Into The Long Dark

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never will be. All HP characters belong to JK and Warner Brothers, etc, etc, etc. Rael belongs to me.

SPOILER WARNING: The events in this fic take place immediately after Book 6.

Many thanks as always to EAS!

A/N: If you would like to see what Sirius' vintage Indian cycle looks like, copy and paste this URL into your web browser:

http://www.photos.indianmotorbikes.com/50-53chief/tel015.jpg

Sunday, 10 August 1997


~~~~~~FOURTEEN ~~~~~~~~"EVEL KNEVILLE"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


McGonagall systematically shuffled through the huge stack of parchments that littered her otherwise orderly desk. This close to the new school year, the Owls were arriving daily. She was fairly certain that Albus had never had to contend with this amount of paperwork. She had noted with intense displeasure how the volume had been steadily increasing in the last few weeks. She had adopted the habit of organizing the incoming parchments into three categories: Urgent, Needs Attention, and Weasley. Scanning the next file, she placed it on the Weasley pile. It was easily three times as large as the Urgent pile. Good Heavens, what is Rufus doing over there? Weasley is out of control! The next parchment went into the Needs Attention; the next into Weasley; the next, Urgent. Merlin! Another Weasley. Sighing, she finished her daily sort, and worked quickly through the Urgent files. Mostly Supply Requisitions, inquiries from parents about Security, and a few responses to the open position for Defense Against The Dark Arts Instructor.

Today she had four replies. All had declined the job. Frowning, she jotted down a few more names. Perhaps a personal visit would enhance the process. Time was growing short. She had to find a replacement, or The Ministry would appoint someone, most likely Umbridge. There was no way she would allow that woman to set foot in Hogwarts. There were more than a few security inquiries today. Most were easily answered. The fact that there were new security wards was a good selling point. Still, enrollment was down, and the number of First Year students was the lowest in over one hundred years. Overall, enrollment was down nearly thirty percent. Most of the lost students were switching to Beauxbatons. Maxime had reported a twenty percent increase in her enrollment. Even Durmstrang had picked up a number of former Hogwarts students. There was no doubt in her mind as to what, or who, was responsible for the entire situation. Allowing a small smile to form, she took some comfort in the fact that the Potter Problem was well on its way to being solved. Permanently.

Sighing, she finished the Needs Attention pile, and started on Weasley's. Gods, the man loves to hear himself talk.After a fashion, McGonagall had become quite adept at filtering through the former Head Boy's output. With a supreme feeling of satisfaction, she charmed the completed files to the large basket on the floor. A standard 'Out' box was no longer adequate. Crossing her office, she made herself a cup of tea, and then gazed out of the huge window. She had a commanding view of the grounds, and it was a most beautiful summer's day. She could clearly see Dumbledore's tomb, a bright, shining white in the sunshine. All of the former Headmasters and Mistresses were snoozing in their portraits. All except Phineas. He seemed to be always alert. Watching. The office was nearly the same as when Dumbledore had occupied it, with all the little whirring and puffing devices on their spindly little tables. McGonagall had added a fair amount of her Quidditch memorabilia, of course.

She had just taken her first sip of tea when the ward buzzed.

"Enter," she said with a note of annoyance. Turning, she watched as Filch blustered into the office, holding a small stack of parchments.

"Mornin' Headmistress. A few late Owls for you." He placed the files on her desk. McGonagall eyed them as if they were hinkypunks.


"Thank you, Argus." She sighed heavily, setting her teacup down on the desk, quickly scanning the new arrivals. After a moment, she turned her attention to the caretaker, who was still standing in front of her desk. It was clear that Filch was anxious to speak his mind.

"Yes, Argus? Is there something else?"

"Yes, Headmistress. I was curious if you had considered my request to make some changes, badly needed if you ask me, to the Detention Rules? It has been over a week, and I will need time to make ready, if you approve, that is." He shifted slightly, a tiny twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth.

McGonagall eyed him for a moment, allowing Filch to fidget even more. "Yes, I have looked over your proposal. While I admit that I certainly agree that discipline has been far too lenient these past years, I don't believe Flogging or The Rack are suitable methods of punishment. At least not for being late to lessons." When he started to speak, she went on.

"I do agree with you, Argus, that we must increase the duration and activities that the students engage in while in detention. I am working on a system where the penalties increase with repeat offenses. I will tell you that you might as well clean up the cells on the lower level. Repair the locks and replenish the wards. I think they may get some use this year."

