Chapter 6 - Riddles In the Dark

Honey, guess what I did at work today?

I wore a bomb.

A nuclear bomb in a field of flowers...

Tomorrow I could get lucky,

I could have a bigger bomb.

I could kill more people.

Children, maybe...

~~Farscape

“Harry, that's awful. What-Why would something attack Albus?”

Harry shook his head and took a sip of red wine from his crystal wine glass. He was seated at Ron and Hermione's dining table next to Ginny, relaxing after a full meal of roast beef and potatoes, covered in gravy.

“I was actually hoping somewhere in that head of yours, Hermione, you'd have some idea what these mist-creature things were. I've spent all day at the Ministry after seeing Al and Rose this morning at Hogwarts, talked to the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures and everything... no one has a bloody clue.”

It was frustrating as all hell, Harry thought, and Ginny squeezed his hand resting on the clear-glass table reassuringly. She had gone off just as expected this morning, and owled Al straight away. He had replied promptly, Merlins bless his good sense, and assured her that he was fine. Which he was, despite what had happened, and Harry chalked that up to his young age. The younger they were the easier it was to bounce back after the darkness had struck. His life was testament enough to that, although more often of late Harry wondered just how unscathed he was in that regard.

“Sorry, no,” Hermione said, and she was truly sorry.

Harry could almost see her eyes flipping through the vast store of knowledge caught in her mind, a library's worth of books and learned facts about everything under the sun. Yet she came up empty with no idea at all as to the nature of Albus's mysterious mist-creatures.

“Didn't expect you'd know anything, anyway,” Harry said. “This has the feeling of something... new, I suppose you could say. Even Dumbledore's portrait couldn't give me any clues.”

“What do you mean something new?” Ron asked. He had been just as livid as Harry after hearing what had happened to Al. He was Al's uncle, after all, and it could have just as easily been Rose drawn from her bed in the middle of the night.

Harry shook his head, and his wife and oldest friends did not say anything as he absently raised a hand to the infamous lightning bolt scar, stroking it softly. “Just a feeling, Ron, just a feeling... something new.” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “Or something very old.”

There was silence at that, and a tension of unspoken fear descended on the warm, candlelit dining room.

“Well,” Hermione said. “There's chocolate gateau for dessert, and coffee. Any takers?”

“Please,” Ginny said with a smile, and Harry nodded.

Hermione knew Ron well enough to not even ask if he'd be wanting any cake, it was a given. She headed off to the kitchen and Harry, Ginny and Ron moved into the living room.

Harry undid his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves to the elbow, falling down into an armchair by the fireplace as he did. Ginny squeezed in next to him, crossing her leg over his shin and putting her arm around his shoulders.

“You put Aurors at Hogwarts, right?” Ron asked, his concern lacing his words with worry.

“A dozen of them - under Drogin's command.”

“Good, good.”

“They'll stay there until we have some idea what it is we're dealing with, and if we can expect to see them again any time soon.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, but why Albus? Why?”

“He's my son,” Harry said simply, and that was enough. What other reason could there be? Harry Potter had had enemies since before he was born. It could just as easily have been James.

“Here we go.” Hermione swept into the room on her heels, two plates of sticky chocolate cake resting on her forearms and a fistful of silver forks.

“Thanks, 'Mione,” Ron said, digging in with relish and forgetting the unease and tension that seemed to have settled quite firmly in Harry's stomach.

Determined not to let the discomfort he was feeling show, Harry ate his dessert, yet slowly, deep in thought as the conversation spiralled around him.

“We received an owl today with an invitation to Kingsley's birthday celebration - Hogwarts is hosting it a fortnight tomorrow.” Ginny stroked slow circles with the tips of her fingers on Harry's neck.

“So did we. I heard a rumour he was retiring,” Ron said. “If he does we'll have to make sure some plonker doesn't end up with the top job.”

“Out of all the Department Head's I think Harry would have the best shot, if he were nominated.” Hermione smiled as Harry jumped out of his thoughts.

“I said no plonkers,” Ron quipped.

“Not in a million years would I ever want to be the bloody Minister of Magic. Paperwork's bad enough as it is.”

“Half the wizarding world would vote for you,” Ginny said. “I think the Aurors would manage without you. There are no Dark Lord's to defeat, hero.”

Harry smiled, but it felt more than a little forced. His mind jumped back to Azkaban, to Umbridge, and the suspect that he'd nicknamed the Shadowman. There was still not a scrap of physical evidence from Azkaban that even proved the existence of an intruder on the island. But he did exist, Harry knew, even if no one else could believe it, he knew.

