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Chapter 41: Tell me Sweet Little Lies

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Erinyes Bartleby had been absolutely right, this was truly hell, and he was trapped in it with no way out. Percy Weasley could barely keep his badly shaking legs beneath him he was so frightened. Upon his arrival at the Ministry he had received a quick medical exam and emergency treatment. The flap of skin that had once been his scrotum had been cut away, along with the shattered remnants of his testicles.

No other life threatening injuries had been found so he was forwarded to an interrogation room where his wrists had been closely shackled above his head. He was permitted no rest, or a drink of desperately craved water. The stone room he was in had a nearby sink which dripped water. He could see the droplets falling from the Fawcett and hear them splatter against the basin, but he couldn’t reach it to get a drink. Every cell in his traumatized body screamed at him for water, his tongue felt like it had swelled ten times over in his mouth.

The pain from the beating the IG had given him had been devastating. His broken nose had been hurriedly reset by the healers, but the swelling forced him to breathe through his split lips. Ever breath of air was a ragged gasp that caused his body to heave, which made his bruised kidney throb and ache. At first, he had been relieved when he saw his interrogators come into the room. They were faces that he knew, his fellow Gryffindors from Hogwarts, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. He begged for a drink of water, but hopes of a sympathetic response were soon dashed as they showed no inclination to ease his plight. His pleas for relief not only fell on deaf ears, but angered his tormenters.

“Shut your filthy hole you cocksucking traitorous git,” shouted Katie as she took off her metal studded leather belt and doubled it in her hand. “I haven’t forgotten the time you so piously caught me in the restricted section and offered to let me out of detention if I’d blow you in the prefect’s reading room. One more whine out of you and I’ll give you something to squeal about.”

A portable Pensieve was set up before Percy to collect the memories drawn from his mind. Those thought would be used as evidence to convict him, they would send him to the Dementors, and they would let his family know the full extent of his shame. Angelina stepped behind him and began probing his mind. Percy focused with all his remaining concentration on keeping his mind clouded. He was as much ashamed of the truth coming out, as he was afraid of the consequences he would face. Angelina realized that a little more motivation to cooperate with the procedure was necessary. She gave a curt nod to her colleague. The first target of choice in convincing a suspect to open up their mind was unavailable, but that was not an unanticipated event. Katie had dealt with suspects before who were already eunuchs, there was more than one way motivate someone to talk, and Katie knew most of them. She quickly stepped up to Percy and placed the tip of a metal tipped stiletto heel on the first joint of Percy’s big toe.

“We would appreciate it, Percy, if you would cooperate with our investigation, please do help us with this,” Katie said in a bureaucratic monotone as she shifted her weight to apply bone-crushing pressure on the sensitive joint. Percy suddenly felt like there was a thunderstorm inside his brain and it was sending lightening bolts of pure pain throughout his nervous system. Percy squealed like a wounded animal.

“And if this doesn’t do the trick then there are nine more to work on, and let’s not forget the fingers are available after that,” hissed Angelina in Percy’s ear.

The process was brutal, but effective. Percy’s will to resist collapsed, he could stand no more. Resistance was futile. The combined exhaustion, pain, and terror left Percy nearly insane and helpless to stop the probe. All his memories were laid open to inspection and retrieval in the Pensieve. Then he was left hanging painfully in position to await his fate. As he hung there sobbing, Percy knew that the Inquisition had what it wanted, it had what he knew about Fudge activities and his own part in them. It was more than enough to send them both to the Dementors.

The full report was immediately given to Bartleby and Hooch by Angelina and Katie, with a shocked just-arrived Hermione present. Hermione had never really got on with Percy, and would otherwise not care if he lived or died, except this was Ginny’s brother. His treason would devastate Molly and Arthur, and the rest of the family.

“The memories show he was lying about his involvement,” said Angelina. “He knew that the information he was passing was secret Ministry security information. Fudge did tell him that it was to be used to discredit the current Minister by showing supposed lapses in security scheduling and understaffing. Percy was told the person he was giving it to worked for the Daily Prophet as a scandal sheet reporter. The hidden agenda was to restore Fudge to power, and Percy would rise with him as promised.”

“Did Percy truly believe that Fudge was being a whistle-blower?” asked Madam Bartleby.

“No,” said Angelina. “He recognized the person he gave the package to as a Slytherin from Hogwarts who had nothing to do with the paper. He had doubts and misgivings immediately afterwards, but was afraid to say or do anything.”

“If he had come forward at that point we could have changed the codes, or even set a trap,” said Madam Hooch. “He is culpable in the deaths of 23 Aurors; we’ve send people downstairs for a lot less.”

“Yes, but we need him to get to Fudge,” said Bartleby, “and if Voldemort has any further information needs he’ll return to Fudge, who’ll return to Percy to handle it. Voldemort’s got them both by the nuts already, if they refuse he’ll see to it they are exposed. Fudge knows what will happen to him if Voldemort gives him up, and he knows he already has Percy involved.”

“That and he’s been buggering Percy,” said Katie. “Percy is as terrified of his family finding out about that as anything else.”

“That leads to a sticky problem,” said Bartleby, “if we hang on to Percy then Fudge will soon miss him and do a runner. If we catch him and try him that’ll lead to scandal, plus we lose the opportunity to trap Voldemort. Percy is so dysfunctional now that if we let him go he’ll give himself away the moment Fudge sees him.”

“He’s still down there crying and babbling in the holding cell right now,” said Katie. “We need to ease up on him if we want to keep mind and body intact for the Wizengamot.”

“There is still no way to have him ready to show up for work anytime soon and not be detected as turned,” said Angelina. “He’s too traumatized and injured for even an Imperious curse to not be noticeable.”

