Harry Potter and the Skittering Spouse

[Fencer]

POV: Taylor Hebert
Location: cauldron cell
Point in Timeline: immediately post surrender to the PRT

With an explosive exhale I tried to jolt upright only to be held down by straps across my arms legs and chest. Glancing around.

"The fuck?!"

I didn't remember falling asleep. I should not have fallen asleep. There were no bugs in my range. None.

"Good morning, miss Hebert."

My head whipped to the side revealing a blurry outline. Blinking I finally realized I didn't have my mask, with its corrective lenses, or my costume. Instead, I was wearing... a dress? It felt like a dress.

…Who the fuck was the soon to be corpse that undressed me and where the fuck was my costume?! That took me months of work to make!

"I'm sorry we have to meet like this. I don't often need to interfere so directly, and usually when I do it's in a more final manner. But you represent an opportunity. Removing your allies fail safes and removing them from play without harming them was a refreshing change of pace from how problems are normally delt with."

The others were alive… hopefully. There was no reason to trust this woman. But if she was being honest… well there went all of my leverage.

"What did you do to them?" I demanded.

"They have been temporarily relocated to an alternate earth with a very low concentration of parahumans. They should have no problems thriving. Should you succeed, you should be reunited, eventually." She said with infuriating calm.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

"Succeed at what exactly?" I glared at the women.

"It didn't have to be you." The woman continued, ignoring my question. "There were others I could use for this. But you are… appropriate. In temperament, morals, and ability. More than that, though you did not yet know it, this was necessary to save one of my few friends from you. Alexandria is simply incapable of bending. Much like yourself." She patted my arm. "But until you there has never been a cape that could have successfully killed her when she forced them to lash out. So, I'm sending you not only because you are up to the task, but to spare my friend. Given I've pulled your own friends out of the line of fire I trust you will consider it a fair exchange."

No not really because even if both our friends got to walk away from this alive, I was getting separated from mine and she wasn't! And how the hell was I supposed to kill Alexandria with bugs?! I mean I could try to choke her to death with them but… well that might work.

"Normally I would give you more details but… well, chances are you would do anything else out of spite, and then be left stranded on an alternate Earth until Dinah's predictions about the end of the World become relevant."

Which wasn't how I wanted to spend the time leading up to things. Thank you very much for the doomsday reminder, you bitch.

"Instead, I would just advise you to go with your instincts, and not murder anyone out of hand."

With another pat on my arm, she turned and walked out of the room. I started shouting after her, but I was ignored and then there was only the hissing sound of a dispersing gas.

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POV: Harry Potter
Location: Las Vegas Nevada
Point in timeline: summer after fifth year

I was going to kill Tonks for dragging me here like this.

"Come to Vegas, Harry. You need a vacation, Harry. Sirius would want you to have some fun, Harry."

It was all a crock of shite… well alright, Sirius would probably have approved. And I do need a vacation. But this? This wasn't me. Lights, and noise, and people. This just made me feel twitchy and crowded.

Still there was probably something I could salvage from the night considering the trace didn't work outside of the UK. A switching spell on my water bottle netted me a full bottle of rum. I waved to Tonks and Remus where they were dancing, once I caught Tonks eye, I pointed at the bracelet she charmed with a tracking spell and jerked my head towards the exit.

The half drunk metemorph just grinned and waved me off before refocusing on Remus.

To hell with the both of them. I was finding a relatively quiet corner and getting drunk.

Two streets, one rapid retreat from a constable who would never believe the fake ID Tonks gave me, four times ducking in and then immediately out of a building based only on noise level, and what must have been about four fingers of rum later, I finally gave up and dropped onto a bus stop bench. A finger of rum after that and quiet cursing drew my eyes to the left where a leggy girl around my age in a modest sundress wobbled like someone hit by a jelly legs jinx. She stumbled her way over and collapsed onto the other end of the bench rubbing at her temples.

"Try something and I'll kill you." She slurred.

Discretion being the better part of valor I took another drink and offered her the bottle.

She glared at it.

"Not drunk. Crazy bitch drugged me and dumped me out here. S'm sorta gas."

"Why? And how're you're you going to kill me while drugged to high hell." I asked, taking another sip. The world was starting to roll a bit, and everything was getting sort of fuzzy. It was a hell of an improvement over the last few weeks.

"Crazy bitch has a thinker power. Something, something, stopping me before I can do whatever." She made a disgusted exhale.

Thinker power?

"And drugging you?"

"Hell if I know. S'why I'm calling her, crazy bitch."

"That sucks."

I offered her the bottle again.

She sighed, but this time she took a swig.

"Now I'm stuck, and alone, again!" She slugged back more of the rum before passing it back.

I nodded.

"My cousin dragged me out here from Britain, said I needed a vacation." I took a swig. "Bollocks, she just wanted to drag me along so she could pull my uncle into it and try and get in his pants."

I took another swig before passing the bottle.

"Which is shite, cuss I could really use a vacation. Bloody terrorist wankers can't just leave me the hell alone."

The girl took a swig and eyed me carefully.

"Terrorists?"

"Inbred tossers, obsessed with nobility and bloodlines. Dangerous, too many sympathizers in the government. Took a year to get them to admit they were even around."

The bottle was starting to look a bit low, maybe I should slow down? After this one.

"Be coming for me again sooner or later." I muttered before passing the bottle.

"Be ready when they do. Kill em first." She took another drink, eyed the bottle, shook her head and set it aside.

"Jus like that then? Kill em first?" I asked.

"What else would you do? Roll over and let them have the first shot, and all the rest too?" She snorted. "Doesn't work on bullies, doesn't work on villains, don't see why it'd work on terrorists. Only ones you can trust to have your back are your friends. Worry about them and yourself."

"And kill the terrorist?"

"You turn em over to the police, will they stay locked up? You said they had friends in the government?"

"I don't really want to be like them though, isn't that…"

"Terrorists, right? Tryin to kill you? Tryin to kill other people?"

"Yeah." I admitted.

"You don't fight back to kill ya won't be anything like them. Cuss they'll be alive, and you'll be dead."

… I think I'd have a hard time arguing against that sober.

"… Right. Kill em first." I muttered as I took another pull from the bottle I didn't remember picking back up.

{}{}{}{}
POV: Taylor
Location: Vegas hotel suite
Time: 10 AM

I was unspeakably tempted to gather a swarm for the sole purpose of acting as a blackout curtain and cutting off the sunlight leaking into the room. Instead, I was doing the smart thing and dispersing a small swarm around the hotel suite and in the hallway outside.

My throbbing head objected. My sense of self preservation overruled it.

I still couldn't see very well, but I'd found a carving knife in the kitchen and wedged it between the armrest and couch cushion. My swarm was something like ninety percent irritants with a handful of decent scorpions. Not that they couldn't be used to strip flesh from bone in short order if I used enough, but I wanted more wasps and venomous spiders.

The smart thing to do would be to leave. But I'd woken up on the couch, still dressed, across from the boy passed out in the recliner, also still dressed. Clothes still being on, and the lack of any telling soreness bought the group some leeway. The mystery ring on my finger that wouldn't even budge, which matched the boys? That demanded an explanation which I was going to get even if I needed to start cramming scorpions in orifices.

More practically… I had nowhere to go. No identification. No resources. And the lack of cape news on any of the six news stations I'd found on tv pretty clearly said I wasn't on Earth Bet anymore. Seriously, what the hell were the Triumvirate doing hiding a cape like the crazy bitch?

Yes, thinkers did better from the shadows and there was no reason to think she also had whatever power transported me here but if they had access to dimensional portals why the hell were we not evacuating Bet and leaving the Endbringers to rampage across an empty planet? None of this made any damn sense and without being able to threaten someone with all the spiders I probably wasn't going to get any answers. Certainly wasn't going to get those answers from anyone in this dimension.

So, waiting, sipping water, wishing aspirin did more than take the edge off of my hangover. Not murdering whoever these people were out of hand, because I wanted answers about the fucking ring. Keeping my eyes shut because a hangover and lack of glasses mixed just made the headache worse.

Never would have turned myself in if I knew this was going to happen. If I ever get home, I'm going to have words with Dinah over this.

A groan from the recliner got me to open my eyes and squint at the blob lying there.

"Morning. Water and aspirin on the counter. Not much but it helped a bit."

The boy jolted upright.

"Who are…. Oh, you're the girl from last night. Er we didn't…"

"Not as far as I can tell." I answered blandly. "And there goes my faint hope that you would remember last night and tell me what happened."

"I remember talking on the bench. You advised killing terrorists… not much after that though." The boy said as he stumbled towards the water and aspirin.

"So, nothing more than I remember. Great. Hopefully the couple in the bed will know something."

I closed my eyes and huffed. I should probably look into getting breakfast, but last time I stood up the room was still shaking. I didn't really feel like pushing my luck.

"What's your name anyway?" I asked. "I'm assuming we must have done introductions last night, but my memories cut off before that."

"Harry Potter. You?"

"Taylor Hebert." Another dimension. No point using an alias here. "Don't suppose you have a spare set of glasses do you? No idea if our prescriptions are the same but I'd settle for less fuzzy right now."

Harry muttered something then wobbled over to place a pair of glasses in my hand. They were an old full circle design in a metal frame. Not my usual look but beggars can't be choosers.

Sure enough, they were not my prescription. They did make things less fuzzy.

"Thanks, not a match, but it's an improvement."

"Sooo, drugged and dumped in Vegas?" He asked.

"It's a long story, unless you want to explain why terrorists are after you?"

"…Maybe put that off till the hangover goes away."

My lips twitched up and I shook my head.

"More interested in why the wedding ring won't come off."

"Wedding ring?" He checked his own hand. "Oh bloody hell!"

"Yeah, that about sums it up. You know I always heard about people getting drunk married in Vegas, but I didn't realize it was a thing that actually happened."

And if there was some power involved in keeping the damn thing on my finger? Well, that was something to look into. If this place had a covert cape culture, well I wanted to know about them and what rules they play by. Before I got my head taken off for interfering in anything.

Harry tugged at his own ring. It did about as much as my own efforts which is to say nothing.

"Tried soapy water but it didn't do anything. Weirdly it doesn't actually feel tight, it just won't move. Can't even spin it." I spoke up.

Harry glared at the ring before blowing out a breath.

"This might just be my honorary uncle's idea of a joke. It's a bit tasteless for him, but if he was as drunk as we were…"

I was still betting on some kind of power being involved with this nonsense so that might make his honorary uncle my first point of contact with whatever groups had powers here. But if that was the case… if powers ran in families like back home?

I might be outnumbered on top of being potentially outgunned.

Well, maybe it was time to give diplomacy another try. With no reputation to fall back on that would be both easier and harder. No villain stigma, but also no rep. I could try playing up the lost and alone angle… but if these people weren't the nice sort that could backfire. Badly.

Harry distracted me from my thoughts with a triumphant cry as he fished something out of a messenger bag.

"Something some friends from school cooked up. Heat free firecrackers basically."

"My head is in no condition to appreciate even those little bang snaps they give kids at carnivals. Why are you playing with something like that now?"

Harry gestured at the bedroom.

"Because if this is Remus's idea of a joke I want to get even."

My lips twitched up and I jammed my fingers in my ears. This might not help with the whole diplomacy thing, but at least it would cut down on the waiting for answers bit.

Thirty seconds with the bangs and snaps ongoing and I was now certain I'd stumbled into a group of people with powers. Chemical reactions that make a good pop without heat? Sure, I'd buy that. Ones that just kept going? That sounded like Tinker work. My bugs just caught flashes and streaks of light. I didn't have enough coverage to get a clear picture.

It took another minute for the bangs and snaps to stop. And the whole time the room's occupants were shouting. It took another five before they managed to find all their clothes and stagger out of the room.

"You bloody wanker." The woman who stormed out of the room had blood red hair and a scowl on her face. "Lighting off one of the twins' inventions before a girl gets her hangover potion is just rude!"

She waved the stick in her hand and two corked bottles flew across the room to her. She passed off the second to the man following behind her. She popped the cork, chugged, grimaced, then froze as she caught sight of me. Her hair wilted to a muddy brown instantly and Harry slapped a hand to his face.

"Great job, Tonks. Never mind the Statue of Secrecy when you need a hangover cure is that it? You are supposed to be an Auror!" Harry snapped.

Well, this sounded like it was going downhill in a hurry, so maybe…

I coughed and set a few hundred flies into multiple orbits around myself.

All three of them gaped at me.

"I take it you keep things like this quiet around here?"

Then there was shouting, and questions and an exchange of information.

{}{}{}{}
POV: Harry Potter

"I don't believe this shite!" Tonks shouted as she slammed her hands onto the coffee table. "Other dimensions, superheroes straight out of Saturday morning cartoons, and monsters that'd make Godzilla cry for mummy! This is ridiculous!"

Taylor just arched an eyebrow calm as can be.

"Oh yeah? You have magic terrorists led by a Lich. You have magical animals straight out of children's novels and a government so inept that they believed a teenager posed a serious threat to their right to govern and respond by torturing minors…. And not a single parent attempted to do anything about it." The fact the teachers did nothing was less than surprising.

Tonks opened her mouth for an angry retort, paused to consider the point… and Taylor went right on talking like she hadn't noticed the impending eruption.

"Frankly the only reason I'm not scoffing at the fact you call your powers magic is that it's almost entirely universal and requires training. Back home people would point at you and laugh if you claimed you were using magic."

Tonks pouted.

"If you weren't a muggle, I'd demand an oath on your magic that you weren't bull shitting us."

"You're the witch." Taylor scoffed. "Draw some runes in blood or something so I can't lie, just so long as you let me say I'd rather not answer. I'm American, and we're rather fond of the fifth amendment."

Which meant, what?

"What?" Tanks asked, saving me the embarrassment.

"Right to refuse to incriminate myself. You don't need to know my whole life story."

"Not that." Tonks scoffed. "That rubbish about drawing runes in blood."

"I've known about magic for half an hour. Excuse me if I'm drawing my understanding from fiction until I learn all the rules for it."

Which was entirely fair in my mind. Especially given how many of the cliches were true… which did beg the question of how exactly the cliches held true across dimensions when her world supposedly did not have magic. Or if the cliches did in fact hold true. Hard to be sure yet. Hermione would go nuts trying to figure all this out.

"Look, forget about that for now." Taylor said. "It's not like you have a better explanation of what I am, and we can figure out proof later. The only reason I didn't swarm all of you is that I woke up dressed and not sleeping next to anyone."

And wasn't that a scary thought…

"The damn ring won't come off and I want an explanation, now." Taylor demanded as she showed Tonks the back of her and the ring she wore. I held up my own hand just to drive the point home.

"Yeah, jokes a joke and all, Remus, but this isn't funny. What did you do? Password lock the sticking charm?" I asked.

Remus, who had been suspiciously quiet, fidgeted like a nervous first year before clearing his throat to speak.

"So, umm, I'm assuming none of you actually remembers last night then?"

Tonks shook her head just as Taylor said "No."

"Ahh, well, I, um, do remember."

Taylor reached up to rub the bridge of her nose as the bugs in the room started to move around a bit violently.

"So, we found you two shortly after you finished the bottle of rum, which we should talk about where you got that-"

"Switching spell, lecture me later and get on with it, Remus." I cut him off.

He puffed up like he was ready to start a lecture now only for Taylor's bugs to ratchet up their volume as she glared.

Remus coughed and got on with it.

"Tonks dragged all of us to a small, office? Chapel? Both? Really not sure. Said she'd made arrangements in advance, then started insisting you two join us because she always wanted a double wedding…"

Tonks thunked her head on the coffee table and started to curse.

"I think you two just agreed to shut her up honestly. Taylor said something about it not mattering anyway, which I assume is related to the fact the government doesn't think you exist here?"

She nodded tightly and muttered, "Probably."

"So, we got married and headed back here." Remus finished.

"And the reason the rings will not come off?" Taylor demanded in a scary flat voice.

Remus and Tonks both flinched.

"In my defense I was drunk enough to not think it through at the time and Tonks apparently set things up in advance." Remus held up his hands in front of his chest. "But, uh, it was a magical wedding ceremony. Actual magic. Really old, really serious magic. The kind that doesn't appreciate people going back on their vows."

And here Remus took a second to glare at Ton- huh, can't call her that anymore. Nymphadora, he glared at Nymphadora in a way which promised a future conversation.

"Nymphadora Lupin what the fuck did you do?!" I shouted as I rounded on her. "You dragged me out here saying I needed a vacation, but it's been nothing but stressful for me, and then you go and drag me into a magically enforced marriage with a perfect stranger while both of us were drunk enough to agree to anything!"

I was dimly aware that the number of bugs in the room seemed to be skyrocketing.

Tonks opened her mouth to say something only to stop as a swarm of flies started to circle her.

"What exactly are the terms we are bound to? What kind of limitations will this put on us?" Taylor's voice was perfectly, terrifyingly, level. The insects on the other hand were going nuts. I might not be Hermione, but I was going to bet there was a connection there.

"It's an old vow. I don't remember the specifics, but… you two won't be able to go more than a certain distance from one another until you… consummate, the marriage."

Taylor's hand dipped in and out of the couch, coming back up with a carving knife which she laid across her lap. She did not look away from Remus as she did so. Remus gulped but kept talking.

"If you two harm each other physically or emotionally with intent, the vow will punish you for it with pain. If you were to kill your partner…"

"The vow will kill us." Taylor finished.

Remus nodded.

I started cursing under my breath.

Taylor tapped a finger against her knife.

"If, and I stress the if, we consummated it. Could we go our separate ways and live our lives with just a permanent piece of jewelry."

"No." Tonks answered not looking at any of us. "You could go your separate ways, never see each other again, but, ugh. The old vows like this consider infidelity to be a betrayal. The magic… you couldn't be with anyone else."

The noise of the bugs exploded to a whole new level. Before they all landed and fell silent. Then she spoke while looking directly at her ring.

"If my husband, Harry Potter, took part in our marriage, knowing what it meant and entailed in an attempt to entrap and coerce me, then I would consider such to be a grievous betrayal, and an attempt to harm me."

There was a moment of stillness and then magic surged through the room, through the rings, and through us. Even Taylor seemed surprised and aware of it despite being a muggle. I realized just what she was doing, what she was potentially setting me up for. And I really couldn't blame her. This looked really, really bad from just about any perspective. Fifteen seconds later the magic receded. I gave it another ten count before blowing out the breath I'd been holding and slumping back in my chair.

"Huh… honestly didn't expect… that." Taylor muttered before looking my way. "I'm sorry, I've been betrayed, a lot. And you seem alright but…" she trailed off and shrugged.

"Can't say I blame you." I admitted.

The Lupins were both looking at Taylor with bug eyed expressions, if I wasn't riding an adrenaline crash right now, I'd probably look similar. Taylor learned about magic existing less than an hour ago and she managed to exploit an old marriage vow she didn't even know the wording of to act in her own defense. That wasn't power like Dumbledore, or book smarts like Hermione, that was clever and ruthless and intuitive. Which could be really handy considering-

I blanched as I realized what I was thinking and what she had just called magic to judge me on.

"I'm sorry." I blurted out. "I just, if you're stuck with me that means… that means you're a target now too."

She blinked, looked at me and then frowned.

"Terrorists. Right, you're a high priority target and now I'm connected to you." She crossed her arms and scowled. "I suppose we could, ergh, consummate the marriage. Then I could disappear into some city's criminal community. Maybe even move from city to city. Might keep a few of the fuckers busy chasing false leads you could drop… but if they have some magic way to track people?"

Nymphadora wiggled a hand back and forth.

"They would need something to track you by, blood would be best and even then, it's tricky."

Taylor hummed.

"Then you'd be risking your life against terrorist, and I'd be risking mine against gangs… frankly I like my odds more than yours, but that'd be pretty callous. Last one standing gets on with their life and we call it a bust after five years if we're both still kicking?"

Ok, oww, that stung, but I couldn't exactly disagree either. I'd like her odds more than mine too.

"But you said this guy was genocidal right? Anyone that doesn't meet his pureblood ideology dies or lives as second class citizens?"

I nodded.

Taylor hesitated.

"I'd be pretty useless during winter, and if, if, I agreed to help I'm going to need some things to close the gap, magic bugs would be a good start. Knives and guns are going to be a must if I'm going to be playing counter terrorist."

Well, that was a terrifying thought. Swarms of magical bugs and guns in the hands of someone whose advice was "kill them first."

Nymphadora sputtered.

"Are you crazy! We're British, we can't just buy guns in America and take them back with us!"

"Well of course not. If we bought them that would leave a trail for someone to follow. But we're in America. Between your magic and my ability to search with my bugs we could all be decked out for war in a couple hours if we find the kind of dipshit that collects tons of guns. If we're really lucky they'll be the kind that ignores laws and mods them to be full auto. Or keeps military grade sniper rifles."

She looked thoughtful as she tapped at her knee.

"I can cheat a bit if I use bugs for aiming, but we should get plenty of ammo, so I have enough to practice with."

The Lupin's were spluttering messes. I started to laugh. Taylor was nothing like anyone at Hogwarts. Between the fifth amendment thing and the way she acted? Good bet she wasn't one of those cartoon heroes. And that was… well probably not what I'd have gone looking for in a wife. But if she was willing to help fight Voldemort… That could be really useful.

"You know I like that version more." I offered. "We fight the same group, and if we're both still standing when it's all said and done maybe we can make it work."

Taylor's lips twitched up.

