Miscalculation - Chapter 8

Harry adjusted the cuff of his right sleeve again for at least the tenth time in the last minute. He had opted for a charcoal gray long-sleeved dress shirt and black gloves rather than rely on a glamour. His cufflinks and lapel pin were emerald, green to match his eyes. He tried for a more casual look but wasn't sure how successful he had been. In an effort to appear less stuffy he had ditched his cloak. On the muggle side of the world, he could blend in easily with a high-class crowd. It didn't feel right to wear jeans or another more casual option for pants and he refused to swap over to sneakers once his custom fit shoes were complete.

He took a deep breath, let it out, and strode into the Ministry. The conversation with Pandora had been rather enlightening. Both parts of it. Talking about Luna made him realize how much he had loved the girl. Maybe not romantically, but she was someone incredibly special to him. It sparked a deep ache for the all of the people he would never see again. He had to keep telling himself that they would grow up in a better world than the previous version. The best he could hope for was to see these versions of them happy and safe.

The conversation also made him face the truth. He had no inclination to join the Order. Dumbledore had lost his faith. The wizard was powerful, intelligent, and had a way with people. Unfortunately, that did not mean he was the best fit for leading a 'secret' resistance. Dumbledore wasn't going to relinquish control easily. The man liked to be the one in control.

His plan to replace the Ministry with a functioning system would put him at odds with the old goat. Potentially his parents as well. He absolutely refused to fight them, which meant his only option was talking to them.

Harry strode to the elevators. He got a couple of inquisitive looks as he selected the floor for the Auror Office. It was the best place he could think of to find James Potter. He made it to the door of the bullpen before his mental shields cracked.

James Potter stood beside Frank Longbottom and Amelia Bones going over case files. A couple of desks over stood Sirius who was blatantly flirting with a witch Harry had only seen in photos. Marlene McKinnon was a woman that Sirius had dated. She also died in one of the Familicide assaults that Voldemort loved in the first war.

"Oi, Potter," someone yelled.

"Yes?" Harry and James answered at the same time.

James followed the other voice to find Harry.

"Looks like you've got a visitor," Frank motioned for James.

"Sweet Merlin, Prongs," Sirius joined James as they approached. "You weren't kidding about the family resemblance."

"Lord Potter," Harry inclined his head.

"Mister Potter," James replied. "What brings you here?"

"I was hoping to speak with you," Harry answered.

He really wished his voice didn't tremor when he spoke.

"You and Lady Potter, if possible," Harry added after a moment. "As you said, there aren't many Potters running around anymore."

James and Sirius shared a silent conversation. It pulled at his heart to see the two together. His time with Sirius had been limited and he only caught glimpses of the man in front of him.

"I'll need to speak with my wife to arrange a time," James finally answered.

"Thank you," Harry inclined his head once more. "Feel free to send an owl or stop by. I'm staying at the Three Broomsticks until I've settled on a place of my own."

"Being around Rosie helps too, eh?" Sirius teased.

Harry chuckled as he shrugged.

"I should have an answer for you by the end of the day," James said. "Is that all?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "Thank you."

Harry stepped away and returned to the elevator. It didn't arrive nearly as fast as he had hoped it would. He ignored the subtle glances sent his way on the ride down. His steps were sure and steady as he strolled out of the Ministry. He stepped out and raised his wand.

Somehow the Knight Bus arrived without running anyone over. Harry paid for a ride to Hogsmeade and rented a room for the rest of the month. Finding a place of his own could wait until after he had an idea of his further path.

It was too early to retire. He was too wired even if it was. Harry decided to take a walk around the village to work off some energy. He noticed the large black dog in the nearby alley once he stepped outside. Padfoot followed him through his tour of the village stores. Harry made sure to spend plenty of time in the bookstore. It wasn't just for show, there were gaps in his knowledge of the time period. He couldn't allow his plans to fail simply because he overlooked some tiny detail. Unfortunately, the store did not carry back issues of the Daily Prophet, Quibbler, or any of the International Newspapers for sale. The clerk looked at him like he had grown a second head when he had asked. Even then, he left the bookstore with quite the haul.

