Ginny checked on Taryn, then Jacqueline, her thoughts turning to Kayla quickly. She was being unusually quiet for this time of the night, having a second burst of energy before she found Kayla in bed, looking at a book. Ginny sat on the edge of the bed, coughing to get Kayla’s attention.

‘What are you looking at?’ Ginny asked, Kayla looking a little embarrassed, as if she’d just been caught out.

‘The photo’s, Mum,’ Kayla said slowly. She flicked to one page, Ginny guessing it was James and Lily standing side by side at their wedding. ‘Are they Dad’s parents?’

‘They are, why do you ask?’ Ginny replied.

‘I can’t find any pictures of you or Dad like that,’ Kayla replied, her inquisitive nature directing her questions. ‘You’re like my old Mum and Dad, you both got rings, but no photos.’

‘That’s a good point Kayla, Harry and I are married, but we never had a ceremony. Last year wasn’t the best for us,’ Ginny started. ‘We found each other and we made things get better.’

‘Why don’t you have one this year?’ Kayla asked, her question genuine.

‘We never thought about it,’ Ginny answered after a moment. ‘Why don’t you get some sleep soon. It’s pretty late.’

‘Okay Mum, good night,’ Kayla said, placing Harry’s photo album on the side table. Ginny kissed Kayla’s forehead, the small girl smiling happily. ‘Do you think Dad will be home soon?’

‘No, I don’t, but when he does get in I’ll tell about your idea,’ Ginny promised, Kayla shutting he eyes and pulling the soft white blanket up to her chin. Sleep on your back and you don’t squash your nose.

Ginny sighed, looking out of the window, feeling Harry’s worry intensify, whatever it was lost in the distance. She couldn’t help but worry herself, her own worries amplified many times by his. She stayed sitting on Kayla’s bed, the small girl warmed by her presence, sleeping peacefully despite all of the violence in the world.

Ginny thought about the small girl’s question, wondering for a moment why they never wanted a ceremony. She remembered the events of the previous year, her own time as a Sith excluded from her thoughts, taking her time. She and Harry had talked through so much, yet the issue of a ceremony never presented itself. She was happy with the way things had turned out, and she guessed Harry was as well. If he wanted a ceremony, he would have organised it, that was the Harry she knew, and love.

With a final look out of the window, then at Kayla, stopping to brush some hair from her face, whatever magic that came from the adoption had changed the girls slightly, Taryn showing minor signs of magic, her toys always seeming to change place between the night and the morning. Kayla had her hair change slowly towards a very deep brown, something that reminded Ginny of Harry’s hair. Unlike Harry’s, it was very easy to control.

She closed the door silently, looking at the fireplace, desperately waiting for Harry to return. Her final thoughts turned to the fight that day, the Force guiding her thoughts down paths that scared her. She called the destination out, the fire turning green on her will alone.

Carth was a soldier to the heart, he spent far too much time in the service of Republic to be anything but. He didn’t understand the reason why Revan asked him for a set of blasters, till he saw the old man sitting in front of Harry. He passed out the rifles quickly, Bastila still preferring her lightsabre. Revan and Harry kept the blasters trained on the old man, Carth’s own added to the list.

‘I promise I mean you no harm, but I applaud your caution in these times,’ the man started, blue eyes glowing.

‘He’s a Lightsider, I know that much,’ Bastila started.

‘If he is who I think it is,’ Harry started, charging the blaster. ‘Then he’s come as far as both of you have.’

‘Indeed I have, and I will ask for your names after I tell you mine,’ the old man said, looking at the barrel of Harry’s blaster. ‘I am Gellert Grindelwald, the former Dark Lord.’

‘Interesting choice of words,’ Harry said flatly. ‘You have quite a tale to weave old man.’

‘I do, but names I feel I should know all of you before I start, Harry I recognise,’ Gellert said, then looked at Bastila. ‘You are a relation of Lily Potter, I swear it.’

‘She’s not, her name is Bastila, I’m Revan, Carth is a friend,’ Revan explained.

‘Impossible, I’m sure of it,’ Gellert countered. ‘The hair and eyes, only someone directly related to her could carry such features.’

‘Whatever she may be, you promised a tale,’ Harry said flatly. ‘One I hope answers questions, unlike another.’

‘I know of Albus and how he treated you. Magic itself screamed your pain to the world,’ Gellert said. ‘Every beating of yours I felt through my second magic. It was then I realised so much...’

‘Then why wait to break out?’ Harry muttered.

‘I still had so much to learn, it wasn’t time,’ Gellert said sadly. ‘I saw so much of your time at Hogwarts. You faced such incredible danger, fought things I still fear to encounter to this day, but you never fell into the traps that I, Albus or Riddle fell for. You stayed grounded while others flew so high they touched stars. I envy you, Harry Potter, not only for the Hallow kept in your line, but for what you found in your short years.’

