Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

Harry was sitting alone in his room at #4 Privet Drive. He had been sitting there for a while now. It was Yule break of his fifth year, and he had been sent home to ‘relieve’ him from the torments of Umbridge. He was supposed to have gone to Sirius’s house, but Dumbledore had wanted him to go and connect with his family, or some such rot. That had not worked out well for him.

The Weasleys were at St. Mungo’s after he had saved Mr. Weasley from Nagini. They were supposed to have come and rescued him from this torture, but he had not heard from them. He was at his wits end. He had not heard from Sirius either.

Now, he had been locked in there for some misaligned punishment or another. Vernon had locked him in there five days ago. He was being fed through the cat flap again. However, the food stopped three days ago. He had water from some bottles he had stored up just for this purpose.

There had been some rumor in the news about a virus going around, but the Dursleys had ignored it. They had gone about their lives as normal. Not that it would have been any different if they had listened, Harry found out later.

Now, the quiet was unnerving. He hadn't heard anybody say anything for two days now. Three days ago, he had heard the coughing. Two days ago, it was quiet. He had started shouting two hours ago. Nobody answered.

“Come on, answer! Somebody, please!” he shouted through the door one more time. He slammed his fist on the wood and kicked it for good measure. Finally, he gave up and used magic. Bugger the Statute of Secrecy. Casting the unlocking spell on the door, he opened the door and went into the house.

He went down the stairs and saw Vernon, Petunia and Dudley all sitting in front of the TV dead. They look like they've been dead for two days now. They were pale white and frozen solid. They were all wrapped up in blankets looking like they were trying to bundle up against the cold. Like they each had the flu and were trying to stave off the fever.

“Shite,” he said as he ran to the phone to call 999. But when he got there, he picked up the receiver and found that there was no dial tone. “Shite,” he said again, slamming down the receiver. He was confused about that, since there should have been one. The electricity was still on, so there should have been a tone. However, the phone was dead.

He ran outside and noticed that there was no noise out there either. There were no cars, no people, and funnily enough, no birds. There were no dogs or cats running about either. It was eerily quiet.

He ran back inside and noticed that the person on the news looked a little ragged and was reporting that the virus had spread throughout the UK and that the population had been reduced to 22% of itself. It had come so swiftly, and it was deadly. It killed within 24 hours of contact. Only a rare few were immune. A Happy Christmas indeed. There was even Christmas music playing in the background, which was just morose.

“Shite,” he said again, watching with morbid fascination.

He didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't know who was alive and who wasn't. Was Hermione alive? Was Ron? Was his family? Was Sirius? Was anybody that he knew alive? He didn’t know, but he was going to find out.

He ran back upstairs and started frantically writing letters. He needed to know if anybody was alive. They needed to get together so that they could survive. He wrote five letters. One to Hermione, one to Sirius, one to Ron, one to Dumbledore, and one to the ministry. He attached them to Hedwig and sent her on her way.

Then he went downstairs and started planning. He didn't know what he was going to do with his relatives. He was too small to move them. They were all so fat, bar Petunia, but she was an adult. So, he used the levitation charm and put them out in the backyard. He wanted to burn them, but he didn't want to deal with the smoke. At least they weren't zombies. That would have been a nightmare.

He went back into the house and took note of what kind of food was left in the house. There was a lot of junk food. There wasn't much of what would be called normal food. Well, there was, and thank goodness it was all in cans. The feast from Christmas dinner was still in the refrigerator, so he had some of that. He hadn’t been invited to partake in the meal itself, but it was delicious now. There was duck, ham, turkey and the many side dishes. Petunia never left anything out when she cooked for her men.

At least the electricity and the gas were still on, so there was that, though he didn't know how much longer that would be with the population reduced down to 22% of what it was.

Vernon checked the garage for a camp stove. Although he wasn't into camping, he wanted to be prepared if the power went out. He found a propane stove with a nearly full tank, likely used by Dudley. There was also a large tent and a fishing pole, which he took. The garage didn't have much other survival gear since Vernon wasn't great at gathering things.

He took what he could find back into the house and put it with the non-perishable food. He would hole up here and stay hidden as long as he could. He found Vernon’s shotgun and barricaded himself into the kitchen.

Hphphp

It took a day and a half for Hedwig to come back. The only person who answered him was Sirius.

Harry,

Don't move from where you are, I will come to you.

Sirius

Was all the note said.

Harry was very thankful that there was at least somebody that was alive. And he was also glad that it was an adult. As much as he loved Hermione, he didn't think she would be useful in a time like this. No, that's not true. She would be very useful in a time like this, but he was still thankful it was an adult that was around. He was very sad that she did not answer him. He did not know if that meant that she was dead, or alive and just too far away for Hedwig to find. He recalled that she was supposed to be in France for the holiday. Maybe Hedwig just couldn't find her.

He heard on the news that the virus was worldwide. He hoped that she wasn't as alone as he was. She was a smart girl though, she would know what to do. He hoped.

He got a note from the ministry telling him that they had it all under control. He scoffed at it and burned it. Those idiots wouldn’t know what to do if they had a guide. He had no idea why he had written to them in the first place. He must have had a brain fart.

The smell from the backyard was getting to be too much, so he banished his relatives’ bodies to wherever banished items go. He thought the cold weather would have kept them ‘fresh’, but it was unseasonably warm this year.

Sirius must have followed Hedwig because he was there shortly after she showed up.

There was a pounding on the door, and Harry cautiously went there and asked, “Who’s there.” He didn’t trust anyone at the moment. He wasn’t a trustful bloke to begin with.

“Harry, it’s me,” Sirius said from the other side. Harry could hear the relief in the man’s tone.

“Sirius?” Harry said, swinging open the door and slamming into the other man. “I thought I was the only one alive,” he cried into the other man's shoulder. He hung on for dear life. He had been alone too long. He was so scared but hiding it under a tough exterior. Even from himself. The horrors he had been through this year were bad enough, he really didn’t trust many people, but Sirius was one of them.

“I thought I was too,” Sirius said, clinging to his godson. He would have come sooner, but he was caught up in trying to see who else was alive. He thought Harry was safe here. He had no idea that the muggles were affected.  He thought it was only the wizarding world that was dying.

“What are we going to do? Everybody else is dead,” the younger man asked, looking at him with such hopeful eyes.

“First, we don’t know if everyone else is dead, so we're going to find out who else is alive, and then we're going to band together and do what we can to survive. What have you been doing here?” he asked, guiding his godson back into the house.

“Mostly just gathering things I think we need to survive. We can't stay here. I don't want to stay in my relatives’ house,” Harry said, leading him into the kitchen. He showed him all the canned goods, the can opener, the fishing pole and the propane stove.

“What's that?” asked Sirius as he saw the stove.

So Harry proceeded to explain to him what the stove was and how it worked.

“Harry, we're magical. We can create fire.” He laughed at the poleaxed look on Harry’s face. Sometimes he forgot that his godson was new to magic.

“Oh, right,” said Harry, looking sheepish. He felt like an idiot. Of course, they could use magic. He had been thinking just that all along. Why hadn’t he thought of fire.

“Don't worry about it, kid. It was a smart idea. Who knows, we might need it someday. Keep it. You were smart to keep all these canned goods, though. I can put a stasis charm on the other food as well. Plus, we might need to go around to the other houses and pick up what they have there too. I'll make a non-detectable expandable bag. We'll put as much as we can in it,” his godfather said, looking over the cans and seeing a lot of stuff he’d never heard of before. That was okay, if Harry said they were edible, then he’d eat them.

“I'm not sure I feel comfortable going around raiding my neighbors’ houses,” the teen said, uncomfortably. They weren’t nice to him, but they’d be there. Dead more than likely. All sitting or laying about. Just dead. It was unnerving.

“They're dead, Harry. They're not using it. It's just going to sit there and rot or be used by other people who are not as amenable as we are,” Sirius said, trying to be reasonable.

“Do you think there's going to be bad people coming around?” the teen asked, hoping that that wasn’t true. He was hoping the Dark Lord was dead and that part of his life was over. It was bad enough that a large part of the world was destroyed, he didn’t need Voldemort still after him.

“Trust me, there are going to be some very violent people showing up very soon. They're going to be magical and non-magical. Situations like this bring out the worst in people. It is the survival of the fittest. I'm sure there are some Death Eaters out there that are still around. And they're going to use this opportunity to sow chaos,” Sirius said, picking up the can opener and playing with it. He had seen it before with Lily and she had explained what it was and what it was for.

“Oh, I didn't think of that,” Harry said, despondent. He wasn’t happy to hear that.

“That's all right, that's what you have me for. So why don't you go and get some clothes. Don't worry about your trunk. Put them in the backpack and only take what you can carry,” was Sirius’s suggestion. He was giving him busy work to get his mind off what was going on.

“All right, Sirius,” Harry said as he rushed upstairs to grab what few clothes he had that fit, and shoved them in a backpack. He left all his schoolbooks and most of his things. He might regret that later, but for now he only took what he could carry.

Including his invisibility cloak, not that it would do him much good now. There was no one to hide from. Ron had his Marauder’s Map. He had wanted to borrow it to keep an eye on things at Hogwarts for some reason. Something to do with Malfoy being a git. There were a few other trinkets that he added, but mostly it was just clothes. 

Meanwhile, downstairs, Sirius looked around and grabbed whatever he thought that they could use. He conjured his own backpack and made it an undetectable expandable bag and started shoving all the food in it. Soon enough, the entire cupboard was cleared out of all the junk food, all the vegetables, and all the fruits that he could shove in there. He then started on the refrigerator and freezer, putting a stasis charm on all that food. The Dursleys were well stocked with food, that was for sure. Soon enough, all the kitchen was stuffed in that bag.

“I'm done, Sirius,” said Harry as he came down the stairs. “Why don't you let me make us some dinner before we head out? I have an idea, why don't we stay here the night, and I could make us breakfast in the morning, and we can head out then? We might as well use up some of this food before it goes bad.” He thought that was a better idea than traveling at night.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea, Harry. Well, I’ve put it all in the bag, but I’ll pull some out,” he said, explaining the stasis charm and pulling out some of the food.

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” Harry said, once again feeling foolish. He really needed to start thinking like a wizard.

Harry prepared dinner. It consisted of meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy, and some vegetables. During the meal, they discussed their plan to return to Grimmauld Place by clearing out all the houses in between. Grimmauld Place was still under the Fidelius Charm. Sirius suggested that since it was protected by the charm, those who were alive and aware of the enchantment would be able to locate it.

“That's an excellent idea, Sirius, but I'm not sure we should stay in one place for too long. I want to go out and find people,” Harry said, his ‘saving people thing’ kicking in. He wondered if they would find anyone in the houses they were going to ‘clean’ out.

“We'll stay there for a month and then we'll see about going out and finding other people,” his godfather said in way of compromise. He didn’t want to walk about the streets of London in this new world. It might be dangerous. They would stick to the residential areas and clear out the houses of food.

“I think a month might be too long. There might be people out there who need our help. We're magical, we can help the non-magical people,” Harry said, tapping his finger on the table in emphasis.

“What about the Statute of Secrecy?” was the question. It was a good one that any pureblood would ask. Even a rebel like Sirius.

“Bugger that. They will need our help,” Harry stated firmly.

“Why do you say that?” Sirius asked, not seeing where Harry was coming from. He didn’t have a ‘saving people thing’.

“These people need our help, and we have the means to help them. Don't you want to help those in need? This is the end of the earth. We need as many people alive as possible,” Harry said, thinking that they needed to band together to get a community going if they were going to survive as a people.

“I see your point. I guess if I'm going to get any... never mind. But in order to repopulate, we're going to need as many people alive as possible. All right, we'll stay a week and then we'll leave a message for people to find us. Are we staying in England?” he asked, taking the last bite of his meatloaf and getting up to put his plate in the sink. He missed his house elf already. Kreacher hadn’t survived the virus.

“For now, until we get a big enough group and then we'll move to the continent. There will be more people there,” Harry said, thinking that the population was greater there.

“All right, Harry. We'll do it your way for now. Have you tried to contact anybody else?” he asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with some milk from his backpack. He offered Harry some, but Harry shook his head no.

“Yeah, I wrote the Weasleys and Hermione and Dumbledore. I haven't heard from any of them.”

“Well, I don't know about Hermione or the Weasleys. But I'm pretty sure Dumbledore didn't make it,” Sirius said, some sadness in his tone. He liked the old man well enough, but he was a bit upset with him as well. It was personal, and now that he was sure the man was dead, it was upsetting even more. He would never be able to vent his spleen.

“Well, that's sad to hear,” Harry said, tears welling up in his eyes. He loved that old man. He was mad at him some for sending him here, but he didn’t want him dead.

“He was an old man, Harry. I wouldn't grieve over him too much,” Sirius said, putting his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“He was like a grandfather to me,” Harry bit out in anger. Who did Sirius think he was telling him how to feel?

“How could he possibly be like a grandfather to you? You barely knew the man,” Sirius asked, a bit put out that Harry would snap at him.

“One could say I barely know you too, but you're like an uncle to me,” stated Harry emphatically. He was quick to love. He knew that, and when he did, he felt deeply.

“Harry, you don't even know what a good family feels like. I should know, I'm much the same way. Why are you latching on to people as if they were relatives?” Sirius asked, looking at the teen with much confusion. He didn’t love nearly as deeply as Harry seemed to. He tended to hold people at arm’s length.

“I've always wanted a big family,” Harry said, a bit awkwardly. He couldn’t really explain why he grabbed on to people and held on. He didn’t have many friends, but he held tight to those he did have. “I’ll love who I want.”

“I guess I understand that,” Sirius said, slowly. He didn’t really, but he’d let the boy have it. “I've always wanted to get away from my big family.” He ran from his family the first chance he got.

“I guess we just went in opposite directions emotionally,” Harry said with a shrug. He was still upset over the fact that Dumbledore and possibly Ron and his family were dead. It was a great blow to deal with. This was too much at once. He had had a few days, but he had been in survival mode. Now that Sirius was here, he was allowed to feel, and he was getting all emotional.

“All right, Harry, you grieve your way. I'm not going to tell you how to mourn,” Sirius said, squeezing his shoulder and then stepping away. He drank his milk and put the glass in the sink.

“Thank you, Sirius. Do you think we should head to Hogwarts and see who survived there?” Harry asked, suddenly thinking of that.

“That is actually a great idea,” Sirius said, getting excited.

“Most of them will have gone home to their families, don't you think? Or that might be a great gathering point for those who survived,” Harry said, thinking most parents might go there instead. He knew that Umbridge had caused many people to go home, but there would have been quite a few still there.

“I think we should stick to my plan first, and make Hogwarts our second priority,” Sirius said, running a hand over his goatee.

“All right, Sirius,” Harry said, going over the plan in his head. It did sound plausible.

“Come on, eat up then we’ll head to bed,” Sirius said, wanting to get a good head start in the morning. They were going to clear as many houses as possible.

“All right, Sirius,” Harry said, finishing off his meal and then putting his plate in the sink. He then watched Sirius set the dishes to wash themselves. He knew he was right, and that magic was going to help a lot of people in the end.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

They woke up the next morning and started the day with a hearty breakfast. Sirius set the dishes to wash again, and Harry was once again impressed. He really needed to learn that spell. After the dishes were done, they decided to leave the house. They went to the next-door neighbor's house and emptied the cupboards and put it in the non-detectable expanded bag. They made sure to get the refrigerator and the freezer too. Making sure to get all the food that was in the house. It took them the better part of a half an hour.

It creeped Harry out because the neighbors were there, and they were dead. Like the Dursleys, they were wrapped up like they had the flu and were huddled in front of their TV set. This time, Harry left them alone and just raided their kitchen.

Harry swallowed hard and glanced away, rubbing his arm nervously. “Is this what we're going to find in every house?” he asked Sirius, gesturing to the dead people.

“Probably,” said the dogman, grimacing as he averted his eyes from the unsettling scene. He reached out and gently nudged Harry toward the hallway, steering them away from the lifeless figures.

Harry shivered. “It's really creepy,” he muttered, and it really was. They were just sitting there, like they would get up any minute and go about their lives.

“This is what the virus did,” said Sirius, trying to be pragmatic as he closed the neighbor’s curtains with a sharp tug. “It just killed without cause.”

“Still…” the teen said shuddering.

“Hopefully, we'll find somebody alive,” said Sirius, going to the front door. They were done here. There was nothing left to do. 

“I thought you didn't want to find anybody,” said Harry, following hot on his heels. He didn’t want to see this family anymore. He remembered them. They were not nice to him when they were alive. The kid was one of the ones that picked on him when he was younger and just ignored him as a teenager.

Sirius went to the next house and tried the door. It was locked so he used the unlocking charm and opened the door. They went inside and found no one there, thank Merlin. Probably went to their relatives for the holidays. Who knows they might be alive.

“I thought about it last night, and I decided that you were right. We need to find some people alive if we're going to survive as a human race,” his godfather said. They went to the kitchen and started putting the food in the backpack.

“Well, I'm glad you agree with me,” said Harry, using his wand to guide the stuff from the pantry into the sack. Sirius was putting a stasis on the cold food, so he got the non-perishables. They worked in silence for a while.

After they were done, Sirius said, “Come on, let's get to the next house. I want to get as many done as possible before we get to Grimmauld Place.”  He then moved to the door and went to the next house.

“I hope most of my neighbors went to their relatives for the holidays,” Harry mused, wishing that most of the houses were empty like this one. “That way I can think of them alive.”

With that, they went from house to house and raided the kitchens but left everything else alone. All they really wanted was food. They lucked out and over half of them were empty. The ones that weren’t were like the Dursleys’, the families were sat in front of the TV. It was bizarre. It was as if it were prearranged. Some of the occupants were in their beds, but they didn’t go to the bedrooms, so they never saw them.

“Hey, Sirius,” said Harry, when they were in their tenth house, “do you think we should try and appropriate a farm?” It was a thought that had just come to him. Even with all the food they were getting, it was going to run out eventually. And they weren’t going to be able to get more. A renewable food source was going to be needed. Didn’t Hogwarts grow its own food? He’d have to ask.

“Do you know anything about farming?” was the comeback question.

“No, now that I think about it,” was the sheepish answer.

“Well, it is a sound idea. However, neither one of us know anything about taking care of animals, so it would be a negate point,” Sirius pointed out as he put some frozen food in his backpack. He looked at his godson with pride. He hadn’t thought about that, and it was a good idea.  “Until we find somebody who could take care of animals, we would just mess things up. Do you know anything about tending crops?” he asked, looking at the city boy and smiling to take the bite out of the question.

“I see your point,” said Harry, despondent. He was so sure it was a good idea, but now that he thought about it, he’d just mess it up. He was envisioning dead crops and animals everywhere.

“I'll tell you what, do you know a house elf?” Sirius asked, knowing that the house elves would be able to tend to a farm. Well, some of them would.

“I do know one, but I don't know if he's alive,” Harry said, getting excited.

“Why don't you call him and see if he is?” was the suggestion.

“Dobby.”

They waited a few seconds and in popped a small house elf. He was dressed in some toddlers’ clothes of the colorful variety. There were trains on the trousers that were chugging along the cuffs. “Harry Potter, sir, is alive,” said the small house elf as he latched onto Harry's leg.

“Dobby, it is great to see you,” Harry said, hugging the elf back.  “I'm so happy you're alive.”

“Dobby is being very happy to see you too, sir,” Dobby said, standing back and bouncing on his spindly feet.

Harry put his hand on Dobby’s shoulder to hold him still. “Dobby, I have a few questions to ask you,” he said, looking him straight in the eye.  “Do you know anything about raising farm animals or crops?” he asked, hoping that he did.

Dobby’s shoulders drooped. He was disappointed that he didn’t know something that his friend wanted him to. “Dobby is not being knowing, sir. But Dobby is knowing other house elves that do know.”

“That's great, Dobby. Are they alive?” Harry asked, thinking that this could work.

“Dobby is not being knowing, sir,” the elf said, getting happy again that he could be useful, “but Dobby can find out.” He started bouncing again. He knew that a lot of the elves died with the virus, but they were hardier than the humans and 50% of them lived. So there was a chance that some of his acquaintances could still be around.

“Would you do that for me, Dobby?” Harry asked, smiling at his exuberant friend.

“Dobby will be doing that right away.”

Harry smiled at Dobby and squeezed his shoulder. “That's great, Dobby,” he said, and took his hand off his shoulder.  “Come back and find me when you can, and we'll go over the logistics.”

“Dobby will do that.” And with that, Dobby popped away to do what he needed to do.

“OK. So, we've got a plan. Dobby's going to go find out if there's any house elves that can tend to farm, and then we can appropriate one and we'll have farm animals and crops. And the house elves can tend to them while we go about obtaining as much food as we possibly can,” Harry said, puffing his chest proudly at a plan well played.

“That was a very smart idea,” said Sirius, smiling at his godson. He liked that Dobby elf. He was an excitable one.

“It was your idea,” said Harry, smirking at him.

“Which is why I said it was a smart one,” said Sirius, giving him his own smirk.

“Okay, wise guy.”

“Come on, I want to get as many houses done as we can. Let's go,” said Sirius, picking up the much used backpack and starting to the next house. They hadn’t found anyone alive yet, but there were a lot of empty houses here. Most of the neighbors must have visited their families for the holidays. Or they were dead in their beds or hiding from them. They didn’t know, they just didn’t see anyone.

So, the two of them went to as many houses on Privet Drive in the surrounding areas as they could before darkness hit. Over fifty houses were emptied out and it was grueling work, even with magic.

Hphphp

It was well after dark by the time they got back to Grimmauld Place, but they had hit many of the houses and the non-detectable expandable bag was well packed. Both of them were very exhausted by the time they got there and were well ready for a very big dinner.

“I wonder if Dobby has time to cook us anything,” said Harry as he flopped into a chair in the kitchen. It was dark in the house and without Kreacher there, there was no tea or food cooking. It was still a dark and creepy house, with its peeling wallpaper and dusty interior. The kitchen was the only clean room in the house.

“He hasn't gotten back to you yet, so I'm thinking he's probably busy,” said Sirius as he too sat down at the table. He sat the backpack on the table next to him and put his head in his arms and rested.  It had been a grueling day; the dead were not something he was going to forget anytime soon. He was sure that people had hidden from him and Harry, there had to have been. Not all of that neighborhood could have died. It wasn’t possible.

“You're right, I probably shouldn't bother him until he gets done with what I gave him to do. I'll cook dinner,” said Harry as he looked tiredly at the stove. He looked like he’d rather cut off his middle finger than cook.

Sirius raised his head and patted the backpack. “There's plenty of stuff in here that just needs heating up. Why don't I just pull some of that out and use magic?” To him that was the most logical thing to do.

“That's actually a great idea,” said the teenager. It was better than takeout. Just wave a wand and poof, instant meal. He loved magic.

With that Sirius pulled out one of the many preprepared dishes that they had appropriated from one of the many houses and he heated it up and put it on the table and the two of them commenced eating. After they finished eating their mystery casserole and Sirius set the dishes to wash, they went to the study and sat to discuss what they were going to do next.

With that, Sirius rummaged through the well-packed bag, pulling out one of the many preprepared dishes they’d scavenged earlier. With a quick flick of his wand, the casserole heated up, sending savory aromas wafting through the kitchen. Harry set the table, moving with slow, tired gestures, while Sirius portioned out the food. They dug in, eating hungrily, barely speaking except for the occasional grunt of satisfaction. When their plates were empty, Sirius whisked the dishes to the sink with another wave of his wand and the sound of clattering crockery echoed through the otherwise silent house.

Pushing back his chair, Harry stretched, groaning at the stiffness in his muscles. Sirius grabbed the backpack and slung it over one shoulder, leading the way out of the kitchen. The two moved quietly through the darkened hallway, Sirius checking behind them as they made their way to the study. Once there, they both collapsed into the armchairs, Harry propping his feet up on a battered ottoman, as they prepared to talk through their next steps.

“Do you know how to do the Patronus charm?” asked Harry as he sipped on a butterbeer. He felt better now that he had a hot meal in him. He was less tired and more relaxed.

“I can't do it,” said Sirius sadly. He sipped on his firewhiskey. He hated that he couldn’t cast that spell. He loved the Patronus charm. It was a beautiful piece of magic.

That shocked Harry and he asked, “Whyever not?”

“I don't have any happy memories,” said Sirius, looking depressed.

“None?” asked Harry, feeling bad for his godfather. He would have thought that he had some good memories from meeting him, or Remus, over the last two years.

“Let me reiterate, since Azkaban, I don't have any happy enough memories,” the dogman stated, emphasizing the needed words.

“Oh, I understand,” said Harry, nodding his understanding. You needed some really good happy memories, and Sirius’s time in prison would have put paid to that. “Well, I can do the Patronus charm, but I can't send messages with it. Do you know how to do that, and can you teach me?” he asked, having a plan or two.

“That I can do,” said Sirius, knowing the steps on how to do that. He could go over the basics and see if he could talk the teen through it.

And with that, Sirius leaned forward, gesturing for Harry to focus. He demonstrated the precise wrist movement and incantation, his voice low but firm. Harry watched intently, then took a deep breath and attempted the charm himself. Silvery light sparked at the tip of his wand, growing brighter as Harry concentrated on his happiest memories. The stag burst forth, ethereal and strong, and Harry quickly whispered his message.

The Patronus cantered off, streaming out the study window and into the night. Harry followed its path with his eyes, heart pounding, while Sirius paced restlessly around the armchairs, running a hand through his hair. As the echoes of magic faded, Harry sagged back, hope and nerves mingling. He just prayed it wasn’t Umbridge who would receive the message—if so, things could get complicated, fast.

“What did you go and do that for?” Sirius asked, not thinking that had been a good idea.

“I just wanted to let them know that I was still alive,” said Harry, his brow scrunching up in confusion. That and if Dumbledore was still alive, he’d message back. He still had hope that the man had made it.

Sirius was shaking his head in the negative. “Yeah, but if it's Umbridge, she’ll know where you are.”

Harry crossed his arms, glancing toward the window as if daring Umbridge to appear. “What’s she going to do? She can’t get here,” he pointed out.

“There is that. But still, she could make your life a living hell,” Sirius said, though he wasn’t sure how. He paced to the window, peering out into the darkness as if expecting to see trouble materialize at any moment.

“Well, let's just hope that the bitch is dead,” Harry said with a great deal of force. He didn’t wish a lot of people dead, but that woman was one that he wish to the greatest pits of hell. “And even if she's not, let's hope McGonagall is still alive.”

“I don't think even McGonagall could keep her in line,” Sirius said, tearing that hope down.

Harry flopped back into his chair, arms crossed with a wry smile. “You know, with only 22% of the population being alive, I don't think you're going to be a sought-after man anymore. And even if you are, there's not going to be much of a government to put you on trial,” he said, tapping his fingers on the armrest as if challenging fate to prove him wrong.

Sirius glanced toward the fireplace, then walked over to grab his wand from the mantelpiece, slipping it into his pocket with a determined look. “I'm not sure I want to take that chance,” he said, thinking he’d better be a bit more cautious.

“It's something to think about,” said Harry, shrugging his shoulder. Then again, this was the magical government he was thinking about. They were sticklers for creating trouble. Fudge would arrest anyone for anything.

“I will think about it,” said Sirius, giving his own shrug. “But I'm going to keep my wand on hand.” He wasn’t going to take any chances. If anyone tried to arrest him, he was going down fighting. He wasn’t going back to Azkaban.

“Of course,” said Harry, smiling at his godfather. “I wouldn’t ask you to put your life on the line. I’ll fight to keep you free,” he added, making sure the man knew he was on his side.

Just then, with a sharp pop and a flurry of movement, Dobby appeared in the middle of the room, nearly causing Sirius to drop his wand. The little elf bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, his ears quivering with anticipation. “Dobby is being doing it, Master Harry!” he cried, his voice ringing through the air.

“What did you do, Dobby?” Harry asked, warily. Dobby’s idea of helping in the past almost got him killed a time or two.

“Dobby is finding elves that is being in charge of a farm. There is being no masters alive, so Dobby is taking charge of the farm for you. There is being many farms that is being vacant, so Dobby is being taking charge of all of them,” Dobby stated, looking proud of himself. He snapped his fingers, and a glowing, floating ledger materialized in midair, its pages fluttering open to reveal a list of newly claimed properties and their locations.

That confused the hell out of Harry. How did Dobby do that? He didn’t have any money. “How did you do that, Dobby? I mean, you don't have any money to buy these farms. How did you get them?” he asked, taking Dobby by the arms so that he stopped bouncing and paid attention to him. The ledger fluttered to the ground and landed with a thud.

“Dobby is being using magic,” the elf said, like he was speaking to a toddler. Dobby snapped his fingers, and the ledger disappeared again. He would show it to his friend when he was in a better frame of mind.

“I don't understand.”

“Dobby is being using elf magic. Dobby is being making claim for his master,” the little elf said, slowly and clearly.

“I still don't understand, but I'm going to take your word for it, Dobby,” Harry said, smiling at the elf.  “Do I need to give you money for these farms?” he asked, reaching for his coin purse. He didn’t think money was going to be any good soon, but maybe gold would still hold value. It never seemed to lose it.

“Oh, no, Master Harry, sir, they is being yours. All yours,” Dobby reiterated like he was giving him the world, which he might as well have been. Those farms will be invaluable.

“OK, well, I'm leaving you in charge of them. Uh, we're going to need fresh vegetables and meat and eggs and all the things that come from a farm. I plan on starting a community at some point in time, so there's going to be a lot of people to feed,” Harry said, explaining to the elf why they needed those farms.

“Dobby is looking forward to that,” Dobby said, getting excited about serving Harry Potter’s community.

“Well, it looks like things are starting to come together beautifully,” said Sirius, marveling at how well that worked, hoping the rest of it went just as well.

“It looks like it. Let's just hope it stays that way,” said Harry, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Just then a Patronus came through the wall.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

The Patronus was a cute little otter, and it opened its mouth and said,

Mr. Potter, I am glad to hear that you are okay. We will receive you when you come. I am sad to say that many are dead, but there are some that are alive. Please, message us back when you have a chance.

The voice was that of Professor Flitwick's. It was squeaky and soft. It sounded delighted to hear from him, all things considered.

“I guess that means that he's the highest-ranking professor alive,” said Harry, not sure how he felt about that. He really didn’t know the professor that well. He liked him as a teacher, but didn’t know him as a person. He seemed cheerful enough, but was he ready to be in charge of Hogwarts?

“I guess so. I wonder if that means that McGonagall is dead,” said Sirius, rubbing his goatee in thought. He was going over what he knew of the current ranking of the teachers in Hogwarts. He didn’t know it that well. He knew Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and then that was it. He knew Umbridge was up there, but that was only this year. He didn’t know where she fell in the hierarchy.

“Probably,” said Harry as he too went over what he knew of the pecking order.  “That's too bad. I guess that means Dumbledore is dead too, like you said.” He mourned a bit over that. He had already grieved some, but it really hadn’t caught up with him yet. There were just so many dead. It was going to hit him hard soon.

“I didn't think he'd make it through it. He was rather old, and it was a very bad virus. McGonagall too, now that I think about it,” Sirius said, getting a thoughtful look on his face.

“Still, I thought he would. He was a tough old man,” the teenager said, rubbing the tears from his eyes. This was not the time to cry. He needed to be strong. There was too much to do. He was still getting over the fact that the Weasleys had not answered his letter. Were they dead? Or were they trying to find a place to stay? Would they come here? Was it too much to hope that the whole family survived?

“Let's stick to the plan and wait here for a couple days, see if anybody shows up. Can you send a Patronus to Remus?” the dogman asked, hoping his friend would have made it, but not really thinking he had. Remus would have been here by now if he was alive. The werewolf would have come here second thing. He would have gone to Tonks first. He was sure of it.

“Sure.” With that Harry sent a Patronus off to Remus and Tonks. He added Tonks at the request of Sirius. The dogman figured that if one was there, the other would be close by.

Sirius and Harry sorted the canned goods they had collected, placing soon-to-expire items at the front and longer-lasting ones at the back. It was tedious work since they had many cans after visiting over 50 houses.

“I know we got quite a bit, but once we hit Hogwarts this is going to go quite fast. There's going to be a lot of mouths to feed,” Harry said as he put some of the creamed corn with the rest of the like. They were sorting like with like, and it was monotonous.

“Hogwarts has its own food source,” said Sirius, looking at a can of carrots like they would bite him. He tossed them with the rest and picked up some mushed peas, checked the date and sorted it.

“I was wondering about that,” said Harry, grabbing the next can and sorting it.  “How do they feed themselves?” On and on it went with the cans.

“Well, they have a garden patch, and I think there's a farm in Hogsmeade that supplies the meat,” his godfather stated, thinking about what he knew of the food chain at the school. He remembered trying to prank it as a teen, but it was well guarded.

“Oh”, said Harry.

“And as you saw, some of the house elves made it through the virus, so they have their own workforce, so we don't have to worry about that.” Not that Harry would have to worry about it anyway. That was the teachers’ concern.

Harry pondered on that for a moment. He was concerned about the other creatures and nonhumans. “I wonder if any of the other nonhuman magicals made it through too. I mean like the goblins and such. I wonder if they were affected,” he said, putting his thoughts to words.

“Well, from what I've seen all the animals were affected,” Sirius said, noting that they had seen many dead house cats and dogs. “So, I'm going to assume they were too. If not, we're in big trouble.” His brow furrowed with worry at his thoughts. He was envisioning some real issues that would pop up if the goblins came through unscathed.

“How do you mean?” Harry asked, tilting his head. He didn’t understand how they could be in more trouble than they were already.

“The goblins have been looking to rebel for years. They will use this as a means of opportunity,” was the answer.

That threw Harry for a loop. He didn’t want to think about that. “Do you mean they'll rebel against us?” was the shocked question.

“In a heartbeat,” Sirius said. He’d grown up on horror stories about the goblins rebelling and how it was always just around the corner.

“That's not good.”

“Not in the least.”

“What are we going to do?”

Sirius shrugged and said, “Let them. We have no choice. We're down to 22% of our population. We were outnumbered to begin with.” He looked around the room like there was something there that would explain it better. There wasn’t, so he looked back at Harry. “The only reason they won in the first place is because we were better than they were. Now that they might have the numbers against us, there's no way we could win. Especially now, that we're divided with us against the Death Eaters.” He shrugged his shoulder again and gave Harry a defeated look.

“This is not a good situation to be in,” his godson said, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t like the defeated look on his godfather. He needed Sirius to be strong and the man was giving up before he even started.

“I agree,” Sirius said, with a sigh.

Suddenly a wolf Patronus came through the wall. It was Tonks's.

Remus has gone feral. Dad didn’t make it. I'm making my way to you. I'll be there soon.

“Shite,” Sirius said with anger in his tone. He slammed his fist against the nearest table, the sharp sound echoing through the room. All his hopes of being reunited with his friend were dashed.

“Damn, I'm sorry to hear that, Sirius,” Harry said to his godfather, knowing that that was the last of his friends.

“Well, it was too much to hope that all of my friends would have made it through. I would have rather he died,” was the remorseful answer. Sirius ran a trembling hand through his hair, then crossed the room in a few quick strides to check the wards on the door, his movements tense and deliberate. This was not good news. If Remus was feral, he might come here and put them in danger.

“Still, I know he was one of your last friends from school,” Harry said, putting his hand on his godfather’s arm. He didn’t know Remus well, and the thought that the man had turned feral was scary.

“He was my last friend. I know nobody else. At least Tonks got away. She's one of the last relatives I know that knows that I'm innocent. I wonder if her mother made it. Andi is good people,” Sirius said, brightening a bit. Tonks and Andi would make a good addition to their group.

“Well, if she did, then she could invite her to come with us too,” Harry said, hoping that having family around would make Sirius happier, and get his head in the game.

“Send off a Patronus and tell Tonks to have her mother come with her,” his godfather demanded politely. He was still upset over Remus and wondered if all the werewolves went feral. Probably. If someone as gentle as Remus did, it was a guarantee that they all did.

“All right, Sirius.” And Harry proceeded to do just that.

“Thanks, Harry. you’re a good kid,” Sirius said, pulling him into a hug. He was getting close to his last nerve. He was glad Harry and Tonks were still alive. He hoped Andi was too.

“Of course.”

The two of them proceeded to organize the goods. Dobby arrived and assisted with the sorting, and soon they used magic to finish the task. They separated canned goods, placed frozen items in one bag, refrigerated items in another, and pre-made products in a different bag. It took most of the day to complete the sorting.

Tonks and her mother showed up around mid-afternoon. They would have been there sooner, but they decided to gather everything they needed to survive. They weren't going back to their home. They were alone. Everybody else had died or were as good as dead to them. They both looked like they had been in a fight. Their clothes were askew, and their hair was in disarray. Tonks sported some scratches on her arms, and one down her face.

“Andi, it's good to see you,” said Sirius, hugging his cousin. She looked like she had been crying. “I’m sorry it had to be under such circumstances,” he added, looking at her face showing his sympathy. 

“Sirius, you're looking good for a man who's on the run,” said Andi, proper as always. She did return the hug though.

“Yeah, well, I've had a good couple of years hiding out in this house,” he said, releasing her and standing back and looking at her.  “There's been nothing to do but eat and take care of myself.”

“Nymphadora tells me that you've been hiding here and being nothing but a vagabond. At least you've been staying out of trouble,” Andromeda said, straightening her blouse, she put down her bag and looked around the kitchen. She seemed to approve of all the food that they had yet to put away.

“I haven't had any choice in the matter,” said Sirius. He reached out, opening his arms in invitation. “Come here, Tonks,” he said, giving her a warm, reassuring hug.

Tonks came up to him and, overcome by grief, began to cry. Her dad was dead, and her boyfriend was feral. She wrapped Sirius in a tight hug and just bawled her eyes out, her shoulders shaking as he gently rubbed her back in an effort to comfort her.

Andromeda was holding it together by the skin of her teeth. She was a pureblood. She would not cry in front of other people.

“I can't believe he's feral,” said Tonks, her voice muffled by Sirius’s clothes. “He flipped so quickly. We were eating dinner, and he started coughing. He was fine one minute and the next he was a snarling mess. He attacked Dad. That’s how he died, Remus killed him,” she wailed, seeing the scene in her mind. “I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. Mum and I finally chased him away. We didn’t know what to do. We warded the house against werewolves, he’s been sniffing around for the last two days. Sirius, it’s been a nightmare.”

Andromeda placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she spoke. “We have been holed up in the house for the last two days,” she said, her voice steady but weary. She took a deep breath, then reached over to help Tonks remove her coat, dusting off a few leaves clinging to the sleeves. “We didn’t take time to clean or sleep. Only to eat and watch. He’s been scratching at the wards. We only just got away,” she finished, her hand trembling slightly as she set the coat aside.

“Dear Merlin, I can't believe it,” said Sirius. “The virus must have taken all that was human from him,” he speculated. That was all he could think of what must have happened. “Why didn’t you come here?” he asked, wondering why she didn’t run.

“I wasn’t thinking,” she confessed.

“I get that. I didn’t think to contact you either. Then again, I can’t do the Patronus,” he said, giving a throaty chuckle.

“We were going to get married,” she said, tears running down her face. She laughed a little. It was a wet laugh that tinged on hysteria.  “Did I tell you? He didn't know it yet, but we were going to,” she cried into his shoulder.

“I'm sure you would have found a way to convince him,” he said. He knew Tonks would have got the man to marry her. She was deeply in love with the werewolf. That was until he killed her father. Sirius didn’t think there was any coming back from that.

“Nymphadora, pull yourself together,” said Andromeda, trying not to be heartless. She didn't like the fact that an older man was chasing after her baby. Now that the werewolf had gone wolf and killed her husband, there was no way in hell that was going to happen.

“Come on, Andi, can't you see the girl is heartbroken?” said Sirius, upset over everything that was happening. Remus was his dearest friend and now he might be the one to put him down. If Remus came here to hurt them, Sirius would be the one to kill him. That was not something he wanted to do. He was going to have to put up some anti-werewolf wards.

“This is the end of the world, Sirius,” Andi snapped at her wits end. She had been through a lot in the last few days, she didn’t have the demeanor to coddle anyone.  “We need to pull it together. Now is not the time for a mental breakdown.”

“Bugger you and your pureblood upbringing,” Tonks said, but she did wipe her eyes and pull herself together. She did know that there were things that needed to be done. She could have her breakdown at night like a proper pureblood, for all that she was a half-blood.

“Well, now that we know that you two are alive, we need to know if others are too,” said Harry now that he knew that the emotional stuff was over. He didn't know these people. He had only met Tonks once, and he'd never met Andromeda. “We know there are some alive at Hogwarts.”

“I don't know anybody well enough for you to send messages to them. We can just simply wait and see if anybody shows up for a week and then we can all go to Hogwarts,” said Sirius, trying to think of anyone that they could message. Maybe Moody, but he was sure that old goat was dead too. He was old and gimpy. If he survived it would be a miracle.

“That sounds like a very good plan. I can send a Patronus or two out,” said Tonks, pulling her wand. She would send them to her coworkers and boss.

“Why don't you do that, and I'll get you and Andy set up in a room. There's a house elf, but it's not Kreacher. He did not survive the virus,” Sirius said, grabbing a bag and heading to the stairs.

Harry took one of Tonks’s and followed Sirius. Both Andi and Tonks grabbed the rest and did the same.

“Good, that decrepit old house elf needed to die anyway,” Tonks said, she hated the way that old elf talked to her.

“Nymphadora, what a thing to say,” chastised her mother. She taught her daughter better than that. House elves were not to be talked about like that. They were living, sentient beings and were to be respected.

“What? You never heard the way that elf talked to me. Always going on about half-bloods this, mudbloods that. It was despicable the way that elf talked,” Tonks said, making mimicking motions with her hands and face. She even morphed her nose to look like Kreacher’s.

“Still, that's no way to talk about the dead,” Andi said, looking at her daughter with some distaste.

“You would say the same thing if you ever heard the way that elf talked, Mrs. Tonks,” Harry said, coming to Tonks’s defense. “Kreacher was a vile elf. He was left on his own for far too long. He was an evil, evil creature.” He too was glad that that elf was dead.

“You didn't know, Andi. Leave it alone. I would have killed that elf myself if I was that type of person,” Sirius said, leading the way up the stairs. They were on the third floor now.

“Very well, I will drop it,” said Andi, following along and pursing her lips. She didn’t like it, but they were right. She hadn’t known the elf.

“Come on, let's get you two settled,” said Sirius, stopping at a door on the third floor.

With that, Sirius swiftly led Andromeda and Nymphadora down the hallway, opening doors and gesturing for them to choose whichever rooms they preferred. There was a flurry of footsteps as bags thudded onto beds and jackets were tossed over chairs. Once everyone was settled, they regrouped in the kitchen, the clatter of plates and the hum of conversation filling the air. Dobby bustled between them, setting out cutlery at lightning speed and beaming with pride to have more guests to serve. The four of them took their seats, passing around dishes and pouring drinks, the sense of movement and new beginnings settling over the house.

“What are your plans going forward?” asked Andromeda, picking at an unknown casserole. It had chicken and noodles with some carrots. There was a white sauce. It was good, but not something she would have cooked.

Sirius took a bite, chewed and swallowed. He took a drink of butterbeer and then said, “Like I said, we're going to go to Hogwarts after about a week and make plans from there. Harry wants to go to the continent and make a community there. He thinks there's going to be more people there.” He smiled at his godson with pride.

“He's probably right,” Andi said, thinking about it.  “There's a higher concentration of people on the continent.” She dabbed at her lips with a napkin.

“That and it will be away from the Death Eaters,” said Tonks, wanting to be away from England. Remus would be here, and she wanted to get away from here.

“There's still going to be a lot of bad people there and the Death Eaters might follow us over there,” Sirius warned. He wasn’t going to be delusional. The Death Eaters were going to go where Harry went. He was the boy of prophecy.

“I doubt it,” Tonks said, not following Sirius’s thoughts.  “They're going to want to keep England for themselves.”

“Not if what you say is true and the goblins take over,” Harry said, thinking all the magicals would run if that happened.

“What's this?” asked Andi, looking at Harry.

Harry looked at all the adults who were looking at him. Sirius gave him a nod, so he said, “Sirius says that the goblins are going to rebel.”

“He's probably right,” said Andi. She had grown up with the same stories that Sirius had. She had no illusions that the goblins would let this opportunity pass up.

“They've been waiting to do it for years,” said Tonks, nodding in agreement. As an Auror she had heard horror tales that they would be fighting wars with the goblins at any moment.

“That's if the virus didn't affect them,” said Sirius, pragmatically. “There’s still a chance that they were cut in numbers as well.”

“That's probably true too. If the virus affected them as bad, if not worse than it did us, then they might not take over,” Harry said, though he didn’t wish it to be true, in a way he did. They didn’t need another war right now.

“I guess we're going to have to go and see,” said Sirius with a sigh. He really didn’t want to. He had enough to do. Well, not really, but he still didn’t want the responsibility. It wasn’t his job.

“I think we should wait and figure out what's going on with us before we figure out what's going on with them. Leave that up to the ministry. It is kind of their job,” said Tonks, wrinkling her nose. She didn’t like the thought of letting someone like Fudge take on that kind of responsibility, but it was his job. That was if he was still alive. If the man wasn’t cowering in fear somewhere. For all they knew the man had fled.

“Too right on that,” said Sirius, glad that was taken out of his hands. “Not that they ever bloody do their job anyway,” he mumbled under his breath. They never did anything for him at any rate.

“You do realize I work for the government, right?” asked Tonks, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but you don't like it,” he said with a smirk.

“I happen to love my job as an Auror,” she protested.

“Ah, but you don't like working for the government,” he rebutted, knowing she hated Fudge and Umbridge. She talked about them often enough at the meetings. She had rambled about how they were ruining the community. Hopefully they were dead, and they didn’t have to deal with it at all.

“Yeah, you're right on that. Fudge is a right idiot,” she agreed, nodding her head.

“For all you know, the poor man could be dead. I wish you would not speak ill of people until you know whether they're alive or dead,” Andromeda said primly. She wasn’t quite the bitch she was coming off as, but she had just been through so much the last few days, that she wasn’t up to company.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Tonks, just because somebody is alive or dead does not make them less of an idiot,” said Harry. He never got the whole don't speak ill of the dead thing. If you were stupid as a person alive, you were still stupid dead. That fact did not change when you died.

“Harry!!” said Sirius with a choked laughter.

“What? I said with all due respect,” Harry said like he hadn’t said anything wrong, which to him, he hadn’t in his eyes.

“Still, that's no way to talk to my cousin,” he said, though there was no heat behind it. He really didn’t feel it was up to him to chastise Harry. The boy was grown enough to know right from wrong.

“Whatever.”

With that, the conversation went back to what they were going to do after they went to Hogwarts. Which basically boiled down to making plans on going to the continent, which was pinned on how many people were left alive there. Harry just let the conversation flow around him. He had plans, but they were new in the making. He needed to know what they were going to do, then he’d tell them what he was going to do. Hopefully, they’ll mesh.

He had a stray thought as he ate his casserole. ‘Did Snape make it?’

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

They stayed at Grimmauld Place for a couple more days, but nobody else showed up. It was disheartening for all of them. They sent out a couple more Patronuses, but nobody answered. Not even Moody. They assumed he was dead, along with everyone else. Or they couldn’t do the Patronus. If it was the latter, they gave them ample time to come to the house.

Well, that's not quite true, Amelia Bones did answer, but she was sad because none of her family had survived. Susan died at Hogwarts. She was also extremely busy because she was one of the few left at the ministry with any type of authority. Fudge was dead, as was many of the Wizengamot. Bones was trying to hold it all together and keep the peace.

“She's trying to beat a dead hippogriff,” said Sirius as they sat around the study one afternoon. They had just read a letter from Amelia stating that she would not join them. That she was trying to hold the government together with the skeletal crew that was left.

“I don't know why she's trying to keep the peace. There's nothing left to keep it for,” said Harry, playing with a piece of paper. He was upset that there were no more people here. Not that he knew any of the people they had written to, but they still hadn’t heard from the Weasleys.

“She's always been a stickler for the rules,” said Tonks, reading the letter again. She then stood up and threw it in the fire. She didn’t want to read it anymore. If Bones wanted to waste time on a dead government that was her problem.

“Aren't you going to go in and keep your job?” asked Andromeda, shocked at her daughter’s action. It had been Nymphadora’s dream job.

“No, I don't think so,” said Tonks, retaking her seat. She picked up her drink and took a sip. It was firewhiskey, which was something her mother protested her drinking so early in the day.

“Whyever not?” asked her mother.

“I just don't feel up to holding up the law with so few people around. That and seeing my father torn apart by my boyfriend has left me disconcerted,” the normally bubbly woman said, her usually pink hair a dull brown. She had not been cycling her hair in days.

“Don't be that way, dear,” said her mother kindly, wishing there was something she could do to help her daughter. She was distraught as well; it had been her husband that had been killed. She was dealing with it much differently, however.

“I just don't feel up to it, Mum. Leave it be,” Tonks said, despondently as she took yet another sip of her drink.

“Yeah, Andi, let it go. If she wants to hang around here and just help us out, then let her be. It's not like money's going to do her any good anymore,” Sirius said, he too was feeling depressed and didn’t want Andi to get into it with Tonks.

“Speaking of money,” said Harry, trying to deflect any argument, “what are we going to do about Gringotts?” He wondered if he was ever going to see his gold again. Not that he thought it would hold any value, but it might.

“What do you mean?” asked Sirius, giving him a puzzled look. He had had a bit much to drink and wasn’t thinking quite clearly. He and Tonks had been hitting the sauce for days now. The longer it went without hearing from the people they knew, the more depressed they got.

“I mean, the goblins,” said Harry, getting upset that Sirius and Tonks were being irresponsible. He needed them sober and alert.

“I thought we were just going to let them be,” said Sirius, furrowing his brow. He thought that that had been clear from the get go. He didn’t want to fight the goblins. He thought the government was going to handle it.

“No, that's what you said,” the teenager stated, folding his arms. He wanted to go to the Alley and do some shopping if he could.  “I'm still concerned about what we're going to do about them. I mean, we've still got to go to Diagon Alley and get supplies. Gringotts is right there. If the goblins are going to rebel, we need to get there sooner rather than later.” They needed to stock up on things. Even if they had to ‘appropriate’ them. If everyone was dead, then it was all clear for the taking, right?

“He's got a point,” said Tonks, narrowing her eyes in concentration. They did need things they couldn’t get here.

“So, you want to go to Diagon Alley before we go to Hogwarts?” asked Sirius, making sure he was understanding what was going on. If that’s all Harry wanted, then okay, he could do that.

“Yeah, I think it's a good idea if we can pick up some magical tents and other things that we might need,” Harry said, putting a list together in his head of what they might need in an emergency.

“Why on earth would we need magical tents?” his godfather asked, laughing a bit. To him it was ludicrous.

“In case we have to go on the run,” Harry said, exasperated. He was about to snap at the man for getting sauced in the middle of the day.

“What makes you think we would have to go on the run? Besides, we're magical beings. We can clear out any house. There’s no need for a tent,” Sirius said, waving the thought away. To him the idea was just too far-fetched. They were magicals, they didn’t need to sleep outdoors when they had magic.

“You, yourself, said there might be bad guys after us. That the Death Eaters might chase us down when we go to the continent,” Harry said, a growl in his tone. His eyes narrowed in anger.

“Fine, fine, we'll go to Diagon Alley and get some magical tents,” Sirius said, waving his hand in the air. He didn’t want to argue. It was a small thing to do, and it would make Harry happy.

“Do you want to go today?” Andi asked, looking at the two males like they had lost their minds. Sirius for letting Harry push him around and Harry for wanting to sleep in a tent.

“Might as well get it over with,” Sirius said, getting up and heading to the door. He wasn’t too steady on his feet, but he made it there without running into anything, so he considered it a bonus.

“Well, it's a damn sight better than staying around here,” said Andi, also getting up and following Sirius. She was tired of sitting around and waiting. That and it was boring watching her daughter and Sirius get more and more depressed. Maybe a day out would cheer them up.

“I agree,” said Tonks, carefully setting her glass down on the table. She wasn’t quite drunk, but it was close.

“All right then, everybody grab your cloaks and let's go to Diagon Alley,” said Sirius, coming back into the room wearing his outerwear.

With that, the four of them grabbed their cloaks, let Dobby know that they were leaving, and went to Diagon Alley. When they got there, they were shocked to see that the goblins had already taken over. There would be no getting any supplies. The stores were already run by the goblins and the goblins were the only patrons. There were very few wizards to be seen and those that were there were running for their lives.

“Blasted wizards, trying to take over what is rightfully ours,” said one goblin as he threw a spell at a wizard with his spindly fingers. It was like lightning was flying from his fingers.

“What's rightfully yours? It's ours,” said the wizard as he covered his head as he ran for the Apparation point. He was one of the lucky few that survived the virus, but didn’t know the goblins had taken the Alley.

“We took this alley by force and we're not giving it back,” said the goblin, casting the spell once more. He didn’t hit the wizard, but that was on purpose.

“You waited until we were weak and vulnerable,” said a witch as she tried to hold off her attacker with her purse. She had been there for the takeover. They had done it the day after the virus killed everyone.

It had come out of the blue.

They had fallen on the shops and chased everyone away. Goblins stormed storefronts, flinging open doors with gleeful shouts, their hands raised and spells crackling in the air. A few shopkeepers tried to resist, but were quickly overpowered and sent scrambling down the cobblestones, pursued by jeering goblins. Here and in Knockturn Alley as well, the same chaos reigned. The goblins didn’t even let them collect their things—just drove them out, snatching up keys and ledgers, slamming doors behind themselves, and claiming the emptied shops as their own. There had only been three shops open, but that was beside the point. They claimed all the others as theirs as well. It was now a goblin territory.

“Of course we did. How else do you think we would win?” asked the goblin, pushing her out of the way. The goblins were there in force. There were at least ten goblins to each wizard present. It looked like the virus hadn't hit them as hard as it had the magicals, and they were much… angrier. Not quite feral, but definitely more hostile.

Suddenly, one goblin shoved past a wizard trying to slip away, grabbing the wizard by the cloak and yanking them off their feet. A flash of blue magic sparked as the goblin brandished a wand, sending the wizard scrambling across the cobblestones before disappearing into the shadows. The other goblins cheered raucously, thumping their spear-butts on the stones in triumph.

“Well, it looks like we came at a bad time,” said Sirius, not leaving the portal area. They hadn’t seen Tom in the Leaky Cauldron, but the pub had been open. There hadn’t been anyone in it, but they were let through. Seeing what they were seeing now, Sirius was shocked that a goblin wasn’t running the pub. Maybe they were and they were letting unsuspecting magicals through so they could see it for themselves.

“You were right,” said Harry, taking in the scene with some remorse. “The goblins took over.” This saddened him, he was hoping for an amicable solution.

“It doesn't look like we're going to get anything from here,” Tonks said, still a bit tipsy. She wondered if she should try to interfere then thought better of it. She was one person and that was a lot of goblins.

“Also looks like I'm not going to be the richest man in the nation anymore,” said Sirius a bit too cheerfully.

“Do you have any money at your house?” asked Harry, though he was sure that wasn’t going to be an issue. Money really didn’t have any value right now.

Sirius nodded his head emphatically. “Oh yeah, I've got some stashed away. My family was never one to trust the goblins.”

“Well, that's good, because all my money was in that bank,” Harry said, pointing to Gringotts.

“Mine too,” said Tonks.

“Not mine,” said Andromeda a bit smugly.

“Why didn't you warn me?” asked Tonks of her mother.

“When have you ever listened to anything I've said?”

“Fair point.”

With that, the four of them turned and left the alley. They went back to Grimmauld Place trying to decide what they were going to do next. They had been at the house for four days now and nobody had shown up. Now it's time to go to Hogwarts.

Hphphp

They decided to go to Hogwarts via the Hogs Head pub, since Sirius and Aberforth were acquaintances that loved to discuss Quidditch.  

They gathered up all their supplies, including the mass quantities of food that Harry and Sirius had gathered, and Sirius called ahead to see if anybody was there. “Hello, has anybody survived?” he called in through the floo. Nobody answered. There was a connection though, so somebody had to be there. “Hello!” he called again, his voice echoed in the empty pub.

“Hello,” somebody said, coming from far away. “Who's calling?” It was a female voice, and it was coming from up the stairs.

Sirius knelt closer to the flickering flames, his hand braced against the hearth for balance as he called, “It's Sirius Black. Can we come through?” His voice echoed through the floo, and he strained to catch any movement or sound from the other side.