“That’s my fault,” admitted Bartleby. “I shouldn’t have hurt him as badly as I did, I just lost control, but it felt so damn good. We can buy a little time by sending a fake owl to Fudge from Percy saying he is still too distressed over the funeral to come in tomorrow. That’ll buy us maybe a full day.”

“Question,” asked Katie. “What about a substitute using polyjuice potion?”

“Not practical,” replied Hooch. “Fudge isn’t that stupid. Everybody knows it only lasts an hour. If you see anybody taking a swig every hour you know what’s happening. We’ll just have to pull Fudge in and take what we can from him.”

“There is another way,” said Hermione, and all eyes went to her. “You need someone, or something, that can take on the actual form and memories of Percy Weasley, and hold them over a long period of time. Be indistinguishable from the real thing, and can be set up within a day. It needs to be able to take on Percy’s routine and duties, including the special sexual duties he has been doing for Fudge without flinching.”

It took Hooch a moment to catch on, but she soon realized that Hermione meant that a changling elf could become Percy. A glance at the others in the room saw that they had caught Hermione’s drift as well.

“The problem there is that the elves only obey their masters,” said Angelina, “and the goblins have always remained neutral in a wizard’s fight. They’ve never let us use one of their elves as an agent before.”

“Even if they did,” added Katie, “can you imagine what the price would be for 24/7 access to an elf?”

Madam Bartleby made a knowing wink towards Hooch and Hermione, “The goblins owe me a favor or two for certain legal indiscretions I’ve overlooked in the past. I think I can arrange for some assistance at a very affordable price if it clears the books of old debts. I am going to put you two on arranging that for me after I debrief you.”

Turning to Katie and Angelina, Bartleby said, “Get Percy in a secure healing ward and make him reasonably comfortable. Make sure he doesn’t try to do himself in; I need him alive and coherent. Have the Pensieve with his memories ready for use if our comrades are as persuasive as we hope they are with the owners. Also, you two are not to talk to anyone not in this room about this without my specific authorization.”

After they left, Madam Bartleby turned to Hooch and Hermione. “Get Potter to loan us an elf off the record to become Percy. I don’t want a paper trail leading back to us if this should become a huge cockup. Harry will probably agree to help us without a fuss. If he doesn’t, then tell him that the next person to see him will be me, and I’ll have a bunch of questions he won’t want to answer. That should do it.”

The next morning Percy Weasley walked through the main portals into the Ministry of Magic building to begin his usual workday. As per usual, he had submitted himself and his wand to a scrupulous security search by the Aurors guarding the access to the Ministry. He and his wand perfectly matched the magical imprint in the system, placed there by the Inquisition, for that of Percy Weasley. On his way to his office, by the route he always took, he greeted acquaintances as he always did. In the elevator he made the usual small talk; as always, most of his co-workers considered him to be nothing more than Fudge’s suckarse and wouldn’t bother speaking to him. The few who did speak to him were, for the most part, his father’s old friends, and they spoke only as a family courtesy.

Arriving on the eighth floor, the doors to the Interagency Cooperation Bureau opened and Percy strode in to take his place behind his small desk in the corner. The first 20 minutes of his day were spent listening to a tongue lashing from Fudge for having missed all of the previous day for personal reasons. To reinforce his dominance over his butt-boy, Fudge had Percy strip naked and kneel before him. Percy was required to take Fudge’s rather smallish cock into his mouth and suck him to near orgasm several times. Then Percy was required to bend over across Fudge’s desk while Fudge sodomized him roughly. Once Fudge had ejaculated, Percy was then required to kneel again and lick Fudge’s cock clean. Only then was he allowed to dress and return to work, but warnings of more severe punishment were given if Percy took unauthorized leaves again.

As he returned to his desk amid the stares of his co-workers, Jizzlobber, better known to Mistress Hooch as Slave Dick, saw that Master had given him a truly unusual assignment. But even if Master had not ordered him to help Mistress Hooch, he would have volunteered to do this service. He knew that Fudge was an ally of those who would harm his good Master, and of him who had killed his beautiful Poontang. For the love of Master, and to avenge the murder of his beloved wife, he would not fail.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“Umpf…, umpf… ugh, ugh … ahhhhh,” sighed Lord Voldemort as he ejaculated into Pansy Parkinson. As the last wave of pleasure left him, he slid his cock from her and began to redress himself. The girl was all but forgotten once his lust was sated.

“May I serve you in some additional way, my Lord?” asked Pansy.

“No! That will be all for the time being,” replied Voldemort brusquely. “Leave us.”

“Yes, my Lord,” replied Pansy. “My Lord I would ask a favor of you before I go.”

“What is it, girl?”

“I would like to contact my family, Sir,” said Pansy.

“And why would you want to leave our safekeeping to contact those outside our circle?” asked Voldemort while scanning Pansy’s mind to detect an attempt at defection or treachery.

“To let them know that I am safe, my Lord,” she replied using her Inquisition training to its maximum to shield her true thoughts and project innocent ones for him to read. “I’ve been here for over a week now, my Lord. I need some fresh clothing and toiletries. I want to keep myself attractive and clean so that I may pleasure you with my presence. Just a short time, Sir, I promise I’ll be very careful.”

Pansy’s appearance was of no importance to Voldemort. He considered the girl to be no more than a mere cunt, a convenience for the venting of his excess bodily fluids, no different than pissing in a toilet. This caused him to underestimate her abilities. His mental scan of her confirmed that his original estimations were entirely correct, he saw the normal vanity a stupid schoolgirl would have for her looks, and an infatuation with serving him. Still he did not entirely trust her motives, but he was forced to accede that he enjoyed the sex. If it would keep the little cunt happy, he would let her out of the cage for a few moments, but on a damned short leash.

