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Harry Potter and the Secret of Atlantis (Harry Potter AU/Tomb Raider Crossover) (Complete)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Starfox5, Nov 3, 2018.

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  1. Threadmarks: Chapter 30: Homecoming
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Chapter 30: Homecoming

    ‘Even though the wizarding nations originally covered the same territory as the muggle nations from which they separated in 1692, the three centuries since that date have seen a great deal of change - and not merely because of the incessant wars waged by the muggles on a scale almost incomprehensible to the average wizard. No, conflicts in the magical world also resulted in changed borders. The nations of the New World seceding from their mother countries, the countless wizarding enclaves founded in North America, of which many perished just as quickly as they appeared, and the wars of independence waged against the Ottoman Empire by many of its client states and tribes within its former borders are just a few of the more famous examples.
    However, not all borders changed because of violent conflicts. The Magical Kingdom of Mysore doubled its territory thanks to marriages with the heirs of lesser states in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, although its borders were also expanded by military conquest. And the shamans of North America have formed such a close defensive alliance that they might very well be one nation, despite the continuing raiding between individual tribes.
    But, even with magic’s continuous advancement, as well as every magical countries having been freed from the shackles of muggle involvement, natural borders continue to be a factor. Despite improvements in magical travel, long distances, especially over an ocean, still limit a country’s ability to take and maintain control of an area - which is, in the age of the Statue of Secrecy, a crucial requirement for every magical government, lest the ICW step in and force a change of administration or borders to rectify the situation. Often, the mere threat of such action is enough to push the different sides in a conflict into mediation, such as Albus Dumbledore’s skilful handling of the crisis between Magical Aden and the Naga Nation over the latter’s outpost in the Red Sea.’
    - Excerpt from ‘Politics and Portkeys - A Look at International Relations in the Wizarding World’ by Lily Maven, London, 2000


    *****​

    Caribbean Sea, Puerto Rico Trench,
    December 18th, 2001

    Ron Weasley had wanted to close his eyes when he saw Mallory’s ghost slowly being dragged into the skull but had watched until the end despite the pitifulness of the sight. The man had been a traitor, a blood mage and a blackmailer, Ron reminded himself. Mallory had brought this upon himself, as far as Ron was concerned, by forcing their hand with his threats and sly hints.

    Still, to be bound for eternity in a skull which would be dropped into a mud volcano under the sea? Although he was just a ghost, not a soul. Just an imprint, a weak copy, of a real human. Even though he sounded and acted like the real Mallory.

    “Good riddance!” Ari said. He glanced at her and saw that she was baring her teeth in a wide grin. It made her look fierce, hinting at her other form, and he smiled despite the circumstances - he knew she was still affected by the obscene amount of blood magic that had been done in the room.

    So he pulled her into a hug. “It’s over now,” he told her. “Kraft, Kohlmeier and Mallory are all gone. Let’s leave this place.”

    “The temple? Or the cavern?”

    “First one, then the other.” There was no reason to linger much longer. They had recovered Kohlmeier’s remains, torn robes and wand, as well as those of Mallory and Kraft, but had yet to check them for curses and other traps so they could search them for the relics stolen from the Sultan’s Palace.

    “There are still the Inferi left,” she pointed out as he mounted his broom. “We need to destroy them.”

    That was another reason to leave the cavern. “Fire doesn’t hurt them, and most curses are barely more effective,” he replied. “We would probably need a week to to destroy them all and might damage a lot of the cavern in the process.”

    “Leaving them will make exploring the place very dangerous,” she retorted.

    “Which isn’t an entirely bad thing, I think,” he said. “It’ll keep the numbers of claim jumpers and grave robbers down.”

    He was joking - mostly - but she nodded. “That’s right. And Dumbledore might have an easy solution for dealing with them.”

    “Perhaps.” Ari was quite in awe of the Headmaster, but Dumbledore had cowed the houngans of Jamaica practically by himself, so it wasn’t improbable that he’d be prepared for such a threat. “Come on, let’s get back to the Range Rover,” he said, waving at her.

    She nodded and joined him on the broom.

    “We’re going back to the Rover!” he yelled to Harry and Hermione so he’d be heard over the growling from the zombies below.

    “Good idea,” Harry yelled back. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

    Ron nodded and guided the broom to the gates, keeping an eye out for climbing Inferi. You couldn’t underestimate the buggers - they were far smarter than the usual zombies.

    Fortunately, they weren’t smart enough to use tools, though - or to throw things. And the outer walls of the temple were too smooth for them to climb. Ron still checked with a quick detection spell if any Inferi were on the roof before passing through the temple gates - to die now, in their moment of triumph…

    He shook his head as he pulled up next to the Land Rover floating high above the streets. Harry and his movies. A flick of his wand unlocked the enchanted door, and he flew into the room behind it, which served as an entrance hall. The door closing behind them cut off the racket from the Inferi, which was a relief.

    Ari jumped off the broom, stretching. “How much longer will we stay?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

    “That depends on Harry and Hermione. They’ll need to rest after the ritual,” he replied, shrinking and storing the broom. They might want to add a broom locker next to the door, in case they had to bail out in a hurry and had no brooms on them. He made a mental note. “And even though we’ve got a zombie horde on the streets wanting to devour us, I think we’re actually safer here than on the surface, where bounty hunters might find us.” It wasn’t very likely, but the yacht they had rented would have been found by now, and someone might put two and two together. “And we need to recover the sphere before we leave.” It wouldn’t do to let whoever the ICW sent with Dumbledore to verify their claims stumble upon proof of their slightly questionable acquisition of a muggle artefact.

    “Ah.” Ari grinned and stepped closer to him. “So we have a little more time to celebrate.”

    He returned her smile as he wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, we do,” he whispered into her ear as she purred and rested her chin on his shoulder, even though she had to stand on her tiptoes to do so.

    She wasn’t bothered by what they had done. She wasn’t putting up a front. She was honest in what she wanted - which was him.

    And he wanted her.

    “I love you,” he whispered, then bit her ear - lightly.

    She growled in response and started to drag him towards their room.

    And then there was no more time to fret about the future or ponder the past.

    *****​

    Hermione Granger was tired. Not quite exhausted, but if she had to work any more magic, she’d need a Pepper-Up Potion first, or she’d risk making mistakes. But to rest inside the cavern, with a horde of Inferi so close… She remembered how Kraft and Kohlmeier had died, both having been devoured, and shuddered. They still had to permanently disable the Wings of Justice. The spells used to freeze them wouldn’t last forever, even though they had recast them a few times already.

    “Are you alright?” Harry asked. “You had to bind him - you know what he would have done otherwise. What he wanted us to do for him.”

    She smiled at him. “I know. It’s not that.” Though that she had had to work more blood magic bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Or rather, that it had been so easy bothered her. She sighed, and he stepped closer, his arms wrapping her in an embrace. She put one hand on his, leaning her cheek against his arm. “It has just been a rather stressful day.” So much blood, death and betrayal.

    “But it’s over now,” he said. “We won.”

    “We won, but it’s not over. There’s the Ottoman bounty to deal with. The ICW to inform. Our families to contact…”

    “Shhh.” He kissed her neck. “We’ll be fine. We are fine now.”

    She didn’t think they were fine - she knew she wasn’t fine. Not yet.

    But she would be, she knew. Sighing once more, but contentedly this time, she leaned into Harry, enjoying his closeness, the warmth of his body, for a long moment.

    They had survived. They were alright. They had discovered Atlantis.

    Yes, she - they - would be fine.

    She still needed to rest, though. And so did Harry. Fortunately, their room in the Range Rover had a very comfortable bed.

    *****​

    Caribbean Sea, Puerto Rico Trench,
    December 19th, 2001

    Hermione Granger was torn when she sat down for breakfast at the kitchen table in their Range Rover. On the one hand, they had planned for a short rest yesterday before resuming work - not to spend the entire night. She didn’t like it when things didn’t go as planned for completely avoidable reasons. On the other hand, the reason they had spent the night in the bedroom had most certainly been very enjoyable, and she couldn’t help smiling as she flicked her wand and started to prepare breakfast.

    By the time Harry arrived, tea and toast were ready. “The eggs, bacon and sausages will take another minute or two,” she told him as she was buttering her toast.

    Harry bent down to kiss her, then sat down next to her. “Thanks.”

    Ari was next, nostrils flaring as she eyed the frying meat. “Good morning,” she said, as though it were an afterthought, without taking her eyes off the meat.

    “Morning, everyone.” Ron entered, yawning, and sat down to fill his cup. “Thanks for making breakfast, Hermione.”

    “Wait!” Hermione snapped when Ari made to grab the pans. A quick Doubling Charm later, there was enough food for the witch and the rest of their group. Hermione still hadn’t determined how exactly Ari’s body handled food when she changed, but the other witch certainly ate more, and more meat, than herself.

    Ari growled a little, then grabbed her portion of the meal while Hermione floated the other pans over to Harry and Ron. She wanted to talk about the tasks they had to accomplish but refrained from doing so while everyone was eating.

    They weren’t pressed for time, after all. Not any more. Even though she really wanted to start planning right away.

    Half an hour later, they were floating above the port area, preparing to recover the sphere. “It doesn’t look like there are any Inferi in the water,” Harry reported. “We can see the bottom.”

    “They might jump in, though, once we approach the sphere,” Ron commented, pointing at the vessel floating in the water.

    Indeed, the Inferi were already gathering at the pier. “Inferi usually cannot swim,” Hermione replied. “But Kohlmeier might have granted that ability to his creations as well.” He had been a very competent wizard, after all. A dark wizard, a blood mage and a war criminal - but a very skilled wizard.

    “Let’s test it. Blow some into the water,” Ari said.

    “Alright,” Harry replied. He swished his wand, and a Blasting Curse hit the middle of the closest pack of zombies.

    Two of them landed in the water and sank to the bottom. They were still moving, but sluggishly. And they looked disoriented - though that might be her own bias speaking, Hermione reminded herself.

    “So, they can’t swim,” Ari said, “but they can walk on the seabed.”

    “Recovering the sphere should be safe enough, then,” Ron chimed in. “Apart from all the traps and curses Kohlmeier will have left inside.” If there were just half as many as the number of the curses on the man’s robes and pockets, it would take them a while.

    “Which might include Inferi,” Hermione pointed out. “We don’t know if he brought some with him when he arrived, or if he managed to lure some of them into the sphere when he prepared his trap.” She didn’t think the man had done so, nor had he had much time for elaborate traps after he had hid from them, but as a Curse-Breaker, you had to expect the worst every time you worked.

    So they approached - on brooms - very slowly and carefully. There were no curses, traps or ambushes in the water - at least none that Harry’s conjured sea snakes or their detection spells could discover. But the sphere itself had a few curses on it - curses that she hadn’t seen before, but which she recognised as blood curses.

    “Dealing with them will take a while,” she told the others.

    “We can start on the jinxes on the cavern, then,” Harry replied. “Ari can keep an eye out for Inferi.”

    Ari nodded, though she didn’t seem too happy about it, Hermione noted. But this wasn’t the time to ask if anything was bothering the other witch. She took a deep breath, shifted on the floating platform she had conjured, and started dismantling the curses Kohlmeier had left.

    *****​

    Harry Potter was the first to enter the sphere, followed by Ron and Ari. Hermione had done an admirable job on the curses, but there might be Inferi lying in ambush inside, and Harry and Ron were quicker on the draw than she was, and Ari’s nose was hard to fool. Not to mention that she could literally jump out of the sphere in a second as a jaguar.

    But there were no Inferi inside. Not much else, either - Kohlmeier’s wands must have looted the sphere upon arrival. Or vanished everything. Fortunately, Harry and his friends hadn’t left anything irreplaceable there. Still… “That was rather petty,” he commented, looking at where the seats on the bridge had been.

    “Or greedy - souvenirs from this expedition will fetch a nice price,” Ron joked. “But at least it means checking for curses will be easier. Less clutter to go through.”

    He had a point - although Harry had yet to detect any curses within the sphere. Nor poison gas or other traps. Of course, Kohlmeier wouldn’t have had much time to spend on spell-casting. Still, they would have to search the entire vessel very carefully. Which would take more time.

    But as long as the jinxes remained, no one else could enter the cavern - just in case Kohlmeier had sent a Storm Wizard back to where he had come from before sealing the cavern. And should someone enter after they had left… well, there were still hundreds of Inferi around.

    *****​

    An hour later, they hadn’t found any traps or curses inside the sphere. “It looks like Kohlmeier planned, originally, to use the vessel himself,” Harry Potter said, looking around.

    “Removing the seats doesn’t help with that,” Ari pointed out.

    “Well, he might have thought that we’d set traps and curses ourselves,” Ron replied. “And he probably didn’t trust Kraft to find them all, so removing the furniture would’ve appeared to make more sense.”

    “Probably,” Harry said. “It doesn’t matter any more. Let’s go back.”

    “Are you done?” Hermione, who was keeping watch outside, sitting on the Range Rover, asked as soon as Harry climbed out of the sphere.

    “Yes. It’s safe,” he told her, joining her on the car with a short jump. “We can pack it up.”

    “Good. We’ve been underwater for a long time,” she said. “And the Inferi’s growling is getting annoying.”

    As soon as Ari and Ron left the sphere, Hermione shrank it and levitated it into the car’s trunk.

    Harry took a last look at the Inferi lining the pier, then climbed down into the car through the hatch on top.

    “To the top of the temple?” Ron asked from behind the wheel.

