Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: I haven't posted in this story in a year, but I thought I'd give you all a Christmas present.
S/N 2: I just figured I'd write another continuing chapter for this story since it still has the Christmas theme.
Chapter 46: Boxing Day
Early in the morning, Harry and Tonks both finished their breakfast, said their goodbyes to their young daughter and their youngest son and flooed to Number 12 Grimmauld Place for the Order of the Phoenix meeting that had been planned for the day. While Harry had nothing specific to speak to the Order about prior to breakout at Azkaban, now that the former Death Eaters were back out on the streets, he wanted to see if anyone had any new information.
Many of the members were already there when they arrived. They both headed over to the table on the opposite side of the basement, and said hello to their two children, Janus and Arcturus. Once Harry saw that everyone was set and their seats filled, he sat down in his chair at the head of the table, Sirius to his left and the seat to his right empty, as Cedric would not be attending the meeting, having duties to see to as the Minister of Magic. Additionally, the seat to Sirius's left was open, as Kingsley was running a bit late, having informed Harry of the amount of work the breakout had left for him, but promising that he would get there as soon as he could.
"I'm sure you've all heard the news," Harry started, not really needing to tell them what had happened as it was in the papers already. "There was prison break at Azkaban at three o'clock in the morning late last night. All of the former Death Eaters were freed from their cells. I will meet with Cedric later tonight and discuss things that he hasn't told the public just yet, while Kingsley should arrive here any second."
"Any idea on how it happened?" Many of the members of the Order questioned, wanting to know if Kingsley knew the specific details that had yet to be released to the public.
"Two very powerful people subdued the guards, overcame the trolls, and drove the dementors away, before they entered the cells and released the prisoners," Kingsley answered as he walked down the stairs and joined the meeting. "To be more specific, they broke through the gates at the head of the fortress, managed to overtake the half of dozen guards, knocked out the trolls with a few curses, and then drove away the dementors—they were smart, however, and imperiused one of the guards to use his patronus to do it as to not give themselves away. It was a well executed plan. We know how they did it, but unfortunately, we do not yet know the more important details as we don't have any idea on who it was."
"Could it be Barty Crouch?" A suggestion came, though Harry didn't know who it ws from. "He escaped and was never seen since, so it kind of makes sense. He came back to have his revenge just as Stephen Cornfoot promised."
"Barty wouldn't do that," Kylie shook his head in the negative, truly not believing htat Barty Crouch would lead a strike against Azkaban. "He may eventually come back, but he's not going to put himself into a position that he will be caught, I don't believe."
"Peter Pettigrew?" Another suggested, seemingly tossing out names in order to elicit a discussion.
"He's probably still living as a rat, he doesn't have the strength to return," Sirius growled, having not heard the name of his former friend for two decades. He inwardly hoped Peter was dead, killed by a cat, though he knew that was probably unlikely and the rat-like wizard was living his life as a human in some distant place.
"Falstaff Ipswich?" Tonks questioned, earning a mutter from everyone around the table. Some around the table were voicing displeasure at the possibility, while others looked around confusedly, asking their neighbor whether they knew who Falstaff Ipswich was or not.
"Who is that?" A red-headed girl at the far end of the table inquired, asking the question that was on the minds of many of her generation. With light freckles and a youthful face, she was a young witch that had been recruited by Arcturus, having been in the same year of Hogwarts at the wizard.
"That sounds like a fake name," laughed a younger member down at the end of the table, all agreeing that it sounded like a name from a book rather than one parents would actually give their child.
"That's because it is," Harry murmured, remembering the wizard thoroughly, having spent many a sleepless nights trying to hunt him down. "It's a pseudonym."
"He's a dark wizard that escaped from Harry and me over twenty years ago, when Harry was first starting as a Hit Wizard," Shacklebolt added, staring down at the end of the table, where most of the people without knowledge of Ipswich were seated. "He fled the country before we were able to corner him."
"You never caught him?" The same red-head questioned, surprised that two wizards of Harry and Shacklebolt's caliber weren't able to take down a wizard.
"No," Harry shook his head in the negative. "But it's not him, it's not his M.O. He was a lot more bombastic than this; we'd know it was him as he wouldn't allow us to not know."
"Plus, he's not that powerful," Shacklebolt finished, recalling that Falstaff's abilities wouldn't allow him to attack Azkaban head on and free the inmates. He was a good wizard, sure, and would have been one of the top Death Eaters if he would have joined with them, on a level of Barty Crouch Jr., Quirinus Quirrell or Bellatrix Lestrange, but he was not powerful enough to do what the two wizards who attacked Azkaban had done.