A warning, Potter-boy, a lightning bolt, a key to the Lord Myst. He Who Must Not Be Named walks in the shadows, and no one is safe... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord...

It was absurd to even suggest that Voldemort was alive and well. His torn soul had been rent asunder by his own hand, and Harry had sent every piece of it screaming into Hell.

Harry had also reluctantly concluded that perhaps Umbridge had not been speaking about him at this point in her insane ramblings. Potter-boy. Could that be a clue? A link in some way to Albus? That felt right, but still failed to make any sense at all.

“Harry?” Ginny tapped him on the shoulder. “You've got your Auror-face on. Quit working for a minute, would you.”

Harry once again fell out of his thoughts. He found a grin and stepped back into the after-dinner conversation. Hermione had made coffee and Harry took his with just a splash of cream.

All was well, he had thought only a week ago. And now something was stirring the shadows of the past, of Harry's past, throwing him off balance. He had to find who it was and put them down hard before people, innocent people, started to die.

*~*~*~*

Stepping onto the clean-cut and spiky grass of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch for the first time in his young life was not something Albus Potter would ever forget. Under the early afternoon sun, on the last day of the weekend, and only a single night since he had been attacked, he stood with James and a few others, gazing up at the impressive stands high above, and the team colour flags of Gryffindor-gold, Slytherin-green, Ravenclaw-blue, and Hufflepuff-yellow blowing softly in the breeze.

Albus was here to try out for the open Seeker position on the Gryffindor team. For the last five years that position had been held by Teddy Lupin - who had finished Hogwarts just a handful of months ago - leaving behind three Gryffindor victories and two runner-up trophies as his legacy to Hogwarts Quidditch.

He stood next to his older brother with his broomstick slung over his shoulder. Both of their broomsticks were of the same design - a design that had finally knocked the Firebolt off the top-spot in the competitive broomstick manufacturing market. His dad had gotten them both a Windburn over the school break, and Albus had high hopes for his performance today. He knew he could only be a reserve player, but that still meant he might get a chance to play this year, and next year if he outflew whoever was Seeker after today he could even be brought forward from reserve.

Also trying out for the position was James' friend Ethan Trevaine and a handful of people from the older years that Albus did not know. He was the only first-year, and that was a little nerve-wracking.

“Right then,” the team captain said, a blonde seventh-year named Alison Bennett. She cast her eyes over the group of six hopeful Seekers and nodded at what she saw. “Thanks for coming out. You're here to try-out for the position of Seeker on my team. Both the main position and the reserve position have opened up this year, and the trials will be done in teams of two. You'll be judged against speed, accuracy, time elapsed, and technique. Basically, catch the Snitch as fast as you can - the fastest person to do it is on the team, second fastest in reserve. Now let's split you up.”

Albus ended up paired with James, Ethan with a fifth-year girl sporting pigtails, and the other two fourth-years stuck together, all of them eyeing the fluttering golden snitch resting on Alison's palm anxiously.

“You two first,” she said, nodding at Ethan and his partner. The snitch sprung to life on her palm and darted away up into the sky. “Give it sixty seconds and you're after it.”

Albus tried to follow the snitch and he actually kept an eye on it for about half a minute before its constant ducking and diving evaded his sight and it flew too high. James and all the others fared no better, and that was encouraging.

Ethan shot off the ground as soon as Alison shouted “Go!” and headed straight up a little shakily on one of the school's broomsticks. The girl with the pigtails took off in a completely different direction, across the pitch, her eyes sharp and clear and determined to latch onto the elusive golden snitch.

Had this been a real Quidditch match, with a dozen other players zipping by on their brooms, a roaring crowd and dangerous bludgers spinning through the air fast enough to shatter limbs, then it may have taken Ethan longer that twenty minutes to trap the shiny snitch within his hand.

James whooped and punched his fist into the air as Ethan flew back down to the ground and alighted from the broom. His partner congratulated him unhappily and left the pitch.

“Next up, Felicity and Stephen,” Alison said, flipping her hair back over her shoulders and releasing the snitch for a second time. “Wait a minute now…”

Again Albus kept an eye on the snitch for as long as he could, his head snapping back and forth across the sky, before it dashed out of sight, and then the two fourth-years, Felicity and Stephen, were off after it, both of them confident and sure on broomsticks of their own - a cleansweep and a nimbus.

