“Do we have to?” Harry whined, suppressing a grimace as he pressed his hand against the bloodied wound on his shoulder. He had apparated to the first place Meciel had suggested to him and now he was really regretting it as he ducked behind a gleaming red car, avoiding the light from the streetlamps and the bright, full moon that hung above.

Now that Meciel wasn't focussed on helping Harry escape the battle with Voldemort, she was able to begin the process of healing his body. Within a few moments, Harry could feel the blood slowly halting as Meciel's power washed over his body and began to knit his flesh back together.

'Technically speaking, they are your brethren,' Meciel reminded.

“Our brethren,” Harry said and suppressed a smile as Meciel gave a resounding mental flinch. “Hey, we're in this together. When I'm cursed, you're cursed. When I'm hurt, you're hurt. When I'm getting laid, you're getting laid.

'So that's why I'm still a virgin' Meciel retorted amusedly and Harry slapped a hand to his chest in a mocking gesture of hurt.

“I distinctly remember a rather wonderful, sweaty night with none other than Maeve,” Harry said and grinned mischievously. “I don't like to mention it at all because you always get so…touchy…about it.”

'Technically, beloved, that was bestiality,' Meciel said smugly.

“If you're that concerned over your virginity then maybe I could…you know…do you,” Harry said and raised his eyebrows cheekily, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “That's not bestiality, is it?”

'Technically, beloved, that would make you delusional,' Meciel said after a moment's pause and Harry felt her mischievousness flare up in his mind. 'Firstly, because I am nothing but an illusion to your mind and secondly, because it won't happen anytime soon…unless, of course, you beg me..'

“Freud would have had a ball if he had ever got his hands on me,” Harry muttered, mostly to himself. “Oedipus Complex, eat your heart out.”

'Believe me, you are inflicted with worse psychological problems than your perverse sexual desires,' Meciel responded wryly. 'But I think that we've gotten off topic a little here.'

“Low blow, Meciel,” Harry muttered, but he wore an amused smile. His eyes absently flickered over the brightly lit suburban street that he was standing, drawn to one particular house with a white picket fence. “In fact, I guess you could say that it was…below…the belt, if you get what I'm saying.”

'Perhaps we should focus on more relevant matters now,' Meciel said firmly. 'I thought you would be a little more concerned about the Dark Lord who almost killed you a few minutes ago.'

“Hey, we're still alive,” Harry protested loudly, and winced when a dog started barking loudly. He pressed himself against the car and waited until the dog fell silent, scowling in irritation. “Fucking mutt.”

'We are alive, beloved, because we ran,' Meciel said crisply.

“What, you want to go back?” Harry asked in disbelief. He started to rise up from the ground, his wand gripped in his left hand and the sheathed sword clasped in his right. “You were the one who told me to run, but hey, if you want me to go back and kick his arse…”

'You would lose,' Meciel said bluntly and Harry paused. 'Not only does he know spells that I, frankly, have never heard of, but he has powers that rival your own and a flair for duelling that surpass any of our foes.'

“So?” Harry snorted. He raised his cane, knowing that the water-patterned blade was flaring with silver light within the wooden sheath. “I'll jab him with this. He doesn't seem to like it when I do that.”

'Luck will only go so far, no matter who is giving it to you,' Meciel said darkly and Harry blinked at the truth in her words. He heaved a sigh and sat back down again.

“I really wasn't expecting him to pop up,” He said and grimaced as he recalled his apartment going up in flames. “That's going to be expensive to replace as well.”

'I do not think that it was no coincidence that Voldemort attacked us mere hours after we encountered Vesper,' Meciel said grimly. 'It seems that they have a close alliance. We could be in some trouble here, beloved.'

“Ah, I don't know,” Harry grunted as he stood up. A wave of weariness struck him but Meciel automatically pushed it away as Harry started striding towards the house with the white-picket fence. “People like Voldemort and Vesper generally don't like others having as much power as they do. They'll be throwing hissy fits at each other in no time.”

'You could be right,' Meciel mused as Harry opened the gate with a creak. 'Vesper has always desired to be the most powerful of us all and from what I have observed of Voldemort, he is not much better. Still, we will need refuge for the time being.'

Harry walked forward and shivered as he crossed some kind of invisible boundary. It felt more spiritual than magical and for a second Harry heard blaring trumpets in his ears. His skin was tingling and his hair stood up on its end as Meciel recoiled from the wards, her darkness sizzling in pain. A moment later, the wards fell silent and apparently allowed Harry and Meciel to move forward.

“I know we need refuge,” Harry muttered as he walked up the path towards the brightly lit porch and stomped loudly up the steps. He reached the door and raised his hand to rap his knuckles against the wood when he paused. “We're not going to be here for long, are we?”

'Until we can find better accommodation,' Meciel said. 'Believe me, beloved, I do not wish to be here anymore than you do, but I do not believe that Vesper and Voldemort will try to attack two Knight's of the Cross in a warded house.'

The door opened before Harry could knock and Michael Carpenter appeared. He blinked at Harry's slightly bloodied and singed clothes and waited for Harry to speak with an expression of eternal patience on his face.

