Stroking Faded Embers

She always came here when she needed to simply escape. Whether it was from life she led as a Quidditch player, the presence of her husband, or as a teen when she needed some time away from her parents, Rosa inevitably found herself visiting her godmother.

Rosalina Nott, the woman she had been named after, had been one of those constants from the moment she had been born, a second mother even, and Rosa had always sought solace with her when it was most needed.

"So, it really is over between you and Julian?"

Rosa nodded as she accepted the offered mug of tea.

Rosalina sighed as she took a seat.

"Dad seems to be happy about it. He never liked Julian."

"I doubt he is happy, Rosa," Rosalina chided lightly. "Your father has only ever wanted you to be happy."

Rosa smiled sadly, feeling guilty for the unwarranted barb.

"I know," she murmured taking a sip of her drink.

"How are you after what happened at the match?"

Rosa shrugged and swallowed deeply.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I'd always heard about how formidable Dad is, but I've never seen him like that."

"Hard times create hard men," Rosalina replied. "If it wasn't for your dad…"

"Grindelwald would have won?" Rosa huffed.

"Yes," Rosalina said firmly. "Your father did not fight in that war for glory, or to prove that he was better than Grindelwald. He did it because it was the right thing to do, and he, and maybe Dumbledore were the only two wizards who could beat him."

"It was just strange seeing him like that. He was just, so angry."

"He does have quite the temper on him when provoked," Rosalina agreed, "but he always has the best of intentions. It's understandable with everything he has endured, even as a baby."

"A baby?"

Rosalina looked at her in confusion.

"Do you not know what happened to your grandparents on your father's side?"

Rosa shook her head.

"I remember asking mother about it when I was young, but she wouldn't tell me. I never asked after that."

Rosalina nodded her understanding.

"They were murdered I front of your father when he was a little over a year old," she explained, much to the shock of Rosa. "I think that is one of the reasons why he is the way he is. He does not wish for anyone to have the childhood he had."

"That makes sense," Rosa mused aloud. "What was he like when he came to Hogwarts for his first year?"

Rosalina frowned.

"Your father didn't arrive until the beginning of fifth year. I don't know what he did before that, but he immediately made an impression. He was talented, more talented than any other student I had ever come across. That is why I apprenticed him. The plan was for him to enter the duelling circuit when he graduated, but he chose to become a hit-wizard. I won't pretend I wasn't disappointed, but it suited him."

"What was he like when you first met him?"

Rosalina fell silent for a moment as she pondered the question.

"Quiet," she replied thoughtfully. "It was as though something was haunting him, that he expected to be attacked at any given moment. He wasn't wrong really, not with how much attention the Slytherins paid to him."

"What happened?"

Rosalina snorted.

"There was an incident where a group of them attempted to attack your father in the corridor. He put four of them in the hospital wing with some rather unpleasant injuries. He was very much left alone after that. It's not surprising really, he was only sixteen when he first got the better of me in a duel. I haven't beaten him since."

"Sixteen?"

Rosalina nodded, an amused grin tugging at her lips.

"He was very gifted," she reiterated. "Anyway, your father is not a bad man. He is the best that I have ever known, and none who do know him will tell you any differently. You're not to tell him I said that," she added warningly. "I wouldn't see his head swell."

Rosa chuckled.

"I won't say a word."

Rosalina nodded satisfactorily and the two fell silent for a few moments whilst they sipped their tea.

"So, what will you do about Julian?"

"I don't know, Rosie," Rosa sighed. "Our marriage is definitely over. Jack got my things yesterday, and Julian wrote to me. He was just so horrible."

"You didn't let your father see the letter, did you?"

"No, I'm not that stupid," Rosa replied with a smirk. "He'd probably gut Julian if he knew what he'd said."

"What did he say?"

Rosa shrugged once more as she stared into her empty cup.

"Just that I'd wasted his time, that I led him on and that he should never have married someone he could never make happy."

"I'll gut the little shit myself!" Rosalina growled.

Rosa shook her head.

