11

I love the sight of dead Death Eaters. It looks like Victory!

Having emptied out Azkaban Prison and a stag party at the Malfoy estate, we'd gotten all of the big bad ones, with only a handful of exceptions. Let Tom come back now, he was only half as dangerous without his followers.

It was a good day to be half insane, wearing cowboy gear, riding on the back of a giant basilisk, with an insane female Death Eater dangling out its mouth and looking like Gomez Addams!

Yes, a very good day for that indeed.

But then, what wouldn't be a good day to do that?

I'd been Obliviating in my own special way everyone I could catch just before Blinky could bite them, and also snagged a good couple of dozen wands. Hey! Try to disarm ME, why don'cha? I could afford to hide spares EVERYWHERE!

Okay, I think the madness was beginning to run away with me, time to rein myself in a bit and go on with what I was doing. It was pretty easy to demand of a house elf Bellatrix' wand if, in return, I would leave and take my basilisk with me.

One of them popped off to wherever Narcissa was hanging out (to 'give the boys some space'), told her the story and got her permission for the trade. She emphatically agreed.

So, concluding the deal, we departed.

Once more I put Slytherin's pet back in the Chamber at Hogwarts through the vanishing cabinet, stayed behind to shrink and move the cabinet to a new location. This time: Gringotts!

It was pretty simple, really, just Imperio Bellatrix into writing a letter to the goblins to deposit it in her vault, then send the shrunken cabinet to them via school owl, programmed to unshrink on its own after the owl landed there. How could you get easier than that?

I may have danced a turn or two with Bellatrix while the statue of Salazar whistled tunes for us, just to pass the time waiting, of course.

Then it was through the cabinet, into her vault, have her disarm the security protections there (or rather, in this case, key me in to them, which turned out to be far easier), then grab the cup and go!

Back through the cabinet into Hogwarts, put the snake away to digest those Death Eaters it had consumed (Hey! It had eaten them, and they'd died! You'd think they'd been asking for it with a club name like that! With the way things turned out, Tom might just as well have named his club Basilisk Munchies! Or Purina Serpent Chow! Hmm, 'Pure' 'Purina' there was some connection here.)

And it did my heart good to think on how I'd probably set Salazar to spinning in his grave, as I'd used the monster he'd left behind to destroy muggleborns as my device for wiping out much of what remained of the Purebloods!

All, really, as those that were left were too small to form an effective breeding pool, even if they all immediately paired up and started going at it like Weasleys. So within a generation or two they couldn't even keep up the illusion of having 'pure blood'.

Then, on that happy thought, as we went on our way out to arrange for Bellatrix to get whomped to death by a certain willow, I caught a glance out of a window and saw a familiar car...

Wait a minute. Car? Here on the lawn? I thought this was Hogwarts?

But, as the tantalizingly familiar vehicle pulled up just short of the steps, I saw a naggingly familiar chauffeur get out and open a door for...

Morticia Addams!

Change of plans. We didn't have time to arrange for Bellatrix' demise right then, so rather than let her escape I dragged her with me to go out, by the fastest means possible. I found a floo and we immediately used it to go to a plausibly safe location.

Number Four Privet Drive.

After all, who'd look for me there?

Since the Dursleys had been dead for weeks now, subjectively longer, at least from my frame of mind due to time travel doubling my own personal timeline, the house was quite empty of them, yet still filled with furniture and all of that. The wizards had cleaned up before they'd left, but not removed a thing.

Actually, the house probably belonged to Harry now.

Well, good for him. He could sell it if he ever needed money or he could use it as I was doing now and employ it as a safehouse.

Ah, well. Down time was a good thing to have some of here and there. It helped you organize things, sort out your thoughts and so on to be more effective and purposeful later.

So! I put Bellatrix to work on something (what, though, was a big issue. She didn't know much about anything muggle and I couldn't set her to do cleaning as the house simply didn't need it, nor did I want her going outside to do any gardening for fear she might be spotted. So she got tasked with organizing all of the junk in Dudley's former second bedroom) and sat down with a paper and fountain pen to brainstorm!