“Can I crash here for a while?” Harry asked carefully, keeping his face blank and his voice neutral. Insults could come when he had secured himself the couch.

“Come in,” Michael offered after a moment's pause and opened the door. Harry took a deep breath and, for the second time in his life- the first time he did so voluntarily- he stepped into the brightly lit Carpenter house

Harry walked into the Carpenter living room and took in the large TV, the comfortable leather couches and the dozens of photographs of smiling blonde, children on the mantelpiece. A grimace crossed his face as he remembered the last time he had been here. His mind raced with images of the fight with the Knights, the flash of silver light and the incredible deep-rooted pain that had spread through his body as the holy light had driven him to a level of pain he could only compare to the Cruciatus Curse.

“I still don't know why you saved my life all those years ago,” Harry said bluntly, taking in the soft glow of the house. The love that the family held for each other seemed to have leaked into the walls, creating an atmosphere of kindness and gentleness. “I wouldn't have done the same.”

“That's why we're two very different people,” Michael said calmly. Harry noted that his hair held a few more streaks of grey now than it had a few months ago and suppressed a smile. “What's the trouble, Harry? I didn't think I'd see you come here again, not after last time.”

“Don't tell me Charity is still pissed off that I stole her car,” Harry said and folded his arms. “She deserved it anyway, the stupid devil-woman.”

“I think she was more upset by the fact that you held a knife to Amanda's throat,” Michael said, the barest hint of steel lacing his voice. “I wasn't too happy to hear it myself.”

“Yet at Hogwarts Amanda was always the first to start bugging me about something or other,” Harry said, rolling his eyes in irritation. “You have no idea how close I came to turning her into a goat or something.”

“You can turn people into goats?” Michael asked in surprise.

“Well, no,” Harry admitted and paused. “That's probably why I didn't, now that I think about it.”

“What happened, Harry?” Michael asked, drawing the attention back onto the matter at hand. His eyes assessed Harry with growing concern as he took in the full state of the boy. “You look like you've been in a fight.”

“No, no, no,” Harry said, shaking his head quickly. “A fight is when I stand at one end and the other person stands at the other and we start trying to kill each other. When I'm sitting down and trying to have some dinner and a bunch of vampires try to tear down my wards and a Dark Lord starts throwing magic at me- that, Michael, is called an ambush.”

“Dark Lord?” Michael asked quickly, leaning forward and staring at Harry intently.

“Voldemort,” Harry said and flashed a sarcastic grin. “Apparently he's working with Vesper now. Isn't the world fun?”

“Vesper and Voldemort,” Michael said and took a deep breath. “That's a disturbing match.”

“I'm a little more worried about Voldemort,” Harry said grimly. He held up the wooden cane for Michael to see and continued. “This little thing was a help, but not enough. He's good, Knight, far better than you and a little better than me.”

“He's still powerful,” Michael mused carefully. “I assumed that the wound you gave him at the graveyard would kill him, or at least keep him down for a while.”

“Maybe not as powerful as he was during the whole stint we did in the graveyard,” Harry said slowly, absently running a finger over the disfiguring scar slashed across his face. “But still powerful enough to destroy my home, my belongings, everything I own- you know, small, unimportant stuff like that.”

“I'm glad that you see the truth worth of material objects,” Michael said and Harry snorted.

“Yeah, says the guy with the fifty-inch TV,” He muttered under his breath.

“I assume that you're seeking refuge by coming here?” Michael said. Harry opened his mouth to answer when a loud boisterous laughter burst out from the closed door on the other side of the living room, accompanied by high-pitched giggling.

“Um…bad time?” Harry asked slowly. “Because that giggling sounded like something I heard on the street corner the other night. I'm not judging you or anything, but I thought you were Christian and full of virtues and all that crap.”

“That giggling was probably from my eleven year old daughter,” Michael said sternly. He paused and cocked his head as he thought something through. “You must be tired and hungry. Would you like something to eat?”

“Now that you mention it, I never did get to finish my dinner,” Harry mused, absently rubbing his stomach. “You know, rampaging Dark Lord's blowing up my apartment and all.”

“There's enough for one more,” Michael offered and Harry paused.

“Eh, what the hell?” He said and followed Michael into the kitchen.

Sitting at the long table in the middle of the room was an assortment of blonde's and brunette's, who all turned to the door and were eying him with various reactions. There was a girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen with long, braided dark hair and a serious demeanour, and a boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen with dark hair and blue eyes, who stared at him with puzzled politeness. The youngest boy, ten or so, was staring at him with narrowed eyes, as if he could recall Harry's face from somewhere. However, an eleven year old girl with short blonde hair and a tall, lanky man with broad shoulders and grey eyes stared at him with dawning comprehension and shock as they instantly recognised his face.

“You again!” The young man snarled, jumping up from the table. His chair fell over with a loud bang, eliciting a small cry of surprise from the youngest girl but he ignored it as he gripped a gleaming steak knife in his hand, as if it would protect him from Harry. “What are you doing here?”

'Can I curse him?' Harry mentally asked with a hopeful tone in his voice.