Filch smiled. "Yes, Headmistress. Thank you, Headmistress!" He gave her a little bow, and stalked out of the office, the huge door slamming shut behind him.

She sat down, taking another sip of tea. With a wave of her wand she murmured "Muffliato" followed in quick succession by "Declinus Compleo" Another wave, and the door locked with a loud click.

"Yes, Peter, what is it? I hope that this is important!" The scruffy rat scurried out into the middle of the office floor, and transformed instantly. Pettigrew stood before her desk, his hands in constant motion.

"Ah, yes, Minerva, it is most important! Indeed, urgent!" He glanced nervously about as she continued to shuffle the last few parchments.

She looked up at him. "Well? Spit it out, Peter!" She returned her gaze to the files.

"Yes, apologies! Of course. Severus needs your assistance. Immediately."

McGonagall's eyes shot up to take him in for a moment, before returning to the parchments again. Her quill scratched over the paper.

"There is a problem with Narcissa. She is threatening to go to the Dark Lord. She could possibly reveal the location of Spinner's End. You know how dangerous that could be. Severus requires you to handle the situation. Immediately." Pettigrew finished, biting his lower lip. The Headmistress continued to shuffle her papers.

"Why me? Cannot Severus handle it?"

"Severus is otherwise occupied. He has been summoned by the Dark Lord. He feels this situation is most dire, and needs immediate attention. He indicated you would know what to do, Minerva."

McGonagall finished with the parchments, and replacing her quill in its well, stacked the papers neatly on the corner of her desk. Picking up her teacup, she swiveled in her chair, her back to Pettigrew.

"Very well. This evening then. I assume she will be at Malfoy Manor tonight?" She gazed out of the window, sipping her tea.

"Yes, yes, Narcissa always spends her Sunday evenings at home."

There was a long silence. She nodded imperceptibly. "Of course. You will leave now, Peter."

Pettigrew nodded, and transformed into his Animagus form. Scurrying towards the door, it unlocked and opened just enough to let him out. It closed again with a metallic click. McGonagall sipped her tea.

"Finite Incantatem."

She continued gazing out the window, taking in the marvelous view before her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Even now, in early August, there was a distinctive chill in the air. Remus pulled his cloak tighter about him as he made his way carefully through the thinning underbrush. Just ahead, through the trees, he could make out the dirt road that led down into the village of Eisen. Plenty of daylight left, he thought. Wish the sun would warm things up. His new set of robes were quite warm, but for some reason he couldn't seem to shake the chill. Remus had spent the better part of the last week meeting with werewolf clans that roamed the lower slopes of the northern Carpathian Mountains.

This was the first time he had been to this part of the world, and he was amazed at how different the landscape was. Remus had spent more than his share of time in the wild, either in werewolf form under the moon, or, as was the case of late, seeking out his cursed brethren. He was no stranger to forests, then, but the wildlands here in eastern Europe were surprisingly unsettling.

The forests seemed older, darker, somehow malevolent, even on the brightest days, which were few. On those days with a leaden gray sky, the forests were darker still, and it seemed to Remus that the trees themselves actually sought to block out the light, to revel in the darkness. There was a stifling closeness, an oppressive sense of extreme age, decay, and loneliness, that over the centuries had turned evil. As a little shiver coursed through him, he finally stepped out of the brush onto the road. It wasn't much of a road, as some cow paths back home saw more use.

Once out from under the canopy of leaves, the sun was free to warm his shoulders again. The lingering chill he had been feeling faded away, as did the pervasive sense of dread and despair. Allowing his cloak to fall open, Remus set off at a brisk pace down the track. He briefly thought of Apparating to the Inn, but the sun felt good, warming his bones. The walk would do him some good. He had plenty of time before sunset.

Remus' mood seemed to brighten with every step, and the air was again refreshing. It was unfortunate that he wouldn't have better news to report to The Order. At least, the good news was there wasn't any bad news. He made a note to phrase it just that way. The look on McGonagall's face would be priceless. The Order had sent him to seek out the werewolves and at the very least, attempt to dissuade them from joining forces with Voldemort. It was hoped that their aid could then be enlisted against the Dark Lord.

Once Remus had arrived in Slovenia, he made contact with Yuri Janowicz, a Durmstrang graduate who was also a werewolf. Janowicz had been at Hogwarts when Remus was a seventh year during an experimental exchange program between the two schools. He had been immediately fascinated by Remus and his situation. Werewolves were much more common in Slovenia, and although they were not universally accepted there, the sheer number of them guaranteed that nearly every family had a lycan in it. Therefore, there was a far greater tolerance for werewolves and their situation.