First I wrote down a list of potential untapped resources who might be useful in getting me out of this Addams mess, and on top of that list was Bellatrix LeStrange, followed closely by Miranda Granger. I also put Narcissa Malfoy down as I was pretty sure with the help of Bella, I could get her sister to do something for me (if only I figured out what to do).

Then, after scribing down Minerva McGonagall I ran out of who to put down. Several others were mirky and distrustful for one reason or another.

So, coming to the end of one train of thought, I started another column on the same sheet of paper to write down a list of possible romances for Harry, under a heading of 'Acceptable Marriage Partners'.

That came far more easily.

All of the good prospects got on the list, starting with Luna Lovegood and the Patils, Lavender Brown and all of the named girls, even Ginny (although there was some hesitancy there, as Rowling's mangling of that relationship had stung so badly that I'd been somewhat soured on it, just for fear of any work I did in the same vein being linked to her incredibly botched job).

To clear the bad taste of Rowling's contamination of the Ginny relationship out of my mind, I put down Moria, and immediately felt better.

Nymphadora Tonks and Pansy Parkinson even found their places on that list, the first for obvious reasons, and the second because, well, this was a brainstorming session, even wild ideas could be considered. And, it must be said, Pansy was slavishly devoted to doing what her family expected of her, so if we could change those expectations there was even a wild chance she could turn out well.

Not that I considered it likely, but there was a chance. And you do these kind of thing by first listing out all possibilities, then narrowing them down.

Feeling satisfied at having that done, at least as far as the listing out part, I lay the sheet down on the table and went up to check on Bella. However, as I was passing the master bedroom I heard a thump from within. Thinking that odd, but wondering if my Imperio'd prisoner had gotten turned around and got the wrong room, I peered in, reaching for a light switch as I did so as the room was dark.

"You stole the identity of a great man," a soft voice spoke from the darkness. I knew that voice, and it froze me to the spot.

There came a soft rustling of cloth as that unseen person stood. "You stole from us, a thing many have tried but none, until you, succeeded. You spent our money for us, buying deadly dark items, wearing spiders out in public and chewing on them as you did so."

She stepped into the light. It was Morticia. I felt this appalling urge to watch her as she came closer. It was like a train wreck, awful and horrible and yet you could not look away.

"You frightened small children" she told me. "Terrified their mothers. Then, after writing a seductive note to another man's wife and sending it off with gifts and flowers you made her family pay for, you took a basilisk and rode it through a prison, singing merrily at the top of your lungs as you slaughtered guards and criminals alike in an orgy of destruction. Hundreds died. Then you went and did it again, at a man's house, interrupting a party, using the man's own sister-in-law you'd kidnapped from jail in order to gain entry - a woman that you still hold enslaved to your will."

I began backing up, even reached for my wand, when she paralyzed me with a word.

"Jared."

I gazed on her in something akin to horror as she approached, closing the distance. "Oh, yes, we know who you are deep inside, behind all those masks you wear. Not Gilderoy, not Gomez, but the man you are at your heart and core. Some might call you paranoid, or a murderer. You broke into a bank and stole a priceless artifact. You casually slaughtered the family of a young boy and took control of his life yourself. You've gone insane, used Unforgivable curses, blackmailed the head of the Wizengamot, and the International Confederation of Wizards, and you have it in your heart to assassinate the Deputy Minister of Magic and possibly the Minister as well."

She stepped close, close enough to touch me, and gently kissed me on the side of my face. "All this proves you a true Addams."

My eyes had widened, and I stammered, "bu.. but... but, you guys scare me to death! I..."

She gave a soft, ethereal smile and I stammered to a halt. "Yes. And that makes you fit in all the more. You might even murder us in our beds. So, Welcome to the Family."

Okay, that was an INSANELY creepy and yet strangely Addams-ish comment.

"I must be insane to be so calm about this," I muttered. "I should be running off screaming into the night right about now."

"Oh, don't have any doubt of that, you are insane. That's part of what we love about you. But if it makes you feel any better, go ahead. I'll wait for you here until you're finished." She sat down demurely to pick up a book.

