Harry Potter and PureBlooded Truths

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Harry Potter and Pure Blooded Truths,



Chapter 2



Lost and Found



Magical artifacts were of no use to the woman; she had been born a squib and had lived amongst muggles for the past fifteen years. Lacking inherent magic within herself did not prevent her from staying in contact with the magical world, however, nor from providing what little services she could in the fight against Voldemort, the man responsible for exterminating her entire family



On a rare outing in Diagon Alley, Arabella had been browsing the shopping district when she had spotted a sign overhead, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Recognizing the name for her involvement with the Order of the Phoenix, the woman had elected to enter the store and browse around as she still had a few free hours before she needed to return home.



Upon entering the store, the petite woman had noticed a colorful display board, located on the wall opposite the store front. Without a compelling reason for having entered the store, Arabella had gravitated towards the colorful display. Standing in front of the board, the woman had a fleeting thought that the shop keep had probably imbibed the board with an attraction charm, for she felt that she had been inexplicably drawn to the board.



Arabella remained rooted to the spot for several minutes as the board was ever changing, flashing through several renditions of advertisements, each one showcasing a newly released product, complete with graphic pictures, depicting some rather elaborate scenes and suggested comical uses.



Cantankerous Cravings — Is Larry losing weight more quickly than you would like? Have no fear, Cantankerous Cravings are here! One application of this flavorless, colorless, odorless, nigh undetectable powder can and will make his table manners disappear so fast, you’d think they had apparated away.



Gaseous Gertrude — Beans, beans, the magical fruit, The more he eats the more you’ll hoot, The more you hoot the better you’ll feel, So come buy some at a real good deal! ...sound effects, an added bonus but not guaranteed.



Acne Afire — There’s nothing hot about a man using Acne Afire, although he could compete with the Chain of Fire. Volcanoes of pus on every face, guaranteed. One application will assure you that the suitor will no longer lust after your rival’s face oozing pus.



Booger Bubbles — A babysitter’s delight. Little ones will entertain themselves for hours. Make sure the little buggers are indoors as the bubble has been found to make the smaller tykes airborne. Warning, secure nearby puffskeins as exploded remains have been reported resulting from their gorging on overly abundant boogers.



Thoroughly amused by the claims on the display board, the woman then began to roam the aisles, browsing and reading more product labels. Rounding her third aisle, Arabella had spied the prominent poster that hung behind the check-out counter. With every purchase, one could obtain a complimentary charm for hiding the true nature of the product to the recipient.



One of the proprietors had noticed that the elderly woman, whom he’d mentally tagged as an in-and-outer, a person who unknowingly enters the shop and would then leave immediately after realizing the types of products for sale, paid her little attention until he heard her constant chuckles in and around various aisles.



Always happy to meet and greet any admirers, Fred ventured to introduce himself to one of their newest fans.



She had been enjoying herself, reading some of the product labels on the shelves, when she had felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She had been so absorbed in what she was reading that the tap had startled her. So much so that she had accidentally let go of the package, and it had started to free fall towards the floor. The boy with fast hands and red hair had lunged, catching the bottle in mid-air, and had then grinned at her after he had resumed his full height.



“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” had come the quick response from the youth. For the briefest moment, the youth did project a look of concern before it was immediately replaced with a genuine smile.



He then provided her with the reason he had approached her, “I heard you laughing and I was curious what you found so amusing.”



Noticing the boy had red hair and an abundance of freckles, Arabella knew this child must be one of Arthur and Molly’s children. “Oh, I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized that I was being so loud,” came her immediate response, finger tips reaching as if to touch her lips in embarrassment, but not succeeding in camouflaging the smile that lingered on her face.



“It’s just that reading these products brought back memories of my childhood,” she explained looking up at the tall red head, as her smile broadened to one of a mischievous grin. A type of grin the red headed boy was all too familiar with.



Sensing that there were stories he just had to hear, the boy reached out, took her hand in his, and started directing the two of them towards the rear of the store where his brother George was restocking inventory.



Looking down at his brother who was in a crouched position he began, “George, think you can finish that later?”



George looked up from what he was doing to better hear his brother.



“I was thinking that it would be nice to take a break and enjoy a spot of tea with one of our customers.”



His brother Fred was not known for taking breaks during shop hours but when George had spotted a familiar grin on his brother\'s face, one that all too often preceded mischief, his curiosity was peeked.