Janowicz had remained in contact with Remus after returning to Durmstrang. He would send back any information that he thought would be useful to Remus' condition, from the latest Slovenian folk remedy to improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion. The exchange of information was helpful, if for nothing else that it helped to expand the conventional wisdom of the Lycanthropy Curse and those afflicted with it.

Janowicz had majored in Care of Magical Creatures. He had secured a position with the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania, the very one where Charlie Weasley now worked. Unfortunately, everything had changed when Janowicz was attacked by a lycan his first week home from Durmstrang. He had to forfeit his position at the Dragon Sanctuary, as it was impossible for a werewolf to work so closely with dragons. Janowicz had returned to his birthplace of Eisen, spending the intervening years working with those similarly afflicted. He had helped Remus organize the meetings with the various clans in the area, and acted as a translator if needed.

Bloody shame, he thought, shaking his head. So much potential, so much sacrifice. Remus had grown up with the curse. He could barely recall his life without it. He couldn't imagine the despair and hopelessness that could engulf an adult that was bitten, like Yuri. All his dreams and hopes had been dashed. Yuri had been lucky. He had been able to adapt, and make the best of his condition. Remus had met many who were not so fortunate.

He slowed his pace somewhat, as the dirt track dipped sharply down and to the right, sloping into a small hollow. A brook snaked out of the trees, brushed the road, and disappeared into the forest again. The road had widened a bit, but there were no other travelers in sight. Remus guessed that he had another couple of miles to go before hitting the outskirts of the village. Even in the bright sunshine, the forest was still foreboding. Dark. Watching. He shuddered, and continued down into the little valley.

The Order had another meeting in two days. He would have just enough time to finish up with Yuri and arrive home at Grimmauld Place. Home. The word had come so easily. Remus stopped abruptly as if he had impacted a wall. Now when did that happen? He turned the thought over in his mind, shaking his head from side to side. He tried it again. Home. Of course he had had a home with his parents, and Hogwarts was also home to him when he was there, but after that...It had been a long time. With a nod and a smile, he started down the path again.

It would be good to get back to Grimmauld. He had been concerned at the prospect of leaving Harry and Neville on their own. They were both now of age, he reminded himself, and Tonks had promised to keep an eye on them. It wasn't Neville Remus was most worried about. He was certain that Harry hadn't fully dealt with the death of Dumbledore, let alone that of Sirius. He had put up a brave front, but Remus saw right through it. Harry had become increasingly impatient, and was having trouble controlling his temper. Couple that with his raging hormones, and the fact that Harry was coming to terms with his sexuality, and you had a very volatile situation.

At least Remus had had Sirius and James to support him when he told them he was gay. Then Sirius' own confession shortly after that had ensured that Remus wouldn't go through it alone. They had had so little time together. Pushing thoughts of Sirius aside, he turned back to Neville. He had had a rough time as well, although not nearly as awful as Harry. He recalled when Neville had come out to him earlier that summer, confessing his attraction to Harry. Merlin, he wasn't ready to be a father figure, but like it or not, he was.

He had crossed the hollow and was making his way up the other side, when he stopped again. At first, Remus didn't know what it was. Then it hit him. Silence. No birds. No buzzing of insects. Nothing. Silence. Then the sensation rising straight up from his gut. He turned in a circle, automatically scanning the surrounding area. His heightened senses now full on, one of the few advantages of his curse. Urgent. Impossible to ignore. Taking control. Run! NOW!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Harry was certain that he would be seeing his parents soon. Very soon. Neville drove like a maniac. He piloted the cycle as if possessed, weaving in and out of traffic, laughing. Harry hugged him as if his life depended on it, at times closing his eyes, especially when approaching intersections. He has to be using magic, that's the only way we haven't been splattered already, Harry thought as they passed within inches of a double decker. I've created a monster!

Harry should have known he was in trouble when he had walked out into the garden and found Neville tinkering with the old Indian cycle. He'd had a little tool kit laid out, and was fussing with some sort of linkage. Harry knew little about Muggle engines.

"What are you up to Nev?"

His friend had looked up with a devilish grin. "Just making a few adjustments. Checking the oil, a little lubrication, that sort of thing. You need to keep up on the maintenance of these machines. They're surprisingly delicate, you know."