"Which means we're back to square one," Harry sighed, before looking down the table. "What about from you, Kylie? Is there any word from the Death Eaters?"
"I haven't talked to anyone just yet, but I'm positive I'll have a few at my house later tonight," Kylie replied, his shadowed face not revealing his true identity. While many there new exactly who he was, the younger generation were still in the dark, allowing him to continue the ruse that he wasn't Theodore Nott. "I'll write in my journal as soon as I hear from them."
"Very well," Harry nodded in understanding, knowing that he had no choice but to be patient. Eventually, the threat against them all would reveal him or herself, but until then, stressing was not going to help matters. "Does anyone have anything else?" Seeing their silence, he sighed before giving a small smile, calling the meeting to an end. "Okay, Merry Christmas, I hope you all had a good holiday. Sorry it had to end this way."
Nearly everyone got up and started walking up the stairs, talking quietly amongst each other. Despereaux Barnaud, meanwhile, headed towards Harry, who was still sitting in his seat, presumably waiting to speak with the other people that were still seated, which included Janus, Lucida, Arcturus and Sirius. "Harry, I didn't want to say this in front of everyone," Despereaux started, leaning down to whisper in Harry's head. "But I got a message from my father to meet him in an hour. I'll find out what he knows and get back to you."
"You know the deal, keep him out of eyesight and we'll turn the other eye to him," Harry replied, knowing that Rabastan wouldn't be a problem as he wasn't on top of the list of Azkaban prisoners.
"Will do," Despereaux nodded, as he and Neville walked up the stairs to the first floor. They sat at the kitchen table with Kylie and a few other members of the Order for a half an hour or so before they both apparated away with a loud crack, having planned to meet Rabastan at a specific time.
The duo appeared in an alley with a few rubbish bins and empty boxes, before existing and making their way down street. They walked a block or two before stopping in front of an abandoned building, a former restraurant well passed its glory. Looking in the alley next door, they looked up and down before seeing a man that looked like a muggle homeless person, with his long, matted hair and robes that were falling off his frame. Quietly, they made their way towards him, the man seeing them approach and smiling as a result.
"Dad," Despereaux said, giving the thin and unkempt wizard a hug. His arms encompassed Rabastan's entire body, showing just how much the wizard had shrunk at he withered away in Azkaban for over two decades.
"It's good to see you, Desperaux," Rabastan said happily with a nearly toothless smile on his relatively gaunt face. "Merry Christmas!"
"Joyeux Noel to you," Despereaux replied with a small smile, surprised that his father had the energy to wish him such an exuberant Christmas greeting. While it was true that Azkaban was much better than it was previously, with the guards giving them more food and the few dementors not being allowed to suck out their emotions, it was still Azkaban, a prison, with no sunlight and no freedom, which drained your will to live nearly as much as the dementors had done in the past. "You remember Neville, don't you?"
"Of course," Rabastan nodded in agreement, flicking his eyes over to the wizard he had saved numerous times, after allowing something terrible to happen to him when he was younger. "I'm glad to see you okay, Longbottom."
"Let's get you cleaned up," Neville said, pulling Rabastan into the back of the alley so the muggles couldn't see, and taking out his wand. He waved it while muttering a spell, and in an instant, Rabastan's tattered robes were clean and like new, which his dirtied face was cleaner, as if he showered himself.
"There's a café down the street, do you want to grab something to eat?" Despereaux suggested, presuming that his father was quite hungry from the long journey.
"Sure," Rabastan agreed, his stomach growling. While he knew he couldn't eat much, having had a minimal daily meal for the past two decades, he was clamoring for something that wasn't prison food. "Did you recognize the building?" He asked Despreaux as they walked, who nodded next to him with a small, reminiscing smile.
"It's the building I told you to come to when I wanted to talk," Despereaux replied, remembering when he owled his father and discussed things with him after learning about his father's exploits from Neville. "I'm surprised it's still abandoned."
They continued to walk down the street until they reached the café. Rabastan was shivering when they entered, and he quickly took a seat, too tired to do anything else. Neville and Despereaux both walked to the counter to get some drinks and some food, returning a few minutes later with three teas. "I'm the last one left," Rabastan said, a strange smile on his face. "After Dolohov died a year or two ago, I don't know exactly when—it's impossible to keep time in that place since you can't see the sun—I was the last Death Eater from the first war left."
"What are you going to do?" Despereaux questioned, wondering what his father's plan was in regards to his actions after escaping Azkaban. "Run?"
"No," Rabastan shook his head in the negative, having no intention of fleeing. "I told you that night at Hogwarts that I'm not running, Despereaux. I'll wait until Potter defeats this guy and then turn myself in. I'm a terrible wizard now so it's not like I'd be able to run very far either way."