“Who's we?” asked the woman as she came into view. She was a middle-aged woman who looked skinny and pale. She was dressed in worn clothes that had seen better days. They were green trousers and a matching button-down blouse. Her sensible shoes were brown with white socks. She looked like someone who was trying to look important.

“Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Nymphadora Tonks, and Andromeda Tonks,” Sirius said, naming them all off. “May I ask who I'm speaking to?” he asked, looking her up and down. He didn’t know her. He’d been to the Hogs Head a time or two, and he didn’t remember her.

“Name’s Leslie,” the woman said, patting her braided brown hair into place. “I was a barmaid here. I’m the only one left. I took over.” She jutted her chin out, like she was daring him to contest her right to take over the bar.

“Nice to meet you, Leslie. Do you mind if we come through?” He could care less if she claimed the bar. Old Aberforth didn’t have any children.

“No, I don't mind. Mind you, I’ll hex you if you do anything foolish,” the barmaid said, drawing her wand. She knew the rumors that Sirius Black was innocent from Aberforth, but she didn’t know if she believed them or not.

“Don't worry, luv, we're not going to do anything.” With that, Sirius pulled his head out of the fire and indicated that they could go through.

Harry went through first, then Andromeda, then Tonks, and then Sirius. When they came through, they saw that the Hogs Head bar had undergone quite a change. It was no longer the grungy old bar that it once was. It was actually quite clean now and looked respectable. Where dust and cobwebs once claimed every corner, now the air was clear and filled with the scent of fresh polish and a hint of lavender. The floorboards, once sticky and stained, had been scrubbed until their wood gleamed.

Behind the bar, the shelves gleamed with rows of bottles, each arranged with care, their labels facing forward in neat lines. Gone were the piles of unwashed glasses and the mysterious stains—now, everything sparkled with an unexpected sense of order. The tables and chairs, while still mismatched and timeworn, had been wiped clean and set in careful arrangement, making the room feel inviting rather than haphazard.

Even the old, mounted boar’s head above the fireplace looked less menacing, its glassy eyes somehow softened by the tidiness all around. Leslie’s touch was everywhere: a stray daisy in a glass near the window, a patched but laundered tablecloth here and there, and the distinct absence of the old, sour smell that used to hang in the air.

The pub, though empty of customers, radiated a peculiar warmth and quiet hope—as if it was waiting patiently for laughter and conversation to fill its walls once more.

“Wow, you've cleaned the joint up,” said Sirius, looking around at the empty, but clean establishment.

“Right, old Aberforth really didn't care about the old place,” said Leslie, beaming in pride. She had put in a lot of effort in the last week cleaning up the place. She had been the last person alive six days ago. After she took care of Aberforth, she started cleaning. There wasn’t anything else to do.

“I don't know why you did that,” said Tonks, looking at the bottles behind the bar like she wanted to stay and have a drink. “There's nobody left to serve.”

“Keeps me busy,” said Leslie with a shrug.

“I see,” said Tonks, tearing her eyes away from the bottles. They had other things to do right now. She could come back later.

“Well, we're on our way to Hogwarts. Do you want to come with us? I'm sure there'll be people up there,” said Harry. He didn’t like the idea of leaving the woman here by herself. What if one of those bad people came and hurt her?

“Nah, I'll just stay here. I've got me own business now. Might not be much of one, but it's mine. Who knows, maybe there'll be a community one day. Then I'll be set, right and proper,” Leslie said, looking around the bar with a great deal of pride. She lived here now, and she didn’t want to be far from the place. There was nothing left for her at home. Everyone was dead.

“Right,” said Sirius, not caring one way or the other. If the woman wanted to stay that was her prerogative. “Well, we'll just be going.”

The four of them left the bar and went up the road to Hogwarts. They made it to the great gates, which were closed tight, and started banging on them, hoping that Hagrid would hear them. And they were rewarded soon enough as Hagrid came down the walkway and let them in.

“It's good ter see you all,” the gentle giant said, tears running down his face in sheer joy. “Professor Flitwick tol’ me that you were alive, I was very happy ter hear it.” He blew his nose on a very large handkerchief.

“It's good to see you're alive too, Hagrid,” said Harry, going up and hugging his very large friend.

“Right, let's get you lot up ter the castle. I'm sure you want ter see who else is alive. Not many ter tell the truth. But it's good ter see those that are. Dumbledore didn't make it.  Good man, Dumbledore. Near broke my heart when he died,” Hagrid said, more tears rolling down his face this time in despair.

“I was really upset to hear that too, Hagrid,” said Harry, putting his hand on the other man’s massive arm as they walked up the trail to the castle.

“Have you heard from ‘ermione or Ron?” asked Hagrid after a few moments of silence.

“No, I've written to them both, but I've not heard from either one of them. Speaking of writing to them, have you seen Hedwig? I sent her here after everything happened,” Harry said, hoping that his owl was safe. He had sent her here after she returned with Sirius’s letter.

“Yes, she's up in the owlery. I make sure she's fed every day,” the gentle giant said, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Thanks, Hagrid, you're the best,” the teenage boy said, giving him a brilliant smile. Hagrid was truly Merlin sent. He was so good with animals. Harry didn’t even think about whether or not the man might be alive or not. He just assumed that he was.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mrs. Tonks, Miss Tonks, it is very good to see you all alive,” Professor Pomona Sprout said as she came out of the front doors of the castle. She looked like she had not slept in days. It was possible that she had not.

“Professor Sprout, it's good to see you alive too,” Tonks said, happy to see that her old head of house was still alive. For the first time in days, her hair reflected something besides brown. It went a burnt orange.

“I'm sad to say that only me and Professor Flitwick made it out of all the teachers. Madame Pomfrey is the only other adult that made it. Only one out of twenty children made it out alive. We don't know who fared outside of the castle. We are isolated here. We've heard from some of the children's parents, but most of them have not gotten back to us. We are assuming that they are dead,” the kindly woman said, wringing her hands.

“That is very disheartening news,” Sirius said, going to her and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“Yes, indeed it is,” she agreed, stiffening a bit under his arm. She didn’t know if the man was innocent or not. She still was under the impression that he was a mass murderer. However, she knew that she was not adept enough to take him on in a fair fight. That and he was in the company of Harry Potter and Nymphadora Tonks. They were both good people.

“The only thing we can do is send out more letters and Patronus charms and see who can meet us here at the castle,” Tonks stated, sighing at the thought of all the letters they were going to have to write. They were going to have to reach out to every parent of every student, alive or dead.

“Yes, that is the only thing we can do,” the professor agreed, ducking out of Sirius’s embrace.

“We need to get situated as soon as possible,” said Harry, looking back over his shoulder as if there were a predator there now.

“Why is that, Mr. Potter?” Sprout asked, wanting to know what had the boy spooked. He rarely looked that way and when he did, there was a very good reason. Sure, they hardly ever believed him until it was too late, but she was going to listen to him now.

“If the goblins have taken over the Alley, how soon do you think it's going to be before they think they can take over Hogwarts?” the teenager stated, his voice earnest.

“The goblins have taken over the Alley?” asked Sprout. That was news to her. She had not had anyone come from outside of the school with any sort of news as to what was happening. She had no idea who was dead or alive. She just assumed that those that were not answering their inquiries were dead.

“Yes, we just came from there and they have completely taken over Diagon Alley,” Sirius said, with a nod of his head. He looked grave, as if this was dire news. He had had time to think it over, and now that he had thought of it, the loss of all that money was a bad thing. That and they couldn’t stock up on goods. He wondered if they would be able to negotiate with the goblins later down the line. Though without their money, they would have nothing to negotiate with.

“Oh dear, this is not good news at all,” Pomona stated, fussing with her hands.  “Filius will be very upset.” She knew that her coworker was half-goblin and that he would need to take sides. She hoped he would stay with them here at the castle. They needed him here.

Harry was nodding his head with some vigor. “We need to do something about fortifying the castle,” he was saying, looking around the grounds and seeing so much that was wrong with the security.  “With werewolves gone feral and the goblins taking over the Alley, this is not good news at all.”

“We need more adults here,” Tonks said, counting on her fingers how many there were here over the age of eighteen. This was not good. If they got attacked, they would need to rely on teenagers to defend themselves.

“I agree,” said Sirius and Andromeda.

“I'll see about getting Bones here,” Tonks said, a determination in her voice that had not been there since Remus had gone feral.  “This is far more important than trying to hold on to some government that is not needed.” She wasn’t going to let a bunch of children die on her watch. Remus would have wanted her to fight to the last, even if it was against him.

“I think we should all contact her,” said Sirius, thinking that if they bombarded her with mail, she would feel compelled to respond.

“Yes, if we all get together and contact her then that would set more of an impact,” said Harry, agreeing with his godfather.

“Has anybody gotten in touch with St. Mungo's?” asked Andi, hoping that they could convince the healers to move the hospital to the more secure castle. Or at least the ambulatory patients.

“No, we didn't think to try,” said Pomona.

Andi looked around at the others and said, “I'll get in contact with them and see who is still alive there. We might need them. If there is an attack, we’ll need more than Poppy,” she added, making an excuse to bring them aboard.

“That's probably a good idea,” Tonks said, nodding her head. She shivered a bit; they were still sitting outside in front of the castle. Why they had not gone in was beyond her reasoning.

“That might not be a bad idea either. Get everybody relocated into one place would be beneficial,” Sirius said, also shivering. He then started towards the doors of the castle, not one to wait on formalities.

“Alright, let's get together with Flitwick and brainstorm,” said Tonks, following Sirius. She was cold and wanted to get warmed up.

With that, the five of them, not including Hagrid, who went back to his garden patch, went to find Professor Flitwick and sit down and write letters and send off Patronuses to try and get as many adults into the castle as possible. As it was, they had a castle full of frightened children and only a handful of adults.

They did get ahold of St. Mungo’s and found out that most of the patients had died, including Mr. Weasley. There were five healers, eleven mediwitches, and twenty patients still alive. Gilderoy Lockhart was one of them. The Longbottoms, unfortunately, did not make it.

Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, George and Charlie also passed away, though not all were in the hospital. Bill wasn’t there, neither was Percy.

Fred was, and he had spent the last week trying to find his living family. He sent them letters via one of the hospital owls. He knew Bill and Percy were alive because he had heard from them both. Bill was with his girlfriend, Fleur. They were both upset because they were the only survivors. Percy was alone as well; he had contacted Fred two days ago.

Fred had also tried to rally the living people at the hospital to stay together so they could be rescued as a group. Andi’s Patronus came just in time, most of those that survived were about to leave.

Hello in the hospital, call Hogwarts, via the floo. It’s open for the next ten minutes.

Fred was super excited. Well, as excited as a mourning teenager can be. He ran to the floo and threw in the powder and called the Hospital Wing. He hoped Poppy was in a good mood. Because he sure wasn’t.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

When Fred came through, he was both excited and angry. The first thing he did was grab Harry in a frantic hug. “Harry, it's so great to see that you're alive. George, Mum, Dad, Charlie, Ron, Ginny. All of them are dead. I've been surrounded by dead people for the better half of the week. I didn't know how to contact you. I thought about sending an owl, but then I thought your relatives might get upset about that. When Hedwig came, I couldn’t get the letter from her because it was for Ron. It simply disappeared off her foot. I tried to catch her, but she flew off before I could.” He had thought hard about it too. He wanted to contact someone outside of his family, but he really hadn’t wanted to get Harry in trouble.

Harry hugged Fred back, then released him. “My relatives are dead,” he said without remorse.  “The muggle world was hit just as badly as the wizarding world. I didn’t know that about the letter, I thought he had read it, or it would return to me if he was dead,” he added, confused as to why it would disappear.

“Oh, that is disturbing,” Fred said both about the muggle world being hit and the disappearance of the letter.

“Even the animals were affected. The werewolves especially; Remus has gone feral. He attacked the Tonks family, killed the father,” the Boy-Who-Lived stated, looking very grave. He hated giving news like that, but it needed to be done.

“That is even more disturbing,” Fred said, looking around the room at all the adults talking.

There were some kids being treated and put into the hospital beds, a few of the adults too.  They had been patients at St. Mungo’s and were going to be treated here. The healers and mediwitches were glad to take over the Hospital Wing. Poppy was not overly happy about it, but she understood. There weren’t that many patients, the ill didn’t survive at a great rate.

Sirius and the Tonks’ came over to Harry and Fred. “You remember Sirius and Tonks, don't you, Fred? This is her mother, Andromeda. Mrs. Tonks, this is Fred Weasley,” Harry introduced them. “Most of his family, didn’t make it.”

“Nice to meet you, dear. I'm terribly sorry to hear about your family,” said Andromeda, taking him by the hand and shaking it. She wasn’t going to make him stand to protocol.  “My husband didn’t make it either,” she said, not saying how the man had died. She hadn’t heard their conversation.

“Nice to meet you, ma'am,” said Fred, not bothering to buss her knuckles. This was not time for manners. Then he turned back to Harry. “Who do we know that's alive here, still in the castle?” he asked, hoping some of his friends were still among the living. He hadn’t written to Lee either, he thought the muggle world had been safe.

“Haven't got around to seeing who is still alive among the student body. We've been brainstorming about getting everybody here to the castle. The goblins have taken over the alleys,” the younger teen stated, throwing the older one for a loop once more.

“What? They've taken over Diagon Alley?” The shock was apparent on Fred’s face.

“Yeah, it's horrible. We can't get into any of the shops. They've taken over Diagon and Knockturn Alley,” Harry explained and then proceeded to tell him what they saw that afternoon.

“Well, shite,” Fred said, running a hand through his hair. He had been hoping to get some supplies. He and George had things all set up in one of the abandoned shops there. They had been going to set up shop when they graduated. Now though…

“That about sums it up.”

“Why don't you two go and take a walk around the castle and see who is still alive that you know. We adults can take care of what's going on here,” said Tonks, thinking they could go over the logistics of getting more adults here. She had already written Bones, and they were waiting for her to write back. They didn’t send a Patronus, thinking they needed to spell it out more than the spell could handle.

“I'd like to stick around and help out with the planning,” said Harry, wanting to be a part of what was happening. He hated being shunted off whenever they got to the good parts.

“I'm seventeen,” was all Fred said. He was an adult and wasn’t going to be sent off like a child.

“I'm not trying to get rid of you,” said Tonks quickly. She glanced between Fred and Harry, raising her hands in a gesture of reassurance. “I'm just trying to get you to go and see who's alive, that you might know. You are a better judge of character of the students than we are,” she added, looking at the two remaining teachers. “You know them better than we do. You might be able to pick out who would be of help to us and who wouldn't be,” she said, giving them a hopeful look. As if to lighten the mood, she made her hair go blonde and her eyes go wide, then mimed an exaggerated, theatrical pout.

“Oh,” said Harry, though he did narrow his eyes. Sprout and Flitwick would know them better than he and Fred would.

“That does make a bit of sense, though I still think you're trying to get rid of us,” said Fred, not falling for the anime look.

“Just go on with yourselves,” said Tonks, resuming her normal look.

“Come on, Harry, let's let them do what they're going to do. We'll figure out what's going on later,” said Fred, not really wanting to fight. He and Harry would rile up the students into bullying the adults into keeping the teens in the loop. They would need the upper years in the fight, after all.

With that, the two of them went into the castle proper looking for where the students were congregated, which was most likely the Great Hall. It was just after lunchtime. With the teachers busy, the students wouldn’t have anywhere else to go.  

They moved briskly down the corridor, footsteps echoing sharply against the ancient stones as they pushed open the heavy doors. Fred ran a hand along the wall, while Harry paused now and then to peer through windows or check behind suits of armor. The silence was thick, broken only by the occasional distant crash as something settled elsewhere in the castle. With grim determination, they pressed on, neither speaking, both lost in their thoughts, but each step taking them closer to the heart of Hogwarts—and to whoever waited for them there.

They did make it to the Great Hall, and the hall, that once housed thousands of students, now held only around two hundred. Many had come back from their vacation when their family had died, having nowhere else to go.

Fred stared out across the scattered clusters of students. “That is a sad sight to see,” he murmured, taking in the hollow faces and listless movements of the young witches and wizards. Plates brimming with roast meats, buttered rolls, and gleaming pitchers stood untouched or half-eaten, the comforting aromas failing to stir more than a halfhearted nibble from the hunched shoulders and slumped figures. The air felt heavy, tinged with the mingled scents of food and loss. Fred’s chest tightened with the ache of absence, missing Ron’s familiar laughter and the way he’d always managed to brighten a meal, even on the darkest days.

“You're right,” said Harry, also missing his best mate. Ron wouldn’t let a thing like death put him off his meal.  “But then again, some of them are at home with their families,” he said, hoping that was true. If not, then they were fucked.

“Yes, but how many of them are dead?” Fred asked, counting just over two hundred students, many under the age of fifteen.

“The only way we're going to find out is to write or send Patronuses to them,” said Harry, making his own count and coming up with just as many. He too was disappointed. “I don't know many of them, so we're going to have to get the Book of Students. It should be able to tell us who is alive and who's dead. Then we'll write to the ones who are alive and tell them to come to Hogwarts.”

“How do you even know about the Book of Students?” asked Fred as they made their way towards one of the only tables to housed students. There were two, the Gryffindor and the Hufflepuff tables. The Slytherin and the Ravenclaw tables were empty. And even the two tables that were occupied were only a quarter full, if that. It really was a sad sight to see.

Even with only two tables occupied, the students still segregated themselves by Houses. Mostly, some sat with friends or family, if they had any.

“Dumbledore showed it to me once,” Harry said, making his way to the front of the room where he saw some familiar faces.

“Why on earth did he do that?” asked Fred.

“I asked him if I truly belonged here, and that was one of his ways of showing me that I did,” was the answer. It was when he first came here as a firstie.

“Why on earth did you ask that?”

“I have low self-esteem,” said Harry, then looked around for something to change the subject. “Look, there's Neville,” he said, pointing to the sandy-blond haired boy.

Neville was seated at the Gryffindor table, gingerly eating a sandwich he had prepared with roast beef, butter rolls, and some crisps. His peers were similarly engaged with their respective meals.

“Who's that he's hanging out with?” Fred asked, looking at the little blonde sitting next to Neville. “Oh, it's Luna Lovegood. I know her, she used to live down the road from us. Well, I mean she probably still does. But I don't know. We don't live there anymore, I'm assuming. I wonder if old Xeno is still alive,” He asked out loud. He was rambling, he knew that, but it was better than crying. He was still coming to terms with his family dying, and thinking of the Burrow was raw.

“I have a feeling that's going to be a question coming from our mouths quite a bit in the next month or so,” Harry said despondently. He knew it was, and it was hard to deal with. It would get tedious soon, he was sure, but right now, it was depressing.

“Yeah,” said Fred, also morosely.

The two of them made their way to Neville and Luna, looking around at all the faces as they passed them. They could see everybody was very upset. Nobody was cracking jokes, nobody was laughing, nobody was giggling, nobody was gossiping. Everybody was looking very, very depressed.

“Well, this is a happy bunch,” said Fred as he sat down. He had a smile on his face that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“What do you expect? All of our families are dead?” asked Neville, having not heard from his gran. He was sure she was dead. She would have written to him first thing, if she was alive. She would have stormed the castle by now. She had to be dead.

“I know, my family is too, but we can't just sit here being depressed about it. We've got to pick up ourselves and… move on,” he said, trying very hard not to cry over the fact that his twin brother was dead. That was the hardest thing to cope with.

“Who did you lose?” asked Neville, noting that George was not with him. He was hoping the other twin was just sick but looking at Fred’s face he knew the truth.

“Everybody but Bill and Percy,” Fred said, forcing his lips not to quiver. He could do a stiff upper lip. He was British.

“That's tough, mate,” the sandy-haired boy said, wanting to reach over and comfort the other teen, but he didn’t want to overstep his bounds. He didn’t know Fred that well.

Fred nodded his head, once more trying to look brave. “Yeah, I've had a week to come to grips with it. I'm just glad that those two made it. It was rough going there for a while, but I'm over it now,” he said in a shaky voice. He might look good, but he sounded depressed.

“No, you're not, mate, I can hear it in your voice,” said Neville, this time reaching over and patting the older teen’s arm. He didn’t linger, just patting it and removing his hand.

Fred slammed his hand down on the table and said, “But I've got to be, we've got to move on. We will not survive this as a society if all we do is sit around here and mope. The adults are worse off than we are. There are only a few adults in this castle right now, and there are almost two hundred of us. If we want to survive, we have got to pull ourselves together,” he preached.

“How do you mean?” asked Luna, trying to direct her dreamy eyes on him. She had been listening, but not quite focusing on the conversation.

“We've got to pick up the slack,” said Harry, backing his friend’s play.  “We've got to do the work. We've got to educate ourselves and figure out how we're going to survive. There are going to be bad people coming here soon and we've got to fight back.” He was more determined than ever to get these teens to fight.

“What do you mean they're going to be bad people coming here soon?” asked Padma who was sitting next to her twin sister, Parvati.

This caused Fred to have a pang of jealousy. Why did her twin get to make it when his did not? That was just not fair. All of his family, bar two, died, and she got to keep her twin? Why? He’d give anything to have George by his side. He had watched his brother die, and it was the most traumatizing thing he had seen in his life. It was as if half of him died that day. It was worse than seeing his mum die.

Harry had no clue what Fred was thinking and went on with the conversation. “The goblins have taken over the Alleys,” he said, looking around the table, seeing the shocked faces of those that were listening. “They're going to come here soon and try and take over Hogwarts, I'm sure of it. If not them, I'm sure the Death Eaters will come and try and take it. This is one of the only strongholds in Scotland, if not all the UK. We've got to fight to hold it.”

“That's ridiculous,” said Michael Corner, who had been sitting at the Hufflepuff table but had come over to hear what Harry had to say.

“No, it's not ridiculous,” said Padma as she nodded her head. She believed Harry. She could see the goblins doing just that. “He's telling the truth. It's been told throughout history that the strongholds are the most fought over in times of great despair.”

“What makes you think we can fight for it?” asked Michael. Usually he wasn’t one to argue, but he had no clue if his family was alive or not. They had not answered his letter, and the school wouldn’t let them floo home.

Parvati tossed her hair to one side and said, “We’re magicals. We've been educated to do this.”

The argumentative teen answered back with, “Have you looked at the DADA teachers we've had in the last few years? We couldn't fight our way out of a wet paper bag.” He was right. They had had terrible teachers, and only the fake Moody had taught them any defensive spells. Lupin had taught them magical creatures and how to defend themselves against them. That would not be helpful right now.

Harry squared his shoulders and stepped forward, determination in his eyes. “I know a few spells I can teach you,” he said, standing to be heard over the other teens who were taking sides in the argument. “I'll teach you to fight,” he insisted, lifting his wand as if to demonstrate his resolve.

“You? What makes you so brilliant?” Corner asked, looking at him with disdain.

“I study. I know loads of spells that I can teach you,” Harry said, lowering his wand and looking at Corner like he was an idiot. Who had been the one to save the castle these last four years?

“I know a few too,” said Fred, going over the things he and George had learned when they were studying their pranks. There were many things that could be used for defense. “My brother, Bill, has taught me many and he's coming too. I'm sure he can teach you quite a few. He's a curse-breaker.” He was sure Bill wouldn’t mind. He was a good bloke and would be happy to help.

“Then Sirius, my godfather, he could teach you too. He’s from a Dark family. The things he’d teach you would be bothersome, but they would help you get away,” Harry stated, knowing that now was not the time to be squeamish.

“There's only a couple hundred of us, and some of us are very small children,” someone said, looking at the group that had gathered. There were some that were still only eleven years old. They weren’t going to be able to fight.

“Yes, but about fifty of us are fifteen or older. That's old enough to fight,” said Harry. He felt that was a good age, since that was how old he was. He wasn’t going to point out that he had been fighting for this school since he was eleven.

“What are we going to do with the other 150 of us?” Corner asked sarcastically.

“I can teach them to set traps,” Fred snapped, not liking the other boy’s attitude. “I'm very good at trap setting. It's part of the pranks that we set up all the time. Isn't that right, Geo…?” He trailed off, remembering that his brother was no longer there to ask that question.

“That's right,” said Harry, taking up the slack so he didn't look embarrassed. “Trap making is an integral part of warfare and they would make a great deterrent.”

“So, we set up these pranks, traps, and we keep the stronghold. How long do you think we're going to be able to hold it?” asked Michael. He didn’t like this plan at all. He didn’t want to be stuck in Hogwarts for the rest of his life.

“I don't think we have to hold it for very long,” Harry said, running a hand down his face. He wasn’t going to go over everything right now, but a bit would go a long way. “I don't plan on staying here. I plan on going to the continent, but I want to hold it long enough so that we can get as many people here as we can. I want to save people then go to the continent.”

“You want to abandon the UK to the bad people?” asked Luna, shocked at the very idea.

Harry looked sheepish at the looks he was getting, but he stood his ground. “When you put it like that, it sounds bad,” he said, putting a hand on the back of his neck, “but I mean, we can reevaluate and come back and take it. But as it is right now, we're too discombobulated. By that I mean, we're too disorganized, we're too emotional. We need to get organized and come back into it when we have a fighting chance. We don't have that right now,” he said, trying to get his words into a coherent phrasing.

“I think I understand what you're trying to say, Harry, and I get it,” Fred said, trying to wrap his head around his friend’s plan, “but it just feels wrong to leave the whole country to the bad guys. What about the muggles?” His family always stuck up for the muggles when they could.

“They have their whole army to protect them,” Harry said, not worried too much about them. They might not have that army now, but they would have more guns than the wizards did.  Then again, so did the bad guys. He knew that. He was concerned about Joe Public, and he did want to get the parents of the muggleborn and the half-bloods. And maybe anyone else they could find, but he didn’t want to stay here too long. “They have no problem shooting guns, and let me tell you, guns are always going to be faster than spells. There isn't a ward or a shield that is faster or stronger than a bullet,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead.

“Go on with you. That's not true,” said Michael, making a waving motion with his hand.

“And how would you know? You never set foot in the muggle world, ever once,” Harry challenged him. He didn’t think Corner was a muggle-raised half-blood.

“I'll have you know that I'm a half-blood,” Corner stated, folding his arms over his chest.

“That was raised in the wizarding world. I know all about you, Michael Corner. Well, at least I know enough about you to know that you never set foot in the muggle world,” Harry said, poking a finger in his direction.  “You were raised on stories about it, so you should know that a bullet is faster than a spell.”

“Not according to my grandmother,” was the rebuttal.

“Your grandmother doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Guns for the last century have been faster than any spell,” Harry said, looking at him queerly. Just how old was his gran? The only gun slower than a spell was a musket.

“Don't go talking bad about my grandmother,” the other teen stated, standing and leaning forwards on the table.

Harry remained seated and waved the boy away. “I'm not talking bad about your grandmother. I'm just saying that she's old,” he said, keeping his voice calm.

“I still say you don't know what you're talking about,” Corner stated, sitting with a thump. “A spell is far superior to a gun.”

“I was raised in the muggle world from the time I was fifteen months old. I think I know what I'm talking about. You have to speak a spell, and by the time you’ve uttered the first syllable, you’re dead.” Harry gestured emphatically, tapping his wand against the table for emphasis. “If you don't believe me, ask any other muggleborn. I mean, why do you insist on fighting with me?” He shot Corner an exasperated look. “Unless you are proficient with wordless and wandless magic, a bullet is faster.”

“He's right,” said Padma, glaring at Michael with frustration. “Why do you insist on fighting with him when it's so easy to find out if he’s telling the truth or not?” This was all so pointless.

“Which, I, for one, can tell you he is,” said Colin Creevy as he came through the doors. He looked tired and dirty. Like he had been on his feet for days. There was dirt on his face and in his hair. His clothes were torn and also dirt encrusted. He held on his back, a backpack that had seen better days.

“Colin!” said Harry, getting up and going to the boy.  “It's good to see that you're alive. Where's your brother?” he asked, looking for the younger boy.

“He didn't make it,” Colin said, hanging his head. He was the picture of sadness. “I am the only Creevey left,” he added, shrugging off his backpack and letting it fall to the floor.  

“How did you get here?” Harry asked, changing the subject. He put his arm around Colin’s shoulder and led him to the Gryffindor table, remembering to pick up the backpack.

“Oh, a few bicycles, a few stolen cars. Walked most of the way. It took me the better part of a week, but I got here,” the smaller teen said, proudly. His shoes showed that he did take the hard way to get here.

“You walked?” a great many people said, finding it hard to believe. It was a great distance.

“I got a few rides, part of the way,” the younger boy protested with a shrug.

“Whatever, mate, it's really good to see you,” Harry said, hugging the younger male. He was happy to see one more person he knew. It gave him hope that Hermione was still alive.

“Back to the subject at hand, a bullet will always be faster than a spell,” Colin said, detaching himself from Harry’s hug. “Unless you’re like Dumbledore,” he added.

Corner crossed his arms and leaned back, smirking at Creevy. “You're just saying that because you're Harry Potter's fanboy,” he said.

Harry just threw up his hands and said, “There is no pleasing you.”

“Give it up, Harry, let the fool get shot,” Fred said, shaking his head. He nudged Neville and gestured at Corner like the other boy was just a fool. Neville nodded in agreement.

“Fine, let’s get to writing to all the people you know. If you even only know them by name, write to them and tell them to get here. If Colin can walk here, or we can get here, then they can,” Harry said, making everyone turn to their bookbags, or ask for parchment if they didn’t’ have some of their own. “Tell them to write to Sprout or Flitwick. Ask them to open the floo, or something,” he suggested, grabbing some paper from Padma to write to Hermione again. Hopefully, he was closer to her now.

With that, the students set about writing to everyone they knew. Ink scratched hurriedly across parchment as hands fumbled for quills and addresses, while a scramble for spare sheets erupted at the end of the table. Soon, the surviving owls were swooping and fluttering above, their talons clutching newly-folded letters, ready to take flight into the uncertain sky.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

Meanwhile, while the kids were down in the Great Hall talking about the benefits of spells versus guns, the adults were up in the Hospital Wing talking about how they were going to get more adults into the castle.

“Well, we've written to Bones. Who else do we know that's alive?” asked Sirius, going to one of the chairs by the wall and sitting in it. It had been a long day, and he was tired. That and he was coming down from his drinking this morning. He was slightly hungover and getting more so by the minute.

“I don't know,” said Pomona, wringing her hands. “We've written to some of the parents, and we've only received a few replies.” She was depressed over the few they had received, that meant that the rest were dead. She just hoped the children were alive and just hadn’t answered.

“Write to them again and tell them to come to the castle and bring any surviving children with them,” said Andi in a firm tone. Professor Sprout seemed to need a firm hand to get moving. It wasn’t that she was childlike, just painfully shy.

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” asked Flitwick, not sure if the purebloods should leave the security of their houses. They would have wards that could withstand a lot of damage.

“Of course it's a good idea. We need to get everybody into the castle so that we can stay together,” said Tonks, looking at him like he was bonkers. “That and we don’t know how many kids are all alone,” she added.

“Why?” he asked, genuinely curious. He knew that to grow as a community they would need to gather at one point in time, but why now? Why did they need to group together here?

“Because there's going to be Death Eaters out there creating chaos. We don't know if Voldemort is still alive and out there causing untold mayhem. They're vulnerable out there, there’s no Aurors left. At least none that I know of. I should send out a Patronus to Kingsley and see if he's still alive,” Tonks said as an afterthought. Her hair ran a cycle of colors as she thought of her coworker. She hadn’t thought about him all this time and that bothered her. She had thought about Moody, but she had forgotten about Shacklebolt.

Without waiting for a response, Tonks drew her wand, her expression hardening with resolve, and strode to the nearest window. She focused, the tip of her wand glowing with silvery light as she summoned her Patronus, a bright and nimble jackrabbit, which leapt gracefully out into the darkening sky, carrying her urgent message to Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Flitwick and Sprout shared a look. They didn’t know if they believed that Voldemort was back or not. But they did know that the Death Eater threat was real. Well, they had not been heard from for years, but a disaster like this might bring them back.

“That's a very good idea,” said Sirius, rubbing the ache in his forehead.  “Send one off to all of your ex-coworkers. They can help train us all,” he added, trying to stave off a headache.

Tonks was nodding her head in agreement. She would see what she could do about that. Though they might have gone to work with Amelia and would be with her. “I'll do that. Um, I want to see if I can get as many people here as possible. We're going to need a huge fighting force.” She was still watching her jackrabbit fade in the distance.

“Can we set up the war wards?” asked Andi out of the blue. This was a valid question, but it came out of nowhere.

“No,” said Pomona, once more wringing her hands.

“Whyever not?” asked Sirius, sitting up straight. That was not good news. “We're going to need those.”

“You need all four Heads of House and at least the Deputy Headmaster/mistress. We only have two of Heads of Houses and we don't have a Deputy, let alone a Headmaster,” the Herbologist explained, trying to keep her patience. She was a nervous nelly, but she was getting upset with having them bombard her with questions.

“I meant to ask you, was Snape here and did he make it?” Sirius asked with trepidation, running a hand through his hair as he glanced anxiously toward the door. He was hoping the man died, but didn’t want to wish him dead at the same time. There was a lot of history there.

“No, Severus wasn't here, and I have no idea if he made it or not,” Sprout said with a sad sigh. She put her hand to her eyes as if to wipe a tear. She was hopeful that man was alive. There had been too much death, and she didn’t wish death on anyone.

Sirius let out a weary sigh, pushing himself up from his slouched position and reaching for a scrap of parchment on the cluttered table. “Bugger,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead some more. “Now I'm going to have to send a letter out to see if the man is alive. We might need him here.” Grudgingly, he picked up a quill and began scribbling a quick note, though it was clear he hated the very thought. He really didn’t want the man here, but if he could help raise the wards, he would be helpful.

“Whatever for?” asked Tonks, shocked. She knew how much her cousin hated the other man.

“Well, like you said, we're going to need a fighting force, and if he's on our side, we're going to need him,” the dogman explained, finishing his letter, then closing his eyes and leaning his head on the wall. He really was getting a headache.

Poppy, seeing that he was in pain, got him a headache potion and handed it to him. He took it and sighed in relief. He nodded his thanks and sat up to pay attention to the conversation around him. It wasn’t totally gone, since it was from dehydration, but he wasn’t going to tell Poppy that he had been drinking all morning.

“I suppose you might be correct,” Tonks conceded, though she was loath to do it. She didn’t want Snape here. She didn’t like, or trust, the man. He had been her potions teacher, and he was a bully through and through. With a reluctant sigh, Tonks crossed her arms and shifted her weight from foot to foot, staring pointedly at the floor as she tried to swallow her unease.

“Well, you send that off and then write to whoever else you need to and let's get this ball rolling. We're going to need to teach those kids how to fight too,” Andi said, going to the desk in the office to get some more writing materials for Sirius.

“Children? How to fight?” said Sprout, putting her hand to her chest. This was not to be done from her point of view.

Coming back into the room, Andi handed the parchment and ink to Sirius and said to Pomona, “Yes. We're not big enough of the fighting force to hold off anybody. The children are going to have to help.” She didn’t like it, but needs must.

“I don't think I approve of this,” said the gentle teacher.

"It's not up for debate," Mrs. Tonks stated, standing firm as she crossed her arms and fixed each person in the room with a determined gaze. "We have no choice. This is a kill or be killed world. Surely, you must understand that by now."

“We don't know that,” said Flitwick, standing his full height. He didn’t like it, but he knew it to be true. He just had to debate it first. It was in his nature.

“I've read enough, and studied enough history, to know that in this type of situation it always boils down to kill or be killed,” Andi said, tapping her finger on her arm in anger. She didn’t know why they were even debating it. It was obvious to anyone with eyes. It was the end of the world, and everyone was going to have to learn how to defend themselves.

“She has a point. This type of situation always brings out the worst in people. That's why we're trying to gather likeminded people together so that we could fortify this place and be safe,” Tonks said, coming and standing by her mother’s side.

The rest of the adults in the Hospital Wing moved about briskly, tending to their duties with purposeful energy. The patients, some propped up on pillows and others shuffling to refill water glasses, watched the ongoing debate with curiosity, their eyes flitting between the speakers. A mediwitch hurried by, her arms full of bandages, while another adjusted potions on a nearby tray, listening in as she worked. Though the staff kept their hands busy, their ears were unmistakably tuned to the heated conversation. One healer paused at the foot of a bed, tapping a quill nervously on her clipboard, as if debating whether to speak up or continue leaving decisions to those currently taking charge.

“I agree with the ladies,” said Sirius from his seat on the wall. He was feeling better, but he didn’t want to get up. “We need to form a community so that we can be safe. The kids are going to need to learn to defend themselves.”

“But children fighting? I'm against that,” said Sprout, she was firm on this. Children did not fight.

“Like I said, we have no choice,” Andi said, making a slashing motion with her hand.  “We'll keep them out of it as much as possible, but they've got to be able to defend themselves. If we go down, we will leave them defenseless. We must teach them survival skills.” It was a thing of nightmares to think of the children on the run and not being able to live because they didn’t know what to do.

“Do you know any survival skills?” asked her daughter, thinking her mother was a pureblood that was a housewife.

“I know what I've read,” was Andi’s response.

“Just what kind of books have you been reading while I've been working?” was the inquiring retort. Tonks had to wonder where her mother would have gotten those kinds of books. Then she remembered that the muggle world was chuck full of books like that.

Andi lifted an eyebrow at her and said, “Don't you worry about that. I know enough to survive in a world like this.” She might have gotten some from romance novels, but there were many post-apocalyptic books that gave you enough knowledge to survive. Sure, they were fictional, but you can learn from them.

“Whatever,” Tonks said, rolling her eyes.  “I know what I've been taught in school and in training, so I know enough to survive in a world like this too. We'll get together and compare notes.”

Just then, the floo flared and a voice came across the room. It was Amelia Bones. “Hello in the Hospital Wing,” it said. She was able to bypass the password due to her DMLE badge.

“Amelia?” asked Tonks, going to the fireplace, the rest of the group following.

“Since when are you so informal, Auror Tonks?” Bones asked, her face appearing in the fire.

“Since I quit my job a week ago,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

“I received no such notice,” was the rebuttal.

“I'm pretty sure you noticed that I haven't showed up for my job this whole week,” Nymphadora pointed out cheekily, though there was sadness lacing her tone.

“I assumed you were dead. Just like everybody else. I'm happy to see you are alive. Now you can resume your duties,” Amelia said, primly. There was a demanding tone to her voice, like she was going to be listened to no matter what.

Tonks was shaking her head frantically. She wasn’t going back to work, she had too much to do here. “That is not going to happen. I quit. Did you not just hear me?”

Amelia looked like she had been slapped, she wasn’t used to being disobeyed by her subordinates. “But you are needed,” she said, urgently.  “I need every able body I can have. It's chaos on the streets. Have you not heard that the goblins have taken over the Alleys?”

“Yes, I know they have,” the metamorphmagus said empathically, “but I am needed here. I think it's far more important to gather up as many people here than it is to hold on to a government that is not needed at all.” She truly believed that too. She didn’t think that the laws applied right now.

“How can you say that? The government is essential to keep a community going,” Bones stated, also believing what she was saying. To her the law was above all.

“What community?” Sirius said, standing by Tonks’s side.  “Everybody is dead. A government is not essential. If you want to hold on to your government, hold on to it here at Hogwarts and not at that defunct building.” He didn’t care if she knew he was there, what could she do? Arrest him?

“Sirius Black! What are you doing there?” she asked, ready to pull her wand and arrest him, but knowing it would be a futile effort. For one, she was still at the ministry, and he was at Hogwarts. For another, where would she put him?

“Helping, but this isn’t about him, this is about you moving your government here with all the adults you can bring?” Tonks said, taking the attention off Sirius.

“Why is this so important to you?” Amelia asked, turning her attention back to the younger woman.

Tonks waited a moment, trying to word this so that she could make the bigger impact without sounding like they were being hysterical. “We're trying to get everybody in one location in case the Death Eaters or the goblins attack. It would be easier for you to put your skeletal crew here, than for us to translocate everybody there.”

“I see your point. I suppose I could run the government from Hogwarts, but I still need you to take up your duties as an Auror. Can I rely on you to do that?” Bones asked, making one last effort to get her to do her job.

“How about a compromise?” Tonks offered, willing to bend a bit.  “I'll fight, if there is a need. But I won't take up my duties.”

“If that's the best I can get, then I'll take it,” Amelia sighed. She didn’t like it. She would rather the girl do her job all the time, but if she could get her to do it part time, well, she’d take it.

“So, we’ll see you here in what? Two hours?” Tonks asked, thinking that would be enough time for them to get what they needed to get here.

“Yes, that should give me enough time to gather everybody up. We're going to need to gather all the essential information and burn everything else,” Bones said, going over the logistics. They would need to burn or banish a lot of material. Probably banish most of it, but some of it was resistant to banishing, therefore would need to be burned. Especially in the Department of Mysteries.

“Who are you going to destroy it for?” Sirius asked, not sure of the need for it.

“I don't want the Death Eaters or Voldemort to get their hands on the information that is here,” Amelia said, looking at him like he was an idiot. She still didn’t know why he was there, but she trusted Tonks, so he must be innocent or at least trusted to behave.

“Who are they going to use it against? Everybody is dead,” the dogman said again, still not seeing the point.

“I see your point,” she said, rubbing her forehead in frustration. Even though he was right, there were protocols that needed to be done if they were to abandon the ministry. “Still, there is some information here that needs to be destroyed. Give us two hours,” she said, giving them all a look.

“We'll leave the floo open at that time. How many can we expect?” asked Pomona, speaking up for the first time. She needed to know so that she could tell the house elves.

“I have twenty adults,” was the answer.

“Damn, you really were working with the skeletal crew,” said Sirius with a low whistle. “Is Kingsley among them?” he asked, wanting to ask as much for himself as Tonks.

“Yes, Shacklebolt is among the people that are here,” Amelia said, giving him a queer look. She was wondering how he knew Kingsley. As far as she knew they would never have met.

“That is wonderful news,” Sirius said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them in glee.

“I'll let you get back to what you are doing,” Amelia said, looking at something behind her.  “I must go and prepare for our move.” She withdrew her head.

“Alright then, that's twenty more people that are going to be here. We're going to need to set up accommodation for them. I need to call the house elves,” said Pomona as she bustled to the side of the room and called the head house elf.

“This is great news,” said Andi, glad to hear that there would be more adults here. Though, they might be the old fuddy-duddies from the Wizengamot. They might not be much help. “They would also be able to help train the children, and us. We are woefully out of practice.” She knew she could do with a duel or two under her belt.

“Speak for yourself,” said Tonks, puffing up proudly.

“Well, I don't mean you, dear.”

“I know, I am,” said Sirius, knowing he had not picked up a wand in years. “But I'm sure Professor Flitwick is not.” He looked at the diminutive professor, who, while old, looked at the peak of his fitness.

“Oh, I could use a bit of practice,” said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky voice.

“At any rate, let's get to writing and get this spell cast,” Tonks said, going to the office to see if there was more parchment.

“I'm going to go get the Book of Students,” Flitwick said suddenly, and he ran out of the room.

“That is a marvelous idea,” said Pomona, clapping her hands, having finished with the elf. “Yes, that'll tell us which students are alive, and which are dead.”

“We will still need to write to the house of the dead ones to see if any of the family are alive and have them come here too, even the muggleborn and half-bloods,” Tonks said, she wanted anyone associated with magic here. Even the muggleborn parents.

“I'm going to start making floo calls,” Poppy said, going to her patient files. “I know the addresses to some of the students because I had to call the parents when their children were sick. Like the Malfoys, the Corners and the Greengrasses, and so on. So, I will just start calling them and see if any of the families are still alive.”

“Another excellent idea,” said Sirius as Flitwick came back in with a large book under his arm. It must have been close by.

“And I will start using the floo in the headmaster's office, going off the Book of Students,” said Flitwick, opening the book and reading the first name. It was red, the person was dead. He’d call the house anyway, to see if anyone was alive. They were pureblood; therefore, they would have a floo connection.

“And whoever we can't contact, we’ll write or Patronus,” Tonks said. “Just remember to leave the floo up two hours from now.” She wanted to make sure that Bones could come through.

“Will do,” said Poppy, already sticking her head in the fire.

With that, they sprang into action. Tonks, Andi, and Sirius quickly gathered quills, ink, and parchment, spreading out across desks as they hastily penned letters to those without a floo connection. Pomona snatched a list of names and hurried to the hearth, while Filius and Poppy darted from fireplace to fireplace, calling out names and waiting breathlessly for replies. The air was thick with urgency—quills scratched, parchment fluttered, and green flames leapt and danced as calls went out one after another. Voices echoed through the floo, some met with silence, others with relief or quiet weeping as survivors answered. For the better part of two hours, they labored, sometimes shouting instructions across the room, sometimes pausing to steady trembling hands. At last, they reached everyone they could, the reality of loss heavy but pierced by moments of hope as small groups and lone survivors stumbled through the floo, blinking in the warm light of Hogwarts, grateful to no longer be alone.

Out of the Malfoy family, only Narcissa was alive. Out of the Greengrass family, only Daphne was. And on and on it went. Families were reduced to single or double members. Neville's gran was not among the living. Nor were Michael Corner's parents. There were a lot of empty houses. The floo didn't even connect to more than three quarters of the addresses.

Two hours came, and Amelia and her twenty members of the government came through, and they were not happy. They did not like the fact that they were being relocated to Hogwarts. They felt they were too important to be shuffled off to a school.

“Why did you bring us here, Amelia?” asked one of the Wizengamot members.

“I've told you this repeatedly, I brought you here because it's important that we stay together as a society in case the Death Eaters attack. We don't know if Voldemort is still alive or not,” Amelia stated, like she was at her wits end.

“For the last time, Voldemort is dead,” the man snapped back, his face red.

“We don't know that,” she snapped back. She believed Harry Potter that the man was back. Though he might be dead now. The virus might have killed him.  “We do know that Death Eaters are out there, and they are attacking people. We also know that the goblins have taken over the Alleys and for all we know they will attack this school and the ministry. We need the safety in numbers.” She all but stamped her foot in agitation. She hated talking to these blowhards, but they were part of the government.

“Are you going to protect us?” asked the same member.

“Count how many Aurors there are,” Amelia demanded, pointing out how many Aurors she had, which was all of three, not including Tonks. “Do you really think the four of us could hold out against a pack of Death Eaters? We don't know how many there are.” The last count she had there were ten, but that did not include those in Azkaban. She didn’t know how long that prison would hold. Her last count was that there were five prisoners alive, and only one of them was a Death Eater, and that was Rabastan Lestrange.

“So, you expect us to find safety among a bunch of children?” another Wizengamot member demanded. Looking at the motley crew that was assembled in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. There were some students there, but most of them had gone to the Great Hall with the rest of the teenagers. The ones here were being treated for malnutrition and dehydration. The adults here looked like they were not ready to fight a house elf, let alone a Death Eater.

Bones finally lost her temper, slamming her palm down on the edge of a nearby desk. “Look around you, you fool, we have several adults here, and we plan to have more. If we can all band together and fight, we can win against any number of Death Eaters,” she declared, voice ringing through the room. “Besides, the castle is fortified. It's meant to be held against a siege.”

Sirius ran a tired hand through his hair, glancing between Filius and Pomona. “Yeah, about that,” he said, his voice heavy with concern.

“What do you mean?” Amelia sighed, holding her forehead.

“We can't put up the war wards,” Pomona said, wringing her hands.

“Whyever not?”

“They don't have the correct member of staff,” Andi said, when Sprout didn’t speak.

“So, promote people and make the correct number of staff,” Amelia said, thinking that should be simple enough.

“They only have two members of staff. They need five,” Tonks explained, putting a hand on Sprout’s shoulder. She understood why they couldn’t do it. Amelia getting upset wasn’t helping.

“Shite.”

“Exactly,” Sirius said wishing he had a drink.

Bones pressed her lips into a thin line, then pushed away from the desk and began to pace the length of the room, her boots echoing on the flagstones. “Well, we're going to have to do something. Um, can we promote among the students?” she suggested, glancing around at the others for any sign of agreement, even as doubt flickered in her eyes.

“It's never been done before, but I suppose we can promote it among the prefects,” Flitwick said, getting a thoughtful look on his face. They technically worked for the school.

“I'm not sure if that'll work, Filius, we'd have to ask Hogwarts,” Sprout stated, her brow furrowing. She didn’t like asking teenagers to do this type of magic, but those wards would be needed.

“Ask Hogwarts? You mean she's sentient?” Tonks asked with a great deal of wonder. She had always thought so, but she had never been able to prove it. She spent a great deal of time here as a student trying to, but she never got the great castle to speak to her.

“In a manner of speaking,” Pomona said, shyly.

“Well, do what you must, but we've got to get those wards up,” Amelia said, getting them back on track. She strode over to the window, peering out at the storm-darkened grounds as if she might find an answer in the swirling clouds, then turned sharply to face the group once more. They could discuss the school another time.

“I'll do it,” said Flitwick, jumping off the bed he had been sitting on.  “I've got a better ability to speak with her.” He was more in tune with stones than Pomona was. She was better with plants and earth.

“Yes, you do,” said Pomona, smiling at her coworker.

With that, Flitwick hurried off to go commune with the school and see if they could promote among the prefects to get the war wards up. It might be the most vital thing they had to do today.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing

Hphphp

After the students had written their letters and Harry and Fred had talked to a few more of them, Harry took off to see if he could find a place where he could teach the other kids the defensive spells he promised them. He knew he could teach them in the Great Hall, but he wanted to see if there was any other place he could do it. He was wandering around the castle when he came across a most welcome sight. Dumbledore’s ghost.

He was happy to see the ghost of the man he thought of as a grandfather. The ghost was standing there shimmering in robes that looked heavy and colorful. Harry couldn’t see the color, but he knew Dumbledore, and if he could see the color, he knew it would be blinding. The man’s hair and beard were just as long in death as they had been in life.

“Ah, Harry, my boy, just the boy I wanted to see,” Dumbledore said, holding out his arms in a grand gesture. Like he was greeting an old friend, or a young relative. He glided along the hall towards Harry with his arms open like he was going to hug him. He stopped just short of him and smiled down on him.

“Dumbledore,” said Harry, his face lit up with a brilliant smile. Then it fell and he said, “I was very sorry to see you go, sir.” He sounded sad and sincere.

“Do not fret, Harry, I just went on my next great adventure. I am doing well now. I was very old, you know,” the ghost stated, beaming at the young man in his spectral form. “Harry, I needed to let you know that Voldemort is not dead,” he stated with some urgency.

“I don't understand, sir. I know he's not dead,” Harry said, a look of confusion on his face. He knew the man wasn’t dead, he’d been telling people that for ages now.

“No, you misunderstand,” Dumbledore said, making a dismissive gesture.  “He died with the virus, but he is not dead in reality.”

“You're not making any sense, sir” the teenager said, his brow furrowed.

“You see, Harry, Voldemort has made these things known as Horcruxes. That is where he took pieces of his soul and placed them in vessels. As long as those vessels survive, so does he. It is up to you to hunt these down and take care of them, so that he may not come back to life again,” the ghost said, running his hand down his beard, looking over his glasses at Harry with a grave expression.

“How do you know that the virus got him?” Harry asked, looking at him like he was crazy. He didn’t want to have to run around Britain hunting down vessels of the Dark Lord’s soul pieces. He had other things to do, like help keep those here alive.

“I have seen him in the afterlife,” was the answer.

“And you came back to tell me this?” the teen asked, wondering how the old man did that. Was he that powerful that he could come back from the afterlife to haunt the school? He had never heard of any other ghost doing that.

“Yes.”

“And how do you know that he has not passed on for good?” Harry asked, thinking that maybe the vessels were no longer valid.

“Because he made the Horcruxes,” Dumbledore said, like it was the only answer.

“But, sir, if he is in the afterlife, then how do you know the Horcruxes are not defunct?” Harry said, desperate for it to be the answer. It was only logical after all.

“Trust me, Harry, I know what I am speaking about,” Dumbledore stated with an air of superiority.

“No, I don't think you do,” said Sirius as he came upon the two of them talking, with him were Tonks and Andi. They had been going to the Great Hall to talk to the children. They wanted to touch base with Fred and Harry. The rest of the adults were still waiting for Filius to commune with Hogwarts. It might take some time.   

The ghost of the old headmaster turned and smiled at Sirius and said, “Ah, Sirius, you would know of such vile things. But I assure you, the Horcruxes are still in effect.” He looked grave and nodded like his word was the last word on the subject.

Sirius wasn’t going to be dissuaded though. “If Voldemort is in the afterlife, then I am pretty sure that they are no longer in effect. He would be running around as a wraith,” he said, he was sure he was right. If Voldemort was in the afterlife, then the Horcruxes were gone.

“I see,” said Dumbledore, wrinkling his forehead in thought. He didn’t want to think that he was wrong, but Sirius did have a point.

“Professor,” said Harry, wanting some answers to a few questions, “I have a few questions for you, now that you are here. Why did you send me home for Yule? I wanted to spend my time with Sirius.” It had been bothering him for a while now. He knew he had to get out of the castle to get away from Umbridge, but he could have gone to Grimmauld Place.

“Ah, well, you see, Harry, I wanted you to suffer,” the old man said, smiling at him. Being a ghost meant that he saw no point in lying. It didn’t affect him any longer.

“What?” the flabbergasted teen asked, looking like he had been smacked with a fish.

“Yes, I wanted you to spend your time with your relatives and have you suffer some,” the ghost repeated, like he was discussing the weather. It was all relative to him now. “I was not worried; I had spoken to them. I knew they would not hurt you overly much,” he added, eyes twinkling.

“But why?” Harry asked, his throat closing up some with emotion. He looked at Sirius and saw that he was getting angry on his behalf. The dogman’s face was red, Tonks’s and Andi’s weren’t any better.

“To keep you humble, of course,” Dumbledore said with a smirk, like it had been a brilliant plan.

“Is that why you put me with my relatives in the first place?” Harry asked, getting upset and seeing it for the plot that it was. He was starting to see many plans that the headmaster had laid out in his school career.

“But of course, my boy, I had to keep you meek. I couldn't let being the Boy-Who-Lived go to your head,” Albus said, cheerfully.

“But, sir, I did not know I was the Boy-Who-Lived,” Harry protested, not seeing the point of why he had to live with abusive relatives.

“Yes, that was one of my greater plans. You not knowing you were a celebrity kept you humble,” Dumbledore stated, preening like a peacock.

“You knew how they treated me,” Harry accused, pointing a finger at him. “You knew they were abusive when I was a kid,” he all but shouted.

“I knew you would have some dark, lonely years, but alas, I did not know that they would be as dark and lonely as they were,” the old man said, and for once his word held some real sorrow. He seemed to be truly sorry for what Harry had suffered. “And for that I am very sorry. I spoke to them when I found out. That is why they toned it down,” he said, like he had done the boy a favor.

“And when I told you that I didn't want to go back, why did you not let me go and live with Sirius?” Harry asked, more like he demanded. He hated the Dursleys and had really wanted to get away from them. He was not sorry they were dead, not really. Not that he wished anyone dead, but…

“I did not want to lose control of you,” the ghost stated, once more sure of himself.  “I needed you where I could keep you in check.” He peered over his glasses and his eyes twinkled again.

“You see, Harry,” said Sirius, coming up to Harry and putting a hand on his shoulder, “Dumbledore is what you call a Machiavellian type of chess player. He doesn't see people as people. He sees them as pieces on a chess board. He moves them around where he wants them and if they need to be sacrificed for the greater part of the game, then so be it. You were a pawn, or maybe a knight.” He squeezed his shoulder a bit in commiseration.

“Oh,” said Harry, still reeling from all he was learning. He wasn’t really coping well with everything that had happened over the week, now this. Horcruxes, Dumbledore’s betrayal, death everywhere… he just didn’t know what to do with it all. “Well, who is his queen?” he asked, wondering who Dumbledore thought the most important piece was.

“He was, of course,” Sirius said, glaring at the ghost.

“How'd that work out for you, sir?” Harry asked, also glaring at the ghost and smirking as well.

Dumbledore gave him his best disappointed look and said, “Harry, don't listen to Sirius. I need you to go and find those Horcruxes so that Voldemort does not come back.” He wasn’t going to let this go. Even if Voldemort wasn’t a wraith, he was sure he could come back.

Harry was shaking his head and turning away. “I don't know if you know this, sir,” he said, disdain in his tone, “but that virus killed all but 22% of the population. I need to figure out how to prevent even more people from dying. I don't have time to go hunting Horcruxes.” He turned his eyes away from the ghost and glared at the wall.

“But Voldemort will kill more,” the dead headmaster said, desperation lacing his tone.