Harry had chuckled. "When did you become an expert on motorcycles?"

In response, Neville had held up a rather thick Muggle instruction manual. "Do you know how hard it was to get a complete manual for a 1952 Indian Chief? Thank Merlin for Fred and George. They helped me get some parts we needed as well." Harry was quite literally speechless. Even more so when Neville had hopped onto the vintage cycle and kicked it to life. The machine purred throatily, Neville revving the engine a few times.

"Hop on, luv! Let's hit the road!" Neville had apparently been practicing his cycle skills all along. "I wanted it to be a surprise!" he had yelled, as they had careened down the alleyway.

Surprise isn't quite the word for it Harry thought. They had just screeched to a halt in front of The Leaky Cauldron and he found to his dismay that he had maintained his grip around Neville long after they had stopped moving.

Neville looked back at him, smiling from ear to ear. "She gets out of her own way, doesn't she?" Harry had merely nodded, still a little breathless. Neville then shrunk the cycle, and placed it carefully into a small wooden box, which resembled a Muggle eyeglass case. The inside of the box was lined with black velvet, and the miniaturized motorbike fit perfectly into the contoured interior. Neville then snapped it shut, and slipped the box into his jacket pocket.

Once inside, they had a quick butterbeer at the bar. The barmaid prattled on about how handsome they both were in their black cycling leathers. Neville blushed at the compliment, and even more when Harry ran his hand across Neville's crotch.

Finished with their drinks, they left the Cauldron, and soon were walking up Diagon Alley, drawing more than a few stares on account of their Muggle clothes. Harry noted that the atmosphere in the shopping district was still somber, subdued. No one was walking alone, either. Everyone moved along in pairs or small groups. While there were still numerous wanted posters nearly everywhere, they were no longer filling the shop windows. The Ministry had erected notice boards and kiosks throughout Diagon Alley. Bellatrix Lestrange leered at them from her poster as they walked by a recently erected billboard.

Harry put his arm around Neville, who blushed again. Harry looked up at his friend, and felt a flush all through his body. Damn, why did I wait so long? A moment later he remembered Rael. Shit! What am I going to do about that? His other hand moved up to touch the bandage covering Rael's mark. That odd, fuzzy sensation he had been experiencing had faded considerably. He'd deal with all that later. Right now, Harry just wanted to enjoy the time with Neville.

Nearing Fred and George's shop they could see that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had expanded into the buildings on either side, a testament to how well the twins' business was doing. It was one of the few, as Harry noted there were still quite a number of vacant storefronts. It reminded him of Shipton Street.

The shop was crowded with customers. They received a few more stares as they walked up to the counter. The clerk, a rather handsome bloke, smiled from ear to ear as he thanked his previous customer, before turning his attention to Harry and Neville. It was hard to believe, but he smiled even more as he approached them.

"Well, hullo, fellows, I'm Martin. Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. How may I be of service?" Harry was certain that Martin meant more than just the product line in the store.

Neville moved closer to Harry. "Hi, Martin. Uh, is George available? He has a special order for me."

Martin wagged his eyebrows seductively. "I'll bet he does, pet. One moment, please." Martin pressed a small button embedded in the counter. He gave them both the once over, smiling wickedly.

"Well, you must be Neville. George has mentioned you. Extensively." Turning his gaze to Harry, Martin bit his lower lip, shaking his head.

"And who would you be, you scruffy little stud, you?"

Harry flushed in spite of himself, and Neville threw his arm around Harry's shoulders pulling him close. "This is Harry, and he's with me."

Martin was nonplussed. "Of course he is, pet. Hiya, Harry." Martin reached over the counter. A business card materialized in his hand. He slid it across the counter to Harry.

"My card, pet. Please don't hesitate to call upon me if I can be of service. Day. Or night." He gave Harry a sly wink.

Neville was beginning to crush Harry with his arm. "Nev, I can't breathe!" Neville released his grip, and Harry was able to draw breath again.

"Bloody hell, Martin! What have I told you about annoying the customers?" They turned to see George fairly fly down the spiral staircase. Fred was right behind him.

They wore matching robes made from a bright orange material that shimmered as they moved across the sales floor. George came up between Neville and Harry, putting an arm around each one. He gave them both a peck on the cheek.

Fred went around the counter, and glared at Martin, who got the message. "Well, nice to meet you, Neville. Harry. If I can be ...."