"Terrible wizard?" Neville questioned, remembering how powerful Rabastan was before his time in Azkaban. Before his second stint in Azkaban, Rabastan had been a strong enough wizard to take down Bellatrix Lestrange in her prime, which was a considerable feat with all things considered, making him quite the potent Death Eater in Neville's opinion.
"I've spent a combined forty-five years in Azkaban, Longbottom." Rabastan replied with a laugh, knowing full well that his powers were all but gone. "My abilities have withered away. I barely remember how to apparate, let alone perform spells or make potions."
"Where will you go?" Neville asked, wanting to know if Rabastan had any sort of plan at all.
"Don't know," Rabastan answered, enjoying the freedom that he had. There was no Rodolphus or Bellatrix or Voldemort to demand servitude from him—his life was not his to control, to do with as he pleased.
"Why don't you go visit mom?" Despereaux suggested, wanting his father to get out of the country, even if Rabastan didn't want to do it himself.
Rabastan's gaze jumped to his son, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. A flicker of emotion appeared on his face, one of clear love, presumably for Despereaux's aforementioned mother. "Would she want to see me?"
"She hasn't remarried, so I assume she wouldn't mind it," Despereaux shrugged, not really knowing, but making an assumption that she would. While they did talk about Rabastan relatively often, it was never in the form of him coming back to live with her, so he didn't know how his mother would react, but he hoped that it would be positive.
"I may do just that." Rabastan nodded, hoping against hope that his ex-wife would allow him to stay with her for a while. He had screwed up his life so badly that the idea of Solange taking him back seemed almost as if it was a Christmas miracle, something that one could dream about but never actually attain.
"If you don't intend on running, why did you leave in the first place?" Neville asked confusedly, not understanding why Rabastan would leave Azkaban in the first place if he didn't intend on staying out of prison for good.
"Because I would have been killed," Rabastan replied with a laugh. "And I get to see my son and you, Longbottom, why wouldn't I take the opportunity?"
"Do you know who broke you out?" Despereaux questioned, seeing the opportunity to gather information that would hopefully help the Order of the Phoenix.
"No," Rabastan said, leaning back as three orders of fish and chips were delivered to the table. "All I know is that there were two of them, they told us to be ready to join the fight against the Ministry and then they disappeared."
"That's it?" Despereaux questioned, not understanding what was going on.
"That's it," Rabastan agreed, having thought it was a bit weird while it was happening.
Shaking his head in confusion, Despereaux took a large bite from his fish. The conversation eventually evolved into Despereaux and Neville filling Rabastan in on what they had been doing over the past two decades, with both getting married and starting families—to Tracy Davis and Hannah Abbot, respectively. After their meal was finished, Despereaux and Rabastan said their goodbyes to Neville, and both left for France, where Rabastan would hopefully find a home with Solange, his ex-wife and Depereaux's mother.
Meanwhile, Lucida and Janus had just entered Diagon Alley, heading straight for the wandshop in the distance. The alley was still bustling, even with the breakout the night before, with witches and wizards going in and out of the various shops around. About halfway between Knockturn Alley and the beginning of Diagon Alley, there was a large sign on the front of a building that was labeled 'Potter Wands and Mends'. The color of the sign was blue, while the lettering was green and had a wand forming the upper line of the P.
The pair entered the store, a bell ringing out to signify their arrival. "I'll be with you in just one moment," Arcturus's voice came from the back room, presumably he was working on something.
"It's just us," Lucida returned, announcing their presence. "Take your time."
As they waited for Arcturus, the pair gazed around the small shop, their eyes moving over the various wands and antiques that were about. While there weren't as many wands as there were in Ollivander's, there were black wands and white wands, long wands and short wands, wands that had handles and wands that intricately carved line the shelves and in the windowsills.
"That's walnut, 11 and a half inches, springy with a dragon heartstring," Arcturus said to Lucida as she stared at a wand on the wall, finally appearing from the back. He was wearing a brown leather apron that had stains on the front. "Sorry about that, I'm fixing an artifact for a customer, something from the ancient Norse."
"You fix things?" Janus questioned, wondering why the younger wizard didn't deal exclusively with wands and bothered with artifacts.
"It helps me make a living," Arcturus shrugged, not wanting to reveal the entire situation to them. Without the antique business to help support him, he was unable to buy food or other necessities, forcing him to take go outside the box. "So what's up?"
"We came to give you your Christmas present," Janus said, having wanted to give his younger brother his present on Christmas the day before but inwardly knew it was more of a personal gift that should only be shared amongst them. "Do you have some time?"
