Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Other Worlds	By : OrdinaryMortal Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 15372 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter & BBC's Sherlock characters and worlds contained within are not mine, nor do I make any money from them. Thanks to their creators for letting me play in their sandbox. Please review! Prompts considered!

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
All over Britain the owls soared.
In Wizarding homes up and down the country, grim-faced Aurors crawled over the ruined cottage in Godric's Hollow, its Fidelius broken and revealed in the full page photo on the front of the Daily Prophet.
The DMLE had given up Obliviating muggles not long after dawn, and simply erected muggle repelling barriers around the village centre and the hastily set up official Apparition sites; necessary after some near collision and splinching incidents from the sheer amount of gawkers, reporters, florists and mourners heading to the newly-visible Potter home. By 9am, the only muggles left in the village were the elderly and the incurious, who stayed in their homes and watched their daytime TV as usual.
In Wizarding areas up and down the country there was an air of celebration that Voldemort was gone, presumed dead, rather than mourning the fallen. The name 'Harry Potter' was being toasted in GillyWine and Firewhisky by mid morning; three local TV news teams had to be redirected and memories modified after attempting to report on extraordinarily rambunctious street parties in Manchester, Glastonbury and Tenby, and the sheer amount of owls flying by daylight had triggered special ornithological discussions on Radio Four and BBC 2. Zonko's were obviously going to have sold out of fireworks by dusk, and old Cariadoc Zonko had been interviewed on the Wizarding Wireless News, thanking 'the Boy Saviour' for having the foresight to arrange doing away with You-Know-Who in the run up to Bonfire Night, as he already had extra house-elves working around the clock to produce more.
With the Prewetts dead, the wards had sealed over the Grange, awaiting the coming of age of the Heir. Unable to access their meeting place, the Order met in Arthur and Molly's cottage, the Burrow; wizarding space enlarging the kitchen to fit them all in as the dawn broke.
The mood inside was sombre. Voldemort was gone, probably - hopefully - dead, but at a dreadful personal cost. Maybe half the Order was present, with Dumbledore and Minerva the most senior remaining. Arthur and Molly were practically holding each other upright; in one terrible night Molly had not only lost her beloved twin brothers but her best friend Marlene McKinnon, as well as the Potters. Frank and Alice sat on a low bench, taut with sustained anxiety. Alastor Moody was the most visibly scarred amongst them, with a white patch covering the newly empty eye socket and a raw scar descending from his scalp to his upper lip, obliterating half his nose. Dingle and Doge. Vance and Figg. The disgusting Mundungus Fletcher. Black and Lupin understandably absent.
Glaringly absent, of course, were James and Lily Potter. Before going into hiding, Lily Potter had been their key strategist, showing an ability to developing battle plans and retreat lines, even on the fly, that impressed even Dumbledore and Moody, who had confirmed her Field Leader role. James, Alastor and Frank had always formed their point team, and worked seamlessly in battle with James taking the forward position. With both he and Frank away from the Action last night, Alastor had had to redeploy Arthur and Benjy Fenwick, and while both had fought valiantly Benjy had fallen to Rosier's AK within minutes of the pitched battle starting. Molly had taken Rosier out with a well placed cutting hex and stepped up into position, but until the Auror team had shown up with additional fighters the battle had been too close to call.
Dumbledore was still furious at having been taken in for questioning like a common criminal. There were those at the Ministry who publicly deplored what they termed 'a group of vigilantes', though such descriptions were usually shouted down by a well manipulated Press as well as most of the Wizarding world. However, at least he'd been on hand for one of the most rewarding scenes of the last thirty years: the sight of Lucius Malfoy, back arched and heels drumming on the floor, screaming under what was undoubtedly a form of Cruciatus, as the sounds from other cells indicated other Death Eaters were undergoing the same treatment.
Voldemort had fallen.
Not only that, but he'd taken the Potters with him, and there would be a private toast tonight to getting that source of irritation out of the way. The brat had disappeared, although there was surprisingly little mention of that amongst the Aurors and Unspeakables within range of his Notice-Me-Not charm. An idea to spin that had been fully developed by the time he and the rest of the Order were released, with the concept of the 'Child Saviour' so deftly dropped into murmured conversations during his long meander to the Atrium that by the time the Press had finally been allowed near him, *they* were asking *him* where the Child Saviour was. By the time the kid had been found, public opinion would have been whipped up to the point it would be obvious even to Child and Family Department officials that it would be impossible for him to grow up quietly and privately in the Wizarding world. He would be only too delighted to provide them with an alternative, and family at that.