‘Am I the only one confused or do you have no idea what a hallow is?’ Carth asked Revan, looking just as confused as Carth was.

‘I didn’t think I would have to explain so much, Gellert said. ‘This is a tale told among the old families, one you will tell one day Harry. One soon I feel. Three brothers meet Death, and they best him in a game of chance or trickery, very little of that is truly known. What is known that three artefacts came of it, an unbeatable wand, a ring to conquer death, and a cloak to hide what is under it from all eyes. You Harry, have the third hallow.’

‘My father’s invisibility cloak is a hallow?’ Harry asked.

‘It is, I’ve heard of its powers, so unlike others made in its image,’ Gellert said, he looked at the table, producing a rough hessian bag from his sleeve. ‘I offer you the second hallow. The ring that allows the bearer to cross the river of death, and speak to those who have travelled beyond it. I dare not use it’s gift yet, as it is cursed with a soul split far too many times.’

‘Horcrux,’ Harry whispered, Gellert nodding his reply.

‘Is this... like the Sith necropolis and the thrones in some of the tombs?’ Carth asked. ‘I scouted them briefly, there was little left of the academy thereafter the civil war.’

‘The empty thrones infused with the essence of the old Sith Lords,’ Revan explained, seeing the confusion on one side of the table, matched on the other.

‘A good analogy, Revan, though a horcrux is far darker. It requires the murder of an entirely innocent soul to force it to split, then it is implanted into an item so that wizard may never die,’ Gellert said He looked through the clear ceiling, the stars above glowing faintly.

‘Or person,’ Harry said, placing his blaster on the table, the barrel pointing away from Gellert. ‘I knew the word, just not the details. If what I got from the horcrux I carried, then there are others. Two might be destroyed, but at least three more remain.’

Revan and Carth looked at each other, trusting Harry they added their blasters to the table, taking seats. Bastila stayed leaning against the wall, Harry sensing Helena nearby, though she was sound asleep for the moment.

‘The second hallow is also one of the horcruxes, I feared to destroy it, powerful magic has a high cost,’ Gellert said, no more words needed.

‘It nearly killed me removing the horcrux I carried,’ Harry said, his words finally processed by Gillert.

‘How... how could a child carry such a burden? Why did it not destroy you?’ Gellert asked.

‘I’m Harry,’ Harry said, as if it explained everything. ‘It sucked my magic away, I don’t know.’

‘There is alot even I don’t know,’ Gellert started, then sighed as if ages had been added to his years. ‘There is so much more I want to tell you, but this not the time yet. Finding that ring cursed me to die before the end of this school year. I wish to find a little peace before I go, maybe even make it up to an old friend.’

‘How old, Gellert?’ Ollivander asked. ‘I find myself awake at this hour and I see you. Do my old eyes deceive me?’

‘They don’t old friend,’ Gellert replied, looking tired, yet happy at the same time.

‘Forgive two old men for hijacking your conversation,’ Ollivander started, only to be interrupted by Revan.

‘Don’t worry about it, we’ve got a lot to talk about,’ Revan said, indicating everyone else at the table. Bastila looked to the entrance, Ginny appearing through the door, her expression worried beyond belief.

‘Perhaps it’s time we leave the young to plan their war,’ Ollivander said to Gellert, both old men walking slowly out of the council room.

Susan looked at the magazine on the stand by the newsagent and saw red. She saw her and Harry during their training in the last Hogwarts year and it was written they were seeing each other, outside of Harry’s marriage. She started to mutter, the few other teens in the store looking at her, then at the magazine, before swarming towards her. When one of them reached to slap her reflexes gained from training with Harry kicked in, the girl had a hand print across her cheeks, coming from her own hand.

‘You bitch!’ the bottle brunette shrieked.

Least I can think Susan thought, walking out of the shop, only to have a camera flash blind her. Thinking quickly the camera in the man’s hand fell from his hands, crushed into something resembling a ball of paper, the cameras case compressed down to the size of a golf ball. She walked through the Leaky Cauldron, her class for the day turned into three, taking an advanced class by the request of Revan. She liked teaching the advanced class, the few students respecting her unlike some of the boys from the other classes, looking down on her, or tried to look down her top, till they ended up on the matt.

She flooed back to her home with her aunt, her aunt matching her expression.

‘I saw it today, I think I should talk to Harry and Ginny, four is far scarier than one,’ Amelia said, not needing anything beyond her nieces expression to read her.

‘I can think of a few more, actually,’ Susan said, her eyes glowing with inspiration.

Amelia smiled, seeing the same fire her sister had in her in her daughter. The magazine would be lucky if they printed another issue that involved Harry in any way, shape or form. Except of course, if it was a retraction.

A/N: Sorry guys, I'm a little off my game. The pills for my cold/sore throat do funny things to my head. I hate taking any type of pills, but it's that bad.