"Well, they're not neo Nazi's so it's not quite like home, but they're close enough for stomping them to feel familiar. Tell me the full story instead of the cliff notes before I decide?"

"We've got the time." I agreed. This whole mess was shite, but maybe we could salvage something from it after all. Or at least not be miserable forever.

 

[Fencer]

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POV: Taylor Hebert

Wandering the city with my new husband was not how I wanted to spend my day. But there were things I wanted to do before we left, and things I needed to do if I was going to help fight a small war. I couldn't do any of those things if I left hubby behind so we were just going to get a head start on the whole 'getting to know you' disaster.

I was actually a little lucky. All it took to get the address of the shady magical marriage parlor was glaring at Nymphadora. Harry was curious enough about what I intended to do that I only had to ask to convince him to come with me after we'd tested how far from one another we could get.

The answer was about six hundred feet. Not a lot of room to range away, but enough to give some illusion of freedom. Tonks had been stunned and insisted it shouldn't have allowed for more than sixty feet, but I was betting my power's range had something to do with it. Which was a very good reason to find some magical bugs that thrived in the cold or we might find ourselves getting much closer come winter. Unless I could convince him to give up on the crazy Scottish Castle and find a property somewhere warm that we could turn into a deathtrap for any attacking force.

Harry had countered that idea by explaining what Acromantula were and how many were living in the forest by his school. Which had started a discussion about why he went near them without my powers, and how unbelievably lethal his school was. Harry further pointed out that the school being lethal could hopefully be turned in his favor for once and the fact that without magical protections the Death Eaters could probably just wipe out a normal safe house with Fiendfire.

I wasn't really happy about that argument, but he did make several good points I had no ready counter for. And the fact he seemed to be thinking in terms of tactics was reassuring, sort of, because if he couldn't even get a little creative on his own, I'd outlive him. And while that might solve a lot of my current problems he didn't deserve to die just because we were stuck together.

His cousin on the other hand… even if dragging the two of us into this mess was just her being too drunk to think straight. She'd still trapped Remus into a marriage that he couldn't get out of. She'd planned it out in advance. The fact Remus was angry, but accepting, was insane. Even if they had been dating already this was the kind of bullshit that should destroy a relationship.

Harry saying it was complicated didn't explain anything. Remus agreeing that it was complicated made me want to grab the man by the shoulder and shake sense into him.

"So, now that we're away from my auror cousin-" Harry started to say.

"What is an auror?" I cut him off.

"Magic police, and maybe a bit of MI5 type work as well? Not entirely sure. Didn't really grow up with all of this."

Right, he mentioned normal relatives, very briefly, with the kind of tone I'd heard from most of the Undersiders when discussing family. Landmine for another day.

"Anyway, now that we're away from her and we don't need to worry about plausible deniability, I've got two questions."

"Just two?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry just grinned.

"Only two right now. You weren't one of the heroes, were you?"

I seriously considered lying, but he already sounded certain, and honestly the way I acted… Gunboat diplomacy is still diplomacy, right? But if we were going to be stuck together, and I was not jumping in bed with a stranger without a much better reason than losing a six hundred foot leash…We were going to have to work together. And that meant extending a little trust.

"I wanted to be, at first. But… I was a mess when I first went out, I felt like I needed to prove my worth before I could join them. I didn't really want to deal with a bunch of teenage capes either. It sounded like more high school drama and…" I shook my head. "I couldn't really take any more of that. So, I came up with the brilliant plan to go undercover, only my hero contact didn't want to give me time to work, and I started to like the people I teamed up with, and then there was this little girl I needed to save. I couldn't really help her unless I stayed part of the team, and two of the heroes had tried to kill me at that point and just…" I wasn't getting into my trigger with him now. Maybe someday if we became friends, but not today. Maybe not ever. "Before I ended up here? Before the crazy bitch got involved? I actually turned myself in. I remember sitting in a cell waiting for a chance to negotiate with someone. I wanted them to leave my friends alone, and in exchange put me to work hunting down the worst of the worst. It was something I'd be good at, and it was more important than just playing king of the castle with the city."

For a minute we walked in silence.

"Thanks for being honest." Harry said sincerely.

"What was your other question?"

"What are we doing to the asshole who performed the ceremony?"

That actually got me to chuckle.

"Hold out your hand." I said.

Harry glanced at me but complied.

I landed a fly in his hand. A fly that was carrying a termite.

"I'm collecting every termite I can and when we get there, I'm going to set them to chewing through all the supports. Would normally take a while for them to do serious damage, but it's pretty amazing what bugs can do when they're backed by human intelligence. Besides that? He's about to get the mother of all scorpion infestations and if the rings and money he has on site aren't locked up too tight? I could use some start up funds."

Harry gaped at me and I couldn't help grinning just a little.

"I'd like to storm in there and start swarming him with all the bugs while screaming about him being a slaver or something. But I want to keep my powers quiet. Surprise is only good once. I'd hate for word of what you married to get back to this lich of yours before I get to take my first shot at him or his people."

Harry faked gaging.

"Ergh, the wanker isn't mine. Saying it like that just sounds creepy. And why do you keep calling him a Lich?"

"Well, he's not exactly the classic version. Those are usually some sort of undead skeleton that can still think. I always thought of them as some necromancer binding his soul to his bones so he won't pass on, but most fiction skips the part about how they are made. Usually, they're fine with that and want to conquer something with an army of zombies."

Harry hummed thoughtfully.

"I don't think that's it. He was running around as a spirit, no bones involved."

Which was a good point. So, the fucker wasn't a lich. But then what was he? Drawing on the fantasy genre and fairytales for hints and clues and ideas sounded like it was going to be pretty hit or miss. But… well…

"Then maybe he's more like Sauron." I offered.

"Sauron?"

"The main antagonist from Lord of the Rings. He was killed in battle, but he had put a part of himself into his ring. The man who killed him, was tempted by the ring's power and chose not to destroy it. But so long as the ring survived Sauron did too, just not physically."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he worried at his bottom lip.

"The diary, the one from my second year." He muttered back.

My eyebrow shot up, but then I nodded.

"That would make sense. A memory possessing someone sounds a bit sketchy but if it was a piece of his soul or something…"

And man did I ever have mixed feelings about that. Soul's are real. See dementors and the feeding of. I wasn't going to run off and join a church, because I wasn't really impressed with any of them, but if heaven and hell are real too… Maybe it was a good thing I was trying to give up the villain life and turn over a new leaf.

"But he's still around." Harry countered, which was also a very good point.

"Could there be more than one?" I asked.

Harry scowled.

"That sounds like the worst case scenario, so knowing my luck? Probably. Unless we're well off the mark in the first place."

"Still, might be something to ask this Dumbledore about."

"There is that. Hopefully he'll give me a straight answer."

"Even if he doesn't, watch his face. People, even ancient politicians, give plenty away when you catch them off guard."

Harry only hummed thoughtfully so I let the topic lie for now.

We were finally in range of the chapel and I was going to ruin this man.

{}{}{}{}
POV Harry Potter.

Watching Taylor work was interesting. Not so much what she was doing with the bugs because I couldn't see that, which was mildly terrifying to think about, but how she effortlessly navigated a city she'd never been in to find every shady pawn shop, and back alley watch salesman. Selling off the wedding bands she'd stolen a few at a time with a different believable story every time.

"Man kept going on about owning a chapel here, but he was shit at poker. Bet me a few rings he had on him when he ran out of chips." Taylor said straight faced to the latest pawn shop owner who was busy examining the rings.

"Well, it's all fourteen carat, simple bands. So, you weren't scammed, but I'd bet he told you it was worth more than it is."

"I figured that even before I won them, but the man was terrible at cards. Easy money is easy money. What'll you give me for them?"

"Well, ten rings of this quality and in a basic design? I'll give you say, eighty per."

Taylor scoffed.

"You could melt them down and get more than that. They're probably worth one fifty from a jeweler."

"Sure, but this is a pawn shop, not a jewelers. And with such a boring design? If they don't move I probably will melt them down to sell for metal. Product sitting around doesn't make me money. I'll give you eighty five per, but no more."

Taylor did an amazing job of glaring like a wet kitten instead of a biblical plague. Then she made a show of glancing around the shop before perking up.

"How about eighty per and you throw in those punch daggers." She pointed at the small triangle blades with the weird handles.

The man behind the counter did some quick thinking and then scoffed.

"Girl, don't make me laugh. If you're going to try and screw me, at least try and be a bit less obvious about it."

"Fine, fine." Taylor waved her hand. "A ring per knife and eighty per for the remaining eight rings."

The man laughed genuinely.

"Much better! But no deal. A ring per knife and seventy five per for the other eight."

Taylor scoffed, then sighed, and offered the man her hand.

"Fine, deal."

"Pleasure doing business with you." The man grinned.

Ten minutes later we were back on the street, and I asked something I was sure I knew the answer to.

"You don't care about the money at all do you? You're really just after the weapons."

Her running count so far was two police batons, the punch daggers, three military knives in different styles, a small case of pepper spray, and a taser.

"Yup, but going to a bunch of different places gives me a few benefits though. Spreads the rings across the city and makes us harder to pin down. Getting the weapons as an afterthought muddies the water a little as opposed to just walking in and buying a number of weapons all in one place, and it gives me a chance to search for any gun nuts we could help with their very specific hoarding problem."

I really wasn't sure how to feel about… most of that. Actually, the only part I was fully on board with was screwing over the man who performed the ceremony. Loading up on weapons and planning to steal guns and bullets from a perfect stranger because it was convenient? Definitely didn't feel too great about that. Doing all of this so Taylor could be better equipped to kill Death Eaters?

That was a whole tangled mess I was still trying to work through.

Guilt that I was dragging her into my mess where she could get killed or worse.

Gratitude she wasn't holding me responsible for this shite and that she was willing to help.

A whole tangle of emotions I couldn't even pin down about the idea of fighting to kill instead of capture.

And the fact that I was now married to the most terrifying and confident girl I'd ever met…. That one might take another week to settle because I didn't even know where to begin on that.

"Hey, Harry… think there's any chance the whole marriage oath is tied to the rings?"

"I have no idea. Why?" And why do you suddenly look like you are plotting murder.

"Just thinking I could get through life just fine with nine fingers if it got us out of this marriage."

Well… it was something to ask about? Merlin damn it all, getting used to this girl was going to take a while.

 

[Fencer]

{}{}{}{} Taylor

Lopping off a couple fingers to get rid of the rings was apparently not the solution. The magic was tied to us, not the useless hunks of metal. Trying would just see the stupid ring jump to another finger until we ran out of digits. At which point you would end up with an incredibly thin choker.

Honestly the slave collar look might have been more honest if Harry had been in on it. Which he had not. I had to keep reminding myself. Too easy to just hate him because he's there, but he's in the same boat I am, and the easily activated magical bond agreed that he hadn't been trying to take advantage of me.

Now I just had to keep reminding myself until it sank in.

Much more productive to work on revenge plans for the crazy bitch and Nymphadora. Nymphadora would live, partly because she hadn't planned this and had caused it while drunk off her ass. Partly because if I was going to work with these people maiming one of them wasn't likely to win me any friends.

Finding the proper balance of revenge there was going to take some thought. Crazy bitch was apparently friends with Alexandria so murdering her for this insanity might not be great for my health. Sure, CB said I could kill Alexandria but my only plan for that could be stopped by a sealed helmet.

"Taylor?" Harry asked.

I hummed back as I focused on cleaning my new guns. It was something I was going to need to practice, because I'd only ever had the one pistol, and these were not the same.

"Time to get going. Tonks and Remus want all this shrunk down before we pack it away. Just in case, no one in the ministry should care about muggle weapons, but they don't want to take chances."

I glanced over my collection of weapons and my new clothes and essentials which were mostly still in bags. There had been more than enough money left over from selling the rings to buy myself some clothes and enough magic money looted from the building to get a small, enchanted, duffle bag. Seriously, featherlight and expansion charms? I was going to have the best and most extensive bug out bag possible just as soon as I could figure out what magical things I could use that might be useful.

"Right…" I reassembled the shotgun I was working on as quickly as I could. Then danced through the piles, picking out a few things.

Wearing a gun into a government building sounded like a bad idea. Even if the government in question would likely laugh at the idea of a non magical weapon being dangerous. But I wasn't about to go unarmed either. Especially not if I wouldn't have the chance to stop and re-arm myself until later.

I stuck the thinnest of the knives I'd picked up, a Fairbairn–Sykes, into the front pocket of my new hoody. The collapsible baton went in one pocket and a can of pepper spray in the other. I finished off by strapping the punch daggers to my wrists where the sleaves would hide them. Probably not the best place for them but at least they wouldn't be visible.

Harry looked at me like he thought I was crazy, but the idiot kept his only weapon, which was a relatively fragile piece of wood, in his pocket. I let that thought repeat for a few seconds, then I tossed him a can of pepper spray.

Harry sighed like a put upon adult dealing with an unruly child before chuckling and pocketing the can. I just rolled my eyes while my back was turned and started putting my new clothes into my bag. Nymphadora had a wand holster, and I was going to force Harry to buy one on pain of bugs in his food at the first chance.

"Are you sure we need to shrink the guns down?" I asked. "You won't be able to use magic once we're in the UK, right? I somehow doubt most people will be enthusiastic about helping me with my weapons."

Harry chewed that thought over as he started passing me things to pack away,

"I don't think they'll search your stuff. Especially not with your cover story. But I think it's better safe than sorry in this case. And I can probably convince the twins or Mister Weasley to unshrink them for you."

"…Fine."

I wouldn't be so worried about this if I could bring a decent swarm with me, but that just wasn't possible. And while I'd never had a problem calling up bugs on site so to speak, it still took a while for four blocks worth of insects to converge, and we had multiple teleports between us and safety. The best I could do was keep a few scorpions and spiders handy.

I'd actually collected twenty breeding pairs of black widows and with a little careful breeding I could hopefully have a proper colony large enough to remake my costume in a few months. If my power worked on the magic spiders though? Well, it would depend on how hard their silk was to work, but I might have a complete costume in days instead.

With the last of my new weapons shrunk and put away, I zipped up the bag and followed Harry to the suite's living room.

"Ah, good!" Remus said with false cheer. "Harry with Tonks, Taylor with me. We'll be side along appariting you, but we have to do this together or the bond… well it really wouldn't like you two trying to separate like that."

Nodding I took the proffered hand and Remus counted down.

"Three, two, one!"

Trickster's teleports were disorienting. This was nauseating. I stumbled away from Remus and only barely held onto my breakfast as I distracted my stomach with an exploration of the different swarm of insects now under my control. The building was much bigger on the inside, and the overlapping areas were… not giving me a headache, but they were definitely something I would need to get used to if this was normal for magic architecture.

Tonks had a quietly muttered conversation with someone who cast a bunch of spells on me and then winced. Tonks assured them that it was a drunken mistake on everyone's part. But they were getting me off of the streets, and really hoping Dumbledore might have some ideas to get me out of the marriage. She then very quietly mentioned that someone had let loose giant magic spiders near the school, and Hogwarts had been quietly looking for a solution for years, so this really might work out great all around.

The whole time I just scowled at anyone who looked at me playing up the furious teenager I hadn't really let myself be since getting dropped here. It didn't help anything, but in a weird way it also felt better to be open about how I felt about nearly all of this.

Bullshitting out of the magical US? Surprisingly easy.

We caught a portkey, which was worse than apparition, to England not even thirty minutes after we arrived.

Bullshitting into magical England as the bride of a national celebrity? Much harder. Nymphadora only got ten words out before the shouting started. Ten minutes after that Harry and I were jammed in an interrogation room together. Nymphadora had managed to convey that we couldn't be separated, but not how far we could get. So, shared interrogation room. With easily about fifty people listening in from the other side of a stone wall, which was clear from the outside, and conveyed sound. Because magic. I really needed to research just what kind of extra features I could include in my new costume with the help of some enchanting. Maybe look into materials other than chitin for the armored bits.

{}{}{}{} Harry

Taylor was acting again, but it wasn't like when she was selling off the rings. For that she had acted overconfident. Now she was acting angry and apathetic. Which was weird because apathy shouldn't mix with anything else, but she made it work.

"So, your name is Taylor Hebert?" The auror asking the question was a sturdy looking black man who introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"That's what I called myself." Taylor huffed. "Now it'd be Taylor Potter. Doesn't have much of a ring to it, but then again that's hardly my biggest complaint about this clusterfuck."

Shacklebolt's eyes narrowed.

"When you say that's what you called yourself…"

"I mean that literally." Taylor shrugged. "Search the world, you won't find any paperwork tied to that name unless there's another face to go along with it."

"You've been living under a false identity?"

"Not much choice. Parents disowned me. Even pulled something special out of the back of the family grimoire as a going away present." Taylor smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Couldn't even let me keep my own name." Her eyes briefly darted to me, and I realized with a small pang that was one more nugget of truth she was slipping into her lie. Thanks to the bloody marriage. She really couldn't even keep her old name. Not all of it.

Shacklebolt stiffened.

"Your family wouldn't happen to have sold your name to the fey, would they? There hasn't been a confirmed sighting in-"

Taylor waved him off with a disgusted huff.

"I told you already, they pulled it out of an old family grimoire. No, they haven't had contact with the fey in… hell, I think it was seven generations? Just a spell they were given as payment for services rendered a long, long time ago."

Shacklebolt relaxed.

"And why did they decide to disown you? I'm sorry if that's an invasive question but-"

Taylor waved him off again with another disgusted huff.

"I get it, I get it. Mysterious girl with no past marries a national celebrity out of nowhere. Questions have to be asked because I might be up to something nefarious with the poor boy, beguiled by his hormones as he is."

I only barely swallowed a laugh at Taylor's disgusted tone of voice which I was sure she wasn't faking.

"Never mind the fact we're both underaged and shouldn't even have been allowed to marry. Believe me, I am in no way thrilled about this."

"I'm sure we can come back to that point in a minute but first, your parents?"

"Right, right. The petty, vindictive, genetic donors. So, they made some enemies, which was fine. They could mostly handle themselves. Only they got too full of themselves, and they pissed off a spell crafter, and he got really creative. He whipped up a curse, just for me, so I'd be an embarrassment to the family name."

Taylor held one hand over the table and made a repetitive sweeping motion I knew she didn't need. One fly, two mosquitoes and a cockroach all began to fly around the table. Then as Taylor made the motions smaller and smaller the wobbly uneven circle grew tighter and tighter until finally the cockroach drunkenly crashed into the fly, and both seemingly snapped out of it and took off.

Taylor huffed. Waved her hand and the mosquitoes went back to acting like normal insects. Then she did jazz hands at the auror.

"Tada." She deadpanned. "Mother and Father just couldn't live with the shame of their daughter having all her magic twisted into some funky compulsion spell for creepy crawlies. They disowned me, then dumped me in Vegas with no name, no paperwork, and no way to get any. I managed to make ends meet by playing exterminator for the no-maj's. Wasn't glamorous, but I was getting by."

"So, what happened? How did you and Mister Potter get married?"

Taylor looked at the man like she thought he might be mentally challenged.

"It's Vegas, and I'm underaged, which means I can get drinks without any trouble if I avoid the places that cater to rich tourists and go somewhere desperate for every dime they can get. I finished a job, didn't get stiffed on my pay, and the anniversary of my emancipation was coming up. I decided to get drunk for a night and forget everything."

She hiked her thumb at me.

"Then I wander out of the bar and meet this idiot nursing a bottle of rum on his own. We split what was left of the bottle, and I woke up the next day with a shiny new accessory and a small mountain of bullshit waiting for me in the soon to be warzone you call a country. All because the stupid whore with the thing for older men tracked us down and browbeat a couple drunken teenagers into making it a double wedding!" Taylor snarled that last bit.

Shacklebolt winced, probably in sympathy but maybe a little bit of fear. A little too much of the real Taylor slipped out there.

"Mister Potter, is that accurate?"

"Think you'll have to take her word on her life story, sir. But if you mean how we met? Pretty much. Tonks, sorry, Mrs. Lupin insisted I needed a vacation. She roped in Remus because he knew my parents and looks out for me when he can. She apparently arranged the ceremony in advance. I felt really out of place in the dance club, so I got a bottle of rum and went for a walk. Taylor wandered by looking ready to fall over and sat at the other end of the bench I was sitting on. We talked for a bit and then..."

I shook my head.

"Nothing, no memories past that point. Remus actually remembered though. He and Tonks followed the tracking charm on my bracelet. Dragged us along to be witnesses. Then Mrs. Lupin began to insist on a double wedding and we were all drunk enough to go along with it."

Shacklebolt nodded.

"Well, I'm sorry you both ended up in this situation. But it seems like everything is as in order as it can be given your background, Mrs. Potter. We'll likely spend a bit of time trying to verify your history, but given what you've said… I'm assuming your work was all done under the table? No tax records?"

"Had to be." Taylor shrugged.

"Right. Like I said we'll likely spend a bit of effort trying to verify your story but given your situation I doubt we'll find anything. I'd expect an owl sometime soon with citizenship paperwork for you. Welcome to Britain."

Taylor sighed, nodded and stood with the auror.

"Great if you'll excuse us, I'd like to get behind the strongest walls and wards I can find before my husband's fan club can catch wind of this and organize an assassination attempt."

Shacklebolt nodded and herded us out of the room in time to catch an older woman with a monocle glaring at a very much cowed Mrs. Lupin, and a crowd of gawkers all staring at Taylor and I.