Padfoot was waiting for him when he stepped out into the street. Harry ducked into a small deli that didn't exist in the future. He purchased a big turkey leg that was cooked to perfection. The spices were subtle as to not aggravate sensitive taste-buds like those belonging to a dog, or canine animagus.

Harry walked over to where Padfoot waited. The animagus watched him approach with a cold stare. Harry clicked his tongue to call the dog closer. Padfoot didn't move. Then Harry unwrapped the turkey leg from the paper wrap. He held it out to Padfoot and waited.

The dog took a couple of careful steps closer. He lunged the final distance, snatched the leg, and dashed back out of reach. Padfoot wagged his tail so fast it blurred.

"There you go, boy," Harry spoke in a soft voice reserved for animals. "No tags."

Padfoot didn't look up from the turkey leg. The animagus let out a little woof in reply.

"You're too handsome to be a stray," Harry said moving closer. "Are you lost?"

Padfoot puffed up a bit at the compliment.

"Well behaved, healthy, and smart enough to recognize a compliment," Harry stood straight as he spoke. "Are you someone's familiar?"

Padfoot kept an eye on him as he continued to chew on the leg.

"No," Harry muttered, putting on a show of working it out. "You wouldn't wander so far from your partner." He paused. "You've been following me since I got to Hogsmeade."

Padfoot stiffened.

"Animagus," Harry stated. "Please don't run, I'd rather not force a transformation in public. Plus, you'd cause a scene once the sleeping potion I doused that turkey leg with kicks in."

Padfoot dropped the leg. He leaped back, staring from the discarded food to Harry. The dog let out a little growl in warning. Harry broke and he started to laugh. Padfoot glared at him, huffed, and snatched the remaining turkey leg from where it dropped.

"Why would you be following me?" Harry wondered out loud.

Padfoot huffed but didn't give any further information.

"Fine," Harry said waving a dismissive hand at the dog. "Go report to your master. Just know, I'll kill you the next time we meet if you work for that half-blood with delusions of grandeur."

That caused Padfoot to drop the turkey leg and stare at him.

"That's right," Harry said looking down at the dog. "Your master isn't some ancient Lord. He's the son of a squib and a muggle doused with love potions. Tell him I know, and I'm coming for him."

Harry strode away with purpose. Did he need to put on such a show? Not really, but it was fun. It would give them something to talk about and make it clear he wasn't a Death Eater.

~§~

Harry woke up the next day to the tapping at his window. He stumbled over to the sound to let in the owl. It dropped the letter then stared at him expectantly. Harry plucked a treat from his pocket and tossed one to the owl. The owl snatched it out of the air then flew away without another look back.

Mister Potter,
Your request for a meeting with Lord and Lady Potter has been accepted. This letter will act as a Port Key at precisely Eleven AM for a period of five minutes. Please be aware that in the current climate it is best to keep your wand, or any other personal items, in their place.
With Kind Regards,
Remus Lupin
Steward of House Potter

Harry smiled at the letter. They had made Remus steward. Good for him. Apparently, the reveal of Pettigrew as a Death Eater eased a lot of rough edges. Personally, he would have had a nice little chat with some laced tea just to be safe. Veritaserum was a controlled substance, but there were other concoctions out there that served the same function without raising alarm. They alternatives weren't as powerful and could easily be fought off by someone with rudimentary mental defense. On the plus side, his favorite mixture of magic herbs was nearly tasteless and didn't cause the sort of fugue state that Veritaserum did. It simply helped loosen the tongue.

That gave him a couple of hours to get ready. He took a shower, got dressed, and had breakfast while on autopilot. His instincts made it hard to truly relax. These disconnected moments were the closest he got when he wasn't somewhere he considered safe. A life of conflict didn't leave him untouched.

