last few months were very entertaining, thanks for putting on a bit of a show!”
“Sandro?” replied Harry weakly, convinced that the whole world had gone mad. The best and probably the craziest assassin of all times had come to rescue him from his imprisonment at he ministry? It sounded like a dream. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Getting your ass out, what else?” asked the assassin, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, I got that, but why?” echoed Harry, as far as he knew, Sandro needed at least two good reasons to do anything for another person.

“Well first of all, I watched you trapping the three big guys and it was a damn good show! Then I saw you getting bagged by this bunch of ministry dudes, so I decided to be a nice guy and get you out. It took me a while to find out where one was keeping you, but I still had a few favours to pull in, so no harm done. Oh and I always wanted to get someone out of prison, it is kind of exciting and funny, don’t you think so?”
Harry did not agree to Sandro’s definition of fun at all, but he decided not to let the situation pass. “Err, alright, let’s go! I need to be home as soon as possible. Do you have any idea, if you were spotted while entering?”
“I don’t think so.” replied the assassin confidently. “But someone will find the bodies of your guards soon.”
“Damn!” cursed Harry. Ginny would be as good as dead as soon as his jailbreak was discovered. He needed to get out of the range of the Displacement Aura, so he could use his ring to get back home. Unfortunately, it extended on the whole area and not just his cell.

He found himself standing in a bare, white corridor with countless of cells embedded in each wall. On his left, it ended in a solid looking door, which was currently slightly ajar and permitted him to see the crumbled bodies of his guards lying in the room beneath it. It would take much too long to find a common way out. However Harry found the solution on his right. Here the corridor ended in a large balcony and he could feel that the aura stopped directly after it. All he had to do was to jump over the edge and active the ring. Gulping he walked to the balcony and found himself standing at least a hundred feet over the raging sea. Thanking Sandro one more time for getting him out, the jumped over the edge into the evening sky.


* * * * *


After falling through the familiar whirl of colours travelling with a portkey caused, Harry found himself standing in his dark living room, his heart beating a mile a minute. It looked exactly the same as before he left, but this did not mean that every thing was indeed unchanged. He was worried. He did not know if his breakout had been discover yet and the thought that Ginny could be dead already was swirling around in his head. Please let her be alright! He was repeating this mantra over and over in his head, as though he could actually influence the fate of the world with his wishes. So far he had no reason to suspect that she was dead, but a small part of him was wondering if Scrimgeour had not already finished her just to have her out of the way. It was a horrifying thought, but Harry had learned long ago to think the unthinkable and to expect the unexpected. He had to find her.

Harry stealthily walked into the bedroom, trying to stay in the shadows, just in case the minister’s goons were watching the flat. This room was dark as well, but he could see light shining through the door of the bathroom. Steeling himself for the worst, Harry burst through the door, ready to down everyone inside with a few practised strikes. Fortunately he did not have to. Instead of a dozen foes, he found himself face to face with his very surprised wife, who was wearing nothing but a tight blue jeans and a black lace bra. Before Ginny had any time to react, Harry had already pulled her into a crushing hug.

“You are alright, you are alright…” he whispered into her hair, feeling the weight in his stomach, which had been a loyal companion during the last week slip away. Suddenly he did not want to fight anymore. He simply wanted time to stop and to remain forever in this comforting embrace. He was tired. He had fought for nearly all of his life and it felt so completely unfair that he still had to do it. Still the alternative was to spend the rest of his life on the run or in prison and that was not an option. He had to fight on, if not for himself, than for Ginny. She deserved to be happy and having a husband in prison normally was not a woman’s favourite dream.

“Harry.” she replied so softly that he thought he had imagined it. “What is going on? Where have you been?”
“Sorry love, we don’t have time for this.” he replied, pulling away reluctantly. “We are going to get bad company any moment. Pack a few clothes; we are going to move into Grimmauld Place for a while.”
With these words he stormed out of the room, straight into his library, Ginny hot on his heels.
“Harry James Potter, you will tell me this instant what on earth is going on or I swear I will…” she said angrily, but Harry had already tuned her out. Instead he focused his attention on one of the large, sturdy bookshelves in the room. Placing a hand on the light birch wood, he mumbled a few words under his breath.
“Wolves in Wolves’ clothing.”

Ginny’s angry tirade was cut off, by the sudden change of the shelves’ content. Instead of innocent books, it was now filled with all kind of weapons. Grenades, pistols, assault rifles, swords and knives plus lots of ammunition, were lying next to a few very old books, a large moneybag and a small wooden chest. Quickly, Harry picked up one of the gun’s and loaded it, before removing the safety trigger.