Taylor glared at the crowd and stormed through to start shoving Mrs. Lupin by the shoulders.

"Come on, Nymphadora." Taylor stressed the hated first name. "You swore you knew a place hubby," she snarled the normally affectionate term, "and I would be safe from crazy terrorists and his rabid fan club. If I have to sit here and get gawked at for being a freak one minute more, I'm going to start feeding you spiders."

Tonks yelped.

"Ok, ok, please no spiders! Can't take the floo, that'd separate you kids. We'll apparate from the lobby."

Remus sidled up next to me and squeezed my shoulder.

"Wonderful we have a plan, now hurry up and lead the way. The sooner we're out of here the better. Then you can go back to calling Remus daddy."

Tonks face turned fire engine red, and she spluttered incoherently as she led us through the ministry.

 

[Fencer]

{}{}{}{} Taylor

Snapping back to reality in a park lit only by the setting sun I let myself breath again. The gossip spread through the Ministry building like fire and everyone was saying the same things.

"Poor Potter, married to a crippled American."

"The girl's some sort of freak I tell you! Can't use a wand, but she can make bugs dance a jig."

"It's just like I told you, Adams! Breeding will tell! The boy's father went and married a mudblood and now look what the kids done to a long proud family legacy. Destroyed it!"

It was like being back in Winslow and surrounded by people gossiping for the sake of being cruel all over again. True these people didn't know I was listening, and their stupidly prejudiced worldview didn't mean jack all to me, but the distinctions meant surprisingly little right now.

I'd had more than enough bullshit thrown at me in the past two days and before ending up here had been the whole chain of disasters that had happened since putting on my costume for the first time.

Frankly I could use a vacation. Somewhere far away from Vegas. Maybe take an expedition to the rainforest hunting for useful bugs?

Sure, I might get attacked by the wildlife or some locals that hate outsiders, but after everything else? Those sorts of threats sounded more amusing than dangerous. Had to be safer than magic terrorists. Maybe there were magic bugs there too? Nature was scary enough on its own. Who knew what could happen when you started working in whatever bullshit allowed something like a dragon to get off the ground and breathe fire.

The neighborhood we walked through was painfully uniform. There were no expanded spaces and nothing that seemed even remotely odd…. Ok that was a lie. There were several things that seemed odd in this neighborhood.

A doll collection that bordered on hoarding. A very small and discreet drug den where a teen was carefully weighing out pot, and a rather enthusiastic swingers club I was pulling my swarm away from with all possible speed.

But there was nothing obviously magical about anything in my range. And Harry, rather than relaxing, was getting more and more tense.

"Is this safe house hidden or something? Or are bug senses just getting around the protections because people don't bother to put up protections against them?" I asked as much for clarification as to break the rising tension.

Harry barked a short humorless laugh.

"There're no safe houses here. Just my relative's home."

The way he said that… was I just a magnet for people my age with fucked up home lives? I needed Harry to have his head in the game here not… whatever this was.

"So why are we here?" I asked Remus.

"Dumbledore sent word headquarters might be compromised. We're mostly here to get Harry's things and wait until Dumbledore can get here. Then we'll move you two somewhere else." Remus answered.

Harry didn't look like he believed a word of it and was failing to brace for something. Well… if we were going to get through this shit show and not murder each other he needed to remember that he had someone on his side now.

"I brought a few scorpions with me." I started casually and smirked at the flinches from the Lupins and the "why" look from Harry.

"Some spiders too, but I've got plans for those. The scorpions on the other hand aren't as useful for me. So, rather than fighting to keep them alive through a Scottish winter… you think your relatives might like them?"

Harry snorted, then devolved into quiet chuckles.

"Well, don't do anything on my account. But if they're rude and you feel like showing off?" Harry shrugged. "I'm sure no one could complain about that."

If huh? Funny, I was thinking it was more of a when. From the looks the adults were sharing they agreed.

Harry took a deep breath and pulled ahead before turning down a driveway and knocking on the door.

A fat teen opened the door and grimaced.

"Harry." He sounded uncomfortable, but not hostile.

"Dudley." Harry's voice was flat.

Dudley winced as he saw the rest of us coming up behind Harry.

"You brought more of, of your lot with you? Dad's already in a mood, he's not going to be happy about that."

"Vernon's only happy when I'm out of sight." Harry countered.

Dudley offered only a weak grin in response to that before frowning.

"Are they all coming in, or?"

"Yeah, we shouldn't be here too long but… a lot's happening right now. I don't know. We should be gone later tonight, but…" Harry only shrugged.

Dudley grimaced but let us in.

We made it as far as the kitchen before the shouting started.

"Boy! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing bringing more of these freaks into my home! Bad enough you made me waste time picking you up just so you could run off the next day! Now you're bringing more freaks into my home?! I won't have it! Out! Out with the lot of you!" A fat man, Vernon apparently, shouted.

Harry's shoulders slumped a bit more with every sentence.

Oh look, he was being rude. Which I suppose is my cue.

"Mr. Dursley, I presume. I'm Taylor Potter, your nephew's wife. Wasn't really planned. but it turns out that Las Vegas weddings are a real thing, and magic makes them permanent. Can't say I'm a witch, but do you want to see some scorpions dance?"

The bugs in question swarmed out of my bag onto the table while the fat man was busy sputtering incoherently. When they did in fact start doing a shuffling sort of dance. Vernon lost it and tried to punch me.

I ducked the clumsy blow and whipped my combat baton into his face. His nose broke with a satisfying crunch. As he stumbled about clutching his face, I pulled my knife. When he stopped hollering long enough to notice he stopped moving and went surprisingly pale.

I just smiled. The Dursleys all looked about a hair's breadth from panic. I could just make out the others from the corner of my eye. The Lupins looked exasperated. Harry? The boy was hiding a tiny grin.

"Now that's no way to greet new family." I said with false cheer. As a small swarm began to flood into the room. "Don't worry though, we'll be gone soon enough. Still though, might be best if you three turned in early tonight."

The Dursley's heads bobbled weakly and they backed towards the stairs before bolting up at a dead run.

This? This was pathetic. Yeah, the smart thing to do against a cape is run but just… it didn't even feel like it was worth the effort.

There was a soft exhale behind me. I turned just in time to see Harry break down into wheezy laughter.

Well, at least he was feeling better

{}{}{}{} Harry

Three hours, a small pile of sandwiches and a lot of stilted conversations later, Taylor looked up sharply, about twenty seconds before someone knocked on the door.

Remus hid his wand up his sleeve and went to answer.

"Professor, ahh, um Minster Fudge, Madam Bones, aurors. I uh, can't say we were expecting all of you."

"I spent two hours attempting to dissuade them from this, but neither the Director or the Minister were willing to see reason." Dumbledore's said, As Remus led the group into the kitchen.

Taylor's body language was still relaxed, but I'd already learned that meant nothing, and she was keeping the kitchen free of visible insects as a courtesy to the rest of us. So, I couldn't watch the swarm for clues either. The truly telling bit was that her hands had disappeared into her pockets, no doubt to get a good grip on whatever weapons she thought might serve her best.

Probably the knife. She seemed to like the knife… maybe the pepper spray? There were a lot of people here and with that she could try and sweep the whole group.

Merlin, her way of thinking was rubbing off on me already. What would be the best spells for fighting a group? Incendio? Bombarda?

"I'd intended to come alone. But I find myself with less authority of late, and when they included themselves in this visit their security details… Well, I'm sure you can guess."

"I'm sorry, do you mean to tell me that you people concentrated four high priority targets in one unsecured location?" Taylor asked incredulously. I could clearly hear buzzing through the open kitchen window. "At least tell me no one else knows where the hell you all are." She demanded.

All the new arrivals looked at Taylor like they had forgotten she existed. Then the moment passed and the woman with the monocle smirked.

"We had up every privacy charm we knew when discussing the location and came here immediately after browbeating Dumbledore into bringing us. The aurors were all hand selected for their roles for their loyalty. It's not a guarantee, but it's as good as we'll get in times like this."

Taylor didn't look happy about it, but she nodded a grudging agreement before settling back into her chair. She did not take her hands off of her hidden weapons.

Minister Fudge cleared his throat before stepping up to the table.

"Yes, well all that aside I'm here on urgent business. You see what with the terrible news that, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned… People are afraid and they've lost confidence in the Ministry, if you would make a statement in favor of the tough line we are taking with the Death Eaters…"

"Are you?" I asked. "Taking a tough stance or whatever?"

I only just caught the blink and miss it smirk on Taylor's face.

"I, well, all those captured were sentenced to Azkaban, and I've tripled the DMLE's budget." Fudge fidgeted nervously.

"Which did nothing to stop You-Know-Who from raiding Azkaban a second time." Madam Bones cut in with a sigh. "And while the extra funding is sorely needed, and a great help… It's going to take time to train more Aurors, and I suspect there are leaks in my department. Never mind the fact Azkaban is no longer an option for prisoners, or the fact that the dementors have joined him."

"I'm sorry." I said, not really meaning it. "You spent a year denying what Dumbledore and I tried to tell you, slandering us, you sent Umbridge to harass the entire school where she tortured some of us, and generally acted like she belonged in one of those Death Eater masks! Now you want me to lie to the whole country about how everything is under control?!" And that wasn't even getting into how he had dismissed everything back in third year, or arresting Hagrid in second!

Minister Fudge cringed, then seemed to collapse in on himself.

"I suppose it was always going to be a long shot." He muttered before glancing at everyone else in the room. "Well… I suppose I'd better be going then. There's more than enough work still waiting for me." With a curt nod he and two of the aurors stood and left the room before disaperating from the hallway.

"Madam Bones, I'm afraid some of what I need to discuss is only relevant to the Potters if you'd like to get your reasons for being here out of the way…"

She glared at Dumbledore for a moment before relenting.

"Mrs. Potter-"

"Taylor, please."

"… Taylor then." Madam Bones agreed with a small nod. "First of all, I'm here to apologize to you."

Taylor frowned and glanced at me, but I could only shrug.

"We just met today, what could you possibly need to apologize to me for?" Taylor asked.

"Less me personally and more my department as a whole. You should not have been allowed to leave without someone asking if you would like to press charges."

Mrs. Lupin shot out of her chair only to nervously sit back down under the director's furious glare.

"Quite honestly, I doubt you would have a case against Mrs. Lupin given the circumstances. We could file charges against the officiant of the wedding, but I don't have the resources to spare to press an international case right now. Frankly, Shacklebolt was being overly optimistic when he said someone would investigate your background."

The Director rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

"I only granted Mrs. Lupin three days for a wedding and honeymoon because she said she wanted no regrets with the way things are moving."

The metamorph in question wilted further until her hair was a limp muddy brown.

Taylor closed her eyes and nodded.

"Given that she's distant family of Harry's, I was already resigned to limiting my revenge against Nymphadora." Mrs. Lupin bristled but kept her mouth shut. "I'd love to press charges against the man who married us, but I suspected things wouldn't be so simple."

"We could press charges once the current crisis is handled?" Madam Bones offered.

"If it can be handled." Taylor muttered, then shook her head. "Sorry, I'm… I knew things would be bad. But for those captured to have already been freed, and now they have soul devouring monsters on their side… Harry made this sound like a tough fight, but I'm starting to suspect he understated things."

Madam Bones grimaced, but tellingly didn't object.

"Things are certainly dire," professor Dumbledore spoke into the awkward silence, "but things are not so far gone as for there to be no hope."

Taylor grunted something noncommittal.

"As for the guy back in America… sure, file whatever charges you think might stick, and either pass it off to the locals or we can worry about it later. At the very least he should be investigated in case he is doing this shit as a form of human trafficking."

Madam Bones nodded decisively and fished out a packet of papers.

"You'll need to fill these out and have them filed to confirm your citizenship. After that, expect a short delay before being owled your documentation."

Taylor nodded and accepted the small stack with a muttered, "Thank you."

"Now-" whatever else the director might have said was cut off by a cat patronus dashing through the window and the voice of a panicked young man shouting.

"Director, we need you back at the office there's been an attack!"

"Damn it all, we'll speak another time. Especially you Dumbledore! There are things I need to know to fight this war, and I'd bet my wardrobe you know most of them!"

With that last declaration, the director and remaining aurors disapperated away with a crack.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and favored us all with a wain smile.

"Well, this has been a great deal more interesting than I would have liked. If you would be so kind as to tell an old man how this all came about? I'm rather afraid that rumor has already taken hold and twisted everything beyond recognition. I heard rumors ranging from Mrs. Potter being one of the fey, to her being a muggle imitating magic with some obscene technology."

I retold the story, skipping over the part where Taylor set termites on the chapel and stole all the rings and money kept on site. Mentioned picking up a few things to help Taylor in a fight. Then explained the cover story we came up with.

Dumbledore nodded through it all.

"Please stick to the cover story with anyone you might speak with." Taylor more demanded rather than asked. "The truth is less likely to be believed, and I'm going to need every edge I can get if I'm going to be fighting a bunch of reality warpers. I can't afford to squander the benefits of surprise when it might just save my life."

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"Truthfully there are a few people I'd like to confer with over this, but you are right. In this case the truth is far stranger than fiction. Frankly this would be enough to have even my most steadfast supporters questioning if I'd perhaps gone senile."

Taylor ignored the weak joke and simply gave a sharp nod.

"While their absence had been convenient, I am surprised that the Dursley's have not made an appearance yet." Dumbledore half asked.

"They decided to turn in early." I offered with a grin.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, I suppose there's no point in waking them then, and we should be about our business. Yesterday we discovered Sirius's will. He left you everything which in this case means number twelve Grimmauld Place, all items within it, and a tidy sum of gold."

Great, a bunch of things I didn't want to remind me of Sirius.

"You can keep using it as headquarters." I offered instantly.

"If we're allowed to come and go and you keep us up to date on what the enemy is doing." Taylor interjected.

I glanced at her incredulously, but she only shrugged.

"You don't just give away a house. Especially not a safe house with enough protections to be used as headquarters for a resistance movement." She explained. "And I want to start making dossiers on our enemies. I'm not jumping into this fight until I've had a chance to remake my costume and practice with my new weapons, but I want to know everything I can about who we're going to be fighting."

Dumbledore's eyebrows both rose into his hairline as he looked at Taylor with fresh eyes.

"While I would not feel comfortable sharing all of the Order's intelligence, young lady, I would not deny Harry access to his rightful property. And I will see about releasing some of our more general information to you."

Taylor looked highly unsatisfied, but she nodded grudgingly. She was probably already plotting to steal whatever information Dumbledore left out, or start her own information network, or possibly just planning to force whatever information she wanted out of whatever Death Eater she crossed paths with first.

"Unfortunately, before anyone can resume using the house, we have a problem that needs to be addressed." Dumbledore said, breaking the awkward silence. "Knowing the Black family as you do, Harry, I'm sure you can imagine how displeased they would be for their home to both stray so far from the main line, and for it to be owned by one they would deem impure. It's entirely possible that they may have twisted certain magics in such a way as to deny your claim. In which case it would fall to the closest living relative. In this case that would be Bellatrix."

My chair skidded back and nearly toppled over from how fast I stood.

"Like hell!" I might not want the blasted house, but I wasn't about to let that lunatic profit from her murder of Sirius.

Dumbledore only nodded calmly.

"Naturally none of us are happy about the possibility. However, there is a simple way to check. If you have indeed inherited the house then you will have also inherited Kreacher."

Dumbledore flicked his wand and there was a loud crack. On the floor the house elf in question now rocked back and forth covered only by filthy rags. Taylor was out of her seat in an instant and had her knife leveled at Kreacher only a heartbeat after finding her feet.

"Kreacher won't. Kreacher won't. Kreacher won't." The elf croaked more to itself than to any of us.

"Kreacher be going to work for mistress Bellatrix! Not nasty Potter brat! Kreacher won't work for filthy half blood, won't, won't, won't!"

"As you can see, Harry, Kreacher is rather reluctant however if he is indeed yours, he will not be able to refuse your orders."

Kreacher snarled at the headmaster before continuing to rant to himself.

"I really do not want him." I glared at the elf.

"He's been around your Order for about a year, right?" Taylor asked, eying the elf carefully. "So, he knows a lot of things that should never reach the lich or his followers."

Damn it. That was a good point.

"Indeed." Dumbledore confirmed. "If he has passed into your ownership, Harry, he must obey your orders. Please, test it."

"Won't, won't, won't, won't, wo-"

"Kreacher, shut up!" I shouted the first thing which came to mind as I lost my temper with his never ending denials.

Kreacher made a squeaking noise and grabbed onto his own throat as if he was choking for a few seconds before throwing himself to the floor and banging at it with his hands and feet like a small child throwing a tantrum.

"...If he belongs to Harry," Taylor's face twisted into a grimace at that statement, "does he have to follow my orders as well?"

Dumbledore blinked at Taylor and hummed thoughtfully before waving at Kreacher as if to offer permission.

"Kreacher, as Harry's wife, I order you to stop behaving like that and sit quietly." Taylor said sternly.

Kreacher looked up at her like she had promised to burn Walburga Black's portrait and then sat cross legged with a huff. Taylor looked thoughtful as she finally put her knife away.

"Interesting." Dumbledore stroked his beard with a thoughtful look. "You say you have no magic, but there is enough about you that Kreacher can recognize the truth of your marriage and is forced to respect your claim over him… Very interesting."

The Headmaster shook his head before smiling at us.

"Well, that does simplify matters. I'll send word that we can resume using Grimmauld Place."

I nodded absently, but kept my eyes on the sulking house elf.

"Sir, what do I do with him? I don't need a house elf, and I definitely don't want to have him around all the time."

"Hmm. If I might be so bold, you could order him to go and work at Hogwarts where the castle elves can keep an eye on him."

Taylor looked like she was considering objecting before thinking better of it and shooting me a questioning look.

"That works. Kreacher, I want you to go and work in the kitchens at Hogwarts with the rest of the elves."

Kreacher glared up at me before disappearing with a crack.

"Well now. There are a few other things we may need to discuss in the coming days, but for now? I do believe you could both use a few days to rest somewhere safe and time to start adjusting. I don't suppose you would be opposed to staying with the Weasleys, would you?"

That suggestion was perhaps the best thing I'd heard since Hermione outlined her plan for the toad. Finally, something about this summer was going my way.

 

[Fencer]

AN: Memetic Taylor is easy to write. Ron is pretty straightforward too. Hermione's a bit of a trickier and kept throwing me off, and Harry had me second guessing myself. New characters always seem to take a bit to get a handle on. Also, last time I rewrite Taylor's backstory, didn't even intend to do it again but Hermione just had to ask questions…

Thanks go out to my beta reader @Functionality

---

POV: Taylor

The Burrow was… something else. Structurally unsound seemed the most accurate description. The land it sat on could be summed up as rural. Not really my first choice of residence, but if the idea was to hide magic from the rest of the world… it made a certain sort of sense.

Mrs. Weasley was… plump, and loud, and judgmental.

She'd lit into Harry and I, but mostly me, when she found out we were married. Been easily deflected when Harry shouted it was Tonk's fault while the woman paused to take a breath. Then after ranting out both the Lupins and getting a bare bones explanation, she rounded on us again for underage drinking.

The only thing that kept the whole house from descending on us with questions about the shouting was some spell her husband cast to keep the noise confined to the kitchen. After a full day of bullshit I was officially over my limit for nonsense and condescension.

"Enough! Damn it, enough!" I shouted getting right up in the woman's personal space and very pointedly looking down at her from behind my borrowed glasses. "You are not my mother, and while Harry insists you've been good to him, you're not his mother either!"

Molly puffed up and took a breath, but I was having none of it and took another step closer. Surprised, she stumbled back a step.

"I have had a miserable life the past few years and I decided to take one night to just forget, Harry did the same." Being drugged hadn't been my choice, but I had decided to accept the offered drink for a chance to disconnect from my problems.

"If not for Nymphadora and the bastard that performed the ceremony this would have been one of the most normal teenage things I've ever done! Now I'm neck deep in a war and have a country's worth of strangers judging me without knowing me, and I have a complete stranger shouting in my face!" I leaned in and shouted the last to really drive the point home.

Mrs. Weasley looked torn between being offended and chagrined as my point hit home.

"If we're not going to be welcome here, I've been told Harry now owns a house which is impossible to find, and one of the most heavily warded in the country. Do we need to leave?" I stepped back and crossed my arms, but I did not break eye contact.

This wasn't home. I didn't have my costume, or reputation, or even the kind of bugs I'd prefer in significant quantities. But I absolutely drew the line at being bitched out by a busybody housewife. Especially over things that were actively ruining my life, and not my fault.

"While that is indeed an option," Dumbledore spoke up from where he had settled at the kitchen table, "I dare say you might regret the choice come meal times. Mrs. Weasley's food is not to be missed, and the pantry at Headquarters is… lacking." That incredibly inane bit of advice given the old man took a bite of cookie and a sip of tea.

"Taylor." Harry spoke up. Turning to look I found the boy grimacing. "I know this wasn't a great first impression, but could you give Mrs. Weasley a chance, please?"

I gave my husband the most exasperated look I could muster.

"Harry, are you going to go out of your way to defend everyone that manages to piss me off?" I asked. "Because, believe me, I could hear what they were saying on our way out of the ministry, and it's not going to be a short list."

Harry winced. So did mister Weasley actually.