"He's not worth it," she said tiredly, "and he's right, I suppose. With the kind of men I grew up around, his insecurity was always going to get in the way."

Rosalina offered her a sympathetic smile.

"Will you stay with your parents?"

"What choice do I have?" Rosa muttered. "After what happened at the Quidditch match, dad barely lets me out of his sight."

"Only because he is worried about you," Rosalina pointed out. "I suppose your mother is fussing over you?"

"Sometimes I wish she was more like how she is at Hogwarts. You know, the scary woman that the students are afraid of."

"You never were," Rosalina pointed out.

"Only because I know what she is really like," Rosa said fondly. "No, it's nice to be home. At least I feel wanted there, and it's nice to see Jack more, even if he is as bad as dad."

"He's protective," Rosalina acknowledged. "He is your father's only son, and he feels that it is his duty to look out for his sisters. He's a good man."

"Why isn't he married then?"

"Maybe he isn't ready to accept another woman in his life yet," Rosa replied. "He does have you, your sisters, your mother, and grandmother."

"True," Rosa conceded. "He is always round there looking after them, especially now grandad can't walk much."

"He was the first muggle I spoke to," Rosalina revealed. "Your grandfather told me all about his God. I must visit him."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate it," Rosa replied warmly. "Mum is there most days, and dad is there every morning. They will be inconsolable when anything happens to him."

"He is a muggle," Rosalina pointed out. "They age much faster than we do."

"I know," Rosa sighed. "What do you think dad will do about the Quidditch match?"

Rosalina's expression darkened.

"I would expect that we will soon see The Serpent coming out of retirement," she said darkly. "Your father will not take what happened lightly, and he will feel compelled to act before any more attempts are made."

"That's what I was afraid of," Rosa murmured.

(Break)

Bella waited with James in one of the rooms just off the Entrance Hall for the arrival of her parents and the Potters. After what had happened during the Quidditch match, they had insisted upon seeing their children.

Harry was standing in one of the corners, as cool and collected as ever, as though nothing had happened, but Bella would never forget what she had seen, and how her godfather had reacted.

Hearing of his prowess and ferocity with a wand growing up was something that could be easily dismissed or put down to exaggeration by the those who looked up to the man, but witnessing it first-hand, Bella had learned that what she believed could be boasting simply wasn't.

Harry Evans was indeed a formidable man, though his brilliance did not take anything away from the fact that he had put his life on the line to keep her, James, and everybody else in the stadium as safe as he could.

Bella shuddered at the memory of Harry removing a man's head with a searing chain as casually as though he'd cast a stunning spell.

"Bella!"

Her mother's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and Bella found herself being swept into the woman's arms.

"Are you okay, you weren't hurt, were you?"

"I'm fine," Bella assured her mother. "Harry was with me."

Druella smiled as she nodded, and although Bella was okay, she suddenly felt very emotional, as though everything that had happened was coming back to haunt her.

"She's just in shock," Harry said as he approached and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "She wasn't hurt."

Bella clung to the man as she cried uncontrollably, chastising herself for the delayed reaction.

"Thanks, Evans," Cygnus said gratefully, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "I always knew I made the right choice asking you to be her godfather."

"Speaking of which," Harry replied pointedly. "There is something we need to discuss."

Cygnus frowned questioningly.

"Now," Harry insisted.

Bella watched as the two men walked to the other side of the room.

"What is that about?" Druella murmured.

"I think dad wants me to marry Rudolphus Lestrange," Bella explained.

"Over my dead body," her mother declared.

"Harry promised I wouldn't have to."

"Then it won't be happening," Druella assured her. "Are you sure you okay?"

Bella nodded.

She was, but just a little shaken up from the ordeal.

"Everyone is talking about him," she whispered, nodding towards Harry. "Saying that he's a hero."

Druella smirked at her daughter.

"They did the same during the war with Grindelwald," she explained. "Harry earned everything he has achieved."

Bella nodded her understanding.

"He's really special, isn't he?"

Druella nodded, offering Dorea and Charlus a wave as they entered the room.