It was over in about the same amount of time it had taken Ethan to snatch the snitch - just over twenty minutes, which meant at the moment Ethan was in the lead for the position, with felicity the fourth-year girl ready in reserve.

“Okay then, we've got the Potter brothers lucky last,” Alison said, holding the snitch aloft on her palm in front of both James and Albus. “You catch it in less than nineteen minutes and thirty seconds and you've got the spot, james.” She turned and smiled at Albus. “And you, Albus, if you catch it before your brother in the same amount of time you'll play in reserve for the year. Got it?”

Albus nodded, all of a sudden very nervous. James was smiling at him, but it was a fierce and competitive smile. He'd always thought James an excellent flyer, although he'd eat pickled newt-eyes before telling him that, and now he was playing against his brother for a position on the house Quidditch team. A position that wouldn't even guarantee him a match, and James had talked about nothing but playing Quidditch since he got back from his first year at Hogwarts.

Should I just let him win? Albus thought, swinging his leg over his broomstick and hovering a few feet above the hard grass of the pitch. James smirked at him, and mimed falling off his broom as he reached out to grab the snitch.

“Think you can keep up with me, Al?” James laughed.

The Windburn was humming with energy between his legs and Albus knew he'd need to hold on tight for the acceleration. he and James had flown out with dad in the yard back at home over the summer, and over the forest near Ottery St Catchpole, so he knew how to handle the broom.

“You just watch me,” Albus said.

“Did you get those height-restricting charms mum put on there removed?” James flew around Albus, just as Alison released the snitch for a third and final time.

Albus scowled. All of a sudden letting James win did not seem like such a reasonable thing to do. No, not at all. He was going to fly his best, and if that meant beating his brother then so be it - Albus knew he could be faster, as he was a lot smaller. He followed the fluttering snitch up into the sky, as did James having fallen silent now, and almost ached to shoot off after it whilst it was still in sight. The small golden ball disappeared behind the Ravenclaw stands and did not reappear out the other side. Gone, and the game was on.

“Go, boys!” Alison cried.

“Ha,” albus said, shooting off on his broom fast and sure, with James right alongside. Both of them had last seen the snitch behind the Ravenclaw stands.

It had taken the other two pairs about twenty minutes each to locate and trap the shiny snitch. Ethan and Felicity had done so in a fairly good time, considering the size and elusiveness of the snitch, yet Albus and James were done in five minutes, and it was five minutes of fast-flying, quick turns and several near-misses with the golden ball.

Remembering everything his dad had taught him about Seeking, Albus flew up high fast, and stayed there. James darted around the Ravenclaw stands and shot straight up above them, his eyes scouring the pitch and sky quickly, and also making sure Albus wasn't on to it before him.

Up above the pitch Albus could see Hogwarts in the near-distance, shining in the sun. He looked over to the west at the Forbidden Forest and shuddered as he imagined a river of cool, sparkling mist reaching out from within its dark depths to snatch him from his broom. He turned to watch the pitch from another angle that kept the forest out of view, and was rewarded almost instantly as he caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye.

He almost laughed - it had only been forty-five seconds - as he spied the snitch hovering between the goalposts at the far end of the pitch. He took off at once, the Windburn accelerating to seventy-miles an hour in about four seconds. It took a moment for Albus's stomach to catch up, as he shot past James, and made a play for the snitch.

He thought he heard James swear as his brother turned and shot after him, yet they were riding the same broom and Albus was faster due to his weight, and already in front.

The goalpost hoops reared up quickly, and with a bit of fancy flying Albus swooped straight through the centre hoop, much to the amazement of Alison, Ethan, Felicity and Stephen down on the ground, who raised a cheer as Albus stretched out his hand for the fluttering snitch just an arm's length away…

Only to have it dive away beneath him and shoot back across the pitch straight at James.

It sped away underneath his brother's broom, just as albus came out of a quick nauseating spin in mid-air after a split-second stop and shot off again, back at James who was just falling into the same gut-wrenching manoeuvre.

He caught up to James just as his brother began to accelerate after the glittering snitch, drawing level and nudging shoulders, neck and neck, both riding hard for the spot on the house team.

With the wind howling in his ears and his brother's heavier mass keeping him from inching ahead, Albus didn't dare swerve out and back in - his light build was an advantage, sure, but here at the crux he wouldn't have time to fly past before James's hand closed around the snitch.

