Disclaimer: I've been all about the oats the last couple weeks.

Acts of Mercy

Note: Part IV – Part I (Odd Ideas 165), Part II (Odd Ideas 166), Part III (Odd Ideas 168)

Amelia's brain locked up when Sirius Black burst into her office, bodily pulled her out from behind her desk and into a deep kiss, and then danced around the room.

"He's alive, Amy!" Sirius called out joyously, pulling her into another kiss. "He's alive!"

She gave the stand down signal to her worried security detail before they could do something unpleasant. Amelia didn't have to ask who 'he' was. There was only one piece of news that could cause Sirius Black to act like this, only one piece of information that would have him so drunk with joy that he capered around like a madman.

"Put me down, Sirius," she said calmly. "The sooner you come to your senses, the sooner we can go get him." It only took three repetitions before the man heard her.


She found herself back in her seat staring at the ecstatic faces of the Head of the Black family and the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Perhaps you could start by telling me what you know." It was not a request.

"Olivander tells me that Harry Potter bought his wand two hours ago," Dumbledore reported. "He says Harry is in good health and that he's absolutely terrifying."

"What?" Amelia asked flatly.

"He says Harry threatened him with death," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "He also says that the boy was confident and had a commanding presence. Don't you see, Amelia, he must have been treated well by whomever it was that took him."

"I find it a bit concerning that he made a threat against Olivander's life," Amelia said calmly. "I think that also says something about the people who took him."

"It's the same thing his grandfather would have done," Dumbledore waved off her concern. "He-" the old man froze. "Someone just entered Hogwarts."

"Flint!" Amelia yelled. "I want you and the duty squad with me. We're going to Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "Would you care for me to help with the portkey?"

"Please," she said gratefully.

"Mind if I use your floo while you're gone?" Sirius asked cheerfully. "I want to let the family know the good news."


'Place the pieces and the copy in the hall outside the door,' the voice said calmly. 'Call for Tinky."

"Tinky," Mercy called out.

"Tinky is here." The house elf tilted her head. "What is students doing at Hogwarts in summer?"

"Doing a favor for the Headmaster," Mercy repeated. "Place those things on his desk, please." She indicated the pieces and copy with the toe of her boot.

The house elf stared at her for a few moments. "Tinky will."

'Have Harry join you in the hall, this time walk back and fourth three times while thinking of a way to London.'

"What will that do?" Mercy asked as the young couple complied.

'Give you way back to London,' the voice stated. 'You will see a broken cabinet, the room will repair it to the point that it will take you to a small shop. The owner needs to die.'

"Alright," Mercy agreed. "We're going through a cabinet," Mercy stated as the door reappeared. "There'll be another target on the other side."

"Lovely." Harry offered his arm. "Shall we, my dear?"

"We shall, darling, we shall."


Dumbledore paused at the entrance of the castle and brought his full attention to the wards.

"They're gone." The old man frowned. "But there's something . . ."


Amelia silenced the Auror with a look. The old man needed to focus on the task at hand, he did not need the distraction of a junior Auror jogging his elbow.

"My office, I think," he said slowly. "If you could spare a few more minutes, Amelia."

"Of course," she agreed. "Jameson, Watts. I want you two on point. Flint, watch the rear, no smart comments."

"Of course not, boss."

They made surprisingly good time for a group of paranoid aurors expecting to find booby traps and ambushes around each corner and burdened with a pair of VIPs. It only took several times longer than it should have to reach the tower that held Dumbledore's office.

"Clear!" Jameson called down the stairs.

Dumbledore spotted the remains of the item that was giving the wards such fits. A priceless artifact sliced neatly in two sitting beside a perfect and intact copy. The old man's wand appeared in his hand.

Amelia and her Aurors watched as the old man hit the objects with every detection and diagnostic spell they knew and at least two dozen they didn't before he was satisfied.

"Is that what I think it is?" Amelia whispered.

"It is," Dumbledore sighed. "It was also used as a component for a very dark ritual, one best left unexplained."

