• 1-Political Axes
• 2-Ch 1
• 3-ch2
• 4-Ch3
• 5-Ch 4
• 6-5
• 7-6
• 8-7
• 9-8
• 10-9
• 11-10
• 12-11
• 13-12
• 14-13
• 15-14
• 16-15
• 17-16
• 18-17
• 19-18
• 20-19
• 21-20

His footsteps barely made any sound, despite crunching on top of the forest soil, dense with twigs, rocks and leaves. Harry took his time, breathing easy as he headed towards the rally point. After several minutes of venturing further into the forest, the trees grew thick; the trunks close together so that the leaves above blocked out the sunlight, casting the forest below in shadow and dusky light, which made it nearly impossible to track time based on the sun. More from memory than sight, Harry made his way to the edge of a small clearing, marked only by the lifeless form of an ash-white tree, completely stripped of its bark and leaves. The tree had been nearly split in half by lightning, its branches parted like the pages of a book.

Once in the clearing, Harry removed his outer Auror robe and tossed it across a low hanging branch of the rotting tree, its blood red lining visible even in the dim light. Then he waited.

He could tell they were coming because of the silence. Forests, despite what one might think, were not quiet places. They were full of too many animals to be so. Yet, even the wind had stopped its shallow breeze, leaving the air quiet as a death chamber.

The four of them arrived together, each one of them dressed in their tactical gear, eyes alight with fierce determination and eager to hear what Harry had to say.

“You’ve each been questioned over the last two weeks. You’ve each been asked about the nature of my relationship with Syl, as well as my relationship with each of yourselves,” Harry began without greeting or preamble. “You’ve seen various stories published in the newspaper, and no doubt you’ve heard the many varied speculative tales regarding what happened to Syl. Have you any questions?” he asked, leaning against the tree.

Charlie stepped forward quickly, wand out, pointing it at Harry’s temple. No one made a sound or move, but Emma’s entire body constricted as she swallowed her shock at Charlie’s actions. She wanted to scream at Charlie, ask him just what the fuck he thought he was doing challenging Harry to prove himself. Drawing a wand was a challenge of the most extreme kind, and in their profession one usually had only two choices, live or die.

Harry, to his credit, didn’t even acknowledge the wand. They would have been shocked had he done so. It was likely that Ron would have killed him on the spot had Harry even batted an eye, because the Harry Potter he knew, would never give anyone the satisfaction of a flinch of surprise. A flinch would have been a sure sign that the person flinching was not, in fact, Harry.

Harry looked at Charlie proudly, smiling, before he pushed off the tree and knelt on one knee, a sign of peace.

“Tell us,” Charlie demanded.

Harry looked around the semi circle, meeting the eyes of each member of his team and holding it for a few seconds.

“The spell was not sanctioned. It was stolen. I didn’t know until recently that the spell I helped to create was used to kill Syl,” Harry said, his voice toneless. “I hadn’t informed the rest of you because I was still piecing it together.”

Charlie, Rocco and Ron each spared a narrow-eyed glance at Emma, silently relaying their displeasure that she had not confided in them as well.

“Will you take the blood-truth test?” Charlie asked.

Emma gave a soft gasp of shock. She hadn’t realized Harry had not informed the others what they had learned from Max. Still, what Charlie was asking was a serious request— a request that if agreed to by a liar would cost the one lying his life instantaneously. Ron looked as though he wanted to stop the entire proceeding before him, but he was restrained by Rocco, who lay a calming hand on the redhead’s shoulder.

Harry nodded and pushed up his sleeve, allowing Charlie to press his wand to his forearm. A short incantation later and a shallow cut pooled with blood along the main artery on Harry’s forearm before a soft green light surrounded the cut. When the light disappeared the cut and blood were gone, as though they had never been inflicted at all.

“Satisfied,” Harry said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Charlie didn’t respond. He merely lowered his wand and yanked Harry up off his knees and into brotherly hug.