"Thank you," I bowed my head to acknowledge the offer. Oddly enough, I was almost tempted.

I quirked her a sad, disagreeing smile instead. "You do realize that in spite of being strangely attractive you are everything I despise?"

"Oh?" she rose, once again, softly to her feet, placing both her hands on my chest. "You say the sweetest things. Mon Ami"

"Oh, Tish!" I morphed into Gomez Addams once again. "You spoke French!"

"Oui," she met my eyes with a smoldering gaze.

I moved toward her only to find the blade of a sword resting against my throat. Looking down the silvery length I saw the real Gomez Addams was holding it. He tsked softly once or twice, then cast away the sword and took his wife in his arms, bending her down to smother her with kisses, which she received quite gladly.

I quickly excused myself from the scene, feeling oddly soiled that my automatic reaction to quote movies under certain circumstances had brought me close to danger of the moral kind - even if only in seeming.

I'd rather die than break any of my covenants, and had come much closer to each than I cared to. 'Avoid the very appearance of evil' and all of that.

The two began to make certain distinct noises as I left Vernon Dursley's bedroom. This was a family that would think nothing of sneaking into your room in the dead of night to perform surgery so you'd wake up with entirely different limbs, or not wake up at all! So I didn't want to stick around.

I collected Bellatrix and left the house, not wanting to be near when they finished. Okay, they hadn't killed me, and I was grateful for that, but it just wasn't safe to stick around!

Some time later Morticia would descend those stairs and found the note I'd forgotten on the table, picking it up and quirking an eyebrow in interest.

OoOoO

Arriving back at my penthouse (and seeing no reason not to return there now that I'd already been found by the Addams) I put my prisoner to work seeing to the organization of our small library by type and title, and pondered on what I was going to do with her, a pondering that included what little I knew of her.

Bellatrix was taller than most witches, had sleek, fine black hair, pale skin, a thin mouth, dark, heavily lidded eyes, and the Black family's patrician good looks and bearing. However, her beauty was somewhat hollowed out after her stay in Azkaban prison. But, ironically, not as badly as some celebrities did to themselves on purpose (and I'd never understand the ultra-thin look).

Like many members of the Black family, Bellatrix was named after a star: Bellatrix, also known as Gamma Orionis, one of the brightest stars in the constellation Orion. Her given name translated exactly from Latin as the feminine form of the noun 'warrior'. She married Rodolphus LeStrange after leaving Hogwarts 'because it was expected of her' to marry a pure-blood, although even Rowling said she had no affection for him. No, none at all.

But I did not find that at all surprising.

Actually, I'd been shocked they'd waited that long to get her hitched.

Nobility and other selective breeding groups tend to marry off their children when they were still quite young, as this tended to cut down on any nasty rebelliousness by catching them before they'd developed any interests or tastes of their own - thus drastically cutting down on instances of the kids trying to have a say in the matter of who they were going to marry. It also short-circuited any attempts to disobey or marry below their station.

Since nobility are historically also lawmakers, laws had a tendency to reflect their habits, not only allowing, but enforcing them where ever possible.

In Magical Britain, turning eleven, or Hogwarts age, was considered perfectly acceptable and respectable for a marriage, if parents desired so (seventeen, or later, if it was the student's idea). And to shield their offspring from perhaps falling into deplorable relationships with mudbloods, blood traitors or other unacceptable garbage they would unfortunately run into while at school, the Purebloods had a long established custom to have their children engaged in proper, pure-blooded relationships before they even set foot on the train.

If was scandalous if you didn't! Just think of the disobedience that might erupt!

And, to prevent any of their precious children from doing anything about it, there were rather substantial fines owed if those engagements were broken - fines which were owed by the individual, NOT the family!

Fines which, not coincidentally, would just happen to completely empty out the trust fund (these were almost always of a certain size) plus a little extra for guaranteeing the willful youth would be reduced to a pauper. Most would not even be able to continue paying for school, and so would be forced to drop out, becoming half-trained magical dregs for the most part, unable to get any real paying jobs (Sirius had been saved from such by the Potter family stepping in to fund his education).

