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Chapter 1: The Plan of the three 'A's

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Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, paranoid-skilled-insane Auror Supreme, had turned up at the Hog's Head pub for a chat with Abe, before going off to the Castle to meet Albus, Abe's brother. It was one of those rare idyllic times in the war, a very small lull before an oncoming storm. It was a rare luxury, and with the way things were, for Mad-Eye, it was even more so. The grizzled old Auror was no stranger to battle, torment, torture and such. He had lost the use of one leg, and now had to use a clawed wooden fake leg and a scary magical eye (even Mad-Eye was scared) to boot. He had experienced a lot.

Of the two Dumbledore brothers, Aberforth or Abe, as his friends knew him, was by Alastor's definition, a friend. An operative of the Order that Abe was, he did not really bother with the rules that his old coot of a brother had set. They had been ambushed during the War against Grindelwald, and the man had had Mad-Eye's back at a time when his motto of Constant Vigilance had failed him. One of the cross-trained Nazi/Grindelwald blokes had aimed the gun at the back of his head and he would have not lived had Abe not turned the head of that punk to pulp. That had been the point where a look of understanding had passed between the two warriors.

At the moment, Abe had a look on his face that suggested that someone was trying to sell him a pound of rotten hippogriff dung as a crate of the finest Firewhiskey money could buy.

"Albus in the house, I take it?" Alastor asked with whatever passed off as akin to mirth for him.

"Worse," replied Abe. "Albus is sequestered in a private room with a batty woman who was telling me that something momentous will happen in this bar tonight. "Something that will change the course of the war," she said," reported Abe in a very scratchy, put-on, terrible parody of a mystical voice.

"You are a pervert, aren't you Abe? If I never needed an image it was that one. What's gonna happen? Albus Dumbledore knocks her up, gets reinvigorated and battles of Volde – damn it, he has gone and put up a taboo – You-Know-Who to protect the love of his life and the unborn child?"

"Were it not for the fact that you did not give me your hip-flask to refill, I'd have wagered that you have been roaming around, a drunk raving lunatic. Not that I wouldn't like the idea of a new little Dumbledore – Merlin knows, we have had too little to celebrate – but you know that Albus is more likely to get knocked up than knock somebody up."

The two gnarled old wizards stared at each other, magical eye and all, before cracking up into peals of insane laughter at the mental picture of a heavily pregnant Albus Dumbledore. That was definitely a picture neither wanted to imagine, and now their brains wouldn't let go of it. It was well worth it, after all. They had precious little of anything to laugh about, so even the crudest, crassest humour would do. Albus Dumbledore became an unwitting receptacle of a very filthy joke he would never know about.

"What room is he in anyway?"

"Room 13," Abe replied primly.

"Couldn't have found a grimmer number," Moody muttered. He turned the magical eye to gaze in the direction of Room 13.

"Say Abe, you have got some basic first aid and privacy charms on the doors, don't you?"

"What?" Abe asked. He was flabbergasted. "I can't seriously believe Albus is getting up to such shenanigans at that age!"

"No, you've got me wrong," Mad-Eye said, as he casually disillusioned and deodorised himself and Abe and silenced their shoes and clothes. "The 'batty woman', as you called her, is spewing out what I am sure is an honest-to-Merlin prophecy, and we have got a Death Eater listening at the door."

Abe shot out of his seat towards the room, while Mad-Eye simply apparated to the end of the corridor soundlessly. "Stupid barman," he grumbled, "Doesn't know his arse from the beer-bottle." He sidled up towards where Severus Snape, Death Eater, Greasy Bat, and Potions Master extraordinaire was stood, listening on the conversation of elders like a naughty, errant child. He cast a listening charm at the door, and what he heard was something that froze his, Alastor Moody's blood in his veins.

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES...BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES ...AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT . . . AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES. . . . THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES. . . ."

Snape jerked beside him and crashed to the ground with a resounding 'thud'. Abe had stunned the poor sod. All of a sudden, the door swung open, as Albus Dumbledore, with a truly terrifying expression, thundered, "What is the meaning of this?"

He then saw the limp form of Severus Snape at his feet, and his friend and brother looking at the self-same form with identical grim expressions.

Albus opened his mouth to ask the routine identity questions when Alastor interrupted with a snarl, "Save it, Albus. You can ask me all the bloody questions once I am done giving you a thorough bollocking over not casting privacy charms, you old goat. The five year-old muggle sister and eighty year-old muggle grandmother of my latest recruit does better at secrecy and privacy than you do!" He then proceeded to shove both Snape and Dumbledore unceremoniously inside the room and entered, Abe following in his wake. Alastor calmly put up every single privacy spell on the room that he knew – and being as paranoid as he was, he knew too many. He then stunned Trelawney for good measure. Not that it made any difference of course, considering that she was still in the trance. Then they were subjected to Mad-Eye's tests of truth. Only when he was satisfied (and checked by Abe) did Mad-Eye proceed with the matters at hand.

"What are we going to do now?" Moody asked nobody in particular.

"Well we know of two children who are going to be born to order members at the end of July," replied Albus tentatively. "We should keep them under protections."

"Why?" asked Abe.

"What?"

"Why? Why would they need more protection than any other Order member?"

"What do you mean? When Tom comes to know about the Prophecy..."

"Why would he know about the Prophecy?" asked Abe again. "We are going to kill this shite-turd here and now!"

"But then who will fight Tom then?"

"Albus, you have never shown your age before! Are you mental?" growled Alastor. "You expect a kid to fight that abomination, after you deliberately leak the Prophecy to him?"

Abe's eyes widened in understanding and then narrowed in fury. He got up, and punched Albus on his nose, breaking it once again. "You are stupid, you old senile piece of shite! You want to control the kid as your weapon! I thought you would change, but you are just the same as you were at the age of nineteen!"

Alastor did not know what Abe was referring to, but whatever it was, caused Albus to pale considerably, even without his nose serving as the source for a river of blood.

"Alright, calm down, now," he ordered. He healed Albus, forced Abe down into his seat, and started again. "Albus, that is about the most heinous thing I have heard. And Abe, however much you want to beat Albus up, please calm down, or I will petrify you." Abe was still glaring at his brother murderously.

After about five minutes, when tempers had cooled down sufficiently, Albus sighed wearily and looked every bit his ninety four years of age. "Abe...thank you. I need to be reminded every now and then of the fact. I am just tired. I have fought one war too many..."

"And I am sorry for bringing that up," Abe responded stiffly.

"If your little family drama is done, we have still to decide what to do about this," he said grimacing at Snape.

"He will be called to Tom's side, Alastor. That mark is a Protean Charm."

"Then, we simulate death for him, for a few days. We shall then bring the Potters and Longbottoms on board. I have a plan," Alastor said grinning hideously.

Abe groaned. The last time they had followed Alastor's convoluted plan, they had polyjuiced as muggle women and gone to the bar where DEs were having a merry time, and joined them. The DEs had become completely pissed and the Alastor, Frank Longbottom, Benjy Fenwick and Abe had ended up arresting twelve DEs. But the thing that people still remembered was the four impersonating women – and very beautiful women at that.

Albus was all ears though. "I am listening."

"You are a master at Mind Magics, Albus. We will leak a Prophecy to You-Know-Who," he continued over Abe's murderous look, "not the Prophecy."

That elicited wry grins from the two Dumbledores.

"You mean to spring a trap."

"Exactly!" replied Mad-eye, glad that Albus had caught on to the plan very quickly. "For too long, Albus, we have been on the defensive. Now is the chance to end the war before we suffer any more losses. We kill that sick puppy on a day of our choosing if this goes right. Firstly, we find out who the spy is. Then we plant the proper parts of the plan into the brains of both this shite," (he illustrated his point by kicking Snape where it hurts...the most; of course the two other males winced hard at that), "and the spy, so that they lead him to where we want him to be. And we shouldn't bother to engage him in a fight. We put him down under very heavy anti-apparition wards, anti-portkey, anti-elf transport...you name it. Then we seal the place up, and blow it up with him inside; fair and simple."