“We will permit you to leave for that purpose provided you return by morning,” he said curtly.

“Thank you, my Lord,” replied Pansy. “Will you please instruct Professor Snape to tell me the location of your headquarters so I may return here once I have left?”

“That will not be necessary,” said Voldemort as he signaled for Snape. Snape appeared in a few seconds taking in the situation, and giving the still naked Pansy a thorough looking over.

“Yes, my Lord, what is your will?”

“I am permitting our servant here to leave us to attend personal business until dawn; she will require an escort to protect her who knows our location.”

“Is that the wisest course, my Lord?” questioned Snape as tactfully as he dared. “It is known by the Ministry that she was involved in the deaths of the Weasley girl and Longbottom. They may have the Parkinson home under observation. There could be danger for us if she is captured and scanned by the Inquisition.”

“Obviously, I have considered that possibility, Severus,” replied Voldemort coldly. Severus was probably the only one whom he would tolerate to question his decisions, but his tolerance was thin. “That is why we want you to give her a dose of the special Belle Morte extract you have in your potions lab. As we recall it takes three hours for it to reach lethal strength once taken, and there is no antidote save for that you have in your lab. If she is captured, or other unfortunate events befall her, then she will be abandoned and allowed to die in our behalf, preserving what information she has. You shall assign an escort to follow her, if any untowards events are observed the escort will return here immediately, leaving her stranded with no way back to the antidote.”

“As you wish it, my lord, I will assign the task of escort to Wormtail,” said Snape. He had no choice but to obey. Despite how it seemed outwardly, the Dark Lord was infatuated with the girl, but only for her body to satisfy his lust. Of course, he would grow tired of her in time and kill her as he had done to others, but for now, she relieved old needs that Voldemort hated to admit he still had.

Snape’s principle concern was not the Dark Lord’s pleasure, but that Pansy’s presence also served his agenda. She kept the Dark Lord calm by giving him sex, and she kept Bellatrix’s attention divided. Bella was sure to try and extract lethal revenge on Snape for the beating he had given her at Hogwarts; but her insane jealousy against the younger girl being picked by the Dark Lord as his consort kept her occupied with plots against her rival.

There was also a strange feeling in the back of Snape’s mind that troubled him about her. He couldn’t quite place it. She seemed so calm about everything that had happened. Draco had nearly shit himself when he was brought into the Dark Lord’s presence the first time, Goyle and Crabbe still nearly did. Parkinson had offered to suck his cock, and eventually did. Why wasn’t she frightened? Did she think the fur lined slit between her thighs was some kind of special protective talisman? She’d find out different the first time she fucked up and got crucio’d in the tits by the Dark Lord.

“There now, all is made well,” said Voldemort. “Go prepare yourself for your journey, Pansy.”

Pansy knew that she was now on a very short leash as she dressed herself. Her gambit to report Voldemort’s position to Bartleby had failed, but it had been worth a try. Voldemort seemed to have thought of a very effective counter move, she wondered how he would act if he had actually been suspicious of her. Then she realized that was a stupid question, if that were the case, she’d already be dead. All she could do now was try to find some way to leave a message at a drop point in her family home where it would be found.

Wormtail turned up dirty and disheveled as usual. He disgusted Pansy to the utmost, no wonder his animagus form was a rat; the only thing that better fitted him would be a cockroach. Wormtail looked to have be awakened out of bed for the job and stared at Pansy with the oddest look on his unshaven face. Informed of the particulars of his task he simply stared at Pansy and grinned. Her life was soon to be in his hands.

The potion was in a small red vial, and was laid before her by Snape to drink. “In two hours you’ll begin to feel sick, in two and one half the pains will begin and quickly intensify. In three hours you will die, and it will be painful. Each batch of the potion is brewed to be unique. It has a variety of toxins and amounts of each used in it along with the Belle Morte extract, this produces thousands of combinations, all of them lethal. The antidote is brewed along side the potion and requires precise knowledge of the ingredients and amounts used in the extract to counter the lethal effect.”

Snape held up a green colored vial before her. “Once you drink the potion in front of you the clock is ticking. In three hours you will die unless you drink the antidote contained in this vial, which will remain safely in my vest pocket until you return. If Wormtail returns at any time without you, or he’s not back within the allotted time, I’ll simply smash it against the wall. There is no reprieve, no excuses accepted, and no fuck-ups allowed. Also, as you will not need it out there, I want you to leave your wand here.”

Pansy calmly took up the red vial and drank its contents. “I guess I need to get going then,” Pansy said as she laid her wand on the table beside Snape.

“Then go to the entry,” said Snape. “I need to give directions to Wormtail for your safety; he’ll join you in a moment.”

Snape and Wormtail watched as Pansy left the room, when she was beyond earshot Snape turned to Wormtail. “Something is wrong in this, she’s acting too calm, and she should be a lot more frightened than she is. Watch her closely, at the slightest hint of defection or treachery kill her and make your way back using at least three jump points and two different methods of transport. That should make it hard to trace you.”

Wormtail joined Pansy in the entryway and put his arm tightly around her so he could disapparate her with him. He made sure his fingers went around the soft curves of her breast as he groped her body. Pansy gave him a disgusted look, but to no avail. Wormtail knew that he was Pansy’s only lifeline to seeing the Sun rise. Pansy felt the pull of disapparation and when her vision cleared found herself inside a dirty frame house.

