The Rise of the Deathly Hallows

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the lovely encouragement, this chapter took me a little bit longer than expected but I think I like where I'm taking this, Madame is quite happy too and it makes me feel quite accomplished.

Hope you enjoy this chapter then.

Chapter 02.

As soon as Kingsley had given them permission, both Harry and Ron had flooed right away to Cairo, where Mr. Beghum lived, according to Madame Maxine. Apparently, however, Mr. Ershadur Beghun did not live in Cairo itself, but in a little wizarding community an hour away from the city that was so warded the only way to get in was by bus, no flooing, nor apparating.

And that was the reason bot Aurors sat in a crammed truck-like bus riding across the desert to said small community, sweating and tired from the merciless sun. A woman, holding a baby snorted at them and muttered something that, to Harry's translator spell sounded achingly close to 'Idiotic European babies', but he decided to let it go. Ron was avidly reading Bassira Beghum's file, trying to find any difference between her and Gabrielle Delacour, without much success. Without anything else to do, Harry took his afternoon edition of the Prophet, hoping it would distract him from the muttered disdain from the other passengers.

More Announcements to the Editor were just what he needed.

My love:

My life, my reason for living and breathing, please come home, I cannot dare to face life without you here. I'm sorry.

Lady Butterfly.

Harry sighed, feeling sorry for that woman. Her lover surely must be pissed off to ignore consecutive messages on the Prophet... Or maybe did not read the Prophet at all? He kept reading.

Magical Kindred:

We've all seen what is happening around us, let's unite against this new way of discrimination. All our blood is the same, all our pain is the same, we have to be together and our society will prevail.

Open your eyes, wizardry Kind.

Dietrich Harker.

Harry smiled, his idealist again. Idly he wondered what type of discrimination was Mr. Harker talking about, because as far as he was concerned all types of discrimination had been over since the end of the war, Hermione and himself had made sure of that.

Dearest Elloise:

It is with a heart full of expectations is that I ask you to be on the doorsteps of All Saints Church, at noon, where I hope you will give me the honour of becoming my lawful wife.

Yours ardently.

Your Martin.

Ah, a darker side of him wondered what would have happened if Elloise did not show up. Better be happy for them and keep his reading, they were quite near their destination anyways.

To all our sons and daughters:

Time is turning and changing, we must unite ourselves if we ever want to survive this crisis, brothers and sisters of the magical kind, The cloak is almost ready and soon the ring and the wand will join our beautiful communion, be ready, children. For our new era.

The High Priest and Priestess.

His hand was shaking Ron's shoulder before he even finished reading the announcement. The redhead growled a little before the newspaper was trusted onto his face.

"Oh, that Harker guy again," he said with a frown. "There are rumors about his family, ya know, they are up to no good and all that." Harry was ready to smack his best friend. He obviously was still sleepy, and their stop was in sight. He'd have to show him later on, after they interrogated Beghum on the case.

"Let's go, Ron, time to get off," he said as he grabbed the redhead's hand and dragged him off their bus.

Abaddon, the little community, was a pretty magical oasis in the middle of the desert, white houses lined each dusty street and children played around the green patches that appeared now and then. All in all, people seemed to be quite happy.

And Harry and Ron stood out like sore thumbs. Clad in their Auror robes and with a rudimentary translating spell there was very little they could do but follow Madame Maxine's instructions on parchment and pray there were in the correct place.

Three knocks on the door and a middle aged woman was glaring at them from the doorsteps.

"Yez?" she asked, her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Hello, Madam," Harry said awkwardly. "I'm Auror Potter and this is Auror Weasley. We're here to talk to Mr. Ershadur Beghum." The woman's black eyes widened a little before she closed the door on them. Seconds later, however, a blond man with merry green eyes opened it once more and smiled at them.

"Good day, sirs, I'm Ershadur Beghum, what can I do for you?" The man's whole posture, Ron noticed, was relaxed. He obviously expected them, and considering that three different governments were involved in the case it was easy to assume he had been questioned thoroughly by many Aurors before. Obviously he was used to them already. The redhead sighed, knowing they had already lost the element of surprise.

"Hello, sir. I'm Ron Weasley, and this is my partner Harry Potter, we are here to inquire about the disappearance of Miss Gabrielle Delacour?" he said finally, letting Harry know he was going to take the Good Auror role, and of course, that meant Harry would be Bad Auror this time. It was a common routine they had established and so far worked wonderfully against the wizarding world that was not used to the Good Cop - Bad Cop like muggles were.

Beghum did not even blink.

"Oh, of course, Mr. Weasley, horrible that something like that would happen to such a sweet girl, don't you think? My daughter was a friend of Miss Delacour and she was quite upset over the matter..." he said jovially. There was an uncomfortable silence, Mr. Beghum knew that both Aurors had much to say, and just refused to say it. Harry and Ron were waiting for any sign of weakness, any indication that the blond man was hiding something.

Harry sighed, frustrated, and decided he was stepping up. He had nothing, really, to get to Beghum, but a hunch and his already re-known good luck. He hoped it would be enough.

It had to be...