Fred cut him off. "I believe we have a shop full of customers that need your immediate attention, Martin." Martin winked at Harry and in a flurry of robes, moved towards the back of the shop.

Fred shook his head. "If he wasn't such a brilliant wizard."

"He's quite multi-talented," George chimed in, cracking a wicked smile.

"George is a firm believer in using the personal touch when training new employees."

"I've always believed in the hands-on approach, Fred."

"Well, I see you two have finally come to your senses." Fred smiled, looking first at Neville, and then Harry.

Neville blushed yet again. George shook him and gave him another kiss. "Well, Nev, was I right or was I right?"

Harry looked up at Neville with a quizzical expression.

Neville shrugged. "Well, Harry, George helped me figure some things out. You know. Things."

"Had it bad for you, he did, Harry," Fred said.

"Pretty bunged up over you, you know," George added.

"Always has been, right, George?"

"Worst case of unrequited love I've seen yet, Fred."

"Worse than Harry and Ron, wasn't it?" Fred looked at Harry, shaking his head.

"Well, that was pretty one sided, if you recall, Fred. Ickle Ronniekins has the emotional depth of a mudpuddle." Both twins nodded.

"Hey! I'm standing right here, ya know!" Harry piped up indignantly.

"Sorry!" said both twins in unison.

"Really, Harry, you're much better off with Nev here than that post of a brother of ours," George said with a conspiratory tone.

"Besides, now that Ronniekins is putting it to Granger, it's all moot," Fred blurted out.

Harry's eyes goggled noticeably.

"Ooops. Don't think he knew about that, Fred."

"Well, it's not like he wasn't going to find out eventually, George."

"Right there!" both twins said in harmony.

"Um, is there some reason why we're here, Nev?" Harry said miserably.

"Right! Fred, I think it's under the counter there. In the Special Order bin." George pointed over Harry's shoulder.

"Yep, here it is, Nev. Just in today from the States." Fred placed a tiny box wrapped in brown paper on the counter. It was the size of a pillbox.

"Quite imaginative, those Yank Wizards. They shrink everything for shipping. Saves a fortune!" George beamed.

"What is it, Nev?" Harry watched as Neville picked up the package.

"It's all in here? Instructions, everything?" Neville smiled down at Harry.

"All there, Nev," Fred said.

"To your exact specifications," George added.

Neville put the package in his jacket pocket. "I think it's all there." He put a handful of galleons on the counter.

"Sorry, your money's no good here. You know that, Neville," Fred admonished, pushing the pile back towards him.

"Well, donate it to your favorite charity, then. I don't want it." Neville pushed it back.

"The Wayward Wizard's Home thanks you, Mr. Longbottom," said George, giving Neville another hug.

Fred waved his hand, and the galleons disappeared. He then smiled nefariously at Neville. "You devil, you. That must be the mother of all love bites, Nev."

Harry's hand flew up to the gauze, his cheeks flushing pink. "Er, well, Neville didn't do this. A doxie bit me last night."

"Right, Harry. Good one. It's a doxie bite, George."


"Sure it is, Fred. Nev, you naughty boy. I had no idea!"

Neville looked both embarrassed and pleased with himself at the same time.

Harry simply gave up. "Oh, whatever."

Fred shook his head, smiling. "Harry, Harry. Well, I think it's time we took a walk to the back room, right, George?"

"Quite, Fred. Gentlemen?" George gestured to the private room at the back of the store. All four Wizards moved towards the back room, which housed the 'Adult Wizard' section. The room was empty at the moment, and Harry wondered at the selection of products designed to enhance sexual pleasure. Neville reached out to examine an item called 'The Weasley Wanker,' but George gently steered them both towards the back wall.

"Don't worry, Nev, we've included a selection of our best sellers in your package." He squeezed Neville's shoulder and winked at Harry.

Fred murmured "George Michael," and a portion of the back wall receded and slid aside. He ushered all of them through the opening, and once on the other side, it resealed itself.

Torches blazed to life, and Harry goggled at the huge room that was revealed. Stacks of boxes and crates filled the center of the room to the ceiling. Shelves lined one wall, completely filled. Workbenches lined the opposite wall. In the near corner, there was a large bed, a sofa, and some armchairs. A small table with chairs and a small kitchenette completed the set up.

George spread his arms. "Welcome to the creative heart of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes! This is where the magic happens!"