Knowing his twin was up to something, and without a moment’s hesitation, George had decided that he was not going to miss out on what his brother was up to. Only a killing curse could keep him away from learning what put that grin on his brother’s face.



Pushing himself up from the floor, he brushed his palms together, then rubbed them on his trousers, ridding them of the grit that stuck to his palms from the flooring.



Responding to his brother with an equally mischievous grin, “Right you are, brother of mine. A spot of tea sounds like a right lovely idea.”



Heading towards the front door George continued, “I’ll join you after I adjust the door chime to ring in the back room.”



“Wouldn’t do respectable businessmen any good to go around ignoring customers, now would it?” he said, shooting back a glance at the two still standing in aisle three.



“Right you are, oh wise elder brother of mine,” came the cheerful retort.



As the afternoon wore on, the twins had discovered that she was a neighbor to their benefactor, one Harry Potter. And this is when their friendship began in earnest. The three had decided to collectively work together, to make life easier for Harry. With these three pooling their resources and accessibility, life at the Dursley’s should be less stressful for their mutual friend, and potentially profitable for them. All in all, a beautiful business relationship blossomed that afternoon.



True to their pledge of wanting to take care of Harry, the Weasley twins had petitioned the Ministry for permission to obtain two transporter boxes under the guise that they were to be used for business purposes and for the protection of the wizarding community. The proposal stated that one box would be stationed at the store while the other box would be at the home of a silent business partner, the person who would aid them in perfecting various products.



The application pointed out that the boxes would eliminate the need for messenger owls, a possible hazard that would be avoided whenever possible, as an owl could become incapacitated and drop the experimental product in an unsuspecting populated area. While their finished products were relatively harmless, the same could not be said for some of their products before they were perfected. What the twins had ‘neglected’ to inform the Ministry was that the products they would be sending to their mentor were actually already perfected, their marketing had just been delayed, for reasons they felt best to not reveal.



Usually, transporter boxes came in pairs, with additional Ministry approval, additional boxes could be added to the circuit; but the boys were only interested in two boxes, one for themselves and one for their ‘mentor’. The boxes did exactly what the name implied, they transported items from one box to the other.



The twins supplied their test partner with products that would not cause too much alarm in the muggle realm, there were no morsels that turned a person’s hair into a style that would rival Medusa’s or flashed alternating colors. Through a collaborative effort, Arabella’s ideas and the boys’ abilities, they had even created some charms that were used exclusively on muggle products. One such product was the identification spray can, dubbed Anonymously Signed. After the perpetrator vandalized public property with one of these cans of spray paint, a signature of the artist would appear at the bottom of the graffiti so that the creator could be properly thanked by the local law enforcement group. Arabella especially liked these types of products as they would eventually impart the troublemakers into having to clean up their ways or pay a higher penalty each time they were caught.



Due to an unforeseen business rush, delivery of the latest product ready for muggle testing had been delayed, putting a time constraint on the woman. Being reduced to using time release potions, she had to act swiftly once she readied the potion for application, as time became a precious commodity to her and her deeds. Having barely enough time to quickly scan the accompanying directions, Arabella grabbed the bottle of potion and headed out the door, calling for Mr. Tibbles, her cat.



He readily came to her bidding, appearing from the bushes adjacent to her backdoor, when he distinctly heard the word, tuna. Being a cat, Mr. Tibbles had no need to understand everything his owner said, however, after years of living with the woman, he had picked up on a few key words and their meanings to him. Promising him a full can of tuna for his role in today’s espionage, Arabella generously rubbed the potion into his fur coat. Having heard the magical words, tuna, and rub Dudley, Mr. Tibbles knew what he needed to do to get his reward.



In her rush to get in a position to watch where Dudley would head, she had inadvertently encountered him in the Dursley driveway, where they exchanged strained pleasantries. While the woman had the boy’s attention, her cat had rubbed himself on the boy’s legs, as he had been taught and encouraged to do, recently. Initially the cat had hissed at his owner at her urgings but with repeated cans of tuna, he gave up his personal dislike for the boy, as he liked tuna more than he disliked the big lump.



With Mr. Tibbles having successfully rubbed himself on Dudley, the potion had been administered and activated. And it was now time to retreat and ready an alibi should one be necessary.