“Harry what is this?” asked Ginny, with a determined edge in her voice. Harry knew that ignoring her would be very unwise in this situation, because the following argument would take a lot longer than simply explaining everything.
“This is my emergency bookcase. Filled with everything you are going to need in a desperate situation. This wooden chest held some spare wands, highly useful, if you have lost your original one. The moneybag is filled with one hundred thousand galleons and the weapons are here to provide whatever extra firepower one might need. The books are some very dark and dangerous and I just did not want them to give them to the ministry, so I decided to keep them save here. Oh and what I am holding is a MAC-10M, a magical version of a muggle firearm and…”

His explanation was rudely interrupted by a large crash coming from the front door. Before Harry or Ginny could react, an auror was already in the doorframe, his wand at the ready. And he was aiming at Ginny!
“NO!” screamed Harry and threw her down to the floor, just as the auror shouted “Incinere” and a white hot flame erupted from his wand, hitting the air just where Ginny’s head had been a second ago. Scalding rage flooded through Harry’s veins. Everything in him screamed to kill the bastard for wanting to hurt his wife and this time he did not fight back as usual. He embraced the rage! The chest containing the wands was too far away, but still had the sub-machine gun clutched in his hand. In a lighting fast movement, he lifted the weapon and aimed at the auror, just as two other intruders appeared in the doorframe behind him. Smiling wickedly, Harry squeezed and held the trigger.

The noise was deafening. The gun roared to life and spit fire, hitting the three unsuspecting aurors before they could react. The magically enhanced bullets penetrated the auror robes with enough force to still damage the soft flesh beneath it and the three intruders quickly fell in the deadly rain. Had Harry been using a normal weapon they probably would not have a scratch and he would only be hitting the ceiling thanks to the gun’s enormous recoil. After only three seconds, everything was over. Harry stepped over the bleeding forms of the three aurors, his bloodlust satisfied at the moment and quickly summoned their wands to him. Then he told Ginny to stitch them back together if they were still alive, they did not need any more problems and three dead aurors would certainly cause them.

He started to search the rest of the flat, but did not encounter anyone else. The front door was in shambles, most of the wards guarding the apartment destroyed. At least the silencing charms appeared to be still in place or the flat would be swarming the cops already. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and quickly walked over to the bedroom. He summoned a few clothes, shrunk them and placed them in a conjured bag, before scribbling a note to Ron and Hermione and sending it with Hedwig. Then he returned to the library.

“Will they live?” he asked Ginny, who had just finished treating the three aurors, not particularly caring for them, but for himself.
“Yeah, their robes absorbed a lot of the damage” she replied, sounding confused and more than a bit shocked. “Harry what now? Why are we getting attacked from your colleges?”
“I will explain everything as soon as we are save.” he echoed, placing the bag on the floor and putting the gun back on the shelve. Then he pocketed the money bag and opened the wooden chest, extracting one of the spare wards he had bribed Olivander to craft for him nearly three years ago. The wand maker had not been pleased, but had accepted, after all he had finally been able to leave his hideout after Harry had finished Voldemort. Placing the wooden box in his pocket after shrinking it, he restored the charm hiding the secret weapon chamber. Then he grabbed one of the books and turned it into a portkey, extending it to Ginny as well. She sent him a you-better-have-a-very-good-explanation-for-this look, before touching it as well. A few seconds later, they hit the floor of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.


* * * * *

Once again Harry found himself standing in the entrance hall of the former Order of the Phoenix headquarter. Despite the cleaning he helped to accomplish so many years ago, the house still looked dark and foreboding. The walls, which had sucked up so many dark thoughts and deeds, seemed to radiate coldness and appeared to close him in, rather than protecting him for the danger which lurked outside. Harry shivered. Being here caused so many bad memories to resurface that he nearly turned around and left the mansion for good. However he managed to fight down his panic and firmly told himself that it was only temporary and that it would get better as soon as the others were here as well.

“Well, Harry, you still owe me an explanation.” said Ginny quietly, so quietly that Harry wondered if she was affected that badly by the place as well.
“Indeed, I do.” he replied and conjured two comfortable armchairs with a flick of his wand. He sat down and motioned her to join him. After she had settled down as well, he started to recount the past week’s event in a so calm and composed voice that he sounded as though he was talking about a mildly interesting novel.

“I can’t believe this!” shouted Ginny once he was finished, after having grown constantly redder during his tale. “You saved all their bloody asses when you finished off Voldemort and this is how they thank you. If I get my hands on this royal git of a minister, I swear I will…”
But Harry never knew what she was going to do. In this instant the front door of the mansion opened and Ron and Hermione entered.

“Hey mate.” said Ron after stepping into the entrance hall. “We came as fast as we could, your message sounded pretty urgent. Is there something we can help you with?”
“Yes there is something indeed.” replied Harry, his face grim. “I need your help to reform the Order of the Phoenix tonight; we are going to overthrow the ministry.”