So it was with both of their arms outstretched that Albus and James fell upon the snitch, as the goalposts and the hoops from the other side of the pitch reared up before them both. The snitch was so close that Albus could hear its wings thrumming on the air as it tried to elude their grasp.

Albus shuffled forward on his broom, his hand outstretched and actually brushed the cool metal of the snitch with the tips of his fingers a moment before James's longer arm came crashing down and snatched the ball out of the air with a triumphant gasp, both boys separating and flying up and away a heartbeat before crashing into the goalposts.

So close, Albus thought, flying slowly back to the ground behind his brother and cursing the length of his arm. He landed softly back on the grass and was immediately slapped on the back by Ethan.

“Great flying, AL,” he said. “Straight through the hoops, that was wicked!”

“Hey, where's my high-five?” James asked. “I beat the little sprout to the snitch.”

“Yeah but Albus lost with style,” Ethan said. “And it was down to either of you right at the end there.”

“Yeah, but-” James began.

“I agree,” Alison Bennett said, sizing both James and Albus up for Quidditch uniforms. “James won the spot fair and square, he caught the snitch in the fastest time, but Albus saw it first and did a lot of good flying up there - I want you in reserve, Albus Potter.”

Albus's jaw dropped and James knocked it closed with a wink. “Everything went exactly according to plan,” he said.

“Ha, you didn't plan this James - Albus almost had you.” Ethan punched his friend in the arm.

“Yeah,” Albus agreed, slinging his broom over his shoulder as Alison packed away the snitch and they began to walk off the pitch. “I almost beat you. You planned nothing!”

“Didn't I, Albus, didn't I?” James said wisely, tapping the side of his nose as if hiding a great secret.

“No, you moron, you didn't!”

*~*~*~*

Monday morning found Harry at work and down in the depths of the Ministry greeting the new crop of Auror recruits enrolled in the introductory course straight out of Hogwarts. Every year twenty positions were offered by the Department to those with the right NEWTs and those with the right magical ability, and of those twenty maybe five or six would make it through to be apprenticed alongside a full Auror after the first year.

Harry always liked to meet the new recruits before they got started, to let them know that what they were getting into was real, and would be the most challenging thing many of them would ever do. He liked to scare them a little, make sure those that wanted to be here really  wanted to be here.

There was something special about this year's recruits, however, or about one of the recruits in particular. As Harry entered the main lecture auditorium deep beneath the London underground, and on the same floor as most of the Department of Mysteries, he was greeted by silence from nineteen individuals dressed for the first time in white trainee-robes, and a mischievous grin from a single recruit with shocking purple hair and eyes so deep and blue that they could have been mistaken for sapphires.

Teddy Lupin.

Harry's godson and the son of Remus Lupin and former Auror Nymphadora Tonks, both casualties of the Battle of Hogwarts alongside so many others…

When Harry did not return his godson's grin Teddy's hair wilted and changed sharply from electric-purple to a more natural brown. He had inherited his mother's metamorphmagus ability. The swift change to his natural hair colour gave Teddy more than a passing resemblance to his father.

In Teddy, Harry could see a young Remus Lupin. Remus Lupin as he must have looked before Pettigrew and Voldemort had torn apart his world, murdered Harry's parents and drove Sirius insane enough to go screaming into Azkaban for twelve godforsaken years.

Harry blinked. He was getting caught in the damned past again. He was still young, far too young to be reminiscing about his youth… yet how many men his age had so much loss behind them, or had had to sacrifice their childhood to destroy a near-immortal madman.

Harry decided then and there that he definitely needed to get away for awhile, somewhere warm and tropical with Ginny. He'd make a holiday his first priority once he wrapped up all the mystery and intrigue surrounding this Shadowman, who had made the papers this morning.

It had finally been leaked to the press that there was a breach at Azkaban, and the Prophet had jumped all over that with its usual critique of those in power. Lax procedures, inefficient rostering and an Auror Commander with not enough resolve to keep Azkaban secure, had been some of the finer points of the article. Harry still marvelled at how quickly and how sure the public's opinion could turn against him, more so than ever now.

And in a completely unrelated article that hailed Harry as the 'saviour of the wizarding world' it had been reported that his son, Albus Severus Potter, had been involved in some sort of dark creature attack at Hogwarts, and was rumoured to have fought off 'creatures of sheer terror' all on his own. That story had been close enough to the truth, all things considered.

Harry found himself on the lecturing platform before an enchanted chalkboard, looking out at the auditorium and the twenty recruits that in no way filled the room to capacity, his expression calm and neutral, and his hands crossed behind his back.