    “Yes,” Harry replied. It was the safest spot in the cavern - the best place to travel to and from by Portkey or Apparition. Not that the latter would work for anyone - they left the Anti-Apparition Jinxes in place in case Kohlmeier hadn’t taken the time to create a Portkey. If he had sent Storm Wizards back at all, of course. They should have asked Mallory’s ghost about it before sealing him up, but he had been under the Imperius Curse. And he couldn’t be trusted anyway.

    “I’m going to tell Cenkora that we’re going away, but will return,” Hermione said, straddling her broom. “I don’t want him to think we’re abandoning him.”

    “What about Ophas?” Ron asked.

    “He’s still staring at the mindless ghosts,” Hermione replied. “He didn’t respond when I tried talking to him.”

    “I’ll come with you to the temple,” Ari said. “Keep an eye out for zombies.”

    “Thank you.”

    They two witches flew towards the temple. Harry sighed as soon as they disappeared from sight.

    “They’ll be fine,” Ron said. “Let’s check on the Wings of Justice, then shrink the Range Rover. I think the cube will last, but the things might be able to dig their way out.”

    “Yes.” Harry had thought he had managed to keep his worrying about Hermione - and Ari - from showing, but he must have been wrong. “Let’s.”

    A quick flight to the conjured cube of now solid cement and back later, Harry stuffed the shrunken car into his pocket.

    Ron was staring at the buildings below them. “I still can’t really believe we did it, you know? Discovered Atlantis. Every Curse-Breaker’s dream.”

    “Well, not everyone,” Harry replied. “There’s not enough treasure for some.”

    Ron snorted. “Oh, yes! Though there might be more treasure in the rest of the cavern. But the fame and the knowledge…” He shook his head. “Although… have you thought about what we’ll do after this?”

    “Exploring the cavern for a while?” Harry replied. It wasn’t as if Hermione would miss out on the find of the century.

    “Well, yes, but after that?” Ron looked at him. “Back to Egypt?”

    Well, it was a living, of course. But compared to discovering Atlantis, it felt a little underwhelming. Harry shrugged. “Perhaps. We don’t have to decide today.”

    “So you don’t know either,” Ron said, smirking.

    Harry scoffed at his friend. “I’ll start worrying once we have secured our claims and the cavern.”

    Which would take a while.

    *****​

    Virgin Islands, Tortola, December 19th, 2001

    The Portkey dropped them in the small clearing that they had picked out before setting off in their rented yacht. They arrived with Shield Charms up and wands in hand, and Harry Potter jumped up as soon as he had stopped rolling along the ground, looking for threats.

    There weren’t any. No curses shooting towards them, nothing within range of his Human-presence-revealing Spell. No snakes to ask either, alas.

    “I don’t smell anyone near us,” Ari announced a moment later.

    “We’re in the clear, then,” Ron said.

    “For now,” Hermione pointed out. “We’ve been out of contact with the magical and muggle worlds for an entire week.”

    “Yes. We need to be cautious,” Harry agreed. Who knew what Mallory had gotten up to while they had been on the Virgin Islands? Or what Kraft had done with the information Mallory had given her before she’d arrived in Atlantis? “We’ll…”

    Something flew above them. Towards them. “Watch out!” he yelled, wand raising to meet the… “Hedwig!” It was his owl! He beamed at her as she landed on his left arm, claws gently closing around his wrist. “You’ve been waiting for us, haven’t you?” She was the best owl a wizard could have!

    He ignored Ari’s muttered comment about birds and eating and checked her leg. “She’s got a letter for us!”

    “But she might have been tracked,” Hermione pointed out. “We need to move.”

    “Apparate to the alternate site?” Ron asked.

    “Yes.” Harry nodded. Flying would take too long. “Hold on tight, Hedwig!” he told her, then focused on the clearing on Beef Island. The usual sensation of being forced through a rubber pipe later, he appeared in another, smaller clearing - and checked for enemies again. It was the ambush you didn’t expect that killed you, after all.

    “Clear,” he announced a moment later.

    “Let’s take the Range Rover and fly out over the sea,” Ron said. “We’ll be safer that way.”

    “As long as we stay away from the airport, and don’t hover too high,” Hermione added.

    “Of course,” Ron agreed. “I wasn’t planning to park above the runway.”

    “Let’s go,” Harry cut in, pulling the car out of his pocket. “I want to read our mail. And Hedwig needs her reward!”

    His clever owl barked her agreement.

    *****​

    Virgin Islands, East of Beef Island, December 19th, 2001

    ...so it seems someone found out that you rented a yacht on the Virgin Islands, Harry. When the yacht was found, it made the news. I’ve sent you a few of the newspapers covering the story.

    That would also explain why we haven’t seen any sign of the Storm Wizards for a few days - they must have realised - or been told - where you are. Though given the usual trustworthiness of wizarding newspapers, it seems suspicious that they would stop their pursuit of us after reading the Daily Prophet. There might be a leak - or a traitor.

    Auntie was correct - there had indeed been a traitor. But her letter hadn’t reached them in time. Harry clenched his teeth. If they had surfaced, even if only for an hour, every day during their search of the Puerto Rico Trench, perhaps Mallory wouldn’t have been able to fool them till the end… He shook his head. There was no point in fretting about what might have been.

    I know leaving the yacht drifting was part of your plan, but I cannot help but worry...

    He pressed his lips together as guilt welled up inside him. Auntie, Sirius and the others were worried about them. They must have feared the worst after the newspaper articles appeared and pointed towards a leak or a traitor. Harry needed to write back to them as soon as possible, to reassure them that everything was well. Well, mostly well.

    “‘Have the Boy-Who-Lived and his intrepid friends fallen victim to the infamous curse of the Bermuda Triangle? The yacht they allegedly rented has been found drifting in the Caribbean Sea, with no sign of the occupants.’” Ron scoffed and put the Daily Prophet he had been reading down on the dinner table. “Since when is a muggle legend an ‘infamous curse’?”

    “It’s the Prophet, what did you expect?” Hermione sniffed. “For all their bigotry and ignorance, they won’t hesitate to cite muggle sources, no matter how untrustworthy, if it means a more sensational story. I’m more concerned about the reports of bounty hunters in the Caribbean. If a large number of them correctly suspect our location, we’ll have trouble getting off the islands in a plane.”

    “We can use the car,” Ari said. “Head to another island.” She shrugged “I don’t see the problem.”

    “Smart bounty hunters might have placed or paid people to watch out for us on the neighbouring islands - both in the muggle and the magical world,” Hermione replied.

    “So we travel further.” Ari shrugged.

    Harry saw Hermione frown at that. “That’ll take a long time,” she said. “And where do we go from here? We need an island with an international airport. And of those, the ones controlled by Americans will still be on alert.”

    “We could disguise ourselves,” Ron said. “A bit more than usual, I mean. Pick a family of four who are on a day trip on the island and use Polyjuice Potion to impersonate them while we take an aeroplane.”

    “They’ll charge us with muggle-baiting and endangering the Statute of Secrecy,” Hermione retorted.

    “They won’t have proof,” Ron pointed out.

    “They’ll suspect, though.” Harry cut in. “Which will be enough to cause us trouble. Especially with both Mallory and Kraft dead.”

    “They were thieves and traitors. And a blood mage,” Ari said.

    “And we only have our word for that,” Harry replied. “Captain Ryan, Captain Neva, Mr Sayadi and Mallory - a lot of people we hired or worked with have died in the last few months. That won’t look good to someone who doesn’t know the whole story.”

    “Blimey. At least Mum knows the truth,” Ron muttered.

    “Skeeter will love it. I can just see the headline: Kraft Killed?” Hermione shook her head. “We really need to contact Dumbledore quickly, before the rumours grow even worse. What if Kraft left a note with someone, claiming she was following us?”

    That would fit the despicable witch’s character. But it sounded a little too smart for Kraft, in Harry’s opinion. “I don’t think she ever expected to fail.”

    “Stupid.” Ari scoffed.

    “Yes. But we still need a safe and fast way to get to Dumbledore,” Harry said. Just flying across the Caribbean in their Range Rover would be safe, but not very fast. “And we have to assume that Mallory told Kraft all the tricks he saw us use, and that she passed them on to the bounty hunters.” Which excluded sending themselves by owl post or as muggle cargo.

    “Bloody hell!” Ron cursed. “I didn’t think of that.”

    “It’s not certain,” Harry admitted, “but we cannot count on our old tricks working again.” He looked at the others. “So, any ideas?”

    *****​

    Atlantic Ocean, December 20th, 2001

    Ron Weasley stifled a yawn. The third time in as many minutes. Flying across the Atlantic might have been the safest course of action for them, but it was also terribly boring. And staring at the empty sea and the empty sky wasn’t conducive to keeping alert, rough weather or not. Especially in the middle of the night. Of course, he knew better than to assume that they actually were safe - that kind of thinking got Curse-Breakers killed - but it was a little harder to stay alert in the middle of the ocean, high enough in the air to pass over any ship, but low enough not to be in danger of crashing into a plane. At the speed they were travelling, they would take about three days to reach London.

    “Do you want to take a break?” Harry asked as he slid into the passenger’s seat. The shotgun, as Dad had explained it was called in America.

    “I’m fine,” Ron replied. “No need to cut my shift short.” He eyed Harry. “It’s you who should be resting.” Especially after dealing with the curses on Kohlmeier’s pockets. To think the man had carried all the relics stolen in Constantinople on him… Kraft and Mallory’s robes had been a bust, though. And they didn’t even know if all the hairs they had found belonged to them - Kohlmeier had labelled his vials in code.

    His friend frowned. “I couldn’t sleep.”

    Ron raised his eyebrows at him. “You’re waiting for Hedwig to return. Even though she has to visit both our families and Dumbledore.”

    Harry’s frown grew more pronounced. “She’s clever. If there’s an urgent message for us, she’ll bring it to us, first.”

    “And she might lead others to us,” he said.

    “She’ll only make the trip if it’s worth the risk,” Harry retorted.

    Ron didn’t quite share Harry’s rather gushing opinion of Hedwig. The owl was smart - for a post owl. And she had an uncanny knack for appearing out of the blue. But she was still an owl. On the other hand, she was damn fast - anyone tracking her would have a hard time keeping up. “I’ll call you if she shows up,” he said. “Go back to bed.” Harry didn’t show any sign of doing so, so Ron added: “Hermione won’t be happy if she wakes up and finds you here.”

    That did the job. Groaning, Harry got up. After a glare at Ron, he disappeared into the back of the Range Rover.

    Ron shook his head. There wouldn’t be a bounty hunter attack in the middle of the ocean. Not with the kind of weather they were having. Any pursuit would need an enchanted vehicle like theirs to make such a trip - and those were not common, and generally not quick enough to catch up to them or Hedwig. And even if they somehow managed to catch them on brooms, they’d be too beaten and tired to be a threat.

    Probably. Of course, there were tales about flying ships, and, theoretically, a wizard could enchant an aeroplane. But Ron hadn’t heard anything about a bounty hunter using such vehicles, and such news would spread quickly.

    Which, of course, meant that staying awake was a little harder than usual. Well, it wouldn’t be too long until he would be relieved, and they wouldn’t take too long to reach England anyway. Far longer than taking a muggle plane, but faster than a muggle ship.

    Provided the storm didn’t blow them off-course, he added to himself when he saw the first flashes of lightning on the horizon. He sat straighter in his seat. This could be a little tricky, indeed.

    *****​

    London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 23rd, 2001

    “Hello?” Ron Weasley yelled as soon as they entered the kitchen of Grimmauld Place through the back door. “Anyone home?”

    “Ron!”

    That was Mum.

    “Ron!”

    His mum burst into the kitchen, pulling him into a hug.

    “Ron! I was so worried! We didn’t hear from you for days! And the news…”

    She was crying, and he winced. “We sent you a letter as soon as we could,” he defended himself.

    “Yes,” Ari supported him.

    “Ari!” Mum released Ron - no, she just wrapped one arm around Ari and pulled her into her embrace as well.

    He could see Hermione take a step back. Harry was still outside - ‘looking for snakes’, even though all his snakes would either be in hibernation or inside the house in the cellar he had prepared for them. “We’re all fine,” Hermione said.

    “Your letter mentioned fighting! Storm Wizards! Inferi! A dragon!”

    “Yes,” Ari cut in. “And we killed them all!” she added with a fierce grin.

    That, of course, made Mum hug them even harder and cry more.

    “Ron?”

    He blinked. “Ginny?” He managed not to blurt out ‘you’re here?’

    “We returned for the holidays,” she told him.

    “And because we kept having trouble with bounty hunters,” Luna, half a step behind Ginny, added. “Though, to be fair, they kept having trouble with the Skinwalkers we were studying, so in a way, it sort of evened out.”

    “You found Skinwalkers, then, as you hoped?” Hermione asked.

    “We did,” Luna replied. “Didn’t I just say that?”

    “If everyone’s here…” Ron trailed off. Hadn’t his family been looking for a place of their own when Ron and his friends had left for Atlantis?

    “With all the attention from the newspapers and bounty hunters, this was the safest place,” Ginny explained.

    “I didn’t want to come,” Mum said, releasing him and Ari, “but it is the safest house we know.” She promptly turned to hug Hermione.

    “Hogwarts would be safer, but it’s a school, not a home,” Luna said.

    “So we’re celebrating Christmas here?” Ron asked.

    “Yes,” Mum answered. “Everyone’s coming. Well, everyone but Bill, Fleur, Petunia and Sirius.”

    “They’re not coming?” Ron was surprised.

    “Last we knew, they were still being chased by Storm Wizards.”

    Harry entered and got hugged before he could say more than ‘Hello’, and by the time he had been filled in, everyone was in the living room.