"Need I remind you of what position I hold?" Amelia asked sharply.

"I will concede that you have a need to know in this instance, Amelia," Dumbledore stated calmly. "I will not extend that need to your Aurors. It is the blackest magic, one that goes beyond darkness into the relm of pure evil."

"I want you lot to wait outside while I-" the woman's eyebrows knit together in consternation. "Something just tripped the silent alarm in the Department of Mysteries." Something that normally wasn't cause for concern as the Unspeakable accidentally did it themselves every couple weeks, still, in light of the day she was having. "Flint, recall everything we have. I want to be ready to go back to the Ministry in three minutes."

"Would you like my aid, Amelia?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"It's probably nothing," the woman said absently. "I just find it interesting that something triggered the wards on the Department of Mysteries shortly after I left the Ministry shortly after someone triggered the wards on Hogwarts shortly after you left the castle."

"One hopes that it wasn't for the same reason," the old man agreed. "The thought of more than one of those . . . things in this country is beyond disturbing."


The fight had been a disappointment. The man had put up a pretty good struggle for a shopkeeper, but Harry had expected more from a purveyor of dangerous magical goods. With the ease of long practice, the two stripped the building of everything valuable or useful and departed to carry out their next task.

It would be another three days before the body was discovered. Investigating officer quickly decided it was due to a fall out between criminals. Amelia didn't learn about it till the end of the week when she was going over the reports, it never occurred to her that a routine murder could have anything to do with Harry Potter's miraculous resurrection and second disappearance.


Amelia had a sinking feeling when she got back to the office to find her old training officer waiting for her. The Department of Mysteries had been a bust, the Unspeakables unwilling to admit that the alarm had sounded and firm that even if it had, nothing had been taken. She'd left it to Dumbledore to wring answers out of the researchers and come back to see the makings of another mess.

"Looks like you could use a drink," Moody said with a grin.

"Let's have it." She braced herself for the worst.

"I was kidnapped earlier today," Moody said with a grin. "Good snatch, very good spell work on the ropes. So good that I'm afraid I almost disappointed a young lady because of them."

"You know who did it?"

"Barty Crouch Junior, bound to a chair in my sitting room with his head twisted around so he could've admired his backside before he expired if not for the whole sitting down thing."

"Did you?"

"You know me well enough not to have to ask that question, Amelia," Moody said flatly.

"You're the one who taught me to ask it anyway, Madeye."

"True." He snorted in amusement. "Answer's still no."


'Tell him to flare his magic and order Kreacher to appear,' the voice whispered.

"Kreacher!" Harry bellowed, following the instructions Mercy was whispering in his ear. "Show yourself!"

A gnarled face appeared in the second floor window. "What does bad master's half blood godson want?"

"Let us in, now!" Harry ordered.

The door creaked open and the two stepped inside.

"Tell him to bring you the locket, tell him it's long past time the thing was destroyed."

The house elf appeared as Harry opened his mouth. "Half blood godson can help Kreacher carry out good master's last order?" he asked, sounding both sullen and hopeful.

"It'll be the third we do today," Harry said calmly. "Two more and we'll finish the bastard and avenge your master."

The house elf dropped a small locket on the ground and stepped back, still eyeing the pair suspiciously.

"You're up, my dear," Harry said with a grin.

"I expect you to take me someplace nice after this," Mercy said, drawing her knife. "It's been a busy day."

"Of course, but only if you do the same for me."

"Two weeks somewhere warm and sandy after this?" she suggested as she brought the knife down, neatly bisecting the object and leaving a deep cut in the floor below it.

"At least," Harry agreed. "Private too." They both ignored the screaming black smoke.


"I had hoped to talk you into some rather scandalous swimwear, I do not wish to spoil the view or the trip with the murder of a few dozen onlookers."

"You say the sweetest things." She sheathed her blade. "Wait five minutes and have the wards alert the head of the family that someone's been here without his knowledge. Tell him everything after he arrives."

"Yes, great mistress," the house elf agreed, tears flowing down his cheeks. " Kreacher will do as you and the great master command."