“Good morning,” he said. “My name is Commander Harry James Potter, and you young boys and girls are here today because you want to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as the best of the best, as the elite of the wizarding defence force - as one of my Aurors.”

He swept his gaze over each and every one of them. More than a few sat up straighter at their desks, and of all twenty Teddy Lupin looking the most uncertain. Harry smiled to himself - his godson had never seen him so serious before.

“You're here because you did well in school, because your NEWTs were good enough to get you through our entrance exam - and only barely at that.  This environment will be much like your lessons at Hogwarts would have been. You will have instructors, your professors and perhaps one day fellow Aurors, who will teach you.” Here Harry paused. “Any similarity to your school education ends there.”

Harry paused again to make sure his words were heard and understood, that they had time to sink in.

“It will be hard, it will break you, and you will want to quit. Only the strong survive this course, only the smart, and the cunning, and the loyal, and the brave. You will learn magic not known to the general public, you will learn strategies of war, you will study Dark magic to know what it is you're up against, and you will learn to use magic in self-defence that can end a person's life….”

Harry allowed what he thought was a comforting, encouraging smile to spread across his face. None of the Auror recruits looked encouraged.

“There will be no room for error, no allowance for a mistake. You live in a time of peace, yet that peace came at a terrible cost - a cost in lives of children just like you who wanted to make a difference, children who refused to be oppressed and subjugated by the Dark Arts… Each and every one of you already has my respect for wanting to be that difference for the next generation. Merlin willing, you will grow old never having to prove yourself in war.”

There was scattered applause after he finished and Harry grinned, running a hand back through his hair. Ron had said that his recruits from last year, who were nearing the end of their introduction now, considered him a bit of a hardass. It was something he'd encourage. It did not hurt in the least to be afraid when starting a job like this… fear would always be a big part of defence against the Dark Arts.

“Now then,” Harry continued. “So, your first day, is it. What to do with you - I think the Acromentula training course should be a nice warm-up. Is anyone allergic to giant-spider venom?”

Teddy Lupin laughed out loud at the startled expressions on the faces of his fellow recruits, but stifled it quickly with a hard look from Harry.

“That was a joke, folks, the spiders are after Christmas. For now, I think we'll go down the hall and sit in on the recruits who have been through most of this course. Come on, follow me.”

Harry led the way out into the torch-lit and winding corridors of the Auror's underground training facility. The twenty recruits followed him and Harry called Teddy up to the front next to him.

“It's good to see you here, Teddy,” he whispered, and did smile at his godson now. “I'm proud of you, your mother would be overjoyed and your father, too.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Teddy replied, his hair shimmering to his house colours - Gryffindor, of course.

“I wasn't joking when I said it would be difficult, however. You'll have to really dig in, kid, and don't expect any favours.”

Teddy nodded, taking his godfather seriously. “I will and I don't, Harry.”

“Good - you'll make it, Ted, I can see it in your eyes - which, by the way, are lime green. Metamorphing will give you an advantage over the rest of the recruits here - so long as you can control it better than you've been doing so far.”

“Just excited,” Teddy mumbled, forcing his eyes to calm down to a natural blue. “Weren't you, Harry, back when you started?”

“Teddy, I started in the course the summer after I defeated Voldemort and ended the Dark War. If anything, I was relieved and looking forward to a break when I came here.”

“And did you get it?”

Harry shook his head. “I had to work hard, just like everyone else. This is far from fun, believe me. Be prepared for anything.”

That Teddy seemed to accept and understand. His facial expressions were so much akin to Remus Lupin that Harry thought he was seeing his old professor's ghost at times, hidden in a face that was more inclined to smile, and that did not carry the same burdens his father had all those years ago.

“I got an owl from Victoire this morning,” Teddy said. “She said Albus was involved in something Friday night…”

Harry looked sideways at Teddy as they approached the doors to another one of the lecture rooms, this one slightly smaller. “Did she? He's fine, Teddy, not to worry. And speaking of Victoire, do I need to do a godfather-to-godson chat about the birds and the bees?”

Teddy laughed, looking a little horrified. “I think I've got it covered, Harry.”

“You sure? Because I had this whole conversation planned out with some really good symbolism about keeping your wand in its holster.”

Teddy snorted. “Is that part of Auror training?”

“You're going to be surprised what's a part of Auror training,” Harry said, swinging open the doors to the lecture auditorium containing Ron Weasley and his ten surviving recruits from the original class of twenty.