Sirius straightened his shoulders and stepped protectively between Harry and the ghost. “We will fight off Voldemort, and any Death Eater he brings with him,” he declared, his voice ringing with resolve. He glanced at Harry, determination blazing in his eyes, then rolled up his sleeves as if preparing for a confrontation, ready to defend what little remained of their world.

“Right, I've got things I've got to do. You sit here and talk with the dead headmaster,” Harry said as he walked away. He was beyond upset. He needed to get away from the ghost of the ex-headmaster.

“You really put your foot in it this time, Albus,” said Sirius, keeping the ghost with them. “I have my own bone of contention to pick with you.”

“Whatever for?” asked the old man as he watched the boy go. He didn’t understand why Harry was upset. He had only done what he did to keep the boy safe and modest. If he had not done it, then the boy would have been spoiled and in danger. Well, in more danger than he was now.

Sirius rounded on Dumbledore and snarled at him. He had two years of pent-up frustration to vent. “You left me in that house and didn't get me a trial. It worked out in the end, no thanks to you. The world had to come to an end and now I can walk around free as a bird. I've already spoken to Amelia Bones, and she says it doesn't really matter anymore because there is no law. So, it took the end of the world to get me free, but you could have done it two years ago,” he said, poking his finger in the ghost’s torso. It was like sticking it in freezing gel. His whole hand was now numb.

“Sirius, my boy, you know my hands were tied,” Albus said, spreading his translucent hands in a helpless gesture, truly believing what he was saying. He didn’t feel the need to lie. He thought that it was political suicide to help Sirius at the time, so he did not.

“I know no such thing,” Sirius said, poking him again, no matter that it made his hand cold. “I know you were dragging your feet to keep me away from Harry.”

“I know that too,” said Tonks, folding her arms across her chest. “I and Remus talked about it many times.” They had discussed it in angry tones. Remus didn’t want to believe it, while she did. It was one of the things they fought over.

“Where is Remus?” asked Albus, changing the subject. He was curious as to where the werewolf was.

“The virus affected the werewolves badly,” Tonks said, her voice was husky with sadness. There were tears in her eyes. She was glad that Remus had not bitten her, the scratches were bad enough, but you had to be bitten to transfer the disease.  “They've all gone feral,” she explained.

“That is most disheartening,” the ghost said, shaking his head.  “I had such high hopes for that boy. Where is Severus?” he asked, looking around like the potions master would appear any moment.

“We don't know,” Sirius said, shaking his head.  “I've written him a letter, but he has not responded to me yet.” He was getting the impression the man was dead.

Dumbledore drew himself up, his ghostly form flickering with a sudden urgency. “You will need him in the fight with Voldemort,” he said, pressing his translucent hands together as if trying to emphasize the importance of his words.

Tonks took a sharp step forward, her jaw set with determination. “We will decide what we need without your input,” she said, her tone snapping through the room.

“My dear, what have I ever done to you?” the affronted ghost asked, looking like he had been slapped.

“You kept sending Remus out to speak to the werewolves,” she snarled, her eyes snapping at him, “knowing that at any moment they could turn on him.” It was something else they fought over. She never liked it when Remus went to talk to the werewolves. They didn’t like him. They called him Dumbledore’s Dog.

“He was my only choice,” Albus protested, holding out his hands in supplication.  “He was the only one who could relate to them.”

Tonks stepped forward, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “It was a fool's errand. There was no way that they could relate to him,” she rebutted. “He was the only one who ever attended Hogwarts. And whose fault was that? You never extended that olive branch to them.”

“I couldn't take the chance,” he said, like it was a given.

Tonks paced across the room, boots thudding against the floor, before rounding on Dumbledore. “But you took the chance with Remus. I don't understand why you didn't take the chance with any other werewolf,” she said, confusion evident in her voice.

“There was the incident with Severus. It almost ended up with Remus and Severus being killed,” he explained, shooting an accusing look at Sirius.

“That's bullshit and you know it, Albus,” said Sirius, folding his arms over his chest. “That was a prank gone wrong.” He wasn’t going to take the blame for that. Not after so many years.

“Still, I could not take another chance that that would happen again,” the old man said, holding his hands out in a placating manner.

“I still say it's bullshit,” Sirius said.

“And I still hold my grievance against you for it,” said Tonks. Remus would come back from those missions, either beaten up or upset over the fact that they wouldn’t listen to him. He never got anywhere with them.

“I wonder if any other ghosts are going to be hanging around?” asked Andi, speaking for the first time. She was hoping for some of the teachers to come back. They could teach the students. Not in a classroom setting, but in training like sessions.

“Alas, I do not know,” said Albus.

“It's a pity you came back when you did,” said Sirius with a snort. “Now we have to listen to you and your caterwauling.”

“I beg your pardon,” Dumbledore said, glaring at him over his glasses. “I do not caterwaul.”

“Well, you do give unneeded and unwanted advice,” Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively. “You did it in life, and now you’re doing it in death.”

“Very well then, I will take myself elsewhere,” the ghost said, drifting away.

“Good riddance,” said Sirius and Tonks as they watched him shift through a wall.

Hphphp

Meanwhile, Harry was wandering around the castle, trying to find that place to teach the other kids. He was very depressed over the news he had learned from Dumbledore. He had thought of the man as a grandfather, but to find out that he had been duped so badly, that hurt. He finally stopped looking for a place and slumped against the wall and put his hand in his head and just thought over the matter.

Was Sirius, right? Was it just Albus Dumbledore's type of personality? Was Harry Potter just a pawn? Or a knight? Could he blame a man for being just himself? Was it Harry's own fault for just hanging on to somebody and thinking of him as a grandfather when it was not the man's fault for him being that way? Harry didn't know the answer to these questions, they just kept running around and around in his head. He wished Hermione was here, so he had somebody to talk to.

“Why is Harry Potter, sir, sitting in the hallway like this?” Dobby asked as he popped in.

“Dobby!” said Harry as he jumped up. He hadn't heard the elf pop in. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Dobby is being hearing from Harry Potter's Wheezy that you is being looking for someplace to be teaching the other children's,” the little elf said, bouncing on his spindly toes.

“That's right. Do you know of a place?” Harry asked, more than happy to get away from his thoughts.

“There is being the Come and Go Room,” Dobby said, proud that he had a place for his Harry Potter.

“What's that when it's at home?” the teen asked, wondering why he was telling him about it.

“It is being anything yous wants it to be,” Dobby said, making mystical gestures with his hands. “It can also bes hiding you if the bad guys comes to the castle,” he added, thinking of the smaller children.

“This sounds like a very magical room. Let's go check it out,” Harry said, also thinking of those that can’t fight.

“Dobby will be taking you there right now,” the house elf said, turning and leading the way.

With that, the two of them took off to the seventh floor to go and check out the Room of Requirements. Who knows what they would find there.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

As Harry and Dobby approached the Room of Requirements, they noticed that there was a door already there. It was tall and stately, it soared nearly to the ceiling, fashioned from pale, intricately grained wood that shimmered faintly under the corridor’s flickering torches. Its surface was alive with elaborate carvings—twisting vines entwined with fantastical beasts and symbols of ancient magic—that seemed almost to move when viewed from the corner of the eye. Delicate runes were etched along the frame, glowing softly with a silvery-blue light, and in the very center, set within a lattice of inlaid crystal, was a doorknob shaped like a phoenix in mid-flight. The craftsmanship was exquisite, each detail hinting at secrets and enchantments woven into its very heart, as if the door itself was a guardian, barring entry to all but those who truly needed to find what lay beyond.

“Oh dear,” said Dobby, wringing his long spindly hands, “there is being somebody already there.” He had been hoping to show Harry Potter the Room of Lost Things, but now that wasn’t going to happen.

“How do you know that, Dobby?” asked Harry. He had no idea how the room worked, so he took his friend’s word for it.

“There is being a door,” said Dobby, waving in that direction.

“Oh, maybe we should knock,” the boy wonder said, going to do just that.

“Oh no, Harry Potter, sir, this is being a most secretive place. That is meaning somebody is trying to be keeping a secret,” the little elf said, stopping his friend from making that mistake.

“Oh,” said Harry, glad Dobby had stopped him, and he turned to walk away. But as he took a step, a sudden pulse of magic surged from beneath the door, brushing against his skin like a warm, insistent breeze. Harry staggered, caught off guard, and looked back just in time to see the runes on the door flare brighter. The magical pull grew stronger, tugging him forward, heart pounding now with anticipation and a hint of dread. He squared his shoulders, gripped his wand tightly, and approached, boots echoing on the flagstones. “I think, I need to go into that room,” he said, determination settling over his features as he reached for the phoenix-shaped handle once more.

“Yes, I think you need to be,” said Dobby and the two approached the room.

Harry opened the door and went inside.

Dobby saw that there was someone there and went to the side of the room to observe.

Harry saw Professor Flitwick communing with a large crystal. He hesitated for a moment, then squared his shoulders and strode forward, determination etched on his face. “Professor, I felt the call,” the teenager said, moving to stand at the diminutive man’s side, his hand unconsciously tightening around his wand as he prepared for whatever might come next.

“Come in, come in,” said Filius, cheerfully, as he laid a hand on the crystal. “We will be joined in just a few more minutes. I sent a call to other people too. They will be joining us soon.” He was all but bouncing on his feet. He was super excited, and his voice was almost to the point that dogs could hear it, it squeaked so high.

“What's this all about, Professor?” asked Harry, peering at the crystal with fascination. He had no clue as to what it was or what it did, but it was huge. It was white and pulsing with power. There seemed to be a sentience about it. Like it was trying to communicate, but it lacked the voice to do so. Harry felt emotions coming from it, and right now he felt an urgency.

“We are going to be raising the war wards. To do that, the castle had to promote people among the student body to staff,” Flitwick said, removing his hand from the crystal, and turning to the teenager. He spied the house elf and said, “Dobby, you may go. Harry will be fine here.” He thought it was great that the elf was making sure the boy was safe, but he didn’t want anyone that didn’t belong to the ceremony around.

“Yes, Professor Flitwicky, sir,” Dobby said, and popped away. He knew that Harry Potter was safe in the half-goblin’s hands.

“You mean I'm now part of the Hogwarts staff? What part am I?” Harry said, after Dobby left. He felt confused and concerned. He was too young to be part of the staff. He hadn’t even taken his OWLs yet.

“I do believe, my good sir, that you have been promoted to Deputy Headmaster,” Filius stated, like he was pronouncing him King.

“But I'm only fifteen years old,” protested Harry. He didn’t want that kind of responsibility. He was too young, and he had things he had to do. Then again, it did give him some kind of credibility that he didn’t have before. People would have to listen to him. He thought.

“Don't fret, son, it's only a ceremonial position at this time. More of an apprenticeship,” Flitwick stated, trying to relieve the boy of some of the stress he was feeling.  “I will teach you everything you need to know,” he assured the boy. “We’ll make sure that you get your education and that you understand your position.”

“I see,” said Harry. He didn’t know how this would interfere with his plans to go to the continent. He wondered if he could take a vacation so soon after he was appointed.

Just then, three more people came through the door. Claire Borealis, Pete Twigs, and Fred Weasley, entered with confused looks on their faces. Claire and Pete were the Head Boy and Head Girl this year and it had been a miracle that they both survived. Claire had been one of those that had gone home this year, she was the sole survivor of her family, and she had just arrived back at the school. She had been alone in her house when Poppy Pomfrey had called her and all but demanded she return.

“Professor, what's this all about?” asked Fred, going to Harry's side. He put a hand on the other teen’s shoulder. He could feel a lot of tension there and wondered what had the boy in such a twist. He had been in such a good mood when he had left the Great Hall.

“Ah yes, I see that Hogwarts has chosen well. Mr. Twigs, you will be the new Head of Ravenclaw. Miss Borealis, you are to be the new Head of Slytherin. Which means, unfortunately, that Severus is dead. Mr. Weasley, you are to be the new head of Gryffindor. I am to be the new Headmaster,” Professor Flitwick explained, clapping his hands in glee. He was very excited to be the new head of the school. He had a lot of plans for protecting it. Even if that meant training the students to fight. He knew that meant keeping the goblins out of the castle, and that was a bit of a conflict for him, but to protect the students, he’d do it.

“What's Harry here for?” asked Fred, wondering what the boy had gotten into now. It didn’t seem that a year didn’t go by that the other teen wasn’t in some sort of trouble.

“He's the new Deputy Headmaster,” the new headmaster stated, preening a bit.

“But he's only fifteen/too young,” protested all three of the newcomers, looking aghast. Fred looked outraged on Harry’s behalf.

“And he has protected this school since he was eleven years old,” said Professor Flitwick, having learned this from the crystal. He had heard the rumors, of course, but had put them off as just that, gossip. The castle put him straight and let him know that Harry Potter had been doing things that most adults hadn’t and wouldn’t do to protect the school.

“I must protest too,” said Professor Dumbledore as he came floating into the room. It was as if he had been waiting in the walls.

“You don't have a say in it, I'm afraid,” said Professor Flitwick astonished to see the ghost, but standing firm. “The school has spoken.” To him there was no greater voice in Hogwarts than… Hogwarts.

“Yeah, so bugger off, old man,” said Harry, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at the old man. He was still bitter.

“Mr. Potter!” said Professor Flitwick with his mouth wide open in shock at such language.

Harry crossed his arms, jaw set with a stubborn fire. “I am most wroth with the old man,” he said, his tone far more measured and mature than usual. “We have unresolved matters between us—things I need answers for before I can even begin to understand his actions toward me. I am very unhappy with him.” His eyes flashed as he shot a glare at Dumbledore’s ghost, making it clear he wasn’t interested in reconciliation just yet.

“Still, such language is unbecoming the Deputy Headmaster. You must set an example,” the smaller man stated, wagging a finger.

“I'm fifteen years old,” Harry said, smirking. “I think you should expect such language from me for some time in the future.” He wasn’t one to cuss overly much. However, for the ex-headmaster, he’d make an exception.

“Please refrain from doing so in my presence,” Flitwick stated, looking down his nose at him.

“I'll do my best,” Harry sighed, knowing it was a futile battle.

“Be that as it may,” Filius said, waving the argument away, “we must get the wards up. I need to go and get Pomona.” He moved to leave the room when Fred stopped him.

“Wouldn't she have heard your call when you called the rest of us?” Fred asked, confused as to why she wasn’t there.

“Oh dear, I don't understand. Maybe I should call her again,” said Professor Flitwick, rubbing his chin in thought, and then he laid his hands on the crystal and called Pomona. “We'll give her a couple of minutes and see if she comes.” He moved to where Dumbledore was floating to try and get the spirit to leave. He didn’t want the old man’s ghost to interfere.

“Until then, I must protest once more that Harry cannot be Deputy Headmaster of this school,” said Professor Dumbledore, running his ghostly hand down his beard.

“And again, I say you do not have a say in this,” Filius stated, raising his wand to banish the ghost from the room. He didn’t want to do it, but he really didn’t want the man here. He respected the old man, but he was an interfering old coot.

“I am the headmaster of the school,” Dumbledore declared, puffing up grandly as he floated even higher, his ghostly robes billowing about him in a spectral breeze. He folded his arms, as if gathering authority from the air itself, and fixed them all with an imperious look.

Harry grinned and crossed his arms, leveling a challenging stare at the ghost. “You're dead. You're not the headmaster of anything,” he said, laughing at him.

“That's right,” said Fred, though he really had no idea what was going on. He thought Harry loved the headmaster. “You're dead. You can't protest anything.”

“I don't know what's going on right now,” said Filius, raising his wand, “but, you really don't have a say what's happening right now, Dumbledore. We need to get the wards up and we don't have time to argue with a ghost.” He was readying a wand to get the spirit out of the room when Dumbledore protested one more time.

“Surely there must be a better candidate than Harry Potter to be the Deputy Headmaster. He is unprepared, untrained and far too young,” Albus stated, floating towards the wall before he could be banished.

“He can be trained, and you know as well as I do that the Deputy Headmaster can be as young as twelve years old. It is an apprenticeship situation. He will be apprenticing under me,” Flitwick stated, leveling his wand and pointing it at the ghost’s nose.

“That has not happened in well over 200 years,” once more protesting.

“Well, it is happening now. With the population as depleted as it is, there are going to be a lot of apprenticeships going on,” the diminutive professor declared. He flicked his wand decisively, sending a shimmering wave of magic across the room. The spell struck Dumbledore’s ghost, who let out an impressive wail as he was swept backward through the wall and out of sight, his protests echoing faintly in his wake.

That’s when Pomona came through the door. “Is it time?” she asked as she came bustling over to where Professor Flitwick stood.

“Yes, it is time. We are going to put the wards up,” he said, looking from where Dumbledore had disappeared. He would have to ask Harry what was going on but now was not the time.

“Can we do it from here, or must we go outside?” she asked, wanting to get it done as soon as possible. However, the storm had just passed, and it was wet out.

“We are going to teach the students what needs to be done here, and then we must go outside to do it. We must do it from the four corners of the school, with me and Harry in the center,” Filius stated, going over the logistics. “That and being on the grounds puts us closer to the ley lines.”

“Very well, let us continue.”

With that decision made, Pomona rolled up her sleeves and began directing the students briskly, her voice calm but commanding as she demonstrated the intricate wand movements. Filius moved among the group, correcting postures and encouraging hesitant hands, his own wand flickering with gentle sparks as he set an example. The room bustled with activity—the rustling of robes, the shuffling of feet, and the earnest murmur of incantations. After nearly an hour of intense practice and focused effort, they gathered their cloaks and hurried out onto the rain-slicked grounds, anticipation and nervous energy in every step.

Pomona and the new Heads gathered at the designated points around the castle grounds. Each corner was essential to the integrity of the warding system. The atmosphere was tense yet brimming with determination.

Once in position, with Flitwick in the center of the castle, Harry took a deep breath and began to chant the incantations taught to him. Flitwick's voice rose in synchrony, weaving ancient magic into the fabric of their environment. The air shimmered briefly, tinged with the glow of protective spells, as the wards began to take hold.

The new and old Heads, focusing intently on their task, repeated the chants and added their own energy to the growing shield. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, but they pushed on, motivated by the urgent need to safeguard their haven.

Finally, with the combined efforts of everyone involved, the wards solidified around the castle, giving off a faint, comforting hum. The ancient stones seemed to sigh in relief, enveloped in the renewed protection. As the final word of the incantation echoed, Filius thrust his wand skyward, releasing a cascade of golden sparks that danced above the grounds and then settled like gentle rain, sealing the magic into place.

As they regrouped, faces lit up with accomplishment, knowing their hard work had created a sanctuary against the dark forces outside. The castle stood as a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching shadows.

Now that everyone was safe, Claire, Pete, Fred and Harry, along with Pomona and Filius, retired back to the castle and went to the Room of Requirement. They fed the crystal some magic to charge her.

Once the crystal was charged, they were done. The crystal then sunk back into the floor going back to where it was supposed to be. The wards were completely fulfilled and would hold against the Death Eaters and werewolves. They would only have to worry if they were under siege for days. They would need to be diligent.

Hphphp

While Harry and the new and old staff were discussing the wards, Amelia, Sirius, Tonks and Andi, along with any other able-bodied adult, went about picking up the muggleborn and half-bloods that were living in the muggle world that were still alive. They had received letters back from the owls from the living. Like the rest of the wizarding population, they were very few. There were only around seventy-five left.

They returned to the castle with all their belongings and accommodated them in the available dorms or suites. The allocation was based on age, with children placed in the dorms and adults in the suites.

“It's horrible out there,” Andi told Pomona later that night, when the two of them were sitting swapping information. They both sat in Sprout’s room with cups of tea. “I'm glad you got the wards up because there are a lot of unsavory characters out there just looting everything.”

It had been terrible, there were plenty of people running about just ransacking and trashing everything. There was no law to stop them, and they were not being mindful of anyone or anything. It was madness. There were fires and explosions from where people tried to open places that had been locked up. Cars were on fire, buildings were in ruin, and there was trash everywhere. It was chaos.

“Oh, how do you know that? I thought you were just there to pick up the muggleborn and half-bloods,” Pomona said, sipping her tea. How could they have seen what was going on outside of the houses?

“Sirius got the bright idea to pick off a couple of the grocery stores. We decided to go see if there were any groceries left, and when we got there, there were a bunch of people fighting over what little canned goods there were,” Mrs. Tonks stated, shuddering over the sight that she had seen. It was not a good one to go to bed too.

“Fighting? Oh dear, that's not good. Whatever did you do?” she asked, leaning forward to hear the story.

“Yes, it was terrible. It was as if a riot was breaking out between what few people were left. It was a horrible sight to see. There were children biting on adults and adults beating up small children, and all ages in between. We had to cast a spell on them to get them to stop,” Andi stated, setting her cup on the elegant table next to her chair.

There was a fire burning in the fireplace near their chairs and she was warm for the first time that evening. It had been a long day, and she was more than happy to see the end of it. She was going to curl up with a good book for an hour and then go to sleep.

“Were you able to get any food?” Sprout asked, hoping they had. There were a lot of mouths to feed here.

“No, we left it to them. We simply made them stop fighting and then divided it up amongst the survivors,” she explained, knowing that that had been the correct thing to do.

“So, you were able to make a peaceful solution about it? Well, bully for you,” Pomona stated, giving her a winning smile.

“But it won't last. They'll be out fighting once more on a later date. We can't go back every day and make them be diplomatic to one another, and we can't bring them here,” Andi said with a frustrated sigh. She wanted to grab the children, but Sirius had stopped her. They were almost feral and had run off with the food when they were given it.

“I don't understand why not, we have plenty of room,” Sprout said. She too thought that the children should have been brought to the castle.

“I don't think, uh, most of the people here will go for it,” Andi said, thinking the government officials and the remaining purebloods would have protested.

“I see your reasoning. Too many people here fear what the muggles will do,” Sprout stated, though she couldn’t see what a bunch of scared kids could accomplish.

“Sirius wants to go see what's in the warehouses tomorrow. They might not have been hit like the grocery stores,” Andi said, changing the subject. She was going to go and get those kids, or at the very least check on them. She might assign a house elf to them. She would bring it up with the rest of the adults. If they couldn’t save the adults, they could at least grab the children.

“How does Sirius even know these things?” the Herbology Professor asked, still unsure what to think about Black. So far, he had been helpful and courteous, but he was still a wanted man. Just a few hours ago, she thought of him as a mass murderer.

“He had a lot of time to think about nothing in the last two years,” Andromeda explained, trying to express the man had been bored while on the run.

“Yes, but grocery stores and warehouses in the muggle world? How does he even know these things?” It didn’t make sense to her. The Blacks were purebloods. They hated all things muggle.

Andi looked away and picked up her cooling tea and warmed it with her wand. “Let's just say he spent a lot of time walking around in his dog form when he wasn't supposed to be,” she said, giving away that Sirius had an Animagus form without realizing it.

Pomona smiled at that and wondered if anyone else knew the man had a dog form. “That still doesn't really answer the question, but okay.”

“I know, but that's what Nymphadora told me,” Andi said, looking back at the teacher. “She said he went into a lot of unsavory neighborhoods where he didn't think he would be recognized, and they wouldn't chase him off with rocks and sticks. He is a rather large dog.”

“Still.”

“I know, I know. I'm just letting you know what they told me,” she said, finishing off her tea and putting her cup back down. “Well, I'm off to bed. We can discuss Sirius another day.” She was very ready to hit the hay and sleep until late in the afternoon.

“Very well, I suppose I will go to bed too,” Pomona said, yawning and standing to show the woman out of her rooms.  She was tired after erecting the wards. It had taken a lot out of her. ““Goodnight, my dear.” She walked Andi to the door.

“Yes, goodnight,” Andi said, leaving the room. Tomorrow will hopefully be a slow day.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

Everybody was sitting down to breakfast, which wasn’t as elaborate as it usually was. Flitwick had cut down on the food, rationing it for now. He decided that until they knew the food situation, they were going to do medium rations. Not to the point that anyone would starve to complain, but enough that there wouldn’t be a full English every morning. There were, however, porridge, grits, eggs, toast, fruits of all kinds, rashers, sausage and pork chops. Plenty for everyone to have something.

Everybody was surprised to see the ghost of Albus Dumbledore floating around, giving advice to students, whether they wanted it or not. Mostly he was telling them not to listen to Harry Potter because he was far too young to be the Deputy Headmaster of the school. There were a great number of students that were listening to him. Especially those that didn’t like the boy.

It got to the point where Professor Flitwick stood up on his chair and said, “Professor Dumbledore, you will cease and desist what you are saying right now. Hogwarts has decreed that Harry Potter is to be the Deputy Headmaster of the school. You have no right to contradict her.” He was fuming that the man would undermine him in such a manner.

“I am merely stating my opinion,” said the ghost in such a way that indicated he was not guilty of anything nefarious.

Filius Flitwick squared his shoulders, the silver tip of his wand glinting ominously as he leveled it at the drifting apparition. “You are trying to sow hate and discontent among the students,” the new Headmaster declared, his voice resolute. With a sharp flick of his wrist, a few sparks crackled at the wand’s tip—a silent warning that he was prepared to banish the ghost for good if provoked further, the air in the hall tightening with the possibility of confrontation.

“I am doing no such thing,” Albus said, putting his hand to his chest, his ghostly eyes twinkling.

“Yes, you are, and I do not know why. We are trying to establish a community here and you are trying to cause chaos. Continue it and I will banish you. I have already gotten rid of Peeves. I have no problem getting rid of you,” Flitwick stated, having gotten rid of the poltergeist this morning. It had taken a lot out of him, but it had to be done. There was too much at stake to keep the bothersome spirit around. He was too disruptive and would not listen to Flitwick when he was told to behave.

“You have banished Peeves?” was the shocked question. It had never crossed Dumbledore’s mind to banish the poltergeist. To him the spirit was harmless.

“Yes, he was a menace to the society that we are trying to establish, and I will not have him creating anarchy,” Filius stated, holding up his wand to show he meant business. “Therefore, I will not have you doing the same.”

“Oh dear, he was the school spirit,” Albus said, fretting with his beard, like Flitwick had done something that would harm the school.

“He was doing a horrible job of it because he was not uplifting the students’ spirit at all,” Professor Flitwick explained like he was speaking to an idiot. “If anything, he was bringing the spirit down.”

“Did you ask Hogwarts if it was a good idea?” Albus asked, looking over his spectacles like he was talking to a disobedient grandchild.

Flitwick smiled an evil smile and said, “Who do you think told me to?”

At this Dumbledore frowned. “I don't understand,” he said, looking at the walls of the castle like he had been betrayed.  “She never told me to do such a thing.”

“You never had good communication with the school,” Filius said, looking smug. He knew the school stop talking to the old man ages ago when he didn’t listen to her.

The students were muttering among themselves and pointing at one Headmaster or the other. They were taking sides and starting to argue as to who was in the right. Most were taking Flitwick’s side, but those taking Dumbledore’s side were louder. They usually were.

“Do you think now is a good time to have this conversation?” asked Pomona, concerned over the talking she was hearing in the student body. “I mean in front of the students?” she asked, waving to the students, who had quieted when she stood up.

“Unlike the former Headmaster, I don't see the need to hide it from the students,” said Filius, though he too didn’t like the gossip that was happening. He would have to address that. He had kept his mouth shut when it happened when he was a teacher, that would not happen now that he was the headmaster. He would not let what happened in Harry’s second and fourth year happen again.

Albus drew himself up to his full height, his spectral  robes swirling about him as if lifted by an unseen wind, eyes flashing with indignation. “How dare you,” he said, looking completely affronted.

“Oh, I very much dare,” said Flitwick, standing to his fullest height. He was standing on his chair as it was, so he could be seen, so he was standing as tall as Pomona. “I know exactly how much you hid from these students and how much it hurt them in the long run. I know you didn’t tell them the truth about Harry Potter’s exploits,” he added, glaring at the old man.

“I told them exactly what they needed to know,” protested the ex-Headmaster, his eyes were shifting from side to side.

Many of the students looked at him like they knew he was lying to them, if only by omission. They too knew the gossip, and wondered how much of it was true. There were things in the rumors that were too glorious that couldn’t possibly be true, but there had to be a kernel of truth to the rumors.

“You told them exactly what you thought they needed to know,” said the current Headmaster. “And that was usually only for fearmongering, or to boost your own ego,” he sneered, looking down his nose at the man.

“I still don't think that this is the proper place to have this argument,” said the Herbology professor, fretting her hands. She could see the students start talking again.

“Yes, let's take this to your office,” said Dumbledore already drifting towards the walls. He would do anything not to have his reputation sullied anymore than it already was.

“Very well, Harry, Fred, Claire, Pete joined me in my office. You too, of course, Pomona,” Flitwick said, hopping off his chair, and marching towards the door. “Students, behave.  Poppy and the rest of the adults will be keeping an eye on you,” he said, looking to all the parents and the Aurors that were all staring at him and the remaining staff of Hogwarts.

They were staring at him like he had lost his mind. Who argued with Dumbledore?

“I was thinking it would just be you and I,” said Dumbledore, stopping just short of disappearing through the walls.

“If I recall, it was never, just you and anybody else,” said Flitwick, thinking that he always had Snape in the office with him.

“Be that as it may,” was all Albus said.

“They will be attending,” Flitwick stated, making a slashing motion.

“Can I come along too?” asked Sirius, getting up from the table. He threw his napkin down and went to the group. He really wanted to join them.

“Whatever for?” asked Dumbledore, narrowing his eyes at the other man. He didn’t want Sirius to be there. The man wasn’t part of the Hogwarts staff. He didn’t want the staff to be there. He felt they were all too young and didn’t need to hear what was going on. It should be just him and Filius, and perhaps Pomona.

“Honestly, I want to see you taken down a peg or two,” said Sirius, smiling a shit-eating grin. He was still upset with the man, more over what he had done to Harry than what he had done to him.

“Isn't that rather petty of you?” asked Harry, tilting his head to the side. He really didn’t know Sirius all that well, but he was seeing that he was rather immature. These last few days showed that he was lackluster and lazy. He was more a go with the flow type man, than a take charge man. That might change now that the world had come to an end, but… perhaps it has to do with him spending so much time in Azkaban. He did go in there at a young age and didn’t get to mature in the real world. That must be it.

“I'm a very petty guy,” said Sirius, ruffling the boy’s hair. He was too; he always had been. Just ask Snape.

“Oh, right,” said his godson, giving him a funny look.

“Don't worry about it, Harry. I just have a few things I have to say to the old man. And if Filius is going to banish him, I want to make sure that I get it said,” the dogman stated, waving his concern away. He knew he needed to up his game soon. He needed to start taking charge, but he really wanted to lay into the old man.  He’d do what he needed to do tomorrow. Today he was going to be an immature brat. Just one more day, right?

“What could you possibly say to me that you have not already said?” asked Albus with a sigh.

“Nothing I want to say in front of the children,” said Sirius, glancing at the student body, who was still hanging on their every word for all they couldn’t really hear them.

“No, I think I will keep it between just me and my staff at this time,” said Filius, shaking his head. He thought that he and his staff should put Albus in his place for now and set some boundaries. If Albus didn’t like it, then he would be banished. “I promise you I will not banish him unless he gets too big for his britches.”

“He gets that way every time he opens his mouth,” whinged the dogman, making his eyes big.

“I will do my best to refrain from it,” chuckled the smaller man.

“Fine, but I'm keeping you to your word,” Sirius said, moving off to go and do something else. He’d go and talk to the house elves. He had plans he needed to enact.

With that, the new staff and Dumbledore went to the Headmaster's office to have a little talk. They settled around in chairs with the ghost floating in the middle of the room.

The room had taken on a drastic change from the old man’s time. Gone were all the trinkets and gizmos. It was as if something had come in and gutted the room and put in a regular wooden desk and customized chair. There were blocks around so that magicals could transfigure their own chairs.  There were stuffed animal heads on the walls, with a tapestry of a battle on the wall opposite the Headmaster portrait wall. There was a fur rug on the floor that took up the whole room, which was good with its stone floor. Harry didn’t know what kind of animal was that big, or who would have killed it, but it was huge.

“Dumbledore, you will not incite discord among the student body against Harry. I will not put up with it. I will banish you if I see you do it again. There will be no questions, you will not get to defend yourself. I will simply cast the spell, and you will be gone,” Filius said as he sat in the chair that had been specially designed for him. It stood as tall as a normal chair but had steps leading up to the seat. It was exquisitely designed with carvings of goblin origin on the front.

“I find that extremely unfair,” Dumbledore stated, looking over his ghostly glasses at the man.

“I don’t care. This is your only warning. I don’t like you, Albus. You did this school a lot of harm in your time as the Headmaster. I had a long talk with Hogwarts last night, and she is not happy with you either,” Filius stated, picking up a quill and jotting down some notes that had to do with the teaching of the students.

He handed them to Pete, who read them and then handed them to Claire. Pomona read them over Claire’s shoulder. She didn’t approve, but knew she was outvoted. Fred and Harry got the notes next, and they agreed with what was written. They started communicating among themselves in whispers on how to use the Room of Requirements to pull it off.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore and Filius were glaring at each other.

“I would think that my time as the Headmaster would have given me some leeway,” Albus said, folding his arms over his incorporeal chest.  

“It’s your time as the Headmaster that is allowing me to give you this warning,” Flitwick said, smirking at him.

“What did he do?” Pomona asked, looking at the two men. The rest of the group stopped talking and listened in.

“He used this school as his personal playground,” Filius said, a growl in his tone. “He was raising the children under his own doctrine. He wanted to have his own utopia, and he was brainwashing the children to be part of his regime,” the diminutive Headmaster stated, going over the basics of what the old man had done.

“You’re exaggerating,” Dumbledore said, waving his hand dismissively. To him, he wasn’t lying. He didn’t think he had done that. To him, he was raising the children as he would have raised his own.

“The only reason it didn’t work is because you’re a pacifist. If you weren’t then you could have taken the wizarding world much sooner,” Filius said, snarling at the man. He slammed his hand on the desk, startling everyone there.

“He did take over the wizarding world, in a way,” Fred pointed out. “He held three offices that controlled large parts of the government, or in this case, the children.” It was something he and George talked about many times. They never liked that Dumbledore held so many offices. That was too much power in the hands of one man.

Flitwick crossed his arms, his expression unyielding. “You are correct,” he stated, thinking that over. “Congratulations, Albus, you accomplished what you wanted. You controlled the wizarding world. Too bad you didn’t use it for good,” he said, sneering at the ghost.

“You’re wrong. We lived in harmony for many years under my rule,” Albus said, knowing that they had at least ten years of peace.

“That was thanks to Harry, not you,” Fred said, bursting that bubble.

“I will not debate with children,” Dumbledore said, dismissing him without cause.

 “Debate with me then. You did nothing. The purebloods still reigned and the Wizengamot did nothing to help the muggleborn while you ‘ruled’,” Flitwick said, standing on his desk to get in the ghost’s face. That was why the desk was plain, he knew he’d be standing on it a lot.

Dumbledore floated out of the man’s way and moved to the window. “I could not control the government,” he said, dismissively.

“You’re a fool. I am done talking to you,” Flitwick said, waving his wand and banishing him from the office. He knew one day he’d banish him for good, but he had promised Sirius.

Hphphp

After that, Flitwick asked Harry to send Sirius a Patronus to have him join them. Sirius was soon there, looking confused. “What's up, pup? I thought you guys didn't want me in here.”

It was Filius that answered, “I was wondering what your plans were? I need to coordinate with you.” He had ideas and plans to make, but he wanted to make sure they didn’t step on each other’s toes. He’d get with Amelia next.

“I'm just going along with what Harry's doing,” said Sirius with a shrug. “I thought he wanted to go to the continent, but now that he's the Deputy Headmaster I don't know what his plans are.” He liked the thought of staying here. It was secure and their friends were here. That and he needed to take care of Remus. He owed it to his friend to kill him himself, Remus would have wanted that. If Greyback is still alive, he’d need to take care of him too.

“I don't know what my plans are,” said Harry, worrying his hands. He really wanted to go to the continent. Sure, Hogwarts was great and all, but they were closed in and locked down. “Now I've got responsibility, I can't just go buggering off to anywhere I please. However, I really want to find out if Hermione is alive. She's not answering my letters, but she might just be too far away.”

“Oh dear,” said Flitwick, not liking the sound of that. He knew once Harry Potter got a plan in his head, he didn’t get rid of it easily. He really needed him here though. Hogwarts wouldn’t have picked him if he wasn’t needed.

“Yes, she and her family were taking a vacation in France for the holidays,” Harry said, his voice thick, looking at his folded hands with some tears in his eyes. He was losing hope that his best friend was alive. He had already lost Ron; he really didn’t want to lose Hermione.  “I don't know if she's just out of range for my Patronus and my letters.”

“Was there any other reason you wanted to go to the continent?” Fred asked, trying to take his mind off Hermione. He could hear it in the other teen’s voice, he was about to lose it.

“I don't want to be stuck on this island. If things get bad, there's nowhere to run. We’re surrounded by water. There will be no way off, unless you know how to drive a boat,” Harry said in a joking manner.

Flitwick smiled at that and then got serious. “Hogwarts is a fortified castle,” he said, rubbing his chin.  “We can withstand any siege for months on end, as long as we have Hogsmeade.”

Harry perked up a bit at that. He knew how he could help with that. “I know my house elves have farms,” he said, puffing out his chest a bit.  “So, we won't have to worry about food. Well, at least not in the spring, summer and fall. I don't know about winter, and I don't know about meat. I'll have to ask Dobby about that,” he added, not knowing if there was beef or pork on those farms. He assumed there were probably chickens. He never heard of farms without chickens.

That got the Headmaster’s attention. It would help a great deal, however, Filius said, “Hogwarts is relatively self-sufficient. We have a small farm on the property. We have some dairy, and we have some meat in the village. We've been tending to ourselves for a very long time and have been able to feed and house students for over 1000 years. But that's as long as we have Hogsmeade. If we are cut off from the town then we are not so self-sufficient.” He was thinking that maybe some of that farmland should be moved to the school and the kids could be taught to tend to it. There won’t be much schooling going on in the near future.

Now that the war wards were up, they’d need to put some of them in the wards anyway. Just to protect them.

“We have all the food that we scavenged before we came here,” Sirius offered, rubbing his goatee. He was more than willing to share their bounty. “Plus, I have plans to go and search the warehouses in the muggle world.”

“Whyever do you want to do that?” asked Flitwick, completely puzzled over his raiding the muggle world. There were plenty of buildings in the wizarding world that could be looted. Then again, those might be controlled by the goblins by now.

“For food, of course, and other resources. We may be magical, but we're going to need things,” Sirius said, confused as to why he was even asking. He thought it was obvious.

“What sort of things?”

“Candles, wax, food, paper, clothes, et cetera, et cetera,” Sirius said, ticking them off on his fingers.  “Things that the house elves aren't going to be able to reproduce without materials. So, we're going to need to get those materials. I plan on taking the house elves with me so that they can grab them.” He had already talked to Dobby to talk to Tibby, who was Hogwarts head house elf. That’s what he had been doing when they called him.

“That would make it much more efficient,” said Harry, thinking that was a great idea.

“With magic we can clear out an entire warehouse in under a minute. Well, maybe not that fast, but you know what I mean,” the dogman stated, snapping his fingers to show what he meant.

Harry nodded in agreement, a spark of excitement lighting in his eyes. He drummed his fingers on the table, then glanced around at the others, clearly eager to put the plan into motion. “It would take far less time than it would without magic,” he said.

“But you're talking about stealing from the muggles. Won't they need it?” the new Headmaster asked. He didn’t like the idea that they would be making it harder for the survivors in the muggle world. They had plenty here in the wizarding world.

“I'm sure that there will be some survivors that do need this, and I plan on trying to grab as many good survivors as possible and bring them back here, with your permission of course, but we need this for the children. It is the survival of the fittest time,” Sirius said, looking hard at the man. He didn’t want him to have a bleeding heart like Dumbledore. He needed him to grasp his goblin heritage and be a hard arse. Well, not quite like the goblins, but a warrior that would think of the children and their needs.

“But we have magic, and we can do without these things, and those people do not,” Flitwick argued, narrowing his eyes at the ex-con as he tapped his wand thoughtfully against the arm of his chair.

“Which is why I want to bring them back here,” Sirius said, making a gesture with his hands.

“How will you be able to tell the good ones from the bad ones?” asked the diminutive man, not sure where the man was going with this.

“Pour Veritaserum down their throat,” was the answer. Like that was a potion that grew on trees.

“I'm not sure if that's morally correct,” said Flitwick, shaking his head and grabbing the bridge of his nose. He let out a weary sigh, his wand tapping lightly against the table in a restless rhythm. “Besides, where are you going to get it?”

“Bones,” Sirius said, grinning like a fool. He had already talked to her too. He was going to raid the Department of Mysteries, there were plenty of potions down there and no Unspeakables. He’d have to be careful, there were a lot of unattended experiments down there too.

“I like that answer,” said Fred speaking for the first time. He and the other Heads had stayed silent until now, not really having much to say. However, he really did like that idea.

“I figured you would,” said Harry with a grin that matched his godfather’s.

“Can I come with you?” asked Fred, looking at Sirius.

“No, I think it should just be me in the house elves. The fewer the better,” said Sirius, rubbing his chin. He really did think he should go it on his own. Just him and the elves. They could go in, get out; no muss, no fuss.

“All right then,” the disappointed Fred said, settling back in his chair. He was getting bored here. He’d only been here for a day, and he was already bored. Then again, he’d only been a Head of House for a few hours. Maybe he should learn more about that first.

“I can't even go,” said Harry with a shrug.

Sirius leaned back in his chair, folding his arms decisively. “There's going to be a lot of bad people out there trying to scavenge these items. I don't want you lot getting in trouble. If it's just me and the house elves, we can get in and out, quick as can be,” he said, trying to explain himself, his eyes flicking between the assembled faces for understanding.

“Wouldn’t it be faster if you had more hands?” asked Claire, not wanting to go, but thinking that others might. They had a lot of adults with nothing to do. If they gave them something to do, then they might not get into mischief.

“She's got a point,” said Pete.

“Look, I don't know you two, but when it comes to finding trouble, this lot right here finds it no matter how hard they try to not look for it,” said Sirius, pointing to Fred and Harry with a mock-accusing finger. He leaned forward, arching an eyebrow in challenge as a mischievous grin tugged at his lips.

“Oi,” said Fred, smiling right back. “I go looking for trouble. It's Harry that finds it without looking.” He elbowed Harry playfully.

“Hey,” said Harry.

“What? It's the truth.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to point it out,” protested the teenage boy.

“Fun as this is, Sirius has a point. It would be much simpler for just him in the house elves,” Filius said, thinking the same thing. Though he was going to send some of the house elves and the purebloods around to the warehouses here in the wizarding world.  “If we find we need to get more than one warehouse at a time, then we will send out groups of people with the house elves.” That sounded like a good plan as well.

“That sounds like a plan,” said Sirius.

“All right then,” said Harry, shrugging his shoulder. He was just glad that Sirius wasn’t folding. He was doing something without bowing out. That was progress. “Just be safe out there, Sirius,” he said with some earnest.

“I will do my very best,” the older man said. He wasn’t worried about it. It was just a dash and grab. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

This is not one of my well-read stories. It is so far from what I usually write. So, I do thank you for reviewing, it means a lot to me.

Hphphp

While Flitwick was dealing with Dumbledore and Sirius, Andi was going into the muggle world and checking on the children she had seen the day before. She took Tonks with her since she wasn’t stupid enough to go alone. She knew there might be unsavory people out there. She had seen them fighting over food yesterday. Her daughter was an ex-Auror she knew how to fight.

“I really want to bring them back to Hogwarts,” she told her daughter as they had one of the house elves take them to the gates. With the war wards up that was the only way off the grounds. “They would be safe there,” she added, just wanting the kids off the street.

“What about Flitwick?” Tonks asked, as she waited for the elf to get ready. “What does he say?”

“I am sure he will be fine with it,” she said, waving it away. The elf popped them to the gate and they Apparated to the muggle world. As soon as they landed in an alley near where Andromeda and Sirius had been yesterday, Andi adjusted her coat, squared her shoulders, and peered cautiously around the corner, scanning for any sign of movement. They had been getting one of the muggleborn to take back to the school and Andi remembered where it was.

“We really should have told someone we were leaving,” Tonks said, once they got to the general area. She was concerned that they had left without letting anyone know. They simply left right after breakfast. Her mother hadn’t even given her time to grab anything other than her wand. Not that she had more than that, but she would have liked to have grabbed another cloak. It was bloody cold out here.

“I told Pomona last night,” Andi said, waving her away again. Sure, it had been a generalization, but she had let the woman know she’d be out here. She knew they were somewhere near here. They wouldn’t have gotten far.

“Mum, did you tell her where we’d be, or just mention that you were going out?” the younger of the two asked, knowing her mother and how she acted. She was impulsive when she wanted to be.

“I said I was going to get the kids by the grocery store,” she said, looking sheepish as she fiddled with the hem of her coat.

“Mum, there are hundreds of grocery stores in the UK,” Tonks said, looking exasperated.

“Oh dear,” Andi said, trying to look contrite, but pulling it off badly. She knew that, she had been in the muggle world for over twenty-five years. She married into it after all.

Tonks sent a Patronus off to Kingsley and told him about where they were and what they were doing. That would let someone know if they weren’t back in a few hours. She kept her wand out and ready, she didn’t trust anyone, not after what had happened with Remus.

They went to the Tesco that Sirius and Andi had gone to yesterday to see if there were any of the children there. There were none; it was empty of anyone or anything really. It had been gutted. The shelves were lying on the floor and some of the boxes were ripped apart with food laying scattered on the ground, useless and ruined. It was a shame that it was lost, but that’s what happened when people fought over resources, they got wasted.

“This is futile,” Tonks said, casting a human revealing spell to see if anyone was around. She didn’t find anyone. There wasn’t even a rat in the area. There were, however, some bugs, those didn’t seem to be affected. They were in the rotting meat and milk that was all over the freezer and refrigerator section of the store. The smell was horrendous. “There’s no one around here for at least thirteen meters,” she informed her mother, trying to breathe through her mouth.

“Bugger,” Andi said, looking around and picking a direction. “Let’s go that way. They’re probably nearby,” she suggested.

They started going to the alleys around the store and would work their way out from there. They walked in circles and went from building to building for a good five block radius until they came upon a group of children. The trip there was dismal, and eerie. There was nothing to give them hope that there would be any surviving the new world. It was as if everyone, and thing, just disappeared.

All those houses and buildings were empty. They had been rifled through and everything that was useful had been removed. Even things that weren’t useful had been taken. It was as if someone had come along with a moving van and taken everything from all the houses there. Even the TVs, which was just stupid, there wasn’t anyone broadcasting. Then again there were still movies on DVDs and tapes.

“Finally,” Andi said, when she spotted the kids. She had just about given up hope.

The children froze and were getting ready to run. They didn’t trust adults, the ones they met in this area would steal their food and tried to kidnap them for slave labor. It was as if none of them ever had kids.

Tonks stepped forward quickly, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, eyes scanning the ragtag group. “Wait! We want to help,” she called out, her voice steady but gentle. In a swift, practiced motion, she flicked her wand, freezing the two runners in their tracks with a silent spell before they could bolt down the alley.

Andi immediately raised her hands to show she meant no harm, glancing around for any other signs of movement.

“We have a safe place to stay with food and shelter,” Tonks continued, moving to block the nearest exit in case any more children tried to escape. She tried to sound reassuring, taking care not to frighten them further, her gaze meeting the wary eyes of each child in turn.

None of the other kids seem to notice that the two runners were frozen. They were near the wall and everyone else was by the barrel fire. They were living in a house that had belonged to one of the children’s family. There was a burn-barrel in the middle of the room providing heat and a place to cook.

“What do we have to do for it?” said the oldest girl, who looked like she had lived on the streets before the illness took over the world. She was dressed as a hooker with furs and a miniskirt. She was not dressed for the weather.

The rest of the children were dressed in whatever they could find, which considering all the houses were open to them, until they were gutted, was a good selection of clothes. However, children being children, it was a rather motley assortment of clothing. None of it matched, and all of it looked eccentric. However, it looked warm and layered. Some of them were wearing up to three hats, and multiple scarves.

“I’m not sure, but I doubt it’ll be much of anything. I think you’ll have to attend classes,” Andi said, thinking that Flitwick would insist on at least that much. “I think there might be some farm work that might need to be done,” she added, not quite sure about that. Pomona had mentioned greenhouse work, and she was sure that they were going to put the kids to work on the farm on the grounds to keep them busy.

“I think they are going to teach the kids to fight too,” Tonks added, knowing that Harry was going to do that. She wasn’t sure about muggle kids, but she knew that she was going to suggest it.

“We’re going to learn to fight?” asked one of the younger children, looking eager to do that. He was hurt in the fight yesterday. His foot was swollen, and it looked like it might have been broken. They had wrapped it and shoved it in the boot he was wearing, but it hurt to walk on it.

“Yeah,” Tonks said, smiling at the boy. He had a few bruises on his face, and he looked like he was in pain. The first thing they were going to do was get these kids to Poppy. She looked at all their faces and noted they were all scraped and bruised.

“I’ll come,” said the boy.

“I want all of you to come,” Andi said, looking at the ten kids. “This is no place for children. If you can behave yourself and obey the rules, you can come to our safe place,” she offered. She was determined to get as many people as possible to Hogwarts.

“I don’t want to go with you,” the oldest girl stated, looking down her nose at the women. She was the first girl that had spoken. She didn’t trust these people and it sounded like there would be too many rules.

“I won’t force you, but I think you’re making a mistake. This is a kill or be killed world now,” Tonks told her. She knew that there would be those that wouldn’t like being in a safe house. They were nomads by nature and would rather wander. Remus had been like that; Sirius was that way to an extent. She had a feeling that Harry was like that too. They were going to have a hard time keeping him at Hogwarts.

“It was that way before the sickness,” the girl rebutted with a shrug.  

“For you maybe, but not the rest of these kids,” the metamorphmagus stated, waving at the younger kids, who were watching the two of them debate.

“I still don’t want to come with you. What you do with the rest of these brats is up to them,” the girl said, sneering at the other nine kids.

“But, Wendy, I thought you liked us?” a girl squeaked, she was in the middle of the age bracket. She had twin braids running down her shoulders and was wearing bib overalls with a dress over them. She was also wearing snow boots and a snow jacket that was bright pink.

“I don’t care one way or the other,” the now named Wendy stated. “I can make it better on my own,” she insisted. She only hooked up with the kids to keep them out of trouble. She didn’t trust the adults in the neighborhood. She wanted to make sure that the kids stayed away from them. She had been teaching them how to hide and steal. Now that they have a place to go, she can go back to the downtown area.

“I’ll go with them,” one of the other boys said, pointing at Tonks and Andi. “I’m tired of being hungry,” he added, getting nods from most of the group.

They were all tired of hiding and running. They missed their parents and didn’t like being alone without adults around. It had been cool at first, but now it was just lonely.

“Do you know of any other survivors?” Andi asked, looking at the kids. She was hoping to find some good adults too. They would be helpful in watching the children. That and they would need help in training them.

“There’s a group of adults around, but their a nasty bunch,” Wendy stated, wrinkling her nose.

“None other than that?” Andi asked, looking around, like there should be more. There had to be more, 22% meant that there were more somewhere.

“Not around here,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “There’s more in downtown London with a larger population and community. I’m going there to see if I can join. I would have taken the kids, but they’re low on food and prefer workers, which I can do.”

“Okay, I’ll take the kids to Hogwarts,” Andi said, smiling at the girl.

“I’m leaving then,” Wendy said, slipping out of the house. She didn’t even say goodbye.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Tonks asked, looking at the door the girl had left from.

“I hope so,” Andi said, gathering the children around her. “I am going to let you in on a secret,” she said with a smile and a wink.

“What?” a small girl asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

“Magic is real,” the older woman said with a mysterious smile.

“Get out,” a boy stated with a disappointed frown. He didn’t think now was the time for fairytales.

“No really, and I’m going to take you to a magical castle,” Andi stated, taking out a piece of rope she had prepared last night. “Grab ahold of the rope and I’ll show you,” she said, making sure that they all grabbed on.

“You’d better put a sticking charm on them,” Tonks stated, not liking the odds of them holding on. Her hair changed color, causing the children to gasp. She had unfrozen the two kids ages ago and they were with the others. They seemed to accept that magic was real enough.

“Did you teach your grandmother to suck eggs?” Andi asked, laughing at her daughter.

“Sorry,” the younger woman said, chuckling a bit.

Andi put a sticking charm on the kids and then said the word to activate the portkey, and they were whisked away, the kids screaming the whole time. It would drop them off in front of Hogwarts.

Hphphp

Sirius decided to take on the warehouse district in his dog form. He went to the area he used to roam when he was antsy at Grimmauld Place. He popped over there by himself, transformed into a dog and started running around sniffing everything.  There were a lot of scents and most of them were foul. Unwashed bodies and rancid food. He didn’t know if the power was still on or not, but he was going with not.

There were burn-barrels everywhere, so there were people around. Not many, but somewhere. He stayed cautious. He edged around the walls, and stuck to the shadows, which was hard for him, he was a large dog. Yet it was easy at the same time because of his coloring. He saw a few men that looked shady, so he stayed away from them.

He made his way to the warehouses and found that most of them had been left alone, because they couldn’t be opened. There were bars on the windows and doors. Not a problem for him, he was magical. It wasn’t that the people hadn’t tried, there were marks on the windows and doors showing that they had attempted to be broken or wedged to open. The glass was broken and shattered on the ground, but the bars were secured.

He made sure that no one was around, transformed back into a wizard and cast the spell to open the door. It took three spells, since there were three locks, and he was in. He made sure to lock the door behind him once he entered the warehouse. He moved to the center of the building, cast a light spell, and saw a myriad of items. This was a distribution center, and it was packed full. Everything was in packages, which was good, it would make it easier to transport. He was going to gut it.  

He called Tibby and Dobby, and they would call all the other house elves. It would take a matter of minutes to clean this joint out. Okay maybe a half an hour to an hour, but that wasn’t much time in the scheme of things.

Hphphp

Andromeda and Nymphadora landed with the nine children outside the gates of Hogwarts. The kids couldn’t see the castle and were upset that they had been duped. They were, to them, standing in the middle of a burned-out ruin. It was cold and there was a forest on one side, and a meadow on the other. No castle.

“You call this a magical castle?” one girl said, trying to drop the rope. It was stuck fast to her hand.

“Aren’t you impressed that you are no longer in the house?” Tonks asked, waving her wand and unsticking their hands.

“I’m impressed,” one kid said, shaking his hand and jumping up and down now that they were in the cold.

“I was promised a magical castle,” the first girl stated, stamping her foot. She was about seven years old. “Where is the castle?” she said, crying out loud.

“There’s a spell on it to protect it,” Andi said, looking in the gate to see if Hagrid was coming, “so the bad men don’t come and hurt the people inside,” she explained. “You will see it when I talk to the man in charge,” she promised.

Hagrid was coming down the walkway, and the children saw him. They still didn’t see the castle, but they saw the giant of a man coming their way. Some got scared and hid behind the women, others were fascinated.

“Cor,” one boy said in wide-eyed wonder, “he’s huge.”

“Is he going to eat us?” a small girl asked, hiding behind Tonks.

“No, he’s a gentle giant,” Tonks said, putting a hand on her head.

“Mrs. Tonks, wha’ do you ‘ave ‘ere,” Hagrid asked, looking at all the scared children with a great deal of confusion. He knew they weren’t students. They were too young and didn’t look like magicals. Not pompous enough. They dressed like them though. He could be wrong.

“I need to speak to the Headmaster,” Andi said, shivering in the cold. “Could you go and get him for me?” she asked politely.

“Why don’t you cast the Patronus, Mum?” Tonks asked, casting a warming charm on everyone.

“Wow/Wicked,” said the kids, looking at their now warm hands in wonder.

“I don’t know that spell,” she said, nodding her head in thanks for the warmth. She was one of the many adults that never learned that spell.

“I’ll do it,” Tonks said, casting the spell asking Flitwick to come to the gate. “You’d better hope he’s not busy. He has a lot to do, you know,” she said, looking around the grounds for something for the children to do. Then she remembered they couldn’t see anything.

“I want to see the castle,” the first girl was whinging.

“You will, my dear. I just have to talk to the man in charge first,” Andi repeated, putting her hand on the girl’s head and patting down her curls.

“Why don’t you kids play with this for now,” Tonks said, making a ball of light that would bounce around. The kids could try to catch it. That would keep them occupied until Filius got there.