It was old and the wind moved through it making an odd sound. Around them was old style covered furniture, they were in a bedroom. It took only a second for Pansy to put the pieces together, Wormtail was about to demand sex with her in payment for returning her to the antidote. She ran to get away from him, it would cost her life, but she wasn’t going to shag a rat.

“Calm down, little girl, you’ve got Uncle Peter all wrong. He’s not wanting to stick his nasty old dick between your pretty thighs. He’s your friend; in fact he’s already saved your life.”

“And just how has ‘Uncle Peter’ done that?”

“By keeping his trap shut about what he saw the day following the raid on Hogwarts. He got trapped inside the castle by the Aurors so he turns himself into a rat he does. Then he hides inside the hospital ward walls waiting for everyone to clear off so he can slip out and return home. He thinks about what a great cock up the whole raid turned out to be, how a lot of his colleagues are dead, and a lot more will soon wish they were. He thinks that maybe he’s on the losing side. Then something else draws his attention. I saw it all, girlie, I know about you being an agent of the Inquisition. The Dragon’s own personal pet you are. I know that the Weasley girl and the Longbottom boy were handed over to Potter and the Granger girl, who’s also one of your lot. You are trying to contact them aren’t you?”

“Yes," said Pansy, seeing that he must have really seen her to know those details. “So why am I still alive, Uncle Peter?”

“Because there is a reason why your Uncle Peter’s animagus form is a rat. Disgusting as much as you may think we are, we rats are survivors. I got the Potter’s killed 16 years ago and their best friend blamed for it. I survived undetected by any of you lot for 14 years. Rats always have an out available to them, and I have mine. You don’t want to die in this war; neither do I. I am going to give you a free hand for the next two hours, go wherever you want, do what you want. Come back here at that time, I’ll say whatever cover story you want me to say to Snape if your boss agrees to the terms I have. You get your antidote.”

“And what terms does ‘Uncle Peter’ have?” asked Pansy.

“Complete absolution,” said Wormtail. “Peter Pettigrew is officially dead, just like you did for the Weasley girl. He leaves the country to never return, and is never heard of again. No one is hunting him.”

“What makes you think we’ll keep our word to you when this is over and we have you?”

“I didn’t say anything about you having me when this is over, did I?” asked Wormtail. “I’m not that daft yet. No, I’ll make my own way out if it comes to that, the deal is nobody hunts for me, especially Potter. I’m just allowed to disappear, presumed dead.”

“I can’t make promises, you know that. I’ll see what I can do though. Are you going to stay here, wherever the hell we are?”

“We are in the old Shrieking Shack outside what used to be Hogsmeade. I have some poking around I need to do too. Make sure your mates return you here within the two-hour limit before the sickness sets in, the antidote just stops you from dying. Where would you like me to drop you off, somewhere near the Ministry?”

Pansy knew that all the previous access codes would have been changed by now so she couldn’t come in safely to a Ministry facility. If she surrendered to an Auror she risked having it leak out, not to mention being killed on sight by those hex happy pricks, like that dumbarse Potter had nearly done her. Without her wand she couldn’t send a patronus to the IG. There was no way around it, she would have to trust someone and hope for the best.

Pansy remembered from reviewing personnel files for the service that Angelina Johnson had a nice high-rise flat near the Ministry building. She did a lot of entertaining there with various companions from Hogwarts, and a bunch of young muggle lovers. Angelina was dangerous, but she was also confident in her abilities. She would want Pansy as a prisoner, and would feel she could take her alive.

Pansy had Wormtail disapparate her to London, then he left to attend his own affairs. Pansy waited to see that he was really gone and then quickly walked the few remaining blocks to Angelina’s building. Entry into the building required visitors to ring the occupant and be buzzed in from their flat. Standing there in the doorway Pansy took a deep breath, and removed the Inquisitor’s badge she kept hidden in her robes. She then stood in front of the security camera. She pushed the buzzer to ring Angelina’s room, and raised her hands above her head with her badge facing behind her.

“Yes,” came the deep, but feminine voice a few seconds later.

“It’s Pansy Parkinson,” she said as calmly as she could, then she steeled herself to receive a stupefy curse straight into her back. As expected, there was a pop within two seconds just behind her as Angelina apparated there to cover her. Pansy remained rock still as she knew Angelina was accessing her as a threat, and checking that she was alone. A second later the entry door to the building was flung open. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet stood there with drawn wands ready to kill her if she tried to escape.

“What the hell …” she heard Angelina say under her breath. “She’s carrying a badge.”

“May I come in out of the open, please, before I’m spotted?”

“Step inside slowly, hands in full view,” said Angelina with the tip of her wand at the back of Pansy’s head. Pansy was quickly searched for weapons, then apparated up to Angelina’s flat. There Pansy quickly explained about herself and what was happening to the three flabbergasted girls. Determining that her badge was real the three girls escorted Pansy to the Ministry building and placed her in an interrogation room to await the arrival of Madam Bartleby.

“Whatever it is you’re up to I sure hope it was worth Ginny and Neville’s lives,” said an angry Alicia. “As well as those lost at Hogwarts.”

“Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom aren’t dead. Their funerals were fakes. As for Hogwarts, I was the one who saw to it that the alarm was given to the Ministry when the attack was underway. I was the one who put the Dark Mark over the school to warn everyone in Hogsmeade. How many more would have died if the attack could have unfolded in secrecy as it had been planned?”

“And that is the truth, ladies,” said Madam Bartleby as she entered the room and all eyes went to her. “As bad as the attack was, Pansy probably saved a great many lives. Potter and the Auror’s got all the credit in the press, as per usual; but they only got there so quickly because of Pansy giving the alarm. She also rescued Ginny and Neville at great risk to herself. In addition, she’s been operating under deep cover as the Agency’s principle informant on Death Eater activity inside Hogwarts for nearly two years now.”