Having been rushed, the woman hadn’t had the time to read the instructions to their fullest before she hurried out the house. Reaching for her reading glasses on the kitchen counter, she picked up the bottle and read the label. She first read the name along with dubious testimonial claims, “Fat Buster” instantly wear smaller clothing. Rub a generous amount of Fat Buster on your clothing and you’ll be rewarded with them shrinking before your very eyes.



A glint temporarily draped over her eyes as she had a pretty strong inkling what the product did. She felt pretty confident that the product was not a diet lotion as it was poorly suggesting to the naive reader, rather something quite different.



These boys are geniuses. Horatio would have enjoyed them. But then, putting the three of them together, she never finished her thought as her kettle had started whistling for her attention.



Sitting at the table with her steaming cup, she picked up the letter that had accompanied the latest test potion, rereading it as she only had time to skim it before she rushed out to meet Dudley.



Dear Mrs. Figg,



We were pleased to learn of our latest successful product, and thoroughly enjoyed the photos you sent as proof. We’re glad that you agree with us that It’s always best to have documentation when promoting the effectiveness of a new product. Photos in hand we see that this was a complete success and need not be further tested.



We have already started production and are actively adding it to our growing product line of “Git Getters”. We plan to label that particular product, “Spiders Surprise”. The bottle will be adorned with a replica of one of the photos you sent.



Alas, If the friend of Harry’s cousin had contacted us we could have informed him that we had developed an antidote that would have rid his head full of spiders after only 3 applications, (the eggs are rather resistant, hence the need for multiple applications) rather than having to shave his head.



We won’t be using the photos of him at the muggle barber shop on the product, however, we do have them pinned up in our shop for display, on our product testing board. So, the next time you visit our shop, make sure you take notice of the bulletin board.



Anybody who’d be dumb enough to pick up a hat from off the street and put it on their head deserves what he gets.



Arabella had put potion in a hat and left it where Dudley and his friends hung out and then waited on the park bench with a camera in her purse while she fed the pigeons stale bread. Arabella was secretly pleased when she saw that it was Bruce Snodgrass who had picked the hat up and was animatedly acting with it, pretending he was a Jamaican drug lord as it was a crocheted hat with attached dread locks. She had never liked that boy, he was nearly as large as Dudley and she’d seen him bully children smaller then himself for years.



Again we want to take this opportunity to express our deepest gratitude in your sacrificing your precious time in helping us with our product testing. Our reputation for selling products as labeled is one we take great pride in.



Now, onto current business, today’s product is one that needs to be applied to a piece of the victim’s clothing. We suggest you rub a generous amount on Mr. Tibbles and have him aid you in rubbing himself on a target. We assure you that no harm will come to Mr. Tibbles as this potion only affects woven fabrics and not fur.



Once the potion is applied to the victim’s pants, please notify us by tapping on the enclosed wrist watch 3 times. The watch is charmed to whistle in our shop and announce that the product has been activated. We request that this be done as we are still working out on the strength of the potion. The timing of activation varies with fiber content and this is something we’re trying to counter.



The effect that we’re striving for is for the victim’s clothing to unravel at a rate slow enough that the thought of coming into contact with the person applying the potion would not even be considered as being responsible for the loss of their clothing. Once we are notified that the potion has been activated, we will apparate to the local park and observe the outcome for ourselves.



Should this prove to be as successful as our other products, we will gladly send you copies of the pictures.



Product testing is extremely important and we want to thank you again for the sacrifice you’re willing to make in the name of duty, for the protection of Harry and for the “Git Getters” product line.



Attached please find our latest product ready for testing.



Fred and George





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Having just finished his heaping sized portion of the pot roast dinner, Vernon pushed his chair back from the table and absently rubbed his protruding belly. “Petunia, marvelous meal,” he barked out in a voice that was meant to be comforting and complimentary, but his tone never really had that quality.



Having lived with the man for some years, Petunia was not put off by his gruff voice or mannerisms at the dinner table, impulsively pursed her lips together and meekly thanked him.



“Yes indeed. Food tastes so much better without that boy’s presence polluting the table, always acting like he’s deserving,” Vernon finished with an indignant huff.



“I don’t know what happened at that school of his this year, but as far as I’m concerned, it can happen again so that he’ll come home and shut himself up in his room next summer,” he said, all the while continuing to rub his stomach in a satisfied circular motion.