In short, those agreements served as tools to say "Do as we say or you will be ruined and thrown out onto the streets penniless, despised by the other families as an oathbreaker, and cast out of the only society you ever knew," and were quite effective in their own brutal way at ensuring obedience.

And discretion, in those inevitable cases when they cheated on each other, because truly, the purebloods were far more interested in image than facts.

On questioning, Bellatrix revealed enough to show that the freaky pleasure pain reversal thing was not a rumor, and had been done to her. The poor girl didn't even know they'd done it to her, but from what she said, it was plainly obvious they had.

Well sadly, due to the nature of my previous bought of insanity, I'd forgotten to pick up Riddle's Diary when I was at the Malfoy house. That put my plans back by rather a large bit, as I could no long use my original plan of waiting til classes started in the new school year, then giving Ginny a detention and asking that she bring her new diary to it - trading Riddle's diary for a new, girly one, then destroying the old. Of course, Lucius was now dead, so that plan wasn't going to work now, seeing as how he couldn't be around to slip that diary to Ginny in the first place.

But that was actually a good thing on all counts.

Narcissa should be in charge now, and she still adored her sister, so all I had to do was use Bellatrix to get the Diary.

Simple, right?

Well, on that note, I felt it was time that I got introduced to the LeStrange mansion. And, wouldn't you know it? I had the appropriate person to do it right there with me! Bellatrix, as the only remaining LeStrange, ought to do just fine.

And so it proved.

I'd thought the Weasleys had a ton of land, seeing how poor they were the actual acreage surrounding their home was an intense surprise, but that got put in true perspective as I saw how much the LeStrange's had. Heck, I'd lived in TOWNS that were smaller than the lot their manor stood on!

By now I knew pureblood customs, oh, better than I'd ever wanted to! And it was no small fact that Bellatrix was the last LeStrange. But, as a detested female, she had no rights, save a few only, for the control of their property.

She could not control it. No, all she could do would be to will it to a male heir or to marry herself off and use it as her dowry. Well, I was all for having her declare me the heir and stringing her up a nearby tree, but, well, you must understand that just wasn't done!

And not, you can be sure, out of simple decency. No, the purebloods had no respect for what anyone else could call decent. Among those ancient families people killed off other people to get ahold of their fortunes all of the time, but you were at least expected to have some cleverness about it! Purebloods didn't want other purebloods hunting them with killing curses on their lips at all hours of the day and night, so they'd instituted some rules for how not to go about getting a hold on another's fortune.

And one of the first of those was that you could not inherit from someone you had killed yourself. Forcing ambitious heirs to scheme with third parties to do those deeds slowed them down by quite a bit and made things more interesting and challenging. So, if you did do it this way, at least you'd have proven to the family that you deserved the money you got out of it!

Well, I only had control of Bellatrix because of my Imperious spell on her, and I wasn't about to let go of it. Trouble was, she couldn't die with that spell on her without me being automatically excluded from any inheritance from her, due to those same rules I'd just described, and building those rules into the magical act of inheritance had been accomplished centuries before.

I wasn't about to be able to break such ancient magics on my own. Besides, I needed Bellatrix alive in order to have her convince her beloved sister to part with Riddle's diary for me.

Still, central bookkeeping was not a strong suit of the wizarding world either, so she could tell the wards whatever she liked and it wasn't going to be printed in the Prophet the next day. So, I had her key me into the household wards as her husband, transferring full control over to me.

It was the only way it could be done. She couldn't just sell it to me, as Sirius had done with his ancestral home, because women weren't allowed to dispose of the property of a family they'd married into that way. It was a great big convoluted mess, and like most legal codes made no sense whatsoever when viewed objectively, without the lenses of ancient tradition, prejudice and compromise that had prevailed over each step of its creation. But, what it all boiled down to was that as the last remaining LeStrange she could control very few of the rights a male head of family could in her place, and none of those let her sell things. But she could arrange a marriage for any female clan member (herself included) and decide upon a dowry - an amount of cash or property to be transferred to the male she was wedding.