Neville had wandered over to look at one of the bench tops. Fred quickly retrieved him. "Sorry, Nev, nothing to see here. Over this way," steering him to the small table.

Harry was wide-eyed. "Wow, guys, this is amazing. Who knew?"

The twins threw their arms around him.

"All thanks to our most generous benefactor," said Fred.

"Couldn't have done it without you!" added George.

Neville cleared his throat. Both Weasleys looked up, and released Harry simultaneously.

"Territorial," whispered Fred.

"Impatient, too," answered George.

Fred then picked up two coins from a small pile on the table. He handed one to Harry and one to Neville. Harry eyed the knut carefully, waiting for it to explode. Neville was sniffing his.

Harry held his coin as far away from his body as possible. "OK, I give up. Do we have to pay a toll to get out of here?"

The twins grinned at each other. "George, be my guest."

"Thank you, Fred. Gentlemen, you are holding our latest invention. Now before I continue, I must have your solemn oath that you will not reveal to anyone what I'm about to tell you. This is, as they say, Top Secret!" He paused, and folded his arms. Harry and Neville exchanged glances, and then nodded.

"Excellent! This item is so exclusive, it is not available to the general population. You are holding the Weasley AOA5. Our entire production is devoted to one customer, and one customer only. The Ministry Of Magic! Until now, you had to be one of the inventors, or one of our financial supporters, or an Auror to have one of these little beauties!" Harry and Neville stared at the unremarkable coins.

"Ah, what does it do?" Neville's expression was wary.

George leaned on his twin. "The AOA5 is a revolutionary invention. The Automatic Occlusive Apparatus, mark 5, as you may have now guessed, is a personal protection field. It masks any and all magical energies. Simply, any hexes, charms, or curses thrown by the wearer are automatically occluded, completely untraceable. You could throw ten Unforgivables in a row, and there would be no trace of them, no record, no way to identify the caster."

Neville seemed perplexed, but Harry understood. "I get it. That's why The Ministry wanted you to invent it. It's perfect for Aurors. That way, their people would be masked. Any spells cast by a Ministry operative wouldn't show up. A bit less information to sort through."


"Bright boy, Harry. Just so. Except we didn't set out to design it for The Ministry. We were endeavoring to create a simple personal hex shield, right, Fred?"

"Right. With all the shoddy or fake merchandise out there, we realized the market needed something dependable. Versions one through four weren't entirely successful."

George ran his hand over his stomach, grimacing. "The scarring is nearly gone. Anyway, instead of a blocking shield, we ended up with this. Once we realized what we had, we brought it to our Dad, and he presented it to The Ministry. They were so impressed, we now have four more contracts currently in development."

"But that's not all," Fred added. "This coin can be transfigured into any metal form of similar weight and mass, and still retain its occlusive properties."

"That's correct. It could be a brooch. Or a bracelet. Or a necklace. A ring, an earring, whatever."

Fred raised his right hand. "Mine's a ring. So is George's"

Harry stared at George's hands. "I don't see a ring, George."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Show 'em, bro."

George unbuttoned his robes, and lifted his shirt up to his neck. "I've got a matched set," he beamed, indicating his pierced nipples.

"Show off." Fred crossed his arms.

Neville winced, but Harry stepped towards George, gently running his finger over one of the nipple rings.

George giggled, and stepped back. "I can't help it I have a greater sense of adventure, Fred." He dropped his shirt, and buttoned his robes. A loud buzzer sounded, causing Harry and Neville to jump.

"Ah, well, that'd be Martin. Sorry, guys, duty calls. Feel free to pick up anything you want up front. On the house, of course. The secret door slid aside as they approached, once again sealing itself when all four were in the 'Adult Wizard' room.

Fred clapped Harry on the back as he swept by. "Great seeing you, guys! Don't be such strangers!" He winked at them as he left the room.

George gave Harry a hug and a peck on his cheek. "Good seeing you, Harry. Stop by anytime, yeah?" George then moved to Neville, and in addition to a hug, planted a rather wet, amorous kiss on the embarrassed wizard's lips. "Take care, luv. Let me know if you need anything, anytime."

Neville blushed. "Yeah, thanks, George. I will." George smiled, and strode out onto the sales floor. Neville stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Ready, Harry? We've got a few more shops to hit if we want to make it home before dark."

Harry nodded and they both walked through the shop, waving to Fred and George as they passed. Martin gave Harry a final wink as they walked through the door and onto the street.

