He has a dog

Disclaimer: I won no property claimed by Warner Brothers.

AN: Blame Rorschach's Blot, this is number ten on the list of things he wanted to see in a fic.

"I... I may know someone who can help us," Bill said, nervously raking his thumb across the back of his left hand.

"Really?" Dumbledore asked, a bit surprised at seeing the normally fearless cursebreaker shudder.

"Son, are you OK?" Arthur asked as Fleur took Bill's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I-I'm fine," Bill assured him. "You'll understand once I explain."

The members of The Order Of The Phoenix exchanged glances and murmured to each other for a moment before quieting down.

"As a curse breaker I get to see things that most of the world doesn't know about, but it's not just things that wizards made and warded. Sometimes we run across... places..." his voice trailed off and the room was silent for a moment. "There are places that are hidden for a reason and even the goblins won't touch them. Magic doesn't work right, the stars above them, they aren't the same ones which shine on us here, and..."

"Get to the point, Weasley!" Snape ordered impatiently, his voice cutting harshly through the tense atmosphere which had been building around Bill's tale and the current silence as Bill stood there staring at nothing.

Molly took a deep breath and opened her mouth to tear Snape a new one when Bill spoke again, "Thanks, I needed that. The dementors aren't a species. You see, there was a muggle camp for young girls to spend the summer at in... um, you don't really need to know where. The girls ranged between nine and thirteen and the camp was beside a small lake. The lake had a ... shrine? Church I suppose you could call it, at the deepest point. Best as anyone can figure, a couple of college students who were working at the camp decided to investigate it and one of them brushed the clapper in the bell tower and it rang once, muffled by the water. Something almost awoke...briefly and it changed them. Everyone past puberty died, insane and screaming, until their heart burst or they managed to rip it out of their chests themselves. They were the lucky ones."

"The dementors are..." Dumbledore couldn't bring himself to ask.

"The youngest," Bill said softly, not wanting to look anyone in the eye.

"And how does this help us?" Snape demanded, trying to distract himself from something even he found horrifying.

"That was just an example of the kind of thing I'm talking about and it is one you can verify," Bill explained. "Believe me when I say that was mild compared to some of the things that happen. Now, there is a man who regularly investigates those sites and returns alive and... well I can't call anyone who willingly enters those places sane, but he's more there than Moody."

The laughter of the group held an edge of hysteria but it helped drive away some of the fear that permeated the air, as Fawkes added his own harmonic chuckle.

"He could help us," Bill said gravely. "Voldemort would be no more than a minor problem to him."

"Then why haven't you asked him to help already?" Sirius asked warily.

"Because his price isn't galleons," Bill explained. "If I ask him here to solve our problem everyone has to agree to whatever his price is and you have to understand what he deals with to realize what you're promising."

"So, what? He'd ask for our souls?" Mundungus asked nervously.

"I doubt he has a use for them," Bill said honestly. "But, he once took a curse breaker with him to a site and the man returned without his shadow."

"Was he OK otherwise?" Dumbledore asked.

"He was fine, he couldn't be magically traced anymore, and had to see a mindhealer for a couple of months. Eventually the mindhealer decided obliviation was the best way to handle things and he's fine now."

The members of The Order Of The Phoenix discussed things among themselves while Dumbledore stroked his chin.

"You've never mentioned anything like this before," Molly told her son.

"This kind of knowledge shouldn't be casually shared," Bill said shaking his head. "Some things draw power from thoughts about them. In fact I'll be casting a charm that helps people ignore the memory when everything is done."

"Can he really take care of Voldemort?" Arthur asked his son.

"I wouldn't have suggested him if I didn't think he could do it."

"I vote in favor," Dumbledore announced. "I'll volunteer myself to pay whatever the price is."

"That'll be up to him," Bill said.

"I call for a vote," Dumbledore announced. "All in favor?"

"Aye!" chorused the group.

"The Ayes have it," Dumbledore said seeing that even those who normally abstained had voted aye.

Everyone craned to stare at the hall leading to the front door as three resounding knocks echoed down it.