Amelia drained her glass and poured herself another after a look at the Headmaster's face. In response, the old man transfigured a glass out of a quill.

"May I?"

"Go ahead," Amelia sighed. "Flint! Fetch another bottle!"

"Yes, boss."


"It is as I feared, the unspeakables had possession of another of the foul objects. It's been destroyed along with a few other things."

"You still haven't told me what they were, Dumbledore," Amelia pointed out.

"Raise the wards and refresh our glasses," Dumbledore ordered. The old man waited until the office was secure and added a dozen privacy charms. "Before we begin, know that I am willing to give you only the basics. I will die before I give information on their creation."

"Let's have it, then."

"It is possible, if one knows the way, to remove portions of one's soul and to place them in objects. These objects allow one to stay in this world after death."

"He's not gone," Amelia whispered.

"He is not," Dumbledore agreed.

"Damn it!"

"Indeed. Someone has managed to confirm something I feared, confirm it and hunt down the anchors tying Voldemort to this world."

"How many are there?"

"I do not know," Dumbledore admitted. "It shouldn't have been possible to create more than one. I shall make inquiries."


Mercy and Harry ignored the line of patrons as they strode to the counter to the first teller in line.

More than one angry comment was swallowed when the girl brutally backhanded the teller and grabbed him by both ears. It was none of their business, it didn't even bare any resemblance to anything that might have been their business. There was a stampede towards the door as the former patrons contemplated the likely response to violence in the bank.

As it happened, each one of them was wrong.

Mercy grunted as the goblin got in a good strike before sinking its teeth into her arm. With a vicious grin, the girl slammed her opponent into a marble column hard enough to crack it, causing the now dazed goblin to relax its jaw and the fight to be over.

"Hey, pay attention to me when I'm negotiating with you!" Mercy screamed, stamping on the goblin's left knee. "Wake up!"

"What can I do for you this time?" the lead teller asked, looking more than a bit amused by the situation.

"The Lestrange vault," Mercy said.

"What about it?"

"It contains an item forbidden by the treaty of 1238," Mercy said.

"What type of item?" the lead teller asked sharply.

In response, the girl grinned and crushed the teller's right knee.

"Of course, forgive me. What would you like in return for the information?"

"Seventy five percent of the vault, the chance to destroy the item, and two portkeys."

"The fact that you were not born a goblin is proof that our gods have forsaken us," he sighed. "Agreed on one condition."


"You allow me to select the teller you start negotiations with next time you have cause to patronize Gringotts," the lead teller stated. "This one is one of my best and now he's going to be unproductive for at least a week while he recovers."

"No. I choose this one cause he looked like the most challenging one, I'm not going to waste my time with a bunch of wimps."

"Forgive me, I keep having trouble with the fact that you're the wrong shape and I start treating you like a human again. Agreed on the condition that you spend at least five minutes on my number three teller and with the understanding that all future deals will include you helping one of my tellers practice the fine art of negotiations."

"Deal!" Mercy said with a grin. She picked up her former opponent and flung him across the bank at her next.

"You just made her a very happy girl," Harry said with a grin. "Thank you for that."

"If she were a goblin I'd challenge you to a fight to the death and present her with your still beating heart," the lead teller said wistfully.

"You'd try," Harry replied. "And then I'd force you to eat your reproductive organs for her entertainment."

"You're luckier than any human has a right to be," the lead teller laughed. "Where to you want your portkeys to take you?"

"The first to the Gaunt shack in Little Hangleton. The second." The boy paused to consider the matter. "Find a nice deserted beach somewhere in the Ryukyu chain, say a day or two from Naha by boat."

"Within easy apparation range." The lead teller nodded. "Of course."

"She's fond of Rafute," Harry stated.

"I see." The goblin made a mental note to look the dish up. "Yourself?"

"I'm happy when she's happy," Harry said simply. "Any food's okay to me so long as there's enough of it."