It took the man ten minutes to get to the gates, as the kids played in the snow, so he must have been busy with something, or on the other side of the building. “Mrs. Tonks, what can I do for you, and where did you get these children?" he inquired, looking at the children with a look of confusion. He had no idea anyone would be bringing people so soon.

“These children are what I want to talk to you about. I want to bring them into Hogwarts. I can’t do that without your permission,” Andi said, tapping on the war wards. They shimmered under her administration. That caused the kids to look on with awe again.  

“They’re muggles,” he lightly protested. He didn’t really care, but he felt the need to point that out. He knew that was going to cause some riff among the others in the school. Not that it mattered, he was in charge.

“Here now, what the hell did you just call me?” the oldest boy asked, taking a menacing step forward. He was around thirteen years old.

“That means you don’t have magic,” Tonks said, taking his jacket and pulling him back.

“Oh, that’s alright then, but you’d better watch yourself, midget,” the boy stated, adjusting his shoulders.

“Yes, yes,” Flitwick said with a chuckle. He didn’t mind being called a midget. It was one of the milder insults. “Are all your parents… gone?” he asked the children, trying to be delicate.

“They’re dead,” said the nine-year-old girl, making the only five-year-old cry. The rest looked upset as well. They had a week to get used to it, but it still hurt.

 “Are any of you related?” he asked, hoping that at least two of them would be.

“Nay, we all met up in the street,” the thirteen-year-old boy said, looking at the diminutive man like he was asking too many questions.

“Are you hungry?” was the last question.

“Yes,” they all said, looking very much so.

“I will take you to our healer. Once she’s done with you, we will get you something to eat. You may stay here, but you will be attending classes, and helping with the farm,” he said, unknowingly making Andi not a liar. He had no idea what classes they would attend, but he thought History and Runes would be a good start.

“Bugger,” the thirteen-year-old boy said, hoping that he was going to get a free ride. Still, it was a place to sleep, and it had food.

“Everyone is going to have to work, you will have to learn how to fight as well. We are going to find someone who knows muggle fighting to teach you,” Filius stated, rubbing his chin in thought. He didn’t know anyone alive that knew that. Perhaps Kingsley, but he’d have to ask the man.

“Yeah, okay,” the boy said, looking around the ruins not sure why they were still standing there.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Flitwick said, waving his wand and making it so they could see the castle.

“Wow,” the children said in awe as the geas fell from their eyes and the castle stood there in all her glory.

“Come, let us take you to see Poppy,” Filius said, making a portkey to the Hospital Wing.

Hphphp

After Flitwick saw the group to the Hospital Wing, he called Harry to his office. “Mr. Potter, I wanted to let you know that Miss Granger is alive,” he told the boy. He knew he had been worried about her, the boy mentioned her often enough.

“How do you know?” Harry asked, sighing in relief.

“Her name is in the book,” the Headmaster said, pointing to the Book of Students.  “She is alive. I don’t know if she is healthy, but she is alive.” He hoped that was enough to keep the boy here.

“Thank, Merlin,” Harry said, slumping in his chair. “I still have to find her and get her here,” he said, determined to do just that.

“I understand your concern, but you have responsibilities here. I need you to protect the school. Hogwarts would not have picked you if you were not needed. I know that I said your position would be mostly ceremonial, but what I meant by that was, until you are trained. There is much you need to know and do,” the smaller man stated, pulling out a book that Harry needed to read.

“What’s that?” Harry asked with dread. He hated to study, but knew it needed to be done.

“This is the charter and history of the school. Now, much of it is defunct, thanks to it being the end of the world as we know it. However, there is much that is still in play. I need you to read it and come to me with questions and I will answer what we will still be using and what we will be discarding,” Filius said, having already broken part of the charter by letting the muggle children in the wards. He planned on opening the school to many refugees. He just hoped that they were friendly. They should be, with the war wards up, but there were ways around them.  

“Alright,” Harry said, taking the book and opening the cover. He moved to a chair by the window and started reading. It was dead boring, but he knew it needed to be done. If he was going to get Hermione, he needed to get the school safe. Hopefully, she’ll make her way here. Oh, how he wished she’d find a way to communicate with him. That would make it so much easier.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

This is not one of my well-read stories. It is so far from what I usually write. So, I do thank you for reviewing, it means a lot to me.

Hphphp

While Flitwick was dealing with Dumbledore and Sirius, Andi was going into the muggle world and checking on the children she had seen the day before. She took Tonks with her since she wasn’t stupid enough to go alone. She knew there might be unsavory people out there. She had seen them fighting over food yesterday. Her daughter was an ex-Auror she knew how to fight.

“I really want to bring them back to Hogwarts,” she told her daughter as they had one of the house elves take them to the gates. With the war wards up that was the only way off the grounds. “They would be safe there,” she added, just wanting the kids off the street.

“What about Flitwick?” Tonks asked, as she waited for the elf to get ready. “What does he say?”

“I am sure he will be fine with it,” she said, waving it away. The elf popped them to the gate and they Apparated to the muggle world. As soon as they landed in an alley near where Andromeda and Sirius had been yesterday, Andi adjusted her coat, squared her shoulders, and peered cautiously around the corner, scanning for any sign of movement. They had been getting one of the muggleborn to take back to the school and Andi remembered where it was.

“We really should have told someone we were leaving,” Tonks said, once they got to the general area. She was concerned that they had left without letting anyone know. They simply left right after breakfast. Her mother hadn’t even given her time to grab anything other than her wand. Not that she had more than that, but she would have liked to have grabbed another cloak. It was bloody cold out here.

“I told Pomona last night,” Andi said, waving her away again. Sure, it had been a generalization, but she had let the woman know she’d be out here. She knew they were somewhere near here. They wouldn’t have gotten far.

“Mum, did you tell her where we’d be, or just mention that you were going out?” the younger of the two asked, knowing her mother and how she acted. She was impulsive when she wanted to be.

“I said I was going to get the kids by the grocery store,” she said, looking sheepish as she fiddled with the hem of her coat.

“Mum, there are hundreds of grocery stores in the UK,” Tonks said, looking exasperated.

“Oh dear,” Andi said, trying to look contrite, but pulling it off badly. She knew that, she had been in the muggle world for over twenty-five years. She married into it after all.

Tonks sent a Patronus off to Kingsley and told him about where they were and what they were doing. That would let someone know if they weren’t back in a few hours. She kept her wand out and ready, she didn’t trust anyone, not after what had happened with Remus.

They went to the Tesco that Sirius and Andi had gone to yesterday to see if there were any of the children there. There were none; it was empty of anyone or anything really. It had been gutted. The shelves were lying on the floor and some of the boxes were ripped apart with food laying scattered on the ground, useless and ruined. It was a shame that it was lost, but that’s what happened when people fought over resources, they got wasted.

“This is futile,” Tonks said, casting a human revealing spell to see if anyone was around. She didn’t find anyone. There wasn’t even a rat in the area. There were, however, some bugs, those didn’t seem to be affected. They were in the rotting meat and milk that was all over the freezer and refrigerator section of the store. The smell was horrendous. “There’s no one around here for at least thirteen meters,” she informed her mother, trying to breathe through her mouth.

“Bugger,” Andi said, looking around and picking a direction. “Let’s go that way. They’re probably nearby,” she suggested.

They started going to the alleys around the store and would work their way out from there. They walked in circles and went from building to building for a good five block radius until they came upon a group of children. The trip there was dismal, and eerie. There was nothing to give them hope that there would be any surviving the new world. It was as if everyone, and thing, just disappeared.

All those houses and buildings were empty. They had been rifled through and everything that was useful had been removed. Even things that weren’t useful had been taken. It was as if someone had come along with a moving van and taken everything from all the houses there. Even the TVs, which was just stupid, there wasn’t anyone broadcasting. Then again there were still movies on DVDs and tapes.

“Finally,” Andi said, when she spotted the kids. She had just about given up hope.

The children froze and were getting ready to run. They didn’t trust adults, the ones they met in this area would steal their food and tried to kidnap them for slave labor. It was as if none of them ever had kids.

Tonks stepped forward quickly, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, eyes scanning the ragtag group. “Wait! We want to help,” she called out, her voice steady but gentle. In a swift, practiced motion, she flicked her wand, freezing the two runners in their tracks with a silent spell before they could bolt down the alley.

Andi immediately raised her hands to show she meant no harm, glancing around for any other signs of movement.

“We have a safe place to stay with food and shelter,” Tonks continued, moving to block the nearest exit in case any more children tried to escape. She tried to sound reassuring, taking care not to frighten them further, her gaze meeting the wary eyes of each child in turn.

None of the other kids seem to notice that the two runners were frozen. They were near the wall and everyone else was by the barrel fire. They were living in a house that had belonged to one of the children’s family. There was a burn-barrel in the middle of the room providing heat and a place to cook.

“What do we have to do for it?” said the oldest girl, who looked like she had lived on the streets before the illness took over the world. She was dressed as a hooker with furs and a miniskirt. She was not dressed for the weather.

The rest of the children were dressed in whatever they could find, which considering all the houses were open to them, until they were gutted, was a good selection of clothes. However, children being children, it was a rather motley assortment of clothing. None of it matched, and all of it looked eccentric. However, it looked warm and layered. Some of them were wearing up to three hats, and multiple scarves.

“I’m not sure, but I doubt it’ll be much of anything. I think you’ll have to attend classes,” Andi said, thinking that Flitwick would insist on at least that much. “I think there might be some farm work that might need to be done,” she added, not quite sure about that. Pomona had mentioned greenhouse work, and she was sure that they were going to put the kids to work on the farm on the grounds to keep them busy.

“I think they are going to teach the kids to fight too,” Tonks added, knowing that Harry was going to do that. She wasn’t sure about muggle kids, but she knew that she was going to suggest it.

“We’re going to learn to fight?” asked one of the younger children, looking eager to do that. He was hurt in the fight yesterday. His foot was swollen, and it looked like it might have been broken. They had wrapped it and shoved it in the boot he was wearing, but it hurt to walk on it.

“Yeah,” Tonks said, smiling at the boy. He had a few bruises on his face, and he looked like he was in pain. The first thing they were going to do was get these kids to Poppy. She looked at all their faces and noted they were all scraped and bruised.

“I’ll come,” said the boy.

“I want all of you to come,” Andi said, looking at the ten kids. “This is no place for children. If you can behave yourself and obey the rules, you can come to our safe place,” she offered. She was determined to get as many people as possible to Hogwarts.

“I don’t want to go with you,” the oldest girl stated, looking down her nose at the women. She was the first girl that had spoken. She didn’t trust these people and it sounded like there would be too many rules.

“I won’t force you, but I think you’re making a mistake. This is a kill or be killed world now,” Tonks told her. She knew that there would be those that wouldn’t like being in a safe house. They were nomads by nature and would rather wander. Remus had been like that; Sirius was that way to an extent. She had a feeling that Harry was like that too. They were going to have a hard time keeping him at Hogwarts.

“It was that way before the sickness,” the girl rebutted with a shrug.  

“For you maybe, but not the rest of these kids,” the metamorphmagus stated, waving at the younger kids, who were watching the two of them debate.

“I still don’t want to come with you. What you do with the rest of these brats is up to them,” the girl said, sneering at the other nine kids.

“But, Wendy, I thought you liked us?” a girl squeaked, she was in the middle of the age bracket. She had twin braids running down her shoulders and was wearing bib overalls with a dress over them. She was also wearing snow boots and a snow jacket that was bright pink.

“I don’t care one way or the other,” the now named Wendy stated. “I can make it better on my own,” she insisted. She only hooked up with the kids to keep them out of trouble. She didn’t trust the adults in the neighborhood. She wanted to make sure that the kids stayed away from them. She had been teaching them how to hide and steal. Now that they have a place to go, she can go back to the downtown area.

“I’ll go with them,” one of the other boys said, pointing at Tonks and Andi. “I’m tired of being hungry,” he added, getting nods from most of the group.

They were all tired of hiding and running. They missed their parents and didn’t like being alone without adults around. It had been cool at first, but now it was just lonely.

“Do you know of any other survivors?” Andi asked, looking at the kids. She was hoping to find some good adults too. They would be helpful in watching the children. That and they would need help in training them.

“There’s a group of adults around, but their a nasty bunch,” Wendy stated, wrinkling her nose.

“None other than that?” Andi asked, looking around, like there should be more. There had to be more, 22% meant that there were more somewhere.

“Not around here,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “There’s more in downtown London with a larger population and community. I’m going there to see if I can join. I would have taken the kids, but they’re low on food and prefer workers, which I can do.”

“Okay, I’ll take the kids to Hogwarts,” Andi said, smiling at the girl.

“I’m leaving then,” Wendy said, slipping out of the house. She didn’t even say goodbye.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Tonks asked, looking at the door the girl had left from.

“I hope so,” Andi said, gathering the children around her. “I am going to let you in on a secret,” she said with a smile and a wink.

“What?” a small girl asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

“Magic is real,” the older woman said with a mysterious smile.

“Get out,” a boy stated with a disappointed frown. He didn’t think now was the time for fairytales.

“No really, and I’m going to take you to a magical castle,” Andi stated, taking out a piece of rope she had prepared last night. “Grab ahold of the rope and I’ll show you,” she said, making sure that they all grabbed on.

“You’d better put a sticking charm on them,” Tonks stated, not liking the odds of them holding on. Her hair changed color, causing the children to gasp. She had unfrozen the two kids ages ago and they were with the others. They seemed to accept that magic was real enough.

“Did you teach your grandmother to suck eggs?” Andi asked, laughing at her daughter.

“Sorry,” the younger woman said, chuckling a bit.

Andi put a sticking charm on the kids and then said the word to activate the portkey, and they were whisked away, the kids screaming the whole time. It would drop them off in front of Hogwarts.

Hphphp

Sirius decided to take on the warehouse district in his dog form. He went to the area he used to roam when he was antsy at Grimmauld Place. He popped over there by himself, transformed into a dog and started running around sniffing everything.  There were a lot of scents and most of them were foul. Unwashed bodies and rancid food. He didn’t know if the power was still on or not, but he was going with not.

There were burn-barrels everywhere, so there were people around. Not many, but somewhere. He stayed cautious. He edged around the walls, and stuck to the shadows, which was hard for him, he was a large dog. Yet it was easy at the same time because of his coloring. He saw a few men that looked shady, so he stayed away from them.

He made his way to the warehouses and found that most of them had been left alone, because they couldn’t be opened. There were bars on the windows and doors. Not a problem for him, he was magical. It wasn’t that the people hadn’t tried, there were marks on the windows and doors showing that they had attempted to be broken or wedged to open. The glass was broken and shattered on the ground, but the bars were secured.

He made sure that no one was around, transformed back into a wizard and cast the spell to open the door. It took three spells, since there were three locks, and he was in. He made sure to lock the door behind him once he entered the warehouse. He moved to the center of the building, cast a light spell, and saw a myriad of items. This was a distribution center, and it was packed full. Everything was in packages, which was good, it would make it easier to transport. He was going to gut it.  

He called Tibby and Dobby, and they would call all the other house elves. It would take a matter of minutes to clean this joint out. Okay maybe a half an hour to an hour, but that wasn’t much time in the scheme of things.

Hphphp

Andromeda and Nymphadora landed with the nine children outside the gates of Hogwarts. The kids couldn’t see the castle and were upset that they had been duped. They were, to them, standing in the middle of a burned-out ruin. It was cold and there was a forest on one side, and a meadow on the other. No castle.

“You call this a magical castle?” one girl said, trying to drop the rope. It was stuck fast to her hand.

“Aren’t you impressed that you are no longer in the house?” Tonks asked, waving her wand and unsticking their hands.

“I’m impressed,” one kid said, shaking his hand and jumping up and down now that they were in the cold.

“I was promised a magical castle,” the first girl stated, stamping her foot. She was about seven years old. “Where is the castle?” she said, crying out loud.

“There’s a spell on it to protect it,” Andi said, looking in the gate to see if Hagrid was coming, “so the bad men don’t come and hurt the people inside,” she explained. “You will see it when I talk to the man in charge,” she promised.

Hagrid was coming down the walkway, and the children saw him. They still didn’t see the castle, but they saw the giant of a man coming their way. Some got scared and hid behind the women, others were fascinated.

“Cor,” one boy said in wide-eyed wonder, “he’s huge.”

“Is he going to eat us?” a small girl asked, hiding behind Tonks.

“No, he’s a gentle giant,” Tonks said, putting a hand on her head.

“Mrs. Tonks, wha’ do you ‘ave ‘ere,” Hagrid asked, looking at all the scared children with a great deal of confusion. He knew they weren’t students. They were too young and didn’t look like magicals. Not pompous enough. They dressed like them though. He could be wrong.

“I need to speak to the Headmaster,” Andi said, shivering in the cold. “Could you go and get him for me?” she asked politely.

“Why don’t you cast the Patronus, Mum?” Tonks asked, casting a warming charm on everyone.

“Wow/Wicked,” said the kids, looking at their now warm hands in wonder.

“I don’t know that spell,” she said, nodding her head in thanks for the warmth. She was one of the many adults that never learned that spell.

“I’ll do it,” Tonks said, casting the spell asking Flitwick to come to the gate. “You’d better hope he’s not busy. He has a lot to do, you know,” she said, looking around the grounds for something for the children to do. Then she remembered they couldn’t see anything.

“I want to see the castle,” the first girl was whinging.

“You will, my dear. I just have to talk to the man in charge first,” Andi repeated, putting her hand on the girl’s head and patting down her curls.

“Why don’t you kids play with this for now,” Tonks said, making a ball of light that would bounce around. The kids could try to catch it. That would keep them occupied until Filius got there.

It took the man ten minutes to get to the gates, as the kids played in the snow, so he must have been busy with something, or on the other side of the building. “Mrs. Tonks, what can I do for you, and where did you get these children?" he inquired, looking at the children with a look of confusion. He had no idea anyone would be bringing people so soon.

“These children are what I want to talk to you about. I want to bring them into Hogwarts. I can’t do that without your permission,” Andi said, tapping on the war wards. They shimmered under her administration. That caused the kids to look on with awe again.  

“They’re muggles,” he lightly protested. He didn’t really care, but he felt the need to point that out. He knew that was going to cause some riff among the others in the school. Not that it mattered, he was in charge.

“Here now, what the hell did you just call me?” the oldest boy asked, taking a menacing step forward. He was around thirteen years old.

“That means you don’t have magic,” Tonks said, taking his jacket and pulling him back.

“Oh, that’s alright then, but you’d better watch yourself, midget,” the boy stated, adjusting his shoulders.

“Yes, yes,” Flitwick said with a chuckle. He didn’t mind being called a midget. It was one of the milder insults. “Are all your parents… gone?” he asked the children, trying to be delicate.

“They’re dead,” said the nine-year-old girl, making the only five-year-old cry. The rest looked upset as well. They had a week to get used to it, but it still hurt.

 “Are any of you related?” he asked, hoping that at least two of them would be.

“Nay, we all met up in the street,” the thirteen-year-old boy said, looking at the diminutive man like he was asking too many questions.

“Are you hungry?” was the last question.

“Yes,” they all said, looking very much so.

“I will take you to our healer. Once she’s done with you, we will get you something to eat. You may stay here, but you will be attending classes, and helping with the farm,” he said, unknowingly making Andi not a liar. He had no idea what classes they would attend, but he thought History and Runes would be a good start.

“Bugger,” the thirteen-year-old boy said, hoping that he was going to get a free ride. Still, it was a place to sleep, and it had food.

“Everyone is going to have to work, you will have to learn how to fight as well. We are going to find someone who knows muggle fighting to teach you,” Filius stated, rubbing his chin in thought. He didn’t know anyone alive that knew that. Perhaps Kingsley, but he’d have to ask the man.

“Yeah, okay,” the boy said, looking around the ruins not sure why they were still standing there.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Flitwick said, waving his wand and making it so they could see the castle.

“Wow,” the children said in awe as the geas fell from their eyes and the castle stood there in all her glory.

“Come, let us take you to see Poppy,” Filius said, making a portkey to the Hospital Wing.

Hphphp

After Flitwick saw the group to the Hospital Wing, he called Harry to his office. “Mr. Potter, I wanted to let you know that Miss Granger is alive,” he told the boy. He knew he had been worried about her, the boy mentioned her often enough.

“How do you know?” Harry asked, sighing in relief.

“Her name is in the book,” the Headmaster said, pointing to the Book of Students.  “She is alive. I don’t know if she is healthy, but she is alive.” He hoped that was enough to keep the boy here.

“Thank, Merlin,” Harry said, slumping in his chair. “I still have to find her and get her here,” he said, determined to do just that.

“I understand your concern, but you have responsibilities here. I need you to protect the school. Hogwarts would not have picked you if you were not needed. I know that I said your position would be mostly ceremonial, but what I meant by that was, until you are trained. There is much you need to know and do,” the smaller man stated, pulling out a book that Harry needed to read.

“What’s that?” Harry asked with dread. He hated to study, but knew it needed to be done.

“This is the charter and history of the school. Now, much of it is defunct, thanks to it being the end of the world as we know it. However, there is much that is still in play. I need you to read it and come to me with questions and I will answer what we will still be using and what we will be discarding,” Filius said, having already broken part of the charter by letting the muggle children in the wards. He planned on opening the school to many refugees. He just hoped that they were friendly. They should be, with the war wards up, but there were ways around them.  

“Alright,” Harry said, taking the book and opening the cover. He moved to a chair by the window and started reading. It was dead boring, but he knew it needed to be done. If he was going to get Hermione, he needed to get the school safe. Hopefully, she’ll make her way here. Oh, how he wished she’d find a way to communicate with him. That would make it so much easier.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

“I forgot one vital thing,” Flitwick stated, looking at Harry, breaking his concentration.

“Oh,” Harry said, looking up from the book.

“There is no one to run the farms in Hogsmeade,” he stated sadly. He had been thinking about it while sitting here planning on the situation. Then he remembered that Madame Rosmerta was dead, as was most of the town. The farms were sitting there unattended. Well, perhaps one or two were inhabited, he would have to check. “The Hogwarts elves don’t know how,” he added before Harry could ask. “They are house elves, not farm elves,” he finished. “They have tended the castle for hundreds of years, only the groundskeeper has tended the farm. Hagrid does our farm work.”

“My elves could do it,” Harry said. “Dobby says they can run farms,” he stated, more than willing to volunteer their time. “I have ten farms, I think. I’ll have to check with Dobby. All I know is that I have more than one. I don’t even know if they have animals,” he confessed. He really needed to get with his elf to understand his holdings. Right now, he was the richest boy in his year. Or so he thought. He had property and resources, which is more than most could say. 

“That's a wonderful suggestion,” said Flitwick, clapping his hands. That would help the situation greatly. He would have to see how to compensate the boy. He couldn’t see just taking help from him for free. “I hope we’re not putting you out, but with the population so decimated it would be all hands on deck, so to speak.”

“Well, we're going to need those farms. Is Hogsmeade under the war wards?” the Boy-Who-Lived asked, hoping they were. They would need to protect their investments.

“No, it's not,” Filius said with dawning horror. The Death Eaters would know that too. Or if they didn’t, they would quickly figure it out.

“Blast. We're going to have to find a way to protect it,” Harry said, putting his thoughts to words. He got up and started pacing. He didn’t know any protection spells. He was only a fifth-year student, and it was only halfway through the year at that.

“We're going to have to find a way to protect your farms as well,” the Headmaster said, thinking that was just as high a priority. He got up and went to the bookshelf and grabbed a few books. There were plenty of spells that would shield the lands.

“Can we put them under the Fidelius Charm?” Harry asked, thinking of the only spell he knew. It worked wonders for Sirius.

“The Fidelius charm is more of a charmed put a house under protection, not farms. I'm sure there's a way to tweak it to do that, but we’d have workers to go there every single day, it's not really a charm to use for that. But I'm sure we can work it that way,” the diminutive professor said, though he still was flipping through the books he had brought to the desk. He would do some studying before he settled on the Fidelius.

“That doesn't make sense. Professor Dumbledore had Grimmauld Place under that charm and people were in and out of it every day,” Harry said, not understanding the innerworkings of the spell.

Filius flipped through the pages a few more times, read a few paragraphs, and made some notes. He then remarked, “Professor Dumbledore was a very knowledgeable and experienced wizard. He had a deeper understanding of magic and its details than I do, primarily due to his greater age.” He looked up and acknowledged his own competence with a smile.

Harry smiled back and nodded. “Of that I have no doubt,” he said, knowing that the man was head of Ravenclaw for a reason.  “I still have many misgivings of Professor Dumbledore's way of thinking, mind you. He did me wrong.” He frowned at that. Did the man have a reason for everything he did?

“Would you care to talk about it?” Filius asked, putting a finger on the page where he was reading. He could pause in his study for a moment.

“He put me with abusive relatives to keep me humble,” Harry said with a great deal of bitterness. He felt he needed a new perspective.

“Oh dear, that is very disturbing,” the smaller man said, placing a marker on the page. He was going to need his full attention here. The boy might need to vent.

“Did you hear of him doing things like this to anybody else, Professor Flitwick?” Harry asked, desperate not to be the only one to have had this done to him.

“There were talks of Professor Dumbledore doing things like this to other people, yes, but they were always dismissed as just that, gossip,” was the answer.

“So, I'm not alone in my misgivings.”

“No. Even your father was known to be manipulated in such ways. Although he was on the other end of the spectrum,” the Headmaster stated, folding his hands on his belly and leaning back in his chair as if weighing his words.  “He was given a lot of leeway in his dealings with Professor Dumbledore. He ruled the school as a tormenter and was never chastised in any way.”

“I did not know that about my father. He was a bully?” Harry asked with some trepidation. He really didn’t want it to be true.

“Yes,” Filius stated, blandly.  “You'll have to ask Mr. Black more about that. He was very good friends with your father, and he too ruled the school as a browbeat and their favorite subject was Professor Snape.” There was heaviness in those words.

“They picked on Snape? No wonder the man hated me,” Harry said gravely. It all clicked with him now. Not that he forgave the man his actions, the man was a bully too, but it explained it.

“I’d say ‘hated’ is a harsh word,” Flitwick said, chuckling a bit. He knew Severus was a bitter man, but to hate a child, he didn’t think the man was that low.

“No, that man loathed the very ground I walked on. He hated me,” the teenager said with force. “And now I see why,” he added with an undertone.

“Be that as it may, yes, they picked on Severus very badly when he was at school. To the point where he was almost eaten by Mr. Lupin,” Flitwick stated, his eyes going harsh.  “You'll have to ask Mr. Black about the details, but it was a very bad time for all of them. And nobody was punished for it, which is what I'm talking about, your father and Mr. Black getting away with things where they should not have.”

“How do you know about it then?”

“Professor McGonagall told me about it. She was lamenting about how your father and friends skated through that,” he said with sadness in his tone over a friend lost.

“She's swore you to secrecy then?”

“Yes, but she is now dead and so is everybody involved, so there is no harm done. Well, not Mr. Black, nor Mr. Lupin, but Dumbledore, Severus and your father are deceased, so they cannot be harmed by me telling you,” Filius said, his tone and smile sad.

“I'm not sure how I feel about it,” Harry said, thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to confront Sirius now.

“You're old enough now to understand that sometimes things happen for all the wrong reasons,” Flitwick said, putting a hand on the desk as if to reach for the pacing boy, “and the only reason I'm telling you this is to see how far the manipulations go on each side of the coin. Professor Dumbledore was not always right.”

“I'm seeing that very well now, thank you very much,” Harry said with even more bitterness. “I have another question for you, Professor Flitwick. Whatever happened to Fawkes?” He was going to get away from the subject for now. He’d take it up with Sirius when he returned.

“Fawkes disappeared right after Professor Dumbledore died. I don't know where he went, he just simply vanished.” The phoenix disappeared the second the old Headmaster took his last breath.

“That's too bad, because if he was here, he might want to get Hermione for me.” He had been hoping on that. It would save a lot of trouble.

“I wouldn't be too sure about that,” Flitwick said, shaking his head. He reached for the discarded books, to pick up where he had left off.  “He usually only wanted to do what the Headmaster wanted.”

“But he seemed like such a nice bird,” Harry said, confused. He thought that Fawkes would do what was right just because it was right.

“Oh, of no doubt Fawkes was a very nice bird. He's just not inclined to do what everybody wants him to do,” Filius stated, not wanting Harry to think bad of the bird. He just didn’t want him to get an overly positive image either.

“Oh,” was all Harry could say.

“Well, let's get back to studying and hope that your godfather comes back soon. He's been gone an awful long time,” Flitwick stated, looking at the clock on the wall. It was going on three in the afternoon, it would be tea soon.

“Yes, I'm almost done. This is a very boring book, by the way,” Harry said, going back to his seat and picking up the book. He’d leave the spells to protect the farms to the adults. They were more versed in magic than him.

“Yes, yes, it is. But it's very easy to read.”

Hphphp

“What do you say, Dobby? Shall we hit one more warehouse?” Sirius asked once they cleared out the last warehouse they were in. It had been a big one that had a lot of camping gear in it. Not that he thought they needed camping gear, but he was grabbing everything.

“Dobby is thinking that is being a very good idea, Harry Potter’s Dogfather, sir,” the little elf said, bouncing up and down as he glided some pots and pans into the bags they had magicked up. There were five other elves there that would carry these bags back to Hogwarts.

“Alright, we've hit six already. I think one more should be okay,” the only human said as he checked his watch. It was going on four, past teatime. He was going to miss Hogwarts tea, but if they hurried, he might get the elves to save him some. At least they’d make it back for dinner.

“There is being one right next door,” Dobby said, excitedly. He had been scouting while they were clearing this one out. 

“What kind of warehouse is it, Dobby?” Sirius asked, tilting his head to the side. He was the one to ask Dobby to check. It was easier for the elves to pop around than it was him. They didn’t really need a line of sight. They could pop around with feelings and hunches.  

“Dobby is not being sure, it was very dark, but it is being very, very cold. I is thinking there is being frozen foods there,” Dobby said, bouncing more. He had only popped in for a moment. There were loads of boxes with writing on them, but Dobby couldn’t read. There were pictures on the boxes, which is why Dobby figured it was food.

“I’m not sure how it’s still cold, but it’ll not last, I’d better hit it now. All right, Dobby. Better get some warm clothes on and we'll hit it and see if there's meat in there. Or better yet, ice cream,” Sirius said, getting as excited as the elf.

“Yes, sir, Harry Potter's Dogfather, sir,” Dobby said, putting the last of the camping gear in the bags. He handed it off to the Hogwarts’ elf and went to stand by Sirius’s side.

So, Sirius and Dobby went over to the warehouse next door. They decided to walk over since it was right next door. They weren't worried about the Statute of Secrecy, since it was the end of the world and there was nobody around, or so they thought. Even if someone did see them, Sirius could take care of them, and Dobby could pop away.

Which is exactly what happened. “What the hell is that?” asked a man, as he spotted Dobby walking from one warehouse to the other. He was a rake of a man who looked like he had not bathed in ages. He looked like he had been homeless long before the world ended.

Dobby shrieked and popped away.

“What is what?” asked Sirius with an air of innocence. He didn’t care what the man had seen as long as he didn’t make too much of a fuss.

“The fuck was that thing that was just next to you?” the man asked again. He looked everywhere to find Dobby but didn’t see him. He rubbed his eyes to make sure they were functioning and saw that they were. He knew what he had seen and wanted confirmation.

“You're delusional, man. There was nothing next to me,” Sirius said, making an exaggerated motion of looking around to show there was no one there but the two of them.

That seemed to piss the man off and he came closer to Sirius. “Who the hell are you and why do you look so clean?” asked the man, poking a finger into Sirius’s chest. “And I know what I saw, don’t try to bullshit me,” he added.

“I'm just some ordinary bloke out for a stroll,” Sirius said, backing away from the stinky man, holding his nose on the way. He wasn’t scared of the man, but boy did he reek. He had to have been homeless for quite some time. “You didn’t see anything. I am here by myself.”

The man followed him, even more offended at Sirius’s motions. “That doesn't answer my question. Why do you look so clean? The power has been off for a week now.” He put his fettered breath near Sirius’s nose causing the dogman to choke. He decided to drop the other subject for now. Perhaps he had been seeing things. However, this man was up to something.

“I took a bath in the Thames.” Sirius cast a breath freshening charm on the man without him knowing. It now smells wintery fresh.

“At this time of year? Are you bloody crazy?” the man asked, jumping back and looking at him like he was barmy. It was almost frozen solid.

“It got me cleaned, didn't it?” Sirius said, with a wicked smile.

“You're bonkers.”

“Well, I've got things I've got to do,” Sirius said, waving and turning to walk away.  “You have a nice day.”

“What do you think you're doing sneaking around the warehouse district?” the man asked, grabbing Sirius’s shoulder and twirling him around. He lived here among the buildings, and he didn’t like people sneaking around.

Sirius knocked his arm away and pushed him back, but he smiled to keep it as non-violent as possible. “Who are you, the bloody cops? I told you; I’m out for a walk.”

“I don't like you,” the man said, staying away, but lowering his body into a fighting stance.  “I think you're up to something.”

“Of course I'm up to something. I'm surviving,” Sirius proclaimed, like the man was an idiot.

“What have you got on you?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow, like he had just scored something to help him. Perhaps the man had food on him.

“I don't have anything on me, mate,” Sirius said, smiling all the brighter.  “All I've got on me is a stick.”

That caused the man to look at him like he was crazier than before. “A stick? What are you going to do with the stick?” he asked, looking at the wand that Sirius was pulling from his shirt.

“This.” And with that, Sirius proceeded to knock the man out with a stunning spell and went into the warehouse. “That was bloody close. Dobby, are you okay?” he asked the elf.

“I is being fine, Harry Potter’s Dogfather, sir,” Dobby said, smiling and bouncing like he always did.

“Good, good. Let's get this warehouse raided and get the hell out of here,” Sirius said, jumping up and down to keep warm, until he cast a warming spell and then when it took effect he stopped and looked around. It was a freezer unit alright, and it was stuffed to the gills with food. There was meat, ice cream and vegetables and tons of frozen dinners. They could feed the whole of the rest of the wizarding world for months on what was here.

“You is being very careless there, Mr. Sirius, Sir,” said Tibby, the Head Hogwarts elf. He had been waiting for them to pop in so they could clear out the warehouse. He and the other elves had cast their warming charms ages ago.

“I know, I know, but I just wanted to get some fresh air. We've been cooped up in these warehouses all day,” the dogman whinged, he was bored. He had promised that he would act more mature, but it was hard to do it all in one day. He wasn’t used to being all adult like.

“I is being knowing, sir, but yous is needing to be more mature,” the elf said, wagging his finger at him.

“Well, let's get this done. We don't have all day. Look at all this meat. Do we have anywhere to store it?” Sirius said, not about to be chastised by a house elf. He was far too pureblood for that.

“I was thinking we should be popping it straight to the kitchens at Hogwarts. We have a deep cold place there. It is being a nice place for meats,” Tibby said, thinking of the cave like space they had there. It was massive enough to hold a herd of dead cows. It could easily hold this lot.

“Alright, Tibby, you take it to where it needs to be. Are you sure there's going to be enough space there?”

“Mr. Sirius, we is being magic. We can make enough space,” the elf said, giggling.

“Silly me,” Sirius said, chuckling along with them.

And with that, the three of them, along with the other five elves, proceeded to clear out the warehouse. They would leave when they were done, and hopefully the elves would let Sirius have some tea.

Hphphp

It was later that night when Amelia, Filius, Pomona, Sirius, Harry, Tonks and Andromeda got together and had a serious talk. Harry and Sirius decided to hold off on their confrontation for another day. They wanted to make sure they gave it their complete attention.

“Okay, I called you all together because we are going about willy-nilly doing different things without consulting each other,” said Flitwick, sitting on his chair and using some books so that he was at the same height as everyone else, bar Harry, who was still a head shorter.

“Yes, we can't be doing that. We've got to get together and do things with a plan,” said Amelia. She had been the most left out of everyone. She had been left to deal with the blowhards that were the Wizengamot members.

“I just wanted to make sure the children were safe,” said Andi, huffing and folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t think she had done anything wrong. She thought she had the right of it. She was an adult and didn’t feel the need to check in with anyone.

“And there is nothing wrong with that,” said Amelia, making placating gestures. “But we have to know where each other are.” She was very firm on this. They were some of the only people left in Great Britian.

“I agree,” said Pomona, fretting her hands. She had been worried beyond reason this morning. Everyone had left her with the children and the parents. “I was very worried about you when you left, and I did not know where you were.” She knew she had gone after the children, but the muggle world was a huge and scary place. After what Andi had told her the night before, it sounded scarier than before.

“I informed Kingsley as soon as I found out she didn't let anybody know where we were,” said Tonks, trying to make them all feel better.

“And I very much appreciate that,” said Amelia, nodding her head towards the girl. “But it's doesn’t negate the fact that we didn't know where you were for a good half hour. That is enough time for you two to have gotten in trouble.” She knew better than anyone how easily someone could die in a matter of minutes.

“Okay, I can understand why everybody's upset,” said Andi, seeing reason finally. “But we did get the kids taken care of and now they're safe. That was the final goal.” That was all that was important to her.

“Yes, that was the goal. So, from now on, let's coordinate what we're doing,” said Filius, turning to Harry.

“I still think we should go out and find more survivors,” said Harry, looking at all the adults. It was weird for him to be here. He was the only teenager. They were not going to listen to him, he was sure.  “That's something I've wanted to do since the beginning, and now that we have a safe place for them, I think we should bring them in and like Sirius said, pump them full of Veritaserum.” He was sure this was the correct thing to do.

“I think that's an excellent idea,” said Andi, clapping her hands in agreement. She was sure there would be more children among them.

“Me too,” said Sirius. He would agree with anything Harry said.

“I have enough Veritaserum that we can pull it off,” said Amelia, agreeing with him. While they had been running around the muggle world, she had gone to the ministry and raided the Department of Mysteries. Sirius was just going to have to suck it up, he should have gone there first. She felt that even if they were muggles, they needed to have as many humans as possible around. “I am sure there is a brewer among the survivors here in the castle. That and we only need to ask them enough to make sure they are safe to be around.”

“What do your government officials say about you using it?”  asked Tonks with a sneer on her lips. She didn’t think much of those officials before the end of the world. She thought less of them now.

“Bugger them. They've been nothing but a pain in my arse since I got here and they're useless. They don't want to pass any new laws even though the population is down to almost nothing,” the ex-DMLE chief said, tapping a quill on a parchment in an angry rhythm. There was an ink splotch growing wider and wider the more she tapped, but no one stopped her. They let her have her anger.

"Let's leave them in the Great Hall with the children so they can deal with the surviving parents themselves," suggested Flitwick, fed up with the parents' complaints about their missing house elves and other grievances. They had only been there a day.

“I agree,” said Pomona, they were trying her patience as well.

“So, we're all agreed from now on when we make a plan, we're going to do it together,” Flitwick asked again. He wanted to make sure they were all on the same page. “No more sneaking out of the castle and doing things without everyone in the know.”

“Yes, but how are we going to go about finding survivors? Are we going to use a human revealing spell on every building in England?” asked Harry, who was imagining them doing just that.

That caused quite a chuckle around the table. They were all envisioning this scene, and then there were some that were pondering the question.

“There is a survivor’s camp in London,” said Andi, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “but I don't know how we're going to get them to come here.”  She had a few thoughts about it, food, water, shelter, to name a few. How many would react like Wendy though?

“How do you know there's a survivor’s camp in London?” asked Sirius, tilting his head.

“That girl, Wendy, who didn't come with us, told us about it,” said Tonks, then she explained their day to those who didn’t know the story.

“Oh, so she told you about a survivor’s camp? That's Interesting. Did she tell you where it was?” Harry asked, thinking that would make it much easier. Not that he knew London any better than any at the table did. Well, perhaps Andi and Tonks knew it some.

“No, she did not. She just said that it was in London and that they were running low on food, so that could be one way we can get them to come here. Are we good on food?” asked the metamorphmagus. She turned her head to Flitwick who was in charge of the school.  He’d know best.

“Oh yeah, we're good on food and even when we run out of what we've scavenged, we can always grow what we need,” Harry answered instead, remembering what they had taken from the houses, plus what Sirius told him he had taken from the warehouses today.

Tonks leaned forward, drumming her fingers thoughtfully on the table. “Do you think every major city in the muggle world will have a survivors’ camp?” she asked, her gaze sweeping the faces around her.

“Probably,” Harry answered, thinking it was very likely.

“We should check,” Andi said, itching to bring in all the children.

“So, we'll go out and talk to this London group tomorrow then?” asked Sirius. He yawned and stretched; he was dog tired. He had been using magic all day long and it had worn him out.

“That sounds like a good plan. While you do that, I’ll be checking on the farms,” said Flitwick, standing and jumping off his chair. He jumped on to the seat then on to the floor. He had a few protection spells he wanted to add to Hogsmeade and Harry’s farms. He’d take Harry with him. He was making his way to the door when Harry asked a question.

“By the way, has anybody talked to the centaurs?” asked the teenager, making everyone stop short.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

“Yes, indeed, we do know of the centaurs,” Flitwick said, sadly, looking at Pomona. They settled down at the table again. “They have turned, well, feral is not the word, but more towards their animal form. They are more horse-like then they are human,” he said, looking around the table to see how the news was taken. “Hagrid brought us the news shortly after the virus spread.”

“They want nothing to do with us more so than before,” Sprout stated, settling in her chair. She was more upset with it than Flitwick was. He could really care less what the centaurs did as long as it didn’t affect the school.  

“Are they still the caretakers of the forest?” Andi asked, wondering if they would still guard the Forbidden Forest. That might help if the school was attacked.

“More so than before. In that they have embraced their human side,” Filius stated, thinking that horses were not territorial. However, humans can be. They would prevent anyone coming from that side of the castle. The school was safe in that respect. “They have eradicated the Acromantula colony. Hagrid is not happy with them,” he added, knowing that there might be repercussions to come from it.

The gentle giant was beside himself with grief over the loss of his friends, but he understood that the Acromantula did need to go. They had become more and more restless over the days since the virus. The disease had destroyed most of the nest, and they had become hungrier. Aragog had died and the nest had turned its sights to the castle and the herd. The centaurs had hunted them down to the last one and killed them all. There was not a spider left in the forest.

“It might be for the best,” Tonks said, never having liked the giant spiders being in the forest. She had learned about them when she became an Auror. She had been shocked and upset that the old Headmaster had allowed them to reside there. It was one of the many things she held against the old man.

“At least that’s one less thing we have to worry about,” Amelia stated, making a note of it. “However, now we need to worry about the centaurs.” She didn’t like that they were now aggressive. If they were territorial, that might pose a problem later.

“I don’t think we need to worry about them,” Filius said, disagreeing with her. “They have become more passive in their dealings with us, as long as they have their territory,” he stated, having talked it over with Hagrid. The half-giant had informed him that they were very understanding in that they just wanted to live in peace in the forest.

“What do they consider their territory?” Harry asked, not overly concerned about it. They really didn’t need the forest. They had the farms for meat, they didn’t need venison.

“The Forbidden Forest, of course,” the Headmaster stated. It was well known that the horse people always thought the forest was theirs. They ruled the woods as if it had always been theirs, and the old Headmasters had allowed it. Flitwick didn’t see any need to revoke that.

“Let them have it,” the Boy-Who-Lived said, waving it away. “We don’t need it. Just ask for hunting rights and the Thestrals feeding grounds,” he said, thinking that the first few acres wouldn’t be too much to ask. Hagrid had always been allowed to hunt there before; he didn’t think they’d forbid it now. Even if they couldn’t negotiate those rights, they could feed the Thestrals cow meat.

“I think we can bargain that,” Filius said, agreeing with him.

“You would just give in to them?” Andi said, not sure if that was a good thing. They might need that land later.

“We have much more to worry about than the forest,” Filius said, thinking just the opposite. He was more than willing to work with the centaurs. They would be great allies later.

“I agree,” Amelia said, with Pomona and Sirius agreeing with her. They needed to fortify the castle and the town and not worry about the forest. Besides the good will of the centaurs might be needed later.

“It’s settled then. I think that’s all we need to talk about for now,” Filius said brightly, once more hopping down from his chair. The rest of the adults got up to leave as well.

“Sirius, can we talk?” Harry asked, turning to his godfather. He wanted to get this done now. It would just fester if they let it linger.

“Sure, pup,” Sirius said, knowing that it was going to be a bad one. They had touched on the subject before this meeting, but they had decided to wait until they had more time.

“Do you two need a referee?” Tonks asked, looking between the two of them. She didn’t want it to get out of control. They might say things they didn’t mean or do things they might regret later. She knew that things had been said between her and Remus that she regretted now.

“No, I think we’ve got it,” Harry said, knowing that he could hold his temper enough not to harm the man. Not that he thought he could. Sirius was a much more experienced wizard than he was.

“Yeah, thanks, Tonks, we’re good,” Sirius said, heading towards the door. He would never hurt Harry. The boy was his life now. He was the only thing that was important in his life.

“Just keep your temper,” she precautioned them.

Hphphp

Sirius and Harry went to the Room of Requirements to have their talk. They wanted to have privacy. They knew they were going to get loud and say things they didn’t want anyone else to hear. Harry called up the room and it came as a smaller version of the Gryffindor common room. It had a fireplace and two red and gold chairs. There were some portraits of the seaside hanging on the wall, probably for calming measures, but Harry wasn’t looking at them.

“So, you were a bully,” Harry said, deadpanning the statement. He just bluntly pointed it out to him, wanting to get it out there from the start. He settled into one of the chairs. He didn’t want to pace for this. Not yet. “And your target was Snape?”

“Now, Harry, you weren’t there,” Sirius said, trying to justify his actions. He leaned against the wall near the fireplace. He would remain standing for now. “I knew Snape was a bad person from the get go,” he stated, looking at his godson willing him to understand. “You didn’t see him as a kid. He was slimy and greasy, and his clothes were dark and just, you didn’t see him. He looked dark,” he stated.

“There is no good reason for being a bully,” Harry stated, not understanding at all. He fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. He had seen the worst in people in his primary school years, mostly directed at him. He had never done anything to deserve it.  Dudley had been the worst, egged on by his parents.

“Severus was a greasy git, we were just putting him in his place,” the dogman said, folding his arms over his chest defiantly. “He gave back as good as he got,” he said, just as defensively.

“I don’t care if he was straight up evil, you shouldn’t have bullied him. Because of you and my dad, my life here was a living hell,” the teenager all but yelled, getting up roughly and started pacing. So much for keeping his temper.

“I don’t understand, how could our actions have affected your life?” Sirius asked, though he had an inkling. Snape was an arsehole. He could see him taking it out on Harry, if only verbally.

Harry threw his hands in the air and continued pacing. “Snape hated me. He took one look at me and took his hatred for you and my father out on me. He graded me abysmally and cut me down every chance he got. He took points off me for breathing too hard, for fucks sake. He embarrassed me at any given opportunity. He made my life hell in class and out. I think if he thought he could have gotten away with it, he would have abused me physically,” he ranted, though he wasn’t sure of that, it truly felt that way sometimes.

“I doubt that,” Sirius said, though he did think Snape would have cursed the boy. Snape knew a great deal of curses that would have made Harry’s life uncomfortable. However, he didn’t think he’d really hurt the boy. Besides, Dumbledore told him that Snape took an oath to protect Harry.

Harry once more threw his hands in the air. “That’s not the point,” he exclaimed, twirling on him.  “You were a bully. I was bullied as a child. I hate bullies. I don’t condone it, and I don’t think you can justify it to me.”  He put his hands on his hips in a judgmental way. He felt really strongly about this.

Sirius was still leaning against the wall. He didn’t feel the need to move. It was comfortable and he didn’t want to seem confrontational. “I’m not sure what to say to you,” he confessed, shrugging his shoulder. “I was young, stupid and going with the crowd. I grew up in an abusive household and it turned me into a bitter person who lashes out. I don’t know any other way. I didn’t grow out of it until I went to prison. Even now I tend to ridicule people,” he finished, looking at his godson imploringly. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to hate him.

“I’m not sure how to react to this,” Harry said, he really didn’t want to dislike his godfather. But he didn’t like bullies. “I too grew up in an abusive household, but I turned out the exact opposite of you,” he said in a whisper.

“I am trying to be a better person,” Sirius said, smiling a small smile. He was too. He was making every effort to be a good person. He was using Harry as an example and following the boy’s lead.

“I know,” Harry said, giving him a similar smile.

They stared at each other for a long time, both just thinking about where to go from there.

“I am happy to hear that Hermione is alive,” Sirius said, changing the subject after the silence had stretched too long.

“Yeah, now if I can only get her here,” Harry said, slumping a bit. He let the subject go for now. He thought he could forgive his godfather, but it would take time. Everyone involved was dead, bar Remus and he wasn’t in his right mind.

“Why don’t I go and get her?” the other man said. He thought it was the least he could do. He had nothing else planned. Sure, he could go and find survivors, but there were loads of people here that could do that. He had no real responsibility here; he was a free agent.

“What? No, we need you here,” Harry protested, though he really wanted to say yes.

“Not really,” Sirius said, shrugging his shoulder. “The house elves can do what I do. I can pop over there and be back in a matter of hours, days at the most. It shouldn’t take that long to find her. France isn’t that big. Magical France is even smaller.” He’d been there a time or two, so he should know.

“She went to Calais,” Harry said helpfully. He remembered her saying that’s where she was going in her last letter to him. “There’s a magical village there,” he added. He hoped she had stayed there when the world ended. If not, then it was going to be harder to find her.

“Even better,” Sirius said, thinking that was closer than Paris. It was a moderate coastal city near England. It should be smaller now that the world has ended. If Hermione were smart, she should be holed up near the water hoping for help soon. Hopefully with more survivors.

“You’ll go and get her, really?” Harry asked hopefully. He didn’t think anyone would go. He had given up hope of getting Hermione here.

Sirius stood from his leaning and went to his godson. He put his hands on the teen’s shoulders and squeezed. He hooked a finger under the boy’s chin and made their eyes meet. “I’ll leave now. I’ll just let the rest know I’m going. I’ll be back by morning, or midafternoon,” he said, thinking he’d just pop on over and grab the girl and pop right back.

“Okay, that’d be great,” Harry said, thinking this would go a long way in making Sirius seem more redeemable in his eyes. Not that he was irredeemable, but the bullying thing had lessened him some. He still loved Sirius, but he was just…. less somehow. Like he wasn’t the beacon of hope that he used to be.

“Not a problem, pup, let me go and let them know, and I’ll be off,” Sirius said, he gave the boy a hug. He was more shocked that Harry wasn’t begging to come along. Just two weeks ago, the boy would have done just that. It seemed that Harry was more mature now. Funny what the end of the world would do to someone.

Harry was itching to come along, but he had responsibilities here. There were rules to go over and revamp. He needed to get class schedules in order, curriculums formed, and teachers hired among the parents that were left over. That was going to be a chore. They weren’t the most educated. They could get the ghost to teach, but that wasn’t the best course of action either as Binns had taught them.

The two separated and Sirius left to go and do what he needed to do.

Harry went to his office. He had an office and that just blew his mind. It was a basic office, circular in shape with a desk, a chair and some filing cabinets. He was to dress it up to his liking as time went on. He put his broom near the window, a picture of him, Hermione, and Ron on the desk and a flowerpot with an Asphodel in it on the filing cabinet. Pomona had given it to him. That was as far as he had gotten in his decorations.

He was going over the parchmentwork that Filius had given him when Fred knocked on the door. “What’s up, Fred?” he asked, looking at the now single twin. He could see that Fred was still grieving the loss of his brother and family. There were stress lines around his eyes and mouth. They were taking over the laugh lines that used to be there.

“We need to talk about a schedule for defense,” the lone twin said, settling into a chair he conjured up.

“Okay, but why aren’t you talking to Filius?” he asked, looking at him with a confused expression.

“He told me to come to you,” Fred said, laughing at him. It was a forced laugh, but Harry was happy to hear him trying.

“Right,” Harry said, pulling out a class schedule. It was something that Flitwick had briefed him on. It wasn’t hard to do, or so he thought.

“No, I’m not talking about the class. I’m talking about practical,” Fred said, leaning forward. “I mean the muggles too. Physical stuff, you know, punching, kicking, and things like that. Oh and hiding and such. We need to be prepared in case the castle gets breeched,” he added. “I was talking with Neville and Luna, and they are just as concerned as I am.”

“Do you think that’s possible?” Harry asked, knowing that it was indeed possible, but highly improbable. The war wards were near on impenetrable. That’s why they were called war wards.

“You know it is,” the other man said, giving him a knowing look. He had looked into it, and while they were good, they weren’t 100%.

“Okay, we need to get some classes set up for the muggle kids anyway. Let’s set up a nightly class for self-defense. We’ll make it mandatory,” Harry said, writing that down. He made it a proposal that had to be signed by all the adults in charge. He couldn’t unilaterally make the decision. “We’ll run it past the other faculty members and see what they say, but I don’t see them passing on it.”

“I think we might get some push back from Sprout, but she can be talked around,” Weasley stated, thoughtfully. She didn’t like the kids fighting when it was first brought up.

“You may be correct,” Harry said, jotting down a quick note to talk it over that evening with the rest of the staff.

“We need to talk about Hagrid. He was a staff member before the world ended, now he’s been reduced to groundskeeper again. He might feel that he’s being shafted. Someone needs to talk to him,” Fred said, looking pointedly at Harry like he was the only man for the job. If McGonagall was alive, it would have been up to her.

“What am I supposed to say to him? I wasn’t the one to reduce his status,” Harry said, getting indignant.

“Explain to him that he is more needed on the grounds than in the castle. That he is more experienced there than here,” Fred said in a gentle manner.

“I’ll do my best,” Harry said with a sigh.

“That’s all we can ask,” Fred said, getting up and leaving the room.

Harry sighed again and went to go and do what he didn’t want to do. He went to talk to Hagrid. He went down to the hut and knocked on the door. “Hagrid, can I come in?” he asked when the gentle giant opened the door.

“Sure, ‘arry,” Hagrid said, hefting the door open even further. “What ken I be doing fer ya?”

“I wanted to talk to you about why you are not a teacher anymore,” Harry said, being blunt once more. He knew that his friend would appreciate him being straight forward.

“Ah, I know why,” the tall man said, looking sheepish.

“Oh, why do you think so?” Harry prodded, wondering what the man’s thoughts were.

“Because I was rubbish at it,” Hagrid said, his face was bright red under his bushy beard. He knew that he had made a lot of mistakes as a teacher. He knew that it was only because Dumbledore liked him that he had kept his job. Now that Albus was gone…

“No, that wasn’t it. Well, not completely,” Harry admitted. “It’s because there isn’t a class to teach, and we need you more in the farm than in the classroom,” he stated, putting his smaller hand on the older man’s larger arm. “We need food more than we need them to learn the difference between a hippogriff and unicorn,” he said, giving him a smile. “You’re a good man, Hagrid. If the class does come back, I’ll put in a good word for you, but I think you are better suited to keeping the grounds.” He kept his smile on his face to show he was being as honest as he could be. He wanted to be mature and supportive.

“Too right,” Hagrid said, smiling right back. He knew that Harry wouldn’t steer him wrong. The teen had always told him like it was and gotten him out of trouble a time or two.

“Can you forgive us for this slight?”

“I don’t rightly see it as one,” Hagrid said, being the simple man that he was. “I prefer to work the gardens,” he said, honestly. “I’ll tell you a secret, them kids are mean ones,” he confessed.

“Don’t I know it,” Harry said, nodding solemnly.

“Right,” Hagrid said, blushing at remembering all the rumors Harry had suffered under. He tried to stop them, but no one listened to the half-giant.

“Anyway, I think you’ll do a bang-up job like you always do,” Harry said, getting up to go back to his office. “I’ve got loads of parchmentwork to do,” he said, patting the man’s arm once more.

“Thanks, fer coming and talking ter me, ‘arry,” Hagrid said, seeing him to the door.

“Not a problem, Hagrid. If you need anything, just let me or Filius know,” the boy wonder said, going out the door. He really needed to get his work done. Schedules to do and such. He was walking to the castle when the ghost of Dumbledore caught up with him.

“Harry, my boy, I see you are lollygagging like I thought you would. I knew you would not be responsible enough to take on the Deputy Headmaster’s position,” the old man’s ghost said, running his hands down his beard in a knowing fashion.

“Bugger off, old man,” Harry said, not pausing in his step. He didn’t even look at the spirit.

“Come now, Harry, there is no need to be vulgar,” Dumbledore said as he floated along.

“Fuck off,” Harry said, once again not pausing to look at him.

“Do you not have anything nice to say to me?”