'No,' Meciel responded severely.

'Damn.'

“Daniel,” Michael interjected sternly and Daniel quailed under his father's stern glare. “Put the knife down.”

“But Dad…” Daniel protested loudly but Michael didn't budge and the young man sighed as he lowered the knife.

“What's going on?” The eldest girl asked, her voice jumping with strain and her blue eyes piercing Harry with confused eyes. “Daniel, what are you doing?”

“Remember that kid I told you about, Alicia?” Daniel said, breathing quickly as he glared at Harry, and he jerked his thumb towards the subject in question. “That's him. That's 'Harry'.”

Alicia gasped, placing a hand over her mouth and swivelling her head to stare at Harry in surprise. The Denarian could see a mixture of curiosity and wariness on her face.

“I'm Harry,” The ten year old boy protested, staring at Daniel with baleful blue eyes. Suddenly his eyes widened with recognition and he whirled his head to regard Harry with a shocked look. “Wait, I remember you! You saved our lives! You…killed those evil people!”

“That was you?” the seventeen year old boy burst out in astonishment and frowned as he studied Harry, absently brushing his dark hair out of his crystal-clear blue eyes. “Yeah, I remember you now. You came here and warned us…”

“I suppose I did,” Harry said and crossed his arms across his chest, his piercing gaze meeting Daniel's. The young man faltered and slowly sat down. Harry lip's twitched with a sardonic smile. “So, does saving all of your lives earn me a plate of food, hmm?”

“Who wants seconds?” A loud, cheerful voice called from the other side of the kitchen. Charity Carpenter came into view, her long blonde hair emphasizing her beautiful figure. She was holding a small steaming saucepan and wearing both an apron and a wide smile.

“Charity,” Harry greeted coolly but suppressed a wince as Meciel gave him a warning prod within his mind. He stood there, his arms folded and his eyebrows raised as Charity's smile faded and she stared at Harry with a neutral expression on her face. “Still torturing children with Iodine and recitations of the bible?”

'Torture?' interjected Meciel, a faint hint of surprise in her voice. 'Did I miss something when we were separated all those years ago?'

'You live in my mind,' Harry said with a snort. 'Have a look for yourself. I swear to you though, this woman is more evil than you are.'

'Doubtful.'

“I would hardly call it torture,” Charity said evenly and placed the saucepan in the middle of the table. Her eyes flickered from Harry to Michael and then back again.

“Iodine stings,” Harry said in clipped tones. “And the bible- well, that was just cruel. You didn't even read the best parts. There's this little section early off in the bible that tells you all the gross and cool sexual things you shouldn't do. I know this only because I'm using that as a checklist- I'm down to bestiality.”

“I see,” Charity said icily.

“Meciel thinks I should cross that one off because I did Maeve, and technically she's not human,” Harry continued, enjoying Charity's growing disgust. “But personally, it's not bestiality unless it's with a goat. Say,” he said slowly, a wicked idea coming to mind, and he turned back to Michael. “About that, where's Amanda? I only ask because I want to practise my transfiguration on her…”

“There are children here,” Charity snapped coldly and Harry raised an eyebrow, looking decidedly unimpressed as he gazed at the gawking faces around the table.

“Yes,” he drawled slowly. “Children who are alive because of me, so can I have something to eat now?”

“Michael…” Charity started but Michael turned to stare at his wife and her face softened, reluctant acceptance replacing indignant anger. She sighed and motioned for Harry to take the empty seat next to Alicia and Hope.

“Thank you,” Harry said insincerely and sat down with a loud sigh, absently brushing his shoulders. He inspected his healing wound as Charity filled a bowl with some kind of stir fry and placed it in front of him.

“Are you hurt?” Came a small voice from beside him and Harry blinked, shifting his gaze to the little blonde-haired Hope sitting next to him. She was staring at him with nothing short of fascination and a distinct lack of fear and Harry groaned, shaking his head.

'Fires of Hell,' Meciel swore softly. 'There are two of them. What is it with the blonde children of this family?'

“Oh, no, no, no,” Harry said quickly. “One little blonde-haired brat bugging me is enough.”

“What?” The girl uttered softly, looking hurt at Harry's tone. “I just wanted to know if you were alright.”

“I'm fine,” Harry said curtly, rolling his eyes in irritation and turning back to his dinner. He took a cautious sniff at it, glancing at Charity shrewdly, but decided to throw caution to the wind and took a bite. After all, it wasn't like she would poison her own children.

“Is it nice?” Hope asked again and Harry sighed, lowering his fork and turning his head to stare at the annoying brat.

“It's absolutely horrible,” he said blandly. “It's so horrible that I, being selfless and kind and all that crap, will take your food to spare you the suffering of tasting something this foul.”

And with that Harry reached over and took Hope's dinner, dumping it into his own and returning the greasy, stained bowl back to her. The little girl accepted the bowl with a blank look and watched as Harry tore into both her dinner and his own.

“Um…thanks?” She offered hesitantly.

“What the hell was that?” Daniel snarled from across the table. Harry looked up with an annoyed frown on his face as the lanky young man glared at him in anger, yet Harry could detect the underlying fear that spurred Daniel's anger on.