Mercy was glowing when she returned to the pair. Her knuckles were skinned and there was a growing red stain on her abdomen. "One of the guards objected to being used as a club and not being able to join the fun. It was wonderful, I'm definitely going to want to take one of them on again."

"I'll see that something is arranged for next time," the lead teller promised. He gestured for the number six teller to approach with the portkeys. "The activation phrase is 'I love goooooold, isn't zat weerd?' Shall we take care of your business in the vaults now or would you like to try another of my tellers?"

Mercy's eyes lit up. "I-" she drooped. "We don't have the time today."

"Pity. This way."


Amelia resisted the urge to scream when she saw Sirius and Draco Black headed towards her office with identical looks of mischief on their faces. No one who'd known the boy's father would ever have suspected that he'd turn out as he had, a prankster that bore a strong resemblance to the head of his family at a similar age.

His mother's influence, she decided. Say what you would about Narcissa Black, formerly Malfoy, but she was a survivor. One willing to switch sides at a moment's notice and to do anything to ensure the survival of herself and her offspring. Few in the country were more motivated to see that all traces of Lucius Malfoy were eraced to the point that people began forgetting who the boy's father had been.

"Have a seat, Draco," Sirius waved for the boy to take one of the free chairs in her office while he took the other. "Got some wonderful news for you, Amy, just stupendous."

"What happened?" she growled. To think, she'd wanted the bastard to be more like his old self earlier that day.

"I called the family to tell them the good news and so I we could discuss our search strategy," Sirius reported. "Everyone agreed to drop what they were doing and to come to Diagon to see if they could find anything. Goblins told Draco that-"

"How was he able to get them to tell him anything?" Amelia interrupted.

"Not sure," Sirius admitted cheerfully. "Think he trades them information for information. He is his mother's son after all."

The boy in question beamed at the compliment.

"A better role model would be hard to find," Sirius continued. "Aside from myself of course, and I haven't exactly been myself for over a decade so we'll have to forgive him for not taking after me since he'd never met me." Sirius and the boy sported matching looks of mischief.

"Fine." Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Proceed."

"As I was saying, goblins told Draco that he would be wise not to meddle in their affairs." Sirius nodded to the boy.

"I told them that I didn't want to meddle, just wanted to connect with a family member I hadn't met. Goblins understand that, family I mean. So they offered to pass a message for me, told me that it might take a while, that they'd only talked to the two of them twice in as many years, but that they were willing to do it for a scandalously reasonable rate."

"I see." Amelia mulled it over for a bit. "What did you say in your message?"

"Just that the family would like to reconnect and that we would be pleased to meet with them at the time and in the place of their choosing."

"See if they're willing to include me in that meeting if and when you get a response," Amelia ordered. "What else is there?"

"What makes you think there's something else?" Sirius asked innocently.

"Are you asking for a practical lesson on the difference between police brutality and regular brutality?" Amelia asked sweetly. "Because it sounds to me like you're volunteering to help me stress test my new truncheon with your reproductive organs."

"Harry and his friend came to the house while we were meeting," Sirius said cheerfully. "Had Kreacher, our house elf, let them through the wards."

"I can't imagine he was happy about that," Amelia said dryly, having had the dubious pleasure of the house elf's acquaintance on more than one occasion.

"He was crying when we got home," Draco said. "Crying and clutching the broken pieces of a locket. I've never seen him so happy."

"What?" Amelia's eyebrows knit together. Trying to will the pieces together in a way that made sense. "What are you not telling me?"

"My brother betrayed the dark lord," Sirius blurted. "Reg was entrusted with an item, one made with the blackest magic, magic my family has avoided. He was horrified when he realized what it was and told Kreacher to destroy it."

Amelia went still. That was three. Much as she hated to admit it, this was information she needed to share with the Chief Wizard.

"Failing drove the old boy mad," Draco said. "Well, madder if the stories I've heard are true."

"He apologized, Amy, said he was wrong and that I had the greatest godson in the world and that Harry was a credit to the Black family."

"He's-" Amelia froze. "Son of a bitch," she said in wonder. "How did they do it?"

"Do what?"