"He is," she answered. "Not just because of the big things he does, but because of the kind of man he is. Even after he became famous, he agreed to help me with my NEWTs. You remember that, I'm sure."

"When I first met him," Bella confirmed. "I always felt safe with him, even yesterday."

"You have quite the special bond, Bella. You're just as much his child as you are ours."

Bella could only smile as Harry looked over to check on her, and she immediately felt better, that no matter what happened, she would always have him to protect her.

(Break)

"Is something wrong?" Cygnus asked confusedly as Harry led him away from the others.

"According to Bella, Rudolphus Lestrange has declared that the two of them are to be married," Harry replied, folding his arms in displeasure.

Cygnus sputtered as he shook his head.

"Corvus and I have been negotiating, but nothing has been agreed," he defended.

"And it won't be," Harry said firmly.

Cygnus looked at him questioningly.

"The Lestranges are a good match," he explained.

Harry held up a hand to silence the man.

"The Lestranges are involved with Voldemort," Harry countered. "Bella will not be marrying into that family, and that is my final word on the matter. You can either tell Lestrange yourself, or I will gladly do it."

Cygnus appeared to be offended but deflated as he nodded.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly. "I won't entertain the idea any further."

"Good," Harry replied cheerily. "Bloody hell, Cyg, you're a Black, you don't need to bend over backwards for anyone."

"Except you?" the man snorted.

Harry grinned.

"Only where my goddaughter is concerned. You asked me to look after her, and this is me doing that. Lestrange is nothing and being associated with him will do you no good. I'll tell you what, why don't Minerva and I take you and Druella out for dinner this weekend? That will remind everyone, and you, just how much higher in the standings you are."

Cygnus smiled and nodded his agreement immediately.

"We'd love to."

"Good, now no more of talks about marrying Bella off," Harry urged. "Bloody hell, I already feel old enough, she's the last one I have that keeps me feeling young."

"What about James?"

Harry's gaze shifted to the boy who was talking to Charlus and Dorea.

"He makes me feel older," he said, more to himself than the others. "Go on, make sure she is okay."

Cygnus did so, and Harry approached the Potters.

Immediately, Dorea pulled him into a hug and thanked him for what he had done.

Charlus, however, merely offered him a nod.

The two men understood each other better than any, and without question, Charlus would have done the same for Jack if it had ever been needed.

"How are you, James?" Harry asked.

The boy shrugged.

"Can you teach me how to do the chain spell?"

Charlus rolled his eyes, and Harry shook his head.

"Not until you're older," he sighed. "I've only just taught Bella that one."

James's eyes lit up excitedly, and Dorea scowled at Harry.

Despite the family she came from, she did not want James learning such magic, though she would perhaps change her mind after what had happened.

"Come on, off to your lesson," Harry instructed. "I'll see you for your next one."

James nodded and hugged his parents a final time before leaving.

Harry watched him with a fond smile.

"That boy will be trouble," Charlus chuckled, echoing the same words he had spoken several times over the years.

Harry simply hummed in response and Charlus lowered his voice as he pulled Harry away.

"The responses have been coming in from the lads," he murmured. "They're ready to go to war for you if needed. Whenever you're ready, say the word and we will make it happen."

Harry nodded appreciatively.

"Thanks, Charlus," he replied. "I don't when it will be, but I don't plan on waiting."

"What does that mean?"

Harry said nothing but offered the man a collusive smirk as he left the room.

There really was quite the advantage to knowing just who was supporting Voldemort, they just didn't know that Harry knew.

(Break)

James did not rush to make it to the dungeons for the remainder of his potions lesson. Slughorn wasn't so bad, but James already knew the subject would not be him.

His slow pace and a little luck meant that he arrived as his classmates were exiting, and he fell into step with Sirius, Peter, and Remus as they headed towards their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"Are you alright, Remus, you're looking a little pale?" James observed as he looked at the boy.

"I'm fine, just tired," his friend replied irritably.