“That was me stealing your sister's dinner under laughably false pretences,” Harry said and flashed an arrogant smirk. “Problem?”

'They are doing you a favour,' Meciel said, a tad reluctantly. 'Perhaps you should be a little nicer.'

'Do I have to?' Harry protested.

'At the very least, try not to kill any of them,' Meciel sighed.

“Daniel,” Michael interjected sternly. “You know how I feel about that kind of language.”

Daniel shifted in his seat but remained defiant as Harry lowered his gaze and dug into his dinner. He found that he was surprisingly hungry after his duel with Voldemort, having tapped deep into his power and working up quite the appetite.

Meanwhile, Michael had taken Charity by the arm and was slowly conversing with her in soft tones. Charity's face was growing darker and darker by the second as Michael continued patiently, and Harry could make out words like 'attack' and 'refuge' and 'help'.

“Why are you here?” asked the teen girl with the dark, braided hair- Alicia, if he recalled. Harry glanced up and saw that she looked genuinely curious.

“My place got blown up,” Harry said carelessly around a mouthful of food. He swallowed and took a sip from one of the glasses on the table, ignoring the disapproval of the youngest boy, who stared at him unblinkingly.

“Really? Somebody blew your place up?” questioned the seventeen year old boy excitedly, leaning forward. “What happened?”

“I blew my place up,” Harry corrected and let a lazy smile cross his face as the boy's eyes went wide with surprise.

“Why?” Alicia asked slowly, looking puzzled. “Why would you do that?”

“So the vampires and the Dark Lord didn't get their hands on my stuff,” Harry answered testily and frowned. “If I can't have it, no-one can.”

“What do you…?” Alicia started, but was interrupted.

“Dark Lord?” The younger boy asked over his sister. Alicia showed the first emotion Harry had seen other than a desire for knowledge and scowled at her brother.

“Don't interrupt me Matthew,” she said crossly.

“Hey, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Matthew said carelessly, throwing his arms up. “No need to get all high-and-mighty on me.”

“You do it all the time and it's common courtesy, not 'high-and-mighty',” Alicia responded through gritted teeth and Harry suddenly had the feeling that this was an old argument between the two of them.

“Alicia, Matthew,” Daniel snapped, his glare not softening as he directed it at his siblings. “Don't do this here, not now, not in front of…him.”

“Hey, don't mind me,” Harry broke in, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I'm just sitting here, doing my thing. Please, have your bitch-fest. I don't mind.”

Alicia and Matthew scowled at him in unison but Harry shrugged them off and turned back to his dinner. A few moments later, a small voice drifted from the other end of a table.

“What's a Dark Lord?” The youngest dark-haired boy asked innocently. “Is he like a Dork Lord?”

“Dork Lord,” Hope muttered from next to him and sighed. “Harry, you are such a dweeb.”

“Hey, don't call me dweeb, princess,” the young boy, Harry, retorted fiercely and Hope flushed, red straining her pale cheeks.

“Brats!” Harry said sharply and both Harry and Hope turned to look at him, their scowls fading away into nervousness as he directed a very pointed look. “One bitch-fest a night, okay?”

Harry and Hope nodded in unison.

“Anyway, a Dark Lord is about that high,” Harry continued brightly, pointing to a spot above his head. “He has red eyes, snake-like nose, pale skin, a flair for dark magic and a curious sexual fetish for snakes.”

“Sexual fetish?” Little Harry asked curiously, his eyes wide with innocent. “What's that?”

Harry grinned and ignored the choking noises that Daniel, Alicia and Matthew were making as he leaned forward.

“You see, Harry,” the Denarian started with gleaming eyes. “There are some people out there who get aroused…”

“Hey!” Hope exclaimed quickly and nudged, nudged, Harry in the ribs. She shook her head frantically, her little pigtails whipping about as she stared at him with serious blue eyes. “He's too little to know what that means yet.”

“And you're not?” Harry asked and snorted. “Then you know what a pee-pee does, right? Well, think of that with a snake.”

Hope blushed furiously and scrunched up her nose in disgust. Harry grinned and turned back to his dinner, ignoring Daniel's complaints as Meciel spoke to him within his mind.

'Your corrupting influence knows no bounds,' she murmured in amusement. 'Although I am curious- Where did the sexual fetish for snakes come from? I can't remember hearing that about Lord Voldemort.'

'I'm going to be honest with you,' Harry said. 'I took a stab in the dark. He looks like it though, doesn't he?'

'Indeed,' Meciel murmured.

'Ugly is stating it nicely,' Harry snorted. 'I have to admit, despite his looks, he really knows his magic. That trick with the hands on the wall- that was cool. So was that walking over air thing. Can you teach me that?'

'We will work on it,' Meciel answered evasively.

“Is there any more food?” Hope asked hopefully, craning her neck to peer into the now-empty saucepan. Harry took a bite of his food and suppressed a childish smile when Daniel shook his head.