We just set that amount to everything the LeStrange family had and told the wards so, granting me full control of everything in the whole estate, making this now Lockhart Manor, instead of its former name.

Luckily for me, in a good and proper household, this was something the eldest female (Bellatrix) would be expected to prepare and send out notices of, thus informing all proper and appropriate sources of information dissemination in pureblood society - and I wasn't about to let Bellatrix do any such thing, as that would turn our little ruse into an official arrangement rather than something we'd just told the wards to bypass the security features.

I wasn't expecting this to last in any case. I was just here to get my hands on those semi-secret LeStrange family spells so I could learn how to reverse them. But I needn't have worried, once she'd shown me in to the hidden vault on the family property where they kept such things (a place warded so no female could ever enter) I found a book which not only contained the horrid and criminal pleasure/pain reversal spell, but one for its removal as well - it turned out that even the sick man who'd developed it had recommended that it only be in place for a few hours, at most.

Any long term use could warp the mind. Well, duh!

I cast the removal spell on her and Bella's expression went from a slightly demented triumphal leer of 'I'm so superior' that was her typical expression before this to a distinctly unhappy green.

Ah! Her own lingering pain from Azkaban and who knew what else had been sustaining her, I'd guess. Now she was forced to deal with that as it should be instead of cherishing what remained of it.

Dang! This situation was really screwed up, you know that?

I'd had more than a bit of that experience myself, so could sympathize. I had now, in my little head, a collection of memories quite unusual for my age and situation. And, well, some of those people hadn't been ... what was the word I was looking for? Ah. Let's just state it delicately and say they did not follow my own, rather strict, moral code. Several things they'd been quite proud of I found myself completely disgusted by.

And the change from 'cherished' to 'disgusting' memory was not a pleasant one. Nor, I suspected, was it going to be easy for Bella, who'd accumulated quite a collection of acts she was no longer wired to appreciate.

No, as I watched her grow steadily more green, then break down and start sobbing on the floor, I realized that the level of remorse could quite easily kill her. No one could look at her past deeds with any pride if they had any sort of conscience whatsoever - and now she, who felt and thus recorded the feelings of others to an extent, was being forced not only to face her own guilt but to experience the pain she'd caused as well.

Every recent memory she'd once cherished, everything since entering the service of Voldemort, all of her reveling in the pain and suffering of others, was now tearing her apart like so many spiritual knives.

No, looking at her break down before me I realized this truly was going to kill her. There was no way that she could bear it. With all of her former sources of greatest strength turned against her, she was doomed.

Pity. I needed her.

An Obliviate spell later and she could function, but it could only reach her mind, not the injuries she'd done to her soul, and Bellatrix would be dealing with those wounds she'd dealt to others for a very long time to come.

Perhaps not in her waking moments, during those she'd probably be able to shove it aside to feel a mere unease. However, I rather expected that during her nightmares she was going to be suffering the pains of a damned soul in hell - and I meant that quite literally.

True remorse of conscience inflicted an agony like no other.

I believed, in that moment, that she was still going to die. Well, except... yah, I knew the remedy myself, had used it on many occasions. I pulled out my set of scriptures and commanded her to read them.

We'd be discussing them as she read.

Religion was the only true medicine for a wounded soul, and the atonement of Christ served exactly the purpose this person needed. By paying the penalty for all our sins, Christ had become the Redeemer, and though her sins be as scarlet, yet they could be made as white as snow through the blood of the Lamb of God.

But really, the atonement, being infinite and eternal, was sufficient for all who came unto Christ with full purpose of heart. It would be enough if only she chose to embrace Him. Otherwise, well, there was no other way to save her. It was all up to her now, and her future choices.

I had felt myself the healing power of the atonement and would be bearing testimony to the cleansing it gave during the coming week. And, by doing so, I would recover from my madness far more than my own efforts might have achieved on their own.