“Ah, here we go, recruits,” Ron said. He stood at the front of the large room down below the rows of raised seats where Harry had done his introduction in the other theatre. “Commander Potter, you've fresh meat I see.”

Harry led his twenty new recruits into the room and ordered them to sit down up and above the class below. Most of Ron's recruits looked around with interest at the latest batch straight out of Hogwarts - some of them would probably know one another. Teddy was waving to someone he seemed to recognise.

“Auror Recruit Class of 2017,” Harry said. “We've come to observe, if you don't mind, Professor Weasley.”

Ron grimaced and there were a few chuckles from his recruits at the word 'professor'. “Not at all,” he said. “Although we're not doing any of the exciting spellwork today, unfortunately, just necessary theory.”

Harry scanned the enchanted chalkboard behind Ron, taking particular notice of the figures and equations dancing around two chalk figures involved in a duel to the death. One of them was an Auror, the other a dark wizard. The spells were being simplified down to basic equations, tested against magical use and stamina.

“Strategy and Problem Solving from the looks of things,” Harry said, taking a seat behind the twenty new recruits so he could watch their reactions throughout the lesson. “I'd say possibly one of the most important things an Auror can know and do.”

“You hear that?” Ron said to his own recruits. “Straight from Harry Potter himself. Recruit Cruz, please tell me and the rookies why strategy is important?”

One of the recruits near the front of the room, a young woman with strawberry blonde hair jumped and looked up at Harry quickly before blushing. “Well, it's important,” she began, glancing down at her notes and textbook for inspiration. “It's important because one of the best things an Auror can do is think critically, assess a situation and devise the best strategy to counter any attack or defuse a potentially lethal threat.”

“Very good,” Ron said. “A little two-dimensional, Cruz, and in no way foolproof, yet your basic premise is correct.” He paused. “However, strategy can only take you so far - the best plans only ever last a few minutes into any battle, you have to learn to be adaptive, to be fast on your feet, or else strategy is useless.”

Ron turned to the chalkboard, and gestured at it with his wand. “Take this riddle for example - the answer is obvious, yet a little strategy is involved in getting there. You'll slap yourselves for not getting this straight away. Listening carefully… I arrive once in every second, once in every minute, and once in every year. What am I?”

Harry knew the answer. It was indeed obvious, but involved a little… thinking down, he supposed.

“No one?” Ron said. “Come on, time's ticking away. Should we let the new rookies have a stab at it? Okay, you lot, wow me on your first day.”

Harry watched his recruits discuss it amongst themselves, and that was a good sign of teamwork already. Although Teddy looked anxious to solve it all on his own, he was listening to the opinions of the others. Good lad.

“It's the letter 'E'!” one of Ron's group exclaimed in a burst of clarity.

“Oh, Finley,” Ron said, walking back and forth on his lecturing platform. “You're the strategist of the group, I see. Okay, boys and girls, try this: Name just five day's of the week in English without actually saying, or writing, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. You've got sixty seconds, starting now!”

Again Harry's group seemed to want to work as whole, which was good, yet it could lead to a single mindset which in the field could get them all killed at once, which was not so good. Ron's group of recruits were working in teams of two and three and ignoring the suggestions they could overhear. A much more reliable tactic, yet the strategy was shaky there, as well.

Ron moved around to his desk and lifted up a cardboard box from behind it, rattling the contents and looking as though he was about to hand out a treat.

“This one's got you all stumped,” he said. “Oh, my, my, my… Looks like graduation is cancelled.”

“I've got an answer,” Teddy spoke up. He rose from his chair with his hair shimmering blue and his eyes swirling gold with excitement. “Five days of the week, sure, there's the day before yesterday, yesterday itself, today, tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow.”

“And a point to Mr. Lupin,” Ron said. “Not so much logical that riddle as an example on how to look at things a little differently. You can sit down, Mr. Lupin.”

“Right,” Teddy said, slipping back into his chair. He looked up at Harry with a smile and Harry gave him a wink in return.

“A third riddle, for those looking to impress me: A man is fifty years old, he is six feet tall, and works in a butcher shop wearing size eleven shoes. What does he weigh? Tick-tock, your minute starts now.”

There was discussion again - yet no discussion between the new recruits and the old recruits. Understandable, given the fact that Ron's recruits had been training together for nearly twelve months, but it also showed that they weren't using all of the resources available to them.