"That is a very nice idea, Alastor; but there are a few glaring hitches. For one, I am pretty sure that Tom has delved into necromantic arts. So we cannot be sure that he will die, should we manage it. The second thing is that each real prophecy is recorded in the Department of Mysteries. And I am very sure that it too has been infiltrated."

"You don't worry about the second part. Leave that to me. I promise you that that matter will be dealt with. Do you have any particular suspicions?"

"Merlin! No. I don't even know who works there. But it is an important place as far as magical intelligence is concerned."

"Right you are! I'll deal with it."

"And the third..."

"There is a third?"

"Yes. Will the Potters and/or the Longbottoms consent to being the goat – sorry Abe – tied to the pole to bring in the quarry?"

"I have a way to convince them. Nothing ventured, nothing gained old boy."

"I have one thing to ask though, Alastor. What of the Prophecy, should we intervene this way?"

"Albus, you whiskered old fool, don't you see how open ended that Prophecy is? Which Dark Lord? Seventh month of which calendar is being referred to? What would marking as an equal mean? Does that mean that the kid who'd be marked will take this Dark Lord's Place? If we do not intervene, we set in motion a self-fulfilling prophecy. If nobody ever knows the real words, why would anyone care what it was, once the current Dork Lard is offed? Have you recently been shoving your head so far up your arse that you have to fart to breathe?"

Albus looked heavily offended at that, but Abe took over, "Nobody will bat an eyelid if you trap and destroy YKW. Do that by muggle means and we deal a blow to their beliefs to, Albus. Secondly, if we – and it is 'we' now, because we have heard and are involved – allow the prophecy to go through to fruition, some kid, if he survives, will be saddled with a responsibility he never asked for before he can even get out of his nappies. We are the adults here, Al. Why destroy a life when there is another plan to take advantage of this fortuitous occurrence?"

Albus stopped short at that. Why indeed, should he descend to destroying the life of a little child, still growing in his or her mother's womb? Why, instead of providing the child a safe haven to be born into, should he thrust the responsibility on its shoulders?

To sweeten the deal, Mad-Eye added, "If as you say, YKW is into necromancy, we can start training both children, and any other magical kids that we know will be born at the end of July. Instead of creating trouble for the Potters and Longbottoms, you could instead use their political power to enforce the necessary changes, Albus."

It appealed to Albus immensely. He was well aware of his advancing age, and this was a chance to leave a lasting legacy. Alastor and Aberforth could see the wheels churning in the old man's head. They were his friends, yes, but they also knew that he was at least a little bit vain.

"What to do with these two?" Abe asked, pointing at Snape and Trelawney.

"Dose him up with the Draught of Living Death and keep an antidote at hand. We need to reconstruct his memory of the night...maybe create a believable capture and escape story when he reports back to the old blighter. The 'batty woman' though..."

"I'll put her up in Hogwarts. Nobody else knows but us three, and Snape does not know who she is. She will be protected there."

"That makes sense. But I don't think much of your students, Albus – the elder ones, particularly. They could be reporting to their parents, or might be marked, themselves. The Prophet here will have to be kept a complete secret, at least as long as YKW is still around for the here and now."

"There are several passageways into Hogwarts. I know one that is in the Shrieking Shack and goes through the tunnel under the Willow. Once inside, I can apparate her to the currently unoccupied tower which was to serve as the Divination teacher's quarters."

"That works," Mad-Eye said, though he said it in a very strained manner.

Albus saw that both Abe and Alastor's mouths were twitching slightly. "What?" he asked.

"Just that I never thought that Alastor and I would be helping you smuggle a woman into the castle," Aberforth replied through barely suppressed snickers, as Alastor followed suit.

Albus could only huff in indignation.

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Chapter 2: Building up the Offensive

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In the rare moments that he wasn't working on...something unspeakable, and sitting placidly in his designated area (that was it; a desk and chair were too mainstream, anyway), happily cocooned away from the war in the comforting presence of magic, theory, and learning, the Unspeakable had to sigh in exasperated frustration when the tip of a wand made contact, ready to blow his Cerebellum and Medulla Oblongata were he to give the incorrect response.

Truth be told, the man wasn't surprised at all – neither by the presence of the one who held him at wand point, nor by the action itself. The cocoon he was ensconced in was of his own creation, and he knew every disturbance and every disturber, so to speak, and anyone who dared to hold him captive would instead be at his mercy. The man was irritated by the inevitability of the question and the embarrassing nature of the answer he had to give in response. He briefly wondered whether he should have guarded himself against such infuriating irritants also.

"What did Da call yeh, yeh miserable oaf?"

The man, who was seated, grimaced horribly. Every single time – every bloody single time – he was asked that question. He was sure that it was only for fulfilling the twisted sense of humour that his captive asked the question.

"Answer me," the questioner commanded.

"Tinkler, you damned old coot!" growled the Unspeakable. "You ask me that question every single time only because you like to embarrass me, Dangler." The man then got up and hugged his captor.

"How many times have I told you not to accept anyone directly? Always ask a question, damn it!" growled the captor.

"And how many times have I told you that I have complete confidence in what I have used as protections? I know everyone who breaks my reverie."

They were following a light hearted pattern of banter that they engaged in, every single time that they met. 'Dangler', though, did not respond. Instead, his face was set in a grim expression, much more than 'Tinkler' was used to. Unspeakable Corvus looked at his brother with undisguised curiosity, mixed with apprehension.

"What is it Alastor? You always tell me I am always too cocky about my wards. What's the matter?"

"I need your help and utmost privacy, Oswald. Something has happened that has the potential to change the war, if our side plays it right. But first you need to check through your people. Dumbledore fears that your lot have been infiltrated. Frankly, it makes sense. Their side has been using newer curses for quite time now – evidence that they have a spellcrafter on their side. And I could swear that I have seen their lot use time turners."

"That's impossible!" Oswald protested. "We check them thoroughly with a complete psychometric analysis when they are employed, Alastor!"

Alastor shook his head at his brother. "It doesn't work that way in real life, Os. Not even you people could ever understand the vagaries of human nature..." He gave a weary sigh. "Just do me a favour and check the lot out, as of yesterday, git. I can only wait till this evening at six for the results. Then I will hex every one of them within an inch of their lives."

Os could see the determined glint in Alastor's real eye accompanying his blandly delivered threat/ promise. "You wouldn't need to Alastor. While I resent this, I have to be vigilant enough. I will check immediately."

Thirty-five minutes later, fifteen Unspeakables, and Alastor stood in attendance as Augustus Rookwood was unceremoniously pushed through the Veil, before Os finally caught up with his brother, waiting for Alastor to explain at least the briefest outline of the incidents to leading to the events that had occurred.

"There was a new prophecy. It was told to Dumbledore, but his brother and I heard it also. While we are not even sure that it applies to the current Dark Lord, we were handed a fortuitous turn of circumstances. A Death Eater heard it. We now intend to modify the wording of the prophecy before leaking it to HIM. We plan to trap him."

Oswald looked at his brother as if he had grown two heads, each sporting a magical eye. "Are you lot insane?" Oswald asked reflexively, before he took time to think about it and actually work it over. "That's not a bad plan, really," he grudgingly conceded.

"So will you help with the Prophecy?"

"I will need information. What is his real name? What was his past like? Any and all information you could give me about him could be moulded to make the prophecy person specific. The problem will be keeping it different enough from the Oracles of a Seer."

"How long will it take if we give you all available information?"

"How long do you have?"