Believing her husband’s comments needed no response, Petunia stood and started removing the empty dinner plates from the table. There were no leftovers to put away, nor did she concern herself with wondering what Harry was eating these days. If he doesn’t feel like coming down to the dinner table when the rest of the family eats, then he can attend to his own needs, was her self proclaimed indignant attitude. She didn’t mind cooking for her own family, but he wasn’t really hers; he was nothing more than a part time freeloader. One who should be grateful for any and all hand outs that came his way.



Vernon and his overly large son Dudley made no motion to leave the kitchen table. They remained in their seats, knowing that dessert would appear on clean plates in front of them as soon as Petunia cleared the dirty dishes. Fastidiously clean and bound by a self imposed routine, Petunia never dished out dessert until the table was cleared of all sullied utensils.



A large piece of coconut cream pie appeared in front of each of the two men who nary grunted an approval before they shoved forkful after forkful into their greedy mouths. Appetite sated, Vernon pushed his plate away from himself before rising from the table. He left the kitchen and entered the den, both hands scratching the sides of his bulging girth.



Before plopping down in his favorite chair, he reached for the remote and turned the telly on. It was still set at the station Petunia had last watched her afternoon soap opera on, and a news program appeared. Before Vernon could change the channel to an evening game show, the newscaster gave an account of an occurrence of a tragic house fire in a London suburb. The house had exploded under mysterious circumstances and a car was found lodged on the roof of the second story flat. Investigators were still on the scene and had yet to determine a sequence of events that could have yielded the outcome for the bizarre tragedy.



While his father’s attention was occupied by the telly, Dudley slipped out the front door to meet up with his gang.



Before he was able to cross the driveway, he was met by a voice.



“Hello, Dudley, and how are you this evening?”



Irritated at having been interrupted in his quest to meet up with his gang, Dudley turned around to be met by a deep, searching stare. “Oh, good evening Mrs. Figg.” He paused before he continued with what he considered to be a polite conversation, “Just out for a bit of fresh air.” He didn’t care for this busybody and she was even more bothersome this summer than she had ever been before.



Undeterred by the obvious brush off, Mrs. Figg elected to ignore the slight and continued rambling. “Oh, I’m out to get a bit of air myself. It’s a lovely evening for a stroll, isn’t it?”



Wanting to ignore the old woman, Dudley started to take a step away when his footing was blocked by Mr. Tibbles, the woman’s cat. Mrs. Figg’s eyes followed the direction the boy’s took and noticed her cat had interrupted his quick departure.



Smiling at her pet, she spoke in a slightly higher and excited voice, “Oh, Mr. Tibbles, there you are. I was wondering where you had run off to.”



The two of them continued to watch the antics of the cat, and Dudley grimaced when he saw that the cat had started to affectionately rub itself on his leg. If the old woman wasn’t standing right there in front of him, he would have kicked the annoying pest out of the way. Disgusting filthy flea bag’s rubbing on me, he thought.



“Errr... your cat sure seems to have gotten, ummm... big, recently.”



Biting her tongue, the woman barely reigned in the temptation to chastise Dudley for the absurdity of his referring to another as plump, the woman sweetly smiled and replied, “Well, I have been generously rewarding him lately, so I guess he has put on a bit of weight.”



Bending down in an effort to lessen the height difference between herself and her pet, Arabella started a new conversation, in the voice she used when addressing Mr. Tibbles, “I see you’ve taken a liking to young Mr. Dursley. I’m sooooo glad. That’s quite a change from before, eh?” Her last comment had an odd inflection and finished with her standing erect and looking at Dudley with a crooked smile on her face.



Dudley remembered how her cat used to hiss and spit at him whenever they were near one another.



“Ahh, yea, nice.” And before she could start up any more chatter keeping him there, Dudley clipped her a later wave and said his good byes.



When he left, Arabella just smiled and tapped her wristwatch, noting the time.





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It was rather late in the evening for the Minister of Magic to still be in his office, but there he was, along with a group of seven other individuals.



“And you’re sure that you oblivated all the muggles milling about the area?” Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister asked the head auror in charge. “Can’t have any muggles reporting suspicious sightings of us, now, can we?”



“Yes, sir,” came the response from the shaggy brunet wearing a green headband, “The Oblivation Squad was called as soon as the area was secured and assessed free of danger.”



Looking the man closest to the bookcase over closely, the Minister asked, “Any idea what happened out there?”



At this the Head of the Auror Department, Gawain Robards spoke up, “As I have explained to your deputy, the alarms in the office went off notifying us that a large discharge of magical energy was emanating from a muggle suburb of London. Once we got to the scene, there was very little left for us to tend to as the skirmish was already over.”