“Are Ginny and Neville recovering all right?” Pansy asked while noticing that the attitudes of those around her had greatly changed in her favor.

“Yes, they’ve done extremely well under the treatment Madam Pomfrey is giving them I’m told. She'd even sewed Neville back together last I heard. Tell me, dear, are you close to Voldemort?”

“He has a small wart with two hairs sticking out of it on his tiny little dick, just behind the head,” said Pansy. “Is that close enough to him for you?”

She noted the looks of shock and disgust on the women’s faces. Alicia now looked like she was going to vomit and left the room.

“You poor darling,” said Bartleby as she hugged Pansy’s head to her breast. “How did you manage to get away from him?”

Pansy quickly explained what had happened so far and drew memories of the experience into a Pensieve for examination. Hopefully something that she might have missed would provide a clue for others trying to track Voldemort. Pansy finished by explaining the deal she had made to leave and how time was short. Then she told Bartleby about what Wormtail knew and his offer. By the time she had completed her report it had been over an hour since taking the poisoned potion. Bartleby had Angelina and Katie round up some additional clothing and toiletries for her that wouldn’t arouse suspicion while Pansy took a proper shower and had a bite to eat.

With ten minutes to spare Pansy was ready to return. Bartleby handed her a hairbrush and two small sealed packages to conceal in her robes. “These are the new versions of the miniaturized field kits dear, something the enchanter section Johnnies have been working on. This package has standard protective and healing potions for you in it. The second has poisons, offensive potions, cursed items, and tracking devices. Instructions are inside the package, and both packages have a counter enchantment for all known magic sensing spells.”

“And the hairbrush?” asked Pansy.

“Well, one it’s a hairbrush, your hair was quite a mess when you came here; two if you twist the handle counterclockwise while saying the incantation ‘Defenda Mia’ the brush end slides off revealing a miniature Black Wand concealed inside the handle.”

“A miniature Black Wand?” said a skeptical Pansy.

“Focus hard and stay close to what you’re trying to kill and it’ll work as good as the regular sized thing. The brush body provides shielding and camouflage.”

“What about Peter Pettigrew?”

“Tell him our answer is yes, if he can escape on his own we will not bother hunting him.”

“All right, and by the way, I want a raise after this job is over,” Pansy said forcing a grin. “And a bloody big one at that too.”

“You know what our budget is like, dear; can’t I just get you a pretty medal like an Order of Merlin or something?”

The laugh that went around broke the tension as Katie apparated Pansy back to the rendezvous point with Pettigrew. Bartleby knew that there was a very good chance she’d never see Pansy alive again. It hurt her to send brave young men and women to their deaths. Everyone was so keen to condemn the Inquisition when someone was harassed or tortured, and maybe they should, it kept the service honest that those who received such treatment deserved it. But no one ever really praised them when information they gathered saved lives, or brought the wicked to justice. The present war was one of intelligence. Without the codes that Fudge and Percy Weasley had passed to him, Voldemort could not have taken down Azkaban so easily. It all hinged on intelligence, and the materials Pansy had risked her life to get to them were a boon. They would not be wasted.

Madam Bartleby then turned to the women there. She swore them to complete secrecy as to what they had seen and heard. An intelligence analysis team was called and put to work on the Pensieve memories. By morning they would have a report ready.

Then she went home to sleep in bed beside her husband for a few hours before rising to start another day in the office. She was feeling so tired, and just a little bit guilty about gelding the Weasley boy without a trial or a hearing. But her frustrations and anger had taken over. She missed her evenings with Peter, he had calmed her. She made up her mind that as soon as this war was over, assuming Voldemort was defeated, she would retire and just do something else. Something that allowed her to sleep regular hours with her husband, and play with her grandchildren on weekends. She wasn’t sure yet what that was, but it wasn’t what she had now.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Peter Pettigrew used his free time wisely that night. Leaving the Inquisition spy to return to her masters, he returned to Godric’s Hollow. There he stood outside the dilapidated frame house that had once belonged to James and Lily Potter. The top floor where the Dark Lord had failed to kill the boy was wrecked, with a large hole in the end. The rest of the house was grown up with brush reclaiming the site, and the structure was slowly falling apart. However, it wasn’t what could be seen that Peter was interested in, he wondered about the unseen. Was the secret still safe, was it still there?

It seemed so long ago now since that night. The plan had seemed so perfect. James would die, Sirius would be blamed. Lily would be placed under the Imperious curse and made his fawning bitch as his reward. He had waited so expectantly outside for permission to claim her. He had planned to prop James’ dead body up in a chair and let his dead eyes watch as Peter took his beautiful Lily in their marriage bed. Then he had heard the scream as Lily died and he just stood there in shock. A few seconds later came the explosion that had rocked the house. Peter knew the plan had gone bugger all, and it was time to escape.

The answers were here and Peter already knew some of them. James had suddenly come into a fortune, he and Lily left here eventually for somewhere else. Somewhere else they didn’t want Peter or others to know about. But before they left, when they still lived here, they had secretly added a section on to the house for security when they had learned Voldemort might be after them and the boy. James had a basement and sub-basement added and outfitted as a sort of panic room. Lily also had a potions lab down there and worked on her perfume. In rat form, Peter had spied on them and seen the hidden entrance, and how to enter, he had found the drain pipes and made his way in to the area; he had watched them have sex down there with the baby in his little crib beside them.

But soon afterward, James and Lily had nearly stopped using the frame house nearly all together. They had started going somewhere else, another house, one of the big villa complexes the big shots in town kept maybe. It was the only thing that made sense. Only at the very end had they come back here. It had been James’ second worse decision, the worst being to make Peter his secret keeper.