"No more than ninety-six hours."

"Cutting it rather close, aren't we?"

"We have to use the DE we have, Os. It could be our only chance..."

"I cannot commit before we have information about how long it would take for you to put the plan in action, when you want to do it, how you want to do it, and so on. There are so many variables."

"I can't endanger pregnant women, Os. They are due by the end of July."

"But if you are planning decoys..."

"One of them is a Healer-in-Training. I don't really want to hear her rant. Worse still, a kid, even if it causes problems, will still be easier to handle, logistically, than a hormonal pregnant woman."

"There is that," Oswald conceded. "I will check up on the prophecy. I will handle it personally. If you want it in ninety-six hours, I expect it will involve some high-level modifications on the memories?"

"Yes."

"So that will exclude a mean of twelve hours to create a very thorough memory without noticeable kinks. And who, pray tell, will do that?"

"Albus..."

"That old idiot?" asked Os scathingly. "No. That won't do. I've got a nice young fellow, excellent at mind magics. His service identity is Croaker. Bring those dead-weights around, and I will get things done, if I can construct a good one after whatever information you give me. And I expect it within the next three hours, Alastor."

Alastor recognised the dismissal for what it was. Nodding at his brother, he vanished for his next errand – getting to know more about Voldemort.

"May I intrude on you and your family, this fine evening, Augusta?"

"Of course, Albus," the matron of the House of Longbottom answered, rising to attention immediately. She had rightly surmised this was Order business. "Do you need Frank and Alice?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do indeed."

Augusta rose to fetch the couple via the floo, when Albus stopped her.

"Augusta, I understand that this will be an affront to your honour, but something has come up which has made it absolutely necessary to weed out the traitor."

"Oh?" Augusta's frosty tone made Albus wince, but he had to do what he had to do.

"Yes. I do not suspect either of you three is the traitor. But I am going to have to verify the loyalty of every member. I want to be able to honestly say that I questioned everyone." The stony expression on Augusta's face did not abate. Albus sighed. "If it pleases you, Augusta, then I will start from myself. Would you prefer an oath or Veritaserum?"

"An oath would suffice."

"Fine," Albus replied shortly. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear on my very magic, my life, and my honour, that I stand firmly against the Dark Lord. I further swear that my intention is to destroy him and to protect the common folk and the members of the organisation – The Order of the Phoenix – at any cost to myself, and I have not and shall not betray anyone who stands against the Dark Lord willingly. So I swear truly."

He released sparks from his wand to prove the validity of his oath. Augusta had no choice but to comply, however grudgingly.

With that out of the way, Dumbledore released a smidgen of information. "There is now new development that can throw the entire war around, Augusta. But the problem is that it could harm your unborn grandchild. Or it could harm the Potter kid..."

The second sentence already had Augusta on board. "What do I need to do?" she asked almost fearfully.

"I need you to convince Frank and Alice, and Charlus and Dorea, and James and Lily to prove their loyalty to the Order to us. Only once that is done can I give any more information to any of you."

"I will contact them all immediately," she promised.

Half an hour later, each of the people called were seated along with Albus and Augusta in the small chamber off the main sitting room at Longbottom Hall, sure of the loyalty of each person seated there.

"What is the urgent matter you wanted to discuss, Albus?"

"Yes, Dorea," Dumbledore replied wearily. "As a matter of fact, I do. Last evening, a prophecy was recorded regarding – as has been forcibly brought to my notice – aDark Lord." He produced his Pensieve and showed those congregated the memory.

"I suppose you understand my fears?" He asked the two expecting couples.

Alice was the first to come out of the shock. "Surely you don't mean that either of mine or Lily's child will have to fight, and defeat, HIM?" When Dumbledore didn't answer immediately, she pulled her wand on her former Headmaster. "My family and I shall be moving out of Britain immediately! This problem was allowed to fester by the previous generation and I am not going to allow my child to be caught up in this!"

"And I second her!" Lily was not going to leave her child's safety to chance either.

"And I commend you for that decision, Ladies, but I am pretty sure that this wasn't why Albus called us all." Charlus had known Albus for a long time, and had even fought against Grindelwald's forces with him. Albus was observing them all watching their reactions carefully. That he had also given Augusta an Oath told Charlus that there was a completely different game afoot.

"Precisely so, Charlus," said Dumbledore in acknowledgement, with a nod. "While your maternal instincts are commendable, they lie very much against my intentions -" he held up a hand to stop the impending onslaught of protests, "they lie against my intentions because they will work against the need to protect your children. As of now, I am sure that the Department of Mysteries has been infiltrated. As long as the spy isn't weeded out, we have to assume that the fact that a prophecy has been made will reach Tom. Should you escape now, and the spy within the Order that we have yet to weed out tells Tom about it, it will paint a target on your backs."

Youth is impetuous, but between the four parents-to-be, their cumulative ages were still less than Dumbledore. That, along with the ingrained habit of obeying his orders calmed their tempers – temporarily.

"So what are you proposing we should do?"

Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows rose at James' question. Only to a person who paid attention to such things would the implication be clear. James hadn't asked "What should we do?" No. He was reserving his judgement on whatever Dumbledore would propose.

"The problem with the whole matter is that we had an unwelcome guest. A Death Eater, to be precise. As of now, we have him captured and his identity has been placed under a Fidelius Charm."

"Why?" Frank curiously asked. "Why is a DE being protected?"

"Because of the Dark Mark," answered Albus. Lily and Alice gasped almost simultaneously. "I see that you have realised something. Please illuminate us."

"The Dark Mark is actually a perversion of the Protean Charm," explained Lily. "That means that as soon as HE calls, the Death Eater in question will have to go."

Alice took over here. "Now if the Death Eater is captured, he obviously can't answer the summons. If his identity is placed under a Fidelius, which is a fundamentally stronger Charm by precedence than the Protean Charm – though we can't be sure in this case, as HE has cast it in a perverted and modified form – the Death Eater will be temporarily forgotten by their side. So he won't be able to tell HIM about the prophecy, as he won't be called till the Charm has been removed." A look of comprehension graced her face. She looked at Dumbledore in mild accusation. "You mean to spring a trap."

If Dumbledore was only mildly surprised by that statement, Lily's explanation surely completed it. "Since he is being held by our side, and his identity is being protected, it means that you intend to leak the Prophecy to HIM in some way."

Dumbledore had to smile at that. The two women were truly clever and had him pegged almost immediately. "Were you still in school, I would have awarded Ravenclaw and Gryffindor at least fifty points apiece," he complimented. And indeed he would have. As a teacher, such leaps of logic were something to savour in his students. As a war general, it was a pain when his immediate instinct was to keep things secret and let people around him see only the smallest glimpses of the plan which would let them think they were trusted and thereby ensure their loyalty. A slight grimace involuntarily made itself known.

"You weren't going to tell us that were you?" Dorea asked.

Albus decided that he just had to come clean. Damn Potters and their love for brilliant witches. Still, that didn't mean that he couldn't extricate his hide from their wrath. "No, I didn't. The plan needs to be as close to perfect as can be before I can ask anything of you."

"That means you have more capable planners with you. The trap is not really your style." Frank too, had heard more than Albus said. The men were not too far behind their wives, just their wits and cleverness worked in different ways.

"Yes. This was Alastor's plan." Albus chuckled while James burst out laughing as Frank winced horribly and whimpered.

"The plan," Augusta prompted in an impatient manner.

"Ah yes. As I said we haven't fine-tuned it."

"Brass tacks now, Albus," Charlus commanded. "You can fill us in on the details later."

"Indeed. We intend to release a fake prophecy to Tom through the Death Eater. We will also make the traitor the secret-keeper. When Tom attacks what he thinks to be the Longbottom or Potter hideout, we use the DE tactic. Seal him in and blow him up." While Dumbledore said it in a way that showed his disbelief that such a plan could work at all, Frank and James each gave a loud whoop of laughter.