He continued his account, nodding toward another man in the room, “Kelton Abbernorth found an unidentified wizard among the rubble who was able to utter a few words before he disappeared.”



Rufus, turned from Robards and looked at the group of aurors gathered in his office and asked, “Which one of you is Abbernorth.”



“That would be me, sir,” came the soft, hesitant voice from the man standing third from the left in the row in front of the Minister.



“New recruit?” came the question from Rufus, having left the position of Head Auror the year prior, he knew most in the department.



“Yes sir, finished training just last month,” came the voice ringing with pride.



“Welcome aboard. Always good to have a fresh set of eyes around. Now, what can you tell me about this mystery man you happened across,” came the probing question from Minister Scrimgeour.



Being a new recruit and fresh out of the training program, Kelton was a bit nervous to be confronted by the Minister of Magic on his second ever assignment.



He closed his eyes and gathered up his nerve and then began his recitation, “As Head Auror Robards said, an alarm sounded in the office alerting us to a magical discharge. Inger Hutchinson summoned the map that displayed the location of the discharge while the rest of us gathered up our tools of the trade before departure.”



Starting to feel comfortable with his reporting, he continued in a more steady voice, “Once we apparated to the site, we saw that the home was on fire.”



“Continue, Mr. Abbernorth, you’re doing just fine,” came the encouraging words from the Minister.



“Once we got to the scene,” Kelton paused, closed his eyes as if visualizing the crime scene replay in his head, “Leverett immediately pointed to a muggle transportation contraption on the roof of the flat and as our squad leader he called out for us to assume the Alpha Omega formation.”



Continuing as if he was reciting from his text books, “As standard protocol for the Alpha Omega, search and rescuedictates that we spread out from one another in a specific pattern to look for clues and survivors.”



Having gotten a cadence and a level of comfort in his report giving, Kelton continued, “I left the street and headed to the western side of the dwelling. Rounding a large oak tree, I noticed a large black mass on the ground. I cautiously walked over to the object and noticed that the mass was a person. I ran a quick vital signs check as we’ve been taught and found that the person had a faint heart beat. I bent down and asked him if he knew what had happened and that assistance would arrive shortly.”



“The wizard looked me in the eye, started moaning and babbling. The only coherent words I could make out was that he kept repeating something about a jewel, he kept repeating that there was a double jewel. And then the man shimmered and disappeared.”



“What do you mean he disappeared, didn’t the team post anti-apparation wards upon arrival?” came the immediate irritated response from the Minister.



“Yes sir,” came the booming voice from another man in the room, “anti-apparation wards were firmly in place within seconds of our arrival.”



After a brief pause, Auror Kelton continued with his eye witness account, “I mean exactly what I said sir. He shimmered and faded away. It was no apparation that I’m familiar with,” worry creeping into his response.



Looking directly into Scrimgeour’s eyes, Kelton said, “I made my report to my department head, and he’s cleared me on it, sir.”



Nodding towards Head Auror Robards, Kelton added, “He suggested that I submit the memory into the department pensive so that it could be examined by others for accuracy.”



“Excellent idea, quite commendable Mr. Robards,” came the booming tones of praise from Scrimgeour.



Looking at Robards, “And have you had time to review the memory to make further observations that might have been missed?” came the question from Minister Scrimgeour.



“Yes Minister, the memory has been deposited and reviewed by myself but no more than what Mr. Abernorth has accounted to you has been uncovered,” came his professional response, followed by a piercing, prolonged stare, locking eyes with the Minister.



“Very well then, you are dismissed. I will be looking for your finalized report in the morning,” came the final dismissal of the gathering from the Minister.



Having noticed the look on his friend’s face, Rufus knew they needed to have a private conversation.



“Gawain, if you would remain, I have a few questions for you,” he said before all the men were able to file out of the doorway and to their own offices.



While the men were filing out of the office, Head Auror, Gawain Robards barked a few orders to them while he remained in the office. Waiting for the office to clear, Rufus Scrimgeour stood looking out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He wasn’t really looking outside as the Ministry was located underground, rather he was looking at an enchanted window. A magically created window that provided a view outside the Ministry, mimicking even the time of day.



When Rufus heard his friend clear his throat, he knew it was to signal that they were alone. He turned and saw his old friend looking at him. A look that spoke volumes to Rufus.