Neville noticed Harry's distant expression. "What?"

"What what?" Harry responded tonelessly.

"George and me, right?"

"Neville, it's really none of my business. I'm just a little surprised, that's all. Not in a bad way, just surprised. I think that's just fine. George is great. Really."

"Well, it really wasn't like that. He helped me to figure a lot of things out. About me. About you. And we just slept together. Slept! Once! That's all. That was weeks ago."

Harry put his hand out and stopped Neville, turning the taller wizard to face him. "Hey, Nev, you don't have to say anything. It's fine, yeah? I'm glad you had someone to talk to." He ran his hand across Neville's cheek. Neville leaned into it, and Harry reached up and pressed their lips together. They enjoyed the kiss for a few moments, until some comments from passersby ended it.

"C'mon, Nev. Let's get a move on. Where to next?"

Neville looked around to get his bearings. "There's the Apothecary. Let's start there."

They were able to find nearly all of the necessary ingredients for the Wolfsbane potion at the Apothecary. After that, Harry wanted to stop by Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick up some treats for Hedwig. Hagrid was keeping an eye on her at Hogwarts. He missed his owl terribly, and was certain she was most likely displeased with him for leaving her at the school. Harry arranged for his package to be Owled to Hagrid's hut.

They visited Quality Quidditch Supplies next, and even though they didn't make a purchase, it was always worth a stop to look a the line of new racing brooms and other Quidditch equipment.

Neville made a quick dash into Flourish and Blotts, making Harry wait outside. He emerged a few minutes later, with a plain brown package. Harry eyed the package, shifting his gaze from it to Neville's eyes and back again. Neville merely had a satisfied smile pasted to his face. When it became clear that the taller Wizard had no intentions of divulging the contents of the package, Harry shrugged and headed down the street. On the way through The Leaky Cauldron, Harry picked up a bottle of Firewhiskey from the bar.

The cycle ride home wasn't nearly as frightening. Either Harry had gotten used to Neville's driving, or he was just plain tired. When they arrived behind Grimmauld place it was still early afternoon. Once the wards dropped, Neville wheeled the cycle through the gate and into the garden. Harry took all the packages inside, dropping them on the kitchen table. He charmed a fire in the hearth, and shrugged out of his leather jacket. A few minutes later, Neville walked in, placing his jacket on top of Harry's.

"So, are you hungry? I can see what there is for dinner around here."

Harry snaked his arms around Neville's waist. "Yeah, I'm hungry, all right." He kissed the taller wizard hungrily, his tongue pushing past Neville's lips.

Neville returned the affection with relish, running both his hands across Harry's back and under the waistband of his jeans. Harry began to grind his hips into Neville's, feeling the first stirrings of the taller wizard's cock through his jeans. Harry was also growing hard. They both began to move faster, their hands now moving all over each other's bodies, touching, squeezing, sampling. Harry pushed away, and ran his hands under Neville's t-shirt, feeling his smooth stomach, going upwards towards the lean chest. He ran his hands over the mounded nipples, and Neville moaned slightly, constantly keeping his hips in contact with Harry's. They kissed again, their breaths coming faster now.

Neither one saw Kreacher clomp into the kitchen with a grubby parcel. They weren't aware of his presence until the elf dropped the package on the table with a firm whump.

Neville started, and Harry pulled away a second later. Kreacher had stopped to stare at them, a smile on his sagging grey face.

"I have found it, Master. You are welcome." The elf paused a moment more, before walking out of the room. They could hear him giggle softly as he shambled up the hallway.

Harry's eyes were ablaze, and he had broken into a wide smile.

"That's it! That's it! Neville, it was here, all along!" Harry grabbed the parcel with shaking hands and began pulling off the filthy outer covering. It came off easily, revealing another covering, this one made of blue dragon hide, tied with heartstring. There was a small piece of parchment held in place under the ties.

"What is it, Harry?" Neville stood behind Harry, his hands on the shorter Wizard's shoulders.

Harry didn't answer. He had carefully pulled out the old piece of parchment. Unfolding it, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Harry, what is it?"

Harry handed him the parchment and walked across the kitchen.

Neville scanned the intricate handwriting. "Orbis Anima Exposito. Do you know what that means?"

Harry was standing in front of the hearth, staring at the flames.

"Yeah, Neville, I think I know what it means. It says how to open the box. How we can get the Horcrux that's inside of it."