Peter had wondered why James had come back to the old place, and only one answer made sense. If he was to be the secret keeper, then he had to know the secret. James would have had to tell Peter where he and Lily were now living, and rather than confide that information to his old friend he had come back to the old house to stay. James had not wanted Peter to know about his other life. That part of his plan, at least, had worked.

Peter had racked his brains on what this other life and the source of James’ wealth had been, but only the events he had witnessed in the past few months gave him the breakthrough he had sought. There was only one possible answer, as incredulous as it sounded, James was the owner of the Golden Unicorn, and on his and Lily’s death its ownership had passed to Harry. No wonder no one saw the boy around, who would want to leave there? He had everything a seventeen year old boy could ever want. Moreover, there was other property too that the Unicorn controlled that the wealthy could lease.

As he stood there alone in the dark, Peter Pettigrew began to laugh. Only now did Peter realize the full scope of his vengeance against James Potter. He hadn’t just killed him and deprived him of Lily; he had deprived him of incredible wealth and pleasure. He smiled to himself, he knew Potter’s secret.

Entering the house carefully, Peter went to the cupboard closet just by the entry to the kitchen. The door was ajar and hanging on the hinges. Whatever it had held of any value had been stolen long ago. The back wall was made of tiles with pictures of animals. Taking out his wand, Peter tapped the tile with the picture of a stag and doe on it. Slowly the tiles opened to reveal a passageway to a set of stairs leading down. From the look of things, nobody had traveled this way in a very long time. At the base of the steps Peter illuminated the scene with his wand. He smiled as he realized that it was all still here.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The next few weeks passed quietly for Harry. The chill of coming winter was settling in more and more on the land. November passed and December began. Soon it would be nearing Christmas. Harry thought back to his ultimatum to Professor McGonagall of what had been only a few weeks before, but seemed an eternity now, that he was leaving Hogwarts at the Christmas break. That Harry had been Head Boy now seemed ancient history; Harry was no longer a boy in any sense. He realized that he was a man. He had fathered a child who would arrive the next summer, he was chief operator of what was one of the most profitable magi run enterprises in Britain, he had people who called him boss, many older than him, and followed his orders. And, he was heading a private Order to defeat Voldemort. Harry Potter was carrying a man-sized set of responsibilities on his shoulders.

Harry didn’t waste the time while Ginny and Neville completed their convalescence. He trained daily as Moody had taught him; he worked out to remain strong. He practiced dueling with Balzhoff and Remus at least once a day. Harry went to Fleur and asked her to teach him how to open the void. Fleur was a bit hesitant, this was magic that had been passed through her family line, but she was bonded to Harry and agreed to do so. Harry's first attempt at opening the void was similar to trying to make a patronus, not much happened, but he began working regularly on it. He felt this was a skill that he needed to master.

For the most part, the villa was empty at this time. Everyone was busy working or shopping, or visiting with family as the holidays approached. Madam Hooch was busy with her work. Harry had been happy to loan her the elf she had asked for, in fact Slave Dick, as she called him, had asked Harry to let him serve her. Though Harry didn’t have a clue what the elf was being used for.

Sometimes the two of them, Hooch and Balzhoff, showed up to enjoy a little quality time together at the villa on some evenings. Madam Pomfrey started taking up with Remus, nursing him through that time of the month when he underwent his werewolf transformation during the night. Harry was happy to see Remus get interested in someone again.

Luna recovered to the point that she was quietly released and went home to stay with her father for a few days before returning to the villa for the weekend. Neville’s injury showed physical signs of full recovery, but whether he could fully function would be unknown until he tried them out.

Ginny started coming out of the void more and staying with Harry during the days. She and Neville got to secretly meet with their family at Grimmauld Place several times a week. There seemed to have been no more interest in the press about them. Harry figured that the Ministry, particularly Bartleby, was orchestrating events so that there was more interesting news to follow than how the families of the dead were coping.

Ginny and Harry would take long walks in the snowy woods outside the Garden of Delights where they could stay concealed. Harry retrieved the motorcycle from the Delacour’s home and brought it over to his villa so that he could take Ginny for rides over the countryside away from the Hollow during the warmer days, but as December began, the cold finally settled in permanently. The motorbike was put away until the return of spring.

Four weeks after the attack on Hogwarts had occurred Desiree told Harry that she thought that Ginny and Neville were mentally ready to return to the real world. Ginny and Neville were sent home to stay with their family for a couple of weeks. Harry visited Ginny regularly, eventually he convinced her parents to let her return to Grimmauld Place to stay without them making a fuss. This was mostly thanks to Mr. Weasley. This was wonderful news to Harry, as now it meant that he and Ginny could be together all the time, especially at night back at the villa.

It was the day Harry had dreamed of, though still early, it was the absolute best Christmas present he had ever received. He and Ginny could truly be together now as a couple. He had the elves restock the closets in the flat with his Mother’s clothes and shoes. They would resize to fit Ginny. Arthur and Molly had brought a bag loaded with Ginny’s favorite clothes and other items to Grimmauld Place thinking she would be staying there after she left the void. Harry had some of the items that Ginny least wanted stored there to keep up the impression she was staying there; the rest went to the flat.

Ginny arrived midmorning and was escorted around the Golden Unicorn while it was still closed. Even after seeing it she still couldn’t believe it. Then they went to the owner’s apartment. She swooned at the stock of clothing there for her, and was happy to see familiar items as well.