All the Aurors visibly relaxed— all but Emma. After he redressed in his robes Harry could see the tension in Emma’s face, conflicting emotions warring just behind her calm exterior. It had been one week since Harry’s suspension and two days since the latest bombshell hit the press. The wizarding world was buzzing like a hive of angry bees since it was revealed by an anonymous letter to the Prophet that the spell that killed Syl was one of Harry’s own creation. The warlock had been on the warpath and Kingsley looked constantly pissed off these days. Truths and lies were converging by the minute, creating a swamp of confusion only exacerbated by the fact that as far as anyone could tell, no one in the Ministry, not even the warlock had advanced knowledge of the story before it broke in the newspapers. None of the team had seen Harry since he was suspended and they needed answers, fast.

Ron let out an exhausted sigh before walking close to Harry and asking, “So, are you going to bring us all up to speed or not?”

Harry gave him a hearty pat on the back and smiled briefly before launching into a point by point recap of the past several weeks, including everything he had learned from various sources, including Max.

“The warlock is involved. I am not sure how, but I’d bet Draco’s wardrobe the old ass would shoot a load if he could get me booted from the Aurors for cause. It’s bad enough he has been able to pressure Kingsley enough to put me on administrative leave. This latest news will no doubt further that agenda,” Harry said solemnly. “These inquiries into my personal life, the transparent attempt by him to implicate Draco and myself in Syl’s demise, and this…ruse of questioning my team about my conduct as a superior, all point to Corme being the likely culprit behind our Ministry shadows. Umbridge is his little go-getter bitch at the moment, doing all his bidding, but that is no secret. What we as a team need to try to discover is whether Corme knows more about Syl’s death than he is letting on,” Harry told his team. “Whoever leaked the details of the spell that killed Syl had to be involved with nicking it from Max’s files. No one— and I mean no one— but he and I knew about that spell. We created it off clock and off book for a reason. We also hid it for a reason. It was volatile and hard to control, even for me, so we shelved it.”

“So, have you anything for us to go on?” Ron asked. He was sick of waiting for the culprits to make a mistake. He wanted to capture the assholes responsible yesterday.

“Yeah. Kingsley and I are pretty certain there is a leak in the Class 3 team heading up the official investigation into Syl’s death. Umbridge likely has a little bird there. She and the warlock were too well informed for the information to have come from any other source, including St. Mungo’s. Umbridge is very good at playing on the ambitions of others and turning them to her goals,” Harry confirmed.

Rocco perched up in one of the dead branches, held safely by an unbreakable charm on the tree itself, cast a look at Ron, who merely smirked back with a ‘told you so’ expression. They had argued vehemently about the source of the shadows. Ron was in favor of the spies being from within their own Ministry, but Rocco was certain the spies had been contracted out from some foreign wizarding government.

“Ron, I want you to gather a list of possible informants for us to discuss. Rocco, as of tomorrow, you are officially on sick leave. Don’t care what you have, so long as it is contagious and curable. Unofficially, you will be working a trail on Guillmere. I want to know everything about this guy. All we know at this point is his full name and he’s French, but hell, even that could be a lie. Start with birth and property records. Since you have dual citizenship, pop on back home and search from there. I don’t want your search here tipping off anyone in wizarding Europe. Bring back some of that spicy stew your grandmother makes while you’re at it.”

Rocco snorted.

“My sayt ayat tells me, Harry, that you need a woman to cook for you. I tried to explain to her about you and Draco, but she insists it ‘take woman to make man good stew’,” the Eritrean added with a laugh, his accent shining through in his mirth as he mimicked his grandmother.

“Well, you tell your adorable grandma-ma that she’s the only woman I’d consider leaving Draco for,” Harry bantered back. “And then, only for her stew.”

Ron and Rocco both bid the team goodbye, off to start their tasks, leaving Charlie, Emma and Harry alone in the forest.

Charlie looked at Harry very seriously. “You know, now that they’ve managed to get you suspended it is going to be hard for you to work within the system; our moves will be closely monitored.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, scrubbing a hand over his face irritably. “You’ll all have to be extremely careful, especially when inside the Ministry, which is why I wanted to meet here. I’m not even sure I want to meet at the safe house anymore. There are just too many unknowns right now.”

“How do you want to maintain contact?”