Hope looked crestfallen and rubbed her stomach, staring at Harry's bowl. She looked as if she wanted to ask him something but her nerves failed her and she sighed and glanced away. Daniel frowned and glared at Harry, who ignored the older boy and dug into his food.

'Perhaps you should give her something to eat, seeing as you stole her dinner,' Meciel suggested sardonically. 'Look at that face. You must be positively flooded with guilt.'

“Want a cat?” Harry asked gruffly and Hope glanced back at him, looking puzzled.

“A cat?” She asked slowly.

“You know, four legs, fur, tail, whiskers, cat,” Harry said and placed his fork down. “You said you were hungry, so I could magic you up a cat and we could all dig in.”

“I'm not going to eat a cat!” Hope exclaimed loudly. Her brother, Harry, sniggered.

“Why not?” Harry asked in apparent surprise. “It's good for you.”

“No it's not!” Hope argued, folding her arms and giving Harry what she thought was a stern glare.

“The Chinese do it and look how many of them there are,” Harry said airily.

“We're not eating a cat,” Hope said with a tone of finality in her voice.

“Fine,” Harry said easily, taking the last bite of his dinner and setting his fork to the side. “But don't say that I never try to be nice to people.”

“So, what happened tonight?” Matthew asked after a moment's pause. He ignored the dirty look his older brother sent him and watched Harry intently.

“I told you…” Harry started exasperatedly, rolling his eyes in irritation, but he was cut off.

“Did you fight him?” Alicia asked curiously.

“No,” Harry drawled sarcastically. “We played backgammon, sipped tea and nibbled on buttered crumpets because we're English and all- of course we had a fight.”

Alicia flushed and ducked her head at Harry's derisive response.

“You lost?” Matthew questioned in surprise. He looked Harry up and down, seemingly scanning the younger Denarian for any major injuries.

“I didn't lose,” Harry snapped quickly and Matthew flinched as, for an instant, Harry's eyes glinted with fiery power.

“Touchy, are we?” Daniel asked snidely.

“I didn't lose. I just decided that it might be prudent to leave Voldemort to his devices for a while,” Harry said carefully and leaned forward conspiratorially, as if imparting a great secret. “He missed his afternoon nap and was all cranky.”

“Voldemort?” echoed Alicia, her face scrunched up in thought. Harry could tell that she was a great lover of knowledge- probably a bookworm or something.

“Isn't he the evil wizard that came back a few months ago?” Matthew murmured hesitantly. “I could have sworn that was the name?”

“Yeah, Amanda was telling us all about him,” Alicia answered. She focussed her gaze back on Harry. “They call him You-Know-Who, because he used to kill anybody who said his name.”

“That's the one,” Harry supplied.

“Didn't he…um…murder your…your parents?” Matthew asked, looking a touch uncomfortable.

“From what I've heard,” Harry said with a shrug. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering over Michael and Charity, who were still arguing in soft tones from across the room.

“You don't sound too upset,” Alicia observed shrewdly.

“That's the thing about losing parents at a young age,” Harry answered with a slight smile. “You never really get to know them well enough to care about them.”

“Is he powerful then?” Matthew asked.

“Ah, he's got a little power behind him,” Harry admitted with a frown on his face. He was feeling quite sleepy at the moment, with a good dinner after a good fight.

“Why didn't you beat him?” Hope asked curiously and stared at Harry with wide blue eyes. “Don't you have a…you know, a thing…in your head?”

“Thing?” Little Harry asked from across the table, looking perplexed.

“A bad angel,” Hope answered her brother, rolling her eyes.

“Oh,” Harry said with dawning comprehension. “Like the bad people that Dad fights. You're one of them?”

The older Harry gave the small child a withering glare and watched with amusement as the younger Harry flushed and ducked his gaze.

“Is he stronger than you?” Matthew asked curiously.

“I thought you were a knight,” Alicia said at the same time, staring at Harry with confusion.

“Whoa,” Harry whistled slowly, staring the Carpenter children with mild annoyance. “This isn't Oprah. I don't have to tell you my life story and if you told me you had cancer- well, I'd laugh. But for the record, Voldemort isn't more powerful than me.”

'Keep telling yourself that,' Meciel sniffed.

'Not helpful, Meciel.'

“Then why did you lose?” Daniel asked, looking quite smug. Harry's dislike for the boy surged and he restrained his anger as he turned his head towards the young man.

“Okay,” Harry said firmly and slapped his hand down on the table. The younger Harry flinched at the noise and the table fell silent. Harry saw Michael and Charity briefly look up, before Michael led his wife into the room next door.

“We are going to stop talking about me right now.”” Harry continued slowly.

“But…” Matthew protested loudly.

“Don't want to hear it,” Harry interrupted, raising a hand and effectively silencing the boy.

“Hey, you can't…” Alicia began

“But I can,” Harry interjected and gestured at himself with an arrogant smile. “In fact, watch me.”

“You're a real git,” Matthew muttered sullenly under his breath

“That's slander, I'll sue,” Harry said briskly and Mathew fell silent, his mouth opening in surprise at the sheer absurdity of the statement.

“Sue?” Alicia said with a snort, as if she found the idea to be ludicrous.

