Harold leaned back waiting with a polite smile etched on his face. Behind him the Portal between Worlds crackled with raw magic. Harry blinked. Everything was happening so fast. It had only been an hour since they had last sat across the table from each other, but everything had changed. The faint sense of camaraderie that they had managed to build was lost. The Order was gathered around him, many now nursing wounds. Even with his arm in a sling, Remus managed a formidable glare at what was apparently Regulus Black. Harry didn’t understand how that was possible, and couldn’t help the lump that formed in his throat at the deceptively familiar features. The two Hermiones stood unsteadily on their feet, but had nearly identical expressions of determination on their faces..
“So you’re not going to help us,” Fred said at length.
“I never said that,” Harold replied.
“What exactly are you saying?” Ron asked.
“That the amount of aide I provide is contingent on other factors.”
“In other words you’ll only help as much as you feel like it,” Bill said with a snarl.
“You should be thankful I am willing at all,” Harold said. His eyes grew cold. “You kidnapped a Head of State, Mr. Weasley. That would be considered an act of war in most circles.”
“And what do you call your attack then?”
“A rescue operation. The Hegemony does not negotiate with terrorists.”
“Is that what we are?” Bill asked angrily.
“You tell me.” They glared at each other for a moment, but Bill blinked first. Harold turned to face his counterpart, dismissing the red head.
“You’re the Head of State?” Harry asked incredulously.
“I am the Supreme Commander of the Defense Forces of the Hegemony, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Premier of the Wand. As far as you are concerned, I am the Hegemony.” He spoke softly without vanity or false modesty, simply stating the facts. “Regarding Voldemort we are in complete agreement. It is not the policy of my government to allow ethnic cleansing of any kind, least of all Voldemort’s particular brand. However, my actions and by extension those of the Hegemony will be closely scrutinized in the weeks and months ahead. I’m sure you can see my problem.” The members of the Order frowned and glanced around uncertainly.
“You can’t be seen to act unilaterally,” Hermione said at last. She seemed to stir herself from her fugue state. “Theoretically you could open a portal anywhere. You could land troops without anyone knowing.”
“Precisely,” Harold said. “Something which I hope will prove a decisive advantage against Voldemort. However our sudden appearance will be frightening enough, without invading a country. Even as a liberation force, the Hegemony would be view as a dangerous aggressor. No! If I commit troops to your aide, it must be authorized loudly by some legal authority. Unfortunately that means Mr. Scrimgeour.”
“And if he refuses?” Ron inquired.
“Then my help will be more…limited, but I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I can be very persuasive.” Harold smirked. “In any case I will be leaving.” He paused and glanced around noting the heated glares between Remus and Regulus. “Gavrilov,” he said at last, “as my liaison. He will coordinate our joint efforts.” Gavrilov bent his head in acknowledgement, before nodding at Flitwick. The little man returned the gesture. There was no hostility there. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” Harold said rising to his feet. “I’m going home.” He sketched an aristocratic bow and spinning on his heels marched through the Portal without another word.
Lord Voldemort frowned. Even the delightful song of the mudblood’s screaming could not put his mind at ease. Breaching the veil between worlds was an act of pure desperation. An impressive feat, rivaling even some of his own accomplishments. He had been caught off guard. In all his stratagems, he had never once contemplated this eventuality. Not once had even the merest inkling of the idea crossed his mind. He applauded his enemy’s creativity and daring, but perhaps, there was opportunity here as well. Voldemort searched his memory recalling half forgotten rituals and spells. Rune Magic had never been his specialty, but if the Order could find a way, then he certainly would.
After all, if the Potter brat had a counterpart, then surely he, Lord Voldemort, did as well. No power in all of creation could stand against two Voldemorts fighting side by side. The Dark Lord felt almost giddy at the thought. All would bow before him! He paused. It was a powerful dream, but he knew himself too well. He would never dare trust himself. No, one Voldemort would have to suffice against a pair of Potters. He scoffed. It should be no difficulty, and yet there was something dangerously competent about the other Potter, a hint of the dark arts. He had not seen an Occlumency shield so powerful, since Dumbledore. The old fool would turn in his grave to learn that Potter, even an alternate Potter had delved into darkness. Still one man alone would not turn the tide, but if one comes then others would follow. The itch had not yet subsided, and Voldemort doubted it would. Footsteps interrupted his musings.
“Listen,” Voldemort said preempting his servant. The mudblood’s screaming was reaching a crescendo of pain. “Bella does so love her work,” he turned. “Does she not, Minister?”
“My Lord.” Lucius Malfoy kneeled.
“Report,” Voldemort demanded.
“The Ministry has detected a mammoth source of magic.”
“Yes, I felt it. Tell me Lucius, have you managed to locate this…source?”
“Somewhere in London, my Lord. The Unspeakables were unable to be more precise.”
“Their wards held then,” Voldemort mused. “You must find it for me, Lucius. The Order is gathering its strength for one final campaign. Scour London. Search every street. Find the source and you will find them. If we strike before they are ready, we will crush them.” Voldemort smiled coldly. “You will not fail me.” It was a command, and it was a threat. Malfoy stood with a bow, and left. Voldemort did not watch him leave. The Dark Lord was engrossed in the song of agony.
The woman stood alone in the garden. The first pale rays of light whispered through the trees caressing the flowers. Birds had gathered all about her, robins, chaffinches, and sparrows, but the most magnificent of all sat perched on high, seeming to shine from within. As the day dawned, the Sunbird began to sing. It was not as haunting as the melodies of a Phoenix, and a trained ear would notice a stray note here and there, but the woman did not mind. A man had been meandering down the path, when the bird began. He had paused to watch the woman. His eyes soaked in her glee. With his tin ear, he could never appreciate the song of the Sunbird, but as always, her simple joy brought a smile to his face. When the song at last ended, the woman turned.
“You’re back,” Mrs. Potter said without surprise.
“I am,” Harold agreed. She peered at him curiously.
“You brought something with you,” she said. “Something new. I can see it fluttering about you like butterflies.” She bit her lip thoughtfully as she gazed up into his eyes.. Harold was silent. “Ah,” she said. “There it is. The Humdingers were hiding it.” She reached out and took Harold’s hands in hers. “You have purpose again. You’re practically overflowing.”
“You noticed.”
Harold smiled bashfully.
“Of course I did, silly. I notice everything.” She reached up to brush her lips against his. “She wants to see you,” Luna Potter said leaning back. “As soon as possible.”
“I know,” Harold said. “But Ariana can wait.”