“No.”

“Harry,” Sirius said as he came around the corner, “I’ve come to tell you that I’m off. I told Flitwick and the others, and they are agreed.” He saw Dumbledore there and whipped out his wand and said, “Bugger off, old man.”

“What have they agreed to?” Dumbledore asked, looking at him with apprehension.

“Be gone, or I’ll banish you,” was all the answer he got.

“Why not banish him now?” Harry asked snidely.

“I want to torment him later,” Sirius said, sneering at the ghost.

“That is rather close to bullying,” Harry warned. He didn’t want his godfather to bully the ghost any more than he wanted him to bully Snape.

“Is it really?” Sirius asked, considering. He thought about it for a moment then swished his wand and banished the ghost. Dumbledore would no longer haunt the halls of Hogwarts. “You’re right,” he said, stowing his wand back in his robes.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Harry said, smiling at his godfather. “Are you off to get Hermione?”

“Yup. I have a portkey that will bring us back here the second I find her,” he stated, patting his pocket. To him it would be a quick trip. Easy in, easy out.

“That’s great,” Harry said, almost jumping on his toes with joy. He really missed his best friend. That and he was awfully worried over her. He just hoped she was okay. She was alive, that much he knew. She was smart enough to stay out of trouble, but was she smart enough to hide and stay safe?

“Okay, I’m leaving now,” Sirius said, turning towards the elf that would get him through the gate. He had provisions and camping gear, just in case. He could be gone for as long as two or three days. He hoped to be back in a few hours, but it might not happen that way.

“I’ll walk you down to the gate,” Harry said. He wanted to stay away from his office as long as possible. He dreaded parchmentwork. He was too young to be doing it.

“No, you have work to do. The elf will pop me there. Besides, I’m a big boy and can see myself off,” the dogman said, waving him away. He knew Harry was just avoiding his work. He should do his godfatherly duty and assist the boy, but he really wanted to show some maturity.

“Fine,” Harry said, pouting that he couldn’t get out of parchmentwork a little while longer.

“Go on, you are the one that said we need to be responsible.”

“Fine, have a safe trip.”

“I will. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her home safe,” Sirius promised, turning the boy around and gently pushing him towards the castle.

“Fine, I’ll go and do my work. Thanks, Sirius. I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” Harry said over his shoulder. He then went back to his office and started on the dreaded parchmentwork.   

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

Sirius decided to take the ferry to France. He hoped that someone was alive to take him across the channel. If not, there was always the tunnel. It would be a long flight, but he did have his broom with him. He couldn’t Apparate over the channel, so it was ferry or fly. He Apparated to the water and went to where he knew where the ferry was and was surprised to see there was indeed one still in operation. The man there was asking for food and not coin.

“What kind of food do you need?” he asked, reaching into his backpack hoping the man would be satisfied with some canned food.

“Meat,” the man said, looking around like a thief in the night. “I need meat,” he reiterated. He had a look of greed in his eyes. Like he was desperate and hording at the same time.

“I have some canned meat,” Sirius offered, thinking of the Spam he had with him. There had been tons of it in the neighborhood Harry lived in.

“I can deal with that. Five cans to the crossing,” the man said, snatching the offering with a hungry swipe.

Sirius handed over the cans and, in return, was motioned onto the creaking ferry. He boarded quickly, the wooden planks groaning beneath his boots, and glanced around at the other three passengers—each one eyeing the others from behind raised collars and wary eyes, their hands never far from their bags.

Sirius kept to the starboard side, gripping the railing as the wind whipped his hair and salty spray stung his face. He watched the churning wake trail behind them, occasionally looking up at a pair of seagulls swooping and diving in the rough breeze—one snatching a scrap of something from the water, the other shrieking in protest.

Every so often, a tense shuffle would echo from the other end of the boat. One passenger, a gaunt woman in a tattered coat, kept peering over her shoulder, as if expecting someone—or something—to appear on the horizon. Another, a hunched man, muttered into his collar and clutched a battered suitcase close to his chest, his knuckles white.

The journey stretched on for over an hour, the ferry bobbing over restless waves. As Calais came into view, Sirius scanned the coastline, searching for any movement among the battered buildings. The moment the ferry scraped the pier, the other passengers sprang up, collecting their belongings in hurried, jerky motions.

Sirius moved with purpose, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and leaping onto the dock as soon as the gangplank dropped. His boots landed with a satisfying thud on French soil. Without waiting to mingle, Sirius strode away from the group, letting the briny air play with his hair as he surveyed the unfamiliar, quiet shoreline. The tension of the crossing still coiled in his muscles, but he allowed himself a brief pause, breathing in—then reached for his wand and used a Point Me spell to find Hermione. It pointed to the north, so he headed off in that direction. Using his wand as a guide he wound his way through the city.

It was long, winding and empty.

There was very little to see. If there were people around, they were hiding. The shops weren’t open, but they weren’t boarded up either. There were no looters raiding the stores, so something was going on. There had to be some sort of community happening. However, they weren’t sharing with the outsiders.

He finally came to the hidden entrance to the magical part of town. It was a flower shop that held a hidden doorway in the back. He went to the doorway, which was open, and went into the portal and followed his wand’s pull.

There was still little to see here as well. It was quite depressing not to see the magic that was usually displayed in this Alley. Usually there were actors, artists, and other people showing off their wares and magic. There were things to buy, see, and just admire.

Now it was barren. There was garbage blowing in the gutters and the stores were boarded or broken. The looters had come here and raided the place. Not that there was much of use for them, there was no food to be had here, bar the few cafes. He would have taken anything left, but there was nothing on the shelves.

At least the goblins had not taken over. The French must have a better relationship with them then the British. At least that was Sirius’s opinion, it was the only thing he could think of as to why.

He continued on his way and found himself in front of Gringotts. He knocked on the door and it was answered soon enough.

“What do you want, human?” the goblin asked, his face twisted in a feral grin. He stood there dressed in armor and holding a spear.

“I followed a spell here to find a girl,” Sirius said, indicating his wand, which was indeed pointing inside the bank.  

“Her name?” the goblin asked, not letting him in. His whole body covered the narrow gap as he held the door open.

“Hermione Granger.”

The door slammed shut and Sirius was left outside. He stood there looking dumbfounded. He couldn’t understand why the French goblins were reacting differently than the British. It was a few minutes later, then Hermione was unceremoniously thrust outside. Her gear was thrown out behind her.

“Sirius?” she asked as the door slammed shut behind her.

“Hi, Hermione, I’ve come to take you home,” he said, smiling a winning smile.

“Home?” she asked, a bit dazed.

“Yeah, Harry sent me.”

“Harry?” she asked, looking around as if the other teen was there.

“Are you okay, Hermione? You seem a bit out of it,” he inquired, gently guiding her to a nearby bench so she could sit and catch her breath. She did seem a bit unfocused.  

“I’m hungry,” she said, like she had not eaten in days. “The goblins really didn’t feed us well. They gave us food enough to live from, but not three meals a day.” Her hair was lank and lackluster and there were bags under her eyes. Her face was dirty, and her clothes weren’t much better.

“Oh, well, here,” Sirius said, giving her some beef jerky. It was the first thing he grabbed. He didn’t know if it would settle on her stomach well, but she snatched it out of his hands quickly enough.

She fell on it like a starved woman. After she polished it off, she said, “We have to get the rest of them out.” She waved her hands at the doors of the bank, indicating who she meant.

“Why? Are they prisoners?” he asked, hoping that wasn’t true. He knew he couldn’t fight the goblins for prisoners, or hostages. He’d write the French government, if there was one, but that was the best he could do.

“Not exactly. They say we are free to leave anytime, but we have nowhere to go,” she said, looking at him in desperation. She knew she was asking a lot from him, but they were ill treated in there.

Sirius sighed and knocked on the door again.

“What?” the surly guard asked.

“I want the rest of the humans. I can take them with me,” Sirius said, trying not to sound too demanding. He had some money on him, if that’s what they wanted.

“What do we get?” the guard asked, his eyes narrowed in greed.

“What do you want?” was the question.

“The Alley,” was the answer.

“It’s not mine to give, but why don’t you just take it?” Sirius quipped. He still didn’t understand why they hadn’t yet.

“We didn’t want to fight the army of wizards,” the goblin confessed. They were down in numbers and couldn’t fight off an army. The virus had hit them hard.

“There isn’t an army anymore,” Sirius said, looking around at the deserted alley. “Most of the humans died.” He would have thought the goblins knew that. Were they more nonsecular than the British goblins.

“You speak the truth?” the goblin asked, looking around the deserted alley as if for the first time.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Sirius said, waving at the alley that was empty.

“We will then, however, I think we should keep the humans as hostages,” the goblin sneered. It would be a boon for them.

“What can I give you for them?” Sirius asked, not sure what he had that he could give up for them. He didn’t think his money would work this time.

“Nothing. We will keep them. Be off, before we take you as well,” the goblin said, slamming the door in his face.

“Sorry, Hermione, I did my best,” Sirius said, turning to the distraught girl. “We’ll write the government, but that’s the best we can do,” he added, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Why is this happening?” the bushy-hair teen wailed. She had been through a lot these last few days. First the virus had killed her parents, then she had been on the run from thieves the first few days, then she took shelter here at Gringotts, thinking the goblins would keep them safe. They weren’t too bad, but they weren’t friendly either. They took all her gold and kept her and the ten other humans in the lobby of the bank. They were given food once a day and water twice a day. They were allowed to talk, but little else.

Crookshanks hadn’t made it. He had died with her parents. She was all alone in the world.

“Come on, Hermione, let’s go home,” Sirius said, dropping his arm and taking hers in his right hand. He gathered up her things with his left hand and indicated that they should go. He didn’t want the goblin to change his mind.

“Wait,” she said, ducking away. “Can we check on Beauxbatons? I want to see if Fleur or anyone is alive there,” she said, just thinking about it.

“How do you know anyone from that school?” Sirius asked, then he remembered last year. “I’m sure they’re fine. However, we can send them an owl and extend an invitation for them to contact Hogwarts,” he offered, looking around to see if there was an owl handy. There wasn’t.

They started walking down the alley to a place where there might be one. Hermione knew where the international post office was, and she was sure there would be owls there. They came to the office, and it was boarded up, but the door was ajar, like someone had jimmied it open. There was hooting coming from inside, indicating there were owls there.

Sirius jotted down a quick note for the highest-ranking person to contact Flitwick and sent it off with the healthiest owl he could find. He quilled another note about the hostages in Gringotts for the French government, sending it off as well. They then tried to shoo off the rest of the owls, but they were too well trained. Hopefully, there were enough rats in the area to keep them fed.

“Shall we go now?” Sirius asked, picking up her things. He really wanted to get back to the school before dinner.

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione said, giving him a sad smile.

With that they were off to Hogwarts.

Hphphp

Meanwhile, Fred and Harry were having a talk with Neville and Luna at the Gryffindor table. It was lunch time, and Harry was sitting there because he still didn’t feel comfortable sitting at the Staff Table every time. That and he wanted to get the opinion of the students on the self-defense class.

“What do you think?” he asked when he had spelled out what he and Fred had talked about.

“I think it’s a great idea. I think you should put the parents to work too. I don’t think anyone should get a free ride,” Neville said, looking at the adults that were sitting at the Hufflepuff table bitching about the lack of service they were receiving at the castle. “They’ve been whinging all day. I think they need to realize just what the reality is now.”

“I agree,” Luna said, knowing that her dad was now dead. He would have wallowed in her death the first few days, but he would have pulled his own weight after. She was sure of it.

“They need to earn their keep,” Padma stated, her sister agreeing with her. They too were in mourning; they were the only ones left in their family in England. They had no idea who was left in India.

“We do too,” Harry said, making many of the kids listening cringe. They hadn’t thought about that. “We all have to chip in. There’s a lot of work to be done, and we all have to do it.”

“What are you going to do? Sit in your office and give orders?” Michael asked, sneering at Harry.

“Look, Corner, I didn’t ask to be Deputy Headmaster. It was assigned to me. But I am going to be the best one I can be,” Harry said, knowing that was probably what he was going to be doing. It was hard work though.

“I’ll just bet you did. You always get the cushy jobs. You never had to work hard a day in your life,” the belligerent boy stated, slamming his fist on the table.

“You don’t know shite about me or my life, so shut your gob,” Harry stated, staring the boy down. He was getting tired of Corner and his big mouth.

“I happen to know a thing or two about Harry’s life and you don’t, so shut it, arsehole,” Fred said, remembering the locked room and the cupboard under the stairs with ‘Harry’s room’ written on the walls.

“Bugger off, both of you. I’m not doing a damn thing to ‘earn my keep’,” Michael stated, folding his arms defiantly.

“Then you will find a new place to live,” Flitwick stated from behind the boy in his squeaky voice. It was hard to come off as a demanding figure with that voice and his stature, but he was going to give it his best shot. “That goes for the lot of you,” the diminutive Headmaster said, looking around the Great Hall. “We want and need you here, but no one is getting out of working for their keep.” He stood on the bench that was the seating for the Gryffindor Table so that he could be seen by everyone, bar the shortest of people.

“How dare you, you half-breed,” said one of the government officials. He looked at the new Headmaster as if he were dung on his shoe.

“Oh, he dares and he’s correct,” Amelia said, from the Staff Table as she stood to be heard. “You will work, or you will be put out on your ear.”

 “I am your boss,” the official stated, pointing a finger at her.

“There is no government anymore. You are no more my boss than Harry is,” she stated, looking down her nose at him. “We have ten farms that need work, students that need teaching, and a castle that needs cleaning. We have food that needs to be scavenged and people that need to be found. We have laws that need to be established and enforced. We need to train everyone in self-defense, and patrols that need to be done. If the enemy comes to our gate, then everyone needs to fight. There is plenty to do. I don’t want to hear of anyone not pulling their weight, or they will be put out,” she lectured.

“That’s the work of house elves,” the official stated, waving his hand dismissively.

“They will be doing other things,” Amelia lied. The house elves would be working the same jobs they always did, but their numbers were lower, and they needed help.

“Who is going to determine that we are pulling our weight?” a parent asked, worried about prejudice.

“The house elves,” Flitwick said, smiling serenely. “They can’t be bribed or bought. They will not be seen, and if I hear of anyone abusing them, they will be kicked out. No questions asked, they will be booted.” He glared at the purebloods among the crowd showing that he meant business.

“What do we get out of it?” another parent asked, greedy as ever.

“You get food, water, shelter and clothing. What any person needs to survive,” Andi said, her tone harsh. She didn’t like the snobbishness of the woman’s tone.

“Do we get to pick our work?” Narcissa asked, knowing that she had few skills. She didn’t mind working, she was bored. There were no charities to organize and there was nothing to do in the castle. She had no husband to cater to, and no son to coddle.

“No, but we will take into account your skills,” Flitwick stated, knowing that very few had any talents. “There will be a questionnaire soon that will help us with our assignments,” he added, hoping they got that out tomorrow.

That caused many to buzz with excitement or nervous anticipation. They didn’t want to work, but they didn’t think they’d make it on their own either. Some thought they’d just bully the house elves. Little did they know the elves had been ordered not to be seen under any circumstances.

“For now, I ask if there is anyone that can teach self-defense classes to the children? Both magical and muggle,” Flitwick asked, going back to his chair, so that he could be seen.

There were five hands in the air, and he asked if they would join him in his office after dinner. They all nodded and went back to their lunch.

“Well, that went well,” Harry said, grinning like a fool. “Thanks, Michael,” he said, nodding his head. He picked up his ham and cheese sandwich and started eating it.

“Fuck off, Potter,” the sullen boy said, picking up his plate and getting up and going to where they weren’t. He wound up going to the Slytherin Table where the more snobbish people were sitting. They didn’t much like the boy either, but he was more welcome there than at the Gryffindor Table.

“How are you two doing? I don’t get to talk to you much now that I have a job,” Harry said to Neville and Luna. He spent most of his time among the adults and the new Heads of Houses.

“I am doing okay,” Neville said, his tone soft. He was still mourning his grandmother. He didn’t much like her, but he loved her. She was a mean woman and had made his life a living hell, but she had loved him in her own way.

“I am surviving,” Luna said, her eyes and voice were sad. She was much more attached to her dad. To learn that he was indeed dead was heartbreaking. She should have gone home for Yule, but Umbridge had kept half the castle here as punishment for one reason or another.

For her it had been for being too flighty in class. For Neville it had been for being too outspoken. The Patil twins were foreigners, and most of those here were muggleborn. That was all the excuse she needed. Oh, she had made up some trumped-up charge, but in the in it boiled down to her bias. Harry had been supposed to stay, but Dumbledore had snuck him out before the woman could insert her punishment.

“I am happy to hear that you are getting better,” Harry said, giving Luna a one-armed hug. He knew it was hard on her, but he couldn’t really empathize. He didn’t have a family member to mourn like she did. He had the Weasleys, but they were friends, not family.

It was about then that the doors opened and in walked Percy Weasley with Bill and Fleur at his side. They looked worn, clean, but worn.

“Percy! Bill!” Fred said, standing and all but flying to their side. He grabbed them into a hug and held on tightly.

“Fred!” they both said, holding on just as tightly. They were all crying tears of joy.

Fleur stood off to the side, crying. She would never have this kind of reunion, or at least she didn’t think she would. Her parents were dead, and she didn’t know the fate of her sister.

Harry went to her side with Neville and Luna joining him. “Fleur, it is good to see you,” he said, taking her hands and kissing both of her cheeks.

“’Arry, et es good to see you as well,” she proclaimed, returning the gesture. Tears were still running down her face, but there was a smile there now.

“How did you come to be with the Weasleys?” he asked, watching the brothers reunite.

“I was wiz Bill when ze goblins rebelled. We ran and got to the Ministry. We ran into Percy and ran from zere as well. We did not like what zey was doing, zo we ran. Now we are ‘ere,” she said, gesturing to the Great Hall.

“You should have stuck with the government, you could have been here days ago,” Harry said with a chuckle. “But you’re here now, that’s all that matters. How did you survive?” he wanted to know.

“Bill es very resourceful,” Fleur stated in a respectful and sultry manner.

“I’ll bet he is,” Neville said, mumbling under his breath.

Harry elbowed him, and smiled at Fleur. “I am sure that he is,” he told her. “Come, let’s go talk to Headmaster Flitwick,” he said, touching Fred on the arm. “We need to let Filius know they are here,” he told the single twin.  

“I can see them myself,” Filius said from behind him.

“Merlin dammit, Headmaster, quit doing that,” Harry said, jumping a foot. Flitwick had taken to sneaking up on everyone now that he was Headmaster. He said it was a privilege that he was going to take full advantage of.

“No,” Flitwick deadpanned, then he turned to the newcomers and greeted them. “Welcome to Hogwarts, we will go over the rules later. Until then enjoy some lunch.” He gestured that they could join Fred and Harry at the Gryffindor Table.

“Thanks, Professor,” Bill said, grinning like he had won the lottery. He was grateful to have his living family all together.

“Yes, thank you,” Percy stated, much more modest. He was just as happy.

“Go on now, entertain your family, Mr. Weasley. We will talk later,” the Headmaster said, going back to his seat.  

“So, Flitwick is Headmaster now,” Bill said, going to sit near Fred, while Percy sat near Harry. Fleur sat next to Bill, while Luna and Neville sat on the other side of the table. Plates had to be exchanged, and Bill, Fleur and Percy served themselves up some sandwiches, but finally they all got settled. They talked while they were doing all this shuffling.

“That’s right. Harry is Deputy Head, while I am Head of Gryffindor,” Fred said, pointing first at Harry then at himself. He puffed his chest out proudly.

They gave them the rundown of who oversaw what, and what had happened the last two days. The two Weasley men listened in with bated breath, wanting to learn more about what was going on in the only civilized place they had seen since the world ended.

“Wow, you lot have gotten a lot done in the last few days,” Bill said, shaking his head. “We’ve been hiding for a week now, hoping to get here. We waited until we could get past the goblins. We were hiding in Diagon Alley. We had to sneak out,” he explained, since they had been hiding in Percy’s flat. “We got out three days ago,” he stated, looking at Fleur. “We first went to the Burrow to see if anyone was there. Fred had told us that everyone was dead, but I wanted to make sure. I saw the clock and he was right, even Charlie is dead.” That had been devastating news. To see all those hands pointing to deceased. He had cried for hours.

“I told you,” Fred grumbled. He should know, he saw most of the family die in St. Mungo’s. He didn’t understand why Bill needed more confirmation.

“I just had to make sure on Charlie. You didn’t see him die,” Bill said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Fred just nodded his head.

“We then went to Fleur’s house in France to see if anyone was there, but only her dead parents were there. We buried them and came here. Beauxbatons is locked down, no visitors,” he explained, looking up at the Staff Table.  He’d have to talk to the Headmaster about that.

“That is news,” Harry said, making a mental note to include Bill and Fleur in the meeting tonight. They might add some things to the meeting about what was going on in the world. He lifted his head when the doors opened again. His smile formed on his face when he saw a bushy-haired witch walk into the Great Hall.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing

Hphphp

“Harry!” Hermione cried as she ran to his arms, dropping her things on the floor as she did.

“Hermione!” Harry yelled as he ran to her arms, making those around him move out of his way.

The two of them met in the middle of the Great Hall and hugged each other with such ferocity that they slammed into each other and almost fell to the floor. Everybody who had any type of emotions was in tears to see such a reunion between such good friends. Fred, Neville, and Luna got up and met the two and created a group hug. They all hung on to one another for a long time.

Sirius went to the Staff Table and joined the adults. He let the kids have their reunion. He wasn’t needed here. He would tell Harry all about his trip later. He didn’t need to bask in the air of accomplishment. Harry could thank him later.

“Hermione, it is so good to see you,” said Harry, picking up her things and taking her hand in his. “I've been so worried about you. I couldn't get a hold of you by owl or any other means of communication. Where have you been?” he asked, his concern showing on his face.

“I was at Gringotts in France,” she cried, her tears streaming down her face. The hand in his was in a death grip.  “Oh, it was horrible. They barely fed us. My parents died, Crookshanks died, everybody died. People were dying all around me. I didn't know what to do. And then the thieves came, and they tried to take my money. And I had to run, and then I ran to the bank and then the goblins took all my money to let me stay there. And then I had nowhere else to go and I couldn't get in touch with you. And I didn't know what else to do. And it's been just such a horrible thing. And I just didn't know what to do. And I had nowhere to go. And then Sirius showed up and he took me here, and it was so...so… so…  Oh, Harry, I just didn't know what to do.”

She was near hysterical in her rant. It had been a very bad week and a half for her. Her usual logical mind was a mess, and she was not thinking clearly. She was more than happy to be home though. She took a few deep breaths and started to calm down. She clamped harder on to Harry and took refuge in the fact that she was with at least one of her friends. She saw Fred but didn’t see Ron. She looked around and started having a bad feeling.

“Well, you’re here safe now. And you don't have to worry about money. Money has no value anymore. We'll take care of you,” Harry said, brushing her hair back from her face. It was so lanky, he knew she would want a shower soon. He was more than willing to let her have one.

“Harry, where’s Ron?” she asked, tentatively. She didn’t want to know. It was too much. Why was this happening? Couldn’t she have both of her friends? Was that too much to ask?

Fred and Harry shared a look, then they both looked at the floor. Then they looked at Hermione and shook their heads. Hermione's shoulders slumped, and she broke out into tears again and hugged them both tightly. The three of them sank down onto a nearby bench, holding on to each other for comfort. They cried for a few minutes, their embrace drawing the rest of their friends into a quiet, supportive circle, and soon broke apart.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said, looking at Fred first then Harry. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse, and frowned at the ceiling like it was to blame for her problems.

“It’s alright, Hermione,” Harry said, sadly. He felt bad for her. She had suffered more loss than he had.

“Well, it’s not alright, but we’ve had some time to deal with it. Bill and Percy are here now. They only got here today, strangely,” Fred said, looking fondly at his remaining family, who were still sitting at the Gryffindor Table.

“A lot has happened these last few days,” Harry said, squeezing her hand. “We have loads to tell you,” he said, beaming at her. He was hoping that by catching her up, he’d get her mind off all the loss.

“Yeah, Hermione, Harry is now the Deputy Headmaster of the school,” Fred said, slapping Harry on the back in pride. “I’m Head of Gryffindor,” he added, puffing out his chest.

“Deputy Headmaster? How did that happen?” she asked, looking at Harry with a questioning look. She ignored Fred’s accomplishment for now. She’d address that later. She had to concentrate on Harry. He was much too young for that position. Besides, what happened to Professor McGonagall? Was she dead?

“It's a long story, and we'll tell you all about it after we've given you something to eat. You look like you haven't eaten in days,” Harry said, leading her to the Gryffindor Table.

“Sirius gave me some beef jerky,” she said, then her tummy grumbled, making her blush. It hadn’t been near enough after days of so little to eat.

“That's not enough. Come, lunch is almost over, but I'm sure there's still some food on the table,” Neville said, following them to the table.

With that the five of them went and sat down and gave Hermione some food. She fell on it like a ravaged dog and ate as much as she could without getting sick. People were staring at her because that was not something Hermione usually did. She was shoveling it down as fast as she could without spilling it on her lap. That took talent.

Harry just beamed at her. He was just so happy that she was around that he didn't care how she ate. “Slow down, Hermione, it's not going anywhere,” he said good naturedly.

“I know, I'm just so hungry,” she said, but she slowed down and showed some decorum.

“You're going to make yourself sick if you eat like that,” said Luna, smiling at her to take the bite out of the words. She could tell the other girl had had it rough. The only person who had had more loss than her in their group was Fred.

“I'm all right,” said Hermione. She looked up and saw Percy, Bill and Fleur sitting at the table. “Fleur, I'm glad to see that you're okay,” she said between bites of food. “I wanted Sirius to go check on Beauxbatons, but he said that we would send a letter there instead.” She then explained what they had done and how they had found the post office and sent the letter to the school.

“Et es locked down, I am sure,” said Fleur, nodding at her description.

“It probably is,” agreed Hermione, still eating some soup.

“Zen it would have done no good for you to go zere,” The French woman said, leaning against Bill. She was worried about her friends there, wondering who was still alive and who was dead. She was very concerned about her sister, who was at her grandparents’ house. Gabriel had been there for Yule and her parents were going to be there the next day, but they had died. She had no idea if her sister or grandparents were alive or not.

“That's what Sirius thought. So, we sent a letter and hopefully they will get in contact with Headmaster Dumbledore soon,” Hermione said. Sirius hadn’t told her about the Head change. They hadn’t talked much. They had just sent the letters off and portkeyed here.

“Hermione, Dumbledore is dead,” Fred said, looking at her sadly. Not that he was sad the man was dead, but he knew she looked up to the man. He still didn’t know what the old man had done to Harry, but that had put him off the ex-Headmaster. He just hoped that it didn’t set a rift between Harry and Hermione. He knew how much Hermione worshiped authority.

“Oh, no,” gasped Hermione, putting her hand to her mouth.

“Flitwick is Headmaster now,” Neville told her, pointing to the Staff Table, where she could see who was there. Flitwick was sitting in the Headmaster’s chair and no one was sitting in the Deputy’s chair.

“Does that mean McGonagall is dead too?” she asked, not seeing the woman there. Then she remembered that Harry was Deputy now, so the woman must be dead.

“Yes, and so is Snape,” Harry said, before she could ask.

“What of Umbridge?” she asked, hope in her tone. She really hated that woman.

“Yes, that bitch is dead too,” Harry said with sadistic glee.

“Normally I would condemn you for your language, but I completely agree with your sentiment. So, give me the rundown of who's in charge,” she said, shaking her head. Her head was reeling with the news of so much death, but she wanted the news of what was happening. She grabbed some dessert and started in on some apple pie.

So, they gave her the lowdown of who's in charge of what and who was left alive and how everybody came into being at the school. They also told her what was going to happen from now on and what the rules were going to be. The self-defense classes were met with some agreement.

“I never was one much for Physical Education, but I guess I understand why we would have to have self-defense classes. After I was attacked by thieves, I understand it's now a fend for oneself type world,” she stated after she finished off her meal and push the plate aside. She was finally full, and her tummy was hurting a bit.

“I know you don't like physical violence, Hermione, but this is something that has to be done,” said Harry, knowing that his best friend would rather talk things out before resorting to fist-a-cuffs.

“Who said I don't like physical violence?” stated Hermione, sticking her nose in the air. “Don't you remember who was the one who popped Malfoy in the nose?” she asked, getting a glassy look in her eyes as she remembered the fond memory.

“Oh yeah, I remember that. That was a glorious moment,” Harry said, getting a faraway look in his eyes. It was enough to fuel a Patronus.

“You hit Draco Malfoy?” asked Neville, looking floored. He never would have thought that Hermione would have had it in her. Sure, she stood up for him a time or two, but to resort to socking someone? That was new.

“He was being a loathsome cockroach,” Hermione said primly. She then told them the story, leaving out the time turner, about Malfoy gloating over the execution of Buckbeak and how she didn’t like it. So, she hit him.

“I would have loved to have seen that,” said Neville, getting a vacant look on his face as he pictured the scene in his head.

“It hurt my fist. I think I hit him wrong,” she said, shaking her hand like she had just delivered the blow.

Harry reached for his own slice of pie and gestured with his fork for emphasis. “That's why we're going to have self-defense classes, so we don't get hurt trying to defend ourselves,” he said, looking at her like it was only reasonable.

“I said I understood,” Hermione said, giving him a look.

Luna, twirling a strand of her silvery hair absentmindedly, suddenly spoke up. “That and the werewolves have all gone feral.” It had been something that had kept her up at night. She was very afraid of the school being attacked. She didn’t like that they were roaming unchallenged.

“They've gone feral?” asked Hermione, looking up at the Staff Table and seeing Tonks. She knew the woman was soft on Mr. Lupin. Her eyes drifted to Sirius, and she wondered what he thought of his best friend going feral. This had to be hurting the both of them.

Harry nodded his head and said, “That's right.” He too looked at the two adults and Andi. He knew they were still hurting over it. “We've got to defend ourselves against them and all the people who have gone evil. Not to mention the Death Eaters. We don't have to worry about Voldemort. He's gone.” He said this with some pride, like he had had something to do with it. It wasn’t that he was proud of it, but he was glad the Dark Lord was gone. He was happy that that part of his life was over. He was excited that the prophecy was defunct. That he didn’t have to hunt down the Horcruxes. He believed Sirius in that they were dead too.

“Are you sure he's gone?” Hermione inquired. She was nervous about it. It had been reported that the man was dead in the past and that report was wrong. She didn’t want him popping up when it was least convenient.

“Yes, I'm sure,” Harry said, very certain.

“How can you be certain?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Dumbledore's ghost said he saw him in the afterlife,” he said like that was a normal thing, which in the wizarding world, it was.  

“Dumbledore's ghost is around?” she asked, getting excited again. She would love to talk to the deceased Headmaster. There were so many questions she could ask him. The man was a genius.

“Not anymore. Sirius banished him,” Harry said, with a lot of bitterness.

“Whyever did he do that?” Hermione asked with surprise in her tone.

“He was being a nuisance.”

“You're going to have to tell me the whole story,” she said, wondering at the sour tone. She thought that Harry loved the Headmaster like a grandfather.

“I will, but not right now.” He had no desire to air his dirty laundry in the Great Hall. They knew too much of his life as it was.

“Is there anything else I should know?” she asked, looking around like they would tell her everything.

“No, I think we've just about covered everything,” Harry said, looking at his watch. He had been here too long.  “I've got to go. I've got parchmentwork I've got to get done.” He didn’t want to go, but he really needed to learn all this stuff. He wasn’t actually writing up the curriculums, he was just studying on how to write them. Flitwick was a harsh taskmaster.

“Parchmentwork?”

“That's right. I've got curriculums I've got to get started, I've got parchmentwork that I've got to get filled out, and I've got schedules that I've got to organize,” the teenage Deputy Headmaster said with a sigh. He really hated that aspect of his job. The studying was going to kill him, he was sure. He much preferred the practical parts of it.

“What type of curriculums do you have to fill out? There are no classes right now,” she said, guessing that with most of the staff dead there were no classes. She was correct, of course, but…

“There's going to be, which is why I have curriculums that I have to do,” he pointed out. He still had to assign teachers for said curriculums. They needed to get that questionnaire out to the adults soon so they could get those positions filled. That was something he was doing with Flitwick and Sprout.

Hermione sighed. She was very worried about her best friend. She felt he was taking on too much for someone his age and mentality. “Oh, Harry, isn't that a bit too much responsibility for you? You've never been trained for anything like this.” He wasn’t a bad student, but he wasn’t the most studious either.

“Flitwick's teaching me,” he said, defensively. He had been working hard since he had been picked.

“But, Harry, you're only a fifteen-year-old boy. You’re not nearly old enough to take on this type of responsibility,” she protested again. She felt someone with her maturity might be able to handle it, but Harry, well, he was more likely to mess it up.

“Hence the word ‘teaching’ me. Have some faith, Hermione,” Harry said, a bit hurt that she didn’t believe in him.

“I still don't think you should be responsible for any of this,” she said, laying a hand on his arm.

Harry laughed and patted her hand. “Don't take it up with me, take it up with Hogwarts. She's the one who assigned it to me,” he said, waving at the room in general.

“Oh, that’s rubbish. It's only a castle. A castle can’t assign you anything,” she said, not believing for a moment that the castle was sentient. Not even in the world of magic would a building have a conscience.

“Hogwarts is sentient,” Harry debated, looking at her queerly. He would have thought she would have been curious about that aspect of the castle.

“I've never heard of such nonsense in my entire life. A castle can't be sentient,” she denied.

“It's magic, Hermione,” he argued, wondering why she was fighting about this. Was she stressed? Usually, she didn’t dismiss something like this so ferociously. She was usually more open-minded than this. Wasn’t she?

“I'll believe it when I see it,” she said, knowing that she was being pigheaded, but she just couldn't seem to help herself.

Harry just sighed in frustration. “I'm not going to argue semantics with you. You can either believe me or not. I'm telling you; Hogwarts assigned me to be Deputy Headmaster, and I've got responsibilities that I need to take care of.” He really needed to get going. Flitwick was looking at him like he was loitering.

“Do you need any help?” she offered, thinking she would see what he was doing and perhaps prove that he was in over his head.

“No, thank you. I've got Professor Flitwick to help me out, and Professor Sprout is also helping me where she can,” Harry said, looking at her like he knew what she was thinking. Now if she had asked in a different way, he might have taken her up on her offer.

“What am I to do while you're doing that?” she asked, looking around the room like she had not seen it before. There were no classes, so she had no homework to keep her busy.

“You can do what the rest of the students do and go to the library or help clean the castle or do whatever it is they're doing. I'm not sure what that is. Uh, most of them are studying random things, I think,” he said, looking at Luna and Neville.

Neville glanced up from his book and shifted in his seat, closing a botanical text with a soft thud. “Yeah, Hermione, most of us are studying. I am researching plants. Luna is reading the stars,” he said, coming to Harry’s rescue as he stood to stretch his legs. He wondered what had gotten into Hermione. She was being obstinate. It was as if she was trying to pick a fight. Perhaps she was tired.

“I think I'd like that after this last couple of days of doing nothing but running and hiding,” Hermione said, thinking a good study session might be what the doctor ordered. She might study up on self-preservation, or self-defense. Anything that would help them survive in this new world.

“All right, then I'm going to go do what I have to do. You do your studying,” said Harry. With that, he gave her another hug and got up and went to his office. He hoped she would be in a better mood when they met again.

“I still can't believe he's the Deputy Headmaster,” said Hermione after he left. She was shaking her head in disbelief. She still didn’t believe that the school had anything to do with it.

“I think he makes an excellent Deputy Headmaster,” said Luna in that wispy tone of hers. “He's already gotten so much done,” she said, smiling her quirky smile.

“Oh, really? Like what?” asked Hermione, not sure if she believed it.

“Well, he's already organized the elves into farm groups. Without them we wouldn’t have food,” Luna stated dreamily. That wasn’t quite true, they had all the scavenged food, but Harry’s elves and farms would keep them in fresh food.

“But that slave labor,” protested Hermione. She was still on that crusade. Not even the end of the world would stop that.

“No, it is not. Everybody has to work to earn a living now. They get paid the same as we're going to get paid, in food, shelter and board. Not to mention their magic,” said Neville. He had never been on board with her cause. He was a pureblood, and he didn’t agree with her point of view on the house elves. He thought they got paid with equal exchange. They got magic for their work. They got to live; without the bond they would die. Didn’t she understand that?

“That's right,” said Luna, she was the same as Neville. She understood the bond better than Hermione did. “Everybody's going to have to work for the same thing. Well, we survive without the bond, but we need to work for food and such.”

“Don't look at it as slave labor,” said Bill, who also understood the relationship between the humans and house elves.  “Think of it as earning your keep. It’s not the same as the one between the house elves, but everyone here is going to have to pull their weight. The house elves will continue the way they always have,” he added, knowing they were going to have to sit her down and explain it all in greater detail.

“Et es ze way of the world,” said Fleur, nodding her head in agreement with the rest of the table.

“I don't like it,” said Hermione, not one to back down even with so much hardship. She crossed her arms stubbornly, her jaw set in that familiar way that meant she wouldn’t yield easily. She had been faced with this before. She would stand up for those she thought were being repressed.

Luna tucked a stray lock of silvery hair behind her ear and leaned forward, her expression unusually serious. “You're not going to make it long here then,” she said, her pale eyes fixed on Hermione. She didn’t want to sound harsh, but she didn’t want Hermione to think that she was going to skate along either. “And according to Professor Flitwick, if you don't pull your weight, you're not going to stay.”

“Harry won't let them throw me out,” the bushy-haired witch said. Not that she intended on not ‘pulling her weight’. She was not afraid of hard work, but she would be damned if they weren’t going to compensate her for it.

Fred folded his arms and shook his head. “Harry won't have much say in the matter,” he said, frowning at her. Why was she being so confrontational today?

“He's the Deputy Headmaster, of course he'll have a say in the matter,” she said, frowning back at him.

“No, he won't,” said Professor Flitwick, appearing behind her, making her jump along with everyone else. “Everybody will do what they are assigned, and that includes you, Miss Granger.” He had been listening to see if she was adjusting. She seemed to be stressed out and in need of a shower and bed. Perhaps after a good night’s sleep she would see things in a better light.

Hermione clenched her fists on the table, her voice tight with defiance. “But it's slave labor,” she said obstinately. She didn’t really believe it, but she didn’t want to back down and look foolish.  

“Think of it as chores,” the diminutive professor said, trying a different route.

“You are not my parent.”

“You will be earning something out of it. You will earn food, and you will earn shelter, and you will earn clothing. You're not getting nothing out of it. It is not slave labor,” explained the Headmaster, trying for calm.

“I see,” said Hermione, though she was being petulant about it.

Flitwick smiled at her and patted her on the arm. “You can be stubborn all you want, Miss Granger. If you want to stay here, you will have to earn your keep. Everybody must,” he said.

“I will do what I must, but I do not have to like it,” she said, turning her head trying to hide her tired eyes from the all-knowing look she was getting.

“As long as we understand each other.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, breaking into a large yawn.

“Why don’t you take Miss Granger to the girl’s dorm, Miss Lovegood,” Flitwick said to Luna. “I am sure she will be in a better mood when she has had a nap,” he offered.

“Yes, sir,” Luna said, getting up and indicating for Hermione to do the same.

Hermione got up, gathered her stuff from the floor next to her and followed her. She hoped her mind was clearer when she woke up. She didn’t like the argumentative person she was being. She didn’t mind debating occasionally, but she was being quite bitchy, and she didn’t like it.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing

Hphphp

Hermione did feel much better after her nap. It was dinner time when she woke up and she joined everybody in the Great Hall. They were sitting at the Gryffindor Table again. Harry joined them along with Fred. Harry was still feeling uncomfortable sitting at the Staff table. He would get there eventually, but for now he’d join his friends. Bill and Fleur were with them.

“So, I want to apologize for my earlier behavior. I'm under a lot of stress,” Hermione said, as she dished up some baked chicken and potatoes with candied carrots.

They were on rations now, only three different dishes. Roast beef, baked chicken, and pork chops. There were many different sides, there were loads of vegetables and fruits and a lot of bread and condiments, but those were the three meat dishes.

“It's okay, Hermione, I understand,” said Harry as he decided to have some roast beef. He grabbed some stewed tomatoes and bread.  

“Yeah,” said Fred, opting for the pork chops, scalloped potatoes and asparagus. “We're all under a lot of stress. It's been quite a bad couple of weeks.” His head hung low for a second then he lifted it and smiled at his brothers. He was happy they were there; they made everything that much better.

“I really want to say I'm sorry about what happened to your family, Fred,” said Hermione, reaching over the table and putting her hand on his arm. “I will miss Ron deeply,” she said with tears in her eyes.

“It's okay, Hermione, I understand. I'm sorry about what happened to your parents too. And Crookshanks,” he said, patting her hand and then gently removing his arm from under it.

“We can sit and give condolences to each other all night long, but I think we should put it past us and move on,” said Harry. He didn’t feel the loss they did. He didn’t miss his relatives like they did. He did miss Ron though.

“Too right,” said Bill, being a bit more pragmatic than they were. He was older and wiser and felt that they should just look forward to the future now. He missed his family deeply, but they needed to move past it and get on with life.

“So, what are we going to do going forward?” asked Hermione, cutting her chicken and taking a bite. She chewed it and wondered if they were going to have such a wonderful meal in the future. It was still just as delicious as the first time she ate anything in the Great Hall, but she worried about future meals. Where would they get the spices?

“Well, most of us kids are going to be doing self-defense, classes and working on the farms. The adults are going to go out and find more people and scavenging. Some will be teaching classes if they have the credentials. It all depends on what their skill set is,” said Harry, looking thoughtful.

“That sounds like an excellent plan of action,” said Hermione, smiling at him like he had said something brilliant.

“It really is,” said Harry, smiling back at her.

“Are you worried about the Death Eaters? Really?” asked Hermione, worrying her lip. She didn’t want to worry about them. She just wanted to do her work and move on with life. She didn’t want to face anymore hardship. She would if she had to, but life had thrown her too many hardballs lately.

“I'm not overly worried about them, but I am a bit concerned,” said Harry, taking a bite of his meal. “We are in one of the most fortified defensive places in England, so I am somewhat uneasy.” He looked around the Great Hall, like they would come in at any minute, but not in a fearful way. More like he was ready to fight.

“I get what you're saying. They might come after Hogwarts just for a place to hole up,” she said, sighing a great sigh. She knew it was something that anyone would do. It was a great place to have as a stronghold.

“We have the war wards up,” said Fred, nodding strongly. He had faith in them, to a point. He knew they weren’t foolproof, hence the self-defense lessons.

“I want to take a look at those,” said Bill, looking up from his meal of roast beef and mashed potatoes and gravy. “I want to see if I can add to them.” He had a glint in his eyes, like a mad scientist would get with an experiment.

“You'll have to talk to Headmaster Flitwick about that,” said Harry, not liking that look in his eyes. “He'll let you commune with Hogwarts and see if there's anything you can do to add to them. I don't think there is. They're pretty formidable.”

“It never hurts to take a look,” said Bill with a nonchalant shrug. “The goblins had some pretty formidable wards as well, and they had some things that humans don't know about that do,” the curse-breaker said, the twinkle in his eyes getting brighter.

“That's very true,” said Fred, nodding in agreement, “and we'd be a fool not to take you up on that. That, and we have to worry about the goblins too.” It was something that had been plaguing his mind as of late.

“I don't think you have to worry about the goblins. They're pretty content about staying in Diagon Alley. That and they have Knockturn Alley too,” Bill said, waving his worry away. He knew them better than the rest of them.

“So, you think they're just going to maintain their territory and not try and take over any more land?” asked Hermione earnestly. She had a great deal of hope in her tone. She really didn’t want to have to worry about the goblins. This was the first time she had heard about it.

“That's right. They’re territorial, but they're too few in numbers to try right now. If we leave them alone to their territory, they'll leave us alone. They might come after us when their numbers are greater, but for now, we’ve got nothing to worry about,” the eldest Weasley said, nodding his head solidly. He was sure of it. Unless the virus changed them dramatically, they would stay where they were. He would keep an eye on them, but he was sure they would stay put.

“Well, hopefully the Death Eaters will go after them and they'll kill each other off,” said Padma, bitterly. She had no love for goblins.

"Oh, what a horrible thing to say,” said Luna, looking at her queerly. She didn’t know Padma was so bloodthirsty.

“Et es the way of ze world,” said Fleur with a casual shrug. She agreed with Bill. The goblins would stay put.

“Very true,” said Fred, cutting his pork chops. He didn’t care what the goblins did as long as they did it elsewhere. “Especially now in this world.”

“Well, that's one way to look at it,” said Neville, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. He wondered if they would have this juice later. He was sure they would run out of the spices sooner or later. “A horrible way, but one way to look at it. I'd like to think the community that we're building up won't look at it that way, but it's going to be that way from now on.” He sounded sad about it but resigned.

“Starting tomorrow, self-defense classes are going to be mandatory,” Harry said, as if trying to cheer them up.  “Professor Flitwick has interviewed a few of the people that said they know how to teach it, and Mr. Anderson has agreed to teach the muggle self-defense, and Mr. Plagers has agreed to teach magical self-defense.”

“I don't know these people. Are you sure they're qualified?” asked Hermione, in a small panic. Not that she knew everyone, but she knew a lot of names of the Alumni and students.

“Mr. Anderson is one of the muggleborns, uh, that didn't make it, father, and Mr. Plagers is an Alumni. They have the credentials that says that they're qualified,” said Harry, giving her a knowing smile. “I'm sure Headmaster Flitwick wouldn't have them teach you if he didn't vet them thoroughly.” He knew Filius had, because he had been there for half of it. Anderson was built like a brickhouse and had taught in the muggle world, while Plagers was an Ex-Auror that had injured out.

“Why doesn't the Headmaster teach us? He is more than qualified. He is a dueling champion,” asked Luna. She knew that from her time as his student and ward. Many people in Ravenclaw had commented on it, many times.

“He has more than enough on his plate now, and he can't take time out to teach an entire class on a weekly basis. He'll be there for the first class, but after that, he's got too much to do,” said Harry, giving her a warm smile. It was a logical question. The man was more than qualified.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” said the flighty girl. She gave him another wonderful smile and continued her dinner.

“Harry, now that you're all settled. Do you need any help with your administrative duties? I can be your secretary,” suggested Hermione. Now that she was stable in her head, she was more than willing to help.

Harry was more than willing to let her help and have her hang around him during his office hours. She would be a great asset. “I could do with a secretary, Hermione,” he said, looking exhausted for a moment. “Are you sure that's something you want to do?”  

“Well, it sure beats sitting around here doing nothing but homework,” Hermione said, clapping her hands for a second. It would get her mind off her parents’ death. She needed to keep her mind busy. It wasn’t like there were any therapists. “Perhaps I can get a Time Turner,” she hummed thoughtfully.

Harry put a hand on her arm and said, “Well, I'll be more than happy for the extra help.” He ignored the Time Turner comment. If it were up to him, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Oh, thank you, Harry. I’ll be more than happy to help you with your administrative work,” she gushed, giving him a one-armed hug. “Just let me get a few things situated here and I will be there bright and early tomorrow morning.” She bounced in place and looked around the room trying to contain her excitement.

“What do you have to get situated?” asked Harry, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, you're right, there are no classes now. I wanted to see my schedule before taking on more duties, but I'll fit yours into mine first," she said with a weak smile.

“Classes are going to start next week if we get everything going on schedule,” said Harry, looking up at the Staff Table. He knew that the Headmaster was doing something tonight to get the ball rolling. 

“That's excellent news,” said Hermione, bouncing in place.

“Yeah,” said Neville, finishing off his meal. He scraped the juices of his meat up with some bread and ate it. He then put his napkin on his plate, indicating he was done. The plate disappeared. “It's getting kind of boring just studying in the library.” He was done trying to find things to keep him busy. Not that he thought he knew everything on Herbology, but it was boring without the plants to examine.

“I don't know,” said Luna, waving her fork in the air. “I am enjoying studying the stars.” She giggled a bit.

“You're just looking for futures to predict,” said Neville, tickling her nose, causing her to giggle more.

“But everybody's been so happy about it,” said Luna, swatting his hand away. “I have predicted many futures.”

“She predicted mine,” said Padma, getting a serious look on her face.

“Mine too,” said Parvati, getting a dreamy look on hers.

“Were they good futures?” asked Harry, looking back and forth between the twins.

“They were better than our past,” said the twins together. Their voices were the same, but the inflictions were different.

“Well, not much can change from that,” said Harry glumly.

“Any rate it would be good to have classes going again,” said Hermione, grabbing some of the dessert that just appeared on the table. There wasn’t much to choose from. It was only ice cream, cake, treacle tart and some other pastries. “I can be your secretary in the afternoons when classes are over. I can do my homework during my down time.” She didn’t think there would be much for her to do as his secretary. How much work can a teenager do?

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” said Harry. He knew he’d have a lot for her to do. He had loads of files that needed to be organized and filed.

They ate in silence for a few minutes and then, “Attention everybody, please,” said Headmaster Flitwick as he stood on his chair and tapped on his glass. The noise could be heard throughout the Great Hall. “At any second now, the house elves are going to put in front of you a questionnaire. On that questionnaire, you will be asked a series of questions about your talents and hobbies. I would like to ask that you answer these to the best of your abilities and with complete truthfulness. Doing so will put you in the best possible location and vocation.”

That set off a lot of whispering. Some were excited and others were grumbling. Hermione leaned forward, grabbing her quill and parchment from her bag, ready to jot down anything important, while Harry glanced around, trying to gauge the mood of the hall.  

“If you do not answer truthfully,” he continued, quieting everyone down, “you will not be happy with what you are assigned when you are given your allocation for work. If you are put in such a situation where you are not happy, that will be your own undoing for you not being truthful on this questionnaire. I cannot guarantee that everybody will be put where they are most agreeable, however, we will do our best to situate everybody where they are best needed. Thank you.” And with that, he sat back down.

A few seconds later, a parchment sat in front of everybody on clean plates, the rest of the plates having disappeared. Ink and quills manifested themselves in the middle of the tables as the dessert dishes had disappeared. For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of ink and parchment scratching together was heard. There was a bunch of mumbling, a lot of discontent was heard throughout the Great Hall.

“What do you mean, do I like shrubbery?” Fred asked as he scratched his head.

“How could they possibly want to know if I know how many days there is in between the full moons?” Neville wondered as he wrote the answer.

“E equals MC squared?”  Luna questioned with a twinkle in her eyes as she scribbled away.

On and on these questions went, as everybody wrote on the form. It took the better part of a half an hour for everybody to answer at least half of the questions and then the questionnaire disappeared from the table.

“Hey, I wasn't done answering that,” yelled a voice from the Slytherin table.

“It doesn't matter whether you finish the questionnaire or not, we just wanted to get a general idea of what you knew in the matter of time we gave you to answer,” Flitwick said, making placating gestures.

“All right then. What are you going to do now that you have our answers?” somebody asked in a demanding tone.

“Some of you, depending on your disposition, will be allocated to go and gather other people to bring back to the castle. Finding other survivors, scavenging food and such. Some of you will be assigned to teach. Some of you will be appointed administrative government work. And others of you will be designated to the farms,” was the answer. He smiled at them in a gentle manner to make sure that he was being as honest as possible.

“And if we refuse?” was the belligerent question.

Why it was asked, Harry didn’t know. He was sure they knew the answer. Flitwick had made it perfectly clear in the last few days what the outcome was.

“Then you will leave,” the diminutive Headmaster said, not even missing a beat.

“Just like that?” was the surprised answer. Again, Harry wondered about that.

“Just like that.”

“What gives you the right to dictate who can stay at Hogwarts?” asked one of the ex-Government employees. He had been one of the mouthier ones. He had been bitching about how they weren’t catering to him and his needs like they should be. He would not be getting a government position again.

“Hogwarts does. She was the one who assigned me to be the head of the school, and she is the one who's going to tell me who stays and who goes,” Filius said, sounding smug. He looked at the castle ceiling fondly.

“You cannot tell me that this pile of rocks is sentient,” the same man said, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I assure you that she is,” Filius said, laughing at the man.

“Prove it,” the man said, glaring at the half-goblin.

“That is not up to me, if Hogwarts wants you to know she is sentient, then she will,” the Headmaster stated, nodding wisely.

“I don’t believe you either. I think you usurped the position,” someone yelled from the Slytherin table.

There were some protests sounding from throughout the room and an argument broke out. People started shouting at one another. They stood from their seats and started screaming at one another. There was more on the side of Flitwick than against him. Flitwick was about to put his wand in the air, when something told him not to.

Suddenly, the walls of the Great Hall shimmered with an ethereal glow. The enchanted ceiling, usually reflecting the outside sky, transformed into a vast canvas displaying a series of intricate runes and symbols. The chandeliers dimmed, casting a mystical light that seemed to pulse with life. The floor vibrated gently, and a low hum filled the air, resonating through every stone of the ancient castle.

That caused everyone to silence and sit down or fall on to the floor. They stared at the ceiling in awe. A hush fell over the Great Hall as they all stared at the ceiling captured.

A whispering breeze swept through the hall, gently rustling the students' robes and carrying with it a sense of ancient wisdom and power. The very air seemed to thrum with magic, as if the castle itself was breathing, alive with consciousness.

A song broke out and the lights that cascaded through the Hall were bright, and in them Fawkes appeared. His fire burned bright and blended in with the lights that burned on the ceiling. He broke into a song that harmonized with her song and together they sang, making everyone’s heart lift with joy.

Suddenly, the symbols on the ceiling realigned into coherent sentences, spelling out in elegant script, "I am Hogwarts, the heart and soul of magical education. To protect and guide is my eternal vow. Flitwick is my Headmaster."

The astonished murmurs of the students and adults alike grew louder as they witnessed the undeniable proof of the castle's sentience. Flitwick stood tall, his eyes gleaming with pride and reverence.

The man who had questioned the castle's consciousness looked around, his skepticism melting into awe. “I believe,” he said as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he passed out.

“I think Hogwarts has spoken,” said Headmaster Flitwick as the lights dimmed and the chandeliers went back to their normal lights. The letters disappeared and the breeze calmed down.

“Wow,” said Hermione, turning to Harry, her eyes blown wide. “I take it back. Hogwarts is sentient.”

“I told you so,” said Harry as Fawkes landed on his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

After the show of sentience, Hogwarts settled down and everyone went about their merry way. They went to bed or to their offices to have meetings or such. Amelia and Filius had such a meeting to go over what was going to happen the next day. Sirius and Andi decided to have a drink with Tonks and just have a family night. Harry wasn’t invited since he was too young to drink, so he went to bed.

Fawkes stayed with him, and they went to Harry’s room which he was afforded as the Deputy Headmaster.

Entering his quarters, Harry was greeted by the soft glow of magical orbs that illuminated the room with a warm, inviting light. The room was a blend of comfort and functionality, featuring a sturdy oak desk laden with parchments, quills, and ink pots, alongside plush chairs and a cozy bed draped in rich, deep blue fabric.

Harry set down his wand on the bedside table and glanced at Fawkes, who had perched serenely on a stand near the window. The phoenix’s golden feathers shimmered gently in the ambient light, casting a calming aura throughout the room.

“Time for bed, Fawkes,” Harry murmured, his voice quiet yet filled with affection. He knew the phoenix understood, even if their communication was more emotional than verbal. He knew the bird was depressed over the death of his last companion, and that he wanted to bond with Harry. That was all he got from Fawkes at that time.

Fawkes responded with a soft, melodious trill, conveying a sense of peace and companionship. Fawkes could feel that Harry didn’t share his feelings about Dumbledore, and while he didn’t agree, he understood. He was a pragmatic bird.

Harry changed into his nightclothes, the simple yet comfortable attire offering a reprieve from the formalities of his daytime responsibilities. He climbed into bed, pulled the covers up to his chest, and glanced once more at Fawkes, who had settled down for the night.

Together the two settled down for a good night’s sleep. They were more than willing to take on the world the next day.

Hphphp

Early the next morning, before breakfast, Harry was in his office, with the phoenix. Fawkes took himself to a stand that was off to the side. It was a golden stand that was placed there last night. It matched his feathers and was comfortable for him.

Hermione was there, looking bright-eyed and bushy tailed. She had done up her hair in a bun and put on some makeup. She was wearing a nice woman’s suit that was deep green in color, and sensible shoes. It looked like she was going all out to be the secretary.

“Good morning, Harry,” she chirped, taking a quill and posing to take notes.  She had taken many already and was in the middle of making more.