Harry inwardly smiled to himself as he watched Teddy's hair change in frustration from crimson-red to sky-blue and back to natural-brown before the cycle started off again. The kid really needed some training to get a hold of his ability. His mother could have taught him, if not for Voldemort, but then that was an old sore thought for Harry….

Teddy jumped up again, his eyes blazing. “He weighs meat!” he exclaimed with a small chuckle. “He's a butcher, and he weighs meat.”

“Mr. Lupin again,” Ron said, placing the box he had been carrying on his desk. “Quite right, of course, you've got your head in the right place for looking at things from a different angle. I wonder how you'd fair at a little problem solving…”

Harry had no idea what Ron had in his mystery box, but he was looking forward to finding out. He had chosen Ron to train the new recruits as he was one of the best Aurors he had, and his understanding of tactics and strategy was second to none. He actually played chess on an international level these days, against the best wizards in the world.

“Now I have a little something of Muggle design in this box of mine,” Ron said. “One for each of you - Wingardium Leviosa.” Several small cubes constructed of black plastic with coloured stickers on them rose from the cardboard box and shot off towards both his and Harry's recruits. “A logic and memory puzzle that requires a lot of brain power to get your head around - so I'll bet a gold galleon against each of you that it'll take you the best part of an hour, if that, to do this. Some people go years without actually figuring this thing out.”

“What's it called, Auror Weasley?” one of his recruits asked, turning the colourful cube over in her young hands.

“It's called a Rubik's Cube. A puzzle based on mathematical algorithms. This particular cube is the standard three-by-three, and each side is covered with nine stickers of varying colours. There are six colours in all, and to solve the puzzle you have to match each side with a single colour so that the cube is solid and even. Does everyone have one? Commander Potter, did I miss you?”

“No, you didn't,” Harry said, turning the cube in his hands. He shuffled one of the sides around and managed to match three of the green stickers on a single row. He turned it again and managed to undo even that. “Thank you very much, Professor.”

“More than welcome, Commander.” Ron smirked. “That's right, recruits; you're not only competing against each other but against the famous Harry Potter.” Harry scowled. “Compete for my love now. First person to solve the cube gets out of running the obstacle course this afternoon.”

For about half a minute nothing could be heard in the room but the clicking and turning of the thirty or so cubes on their swivels. All of the recruits and Harry concentrated hard, turning the Muggle puzzle back and forth, trying to match the colours on each side.

“Just something to think about as you toil away,” Ron said. “Another riddle: The more you take of me, the more you leave behind. What am I?”

Harry knew the answer to that one, and thought about speaking up but was beaten to it.

“Time,” a recruit on the far side of the lecture theatre said, down at the front. “The answer to that is time.”

The recruit also held in his hand, above his hand, a completed Rubik's cube, all the colours matching. It had only taken him about forty seconds.

“Recruit Crichton,” Ron said, gesturing for the completed cube. Crichton tossed it to him and Ron examined it from all sides. “Well I never, you get lucky or have you done this before?”

Crichton laughed - he was as young as the rest, only a year out of Hogwarts. “It's a simple algorithm, Auror Weasley, based on a three dimensional mathematical representation of three. And that riddle was your easiest yet.” He had a smiling face, with laughter lines around his eyes. “You owe me thirty galleons - thirty-one, including Commander Potter - looks like it's your shout at The Leaky Cauldron tonight.”

Ron sighed and gazed up at Harry, who was trying not to laugh himself. Teddy Lupin looked disgruntled that he had been unable to solve the cube or the riddle this time, and turned it uselessly in his hands a few times before giving up.

“He's got you, Auror Weasley. Never underestimate an adversary, they may have skills and abilities of which you know nothing.”

“Not really, sir,” Recruit Crichton replied, glancing up at Harry. He wore a bandana to keep his long, dark bangs out of his eyes - eyes which danced with barely suppressed mirth. “I grew up with one of those things - my older sister is a Muggle Mathematics teacher, too, so that helped.”

“Like I said,” Harry replied. “Skills and abilities, and unexpected resources, that will unmake even the best strategy. Well done, recruit.”

“Aye, well done,” Ron grumbled.

Harry excused himself about ten minutes later, leaving his new recruits in Ron's capable hands. They would run the obstacle course with the older group that afternoon, and learn just how unfit they were. Running the course morning, noon, and night would soon set them all straight there.

He was proud of the way Teddy had answered the riddles, how quickly he had reacted - he would definitely be the recruit to watch this year, if his performance continued like that. And Ron's recruit, Crichton, would definitely make it through graduation if the rest of his work was as good as his display today.