Motioning to the chair in front of the desk he said, “Please have a seat.” And while Gawain took the seat indicated, Rufus limped over to his behind the large mahogany desk.



With both men seated, Rufus waved his wand and a bottle of fire whiskey appeared along with two thick, crystal cut glasses. Not knowing the reason, but knowing his friend well enough to know the look he’d given him earlier, he knew his friend was bearing bad news, and as such, he could use a drink to soften the blow.



Pouring both glasses by hand, Rufus started out, “Thought we could both use a drink after the long night.”



Before Rufus was elected to the office of Minister of Magic, the two veteran aurors shared many a night over a glass of fire whiskey. After having their wounds patched up, the two would find their way back to the office, write up their reports and discuss what they could have done differently for a better, less bloody outcome. Now, they shared a glass in the Minister’s office, and the atmosphere was stiff, compared to the easy camaraderie they had shared in the past.



“What can you tell me about this mystery wizard,” Rufus asked after he had a sip from his glass.



In no hurry to answer, enjoying the sensation of a fine blend on his tongue, the auror began, “Truth of the matter is, he really is a mystery. I ran a composite on him already and our records came back blank. I even checked foreign records, there’s no record of his existence anywhere.”



This news did not have a calming effect on the Minister. Taking in another mouthful and staring at his glass still held at eye level, Rufus further probed, “Any idea what the man was after?”



“At this time, we know nothing more than what you were told earlier. That he made some incoherent statement about searching for a couple of jewels.”



Taking another drink, finishing the glasses’ contents, Gawain continued, “Not sure if the worst of it is what he’s after, but also what he is.”



Not understanding his friend, Rufus knew not to interrupt, instead poured both of them another drink, allowing time for his friend to gather his thoughts.



“I have reason to believe that he was a hunter,” eventually came the softer than normal tones from the man.



“Are you sure?” came the immediate response from Rufus who was so startled with this information he sloshed some of the liquid out of the glass from his abrupt movement at the news.



“I’m as sure as I can be. I recognized the insignia on the man’s wrist in the pensieve before it and he vanished. I made no mention of this to Kelton as he’s a new recruit. Nor have I allowed anybody else to review the pensieve.”



“I have not been able to determine the source of the magical discharge, either. If it was from this jewel the hunter was searching for, we must find it before He-Should-Not-Be-Named does. While the destruction was contained to the one flat, the discharge would have done a lot more damage to the surrounding structures if it had not been expertly channeled.”



“The discharge was recorded to have been that strong?” came the question from Rufus.



Reaching his hand out, placing the empty glass on the desk he said, “It was strong enough that if this weapon were to fall into the wrong hands, the wizarding community at large would be in serious jeopardy.”



The auror stood at the end of this statement and said to the man behind the desk, “I need to get back to my men and make sure all the information is properly entered before their shift ends.” Nodding his head towards the man behind the desk, “If you’re satisfied with our findings for now, I’ll take my leave.”



Pressing his glass against his lips after draining the last of it’s contents, the Minister deep in thought, waved the man off absently. A wizard pursued by a hunter never spells good news. And a hunter that was wounded is even more troubling as that means the wielder is quite strong, were some of the thoughts racing around his head. What could be so sought after that the hidden society of the hunters ventured out in the open?



This wizard on the lose is not somebody I want to embrace as a tourist, but then, not somebody I can risk snubbing either. No good could come from making an enemy of somebody strong enough to escape a hunter.



The Wizengamot is going to have a lot of questions for me in the morning he thought as he rose to leave for the evening to go home and sleep. He needed to make sure he got plenty of rest before the battery of questions began.





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An owl flew in through the kitchen window and landed on the back of a wooden chair. He then promptly held his leg out for Hermione to relieve him of the package he bore. Already at the table, shoving the last bite of bagel into her mouth, Hermione untied the parcel from the owl’s leg and dropped a few knuts in the pouch as payment for the paper and held out a strip of bacon she’d saved for his arrival. Cooing in delight with the treat, the owl quickly finished his snack, flapped his large wings and left out the window, the same way he had arrived, silently.



Never wanting to be cut off from the world Hermione had adopted and adapted herself to at the age of eleven, she had made arrangements to receive the Daily Prophet while at her parents home during the summer months. With an impending war and the subsequent rise of Voldemort, Hermione was determined to stay abreast and current regarding events in the wizarding world. To be uninformed could be detrimental, especially to a muggle born, whom the Death Eaters relished using in their campaigns of torture.