“The Manor. It is the only place with wards strong enough to prevent our communications being compromised. Owl or Floo me there, and tell the team to adjust their emergency Portkeys to the Manor’s coordinates, the main house foyer. I’ll have Draco adjust the wards to allow only Portkey entry from members of the team. Discuss nothing over general Floo connections, charm your owls in code, and stay in touch with each other. You’ll all most likely be assigned desk duty in my absence, but…you can use that to catch up on paperwork. Gracious knows we have enough of that.”

“Well, what do you want your tracker to do, then?” Charlie asked, his face furrowed in concern. Harry was in it this time and Charlie couldn’t help but feel as though things were spiraling out of control. Rumors were one thing, but their leader had been forced through a combination of unsubstantiated rumor, political scheming and public doubt to leave his post. An ominous sign if there ever was one.

“Can you continue tracking Avery? I know so far his trail is cold, but…I just know this fucker and he won’t stay hidden long. Even in training he had a sick need to prove himself, to be known. I doubt he’ll stay quiet, even though by now he has got to know we’re looking for him.”

“Sure thing, Harry. And, sorry—”

Harry held up a hand to quiet Charlie. “You were right. You…it’s what we need right now. We are a team, not a dictatorship. I’ll never be angry at you for being cautious.”

Charlie nodded somberly and glanced over at Emma, who was standing at the far side of the circle looking down at the ground, her face stony in thought.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll talk to her,” Harry said softly, understanding why Charlie was concerned. Their relationship was new and they were obviously still adjusting to being both lovers and coworkers. “Go on. She’ll catch up to you when were done here.”

Charlie hugged Harry again, each of them smacking one another loudly across the back in a manly embrace. Emma looked up at the sound, her eyes automatically catching Charlie’s. The betrayal the ginger-haired Auror saw reflected in her eyes made his throat go dry, and when she turned away quickly, breaking eye contact, his heart plummeted.

Once Charlie was gone Harry took his time, carefully deciding in his mind how to approach Emma. The woman was fairly unpredictable when it came to her emotions, which is probably why she never showed any. She reminded him a little of Snape in that way.

“Em? You OK?”

“Yes. What’s our assignment?” She asked, cutting quickly to business, her jaw tight and her posture even tighter.

“Listen, Em…what Charlie did—”

“Was fucked!” Emma lashed out. “I can’t believe he—”

“He did what I trained him to do,” Harry interjected, causing Emma to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“What?” The brunette’s almond eyes were almost pleading.

“I suppose since you are the newest you’d not really know this, but well, Charlie and Ron, having fought in the war, know a little something about betrayal. We had a very good friend who had been turned. Lots of people know the popularized story of the war, along with a few dramatic side stories. However, this story was never publicized, and I wanted it that way,” Harry said, walking slowly away from the clearing.

Several minutes went by during which neither of them spoke. Emma knew Harry would continue when he was ready. He grabbed her by the hand, leading her through the forest back the way they had come.

“If I asked you who were my most trusted comrades during the war, your answer would be?” Harry asked, not looking at Emma.

The brown-skinned beauty paused a moment, but offered, “Ron and Hermione were your best friends. That’s legend.”

“True. That fact has the distinction of being both true and legend. What few people know is that while Ron and his entire family fought in the war, Hermione didn’t. We have kept up the falsehood that she did for a long time and I am trusting you to do so as well should you ever need to retell the tale of the war.

“Hermione is Muggle-born and completely brilliant, but during the she war was marked for death, maybe even more than me. She was walking proof of the fallacy of pureblood supremacy. Anyway, halfway through the war she got pregnant with Ron’s baby. Long story short, he and I both talked her into retreating deep into the Muggle world, so as not to endanger herself or the baby. She was furious and completely against the idea, but well…in the end a mother’s love won out and she fled. Unfortunately, she lost the baby anyway in a simple all-too-common miscarriage… but she survived the war. We didn’t find out about the miscarriage until the war was over and Ron went to retrieve her from where she was stashed, in some little no-name Muggle village in the Netherlands.”

Emma stayed silent, just letting Harry tell his story, not minding the long moments of silence that followed here and there.

“Here is the real story, a bit abbreviated as I hate talking about it. You know all the names, I am sure, thanks to Angelina and the various versions of the story. Anyway, Ron, Neville, Snape, Remus, and Auror Nymphadora Tonks became my most trusted allies during the war.”