Sirius gave James a subtle shake of the head, and he dropped the subject.

"Evans next," Peter said excitedly. "What did your parents say?"

"Not much," James replied with a shrug. "I was with Harry, so they weren't that worried."

"It must be cool to have him as a godfather," Peter snorted. "Did you see the photos?"

The Daily Prophet had plastered the story of what had happened at the Quidditch match across the front page, and the pictures of Harry destroying a section of the stadium as he tried to goad Voldemort into a fight had been the main feature.

"I wouldn't get on the wrong side of him," Remus muttered.

"Selwyn found that out the hard way," Sirius added. "Serves the git right for supporting Grindelwald and Voldemort."

Selwyn's head had been found by one of the aurors, and another that had not been named had been taken into custody.

"Did Professor Evans really kill that man?" Lily asked as she caught up to them with Marlene in tow.

James nodded soberly.

"Tore his head clean off his shoulders," he explained. "The whole stadium shook when he blew that part of it up."

"Can't all wizards do that when they get older?" Lily asked.

James and Sirius both laughed amusedly.

"No," James answered. "It takes a very powerful wizard to do something like that."

They fell silent as they entered the defence room to find Harry leaning against his desk with his wand drawn.

"Today will be a practical lesson," he announced, sweeping the tables aside.

The students said nothing, all of them fixated on the man, staring at him as though they were truly seeing him for the first time.

"What is it?" Harry huffed when he noticed.

The Slytherins all began nudging each other until Snape raised his hand.

"Why did you kill Lord Selwyn?" he asked.

"Because Lord Selwyn, along with the other cowards that have chosen to follow Voldemort were murdering people who wanted nothing more than to watch a Quidditch match. Sometimes, we must fight fire with fire, or we will be burned to ashes. Now, ready yourselves. Today we will be working on identifying minor curses."

James removed his wand and shared a look with the others.

He had never seen Harry angry, but yesterday he had, and there wasn't any way of forgetting that, nor the photos the newspaper had printed.

Still, he understood why he had done what he did.

If Harry hadn't acted, many others would have died, and wizarding Britain would be mourning more than they already were.

(Break)

Harry had spent much of his day answering questions from students, but he had remained firm in his stance. For some, it was quite the reality check, and many of the older Slytherin students in particular had been rather subdued.

Whether or not they were already being groomed to join the pureblood movement when they graduated, Harry knew not, but what had occurred during the Quidditch match may make some of them think twice, especially if they knew that death was a possibility for them.

Selwyn was not a man many would miss; his reputation having declined significantly since his actions pertaining to the marriage contract between Charlus and Dorea had become known.

The man had died as foolishly as he'd lived.

What Tom and his followers had hoped to achieve with their attack was anyone's guess, but it certainly had not been the outcome the Dark Lord had hoped for.

Harry had forced him to flee with his tail tucked between his legs with little more than a bruised ego.

Now, however, it was time to deal with the fallout, and as he approached the Wizengamot chambers, Harry prepared himself to defend his actions.

Regardless of his high standing, there would be those that were displeased by what he had done, but Harry didn't care.

He would remain steadfast in his approach and would not be deterred.

The chamber fell silent as he entered and he took his seat, his gaze boring into those he knew were supporting Tom.

None held it for long, choosing to look away and Harry snorted to himself.

It was hard to believe that he had once feared many of them.

A tired Minister Jenkins tapped her podium with her gavel to begin the meeting and released a deep sigh as she shuffled the stack of parchment before her.

"There is much for us to discuss," she began darkly. "Firstly, we will address what happened at the Holyhead Quidditch stadium. As I'm sure you will know, Lord Selwyn was killed, and we currently have Amycus Carrow under armed guard in St Mungo's. He is receiving treatment for an amputated arm and is expected to recover."

Harry recognised the name as two of Voldemort's followers that had escaped Azkaban during his fifth year, before he had unwittingly found himself sent here.

"Eighteen members of the crowd died…"

"Were murdered in cold blood," Harry corrected sharply, eliciting murmurs of agreement from the likes of Doge and Lord Bones.