"Finally!" exclaimed Frank. "We can finally start putting the bastards down. I was so waiting for the day when you'd realise it, Dumbledore!"

"We should use C4, then?" James asked his wife. "The idiot will be blasted apart by muggle explosives. It'll be a massive prank!"

"For a change, James, I actually approve of this." Lily's answers made James' eyes shine with unbridled joy.

"NOBODY IS KILLING ANYBODY EXCEPT TOM!" Albus thundered.

"Well then consider that our resignation from the Order!" Frank replied coolly. "You keep letting our people die. Not anymore. The next time I come across a hooded hoodlum, I will kill. I won't use Unforgivables, but kill I will."

Albus had started releasing power, starting his usual intimidation game. Frank was ready for that. He stunned Dumbledore and took his wand, yelping suddenly when it became warm and shot sparks of its own volition.

"We use Veritaserum and the agent preventing its use?" Frank asked his friend.

"Of course," James replied handing him the vials.

Thirty three minutes later, Albus was being questioned.

"What is your name?"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"When were you born?"

"3rd October 1893."

"Why won't you let anyone kill murderers?"

"Everyone can be redeemed."

"Why?"

"..."

"Why do you want to redeem them?"

"They are humans."

"You killed Gellert."

"..."

"Did you not kill Gellert Grindelwald?"

"No."

"Why did you not?"

"I loved him too much to do so." This caused a bout of retching and a cold fire to erupt in Charlus' eyes.

"What have you done with him?"

"He is imprisoned in Nurmengard."

"Is that where you go every thirteenth of November?"

"Yes."

"What will you do if we kill Death Eaters?"

"I cannot condone such an act. I will have to report it to the authorities."

"Counter the Veritaserum Frank."

It took Albus five minutes to regain his bearings. As soon as he did that, he nearly lost his temper – that was until he saw Frank holding the Wand. Then his shoulders slumped. Unknown to Albus, Charlus did know the legend of the Hallows – at least the complete litany of crimes committed by the Questers of the Hallows for some obscure obsession for power and immortality.

"Do you trust me Frank?" Charlus asked, looking at the wand that Frank held with both hands.

"Absolutely," answered Frank.

"Burn the pieces." Before Dumbledore could protest and before Frank could make sense of that order, Charlus had brought his hand down like a knife and broke the wand of legends.

Frank duly burnt those pieces.

"Since when did you know?"

"I know enough about my ancestors, Albus. The question is how many crimes have you committed with that thing?"

"I resent that!"

"AND RIGHT NOW YOU HAVEN'T GIVEN ME TO NOT RESENT YOU!" growled Charlus. "IN THAT WAR AGAINST YOUR LOVER-BOY, I LOST MY BROTHER AND COUSIN, MAKING ME THE LAST OF THE POTTERS! YOU NEARLY AIDED AND ABETTED THE WIPING OUT OF THE POTTER LINE OVER A BLOODY LOVER'S SPAT!" he snarled, spittle flying out of his mouth as he went into a towering rage. "YOU STOPPED ME FROM KILLING THE MAN WHO KILLED ADRIAN AND FLEAMONT! ALL BECAUSE YOU DON'T ABIDE RETALIATORY STRIKES, DAMN IT!"

If Dumbledore thought that he was just going to be struck down for that long-held grudge, he was wrong. "THEN YOU STOPPED BENJY FROM KILLING THAT BEAST, DOLOHOV, WHO MURDERED HIM A WEEK LATER! LOOK AT HOW MANY WE HAVE LOST! GERALD, BENJY, DORCAS, CARADOC, MICHAEL SIMPSON... HOW DO YOU DARE SHOW ME YOUR SANCTIMONIOUS FACE, YOU BASTARD? YOU SENT THEM ALL TO DIE!"

"Char-Dad, please, calm down, please..." Lily pled. Charlus was really someone she cared about, a man who had willingly treated her more as a daughter than a daughter-in-law. She knew that he had kept his cool for too long as he saw friends die around him. Frank, James, Alice and Augusta too pitched in. This was something that had really been in the offing for quite a long time.

"No! I must speak this. There have been three breakouts from Azkaban, THREE! And each of those people has killed again and again. I am tired of this!"

"And you think I am not?" countered Albus. "You think I like to see my people, my students dying?"

"Then why stop us from doing anything about it?"

It was very intimidating for the other five to watch the two war veterans go at each other. Neither was giving an inch.

"And stain our hands?"

"I would kill them and dance on their bones – to borrow a goblin expression – than see my family die. And if it stains my soul, then so be it. I don't believe there is much to judge me for once I die anyway. I would rather die keeping my family safe! Or is it Tom Riddle who you want to protect and redeem now? What next? Going to sacrifice my unborn grandchild? Or Augusta's? And then perhaps you will convince us to sacrifice the muggleborn children that the Death Eaters will annihilate by us being inactive, moral and naive; you'd allow that, won't you?" The venom in Charlus' sarcastic words was eating away at Albus.

"Shut up!" It had been years and years since Albus had spoken that way. He normally used a calm demeanour and infuriatingly flowery language. "I have heard enough from you, Charlus. I say no to killing, because I have experienced how causing death or suspecting that you have done so can destroy a person! I don't want that for my students!"

"You need live students in the first place for you to pass on your wisdom to! And I am not advocating the murder of innocents. I am informing you, that from now on, every DE will be killed by my wand, and that of my wife, my son, his wife, Frank, Alice and Augusta. Any attacker will die." The two men glared at each other, before Charlus brusquely said, "I think we have wasted enough time on this. We won't let you know if we dispose of some DE scum. You don't trouble us. I will make sure that I speak to Alastor also."

Dumbledore grimaced and grumbled. He was at the power of these people. They had destroyed The Quest forever. "Alright; but I believe that beyond the plan to take Tom out, we have reached a parting of ways as far as the war is concerned."

Charlus just shrugged. "I will see him out when this meeting is done, Gus. And I will expect complete information from you, Mr. Dumbledore."

It was obvious that the two families he was hoping to have on his side were going on the offensive against him and Tom. Dumbledore had never felt as unnerved as he was feeling then. It was like sitting in a group to play cards only to then realise that the cards he had been dealt were meaningless. For Charlus to now openly champion force against the people who could be redeemed blew his idea out of the water. He couldn't let this man know everything, now more than ever. He had of course not bargained for Dorea piecing together the information sequentially. It really was unfair for him. Seven against one – with one of them a Black, another an old hand at politics, one the supposed brightest-witch-of-her-age and another woman who could give said witch a run for her money, and three equally clever men – were a potent enough group to unwind Albus, if they cared to do so, and were therefore terrible odds.

"So let me get this straight. You heard a prophecy – and it simply can't have been in Hogwarts, or there wouldn't have been an eavesdropper. Said prophecy refers to either mine or Augusta's grandchild. You have caught the eavesdropper. I would go forth to say that it was completely Alastor's idea to spring a trap. You must have wanted to leave that scum alone and leak the real prophecy so that HE would make a move and be brought down in the interim; so a charge against you for being accessory to the murder of whichever Ancient and Most Noble line that Riddle would target." She was observing Albus closely and Albus didn't give anymore reaction than an involuntary wince. Dorea smiled grimly.

"So now I want the name of the Death Eater. If we agree to Alastor's plan, we will then want the Death Eater culled."

Albus just couldn't understand how and when he lost control of the meeting. The way Dorea was speaking, it was obvious that she would now ensure that the Potters and Longbottoms would bother themselves only with what Alastor could convince them to do.