“Don't call me Sue, Jerry,” Harry retorted childishly and felt a pang of amusement when Alicia frowned, looking lost and confused.

'It is permissible for you to act your age, beloved,' Meciel offered wryly.

'Where's the fun in that?' Harry asked in amusement.

“Will you stop acting like a…?” Daniel began, anger blossoming on his cheeks as he watched his younger brothers' and sisters' harassment.

“Shut up,” Harry cut in sharply.

“Don't tell me…” Daniel started in righteous indignation.

“Shut up,” Harry repeated coolly and Daniel bristled.

“What's it like?” suddenly Hope asked, a curious tone in her voice as she stared up at Harry, diffusing the tense situation between her older brother and the Denarian Knight.

“What's what like, Hope?” Daniel asked snappishly.

“It,” Hope said helpfully.

“It?” Alicia asked in amusement.

Hope sighed and tapped the side of her head, giving Harry a meaningful glance. Alicia's mouth opened with a small 'oh' of understanding and Daniel frowned, giving her a severe look.

“You shouldn't ask about such things,” He said crossly.

Harry rolled his eyes, both at Daniel's tone and at the questions, but decided to speak up.

“Actually, Hope,” he said charmingly, shooting Daniel a cocky smile. “It's like having a family all in your head, and definitely one of the best things that ever happened to me in my life.”

“Ah,” Hope said in dawning comprehension while both Matthew and Alicia frowned.

“How can you say that?” Daniel asked Harry coldly, anger brewing in his eyes.

“Because it's true,” Harry replied, just as coldly, and a thin smile curved his face. He straightened in his seat as he continued. “Meciel gives me power, more power than you could even dream of. She grants me immunity against old age and her vast knowledge of the world. Hell, she has memories of a world so far back that your ancestors were still monkeys throwing pieces of shit at each other. I have a constant companion, family more than anything else, and I will never be alone as long as I live. What else do I need?”

“What about decency? Mercy? Patience? Kindness? Love?”

“Hey, I love Meciel,” Harry said defensively. In his mind, he felt Meciel shudder and suddenly her affection seeped through him, warming his tired body. He let out a mental chuckle.

'Don't feel too special,' he thought dryly and felt her pang of amusement.

“How can you love it?” Daniel asked, his face scrunching up in disgust. Harry twitched, his easily riled temper flaring in face of the boy's apparent disgust.

There were only a few ways somebody could ever drive Harry into losing his temper, barring physical injury and the heat of the battle. Insulting Meciel was one of them. Images of Harry launching himself across the table and slugging the boy in the face filled his mind, but Meciel clamped down on them firmly and he sighed.

“Quite easily,” He said instead and allowed a sly smile to cross his face. He turned his head and gazed down at Hope, who was staring at him with her big, wide eyes. “You see Hope, when a boy and a girl love each other, they do things. But when the girl lives in the boys head, then the boy has to be a little more creative…”

“Alright, that's enough!” Daniel said abruptly. He glowered at Harry and motioned at Hope. “Hope, get over here.”

The small girl ignored her brother and stared at Harry with nothing more than honest curiosity on her face.

“Is she nice?” She asked.

“To me, sure,” Harry answered with a shrug. A smile crossed his face. “She likes me.”

'Don't feel too special' Meciel murmured, throwing his own words back at him, and Harry snorted in amusement.

“She's going to devour your soul and take over your body,” Daniel said slowly, shaking his head in a mixture of frustration and sympathy. “It's inevitable. They all do it. She will too.”

“Maybe,” Harry responded thoughtfully and scratched his chin. A startling image of him looking like Vesper's mentally-crushed host sprang to his mind, but this time both he and Meciel clamped down on it firmly. “I doubt it though.”

“You doubt it?” Matthew asked, staring at Harry with narrowed eyes. “Why wouldn't she do it to you if she's done it to others?”

“She only does it with those she doesn't like,” Harry said and gave him a smug smile. “She likes me.”

“How can you be a Knight and a Denarian at the same time?” Alicia suddenly asked and Harry blinked. “Isn't a Denarian the antithesis of a Knight?”

“Anti-what?” Harry muttered but threw up a hand and shook his head when Alicia opened her mouth. “Never mind, I'll look it up. From what I know, I'm a Knight because God is evil.”

“He is not,” Hope burst out crossly and she levelled Harry with a furious, and very much ineffective, glare.

“Okay, maybe He's not evil,” Harry relented and paused. “But He is a sadistic son of a bitch who likes playing really mean jokes. Although some of the stuff he lets you do when you're holding a sword is pretty cool.”

“Like what?” Hope asked curiously, her anger fading as fast as it had appeared. Harry blinked at the small blonde's apparent mood swings but sighed.

“You know, you're just as chatty as Amanda,” he said in irritation. It had the opposite affect and Hope beamed. “You're almost as annoying as well. Why can't you be like your brother- stupid, stubborn and resentful?”

“Do you like Amanda?” Alicia asked carefully and Harry turned to the other seat next to him, where the dark-haired girl was eying Harry with wicked amusement in her eyes. “And when I say like, I mean…like.”