“Morning, Hermione,” Harry said, moving past her to his own desk which was located at the end of the office.

The office had changed overnight and was now spacious, with two desks strategically placed to allow for efficient workflow. Harry's desk, at the end of the room, was large and mahogany, cluttered with parchments, quills, and ink pots. It exuded an air of authority and responsibility, befitting his role as Deputy Headmaster. Across from Harry's desk, near the entrance, was Hermione's desk. It was smaller but equally functional, made of sturdy oak. It was empty at the moment, but it exuded an air of organization.

The walls were adorned with portraits of esteemed wizards, adding to the sense of history and tradition that permeated the space. There were filing cabinets that lined up the walls on one side, with bookcases on the other. The books there were the ones that Flitwick had given Harry to read up on, and many others that were needed to see that the school ran proficiently. There were scrolls aplenty, and books were scattered on every surface. Harry had been adding to the office over the last few days. He had been trying to take the job seriously.

“What are we going to do today?” Hermione asked, moving to his desk and propping her hip on the corner. There wasn’t much room there, but she managed to find a space.  She was scribbling away in her notebook on things she thought they needed to get done.

“Well, the first thing I'd like to do is get all these files separated and put into the filing cabinet,” said Harry, waving his hand to indicate the many files around the room. There were piles of them everywhere. They were as plentiful as the books.

“How many files could you possibly have? You've only been at this job for a couple of days,” said Hermione, too engrossed in her notes to see the files.

“Oh, I've been very busy,” said Harry, gently tapping her head so that she would look up, then he pointed to each large stack of files. He made sure she was seeing them this time. “We will have much to do.” He smiled at her look of awe.

“Oh my,” she said, looking up from her parchment and seeing just what she had gotten herself into. That was a lot of work. Did McGonagall let things slide her last year here?

“We've had to revamp the entire system,” said Harry as way of an explanation.  They had pulled all the files and skimmed through them and reorganized them. “Headmaster Flitwick and I have overhauled the entire curriculum. We wanted to make sure that everybody got the correct education for this type of situation. There are things that don't need to be taught anymore and things that do. We are no longer in a utopia society.” He grimaced at that explanation. He knew she wasn’t going to like that. She thought that all knowledge should always be taught, but there just wasn’t any use for some things.

“I wouldn't call the society we were in before a utopia society,” she said, wrinkling her nose. It was a long way from utopia in her opinion. She did see what they were saying though. There really wasn’t any use for Divination in today’s society, or Care of Magical Creatures.

“That's a damn sight better than what we're in now,” Harry shot back.

“There's no need to be vulgar, Harry,” she chastised. She knew he had a potty mouth, but she’d be damned if she was going to listen to it.

“I call them like I see them,” he said with a shrug.

“Still, you're the Deputy Headmaster now, you should curb your language,” she lectured. In her opinion, anyone in authority shouldn’t cuss or use vulgar language or innuendo. It just wasn’t seemly. It sets a bad example.

Harry shrugged again. He could care less what she thought, and he told her so. “I am a fifteen-year-old boy, and I'll tell you the same thing I tell everybody else, I am going to cuss.” He wasn’t going to change for anyone. He might mature and then curb his language, but probably not.

“Please refrain from doing so around me.”

“I'll see what I can do. No promises though.”

"What else do you have on the agenda?" she asked, checking her bun. Magic kept it in place; she had long ago learned to use magic to manage her hair after being teased. She didn't mind what people thought, but disliked the constant teasing. She'd miss Lavender Brown, who sadly didn't make it.

“Well, after we're done with the filing, there are some dictations that needs to be done. How good are you at shorthand?” he asked, looking at her like he didn’t think she knew any. She was a sixteen-year-old girl after all, when would she have learned any?

“Oh, Harry, that's what Dicta-quills are for,” she said as she giggled into her hands. He was so silly sometimes.

“Oh, that's right,” Harry said, slapping his hand on his forehead. He forgot that they used magic to take notes. He’d seen Flitwick do it a hundred times, so why didn’t he think he could do so?

“Sometimes it's hard to remember that we are in a society full of magic. I understand that. I'm muggleborn too, remember?” she said as she giggled again. She remembered when she forgot that she could conjure fire to defeat the trap in first year. That was years ago though, still sometimes magic was such an easy out, that it was skipped over.

“Well, I just came back from the muggle world, so I forget,” Harry said with a shrug. He didn’t use magic for many things. He was too used to using his hands to get things done.

“I understand,” she said.

“After we get the dictation done and the filing done, we should be done for the day,” he said, getting back on track. Well, she was, he still had loads of work to do.

“Don't you think we should go down to breakfast first?” she asked as her tummy grumbled. She had come here first thing.

“No, we'll eat here. We've got too much work to do,” Harry said, getting ready to call a house elf to bring them something to eat.

“If you say so,” she said with disappointment in her voice.

“Oh, did you want to eat with the rest of the students?” he asked, tilting his head in question. He thought she was as gung-ho as he was.

“I was looking forward to eating with everybody, yes,” she said, nodding her head. She had missed interacting with all the other students when she had been held in the bank. She wanted to eat with Fred and Neville. Even Luna was welcome company, flighty though she was. 

“Well, you can go down and eat with everybody, but I've got a lot of work that I have to do,” Harry said, dismissively. He knew he was being brash, but he’d been putting off this work for far too long, and it needed to be done. She had volunteered and she needed to put up or shut up.

“It's okay, Harry, I can stay here and help you,” she said, smiling at him as if she knew what he was thinking. He thought she was going to abandon him like everyone else had. She would never do that.

“Alright then, let's get cracking,” he said, giving her a smile back. He should have known better than to think that of Hermione. She would never abandon him. She had been by his side through thick and thin all these years.

With that, Harry called for breakfast, which was pancakes with syrup, and as they ate, the two of them started on the filing. They had to be careful not to get the syrup on the files, but with magic it was easy. In short order and with a lot of magic, they got it done. That done, they then started dictating the letters that Harry needed to get done, mostly to the people who were not complying with the rules. This would be their first and their last written warning. Flitwick wasn’t playing around anymore.

“Are you really sending Michael Corner a written warning?” Hermione asked, not sure how she felt about that. He was the only student getting such a warning.

“Yes, he is one of the only students that's getting one, at this time. Most of these are going to the parents and the ex-government workers,” Harry said, sighing as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Why do you think he's being so obtuse?” she asked, wondering if the boy had flipped because of the end of the world. It had done a number on her, she could see it changing Michael for the worse.

“I don't know, I think he's just being obstinate just to fuck with me. I mean, he really wants to see me be brought down,” Harry said with bitterness and a snicker. He wasn’t as upset with it as he could be. He’d put up with worse with just his family. Corner was a mild annoyance compared to them.

“Language, Harry. And I don't think it has anything to do with you,” Hermione said, brushing that thought away. Harry was always putting the burden on himself. He would blame the fact that there was no air in space on himself if he could.

“We're just going to have to disagree with that,” Harry said, a bit sharply. She disagreed too quickly for his taste. “You didn't hear him when you were gone. He is my new Draco Malfoy,” he said with a grin. He missed Ole Draco, he had no one to test his wits on. Michael wasn’t nearly as competitive as Draco had been. Oh, he tried, but he was lacking. He didn’t have that certain flare that Draco had.

Hermione had a sad look on her face, that she never thought she would have gotten there over that teenager. She thought that Malfoy was a loathsome cockroach, but to hear of his death saddened her. “I was sad to hear about Draco. I may not have liked the boy, but I didn't want to hear about his death,” she admitted out loud.  

“Yes, I'll miss Malfoy too,” he agreed.

“So Corner is your new Malfoy, huh?” she asked, not seeing the comparison.

“Yes, he's taken to confronting me at every possible moment,” he said with a shrug. “He’s not near as good as Draco, but he tries,” he added.

“I wonder what brought this on. He used to be such a nice boy,” she said, tapping her chin in thought. She knew Corner from before and while he had been a bit of a stuck-up git, he wasn’t an arsehole.

Harry shrugged again and said, “I don't know, but he blames me for the death of his family. Though, how I had anything to do with the virus, I have no clue,” he said, shaking his head sadly.

“Sometimes that's part of being a hero. They seem to think that you should be able to save everybody,” Hermione said, though she didn’t believe that for one moment, she knew others did.

“Well, I'm not going to take his shite,” Harry said, slashing his hand in the air. “I'm not responsible for the death of anybody.” He got up and started pacing the room, which caused Fawkes to trill at him. He was sick and tired of people wanting things from him that he couldn’t or wouldn’t give. He gave the bird a look that said he was thankful for the effort.

“Language, Harry,” Hermione said, once more chastising him.  “And no, you're not responsible for the death of anybody that was caused by this virus.”

“Thank you, Hermione.” Harry gave her a grateful nod, then turned to gather the scattered parchment from the table. He stacked them into a pile and put them to the side of his desk.

“Well, I'll see that these letters are sent off by owl. Are we done here? It's almost time for lunch,” she asked, her tummy grumbling, breakfast having been done ages ago. She was more than willing to get to the Great Hall and enjoy the company of the other students.

“Yeah, we're done,” the Deputy Headmaster said, waving her away.

And with that, the two of them set off in separate ways. Hermione hurried toward the owlery, clutching the stack of letters to her chest, her footsteps echoing through the corridor as she navigated the staircases. Meanwhile, Harry, with Fawkes gliding silently above his shoulder, made his way to Flitwick's office to deliver his report for the day. They would meet up in the Great Hall for lunch and share their time with their friends. It had been a productive morning, so they felt energized and there was a spring in their steps as they went about their business.

Hphphp

The Great Hall was bustling with activity. The light streamed in from the enchanted ceiling, causing everybody to be alive with untold energy. It was a contrast to the depressing days that they had previously. Everybody chattered excitedly over the upcoming self-defense classes they were having that day. They would be happening here in this hall after lunch. The two teachers were more than excited to be teaching as they were getting bored doing nothing. Many of the adults were just as thrilled to be participating, though there were some who were not as enthused.

“Why do I have to take these stupid classes?” grumbled one of the ex-government employees.

“In case we're attacked,” said Amelia, rolling her eyes.

“Who said we're going to be attacked?”  inquired the same ex-employee.

“I've been over this again and again and I am tired of going over it with you. You're either going to take this class or you're going to leave. Quit grumbling,” said Amelia, slamming her hand on the table. She was so done with these men and women who just couldn’t get it through their head that they were not in charge anymore.

“I didn't say I wouldn't take the stupid class, I said I don't want to,” the rotund man said under his breath.

“I could care less what you don't want to do. It's a matter of what you're going to do,” Bones stated, having heard him. He wasn’t as quiet as he thought he was.

Just then, Flitwick tapped his glass with his fork and got everybody's attention. “All right everybody, I'm glad you enjoyed your meal, but it is now time for self-defense classes. If everybody would stand up from their seats, we will clear the hall.”

Everybody stood up from their seats and moved off to the side of the Great Hall. It wasn't that much of a commotion because there were only around 650 people in the entire hall. This was sad sight to see because the Great Hall could host up to 10,000. As they stood by the walls, Flitwick waved his wand and the four tables were moved off to the side, leaving a great space in the middle of the Great Hall. It was large enough to hold the class, and then some.

“Now then, we will sort this by age, youngest to the right, oldest to the left. Hurry now,” Flitwick said in his squeaky voice.

Everybody scrambled to get into their age category. There was some shoving and pushing and there were some people who didn't want to tell their age, but they really couldn't lie about it either. The oldest going to the left, some being as old as 150 years old.

“Now then, we're going to start with muggle self-defense for the first two hours, and Mr. Anderson is going to teach you,” said Filius, gesturing to the man who stood next to him, who is built like a brickhouse. He looked like a toddler next to the man, that’s how large he was.

Mr. Anderson stepped forward, his imposing figure capturing the room's attention. He was a muscle-bound man with a towering physique, his broad shoulders and bulging biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt. His sandy hair was short and neat, giving him a disciplined and no-nonsense appearance. His chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes exuded authority and confidence, making it clear that he was not one to be trifled with.

“I am Jeffrey Anderson,” the man said, bowing a bit, “and I am going to teach you how to defend yourself or run and hide if you can't.” He started pacing in front of everyone like a drill sergeant.  “We're going to start with the youngest and oldest, and then I will teach those in the middle. I will teach the youngest and the oldest how to hide, and then I will teach those in the middle how to fight. While I’m teaching them to hide, you will be warming up. Mr. Plagers will be supervising,” he finished, glaring at those that started to complain.

“What if I don't want to know how to fight?” asked somebody in the middle. It was a muggle man whose children had died in the school from the virus. He had been brought here as a survivor. He just wanted to live his life and not fight the wizards’ war.

“Then you'll probably die,” said Sirius. He didn’t care if the man was a muggle. If he stayed here, he’d need to fight. Being a muggle didn’t exclude him from defending the castle.

“What do you know, Black?” said a wizard from the back.

“I know you're not taking this seriously, and I know that there are a lot of bad wizards out there who want to take over this stronghold, and I know that you're an idiot,” Sirius said seriously. He looked at the wizard like he was a fool for asking him that question.

“You can't talk to me that way, Black,” the man said with disdain.

“I can talk to you however I want to. I'm up here, you're down there. That means I have some power, and you don't,” Sirius taunted, like he was a teenager.

“Sirius,” said Harry, rolling his eyes at his godfather.  

“Fine, just try and learn what you can and don't make fools of yourselves,” Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively at those who were grumbling. He was getting to the point where he was with Darwin. Let the weaker ones die out. To hell with the survival of the human race.

“You must learn how to fight because we feel that we are in danger from the Death Eaters and the goblins,” said Flitwick with the patience of a saint.

“How do you know we're in danger from the Death Eaters and the goblins?” came a voice from the back.

“I'm getting tired of these questions,” said Amelia, who had no patience at all. “We've already answered them and we're not going to answer them anymore. Just take the damn classes.” She slashed her hand in the air, causing a flash of light to admit.

“Now then,” said Mr. Anderson, getting everyone’s attention, “everybody under the age of 14 and over the age of 60 over here. The rest of you do some warmups.” He pointed to a spot to the far right of the Great Hall, and then to the more open area. He wanted to use the shady side of the hall for the hiding.

“What kind of warmups?” came the question from a Ravenclaw.

“Basic calisthenics. Do you know what those are?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

“I do,” said Hermione.

“Good, you can show them and all the rest of you muggleborn and the knowledgeable half-bloods showed the purebloods what they are,” he said with great relief. He forgot there would be muggleborn among the crowd. His own child had died at home due to the virus.

“Okay,” came a chorus of voices.

With that, Anderson took those under the age of 14 and over the age of 60 over to the side of the Great Hall and he showed them the best way to run and hide or to take a fall. He had Flitwick set up an obstacle course that had many hidey holes in it. He showed them how to sneak around so that they would not be caught.

It was a work in progress. Many of them were bad at it. Wizards were not known for their common sense. That and they had to take off the robes. Robes were known to get caught on many things, so they were in their street clothes, which many of them protested to. It was surprising how many didn’t wear anything under their robes, and they had to transfigure their robes into trousers and shirts.

“Well, this is an unmitigated disaster,” said Mr. Anderson as he watched a 134-year-old wizard get stuck in a barrel that he was supposed to be hiding in. Not that the wizard was nimble, but he had magic on his side, so he could have used it to help him.

“They'll get better with time,” said Flitwick, giggling and patting the poor man on one of his overly muscled arms. He had to reach high to get there, but he did it.

“I certainly hope so or they're going to be dead,” said the muggle teacher as he watched one of the kids help the old wizard out of the barrel and the two run and hid in the building behind them. At least that was something.

“I wouldn't worry about it overly much, I think they're going to be just fine,” said the over enthusiastic Headmaster as he giggled more at the antics of the young and old going through the very easy obstacle course. It was so simple that one could walk through it and not get hit or winded. But this lot, was having issues.  They were running all over the place and hiding in all the wrong places. There were some muggles and muggleborn among them, that were doing well, but for the most part, they were fairing poorly. It was hilarious.

“Headmaster,” Harry chastised, trying to hold back his own laughter. It was his job to rein in the Headmaster if he got out of line. Not that he thought Flitwick was out of line, but he was toeing it.

“Yes, yes,” Filius said, waving his hand and turning away. He went to where the others were warming up. They were doing star jumps and push-ups. They would be quite limber when Anderson was ready for them. At least they had stopped complaining. He was sure that it would not last.

“We’d better put more meat and carbs on the dinner table tonight,” Harry said, looking at all those exercising.

“Oh?” Filius asked, not sure why that was.

“They’ll need the calories,” Harry said, nodding his head to the group doing the star jumps.

“I’ll take your word for it,” the diminutive man said, with a smile. He was just glad they were cooperating.

Suddenly the enchanted ceiling darkened, and a gong sounded. The chandeliers dimmed and the Great Hall doors slammed shut. The walls glowed and dimmed with a golden light, like an alarm going off. Hogwarts was under attack. 

Chapter Text

“Fawkes!” Harry called, holding out his hand. He grabbed ahold of Flitwick’s hand and then when the phoenix landed on his shoulder, he said, “To the Astrology Tower.”

Fawkes flamed them to the tower and the two of them landed and looked towards the front of the school. There was a group of werewolves howling and banging on the gates.

Flitwick's eyes widened with alarm as he surveyed the scene. "Dammit, I was hoping for more time,” he said, looking at the werewolves attempting to take the wards down by sheer will alone.

“Me too,” Harry said, staring down at the half-crazed animals. He felt sorry for them. They didn’t know what they were doing. Fawkes let out a soothing trill, his feathers glowing in the dim light. Below them, the werewolves' howls grew louder, echoing through the night like a sinister symphony. “It’s a good thing we have the war wards up,” he said, looking at the wards burn the werewolves as the threw themselves at them.

They would throw themselves at them and howl when they were burned and then back off. Then do it again. It was as if they had lost all reasoning. They were terrifying in their half-wolf forms. Their elongated snouts and large teeth would keep just about anyone away from them. Their broad hairy shoulders, which were sans shirt, showed just how strong they were. The rest of them were human. It was as if they were stuck mid-transformation.

“Why do you think they are here?” Flitwick asked, narrowing his eyes at the wolves. They didn’t seem to want the castle for its fortification. He knew many things, he was a very smart man, but the inner thinking of a werewolf was not one of them.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, just as much at a loss as the Headmaster.

They heard a noise on the staircase and whirled around. “We’re prey,” said Bill, coming up from behind them. “They want to kill us, plain and simple.”

“Shite,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Do you think the wards will hold?” he asked the curse-breaker.

“I haven’t had a look at them, but they should hold for now. If they bombard them long enough, they will fall. But we’re talking about weeks of them doing what they are doing, if not months. Still, I’d like to add to them,” Bill said, looking at the werewolves with pity. He knew most of them didn’t ask for the life they were leading now. He knew they wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted, which was what was inside the castle.

“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Filius said, turning and leading the way to the Ward Room. Harry following behind.

The Ward Room was a secretive and arcane chamber hidden deep within the bowels of Hogwarts, accessible only to those with the knowledge and permission of the Headmaster. As they descended the spiraling staircase, the walls began to hum softly with ancient magic, the air growing cooler and more charged with energy.

When they reached the bottom, Harry found himself facing a heavy wooden door adorned with intricate runes and symbols. Flitwick waved his wand with practiced ease, and the door creaked open, revealing the Ward Room. It was a circular room, its walls lined with countless glowing crystals and enchanted objects. In the center stood a large, stone pedestal that held the heart of the castle's protective wards, a pulsating orb of light that shifted in color and intensity.

Bill moved forward, his eyes scanning the intricate network of magical threads that connected the wards. He took out his wand and began to mutter incantations, his movements precise and deliberate. With each flick and swish, he added new layers of protection, strengthening the existing wards and weaving in new spells to counter the relentless assault of the werewolves.

Harry watched in awe as the light from the orb grew brighter and more stable, the hum of magic reaching a crescendo.

Bill's face was a mask of concentration, his brow furrowed as he worked. Finally, he stepped back, a satisfied look on his face. "There," he said, turning to Harry and Flitwick, "the wards are reinforced. They should hold out longer against the werewolves' attacks. It’s a good thing they are thinking like animals and not like wizards. If they were using spells, we would be in a bit more trouble. The wards would hold, but for a shorter amount of time,” he explained.

Flitwick nodded appreciatively, his eyes twinkling. "Excellent work, Bill. Let's hope this buys us enough time to find a more permanent solution."

Harry felt a surge of gratitude and relief. They were safe, for now, but he knew the battle was far from over. As they stood there and contemplated their fate, the echoes of the werewolves' howls reminded him of the danger still lurking outside the castle walls. There were more than werewolves to worry about, though they were the immediate danger.

“Let’s get back to the rest of the castle and let them know that they are safe for now. They should know that those self-defense classes are important now,” Filius stated, turning and leaving the Ward Room.

“Why did we have to do them outside last time?” Harry asked, looking at the Headmaster with confusion.

“We needed to be close to the ley lines,” the diminutive man said, explaining it in a manner he would to anyone. “This was done by a professional, he didn’t need the ley lines to get it done.” He led the way up the stairs. Their shoes echoed off the walls as they continued on.

“I see,” said Harry, though he really didn’t understand all that well at all. He got that Bill was a pro, and he and the others were amateurs, but what did the ley lines have to do with it?

“Nevertheless, it is done. The castle is very well protected, and we must get back to the rest. Everyone must be taught self-defense. I am sure this will not be the last attack on Hogwarts,” Flitwick stated, hurrying his steps up the stairs. They were almost at the top and he wanted to get to the others.

“Are we going to leave the enemy at the gates?” Bill asked as they crested the stairs to the Entrance Hall.

“What do you mean?” Filius asked, not sure where he was going with his question.  He stopped short and they stood there for a moment to have the discussion.

“We should kill them while they are there,” the other man stated, firm in his resolve.

“What?” Harry said, shocked that he so blithely said that.

"Yes, they're feral and need to be put down. They're killing machines now, hunting for sport, not survival," Bill stated, noticing their disapproval.

“But they can’t harm us now,” Harry protested, not wanting to hurt these werewolves. They could just cast spells at them from the safety of the wards and drive the werewolves away. It would be like fishing from a barrel, so it would not be sporting to kill them.

Bill stood his ground, and his frown deepened. “They are worse than rabid dogs. They will hunt down any survivors and kill them. They won’t turn them; they will kill them. Do you understand what I am telling you?” he asked, trying to get his point across.

“We will take it up with the others,” Flitwick said, thinking that Sirius, Amelia, Andi and Tonks should have a say in it.

“You are the Headmaster, I think it should be your call,” Bill insisted. He didn’t understand why there should be a debate at all. It should just be a done deal. They were feral, kill them and be done with it.

“And I am making that call, but asking other opinions,” Filius stated, turning and going into the Great Hall. He opened the door to see that Pomona, Sirius, Amelia and Andi had it all under control. They had gotten everyone back into their class formation.  Everyone was doing their self-defense moves in synchronization. It was a sight to see for people who were fighting it so fiercely earlier. 

Mr. Anderson was still teaching, but he was teaching those that were in the middle range how to fight. The old and the very young were still trying to run and hide, but they were under Mr. Plager’s preview now.  They were still using the obstacle course and doing a bit better than they had been earlier. The scare of the attack must have put the fear of Merlin in them.

“Very good, everyone. I am happy to see everyone cooperating,” Flitwick stated, going to the front of the Hall. He stood on his chair to be seen. “I wanted to let you know that while the danger has not passed, it is contained. The wards will hold,” he told them, holding up his hands to be heard. A cheer went up as everyone expressed their happiness that they were not in complete danger. “Now it is time for everyone who can to receive magic lessons. Those that cannot, will continue to receive muggle lessons,” he stated, nodding to Plager.

Jack Plager, a blond man who was thin yet deceptively strong, stood off to the side, observing the crowd with a keen eye. His presence was unmistakable; there was an aura of quiet power and unspoken magic about him. Though he did not often speak, his actions spoke volumes. He nodded in acknowledgment to Flitwick, ready to take charge of those who needed further guidance in their magical lessons.

“I am Jack Plager, everyone who is magical, young and old, come to the right side,” was all he said. He marched to the right side of the Great Hall and stood there and waited for his orders to be obeyed.

Everyone shuffled about and separated to their assigned place. Muggles to the left, magicals to the right. There were more magicals than muggles, so that left Mr. Anderson little space to work with.

Mr. Plagers shifted his students about by age, much like Anderson had, and started them off on shield spells. He drilled them until they could do it with just a flick of their wrist. If they didn’t know it, he taught them. If they did, he taught them better. Many of them complained that he was a harsh task master, but he was relentless. They were at war, sort of, and he wasn’t going to let them forget it.

Hphphp

Meanwhile, the main group was meeting about the werewolves. They were in the antechamber sitting around a table there. Filius, Bill, Fleur, Fred, Percy, Amelia, Andi, Sirius, Harry and Hermione were all there. Pomona, Clare and Pete were watching the rest of the school train. They would let them know about the results later.

“I don't think we should leave the werewolves at the gate,” said Bill, his face and tone were firm. He was glaring at everyone to show that he meant business. “I think we should kill them and be done with it. Never leave an enemy at your back,” he stated. That was a bit hypocritical of him, since he said to leave the goblins alone, but he truly didn’t think the goblins posed a danger.

“I agree with him,” said Tonks. She folded her arms over her chest and stared down everyone as well.

“But we can't just kill these people in cold blood,” said Harry, he was still shocked that they were debating this. While he wasn’t above killing to save a life, this was in cold blood.

“Et es ze way of ze world,” said Fleur with a casual shrug. She seemed to be saying this a lot, but it was her point of view now. She wasn’t trying to come off as a snob, but she was pragmatic. They were not worthy of being saved, she agreed with her boyfriend. They were no longer human; they were savage animals that were going to kill many others if they were not stopped.

“It can't be that simple,” said Hermione. It couldn’t be in her eyes. There had to be something they could do for these poor people.

“But it really is,” said Bill, his eyes softening at the girl’s dilemma. “I know you have a soft spot for the underdog, but this is not one of those things that can be won with picket signs and petitions. Only deadly spells can put an end to it,” he told her.

“This is a kill or be killed world,” said Sirius in agreement, barking a manic laugh. “My best friend is out there, and I know he wants me to kill him. He would rather be dead than be like he is right now.” There was bitterness in his tone and his laugh. He didn’t want to kill his mate, but he would because he knew it was what Remus wanted.

“I agree,” said Tonks with tears in her eyes.

“That man killed my husband,” said Andi, closing her eyes against the pain, “but I don't think I agree. We are talking about taking a human life.” She was a dark witch, to be sure, but she had turned her back on those arts when she married a muggleborn.

“These are not humans, they're werewolves. They're feral werewolves that are nothing but killing machines,” said Bill, thumping his fist on the table. He would make his point if he had to start shouting to be heard.

Harry clenched his fists, knuckles whitening as he spoke. “But they are humans,” he insisted, voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. He took a step forward, looking each person in the eye as if daring them to contradict him. He only knew what he’d been taught in his third year, and that was by Snape. While he trusted the book he had learned from, he didn’t trust Snape.

Bill slammed his fist on the table, his jaw tight with frustration. “They are not humans,” he declared, his voice rising and eyes flashing as he glared around the room, daring anyone to challenge him.

Flitwick rose from his chair, standing on it to be seen. He adjusted his robes, his expression shifting from mild concern to a determined resolve. “This is the debate that's been going on since the beginning of time, whether a werewolf is a human or not,” he said, his voice steady and clear as he leaned forward, hands planted firmly on the table to command their attention.

“What is at your gate right now is not a human,” Bill said, cutting him off. “What they were before the virus was up for debate. Now that the virus has taken over, they're nothing but feral dogs in human form. I'm telling you right now, they must be put down. Are you going to have on your conscience every life that they take if you let them go?” he asked, staring down his nose at Harry like he was the one putting the lives of every human on earth at risk.

Harry's knuckles unclenched, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That's not fair, Bill,” he said in a small voice.

Bill leaned forward, his knuckles pressing into the table as he stared Harry down. “Life is not fair,” he said without an ounce of pity.

"Look, Harry," said Sirius, turning towards him, "I know Remus, and he did not want to live as a werewolf, particularly one that might harm others. He has already killed someone and would not want to do so again. He would have wanted me to end his suffering. The other werewolves might have different views on their condition, but I am going to take responsibility for my friend." He spoke calmly and clearly, wanting Harry to understand the necessity of the situation.

“I get that, I really do, Sirius, but we're talking about taking a life,” Harry said, though he was leaning towards their way of thinking.

“It's just something you're going to have to get used to. This is a kill or be killed world,” Sirius reiterated, folding his arms and fixing Harry with a steady, unwavering gaze.

“I don't know if I can live like that,” the teenager said, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“It's the only way you're going to survive,” Sirius said, tilting his head a bit as if to say that it was a given.

“But we've got this castle and it's fortified,” Harry pointed out.

As Sirius started speaking, he reached across the table and placed a steadying hand on Harry’s shoulder, his grip firm yet reassuring. “And every Tom, Dick and Harry out there is going to want to take it from us. Are you going to fight to keep it? You've been telling people here that they're going to have to fight to keep this castle. That means you're going to have to kill,” his godfather pointed out.

Harry stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. “I'm more than willing to fight to keep this castle, and I will kill to do it. However, you are talking about cold blooded murder,” he stated once again, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

“Kill or be killed world. I don't know how many times I'm going to have to repeat this. But I will until it gets into your head,” Sirius said, trying not to sound cold, but realistic.

“That's not fair, Sirius,” said Hermione, trying to be firm, but there was trembling in her tone.

“The same goes for you, missy,” Sirius said, pointing a finger at her. “You're not exempt from this either. Just because you're a female does not mean you're not going to have to fight for your life.”

Harry stepped between Sirius and Hermione, his eyes flashing. “Here now, don't speak to her like that,” he said, making everyone look at him.

“What you kids don't seem to understand that this is now a rough and tumble world,” Bill said, looking at the two teenagers with some pity. “Nobody's going to stick up for you, nobody's going to defend you. It's all on you.”

“That's not exactly true, Bill. Don't be so rough,” said Amelia, chastising the two men for speaking so plainly to the two youngsters. “You too, Sirius. They are just kids. They have some time. They will do the classes and get there, but they do have a bit of time,” she said.

“You haven't chimed in on this statement yet. What do you think, Amelia? Should we go and kill the werewolves?” asked Bill, looking at her askingly.

“As an Auror, I feel that we should not kill them,” she said, tapping her finger on the table and thinking hard. “However, in this society we live in right now and knowing that they are feral, I think that they should be put down like the feral dogs that they are.”  She didn’t want to be responsible for any of the lives those animals took when, or if, they left Hogwarts.

“Majority rules, we put them down,” Bill said, slamming his hand on the table in victory.

“Hey, you didn't ask my opinion,” said Fred in mock indignation.

“What's your opinion, brother of mine?” Bill said, bowing his head to him.

Fred shrugged, glancing around at the others with a resigned look. “I agree with you,” he said at last, folding his arms across his chest. “I think we should put them down.”

“And you, Percy?”

“I'm with you, Bill.”

Bill leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the tabletop, his gaze sweeping over the gathered group. “Like I said, majority rules. Only Harry, Andi and Hermione think that we should do this humanely,” he declared, giving the three a piteous look before folding his arms resolutely.

“Isn't there a way we can still do it humanely and put them down at the same time? Like, can't we put them to sleep? Like they do in animal shelters,” Hermione asked, there were tears in her eyes. She knew it was going to happen, but she didn’t want it to be something gory.

“The Killing Curse is a lot like that. It's a quick and easy way to put somebody to death,” Amelia said, trying to ease her worries. “Besides, it’s the only thing that will go through the war wards,” she added.

“Who among us can cast the Killing Curse?” Flitwick asked, looking around the table.

“I can,” said Bill, looking at his girlfriend.

“And me,” said Fleur, nodding in agreement.

“I can,” said Amelia, raising her hand.

“I am able to,” said Flitwick, squeaking out his answer.

“Count me in,” said Sirius, reluctantly.

“Me too,” said Andi in a small voice.

“Not me,” said Fred, sounding disappointed.

“I think that's all of us,” said Harry, looking at all the blank faces.

Bill ran a hand through his hair, the weight of what lay ahead evident in his posture. “I think that's all we'll need,” he said sadly, his gaze dropping to the table. He didn’t take joy in putting down the werewolves. It needed to be done, but there was no pleasure in it.

“So, we do this from safely behind the wards? Or do we go out and face them like men? Sorry, women too,” asked Sirius, looking at the females in the group.

“I think the most humane way to do it is from behind the wards,” said Bill. He would prefer to do it safely. He didn’t want to put anyone in danger. He’d been saying it from the beginning, they were feral, they would be fighting like animals. There would be no fair fight.

“Well, I know I don't want to get bit, so I'm doing it behind the wards whether you guys say anything or not,” said Sirius. He might be an immature fool, but he wasn’t that big of one.

“The wards are not coming down anyway, so that was a moot question. Do we ask for volunteers among the rest of the adults?” asked Flitwick, wondering if they should get Pomona or the other Heads.

“No, I think we should keep this among ourselves. The rest of the adults aren't ready to face werewolves,” said Bill. He’d rather keep it small and sweet. Let the rest of them practice their self-defense.

“That's probably a good idea,” said Sirius, having seen what they were up against. The rest of the adults were out of practice, having been teachers, students, housewives, government officials, and businessmen for years. The war in the seventies was long ago and many of those that fought in it were now dead.

“I do not think this is a good idea,” said Harry, shaking his head. “But I will follow the majority's decision.” He was willing to move forward with this and understood the need to adapt in certain situations. The werewolves posed a potential threat and danger to those outside the wards at present.

“You will learn,” said Sirius, nodding sagely. “You will learn.”

“I think you should come with us,” said Bill, looking at the youngest of their group. “So that you can see that these are not human beings that we are putting down.”

“I think that's an excellent idea,” said Flitwick, clapping his hands together once.

“Do I have to?” whinged Harry. He did and didn’t want to. Call it morbid curiosity.

“I think you really should,” said Flitwick, posing it as a learning opportunity.

“All right,” said Harry, reluctantly.

“Does this mean I have to go too?”  asked Hermione. She on the other hand didn’t want to go at all. She didn’t want to see the slaughter.

“I think it's a good idea that we all go down, even those of us who are not casting the Killing Curse,” Amelia said, getting up and preparing herself to cast said curse. To cast it, you had to feel the hate inside you. To call up the dark side that most repressed.

“Should we do it now?” Sirius asked, getting up as well. His dark side was never far from him. It would be easy enough to call up.

“Now is as good a time as any,” said Bill, gathering his girlfriend and heading towards the door.

So, they all got up from the table and trooped down to the front of the school, wands drawn and faces set with grim determination. The night air crackled with tension as they approached the shimmering boundary of the wards.

Just beyond, the werewolves hurled themselves again and again against the invisible barrier, the impact sending ripples of magic sparking through the darkness. Every time a beast rebounded, it snarled and paced, looking for a weakness.

The group fanned out, adults in front, Harry and Hermione staying close behind, their eyes wide.

A sudden, guttural howl split the air, and several werewolves turned their attention to the new arrivals, baring their teeth and scratching at the wards with frantic desperation. The scene was chaotic, lit only by the glow of defensive spells and the pale moon above, as the defenders braced themselves for what was to come.

“Quickly now, let's put them out of their misery,” said Flitwick as he lifted his wand.

As one, the five spellcasters who could wield the Killing Curse raised their wands in unison, emerald light gleaming at their tips. With swift, practiced motions, they unleashed a volley of curses that streaked through the night air in arcs. The spells burst down on the mindless beasts that hurled themselves at the shimmering wards of Hogwarts.

The air rang with the echoes of curses, snarls, and the sharp, sickening thuds of collapsing bodies. The werewolves leapt harder at the magical barrier, claws extended, only to be struck mid-air and fall lifeless among their fallen.

The defenders kept their formation tight, advancing a step as each wave of beasts collapsed. They made sure to continue their volley and not stop. They didn’t want to miss any of the mindless beasts.

Gradually, the cacophony dwindled. Even as death swept through their ranks, the remaining creatures had not paused; they had only flung themselves harder at the wards, compelled by a desperate, unreasoning rage. Soon enough, the howls faded, and twenty werewolves now lay motionless before the school, their bodies silhouetted by moonlight and the dying flicker of defensive spells.

Bill tightened his grip on his wand and took a cautious step closer to the wards, eyes fixed on the carnage beyond. “Did you see how much more feral they got when they saw us?” he asked the two youngest.

Harry, who was very shaken, said, “It looked like they were trying to tear themselves up trying to get to us.” He looked at the dead bodies and could only see the humans they used to be.  He was saddened at the loss of life.

“That's what a feral werewolf looks like,” said Bill, his tone ladened with pity.

“I don't think I ever want to face anything like that ever again,” said Hermione, who was just as shaken as Harry. They had stayed way back from the adults, but they saw enough to be afraid.

“What do we do with the bodies?” asked Andi as she wiped tears from her eyes.

Moving towards the gates, Tonks said, “I know what I want to do with one of them.” However, they wouldn’t open for her.

“Sadly, we cannot leave the wards,” said Flitwick, shaking his head at her.

Tonks got mad and started rattling the gates and then she kicked them. “You mean we have to leave the bodies out there?” she asked.

“Unfortunately,” said Flitwick, nodding his head.

That did not please her, she twirled on him and demanded, “What will happen to them?”

“Wild animals, more than likely,” said Bill in a low tone. He didn’t like it. They deserved more than that. They had been human once, for all he was for putting them out of their misery, he didn’t want to leave them to the scavengers.

“I don't want Remus to be eaten by a wild animal,” said Sirius, who was letting his tears flow freely down his face.

“We cannot leave the wards,” said Flitwick one more time. He felt bad for them, he really did, but he would not break the wards for one dead man.

“And we can't bring them in?” asked Harry. He was having a hard time seeing his godfather cry.

“No, we cannot bring them in,” was the answer.

“This is very sad,” said Hermione, brushing away her own tears.

“Yes, it's very sad indeed,” said Harry.

“I’m very sorry, but there is nothing I can do. The only curses that can go through the wards are the Unforgivables. I would put them to rest, but…” the Headmaster said, hanging his head slightly to show he was indeed mournful, but not enough to lower the wards.

“It can’t be helped,” Sirius said, stiffening his upper lip. “We’ll just have to accept it,” he said, putting his arm around Tonks and guiding her away.

“Let this be a sign that Hogwarts will stand up for herself,” said Flitwick, sadly looking at the pile of bodies at her gates. “A sad sign indeed.”

Chapter Text

Suddenly Tonks broke off and twirled around, facing Flitwick. “Wait, what about the house elves?” she asked, remembering that they could get through the wards. That’s how they got to the gates every time they wanted to leave the castle. They could be used for this.

“Yes,” Flitwick said, snapping his fingers and calling one of the beings. He would use them to bury the werewolves. They wouldn’t mind. If they did, he could have them move their bodies to the forest at the very least. They would be off the road and not on display, and that would appease everyone.

“What can Tibby be doing for you today?” the elf asked as he appeared. He was happy to be called by the Headmaster. He seemed to not call upon the elves very often anymore. It was as if he didn’t want to burden them. He knew that their numbers had been reduced by the virus, but the house elves still lived to serve.

“Tibby, those werewolves need to be buried,” the headmaster stated, pointing to the bodies. “The graveyard in Hogsmeade will do fine,” he stated. They will not be buried on the grounds of the school. Not even the Headmasters of Hogwarts were given that honor.

Tibby looked at the pile of bodies at the gate and tears fell from his eyes. It was with sadness that he nodded his head and said, “Tibby can bes doing this.” He snapped his fingers and popped away to get the other elves. They would take care of the wolves. He didn’t know what happened here, but he knew that werewolves were just wizards, and they were to be honored.

“Will that do?” Filius asked the two mourning people. He hoped it would be enough because there was little else he could do. He wished he could do more, like hold a funeral, which he supposed he could, but if he did that… Well, he’d ask. “Do you wish a funeral?”

“Yeah, it will do. We will go and say a few words on our own,” Sirius said, knowing it was better than Remus rotting on the ground. Tonks only nodded. The two of them proceeded to the castle feeling better than they had seconds before.

“I suppose I could have asked Fawkes to have taken us. I’m just not used to having him around,” Harry said as they stood there watching Sirius and Tonks disappear.

“You will get used to him in time,” Flitwick stated, patting him on the arm, looking for the bird, who was not around.

“He’s not here. He didn’t want to watch such a mindless slaughter of another species,” Harry stated, still mournful that the werewolves had to be put down.

“I understand, but Harry, Bill was right,” Filius stated, nodding to the curse-breaker who was off to the side talking to his girlfriend and family.

“I know, I just don’t have to like it,” Harry said, putting his arm around the still distraught Hermione.

“Come let’s go to the castle,” Flitwick said, moving to do just that.

Harry paused at the foot of the steps, glancing back toward the grounds as he spoke. “How are we going to get people to work on the farms, if they can’t get out of the wards?” he asked the Headmaster, concern furrowing his brow. He shifted his weight uneasily, hands fidgeting with the edge of his robe.

“Portkeys,” was the answer.

Harry frowned, kicking at a loose stone as frustration bubbled up. “You couldn’t have just given them a portkey to Remus?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the ground, not understanding why a simple solution couldn’t be offered.

“Portkeys are for long distant travel, not for in-sight travel, if you try that, then you could overload the magic,” the Headmaster explained, trying to calm the young man down. “I will give them one to say words at his grave,” he stated, knowing that that would help ease the boy’s mind.

“I want to go,” Harry said, though he really didn’t know Remus well, he wanted to be there for Sirius.

“I do too,” Hermione stated, though she too hadn’t known Mr. Lupin well, he had been one of her favorite teachers. She squeezed Harry’s hand gently, offering a quiet show of support as they made their way toward the castle steps.

“You will have to take that up with Mr. Black,” Flitwick stated, with a decisive nod.

Now that they had that established, they went to the castle. The classes were over and everyone was talking. The event of the night was exciting and there were very few naysayers now over the self-defense classes. Everyone could see how important they were.

“Now that the threat is over and classes are done, we are going to assign you your tasks,” Flitwick stated, waving his wand and putting up a large board. On it, names started to form and next to them words like farmer, kitchen, laundry, cleaner of castle, fetcher of survivors, governor, student and teacher, or sorter of food started to appear next to them.

There were some outcries from some people, but most were simply resigned.

Some groaned upon seeing their assignments, particularly those who were tasked with more laborious chores such as farm work or kitchen duty. Disappointment was evident on a few faces, with mutterings of how they had hoped for positions within the castle or in teaching roles. A handful of students openly protested, their voices rising in frustration as they pleaded for reassignment or questioned the fairness of the distribution.

Flitwick, maintaining his composure, patiently explained the necessity of each task and assured them that their contributions were vital to the community's survival. Despite the initial discontent, the room gradually quieted as the reality of their circumstances set in, and the majority of individuals began to accept their roles with a sense of reluctant determination.

Flitwick, sensing the need for further clarification, stood on his chair before the assembled group and raised his hand for silence. "I understand that many of you are unhappy with your assignments," he began, his voice steady and reassuring. "However, each of these tasks has been carefully chosen to ensure the well-being and sustainability of our community. The farm work is crucial for providing food, the kitchen duties maintain nourishment, and the governmental roles aid in organizing our efforts and addressing any issues that arise."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Every single one of you plays a vital role in this endeavor. Without the farmers, we would not have the provisions needed to survive; without the cooks, our meals would lack the care and quality required for our health. Those assigned to the castle will ensure that our living spaces are maintained and secure, while the teachers among you will impart knowledge to the younger members, preparing them for the challenges ahead."

“What about the house elves?” came a voice of discontent.

“They are fewer in number and require help in their tasks, hence these assignments,” Filius explained.

“I see,” the man said, not seeing at all. All his life a house elf had done the work of five people. Surely one could maintain most of the work of the castle. There was no need for them to work. They were just doing this to keep them busy. He was sure of it. He would keep his piece for now.

Seeing a few nods and murmurs of agreement, Flitwick continued with greater conviction. "I promise you; these assignments are not arbitrary. They are based on careful consideration of our needs and your individual skills and strengths. I ask you to embrace your roles with the understanding that you are contributing to something far greater than any one of us. Together, we will rebuild and thrive." With that, he stepped back and allowed the students and community members to absorb the gravity of their situation.

“We’ll do it, but I protest,” one of the ex-governors stated. He had been one of the ones who had been bitching from the beginning. He had been assigned to the farms, and not a government position.

“Complain all you wish,” Amelia said, tired of the old man’s bitching, “as long as you do the work.”

There was much grumbling, but they could see that it would get them nowhere. The crowd dispersed and everyone was soon going to bed, tired and sore from their exercise. They will be doing the same thing tomorrow, with the addition of their new assignment. They hopefully would be grateful for the fact that they had a roof over their head and food in their bellies.

Hphphp

The next morning, Sirius, Tonks, Hermione and Harry with Fawkes went to Remus’s grave and held a small funeral. The forest around them was still and quiet, as if the very trees were mourning the loss of their friend. They had chosen a secluded spot near the edge of Hogsmeade, where Remus had often found solace from his inner turmoil. They looked down on the grave and each thought their own thoughts.

Tonks, her hair a muted shade of black, stood silently with tears streaming down her face. She held a bouquet of wildflowers, which she gently placed on the freshly dug mound of earth. Sirius, standing beside her, felt a pang of sorrow deep in his chest as he remembered the kind and courageous man who had been a brother to him. Harry was there, a silent supporter of both of them, reminding them that they had people in the world to help them through this hard time. Hermione was there to support her friend and because she thought of Remus as a great teacher.

Sirius, his face etched with grief, stepped forward to speak. "Remus was more than a friend; he was a brother. He fought valiantly in the first war, even when the odds were against him. I promised him I would not let him suffer and that I would never let him kill in his wolf form. I am sorry that I had to keep that promise. He was a good friend that touched all our lives. His spirit will live on in each of us, guiding us in these dark times."

He stepped back and stood solemnly in the dampness that was that morning, remembering the friend that he had. Not the feral wolf that was, but the fun-loving jokester that roamed the school with him and the humble man that he had become.

As his words faded into the stillness, the four of them bowed their heads in a moment of silence, each lost in their own memories of Remus. A soft breeze rustled through the leaves, and for a brief moment, it felt as if he was there with them, offering his quiet strength and unwavering support.

Tonks stepped forward, her voice trembling but resolute. "Remus was the love of my life. He was kind, gentle, and incredibly brave. Despite his inner battles, he always found a way to bring light into the darkest of times. He taught me that true strength lies not in physical power, but in the courage to stand up for what is right and to love unconditionally. I will forever cherish the moments we shared, the laughter, the tears, and the love that binds us even now. He fought our love at first but loved me in the end. I chose to remember the man I loved and not the wolf that killed my father."

She started crying in earnest and Sirius hugged her tight. He led her to the end of the grave where they stood and mourned.

Though he didn’t know Remus well, Harry thought he should say a few words. He squeezed Hermione’s hand and stepped forward. His voice was steady but filled with emotion as he spoke. "Remus was not just a friend; he was my mentor. He taught me one of the most important lessons I have ever learned: how to conjure a Patronus. It wasn't just about casting a spell; it was about finding the strength within myself to face my fears. He showed me that no matter how dark the times may be, there's always a spark of hope. The first time I produced a fully formed Patronus, it was because he believed in me. His teachings gave me the courage to stand up against the darkness and fight for what is right. I will always carry his lessons with me."

As his words hung in the air, the quiet forest seemed to echo the sentiment. Each of them silently honored the legacy of Remus’s unwavering support and guidance. The Patronus, a symbol of hope and resilience, was a testament to the profound impact he had on Harry's life and the lives of many others.

Hermione decided not to say anything, she just stood and gave her support to those that were grieving. She held out her hand and Harry gladly took it as they held their head low for another moment of silence.

With heavy hearts, they turned away from the grave, knowing that although Remus was gone, his legacy would continue to inspire them in the days to come. He may not have died as he wanted to, but he did die before he killed more than one man. At least they hoped that to be true. They had no idea what he had been up to while he roamed the earth when he was with the pack. They can only hope the pack had the determination to make it to Hogwarts. They were going to live with their belief that Remus’s hands were clean. Whether that was true or not.

Fawkes lifted his majestic head and let out a haunting, soulful trill that echoed through the quiet air. The melody, rich with both sorrow and comfort, seemed to weave around the mourners and linger in the mist-kissed morning. His song followed them out of the graveyard, carrying with it a bittersweet sense of hope and remembrance.

Hphphp

Things progressed along the same path for a week, the people did their work, even though some complained. They woke, ate, worked, ate, learned, ate, self-defense, and slept. It was monotonous, but productive. The only people who deviated were Flitwick, Harry, and those who went into the world to find survivors.

Sirius was among those who went into the muggle world to find others who needed help. He would go and ask those that survived the virus if they wanted to come to the castle and was surprised to find that most didn’t. They wanted to stay where they were and eke out a life in the city. They wanted the freedom that living outside the confines of the castle would give them.

“How will Sirius bring survivors into the castle?" Harry asked, once more stumped on how the war wards worked. They were in the Headmaster’s office, Harry once more learning how to be a Deputy Headmaster. He did this every day at the end of the day. Hermione was in his office wrapping up their workday.

“The same way the farmers come and go, portkeys made by me,” Flitwick stated as he sorted through some parchments on his desk. “That is how Sirius leaves every day as well,” he said, scribbling still.

“Why are you letting them in?” the boy wonder asked. “I thought we were keeping people out.” He didn’t understand, he thought they agreed that there would be no new people. He wanted new people to come, but the others thought it was too risky.

“The wards won’t let anyone with ill intent in,” Flitwick said, looking up from his task and peering at Harry with wise eyes. “They won’t let anyone walk in, or port in with a portkey that I didn’t make. Apparation does not work at Hogwarts, so that is out,” he explained, tilting his head. It was discussed and it was the best way. The wards were formidable, with Bill’s additions they were more so.

“What of the Centaurs? Are they excluded? Do the wards include the Forbidden Forest?” Harry asked, picking at a string on his jeans. He was wearing casual clothing today. He didn’t feel the need for robes now that the world had ended.

“The Forbidden Forest is included, therefore incorporates the Centaurs,” the Headmaster stated. He was glad of this fact. The Centaurs were wilder now, but they are an integral part of Hogwarts. They would keep the forest safe.

“That’s good,” the teenager said in relief. “What of Hogsmeade? Did the werewolves harm anyone there?” That had been worrying him since they had killed the pack. He knew they had gone through the town and that there were still people there, but he knew the wards didn’t cover the town.

“We don’t think so,” Flitwick said, rubbing his chin. He had not received any reports of deaths from the town, so he assumed that they were fine.

“Can we check?”

“I suppose I can send a Patronus to the bar owners,” Filius said, readying his wand to do just that. “They would know better than anyone,” he added.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Harry said, feeling much better for that.

With a determined expression, Flitwick raised his wand before him, casting a silvery, ethereal light from its tip. Concentrating deeply, he summoned a memory of warmth and joy—the first time he successfully performed a charm in front of his peers. The memory fueled the magic, and a radiant, shimmering Patronus emerged from the wand's tip, taking the form of a cute little otter.

The Patronus hovered momentarily, awaiting its master's command. "Travel to the bar owners in Hogsmeade," Flitwick instructed, his voice clear and authoritative. "Ask if they suffered any casualties from werewolf attacks before the incident at Hogwarts."

The cute otter darted through the air, leaving a trail of silver light behind it as it flew out of the window and into the twilight sky. Harry watched its departure, feeling a mix of apprehension and hope. He knew the Patronus would reach its destination swiftly, and hopefully they would get an answer soon.

Minutes passed, and the room was silent except for the occasional rustle of parchment on Flitwick's desk. Harry tapped his foot nervously, his thoughts racing. Finally, an owl came through the window. On it was a message that stated that there were no casualties. It was from Leslie, the owner of Hogs Head.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, nodding gratefully to Flitwick. "Thank you, Headmaster. That’s a huge relief to know."

Flitwick smiled warmly, feeling the weight of worry lifting slightly from his shoulders. "Indeed, Harry. We must stay vigilant, but for now, it appears Hogsmeade remains safe."

“How many owners are there?” Harry asked only knowing of Leslie.

“Two, as usual. One for Hogs Head and one for the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta is dead, but someone took her place. Her daughter, Francica, I believe,” Filius said, tapping his chin.

“Why do they keep the bars open when there are so few people in the town?” Harry asked, worried that there would be no business for the two women.

“There are twenty-five people in the town,” Flitwick stated, knowing that for a fact. “Some of the people we brought here, decided to live in the town,” he explained the large number. They were some of the more disagreeable people who flat out refused to live with muggles. Even in this time of age, when the world had come to an end, they still had a prejudice.

Harry knew there were some people there, but not so many. “Why are they not in the castle? They would be safer here,” he said, worried for the town’s folk.

“Some people don’t want to move. They feel they would be better served to stay where they are. Others prefer to live among their own kind,” the Headmaster said, trying to explain why some people did the things that they did. “They maintain the farms and such,” he said lamely.

“They can do that from here, like our workers and the house elves,” Harry protested, not wanting people to put their lives in jeopardy for the food sources.

“We can’t force them to come,” the older man protested, waving his hands. “They have the freedom to live where they want. We are not overlords.”

“I guess,” Harry said, not getting why those people wouldn’t want to come, but respecting their decision.

The two talked more about it for a few more minutes, until it was time for dinner and then went to the Great Hall. This time Harry sat at the Staff Table with the adults. He sat next to Sirius, who was showing some concern.

“There’s talk of people disappearing off the street,” Sirius said as he served himself up some roasted chicken.

“That is concerning,” Flitwick said, looking the other man’s way. “Do they say how?”

“I fear it may be magical,” the dogman said, shaking his head. “They disappear during the night, no noise, no footprints, no other evidence,” he said, worry creasing his forehead. The way it was explained to him, it sounded like they were Apparated from their beds. Snatched in the night.

“Do you think it might be the Death Eaters?” Harry asked, a bit excited. He was getting bored with administration work. Going after Death Eaters would be something exciting.

“It’s possible,” Sirius answered, giving him a queer look.

“That is most problematic,” Flitwick said, rubbing his forehead, staving off the headache this news was giving him. He didn’t need this right now. He still had to deal with the grumbling busybodies that didn’t like their jobs. They did them, but they complained daily.

“Why does this concern us?” Narcissa asked, not seeing the issue. She had just gotten back from her turn in the kitchens, and she was tired. She was sitting next to her sister and niece since they were family. “The Death Eaters have not turned their sights on us, let them have the muggles,” she said, waving the problem away. She might not complain about her work, but her insights on muggles had not changed. She had to live with them, but she didn’t have to like them.

“That is very narrow-minded of you, dear sister,” Andromeda said, narrowing her eyes at the widow Malfoy. She had been trying to get her sister to be more open-minded, but it had been an uphill battle.

 “I care not for the plight of the muggles, you know this,” the other woman said, taking a delicate bite of her vegetables.

“I am worried about what they are doing with the muggles, it might affect us in the long run,” Sirius said, glaring at Narcissa. He knew better than to have that fight. She was set in her ways and thought that the last war was the muggles’ fault. The death of her husband and son due to the virus was their fault as well. How the muggles were to blame for the virus, Sirius didn’t know.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, also glaring at the older woman. He never liked the Lady Malfoy. She was mean and always had something biting to say.

“They could be experimenting on them,” Sirius explained, turning his attention to his godson.

“How does that affect us?” Harry asked, not sure where he was going with that. They were magical and the missing people were muggles.

“Normally it wouldn’t, but with the virus so recent, I am worried,” his godfather said, pushing his plate away like he had just lost his appetite. He didn’t want to think about what those people were going through.

“You think they are trying to recreate it?” Harry asked, aghast. That was the only thing he could think of.

“I don’t know,” Sirius confessed, not sure. “Probably.”

“They can’t be up to any good,” Andi said, cutting her meat with some viciousness.

“I will do some investigation,” Amelia said, putting her napkin on her plate. She was done with her meal. “There have to be some clues,” she said, knowing that no crime was evidence free.

“I’ll take you with me when I go out tomorrow,” Sirius said, looking around the group to see who else wanted to go. He’d take Tonks and Andi, they would be helpful.

“I want to go too,” Harry said, eating his mashed potatoes. He would rather be there, and not here.

“No,” came the chorus of voices.

“What? Why?” Harry asked, flabbergasted at the outburst. He was fifteen years old; he was more than old enough to leave the castle.