So, we returned to my penthouse (a far less dark and miserable environment than the ancient home of the twisted, black-souled LeStranges) and devoted ourselves that week to trying to recover my mind and teaching Bellatrix true religion, pure and undefiled.

In between boughts of scripture study I reviewed my own memories in the pensieve and kept up with my more public duties: going out on public speaking tours, photo shoots and book signings, which did assist in reestablishing a firm grounding for at least the Lockhart side of me, and since the Lockhart bits were just an extension pack to my own true self, by the end of the week I was almost back to functioning at a normal level, no longer tempted to run off charging through arctic wilds naked or swing through Paris on web strands doing a Spider Man impression.

No, by the end of that week I'd managed to beat back the madness to almost normal levels, though I still had some bit of trouble getting my collected series of assorted quirks under control in private moments.

Bellatrix had, during this time, embraced my faith with all of the earnestness of an eager convert, much like someone on fire might embrace being put out - and believe me, the pain of guilt of that level of extremity was worse than any fire. Mere torment of the body could not compare to spiritual agony.

I had, naturally enough, during this process abandoned any plans I had to kill her as no longer necessary or desirable. She was repenting, a process that changed who she was inside more effectively than Obliviation or indeed anything else could arrange.

Indeed, we were fast becoming friends as she did so. And she was punishing herself for her sins more effectively than I ever could. Prisons by and large didn't work to reform criminals, but this was exactly that change they sought. So, if God was willing to forgive her enough to take away her guilt, which He was doing by degrees, I was willing to call her slate cleared and not do or contemplate any other injury to her.

Of course that meant modifying my plans.

Nor was Bellatrix' change of heart alone in causing my plans to change to better suit altered circumstances. The papers had finally revealed something that Minister Fudge had practically been turning himself inside out to conceal, namely my attack on Azkaban prison and the mass slaughter of dementors and convicts there.

For four days now the Daily Prophet had been screaming for investigations into the Malfoy Manor Massacre. Ever since Narcissa had been stonewalled by an attempted Ministry cover-up (Fudge fearing that any investigation at all would reveal his ties to those Death Eaters, including some who had been financing him) she'd gone to the press.

Now, with the Azkaban attack revealed by some Aurors who'd become sick of the administration's attempts to protect itself from public revulsion over its own well deserved reputation for incompetence. So, since they'd spoken out about that mass attack as well, the magical public was screaming for Fudge to be removed from office.

Well and good. If that happened I might have to drop my nebulous plans to do the removing myself.

On that thought I'd prepared a speech to give saying how shocked, shocked I tell you, I was at out present Minister's incompetence for the role!

Okay, the man had given me four Orders of Merlin, First Class (meaning I now had five Orders of Merlin, if you wanted to count the third class the original Lockhart had gotten), the latest for my recent discovery of a technique for 'Taming' werewolves - ie, blowing the animal minds of their wolf sides down to nothing via Obliviation, then treating the patient with a dose of Wolvesbane so the human side could gain control of the beast form, and having once had control of the transformed state, learn to do so without the potion.

Remus had been quite vocal in his praises for me, and not even the recent scandal at the Ministry over those attacks had quite pushed me off the front page, as everyone wanted to speculate on what their world would be like now that werewolves could be cured - if not of the transformations (though those hurt less, I am told), then of their beastly, animal natures.

The dangerous parts, in other words.

New legislation I'd suggested was already coming to a vote to distinguish a tame werewolf from a feral one, with all of the prejudice and discrimination formerly on the law books directed only to feral werewolves, and the tame ones, while not QUITE treated as ordinary members of society, then at least as second rate people instead of vermin.

That legal change was already drawing werewolves out of the Forbidden Forest and other places to get tamed in anticipation, and everyone was a bit shocked at their numbers.

And what was Albus doing hiding his own werewolf colony so near to a school anyway? Was there anything dangerous, deadly or harmful to children he did NOT keep in or near that place?

What was he thinking?

Oh.