"Now, since you apparently have agreed to Alastor's plan, and have the Fidelius in place, but knowing Alastor, he won't take the chance of Riddle knowing there was a live Death Eater who he couldn't call which would give the game away. So he must be in a magical imitated state of death. Draught of Living Death?"

As much as Albus hated the woman at the moment, he had to marvel at the way she was picking everything that wasn't being said. "Then, you leak a version of the Prophecy to Riddle by implanting a false memory of overhearing but not being caught into the eavesdropper's head. Of course, Tom will ask his harem about any magical children being born at the time that the Prophecy specifies. So the mole in the Order will tell him about our grandchildren, essentially making our families the bait. The traitor then becomes the secret-keeper of the trap, and we blow up the Dark One."

With nothing but the identity of the Death Eater left to hide, Albus had to finally accept that he had lost the game with these people. "Yes. A complete and correct summary, as it is."

Dorea looked at her friend. Augusta now had enough information to manipulate Dumbledore.

"We want a sample of this Death Eater's blood. You haven't done a good job of convincing us at all. Irrespective of whether or not we agree, your actions have nearly condemned us all to death. We will track this Death Eater down. And we will track the traitor in the Order down as well. If we decide to accept Alastor's plan, we will then ensure that these two are brought to justice and killed." Augusta's tone brooked no argument.

"Is it really necessary?" Albus asked weakly.

"You have some nerve to ask that, Albus. You thought it was necessary to kill our families."

"Augusta! I strongly resent this statement."

"What makes you think that I care? You will do as I say, or I will-"

"We will," interrupted Charlus.

"We will," Augusta acknowledged. "We will declare that we absolute neutrality. We obviously have named Riddle as an enemy of our Houses and will also release his origins going against what you have said, but you shall receive the same honour," intoned Augusta Longbottom nee Rosier, ensuring that Albus knew exactly who he was up against.

Albus gave one of his exaggerated sighs – only this time, it was completely genuine. He had never envisioned the meeting going so bad. He looked to each of them in turn, and when his gaze zeroed in on Lily, he realised – or rather, thought that he still had one card to play.

"Would you have no mercy on a friend, Lily?"

"Who was it Mr. Dumbledore?" While Lily was nearly devastated, she had prepared for such an eventuality.

"Severus," Albus replied softly.

"Snivellus!" snarled James and Frank in unison. James felt particularly vindicated. He had always despised the greasy man.

Lily wanted to say that he wasn't her friend. Lily wanted to say that he would be killed anyway. There were many more things that she wanted to say. But then she realised that this was a clear manipulation. She decided to turn the game on him. She put on a very hurt but determined mien, and brought forth all the memories of her friendship with Snape. Such a sudden change in her behaviour would mean Albus attempting Legillimency. She hated it, but knew that this way Albus would not suspect her true motives.

"I don't want him dead. And you can attempt to reform him." She shook her head to silence the others, but squeezed and tapped James' hand. "He had a hard life. You are using him." Her voice was really sorrowful as she said that. "But I agree with Augusta in that we want his blood, and we want to be there when you extract it, and we will have Alastor verify that it is him." She said it in such an earnest way, that everyone heard the "I hope it isn't him" that she hadn't spoken. "I can only give him one more chance. The same goes for the traitor. I hope it can be resolved without the intervention of the Law."

Albus smiled, while the others looked at the woman in incredulity. She had forgiveness in her. She had touched an avenue that he had not realised, but had also quickly closed it down. It was all that he could get at the moment, but he knew he had a weak point, the only chink in their armour.

"Of course, my girl," Albus said in his kindly-grandfather manner.

Augusta looked at Lily with unabashed shock and anger, before she turned to Dumbledore, even as James started venting anger at his wife. "I think you should go, Albus. We will get back to Alastor later."

Albus obeyed the dismissal with a smile.

Once he was gone, James scanned the room for any listening charms and the like, while the others started berating Lily for her stance. He then turned to them all with a wry smile, and said, "Please let us hear her out. What do you have in mind, Lils?"

Lily did love James, and at that moment, she loved him even more. He had understood the sign she gave him and had played along perfectly. "We know that Albus was trying to manipulate me. Snivellus is a dead man walking – he was one ever since he joined the DEs. I just wanted Albus to think that he had one a small victory. He had to take away something that he would assume as a positive from the meeting, didn't he? Otherwise, he would keep us out of the loop and still use us." She smirked at James' comprehending look and the bewilderment of the others.

"Of course I don't want him dead, nor do I want him to be tried by the Wizengamot where he will only get a light sentence; and none at all, if he betrays any DEs. That he is still alive while he is useful to us is the only 'chance' he gets. When he tells his Master the 'Prophecy', he will lose it. After that, he will be fair game. He spat on my friendship. And he is a Death Eater and therefore a criminal. So I will kill him, after the current matter is resolved, and my child is born."

Dorea looked at her daughter-in-law with wonder and amusement and then laughed. "I knew I liked you, Lily! You would have done well as a Black!"

"Hey! I am not going to let my son be so inbred like that mutt Sirius is!" protested James with mock-rancour.

.

Chapter 3: Cleaning house

.

Immediately after Dumbledore left, Frank, Alice, James and Lily decided to go a step ahead of Dumbledore and unearth any and all traitors in the Order before Dumbledore could pull another of his tricks as he attempted with Lily. The old man, while a good person, an excellent teacher, and friend, was also quite naïve in believing that DEs should be allowed a chance to redeem themselves. That apart, he had fought so much, that they had started thinking that he believed the outcome to be more important than the people. In theory, that might have been the horrible truth of war, but if one lost sight, eventually there would be nobody left to savour the positive outcome. It was the scum who chose to kill people. It would have to be their choice and actions that would initiate redemption. None of the four had any doubt that Snape would have run off to his master with the information had he not been caught.

Between them, the four made lists of people they were closest to, and therefore – if they were traitors – could be used to manipulate them. For Frank, it was Ralph Mason, Edgar and Robert Bones, the Prewett Twins and Emmaline Vance; and for Alice, Wilhelmina Coldword, Althea Brigham and Astoria Taylor. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Marlene McKinnon and Daphne Milner made the lists for James and Lily.

"You three will help us won't you?" Lily asked the three elders.

"Must you ask, Flower?" Charlus rhetorically asked. "Of course we will. Who do we start with?"

"The Marauders," James answered immediately. "As much as I would trust them all with my life, every single one of them has been gone for long stretches of time. It would be bad form to discount Mad-Eye's teaching' now. The rest of the people on the lists have been around and we have known of their missions directly or indirectly."

"The Marauders it is then," Frank agreed with a snap-clap. "Call them in James."

"Aye, sir!" replied James with a salute.

Alice and Lily rolled their eyes at their husbands' antics, while Charlus commanded, "Get it done today, you idiots!"

James drew his wand, and cast his Patronus, to call in Sirius and Remus, both of whom he knew to be in their usual haunts, first. "Padfoot, Moony, Marauders' emergency! Come to Longbottom Hall!"

Ten minutes later, both men were sitting, stunned and bound, with the neutralising agent for the antidote to Veritaserum running through their systems. When it ran its course half an hour later, the interrogation started.

It was Sirius' turn first.

"What is your name?"

"Sirius Orion Black."

"Are you known by any other names?"

"Yes."

"Which are those names?"

"I am Padfoot of the Marauders, the spirit of the pack."

"Who do you consider to be your family? What are their names and aliases?"

"James, aka Prongs, and Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Moony of the Marauders, Great-Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus, Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail of the Marauders, Marlene McKinnon, Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks, and if I can still save them, Regulus Black and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

"Do you support Voldemort or his ideals?"

"No."

"What would you do if any of those you have named as family, or any of their friends, are in danger from the Death Eaters?"

"I will try to subdue the Death Eaters, if it is sensible in the situation. Otherwise I will kill them."