“You are needed here,” Flitwick said firmly, setting down his fork with a decisive clink. “You have responsibilities that need to be fulfilled.” He fixed Harry with a steady gaze, making it clear he didn’t want him roaming the muggle world and getting into trouble.

“You’re too young,” Tonks said, almost cheekily.

“What she said,” Sirius said, pointing to Tonks.

“Sirius?” Harry said, hurt that his godfather would say that.

“Look, Harry, we’re talking about Death Eaters here. I don’t want you out there. You would have to fight them. You didn’t even want to kill the werewolves, now you want to fight the Death Eaters,” the older man said, shaking his head. He didn’t understand the way the boy thought sometimes.

“That’s different,” Harry protested. He was more than willing to fight the Death Eaters. They were a threat to the whole of humanity.

“You’re right, it’s much easier to kill a feral werewolf than it is a human,” Sirius said, standing firm on his decision.

“That’s cruel, Sirius,” Tonks said, tears in her eyes.

“He was my best friend,” Sirius said, putting a hand on hers. His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if anchoring himself to a memory too raw to speak aloud.

“I know,” she said softly, patting his hand as it lay on hers, then gently withdrew to brush a stray tear from her cheek.

Harry clenched his fists on the tabletop, jaw set. “I don’t want to kill anyone, but if they are hurting humans, then we need to stop them,” he said, voice unwavering, more than willing to be part of the fight.

“We will, you will not,” Sirius said, not willing to budge on this.

“But I can help,” Harry said, frustrated that they would styme him.

Amelia placed a steady hand on Harry’s shoulder, her touch gentle yet resolute. “I am sure you can, but we can do it without you,” she said in a kindly manner. “You need to stay here and do your job. You need to learn to be a Deputy Headmaster and continue your studies,” she added, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting go. She never agreed that a teenager should be in the field. She never cottoned on to the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing.

“I suppose,” Harry said, slumping in his seat, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to fight the Death Eaters. Yet, he was determined to be part of the fight somehow. He’d just have to figure out how.

Chapter Text

Sirius, Amelia, Andi, and Tonks went into Glasgow, once the bustling heart of Scotland and now a shadow of its former self after the virus took its toll. The streets were eerily silent, littered with remnants of a life; abandoned cars, shattered shop windows, and wilted flowers strewn across the pavements. Their mission was clear: to discover who was abducting the muggles and why.

As they moved through the outskirts of the city, the group remained vigilant, scanning the ruins for any sign of movement. This area, once home to modest suburban houses and family-run shops, now stood as a desolate wasteland. They knew the Death Eaters could be operating from any number of these structures, cleverly hidden among the debris. Each step was deliberate, their wands ready.

“That building looks used,” Tonks said, pointing to a structure with windows partially boarded up and a faint trail of smoke rising from a chimney, suggesting recent habitation.

“Okay,” Amelia said, her voice steady but laced with caution as she stepped toward the building. She raised her wand, the tip glowing faintly, and cast a human-revealing spell at the structure. A soft shimmer illuminated briefly near the boarded windows, confirming her suspicion. “There are three humans in there,” she warned, her tone firm but not unkind, clearly readying herself for whatever might lie beyond the threshold.

“We don’t know they’re hostile,” Sirius said, though he lifted his wand too.

“We don’t know they are friendly either,” she said, walking slowly and effortlessly, picking her way across the debris that was scattered across the ground.

“We can't go treating everybody as if they're going to attack us at any moment,” Andi said, her voice tinged with both exasperation and a faint plea for empathy, her gaze darting briefly to Amelia's resolute expression.

“These people have been living in hostile situations for several weeks now, surrounded by uncertainty and danger at every corner,” said Amelia. Her voice was steady, but her eyes remained fixed on the dimly lit building, scanning its broken windows and smoke-streaked walls where the spell confirmed the presence of humans. “Of course, we're going to treat them as if they're going to attack us. Survival does that to people.”

“That's not fair to them,” said Andi, her voice soft yet edged with a quiet determination. Her gaze swept over the desolate surroundings, lingering on the battered remnants of the city. She preferred to believe they were merely survivors trying to endure rather than enemies lurking in every shadow.

“No, it's not fair to us,” said Amelia, her voice low and measured, yet carrying the weight of determination, as she scanned the surrounding shadows for the faintest hint of danger.

“Alright, ladies,” Sirius said with a soft chuckle as he adjusted his grip on his wand, his gaze briefly scanning the crumbling facade of the nearby building, “let’s go in with open minds and remember—these people are probably terrified out of their wits. Keep your wands ready, but let’s not give them additional reasons to panic.”

"That's right, Mum," said Tonks, her voice steady yet tinged with a hint of urgency. "I've been out here, you haven't. Not since that first time. These people are scared, and fear can make anyone dangerous. Amelia has every right to be cautious." She adjusted her stance, and lifted her wand, watching the building with wary eyes. "Besides," she added, her tone softening slightly, "she's an ex-Auror. Caution runs in her veins, and honestly, it’s probably kept us alive more times than we can count."

“Keep your voices down,” Amelia said in a hushed but firm tone, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the crumbling structure ahead. She adjusted her grip on her wand, its faint glow reflecting her readiness. “We’re almost at the building,” she added, her voice carrying a sharp edge that left no room for argument, her gaze darting between her companions and the foreboding entrance.

As the group approached the building, silence fell among them. The air was thick with tension, their footsteps muffled by the debris scattered across the ground. With wands raised and senses heightened, they crossed the threshold into the dim interior, where the spell had indicated the presence of people. The faint scent of smoke lingered in the air, mingling with the dampness of decay, and the weak glow of Amelia's wand revealed a small, huddled family in the far corner of the room.

The mother, with a weary expression etched deeply onto her dirt-smudged face, shielded her two children, a girl clutching a battered doll and a boy whose wide eyes darted nervously between the strangers. Though their clothes were tattered and layered in grime, their appearance suggested they had managed to find food despite their surroundings. Their faces hinted at weeks of survival in the harsh conditions outside. The room was scattered with broken furniture and dishes, but they were clean and orderly, like the woman had tried to make a home there.

“Hello there,” Sirius said with a calm and steady tone, his wand lowered slightly to avoid intimidating them further. “Don't be scared, we just came to ask some questions.” His eyes softened as he observed the family huddled together, their wary expressions etched with the scars of survival.

The mother straightened slightly, her wary eyes narrowing as she took in the group. Her voice, sharp and laden with suspicion, cut through the tense silence, “Who are you, and what do you want?”

“Like I said, we just came to ask some questions. There are people gone missing, and we wondered if you've seen anything,” Sirius said, his tone patient yet firm, as his gaze swept across the room, lingering briefly on the children clutching their mother for comfort.

“We ain't seen nothing,” said the woman, her voice sharp and defensive. Her eyes darted between the strangers, narrowing with suspicion as her grip tightened protectively on her children's shoulders.

“You haven't seen any people running around in long cloaks?” Tonks asked, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied the woman’s guarded expression. There was a tremor in the woman's voice, subtle but telling, that hinted at something unsaid—a fragment of knowledge buried beneath layers of fear and defiance.

“We ain't seen nothing,” repeated the woman, her voice trembling slightly despite her defensive tone. Her grip on her children tightened, as if shielding them from the unseen dangers she feared the strangers might represent.

“But, Mum, what about…?” said the little girl, her small voice trembling with both curiosity and fear as she clutched the tattered edge of her mother’s skirt, her wide eyes glancing nervously at the strangers.

“Hush, child,” the mother said sharply, her voice a brittle edge of protection that sliced through the tension in the room.

“But, Mum…," said the little boy, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination, his small hands gripping the edge of his mother’s tattered skirt as though it were a lifeline.

“I'll not hear none of it,” the mother said sharply, her voice rising with an edge of desperation that seemed to echo off the crumbling walls. Her eyes flashed with defiance, though her trembling hands betrayed a deep-rooted fear.

“If they can tell us something, it might save some people's lives,” said Amelia, her voice carrying a quiet urgency. Her eyes, shadowed with concern and determination, flicked toward the children huddling close to their mother.

“No, I'll not hear none of it," said the woman again, her voice trembling with a mix of defiance and desperation. Her eyes burned with a fierce protectiveness as she glared at the strangers, her thin frame quivering like a taut wire. “You'll not put my children's lives in jeopardy just because of some people's sneaking around. Get out of here. Get out of my house.” She clutched her children closer, her hands gripping their shoulders as though they were her last anchor in a storm threatening to tear everything apart.

“This is a public building, not your house,” said Tonks, her voice firm but tinged with an edge of weariness. She stepped forward slightly. The tension in the air seemed almost tangible. It used to be a pub before the virus, but now it was this woman’s house, according to her.

“It's my house now,” the woman asserted, her voice trembling yet unyielding. Her gaze swept over the strangers with a mix of defiance and desperation, her thin frame braced as if daring them to challenge her claim.

“You can't just go around claiming buildings just because the world has ended,” laughed Sirius, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and incredulity. He’d seen it done numerous times since the virus hit, so she could do it, but he wanted to see her reaction.

“It is. I tell you. I claimed it. Get out. Get out,” the mother said, her voice rising in a trembling crescendo, each word laced with desperation and defiance. She pushed her children behind her and stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a fierce, protective fire.

“All right. We'll leave you be,” Sirius said, raising his hands, his voice laced with mock amusement, though his sharp gaze flicked to the trembling children clinging to their mother. “If you're not going to cooperate with us, we've got no business being here.” His words dripped with a casual indifference that masked a deeper concern.

“Do you want to come with us?” asked Andi, her tone softening as she stepped closer. She put out her hands in a way that was meant to be calming. “We have a warm place for you, with plenty of food and safety. It's a place where your children can laugh, play, and meet other kids. You won't have to keep looking over your shoulder anymore.”

“What's the catch?” asked the woman, her voice tight with suspicion, her sharp gaze darting between them like a cornered animal searching for an escape route.

"Well, you'd have to work," said Sirius with a smirk, his tone carrying a blend of mischief and gravity. She didn’t look like someone who shirked work, going by how clean the ‘house’ was.

“What kind of work?” the mother asked, her voice edged with both curiosity and wariness.

“Normal work, like cooking meals, tending to the farms, or helping with repairs,” Tonks elaborated, her voice calm yet persuasive, as if painting a picture of simplicity. She glanced at the woman, gauging her reaction, then added, “It’s nothing beyond what anyone can manage, but it could mean a fresh start.”

“I don't rightly know,” the woman murmured, her voice faltering as uncertainty flickered across her face. Her hands fidgeted nervously, betraying her inner conflict. “I don't have to do anything now, do I?” she added, her tone wavering between doubt and defiance.

“Ah, but you're probably running out of food,” said Amelia, her voice calm yet insistent as she stepped closer to the woman, her expression softening to convey genuine concern. “We have plenty of food, and with the farms we’ve established, there will always be more. Can you truly say the same for yourself? Think of what your children could have—a secure place to grow, meals every day, and a chance to simply be kids again.”

“All right, then I'll come with you. I’ll even tell you about them weirdos,” the woman finally said, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her decision. She glanced back at her children, her steadfast gaze silently assuring them that she was doing this for their survival and safety.

“Good. But can you tell me more about those… weirdos,” Sirius said, leaning forward slightly with a glint of curiosity in his eye.

“They came sneaking around here the other night, moving so silently it was unnerving,” the woman began. “But we were ready. We hid, crouched low behind what little cover we could find. They tried to sniff us out with those fancy sticks of theirs—waving them all around like they were looking for ghosts. But we didn’t give them a chance.”

“That was very smart of you,” Sirius said, knowing that the Death Eaters would have found them anyway with the human-revealing spell.

Her tone intensified as she continued, her eyes wide and animated. “Then, out of sheer desperation, me and the kids decided to fight back. We ran at them, screaming and hollering like banshees. They didn’t know what hit them. We flung ourselves at them with all the strength we had, forcing them to retreat. But it was terrifying. They threw lights at us—bright, dazzling flashes that seemed like bursts of magic. I don’t know how they did it, but it was real. It was like something out of a nightmare, I tell you.”

“Magic is real,” Tonks said, changing her hair color, making the children giggle.

The mother nodded as if she accepted that. She continued, her voice dropping as though the memory weighed heavily on her. “We dodged those lights, ducking and weaving, determined not to let them hit us. Somehow, we managed to scare them off. They stumbled and ran, scrambled away like frightened rabbits, they did,” she finished, laughing like a crazed woman. The kids giggling like loons.

Sirius and Tonks started laughing with her. “Good on you,” said Sirius, laughter in his tone.

“Yeah, good on you,” said Tonks, her lips curving into a smile as she leaned against the doorframe. It was the first time Tonks had laughed since Remus had died and it felt good.

“Well, I'm glad you got away,” said Amelia, her tone carrying a mix of relief and concern. Her brow furrowed slightly as she considered the implications of the woman’s story. Though the information didn’t pinpoint where the Death Eaters might be, Amelia couldn’t shake the instinct that they were still lurking nearby. She knew they could be anywhere, but her gut told her they were close.

“Are we sure we want this woman to come to Hogwarts?” asked Andi, her brows knitted in concern. The woman’s tale, filled with bizarre encounters and desperate struggles, made her seem both resourceful and unpredictable. She wasn’t sure she liked that combination.

“You're the one who invited her,” said Amelia, exasperated, her gaze fixed intently on Andi.

“Yeah, but I'm not sure I wanted her to come now,” Andi whispered. Her expression darkened slightly, the furrow in her brow deepening as though she wrestled with a sense of foreboding. Her gaze wandered to the woman, whose nervous movements and darting eyes only seemed to amplify Andi’s unease. There was just something crazed in the woman’s demeanor that set her senses off.

“Oh, I'm pretty sure she's harmless, Andi,” said Amelia, her steady tone was traced with amusement, as though trying to lighten the atmosphere of doubt lingering in the room. Her gaze shifted briefly to the woman. She had a good sense of people, and she didn’t pick up anything bad about this woman. She felt she was a bit… flaky, but harmless.

“I'll take her back, Mum,” said Tonks, stopping the debate.

“Okay, we'll stay here until you get back,” said Andi, her tone soft but steady, as she offered her daughter a warm, reassuring smile. Her eyes carried concern, but she believed in Tonks's ability to handle the situation.

With a determined expression, Tonks grabbed the return portkey, her wand glinting faintly under the dim light as she helped the anxious woman and her two wide-eyed children prepare for the journey back to Hogwarts. She returned five minutes later, empty-handed, but with an air of accomplishment. Without wasting a moment, the group moved on to the next building, scanning its shadowy corners with sharp, cautious eyes to see if anyone else might be hiding within. Using all the magic at their disposal, they searched.

The search turned up empty, and they pressed on, repeating their sweep along the outskirts of Glasgow. The day lengthened into a patchwork of tense silences and brief exchanges as they encountered a handful of others. By the day's end, they had brought back five additional individuals. Yet, several others chose to remain in muggle Scotland.

It had not been a fruitful day.

Hphphp

“I just don't understand it, Hermione. Why won't they let me go out and help them?” demanded Harry as he was sitting in his office with his best friend. They were doing their daily paperwork, which really wasn't much since Harry was not that educated in the ways of being Deputy Headmaster. Mostly it was reorganizing and revamping of old files and since they had done most of that already, they were just shuffling parchment now.

“I don't understand it either, Harry. You've done so much for the school—you would think they would recognize that and let you take on this as well,” Hermione replied, her tone tinged with both sympathy and frustration. She adjusted her robes with a brisk motion before placing yet another file into the file cabinet.

“Maybe you and I can sneak out and try to uncover what the Death Eaters are plotting,” Harry said, with some determination. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, and began pacing across his office with restless energy.

“Do you really want to go against Sirius’s orders like that? Not to mention the Headmaster’s,” she asked, her voice steady but her eyes narrowing slightly, as though weighing the consequences of such a bold decision.

“It's better than sitting here and being frustrated like this. I am a man of action! I can't stand being cooped up in this office, pushing around parchment and quills like some old office worker,” Harry exclaimed, his voice rising with each word. His pacing quickened and his shoes echoed loudly off the office walls.

“Oh, Harry, it's not that bad,” said Hermione, slightly exasperated, though the crease in her brow betrayed her growing weariness. She shuffled the stack of parchment in front of her, her hands moving with a precision that belied the monotony of their task.

“Oh, don't give me that, you're getting bored with it too,” said Harry, teasing her and pointing to the way her fingers strayed on the files just a bit too long. He knew her better than she knew herself—or at least better than she would ever admit.

“I’ll have you know, sir, that I am quite content doing what we are doing now,” she said promptly, her tone clipped as she lifted her chin with an air of mock dignity, though the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth hinted at her playful sarcasm.

Harry's voice carried a weight of seriousness as he leaned closer to Hermione, his green eyes blazing with determination. “You are not,” he insisted, his tone unwavering, yet tinged with an edge of frustration. His glasses reflected the light in the room as he mock glared at her.

“You're right, I'm not,” Hermione admitted, her voice trembling slightly as she brushed a stray curl away from her face. Her gaze softened, her brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I miss Ron so much. If he were here, he would have already found that car and flown us to Glasgow,” she added with a faint, bittersweet smile, the memory of their friend's carefree recklessness.

They were silent for a moment, their thoughts drifting to the memory of their fiery-haired friend, whose reckless spirit had often been the spark for their daring escapades. Then, with a frustrated sigh, Harry broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “There’s got to be a way we can get out of this castle,” he said, his tone tinged with determination and defiance.

“I just don't know how,” the bushy-haired witch said, slamming down the quill she had been playing with, the sound of its clatter echoing sharply in the otherwise quiet room.

“We could fly. There are brooms at the Quidditch pitch,” Harry said half-heartedly, his voice tinged with a wistful note as though the very thought carried an aching yearning for simpler days of daring adventures. But even as the words left his lips, his shoulders sagged slightly, he knew as he spoke it wouldn’t work.

"The war wards are up. They won't let us," Hermione reminded him, her voice low but edged with a quiet urgency. Her eyes darted to the window, where the moonlight streamed in, casting ghostly patterns across the room.

“I wonder if we can go out through the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry said, his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and curiosity as he flopped heavily into his chair, the old wood creaking under his sleight weight. “Or that one tunnel the twins used that one time. You know, the one that goes underneath Honeydukes.” His green eyes glinted with a faint spark of hope, though his furrowed brow betrayed the uncertainty still gnawing at him.

“Oh, I'd forgotten about that,” Hermione said, her forehead furrowing as the gravity of the situation dawned on her. “We'd better tell the Headmaster about that one. That's a breach of security,” she added, her voice firm.

“Yeah, you're right. I really wish I had my map,” Harry muttered, running a hand through his perpetually untidy hair as his gaze drifted to the sparkling sunlight that filtered through the window. “Ron had it, and Fred didn’t think to grab it when he came from St. Mungo’s. it was a trying time, so I don’t blame him,” he added, his tone laced with a mixture of exasperation and affection. Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly as an idea began to take shape. “But maybe there’s another map somewhere, or… wait a minute—what about the Room of Requirements?”

Her eyes lit up with a spark of cautious optimism, the gears of her mind visibly whirring as she considered the possibilities. “You think it could help us find a way out?”

“It might,” he said with a grin, his green eyes glinting with a faint spark of hope as though the very idea ignited a flame of possibility. “Dobby said all we have to do is ask it for what we need.”

“Alright,” she said, her determination sharpening. “Let’s go, before anyone notices we’re missing.”

They slipped through the corridors, keeping to the shadows as portraits murmured sleepily above their heads. The castle seemed heavier than ever, its ancient walls creaking softly with the weight of secrets untold. They made sure that they were keeping to the unused parts of the castle, which was easy since it was class time, and most of the adults were working on the farms or in the kitchen.

When they finally reached the familiar stretch of blank wall, he turned to her. “You ready?”

She nodded firmly. “Let’s do it.”

Harry began pacing back and forth, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he focused on their shared desire. A way out. A means to leave unnoticed. A path to freedom. The tension in the air thickened as the moments stretched, until finally, the wall before them shimmered like the surface of a calm lake kissed by moonlight. Slowly, a door emerged, its dark wood etched with intricate carvings that seemed to hum with latent magic.

They exchanged a quick, hopeful glance, their determination mirrored in each other's eyes, before Harry pushed the door open. Beyond it was a room that felt oddly familiar, its cozy warmth reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room. Soft red and gold tapestries adorned the walls, and a gentle glow emanated from sconces that lined the space. But where the fireplace would have been, there now stood a shimmering portal, its surface rippling like liquid gold. Standing beside it, looking both startled and resolute, was Neville Longbottom.

“Hey, Harry. Hermione,” Neville said, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and relief. The warm glow of the portal reflected in his round face, hinting at a mood of cautious curiosity.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I was writing a real book. I finished it and am posting it to read for free. It’s posted on Wattpad and Fictionpress under the name Fairywm. I am quite proud of my accomplishment.  

Anyway, on with this story.

Hphphp

Off to the side of Neville, a sudden, melodious trill pierced the tense air as Fawkes made his presence unmistakable. The majestic phoenix swooped gracefully down from a shadowy rafter, wings blazing with scarlet and gold fire, and settled onto a golden stand the room conjured for him. Each feather shimmered, casting dancing patterns of warm light across the flagstones, while a faint, spicy scent of smoke seemed to hang around him. Fawkes cocked his head, his wise, dark eyes fixed on Harry with an unmistakable air of disapproval, as if silently judging the choices that had led them here. It was impossible to ignore the growing sense that the phoenix expected something more from him.

“Fawkes, what are you doing here?” asked Harry as he went up to the bird and gently stroked his shimmering feathers, feeling the surprising heat that radiated from them. The phoenix let out a low, mournful note, shifting his talons on the golden stand and regarding Harry with an expression both ancient and inscrutable. Harry tried to appease the bird somehow, unsure what he had done to make the phoenix upset but determined to make it up to him.

Neville raised an eyebrow in disbelief, then reached out and, with a tentative hand, offered Fawkes a gentle scratch beneath his beak. The phoenix regarded him with a brief, approving trill before ruffling his feathers, sending a tiny cascade of golden sparks onto the flagstones below. “You don't even know where your own phoenix is?” Neville asked, his tone mixing disappointment and awe.

“I keep forgetting that he’s my phoenix now,” said Harry, his voice tinged with embarrassment. Fawkes responded with a swift, precise nip to Harry’s hand—a brief flare of heat and a flash of golden sparks, though not so much as a scratch appeared on Harry’s skin. He recoiled, blinking in surprise, looking at the phoenix with contrite. Fawkes stood tall on his stand, his beady eyes fixed on Harry in silent reproach.

“How could you forget something like that?” asked Neville. He knew if he had a phoenix, he’d never forget it. At least he hoped he never would. He petted the bird again, earning a trill and a nudge on the cheek. As if invigorated by the attention, Fawkes stretched his wings wide, sending a swirl of golden sparks into the air before folding them neatly at his sides.

“Well, he's not something that I forget, per se, just something I forget that's mine,” said Harry, looking sheepishly at the ground as a blush crept up his cheeks. He felt he didn’t deserve the magnificent bird. Why Fawkes chose him was beyond his understanding. He had done nothing to earn that kind of trust. At least he didn’t think so. Then again, now that he knew about Dumbledore, maybe phoenixes weren’t that picky.

“I guess I can understand that, but now to answer the great bloody question, what the hell am I doing here?” asked Neville, gesturing to the room around them. He took a cautious step forward, running his fingers along the edge of a battered wooden desk as if seeking reassurance from its solidity. “One minute I’m in the library, the next I’m here.” It had been an odd sensation, but not a scary one. Though the portal did give him reason for pause.

“Well, you see… me and Hermione were… um… we were trying to…” Harry fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, glancing at Hermione for support. As he hesitated, he shuffled his feet, the soles scuffing softly against the flagstones, betraying his nervous energy. “Um…” he continued, eyes darting about the room as if searching for inspiration among the shifting shadows.

“What Harry's trying to say is we're trying to find a way out of the castle,” said Hermione, seeing no reason to lie to Neville. He’d just figure it out anyway. She never saw any reason to keep the truth from the shy boy. She gestured to the portal like it was the obvious way for them to escape.

“Oh, I see,” said Neville, looking at the portal again. “Why are you trying to find a way out of the castle?” he asked, a bit of desperation hinted on his tone. He really wanted to join them on whatever venture they were going on. He didn’t care what it was. Even if it was to pick lilies, he wanted to go.

“Why else to go fight the Death Eaters?” said Harry. His face took on a wicked grin. He loved the thought of going to find Death Eaters to fight.

“Didn't Sirius specifically tell you not to go fight the Death Eaters?” asked Neville, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Not that he didn’t want to go, but he wanted to play Devil’s Advocate for a moment.

“Yeah, but when have I ever done what adults tell me to do?” said Harry with a casual shrug, tossing his hair out of his eyes as if to punctuate his point.

That caused Neville to shrug too. Harry did have a point. Every time the adults told him to stay out of it, he wound up in the middle of trouble. Even if it wasn’t of his own accord. Neville shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels as he glanced around the room, considering the possibilities.

Hermione stepped toward Neville, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she spoke. “You want to come with us, Neville?” she asked, her voice filled with hope that including him might keep him from reporting their plan.

“Me fight the Death Eaters? Of course,” said Neville, giving her a winning smile, as if that had been his plan all along. He straightened, reaching out to scratch Fawkes gently behind the plume, earning a soft trill from the phoenix. “But why are you trying to sneak out via the Room of Requirement? Why didn't you just ask Fawkes?” he asked Harry, once more petting the brilliant bird.

“I told you, I bloody well forgot he was mine,” said Harry, still grooming his familiar. With a quick, almost theatrical sweep, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a treat offering it with an encouraging smile. He hoped he liked it. He had no idea if Fawkes ate candied treats.

Fawkes took the treat, tilting his head as he inspected it before snapping it up and swallowing it whole. He fluffed his brilliant feathers with a proud little shake, as if to say the offering was acceptable—for now.

Harry still hadn’t introduced Hedwig to Fawkes. They were going to have to do that soon. He had no idea how those two were going to get along. He just hoped it was well.

Fawkes honked at him and nipped him on the finger again, then fluttered his wings, sending a warm gust of air swirling through the room.

“Sorry, Fawkes,” said Harry in a contrite tone, reaching out to gently stroke the phoenix’s glossy feathers.

With a soft trilling sound of forgiveness, Fawkes fluttered his wings and gave Harry a gentle nudge with his beak.

“I'll try better next time, I promise,” said Harry, resuming his grooming of the avian. He reached out a little further and, with gentle fingers, offered Fawkes another treat, hoping to further win the phoenix's favor.

“Well, it looks like we have two avenues of escape. We can go through this bloody portal, or we could take the bird,” said Neville, pointing first at the swirling doorway and then at Fawkes. He shifted his weight, then stepped forward and ran his fingers along the cool edge of the portal, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Harry crouched beside Fawkes and extended a hopeful hand, palm up in invitation. “What do you say, Fawkes? Do you want to take us out of here?” he asked, giving the bird doe eyes.

Fawkes shook his head emphatically and fluffed his wings, hopping a step away from the portal as if making his opinion perfectly clear—he wanted no part in this particular escape.

Hermione stepped forward decisively and brushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “Looks like we're taking the portal,” she said, grinning at their antics. She knew the phoenix was smart.

“Do we know where it leads?” asked Harry, peering down the dark tunnel. He really didn’t care as long as it got him away from there.

“Does it really matter as long as it leads out of Hogwarts?” asked Hermione as she came to Harry’s side.

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, casting an uneasy glance at the swirling portal before them. “Well, how are we going to get back into the castle?” he asked, turning to look at the other two. “I’m sure once we leave this room, this portal closes.”

“That's a really good question,” said Neville, scratching his nose in thought. He glanced once more at the swirling portal, then took a hesitant step closer, as if testing its boundaries with the toe of his shoe.

“Fawkes, will you be willing to come and get us?” asked Harry, giving his bird puppy-dog eyes.

At that, Fawkes cocked his head to the side, his jeweled eyes glittering with understanding. He stretched his wings, ruffling his brilliant feathers, and hopped purposefully toward Harry. With a soft trill, he nudged Harry’s wrist in reassurance, then lifted into the air, circling the trio in a slow, graceful arc before fluttering down to land by the portal, talons clicking lightly on the floor. He gave Harry a sharp, affirmative nod, ready to help when the time came.

“There you go. He might not be willing to help us escape, but he's willing to come get us,” Harry said, smiling triumphantly. He gave his firebird another treat from his pocket. Fawkes may not seem overly happy with them, but he was eating them.

“Well, I'm up for it,” said Neville, glancing around the room as if searching for something worth grabbing. With a determined nod, he stepped forward, planting himself firmly beside Harry and Hermione, signaling he was ready to move on.

Hermione crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Aren't you supposed to be trying to stop us?” she asked, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

“Why would I want to do that? It's bloody boring in this castle,” exclaimed Neville. He stomped his foot for emphasis, casting a longing glance at the swirling portal, as if daring it to hurry them along on their way out.

“Well, usually you're the one who's trying to stop us,” said Hermione with a shrug, giving Neville a playful nudge on the shoulder.

“Yeah, but that was before. This is the end of the world. I'm up for killing Death Eaters now,” the normally shy boy said, like he had turned over a new leaf and was willing to see how far it grew. Neville squared his shoulders and gave the swirling portal a determined look, then tightened his grip on his wand as if steeling himself for what was to come.

“I see your point,” said Hermione. She wasn’t willing to kill anyone, but she was willing to fight them.

“Let's get this show on the road”, said Harry, heading to the portal. He was done with the talking. He wanted to go, now.

With that, the three of them plunged through the portal and tumbled into the familiar, yet strangely altered, Three Broomsticks. Harry barely caught his balance, one hand shooting out to steady Hermione as she stumbled over a loose floorboard. Neville, wide-eyed, brushed off his cloak and looked around warily as the door creaked shut behind them.

The tavern was a shadow of its former self. A musty odor hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of spilt butterbeer and old wood smoke. Dust motes drifted down from the rafters, swirling in a shaft of sickly, filtered sunlight slanting through the grimy windows. Chairs were piled haphazardly in corners, some missing legs, and a battered broom leaned forgotten against the bar. The faded carpet, once a deep maroon, was threadbare and littered with crumbs and broken glass. Behind the bar, only a few lonely bottles glimmered, their labels peeling. A tarnished mirror reflected the trio’s uncertain faces, and the sagging curtains drooped lifelessly, their edges chewed by moths. Every step echoed in the hollow, neglected space as they moved further in, the floorboards groaning underfoot and cobwebs brushing their sleeves.

“Well, this place has gone to pot,” said Neville, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he ran his fingers along the dusty bar, leaving a clean trail in the grime.

“What do you expect? There have to be very few customers,” said Hermione, feeling sorry for the girl who took over. She brushed a patch of dust off a nearby table, watching it swirl in the sunlight. There just weren’t enough people in Hogsmeade to support two taverns.

“I guess I can see that,” said Harry, nodding sagely.

“Well, now that we're out, what's your great idea, Harry?” asked Neville, making sure not to touch anything else in this dusty place. He was grungy enough just standing here.

"Sirius and his team are in Glasgow. I think that we should also go there and scout the areas they are not covering," Harry suggested, already moving toward the battered door. He pushed it open with a creak, sending a swirl of dust motes into the air, and motioned for Hermione and Neville to follow him out onto the empty street.

“How are we going to know where they’re not?” Neville asked, glancing uneasily up and down the empty street as he tightened his grip on his wand. He knew there were people here, but they all seemed to be absent right now. It was a ghost town at the moment.

“I don't know. Keep an eye out for them,” said Harry, looking uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his hair, scanning the deserted street outside as he stepped forward, his trainers crunching on the gravel.

“Oh, brilliant plan, Harry,” said Neville, slowly clapping his hands.

“I'd like to see you come up with a better one, Neville,” said Harry, glaring at the other boy. It wasn’t like he’d asked Neville to come along. That had been Hermione.

“Do you know what side of Glasgow they're at?” asked Neville, if it were up to him, he’d go to a different city. However, he didn’t know the muggle world at all.

“No, I don't, or I would have said that earlier,” said Harry, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. He stalked a few paces down the street, scuffing his shoe against a loose stone before turning back to face his friends.

“I think they said they were going to be on the outskirts,” said Hermione, putting her hand on Harry’s shoulder and calming him down.  She had been listening to the adults when they talked about it earlier. They were headed to the outskirts and were going to work their way inward.

“Then we will go to the downtown,” said Neville, flipping his hand in a ‘there’ manner.

“Alright,” said Harry, nodding his head decisively, “That sounds like a plan.” He glanced up and down the deserted street, then gestured for his friends to follow. With cautious steps, he led the way toward the city center. They could Disapparate at the end of the street, there was a clearing there. It wasn’t like he wanted to be cautious in Hogsmeade, but it was just so creepy with no one around.

“It's better than what you had,” teased Neville, ribbing Harry good-naturedly as they walked. He wasn’t scared at all, this was a comfortable place for him, a ghost town or not.

“Fuck off,” said Harry, shoving him back, just as playfully. Okay, he could see Neville’s point. There was no reason to be wary.

“Back at you,” said Neville and the two started shoving one another in a playful manner.

“Language,” said Hermione, causing them to stop.

“All right, let's go,” said Harry, breaking into a jog toward the clearing, his trainers crunching on the gravel. Neville laughed and raced after him, nearly tripping over a stray branch, while Hermione hurried to keep pace, clutching her bag tightly. As they reached the edge of the street, Harry glanced around one last time to make sure they weren't being watched. Satisfied, he raised his wand, signaling the others. A heartbeat later, with a soft crack, all three vanished from the empty street, leaving only a swirl of dust where they had stood.

Upon arrival in Glasgow, they found a tent community within the city. The buildings had crumbled due to arson during earlier riots. After the virus outbreak and subsequent deaths, looting and riots ensued, leading to fires. Survivors established a new community amid the ruins.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she gingerly stepped over a pile of discarded cans, her gaze sweeping the desolate camp. “How can people live like this?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Harry crouched behind a burnt-out car, peering cautiously at the makeshift camp. “How else do you expect them to live?” he asked, voice low as he shifted aside a sharp piece of metal with his foot. Garbage fluttered past in the wind, and he brushed a stray scrap of newspaper from his shoe as he spoke. None of it looked useful—just remnants of a world long gone. And it had only been a few weeks. How had the world come to this in such a short time?

"Perhaps moving to the suburbs and residing in houses there would be more practical," Hermione suggested. She considered this option more suitable than staying in tents that might not withstand winter conditions. It was currently winter, and she wondered how people were managing.

“Maybe they want the comfort of the large buildings,” said Neville, looking at the crumbled skyscrapers. He had a feeling that the muggles just liked the thought of being where they were more familiar with. And weren’t there underground places around here. He could see where those would work during bad storms.  

“Maybe,” said Hermione though she still didn’t understand that mentality.

“At any rate, this is what they want, so they're here. Let's go ask them some questions,” said Harry, getting up and brushing dust from his jeans before striding purposefully toward the nearest group of survivors. He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

Hermione crossed her arms and frowned. “Don't you think we're going to stick out like sore thumbs?” she said, gesturing pointedly at their pristine clothing and clean skin. Not to mention their fat faces and healthy bodies.

“Now that you've mentioned it, yeah. We’d better dirty ourselves up a little bit,” said Neville, reaching down and grabbing some dirt and rubbing it on his face. He then started to rub some on his clothes as well, smearing mud along his sleeves and wiping dust on his cheeks until he resembled the other survivors. He glanced at Harry and Hermione, wordlessly encouraging them to follow his lead.

“Good idea,” said Harry, following suit.

“Foolish boys, we'll just put a glamour on us,” said Hermione, reaching for her wand and doing just that. She flicked her wrist in a practiced motion, tracing a subtle circle in the air as she muttered the incantation. Instantly, her hair grew stringy, her clothes faded and hung loosely, and her face took on a gaunt, unhealthy look. “There,” she said, dusting off her hands and tucking her wand away.

“That is a much better idea,” said Neville, clapping the dirt off his hands before swiftly drawing his wand. With a flick and a murmured spell, he transformed his own appearance—his face hollowed, his hair dulled, and his clothes faded to threadbare drabness, matching Hermione’s disguise.

“I don't know why I didn't think of that,” said Harry, smacking his forehead. He really needed to start thinking about using magic. With a sheepish sigh, he reached for his wand, then followed Hermione’s example—murmuring the incantation and feeling the tingle as his own appearance shifted: cheeks hollowing, hair turning lank, and his jeans fraying at the hems. He did wonder why Neville hadn’t thought of it either, considering he was a pureblood.

Now, disguised and inconspicuous, they wove through the labyrinth of tents, dodging sagging guy ropes and weaving between clusters of wary survivors huddled around smoky fires. Neville struck up an idle conversation with a pair of men sharpening scavenged knives, while Hermione traded a few conjured bandages for whispered rumors from an elderly woman tending her grandchildren. Harry ducked beneath a battered awning, trying to question a group of teenagers who eyed him warily, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Every so often, a chilly wind swept through, rattling tarps and sending dust swirling, but they pressed on, determined to gather whatever information they could about the mysterious disappearances.

Hermione appeared first at their agreed rendezvous, pulling her glamour tighter about her shoulders as if it could ward off the evening chill. When Harry and Neville arrived, she glanced around to ensure they were unobserved, then crouched beside a battered crate, motioning for them to join her. “So far all I've gotten are rumors and gossip about people going missing,” she whispered, lowering her voice. She pulled a scrap of conjured parchment from her pocket, absently smoothing its wrinkled edge as she spoke. They had only been at it for about an hour, having gotten a late start.

“What kind of gossip?” asked Harry, beyond irritated. “Because I haven't gotten anything,” he said, kicking a rock and grabbing his hair in frustration.

“It's mostly from the outskirts like Sirius and them are looking into,” she said, tapping her chin in thought. “It's like they're not touching the downtown area,” she said, looking around the tent city like there was a ward on it she couldn’t see.

“Too many people, I would think,” said Neville, he too looking around the tent city but for a different reason. He was seeing all the people and why the Death Eaters would stay away. At least for now.

“Yes, but what are they saying?” asked Harry, turning Hermione’s attention back on to him.

Hermione leaned in, glancing over her shoulder before lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They're saying not to go to the outskirts because there's a boogeyman out there that'll steal you from your bed,” she said, tucking the scrap of parchment securely back into her cloak as she spoke.

“Oh, so there's already rumors of a boogeyman?” Neville said, with a mock grin as he crouched down beside Hermione, tugging his tattered sleeve further over his hand in a half-hearted attempt to ward off the chill. Not that he found the Death Eaters funny, but tales of a boogeyman, really?

“That's right, so Amelia, Sirius and them are on the right track,” said Hermione. She was going to have to tell them that too. Which meant they would have to cop to being out today. She tucked the parchment more securely into her pocket and glanced around cautiously, as if expecting someone to overhear, before giving Harry and Neville a quick nod to signal they should move to a quieter spot.

“So, we're blowing up the wrong skirt,” Neville quipped with a mischievous glint in his eye, nudging a loose stone on the ground with the toe of his boot as he tried to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“Not a phrase I would use,” said Hermione, wrinkling her nose at him.

“Sorry about that, Hermione,” said Neville in a tone that suggested he wasn’t the least bit apologetic.

“At any rate, yes, we're in the wrong area. We need to go to the outskirts and see what we can find there,” Hermione said with a sniff. When did Neville become so charismatic? She started moving further away from the tent city as if they could hear them talking. They couldn’t, but she was being paranoid.

Harry and Neville followed her, grinning at her precautions. Neville fished out his battered wand and traced idle patterns in the air, sending tiny sparks dancing over the grass as they moved. “I doubt we'll find the Death Eaters today, it's almost nighttime,” he said, looking at his watch and then the darkening sky.

“Well, we've heard the rumors, and we know where to start looking tomorrow. Let's call Fawkes and get back to the castle,” said Harry. He knew when to call it quits. Mostly. Okay, he knew when to listen to his friends. Mostly. Sometimes, he just didn’t know when to listen to anyone.

“All right, we know how to get out of the castle now,” said Hermione, agreeably. She was glad they had a way out. This way they weren’t cooped up doing boring parchmentwork all day long.

“As long as neither one of you tell, I won't tell anybody,” Neville said, more than happy to keep this secret.

“Fawkes!” called Harry, his voice slicing through the deepening dusk. In a sudden flash of crimson and gold, the phoenix swooped down, wings fanning the air with a rush of warmth. The bird landed gracefully on Harry's shoulder, its talons light as a whisper, and regarded the trio with a knowing gaze.

“Can you take us back to the castle?” Harry asked, reaching up to gently steady the majestic firebird.

Fawkes gave a melodic trill, feathers shimmering. Hermione quickly grabbed Harry’s arm, while Neville—almost stumbling in his haste—latched onto Hermione’s sleeve. Fawkes spread his wings wide, flames flickering at the tips, and with a brilliant swirl of light, the three friends were lifted off their feet. The world spun and blurred, warmth and the scent of smoke wrapping around them as they vanished from the outskirts of the tent city.

A heartbeat later, they reappeared, stumbling slightly, in the safe familiarity of the Room of Requirements, breathless and blinking in the sudden quiet.

Neville gave Fawkes a grateful nod, reaching out to gently stroke the firebird’s gleaming breastplate. The phoenix leaned in, closing its eyes contentedly and letting out a soft, musical note that seemed to echo around the Room of Requirements.

“Yes, thank you, Fawkes,” said Hermione, reaching out and scratching Fawkes’s crest. The phoenix leaned into her touch, feathers ruffling with quiet pleasure as he trilled softly in response.

"I'll try and remember you next time I need to go anywhere," said Harry, beaming at his firebird. He hesitated for a moment, then fished a ginger biscuit from his pocket and offered it to Fawkes with a hopeful grin.

The bird trilled back, investigated the treat with a curious tilt of its head, then nipped the biscuit delicately from Harry’s palm. With a flash of feathers and a playful nudge to Harry’s cheek, Fawkes launched himself into the air, circled the friends in a shower of glowing embers, and vanished in a swirl of flame.

“I really have to think about what to get that bird for a treat,” said Harry thoughtfully. He had no idea what to feed a phoenix. So far, he liked the candies and the biscuit. Would Fawkes eat anything Harry gave him, or just sweets? Lost in thought, Harry absentmindedly brushed a few glowing feathers from his robes, then started pacing the Room of Requirements, searching the shelves for anything that might serve as an appropriate gift for a magical bird.

“You really gotta remember that that's your bird now,” said Hermione, thoughtfully. She was going to have to do some research on that bird. She wanted to know everything about it. Hermione pulled a thick tome off one of the shelves and began leafing through it, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“There's that too,” said Harry. He tucked his wand away, then absentmindedly paced the length of the Room, fingertips trailing over the spines of ancient books stacked along the shelves. It wasn’t that he was forgetful, it was that there was just so much that was happening lately. Yet, he was bored at the same time.

“We better get back to the castle proper before we're missed,” said Neville, going to the door. He opened the door and standing there was one very pissed off Luna Lovegood. Hermione gasped and instinctively stepped back, accidentally knocking over a stack of enchanted books that slid to the floor with a series of muffled thuds.

“Oops,” said Harry.

Chapter Text

Luna was not a happy camper, pacing back and forth with her arms crossed, but there was little they could do about it. They let her know what happened in Glasgow and she just nodded along like that was what she had expected. They gathered their things and made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry broke off from the group, weaving through the crowded hall as students chatted animatedly, to eat at the Staff Table with the adults.

Harry settled into his seat at the table; his movements deliberate as he adjusted his chair and placed his napkin on his lap. He glanced toward Sirius, who was already reaching for the serving dishes. The air around them carried a faint buzz of chatter from the students scattered across the hall.

“How did your trip go?” Harry asked, his voice calm yet tinged with curiosity. There were plates piled high with roasted chicken, pork chops, and Beef Wellington. The array of side dishes and vegetables remained untouched for the moment, though their rich aromas swirled invitingly around the table.

“We brought back a few people and discovered that the Death Eaters are taking people from the outskirts of the big cities,” Sirius answered, grabbing some of the Beef Wellington. He grinned like a fool as if they had done a great thing, then leaned forward to pour himself a goblet of pumpkin juice with a practiced motion.

“The big cities? Not just Glasgow?” Harry asked, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. He had no idea it was so widespread. That was going to be harder to explore. There were so few of them to do so. This just got harder.

“That’s right, we nipped down to London and learned that there have been people missing from there as well. we’ll go to a few more cities tomorrow and investigate them as well,” Sirius said, his face was set in a grim expression.

“And you, Mr. Potter, did you find such a thing in your investigation?” Flitwick asked, looking for all the world like he was asked about the weather. He didn’t even look in Harry’s direction.

“Yeah,” Harry said, before he caught himself. He reached for his glass of water, taking a deliberate sip to mask the tension rising in his voice. “I mean, what do you mean, Headmaster?” he asked quickly. His eyes said it all though; he knew he’d been caught. He has never been good at lying.

“Harry!” Sirius snapped, slamming his fork down and rising partially from his seat to make his point clear. “I thought I told you to stay in the castle,” he said, turning to look at the teenager.

Many of the nearby students turned to look at them, and Harry’s cheeks reddened. He picked up his goblet and took a long sip of water, attempting to focus on its coolness to calm his nerves. “Not here, Sirius,” he said, under his breath. “I am the Deputy Headmaster. I can’t be seen chastised like a child,” he stated.

“We will be discussing this,” Sirius said as he sat back down, picking up his fork and resuming his meal.  He was steaming though. He never really got mad at Harry before, and this would probably blow over quickly, but to openly deify him like this.

“Of that I have no doubt,” Harry grumbled under his breath. He ducked his head. He didn’t like Sirius, mad at him. He cut a look at his godfather and offered him a sheepish grin.

Sirius sighed, seeing the look and took a deep breath to calm down. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Look, Harry, you are my world right now. I just don’t want anything happening to you,” he said, in a much calmer tone. He then took up his fork and started to enjoy his Beef Wellington. It was a good meal.

“I know, Sirius, but I can’t sit and do nothing. I’m just not built that way,” Harry said, cutting his pork chop with deliberate motions before setting his knife down firmly. “I need to go and find out what’s going on. I have to fight the good fight, or I feel useless,” he stated, his voice unwavering.

“I understand that I really do, but you are fifteen years old. You should be worrying over you get the girl, not fighting anything,” Sirius said, cutting his meat with a bit of viciousness. He didn’t understand at all. When he was in school all he thought of was pranks and girls. He didn’t even think of schoolwork until Moony made him. He paused a moment at the guilt he felt at the memory. Then he shook it off, Remus wouldn’t have wanted him to wallow.

“What girl? There are no girls,” Harry said, looking out at what used to be a sea of people that was now a river. He shook his head, his hand fidgeting with the edge of his robe as he wondered if there would ever be a woman for him. He knew the girls his age, and none of them stroked that spark in his soul. The closest he came to was Hermonie and he thought of her as a sister. Didn’t he?

“What about the Patil twins? They are not hard on the eyes,” Sirius asked, leaning back slightly in his chair with an exaggerated casualness. He glanced across the room, his fork idly tapping against the edge of his plate as he gestured subtly towards the giggling twins. He seemed to study Harry’s reaction, his brow lifting playfully as though daring the teenager to respond.

Harry, however, remained focused on his own plate, his knife cutting through his food with a deliberate precision that betrayed his effort to avoid the conversation entirely. “Taken. Well, they were before the virus,” he said, shrugging slightly as he pushed a piece of meat to the side of his plate. He glanced up briefly, catching Sirius’s inquisitive gaze before looking back down. “It was an arranged marriage, I think,” he added, his tone carefully neutral as he adjusted his napkin in his lap. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face, and he stabbed a vegetable with his fork, as though seeking to punctuate his words with action.

“Didn’t you take one of them to the Yule Ball?” Sirius asked, taking a bite of his asparagus.

“Yeah, but it was only a date,” Harry said, nodding his agreement. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and fiddled with his fork. “Can we talk about something else? I don’t want to discuss my love life with you,” he said, looking around the room for inspiration. He really didn’t want to think about that night or Ron. It still hurt too much to think about his best mate.

Flitwick leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Are you truly determined to sneak out and investigate?” he asked, his sharp eyes narrowing as he folded his hands deliberately in front of him. His tone was measured, but the slight tilt of his head suggested he was closely gauging Harry’s reaction. He glanced briefly at the others seated around the table, his expression unreadable, before turning his full attention back to the young wizard. Flitwick’s presence seemed to shift the air in the room, adding a subtle weight to the conversation.

Amelia took an interest in them at that question, her gaze narrowing slightly as she leaned forward, her hands clasping the edge of the table. Andi exchanged a glance with Tonks, who raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, as though anticipating where the conversation might lead.

“Me and my friends, yeah,” Harry said, keeping his tone conversational. He continued to eat his meal, like they weren’t talking about anything important. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“You might as well take them with you. The castle is going to continue to let them out,” Filius said, looking at Amelia. He cut his chicken and took a deliberate bite before setting down his fork sharply, the sound punctuating his words. He straightened in his seat, his gaze sharpening as though daring anyone to challenge his statement. He glanced at the students and parents, his expression tinged with both resignation and hope, wondering if any of them would unravel the castle's secrets. He really hoped not—such knowledge could create a logistical nightmare. Not that this place was meant to be a prison, but...

“I don’t like it, but I’d rather they be with me than get themselves in trouble on their own. Who knows how to get out of the castle, Harry?” Amelia asked, glaring at Harry like he was a criminal. She was not happy about this but felt like she was backed into a corner. She didn’t like that feeling at all.

“I, Neville, Fred, Hermione, and Luna,” he lied, his voice steady despite the subtle shift of his posture as he leaned forward slightly, gripping the edge of the table. Fred had no idea how to get out of the castle, and Harry’s eyes darted briefly across the room toward the red-haired friend. From the looks he was getting from Fred—his narrowed eyes and clenched fists—it was clear Harry was going to get a mouthful from him too. He should have told him earlier that they were planning to leave. A twinge of guilt made Harry’s hand twitch on the napkin he was holding, which he quickly stuffed into his pocket.

“Fine, we leave at six in the morning,” was all she said as she slammed her hand on the table for emphasis before standing and leaving.

“I’m done too,” Harry said, putting his napkin on his half-finished meal before rising abruptly and heading toward the door. He felt the weight of Fred’s stare on his back, but he didn’t dare slow down. As soon as he turned the corner into the hallway, hurried footsteps echoed behind him.

“Oi! Harry!” Fred called, catching up with a determined stride. Before Harry could slip away, Fred grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “Just what exactly do you think you’re playing at, not telling me about this little escapade of yours?” His voice was sharp, but there was a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

Harry raised his hands defensively, stepping back slightly as Fred loomed closer. “I didn’t mean to leave you out! I just... well, it all happened so fast. I didn’t think you'd—"

Fred cut him off with a scoff, crossing his arms. “You didn’t think I’d want in? Harry, come on. Next time, don’t try to play hero alone. We’re a team, remember?”

For a moment, Harry hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, all right. Sorry, Fred.”

Fred clapped him on the back, his expression softening. “Good. Now get some rest; you’re going to need it.”

With that, Fred turned and walked away, leaving Harry to exhale deeply and continue to his room at a slower pace. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as the exhaustion from the day finally began to settle in.

Hphphp

Six in the morning, the groups gathered in the dimly lit hall, their breaths visible in the cool morning air. Flitwick approached briskly, his robes swishing as he carried a small, weathered object in his hand. “I have a portkey for you,” he stated firmly, his sharp gaze scanning the assembled group.

He paused, gripping the portkey tightly while his expression hardened. “Unfortunately, with so many of you, the only way I am leaving for your return is either Fawkes or the house elves.” The tension in the room deepened as he shifted his stance and met their eyes one by one. “If you are going after Death Eaters, I will not put portkeys in their hands,” he added, shaking his head with conviction.

The group exchanged glances, some nodding resolutely while others adjusted their grips on their wands, readying themselves for what lay ahead.

“But you gave us one yesterday,” Sirius said, his brow furrowing as he stepped forward, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his wand. His sharp gaze flicked to the portkey in Flitwick’s hand, as if questioning its very existence.

“I thought about it last night, and realized my folly,” Filius explained, his voice measured as he paced a few steps, his robes stirring faintly. He paused mid-stride to glance over his shoulder, his sharp gaze scanning the group. “I realized that if you are caught and tortured, they could use the portkey to infiltrate the castle. Henceforth, the only way back into Hogwarts will be the house elves or Fawkes.” As he spoke, he tightened his grip on the weathered object, as though to underscore the weight of his decision.

“Before we go, everyone put on a glamour,” Amelia stated, her sharp gaze sweeping across the group as she began layering a subtle charm onto her own appearance.

“Good idea,” Hermione agreed, already reaching for her wand. With a soft incantation, her hair darkened, and her clothes took on a rumpled, soot-streaked look.

The others quickly followed suit, muttering their own spells as they transformed before each other’s eyes. Harry smeared some dirt across his face for added effect while Fred scuffed up the edges of his boots, muttering under his breath about the unnecessary theatrics. Luna, ever meticulous, added a touch of ash to the ends of her hair, tilting her head as if judging her reflection in an invisible mirror.

Amelia nodded approvingly, adjusting her now-threadbare cloak. “Let’s not just look the part,” she said firmly. “Move like you belong here. Heads down, voices low, and stay alert. We can’t afford to draw attention.”

The group exchanged brief glances before stepping into motion, their altered appearances blending seamlessly into the grim surroundings as they prepared for what lay ahead.

Amelia stepped forward, her movements deliberate as she reached for the portkey. With a nod of agreement, she grasped the weathered object, holding the long rope aloft for everyone to grab on to. Her firm yet calm demeanor seemed to steady the resolve of the group, and as the others stepped closer, there was a subtle shift—a readiness settling in the air as wands and courage alike were tightened in hand.

Hermione tightened her grip on the rope, her knuckles whitening as the portkey began to hum with faint energy. Luna glanced at Harry and offered a reassuring nod, while Fred adjusted his stance, readying himself for the inevitable jolt. Neville muttered a spell under his breath, preparing for whatever lay ahead. The adults were just as prepared.

The moment the portkey activated, and the floor vanished beneath their feet. They landed in London with a sharp thud, their wands were drawn as they scanned the surroundings, alert for any sign of danger. Having exhausted Glasgow yesterday, their resolve hardened as they set out for what London had in store. Their brief foray into it yesterday only whetted their appetite for information.

London wasn’t in any better shape than Glasgow had been, but the sheer density of people painted a stark contrast. The countryside had emptied into the city, creating a patchwork of desperation and ingenuity. As the group moved cautiously through the streets, their wands drawn, they observed the bustle of survival. Neville whispered a detection spell, his wand glowing faintly as he scanned for threats, while Hermione’s sharp eyes caught sight of children darting between shadows, their faces pale but determined.

Occasionally, the group paused to assess their surroundings. Fred adjusted the position of his pack, his face set with grim determination, while Luna lingered a moment to observe a woman bartering fiercely over a bundle of food, her voice rising against the quiet murmurs of the crowd. Harry led the way, his grip tightening on his wand as the streets opened into a makeshift market, where the air buzzed with whispers and the occasional shout. Fires crackled sporadically, casting fleeting warmth against the biting wind, while the shadows of skyscrapers loomed overhead like silent sentinels.

Instead of a tent city, people were living in skyscrapers. The lower floors and tube tunnels had become makeshift shelters; the walls lined with hurriedly nailed wooden panels and salvaged materials. Storefronts were transformed into bustling hubs, with families gathered around small fires.

The absence of electricity had given rise to an eerie yet resourceful atmosphere; the streets glowed faintly from scattered bonfires, their warmth a fleeting comfort against the biting cold. Survival instincts honed, people worked tirelessly to build, barter, and protect what little they had. Amidst the chaos, the Londoners had forged small pockets of resilience, drawing strength from their shared determination to endure.

“Well, let’s get to talking to people,” Amelia said, looking at her group. “We’ll split up. Harry, you’re with Sirius. Hermione, you’re with me. Andi, with Fred. Tonks, you take Neville and Luna.” She tightened her cloak against the cold wind and gestured toward the nearest cluster of shelters. “Start by checking with the families taking refuge in the lower levels of the skyscrapers. See if they’ve noticed anything unusual nearby.”

“You got it, boss,” Tonks said, saluting sharply in a mocking gesture.

Sirius and Harry started off to the north and started talking to the people in one of the skyscrapers. It was once a nice building, but the glass windows were now dull with neglect. The sun still reflected off the windows and made it bright in the winter chill. Sirius walked in the building like he owned the place, even if he was glamoured to look like he belonged there.

They went up to a man who looked like he needed a drink. He was cleanish, but his eyes were tired. “Hello,” Harry said, coming up to him with a roll from breakfast. He held it out to the man. “Hungry?” he asked the man.