The Minister nodded awkwardly.

"Thank you, Baron Evans," she sighed. "In light of what has happened, the Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games has decided that the remainder of the Quidditch season will be postponed until further notice."

The uproar at the statement came from both sides of the room, none pleased by the decision.

"ENOUGH!" Jenkins snapped angrily. "The Ministry is not willing to risk any further loss of life whilst this Voldemort remains at large."

"Then ask them where he is!" Lord Bones instructed, pointing an accusive finger towards the traditionalist lords and ladies.

"I do hope that you are not accusing us without proof, Bones," Abraxus Malfoy replied heatedly.

"Well, Selwyn and Carrow are from your lot."

"Lord Selwyn has been living in exile for decades," Abraxus pointed out, "and Lord Carrow can hardly be blamed for the actions of his son."

Malfoy was right, but he was swaying no one from what they already knew.

"What about Evans?" Lord Lestrange called. "He murdered Selwyn and destroyed a large section of a prized stadium."

Harry stood as the lords surrounding Lestrange chirped their agreement.

"What does Selwyn's death have to do with anything?" he asked, addressing the room at large. "If you are not one of Riddle's followers, then why are you so concerned about the fate of those that are? Am I the only one that believes that a snivelling bunch of cowards hiding behind masks and attacking innocent people is a problem that must be dealt with?"

Some of the lords muttered, but Harry couldn't hear what was said.

"I did not spend years on the continent fighting against Grindelwald to keep everyone here safe so that a jumped-up little shit like Tom Riddle could gather a following of other cowards to attack people from beneath masks. If anyone has a problem with me killing Selwyn, then speak up."

None did so and Harry shook his head.

"I have done nothing but protect this country at the risk of my life, and I will continue to do so against any threat, whether it is outside these borders or within. I couldn't give a toss who is lurking behind those masks, you don't just get to attack people."

"Neither do you!" Lestrange called and Harry raised an eyebrow at the man.

"When have I attacked anyone, Lestrange?" he asked lightly. "The only people I attacked was those that decided to do the same to innocent Quidditch spectators. If you have a problem with that, then you are more than welcome to take it up with me in any way you please, and as for the damage to the stadium, I have already assured the owners that I will pay for it. Now, does anyone else have anymore asinine questions to ask or accusations they want to level at me?"

When no one spoke, Harry retook his seat and nodded for Jenkins to continue.

"Thank you, Baron Evans," she acknowledged before retrieving another piece of parchment from her pile. "I met with Barty this morning and we discussed the legislation he has been drawing up. Barty, would you like to explain your progress."

The man nodded stiffly and took Jenkins' place as she sat.

"Having discussed the matter with several senior aurors, and other heads of departments that it will affect, I have concluded that implementing an all-encompassing law that will grant the aurors the authority to use lethal force in any scenario will require much work, and the rescinding of several other laws already in place," he began irritably. "In truth, it would take months, maybe years to see it done. The aurors simply cannot be granted these powers under our current laws as decreed by several pieces of legislation passed throughout the past few centuries."

Many of the lords and ladies were displeased by the explanation, but many others were undoubtedly happy, though they hid it well.

"So, our aurors are powerless to fight this threat?" Lord Macmillan asked.

Crouch nodded disappointedly.

"They are able to arrest and detain only, unless we go through the arduous process of changing several integral pieces of legislation."

"Surely we can put in place a law that bypasses the others."

Crouch shook his head.

"To do so would contradict many of them, and any auror that is found to have used lethal force could face prosecution. I have documented these laws with an in-depth explanation that will be available for all of you to read for yourselves."

"So, we are powerless against this threat?" Charlus chuckled humourlessly. "We are expected to just let this keep happening?"

Crouch deflated as he nodded.

"For the time being."

"What about Evans? Does that mean he is unable to use lethal force if necessary?"

A ghost of a smirk tugged at Crouch's lips, almost as though he had hoped someone would ask the question.