He had enough awareness about him to keep an eye out for trouble, but not enough to hold a conversation. Madam Rosemerta was busy that morning, so he didn't have to worry about accidentally ignoring her. She was always good for a bit of company if the place wasn't busy. He wasn't sure if he was just that lucky or if it was something she did with all of her customers. She deserved some time off her feet regardless of the reasoning.

Hogsmeade was just waking up and he made it to the Apparation Point easily. Diagon Alley, however, was already on the go. There wasn't much for him to do until meeting Lord and Lady Potter, he had to think of them like that rather than his parents to stay sane. It also reminded him to stay on his toes. Either his passage back in time had caused some unexpected ripples, or he didn't know nearly as much as he had thought he did about the past. No one ever mentioned that his father had taken the Potter Lordship. In fact, he was pretty sure people had told him that it didn't happen. Harry didn't think this was an alternate dimension. He got the impression that Death would have mentioned something about it if that had happened.

Muriel Krauss had already opened her shop. There were a couple of customers milling about when he arrived. Harry chuckled to himself. He had the sneaking suspicion that they were all here for the variety of less-than-legal services Muriel provided.

The shop had a wonderful detection charm targeted for Auror badges specifically. There was a small music box on the counter that played a looping selection of songs. It would swap from sounding like a woodwind instrument to a string version when a badge was detected. Muriel had shown it to him and Hermione one evening after some drinks. That was also the night he learned that she had a beautiful singing voice. Dancing, unfortunately for his feet, was not a skill she could claim.

"Good morning, Muriel," Harry called as he approached her.

"Mister Potter," she replied.

The look she gave to him was not a pleased one. She glared as he came to a stop in front of her, seemingly without a care in the word.

"Is my order complete?" He asked cheerfully. "Wonderful music box by the way. Is that a flute or clarinet?"

"I never asked," she replied narrowing her eyes. "Your order is ready."

She withdrew a simple wooden box from under the counter and placed it in front of him. He removed the lid without bothering to see if the other customers were watching. The iron rod had a silver filigree that ran the length. A charge popped

"The price includes the silver," Muriel spoke before he could. "The material needs a binding medium to ensure the core is stable. While ornate, the pattern allows the core to flow through the entire wand rather than simply along the center."

"I would love to talk about wand crafting with you," Harry said twirling the wand along his fingers. "You do amazing work. It's lighter than I expected."

"I take pride in my work," Muriel said through gritted teeth.

"As well you should," Harry smiled. "Until next time."

Harry flourished the wand, finishing the motion by sliding it into his wrist holster, then he turned and walked out of the store without another word. The other two could decide if the wand he had just picked up was legal or not. Either way, they would probably spend at least another ten to twenty minutes milling around the store until they made their move. He would need to send Muriel a nice bottle of alcohol as an apology.

He whistled a little tune as he strolled back down the street to Diagon. Malfoy had plenty of top-shelf booze that he had grabbed before locking down the manor. It would take a few minutes to identify the poison ones. His progress stalled when he caught sight of a familiar witch.

Andromeda and Bellatrix Black weren't twins, but they might as well have been. The main difference, aside from the penchant for torture and bloodlust, was their hair. Andromeda took care of hers, giving it a nice shine and bounce that would make Muggle women seethe. On the other hand, Bellatrix treated her hair as an annoyance. Harry had thought that the time in Azkaban had played a part in her style, hair and clothing, but that clearly wasn't the case.

Bellatrix, flanked by the Lestrange brothers, strutted down the center of Diagon Alley. People scuttled out of the way. It gave him pause. For some reason he didn't expect to see known Death Eaters out in public. He guessed it made sense. What was the point in cowing the country if you couldn't walk down the street?

Well, he did have a couple of hours to kill before his meeting with his parents. Not to mention he had a lot of nervous energy to work off. Now he just had to figure out how to get to them without causing absolute chaos and needless collateral damage. They hadn't noticed him yet and there was enough crowd cover to avoid them.