"Arrange things so they could break into the most heavily warded castle in Scotland and the most heavily warded private residence in England, and the bloody Department of Mysteries in the same day?"

Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of gold coins which he handed to Draco. Go annoy your cousin when this runs out.

"Tell my aide to get Dumbledore back here on your way out," Amelia added.

The boy glanced between the faces of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and the Head of his family and left without a word of complaint.

"Three places, Amy?" Sirius said flatly. "Did each one posses an item?"

"Yes. All for the same individual too so far as we can tell."

"That's not possible," Sirius said firmly.

"That's what the Headmaster said right before he admitted he was wrong."

"Damn it!" The man's fist came down on her desk. "Did he tell you what they were?"

"Just the basics," she admitted.

"It's not the sort of information even dark families like to get out," Sirius said. "Even the Blacks thought it bad business. Did he tell you how to destroy them?"

"Fiend fire."

"Along with basilisk venom and a couple of the less savory spells," Sirius agreed. "Killing curse might do it as well."


Peter awoke to a slap across the face, meaning the next seven were unfair and should never have happened in his opinion.

"Hi ya, Wormy!" a voice said cheerfully.

The man's pupils shrank to pin pricks. "James?"

"He's seeing things."

"Do you think a few more hits will cure him?" an unfamiliar female voice said thoughtfully.

"Couldn't hurt."

Peter begged to differ, it certainly could and did hurt. "Harry?" he ventured.

"Bingo!" the boy cheered. "You were right, my dear, hitting him did cure him."

"Harry, please-" another series of strikes convinced Peter that keeping his mouth shut would be better for his health.

"Now you may be wondering why you're still alive," Harry said cheerfully. "Mainly, it's because I wanted you to know that I've destroyed the anchors holding your master to this world and sent him to the next. The other reason is that Mercy and I had a bet."

"I bet him that I could break all one hundred and twenty six bones in your appendicular skeleton without killing you," the terrifying woman whispered.

"I told her that I'd like to see that and so here we are," Harry said with a wide grin. "We'll let you choose the first bone."

"Harry please, you have to understand that he'd have killed me! I didn't want to do it, please! You have to forgive me, Harry!"

"Bold move," Harry said in surprise. "Lower jaw it is."

Mercy slapped the man again, this time hard enough to pulverize the bone in question. "That's not part of the appendicular skeleton," Mercy sniffed.

"I'm guessing that anatomy was never his subject," Harry whispered. "Let's not dwell on it, we don't want to make him feel self conscious about it."

"Of course not," Mercy agreed, stomping the toes on the man's left foot to powder. "Time?"

"Another five minutes before we should take that second portkey, my dear, no need to rush."


Two dozen Aurors were on point as Amelia's forces approached the building that had been the source of the second class six disturbance since the end of the war.

"Clear!" the team leader called out. "Boss, I think we found something you need to see."

It was a familiar scene, one almost identical to the one she'd been to earlier that day with Barty Crouch Junior. This time it was Peter Pettigrew, what was left of him anyway, tied to a chair with a broken neck.

"I think you need to take a look at this, Amelia," Dumbledore's voice held none of its usual confidence.

"What is it?" she snapped.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, it is the mortal remains of Tom Riddle." The old man smiled. "You would know him by the name he chose for himself, Voldemort."


"In the cradle." The old man indicated a lump of blood and flesh. "And while I would need time to examine them in order to be absolutely sure, I believe the broken items with him are the remains of the last anchors he used to tie himself to this world."

"What does this mean?"

"It means he's gone for good, Amelia. We no longer need fear his return."


The grin on Harry's face threatened to split his face as he watched Mercy shimmy up the palm to retrieve another coconut. He blessed the tree and the things it made her body do to claim its bounty. Sometimes, it was good to be Harry Potter. This was one of those times.

AN: This would conclude the Harry Potter arc of the story. Think the next section would involve the Justice League. Format would be the same, Power and Perfection drift into town and either kill someone or destroy an artifact of some sort. Drift out again. Killing someone would put them in the sights of the league which would bring all sorts of possibilities for conflict. Grundy? Trigon? May have to think about that.