    “...and we wanted to take a Skinwalker with us, but the most recent bounty hunter spooked them.” Luna pouted. “They thought the bounty hunters were after them, you know?”

    Given what Ron knew about Skinwalkers and their hunting habits, that was to be expected, in his opinion. “Ah,” he said, nodding. If only his little sister wouldn’t take so many risks! But trying to tell her to play it safe would only make her take more risks. Not that he had much of a right to complain as a Curse-Breaker, of course.

    “So, you found Atlantis?” Ginny asked.

    “Yes,” Harry replied.

    “Well, part of it - we found a cavern with the island’s main temple which had been protected during the sinking of Atlantis,” Hermione elaborated. “Although the population didn’t survive.”

    “Oh… so, they weren’t living under the sea, having adapted to breathing water?” Luna asked with a pout.

    “That theory has been disproved,” Hermione replied.

    “Are you sure?” Luna wrinkled her forehead. “You found one cavern, but there could be more, and in one, Atlanteans could have survived!”

    Ron winced, knowing what was coming.

    “Yes, I’m sure,” Hermione said. “The Atlanteans weren’t killed when their island sunk, but before, when the souls and spirits of their victims used the power of their last ‘Grand Sacrifice’ to kill them all.”

    “Blood magic?” Ginny asked.

    “Yes,” Harry cut in. “We found the bodies left by the ritual.”

    “Merlin’s beard!” Mum exclaimed. “That must have been horrible.”

    “Not until the Storm Wizards did another blood ritual and turned all of them into Inferi,” Ari said. “Including a dead dragon Kohlmeier had brought with him.”

    “Just how many Inferi were there?” Mum asked, narrowing her eyes.

    Ron winced again. Perhaps they should have been a little less vague in their letters.

    *****​

    London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 24th, 2001

    For a Christmas Eve at Grimmauld Place, it was a very Weasley event. Not that Hermione Granger minded that, of course - the Weasleys were very good friends. Practically family. Still, it felt a little weird to celebrate Christmas here with them without Petunia and Sirius being present. While it was her home, as she had been repeatedly told by everyone else living here since she had moved in after Hogwarts, the two older tomb raiders were part of what made it home.

    Although, she added to herself as she watched Ginny, currently covered in fluffy red fur with matching tail and ears, chase the twins, her wand spitting hexes and jinxes, the Weasleys certainly could provide an equally lively celebration.

    “It was our gift to Luna, Gin-gin! We know how much she likes anim-OW!”

    “I’ll show you an animal!”

    “No! Flobby needs his sleep or he gets cranky!”

    “George! Fred! Ginny! Stop that at once!”

    Perhaps even more lively, she amended her thoughts - Sirius knew better than to go so far, after all. And Petunia certainly was a better influence on him than Alicia and Angelina were on the twins.

    But it was safe. Endearing. Home. Sitting on her favourite couch, she leaned into Harry’s side and sighed contentedly. No one was trying to kill them. No horde of Inferi was gathering outside the wardline.

    “Look, Charlie, I didn’t exactly stop and count the ridges on the horns, alright? Not before it got its head blown off. So I can’t tell you the exact kind of breed, just that it looked like a Horntail. A rotting, dead Horntail.” And the visiting dragon handler wasn’t bothering her or Harry with questions that made her remember that awful fight. That had to have been Molly’s doing - she had taken Charlie aside as soon as he had arrived earlier today. Apparently, Ron wasn’t covered, though. And Ari liked telling the tale.

    Well, to each their own. She tried not to think of the fact that her parents were still away from England, in hiding because of the bounty hunters after her. They would have spent the next day at the Grangers’, otherwise.

    A soft chime alerted them to a new arrival in the entrance hall. “I’ll be right back!” Harry said, standing up so quickly, she was jolted aside. Crookshanks, who had been napping on her lap, made his displeasure known with a loud yowl.

    “Sorry!” Harry yelled.

    She smiled. “It’s OK.” He knew that it would be Arthur and Percy - they would have finished working by now - but Petunia and the others might be coming back as well, now that they knew about Kohlmeier’s death.

    He nodded and left the living room. A minute later, he returned, Arthur and Percy in tow. Which meant Molly would finish dinner soon, now that everyone who had been expected had arrived.

    And, Hermione knew from long experience, Ron’s mum was certainly a much better cook than anyone else in the house. Which included Kreacher.

    *****​

    “...and the Aurors still haven’t ascertained who supplied the information to the bounty hunters who attacked The Burrow.” Percy shook his head as he picked up his glass. “Of course, Humphrey Kettlebrook’s surprising decision to quit his position at the Floo Network Authority and emigrate to the New World makes him the main suspect. Though without him or his financial records to prove it...”

    Hermione Granger nodded. And without the wizard, any proof would be useless anyway - for legal purposes.

    “Let’s put a price on his head! See how he likes having bounty hunters chase him!” Ari said with a pronounced growl while she had thirds of Molly’s excellent roast.

    “That would make us more than a little hypocritical,” Hermione pointed out, “after everything we tried to stop the bounty hunters coming after us.”

    “I can live with that,” Ron said, with a shrug and a wide grin.

    She pursed her lips and glanced at Harry. It would be his money, or Sirius’s, after all.

    Harry spread his hands. “Let’s put that on the back burner for now. We’ve got more urgent things to do.”

    “Such as securing our claim to the Atlantis site, of course,” Hermione added.

    “The ICW won’t be in session over the holidays,” Percy said. “Granted, your discovery is so important, they probably would hold a special session - but it would take time to convince enough members, even for Dumbledore.”

    And probably some political capital or favours as well, Hermione knew. Both of which would be better spent on the actual issue: Who would control Atlantis’s remains? Of course, it had been a British expedition which discovered the site, but there were geographical and historical claims to the island as well, which would be made no matter how flimsy. “I think we can wait a few more days,” she said, even though she didn’t want to. “It’s Christmas, after all.”

    “Yes,” Molly agreed. “There’s no need to talk about such things when we should be celebrating!”

    “When we should be eating pudding!” Luna added with a wide smile. “Flobby hasn’t tasted treacle tart before, and I’m sure he’ll love it!”

    “‘Flobby’?” Percy asked.

    “The Feathered Manta Ray we found in California!” Luna announced. “He’s still a baby - his wingspan’s barely three yards.”

    “Indeed,” her father said with a proud smile, “Adult Feathered Manta Rays have an average wingspan of ten yards. It’ll all be in the holiday issue of The Quibbler!”

    Three yards, as everyone found out as soon as Luna opened her enchanted bag, was quite large already. Especially inside the house.

    *****​

    London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 25th, 2001

    “Auntie! Sirius!” Harry Potter rushed to hug them both, heedless of their soot-covered robes. “You made it!”

    “Of course we did!” Sirius beamed. “Wouldn’t miss Christmas with you, would we?”

    Of course they would, Harry knew - if they thought it would keep him and his friends safe. But they were here.

    “We got your letter, which explained the absence of Storm Wizards,” Auntie said, patting his back. “So we packed up and returned to Britain.”

    “Via France,” Sirius explained. “Bill and Fleur are staying with the Delacours, but they’ll visit tomorrow.”

    “Remus is at Hogwarts,” Harry told him after he had let them go.

    His godfather frowned. “I’ll fetch him later. He should know better.”

    “He said he had to supervise the students staying at school over the holidays,” Harry said. Both of them knew, though, that that was just an excuse - Remus still felt like a guest at Grimmauld Place.

    “I’ll sort him out.” Sirius snorted. “Now, tell me all about your discovery!”

    Harry didn’t wince. He might have been a little economical with the details in his letter, but they would expect that. And understand. He hoped. “That’ll take a while. Let’s sit down!”

    *****​

    “...and then we decided to fly back to England,” Harry Potter said before taking a sip from his drink.

    Auntie and Sirius looked, well, serious now.

    “It was the safest course of action,” Hermione added.

    “For a change,” Auntie remarked dryly. Very dryly.

    She wouldn’t appreciate quotes from Bill about danger being part of the job, as Harry knew very well. He shrugged. “We didn’t exactly have many alternatives to fighting.”

    “And we won!” Ari added with a smile.

    “And we wouldn’t have had to fight at all if Mr Mallory hadn’t been a traitor,” Hermione pointed out.

    “I think Albus needs a reminder that people change as they grow older,” Auntie said with an angry twist to her lips. “He can’t keep judging them according to how they acted as kids.”

    “We should have been a little more suspicious,” Harry admitted. “But Mallory was smart about it.”

    “And he was betrayed as well,” Ron said. “It worked out in the end.”

    “This time,” Auntie said.

    Harry nodded, suppressing a wince. “Anyway,” he said, “now all we need is Dumbledore to sort out the official stuff about our discovery.”

    “And to deal with the Inferi,” Hermione added. “We’ve got a few ideas, but they’ll take quite some time to implement, and we hope he has a better solution for that problem.”

    “He better have.” Judging by Auntie ‘s expression, that would be the least the Headmaster could do to make up for referring them to Mallory.

    *****​

    London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 26th, 2001

    “...and then we flew back to England in our Range Rover.”

    Ron Weasley nodded as Harry finished. That had been the third time in three days he had heard Harry tell their story, but that couldn’t be helped - and they would have to tell the story a lot more often once they went public with their discovery. Perhaps he wouldn’t remember the battles so intensely by then. He hoped so, at least.

    “My apologies, Harry. Miss Granger. Mr Weasley. Miss Ari.” Dumbledore sighed. “Once more, it seems, my own mistakes have endangered you and yours.”

    “Yes,” Petunia said, glaring at the Headmaster. “I told you before that people change as they grow older!”

    “Yes, you did.” Dumbledore sighed again. “To think Matthias would stoop to using blood magic… Fighting fire with fire usually leaves you burned. I thought he would be smarter than that.”

    Ron managed not to grimace - they hadn’t gone into details about their own use of blood magic, but the Headmaster would have guessed anyway.

    “There are different…” Hermione started, but a nudge from Harry shut her up. This wasn’t the time to discuss the finer points of sacrificial magic and self-sacrificial magic.

    “So, how do you think the ICW will handle our discovery?” Harry said.

    Dumbledore took a deep breath, one hand brushing his beard. “It’s quite the conundrum. The bottom of the Puerto Rico Trench is effectively terra nullius - unclaimed land. Puerto Rico will probably contest this, claiming it’s part of their territorial waters - Don Carlos is remarkably flexible when it comes to using muggle concepts as long as it benefits his country - even though they have no realistic means of actually taking control of the area unless you help them. Still, he might get support from other Caribbean nations in exchange for concessions. Then there’s the British claim - your group could be seen as a British expedition; therefore, our country could lay claim to the ruins of Atlantis, at least the habitable parts of it. However, Miss Ari and Matthias’s involvement might lead to others contesting this. Magical Brazil might put forth that Ari is a citizen.”

    Ari scoffed. “My tribe does not belong to any country!” With a sneer, she added: “And I was disowned anyway when we made the discovery.”

    “And Mallory betrayed us,” Ron pointed out.

    “That will be contested as well,” Dumbledore replied. “With only your testimony for his crimes, Florida might argue that it wasn’t proven and therefore they have a claim as well. Even Prussia might follow that example using Miss Kraft.”

    “What?” Ron blurted out. “That’s…”

    “Stupid!” Ari snarled.

    “Politics often is stupid, my dear,” Dumbledore replied.

    “We could use your Pensieve, sir,” Harry pointed out.

    “Leaving aside the logistics of providing others access to it, I fear that they will claim that Miss Kraft and Matthias were under the Imperius Curse.” He sighed. “I foresee a lively session once your discovery is announced.” He cleared his throat. “However, I think we should deal with the Inferi before that. Their presence might mean, at least technically, that the cavern could be judged as a danger to the neighbouring nations requiring an international intervention - with the subsequent control of the area by the forces involved.” He smiled. “Of course, I’m also looking forward to visiting the ruins before they become the subject of international politics.”

    A sentiment, Ron realised as he looked around and saw the expression of everyone present, shared by the others. Even Mum seemed interested. The twins looked ready to go right now, and Luna and Ginny…

    Well, no better time for a family trip than the holidays, right?

    *****​
     
    Last edited: May 26, 2019
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  2. Threadmarks: Chapter 31: The Return
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Chapter 31: The Return

    ‘There are few adventurers braver than the tomb raiders working in the Valley of the Kings. Armed only with their wands and wits, they face millennia-old curses and traps, prepared by the most skilful wizards of Ancient Egypt, as they descend into graves filled with danger and treasure. But it’s not the lure of gold that drives them to face such threats, for a skilled Curse-Breaker could make a small fortune providing homes and offices with strong protections. Nor is it the wish to uncover ancient magic, lost to time in the centuries since Ancient Egypt fell to the Romans, before some ignoble grave-robber pilfers it, as they did for centuries before Gringotts took control of the Valley of the Kings.
    No, what drives a Curse-Breaker to enter tombs is the desire to prove themselves. To know that it is only their skill and knowledge keeping them alive as they face ancient terrors… Not much can equal the satisfaction derived from a curse broken, a trap circumvented and an undead guardian slain at your hand. To triumph where so many have failed before, to stand where no one living has stood in millennia - this is what drives the tomb raiders in the Valley of the Kings. The challenge, not the lucre.
    I know this very well, for I have been one of them. I’ve crossed wands with bandits and set ancient mummies on fire. I’ve seen fellow Curse-Breakers die screaming to dark curses thought lost to time and plucky squibs dodging age-old traps despite their lack of magic. I’ve gazed upon more gold and jewels than found in the vaults of the wealthiest families at Gringotts, and I’ve seen entire tombs looted by robbers, all the lore and history of an ancient culture destroyed for mere money.
    In my years in Egypt, I’ve had many adventures - in tombs as well as in the harems and bazaars of the Orient. Too many to tell them all, but the most interesting ones you shall find detailed in the following pages. May they serve as inspiration to budding Curse-Breakers.’
    - Excerpt from ‘Matching Wits with Mummies - Adventures in the Valley of the Kings’ by Gilderoy Lockhart, London, 1988


    *****​

    Atlantic Ocean, December 27th, 2001

    Ron Weasley was, once again, steering the Range Rover through the night over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. A rather crowded car this time, though - and that was with Mum and Dad, as well as Bill and Fleur, travelling in Sirius’s car, which was following theirs.