Harry recalled that Crichton had been the one who had disarmed a full-Auror in the field exercises at Dover a few days ago - disarmed him right over the edge of the White Cliffs. An honest mistake, and it was only Crichton's quick wand work that had saved Auror Wilkes from shattering against the rocks below, too, so all's well that ends well. That kid had the makings of a great Auror.

Back up in his office the memos had piled up considerably and Harry turned his attention to them with a sigh. He had also received a report from Drogin at Hogwarts, stating for the second time now that everything had been quiet and all-clear during the night, not a sign of any mist or unknown Dark creatures. The twelve Aurors he had assigned patrolled the grounds and the border of the Forbidden Forest from dusk till dawn, and not a thing was out of place.

That was a good thing and a bad thing, Harry supposed. He needed more to go on if this investigation into the Azkaban breach was going to get off the ground. So far there was nothing but speculation and hearsay. None of the Ministry's security analysts could say with any degree of certainty how someone could bypass the countless wards settled over Azkaban prison. That, if nothing else, reluctantly impressed Harry. The audacity of it reminded him of Sirius Black, all those years ago.

For the next few hours Harry dealt with his paperwork and sent off a few owls requesting information from a few of the more notable private security specialists in the wizarding world outside of the Ministry. He had to know how Azkaban could be breached, because nothing was stopping the Shadowman from doing it again. He also sent an owl to a friend he had in the Muggle world of police forensics - this was a personal lead of his own he wanted to follow, and it had to do with the blood that flowed through his son's veins - his own veins. Blood that had repelled creature's of Dark magic.

Maggie King was a blood and DNA forensic scientist with Scotland Yard, and one of Harry's contacts in the Muggle policing forces. That agreement between the Ministry and the Muggle Prime Minister's government was known only to a few. It was a deal Harry had insisted Kingsley make once he had been promoted to the Head of Department some ten years ago now. It had been a complex and almost hostile negotiation at the time, but basically the deal meant Harry could call on muggle resources when necessary to help catch wizards breaching the Statute of Secrecy, and in turn two Aurors were on call at Scotland Yard to deal with anything… less than normal to a Muggle.

It was a groundbreaking agreement, and perhaps the first step toward integrating the magical world into the muggle world. Hermione even had a name for the adapted Muggle technology the deal had birthed.

“Technomancy,” she had called it, her eyes alight with dozens of possibilities. Muggle technology was advancing so quickly this century that fairly soon it was believed they would be able to put a man on the planet Mars. Which was simply extraordinary - beyond extraordinary. And integrating magic into some of their weapons and fuel devices was a big leap forward in Wizard-Muggle relations.

Of course, all weapons were top-secret and only Harry had full access to that particular project running down in the Department of Mysteries. Muggle firearms had so far been adapted quite usefully and one day soon they would probably be a part of the standard Auror's field equipment.

Harry had requested to see Maggie King about a blood specimen - his own blood - later in the week. He was anticipating the results to be either wholly normal, or something unexpected. There was a lot of magic in his veins, after all.

“I need a break,” Harry said to himself, thinking about getting some time in down at the wand range and practicing a few of the rougher spells from his offensive arsenal. He had been practicing using dual wands, a technique rarely used due to the drain on spell power and effectiveness - but he'd made progress getting around that.

He didn't think about it often, but Harry knew that no one had bested him in a duel since his quest for the Deathly Hallows all those years ago. And even though he was Head of the Department, and didn't see as much field work as he used to, duelling was not a skill he was about to let get rusty.

Filing away the reports he'd managed to write and shuffling a load of memos into his Out tray, Harry followed the small fluttering scraps of parchment out of his office and over to the golden-grilled elevators that would take him back down to the training facility.

Inside the lift, he twisted his wrist and his old wand in the holster strapped to his forearm leapt forward into his hand, eager to perform some high-level offensive spells down at the wand range.

The grille on the elevator sprang open and the friendly, female voice announced that he had arrived on the right level, the Department of Mysteries. Harry stepped out onto the cool marble floor tiles and gasped as a rush of freezing air shivered down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck rose covered in frost.

Dark magic, he thought in the split-second between stepping out of the lift, and seeing the impossible.

There was a hunched and pale figure standing just a few feet away, a figure holding a wand pointed straight at Harry's heart.

“Avada Kedavra,” Dolores Umbridge said, her face swollen and grey, and her eyes empty of anything, of all life, save a swirling, dreadful mist.

*~*~*~*