The paper was not, in her opinion, written with the intentions of intelligently informing the wizarding community. Rather, it appeared to cater to a few political allies that had successfully garnered themselves in a position of power. Stories were often times slanted to promote one belief over another, rather than to impartially report facts. However, if one critically read between the lines of the noteworthy articles, one could surmise the real goings on while essentially being cocooned from the wizarding world.



Quickly scanning the headlines, it looked like things were relatively quiet in the wizarding world so she relaxed a bit and spread the paper out on the table and started devouring it with the same attention that she had just paid her breakfast. She noticed an article on the increase of wizards applying to become aurors and the Ministry’s promotion of Joseph Berm to superintendent of the Parcel Delivery Department, both articles she skipped. And then, on page seven she noticed a story heading that caught her attention.



Mysterious Wizard Found and Lost



by Amanda Farkhorn



On the evening of July 23rd a magical disturbance was recorded in the Aurors Department at the Ministry of Magic. Upon further investigation, the discharge was found to have originated from a muggle suburb of London.



Aurors were immediately dispatched, arriving on a scene of complete chaos. The auror in charge of the investigation, noticed that not only was the muggle dwelling ablaze, but that a muggle transportation box was firmly lodged on the roof, too.



Following protocol, the team then spread out and searched for survivors. An unknown wizard was found lying on the ground near a tree but when questioned, he disappeared. Muggle rescue workers showed up at the scene, putting an end to the aurors gathering additional information or the identification of the wizard.



According to Inger Hutchinson, an auror on the scene, “It was like the muggles were crawling out of the woodwork, some came in moving boxes with lights and sirens while others were crowding in the streets. We had to leave the scene for fear of being seen.”



Questioning the Department Head of the aurors, Gawain Robards, had nothing to add to the story about the mysterious disappearing wizard.



Hermione read the article through a couple of times before she was satisfied. Placing the paper flat, she thought about the news she’d heard on the telly several nights ago. That a mysterious explosion occurred in a suburb a few townships over and that a car was lodged in the roof of the home.



Crime investigators were baffled how an explosion could send a car onto the roof of a home with no damage to the surrounding structures. The only structure damaged was the abandoned home where the explosion happened.



The owner of the car was found unconscious in a park two miles from the scene. And when questioned, he had no idea how he’d gotten there or how he was separated from his car. The last thing he remembered was leaving the pub at around 1:30am, after claiming to having had only 3 drafts. Toxicology reports had determined that the man was not intoxicated nor could they find any evidence of drugs in his system to explain his memory loss. As a result, the crime was still open as cause or culprit had not been found.



Hermione thought the story a bit strange at the time but hadn’t paid it much attention, dismissing it as a gang related incident as they were known to hang out at the pub the man visited. That part of town was known by locals as being a bit seedy, with gang fights often times breaking out over control issues.



But now, now that she read about the same story, told radically different, but the same story in the Daily Prophet, she grew concerned.



This is not some gang turf war as the news report on the telly had eluded to. This is much more serious. Starting to get a bit alarmed where her thoughts were headed, her breathing hitched. This means that there was a wizarding battle in the muggle part of London, and the car’s owner was obviously oblivated. At one time, I too would have thought the man had imbibed too much, but now, I know there are other factors that can explain the unexplainable. Things that are kept from muggles.



I need to owl Ron and see if his father has mentioned anything. He works at the Ministry and he might have heard some office gossip about this attack.



She promptly left the table, went to her room where she had parchment and quill on her desk and began a letter to Ron.





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As was customary, Lucius was sitting at the table in the sunroom enjoying a cup of tea when the paper arrived. He always rose before the rest of the household and cherished these moments of solitude before he began his hectic days of business dealings and persuasions.



Unfurling the paper, he scanned the headlines to see if there was an article of particular interest that he would read before he began reading the typical articles the paper printed. Seeing nothing of note or importance in the morning’s headlines, he took a bite of his poppy seed muffin and started reading the lead stories.



He was on his 3rd cup of tea and had just finished reading the article about the mysterious wizard when Narcissa graced the room with her presence.



“Lucius,” Narcissa’s voice came from the entrance of the sunroom.



Having been married to the woman for nearly twenty years, he had not tired of admiring her beauty or the way she carried herself. Words uttered from her mouth were not necessary for anyone to notice her in a room full of people. She was the embodiment of elegance and grace with little to no effort.