    A rather loud car, too, he added to himself as he heard laughter and a small explosion from the back.

    “Your brothers are stupid.”

    He turned his head as Ari slid into the seat next to him, pouting.

    “The twins? Yes, they are.” He chuckled.

    She scoffed.

    “They’re family,” Ron said. He almost added ‘can’t get rid of them’, but that would have would have been hurtful - her family had disowned and banished her, after all.

    “They’re stupid family.”

    “I think everyone in my family would agree with that,” he said, laughing. “Especially Ginny and Mum.”

    She nodded. After a moment, she said: “The celebration was nice, though.”

    He nodded in agreement, then reached out to hold her hand, gently squeezing it. “You’re family too, now.”

    She didn’t say anything, but she leaned over until her head touched his shoulder.

    They remained like that for a while.

    *****​

    Atlantic Ocean, December 28th, 2001

    Hermione Granger threw a last, suspicious glance over her shoulder at the twins currently steering the Range Rover before she entered her and Harry’s room in the back. She trusted the twins not to crash and sink them - deliberately, at least. But she didn’t actually trust them to behave. But the Headmaster had asked to have a private discussion with her and her friends, actually flying over on his broom from Petunia and Sirius’s car. She didn’t think Dumbledore would have done that if it weren’t important.

    “Thank you for taking the time to discuss a few things,” the Headmaster said, smiling gently as she took her seat next to Harry at the conjured table. “I do not like interrupting a most pleasant journey, but I think it is best to do this now, before we arrive in the Caribbean and might find our time occupied with more urgent matters.”

    “Of course, sir,” Harry agreed.

    “It’s not as if we were particularly busy,” Ron added - a little too nonchalantly, in Hermione’s opinion. Ari seemed to share her view if the glare she sent Ron was anything to go by.

    “Quite. Although one should never underestimate the value of a few days spent resting without worrying.” Dumbledore sighed slightly and leaned back in his own conjured armchair - a copy of the one he had in his office. “Especially after experiences such as those you had recently.”

    “Danger’s part of a Curse-Breaker’s job.” Harry smiled as he recited his favourite quote of Bill’s.

    “But young William was talking about curses and traps, and also, perhaps, bandits. He was not talking about the dangers of using the Dark Arts,” Dumbledore replied.

    Hermione froze for a moment as her heart seemed to skip a beat. What did the Headmaster mean? Did he know what they had done?

    “We’re no dark wizards,” Ari said while Hermione - and, presumably, Harry and Ron - was still trying to come up with a reply herself.

    “No, you are not,” Dumbledore said, inclining his head. “But I dare say that you are more than merely theoretically familiar with the Dark Arts.” He chuckled, once. “All of you avoided mentioning blood magic or soul magic when you told your tales, apart from the most basic descriptions. Quite peculiar, in light of the lengths to which you went in securing my own notes on those subjects.”

    Hermione grimaced at the oversight. Of course the Headmaster would have noticed that. “We didn’t sacrifice anyone, human or creature,” she said.

    “Self-sacrificial magic is still blood magic, my dear,” Dumbledore retorted. “Not as dark, of course, but still questionable - and with good reason.”

    She tensed. “Blood is also used in potions,” she pointed out.

    “Indeed, it is.” The Headmaster nodded at her. “But even though brewing a potion is similar to a ritual, it is not quite the same.” He took a deep breath. “Now I do not think you are but one spell away from becoming blood mages, but you should not underestimate the danger of taking further steps down that particular slope.”

    “We had no choice but to use self-sacrificial magic,” she retorted. “We would have been killed otherwise when Kohlmeier attacked.” She felt Harry grab her hand and squeeze it, and took a deep breath, trying to relax a little.

    “I do not doubt that you had compelling reasons to resort to such spells,” Dumbledore said, “but as you might realise too late, that is often the case when one’s life is threatened. If that is your justification, you are merely trading one danger for another, more insidious menace.”

    There wasn’t much she could say in reply to that. He was correct, of course. But…

    “What should we do instead?” Ari asked.

    “There is almost always an alternative to using the Dark Arts. Perhaps more expensive, more prone to failure and not as quick - but also not as dangerous to yourself and your friends,” the Headmaster told her.

    Hermione clenched her teeth. Could they have found another way to convince Ophas to tell them Atlantis’s location? Perhaps. Mallory’s ghost wouldn’t have been able to blackmail them, then. But what if Kohlmeier had found the temple first? Used the opportunity for dark rituals?

    “Sometimes, the danger is too great to risk those alternatives,” Harry said, voicing her own thoughts.

    “That is true,” Dumbledore agreed. “However, it is not nearly as often the case as you might think.” He shook his head. “I do not know what exactly you did, though I believe you when you said that you stuck to sacrificing your own blood. But do not fall into the trap of considering such deeds acceptable - or even advisable. Nor of assuming that sacrificing yourself would be an acceptable price to pay as long as enough is at stake. You might find out too late that you were sorely mistaken.” He smiled, though it looked quite sad. “Believe me, there is not much more tragic than having to face a friend who has succumbed to the lure of the Dark Arts.” He nodded at them as he stood. “I shall leave you to ponder this, I think.”

    Hermione managed to return his nod as he left the room, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

    *****​

    Harry Potter slowly let out a breath as soon as Dumbledore had left. That had been… a lesson. And a warning. Several warnings, actually.

    “So… no more blood magic,” Ron said. “Got it.” He didn’t sound too torn up over it - but then, he hadn’t been the one to actually use blood magic. And he was looking at them with a slightly worried expression, Harry noted.

    “We weren’t planning to use more blood magic,” Harry pointed out. He wasn’t angry, not really, but the assumption did annoy him.

    “Unless it were the only way,” Hermione added. She sounded a lot less… confident than usual, though, as she corrected him.

    He leaned over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll have to be more creative, then.”

    “And live more dangerously,” Ron added.

    “Not more dangerously - less, according to the Headmaster.” That sounded more like Hermione’s usual corrections.

    “Yes,” Harry agreed.

    “We should ask him to teach us more spells, then,” Ari suggested.

    That was a great idea! Harry grinned as Hermione started to smile, and Ron kissed Ari. It wasn’t like Harry resented the Headmaster for telling them off for using blood magic - he hadn’t liked casting a blood curse, after all, and not just because he had to cast it on himself - but Ari’s idea offered a great way to, well, get back a little at Dumbledore, and for perfectly valid reasons.

    “Let’s ask him,” he said, smiling.

    “Yes,” Hermione added, “let’s.”

    *****​

    Virgin Islands, Tortola, December 30th, 2001

    They were approaching a clearing in the woods - not one of the ones that they had used before, but large enough for two Range Rovers - when Harry Potter heard Hermione gasp.

    “We crossed a wardline,” she said.

    “Someone warded the forest?” Ron sounded as incredulous as Harry felt.

    “My tribe did that as well,” Ari pointed out.

    Harry sincerely hoped that whoever had done this didn’t know the spells Ari’s tribe had used to control their territory.

    “We need to turn around!” Hermione said. “Whoever controls the spells will know something arrived.”

    “That’s why we need to land,” Harry told her. The Range Rover hadn’t fared well in the last clash with bounty hunters - who else would cover a forest on an island in detection spells? - and he didn’t fancy another chase through the skies.

    “Why… Ah.” Hermione nodded. “Of course.” She knew what he was planning, then.

    They still took the time to check the clearing before setting down, of course. You couldn’t reason with or frighten off traps, after all.

    But as soon as Auntie’s car touched the ground, Dumbledore was the first to leave it, looking around.

    Harry was already shrinking their own Range Rover.

    “Perhaps we should have conjured a floating platform out over the sea,” Hermione whispered next to him as she conjured swarms of bats to cover the sky.

    Perhaps they should have. But they would have been even more vulnerable if someone had attacked them there, even though the odds of an attack taking place… well, Harry wouldn’t have expected detection spells covering the forest here either, so perhaps the odds wouldn’t have been as low as he had thought.

    The twins, Angelina and Alicia spread out, covering the edges of one side of the clearing. They looked as if they knew what they were doing - but they didn’t have the experience Harry and the others had. Fortunately, Ari was there as well, sniffing the air. He trusted her.

    And he trusted Auntie and the others, of course. She was standing next to Sirius, an assault rifle ready, while Harry’s godfather shrank their car. Arthur, Molly and Xenophilius were with Ginny and Luna in the middle of the clearing, while Bill and Fleur covered the other side of the clearing.

    “Anything in the air?” Bill asked.

    “The bats haven’t found anything ye… someone’s coming!” Hermione yelled.

    “Keep an eye on the forest!” Ron yelled to the twins. “The sky might be a diversion.”

    Or a pincer attack - Harry would do that if he were on the other side. That required numbers, though - could whoever had placed the spells that detected them muster as many wands as their own group? They would soon find out, Harry guessed, raising his wand as he searched the sky for the swarms of bats pointing out an invisible presence.

    Then a very loud voice filled the clearing - and the sky, presumably. Dumbledore had cast an Amplifying Charm. “To whoever is approaching our little gathering: I am Albus Dumbledore, and I bid you welcome - provided you come in peace.”

    The Headmaster sounded jovial and was smiling widely - but Harry was certain that any bounty hunter approaching them had suffered a shock upon hearing his words.

    He kept watching the sky anyway, of course, as Hermione finished conjuring stone shelters for them. No markers appeared - but then, bounty hunters would know to stay out of the range of the Human-presence-revealing Spell.

    “They’ve stopped moving,” Hermione said, pointing at the swarms of bats indicating disillusioned people in the air.

    They could copy Kohlmeier and summon clouds of gas in the air. Inflammable gases. It wouldn’t take much to set them off, either. Although the gas had to be lighter than air, or the clouds would drift down towards the clearing.

    He glanced at Dumbledore. The old wizard was still smiling, standing in the clearing as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

    “Dumbledore?” The amplified voice from the sky sounded dubious.

    Instead of answering, Dumbledore flicked his wand, and the treeline in front of him turned into a herd of elephants. A rather large herd.

    “Shit.”

    “I take it that I have convinced you of my identity. Now, would you mind telling me whom I am addressing?” The elephants vanished again with another flick of Dumbledore’s wand. “And, perhaps, you would find it in yourself to land so we can discuss things in a more civilised fashion?”

    That was the tone Dumbledore used when addressing students who broke the rules at Hogwarts. Harry suppressed the urge to flinch out of reflex - he was very familiar with it.

    “Alright,” came the answer. A moment later, a broom rider faded into view above them and started to slowly descend to the ground.

    “Stay sharp,” Harry mumbled into his enchanted pin. “The other bounty hunters might try to use this as a distraction.”

    The bounty hunter - a wizard wearing a leather coat, buckskin, Harry thought the style was called - dismounted and approached them.

    “Good afternoon,” Dumbledore said.

    “Good afternoon.” The man studied the others on the field. Harry met his eyes.

    “Mr…?” The Headmaster cocked his head.

    “Mackenzie. Call me Mack.”

    “Mr Mackenzie.” Dumbledore nodded, still smiling politely as the other wizard frowned. “I do not think I have to ask what brought you here.”

    Mackenzie snorted. “No, you don’t.”

    “But I do have to ask you if you still intend to go through with your plans.”

    The bounty snorted again. “Facing you? I’m not stupid.” Shaking his head, he added: “We didn’t expect half an army either.”

    “But you should have expected this, Mr Mackenzie.” Dumbledore gently shook his head. “Attacking Mr Potter and his friends means attacking their friends - a group of which I am proud to be a part.”

    “It’s a legit bounty!”

    “Several countries, including my own, disagree with that claim, Mr Mackenzie. But then, if everyone agreed about such matters, there would be no need at all for bounty hunters, would there?”

    “You’re protecting them.”

    “Should it come to blows, I shall gladly lend my wand to their defence. Although I think, in this case, I would only be hastening the inevitable.” Dumbledore chuckled. “After all, we are travelling to confirm the death of Herbert Kohlmeier and two dozen of his followers at the hand of Mr Potter and his friends so they can claim the bounty.”

    Harry managed to keep his expression from revealing that he had forgotten entirely about the bounty on Kohlmeier.

    “Blimey!”

    “Bounty?”

    His friends didn’t, though.

    “Kohlmeier? They claim to have killed Kohlmeier?” Mackenzie probably tried to sound doubtful, but he seemed more nervous than before.

    “Indeed. You were unaware of the fact that Mr Kohlmeier’s Storm Wizards were the ones to actually attack the Sultan’s palace?”

    “The Ottomans denied that.”

    “They deny a lot, alas,” the Headmaster said with a shake of his head. “That does not mean they are to be trusted. Now, do you intend to continue pursuing Mr Potter and his friends? They are, in a way, colleagues of yours.”

    “Of course not. Told ya, we’re not stupid or suicidal,” Mackenzie spat.