Dumbledore drew his wand and cast a couple of spells. "The fidelius is still up."

Bill got up. "That's probably him now. He has a way of just turning up."

"Inside a fidelius?!" Moody demanded gruffly.

"Yeah," Bill agreed. "I haven't seen a ward yet that he didn't just ignore."

"He must be one hell of a wizard," Sirius said.

"He's not a wizard, he's a muggle," Bill said as he went to answer the door. Ignoring the questions behind him he opened the front door.

"Bill! Is that you? Hey man, good to see you," the lanky dark haired man at the door said clasping forearms with him.

"It's me, Shag-" Bill began only to be interrupted.

"Call me Norville, my nickname just doesn't sound right around here, even if this is where I got it from."

Bill laughed and waved him inside moving back a little moving back a little to let the man's enormous dog in as well.

Dumbledore examined the man intently.

Norville was a couple of inches above six feet tall, though it would be hard to notice with the way he slouched. Faded blue Levis and an olive green T-shirt with an army jacket definitely marked him as a muggle, though looking into his dark brown eye, the left being covered by an eye patch, you could almost feel the weight of the secrets it held. A silver coin danced over the knuckles of his left hand as he studied the group and vice versa. "This is one creepy looking clubhouse, man."

"We're to trust a muggle to take out the dark lord?" Snape snorted and drew his wand. "A single stunner could take him out! Stupify!"

Norville lazily raised his left hand holding the silver coin between his thumb and forefinger and deflected the curse right back even brighter than it had been. Snape hit the wall hard enough to dent the plaster before falling limply to the floor, his wand rolling away. "Hey, Bill, introduce me to the hot chick," he said in the sudden silence.

Fleur and Tonks' eyes narrowed when Bill replied, "Sure."

Holding up an arm for Fawkes, who flew over obviously curious, he said, "Norville, Fawkes. Fawkes, Norville."

Fawkes trilled a series of notes but the usual feeling of peace and contentment was washed away when Norville whistled something in return that sent a wave of cold through the listener. Not an altogether unpleasant sensation, but one that left you feeling more aware than you'd ever been in your life.


"What do you think?" Harry asked Hermione as they watched the meeting on a mirror in the library.

"I think I'm glad Gabrielle doesn't speak English and I almost wish I didn't," Hermione said nodding to the little French girl who was sitting in Harry's lap.

Ron chuckled. Somehow Gabrielle had gotten the idea that since fiery birds like the phoenix could cheer people up then she should be able to too and had immediately appropriated Harry's lap on her arrival.

As far as Ron could tell she was right. Since she'd arrived Harry had relaxed a little and smiled more frequently. Gabrielle spoke not a word of English, nor Harry French, but that seemed not to bug either one in the least.


"...and that's the situation," Bill finished.

"Zoinks," Norville said shaking his head. "Heavy stuff, man. Well lets take care of Snape first."

Snape had finally come around after several attempts by Dumbledore, but was still groggy. "Huh?"

"Let me see your arm," Norville said as he pulled a small vial of clear liquid and a dirty handkerchief from his pocket.

Bill bared Snape's arm showing the dark mark. Wetting the rag with a tiny amount of liquid, Norville scrubbed at the dark mark, which ran and smeared like it was painted on. Wetting the handkerchief one more time he carefully cleaned the arm of all traces of the mark. Snape fell over and began to snore.

"How?" Dumbledore asked, clearly shocked. "That wasn't just a stain on his arm, it was a stain on his soul!"

Norville shrugged. "It all depends on how you look at it. Anything can be cleaned with the right soap and a little elbow grease," Norville said, grinning before he sighed and sorrow filled his eye. "Fred used to say that," he finished sadly.

"Thank you," Dumbledore finally said, unable to think of any other response.

"It's no problem, man," Norville replied. "Anyone else around here connected to the evil dude?"

"No, that should be all," Dumbledore said.

The door to the kitchen opened and Harry stepped in carrying Gabrielle who was not about to be removed. "That's not quite true."

Typing by: Stephenopolos