However, it was clearly time to 'rest' the Order. Too many of their best were gone. Alastor was a fine fighter, of course, but with no physical battle to be fought the man was almost useless to him in the new day that was dawning. With no political influence and the subtlety of a wounded bear, he was one to be kept caged until needed at a later date. Arthur too had little Ministry acumen. The mild Compulsion interesting him in Muggle society and innovations had triggered an obsession, and he would never be seen by Ministry highbrows as anything other than an affable curiosity. Minerva was obsessed with the school, rather than a wider interest in society, and although she fought like a tiger it was to protect 'her own' - the students, present and past, whom she had shepherded through their formative years. No, a new crop of Order recruits would be needed; nurtured through OWLS, NEWTS and Masters, steered into position in the DMLE, Wizengamot and Ministry, before any further plans could be brought to fruition.
"With Voldemort dead", he began, "and faced with our own grievous losses, I feel it best that we step back from our glorious struggle, and do our best in our own ways to support the Ministry in recovering, for the greater good of Wizardkind. That is not to say that we go our separate ways, never to reunite, but I feel, and I expect you all agree, that our focus should be on healing, both ourselves and families, but also our community."
There were nods and murmured agreement from around the table, and Dumbledore mentally congratulated himself on calling them to meet so soon after most of them had left their cells. Even Minerva was clearly exhausted; something to do with Snape and the werewolf; and wasn't it interesting that those two were apparently close?
Other than platitudes about sacrifice, dedication, each held in esteem etc etc ad nauseum, the meeting was adjourned fairly soon afterwards, with promises to see each other at the various funerals. Dumbledore's next meeting would be with the Interim Minister, Millicent Bagnold. He expected she would be delighted to have his loyal, and very public, wholehearted support for her endeavours. Just as he would be delighted to have hers.
---------
Mycroft placed his cup on the table with, perhaps, a little more force than was necessary, leading Bernard to look up with an eyebrow raised - the closest the man ever came to shock. Mycroft waved a hand dismissively. "Dumbledore", he said. "I have to say, he knows how to manipulate a situation. Harry Potter, thanks to him, is already the Child Saviour And Defeater Of Voldemort. If he finds out what actually happened in that house, it will be The Boy Who Lived, or He Who Was Foretold, or some such nonsense. His photo is already in this morning's Prophet, I see. Please have it confirmed for me that all private papers and photos were recovered from the house before the teams left last night. The last thing we'll need is a putative Will being printed out in Which Witch, claiming Albus is the boy's guardian."
"From reports, Sir, it looks like they followed your advice regarding that, as very little personal documentation was left in the house. I suspect that they stored the greater majority in their vaults. Would you like me to have the Goblins announce that the Potters Last Will and Testaments have been lodged with Gringotts, and the heirs and Guardians have already been informed?"
"Yes. That might derail him somewhat. Having the blood adoption sealed under Gringotts Fidelius was, in hindsight, one of the smartest things the Potters ever did. Have you got the latest report from Sherrinford?"
"Mr Lupin is considered out of danger, sir, and due to a certain procedure he does not name, Mr Snape's prognosis has greatly improved. Doctor Bardwell's report lists the names of three specialists in Pediatrics, Curse Breaking and Mind Healing that she would like to have examine the boy, two of whom have already come to our attention."
Mycroft scanned the list. "Yes to the paediatrician, we'll have a goblin come examine the curse under Fidelius, and definitely no to that mind healer. Bardwell's the only one I will allow to see the child's memories."
The parchment was taken delicately from him. "The majority of the Death Eaters in custody have regained consciousness, and with your leave I have all available Unspeakables undertaking the pre-Auror interviews from this afternoon. Greyback and his presumed associates have not been located as yet. Three Death Eaters died under the curse, and seven have been moved to the Janus Thickey ward for evaluation of apparent insanity. Karkaroff, Knott and Malfoy's solicitors have all served briefs alleging they were Imperiused for the last four years, two years and two years respectively. Our American counterparts have signalled that Regulus Black has arrived at the safe house, and once the Longbottoms have been located, assuming they still wish to, they will be able to use the arranged route in place for tonight. Moving on, the Minister's aides are in consultation with Head Office at present, Sir, so that is proceeding as normal."