    “Jury’s still out on that,” Harry muttered. The other wizard didn’t hear him, though.

    “Then I suggest you vacate the premises with your friends and allies,” Dumbledore said, still in a very pleasant tone as if he were talking about the weather. “Otherwise, someone might think you were still planning to attack. I would be loathe to see a fight break out over such a misunderstanding, but I would certainly end it.”

    “We’ll be gone in a minute,” Mackenzie said with a grimace.

    “Please see to it.”

    The bounty hunter mounted his broom and flew upwards - considerably faster than he had descended, Harry noted.

    “We haven’t spotted anyone in the woods,” Ron reported.

    “Nor smelled anyone,” Ari added.

    “Then it seems we are in the clear, so to speak,” Dumbledore said. “Now, shall we continue towards our destination?”

    Harry nodded. “Yes. But we should move to another location to prepare Portkeys for the return journey.” The bounty hunters might yet try to trap the clearing after they had left.

    “That’s a good idea,” Dumbledore agreed. “I do not think Mr Mackenzie would risk such an attack, but some among his fellow bounty hunters might not be as wise.”

    “But if they warded this clearing, they might have warded others as well,” Hermione pointed out.

    “In that case, I think it might be best to create a new clearing,” Dumbledore replied. “We can easily restore the trees afterwards.”

    Harry sighed. Time to get the Range Rovers out again.

    *****​

    Caribbean Sea, Puerto Rico Trench,
    December 30th, 2001

    The temple’s roof was clear of Inferi. Ron Weasley sighed with relief as he lowered his wand. Of course, he had known all along that it had been very unlikely that the zombies left in the cavern would have not only realised that they would return to the roof, but managed to scale the walls of the temple as well, but… every Curse-Breaker knew that ‘very unlikely’ didn’t mean ‘impossible’.

    Ari sniffed the air. “There are Inferi below us,” she announced.

    Bats swirled around them, then fanned out. “Nothing disillusioned near us,” Hermione said.

    “Marvellous!” Dumbledore exclaimed. “To visit Atlantis… I think every wizard who has heard the tales of this island has dreamed of such a feat at least once.”

    Was the Headmaster crying? No, he wasn’t. But his eyes were a little wet, or so it seemed to Ron.

    Harry was already on his broom, hovering in front of the gates. “Some Inferi are inside the temple, but the walls are clear,” he told them through his enchanted pin.

    “But they know we’re here,” Hermione said. “They’ll be gathering around and inside the temple.”

    “Precisely where we want them.” Dumbledore slowly walked to the edge of the temple’s roof and peered down, his wand weaving a complicated pattern. “Oh, I see. Quite impressive, indeed. His master would have been proud of this achievement. You told me about these Inferi’s resistance to fire and spells, but to see it with my own eyes...”

    Ron grimaced. Those monsters had killed two dozen people in this cavern alone. Granted, all of them had been Storm Wizards, but still…

    “Can you kill them?” Ari asked.

    Dumbledore slowly nodded. “I think so - though a test is needed, I believe. It would be quite embarrassing if we went to the trouble of gathering them all, only to discover that I overlooked a crucial issue. Potentially dangerous as well, although I think as long as we stick to the roof, we should be safe.”

    “Unless they manage to wreck the walls and cause the temple to collapse, we’re safe here,” Harry said.

    “Quite. Now let us see if my concoction will work as planned.” Dumbledore flicked his wand, then swished, and a few seconds later, a cage made of stone containing a growling zombie floated in front of him.

    Unconcerned about the Inferius trying to reach him through the bars of the cage, the Headmaster pulled out a vial from his robe, unstoppered it, then flicked his wand.

    A moment later, the creature started to smoke, though it didn’t seem to notice. Its movements grew more sluggish as well - and then, suddenly, it collapsed entirely within the cage, quickly turning to ashes.

    “It seems the Essence of Salt is working as it should,” Dumbledore commented. “A single drop put the zombie to rest. Apparently, Mr Kohlmeier did not account for Alchemy when he created these creatures. Though, to be fair, he probably never studied it - it is a somewhat esoteric art these days, and was one during his formative years as well.”

    “Is it difficult to produce such essence?” Hermione asked as Ron had known she would.

    “It is not particularly difficult, but it requires extensive knowledge and practice of Alchemy, Miss Granger.”

    Studying Alchemy just for the times they encountered Inferi in their line of work seemed excessive to Ron. He knew better than to mention it, though - Hermione looked like she’d found a new project to focus on.

    “Are there any more stragglers?” Dumbledore asked, nodding towards the horde gathering below them.

    “We’ll check the area,” Harry said, already flying towards the pier.

    Ron nodded, mounted his own broom - a Firebolt, a Christmas gift from Sirius - and started towards the buildings on the other side of the temple, followed by Ari. Between her nose and him playing bait, they quickly confirmed that there were no Inferi hiding in the buildings.

    Harry took a little longer but hadn’t found any stragglers either by the time he returned to the temple’s roof.

    “Mr Kohlmeier’s creations might be a little too good at tracking their prey. Or too single-minded,” Dumbledore commented on the results of their reconnaissance. “Let us deal with them now so we can inform the others that it is safe to use their Portkey.”

    Once more, he raised the vial and flicked his wand. This time, though, dozens of drops flew out of it, then dived towards the waiting Inferi below them.

    And the monsters started to collapse.

    “A pity,” the Headmaster commented as the first wave turned to ashes, quickly blown away by a soft wind - they still hadn’t figured out how to control that, Ron remembered.

    “Why?” Ari asked. “They are undead monsters.”

    “They were made from the bodies of the people sacrificed by the Atlanteans, or so I understand,” Dumbledore replied. “I wish we could have given them a proper burial.”

    “Oh.” Ari nodded. “I see. I’m sorry.”

    Ron didn’t comment, but he also felt guilty for not thinking of the sacrifices. First murdered for a ritual, then their bodies turned into zombies… They hadn’t deserved either. No one did.

    At least they could now rest in peace.

    *****​

    “You destroyed all the Inferi?” Luna - and Ginny - was staring at her as if she had been told that Christmas had been retroactively cancelled.

    Hermione Granger pursed her lips. “Yes, we did take great pains to wipe out the animated corpses that wanted to kill every single one of us,” she said, perhaps a bit more sharply than she had intended.

    “But,” Luna protested, shaking her head in apparent shock, “they were a new variant! Unique creatures!”

    “And with their creator dead, irreplaceable as well!” Ginny added. “We’re talking extinction here!”

    They couldn’t be serious! Hermione looked to Harry for support, but her traitorous boyfriend was showing the temple’s main room to Petunia and Sirius. “I reiterate,” she said through clenched teeth, “the Inferi wanted to kill everyone. They massacred - killed and devoured - two dozen Storm Wizards.”

    “So they expressed typical behaviour for Inferi,” Luna said, making a note. “And they were more resistant to spells than other Inferi. Were they created with dragon blood, perhaps?”

    “We don’t know,” Hermione replied. It was theoretically possible - if Kohlmeier had used the blood from the dead dragon he had animated as well… She shook her head, then frowned at the pouts of the other two witches. “Did you check the remains of the zombie dragon Kohlmeier created?”

    “You didn’t destroy them?” Luna perked up.

    “We blew it up, well, parts of it. But a lot remains,” Hermione replied, pointing towards the collapsed house where the dragon had been trapped by Harry’s foolhardy stunt.

    “Oh, let’s go! We might be able to reconstruct it!” Ginny exclaimed.

    “And we have to categorise it! Inferius Draconicus Kohlmeierensis, perhaps?” Luna said.

    “We should work in the dragon’s species as well,” Ginny replied.

    “Yes!”

    A moment later, the two were on their brooms and racing towards the dead dragon’s remains.

    “Ginny! Luna! Where are you going?” Hermione heard Molly yell. “Arthur!”

    She sighed as she shook her head. Perhaps they shouldn’t have brought quite so many people with them.

    “Atlantis! I still cannot believe we’re in the heart of Atlantis!” Luna’s father muttered as he walked past her, head craned back as he studied the dome above them. “My readers won’t believe it either!”

    Well, some would, Hermione thought. And once the ICW confirmed their claim, many would want to read Xenophilius’ articles. She smiled as she walked over to Harry and his family.

    “...and that’s the central rune. All the protection spells are tied to it,” Harry said, pointing up at the dome.

    “It needs to be protected, then,” Petunia said. “One wrong spell or careless experiment - or an Imperiused saboteur - and the cavern could be gone.”

    It would take a little more than one spell, in Hermione’s opinion, but Petunia was correct.

    “We could put up a copy to cover the real one,” Harry said.

    “You really did it, you know?” Sirius said with a wide grin. “This is the discovery of the century! Atlantis!”

    “Island of the blood mages,” Harry added in not quite as reverent tone.

    “That might not sit well with a few people,” Sirius replied. “Especially those who think the Atlanteans taught our ancestors magic.”

    “I think that that theory has been disproven by our discoveries so far - the Atlanteans used blood magic for all their important rituals. While both Greek and Egyptian wizards used sacrificial magic as well, neither came close to the Atlanteans in that area; it remained reserved for special occasions,” Hermione said.

    “A sound deduction,” Petunia agreed. “Which means it’ll take ten or twenty years for people to accept it.”

    That was disheartening. Almost as disheartening as not being able to publish their discovery in the muggle world. Hermione sighed. Perhaps they might find some non-magical ruins of Atlantis on the bottom of the Puerto Rico Trench as well.

    “We weren’t created by Atlanteans as a slave race!”

    Fleur was halfway to completing her transformation, Hermione noticed - and glaring at Ari and Cenkora.

    “Denial won’t change the facts,” Ari retorted, equally loudly. “Cenkora knows better than you what the Atlanteans did and didn’t do!”

    “Those were ’arpies that ’e’s talking about!” Fleur spat. “Not Veela!”

    “But he mentioned plans to improve on them,” Ari replied. “Shapechangers.”

    “We’re not descendants of ’arpies either!” Fleur screeched before a beak replaced most of her face and Ron and Bill stepped between the two witches.

    “It seems our discovery will have plenty of ramifications we haven’t yet considered,” Harry said.

    “History might have to be rewritten,” Sirius agreed.

    And that wouldn’t be easy, Hermione knew. Wizards, like people in general, were resistant to fundamental change.

    “We still need to search the building in which Kohlmeier was hiding,” she reminded the others. You never knew what he might have dropped in his mad and ultimately futile scramble to escape the Inferi.

    As it turned out, the dark wizard hadn’t dropped anything in the building in which he had hidden. She had hoped for some relics he had planned to use, but the man had been as competent as she should have expected.

    “He gave them a good fight,” Ron commented, poking the remains of one Inferius with his boot.

    “He still tried to run away,” Ari said.

    “Emphasis on tried,” Ron replied with a grin.

    Hermione huffed - it wasn’t a joking matter, in her opinion. He noticed, and his grin grew wider. “At least we have bodies for Luna and Ginny to examine,” she said, hiding a smile when Ron grimaced in return.

    *****​

    “...and while the curses used against the Inferi hindered our examination - as well as the fact so much time passed before we arrived here - we still found some remarkable clues,” Ginny said at dinner.

    “And we found enough intact body parts for two Inferi!” Luna added. “Although they don’t work any more.”

    “Which is a very good thing,” Hermione Granger said. Not exactly a good topic for dinner conversation, of course.

    “I think the dead dragon is more interesting for our readers, though,” Luna went on. “It must have been the greatest animated corpse in known history - until you blew parts of it up.”

    “We had to.” Harry shrugged.

    “It’s still a loss for Magizoology,” Xenophilius said. “As much a shame as the fact that the Atlanteans showed no care for fish.”

    “Fish?” Hermione stared at the man.

    “Yes. They didn’t manage to adjust the portal so it wouldn’t allow fish through, which means all the native fish species in the harbour were transported to the bottom of the Puerto Rico Trench, where they must have perished in short order.” The man sniffled. “So many species must have died out…”

    “Seeing as the entire population of the islands died and the cavern sank to the bottom of the trench, I don’t think they can be held responsible,” Hermione pointed out. “They couldn’t foresee that.” And given the Atlanteans’ attitude towards other races and slaves, they wouldn’t have cared much, if at all, about fish. Cenkora certainly didn’t.

    “Neglect is no excuse either,” Xenophilius replied. “If the ghosts were sapient, I would give them a piece of my mind!”

    “Not the best phrasing, given the proximity of zombies,” Dumbledore said with a smile.

    Hermione chuckled, but not everyone was familiar enough with muggle zombie clichés to understand the joke. “In any case,” she went on, addressing everyone at the extended table in their Range Rover, “We have now confirmed that the site is safe.”

    “And we’ve confirmed the deaths of Kohlmeier, Kraft and Mallory!” Ari exclaimed. “Bloody traitors!”

    “And dark wizards as well as blood mages,” Hermione said. Well, Kraft hadn’t used blood magic, or Ari would have smelled it.

    “Which means a hefty bounty awaits us!” Ron added with a wide grin.

    “We still have to sort out the bounties placed on us,” Harry pointed out.

    “And the Ottomans are being very stubborn about the affair,” Dumbledore said with a faint frown. “The dispute over the exact status of Atlantis will not help. That said, all of you can be proud of what you have achieved. This is the discovery of the century.”

    Hermione nodded in agreement. They had done it. Now all that was left was to handle the political consequences.

    *****​

    Swiss Magical Confederation, Geneva, January 7th, 2002

    “Isn’t that a little pretentious?” Harry Potter asked, peering at the seal inlaid in the polished marble floor which used the official name of Magical Switzerland, Confoederatio Helvetica Magica. “We’re in the Hall of the International Confederation of Wizards, which isn’t actually Swiss territory.”