"Baron Evans is not an auror," the man answered simply, shooting Harry a knowing look.

Those in the traditionalist section vocalised their displeasure.

"Then Evans' ability to do so should be rescinded under the same law that governs the aurors," Lord Malfoy demanded. "Why should he be allowed to kill indiscriminately?"

"Indiscriminately?" Crouch snorted when the protests ebbed away. "Baron Evans does not have carte blanche to simply kill who he wishes, but if someone is proven to be a threat to wizarding Britain it is his responsibility to nullify that threat. If that results in the death of a perpetrator, his actions will be scrutinised by the Wizengamot as per the code that governs his position. I would urge you all to refresh your memories of that."

Harry frowned thoughtfully as Crouch offered him a nod before taking his seat once more.

The man had essentially explained that the aurors were all but powerless to defeat Voldemort but had also pointed out that Harry did not fall under the same laws.

Crouch wanted Harry to know that, but also that the aurors would be of little help when it mattered.

With Voldemort's tactics, the aurors would indeed be powerless other than their ability to apprehend the Death Eaters.

For all intents and purposes, Harry was alone in this, but that meant little to him, not when he'd already been preparing for this eventuality.

With little more than a nod to Charlus, his mind was made up.

It was time to ensure he had the necessary reinforcements.

Tom and his followers may salivate at the castration of the aurors, but their celebrations would be short-lived.

Soon, they would have other enemies to deal, veterans of war that were not aurors and who would not shy away from showing them the error of following Lord Voldemort.

(Break)

The Dark Lord grinned as the news of what had transpired during the wizengamot gathering was relayed to him and leaned back in his chair smugly as he looked towards each of his followers.

Despite the meeting having gone mostly in their favour, he could almost smell the apprehension permeating from several of them.

"Why the fear?" he asked simply. "The aurors are all but powerless against us. Or is it another that has you so concerned?"

"Evans is still able to kill us," Lestrange spoke up lowly. "You saw what he did during the match."

"Something that will not happen again," Voldemort said firmly. "I do not know how he knew about your marks, but they will be adjusted accordingly."

"He is still a threat," Nott pointed out.

"He is only one man!" the Dark Lord snapped irritably.

Nott snorted.

"Do you not remember the previous war?" he questioned. "Evans killed hundreds if not thousands of men, creatures, and even Grindelwald by himself. If you think that he is not a threat to us and to you, then you are delusional."

Voldemort laughed.

"No one is a threat to me, Nott," he assured the man. "Look into my eyes and hear my words; I cannot be killed by any man, not even Harry Evans."

The Death Eaters muttered amongst themselves at the declaration, some looking at him in surprise at the conviction he spoke with.

"Now, do we simply quit when the going gets tough, or do we prove to all why it is the blood that flows through our veins that makes us superior to them?"

The men and women continued to murmur, and the Dark Lord stood abruptly.

"I have promised you all you could ever want, that the traditions this country was built on would be cemented in place. I have assured you that the growing mudblood influence will be curbed and that we will no longer have to hide like fearful rabbits from the muggles. Tell me if that is not worth fighting for because if it is not, then quit, return to your homes whilst your wealth, influence, and the names your forefathers fought so hard to establish are squandered by the changing world. My line is older than all of yours, and here I stand, willing to do what is necessary to keep our traditions alive. Are you wiling to do the same?"

Lestrange was the first to nod, followed by Malfoy as he too stood up to be counted.

Soon, every person in the room were upright, reaffirming their loyalty to the cause, and the Dark Lord smiled once more.

With the aurors unable to fight against them, they needed to only concern themselves with Evans, and even he could not be everywhere at once.

(Break)

"I cannot believe they've done this!" Rosa despaired as she read the headline of the evening edition of The Daily Prophet. "They can't just cancel the entire season!"

Her mother rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

"As much as I don't like it, Quidditch matches are too risky to host," she pointed out. "Securing an entire stadium is almost impossible."

Rosa nodded her understanding as she deflated.

Quidditch was the only thing keeping her distracted from the shambles of her marriage, and without it, she already felt lost.