"Of course you have to feel lucky, Mr. Beghum. Considering your own child was unharmed. I mean, the resemblances between Miss Delacour and Bassira are quite astonishing." Beghum stared oddly at him, his eyes blank. Harry felt angry. This man knew something, he had to.

He decided to take a wild guess, with the Prophet still clenched in his fists, he said.

"Is this about those Deathly Hallows?" he asked finally, noting, much to his surprise, how the man's face paled considerately.

"How- How do you know about them?" Ershadur chocked, starting to sweat. Ron stared at Harry as if he had no idea what he was talking about, most likely it had to do with the newspaper announcements he had been ranting about. He shrugged and decided he might as well try.

"Your beautiful veela daughter would be safe among other veelas, don't you think? Is that why you sent her to Beauxbatons?" he asked, noticing, much to his satisfaction, how Beghum continued to pale.

"Why didn't they choose Bassira, Ershadur? Why Gabrielle?" Harry pointed, the man was already besides himself.

"I don't know, Aurors, I just wanted my daughter safe..." he said weakly.

"That is quite odd, don't you think, Harry? If I was a kidnapped I'd pick the most Veelaish girl, Bassira's percentage beats Gabrielle's any day," Ron smirked. Quite enjoying the case now.

"It would seem that way. Ershadur, talk now, that girl could have been your daughter. She's alone and scared and just wants to go home," Harry tried. "Any clue you can give us will help."

"I don't know much, just that they would choose any other veela since my daughter's percentage is too much for them, they think she's dirty!" Harry's and Ron's eyes widened.

"Dirty?"

"I cannot talk anymore, it's dangerous..." Ershadur said, his eyes wild. "Go to the old Harker Manor in Romania, the heir will tell you all you need to know." And before neither auror knew it the door was slammed on their faces.

Ron turned to Harry.

"Romania then?" he asked.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Weasley," a soft voice said. Both men turned to see a handsome young man with blond curls and bright blue eyes. Ron's eyes widened.

"Dietrich Harker!" he said, pointing. Harry blinked. Dietrich Harker? The one that wrote to the Prophet about discrimination and union between the Wizardry World?

The man smiled sweetly.

"I'm quite honored you have read my manifestos, Mr. Potter," he said taking Harry's hand in his own and kissing it lightly, gentlemanly. "On my family's behalf I must thank you for your heroism, sir. Without your most valuable help our beloved household would have fallen next to that madman's ambition." As usual, the shows of gratefulness made Harry quite uncomfortable, but this man was taking polite to a whole new level.

He wasn't sure that it would be called polite anymore.

"Cut it out, Harker," Ron said rudely. "We need to talk with your older brother," The blond man smiled.

"So I heard, how clever of Mr. Beghum to send you to Jonathan. If you gentlemen could please follow me we'll take the floo to my brother's house," and without another world the man started walking, Harry and Ron following closely.

"Don't let him charm you, Harry," the redhead warned. "Those Harkers are always dazzling humans,"

Harry sighed.

"Don't tell me, they are magical creatures too?" Ron nodded.

"The worst kind, you'll see what I mean when you see the eldest brother, a natural freak, that one. Mum warned us about them when Charlie left for Romania."

Harry refrained from saying how Ron reminded him of his aunt right now.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, if you two are done insulting my brother, this way please," Dietrich said pleasantly, his hand pointing to a solitaire fireplace hidden deep in a desert cave. Harry blushed, Ron glared. Dietrich kept smiling. "Poenari Castle!" he said as he stepped into the fireplace.

Ron paled. "We're going to Poenari Castle?? That man is insane!"

"Ron, it's our job," Harry said gently, trying to soothe his distraught friend. Ron looked at him and nodded.

"You're right, mate, but don't separate from me, ok?" he said as he sized Harry's hand and stepped into the fireplace with him. "Poenari Castle," he said with dread.

As soon as they stepped out of the fireplace they were greeted by a fairytale castle, or so Harry thought. It was beautifully carved on every corner and even though the halls were set in hard stone, it still looked cozy and lived in. Ron huffed.

Dietrich was sitting on an ornate sofa, waiting for them, his smile still in place.

"So, those are your auror friends, Dietrich?" a high voice asked from a high chair. Harry frowned.

The blond man nodded, standing up to greet his guests.

"Yes, brother, this are Mr. Ron Weasley and Mr. Harry Potter. They need information about the Deathly Hallows." Harry straightened himself, ready to greet the castle's owners, a pale hand could be seen from the chair.

"It's a pleasure to meet you finally, Mr. Harker," he said politely.

"Don't presume, Mr. Potter, you have yet to meet me," the voice said, small feet made their way to the ground form the chair.

Harry's eyes widened. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Weasley," said an apparently 10-year-old boy with short, chocolate brown hair and playful golden eyes. "Has your brother Charlie been well?"

Ron huffed.

"You would know, since you spend so much time around the reservation," Harry blinked. There seemed to be something else going on between the Harkers and the Weasleys than his friend let on. He'd have to ask him later on.

The child smirked, and sat down back again.