    “It’s territory ceded to the ICW by the Swiss,” Hermione replied, “So they probably didn’t want anyone to ever forget that oh so generous gesture.”

    “Well, Percy told me that they are a prickly sort,” Ron said. “And no one really cares about the Swiss, so this is probably the most important part of their history.”

    “It’s actually a fascinating country. Despite their small size, the Swiss have four official languages,” Hermione said.

    “No wonder they take ages to actually do anything,” Ron replied. “Percy said that they’re always the last to adopt the ICW decrees. They must spend most of the time translating everything into three other languages.”

    Harry laughed at the joke, even though that earned him a glare from Hermione. But they had been cooling their heels for over two hours here while the representatives of the ICW’s member countries slowly gathered in the hall behind them for today’s special session.

    And they were using privacy charms, so the two Swiss Guards who were guarding the entrance nearby in robes even Dumbledore might consider a little tacky couldn’t understand them anyway.

    And neither could the representatives who passed them on their way to their seats.

    “Watch out, that one stinks!” Ari suddenly hissed. “Blood mage!”

    Harry looked up and saw a middle-aged witch glaring at them. That had to be the representative from Magical Jamaica. He sneered at her in return. There was no point in being polite to the houngans, and being openly hostile to them would only gather more support among the rest of the member countries.

    The hongan sniffed as she walked past them, white linen robes swirling.

    “For a culture whose robes are supposedly styled after the slaves’ garb worn by their ancestors, she’s wearing quite ostentatious clothing,” Hermione commented snidely.

    “Impractical, too,” Ari added. “Wouldn’t be able to fight well in them.”

    “Heads up, Ottoman incoming,” Ron said.

    And yes, here came Pasha Abdul al-Azm, the Ottoman representative. He scowled at them so deeply, it looked almost comical. And the way he openly ground his teeth when Harry smiled at him only reinforced that.

    “Making him angry won’t help us come to an accommodation,” Hermione told Harry.

    “Showing weakness only encourages your enemies,” Ari replied.

    “We’re not going to fight them,” Hermione retorted.

    “Not here, at least,” Ron added. “Though it would be funny with Dumbledore present.”

    Harry had to agree, but before he could make a quip, someone else stepped out of the lift on the other side of the anteroom. “Lockhart?” Harry blinked. It was the ponce, heading straight towards them with his far too shining smile and far too perfectly coiffed hair. And next to him was Tahira, clinging to his arm, and…

    “Mr Sayadi!” Hermione exclaimed, flicking her wand to dispel the privacy charms.

    Indeed, the ghost floated there, beaming at them.

    “The heroes of the hour!” Lockhart loudly declared as he reached them. “My friend told me everything! I am so proud I did my little part to help you make this monumental discovery!”

    Everything? Harry really hoped that wasn’t true.

    “Hello, Mr Lockhart,” Hermione said. “Tahira,” she added with a nod to the jinni. “Mr Sayadi! What happened to you? The last time we saw you, you were...”

    “Ah, as embarrassing as it was… I got lost.” The ghost did indeed look a little sheepish. “I couldn’t find you again, and finally decided to return to the surface. It took me some time to find a wizard willing to contact my friend for me - I didn’t want to inadvertently betray your position while doing so. And once contact was established, I had to make travel arrangements, which was also a little challenging without any money.”

    “I, of course, sent him money as soon as I heard from him!” Lockhart stated.

    “And we travelled far to meet with Mr Sayadi,” the jinni added. “Could there be a more cruel fate than being left drifting in the eternal darkness of the ocean’s depths, so far from the skies?”

    Harry couldn’t help feeling that Tahira was blaming them for Mr Sayadi’s situation. Judging by Ari’s scowl and muttered ‘stupid smokestack’ as well as Hermione and Ron’s expressions, he wasn’t the only one.

    “We’re sorry - we were attacked by a giant squid,” Hermione said. “It threw us off-course, and we didn’t find you before...” She trailed off.

    “Before you made the discovery of the century!” Lockhart said. “When we heard of the special session, and that Dumbledore had been seen with you beforehand, we decided to come at once. It was obvious, of course, that the ‘important discovery’ the Supreme Mugwump wished to discuss in plenum could only be…”

    Harry’s privacy charm cut the man off. “Dumbledore wanted to announce it himself,” he explained.

    “Ah, of course. To spoil the surprise would have been gauche indeed. I was caught up in the moment, so to speak.” Lockhart flashed his smile at them. “Now, have you considered writing a book about your travels? I have no small experience as an author, and would be glad to help you with that task.”

    Fortunately, Dumbledore called them inside to start the session and provided them with an excuse to avoid answering that.

    *****​

    “Honoured members of the International Confederation of Wizards!” Dumbledore began. “I have called for a special session because an issue of utmost importance has arisen.” He nodded towards the bench on which Harry Potter and his friends - and, unfortunately, Lockhart and Tahira as well - were seated. “Most of you will recognise Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Ari. The untrue accusations levelled against them by the Ottoman Empire and Jamaica have been topics in this chamber before.”

    “Have you called us together for another attempt to protect these criminals?” al-Azm interjected with a sneer. “According to reports, a week ago you were personally responsible for preventing their arrest by lawful authorities!”

    “A few misguided and uninformed bounty hunters decided that they would rather not attack me,” Dumbledore replied. “These young people, whom I am proud to number among my friends, have brought the actual culprits of the attack on the Sultan’s palace to justice. They faced and defeated Herbert Kohlmeier and two dozen of his so-called Storm Wizards and recovered the relics stolen from the Sultan’s Collection.”

    That sent a wave of whispers and comments through the gathered representatives. The houngan representative looked shocked for a moment, Harry noticed, and al-Azm had stopped sneering. Although Harry was not sure if the man would actually accept the truth, or condemn them as trying to escape justice by giving their stolen loot back. It didn’t really matter, of course - the return of their property coupled with the impact of the discovery of Atlantis and Dumbledore’s backing would be enough to make the Ottomans give in. This was politics, after all, not a trial.

    “But that is not why I called for this session. While important, it certainly would not deserve a special session. No, I have called you all together because these heroes have discovered Atlantis.”

    Exclamations and questions filled the chamber at once, creating a cacophony of noise that rendered the individual questions unintelligible. Even Dumbledore took a few seconds to quiet the excitement down.

    “It is true,” the Headmaster finally went on, “And they found not just ruins but a magically preserved, although depopulated, cavern housing the main temple of Atlantis.” Aided by his Amplifying Charm, he spoke over the rising questions. “I have walked the streets of Atlantis. I have seen their holy place. I have read their scriptures and - with the help of skilled translators - I have talked to the ghost of their high priest. My friends, my esteemed colleagues, fellow members of the International Confederation of Wizards, what has been shrouded in myth and legend, thought lost forever, has been found! The history and lore of Atlantis will be revealed to us in due course, and it’s all thanks to these young people!”

    Applause filled the chamber, and Harry blushed a little under the - barely intelligible - praise heaped upon them.

    Once more, the Headmaster let the representatives voice their excitement for a bit before he continued. “But while the Curse-Breakers who made this discovery will certainly be honoured for their achievement, and, I expect, their legal troubles with certain member countries expeditiously resolved in the light of the evidence they have provided, we need to determine under whose authority the remains of Atlantis fall. Should we let any one country claim dominion over arguably one of the most important legacies of our entire world and their secret knowledge? I think not, although I am but one wizard.”

    Dumbledore’s false modesty didn’t fool anyone, of course, but his statement had the desired effect as the - mostly Caribbean - nations wanting to know where Atlantis was located were quickly drowned out by proposals supported by many more, and more powerful, countries, to have the ICW take control of the remains of Atlantis for ‘the whole of wizardkind’. After all, no country would want to risk one of their rivals gaining such prestige and potentially powerful secrets, after all, even if it meant curbing their own ambition and letting the ICW step in.

    Just as Dumbledore had planned, and to which Harry and his friends had agreed.

    It still took hours to pass the proposal, of course. And even longer and Dumbledore’s personal intervention until the Ottomans officially withdrew their bounty. That the information stolen from the Sultan’s Collection hadn’t been needed to discover Atlantis hadn’t made them any happier, of course.

    *****​

    Swiss Magical Confederation, Geneva, January 7th, 2002

    “We should have just bribed al-Azm,” Sirius said at the very late dinner Harry Potter and his friends were having in the ‘Baton Vert’, a small restaurant in Geneva that Dumbledore had recommended to them. “It was obvious that he knew we were telling the truth and was only holding out for a better offer.”

    “Or he was trying to entrap us, so he could accuse us of attempted bribery,” Hermione pointed out.

    “I would not go as far as to accuse Abdul of such machinations,” Dumbledore said, “although I would not put it past him, either. However, I think he was merely trying to save face for the Sultan.”

    “And protect himself,” Ron added.

    “Indeed, he would not have been the first representative whose ruler punished them for supposed failures in the ICW,” the Headmaster agreed. “In any case, at long last, this matter has been settled. Your reputation has been restored.”

    “There’s still the houngans’ accusations,” Hermione said.

    “Which are true, as I recall,” Dumbledore said with a slight smile. “But, in light of the houngans’ infamy, few, if any, magical nations would consider Jamaica’s enmity a smirch on your honour. Quite the contrary, in fact.”

    He was correct, of course - Harry knew a number of Caribbean nations voted against the houngans no matter what proposal was up for debate. And not many bounty hunters would work for them lest they ended up ostracised and blacklisted.

    “So, what are your plans now that your claim to Atlantis has been secured?” Auntie asked him as dessert was being served.

    “Ah.” Harry took a deep breath. “We haven’t made any concrete plans yet.”

    “Apart from spending a week celebrating our success!” Ron exclaimed. “At least!”

    “Yes!” Ari agreed emphatically.

    “My treat!” Sirius obviously wouldn’t let the opportunity to spoil Harry and his friends again pass by. “People will remember our parties just as much as your discovery!”

    “Properly examining the Atlantean cavern will take a long time,” Hermione said with a glance at Harry’s godfather, who was probably already making plans for the parties he had mentioned.

    “Too long,” Ron added.

    “We have to, at least, teach others Atlantean so they can do their own research,” Hermione retorted. “And I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to examine the temple and its surroundings while we’re doing that. The lore of the Atlanteans, including almost all their history, still remains to be discovered.”

    And she wouldn’t want anyone else to discover that, Harry knew.

    “While your tenacity and determination are admirable,” Dumbledore cut in, “and, I have no doubt, one of the main reasons you succeeded where countless others failed, I need to caution you against resuming your more dangerous work as Curse-Breakers too soon. You have made a great discovery - but you also suffered a great deal. You faced slander, betrayal and far more deadly combat than anyone should experience, especially at your age. And you’ve wrestled with a temptation to which many have succumbed in the past.” The Headmaster slowly met their eyes, one after the other, and Harry knew exactly what Dumbledore meant.

    Blood magic. And everything else they had done which hadn’t been entirely above board.

    About which, judging by her frown, Auntie would demand to know more once they were in private. Rats.

    “I feel it would be best if you spent considerable time unwinding and relaxing, my dear friends, before you undertake your next adventure.” Dumbledore nodded at them.

    Harry glanced at his friends as he wrapped an arm around Hermione.

    “I think that’s a good idea,” she said.

    He nodded in agreement. They would have to deal with the press for a long time, anyway - there had been a dozen requests for interviews already, even though the session hadn’t ended until less than an hour ago. That spoke volumes about the impact that their discovery would have on the magical world. They were famous now - and they had earned it. He wasn’t the Boy-Who-Lived any more, but one of the tomb raiders who had discovered the legendary Atlantis! Against all the odds, despite betrayals, curses and ambushes, they had realised their dream.

    “A break would do us good,” Harry agreed.

    For a while, at least - they were tomb raiders, not mere archaeologists, after all.

    *****​
     
  3. Threadmarks: Epilogue: Four Years Later
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Epilogue: Four Years Later

    ‘The Atlanteans, having ‘bred out’ the muggles amongst them over several generations during which time marriages between muggles were prohibited and mixed marriages, which usually resulted in magical children, were strongly encouraged, quickly grew to view muggles - and soon, foreigners in general - with contempt. It was likely because of this widespread contempt towards muggles that the Atlanteans went to such great lengths to ensure that the various slave species they created could use magic. And it was that contempt, born from and perpetuating ignorance, which, ultimately, doomed them: They simply could not imagine that a muggle’s soul was equal to a wizard’s, and so they were completely unprepared for their planned Second Grand Sacrifice to go so fatally wrong when the unwilling sacrifices took control over the very ritual that their deaths had empowered.
    If we could only learn one lesson from Atlantis, then it should be this: The combination of arrogance and ignorance will ruin even the mightiest of wizards.’
    - Excerpt from ‘Atlantis: A Preliminary Summary, Vol. 1’ by Hermione Granger, London, 2004


    *****​

    Devon, Ottery St Catchpole, July 31st, 2005

    Ron Weasley smiled as he watched Alanza, Belmira and Caskata stalk their prey. In the tall grass next to the garden, they were almost invisible - unless you were watching from a broom in the sky, as he was. Or, he added to himself, unless Caskata forgot not to raise her tail high when sneaking. But she seemed to have learned her lesson since last time - she was keeping low to the ground, carefully putting one paw in front of the other.

    The three had spread out, too - they couldn’t encircle their prey, but they could cut off half the possible escape routes. Alanza was the most eager, as usual. She was about a yard ahead of the others, almost at the garden fence. He could see her tail twitch in anticipation.