Emma couldn’t help herself, as she had heard many versions just like everyone else of Harry and the members of the Light during the war years, she just had to ask, “Snape? Snape was one of your most trusted? But the story is that you hated each other. I would have thought Dumbledore would have made the list.”

Harry chuckled in a kind of sad way. “Yeah, many make that assumption. About Dumbledore I mean. I loved him, really, but trust would be the wrong word. Snape and I did hate each other, but we both had the same agenda; that bonded us closer than almost Ron and I during those years. Dumbledore, well, I trusted him to win the war, but not to protect me. There is a difference,” Harry remarked the last bit rather sadly, but continued on. “Anyway, you know the story about the Longbottom’s, Neville’s parents, right?”

Emma nodded.

“Turns out Voldemort, through Lucius, made Neville a promise to reverse the damage done to his parents. Even though it would have meant using Dark Magic, Neville just couldn’t resist. He loved and longed for his parents more than he hated Voldemort and Bellatrix for having caused their condition to begin with. So, Neville turned. We almost found out too late.

“First it was Snape. His cover was blown. We never found out how, as his body was delivered in pieces to the gates of Hogwarts. A few weeks later, we were all gearing up for an assault on a Death Eater safe house. They knew we were coming. It was a bloodbath. Remus Lupin barely survived. He lost both his legs and an eye. It’s why he now lives with the Weasleys; he can’t function normally on his own anymore. Turns out Tonks, by some stroke of luck, saw Neville during the battle deliberately missing Death Eaters with his hexes. Now, Neville was never what one would call a master duelist, but he was brave and had been fully trained up by both Snape and myself. He’d never been so sloppy in battle before. So, Tonks confronted him and Neville Portkeyed her to Voldemort.

“Evil bastard tortured that woman for six days and she never broke. Instead, she somehow got free, fought like hell, and used her last bit of strength and probably her last happy memory to send us her Patronus with a warning, telling us what happened. She saved all our lives. No one would have ever suspected Neville, not even me. We’d known him all our lives—from the time were children. Yet, in the end, we didn’t know him well enough to see his real weakness—his inability to move on, to let go.

“That taught us all a lesson, you see. Take no one and nothing for granted. We, the Class 5s, we have our oaths, and that is a form of protection for us. Still, in dangerous times those of us who fought in the war sometimes fall back on wartime security measures. Don’t fault Charlie for that. Don’t ever fault him for that,” Harry stated firmly, but with a slightly plaintive tone.

Emma thought for several long moments before responding.

“Still, I should have…been more aware,” she said, her voice angry again.

Harry shook his head. “No, you were right where you should have been. Standing shoulder to shoulder with your team.”

Seeing the stubborn expression on her face, Harry let out a sigh and stopped walking. He turned to face her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“I know what you think. You are conflicted between your loyalty to me, as my second in the field, and your growing love and loyalty to Charlie. Emma, please listen, the two are not mutually exclusive. What you and Charlie have won’t be easy all the time, especially not in this line of work, but you’ve got to know that I trust Charlie with my life, just as I trust you with it. You have got to learn to trust yourself as well. I know that in the field there is little to no room for second-guessing on the basis of social relationships. Yet, life is not the field, Emma. You can’t live your entire life in battle. Trust me, I’ve done it and suffered permanently from it.”

Emma’s eyes misted with emotion, a rarity indeed as she stared back into Harry’s fierce gaze.

“He drew a wand on you! What…what if, gods, what if he had been like Neville? It was careless of me… of us all,” she insisted.

“No, it wasn’t. What you didn’t see was that Ron was ready to kill either of us if one of us had proven to be an enemy. Charlie never would have gotten through Avada before he was dead as that tree back there. Hell, quick as you are with a blade I would have been shocked if Charlie’s heart wasn’t carved out of his body by the time you heard the first vowel.”

That tore a small snort of amusement from the witch, but Harry could still tell Emma was still more than a little pissed off. She gave Harry a playful punch in the shoulder before stalking off ahead of him. She needed time to absorb it all properly; even once that was done, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t still beat the living shit out of Charlie.