Lucius stared at her while she had her back to him, pouring herself a cup of tea. He truly admired her carriage, even the way she coiled her blonde hair around her white neck in the mornings before she dressed for the day was not lost to him. He couldn’t imagine being married to any other witch. Regardless of any business transaction or alliances deemed necessary, she is the only one he has ever truly cared for.



“Lucius dear, I would like to plan a confirmation party for Draco, and in order to do so, I need to know your schedule for the next few weeks,” Narcissa began as she slipped into a small chair opposite her husband.



Reaching down, Lucius retrieved his napkin and dabbed the corner of his mouth before speaking, “Now Cissy dear, I know you like to play the neglectful father card from time to time, but I happen to be aware that Draco just had his 16th birthday and not his 17th.”



Placing the linen napkin over his empty breakfast plate, he looked contemplatively at his wife. What in Merlin’s name is she planning?



She provided an answer to his unspoken question, “Oh, this will not be a party in honor of his attaining his magical inheritance, this will be a party to acknowledge him as your legal heir.”



Seeing that her husband folded the paper back to it’s original form, leaving it unattended on the table, she knew that he was honoring her with his full attention, so she continued “It would not be a formal affair, a small dinner party with about 275 of our closest friends would suffice.”



Reaching over and placing a croissant on her breakfast plate, she continued, “I want Draco to be formally acknowledged as your legal heir. Next year, after his 17th birthday, he will come into his magical inheritance and we can throw him a gala affair at that time, one befitting a Malfoy.”



She absentmindedly tore a corner of her croissant off before she continued, “But for this,” here she placed a slight pause, as if she was gathering the proper words to clearly express herself, “I’m thinking that a small intimate gathering would be adequate. One that will acquaint Draco with some of the intricate duties he will be obligated to fulfill in the coming years.”



Still looking at his wife, Lucius’ mind began whirling all the scenarios, Legal heir. Well, yes this is done, it’s not common practice but with a war pending, it would be prudent and would also give Draco a heads up who some of my more loyal business constituents are.



This way, should something unforeseen happen within the next year, Malfoy enterprises should not falter as Draco will have been formally acknowledged by myself and my business partners.



Yes, I agree dear wife, this would be very prudent.



Seeing how she so artfully maneuvered him to agree to a party under the pretense of a formal announcement of their son’s right of passage, when in reality it was designed to introduce Draco to the world of political maneuverings and favors, he bowed his head in a formal gesture of approval. She was preening their son admirably and he was favorably impressed. Lucius did not try to hide his knowing smile from his wife, his unspoken touché.



Not only is she beautiful, she is a true Slytherin, he thought. There were times he didn’t mind being manipulated for a worthy cause.



He rose from the table, paper firmly in hand, leaned over and gave her a light kiss on the cheek and responded, “A party would be fine. Give me a moment and I’ll retrieve my calendar from the office.”



She had inclined her head to accept the kiss and quietly replied with the smallest hint of a smile broaching her face, “I was hoping you would have no objections.”



Gathering up his calendar from his desk, he first examined today’s schedule and saw that he had a two hour block in the afternoon that was free of appointments. He wrote a quick note and sent it off by owl before he made his way back to the sunroom. The letter was addressed to one of his more reliable contacts at the Ministry, requesting an audience with him for this afternoon.



I should know more about this mystery wizard by the end of the day, Lucius thought smugly as he entered the sunroom, schedule calendar in hand.





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With the students gone for the summer, meals at Hogwarts were less noisy and more relaxed. With the reduction of noise, and interruptions at a minimum, Albus took his morning paper in the Great Hall rather than his office during the summer months. He had been scanning through the paper when a slight smile erupted on his face. With only Minerva and Filius at the table, wholly absorbed in an ongoing conversation, Dumbledore’s facial expression went unnoticed.



He had come across the article on page seven, Mysterious Wizard Found and Lost.



After reading the article, he inwardly sighed. They’ve finally arrived. With this realization, an unseen calm cascaded over his weary body, his recent state of constant tension had evaporated. Without being directly told, he knew that this article was the response he had been waiting for. That in fact, this meant that his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers had arrived and that they had agreed to his terms.



Feeling more relaxed than he had at the start of breakfast, Albus folded the paper and set it aside. With his attention no longer being given to the paper, he joined in on the long running debate between his colleagues.



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