“Ginny, I want this place to be special for us,” said Harry. “This is our place, where we live for now. It’s very secure, heavily guarded by magic and elves. We are as safe here as anywhere, especially as long as nobody knows of it.”

“Agreed,” said Ginny softly. “Grimmauld Place is the proper place for the Order, entertain at the villa, but we live here for now. We might still want to bring one or two very select friends by though?”

“Yes, when we want to,” he said as he kissed her. “We are hosting a welcome home dinner for you at the villa tonight though, try the shower in the bedroom and see how you like it. It’s wonderful.”

Ginny showered and came out wearing a towel that barely covered the essentials. Harry felt a stiffness grow inside his trousers that became a painful ache as Ginny threw the wet towel on the floor as she came to the closet.

“I’m going to pick something sexy out to wear, baby, go get your shower,” she said with a grin and a glance at the bulge in her fiancés trousers. “You might want to set the water temperature a good bit cooler than I had it while you’re at it.”

Harry took his shower with the water cooler, but not cold, and it did help a bit. He dried off and still naked went into the kitchen area to get something to drink. There beside the table stood Ginny in a lovely and very sexy black evening dress. The dress was backless and had a plunging neckline that beautifully exposed the breasts cradled in soft fabric. It showed off the ruby pendant Harry had given her perfectly. With a hemline that only went down to the upper thigh, and the selection by Ginny of black strappy sandals with four inch heels, the effect was to create long slender and incredibly sexy legs. Harry felt himself becoming uncontrollably erect just looking at her.

Ginny was standing with one shoe on a chair while tying the upper straps of the sandal around her ankle. Satisfied with the fit she looked up at Harry. “Harry, I have a problem I need to ask you about.”

“I’m having a bit of a problem too,” said Harry as his testicles began to throb with desire.

Reaching to the counter behind her Ginny picked up a pair of black thong knickers and held them out to Harry. “Do you think I should wear these, or just go commando?” she asked as she raised her skirt so that Harry could see that she had no underwear on. Harry just stared at Ginny’s exposed pubic mound and his need overcame him.

“I need my woman,” he said gently as he walked up to her and took her hands in his. “I need her now.”

“Really?” she answered with a smile. “I’ll just have to check that out for myself.” Ginny then slipped slowly to her knees on the kitchen floor in front of Harry. She took the shaft of his cock right behind the head between her forefinger and thumb.

“Well it looks like it could certainly use a woman’s touch,” she said as she began to stroke the length of his cock before putting the head in her mouth. Ginny was fully aware of her husband-to-be’s needs and quite happy to oblige. She gave Harry’s dick the best attention she could, and was overjoyed to feel his manhood growing longer and thicker in her mouth. Harry stared down at the top of Ginny’s head as it bobbed up and down his shaft. He could feel the joy in Ginny that he had told her that he needed his woman, he could sense the great desire in her to finally get to please Harry, and to taste him in her mouth. But Harry had other plans for his seed.

When Harry was close to ejaculating in Ginny’s mouth he ordered her to stop and stand up. She seemed disappointed and wasn’t sure if she had been doing a good job or not. Harry reached around her neck and undid her dress top, and let it drop down over her waist, exposing her breasts. He cupped his hands under her breasts and toyed with her nipples. Harry figured that this was as good a time as any to test if his warlock bond was really there. He focused his mind on Ginny and willed her to feel pleasure at his touch; he was almost immediately rewarded by feeling her whole body tremble in ecstasy under his hand.

Harry’s fingers reached down to diddle Ginny’s twat and immediately noticed that the crotch was already dripping wet. At his touch she shook again and moaned out his name. Apparently, he could manipulate her just with a thought. Harry was now through with preliminaries, he had waited too long already to take Ginny, he would not be denied any longer. Harry walked her to the refrigerator door and cradled her right leg in his left arm. He then used the right hand to guide his erection into Ginny’s exposed vulva. She was already well lubricated and with a good shove Ginny was pushed hard against the door and Harry’s dick went all the way into her wet pussy. Ginny moaned and said his name softly again and again.

She was pinned there with the toe of one sandal touching the floor for support. She looked wantingly into Harry’s eyes. Harry could see that she was frightened, but obedient to his will. With her eyes she seemed to be almost begging Harry to be gentle with her, to show mercy. Harry knew what was really there in her mind; she wanted her man to dominate her, to fuck her like a cheap whore.

“You remember the part where I said we’d get married before we started making all those pretty babies we talked about?” Harry asked her. Ginny could only look up at Harry and nod.

“I lied!”

Slowly he began shoving his meat in and out of her pussy. She tried to act stoic at first but after about the first minute Ginny’s head came to rest on Harry’s chest and she began to softly moan in time with Harry’s cock as it was thrust into her. After about five minutes of steady fucking Harry felt his nuts getting ready to cum, he would shoot his load as deep as he could get it inside her. Harry had known that just having sex with Ginny wouldn’t be enough to erase all her doubts. There was only one way that Ginny would know for certain that Harry fully accepted her as his wife, his woman, she needed to bear Harry a child.

“We are starting the damned family right now,” he said, as he shoved his cock deep and began making his short strokes to trigger ejaculation. Harry reached out with his mind in an almost involuntary act and willed his love to receive pleasure from him. Then Harry felt a wave of intense pleasure as his nuts gave, and he knew that a stream of hot semen was on its way inside Ginny. Ginny stiffened as the hot juices hit her insides, she moaning loudly and then began to sob as her body spasmed in the pleasure of her own release.

When Harry’s lust was sated, he carried Ginny over to the kitchen table and laid her across it on her back. Ginny wrapped her long slim legs around Harry’s torso to hold his cock deep inside her. Her body was still shaking from the ecstasy of her first true orgasm; her eyes were fixed on Harry’s like a baby upon those of its mother. Harry knew without hearing it from her, she was his woman, she loved him with all her heart and soul, she would die to save him if needed.