The numbers of werewolves were revealed to be so extremely high that any soul who could've organized them could not only have taken over the magical world, they might've had a good go at conquering muggle Britain as well. And, as their patron saint, the man who 'protected' them, Albus had that level of influence over the werewolves. He could easily have been subtly working to increase their numbers over the years.

In particular, by sending children into the Forbidden Forest on detentions at night, a place where werewolves were known to roam.

I had been shocked that evil manipulative Albus was actually canon. Rowling had stated as much outright in her last book. "Albus learned secrets and lies at his mother's knee, and turned out to be a natural." - stated by his own BROTHER, no less!

But his behavior was certainly bearing that out here.

Best friends with Grindewald indeed, taught him much of what he used to take over magical Europe, then resisted pleas to take him on for five bloody years of carnage and chaos.

No, the Dark Lord Dumbledore, it seemed, differed from Voldemort and his friend Grindewald only in that he'd been successful in taking over the magical world, and he'd done so in such a way as to make everyone glad he'd done it.

I guess that showed better than anything the difference between charm and terror. Tom Riddle had started with charm, only to switch to terror and get destroyed, while Albus had stuck with charm and gotten control of magical society handed to him by people eager to see him in charge.

I'd guess, taken from that perspective, the last few wizarding wars were just about Albus putting down rivals.

Oh.

No wonder he'd never taught Harry anything! It seemed he'd had enough of former students trying to rise against him. Harry had powerful gifts and the old man didn't want to bother putting down another rival!

That thought put everything in another perspective.

Actually, that put a more than somewhat scary spin to my own situation! He had seen to it that not only did Harry not learn anything important, but that he'd been regularly beaten, abused, starved and brutalized with Albus always appearing as a savior to draw him away from the very situations he himself had created! All of that just to neuter a potential rival.

Well, then what would he think of me?

I was now more popular than Dumbledore was, riding high on my latest few triumphs of public opinion. And Harry and my latest book concerning the poor boy's tragic childhood, all arranged by Dumbledore, was going to be coming out in stores in the next few days!

We would, with a single book, do more damage to Dumbledore's real power base, his reputation as a saint and savior, than all of his latest rivals combined. What would that man be willing to do to shut me up then?

He'd as much as tossed Sirius into Azkaban personally, all just because the man was official guardian to a child Albus wanted to control and destroy. In light of the Imperious spell I couldn't see how ANYONE could be denied a trial no matter how many people 'knew' he did something! Sure! You did it! But was it your idea or were you under a control spell?

Yet I wouldn't be at all surprised if it had been Albus whispering in the ear of Barty Crouch Sr. to give him the idea to deny Sirius any chance to defend his actions and prove his case in court.

As far as heartless manipulations go, the man was beginning to seem like a smiling, grey haired Gendo Ikari. One who wore robes.

And that didn't spell any good for anyone he deemed an opponent. Because Albus really was powerful, while I..?

Well, if I seemed powerful, it was simply that I bore a certain resemblance to the Madwand (a magical character in a series of books that was swapped for a technological child by a wizard, then had to return to his magical world when the changeling techman became an absolute menace there).

Simply put, I didn't fall into the same old mindset.

ANYONE in Rowling's world could do the things I did... but they didn't, as they were not logical and had ingrained patterns of activity.

The magical World was VERY medieval under the surface trappings, and that included keeping a very strong status quo. Something to keep in mind was that in the Dark Ages in Europe, discovery and scientific exploration were not just frowned on, but considered diabolism.

I was, simply put, traveling the road not taken. Therein lay all the difference.

But Dumbledore? That man had all of the power it was possible to get under the traditional approach to magic. He truly was formidable, playing with Tom Riddle instead of destroying him, so good at shadowy manipulation that he wasn't discovered until after his death, and ultimately overconfident to the point of being amused by most threats.

But above all a very, very good actor, one who could kill someone openly and make his victim believe it was 'for his own good.'

I didn't imagine I could take such a man on and emerge anything but a broken, wasted shell of my past self.

But, also, if he chose to see me as a rival... I'd have to try.