Logically, Harry knew he should walk away, or just keep them in sight without engaging. There was the possibility that he could recruit her. She was one of Voldemort's heavy hitters, turning her to his side would be a boon. It had been years since Sirius had died, technically, he was still alive. She could be his weapon to wield against Voldemort and his minions. 

His train of thought ground to a halt as the trio laid eyes on him. The two brothers didn't give him a second look, but Bellatrix gained a feral edge to her gaze. The very same look that was in her eyes when she had killed Sirius. All of the calculation and strategy vanished. Years of grief, anger, and loss bubbled up inside of him.

Bellatrix recognized the fire in his eyes. She let out a loud cackle as she drew her wand. A blast of fire launched through the air at him. Unfortunate people in the path found themselves covered in flame. The Lestrange brothers had their wands out and unleashed a barrage of spells a moment after her. They weren't aiming at him, just anyone nearby. The only small positive in the situation was that the trio weren't using the Killing Curse. Instead, they stuck to ones that caused swathes of damage and chaos. A fleeting thought along the back of his mind wondered if this had been their aim all along.

Harry from years ago would have tried to protect the people, raising shields to block spells, and transfiguring the environment as physical barriers. Time spent hunting down Death Eaters, having his arm explode, and the multiple horrors that he came across had changed him. The people could take care of themselves. They had the tools and should have had a couple of simple spells to make a shield. Instead, they ran around panicking and causing the situation to get worse.

He froze the fire as it got close. It halted in place, still burning, just hanging in the air. Harry turned it back to Bellatrix. He kept the fire frozen, turning it into something akin to molten glass shards only with the mass that came with the material.

Bellatrix dodged the incoming fire, giggling as she moved. One of the Lestrange brothers caught the spell. The shards of fire tore through his exposed flesh and ignited his clothes. Harry hadn't cared to learn either of their names. They were supposedly accomplished duelists and had killed a few Aurors. The Lestrange not on fire stopped aiming at the people and began to try to save his brother.

Harry created an Air Whip and snapped it at the trio. It was a modified version of the Flame Whip that Voldemort liked to use. The spell was rather versatile and could seamlessly swap to the other elements. Air, while not as flashy, had the added bonus of being nearly invisible. Unfortunately, the wand motion was still the same regardless of the element.

Being one of Voldemort's Inner Circle meant that Bellatrix was familiar with the spell. She leaped out of the path, coming to a stop behind a lamp post. The Lestrange not on fire was not as lucky. His head was separated from his shoulders before he knew he was dead. The other rolled along the ground to try to put out the flame himself.

It was just the two of them now. The people in the street had cleared out. It also looked like a couple of the stores had put up some sort of protective shields. That didn't remove the corpses in the street, but it would reduce the total number.

Bellatrix hit one of the bodies with a spell that sent a web of electricity along its limbs. The corpse lurched. It moved in jerky motions as it rose to its feet. Harry flicked his wand at it, grounding the magical electricity, draining the body of the force mobilizing it. It was amazing how many aspects of science carried over.

Harry snapped his wand back, transfiguring a clump of splinters into a cloud of sewing needles and sent them rocketing at Bellatrix. Her eyes widened. She yanked the still-burning Lestrange in front of her, saving herself and ending the wizard.

The momentary interruption in line of sight allowed her to use his own trick against him, with her own flair. She tore a strip of the charred cloak from the now-dead Lestrange, transfigured it into a ragged shard of stone, and launched it at him. It changed to a snake as it got close to him.

Harry smirked as he caught the snake without a care.

§Kill her.§ He ordered sending it back to her.

Bellatrix froze as he spoke the language of snakes. She recovered in time to dodge the flying snake.

"Who are you?" She screamed as she put up a shield.

"The True Heir of Slytherin," Harry growled as he strode toward her.

Her forehead scrunched in confusion at his words. The wand in her hand was still pointed directly at him, but she couldn't concentrate. This wizard she had mistaken for that damned Potter had swiftly killed Rabastan and Rodolphus without a second thought. Rabastan was dead before the needles silenced his pitiful cries. Potter was too much of a good-boy to do such a thing. To further complicate matters, he was a Parseltongue. A blessing only the descendants of Slytherin could claim.