The man hesitated, glancing around nervously before taking the roll. Sirius, noticing the man's unease, crouched down to his level and scanned the surroundings, as though assuring him of some measure of safety.

“Yeah,” the man said, taking the roll warily and glancing over his shoulder. He adjusted his coat nervously, his fingers twitching as though they longed to clutch something more substantial than the meager bread. “What do you want?”

“Information,” Sirius said, squatting down next to the man. “We’re looking for rumors about people disappearing. We’re trying to stop them from doing that. We think we know who’s doing it, but we need to find them,” he stated, peering into the man’s eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flask, offering it to the man. “Drink, if you need it. We’re here to help.”

“Sirius,” Harry hissed, glancing uneasily at the narrow hallways and the shadows shifting beyond the broken windows. He tugged at Sirius’s sleeve, his voice low, almost a whisper. “We don’t have time for this.”

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, a faint smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “Relax, Harry,” he replied, his tone calm yet firm. He turned his attention back to the man, who had already taken the flask with trembling hands. The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed hard as he gulped down the liquid, clutching the flask as though it were salvation itself.

The distant sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the stairwell, causing Harry to whip around, his wand already sliding into his palm. Sirius, unfazed, raised a hand to steady him, his eyes never leaving the man before him. “Drink up,” Sirius said smoothly, his voice laced with quiet authority. “And start talking. You know something, don’t you?”

The man wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, his hands shaking as he thrust the empty flask back toward Sirius. “Maybe,” he muttered. His gaze darted toward the cracked ceiling, where faint creaks suggested movement above. “But if I say anything... they’ll come for me.”

Sirius leaned in closer, his glamoured features shadowed by the dim light filtering through the grime-streaked windows. “Not if we find them first,” he said, his voice dropping into a low growl. “Tell us where to start. I swear, they won’t lay a finger on you.”

“There’s a group of them that hangs out down in The Tower,” the man whispered, his voice barely audible over the faint creaks above. His eyes darted nervously to the shadows as if expecting something to emerge.

“As in The Tower?” Harry whispered back, his grip on his wand tightening instinctively. He shifted closer to Sirius, his gaze scanning the dark corners of the hall. A chill ran down his spine, but he forced himself to stay steady.

“What is The Tower?” Sirius asked, his tone sharp as he stood up and turned toward Harry, his glamoured appearance taking on an air of command.

“The Tower of London,” Harry explained, his voice low but urgent, his eyes flicking toward the distant sound of movement. As if on cue, a sudden crash echoed from above, sending a cascade of dust raining down on them. Harry instinctively crouched, raising his wand, while Sirius reached for his own, his expression hardening.

“We need to move,” Sirius muttered, his voice tense but composed as he pulled Harry toward the stairwell. “But first, you—” He turned abruptly back to the man, pointing at him with an air of authority. “You’re coming with us. You’ll show us exactly where they are.”

“We don’t need him to do that,” Harry said as they ran out of the building, his breath quickening with each step. He tightened his grip on his wand as if preparing for whatever awaited them. “I know where the Tower of London is. Everyone knows where it is. It’s quite famous. They picked one of the strongest buildings in the city.”

Sirius nodded sharply, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of pursuit, his steps purposeful and unrelenting as he led the way through the shadowy streets. “Alright, let’s find the others, and see what they found. We’ll take him back to Hogwarts,” he said, looking at the man who was still sipping on his flask.

“Sirius, he’s a drunk. He won’t pull his own weight,” Harry protested, darting a glance behind them as their hurried footsteps echoed through the narrow street. His grip on his wand tightened as he scanned the shadows for signs of pursuit. Though the alley remained empty, unease itched at the back of his neck.

“We don’t have time for this,” Sirius shot back, his tone clipped as he pulled the man forward with a firm jerk of his arm. The flask clattered to the ground, its metallic ring slicing through the quiet night. Sirius didn’t even flinch. “Keep moving,” he ordered, his sharp gaze flicking between the dimly lit buildings around them.

Suddenly, a faint rustling emerged from a darkened alley ahead. Harry’s heart leapt into his throat as he swung his wand toward the sound, but Sirius raised a hand to halt him. “Don’t panic,” Sirius muttered, his voice low and steady. “Eyes forward, Harry. We’re too exposed here.”

As they neared the corner, Sirius yanked the man into a quickened pace, his steps purposeful and loud against the cobblestones. Harry fell into step beside him, his wand ready, his senses on high alert. A distant sound—like a door slamming—echoed down the street, spurring them to increase their pace.

They didn’t slow until the meeting place came into view, its faint light a beacon against the oppressive shadows of the city.

“Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll get him to Poppy. She’ll sober him up and we’ll see that he works,” Sirius said, waving his concern away as he grabbed the man by the arm and hauled him forward with a firm tug.

“What if I don’t want to come with you?” the man said, glancing nervously back toward the flask as if debating whether to make a grab for it. Sirius tightened his grip on the man’s arm, his jaw clenching impatiently.

“You don’t have a choice,” Sirius muttered, giving him a firm pull forward.

Harry, meanwhile, scanned their surroundings, his wand steady but his eyes darting to every shadow that flickered in the dim streetlights.

“I promised to protect you from the Death Eaters, and that’s what I’m going to do,” Sirius said, his voice low but resolute as he tightened his grip on the man’s arm, practically dragging him forward. Their hurried steps echoed in rhythm against the cobblestones. Nearby, a faint creaking noise broke the oppressive stillness, and Harry whipped around, wand raised, scanning for movement.

Ahead, Amelia and Hermione emerged from the shadows at the meeting place, their anxious faces illuminated by the sun. Sirius raised a hand in greeting but didn’t slow his pace. “We have to keep moving,” he barked as they closed the distance, his tone brooking no argument.

Suddenly, a metallic clatter echoed behind them. Harry spun yet again, his heart hammering, only to spot a rusted can rolling across the alley, nudged by a scraggly rat scurrying into the darkness. “It’s nothing,” Sirius snapped, yanking the man forward with another firm tug.

Harry turned back, shaking his head. He adjusted his grip on his wand and fell into step beside Sirius, his senses still heightened as the group pushed closer to their destination.

“This isn’t going to end well,” Harry said, hurrying after his dogfather. He didn’t like how Sirius was acting. Was it because he was involved in the investigation? He felt bad for the man, but Sirius was right. If the Death Eaters knew about the man, he was in danger. He’d be safter at Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

“Sirius, the man doesn’t want to come,” Amelia said sharply as Sirius yanked their reluctant ‘friend’ along, the man's heels digging into the cobblestones to resist being pulled forward. His protests grew louder, drawing the attention of passersby. Harry glanced nervously around, scanning for any signs of trouble. A street urchin stopped mid-scurry to gawk at the noisy group as Amelia stepped closer and grabbed Sirius’s arm. “We’re creating a scene,” she hissed, her tone firm, but her eyes darting uneasily at the curious onlookers.

Sirius reluctantly loosened his grip but did not let him go. “But he has information as to where the Death Eaters are,” he said, gripping the man’s arm more tightly and pulling him back toward the group as the man stumbled over the uneven street. He just knew they needed this man.

Harry exhaled sharply, his frustration palpable as he tugged at his collar. “I told you, I know where the Tower of London is,” he repeated, his tone crisp. He shifted his weight, rubbing his temple as his eyes darted toward the man now visibly trembling under Sirius's grip. A sound came from the side of them as a stranger passed by, drawing Harry's attention momentarily before he returned his focus to the tense confrontation. He took a step forward, brushing his hand against the wand in his pocket, readying himself for any unforeseen chaos. “We need to move, and we don’t need more distractions,” Harry added firmly, his voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade.

“Let me go,” the man stated, yanking on his trapped arm, trying to gain leverage. His frantic movements sent a loose stone skittering across the street.

“Let him go, Sirius. We’re not kidnappers,” Amelia stated, shaking her head at the impetuous man.

“But, what if the Death Eaters come after him. I gave him my word that I’d protect him,” the dogman said, keeping his grip on the man’s arm. He didn’t want to break his word; it was all he had left.

“He doesn’t want your protection, that doesn’t reflect on you,” she said, pinching her nose in frustration.

“Let me go,” the man said again, this time in desperation, his voice cracking. He twisted his body sharply, trying to wrench free, his shoes sliding against the cobblestones as he threw his weight backward. “I told you what I know, now let me go!” he cried, his eyes darting frantically around as if searching for an escape route.

“Fine, get killed then,” Sirius said, letting the man go.

The man stumbled as he fell to the ground, scrambling to his feet with frantic energy. He shot a panicked glance over his shoulder before bolting, his footsteps echoing sharply against the buildings as he weaved through passersby like a cornered animal on the run.

Hermione frowned and glanced around, her hands instinctively clutching her wand as she scanned the area for any sign of Tonks, Fred, and Luna. The bustling street seemed indifferent to their dilemma, but her sharp eyes caught the familiar silhouette of Andi and Neville approaching from the distance. She nudged Harry, her tone urgent yet low, “Do you see them? We need to regroup quickly.”

“As I said that man said the Death Eaters were in the Tower of London,” Harry said, his voice low, as he turned his head slightly to glance at the street where the man had disappeared. His fingers tightened reflexively around his wand, the tension in his posture unmistakable. That meant they were in the area. They needed to stay on guard.

“That does make sense,” Hermione said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “It is one of the strongest buildings in the country. There are blueprints of it from the archives. I’m sure we can get in there,” she added, her tone confident as she glanced at the group for their reactions. She knew the area and could go and get the blueprints easily. However, she didn’t want to go alone. If there were Death Eaters around, she wanted to take someone with her. Harry would be her first choice, but she’d let Madam Bones handle it.

“That’s a good idea,” Harry said, knowing she would know where to go. She was better versed on London than he was. She had had more academic field trips than he had with her school and her parents.

Hermione blushed and said, “I do have those every now and then.”

“You’re brilliant,” he said, beaming at her.

Amelia just smiled at the two teenagers and said, “Andi, take Hermione and go and find those blueprints. We’ll take them back with us to Hogwarts and make plans.” She adjusted her cloak with a swift motion and scanned the bustling street for any lingering threats.

Meanwhile, Hermione tightened her grip on her wand, her gaze sharp as she nodded decisively at Andi. The group moved efficiently, each member falling into step with a palpable sense of urgency, their eyes darting to every shadow as the looming tension of their mission pressed upon them.

“Of course, it’s not that far from here,” Andi said, her eyes scanning the surroundings as she calculated their route. She beckoned Hermione to follow her towards a narrow alley, their robes swishing as they moved with purpose. With a quick glance to ensure no one was watching, Andi gripped Hermione’s arm firmly and prepared to Apparate. The sharp crack of their departure echoed faintly, leaving the bustling crowd oblivious to their swift disappearance.

It was then that Tonks, Fred, and Luna emerged abruptly from an alley nearby, their footsteps quick and purposeful. The sudden movement jolted everyone’s nerves, and in a flash, wands were drawn and aimed, a crackle of tension sparking in the air as their instincts took over.

“Whoa, what in Merlin’s name?” Tonks exclaimed, stepping back instinctively, her wand flashing into her hand as she scanned the group for potential threats. Her sharp gaze darted to Fred and Luna, ready to act at the slightest signal of danger.

“Sorry, we just found out where the Death Eaters are located and it’s left us jumpy,” Harry said, lowering his wand with a deliberate motion. He stepped forward cautiously, his eyes scanning their faces for signs of urgency or alarm, then gestured subtly for the group to regroup closer.

“The Tower of London?” Fred said, a smirk on his lips. Not that he knew where that was, but given the name, he figured it was close.

“Yeah, is that what you found out too?” Sirius asked, stepping forward with a determined stride, his wand at the ready as his sharp eyes scanned the group for confirmation.

“From at least three separate people," Luna said, her gaze sweeping the area as she adjusted her grip on her wand, a faint glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. She shifted her weight slightly, her demeanor calm, yet alert.

“Yeah, Luna has a way of making people talk,” Tonks said with a hint of amazement. She had seen the girl talk a mad man in to giving them information. The man had been madder than a hatter. And she had just walked up to him and started a conversation like he was normal.

“Yeah, she’s weird like that,” Harry said in a kindly manner. He hugged the flighty girl, who preened at him. He didn’t look at her in a romantic sense either. She was like a little sister. He was lament in ever finding a girl. Then again, did he really want to find one right now when his life was so chaotic. Would his life ever not be chaotic? That was something to ponder on.  

“We’ll get those plans and make plans of our own,” Bones said, waiting for Andi and Hermione to come back. “Until then, let’s go ask these people if they want to come back to Hogwarts,” she said, pointing the family that was sitting by a burn barrel. They looked cold and starving.

The group moved cautiously toward the family of five huddled around the burn barrel, their footsteps crunching on the gravel-strewn ground. The crackle of the fire provided the only sound in the tense silence, its flickering light drawing sharp shadows across the faces of the group.

The family looked scruffy and gaunt, as if they hadn't eaten in days, their eyes darting nervously toward the approaching figures. Their clothes were dirty and torn, and the mother clutched her youngest child protectively, her hand trembling slightly. The grandfather coughed harshly, his yellow-tinged skin revealing signs of illness, while the older children shifted uneasily, their bruises suggesting recent conflicts, probably for food.

Bones knelt to their level, her expression softening as she addressed them. “Good evening,” she said gently. “We mean you no harm. Times are bleak, but there’s a place where we can offer you safety and warmth, at a place called Hogwarts. Would you be willing to come with us?” She maintained eye contact with the grandfather and said, “We can cure you.”

The eldest of the family, a gaunt man with hollow cheeks, exchanged a hesitant glance with the woman beside him. She clutched the smallest child close to her chest, her hands trembling from the cold. “Hogwarts,” the man repeated, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Is it safe? Can you really cure me?” He started coughing a hacking cough. There was blood on his hands when he was done.

“It’s safer than this,” Bones replied firmly. “And you’ll have food, shelter, and a chance to rebuild. And yes, we can truly cure you. You will live a while longer. Think of your family.” She looked pointedly at the children, who were shivering in the cold with their threadbare clothes. They didn’t even have shoes in this cold weather. There was garbage wrapped around their feet.

The man hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the others in his ragged group. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “We have no other choice,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. It was too cruel to be prideful.

Tonks extended a reassuring hand to the woman; her usual cheer tempered with compassion. “We’ll take care of you, I promise,” she said. “Let’s get you all out of here.” Her hair started cycling, making the children and adults look on in wonder.

“Yeah, we should tell you that magic is real,” Harry said, pulling out his wand and casting a warming charm on all of them.

They gasped in relief and shock, their breaths visible in the cold air. The youngest child clung tighter to their mother, while the older one shifted closer to her father for warmth. The grandfather attempted to straighten his back, his frailty evident, but his resolve momentarily bolstered. The father hesitated, then extended a trembling hand toward Harry, as if reaching for the hope he desperately needed.

Sirius did one better and conjured robes for them all, his wand moving with swift precision. He handed them out, ensuring even the smallest child could be wrapped warmly. "Here, try these on," he said, his tone brisk yet kind, as he adjusted the robe on the grandfather, who struggled with trembling fingers.

Harry lifted his own wand again, casting a protective charm around the group as Bones scanned the area for any signs of danger. The group worked quickly, their movements purposeful under the cold, flickering light of the fire. They put shoes on all of them, while they waited for Andi and Hermione.

As they began organizing the group for transport, Andi and Hermione reappeared with another sharp crack. They looked winded but resolute, their robes slightly disheveled from Apparating in haste. “What did we miss?” Andi asked, her sharp eyes taking in the scene with her sharp eyes.

“Just offering some hope,” Bones replied with a faint smile. “We’re taking them to Hogwarts.” She put her arm around the woman, who was still shielding her children.

Andi nodded approvingly. “Good. The more unified we are, the better our chances.” It was her intent on grabbing as many children off the streets as necessary. Even if they had to bring the parents.

Hermione stepped forward, her voice steady, “We got the blueprints.” She held up the tube with said items.

“Good,” Amelia said, her gaze sweeping across the group as she assessed their readiness. She then called the house elf Tibby, whose sudden appearance made the family flinch and huddle closer. Amelia crouched down slightly, her tone gentle but firm. “Don’t worry, this is a house elf,” she explained with a reassuring smile, gesturing toward Tibby, who bowed deeply.

“Master and Mistress call Tibby to help!” the elf chirped, snapping its fingers. A faint shimmer of magic surrounded the group as Tibby began organizing their transport, darting about with a purpose that belied its small stature. The children watched cautiously, their curiosity gradually overcoming their fear as Tibby worked quickly to summon additional elves.

“Tibby is going to take us back to Hogwarts,” Fred explained to the children, while Neville went to the youngest child and patting them on the back reassuringly.

“Tibby wills be doing that,” Tibby said, then pointed to the other house elves and added, “Theys wills be doing that as well.” With a sharp snap of Tibby's fingers, the elves sprang into action.

The elves moved with swift efficiency, their small forms weaving between the group like a flurry of magic and purpose. Tibby himself bustled over to the youngest child, gently offering a glowing orb of light to chase away lingering fear. Soon, assignments were given, each elf paired with a family member or child, ensuring no one was left behind. The group, now surrounded by a palpable aura of magic and warmth, began preparing for their transport. Within moments, they were on their way.

Once they were back at Hogwarts and got the family settled and the grandfather in the hospital wing, they went to the Headmaster’s office. They let Flitwick know what they found and went over the blueprints with him. Now the problem was the manpower.

Amelia said, tapping her wand on her leg in agitation. “I have Kingsley, Tonks, and two other men.” She then strode to the large window, gazing out as if to seek inspiration from the wintry grounds below. Turning back to the group, her movements decisive, she added, “They’re skilled, and they’ll follow orders. But we need more.”

“I have Sirius, Harry, Fred, Neville, Hermione, Luna, Andi, and whoever else is willing to fight. However, I really wouldn’t count on anyone else,” Flitwick stated firmly, his small hands gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned forward for emphasis. His sharp gaze flicked around the room, gauging the reactions of those gathered. He knew Sprout wouldn’t like it, her gentle disposition making her reluctant to join any direct confrontation.

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Outside, the wind rattled against the castle windows, a stark reminder of the storm brewing both within and beyond the castle walls.

“There is me and Fleur,” Bill said, putting his arm around his girlfriend and stepping forward with a determined expression. Fleur nodded in agreement a spark of resolve glinting in her eyes.

“I won’t go,” Percy added, adjusting his glasses and glancing toward the window, his tone steady. He straightened his robes as though bracing himself. “I can be of better use here in the castle.” He didn’t feel cowardly, but knew he was justified in his own knowledge of his battle readiness. He was not a fighter.

“We’ll pose it to them at dinner tonight. After the meal, when afters are served. That will give them time to mull it over,” Filius said, standing with a determined air. He hopped down from his chair, his small frame moving briskly toward the door as he adjusted his robes. With a quick flick of his wand, he levitated a stack of documents from the desk, organizing them neatly mid-air before they floated to rest in his arms. He glanced back at the group, his expression resolute, before disappearing through the doorway with purposeful strides.

Amelia nodded briskly, her determination evident as she gathered her coat and wand, striding purposefully after Filius toward the door. She glanced back at the group, her voice firm yet encouraging, “Let’s get to work. Time is not on our side.”

Hphphp

That night at dinner they posed the question to the students and the parents. They got ten more volunteers, the rest wanted nothing to do with the excursion.

“We are safe here,” one person said, standing on the bench to be heard.  

“Why bring trouble down on us?” another person said, waving their hand as if they were causing trouble unnecessarily.  

“Why are the children fighting?” Sprout asked, her voice rising slightly as she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her gaze darting to the faces gathered around her as if searching for understanding or agreement.

“Pomona, look at how many we have. We have no choice but to include them," Filus said, from his chair at the Staff Table. He looked at the people who would be going, who all nodded, then turned back to Sprout. "Besides, they know a way out of the castle. They will simply follow. Harry has Fawkes," he continued, his voice steady but laced with urgency, "and he will bring him to the battle. You know how phoenixes are.” He gestured firmly, his hand slicing through the air, as though cutting down any lingering doubts.  

“I simply do not agree with letting children fight for no reason,” she said one more time, her voice firm as she placed her hands on the table in front of her, emphasizing her determination. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze sweeping across the room, as though daring anyone to challenge her stance. Protecting the children was paramount—they were the future.

Harry pushed back his chair with a determined scrape, the legs grating against the stone floor as he stood abruptly. “You are not my mum,” he declared, his voice steady but resolute. He leaned slightly over the table, his gaze sweeping across the room to ensure all eyes were on him. “Hogwarts picked me to be Deputy Headmaster of this school. That is a grown-up job. If I can do that, I can go on this raid.” His hands clenched into fists, his tone unwavering as he stared her down, his posture firm with a mixture of defiance and resolve.

“I won’t say anymore, other than I don’t agree with it,” she said stiffly. She knew he outranked her. She put her nose in the air but looked away from those that would argue with her.

“Thank you,” he said, sitting back down. He didn’t like arguing over this, but he was going on that raid. They had no choice.

“If it makes you feel better, Pomona, they will be kept out of the fight as much as possible,” Amelia stated, her tone resolute as she stood and behind her chair. Her hands moved to clasp behind her back, a measured rhythm in her steps betraying the heavy calculations running through her mind. She paused mid-stride and turned toward Sprout, her gaze sharpening. “We’ll ensure they stay in noncombat roles – like evacuating prisoners or running essential errands,” she added firmly, her fingers tapping briefly against the edge of the nearest chair as though punctuating her intent.

“That does make me feel better, thank you,” Sprout said, sighing in relief. She got up and left the Great Hall.

Amelia also left and hurried back to the Headmaster’s office, her footsteps echoing briskly through the empty corridors. The flickering torchlight illuminated her determined expression as she pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. Crossing the room swiftly, she reached for the stack of blueprints spread across the large oak desk, her fingers tracing the intricate lines of the tower’s passages. She needed these to finalize the strategies for the raid. Briefly, her gaze flickered towards where Fawkes used to rest when this was Dumbledore’s office. “Would the phoenix join them in the fight?” she wondered, her thoughts racing as she rolled up the maps and tucked them securely under her arm.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

They had planned all night long and then slept for the next day. They were going to attack at night. They gathered in the crypts beneath Saint Paul’s Cathedral, the arches above them etched with hurried runes and muffled prayers. This was their launch point: the last sanctum the Death Eaters didn’t know about. The irony wasn’t lost on them—waging war beneath a house of peace.

They had cased the Tower of London hours before, casting the human revealing spell on every inch they could from the shadows and staying just outside the wards. Bill was priceless in this respect—his wand flicked with expert precision as faint blue light shimmered across ancient stones, revealing lingering footprints and ghostly echoes.

They slipped from archway to archway, ducking behind pillars as the moonlight caught on their cloaks. Footsteps echoed above; a guard perhaps, or worse—a Death Eater patrol. Fred signaled, and they froze, barely daring to breathe. When the sounds faded, they pressed on, nerves taut as drawn wire. Bill gestured urgently, and the group darted beneath a crumbling arch just as a sentry’s shadow stretched across the mossy floor.

Consulting the blueprints, they pinpointed the survivors’ location—the southern side of the Tower—and marked the Death Eaters clustered around the central keep and the bridge. There were more present than anyone had dared imagine: shadowy forms moving restlessly in the torchlight, their voices echoing through the stone corridors.

Fred pressed his back against the wall and peered around a column, catching sight of two masked figures pacing with wands drawn. Bill raised a hand, signaling for silence, and the group melted into the deeper shadows, every heart hammering. Hermione whispered a concealment charm as Neville fumbled with his wand, nearly dropping it before steadying his grip.

Suddenly, a sharp clatter rang out—someone had kicked a stray pebble. The Death Eaters spun, alert, wands snapping up. Instantly, Tonks swept Fred and Luna behind a statue, while Bill threw up a quick muffling ward. The rebels held their breath as the Death Eaters advanced, boots thudding closer.

After what felt like an eternity, the enemy scouts moved on, their suspicion not quite piqued. Harry gave a silent nod, and they crept forward, darting from alcove to alcove, drawing ever nearer to the cluster of survivors—and the looming threat that waited between.

Sweat beaded on Harry’s brow, the anticipation mingling with adrenaline. The city slept above, oblivious. Below, each movement was a silent gamble, each breath a risk as they mapped out their approach and planned their next move, knowing that one misstep could mean disaster. Bill knew where they needed to be and what they needed to do, and with a final nod, they slipped away, hearts pounding, into the darkness beneath the city.

When it was time, they crept to the tunnel under the Thames, hearts pounding, senses on high alert, hoping desperately that the Death Eaters hadn’t discovered this route. Shadows shifted along the damp stone walls as they moved, wands held at the ready, every footstep muffled but tense with expectation.

Suddenly, a skitter of rats sent Hermione spinning, wand flashing, but it was only vermin—this time. Fred and Tonks pressed ahead, checking corners with practiced flicks of their wrists. They reached a chamber cluttered with crates and abandoned tourist paraphernalia. Fred kicked aside a toppled sign, scanning the gloom for movement.

Amelia and Andromeda pressed on, wands at the ready, sweeping the narrow path ahead as they shepherded the volunteers forward. The men and women they brought with them were skittish and untrained, flinching at every echo and darting glance. Kingsley brought up the rear with Bill and Fleur, casting quick detection charms at routine intervals.

A distant metallic clang sent a ripple of panic through the group, and Andromeda spun, firing a silent stunning spell at a suspicious shadow—only to reveal a scattering of startled rats. Without missing a beat, Amelia herded the group onward, murmuring orders, while Bill paused to whisper a shield charm across a side tunnel, just in case. Every footstep was a test of nerve, every decision carried the weight of their survival as they moved deeper into the labyrinth, bracing for the next threat lurking in the darkness.

Still, no sign of Death Eaters, but the air was thick with the threat of ambush. Harry, jaw set, motioned for the others to hurry. They lit candles with whispered incantations, their flickering light casting wild shadows on the walls. Quickly, Neville and Bill muscled crates against the doors, securing their retreat.

The crypt’s air was heavy with incense and breath—twenty-odd rebels waiting on the edge of a stolen hour. Amelia stood rigid as the strategy splintered into roles. “Evacuation detail takes the south tunnels,” she announced, her wand tapping over the map. “Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville—you’ll lead the survivor extraction. No deviation. Understood?”

Harry didn’t flinch, but the muscle in his jaw ticked. “Understood.”

She met his gaze and held it. “This isn’t a slight. It’s trust. You’ll do the most good getting them out.” It wasn’t a lie—but it wasn’t the whole truth.

Hermione laid a hand on Harry’s arm before he could speak again. Fred gave him a half-hearted thumbs-up from across the chamber. Tonks shot him a look that plainly said play along—for now. Sirius was giving him a look of pride and pity. It was a disconcerting look.

When the groups dispersed, Harry crouched beside a dusty crate, checking the gear one more time—fingers trembling as he snapped open buckles and counted potions. Footsteps echoed beyond the chamber; someone—Hermione, maybe—darted past in a blur, wand drawn. Neville clattered into a pile of crates, sending a tin cup spinning across the stone floor. With a muttered curse, Harry lunged to catch it before it hit the ground, the clang dangerously loud in the hush.

He stuffed bandages and vials into his satchel, eyes darting to the shadowed entrance as Fred and Tonks slipped out, cloaks swirling behind them. Only Hermione really knew how to use the first aid items, but Harry slung the pack over his shoulder, determination hardening. Every second counted now—every sound, a possible threat. He drew his wand, heart pounding, and nodded once to himself before sliding along the damp wall toward the rendezvous point.

Luna knelt beside him, adjusting the straps of her satchel. “You know we’ll end up in the middle of it.” There was a finality in her voice.

Neville gave a grim nod. “Yeah. When the time’s right.” he seemed to know what he was talking about too.

“We’ve seen what they’re doing in that Tower,” Harry murmured. “And no one gets left behind. Not the survivors. Not the fighters. Not us.” He knew he’d get drawn in the fight. It was just a matter of time.

They wouldn’t break the mission. But if the sky turned red... they’d be ready to burn their names into the battle.

They sprinted through the south tunnels, boots thudding in sync with their racing hearts, weaving between fallen stones and flickering torchlight. The air shivered with magic as they neared the chamber where the survivors were kept—faces pale behind grimy bars, hope flickering like candlelight. Harry skidded to the warded entrance, wand raised, muttering the counterspell Bill had drilled into him.

With a hiss and a shimmer, the wards dropped.

Without hesitation, Neville lunged forward, wrenching the door open as Luna sent a stunning spell hurtling at a patrolling guard, dropping them before they could sound the alarm. Hermione and Luna broke right, wands blazing as they fended off hexes from the shadows, while Harry and Neville hustled the weak and frightened survivors into a huddled, shuffling line.

Suddenly, a violent explosion rocked the tunnel, the stone floor bucking beneath their feet. Debris rained down—dust, shards of rock, the echoing thunder of conflict surging closer. Harry barked orders, pushing survivors onward, barely pausing as a jet of red light sizzled past his ear. Hermione conjured a shield, deflecting a barrage of curses, and Luna blasted a hole in a barricade with a wordless incantation.

They raced forward, chaos erupting behind them, determined to reach safety before the next catastrophe struck.

Then it came.

A snap across the enchanted comms—“East flank falling—Tonks down—ward rupture—they’re pulling in dementors—we need backup, now!”

Harry froze.

Luna’s eyes narrowed, dreaminess gone. “We go.”

Neville nodded once, low and furious. “Let’s move.”

“No!” barked a voice—Amelia, distorted by the connection. “Extraction only. Do not engage. That’s an order.”

Harry stared down the corridor, jaw clenched. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

He didn’t wait.

Harry called for Fawkes, the phoenix materializing in a blaze of gold and scarlet, wings unfurling with a triumphant cry. Survivors clung tightly as Fawkes whisked them three by three to safety at Hogwarts. But Harry, Neville, Luna, and Hermione didn’t pause to watch the rescues—they plunged back toward the chaos, boots pounding through rubble and clouds of dust.

Spells streaked overhead in a deadly lattice of color as they came onto the battle. A jet of purple light slammed into the wall behind Harry, showering sparks across his back. Luna ducked, sliding beneath a collapsing archway, her wand flicking with practiced precision to shatter a Death Eater’s shield. Neville barreled forward, shouldering aside a masked assailant with a grunt, and Hermione’s voice rang out, sharp as a whip, as she hurled a freezing charm that iced the floor beneath their pursuers.

They pressed on—fighting, dodging, pulling each other up—driven by urgency, by fury, by the knowledge that every second counted. The Tower trembled as another explosion rocked the foundation, and the taste of magic and fear was thick in the air as they sprinted toward the embattled east flank, to where the Tower itself seemed to breathe dark magic.

And when Amelia turned in battle to see silver light erupting from beneath the bridge—the Patronus of a stag, then a hare, then two more creatures slicing through the gloom—she realized what she’d always known:

They weren’t children anymore. They were the reason the story hadn’t ended yet.

Harry and Neville cast their Patronus again, silvery forms crashing into the ranks of oncoming dementors and scattering them like shadows beneath a torch. Without missing a beat, Harry pivoted, hurling a Stunner that knocked a Death Eater clean off their feet, while Neville’s shield charm crackled into existence, absorbing a barrage of curses. Luna vaulted over loose stones, sending a Disarming Spell spinning through the smoky air; Hermione shattered a wall with a word, bringing down rubble and blocking two masked attackers from advancing.

Suddenly, the battle spun into a frenzy—spells whistling, debris flying as the defenders pressed the advantage. Neville swept his wand in a wide arc, conjuring thorny vines that snared the boots of their foes. Harry ducked behind a shattered pillar, then darted out, launching a volley of red bolts that sent more Death Eaters scrambling for cover. Above it all, the crack of magic echoed, each spell cast with desperate intent.

They weren’t holding back. They were firing deadly spells, no quarter given. Each second was a clash of will and survival as the chaos of the Tower blazed around them.

Spells ricocheted from stone, scorching runes into the ancient walls. Neville’s shield charm snapped up just in time to catch a jet of sickly green—he staggered, boots slipping in rubble, but held firm. Luna was beside him, hair wild, voice sharp as she sent a twisting spiral of blue light into a cluster of masked figures. Someone screamed.

The floor shook again—a deeper, more ominous rumble—and Harry felt the whole east flank groan beneath them. He caught sight of Hermione in the doorway, wand aloft, face pale but resolute. She nodded, once, and vanished back into the darkness.

“Left!” Neville shouted. Harry dove, feeling the heat of a blasting curse singe his cloak. The lion Patronus bound ahead, teeth bared, scattering dementors like crows in a storm.

Death Eaters regrouped, voices hoarse with panic and fury. A tall figure in black sent a ribbon of red fire snaking toward Luna; she twisted aside, laughter bright and brittle as she retaliated with a jinx that sent the attacker sprawling.

For a breathless moment, the defenders pressed forward—three bodies, one purpose. Harry’s heart hammered. The Tower was screaming around them, but he could still hear Ron’s voice in his memory: “We finish this together.” And as the next volley of dark curses came hissing through the battered air, he knew—no matter the outcome—they had already changed the story.

Suddenly Sirius was there, his wand flashing in the night sky. He was dancing around the spell fire and laughing. He killed the man in front of him and then pranced away. “We got this, Harry,” he told his godson.

“Sirius, get serious,” Harry said, not sure why his godfather was acting like this. Was he trying to get killed? He was so serious before, now he was acting like it was a game.

Sirius only grinned wider, blue eyes alight with something wild and unbroken. “Sometimes, Harry, laughter’s all that stands between us and the dark.” He flicked his wand, sending a crackling arc of electricity over the heads of three Death Eaters, who ducked and scattered. Sirius gave chase.

In the flickering glow, Harry caught the briefest glimpse of Fred flanking the far wall, wand drawn, his freckled face fierce and unyielding as he cut down a masked adversary with a silent hex.

The chaos roared on. Amelia vaulted the broken balustrade, landing beside Harry, breathless but undeterred. “We need to hold the corridor,” she gasped, already setting her jaw. “Hermione’s working on something—I saw her, she’s almost there.”

“What is she doing?” Harry cried, all the while blocking a spray of crimson curses.

“Something with the old runes—something in the stone!” Amelia replied, deflecting a jet of purple light that sizzled into sparks.

“Alright, do we send them that way?” Harry asked, his wand flashing.

Amelia hesitated only long enough to glance down the corridor—a boiling shadow mass where Dementors pressed like a living tide. “If we can buy Hermione a minute more, she’ll trigger it,” she said, seizing Harry’s shoulder. “We just have to hold.”

A cold wind swept through as another Patronus—Luna’s shimmering hare—leaped between falling stones, scattering the encroaching darkness with light.

Fred sprinted to join them, casting shield charms that sparked against the floor. “They’re regrouping on the stairs!” he shouted, face streaked with grime and determination. “We can’t let them flank us.”

Harry nodded, adrenaline sharpening his senses. “Block them off—force everything through the bottleneck. Neville, with me. Amelia, Fred—cover the right side. Luna, keep the Dementors back!”

Their spells wove together in the smoky air: silver and gold, violet and emerald, each one a promise, a refusal to yield. The old stones thrummed beneath Harry’s feet, as though echoing the hope that still burned within them.

Somewhere behind the press of bodies and magic, he caught another glimpse of Hermione—her face pale with concentration, wand etching runes in midair, the ancient script glowing brighter with every stroke. For the first time since the fighting began, Harry dared to believe: they might just hold the line.

A blinding flash erupted as Hermione’s runes flared; several Death Eaters caught within the sigils crumpled where they stood, their masks tumbling from lifeless faces. Hermione staggered back, wand clutched in white-knuckled fingers, shock etched across her features. Before she could falter, Amelia caught her by the elbow, steadying her.

The shock of what had happened rippled through the corridor. For a heartbeat, even the Dementors seemed to recoil, the shadow-tide hesitating in the wake of Hermione’s unleashed power. Harry’s chest clenched with mingled grief and pride—he knew Hermione would bear those deaths, even in the rightness of war, but there was no time to falter.

Then spells exploded overhead as Sirius vaulted a toppled bench, dueling two masked opponents at once with fierce, whirling strokes. On the far side, Fred hurled a string of stunners, forcing the enemy to retreat toward the pulsing trap.

In that instant, Hermione’s expression steeled—she nodded to Harry, then spun to cast a protective barrier as another barrage of curses screamed down the corridor.

“Go, Hermione!” Luna called, her voice ringing clear as a bell. The hare Patronus darted forward, scattering straggling shades, while Neville barked a terse incantation and conjured a wall of fire to block the stairwell, forcing the Death Eaters toward the runed stones pulsing with Hermione’s magic.

Amelia’s shield flickered under a barrage of spells, but she held firm, her eyes flinty with resolve. Fred ducked beside her, breathless. “That was it, wasn’t it? Whatever she did—it’s working!”

“Hold steady!” Harry shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos. He felt a strange calm settle over him, the kind that comes only at the heart of the storm. The ground seemed to vibrate with the ancient magic Hermione had awakened, a resonance that lent strength to every spell they cast.

The corridor narrowed with smoke and noise, but in that crucible, their unity blazed—each friend covering the others’ blind spots, each spell cast not in fear but in defiance. The Death Eaters, sensing the turning tide, hesitated, and in that instant, hope surged.

Hermione, now standing tall amid the fading glow of her runes, turned and caught Harry’s eye. There was pain there, and sorrow—but also unwavering determination. She nodded once, and he knew: they would not break.

With one final, resounding effort, the group drove their adversaries back, the walls thrumming with the memory of ancient defenses and the promise of a dawn yet to come.

Suddenly, the last of the Death Eaters faltered, exchanging hurried glances before making a desperate dash for escape. In a flurry of cloaks and sparks, they Disapparated one by one, the sharp cracks echoing through the corridor. Spell fire snapped at their heels as Fred and Sirius hurled stunning spells after them, but the enemy vanished, leaving only the acrid haze and a ringing, uncertain silence in their wake.

“Dammit,” Harry said, upset that they would just cut and run like that. He didn’t want the enemy out there like that. However, their numbers were greatly reduced and there was no population to recruit from.

“It’s for the best,” Sirius said, coming up to him and clapping him on the back. He kept his wand at the ready. His eyes were darting everywhere. Now he was serious, go figure.

Amelia pressed forward, eyes sharp as she scanned the battered group. “Where are the evacuees?” she demanded, already moving to count heads, her wand still raised defensively. Kingsley limped toward the wall, bracing himself as he staunched the bleeding from his leg, while a volunteer staggered past, cradling a broken arm.

Fred darted down the smoke-hazed corridor, checking alcoves for stragglers, while Luna hovered near Hermione, both ready to cast should any threat reappear. The air still crackled with residual magic—every sense strained for danger, every friend moving, searching, making sure no one had been left behind.

“We sent them off with Fawkes. You needed the help,” Harry said, not the least bit upset that they had abandoned their mission.

“At least you saw them safe first,” Tonks said, watching her mother come up to them.

“That was not a fight I want to do again,” Andi said, having been fighting with Kingsley in another part of the Tower.

Tonks offered her mother a wry half-smile, brushing dust from her robes. “None of us do, Mum. But we held. That’s what matters.”

The group gathered their breath, exchanging glances heavy with exhaustion and gratitude. Hermione moved to Kingsley’s side, gently examining his injured leg. “You should sit,” she murmured, conjuring a makeshift stool from fractured stone.

Fred surveyed the corridor, wand still gripped tight, his voice softer than usual. “What now? We can’t just stand here waiting for them to regroup.”

Harry straightened, the weight of leadership pressing anew. “We secure the wounded and check the floors above. If they’re gone for now, we need to make sure they don’t come back for anything—or anyone.”

Sirius nodded in grim agreement. “We’ll sweep in pairs. No one alone.”

As they moved to organize, the silence felt fragile, as though the castle itself were catching its breath with them. For a heartbeat, the battered defenders allowed themselves to hope: not only for victory, but for the small, precious chance to rebuild.

Chapter Text

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Hphphp

Amelia paced along the windows, arms folded, scanning the dusky grounds as the others settled into the empty classroom. Parchment shuffled as Percy laid out folders, and Pomona adjusted the lanterns to cast a steady glow over the table, which was hastily laden with pumpkin juice, sandwiches, and a plate of biscuits. Headmaster Flitwick, standing on a stack of books at his usual chair, peered over his spectacles at the gathering.

“Did anyone recognize any of the Death Eaters?” Amelia asked, her voice cutting through the quiet as she finally took her seat, quill poised to jot notes.

Harry rubbed at a smudge on his glasses as he spoke. “I think I got Yaxley, but other than that, no, I don’t think I recognized any of them.” He set his glasses back on his nose, glancing around the table for confirmation.

Sirius shook his head, flicking remnants of dust from his wand with a practiced flourish before tucking it away. “I don’t think I knew any of them either,” he said, glancing at Hermione as if searching for validation. “I think they all died with the virus.” He shifted in his seat and reached for a biscuit, breaking it in half with a distracted snap, his gaze lingering on the window as if expecting shadows to flicker across the glass.

“Can we be sure of that?” Bill asked, looking at Flitwick like he would have the answer.

“We could check the Book of Students. It should show if they are dead or not. But only those that attended the school. Those that are foreign will not show,” the Headmaster stated. He stood on his chair and reached behind him and retrieved the book from a pile of books that he had brought with him. Just in case.

Hermione glanced down at her notes, tapping her quill thoughtfully on the parchment before finally speaking. “With all but 22% of the population dead, not to mention all the ones killed afterwards, it shouldn’t be hard to believe that they are dead.” She jotted a sharp line across the page, then looked up and scanned the anxious faces around the table, her hand pausing over the inkpot as she waited for a response.

“There is that,” Harry agreed, offering Hermione a warm smile as he leaned forward, elbows on the table. He drummed his fingers nervously against the wood, the sound soft but insistent in the quiet classroom. His gaze lingered on Hemione, admiration flickering in his eyes. He was seeing her in a different light since the fight—there was something about the way she’d set that trap that just struck a chord with him. They had been close before, but now, as he absentmindedly straightened the parchment in front of him, he realized the bond between them had deepened in a way he hadn’t quite expected.

“Well, that’s one more thing we don’t have to worry about,” Sirius said, smiling like they had just had a great victory. “So, the werewolves are gone, the Death Eaters are gone, the goblins are neutralized, we are sitting pretty, I’d say,” he said, lifting an imaginary mug, like he was making a toast to a full bar. Though there was a sadness to his tone. He was still torn up over Remus.

Amelia pressed her fingertips against the cool glass, her gaze sweeping the grounds as a shiver ran down her spine. She turned back to the group, her footsteps echoing softly on the wooden floor. “We still have to worry about renegade wizards, and getting those that need help to the castle,” she stated, leveling a firm look at Sirius as she pulled a chair closer to the table and sat, her hands folded with resolve. “And help to those that won’t come,” she added.

Sirius leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his tousled hair as he exhaled a shaky breath. “Which we will do,” he agreed, nodding his head decisively. He picked up his pumpkin juice, swirling it absently before taking a sip. “We just don’t need to kill anyone to do that,” he added, relief softening his features as he glanced around the table, searching for reassurance in the faces of his companions.

Hermione leaned forward, her brows furrowed in concern as she addressed the Headmaster, her voice steady but urgent. “Now that the population is so low, how are we going to find the muggleborn among the citizens?” She tapped her quill against her notebook, glancing around the table as if searching for solidarity, before fixing her gaze intently on Filius, awaiting his answer.

“The same way we have always done it,” he said, tapping the book in front of him. With a flick of his wand, the heavy cover creaked open, the pages fluttering as if alive. He cast a quick charm, and the book began to glow faintly, names appearing and disappearing in shifting silver script. “We read the book, cast the charm, and set out to find them,” he explained, sliding down from his chair and striding purposefully toward the window, the book clasped tightly under his arm.

“I only got a letter,” Harry said, rubbing his nose in confusion.

“You should have received a visit,” Filius stated, tilting his head, just as confused.

“Yes, well, Dumbledore never did anything right with me, I’m beginning to realize,” Harry muttered, his fists clenching at his sides as he stared down at the table. Frustration flickered in his eyes, and he pushed his chair back just a little, as if needing more space to breathe. He ran a hand through his already-messy hair, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

A tense silence followed, broken only by the faint scratching of Hermione’s quill as she absently traced a pattern in the margin of her notes. The air in the room felt brittle, heavy with all the things left unsaid. For a moment, no one seemed willing to speak, the enormity of their losses pressing in on them from all sides.

It was Amelia who finally broke the stillness. “We have to do better this time,” she said quietly, her words carrying a weight that made even the candlelight seem to flicker. “There are too few of us left to repeat old mistakes.”

Neville nodded from his place at the table; his hands wrapped around a chilled glass of pumpkin juice. “We’ll make sure every child is found,” he promised, voice steady with determination. “No one falls through the cracks. Not again.”

Sirius looked at Harry, sympathy softening his features. “You deserved better, kid. We all did.” He took a deep breath, seeming to square his shoulders against the memories. “But we can make sure the next generation has a chance.” He raised his mug again, this time in true toast. “To hope. To rebuilding.”

Hermione looked around the table, her eyes meeting those of her friends—old and new. She saw the same exhaustion, the same stubborn defiance. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to begin.

Andi straightened, determination flashing in her eyes as she spoke. “We’ll be doing that by getting as many people as possible into the castle,” she said, nodding to Hermione, who immediately scribbled the point into her notes. Reaching over, she snagged one of the ham and cheese sandwiches, the plate clinking softly as she set it before her. She broke the sandwich in half, offering a portion to Neville, then placed her hand protectively on the table. “Especially the children,” she added, her voice steady and unwavering, her gaze lingering on the youngest among them as if already gathering them close.

“So, we have a plan: get everyone into the castle and find the muggleborn. Until then, we keep the war wards up and defend Hogwarts,” Flitwick declared as he returned briskly to the table. With surprising agility, he hopped up the makeshift staircase of stacked books and settled into his chair, wand still in hand. He began drawing intricate runes in the air, sparks trailing from the tip as protective charms shimmered along the edges of the room.

Hermione immediately started leafing through her notes, flipping pages with quick, efficient movements.

Neville set his glass down and stood, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a battle already at the door.

Sirius pushed back his chair with a determined scrape and strode to the window, peering out into the dusk with a watchful eye, ready for any sign of movement below.

The Weasleys gathered in a group to discuss what they were going to do as a family, Fleur included.

There was a renewed energy around the table now, each person taking up their role—some gathering supplies, others casting spells or checking entrances, all with a sense of urgent purpose. The fragile hope that had flickered moments before now glowed brighter, fueled by action and resolve.

“Right,” Harry said, rolling his shoulders and grabbing some parchment. He began scribbling furious notes, his brow furrowed in concentration. Determined not to waste a second, he pushed his chair back and started gathering spare cloaks and maps from the side table, stacking them into a rough pile for the others. Around him, the room buzzed with movement—

Hermione darted to a shelf to retrieve a battered atlas, while Neville tightened the straps on his satchel and checked his wand.

Harry moved to the window briefly, scanning the shadows for any sign of trouble before turning back to rally the others. He had wanted to go to the continent, but that seemed to be on the back burner for now. First, they had to take care of their home turf, and every muscle in his body was already preparing for the fight ahead.

They were going to do this and do it right this time.

Hphphp

Ten years later, Hogwarts had transformed into the heart of a bustling refuge. The castle’s grounds were alive with movement: children darted between the rows of enchanted crops, laughter trailing behind them as they helped the house elves harvest ripe pumpkins and golden ears of corn. Teams of witches and wizards—cloaks billowing—hauled crates of produce to waiting carts, their wands flicking through the air to lighten the loads.

The farms, here and abroad, now a patchwork of green and gold, provided food for most of Scotland and Britain. Once word had spread that not only safety, but sustenance could be found within these walls, families and individuals arrived in steady streams.

Neville, mud-splattered and grinning, led newcomers around the outer fields, showing them how to tend the magical plants that flourished on Hogwarts soil.

Hermione directed volunteers from a makeshift command post in the courtyard, parchment in hand, her voice cutting through the noise as she coordinated deliveries.

Scavenged supplies dwindled over the years, but by then the house elves’ tireless work had transformed the farms into a lifeline. At dawn, the fields shimmered with spells cast to ward off frost; by night, lanterns floated above the crops as patrols watched for any trouble. Through determination and daily effort, Hogwarts thrived, a beacon of hope and bustling activity—proof that rebuilding was not just a dream, but a reality shaped by many hands.

They still ventured beyond the safety of the castle walls, moving in silent groups to locate survivors hidden in the shadows of ruined villages. Out in the wilds, other small havens had taken root, and Hogwarts’ scouts navigated winding roads and forest trails to trade supplies and share news. When trouble arose—rogue wizards lurking at the edges of the wards or magical beasts threatening the outer farms—defenders sprang into action.

Spells crackled in the air, shields flared to life, and time and again, the war wards held firm. Each skirmish ended with Hogwarts’ victory, the defenders returning battered but triumphant. And through it all, the children were kept safe, never called to fight; their laughter remained unbroken, echoing across fields where hope had finally taken root.

“We did good,” Harry said from his spot at the Staff Table, nudging a bowl of steaming potato-leek soup toward Sirius, who was now the DADA teacher, much to his chagrin. He took a moment to tear off a hunk of crusty bread and moped up the fragrant broth before glancing around the Great Hall.

“We did,” Sirius agreed, grinning like a fool as he reached for a platter piled high with roast chicken, golden and glistening, its aroma mingling with that of baked apples and fresh thyme. He heaped a generous portion onto his own plate, then plucked a baked pumpkin pasty from a nearby tray, passing it to Harry with a wink.

Both of them looked out at the students’ tables, which were no longer decorated by banners or house colors. There were five tables now, and they were full of people, ages ranging from newborn to elderly, all sharing platters of roasted meat, fresh baked bread, roasted root vegetables, buttered peas, and towering stacks of treacle tart and other desserts. Laughter and the clink of goblets filled the hall, a simple, hearty feast celebrating the day’s hard-won peace.

As the meal continued, the hall buzzed with stories old and new—tales of narrow escapes, small kindnesses, and the magic that had held everyone together.

Fred, his hair and arms dusted with flour from kitchen duty, joined Harry and Sirius at the table, sliding into a seat with a tired but contented sigh. “The children helped with the pies this morning,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I think there’s more sugar on the floor than in the tarts, but they insisted on sharing their recipe for luck.”

Hermione passed by, a clipboard tucked under her arm, pausing just long enough to squeeze Harry’s shoulder and exchange a smile with Fred. “We’ll need another batch of anti-frost charms before midnight,” she reminded them, already halfway toward the doors, her voice fading into the background hum of a place that, against all odds, felt like home.

Harry looked after her with love in his eyes. They were married and had been for five years now. She was pregnant with his first child. She wasn’t showing yet and they hadn’t told anyone. She wanted to wait until her second trimester. But he couldn’t be prouder. She was good to him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the end of the world hadn’t happened, would they be together?

In one corner, Luna sketched out celestial charts for a group of curious first-years, her voice weaving stories of constellations and the promise of spring.

Neville, bustling in with a basket of fresh herbs, called out greetings as he made his rounds, distributing sprigs of rosemary and lavender to anyone who wanted them for luck or memory.

The warmth of the Great Hall radiated into the evening, lanterns flickering with gentle magic. Outside, the sky had begun to clear, revealing the first shy stars over the towers and turrets. For the first time in a long while, the future felt open—a tapestry waiting to be written by every soul gathered at those tables. In that golden, glowing moment, Hogwarts was more than a sanctuary; it was a promise that hope, once found, would not easily be lost again.

Harry leaned back, folding his hands behind his head and letting his gaze wander over the happy chaos of the Great Hall. “When all this started, I didn’t think we’d ever find peace again,” he confessed to his godfather, absently tapping his spoon against his bowl before taking another bite of his meal.

“I never doubted we would survive, but I never thought we’d be comfortable while doing it,” Sirius said, stretching his arms over his head before rolling his shoulders with a contented groan. He shifted in his seat, then reached across the table to swipe another slice of bread before Harry could protest. Grinning, Sirius tossed a crumb at Harry, who caught it deftly and flicked it back, laughter chasing away the shadows that still lingered at the edges of their hearts. For a moment, the two sat in easy camaraderie, the bustle of the hall swirling around them like a living, breathing charm.

Flitwick bustled over, deftly dodging a pair of enchanted, floating goblets, and perched himself on the Headmaster’s Chair. He jingled a bell for attention, causing a nearby group of students to quiet, then gave Harry and Sirius a conspiratorial wink. “I for one am glad you came to Hogwarts,” he said with a broad smile, swinging his legs beneath him. “If you had not come, we might not have gotten done half of what we did,” he added, voice chipper as he reached for a pastry, expertly vanishing a trail of pumpkin seeds with a quick flick of his wand.

Harry reached for his goblet and took a thoughtful sip, then set it down with a quiet clink. “I’m glad we did too,” he said softly, his gaze drifting across the hall. Though a flicker of regret lingered for old plans left behind, a deeper contentment settled in his chest. He nudged Sirius playfully with his elbow, then rolled his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the past.

Filius leaned in, brushing a stray crumb from his robes as he fixed Harry with a knowing look. “You will be teaching the combat class for the younger years tonight?” he asked, an eyebrow quirked. He tapped his wand against the bell in his hand, making it emit a soft, shimmering note, while his other hand deftly snagged a pastry from a passing tray.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet, brushing a few pastry crumbs from his sleeve. He glanced around the hall to see a group of eager first-years already gathering near the door, wands tucked behind their ears and faces bright with anticipation. “I’ve taken over some of the classes from Anderson and Plagers—just the younger years for now. I’m still learning, but they seem to enjoy my lessons.” With a quick grin at Flitwick, Harry grabbed his wand from the table, gave Sirius a conspiratorial wink, and strode toward the waiting students, the gentle clatter of his footsteps mingling with the lively murmur of the Great Hall.

Harry lingered outside the classroom after the lesson, tucking his wand into his sleeve and gathering up stray parchments left behind by eager students. The hallways were quieter now, torches flickering softly in their sconces. He made his way through the winding corridors, the familiar stones echoing beneath his footsteps, and finally reached his quarters. Pushing open the door, he found Hermione curled up on the worn armchair, a stack of books at her side.

Crossing the room, Harry knelt beside her, taking her hand in his and tracing gentle circles across her palm. “Are you happy that we stayed?” he asked quietly, searching her face for any hint of doubt.

“Yes,” she said, but didn’t elaborate.

“Why?” he asked, shifting to sit cross-legged on the rug beside her. He glanced up at her face, searching her eyes, reaching to brush a stray curl from her cheek as he waited for her answer.

Hermione shifted in the armchair, unfolding her legs and leaning forward to rest her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Because I don’t want to have this baby anywhere else but here at Hogwarts,” she said, her voice steady as she squeezed his hand, looking him squarely in the eye as if daring him to doubt her conviction.

“Why, though?” he asked again.

Hermione shifted forward in the armchair, pressing her palm more firmly to Harry’s shoulder as she met his gaze. “Harry, this castle has been a big part of our lives. We’ve been here since we were eleven years old. I think I would rather be here than anywhere else in the world. I know you have some bad memories, I do too, but there are some wonderful memories as well,” she said, running her hands through his hair. Then, as if drawing strength from the walls themselves, she stood and pulled Harry up beside her, both of them framed by the glow of the hearth. She pressed her forehead to his, breathing in the familiar scent of old parchment and warm stone, her other hand coming to rest protectively over her belly.

“Okay, Hermione. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t making a mistake in staying here. I know I am the Deputy Headmaster and will probably be the Headmaster when Filius retires. I want to make sure that staying is what you want,” he said, his thumb gently brushing across her knuckles as he spoke.

Hermione squeezed his hand tighter, then tugged him closer so that he stumbled, almost bumping into her. She laughed softly, the sound echoing off the ancient stones. With a sudden burst of energy, she drew him into a tight embrace, resting her chin on his shoulder. Harry, feeling her warmth and resolve, let out a slow breath, his tension melting away as he wrapped his arms around her in return. The firelight flickered across the room, dancing over their entwined forms, as the hush of Hogwarts seemed to settle around them, cocooning them in its familiar magic.

“It is,” she promised, holding him close.

“Then we’ll stay,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her back. They began to sway gently, caught up in the quiet warmth of the moment.

Hermione tipped her head to rest against his shoulder, her breath soft against his neck.

Harry tightened his arms around her, drawing her even closer, and then—feeling suddenly lighthearted—he spun her in a slow circle across the rug, her laughter bubbling up between them.

She let him lead her a few steps before tugging him back, both of them slightly breathless, and pressed her palm flat against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. For a while they simply stood together, enveloped by the firelight and the hush of ancient stone, the world outside falling away.