"What will I do?" she asked.

Her mother released a deep breath.

"I don't know," she sighed. "You need to figure that out for yourself. You could always look into some coaching or speak with Albus. He'd be delighted for you to help out with the first year flying lessons. You're welcome to help me, and I'm sure your father wouldn't mind."

Rosa smiled at the thought.

She remembered the brief stint of teaching her father had done whilst she had been at school.

"Do you think he'd let me?"

Her mother frowned at her as she pursed her lips, the same look of disapproval she gave a student that had crossed her path for the wrong reasons.

"Is there something wrong with my lessons?"

Rosa shook her head.

"No," she denied, "but Dad's were everyone's favourite for a reason."

Her mother tutted.

"Your father always had a flair for the dramatics," she snorted amusedly. "For someone who spent so many years resisting Albus's attempts to have him there permanently, he certainly leaves quite the impression."

Rosa nodded her agreement.

Being taught by her parents had been odd, but she had adjusted to her mother quickly.

Her father's arrival, however, had taken some time, and in truth, he had gone again before she had gotten used to his presence in the castle.

She and her peers had missed him, particularly during their NEWT year.

"Well, now is your chance to ask him," her mother's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Her tone was waspish, but the woman was only teasing her.

"Really?" Rosa asked exasperatedly as her mother quickly cleared the distance between herself and her father and pressed her lips against his.

They had always been this way, even after so many years of marriage they never failed to look at each other as though they were lovesick puppies that had been apart for years.

Rosa frowned at the thought and smiled to herself at the realisation.

They had been separated for years.

Her parents knew what it was like to be away from one another, and because of that, they simply appreciated every moment they had.

It was rather sweet.

Disgusting, but sweet, nonetheless.

"I think our daughter has something she wishes to discuss with you," her mother said pointedly before finally releasing the man from her hold.

"Is that right?" her father asked as he joined Rosa at the table. "Are you going to finally let me pull Julian's bollocks off and…"

"Harry!" her mother said sharply, silencing her father.

Rosa snorted as the man muttered irritably under his breath.

"No, it's more important than that," she said as she slid the newspaper towards him.

He frowned as he read the headline.

"There's nothing I can do about this," he sighed. "It's not safe."

"I know," Rosa said comfortingly, not doubting for a moment that he wouldn't if he could. "With the season cancelled, I need something to keep me occupied. I can't just stay in the house all day, and Mum suggested that I become your assistant."

"Why not your mother's?" her father asked with a knowing smirk.

Rosa fought the urge to laugh as her mother visibly bristled and narrowed her eyes at the man behind his back.

"Because I'm asking you."

Her father nodded thoughtfully, and though there seemed to be a brief moment of doubt, he nodded.

"I'd love to have you help me."

"Really, you don't seem so sure?"

"I am," he assured her. "It will be nice to have you in the castle. I'll clear it with Albus."

"Thank you!" Rosa squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.

Her father laughed and shot her a beaming smile, though his expression shifted immediately as he removed a galleon from within his pocket.

"Harry?" Minerva questioned worriedly.

"It's fine," her father said dismissively, kissing the woman on the cheek. "I'll be back soon."

Rosa looked on confusedly as her father left the kitchen before turning towards her mother who had paled.

"I've not seen that coin for more than twenty-five years," she whispered in explanation.

"What does a coin have to do with anything?" Rosa asked.

Her mother swallowed deeply.

"It means that your father really is going to war again."

(Break)

Reg did not hesitate for a moment to answer the call when his coin alerted him, and he readied himself whilst waiting for the inevitable guest that would be joining him and Nancy shortly.

"What is it, Reg?" Nancy asked worriedly, noticing the shift in his demeanour.

"Harry needs me," he answered simply as the fireplace flared to life and Gilbert stepped out, an unusually grim expression marring his features.

"Harry?"

Reg nodded.

"He said that he might the day he gave us these," he explained, showing the coin to his wife. "Derek," he greeted one of his oldest friends.