Any further words were interrupted by the sound of multiple pops signaling the arrival of the Aurors. She winced at a sting in her calf but paid no heed to it. Bellatrix glared at him, then popped away, leaving him alone in the street.

Harry smiled as the summoned snake slithered back over to him. He leaned over, allowing the Black Mamba to slide up his arm and rest across his shoulders. The snake preened.

§Good girl.§ Harry gentle stroked its head.

It lowered its head, closed its eyes, and reverted to a strip of charred cloth. Harry sighed and shook his head.

Aurors took in the scene, their wands instantly snapped to point at him. Harry held up his hands. His wand pointed away from the Aurors while held almost daintily between his thumb and index finger.

"Drop the wand!" One Auror yelled.

"Of course," Harry did as instructed.

Muriel was no fool. She knew that if one of her wands were confiscated it would lead back to her. There were only so many wand makers in the country. Even less that could produce such quality work. The wand vanished before it dropped lower than his waist. Instead, one of the disposable wands he had purchased clattered to the ground. The iron and silver slipped into a self-contained pocket of storage that was popular with wizards in the 1800s that had fallen out of style. Mostly because it took considerably longer to draw than a standard wrist holster or inner-robe pocket. Putting a wand away, however, was much faster.

"You?" Amelia Bones asked as she strode over to him.

"Me," Harry smiled.

"Anything you can tell me about this before we take you in for questioning?" She asked.

A couple of Aurors I didn't know flanked her. One held magic suppressing cuffs. He put his hands out in front of him to make it easier.

"I claim the Lestrange Lordship by right of conquest," He announced.

The charred body shifted. Its arm flopped out from underneath it. A slightly less gaudy ring disappeared from the burned finger and appeared on Harry's. Amelia stared at him for a moment. She shook her head and motioned for the Auror holding the cuffs to move forward.

Cleaning out another Death Eater vault was always a good thing. He could always use more money. The fact that it meant Voldemort wouldn't have it anymore was a bonus.

The Auror cuffed him while another picked up the wand.

"Yew with a Wampus Cat Hair core," the Auror that held it said.

Amelia gave him a flat look. Harry shrugged.

~§~

Harry sat in the interrogation room alone. He had been there for a good twenty minutes without anyone coming in yet. His time running raids with the Aurors had given him plenty of experience with their methods. They hadn't removed the cuffs, which meant they considered him dangerous.

As per standard operating procedure, two Aurors entered the room. He recognized both of them. Harry nodded at them in greeting.

"Auror Moody, Auror Bones," Harry said calmly.

"Quite the scene you made," Moody clanked as he stalked around the room. "Ten dead and fourteen injured. Two of which needed to be sent to St. Mungo's."

Harry nodded.

"Anything you want to tell us, Lord Lestrange?" Amelia spoke up.

Harry let out a soft chuckle.

"I was in Diagon Alley and saw a woman that seemed to recognize me," He said. "People have been doing that a lot lately. A moment later, her and two companions started to cast spells. They didn't seem all that bothered about all the people around. One of them tried to roast me with some fire. I, like any sane person, didn't want that to happen, so I fought back."

"Fought back?" Moody snapped. "We have witnesses that say you killed two of them and sent the other running."

"She ran because your people arrived," He countered. "I don't blame you lot for being late. Time is hard to gauge in the thick of things. You know how it is."

"And you do?" Moody glared at him.

"I've had an interesting life," Harry shrugged.

"Such as?" Amelia spoke.

"Nothing to do with this event," Harry replied evenly.

"You knew the two wizards enough to claim their Lordship," Amelia continued. "Strange that."

"I recognized the head," Harry flashed her a sly smile. "It was focused on other things until then."

The two Aurors stared at him for a moment. Silence stretched on as they waited for him to say something more. It was amazing how effective the technique could be. Most people felt a need to talk simply to fill the silence. Harry looked from one to the other in expectation.