"I was actually about to just take my lunch, so you have great timing," Arcturus smiled, revealing that it was good timing for them to come. "But you didn't have to get me anything, you two returning is enough for me."
"We think you'll like this," Lucida replied with a smirk, knowing full well that Arcturus would absolutely be thrilled with their present. It had taken them years to collect it, forcing them to dedicate a good percentage of their travels to complete it.
Janus reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny box. He placed it on the floor and with a run of his wand, it enlarged into a normal-sized trunk. Janus took a step back from the trunk, and with a pop, the lock opened, revealing a large compartment. Confusedly, Arcturus took a peek into the trunk and saw the trunk was much larger than it should have been. Arcturus looked back at Janus, who just gestured for him to go down.
Arcturus hopped into the trunk and fell about eight feet, before landing on a stone floor. He looked around and saw that there shelves of items, piles of woods, and jugs of potions. "What the…" Arcturus whispered with wide eyes, running over to the woods on the opposite side of the chamber. There were nearly forty varieties, some cut timber, while others were untreated limbs. Some of the woods he recognized immediately, having used them before, while others were of a variety of tree not However, he could tell with just running a cursory glance over them that they were all wand quality, able to be used in the wands that he crafted.
His eyes moved over to the shelves on the sides of the chamber, which were filled with boxes of well-kept feathers, dragon heartstrings, dragon scales, and various other items that he could use for wandcores.
Arcturus took one more look around the chamber, emotions churning inside of him all the while. "You have no idea what this means to me," Arcturus said, tears accumulating in his eyes. "You have no idea."
"We only took wood from bowtruckle infested trees, don't worry, we asked around, all the wood is usuable and magically kept," Janus said, ignoring Arcturus' words. He was his older brother, after all.
"This will keep me occupied for a long, long time," Arcturus said, turning around and staring at his brother. "Thank you, thank you!"
"Anytime, brother," Janus winked, before walking over to the ladder that appeared on the side, which allowed them to leave the trunk. "Take a look at everything you have, I'm sure you'll find some things that you'll be surprised about."
"Have fun," Lucida said, as she and Janus started their ascent back up to the shop above.
"Wait, I want to show you both around!" Arcturus called out, rushing over to the ladder, the idea of researching all that the pair had given them moving to the back of his mind. "This is the first time you've been here; I have to give you the tour."
The trio walked through the shop. There was a large front desk immediately in front of the door. To its left, there was a staircase that led up to a wooden door, behind which was Arcturus' living quarters. There was a room in the back that had a large work bench and a stool, allowing Arcturus to work on his wands and various trinkets. On the opposite of the room, across from the bench, was a large bookshelf that held numerous works about wands and wandlore.
After seeing the work place and some of the wands that Arcturus had made, they all walked up the stairs in the front of the shop and entered the apartment above. It was a decent sized apartment, with a kitchen, a bathroom, a living room, and one bedroom. While a tad cluttered, what with all the books and furniture around, it served its purpose nicely as Arcturus felt like home within its confines. Overall, as Janus and Lucida walked out a half an hour or so later, they were greatly impressed with what Arcturus had built and would both strive to make him as successful as they could—he deserved it.
"Do you think they suspect anything?" Lucida questioned as they walked up Diagon Allley, heading back to their room in the Leaky Cauldron.
"No," Janus said, shaking his head in the negative, not having sensed anything of the like. "We covered our tracks, even if my father turns into a tiger and tries to sniff around, he won't know."
Later that night, Harry walked into his study, followed by a small group of friends and family, which included Cedric Diggory, the Minister of Magic. They all poured themselves some drinks, and sat around, talking amongst each other. The time passed quickly, before it was nearing ten o'clock and only a few were still left.
"All I know is that we're going to be in for a fight," Cedric sighed, taking the last sip from his drink and rising to his feet. "I just hope we're up for it."
"It can't be any worse than Voldemort," Sirius suggested, knowing that the fight against Voldemort was one of the most brutal in history.
"Maybe, maybe not," Harry shrugged, not really knowing one way or the other. "At least with Voldemort we knew what and who we were up against, which gave us some sliver of a chance. Here, we're as blind as the day is long."
Cedric shook his head as he made his way over to the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. "We won't be blind for long, I'm confident of that," Cedric said, disappearing in a flash of flames. "Happy Christmas, everybody," his voice carried through the room.
"Merry Christmas," Harry whispered back, leaving the room with the rest of them and closing the door behind him. He knew that they all had a lot of work ahead of them, but he wanted to get the very last drop out of the holiday season so with that, he shook his muddled mind and focused solely on enjoying the rest of his night with all of his friends that were still there.
A/N: Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, whatever you may celebrate. And a Happy New Year, too!