"I haven't really defended Mrs. Lupin." Ok, point. He'd mostly just wanted me to not attack her. "And it's not like I'm all that impressed with most of wizarding Britain either." Then why was he hell bent on fighting for them? Or was this just standing his ground because the lich would hunt him down if he ran? "But Mrs. Weasley's been really great to me. Most of their family has, except Percy really, but he's just got a thing about authority and government. Please?"

Mrs. Weasley and I eyed one another carefully, and I got the distinct impression this was going to be the age old clash of wife and mother in law. I was not geared for that sort of passive aggressive nonsense. That had always been Emma and Madison's domain. Still, I only had one solid ally here, and he was asking me to try.

Blowing out a breath I nodded.

"In that case," Arthur spoke up, "why don't I show you your rooms? Harry you can have the twins' room, and Taylor you can use Percy's room."

I glanced at Harry but he only gave me an encouraging smile, so I nodded acceptance and shouldered my bag. Hopefully things would be better in the morning.

{}{}{}{} Next Morning

A screech fit to wake the dead had me rolling out of bed blindly fumbling for my knife and calling every bug into the air so I could try and get a full picture of whatever the hell was going on.

I burst into the hallway, knife in hand, swarm building to a crescendo-

"What do you mean you're married?!" A female voice shrieked from two doors down.

"Oh God damn it! I am not doing this again. Especially not this early!"

Three blurs stuck their heads out of the door to Harry's borrowed room. One brown, and two red.

"Don't scream like that." I growled. "I thought we were under attack!" Without even waiting for a response, I stomped back into my borrowed room to find the knife's sheath and my glasses. I was going to need a proper pair soon. I stepped out into the hallway fully dressed and armed three minutes later, running a hand through my hair. I'd need a shower soon, but first… well first I needed to meet my husband's friends.

"So," take the initiative, set the tone, every and any advantage is worth taking, "I'm Taylor." Alright never mind, there was absolutely no initiative to be had here. At least I could act confident. That was worth something. Right?

"Hermione Granger." The now less blurry girl about my age with bushy brown hair stuck her hand out almost aggressively. And I shook it doing my absolute best not to look nonplussed at how aggressive she managed to make a handshake.

"Good to meet you. From what Harry's told me you and luck are a good part of what's kept him out of an early grave." Which was true, though there was definitely some serious skill involved as well on Harry's part. Even if he had tried to play that down. I definitely wanted this girl on my side and helping me figure out how best to handle these Death Eaters.

Hermione blinked and glanced back at Harry, before nodding. Though the fact she kept her face so carefully neutral wasn't quite the positive response I'd hoped for.

The red headed girl, Ginny, Harry had mentioned her, gave me a long look before turning and leaving with a huff.

"Er, I'm Ron. That was Ginny. It's… nice to meet you?" The remaining redhead offered hesitantly.

"Same." And now I was running out of things to say. Skitter, warlord of the bay, defeated by awkward conversation with people my own age. "I don't suppose anyone kept their old school books, did they? I've got some idea of what magic can do, but if I'm going to be neck deep in fighting, I want as much information as I can get as a base. After that… Well, Harry was a bit sparse on details. I really need to know how wizards tend to fight, not just what they can do."

Hermione perked up slightly, but then frowned. "You're talking like you're not a witch…"

"I'm not. I've got magic," which was interesting, but weird and of obviously limited use, "but most of it is tied up in something unique to me." Just to stay consistent I made a pointless gesture with my hand before a few flies started to buzz in a circle around my head.

Ron stepped back in shock, but Hermione only frowned.

"You plan to fight fully trained wizards and witches with bugs?"

"I'm used to fighting out of my weight class." I waved her concern off. "And no, I'm planning to kill fully trained witches and wizards with anything I can. Bugs are just one trick up my sleeve."

"That-" the girl began to speak only for Harry to cut her off.

"Hermione, trust me, Taylor might not have told me everything she's been through, but she's serious, and I wouldn't bet against her just yet."

Hermione and Harry looked at one another. The kind of look that can say volumes. Finally, Hermione nodded and turned to face me.

"You can look through my old text books. I'm sure there are a few copies of the upper year texts somewhere in the house."

"Thank you." I said offering her a small honest smile. Maybe I really could have more allies than Harry.

{}{}{}{} Harry

It had taken no persuasion at all to convince Taylor to come out and do her reading in the shade while we played two versus two quidditch. Mrs. Weasley was being… terse with her, and she leapt on the excuse without hesitating. It was also the only way I'd be able to play with the stupid limit on how far we could get from each other. She seemed fascinated by the brooms for a while, but then settled down and focused on the books she had brought with her, jotting down things in a notebook as she went.

I was less than thrilled when the game came to a stop so the other three could grill me for details where they assumed Taylor wouldn't be able to hear them. I wasn't sure if they were right or not. Taylor had been more than a little vague about her power and how it all worked, but she mentioned being able to hear and see with bugs, if she had enough in place.

We were up in the air so any bugs nearby would be obvious, and I didn't think she'd have enough secreted away in hair or clothes to follow what we were saying, but that was guesswork at best. Empty hope at worst. Even ignoring the chance that she might hear, talking behind her back felt like a betrayal, and she wasn't stupid. Even if she couldn't hear the words, she would guess the topic.

"Guys really there's nothing wrong… alright that's not true. There is a lot wrong with this, but none of it is Taylor's fault." I said trying to cut the talk off before it could get started.

"Harry, mate, that bird came out waving a knife when she heard Hermione shriek this morning." Ron said with a carefully patient tone.

I sighed and leaned back letting my broom bob back and forth slightly.

"Taylor is a fighter, probably more so than any of us. She was actually thinking about just… consummating the wedding and vanishing into the crowds in the States. But when we told her about Voldemort, she offered to come help. We're… kind of gambling on who survives the fight?"

"I beg your pardon?!" Hermione hissed.

"If we both die fighting Death Eaters, then the whole mess won't matter anymore." I said.

Hermione reeled back, Ron and Ginny went wide eyed, and I pushed on before anyone could comment.

"If one of us dies the survivor is free and clear, and if we both live… We can worry about that if we get there." I looked away easily spotting Taylor against the grass. She didn't seem to be paying us any attention, but that really didn't mean much with her. "She's… most people hear about Voldemort dodging death? They kind of give up. She started trying to figure out how he did it, and if we could undo it. I told her about Death Eaters trying to kill me and she just shrugs and says I should return the favor. When we explained how many people he was going to hurt or kill? She volunteered to come here and help."

"Harry, that's not normal." Hermione stated firmly. "What kind of person just up and volunteers to risk their life fighting a mad man for someone they just met?!"

"She's not doing it for me, Hermione." I shook my head. "This is more like, like my saving people thing." And saying it out loud like that made some of the pieces click into place. "It's a lot like that. But… but not quite. She's… angrier, more focused. I'd rush in to save someone, and I think she would too, but for her… I think ending the threat matters more."

Me being a target wasn't enough to sway her on its own. Finding out that Voldemort would go after anyone he didn't like? That had lit a fire in her. If it was just about saving people, I don't think we would have left the states with so many weapons, or nearly so much ammunition.

"So, what?" Ron asked. "She's our age and just decides she's going to come fight a war? Mate, that's not normal."

"None of us are normal." I countered flatly. "We make a yearly habit of running towards danger and getting away in one piece." Well, not Ginny but she had come to the Ministry with us.

That scored a hit with Ron and Ginny judging by the dual flinches, but Hermione only frowned harder.

"Harry, this whole mess is so improbable that it borders on the unbelievable." Hermione insisted. "You go on a surprise trip to America, get drunk, get married, and the girl you get married to is an outcast from magical society who has had their magic twisted in a way that defies our understanding of magic in general! It makes no sense!"

Well, she wasn't wrong. Taylor sort of trusted my judgment about my friends, but she also insisted that the existence of mind reading and truth potions made keeping her origins secret a bit more important.

With a groan I angled my broom down towards Taylor. The others protested, but when I didn't turn back, they quieted down and followed.

Taylor glanced up with narrowed eyes as I got close.

"Harry?"

"Hermione doesn't buy that all of this was random chance, or the explanation about your magic."

"You did say she was clever." Taylor's lips twitched up for a moment as the other landed behind me.

"I did." I answered with a grin.

"Right so, 'I don't trust the stranger around my friend, her story doesn't make sense, something something magic doesn't work that way.' How am I doing so far?"

Hermione frowned outright and nodded firmly.

"I might not know everything about magic, but the ability to control bugs the way you do at the cost of your magic breaks at least one rule of magic as we know it, and I know that witches and wizards can't use the magic of other species. So, there's no way the fae could just hand out a human spell that does something they're infamous for. Then you just happen to stumble across Harry and end up married?" She shook her head. "One of those I could believe, we've seen and done enough crazy things to not dismiss them on their own, but all of them together at once?"

Taylor actually grinned.

"It would have made things simpler if you weren't quite that sharp, but I'm sure I'll appreciate it when it's pointed at someone else. I know I did when… well never mind. Sit down I guess."

Taylor waited patiently until everyone did before continuing.

"I'm not going to tell you everything, I'm going to fudge a few details, but it will be more than just the cover story I'm using."

Hermione frowned then looked at me.

"Honestly the full story is pretty much unbelievable, even by our standards." I scratched the back of my neck. "And it's kind of fun listening to Taylor invent stories on the spot that make sense."

"Harry…." Hermione turned her glare on me but I shook my head.

"Taylor, other than paranoia, do you have a good reason for doing the whole make up a half true story thing right now?" I asked

Taylor actually took a moment to consider that.

"Well, if someone gets it out of them it might keep a few assholes running in circles… and honestly there are enough assholes back home as is. Last thing we need is to import some of your issues, or for the lich to get hold of some of my enemies."

"... Do you really think they could find, er, them?" I asked.

"I know I don't want to take the risk. The Imperious curse you told me about? Depending on who they manage to snag and how well it works? That could be really, really bad."

"How bad?" Ron asked.

"Living murder blender the size of cow, man that turns into a dragon if he fights long enough, and a girl who can make bombs that turn humans to glass." Taylor described flatly. "Those were some of the worst from home. And there are others as bad or worse."

That… was new information. Merlin, no wonder she didn't want to risk the Death Eaters figuring out portals to her earth. Sure, it sounded impossible, but it wasn't worth the risk.

"Yeah, on that note, Taylor, could you please tell us a story that's missing some of the more important details?" I asked.

No one objected.

"Right, so, I was never a witch, my parents weren't magical either. But I've got an ability." Flies circled her head at a gesture. "And I'm not the only one. Your powers are consistent and learned, ours… aren't. They're all different and mostly instinctive. Thing is, we're rare. There are enough of us to get the word to anyone new about how things are done, but definitely not enough to get organized or anything like that."

She took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing.

"We don't exactly mix well with government, magic or not. People see power and decide they want to control it, or study it. Take a guess what our response is?"

"You hide." Hermione answered.

"Mm, to one degree or another. But most people aren't interested in living off the grid. Some of us manage to hold relatively normal jobs, but others? You can make a lot of money if you're willing to treat laws as… suggestions. And if you're willing to do that it's not such a stretch to start recruiting, and if all you care about is money and power, well why take no for an answer? Eventually that's just the culture."

Merlin, she could spin a story out of nothing. I was half tempted to believe it, and I already knew the real story!

Hermione's eyes narrowed, again.

"You're a criminal." Hermione accused.

"Most of us are." Taylor shrugged. "If you want to avoid government notice, work with the people who do that as part of their job. As long as we don't draw attention by doing anything inexplicable where people might notice? We're usually good. But that does mean you can end up with competing groups. And one of my enemies had an ace up their sleeve. One minute I was trying to negotiate. The next I woke up strapped to a table."

"I got a uselessly cryptic warning, and a promise I can't trust that my friends were fine, but being relocated. Then I was drugged and dumped in Vegas not far from Harry. Given the things she said, the woman's almost certainly some sort of precog, a sort of seer, but given what Harry has told me, more reliable, and useful. It's entirely possible she intended for this to happen."

"Why? You said you avoid governments. Why put you in a position where all of magical Britain is aware of you?" Hermione demanded.

"Hell if I know." Taylor shrugged. "I've been calling her crazy bitch for a reason, well, multiple reasons. But that's certainly one of them."

"And helping Harry? Why would a criminal hiding from governments get involved in our war." Hermione demanded.

Taylor gave Hermione a very unimpressed look.

"There are all kinds of criminals. Since I got sucked into things? I've fought neo Nazis, drug dealers, slavers, and wandering serial killers. My friends and I? My team? We specialized in snatch and grab, robbery. You would not believe how often we found ourselves fighting against the absolute worst of humanity. I've got morals, more flexible than what you're used to maybe, but there are lines. This lich doesn't seem to care about any of them. I do not, like that."

As scary as all that sounded, I really hoped that part of this lie was true. We could use all the experience we could get. I really needed to have a long talk with Taylor about the particulars of her history sometime soon.

Taylor took a breath and leaned back.

"Look, I have no way of finding my friends. My other plan? Was to disappear into the criminal underworld of a strange city, where I don't know the players or the powers. And to do that I'd need to sleep with a complete stranger." She gestured to me. "So, when Harry explained how nasty this enemy of yours is, and just how many people could get hurt? It didn't feel right to walk away. It also gives us a buffer between 'nice to meet you,' and the honeymoon."

Hermione winced, and Ginny frowned, but both girls nodded a little hesitantly. Ron hummed before perking up.

"Well, if that's all sorted… can we get back to the game?" Ron said as he stood and headed for the brooms.

"Ron you can't just shrug this off!" Hermione scolded. "The girl is a criminal!"

"Didn't you keep a reporter captive in a jar, then blackmail her?" Taylor asked.

I laughed and caught a glare from Hermione for it.

"What? She has a point. And really? We need all the help we can get, Hermione."

I grabbed Hermione by the shoulder and steered her towards the brooms.

"But Harry-"

"Hermione, please. It's been a long few days. I really want to spend some time in the air. Taylor is on our side, and to be perfectly fair we broke into the ministry last year. We don't have the best record with laws or rules either."

She kept arguing, but by the time I got her back into the air she'd mostly subsided to grumbling. This definitely wasn't the end of it, but it was a start. Honestly was it too much to ask for my friends to not pick fights with my very scary criminal wife?

Dumb question. Yes. Yes, that would be asking entirely too much. Maybe Taylor and I should spend some time at Grimmauld place this summer. Give everyone a little breathing room and Taylor a chance to try and get the information she wanted. Might be for the best. Just maybe in a few days after I had some time flying. I really needed a break after that vacation.

AN: For those of you waiting on updates to my other ongoing fics I'm going to tackle Using the Force Made Easy next, then Archer, then back to this in a rotation. Pray for my muse folks Palpatine is mind cancer and writing him is going to be a bitch. Also, my kick ass beta reader @Functionality has suggested I find a second beta reader for this fic because HP is not one of their fandoms and they don't have all the background info. personally given what the fandom has done to HP I'm pretty sure no misstep I might make could even be that bad as opposed to some of the nonsense they've cooked up over the years, but I bow to the beta's advice. If you're interested in an unfortunately intermittent bit of work in exchange for early access uhhhh, let me know? Just... have patience with me. For I am always a bit unsure about starting a new working relationship for my hobby. I've had a range of experiences with this and I'm a bit defensive about my babies.

 

[Fencer]

AN: I'm supposed to have a writing rotation… well, fuck. At least I'm writing, and I do have a plan for the Archer update. The real trick is now I have to get creative for shit to go on outside the videos for my star wars fic… possibly. Honestly Functionality I might ask you to play sounding board for some shit soon because I'm basically out of plans and down to ideas there.

Hopefully I managed to give Harry a bit more personality in this one.

Thank the beta folks. Functionality does great work.

---

{}{}{}{} Taylor

"-believe we let you into our home!"

I was not used to people screaming at me. Dad kept a pretty solid lid on his temper most of the time. The trio never needed to shout. Even the Protectorate heroes and other villains didn't erupt into screaming fits like Molly Weasley.

"-don't know what Harry was thinking, not warning us!"

I did not appreciate it.

"-only knows what you have planned for the poor boy, but I'll not let you take advantage of him!"

I also did not appreciate that little bitch Ginny going to mommy with my 'dirty little secret.' If that bitch only knew what I'd actually done… Well, this was just one more reason why giving people the full story was stupid.

"Are you even listening to me?!"

"Everyone within three miles is listening, whether they want to or not. I am trying to see how many bees buzzing by my ears it takes to drown out your voice." I pulled down my hood to show almost twenty bees hanging from my hair by my ears. "Honestly it's just as annoying, and I can still hear you over them so I'll have to try something else next."

Molly puffed up like an angry cat and hissed like a tea kettle.

"Taylor,-" Harry started to speak up, no doubt to play peacemaker, but I was in no mood to humor him, or this self righteous banshee.

"No!" I snapped. "I told your friends a bit about my background because you insisted I could trust them. It took her-" I jabbed a finger at Ginny, "just two days to betray that trust. And now I'm getting screamed at again! By someone who knows none of the context and is judging me for things she knows nothing about."

"There is no good justification for being a criminal!"

This stupid, ignorant, holier than thou, bitch!

"There are dozens of perfectly good reasons, you sanctimonious twit!" I shouted right back. "My friends? My gang? Rachel was on the run for years after escaping an abusive foster home. Lisa was running from parents that were trying to exploit her for money. Alec fled Canada to escape his abusive, cult leader, rapist, father. Brian just wanted to earn enough money to get custody of his sister away from his drug addict mother. The system isn't perfect and sometimes people have to fend for themselves!"

I was saying too much. I never meant to share this. But I was just so done. I'd been cut off from my world for a week, married to a complete stranger, paraded through the press as a harlot out to corrupt a national hero, and I'd put up with three days of passive aggressive sniping culminating in this.

"I shouldn't have fallen in with them. I didn't have a good reason. But they were kind to me. When no one else had been! And given what I found out later? The only better group I could possibly have hooked up with included a girl that tried to kill me! Twice!" Which didn't even get into the likes of Armsmaster, Piggot, or that asshat Tagg.

"I spent most of my time trying to stay alive, and fighting people that would give you nightmares for the rest of your life! But no, your daughter came running to you to spill my "secrets," and suddenly I'm an irredeemable force for evil. Suddenly I'm out to get Harry, and you, and anyone else you can think to be offended for!"

"As if a criminal hedge witch could know anything about nightmares from fights with common criminals!" Molly spat. "I lived through the last war. Why I have half a mind-"

I slapped her across the face.

"How dare you!" I seethed. "You ignorant small minded, bitch! Brian got his nervous system pulled out of his body trying to stop a serial killer! It was a miracle he could be put back together! I put my life on the line to get a little girl away from a psychopath who was keeping her drugged up in an underground bunker, and I only survived by the skin of my teeth! And that was just two fights out of dozens!"

Molly looked off balance. Hermione looked sick. Ginny looked like she was starting to regret setting this in motion. Harry kept fidgeting like he didn't know what he was supposed to do, or maybe he was just afraid we would both jump down his throat if he gave us an alternate target. And I, I was just done.

This woman wasn't worth the effort it would take to convince her. I wasn't going to keep wasting time trying to defend myself, or my friends, to people who lacked all of the necessary context. I didn't have to sit here and listen to this. Spinning on my heel, I headed for my assigned room ignoring everyone's protests at my exit.

I dug a gun out of my bag. I hadn't had a chance to clean this one yet, and I needed to get familiar with all my potential weapons. Pulling out the cleaning kit I got started on learning the mechanics of yet another slightly different gun. A knock at the door was in no way welcome.

"Go away or eat a bullet!" I shouted without looking up.

The door cracked open regardless. I snapped off a glare only to see Harry step in. Stupid. I was getting lax, or distracted. When had I lost track of which bug was marking who?

"Taylor?"

"Go away, Harry." I pulled apart the gun with a bit more force than necessary, laying the pieces out on the cleaning cloth.

"Look, I just, that wasn't, you're normally in better control of yourself?" He half asked with all the subtlety of a socially awkward teenage boy.

I buried myself in the swarm trying not to start screaming at him as I got to work with the cleaning rag.

"I am trapped in an alternate dimension. I am trying to help stop a genocidal madman. I'm fighting to make sense of your insane abilities which defy almost every standard I'm used to. Never mind that everyone but you is dismissive, condescending, or outright insulting when they talk to me because my hard earned reputation was left behind when I was punted into this stupidly soft dimension!" I snarled.

"Soft?"

"You have mostly stable countries. You have one genocidal madman who seems mostly confined to a single country, and really only one community within said country." I snapped.

"We have three monsters capable of wiping major cities off the map, who do so regularly. America has a band of wandering murderers with individual kill counts numbering in the hundreds or thousands, which has managed to survive for decades. China is ruled by a group controlling an army of brainwashed capes. A large chunk of Russia was evacuated because it was safer than risking waking up and annoying one man. They stopped producing maps showing countries in southern Africa before I entered grade school, because half of the continent was controlled by an ever shifting line up of parahuman warlords, and borders rarely last more than a year."

Harry said nothing.

"Yes, your world has issues, but trying to compare your world to mine… Harry, we're dying. One city, one disaster at a time, we're dying, and I'm not sure anyone can stop it, though I'm going to try if I ever get back. You have one damn megalomaniac, with, what? Twenty lieutenants, and a slowly growing army? It's just so much smaller, so much more contained. But it feels like no one is bothering to prepare!"

I glared at him.

"You know what's coming. More than anyone save the older generation, you know what's coming. But you're perfectly happy to spend your time playing games when you could be preparing. When you could be studying magic, or tactics, or harassing your headmaster about how the fucker managed to not die. The hell is wrong with all of you!"