“Desiree, come to me now!” said Harry.

Momentarily, Desiree appeared wearing only a robe. Quickly taking in the situation on the kitchen table Desiree asked, “What is it Harry, is everything all right?”

“Please make us pregnant?” Harry asked. Desiree looked down at Ginny and she nodded her agreement to the idea.

Just as she had done before, Desiree pronounced the ancient enchantments of the Charm of Life, her hands moving the seed to its destination. She asked the required questions of Harry and Ginny to affirm that they willingly created this child in their bloodlines. Then came the Mother’s question to Ginny. “Do you want it to be a boy or a girl?”

Harry looked into her eyes and winked as he stroked her cheeks tenderly. Ginny smiled back, she knew exactly what Harry was telling her, the choice was all hers to make. “Please make her a beautiful little girl,” said Ginny with tears of joy in her eyes.

Desiree stretched forth her mind, placed her hands upon Ginny’s abdomen, and willed Harry’s seed to impregnate Ginny with Harry’s first-born daughter. “You will have a daughter,” she said after a moment. “She will be a beautiful, brave, and very intelligent woman just like her mother. She will be a powerful witch. She’ll have her mother’s beautiful red brown hair, but she will have her daddy’s emerald green eyes. What do you want to name her?”

“I’d like to name her for my Mother,” said Ginny. “Do you think Molly Potter is good name for a girl to have?”

With a smile, Harry nodded his approval at the choice and gave her a deep passionate kiss. Harry pulled Ginny up to where she was sitting on the edge of the table, her legs wrapped around Harry’s waist, and Harry still inside her. The two were locked in a tight embrace still feeling the afterglow of their climax flowing through their bodies.

“Well looks like my work here is done,” said Desiree as she left, “see you at dinner tonight.”

After a few more minutes of cuddling, Harry slipped his now limp cock out of Ginny with a slurping sound. He picked her up from the table and set her feet on the floor. They kissed for several more minutes before Ginny looked down at Harry’s now flaccid genitals that were now smeared with his cum. Ginny knew what she wanted to do and she knelt down before Harry and began licking his dick clean.

“Don’t forget the inside,” said Harry as he had Ginny use two fingers to milk the remaining cum out of his dick into her mouth. When she had thoroughly cleaned his equipment Ginny looked up at Harry in a way that pleaded for him to tell her she had been a good girl. Harry was happy to oblige, he helped her up to her feet and held her tightly to his chest and stroked her head. He could feel the intense joy inside her. She had finally pleased the man she loved, she was going to be a mother to his child. Ginny was Harry’s woman.

“Well I made a shambles of your Mum’s beautiful dress,” said Ginny after a bit.

“Don’t worry, that’s what the help are for, remember that you are about to be an extremely wealthy young woman,” said Harry. A quick call to Dobby resulted in Ginny’s dress being removed for cleaning while Harry untied her shoes and the two of them took a quick shower to freshen up a bit. When done in the shower Ginny found her dress freshly cleaned and pressed, along with fresh knickers. Harry was still naked and walked in holding something behind his back; Ginny figured it was another present for her.

Harry took the knickers from Ginny and threw them towards the bedroom. “You don’t need those tonight,” he said with a smile. He then knelt in front of her and had her place her feet one at a time on his thigh so he could put on her sandals and tie them at the ankles. Harry then just knelt there with his hands rubbing up and down her slim legs, occasionally leaning in to plant soft kisses on the insides of her thighs.

“I have something for you, something special,” said Harry as his eyes gazed into Ginny’s. From the floor behind him he picked up and held forth to her a glass container with the top removed. Inside was a beautiful witch’s wand of yew with silver bands. “It was hers, my mother. She died with it in her hand trying to save me. You need a proper wand; I want you to have this one. I would entrust it to no other person in the world but you. It’s a gift of my love for you, my wife.”

Ginny hesitated for a moment, not out of rejection for Harry’s gift, but out of fear. The wand chose the wizard more than the other way around. When a wand had chosen to associate itself with a particular witch or wizard then it became a part of them. A magical bond was formed that could transcend the death of the magus. Ginny could feel the power of this wand without touching it, and there was a presence within. There was a guardian spirit of another witch, a powerful witch, still resident in this wand, undoubtedly Harry’s mum. To take possession of the wand and be able to call its power you only had two options, be accepted by the guardian and have the wand surrendered to your care, or challenge the guardian and take your chances with defeating it.

If the host spirit of the wand successfully rejected Ginny then she could be seriously injured. There were a number of documented accounts where wizards and witches had even died attempting such a thing. There was only one way of finding out if the spirit of Lily Potter would allow Ginny to take this wand from Harry. Ginny reached out and picked up the wand.

The kitchen was immediately filled with a spiritual presence and a soft warm glow filled the room. Ginny felt the presence emanate from the wand. It surrounded her and Harry. Harry stiffened as though struck, he knew this spirit, it was she that had given him life, she who had nourished him from her own body, she who had died so that he might live.

“Mummy!” was all Harry could mutter at first through his tears to the invisible presence. “I love her, mummy, I need her. She is to be my wife; she has your granddaughter within her.”

Ginny felt the spirit move into her, not as an attack, but in the form of an embrace. She felt a warmness come over her as if she was receiving a hug from a friend. Inside of her mind she heard a whispered voice she had never heard before come to her, “Take care of my baby.” Then she felt the presence dissipate, in seconds it was gone. She had been accepted, the wand of Lily Potter was now hers.