"Do we have any information yet about the Longbottoms' location?" enquired Mycroft.
"Witness statements corroborate their being in Hogsmeade at 9am this morning, where they were seen with Minerva McGonagall. However, as McGonagall was teaching Transfiguration to 23 Fifth Year students at that time, it's safe to say that they were speaking to someone under Polyjuice. We have a ward breaking team at the LeStrange Manor, and have an Anti-Apparition net over the building, but if other Death Eaters have them, then they could be as lost as Dearborn."
Mycroft stood, and smoothed the line of his cuffs. "I need to go to St Mungo's and New Scotland Yard, after which I will be at safe house Arthur, debriefing Black and Lupin. Once the Longbottoms are located or the LeStrange wards fall, contact me there."
Bernard inclined his head as Mycroft stepped through the Floo, and returned to his paperwork.
------
Frank Longbottom opened his eyes.
Opposite him his wife hung in similar chains of Air, her eyes closed. A shaft of daylight pierced the gloom of the dark room they were in, but he could see no further than his wife's ashen face. "Alice?" he croaked.
There was no answer from her, but a deep chuckle came from the hidden corner behind them. "Alice isn't available at the moment. You'll have to make do with my wife, I'm afraid. Straight exchange seems fair, don't you think?"
Frank's gasp sounded more like a sob as he realised the implications of that comment. There was a tutting sound directly opposite, and the 'click' of spiked heels across a marble floor. 'Now now, dear. Don't break our toys yet. Why don't you run and get Barty and your brother, while Frankie-baby and I have a nice little chat?"
Bellatrix LeStrange stepped into the beam of light as the door behind Frank opened and Rodolphus strode out, calling for the others. The sole female Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle looked like hell. Huge shadows were under her eyes, stark in her milky white skin, and her hair was a chaotic mess. She seemed to know his thoughts. "Forgive us for not looking our best. Rough night for us all, I'm sad to say. Going by your faces when you popped into Hogsmeade this morning, though, I can't say yours looked much better. A hard night with the baby? Hungover, perhaps?" She laughed, and he could hear the cracking rasp in her voice where she must have been screaming for most of the night.
Behind him, footsteps, as the three men came into the room. Rastaban was limping heavily, and Crouch was snarling with poorly controlled rage as they came to stand next to Bellatrix, Rodolphus moving behind her to embrace her, tiny in his arms. Tiny or not, she was the directive force of the trio, and Frank knew to keep his eyes on her. Truth was though, no matter where he looked, he expected both he and Alice would die in this room, and he just hoped Alice never regained consciousness; a hope that was dashed when Bellatrix cast a whispered 'renervate' towards her.
Alice's eyes opened, but to Frank's horror, there was no awareness in them. Bellatrix smiled warmly. "I'm afraid the boys might have got a bit carried away while you were sleeping, Frank. Barty in particular was very cross with her. Do you know, she absolutely refused to tell him what that nasty Ministry have done with Our Lord? And she didn't seem to have any idea at all why our Marks burned like acid and the Cruciatus shocked through us till morning. Do you know what that felt like?" She moved out of Rodolphus' arms to lightly circle round Alice, before peeling back the sleeve of the robe Alice had thrown on that morning. Frank swallowed dryly as he noticed how the sleeve stuck to the arm beneath, and Alice let out a pained moan as the arm beneath was revealed.
Crouch laughed. "Well, what do you know, the bitch is still with us. Enough, at any rate."
Frank barely heard him as he vomited in reaction to the sight of Alice's arm. The skin was entirely gone, and the muscle lay in strips, exposing the bone. Bellatrix 'tsk'd' in disapproval. "Really, Frank. No woman likes to have it put so bluntly that their husband doesn't find them attractive anymore. It's very thoughtless of you." She squeezed one of the hanging muscles , barely attached to the bone, and Alice gave out a mindless scream as Frank sobbed. "From the cute little noises she makes, I'd say that our Marks hurt exactly like that. Imagine the night we had!" Her eyes went soullessly blank. "Imagine the day we'll have."
- 12
- 13
- 14
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