God I missed my friends. Sure, Alec and Aisha would have been slacking off and cracking jokes, and Rachel wouldn't have given a fuck about these people if they couldn't be bothered to stand up for themselves. But Lisa and Brian would have been right here with me, planning and studying, and just trying to get on top of everything before it could blow up in our faces. I missed them so damn much right now.

{}{}{}{} Harry

Well, that stung. And I'd never seen Taylor this… raw? Uncontrolled? I mean sure, we'd basically known one another for a week, but she hadn't been this off balance when she found out we were married with no chance of divorce. She'd barely raised an eyebrow at Voldemort's resurrection. But now she was just… Angry, and mean, and still incredibly terrifying as she methodically cleaned a gun I knew for a fact she'd had for less than a week.

"I, you're not wrong. But all last year was nothing but stress, studying, and it ended with another near death experience and..." Damn it Padfoot. Why did you have to stand in front of the bloody veil, wasn't dueling Belatrix dangerous enough already?

I carefully sat down next to her.

"Vegas was supposed to be a chance to relax, but that obviously didn't work out so well. Being in the air, especially with my friends… I needed that. A lot."

Taylor's harsh movements slowed to a stop. With a sigh she put down the pieces of the gun and faced me fully.

"I'm sorry. I've been going non stop for months now trying to keep myself and my people alive. I don't… I'm not even sure what I'd do with downtime anymore. All I can see is how much there is to do to prepare, and…" She waved helplessly at the whole of the house. "Mr. Weasley is doing something as part of his job and the order. Everyone else? Especially Molly." Taylor scoffed. "It's like she thinks burying her head in the sand will make all the bad things go away! And She just keeps taking shots at me, or getting in my face! Do you have any idea how hard it is not to start feeding her flies until she learns to keep her mouth shut?! How am I supposed to work with these people?!"

Risking my life, I did the only thing I could think of. I gave her a hug.

For a full ten count she didn't respond beyond going stiff as a board. I honestly expected to start feeling spider bites, but finally she relaxed a fraction and returned the hug. Cautiously.

"I'm sorry." I said, continuing to risk my life by not letting go. "I know this must all be… Kind of insane for you. Even with your background. I've been, well I've been kind of lost in my own issues." I admitted.

And damn it all I should be entitled to at least that much after everything! But I did have some sort of responsibility to Taylor in all this, and I'd been setting it aside as best I could because I just didn't have it in me to deal with her problems and mine without a chance to destress a bit. But some of my issues were issues we shared. I could have, I don't know. Talked to her about them instead of just running off to hang out with Ron and Hermione.

This… this was going to be hard. Making this work. Not even making the marriage work, just going from complete strangers to two people who could work together and trust each other in a fight. Helping her fit in with the friends I already had. Having her back when some of those friends decided they wanted to be particularly stupid, and make an enemy of a biblical plague.

Well, I could get a start on that at least.

"Mr. Weasley said Dumbledore will be by later tonight. He wants, well he wants my help with recruiting a teacher. Though he didn't really explain how I'm supposed to help with that… Anyway, I figured we might as well take the chance for what it is. Get a ride to headquarters out of it? We can stay there for a bit. Maybe give you a chance to start putting together those files you wanted? See if I can't badger some dueling tips out of whoever's there?"

For a moment Taylor didn't respond. Then she let out a slow breath.

"Yeah. Yeah alright." Gently she pushed me off and turned back to the gun she had been cleaning. "I'll finish with this and then get packed. You should take the chance to do the same before Dumbledore gets here… Unless you want to just throw your stuff in my bag?"

Standing up I nodded.

"Yeah, I'll pack my trunk, and see if Mr. Weasley doesn't mind shrinking it to fit in there."

"Sounds good."

I was almost out the door when Taylor spoke up again.

"Harry? Thanks."

It wasn't the warmest thank you I'd ever gotten, but it definitely sounded sincere.

"No problem, Taylor. We're in this together after all."

 

[Fencer]

AN: *Frustrated author noise* My muse is being a tetchy useless shit. Seriously I'm just about out of stories to catch up on or start reading, and my muse has decided this means it needs to act like its mainlining pixie sticks to keep me entertained. I've been bouncing from new ideas, to older snippets, to omakes for a couple of stories that I love. But I think I have it going in the right direction again.

Thank Functionality folks, he does great work and puts up with my non schedule.

POV: Harry

Shaking off the feel of apparition, I shared a look with Taylor. We both glanced at Professor Dumbledore's now withered hand then back at one another.

"Professor, I know you told Mrs. Weasley not to worry about it, but, your hand…" I asked carefully.

"Ah, well, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised at your curiosity. Suffice to say I'm not quite as quick as I once was. Though I daresay I was quick enough to stop it from spreading."

"Maybe it's just the American in me, but that's a lot less reassuring than 'you should see the other guy.'" Taylor said. "Was it an ambush or did someone tag you with a lucky hit?"

"Ahh, well, in this case neither. I had an unfortunate brush with a cursed object." Dumbledore admitted.

Taylor nearly missed a step.

"Cursed objects? So, what? All someone needs to do is lay a curse on a doorknob or something and they could…" She cursed under her breath. "People like me are a nightmare for security, but I'm starting to think magic is so much worse. Honestly, I know of more than a few capes who put most of what I've been reading to shame, but you're all just so diverse."

"Laying powerful curses on an object is not a simple or easy task." The headmaster began to lecture. "Which is not to say that people with the skill to do so do not exist. Only that they are rare. Voldemort is capable of such, as are some curse breakers and enchanters. But it is an exacting skill to develop, and not one favored by our enemies."

Taylor just muttered something about bugs and poison checkers. Not too long ago that would have sounded paranoid. Now I was wondering if it was paranoid enough. Could bugs trigger enchantments? Would something poisonous to humans affect bugs? Maybe there would be something in headquarters to test that on.

"We're going to need to pick a day when Harry and I can go out and get some essentials." Taylor said, changing the topic. "Which probably means we'll need to visit the bank he's mentioned. Still can't believe everything is paid for in gold. Wouldn't expect credit cards, but no checks?" Taylor shook her head.

Professor Dumbledore paused for a bare moment before continuing on casual as anything.

"Oh, whatever for?"

"Personally? Glasses, at least two pairs so I have one to wear and one to build into my next mask. An extra spare wouldn't hurt either though I read something about repair charms? So, two should be fine. Harry's prescription isn't too far off mine, but it isn't a match either." She shot a glance my way. "Might not hurt to get you a pair either, Harry. Those look more than a bit worn, and it's good to check the prescription hasn't changed."

I nodded a bit absently. It certainly couldn't hurt. Besides, Katie had mentioned prescription goggles for quidditch at some point, and I'd never gotten around to looking into that. Actually, those might be better in a fight too. Less chance of them getting knocked off.

… Would it be stupid to ask Taylor to make me a mask too? I didn't want to copy the Death Eaters, but playing super hero with a genuine villain… Who happens to be my wife… and now it's a weird thought. Damn Dean and his stupid magazines.

"Beyond that? I want to get Harry a wand holster. It's important to take proper care of your weapons. There are probably medicinal potions I should be adding to my bug out bag. Body armor for both of us… and probably his friends, if there is something that's spell resistant we can buy. I have no idea what kind of magical things might make for good weapons or distractions, but I'm sure there are a few. Even if I have to get creative. It's all going to depend on how much Harry is willing to spend. Well, that and how much I can trade for, or otherwise acquire."

Which meant steal. Although I wasn't sure what she might have to trade with. Maybe insect based potion ingredients? There were plenty of those, but they weren't exactly the priciest ingredients.

Body armor was probably a good idea even if it wouldn't stop an unforgivable. It probably would have saved Hermione from that hit she had taken in the Ministry. How much was I willing to spend? To keep us safe and alive… I'd be pretty ok with emptying my vault if it kept us all in one piece. I could always get a job after, if I lived… Maybe I shouldn't admit that out loud though. Taking it one purchase at a time would be smarter than giving her a blank check.

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully, even as he was frowning.

"Glasses will have to be handled in person, certainly, but having you two out and about poses something of a security risk as I'm sure you can imagine. And any such trip will require someone to act as guard, which will require freeing them from other duties. For glasses I'm sure we can arrange something in the next few days. For the rest… hmm. You will need to visit Gringotts for funds, but it's far too risky to simply allow the pair of you to wander Diagon alley. Mail orders would be safer, though purchases would need to be delivered somewhere else before getting sent on to headquarters."

Taylor didn't look thrilled, but she did look mostly accepting.

"Are there any options for spell resistant body armor?" I asked, genuinely curious now.

"A few." Dumbledore admitted absently. "Various magical animal hides are used for that purpose. Dragonhide is the most effective, and most expensive, though it will require an out of country order. The last man to work with it in Britain died in the last war for refusing to sell to the Death Eaters."

"What about Basilisk hide?" I asked. If that would work, we could probably outfit all of Hogwarts and the Aurors with more left over.

"Ahh, well, had the corpse been properly handled after it was killed… but it's been dead three years already. I doubt the hide is still in good enough condition to be worked with. Or if portions of the hide are still usable, I dare say you would be hard pressed to remove the stench of decay, even with magic." Professor Dumbledor said.

Taylor pinched the bridge of her nose.

I could all too easily imagine the sort of rant she was holding in about wasting so much valuable material. Which, fair. But I'd been just about dead on my feet by the time everything was done, and then the school year was over. Also, I was twelve. If someone was supposed to think of it at the time it should have been the Professors.

"Ahh, here we are." Professor Dumbledore announced in front of a small stone house. "Come along then let us see if we can't convince Horace to join us at Hogwarts this coming year."

"Is there any particular reason he would trash the place, and turn himself into an armchair?" Taylor asked, looking toward the house dubiously.

Professor Dumbledore paused a moment before nodding.

"Horace, like many others, is deathly afraid of Lord Voldemort. He has gone to rather extreme measures to disappear from society since rumors of Voldemort's resurrection first spread. We must have tripped an alert when we arrived."

Taylor twitched, but said nothing. It only took a second for me to guess why. Anyone could learn to set up some kind of alert. And apparently, they could be subtle enough that even Professor Dumbledore might miss them. That was… well it had a lot of potential, but it was also something we would need to keep in mind because anyone else might also know it.

"Come along then. I'm sure Horace will be thrilled to meet the both of you."

"Can't remember the last time anyone was thrilled to meet me." Taylor muttered. But she jammed her hands in her sweatshirt pocket and followed me in.

The place really was trashed. Bottles of alcohol, shattered. Furniture, destroyed. Carpet, walls, and ceiling: singed, chipped, and gouged. Professor Dumbledore was looking over the carnage with a bemused smile. Taylor wearing a flat, if dour, expression walked past the Professor and poked the one intact chair with her foot.

"If you turned yourself into a chair hoping a young girl would sit on you, you and I are going to have a very serious problem. And I think the headmaster would need to rethink hiring you." She said.

Professor Dumbledore sagged slightly and actually seemed to pout at Taylor's back.

There was a delay of only a few seconds before the chair started to shift. The now revealed man was old, though not so obviously aged as Professor Dumbledore, a great deal rounder, and red faced with obvious embarrassment.

"Dear girl, I meant nothing of the sort!" He insisted. "How on earth did you know I was the chair?" He asked.

"Mrs. Potter, despite what the press have been saying, is a young woman of surprising skill." Dumbledore spoke up. "Speaking for myself Horace, the lack of Dark Mark over the home was a rather large clue."

"Ahh, blast. Knew I was forgetting something." Horace muttered as he began casting repair charms about the room. "Still not too shabby for a rush job."

"Indeed." Dumbledore said, before pitching in to help repair the room and everything in it.

In under a minute everything was back to pristine condition.

The Professor and Mr. Slughorn began to talk, but I was distracted watching Taylor carefully pick up and examine a detailed glass figurine of a chubby little angel. Even as jaded and calm as she tended to be there was a hint of wonder as she examined the repaired glass figure and found no faults or cracks. With a shake of her head, she placed it back on a shelf and turned to me with a raised eyebrow. Not sure what to say I just offered a shrug and a small grin.

"No, Albus! Absolutely not!" Slughorn declared.

"Very well then. Would you at least be so kind as to let an old friend use your washroom before leaving?" Professor Dumbledor asked.

"I, oh very well down the hall on your left." Slughorn sighed.

Taylor and I shared a glance both wondering just what we were supposed to do in this situation. The silence didn't even stretch long enough to become awkward before Slughorn started talking to fill it.

{}{}{}{} POV: Taylor.

"That was pretty slick, Harry, talking him into agreeing like that." I said, offering a bit of honest praise. Getting people to change their minds wasn't a simple trick, and Harry had managed it almost naturally.

"I'm not even sure what I did." Harry admitted sounding just a bit baffled.

My lips quirked up into a fleeting grin. Natural charisma might not be reliable, but considering how many manipulators and liars I'd dealt with? Bumbling honesty was actually a refreshing change of pace. Now if only I actually believed Dumbledore was cut from the same cloth. But leaving Harry and Slughorn alone, knowing Slughorn liked famous people and Harry's mother had been one of his favorite students? Never mind the old man's timing.

No, Dumbledore was perfectly able to play the manipulator. I just didn't know him well enough to guess if this was normal or not. Or if I should be worried about it.

"Well, we've dallied long enough I should say." Dumbledore said. "Come along then."

Harry and I grasped the old man by the elbow and we vanished in another gut wrenching crack.

Five quick steps and we were off the new street and into a building that I barely had a chance to look at. The place didn't give a great first impression.

It was like someone was only part way through renovating a haunted house that had stood vacant for years. There were a few interesting bugs. Including something humanoid with wings that just had to be magic. All of which was interesting, but…

With a sigh I stepped around the headmaster and marched for the kitchen. Dumbledore and Harry shared a look before following in my wake.

Pushing open the door I stepped in to just what I'd known I'd see. A scruffy looking middle aged man with a receding hairline stuffing the silverware into an expanded pouch.

I cleared my throat very pointedly and glared.

The man spun on his heel, one fist full of spoons, and dropped the bag in favor of groping for his wand. Considering I was still sandbagging my power I decided to meet a potential threat with full expediency. I hit him full in the face with my pepper spray.

The thief went down howling, and his wand bounced off into a corner. Dumbledore sighed from the door.

"Merlin damn it, Mundungus."

Then Harry started shouting. And the thief was still howling, and Dumbledore utterly failed to calm either down. Using the distraction, I secreted away the expanded pouch and return the silverware to the cabinets.

{}{}{}{}

Harry paced across the sitting room floor while I took careful notes of the meeting being held downstairs in the kitchen. Unsurprisingly most of Dumbledore's order was either skeptical of or outright dismissive of me. The range of reasons why was a bit surprising though.

Molly hated me for being a criminal with the audacity to slap her. Mundungus thought I was a menace, and a surprising number of people supposedly fighting for equality just outright assumed my lack of magic made me a non threat. The Lupins insistence to the contrary did absolutely nothing to change anyone's opinions.

Honestly, if these idiots weren't even willing to believe a first hand account over the idiotic speculation of a newspaper that hadn't even interviewed me… Would any intelligence I got from listening in on these meetings even be trustworthy? Was I going to have to personally confirm every scrap of information?

Dumbledore finally dragged the gossip session masquerading as a resistance movement onto relevant topics but… It was so much worse than even my lowest expectations. They had a list of known Death Eaters and sympathizers. They were barely managing to keep eyes on a few of them and the rest of their efforts could be summarized as sending envoys to communities of ostracized sapient creatures in the hopes that they would stay out of the fight to maintain their miserable existence instead of backing the terrorists promising them a better future.

There was no talk of making key figures on the other side vanish. No discussion about working with elements of the government that opposed the Lich. No discussion of stockpiling medicinal potions, or establishing safe houses, or even any kind of training regime to get the group ready for combat.

Hell, their most respected fighter seemed to be a retiree that never learned to duck. Obviously, he'd seen a lot of combat, or at least one very thorough torture session, but really? Magic or no magic, someone that old had to be slowing down.

The meeting started to break down into small groups gossiping and with a huff I shoved the notes towards Harry and took over pacing while he read. A few minutes later Harry looked up from the last page.

"Maybe I'm just not used to this sort of thing, but shouldn't there be more than this? It doesn't sound like they're really doing a whole lot. I mean Mister Weasley has his hands full trying to maintain the statue of secrecy but the rest…"

"Unless they've got some sort of spell up, they really aren't doing anything important. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who the so-called Dark Creatures are going to side with. We've got nothing they want, and the Lich is promising them better lives. If what they were saying about werewolves' standards of living is true, I can't even blame them for wanting a better life."

Harry grunted.

"This isn't a resistance movement Harry. It's barely better than a social club. Half the meeting was about you and me and it wasn't even about how I could help."

"Maybe this was just a slow meeting? Maybe they'll discuss important things at the next one?"

I scoffed, but didn't dismiss the idea entirely. This could have been an emergency meeting just to confirm this safe house was still usable and touch base on a few ongoing missions. I just didn't fully believe that. Not when the closest they got to discussing combat missions was assigning who was on duty for emergency response and cleaning up the aftermath of attacks.

Harry put down my notes and sprawled on the couch.

"I hate this place."

I blinked at the change of topic and settled into a chair giving Harry my… Well, not my full attention. Not when I was still tracking everyone and eavesdropping, but I could worry about building an actual resistance movement later.

"Sirius hated this place. It was a constant reminder of his awful childhood and he was stuck here for a year before…"

"… I'm sorry." I said. "I didn't realize you felt that way about this place."

Harry grunted.

"It just reminds me of him, and how miserable he must have been right up until the end when he decided to do something as stupid as duel Bellatrix in front of the Veil of Death."

Well… one more thing to ask about at some point because that was an ominous name.

"… What was he like?" I asked. Harry and the Lupins had danced around talking about the man as much as they could. Understandable given they were obviously grieving. It did make me curious though.

"A joker through and through. Kind of mean to people he didn't like… sad, depressed even. I don't know, I barely got the chance to know him. I wish I could have known him better."

"…You seem to care about him a lot for someone you didn't know very well?" I asked carefully.

Harry barked a short dark laugh.

"I suppose. He was just… he was my chance to get away from the Dursleys. He was a connection to my parents. He actually hung around near the school living off rats just in case I needed help." Harry ran a hand through his hair and stared determinedly at the coffee table. "He cared about me."

There wasn't really anything I could say to that. Eating rats? If Dad had been a third that determined to help me after the locker… If nothing else I could respect the late Sirius Black for that.

"He sounds like a good man." I offered for lack of anything better to say.

Harry shook his head and looked over the meeting transcript again.

"…Taylor, what would you do? If you were in charge?"

I eyed Harry for a minute but let the change of topic slide.

"I'm not sure. I'm still getting up to speed on everything magic can do. That means there are elements to this I can't guess at. If we capture someone, how long until the Lich finds out? Can he track them back to wherever we hold them? Is it possible to get outside assistance from the international community or would that just be giving him more people sympathetic to his ideology? How did the bastard dodge death and how can we undo it?"

I shrugged.

"If we're just talking about dealing with his organization? There are two methods. Pick off his people one by one and try to inspire fear in his subordinates and anyone who might be considering joining up, while pumping whoever we catch for information. Or you could try and get a complete picture of all his minions and then get them all with a few simultaneous strikes. I don't think the order has the manpower to pull that off though. There's too few of them, and most of them don't seem like fighters."

Harry chewed at his lower lip.

"And stopping Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. If we can't figure out how to kill him we could get creative. Bind his limbs and leave him locked up somewhere. If you could pull a Gray Boy, we could trap him in a time loop or freeze him in time? We could maybe sever his spinal cord and leave him trapped in his own body. If transfiguration can hold indefinitely, you could turn him into a rock and then lock that in a vault somewhere. Put him through sensory deprivation for a year or three and he might just tell us how to kill him just to make it stop."

I shrugged again at Harry's open mouthed horror.

"My world isn't a nice place, Harry. There were plenty of fates worse than death, and I got to see a few of them up close before I got dumped here. They aren't exactly my first choice for anyone, but if we can't kill him…"

Harry shivered.

"Let's call that plan B. Or maybe F or G."

I hummed noncommittally. I wasn't really enthusiastic about those kinds of options either, but it had worked on the Butcher. I wouldn't just write it off if we might need it.

"So, we have a small mansion that's halfway livable. We aren't really allowed to leave except to go back to the Weasley's where I might just start feeding Molly flies. We've got almost two months until your school starts and the Order's intel is, so far, the next best thing to useless." I summarized.

"We do have the Black family library." Harry offered. "It's full of all kinds of books on dark magic. We've got my old school books if you want to keep reviewing those. I can probably get some owl order magazines from someone."

"Harry, I haven't had this much down time since I first put on my mask. Yeah, I want to know what I'm up against first, but nearly two months of doing nothing while they run around killing people…" I pushed my emotions into the swarm fighting to keep relatively calm. "Letting your enemy do whatever they want is a shit plan, Harry."

"We can't exactly tell the order how to do things, Taylor. They wouldn't listen to either of us."

I wanted to object to that. Someone in that group had to know they weren't doing anything meaningful. But adults hadn't listened to me until I put on the mask, brought them food and water and proved I'd fight the Nine for their sake. Getting them to listen here was going to mean reestablishing my rep while I was sandbagging for an edge.

"If I ever get home, I'm going to have words with crazy bitch, and Dinah. This was not what I signed up for when I turned myself in."