'When the time comes, I will let you curse her,' Meciel said abruptly and Harry felt her grumbling anger. 'What absurdity is that?'

“Hell no,” Harry snorted, refocussing his attention on the real world. “I'd rather go out with a kangaroo. Actually, that would be fun…they're very good at bouncing, aren't they- if you catch my drift.”

“Right…” Alicia said slowly, still smiling strangely.

“Not that I'm complaining, because believe me, I don't want to see her,” Harry said with a frown, his gaze flickering down the table. “But where is the little brat anyway?”

“Magic school,” Harry said delightedly and looked wistful. “I wanna be a wizard when I grow up, just like her.”

“She's a witch, stupid,” Hope snorted. “You can't be a witch because you're a boy.”

“I want to do magic!” Harry said, looking hurt at his sister's words.

“Fat chance there,” Harry snorted and the younger Harry looked crestfallen. “Unless, of course…”

“What?” Little Harry said quickly. “There's a way I can do magic?”

“Well, you could pick up a coin,” the Denarian Harry murmured, a sly smile crossing his face as he gazed up at the roof, ignoring the chocked replies of many of the children. “They can make you magical.”

“A coin?” Harry asked curiously, his brown eyes staring at Harry with the trust that only a young child could produce. “Where can I get one?”

“That's enough!” Daniel roared and jumped up from his seat, his eyes alight with fury. His face contorted with anger as he loomed over Harry, who looked decidedly unimpressed. “I won't have you corrupting my brother as well as my sister!”

“It was only a kitten,” Harry said mildly. “It's not like Hope is about to summon a demon with the blood of a virgin, which, by the way, is not actually a good idea. It tends to make them randy and if they break lose, well; somebody's going to get raped.”

“Amanda told me all about you,” Daniel snapped, breathing harshly. Matthew grimaced and tried to tug on his brother's sleave, but Daniel waved it off. “How you were her friend, her teacher. How you were teaching her spells, spells that hurt people. She's seen more of your wickedness than any of us and she fucking idolises you!”

“The loyalty of good people is pathetic, really,” Harry said with a grin. Meciel whispered warnings in her ear but he shrugged them off. “You save a person's life and suddenly they think the world of you. It's a wonder why we evil guys haven't won already.”

“Oh, shut up,” Daniel snarled, slamming his hands down on the table. “Just shut up, you idiot! You think you're so smug, but who's here now, huh? Who had to run away from his home? Who was too weak…”

The second way to make Harry lose his temper was insinuating that he was weak. Perhaps it was because of the six years he spent in a downtrodden household, or perhaps it was because of his own natural arrogance. Regardless, Harry's temper flared up with rage.

“I am not weak!” Growled Harry, his pleasant face disappearing as the insult struck home. He jumped to his feet, glaring at Daniel with glinting eyes.

“Oh, is that a weak spot?” Daniel mocked. “You lost the fight, didn't you?”

“That doesn't mean I'm weak,” Harry snarled, tightening his grip on the wand in his pocket. “I went up against a man who has surpassed death, who has made an entire society fear the sound of his name! A pathetic magic-less weakling like you couldn't even comprehend the powers that we both wielded against each other!”

Alicia and Matthew shivered at the ominous tone in Harry's voice and shuffled in their seats, while Hope and Harry shifted away from the older Denarian. Daniel, however, was too strung up in his rage to care.

“Wow,” Daniel said sarcastically. “Aren't you cool?”

“Don't push your luck, boy,” Harry threatened coldly.

'Calm down, beloved…' Meciel started patiently and Harry felt her attempts to soothe his growing rage. Her attempts were unsuccessful.

“Why don't you take that stupid slut of a demon and get the hell out of our…” Daniel continued, his voice dripping with malice. He never got the chance to finish as Harry registered the insult to Meciel and snapped.

His wand was in his hand before he knew what he was doing, hellish light spilling from the notched runes. Tinkling bells were ringing in his head- or perhaps not, the children had their hands clasped over their ears- and an enormous pressure was pressing down on his mind. Dark magic flickered at the tip of his wand before a loud, blaring horn blasted into his ears with such force that Harry staggered back. There was a flash of silver light and suddenly Michael was in the room, his face grim.

“Stop this, Harry,” he commanded, his voice cracking at Harry like a whip. “Lower the wand!”

'What have you done?' Meciel snarled, anger reverberating in her voice. 'I told you to behave!'

Harry's heart was racing and his breathing was ragged but he lowered his wand, reluctantly releasing his grasp on Hellfire and taking a deep breath. His rage was disappearing and it was replaced with something that he absolutely despised- uncertainty.

“Dad…” Daniel started softly.

“No, Daniel,” Michael said, his voice hard, and Daniel flinched. “You have already done enough tonight.”

“Do you see?” demanded Charity, her beautiful face completely cold as she moved forward. She put her arms around Harry and motioned to Hope and Alicia as the two of them abandoned Harry to his side of the table. “I won't have him in my house, Michael. I won't have him around my children!”

“Charity…” Michael started softly, lowering the sword and letting the silver light die.