That was actually enough. But James had a nagging suspicion that he wanted addressed.

"Have you proposed to Marlene McKinnon?"

"Yes."

"When are you going to willingly tell us?"

"I wasn't."

"Why are you not going to tell us?"

"Because it would be funny to just wake Prongs, Lily, Moony and Wormtail up early in the morning on the wedding day and make Prongs stand as my best man, so that I won't be the only nervous person."

"That's him," James declared in exasperation. Trust Padfoot to do something so idiotic regarding his own wedding day.

"When will you grow up Sirius?" Lily muttered, not realising that Sirius hadn't been given the antidote.

"Never."

Charlus and Frank couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up at that.

When he was revived and his control and senses were restored, Sirius looked absolutely mutinous. "What the fuck, Prongs?"

He quite forgot that Great-Aunt Dorea was still around. He was reminded of that forcibly when she 'scourgify'ed his mouth a second later.

"What? Why'd you do that?" He couldn't understand why he was being subjected to such torture.

"Sit, boy."

"I am dog animagus, Prongs, not a dog," Sirius reminded his friend mulishly.

"That is true. But for now, sit and listen. Well sit till we get Moony's interrogation done." Sirius nodded dumbly and obeyed.

Frank fired the questions to Remus.

"What is your name?"

"Remus John Lupin."

"What is your birth-date?"

"10th April 1960."

"What is your animagus form?"

"I don't have one."

"Why don't you have an animagus form?"

"I am werewolf."

"Are you known by any other names? Which are those aliases?"

"Yes. I am Moony, the brain of the Marauders. Though Lily now claims that."

"Do you support Voldemort or his ideas in any form?"

"No."

"Do you consider James Potter, Lily Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew family?"

"Yes. They are my pack."

"What would you do if they or any of their friends are endangered?"

"I would protect them with my life if need be."

That was it.

Funnily, Moony had exactly the same reaction and the same reaction to his reaction from Dorea.

"Frank, I know that it is the tradition of the alliance of our Houses that we have always had the respective heirs of the two houses under the guardianship of the other, should the worst happen. Would you mind terribly if Lily and I asked this of Alice? I ask because I intend to uphold the tradition, but I had promised someone that they would be the godfather of my firstborn on my wedding day."

"Of course, James, it would be a great honour. I will consider the tradition upheld. I too must admit that Ralph is my first choice, for much the same reasons." After exchanging a glance with his wife, his expression changed. "Though, if Lily could do the same for my child as Alice will for yours...?"

"Of course," Lily happily accepted.

"Thank you Frank." Turning to Sirius, James intoned gravely, "You are going to be a godfather, as promised."

It took some time for the news to percolate into Sirius' head. When it did, he jumped up with his hands aloft and whirled around the room like a five year old on a sugar high, shouting in absolute glee.

"I shouldn't have promised him that while I was drunk," James bemoaned. "It will be like asking a kid to look after a baby! If I leave him alone with the baby, I am pretty sure that the kid would end up babysitting Sirius!" He turned to his other friend, who was very quietly but with a wide-eyed smile, and asked carefully, "Moony, you know that if the Ministry rules would let you have custody of the Prongslet, you would be higher up than Sirius on the list, don't you?"

"Of course," Remus replied with a beaming smile. "It is still sinking in, you know. A Prongslet...there is going to be a baby Prongs... a little Prongslet," he uttered the word, testing and tasting it, in a way. He must have liked it, evidently, because a moment later, he joined Sirius – albeit far less exuberantly – in his celebration. "We are going to have a new Marauder!" Then he looked at Frank and Alice, and corrected himself. "We are going to have two little marauders!"

"And I thought he was the sane one." Augusta's very loud musing brought the attention back to the others in the room.

"Sorry!" both sheepishly apologised.

"There is more though," Charlus started, taking over the reins of the matter. James always had the tendency to get carried away around the two fools.

Charlus' grave tone put a damper on the celebrations. "Yes?"

"We just had a meeting with Albus..." He went on to explain the prophecy and the plan in the vaguest possible terms, though he hinted at who the Death Eater was (Dumbledore alone could name him explicitly, as he was the secret-keeper) heavily enough for the placid werewolf to let out an animalistic snarl, and say, "I won't be executed if I kill him this time." They were also told about Dumbledore's attempt at manipulating Lily, which had triggered the interrogation.

"You mean you told that barmy old Headmaster that you knocked up Lily-flower, and not us? I am hurt! I am so very much hurt!" cried Sirius in outrage.

"Padfoot!" shouted Lily. "Stop this nonsense at once!" Sirius stopped protesting at once.

"We had to get the ladies off active duty, Sirius," Frank explained. The Marauders and very, very, very rarely, Lily were sometimes so much like kids themselves, that, Frank feared that he would end up babysitting them as well. And he was only three years their senior.

"What do we do now, Charlus?" Remus asked, overriding the walking accident that was Sirius.

It was Dorea, though who answered. "Right now, Remus, I think you should do what Albus wants you to. He is likely to check through the Order in the coming days. It wouldn't do for him to know that we have stolen a march on both him and You-Know-Who."

That made sense to Remus. As much as he was indebted to Albus, nothing he asked would come at the safety of his pack.

"The other thing I want you to do is keep a tab on the people on these lists. Since it is obvious, that, the people on them that will be proven trustworthy will be informed about the happenings of today, we will have to get them together and form an Order within the Order. We will need a very strong secrecy Vow, and a way to prevent them from being forced to break it. You needn't place that above the assigned Order work, but I trust that between you, Lily and Alice, you will be able to come up with something."

That again was something Remus could see the sense in. What Dorea was suggesting was something like a coven, centred on two possibly prophesied children. Secrecy and protection would be important. This was right up his alley.

"As for you Sirius, I need you to convince Arcturus that serving HIM is against the tenets of the Blacks."

"I would happily do it, Aunt Dorea, but how?"

"You know that HIS father is a muggle, don't you?" Sirius could only look at Dorea with wide-eyed disbelief. Dorea nodded and continued, "I am going to write my dear old brother a letter and give him evidence. I want you to speak to him and get him to deal with Regulus, Bellatrix and her husband and his brother, and Narcissa and Lucius. Ask him from me whether he is happy to have his House members serving a half-blood bastard, whose mother could seduce his father only by the use of potions."

Sirius' shock turned to gleeful surprise. A chance to thumb his nose at his family was not to be wasted. "How soon can I talk to Grandda?"

"Tomorrow."

"Yes!" Sirius accentuated that with a small fist-pump. Dorea could only shake her head at her grandnephew in fond exasperation.

"Tell me when you are done then?" prompted Remus. "It would be better for us to not be around when you check the next people on your lists. It could cause the real spy to get too cautious before you catch him."

Dorea nodded. James however stopped Remus. "I want both of you there when Wormtail is under Veritaserum. In fact, it would be better if you two stayed hidden for everyone else too. With mum's coven idea, I would feel it to be better if the proven ones remained with us for the time being while the interrogation list is complete. You could also help us explain things to them."

"Of course," Remus replied as he sat back down. "For what it is worth, Prongs, I think you are doing the right thing. I have been thinking recently, and something about Peter rubs me the wrong way."

"Oh?"

"You know how we always register our missions in Minerva's logbook?" He received a series of nods in reply. "The other day, I checked the logbook out of curiosity. I wanted to see what sort of missions the Order had, apart from my spying with the werewolves gig."

People nodded again and Augusta made a 'get on with it' gesture.

"Tell me, Prongs, how many times has Pettigrew been away for long periods of time over the last three months, saying that he has a secret mission?"

Lily raised an eyebrow at the use of the surname, instead of the customary 'Wormtail' as James answered, "Five or six times, I think."

"Six times," Padfoot concurred.