Harry gave me a funny look but I was in no mood to explain.

I'd get through this. One way or another. I just wish I knew how.

 

[Fencer]

AN: On today's episode of 'oh god my Vegas wife is terrifying'; Taylor and Harry talk about something incredibly awkward. Remember to thank our lovely beta Functionality for their hard work. I promised them more Star Wars and then my muse started cackling and ran off to obsess over awkward heart to hearts where Harry gets to be a moderating influence. Huh… Harry Potter, moderating influence… huh… Good job muse, I knew you'd figure out something useful for him to do sooner or later.

---

{}{}{}{} Taylor; two days after arriving at headquarters

For the main base of a resistance movement there was absolutely nothing to do here. Meeting aside, the only one who had stopped by was the scarred veteran Mad Eye Moody. Who had stayed only long enough to drop off some basic groceries, scan me with his magic perv eyeball, and then grunt his approval at the number of weapons I was carrying.

Swapping stories about cape fights for stories about magic school did pass the time and let Harry and I get a better feel for one another. Unfortunately, I was still leery about talking about my history now that I knew just how damn versatile magic was. Who's to say there wasn't someone listening in? And Harry was humble to a fault downplaying everything he did. So, while we were learning about each other it was… stilted.

Not that I expected us to just magically start getting along or anything. This was going to take time. I needed allies so I'd keep trying. Especially now. Hearing some of Harry's stories was giving me a whole host of new nightmares.

Hopefully getting new glasses would get rid of this headache I'd been nursing since we got here.

{}{}{}{} Taylor; four days after arriving at headquarters

Scowling I messaged my temples. I'd thought new glasses would have stopped the headaches I'd been getting, but apparently not. If they weren't being caused by mismatched prescriptions… Maybe there was something in the house?

Growling, I refocused on the task Harry and I had set ourselves. Dumping all the house's valuable trinkets into the expanded pouch I'd snagged from the would be silverware thief. Once we were done the plan was to drop the pouch in Harry's trunk or his bank vault to worry about later. It was tedious, and I'd found eleven objects that killed the bugs I used to test this crap already. Each blatantly cursed object now had its own spider silk bag to prevent accidents. If I had enough spiders, I'd have given everything that treatment just to be safe, but I was somewhat limited for the time being.

Honestly, I wasn't too bothered about someone making off with this stuff beyond the principle of the thing. I didn't exactly have the moral high ground on thievery. But Harry took it as an insult to his godfather, and I could understand that. So, I agreed to help bag it all. At least now we knew that my bugs could test for curses. Still wasn't touching anything barehanded just in case.

On the bright side, we were almost done. Better still, the black widows I'd brought with me from Vegas were done stitching Mrs. Black's portrait curtains together. I was still going to reinforce that stitching until there was more spider silk than curtain and they became entirely inseparable. That woman didn't deserve speaking privileges and if I couldn't get anything to damage her portrait, I was going to jail her and make the inside of the curtains a breeding ground for my spiders. See if that couldn't drive the harridan to release whatever enchantment kept her in place.

{}{}{}{} Taylor; five days post arrival at headquarters

"I don't get it. Transfiguration sounds beyond useful in a fight but none of these defense texts talk about using it in fights." I said, looking to Harry for clarification. "You could use them to make cover, or send animals after an enemy so why aren't they talked about?"

"Transfiguration takes focus." Harry shrugged. "It's not that you can't use it in a fight, but it takes a lot of focus which is a bit hard when you're trying to dodge deadly spells, and it can be much slower than casting a jinx or curse. So, if you're going to use transfiguration you need to be sure you'll have time to cast uninterrupted, or you need to be really fast about it. Most people don't have the skill to do major transfiguration quickly."

Huh. Well that mostly made sense.

"Ok but what about using it to create cover?" I asked. "Even if you couldn't manage mid fight couldn't you prep the field if you know you'll need to fight?"

Harry wiggled a hand in a so-so gesture.

"A lot of more advanced defense texts talk about cover and it's a bit of a mixed bag. Physical cover is great against a lot of curses, especially the unforgivables. But against someone competent it doesn't hold up long unless it's something magically imbued like the walls of Hogwarts. Regular stone for example can be taken apart pretty easily with blasting or piercing curses. And that's if they don't use the fact you're behind cover and not shooting at them as a chance to cast something more complicated." Harry grinned cheekily. "Like transfiguring animals to go around the cover and attack you, or maybe just try and get flames to go around the edges of whatever you're using as cover. You can use transfigurations, sure, but it's pretty situational, charms, jinxes, and curses are the bread and butter of dueling and magic combat."

Right. Not like normals with guns. More like heavy duty blasters. Damn wizards and their seemingly bottomless bag of tricks. Was I slipping or was this headache really making it that hard to think?

"So everyone has to fight mobile?"

"Yeah, keep moving, and if you can't dodge something, cast a shield. A good shield charm will stop most things besides an unforgivable. But you don't want to hunker down behind a shield for long because that makes you an obvious target and every blocked spell takes a bit out of you. Much better to just keep moving and dodge."

"Or intercept with my swarm. So long as I keep my distance from area effect spells." I'd been thinking about that ever since I realized most spells traveled as jets of relatively slow light. They were quick, but compared to gun fire and actual lasers? No, these I could actually dodge.

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"That'll work if you're fighting alone, Taylor. But if you bury the whole field in your swarm, it would make it hard for anyone else to attack the Death Eaters."

"True, I've got a few ideas for that, but it could take some practice to get things working properly." Granted until they figured out a full body defense against my swarm, I doubted I'd need help, but if and when they did… Well, I had to wonder what would happen if a wizard cast a blasting curse while a fly was sitting on the tip of their wand.

"You know for all you're talk about luck getting you through your fights, you really do seem to know what you're talking about." I said.

Harry flushed and scratched the back of his neck.

"Defense is my best subject. I've done a lot of extra reading on it, especially the last two years."

I hummed something positive but let it lie. He obviously didn't want to boast and I appreciated the humility. Though honestly, he could stand to take more pride in his skills.

{}{}{}{} Taylor; seven days post arrival at headquarters

The headache would not go away. Nothing seemed to cause it, or help with it. Worse, I was starting to suffer from body aches as well. Like I was constantly just a little bit sore. It left me in a foul mood and the order members' infrequent visits and the utter lack of usable intelligence just further stressed my fraying patience.

Harry had actually thrown himself into things by studying defense texts, and practicing wand motions. He was even joining me in my improvised exercise regimen which was mostly going up and down the stairs, pushups, and sit ups.

Despite his attempts to distract himself it was still obvious he was miserable here. Not helped by Molly refusing to let his friends visit. Which I suspected had more to do with my presence than anything else, but could just as easily be about the number of cursed nick knacks or the weekly order meetings.

The thought of Harry being depressed here sent a fresh spike of pain through my head. The penny dropped, and I finally clued in to exactly what was going on. As soon as I resigned myself to talking it over with Harry the headache faded to a fraction of what I'd been dealing with confirming my theory. I took a minute to curse, and a few more to go through our very short list of options, before getting up to talk with Harry.

This was going to be unbelievably awkward.

{}{}{}{} Harry

I looked up from my latest defense text as Taylor stepped into the room with a knock at the open door. One look at her face and I marked my page before closing the book.

"Taylor?"

"We need to talk. And this is going to be stupidly awkward and uncomfortable." She said frankly with a grimace.

"How uncomfortable?" I asked.

"Well, we have a few possibilities on the table, but even if we decide not to go that route…" She hesitated, sighed, then looked me dead in the eyes. "It's probably time we talked about consummating the stupid wedding."

I thought about that for a minute trying very hard not to flush or sputter or even just start rambling. Yes, it was a conversation we would need to have sooner or later. Why Taylor wanted to talk about it now, I had no idea, but even if her priorities were a little strange at times, she always seemed to have a good reason for the things she did. That meant there was probably a good reason for wanting to talk about this now. Still though.

"Do you think we could find a bottle of fire whisky around here before we start talking about that. I think I might need it." I asked.

Taylor snorted then arched one eyebrow as she favored me with a small smirk.

"You sure that's how you want to handle this? Alcohol is what got us into this mess in the first place. Well, alcohol and whatever I got drugged with."

I laughed, one short sharp bark of resigned mirth.

"Well, Nymphadora's not around this time to drag us into trouble. Honestly, I don't think Gryffindor courage is going to be enough to get me through a conversation about our sex life as a Vegas wedding couple."

Taylor hummed thoughtfully.

"Honestly? I'm a little tempted to agree, but I'm really not willing to make it a repeat of last time. Never mind how badly things went while we were drunk, the hangover was…" She shook her head. And I nodded agreement. "Also, I really don't want to risk being that impaired ever again, it's just not responsible when I've got a swarm of insects under my control."

That was several very good points right there.

"Ok, so what about just a few drinks each, and we bar the door so Nymphadora or the rest of the order can't barge in and yell at us for drinking, or derail the conversation neither of us wants to have." I offered.

Taylor let slip a tight laugh.

"I think you're being a bad influence on me and trying to avoid the subject with alcohol."

"How could I possibly be a bad influence on a former supervillain?" I asked with a huff.

"Well I certainly never drank before I met you." She sighed. "But fine. I know where the wine racks are in the basement. I'll grab a bottle and meet you…" She trailed off and shot me a questioning look.

"My room." I offered. "There's a couple chairs, and it used to be Sirius's; he installed a couple deadbolts at some point to keep his family out." Though I should see about temporarily taking down his posters. This conversation was going to be awkward enough without pin ups of scantily clad women.

Taylor nodded and headed for the door and I got moving. She wasn't going to dally, so if I wanted to take those posters down, I'd best hurry.

{}{}{}{} Harry

It was amazing how little you could say while trying to act old and appreciate wine. It was also amazing how quickly you could drink a glass of something you didn't really enjoy when it was the only thing you could do to put off talking about something awkward. At least now I understood what people meant when they said a wine is dry.

With a sigh I drained the last of my first glass and picked up the bottle to pour a second.

"So… why do we need to have this conversation now?"

Taylor eyed her half empty glass, drained it, and held it out for me to refill. Which I did, eyed what was left of the bottle and saved myself time by dividing the last glass worth between us now. Taylor nodded a bit absently and took another sip before she started to talk.

"I figured out what was causing my headaches. You're miserable here, I know it, and I haven't tried to fix that problem. More than that we're here because of me so it's at least partly my fault. The stupid vows are punishing me for causing you emotional distress." She took another sip from her glass. "As soon as I decided to talk to you about it, the headache faded."

Well, that at least made sense. Though wow that was a strict interpretation. That could trip either of us up pretty easily if that was all it took. Not that a headache was all that severe but still.

"Ok, so I think I get that, but how did you get from being here is bad for both of us," even if it was indirectly for her, "to we should talk about… doing what we need to do to get rid of our tether?" I asked, taking a sip of my own drink.

Taylor scowled at a random spot on the wall.

"If we go back to the Weasley's, and that's if Molly will let me come back with you, how long until the fact that I'm uncomfortable there starts causing you headaches?"

That… was an excellent point.

"We could try living somewhere else?" I offered. Though realistically…

Taylor shook her head.

"I don't know what kind of defenses they set up at the Weasley's, but I doubt they're as good as the defenses here, and the fact they haven't got everyone under that sort of defense already means for some reason they can't…" She trailed off and tilted her head in thought. "Or they could be idiots and haven't even considered setting up more safe houses." Taylor finished with a sort of resigned aggravation. Like she was now convinced that was exactly what was going on and wouldn't believe otherwise without proof.

I wanted to defend the Order's competence, really, I did, but that would be getting further off topic. And while I wasn't ready to condemn their every choice like Taylor, I was starting to doubt they had any kind of plan beyond gathering information and trying to convince people not to join with Voldemort. If we could set up even a half dozen bolt holes under the fidelius charm…

"So you think, what, we… do it, and then you stay here while I go back to the Weasley's?" I asked.

"… It's an option." Taylor grumbled before looking me in the eye. "Look, no offense, but I still barely know you and I'm not exactly thrilled about it, but it's an option. Sooner or later, we need to lose the tether. You've been kidnapped by portkey before. I'm not in a hurry to find out what happens to us if someone does that again while we're still tied together. And even if we could have it worse sooner or later this is going to start to chafe. I'm used to being able to go all over a small city and now I'm supposed to limit myself to a house? I'm already starting to hate that."

All of that made sense. It was all reasonable. But there was something…. Taylor's voice sounded even more neutral than normal. Careful, controlled, exact. If there was one thing I'd picked up about her it was the more she clamped down on her reactions the stronger the feelings she was trying not to show.

"Ok, those are all good points." I admitted taking another sip. "And I get that neither of us are exactly in a rush for this, but why does it feel like you're trying to convince yourself even more than you're trying to convince me?"

Taylor went absolutely, rigidly, still. I very slowly took another sip of wine. This was important. It was also more than a bit like poking a dragon's sore tooth and hoping not to lose a hand.

Taylor almost mechanically sipped her wine.

"If you're not staying here with me. I'm not going to feel safe here." She said very slowly. "You seem like a nice guy, and even if you weren't, the marriage vows would have kept you honest, to a degree. I don't know the rest of the order, and there isn't anything keeping them honest. Do you know what the scariest things I've found reading your school books and bits of the library are?"

What would the girl controlling a biblical insect swarm find terrifying? I shook my head.

"Compulsion charms, memory charms, love potions, and the imperius curse. Human master abilities available to anyone and everyone with the patience to learn them. The fact you have any sort of society instead of outright anarchy is a damn miracle as far as I'm concerned."

Now I could hear the bugs, if a bit faintly, from farther in the house. She must be actively keeping them away from us.

"Most of the order doesn't think much of me." She continued. "Moody, the Lupin's, and Dumbledore are willing to believe I'm dangerous in a fight, but that's it. And if anyone decides it would be for the best that I stay out of their war." Taylor shrugged stiffly. "I've got one real ally on this planet and they're not it." She said looking me straight in the eye. "Staying here might mean your enemies can't find me, but it doesn't necessarily mean I'm safe."

"Taylor, the Order's not like that-"

"You don't know that." She cut me off sharply. "Harry, if you said Ron and Hermione aren't like that? I'd believe you, but you've barely met most of these people. I've barely met them, and if I can't trust them…"

"Taylor, you're being paranoid." I cut her off firmly. "Look, you want to claim the Order is incompetent? Ok, I'll admit they haven't done much to prove you wrong, and given how many times my friends and I saved the school, or solved some mystery every year on our own… So fine, maybe they're incompetent, but I haven't seen any proof that they would mess with your mind out of some idiotic attempt to help, or to get you out of the way."

"… You told me that Dumbledore had a man who hates you regularly invade your mind. A man who is a marked Death Eater."

Yes… yes, I did tell her that. Though not in those words. I found myself sipping more of my wine to buy time before answering.

"I did learn to repel mental attacks." I said.

"The fact that it worked doesn't make it any less of a violation though, does it." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. I couldn't deny it either. "One of them violated your mind and privacy on orders from Dumbledore. No real explanation. No real instruction, no trying to find a teacher that you would be more comfortable with."

I stayed silent sipping my glass as Taylor's eyes bored into me.

"I trust you, in part because you seem like a genuinely nice guy, and in part because you can't hurt me without hurting yourself. I do not trust the Order. If they did something to me and you didn't notice, which you might not, given we still barely know each other, they could change me, and there would be no repercussions."

And that was the end of it. She had a point. I didn't believe for an instant that Dumbledore would do anything to Taylor, but I couldn't prove that, and Taylor had an example I'd given her to back up her opinion.

"Ok, so you don't trust the Order, what do you want to do about it? Because I'm going to have to draw the line at fighting them, I've got enough enemies without making more out of allies."

Taylor grinned faintly.

"Think the night bus would stop for me if I held out one of the old wands we found?"

I frowned and tried to think that through.

"You do realize that would leave you exposed around a bunch of random magicals? Where do you even want to go?"

Taylor scoffed.

"A few flies and gnats and I could monitor everyone on a bus easily."

"Then why not just do the same with the Order?"

"I already do that." She rolled her eyes. "But I'd like to get some sleep without feeling a bit paranoid that someone could get to me while I'm out."

"And you think you'll feel safer sleeping in some warehouse or hotel room? For nearly two months, with no one watching your back?"

Tellingly she didn't say anything.

"Seriously, where do you even want to go, and for that matter why?" I asked.

"… I want to look at those giant magic spiders. If their webs are magic, or better, magic resistant I want to use them to make my next costume. With the addresses for Diagon Alley and the ministry I should be able to eavesdrop, though I don't know if I'd hear anything useful. If I could pry a damn address out of the Order, I could stake out an actual Death Eater. Something, anything, has to be more productive than sitting around here doing nothing. They might not care if I get myself killed but you…"

"They're never going to let me out of sight. And they aren't wrong, I'd be a target, so would you." Seriously, why did she want to run around as a target? "Look I'm not used to being able to just roam around a city like you are, but I get being sick of being locked away somewhere. I get that. But just wandering around the city? Where would you sleep? Where would you get food?"

Taylor looked away.

"We've gotten off topic." She said from behind her wine glass.

"Yeah, we have, but this is important. Don't try to change the subject now. Taylor, I get it. At least a bit. So take it from someone who's made a habit of doing something crazy when I feel like my back is to the wall. Your plan is at least a little bit crazy. I don't doubt you could survive on the streets of London for a month and a half. I'm less certain about the Forbidden Forest, but that's mostly because I'm not sure the acromantula won't eat you when you fall asleep."

Honestly, she could probably just glare the forest into submission.

"But the fact you could do it doesn't mean you should. It wouldn't be even remotely safe, or comfortable. And even if you wandered all of London there's no guarantee you'd find any useful information about the Death Eaters. They're probably scattered all across the countryside in warded manor homes. Not discussing evil plans in the ministry offices or some shop."

Taylor scowled at a corner of the room and tipped a fair amount of wine into her mouth.

"How about a compromise." I offered. "Or, heck not even a compromise, just something a bit more… moderate."

"... Like what?"

"We take a day trip to Hogwarts and test your control against magic murder spiders. If it works you grab a few of the smaller ones for costume weaving. And if your control holds while you're asleep you have some very nasty bodyguards no one can get past without waking you. You'll be able to work on your new costume here, safe, and comfortable."

Taylor relaxed a bit as I explained the idea I was coming up with on the spot.

"I'll spend some afternoons at the Weasleys so I'm not always stuck here, that should get the bond off your back, but I'll sleep here and we can talk in the mornings and evenings. Keep getting to know each other and still give each other space?" I realized I was waving my wine glass around enough to make the liquid slosh, so I quickly put it down. "You can keep spying on the Order for anything worth knowing, and I'll convince Mrs. Weasley to let Ron and Hermione come over sometimes. Then we can all start planning. Between you, Hermione and the Black library we might be able to figure out how Voldemort survived without asking Dumbledore, and if we can't I'd bet my broom there's something in there we could use for your fates worse than death plan."

Taylor grinned. It was a small vicious thing, it fit her face entirely too well.

"That's not a bad plan at all." She held her glass of wine out and after a moment I picked up on my cue and clinked my own against hers, then we drained the glasses. Taylor sighed and set her glass aside.

"We still need to talk about the elephant in the room." She said.

I could vaguely make out the noise of distant insects grow louder and more frantic. That I could identify frantic insects over calm by pitch was not a life skill I'd ever wanted, but apparently it only took a couple of weeks living with a highly stressed insect controller to learn.

"Must we?"

"Sooner or later, yeah. And we finished the wine. Might as well get it over with."

"We could put it off. Open another bottle in a few days?" I leaned back in my chair so I could stare at the ceiling.

"I'm not making alcohol a regular habit, Harry. It might help get past a bit of the embarrassment, but my city was full of people who tried escaping with drugs or drinking." She scoffed. "Fat lot of good that did anyone. Wasted their money, fed the gangs, certainly didn't fix their problems."

"Maybe we can weaponize that? A curse to make the Death Eaters and Voldemort perpetually drunk or high. Doubt they'd be much of a threat if they can't aim straight."

Taylor smirked.

"That's a thought. Though I don't think I'll be any help with that so you'll need to figure it out on your own. But you're still dodging the conversation. I can promise to keep the bugs out of the bedroom, but if you tell me to 'lie back and think of England' I'm going to hurt you."

That startled a laugh out of me.

"Not arguing I should, but doesn't it seem like the kind of situation that was meant for? Arranged marriages, yeah?"

"You're the Brit," she scoffed, "maybe it should be my line."

I opened my mouth to say something, hopefully something witty, then closed it and thought it over.

"Maybe it should be."

"… What?" She asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

"This, all of it, but especially this bit, feels at least a bit wrong. It's not my fault, or yours, but it still feels…" I waved a hand vaguely trying to explain. I never wanted to be the sort of bastard who forced themself on a girl, and yet this whole situation, even with Taylor being the one to bring it up… it made me feel like I was walking along the edge of that line.

"Being in control, setting the pace. Would that make this, I don't know, easier, for you?"

For a minute Taylor said nothing, but the background hum of her swarm… it didn't stop, but it eased down into something calmer.

{}{}{}{} Taylor

Something ugly and tight that had taken up residence in my gut during our conversation seemed to unwind a bit. The offer didn't change what we needed to do. It didn't stop a part of me from wanting to feed Nymphadora to my swarm.

But it did make this easier. In a way. Less offensive, less intimidating.

"Yes, that would help." I admitted. "I've got a potion, The Lupins gave it to me. Something to make sure we don't end up teen parents."