"Come on, let's not keep him waiting," the other man urged. "Nancy," he said by way of farewell before muttering into the fireplace and vanishing.

"Reg, what is happening?" Nancy asked as her husband was about to follow suit.

"War," he replied simply before stepping into the flames.

He arrived in the Potter basement a moment later, the room having been expanded to accommodate the three or four hundred people that had come.

Among them, Reg saw many familiar faces, no longer as youthful as they had been back in the days they had fought against Grindelwald, but they were here, their loyalty to Harry as strong now as it had ever been.

They had not gathered this way since the Ministry had presented each of them with the piece of tin that merely signified they had survived the war. Something that meant nothing to most, but the brotherhood they had formed was something each still carried.

Reg took his place next to Charlus and Arcturus with Gilbert on his left, as it had always been.

"Does your wife know about this?" he asked the Potter lord.

Charlus snorted as he shook his head.

"No, she is visiting with Melania," he explained. "Quite the coincidence."

Arcturus chuckled conspiratorially as he nodded, a smirk of amusement quirking the corner of his lips.

The murmuring amongst the men died down as the fireplace flared into life once more and Harry stepped out.

He had always been amongst the youngest of those that had fought in the previous war, but he had somehow retained most of his youth.

His hair was as thick and dark as ever, his eyes alight with the same intensity, and his skin still smooth, unburdened by the wrinkles that plagued most others in attendance.

"How does he stay so young?" Gilbert grumbled enviously.

The man had lost most of his hair many years prior, and even Reg's own was thinner than it had been.

Harry paused as he took in the sight of his former comrades that had gathered before he stood where was most familiar to them, in front of the Potter and Black lords.

"Gentlemen," he greeted the room fondly.

"Commander," the men chorused in response and Harry shook his head irritably.

"It's been almost three decades," he sighed.

"Aye, and you're still a bastard," one of the men called, eliciting a bout of laughter from the rest.

Harry raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"I would have you running laps, but that just might finish you off, you old shit."

"Aye, it just might," the man agreed. "The old knees aren't what they used to be. Why are we here, Commander?"

Harry released a deep breath as his gaze swept over them.

"Voldemort."

The men began muttering amongst themselves once more, and Reg was treated to a string of expletives he had not heard in many years.

"So, we're coming together for one last crack then?" one of the men questioned.

Harry nodded.

"If you're up for it," he replied. "This isn't like before. The threat we face is here on our doorsteps. The Ministry won't do anything, so someone has to."

"That would be us then?" Gilbert sighed dramatically.

"Like I said," Harry called loudly. "We're not fighting for the ICW. None of you have to be here."

"Bollocks," was the stern reply he received. "We go where you go, Commander. If you say this bastard is a threat, then he's a threat, but like you said, this isn't like before. How do we know who the enemy is?"

"If they're wearing a white mask like at the quidditch match, they're your enemy," Charlus answered.

The men nodded.

"What about our families?" one asked concernedly. "If they know we are fighting them, won't they target our homes?"

"Probably," Harry agreed, "but why do they have to know who we are?"

Arcturus was the first to understand, laughing heartily as he nodded.

"We use their own tactics against them," he declared. "If they want to hide who they are, then we do the same. Let's see how they like it!"

"Exactly," Harry confirmed, sliding his wand into his hand, and drawing it across his face.

His head was shrouded with a white hood and his features hidden behind a black mask with the symbol he had conjured whenever he had attacked under the guise of The Serpent in a glowing white in the middle of the forehead.

It made for quite the sinister image, and Reg nodded his approval.

"If the aurors can't do anything about it, then we will," Harry declared. "There's still some fight in us yet."

The men cheered their approval as they too donned the mask, and in only a matter of moments the room full of veterans were once more a functioning fighting unit.

If Voldemort believed he had obtained a victory of sorts from the inability of the Ministry to act against him, he was sorely mistaken.

What he faced now would be much worse than any auror force; a group of men who had lived and breathed war and violence who were willing to do so again for the man that had led them to victory once before.