"Please, do take a seat," he said. Harry kept staring. "Were you expecting someone... older?" he grinned. Harry nodded dumbly.

"I don't mean to be rude but when your brother told me you were the oldest... ah-" he didn't actually know how to say it, at least not without offending his host.

"That's ok, Mr. Potter, I'm used to it," Jonathan said as his brother took a seat by his side. "As you might have guessed already, we are not completely human, Mr. Potter, let's skip the chitchat, my brother and I are vampires, my whole family is." Harry's eyes widened.

Jonathan Harker, who was a vampire, who... cliche.

The vampire seemed to read his thoughts, because he laughed out loud.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, I'll make sure to tell my granparents their tale is quite well known still," he said happily. Harry blushed. "Yes, child, my grandparents are Jonathan and Mina Harker, and as you might guess we got the infection from their, ah... friend."

"Stop the story telling, Harker, we need the information about the Deathly Hallows," Ron snapped suddenly, taking a seat, Harry, to say the least, was quite surprised. He had never seen his friend like that.

The child frowned, but nodded.

"Yes, those Deathly Hallows, what do you know so far?" he asked.

"Well, they are moving fast," Harry said. "At least that's what I take from their messages on the Prophet. Also they have Gabrielle Delacour, a half-veela, and they don't actually have the real deathly hallows, but they claim they do. As to why they are doing this, we don't know." Dietrich sighed.

"They want to clean the Wizarding World," he said sadly. "Kill all the impure magical beings,"

"Like Voldemort?" Ron asked, surprised. Jonathan shook his head.

"No no, of course not," he said. "That man, Voldemort, meant to take away the muggle genome. The Deathly Hallows, however, consider half-bloods and muggle borns wizardry kind, and aim to protect them..."

"... from us," finished Dietrich for his brother. "They say that us, magical creatures, should have never mixed with wizards. It's our stain they want to get rid of,"

"So, that's the discrimination you speak of?" Harry asked. The blond man nodded.

"My brother is powerful as he is old, he also should hold a position in the ministry considering his is the Harker heir. However he cannot go outside this castle since his condition prevented his growing. We is looked at with disdain by other ancient wizarding hoses, even though the Harker house descends from the Royal Family, to most we are nothing like animals, a plague," he explained sadly. His brother took his hand in his own, caressing them softly.

"You are taught that vampires, werewolves and other magical creatures are dangerous animals that you need to protect yourself from, but we are still human. Rouge vampires are very rare, since it's our sire's responsibility to train us. Werewolves are the same, they form packs and interact in order to stay tame, we never mean harm to wizards or muggles, but they attack us and ask questions to our corpses."

"You beasts still attacked Charlie, though," Ron snorted.

Dietrich narrowed his eyes.

"Your brother graciously agreed to help one of our own through his bloodlust, it was perfectly consensual!" he snapped.

"And you guys killed him! Was that consensual too??"

"Mr. Weasley, I don't think this is a proper moment to discuss your brother's choices, if he decided he'd rather spend his time with our Davon, then there's very little you or your parents can do about it." he said, rising to his feet. He was short, a child, but his pose and eyes commanded respect, Harry felt a shiver. "The matter at hand concerns us all, if you want to retrieve Miss Delacour before it's too late you will need our information. So, I kindly ask you to put our differences aside and work towards stopping this menace."

Harry clenched his fists.

"Why would it concern us if you all get killed? We'll get Gabrielle back and-"

"Ron!" Harry snapped. "You cannot say that, if all magical creatures are killed, they'll kill Fleur and Gabrielle, and Hagrid, they'll kill Teddy! And then, what will stop them from saying blonds or brunets are a threat too, this has to end before someone gets killed,"

Ron looked away.

"You are right, what else do you know, Mr. Harker?" he asked slowly.

The child smiled, finally letting both wizards see his sharp fangs. His brother smiled, Jonathan was finally relaxing around wizards again.

"Not much, our spies are trying to get as much information as we can but without success, the Werewolves are migrating, they don't want to get involved, others are going to the ministry to get protection." He snorted, and Harry noticed his golden eyes were full of bloody red tears. "As if those buffoons could protect someone from a group of fanatics."

Dietrich embraced his brother, as if trying to protect him.

"Brother lost his beloved because of them," he explained. "You have to understand this is not a political or military movement, they don't do this because of power or prestige, they truly think that the source of all magic has been tainted, this is their crusade, they will protect their goddess from everything until they die,"

"Be prepared to kill, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, before they kill you themselves," Jonathan said softly. "Compassion will only lead you to your deaths,"

Harry stood up, his eyes determined.

"Thank you for your information, Mr. Harker. We will do all we can," he said. The child nodded.

"As soon as we know something else we will contact you, one of our own will go to you," he said softly, Harry had the sudden impression that his man, this child, had seen too much.

"Thanks again, let's go Ron," before both disappeared from the castle Harry kept his eyes on the Harker brothers, and thought of his godson sleeping innocently on his bed. Would be he in danger too? Just because his father, a hero, was a werewolf?

He would protect him, protect them all.

With that thought he apparated back to England. He had much to think and plan.

TBC.