Harry's face went through a complicated array of emotions quickly before he shook himself and nodded.

"We don't need to do this tonight, just… sooner or later." I offered.

Honestly, with a less drastic plan in place, and an assurance of control… I was perfectly happy to delay a while if Harry wanted to.

Harry groaned. Sounding thoroughly done with everything.

"I want to delay." He said slowly. "But that's going back to how awkward this all is. If I put it off now, I'm going to want to keep putting it off." He rubbed at his face with both hands, but not before I saw his cheeks turn crimson. "I, tonight, just… I feel like I ought to shower, and brush my teeth, I just…"

I looked away and dumped as much of my reaction into the swarm as I could. I guess we were really doing this then. I'd brought it up. I knew this was a possibility. Heck it was the result I was aiming for even if just so I could get away and do something I'd consider important. And here we were. This wouldn't be like with Brian. For a lot of reasons. And thinking about Brian right now would only make things more complicated. So, ignore that thought. I'd done this to myself, and honestly this whole mess had gone better than expected. So, time to just own it and get it over with.

"How about we get cleaned up, and come back in an hour or so?" I offered.

"Yeah, alright." Harry said, sounding shaky.

I offered Harry a strained smile and headed for the door.

My bugs just made out Harry muttering that he could not believe this was happening and he should probably think up more ways to get back at Tonks for this awkward insanity.

Which was a very welcome distraction to think on for the next hour instead of… anyway. How else could I further tank that woman's reputation after convincing all her coworkers she liked to work out her Daddy issues in the bedroom?

… Nope, not distracting enough. Damn it, this was beyond awkward, and I was going to make her suffer. Nymphadora, Crazy Bitch, and Dinah just for kicking this insanity off. I will get even, and they will all regret the parts they played in this. First though? I needed to shower, and brush my teeth, and my hair, and damn it all to hell I was thinking about it again!

 

[Fencer]

AN: Not 100% on this one. It's the aftermath of a major emotional incident, with no canon equivalent to use as a guideline on either end so I'm winging it and leaning into the one real lesson I know from personal experience about dating. Be brutally honest with your partner even if it turns into disjointed word vomit because your feelings are conflicted, contradictory or something your partner won't want to hear. Is that something Taylor or Harry as they are written canonically would do? HAHAHAHAHA, no. Am I writing them being brutally honest anyway? Yup. Call it writer bias, call it ooc, I'm doing it anyway. Apparently, this is a thing for me and I'm not interested in fighting myself on it.

I'm more than a little leery about how the conversation developed. I let my muse off the leash and Harry just tore out of left field and blindsided me. Which… ok normal-ish for me when writing character interactions. What it says about our fade to black... Possible result? Sure. Less awful than the worst case? Totally. Am I liable to set someone off by writing this the way I have? Oh God help me. Why did I pick up this hobby again?

Guys, please heap praise and adulation on my beta reader Functionality. I promised him more Star Wars, promised myself more too for that matter, and my muse has been a little shit tearing off after awkward conversations between two broken teenagers. But I do have Disney+ and have started rewatching the clone wars show for inspiration. Also… fuck it lets lay it out. My union is voting on our new contract at the end of the week. I am… not thrilled with the proposed pay raises but they aren't bad, especially if I pass my next weld test whenever that happens. But that's just me. If we go on strike, you all may be getting a lot more updates from me than you're used to.

---

Two days. Two days since we'd broken our mutual tether. Four days since a member of the order had stopped by. Two days since Harry had been willing to exchange more than a few words with me before making an excuse to flee the room. Sitting at the kitchen table munching on toast and repeatedly losing staring matches against Hedwig… this couldn't go on. If this was the compromise Harry had planned, I'd almost be better out on the streets. Only the lack of real targets and the existence of Dementors allowed Headquarters to remain the better option.

Yes, Harry had several good points but if he thought I couldn't rob some London street gang who had no Parahumans or guns? Ha, if I wasn't concerned about soul sucking demons I could probably find and raid every drug lab in the city before school started again. Money would not be a problem and money solved every other problem.

But there are demons out there. And even if there weren't? If I wanted a role in this fight I needed… Well, I needed a lot of things. And while the Order was so far proving less than productive, I wasn't going to have much luck starting my own faction. Not with the mentality most magicals seemed to hold. For that I needed Harry.

I'd agreed to join this fight. I'd decided the Lich needed a permanent death. I could bail. Leave them all to their war. If the Order really thought their current tactics could lead them to victory then frankly, I was inclined to let natural selection have its way. But it wouldn't stop there. Genocide never stopped with the Darwin Awards, it came for everyone. And being unable to work with a small group of idiots wasn't enough of a reason to stand aside. There wasn't a good enough reason. I just needed to work with Harry and do the best I could to muster a real resistance.

But working with Harry wasn't like running my territory or being a cape. This… what was it Mom had said. 'Honesty and communication are the key to a healthy and happy relationship.' It rubbed against the grain at this point to be that open with someone other than the Undersiders, and even with them… well I hadn't exactly made a habit of baring my soul.

Sure, we could go our separate ways eventually… but for now I needed Harry, in ways he really didn't need me. I brought a lot to this fight and that had value, but from my end… The roof over my head, the food on my plate, the important knowledge of this new world. I needed to depend on him for all of it, right now. At least until the soul sucking demons were off the board. But even then, I'd still be reliant on him for his connections and knowledge about this world.

Souls, fuck I'd been trying not to think about that. If hell was real… I blew out a breath. I'd done a lot of really shitty things, some for less than great reasons. The plan had been to go hero anyway and I'd already joined up with a fight against the extermination of "undesirables." So, maybe it was time to work on that whole self-reflection self-improvement thing. Easiest way to start was here and now, with my equally fucked up husband. So… how to start a conversation with someone who runs away when I enter the room?

Hedwig, apparently tired of winning our staring contests, hopped across the table to push her head against my hand. I offered the beautiful bird a tired smile and stroked some of the feathers on her chest.

"What do you think, Hedwig? How should I go about getting Harry to talk to me again?"

She cocked her head to the side for a moment before barking and pushing herself back to my fingers eager for more attention.

"I suppose I could leave him alone. Let him work it out at his own pace, but if I'm trying to be better, well it's not like there's anyone else here he can talk to about this mess. And I'm the one who brought it up." Hedwig's eyes slid half shut and I got the distinct impression she was enjoying my attention. "It's not like this isn't awkward for me too, but we had to deal with it eventually, and avoiding my problems has never solved anything for me. So how do I talk to someone who keeps running away without forcing him?"

If we were back home I might have tried texting him but, huh…

"Hedwig, how would you feel about making a lot of very short flights?"

Hedwig blinked at me, and seemed to come to attention before barking in what I hoped was an affirmative.

"Right then, come along you pretty bird, I need to get some paper and a pen. It's time to try and pull Harry out of his funk."

{}{}{}{} Harry

Hedwig's bark pulled my attention just in time to see her pull her wings in to make it through the door of the sitting room. She had one of Taylor's pens clenched in one foot and a sheet of paper in the other. She dropped both in my lap before settling on the back of my chair and butting her head against mine.

"Hey girl." I reached up absently to brush her feathers, "What's this then?"

So, since you don't seem to want to be in the same room as me right now… I thought we could talk like this instead if it would be easier. Hedwig actually seemed excited about the idea of flying back and forth. Not sure how long that'll last. I feel like I need to apologize. I probably shouldn't have brought that up so soon.

T.

Huh. Talking to… someone would be great actually because Merlin I wasn't sure what to think, never mind what I was feeling. I'd rather have this conversation with someone else. Though who I'd rather talk to… Sirius would be my first thought but that wasn't an option. Ron… Ron would listen but probably wouldn't have anything helpful to say on something this complicated. Hermione? Er no. She'd probably go off on a tear about how horrible this kind of wedding vow is. Which I really didn't need right now given I was currently trapped in one. I didn't need any help figuring out how and why this was a load of shite.

So, talking to the wife. Merlin that still sounds wrong.

Why do you think you need to apologize? I don't think there was ever going to be a good time to talk about it.

H.

I brought it up. I made the case for just getting it over with. You could have put it off but even so… I don't know. Peer pressure is a thing, and I'm the one who brought it up. And now you're avoiding me, which I get. So, I'm sorry.

T.

To be fair, if we're apologizing for peer pressure, I'm the one who keeps getting you to drink.

H.

True, still…

T.

No, I get it. I'm not…. I'm not mad, at you. I'm just. It's stupid

H.

I highly doubt it's stupid.

T.

It is.

H.

Tell me anyway.

T.

Why?

H.

So I can tell you it's not stupid.

T.

Ha, fine, I feel numb. I always wanted a family, a real family, not like the Dursleys, and now this. I was already half convinced I wouldn't live to see the end of this war. But if I did make it, I wanted a family. A wife, kids I could bury in hugs and stuff full of food. If I made it through, I wanted that. Now, well now.

H.

Shit. Well, it isn't stupid.

T.

Yeah?

H.

Yeah. Makes sense to me. I became a super villain for friendship after all. Stupid reason I know but… My Dad's still alive, but he mostly checked out after Mom died. My childhood friend betrayed me. She turned the whole school against me. The Undersiders were my first friends in almost two years. Being part of a team like that, where you have to trust everyone else to have your back. It's not the kind of family you're talking about, but I'd kill for them, take a bullet for them. It's something similar. From all your stories I'd say you have something like that with Ron and Hermione.

T.

I ran my fingers through Hedwig's feathers as she visibly preened. Evidently, she was really appreciating all the attention and work.

Taylor had talked about the Undersiders before. But she had always danced around how and why she'd ended up with villains. Something about a stupid plan to go undercover and then going native. The fact they won her over with friendship… honestly given how serious she is I probably wouldn't have guessed that.

Did you ever think about having a family of your own?

H.

… Harry I know I've said this before but my world is dying. Even before Dinah and her damned doomsday prophecy we all knew it. We couldn't even kid ourselves with the possibility of escaping to space because the feathered bitch sits in orbit and she would never have let us run.

I've thought about finding a guy and dating, maybe get married if I lived long enough and we clicked, but kids? Even before I got powers and my life expectancy nosedived, bringing a kid into a dying world always sounded horrible.

T.

I took a minute to try and imagine what she was describing. The closest I could get was imagining what Death Eaters would do to any hypothetical kid of mine if given half a chance. That was more than enough to see her point.

I hadn't ever thought of it like that. It always seemed so clear cut. Either I'd die or Voldemort would. The end, but that's not really all there is to it. A bunch of his inner circle got off last time, and there are all sorts of sympathizers and even more people who are too afraid to take action. Even if we kill him, it won't just all stop there will it?

H.

No. Being safe, for you and any others who don't fit in his world view? That means killing or jailing anyone who's willing to commit murder for this bullshit ideology. It means taking charge in the aftermath and forcing the government to not fall back on corruption and bad habits. It means finding ways to change the way people think. Even then you'll never get everyone. Though if you get enough and what's left aren't stupid, they'll keep their heads down. Though moving to another country might be easier.

T.

What makes you say we'd never get them all? The Death Eaters are marked.

H.

And the sympathizers? The old bastards quietly approving of it all while they ok discriminatory legislation from their seat in the government? The families of the people we're going to end up fighting against who were raised on this bullshit ideology that are going to want revenge for their dead friends and family? The people who are stupid and angry and entitled and all too happy to blame everything wrong with their lives on someone else for the terrible crime of being different?

This blood purity garbage is an idea. You can't kill an idea. It's why there are neo-Nazis in America even though we fought against that bullshit in WWII. Best you can do is push for change and understanding until the idiots are in the vast minority and forced to keep their damn opinions to themselves.

T.

That… would be so much harder than just putting Voldemort six feet under, which was already a challenge and a half.

How would we even do that?

H.

You're asking me? Harry I was a warlord. I ran a few blocks of a city by spying on everyone so that no one could steal from or assault one another. I kept order by biting offenders with bullet ants. The only reason anyone respected me is the fact that I brought in food and water and willingly stepped between them and hostile capes. We only controlled the city because there were enough of us to hold the majority and we put allies in charge of the rest.

I can't do what I did back home with a population this spread out. And nothing about how I managed things in my territory was anyone's definition of legal. Hell, one of the charges they were going to try and make stick was treason. Grabbing control after the fact is easy, you just need to be the group that is too powerful for anyone to challenge and be competent enough that the people won't immediately riot.

First problem with that is you're not an adult and everyone has magic so you don't get a shortcut to being taken seriously. Second is that fixing things means change; and people, especially the kinds of assholes we're fighting, won't like that and will get in the way. Then you have to be legitimate in the eyes of the international community. You'd need people who you trust to oversee everything you can't.

I'm not going to say it's impossible. Magical vows and contracts could make a lot of things possible, but I've barely got my head around what magic can do generally speaking. I wouldn't know where to even start with the culture and politics I would need to know to try something on that scale. If you want to plan a government reform, you'd be better off talking to Dumbledore.

T.

Right, not fair to assume Taylor would have the answers to every problem even if she was a former warlord. It was a very different situation. Honestly, trying to figure out how to force magical Britain to be better could wait. It was an interesting distraction but that's all it was right now. A distraction. I was chasing every damn distraction I could find.

Because that night had been awkward and embarrassing, and… I wasn't going to be able to look her in the eye until I talked this through.

Would you hate me if I said I enjoyed it? Not… It was like I managed to shut my brain off and pretend the situation was different, at the end.

Because I had. In spite of everything wrong with that night and this whole mess. After we had committed to it, and right at the end when there wasn't enough space left in my head to feel anything else… I'd been able to forget, briefly. Then reality flooded back in and I wanted to kick myself.

I wish it hadn't been so bloody messed up, but you were… it was hard not to be a little caught up in your confidence, and then I just stopped thinking.

She had stepped into the room, taken a deep breath and taken charge. Walked me through what she was going to do to make sure I hadn't changed my mind, told me I could say stop at any time and she would. Then she acted. She didn't even mind my scars. Merlin help me, for a minute I could imagine a world where this wasn't all forced. I wanted that kind of connection, I wanted it to be real. I wouldn't have picked Taylor on my own, and this was such a bloody mess, but, but, I wanted that to be real with someone.

It was the idea of something I never thought I would get. Not while Voldemort was still alive. And now I couldn't look at her without remembering. And worst of all it was a Merlin be damned fantasy I managed to lose myself in for less than a minute.

Whenever you walk into the room my mind jumps back and I remember enjoying it, and hating that we had to do this, and hating myself for enjoying it at all, and hating all of this because if we both live through everything…

If we both lived, we were stuck with each other. And when we first met? I'd sort of assumed if we got that far we'd have to try and make it work or go our separate ways. But Taylor? She wanted to return to a dying world, a world she insisted was so much more dangerous. She rejected the idea of having kids because it wouldn't be fair to them. Talked about maybe getting married if she lived long enough.

I was starting to think she wasn't even considering what she would do when the fight was over. I'm not sure if she could even imagine a world where there was no more reason to fight.

You were so ready to jump into my fight, and I know you want to get back home for what you insist is an even more dangerous fight. Are you, you're not suicidal, right? Please say no, I really don't think I could deal with being a reason someone wants to die.

H.

{}{}{}{} Taylor

I stroked Hedwig absently as I reread Harry's latest note. There was a lot to unpack there.

I suppose I should be flattered that you consider me good enough to make you forget our situation for a minute or two.

It's not like I was very experienced. I was a little jealous he'd managed to disassociate like that. I'd tried distancing myself from what I was doing by paying attention to my swarm… it sort of worked.

I can't say I enjoyed it, Harry. Honestly, I tried to just focus on my swarm. It made it a bit easier for me. I can't exactly be mad at you for feeling good. That was sort of the goal. Or at least necessary for what we were trying to do.

I was more than a little tempted to say something about boys thinking with the wrong head. But he was talking and being honest and sabotaging whatever tenuous trust we were building for a sarcastic comment would not be worth it. I lost myself in the swarm and drummed my fingers against the table.

So no, I don't hate you. I am a little stunned you managed to stop thinking about the situation. Though I can certainly understand why you've been keeping your distance. I'm not going to blame you for your emotions being a mess in all this. But I hope you're not expecting a repeat performance. We're not exactly a traditional couple and I can't say I'm in a rush for a second round.

As for me being suicidal? No. I'm not suicidal, Harry. I've pushed through far worse than being married to a broody guy with strong morals. If my trigger didn't break me this won't. Before I got powers, I knew the odds were against living a long and happy life. Once I got powers? Once I decided I couldn't stand sitting on the sidelines anymore? I'd honestly have to stop and count how many times I've nearly died. But I can't back down. I can't just walk away.

T.

I hesitated, reading my response repeatedly trying to decide if there was more that I wanted or needed to say. Finally, I passed it to Hedwig. It would have to be good enough. Then it was back to sitting there waiting for a response trying not to overthink everything.

Merlin no, I'm not expecting a repeat. That's not, I'm sorry I feel like a mess right now, and I know I'm not being clear. I'm not, this is… bloody hell how do I explain this… I hate this and I want us both to make it through this and be happy, or at least not miserable, but happy would be better.

I just have no idea how we can manage that. I barely have any idea what a happy life after all this would look like for me. I have no idea what that would look like for you. I'm glad you're not suicidal. I was honestly a little concerned with how eager you seem to be about jumping into fights.

What do you mean by trigger?

H.

Ah, shit I had mentioned that hadn't I. Well, did I want to keep falling down the rabbit hole of trying for an impossible happy ever after, or did I want to talk about the second worst day of my life as a change of topic?

Trigger events are how we get powers. I wasn't born with them. We don't generally talk about them. There is one common factor with all trigger events. They are traumatic. Most capes call them the worst day of their life. Physical or mental abuse, especially over an extended period, a sudden violent confrontation, anything that could be a breaking point. Some people with the potential go through something awful, and then we get some twisted consolation prize that doesn't really help us fix anything.

I don't want to talk about mine.

T.

Ah. Ok. Changing the subject. What would a happy life look like, for you?

H.

Honestly Harry, I don't know anymore. My friends, alive and safe. My world, not teetering on the brink of collapse. Bullies and bigots not able to terrorize people because they just happen to have personal power. Being safe and strong. But beyond that? …I don't know what I want.

… I know it was my idea, but could we end this here… I, well if I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, you've given me something to think about.

T.

Yeah. You've given me a lot to think about too. Thanks, Taylor. This was a good idea.

I'll see you later. I think we've got all the ingredients I'll need to make us one of my favorites.

H.

Looking forward to it.

T.

Hedwig took off one last time but despite how impressive it was to watch her fly my mind was elsewhere.

What would a happy life look like for me? What did I want? What I'd told Harry was true. But those weren't things that would make me happy, just things I would need to happen before I'd let myself consider hanging up the cape. What kind of life would I be happy living if I was ever willing to hang up my mask?

 

[Fencer]

AN: I'm only going to say this once. Fuck canon. I'm going to change some shit, I'm going to give my justification in story and that's that. Honestly Rowling if you are going to unleash soul sucking demons at the start of a book you should have at least tried to use them! So, fuck that, fuck them, I'm dealing with this shit.

Remember to thank Functionality for betaing everyone! Who so helpfully started poking me. While I was making the corrections he pointed out, on my phone, during lunch break, because I love you all. Enjoy!

I woke up feeling good. Well rested, dare I even think it, positive. Not happy, there was still too much wrong for that, but at least it felt like I wasn't constantly walking uphill. When Harry joined me for breakfast, he was almost cheery. And that was when I started to think something was strange.

I hadn't felt this good since I got here. Harry hadn't seemed this positive since he had the chance to go flying. Not to say we didn't have cause for our moods, but for us to suddenly feel more positive, at the same time, is a bit of a red flag. Still, this was a mild enough effect…. Cheering charms? I'd read about those, but I was unclear on the specifics, and to sneak past all my silk lines in the black of night without breaking any… unlikely. And the wizards' teleportation made too much noise to go unnoticed. Something in the food? Plausible, but I'd had gossamer strands crisscrossing the kitchen as well. None had been broken while we slept. I'd had to give orders for them to be cut down the same as every other morning.

So, either someone could cast some sort of mild cheering charm over the whole building or… or what? Damn this world. There is so much I just don't know and haven't had the time to learn.

Finishing the last of my oatmeal I went to the sink and washed out my bowl then glanced up sharply as the front door slammed open.

One hand dipped into a pocket for a can of pepper spray Harry also tensed his wand finding its way into his hand. I got a doxy close enough to see who it was and relaxed, mostly.

"Looks like the Lupins." I said.

Harry relaxed fully, grumbling about manners, and letting people know they'd be getting visitors. Of course, he also immediately put water on for tea.

Nymphadora burst into the room, her hair a riotous neon pink, and a blinding smile on her face.

"Taylor! I know you hate me, but I just have to say I love what you've done with the portrait of Sirius's Mum. Absolutely brilliant, that!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but she swept right past me and scooped Harry up into a hug and spun him around in a circle. About that point I wondered if magic could make good vibes bombs and she'd been closer to the epicenter than Harry and I. Remus entered at a more sedate pace, but he too was grinning from ear to ear.

"Dare I even ask?" I asked, gesturing at his wife.

"Good news is a bit hard to come by these days and more than worth celebrating." Remus answered as Harry pushed himself out of Nymphadora's arms loudly demanding to know if she had gone utterly insane. She cackled in response.