    Would she be able to wait until her sisters were ready? Almost, as it turned out. Belmira was still getting into position when Alanza roared and pounced, razor-sharp claws digging into the wooden fence as she propelled herself upwards before descending upon her shrieking prey from above, followed a second later by Caskata and Belmira.

    Their really loudly screeching prey, Ron realised with a wince - Victoire must have transformed. “Maman! Maman! À l’aide!”

    He quickly guided his broom down to the ground. “Girls! Girls!” he yelled. “Don’t…”

    But it was too late. Fireballs started flying in every direction, and three jaguar cubs sped away from the screeching young Veela as fast as their paws could carry them. Fortunately, the fireballs were as pint-sized as the bird-girl throwing them, but it was the height of summer, and while they wouldn’t really hurt a human - or a jaguar - there was a lot of flammable material around.

    But Ron was quite a skilled wizard and managed to put out the fires with a few quickly cast Water-Making Spells before they could really get going.

    Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite quick enough to manage that and also calm Victoire down before Fleur, trailed by a grimacing Bill, noticed and ran over from the house.

    “Ron! What have your daughters done now?”

    Well, it seemed Victoire would be able to screech even without transforming if she took after her mother. “They’re just playing,” he said. “Look! She wasn’t even scratched.”

    The little Veela’s screeching turned into crying. “Elles veulent me manger tout cru!”

    “No, they don’t want to eat you!” Ron was quick to assure - or try to - his niece. “They just like play-hunting.”

    “Je ne veux pas être chassée!”

    “Ron! You need to control your little beasts!” Fleur snapped as she gathered her daughter in her arms.

    “Hey!” He frowned at that. “They’re not beasts!”

    “They act like beasts!”

    And she walked off with her little girl.

    Ron looked at Bill, who shrugged. “She’s very protective,” his brother told Ron. “But your kids do like to scare Victoire a little too much.”

    “’snot true!” Alanza piped up from the batch of tall grass behind Ron. “We hunt each other, too!”

    Ron had conjured a short dress for her out of habit before she finished speaking. Mum loved all her grandkids - she was the only one able to handle all of them together without any of them misbehaving - but she had a few issues with them running around naked, shapeshifters or not.

    “You shouldn’t be hunting anyone,” Bill said.

    “What?” Belmira did her best to imitate Victoire as a dress settled on her small form. “Mum says we’ll starve if we can’t hunt!”

    “And Mum said we should play-hunt family! Vicky is family!” Caskata added, nodding in agreement with her own argument.

    “Ari probably didn’t mean it like that,” Bill said.

    Ari had meant it exactly like that, Ron knew, but correcting his brother would only cause more drama. And, as usual when the Weasleys gathered, Harry’s birthday or not, there was already a lot of drama. And mischief. “Anyway,” he said, dressing his third daughter with a wave of his wand, “that’s enough hunting for now. Let’s go see if there’s pudding!”

    “Yay!”

    “Pudding!”

    “I want cake!”

    His three little angels tore off towards the house, leaving Ron and Bill behind. Even though they really liked meat - and ate more of it than normal witches their age - they did love their desserts.

    “Victoire’s not used to this kind of horseplay,” Bill said.

    “I know.” Compared to what the twins or Ginny had done during Ron’s childhood, his daughters were real angels. And Ari’s standards were… different. As long as none of them were bleeding, his wife wasn’t really concerned. “I’ll talk to them.” Not that it would do much good. And it wasn’t as if Victoire wouldn’t get back at them.

    Bill glanced at him, then shook his head. “Let’s see if the little beasts left us any pudding.”

    “Alright. Guess my babysitting shift is over,” Ron agreed. Mum could take over, and he could take a break. Ari could probably also use a break from helping Dad by translating a foreign muggle manual in the shed.

    *****​

    London, Kingston upon Thames, July 31st, 2005

    Hermione Granger had her wand out, although held at her side and pointing at the ground, as she approached her parents’ house through the garden. The bounty placed by the Ottomans had been rescinded years ago, but that didn’t mean Hermione and her friends had no enemies. After all, they had never found the relics stolen from the jinn by Kohlmeier. He must have left them somewhere before he went to Atlantis with Mr Mallory. Perhaps with someone - like a Storm Wizard, or a houngan - who’d want to avenge his death.

    But she didn’t spot any danger as she stepped into the warded area and entered the house. “Mum! Dad!”

    “Hermione!”

    “We’re in the living room!”

    And there they were. She hugged both of them. “Are you ready?”

    “Yes. But I really don’t like Apparition,” Dad said.

    She shouldn’t have told them about Splinching. “I’m very familiar with The Burrow. Side-Along-Apparition with me is perfectly safe,” she assured them.

    “It’s also a perfectly horrible experience,” Mum told her.

    She couldn’t dispute that. “But it’s the best option. Portkeys are regulated by the Ministry.” She ignored Dad’s muttered comment about the horrible spinning around. “And the Ministry doesn’t like adding muggle homes to the Floo Network.”

    Which would be too dangerous anyway - they had never found the traitor in the Ministry who had sold them out to the bounty hunters who had attacked The Burrow. They might never find them, either - Humphrey Kettlebrook, the main suspect, had been killed in the latest war between the Republic of Magical Maine and Magical Québec. That, at least, was certain - Hermione had personally checked the body for tampering.

    Something she hadn’t told her parents, of course. “Besides,” she reminded them, “you didn’t complain on the trip to Atlantis.” And they had loved the visit.

    “That was Atlantis,” Dad retorted. “The most important discovery of the century. Not your boyfriend’s birthday party.”

    “If you had informed us a little earlier that the party would be held at The Burrow, instead of at your home, we could have taken the car,” her mum complained.

    “It was a last-minute change,” Hermione said. “Sirius’s fault.” He wanted to see Harry use his gift - a new broom - right away. And it meant they were less likely to have to deal with reporters trying to catch Harry at his birthday party, though the press’s attention had started to wane in the last year. Not that they had a prayer of getting through Grimmauld Place’s protections anyway.

    “Ah.” Her parents nodded. They were familiar with Harry’s godfather, of course.

    “So, can we go now?”

    “I guess so,” Dad said with the expression of a prisoner on death row.

    Hermione frowned at him before she looked around. “Any luggage?” That would be stored in her enchanted pocket to facilitate travelling.

    “Just this.” Mum held out a small package - a gift for Harry, probably. She took it, then grabbed her dad’s hand and focused on her destination.

    They arrived between The Burrow and The Rook, and Hermione ignored Dad’s groaning to apparate back and fetch Mum.

    Mum took a little longer to recover - Hermione should have taken her first - but a minute later, they were walking towards The Burrow.

    “Did you hear anything about your paper?” Mum asked.

    “My ‘underwater archaeology’ article? No,” Hermione replied. They couldn’t publish the discovery of Atlantis in muggle journals, but underwater remains of a hitherto unknown Caribbean civilisation? Worded cautiously and vaguely enough, it should pass muster. And they hadn’t really faked the find - just moved a few relics up from the Puerto Rico Trench to a point they could have reached with a deep-submergence vehicle they could officially rent.

    “Isn’t that unusual?” Dad cocked his head at her.

    “Yes,” she admitted. “But the speculation about Atlantis such a find is bound to produce must have made the publisher extra-cautious.” No one wanted to be seen as a loon who believed in myths, after all. “They won’t drag their feet forever, though, and I’ve been writing more articles for The Quibbler.” Which had gained quite the reputation as a serious archaeological magazine following their articles about Atlantis, in addition to Ginny and Luna’s Magizoology articles.

    And not that she would ever write for the Daily Prophet as long as they employed Skeeter. That witch… Hermione pressed her lips together as she remembered the odious witch’s latest article where she all but called on Harry to break up with her because their lack of kids was obviously Hermione’s fault, even though it was their mutual choice not to have children yet! Bill and Fleur had waited far longer before they had Victoire, and no one had cared about that. The witch was just angry that she hadn’t been able to get any exclusive stories about the discovery of Atlantis.

    Hermione smiled at the memory. The biggest story in the entire magical world, newspapers from every country covering the event, and Skeeter was limited to warming up vastly embellished stories from their time at Hogwarts.

    Loud yelling drew her attention, but it was just Alanza, Belmira and Caskata racing towards The Burrow. Hermione smiled at the sight. Ari and Ron were the exceptions. Well, mostly Ari - she had grown up with different expectations and had wanted children as soon as possible.

    To each their own - neither Hermione nor Harry were ready for a child, much less three shape-changing ones. But one day…

    “Dear?” Mum sounded concerned.

    “Yes? Sorry, I was wool-gathering,” Hermione told her. She hadn’t had a flashback. Hadn’t had one for a long time now.

    “Ah.”

    Hermione didn’t have to check to know that Mum was looking at the three little girls. Wistfully, probably. She sighed. “Remember: They transform into jaguar cubs.” Rambunctious jaguar cubs with a penchant for destruction that had even impressed Petunia - and she was a demolitions expert!

    “Well, your children wouldn’t,” Mum retorted.

    “They would have bouts of accidental magic, though,” Hermione replied. Her parents had had their hands full with just her, and they had been far younger at the time.

    “You could hire a babysitter,” Dad cut in. “Even if you don’t want to ‘rely on Harry’s money’, you’ve earned more than enough by now, haven’t you? Royalties from your book alone would be enough, wouldn’t they?”

    “Perhaps.” The book was selling well, despite some ‘political passages’ to which certain countries took offence. And all without Lockhart’s help, of course - Hermione didn’t write fiction, after all. But she hadn’t looked into the rates for babysitters. And to find a babysitter you could trust would be quite difficult. Not to mention that neither she nor Harry shared Ari’s view that you should have kids before you risked your life raiding tombs so your family would survive if you met that curse you couldn’t break.

    They reached the entrance - none of the girls had bothered closing the door behind them - together with Ron and Bill.

    “They played ‘hunting’ with Victoire,” Ron said instead of a greeting.

    “Oh.” That meant Fleur and Ari would be at odds again. “I’m not going to mention the Cauldron of Life, then,” Hermione said. Of the relics Kohlmeier had stolen from the Village of the Jinn, that was the only one of any importance. Apart from the jinn and some collectors, no one really cared about the staves and the other outdated trinkets. But the relic that might have been used to create entire species of magical creatures? Its historical value almost paled next to the political ramifications a thorough examination of the cauldron might have.

    “Good.” Bill smiled. “I don’t think anyone is in the mood for another argument about the origin of the Veela.”

    Who, in Hermione’s well-informed opinion, were most likely created by the Atlanteans as a slave race, even if the Veela continued to deny that. Of course, unlike other species, such as the sirens, who embraced the lore found in Atlantis since it let them claim human ancestry, the Veela were already accepted as a human-like species in most civilised countries, which coloured their opinion to some degree.

    Stupid politics, Ari called it, and Hermione shared the other witch’s opinion. Facts mattered more than myths, as far as she was concerned.

    They found the girls, together with the rest of their families, in the extended living room. Harry was telling them about his new broom and had their rapt attention - Alanza’s ice cream was melting without the girl realising it, Hermione noticed.

    Harry would make a great dad, she thought - not for the first time - as she walked over to give him a hug and greet everyone else.

    *****​

    Harry Potter quickly stood as soon as he saw Hermione and her parents enter the living room. “Hermione!” He beamed at her, spreading his arms. “Hi, Gabriel! Hi, Ellen!” he belatedly added.

    “Don’t worry, Harry, we understand. It’s not as if you were living together and last saw each other less than an hour ago.” Hermione’s dad had grown more sarcastic, in Harry’s opinion, over the years. It wasn’t that he or Ellen disapproved of Harry and Hermione’s relationship, not really, but both had developed a slightly wary attitude towards the magical world over time. And Harry was, next to Hermione, their main connection to said magical world.

    “Dad!” Hermione frowned at her father, but that didn’t seem to impress the man much. Sighing, she shook her head and returned her attention to Harry and the children. “Have you been good?” she asked the giggling girls - they might not quite understand sarcasm yet, but they understood when someone was making fun of someone else.

    “No! They hunted! Me!” Victoire protested at once.

    “We were playing!” Alanza retorted.

    “Yes!” “Yeah!” her sisters chimed in.

    “Please!” Harry spread his hands. “No fighting or you won’t get to ride on my new broom!”

    “No!”

    “We’ll be good!”

    That always worked. Harry smiled at them. “But you have to ask your parents first!”

    That sent the kids scattering. Victoire went to look for Fleur. The little Veela knew that Fleur was more likely to give permission, being a Veela herself and, therefore, able to fly. For a similar reason, Alanza, Belmira and Caskata usually went to look for Ari when they wanted permission to climb a particularly high tree.

    Ron shook his head as he joined them. “Spoiling my daughters, hm?”

    Harry scoffed. “As if you don’t take them flying every chance you get.”

    “Have to start them young,” Ron replied with a grin. “Have you gotten your copy of ‘Journeying with Jinn’ yet?”

    “Lockhart’s new book?” Hermione shook her head.

    “Arrived today,” Ron said, pulling the book in question out of his pocket.

    “I expect it’ll be like all his books: heavy on the fiction, light on the facts,” Hermione said. She still took the book, of course. “Well, his description of his wedding is thought to be quite factual,” she admitted, “but that’s a special case.”

    Harry grinned. Married to Tahira - Harry couldn’t imagine a more fitting fate for the ponce. The only witch he knew that had an ego to match Lockhart’s - and the power and influence to keep him under her thumb. “He might not be able to ‘spice up the plot’ as much as he’s used to with her.”