“No!” Charity cried and Michael appeared taken aback by the passion in her voice. “I don't care if he's a knight or not! He could lead the enemy right to our home. Our home, Michael! Our children!”

”He was trying to seduce Harry and Hope into taking a coin,” Daniel told her, despite his father's warning look, and Charity's face went white.

“Hey, I was only kidding…” Harry protested feebly. Events were spiralling out of control around him and suddenly he had no idea what was about to happen.

“Don't start with me!” Charity snapped and she rounded on him. “I don't care what you have to say! I don't care that you're homeless! I don't care that somebody is trying to kill you! My husband is the saint, not me! I only care about my children! You have to leave.”

“Charity…” Michael tried again, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. Charity acted as if she couldn't feel it and wordlessly gestured at the door behind Harry, her face set. She had made her decision.

“Fine then,” Harry snarled, and suddenly his fury was coming back to him as he angrily pushed the chair away. Hellfire roared in his mind, accompanied by the warning tinkling bells, but he ignored them.

'Beloved…' Meciel started.

“No, Meciel,” Harry snapped loudly. Some dim part of his mind enjoyed Charity's blanching face as she heard Harry talking to the Fallen. “It's clear we're not wanted here, despite the fact that we risked our necks to save her precious fucking children! Amanda would be dead without me, so would you and all of your little brats.”

“And you would be dead without the help of my husband,” Charity replied coolly. “I think we're even. Get out.”

Harry glared at her, hatred welling in his eyes as he stared at the ungrateful bitch. He was barely aware of the smoke curdling from suddenly glowing red runes on his wand, the strong scent of sulphur wafting into everybody's noses. Little Harry was whimpering on his mother's shoulder while Alicia and Matthew had backed away and were watching the scene nervously. Hope was staring between her mother and Harry with a confused, pleading expression.

“Don't fight, Mum,” she begged timidly, her eyes welling with tears.

“Here's a lesson for you, kid,” Harry snarled angrily as he pocketed his wand. “Don't help anybody, ever, because you get nothing out of it.”

“Get out,” Charity intoned coldly. “I never want to see you again.”

“Finally, we have something in common.”

“Harry…” Michael started desperately. 

Harry wasn't having any of it and, after picking up the cane resting by the table, he whirled around and left the kitchen. With long, angry strides, he opened the front door and slammed it behind him as hard as he could. He could hear blood throbbing behind his ears as his fury surged through his veins, powered by unholy Hellfire. The angelic wards on the house were constricting around him but they let him past as he strode onto the street and took a left.

'That was well played,' Meciel said evenly but Harry could sense her anger, and worse, her disappointment. His own anger grew and he let out a wordlessly snarl, lashing out with his foot at a letter box and breaking it in two.

'Oh shut up,' he snapped and paused. 'Besides, they were insulting you more than me.'

'It may come to a surprise to you, but I can put away my personal feelings to attain a goal,' Meciel responded coolly as Harry turned a corner, winding up in front of some kind of suburban park. 'In this case, it was a place to sleep for the night.'

'You know what, Meciel, you can just…' Harry started but suddenly he paused. Despite his raging anger, he could sense that something was wrong. A flickering tingle played at his mind, like a TV with a bad reception and comprehension dawned in his mind just as it happened.

From out of nowhere, a slender needle of flame lanced at him, so bright that it lit up the entire park. Harry instinctively ducked and winced as heat seared at the base of his neck as the needle flew past him and tore into the pavement, slicing through it with the ease of an arc welder.

'They are cloaked!' Meciel hissed and paused. 'Behind you, next to the tree, I can hear their heartbeat!'

'Effodio!' Harry barked out. A silver flash of light, tinged with fiery Hellfire, blasted out and suddenly an agonising scream burst out into the night. The tree was torn to splinters and, with a loud creak, toppled to the ground, right onto the newel revealed figure. Harry took a deep breath, fighting off the weariness in his body. The duel with Voldemort had taxed him.

'Behind you!' Meciel warned. 'We are at a disadvantage! Retreat!'

Harry whirled around, his wand flying up and a glimmering sphere of defensive magic's whirling around him as he prepared to apparate. In the split second that it would take him to flee, one of the attackers was suddenly there. Harry caught a glimpse of a grey cloak that covered the man's body before a silver blade nicked lightly across his shield.

The shield, which would have protected him from a runaway bus, collapsed with a loud screeching noise, akin to tearing metal. For a split second, Hellfire raged uncontrollably as it flared up into a brilliant, yellow light, raw power with no construct, before it detonated in a loud boom.

Harry was thrown off his feet by the backlash of the spell. Heat scorched his body and face and he landed on the ground with a dazed thump, pain flittering around his back. Dimly, he could hear the pained groans of the other man and smell the distinctive odour of sizzling flesh. Before he could stand, a man loomed above him, his face grim with determination and anger. Harry caught a proper glimpse of his cloak and recognition flooded his features before a flash of bright light filled his vision before his world went dark.

In a matter of seconds, Harry Potter, the wizard who had stood up against Voldemort in a face-to-face duel, had been taken down by surprise and captured by the Wardens of the White Council.