"Am I under arrest?" Harry asked.

"You killed two marked Death Eaters," Moody said.

"Not to mention the lives you saved," Amelia added with a short glare at Moody.

Harry held up his hands for them to unlock the cuffs. Amelia tapped the metal. They dropped to the table with a loud clank.

"Do you know what time it is?" Harry asked.

"Ten 'til Eleven," Moody answered.

"Thanks," Harry replied. "I've got an appointment that I don't want to miss."

The two led me out of the back into the public area. Aside from Moody and Amelia, he didn't recognize any of the other Aurors in the office.

"You did good," Amelia said as Harry started toward the elevator. "There aren't many people who will stand and fight. No one wants to admit it, but we're at war."

"Losing, more like," Moody growled.

"Your little club isn't doing any better than the Ministry," Amelia countered.

Harry stole a quick look at Amelia. She seemed a little annoyed at Moody but didn't say anything. Apparently, the Order wasn't a 'secret' as people made it out to be. Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose.

"We're fighting," Moody narrowed his eyes at her. "That's more than some."

"Well," Harry clapped his hands. "It was nice to see you again. I need to get somewhere that I can safely use a Port Key. Is there an area for that in the building?"

He knew full well that there was a spot on each level just for such a thing. Letting them know he had that information, and the fact that he could walk through the Auror department blindfolded -fire whiskey, overstaffing, and a slow shift led to some very stupid choices- would not do him any favors.

"This way," Amelia said motioning him to follow.

Harry followed after. They didn't speak. It felt like she wanted to say something, but didn't Harry wasn't going to press. He had other things to worry about. The meeting with his parents was now in the forefront in his mind.

~§~

Bellatrix stumbled through the mansion. Her thoughts were hard to gather. She knew she needed to tell the Dark Lord about what had happened. He had been elsewhere when she had arrived. She took her frustration out on some low blood recruit that looked at her.

It had been over an hour now. All she could do was walk around the manor, waiting for the Dark Lord to return. The day had started out fine. Her master had given her something special to keep safe. Rodolphus had said their family vault was the best place for it. The fact that those disgusting creatures would be unknowingly further the noble cause.

They hadn't planned on terrorizing the people in Diagon Alley, but the opportunity was too good to pass up when she had seen Potter. He wasn't wearing his Auror robes and appeared alone. A perfect little gift for the Dark Lord that had fallen into her lap. She would deliver the blood traitors' head to earn his praise.

Then she met those emerald eyes. They were beautiful, the color of her masters' favorite spell. She recognized the rage and hatred in them as well. This wasn't James Potter, she didn't know who he was, but she knew a killer when she saw one. She shivered at the memory of those eyes burning into her own with the all-consuming need to kill.

Bellatrix knew people thought she was mad. She probably was a little, but that didn't mean she was a fool. This wizard that claimed to be the True Heir of Slytherin was dangerous. Rodolphus and Rabastan had killed as many Aurors and traitors as she had. Combined, at least.

He fought like a nightmare made flesh. Not once did he bother with the worthless chattel in the street. His sole focus was on killing her. It sparked a fire within her. She wanted to track him down, not only for the chance to fight him once more, but to punish him for slandering her Dark Lord.

Bellatrix stumbled a couple of steps. She reached out to brace herself. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to clear the blurriness from her vision. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Her legs went out from under her. She clawed back to her feet.

There was something she needed to tell her master. First, she just needed a little sleep. No one bothered her as she trudged through the halls. She moved in circles, making the same turns repeatedly. The few Death Eaters that would approach her were elsewhere.

Finally, she found a chair to rest, completely unaware that she had walked by the room at least four times already. Bellatrix dropped into the seat. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

Voldemort arrived an hour later. By then the Black Mamba venom had done its work. Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black was no more.

–  NOTE –  The wand storage is from Hogwarts Legacy.

– NOTE #2 – Apologies for the lateness. Illness knocked me flat for a few days. I had a completely different version of this chapter as well. It didn't feel right, so I rewrote it a couple of times.