On that note, I decided to go on over to visit Grindewald in that prison he'd built with Albus' favorite motto over the door, just to get the inside scoop on Dumbledore's childhood relationship with him so I could publish more dirt on the man to get him into more trouble now, while he was still a stationary target. However, at that moment a desperate knock came at my door, so I got up and answered it in equal haste, after shoving Bellatrix into a closet.

The Granger family were all there, clutching belongings to their chests and looking as desperate as shipwreck victims.

I invited them inside at once, noting with a sinking feeling that Ted was not among them. What was it? A car accident? No, the truth, I was to find, was far worse.

Miranda was in tears. Not just a little bit, but they kept flowing non-stop. Her daughters fared somewhat worse, and they all huddled together in a little ball of misery, wailing on my sofa to which they'd dragged me as if I were their lifeline. It was Harry who, miserable though he was, came through with an explanation. And it was not a pretty one.

They'd had another argument (this time about giving the kids 'The Talk' of all things) and the blow up had been severe on Ted's part.

It was sad to see Ted's reactions to the magicification of his family, but it is a fact of the real world, that some people do not adjust well to significant changes in the people around them (especially family).

Poor Ted. He shouldn't let stress and control issues get in the way like that.

But that was my last sympathetic thought for him, perhaps ever, as I learned from the sobbing bundles of pain he'd once called family that Ted had apparently activated a prenuptial agreement - one where he kept everything, the house, the car, all of their bank accounts, even the dental partnership he and his wife had built together.

Everything. He could even have kept the kids, but chose not to. Apparently, due to the Raiders of the Lost Ark just having finished filming in the week that I'd spent locked up regaining my marbles, Ted had received a very lucrative and flattering offer to star in a remake of Lawrence of Arabia, and had decided to start his life over, unencumbered by his former family.

This was, understandably, a harsh reaction for them all to take. Instant care and concern was called for, which I instantly provided, though the details of which make for boring reading, as it amounts to soothing words and touches as you might use to calm a child woken by nightmares.

Intermixed with a few hard nuggets of real calamitous facts.

"We have no place to live!" Miranda sobbed, her tears uncontrollable.

Well, I wasn't going to let THAT stand! "Well, you're all welcome to stay with me as long as you like, of course! Miranda and the girls can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the sofa. Dora can return to sleeping with her parents, while Harry can have the guest bedroom once again."

I got interrupted by a wail of misery from Miranda, although it was rather hard for me to reach over and comfort her, seeing as how I'd somehow been buried under a combination of Hermione and Moria seeking hugs and thereby pinned to the couch.

"I don't even have a family name anymore!" she wailed.

"Well, Lockhart is available. And you're all welcome to use it if you like," I returned, determined not to leave any wound untended or problem unfixed. "Although Potter would be another excellent choice. Actually, I can think of a catalog of families that would love to take you on. Black and Lupin and even the Weasleys all come to mind. No, there's no shortage of those, and you can take your pick when the time is right. So, no worries there!"

The day descended into evening with nothing more established or done but the tending to raw emotional wounds. Toward the end of it I was feeling some measure of both exhaustion and stress.

I had a nervous habit, a quirk if you will. When I am feeling nervous or stressed, which hadn't truly happened on this trip up until now, I had a tendency to... well, I just happened to...

Sigh.

Okay, when I'm feeling pushed up against my limits I have a habit of reciting the Dragon Slave spell.

After putting all of the Grangers, or former Grangers, I should say, to bed but before anyone drifted off to sleep (too miserable to, I'd guess) I stood with my arms full of blankets in the living room, looking out over the city through the big, plate glass windows on the balcony, when my nervous habit kicked in and I just started chanting under my breath.

"Darkness beyond the twilight..."

However, unlike all of the OTHER times I had done this, I immediately felt a rush of power and saw myself surrounded by a effervescent rainbow glow swirling up around me.

It was at that moment that I realized that I was at the center of one of the most populated cities on Earth, and if the special effects were any indication I'd just started a spell that was the equivalent of a tactical nuclear weapon - with no place to safely point it!

With horror I found myself unable to halt my recitation.

"Crimson beyond blood that flows..."