Remus looked them all in the eye in turn and then stated plainly, "He has only been registered twice."

"But couldn't there be a simple solution to the problem like Wormtail simply not registering?"

Remus sighed gustily, and ran his hand over his face. "Unfortunately, there isn't. You know how the muggleborn registry works, right? The names are put up as soon as accidental magic is detected, both in the Ministry and at Hogwarts. Just out of intellectual curiosity, I tested the enchantments on the logbook. They are very similar. As soon as a verbally agreed mission between Albus, Alastor or Minerva and the Order member starts, that is, first contact with the people in question is made, the mission is recorded. Six months ago, I made an attempt to infiltrate one of Greyback's subsidiary packs and lair. I broke away three of their numbers before I was found out and chased off. Since those three joined me, and now are either under the Order's protection or work for it, the mission status was deemed as 'aborted but partially successful'. See?"

Again all the others nodded. It was a sensible registry system.

"So over the past three months, James had two outstation missions, one of them with Frank where the two had gone to the continent to find information about the Scandinavian noblemen who were rumoured to be coming out in our support. The other was with Sirius when they last arrested Dolohov, who has since broken out again. Frank also had the running mission of covert checking within the Ministry – it has the status 'in progress'. Sirius and the Twins had a mission where they had to pre-emptively dismantle raids in Kensington."

"But our mission was secret!" protested James, gesturing towards himself and Frank.

"That is secret as long as nobody bothers to check the logbook. Let me just say that what I did was something I have done many times before when I dug your arses out of the holes that Minerva threatened to bury you in while at school.

"Anyway," Remus continued. "As you mentioned, Alice and Lily dropped off the 'active' operatives list last month, and now I know why. I didn't know why, but I didn't ask either. Truthfully speaking, my actions very much fit the spy profile." He received understanding nods.

"Now we come to Wormtail. As I said, for all his claims of having six missions, he has only two registered missions. It is also particularly in the last six months, that we have been taking severe hits and our body count is rising, more than is normal anyway. Interestingly, each of those missions had been discussed in Order meetings, where anybody could hear them, perhaps even a rat? So if Wormtail is going on missions, and if he has participated in only two Order missions, who were the remaining four missions for?"

James had to sit down. The evidence was purely circumstantial conjecture, but it all fit. "You don't think Wormy might be attempting to chat up girls in some obscure bar or pub?" He asked weakly.

"I am still giving him the benefit of doubt, aren't I? But that isn't the last of it. You know how he got hooked onto those half-sleeved T-Shirt things Lily has us wear when we go out into the muggle world."

Sirius, James and Lily grinned. Wormtail's fixation with the T-Shirts was one of the most amusing things to see when they accompanied Lily to muggle shops. The last time they had done so, over a year back, Wormtail had bought no less than twelve T-Shirts.

"When was the last time you saw him wear one?"

That stopped all discussion. It was just too big to ignore, and it had slipped their notice completely.

"I think we must get Wormy here first."

There were murmurs of agreement, before Sirius asked very seriously as he conjured rat traps, "Do we call Minerva and see if she is hungry, just in case?"

"As ever, your stab at humour remains of the doghouse version, Padfoot," was Lily's scathing retort.

"Have you ever heard Marlene complaining?"

"She will. She will soon."

"You are jealous of her, you know, Lils? You are jealous that you had to settle for James while she gets the Adonis come to life, the perfect example of males of the human species, Padfoot, the greatest-"

"- prat ever born," Moony supplied to much chortling from the others. "Stop barking, mutt! Go chase your tail if you've got nothing better to do!"

"Some friends I've got," Sirius moaned in mock-dismay, as he laid the last trap.

Peter Pettigrew arrived about ten minutes later. It was his consistent worry that he would be found out one day by the Order and his friends. That was why he was always on guard. When he saw all the others, for a moment, it seemed his worst fears were realised. They were also quickly belayed when he saw the happy faces. As a Death Eater spy, he had had to learn the micro-expressions. At the moment, all the people were genuinely happy. He let down his guard for a moment. That was also the worst mistake he ever made – not counting joining the Death Eaters.

Dorea did the honours this time.

"What is your name?"

"Peter Thomas Pettigrew."

"When were you born?"

"22nd April 1960."

"Do you have an animagus form?"

"Yes."

"What is your animagus form?"

"A common brown rat."

"Do you support the Dark Lord Voldemort, or his ideas in any form?"

"Yes and no."

The first word was a knife through the hearts of the Marauders. Dorea remained stoic.

"What did you mean by the previous answer? Why do you support Voldemort?"

"I support the Dark Lord because I am a Death Eater."

By this time, Remus, James and Sirius were the ones who had been tied to chairs to stop them from killing Wormtail.

"Do you support his ideas?"

"No."

"Then why are you a Death Eater?"

There was a little hope instilled onto the faces of the three other Marauders. Perhaps old Wormy was spying for their side, they thought, quite forgetting that he did support Voldemort.

"Because the Dark Lord promised to not kill me and to protect me."

This caused Sirius to blow his top. "Why did you not believe James, Remus and Remus then to protect you, Pettigrew?"

"You always made fun of me. I was always stupid little Peter. The Dark Lord promised that I could have power over and above you all, once he was done with me." Peter had betrayed them all over that? Their Peter, their brother, their little Wormtail was the traitor?

"Did you know that once we caught you we would kill you?" asked Remus. Of them all, he was hit the worst. Peter was once his pack-mate. Peter had managed the change for him. It made him indirectly responsible for the deaths of all those whom Peter had betrayed.

"No."

"Why did you not know that?"

"You are all the stooges of that muggle loving fool. You don't kill."

"How many Order members have you betrayed?"

"Three of the last six failed missions were because I told the Dark Lord about them. I think I am responsible for ten deaths, all told." Veritaserum didn't allow for any feeling to seep into the answers, which was good. The Marauders were up for some pest control.

"Who is responsible for the other three failures?"

"The other spy," replied Peter.

"Who is the other spy?"

"I don't know."

"Who do you think is the other spy?"

The answer this time was a blow to Frank. "Ralph Mason."

"Tell me, Pettigrew, do you expect to die at our hands?"

"No."

"Good. You shall go back to expecting the same." Levelling her wand at the unfocussed eyes of Peter Pettigrew, she erased any memory she had of the entire interrogation, filling his head, instead, with inane details regarding an early party for the Order to lift the sagging spirits, before sending him on his way.

There was a really long silence. A very, very long silence that quickly got stifling and suffocating, and yet was very difficult to break. Frank broke it with a succinct observation.

"That sucks."

"You don't say..." muttered Lily with blandness.

"Alright," snapped Augusta. "Frank, get Mason here, now. Where is he likely to be?"

"He is, on his own, a businessman with assorted interests. It seems treachery, and murder, are his new assorted interests."

"Really Frank, there is no need to pass judgement on Ralph Mason. We know now that Peter is a traitor. In spite of veritaserum, the truth can be subject to perception..." chided Lily.

"That isn't the point and you know it Lils. Pettigrew had to have something to place Ralph as a possible candidate for the other traitor. I was going to name him as the godfather to my child. I would have ended up placing my kid into the hands of the enemy!" Frank spoke, with every word reeking of frustration.

"You still can," Charlus pointed out. "We don't know for sure that he has crossed over."

"I also think that it would be wiser to stagger things a bit," interrupted Alice. "Get the Prewett brothers in next."

And so in they came. The Prewett brothers were cleared, as was Coldword and then Taylor and Emmaline Vance. The ladies soon left to tend to their jobs at the Ministry, promising to keep everything a secret from both Dumbledore and of course, him. They also promised to come back later in the evening for further explanation. They were about to call in the Bones brothers, when Edgar's Patronus streamed in. "Bones Manor under attack. We are holding on. We don't have much time."