    Even Hermione grinned at that as she sat down on the couch with him. “Well, compared to Skeeter he’s the picture of a diligent author,” she commented.

    Skeeter. Harry scowled at the thought. That muckraker kept attacking them in her articles, but she always stayed just this side of libel.

    “Uncle Harry, don’t glare! Your face will get stuck!”

    Victoire had returned. He smiled at the young Veela. “Have you been listening to the twins, Victoire?”

    She shook her head, but her expression betrayed her. She was probably planning to use a prank item from the twins on Ron’s daughters.

    Well, no one ever claimed Weasley family dinners were boring. It seemed his birthday would be no exception.

    *****​

    “...so we had to figure out a rotation for the deployment since the Hit-Wizards are still not up to their nominal strength, and Atlantis is too far from Britain to allow commuting,” Percy explained. “It’s quite the logistical challenge, actually, due to the limited ways of entering the enclave, especially for nations far from the Caribbean. While food and water aren’t a problem, rotating personnel can be difficult.”

    “Yes,” Harry Potter agreed. “During the first year, we were often on our own down there.” Especially since the quality of the detachments sent by various nations varied greatly, and some were more concerned with keeping rival nations’ wizards in check instead of working together. At least the most important issues had been worked out since then, and the fervour about everything Atlantean that had gripped the magical world in 2002 had subsided in the meantime, even though Hermione’s book had fanned the flames again somewhat.

    “And we were the only real guards,” Ron said. Glancing over his shoulder, he added: “Do you need a hand, dear?”

    Ari shook her head without taking her eyes off her daughters, even though they had stopped changing into canaries and back every few seconds (and screaming in terror) for ten minutes now. Victoire hadn’t stopped smirking, though. This round had gone to her - or, rather, to the ‘Canary Calamity Candy’ Fred and George had developed. Which, of course, meant Alanza, Belmira and Caskata would soon be plotting to get back at the little Veela.

    Harry sighed. Perhaps he should sound out Hermione about their plans to hold off on having children. A little daughter or son would be great. If Ron and Ari could handle shape-changing triplets, Harry and Hermione should be able to handle a single child, shouldn’t they? Their child wouldn’t change into a cat or a bird, anyway. And Auntie and Sirius would be happy to help out, wouldn’t they?

    And both would probably spoil the child rotten, Harry thought. He drew his wand when the fireplace flared up, but it was just Auntie and Sirius arriving.

    “Sorry for being late,” Sirius announced. He didn’t sound sorry, though. “But Mr Sayadi arrived, and we had to explain to him how to find The Burrow.”

    “Mr Sayadi’s ghost is coming?” Hermione asked, perking up.

    “It’ll take him a while to travel here, but yes, he’s coming,” Auntie replied. “He had a translation job in France.”

    “Great! I’ve got a few questions for him,” Hermione said. Not just about languages, of course, Harry knew. But the ghost could be trusted - he knew about their uses of blood magic - some of them, at least - but hadn’t said anything, not even to Lockhart, and he couldn’t be compelled to talk, being a ghost.

    With Ginny and Luna still on their expedition in North America, only Arthur and Dumbledore had yet to arrive before the party could start. And Mr Sayadi’s ghost, of course.

    *****​

    Dumbledore arrived fifteen minutes later, stepping out of the fireplace with his customary smile and eye-watering robes. And, Harry Potter noted jealously, with more grace than Harry had ever managed himself.

    “Greetings, everyone,” the Headmaster said, nodding, before he was swarmed by four little girls.

    “Sweets!” Alanza demanded.

    “Please!” Belmira added.

    Caskata nodded vigorously. “Yes, sweets, please!”

    “Fawkes?” Victoire tugged on the Headmaster’s robes.

    “Fawkes had a burning day, so he couldn’t come with me,” Dumbledore explained.

    “Aw.” Victoire pouted and sniffled. “Can we visit him later?”

    “Ah…” Dumbledore looked at Fleur.

    “Peut-être si tu es sage.”

    Victoire nodded repeatedly. “Oui! Oui!”

    “Us too!” Alanza piped up at once.

    “You don’t like birds!” Victoire shot back.

    “Sure do!” Belmira replied, licking her lips.

    Which set off Victoire. “You can’t eat Fawkes! Maman!”

    Dumbledore’s assurances that it really was impossible, not merely forbidden, to eat Fawkes fell on deaf ears as the brief truce between the four girls ended in another row until Molly stepped in and threatened to withhold cake from them if they didn’t behave.

    At which point, Harry Potter approached Dumbledore. “Headmaster.”

    “Harry! Happy birthday!”

    “Thank you, sir. How are you doing?”

    “Ah, I’ve been preparing my Alchemy lessons with Horace. Last year there was some overlap with his N.E.W.T. class in Potions, so we want to avoid that this year. And Severus sent me a sample of his latest invention - I’m not allowed to go into details, he was very clear about that, but it was very cleverly done indeed.” Dumbledore smiled.

    Harry wasn’t really interested in hearing about Snape’s latest potion - unless it could be used for tomb raiding - but nodded as if he were.

    Dumbledore chuckled - he wasn’t fooled, of course. “But I expect you’re interested in my own work.”

    “Yes, sir.” Work that Harry and his friends had contracted.

    “I still think Miss Granger would have managed to create it herself with a little more training,” Dumbledore said as he pulled out a small package.

    “Thank you, sir!” Harry put the package in his enchanted pocket. Hermione would have managed, he was certain. But none of them wanted to wait another few months. Their break had been long enough, and Ron and Ari’s girls had managed to master their transformations now, so Molly could safely babysit them on her own.

    It was time to get back on the broom, so to speak. Harry and his friends still had some unfinished business, after all.

    “Do try to be a little more discreet than last time, though,” Dumbledore said as Molly called everyone to take their seats at the table.

    “Yes, sir,” Harry replied. Of course Dumbledore had deduced what they were planning - their request had made it obvious, after all.

    *****​

    Magical Ottoman Empire, Constantinople, August 7th, 2005

    Ron Weasley watched the wizards enter the Sultan’s palace through his Omnioculars, then touched the pin on his collar. “They’ve taken the bait,” he whispered. He was too high in the air for anyone to overhear him, and disillusioned as well, but talking loudly still felt wrong.

    “That was to be expected,” he heard Hermione comment. “The Sultan made it quite clear that he wanted relics from actual Atlantis, not from some minor outposts.”

    And the Sultan wouldn’t let a minor thing like an ICW decree stop him from trying to acquire said relics through any means necessary, Ron knew. Although with Atlantis itself under heavy guard, grave robbing was not an option.

    Robbing archaeologists who were analysing Atlantean relics recovered from the cavern, though, was another thing. The Sultan was probably amused that the pillar which his men had just acquired had been first discovered and described by Hermione.

    He wouldn’t be quite as amused once he found out that it was a fake, of course.

    “Everything’s in place then. Now we just have to wait until the time’s right.” That was Harry.

    “We’ve been waiting four years already,” Ari said.

    “Then a few more hours won’t hurt,” Harry replied.

    Ron grinned as he heard Ari huff. The closer they were to their goal, the more impatient his wife grew.

    *****​

    Turkey, Anatolia, August 7th, 2005

    “One hour until midnight,” Ron Weasley heard Hermione announce.

    “Finally!” Ari exclaimed, jumping up from Ron’s lap. “Let’s go!” She was at the cabinet in the corner of the room before Ron had managed to stand up, almost jumping in place. “Come on!” She stepped into the cabinet and closed the doors. When Ron pulled them open a moment later, she had vanished.

    Exactly as planned.

    Harry was next, leaving Hermione and Ron in the tent. A minute later, Ari returned. “I smelled just one guard. Harry’ll use his cloak to sneak past him and will take the other cabinet with him.”

    Again, as planned. If things continued to go as smoothly, Ron would start to get worried. Not that he’d say so, of course - Hermione would lecture him about superstition.

    “Waiting again,” Ari complained, sitting down next to him.

    “He has to get through the wards on the Sultan’s harem,” Hermione said. “That’ll take an hour or so. It depends on how much they have changed the protections since last time.”

    Since the cabinet opened again, revealing Harry, less than an hour later, Ron assumed the Janissaries or whoever maintained the wards hadn’t really changed too much. “We’re inside, and I’ve checked Kavya - she’s not under the Imperius,” Harry told them with a grin.

    Hermione nodded. She would check herself anyway, Ron knew. As did Harry.

    Ron stepped out of the cabinet into a far smaller room than Kavya had had four years ago. Part of her punishment for attempting to escape the harem, no doubt. There were no odalisques attending her any more, either. It didn’t matter - as soon as Hermione had dealt with the spells on the Naga, she’d be leaving through the cabinet herself. Well, in an extended and shrunken trunk of Harry’s, since a Naga was too large to fit into the cabinet.

    “It’s good to see you,” Kavya greeted them. She sounded wary, in Ron’s opinion - but then, their first attempt to free her had failed.

    They were much better prepared this time, though. “Thank you,” Ron replied.

    “Hello,” Ari said, rather curtly, then turned to Ron. “Let’s go! We have to rescue the Nundu as well!”

    “What?”

    Ron hustled Ari, both of them disillusioned, out of the room and left Harry to explain their plan to Kavya.

    They didn’t take long to reach the Nundu’s cage. “Poor cat!” Ari whispered, almost reaching into the warded area.

    Poor city, should the Nundu ever get loose, Ron thought. But then, that was another reason for taking the Nundu with them. Provided Dumbledore’s concoction worked, of course.

    As he started to dismantle the cage’s protections, Ron really hoped it would work. Otherwise, this rescue would be more dangerous than fighting Kohlmeier had been.

    Two and a half hours later - without the need to hide from the patrolling Janissaries Ron would have been faster - he was done. The cage’s protections were under his control. “Throw the bait inside,” he whispered.

    “Have you finished?”

    “I’ll finish once it has taken the bait,” Ron replied. There was no way he’d risk a Nundu escaping from its cage.

    “Her, not it!” Ari corrected him. But she pulled out a rather large slab of meat and stuck a small vial into it before banishing it into the Nundu’s cage.

    The piece of meat bounced once, then the Nundu pounced and swallowed it whole. A moment later, it started to choke as the enchanted vial broke down in its stomach and released its contents.

    “Oh, no!” Ari whispered.

    “That’s normal,” Ron replied. At least, he hoped it was normal

    The Nundu choked for a little while longer - smoke shooting out of its mouth - then collapsed.

    It looked like Dumbledore’s alchemical concoction worked as the Headmaster had told them it would. At least the sedative part. Whether or not the toxic breath had been neutralised Ron didn’t particularly want to find out first-hand.

    He flicked his wand and broke the last spell on the cage. “Go!” he whispered.

    Ari was already moving, entering the cage and waving her wand as she pulled out a trunk. A moment later, the giant cat-like beast started to float towards the unshrunken trunk on the floor.

    “We’ve got the cat,” he whispered into his pin.

    “We’re almost done here as well,” Harry replied.

    “Good. Because the next patrol’s coming in five minutes,” Ron said. “And once they see that the Nundu’s gone from her cage…”

    Her destroyed cage, of course, Ron added to himself as he started to wreck the cage from the inside.

    By the time Ron and Ari were back in the harem, it seemed like every Janissary in the city was looking for the Nundu.

    They couldn’t have asked for a better distraction.

    *****​

    Turkey, Anatolia, August 8th, 2005

    Hermione Granger wiped the sweat from her brow. The Sultan’s wizards might not have improved the defences on the harem by much, but the poor Naga had been covered by a lot of new spells and curses - many of them dark. Nothing she couldn’t handle, of course. Especially after the Headmaster’s lessons.

    “Done,” she whispered, smiling at Kavya.

    “Truly?” the Naga asked.

    Hermione nodded. “Yes.”

    Harry added something in Parseltongue as he opened his trunk.

    Kavya hesitated a moment, then nodded - to herself, or so Hermione thought - and slithered into the trunk. Harry waved his wand, then stuffed the shrunken trunk into his pocket. “Let’s go.”

    Less than a minute later, all of them were back in their wizarding tent. Where a very emotional Naga - Harry, of course, had had to let her out of the trunk right away - hugged all of them at once with her tail, hard enough to make breathing a little difficult.

    Not that Hermione could blame the Naga for her reaction. She was finally free to return to her family. Just as Harry had promised four years ago.

    Now all that was left to do was to drop off the Nundu in her natural habitat in Africa and to transport Kavya back to the Naga Nation in Magical India.

    Where, or so Hermione and her friends hoped, they would also find more clues about Shangri-La. Information about the legendary magical realm was scarce, but the Naga Nation had supposedly had good relations with the Tibetan realm before it vanished from the face of the earth a little more than three hundred years ago. And if not, well, Hermione could think of a few more possible sources.

    She grinned, baring her teeth. They had found Atlantis. Shangri-La couldn’t be more difficult to find. But it was bound to be a lot more interesting than returning to Egypt.

    *****​

    The End.

    *****​

    Author's Note: I owe my betareader, fredfred, a great many thanks. He has provided vast amount of feedback, spotted typos and plotholes, brit-picked, and generally shaped the course of this story a great deal.
    Thank you!
     
    Last edited: Sep 28, 2019
  4. RedX

    RedX Not too sore, are you?

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    An excellent tale! Wrapped up nicely, the possibilities for the future established... and the mental image of triplet jaguar cubs just takes the cake for cuteness factor.
     
    Starfox5 likes this.
  5. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Thanks! And, indeed, the triplets are very cute. Of course, so's a little fireball-chucking Veela.
     
    caspian1a likes this.
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