Not sure why but Yahoo ate most of the replies for this one on my group. Odd that. Also had a lot of trouble getting this onto the pit of voles. Looks like this is one fic our secret AI overlords didn't want you to read.

Omake by Veive

Dick woke up early - early for normal people, not just for him - to a commotion outside his apartment building.

He peeked out the window to find his view partially obstructed by some kind of paint. With what little he police cordoning off the street below, while more police stared at the building. Dick changed into street clothes as quickly as he could and exited his apartment, calmly locking it behind him before making his way to the stairs.

Once he exited the building he was hustled across the street by the Police while they asked him a half-dozen questions before handing him off to the paramedics before bustling off.

Then dick stole a glance back at his apartment building and froze.

There was something that he'd never forget. Then, you didn't forget a face like Trigon's. 30 foot tall demon kings were like that. Of course you didn't expect to see 30 foot tall demon kings crucified on the front of your apartment building either.

Dick pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed a number.

"Hey Gar." He greeted. "Where's Rae?" Dick looked back at his building. "Can you check to make sure she's still there, and that she's ok?" Dick paused for a moment. "Just a hunch. I'll fill you in later, but I think she may need a hand. Thanks Gar."

Unrelated Omake by me: You Need to See Me

Harry was halfway through his transfiguration homework when they came. Dumbledore and two Order members he didn't know. With a snort, the boy checked the clock. Too late, too bad.

"You said you needed to speak with me, Harry?" the Headmaster opened things, indicating to the two members that they should wait outside the door with a wave of his hand.

"No." The boy disagreed. "I said you needed to speak with me. Is there some reason you didn't knock?"

"Your note said it was urgent," Dumbledore stated.

"So urgent that you ignored it for three hours," the boy said cheerfully. "Too late now anyway, they're all dead."

The old man's wand appeared and a dozen privacy charms settled over the room. "Explain." The grandfather disappeared and in his place was the face of the only man the dark lord ever feared.

"No point," Harry replied, turning back to his homework. "I trust that you three can show yourselves out."

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed, shifting to another tactic. "Please."

"Did you know that Snape put trackers on everyone that went to the Ministry at the end of the last term,?" Harry asked.

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore stated.

"Can a man be a professor if he doesn't teach?" Harry replied. "You didn't answer my question."

"I didn't see the harm in it," the old man admitted. "Their addresses were matters of public record and a small show of giving Voldemort information he could easily get for himself could do much to help Severus maintain his cover."

"No point in that either," Harry said. "Not anymore."

"Who's dead, Harry?"

"Not sure," the boy admitted. "Snape at a minimum. Tried to warn you, but we already discussed how that went."

"Severus is . . ."

"Voldemort decided to use your spy's harmless information to kill my friends," Harry stated. "Seems the ability to find their locations wasn't quite as harmless as you thought it was. Snape was supposed to be the leader of the team sent to murder Hermione, Draco was quite eager to get a chance to, quote 'show the mudblood bitch her place' end quote. Snape even went so far as to promise to let him go second."

"How do you know all this, Harry?" The old man looked sick.

"You aren't the only one capable of placing spies," Harry stated calmly.

"I take it from your demeanor and your claim that Severus is dead that Ms Granger and your other friends have not been harmed?"

"It's relatively easy to transfer tracking charms if one knows the trick of it," Harry said. "Place them on an object, place that object in a vault at Gringotts, and trust that nature will take its course. It did, incidentally, and Voldemort was so put out when he realized what had happened that he killed another seven of his followers after that. The ones who made the portkeys, the one that brought him the bad news, and a couple that had the misfortune to be in the same room." Harry handed the old man a stack of papers. "Be a good sport and get that to McGonagall, would you?"

"Harry, you're sure-"

"I'm glad we had this little talk, I trust you can show yourself out." Harry pulled out his charms assignment. "Oh, and I trust you'll take me seriously in the future when I tell you the matter is urgent."