All the men, except Charlus, immediately geared up for battle. It might have been incredibly sexist, were it not for the fact that the Lady Bones was holding the fort with her husband, and two of the four present were pregnant and the other two were old.

Lily, though, decided to be the voice of reason. "Just be careful. We have yet to check either him or Robert or their sister."

"Ed wouldn't do that Lily," Gideon offered.

"Well we didn't think Peter would either," Lily countered.

The twins looked at each other and spoke in unison. "We did."

"What? Why? How?"

"We took one look at him," started Fabian.

"And realised he was the scaredy, snivelling git," continued Gideon.

"That always rubbed us the wrong way..."

"Well, there isn't a real way to rub one the wrong way," Gideon mused, causing Lily to gag.

"But we wouldn't have a bloke rubbing us," explained Fabian.

"Then there was his animagus form..." Gideon picked the thread of the real explanation again.

"A rat was so suggestive," agreed Fabian.

"There were the super-secret missions that never were..."

"And we don't think he would like to chat Yaxley up, really...

"Though we aren't sure that Yaxley likes other blokes rubbing him..."

"And we aren't sure that Yaxley isn't a Death Nibbler either..."

"But he is a git right up the Chief Death Eater's alley..."

"So when Pettigrew sidled up to him..."

"It sort of ensured..."

"That he was always our biggest suspect!" the two ended in unison.

"Now go!" Augusta commanded sharply, interrupting the one-sided verbal tennis.

Frank, Gideon, Fabian, James, Sirius and Remus really did find battle at the Bones' home. Immediately, the twins moved about to secure Aaron, Leanne and Dahlia the Bones' children, shepherding them out through the back door. Taking them together freed Edgar and Vanessa who had been fighting for their and their children's lives. Unfortunately, they were met up by the hulking dark-haired brute, Antonin Dolohov.

"Well, da leettle Proowet bloodtraitors, eesn't it? Meet your death." Dolohov grinned horribly as he sent a flaming purple curse which struck young Aaron across the ribs. Fortunately Gideon had cast a hasty shield. It still had done a lot of damage.

"Damn it. Giddy, take the kids and move, I'll meet you soon with this shite's head."

"But doo you not stun your opponents leettle Breeteesh weezard?" Antonin asked as he fired another curse which Fabian just dodged.

"No longer," answered the Prewett, as he fired off a fast chain of cutting curses, two of which caught on the arms. It wasn't enough to incapacitate the man by any measure, but the chain drew blood, bolstering Fabian's confidence.

"Ahh. Proowet comes out too plei, eh? Gut, gut!"

He brought out his full arsenal, and Fabian really relished fighting the monster. Both were bleeding. Antonin Dolohov was a powerful Death Eater, but Fabian Prewett was no weakling. Winded, the two still went at it. And then it was all over, all of a sudden. Gideon had banished a massive transfigured rock at Dolohov's head, smashing it to pulp against the ground.

Blowing imaginary smoke away from the tip of his wand, Gideon attempted a nonchalant demeanour that failed due to the quaver in his voice as he nearly saw his twin killed. "It was all entertaining alright, but I thought you were taking too much time."

Fabian smiled, then frowned, and then let lose a silver spike over his twin's shoulder, which impaled itself squarely into Fenrir Greyback's shoulder. "Turning your back on a werewolf that's not Remus... you are losing your touch, brother!"

The two grinned, and grasped each child by a shoulder, with Gideon steadying Fabian on one hand and Aaron on the other, and portkeyed off to Longbottom Hall.

"Augusta! We have got some very injured blokes coming through!"

James and Remus were fighting a new slew of Death Eaters. One of them, however, was very well known to them – considering he had tried to get Moony executed. Walden McNair saw the beast that had slipped from his executioner's blade, and removed his mask. The wolf would see his death as it tried to stun him.

Unfortunately, McNair had met Remus on a day when he had learnt of the betrayal of a pack-mate. He never got to raise his wand as he was dispatched with a 'Levicorpus' which levitated him very high and then the 'Liberacorpus' which released him, head first, breaking his neck.

"Nice work, Moons!" James praised, as they went about securing the entire perimeter of the Bones' Manor, the Ossuary, just as Sirius gleefully launched Edwin Gunter headlong into the wall, just in time for Robert, who had just arrived, to transfigure a chunk of the wall into a massive stone wall which promptly fell onto the downed Death Eater.

Frank was by Edgar's side as they watched Vanessa fall – unconscious or dead – to a curse cast by either of Thorfinn Rowle and Bruce Avery.

Edgar was looking aghast at the loss of his wife, as he stopped fighting and almost dropped his wand as he ran toward her. Frank could see Avery lining up yet another shot at the pair and dismissed the two Death Devourers with a well placed banishing charm that knocked Rowle and Avery out with a massive concussion. He transfigured them into two large blocks of wood and shrunk them before putting them into his pocket.

"She'll be alright Ed," Frank assured his friend.

Edgar wouldn't respond. Frank turned the older man around physically, grasped him by the shoulders and shook him. "Bloody f-ing hell, Ed, snap out of it! Vanessa's still got breath. Let's move her while we can still help her, fool!"

When Edgar would still not move, Frank groaned and stunned his friend, said friend's wife and portkeyed off to Longbottom Hall himself.

Longbottom Hall had suddenly turned into a makeshift infirmary. The Death Eaters had suffered a massive loss that day. With Rowle and Avery arrested, Dolohov and Greyback, and Gunter dead, they had lost five of their bigger names. This ensured that the mood inside Longbottom Hall was upbeat. Once Aaron and Vanessa had both been administered first aid (the curse had destroyed Vanessa's chances of ever having another baby, but she'd live), Charlus and Dorea had interrogated Edgar, who had understood the need of the coven, and had in turn summoned Robert, Sylvia (Robert's wife), and Amelia as well, the siblings proving their allegiances under the effect of the powerful substance.

"I can't take Veritaserum," Sylvia stuttered. It was the absolute conversation stopper. "I'd rather take the oath, please." She looked at Alice and Lily in turn with a pleading expression. The two ladies' eyes widened in slight surprise and understanding.

"Oath it is for Syl," Alice promptly decided.

And so Sylvia Bones took the oath to prove her loyalty. Once disorder and noise had been restored, Sylvia thanked the two ladies. "Well, the little Longbottom and little Potter will be playmates to the little Bones," she confirmed.

Lily let out a low squeal as she attempted to hug Sylvia as tightly as she could.

With the twins, the Boneses, Coldword, Taylor, Remus, Sirius, and Vance in the clear, only Ralph Mason, Althea Brigham, Marlene McKinnon and Daphne Milner were still left. At this point, Frank and James started the second part of the plan. They made a document listing those trusted to the coven. Just in case whatever plan Moody was hatching ended up with one or more of the Longbottoms and/or Potters being killed, this document would appear directly to Crouch, the Head of the DMLE. This would ensure both the custody of the children, if the problem occurred after the babies were born, and the freedom of those trusted – ensuring that nobody would frame anyone on the document falsely. They set about casting a wide variety of protective spells and triggering spells on the document. It was going to be one of their biggest secrets during the war.

Once the Boneses had been reasonably patched up enough that they could be taken to St. Mungo's, Dorea and Sirius started going over their plan for Sirius' meeting with Arcturus. Apart from reining in the insane cousin Bellatrix, the meeting would go a long way towards protecting Regulus and Narcissa, and Andromeda's position, as well as eliminating the support of the House of Black to Voldemort.

All in all, within just eighteen hours of the Prophecy being given, things had moved into directions that neither Dumbledore nor anyone among the coven had imagined. That said, though, it wasn't a bad direction that they were marching in. The day had been very productive, even though their plan to get through to all the people on the lists had been scuppered by the attack on the Boneses.