"Pregnancy hormones?" I asked. Both adults choked on spit. "War's not a great time to be having a kid. Especially not for a combatant." I raised my best judgmental eyebrow at both of them causing them to sputter more. Harry by contrast did his best not to laugh at their discomfort by focusing his attention on getting teacups for everyone.

"That's not it at all!" Remus insisted.

"Though I should probably pick up some more potions just to be safe." Nymphadora admitted far too candidly for my taste.

"What exactly made you two come running here first thing in the morning?" I asked. Getting in a catty remark against Nymphadora was not worth learning more about her sex life, best to get things back on point.

"Albus pulled off a bloody miracle." Remus answered with a grin. "It must have taken every favor he was owed by anyone outside the country and then some begging on top, but he managed to convince the ICW that a breeding population of dementor's feeding as they please constituted a serious threat to the statute of secrecy, and to the world in general."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"No bloody way. Do you meant to tell me-" Harry was cut off as Nymphadora whooped and spun him around in another hug.

"It took the largest multinational task force I've ever heard off, but they did it!" Nymphadora shouted. "They rounded them all up, and last I heard the plan is to sink them into the bottom of an ocean trench in a box just big enough to fit them!" She cackled like a mad woman.

Remus nodded with a grin.

"A few may have escaped, but if they did? We can handle a few loners. I doubt we'll get any more help from the international community after this." The werewolf admitted. "But even still it's a weapon the enemy has been denied, and that's a victory all on its own."

That explained everyone's good mood then. No one was making us happy; we just aren't fighting to hold steady against misery anymore.

"It will certainly do wonders for morale." I admitted with a small smile of my own.

The direct results had already been noticeable, but removing the soul sucking monsters immune to physical harm from the board? That made me feel much better about getting into this mess. Now, if I could just get my hands on two or three dozen juvenile magic spiders for costume weaving, I might actually start to feel productive again. I wanted some new threads ready before I found targets in need of my personal touch, and the dragon hide vests Harry ordered were finally in anyway, so I really did want to get started.

"Will there be an Order meeting?" Harry asked.

"Tonight." Remus confirmed.

"Good." Harry nodded. "Taylor and I need to talk to some people about arranging at least a few day trips, and we might need someone to sit on Dumbledore long enough that we can demand some straight answers about a few things as well."

And between the Lupin's surprised bewildered expressions and just how serious Harry looked right then… Well, I let myself smile a little. Being humble was all well and good, but if he wanted to be in this fight, he needed to be confident enough to say his piece. And make others listen.

"Harry?" Remus asked.

Harry glanced my way and I nodded back. He could handle this, and anything we might say would sound better coming from him than from me.

"Taylor had a theory about how Voldemort survived, and it fits. It actually explains some things that happened my second year, but if it's true… we can't just keep going like this. If it's true we need to start hunting things down as soon as possible and if it's not, well, we've got some ideas for how we could deal with him even if we can't kill him." A couple of those ideas were even Harry's.

"One less now." I spoke up. "It's a bit hard to feed him to a dementor if they're all gone." Not that I would complain, it was hardly our only plan, and being rid of the damn things was far and away better. "Give me an hour I'll see if I can't plan out a few that are more creative."

Harry barked a laugh, and I grinned a touch wider. Yes, being rid of the dementors really was for the best.

{}{}{}{} Harry, that night.

I dragged a chair right next to Taylor's against the kitchen wall opposite the door. We'd spent part of the afternoon debating just how much to say in front of the whole order. Which really meant we had a heated discussion about information security in a world with mind readers, truth potions, and Snape being a double agent neither of us fully trust. Taylor grudgingly admitted that much as she wanted to try imitating her friend Lisa, picking at the Order to try and find leverage might be a mistake. Especially when they just scored a major victory. No matter how reasonable her arguments, any criticism would ring hollow right now. Though she did reserve the right to go for Snape's throat if he decided to be an obstacle and Dumbledore let him.

Eventually she agreed to back me up and follow my lead, just asking that I not talk up her abilities too much. When I'd asked why she was willing to follow my lead she looked at me like she thought I was stupid.

"Harry, in between getting tortured by two different teachers last year you managed to train up a teenage resistance movement when you could only meet once or twice a week, at best. Then you put together a team for a rescue mission and got ambushed because you were fed bad information. Despite being outnumbered by more experienced killers you got your team out of that ambush, and none of them died. You might need more experience, and you do need to think things through more. But you know these people, and this world, and you have good instincts. They aren't going to listen to me until I prove myself. And if you've picked up even a bit of my skepticism about the Order, which I know you have, then I think you'll do alright. Just so long as you don't let them talk down to you like a kid. You're in this fight no matter how anyone feels about it. None of them are your parents or guardians, and you've already fought the Lich more times than all but Dumbledore. Make your case, hear what they have to say, but don't be afraid to stand your ground if you don't like their answer. And no matter what, don't let anyone dismiss you, because you've more than earned the right to be taken seriously."

She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Grass is green, the sky is blue, and I deserved a healthy dose of respect from a bunch of people with decades more experience than me. It was… disorienting.

Taylor always seemed in control, with at least the start of a plan. Falling into her rhythm was as easy as breathing, right until she said something overly paranoid or vicious and needed to be talked back down to earth. And she was willing to follow my lead here?

I didn't call her on it, but I was pretty sure a large part of that came back to the fact no one but the Lupins, Moody, and maybe Dumbledore would take her seriously. She couldn't make anyone listen, but even still, I knew she'd rather deal with everything herself. That she was willing to let me try and get through to the Order instead… It was trust. Maybe not a lot. She could always cut them out and move on her own if this failed after all. But she was still willing to support me for it and that meant something.

Ron and Hermione would tell me to have faith in Dumbledore. Taylor thought he was halfway senile. Dumbledore promised lessons now that I could defend my mind but hadn't made time to explain anything. He admitted to knowing leaving me with the Dursley's wouldn't be good for me. If professor McGonagall had listened to us about the Stone in first year? If they had evacuated the school in second year? If Snape hadn't barged in and tried to get Sirius killed in third? If anyone at all had noticed Moody wasn't himself or offered me real advice for the tournament? If Dumbledore had just told me what it was Voldemort was after in the Department of Mysteries and explained the connection?

I'd messed up last year charging in. But I wasn't the only one to have really, really messed up over the years. Taylor was right about that, and as she'd bluntly put it; At least you're willing to do something.

So, I settled into the chair next to hers, took a deep breath, and got ready for a fight.

The room filled up slowly, every new arrival threw Taylor and I a baffled glance. Before finding a seat. Apparently unsure if we were actually meant to be here. The Lupins kept glancing our way wondering just how messy this might become. Mrs. Weasley almost stormed over but Mr. Weasley must have seen something in Taylor or I because he held her back and led her to a pair of seats away from us.

Dumbledore and Snape were the last two to enter and they came together. Snape sneered and the headmaster's eyebrow's rose in surprise.

"Harry, Taylor, while it's a pleasure to see you again, we are about to begin the meeting." Dumbledore said placidly.

"Yes, sir. That's what we're here for." I answered.

"The headmaster was telling you to leave, Potters." Snape cut in snidely.

"Yeah, I picked up on that." I shrugged. "But since you seem to have missed it, that was me saying 'no, we're staying.'"

That got more than a few people muttering. Snape opened his mouth for some cutting remark, but Dumbledore spoke up before he could.

"Harry my boy, I understand that this is all frustrating, but we do have a minimum age requirement for joining the order."

"All due respect, Headmaster, no one outside this room is going to care if I'm seventeen, seven, or seventy. They're just going to try and kill me, or ask me why I'm not out there stopping Voldemort, and I've got multiple near death experiences to back that up. You're going to need a better argument."

Taylor spoke up before anyone else could.

"And I didn't go to the trouble of getting my hands on so many weapons so I could stand back while you all played secret agent. Harry filled me in on the stakes and the risks before we left Vegas. I came here to help stop an ethnic cleansing, not to play blushing bride."

Snape gave Taylor his best unimpressed look.

"Forgive me," Snape said, voice thick with sarcasm, "but a slip of a girl incapable of magic will be about as useful as one of our first years."

Taylor looked at me and gestured at Snape with both hands. Her face asking for permission. And I knew her well enough now to know that was nothing but theater for the Order. If she really wanted to chew him out she wouldn't even bother asking. But the Order wouldn't know that. And if the only thing she could control was what people thought they knew about her? She would very happily leave them all completely in the dark.

I only thought for a couple seconds before I noticed that no one was disagreeing with Snape. That was enough for me to make up my mind. These people were meant to be fighting against Voldemort, but here they were willing to dismiss me because of my age and Taylor because she couldn't work a wand? No, we didn't want to pick a fight with the Order, but they needed a wake up call.

"Fine, just don't kill him." I sighed and leaned back against the wall. No matter what, this promised to be entertaining.

Taylor snorted.

"Please, I'm not going to spend my night cleaning up blood stains just to prove a point." She smirked at me before turning back to Snape. A glance around the room showed a lot of people suddenly paying much closer attention.

"I find it very interesting that the supposedly reformed terrorist is so quick to dismiss me because I lack the ability to throw pretty lights out of a stick." Taylor said.

A second glance about the room showed a lot of offended faces, and Moody breaking out into a slow, sly grin as his magic eye bounced back and forth between Snape and Taylor.

"The fact that you are just as entitled to your life and safety as any wizard or witch does not change the reality that you will be unable to fight against the Dark Lord or his people." Snape snapped.

"Oh, so it's going to be like that is it? You're not a bigot, I'm just a stupid child too weak to fight with the rest of you. Never mind that half of you are out of shape, office workers, or near geriatrics, I'm the one who won't be worth a damn in a fight." Taylor scoffed and ignored a number of people bristling at those descriptions. "But what else should I expect from a coward that thinks slaughtering civilians in their homes is a fair fight."

"Watch your mouth, girl! You have no idea what you're talking about!" Snape stood from his chair trying to loom. Taylor didn't react at all.

"Oh? You sure about that? I've met plenty of neo Nazis and that's what they are like. Hiding behind a mask or a bedsheet. Doesn't seem like much of a difference to me."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to interject but Snape snarled out his next retort first.

"Potter! Make yourself useful for once and control your wife! If you're not even going to explain the reality of the situation to her you shouldn't have brought her."

He did not just say that. Merlin damn it, he did.

"Clear your mind, Snape, maybe that will help, though I doubt it." For one glorious second, he looked like I'd slapped him with a fish.

"Really now, I think-" Dumbledore started to speak but Taylor rolled right over him.

"Control your wife." Taylor quoted with venom. "Not just a bigot, no you're also a misogynist. Can't deal with a woman who's willing to talk back? Or are you just not used to anyone calling you out after all these years operating in Dumbledore's shadow. I'll tell you what I know about people like you, Snape, and groups like your masked friends. They don't give gang tats to just anyone. So tell me, what did you do to earn that skull on your arm?"

The dining room fell silent for a moment and before anyone could form a response Taylor pushed on.

"Gang initiations are never pretty." She spoke softly, harshly. "I doubt they made you take a beating to prove how tough you are. Not with a group like this. Sometimes you would hear about victims escaping with just a nasty beating that leaves them in the hospital until all the organ damage heals. But the ones I'm most familiar with? Those are ethnic gangs. Asian centric and neo Nazis. Those initiations are usually just murdering some innocent person for being different."

I could actually see the moment Snape realized Taylor wasn't just talking complete shite. She was looking at him and seeing a man who did something inexcusable for reasons she rejected, and she hated him for it. More than that she was going to drag the reason she hated him into the light in front of a room full of people he is supposed to work with.

And all around the room people shifted. Like turning a kaleidoscope, suddenly the picture changed. Now it wasn't Snape putting the upstart teen with no magic, and no clue what was happening, in her place. It was a girl with experience decrying a man who did something horrible for shite reasons.

"That would be bad enough on its own, but you couldn't even commit. No, you got cold feet and went running to Dumbledore for protection." Taylor scoffed. "And the only guarantee anyone has that you won't do the same to us if it looks like we're going to lose… is that one man trusts you. As far as I'm concerned the best thing I could do for the war effort right this instant, is bury you in a shallow grave and be done with it."

Snape rallied and sneered, but it lacked some of the usual impact.

"That would be very shortsighted when I am the only spy in the enemy camp."

"Not if we're the enemy." Taylor answered flatly. "Though you might have a point, it would be better to dose you with a truth potion and get names and locations before killing you." Taylor shrugged. "Of course, that would only help if this bunch is willing to start assassinating the opposition." She looked around the room and took in the many thoughtful faces and sighed before looking at me. "I still say we would do better organizing your defense students into a proper militia. Just need a tighter magical contract with harsher penalties, make sure they know what they're signing up for from the beginning instead of leaving it a surprise like Hermione did."

And there she goes playing to the audience again. She's not in control, we hadn't planned this out loosely in advance. Oh no, this was me dragging her along and convincing her to play nice. And leaving that little reminder that we could figure something out without the Order if we really needed to wasn't intentional, that was just rehashing an old argument. And just like all her best lies it was even technically true.

I shrugged.

"You agreed to let me try. They've got experience from the last war, and resources, and the only information network available."

Taylor sighed dramatically and I had to swallow a grin so I didn't give the game away.

"Look," I said, turning back to the rest of the room, "we could sit here all night and let Taylor rip through Snape's credibility." And wouldn't that be fun to watch? "Or we could get on with it. I've got a couple things to bring up tonight either way."

Moody cackled.

"Oh, I like you, lass. Potter, I don't know where you found this girl, but she's a keeper. Known each other for less than a month and she's got you standing up for yourself like you could whip the world with her help." The man snickered to himself. "Mrs. Potter, do this pack of idiots a favor and show them what you were ready to do if Snape went for his wand."

Taylor breathed out a quiet huff and then made a come here gesture.

A pair of doxies poised on either side of Snape's neck hissed before flying over to land on Taylor's shoulders. A scorpion dropped to the table from both of Snape's sleeves, and a black widow crawled out of the pocket I assumed had his wand. Then just to really drive the point home Taylor pulled a knife and laid it across her lap.

Which was interesting because I know she had one of the smaller pistols on her. Given Moody's grin actually got toothier, so did he.

Snape's face paled a little. No one said a word, but Moody kept right on cackling.

"Oh yes, Snape. Girl had you right where she wanted you. If you'd gone for your wand you'd have been bitten and stung bad enough to startle, probably even tossed your own wand, and then she'd have been on you before you could figure out what happened."

Moody chortled.

"I keep telling you lot, constant vigilance! Girly knows exactly how bad it would be to get into a duel with someone, but she doesn't have to win a duel to win, and she's not going to try."

Taylor eyed Moody, looking a bit put out. Definitely because he had called her on it. I could almost see the competing thoughts. That was one card up her sleeve she had to assume Voldemort would know soon enough, and she hadn't even gotten to use it. On the other hand, this might just get some of the Order to take her a bit seriously. Finally, she shrugged.

"Spell, knife, or rock to the head, you're just as dead no matter how they kill you."

Moody started cackling again.

"Let 'em stay, Albus. I want to hear what these kids have cooked up." Moody settled back into his chair.

Snape looked like he was chewing on a lemon, but he kept his mouth shut. Around the room people murmured, not sure what to think anymore. Mrs. Weasley was very visibly scandalized. But most important Dumbledore was looking at us blank faced as he stroked his beard, and not pushing to toss us out. He was at least thinking about it. Finally, Dumbledore nodded and started asking people for their reports.

I let out a very quiet breath I'd tried not to hold. Taylor noticed and surreptitiously bumped her knee against mine. Right. Game face. We were in, now we needed to fade into the background like responsible adults and wait for our turn to talk. Otherwise we'd seem way too pushy.

{}{}{}{} Taylor

This meeting was in fact more interesting than the last. Dumbledore explained that he had forced the international community's hand with reminders of just how many planes and cargo ships left Britain daily, and just how bad it could get if the dementors decided to spread out. That got most countries to move in a hurry. But it came with a price: the international community now felt that Britain owed them and they were very unlikely to offer further aid so long as Voldemort stuck to Britain and stayed out of their business.

Unfortunate, but predictable. Given they had stayed out of things last time and left Britain to sort itself out? Probably the best anyone could have asked for or accomplished. It also meant Dumbledore was giving up on trying to pressure other nations for more aid which meant more resources directed at the threat. Really, I wasn't hearing any major downsides.

Snape confirmed the Lich was in a snit and that the three dementors he had been keeping close fled, either into the countryside or back to their island prison. Nymphadora then gleefully piled on more good news by declaring the DMLE caught those three trying to sneak back in like they had done nothing wrong. The DMLE decided everyone else had the right idea and sunk them in very deep water in an unbreakable box.

That declaration won a round of genuine cheers,

Then it was a stream of very boring reports hiding tiny little nuggets of genuine intelligence. Three different surveillance targets were all seen in the same bar at different times. It could be a good bar, a recruiting ground, or a place they could drop information to one another outside full meetings. One guy had a fondness for walks through the countryside and even had a preferred trail to follow. And a certain foody went to the same restaurant at least once a week.

I'd actually pulled out a pad and wrote those details down. One business to investigate and two easy targets right there waiting to be hit. Just needed to talk strategy and find out if they wanted to do this piecemeal or wait until they had intelligence on as many targets as possible.

Finally, the last reports rolled in and the meeting started wrapping up.

"Was there any other business anyone needed to bring up?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and spoke up.

"Yes, sir. Taylor and I haven't had much to do besides exchanging stories and plotting, so we've been picking away at how we could contribute and we came up with a few things. First one is really all Taylor though." He glanced my way and I nodded.

"So before… all of this happened." I gestured at Harry, which prompted a wry grin from my husband. "I had to survive a lot of nasty situations of my own. And one thing that saved my life a few times is spider silk." I pulled out several foot long lengths of silk cord and started passing them around. The Order members eyed them oddly, not sure what they were supposed to be seeing.

"If you use the right kind of spiders, you can make fabric or rope that almost refuses to be cut. I had to use tin snips the first time I tried this out, and even then, it took a lot of work to cut it. Don't ask me how well it stands up to magic because I have no idea. I doubt it would save you from a direct hit with a cutting curse or anything, but it will absolutely stop knives, and more importantly for you all, shrapnel. Which could be very useful if someone decides to throw around blasting curses. Or if you manage to get behind something when they throw the killing curse around, and your cover starts exploding."

Several members of the Order now eyed the small lengths of cord thoughtfully. I shrugged. And very deliberately did not mention my hopes that silk from magic spiders might be spell resistant.

"The problem is just how many spiders you need to make even a little bit of cloth. Never mind silk shirts and long johns for everyone here. And the best breeds of spiders for this are not native to Britain. I brought some of the second best with me, but breeding a large enough population for this much work would take months, and be very difficult to maintain in winter. But Harry tells me you already have a good sized population of spiders, right next to your school." I looked Dumbledore in the eye.

"The acromantula." Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"Exactly. I won't know till I get a look at them and their silk. Maybe not until I can run some tests, but it's a possibility. Assuming I can actually control them. I've never tried to control anything sapient before. Might help, probably can't hurt, and more importantly, leaving a colony of man eating magic spiders that close to school children… it needs to be addressed. But I don't know them, or your groundskeeper, or the forest. So, at some point we should sit down and figure that out. Especially if this Dark Lord might decide to try pointing them at us."

Now a lot of people were looking very nervous and muttering to themselves. That was what we agreed would be my contribution. A reminder of a nasty threat in their backyard and an offer of something potentially life saving, but not game changing.

I settled back against the wall and let Harry pick things back up.

"The other thing we've been thinking on," Harry said firmly, pulling attention back to him, "is Voldemort's survival, and how to avoid a repeat. Between the two of us and the Black family library we've cooked up… a lot of back up plans in case we can't figure out how to undo whatever keeps him here. That list includes: giving him a lobotomy, years of total sensory deprivation, draught of living death, and obliviating him until he can't remember how to walk."

I grinned darkly and started bouncing one leg for show.

"We've got more ideas, and I'd be happy to offer up the full list sometime, but I wanted to put the idea out there, in case anyone else has better ideas. Just something to think about." Harry continued.

Moody was looking very darkly amused by the abbreviated list. A lot of people were looking back and forth between Harry and I, maybe trying to figure out who came up with what. And Dumbledore, as well as a couple others, looked… not disappointed or angry, just sort of tired and sad.

"We also have… well we've got a theory. About how he pulled it off." Harry eyed Dumbledore carefully but the old man just blinked in surprise. "Taylor likes to read, and it turns out muggles remember a lot of things about us; they just don't realize any of it is real and you have to sift through the nonsense that got mixed in over time. When I told her everything it reminded her of the villain from a novel, and then she remembered that it had its roots in old folk tales about people or creatures hiding their death in-"

"Enough!" Dumbledore's voice cracked like a whip through the room. All eyes snapped to his dumbstruck face as he visibly shook. Harry shook his head like he couldn't quite believe it.

"Shite, we're right, aren't we? It would explain…" Harry shut his mouth with a click. "Well, that's just bloody terrible."

I shrugged.

"We already suspected." I said. "Either we can deal with the problem, or we can't. And we've already got a list of options ready in case we can't. Though if we're going to go that route, we better get rid of his followers first." I tapped my notepad. "Which reminds me, are you all trying to get information on as many targets as possible before acting? Or are you going to start planning disappearances? The guy who likes hiking and the one always eating at the same restaurant would be really easy to abduct, question and vanish." I eyed Snape. "And changes in their routine would be very obvious."

Snape scowled at me, but didn't get to respond as two different arguments kicked off at once. Most were demanding to know exactly what Harry and I figured out, while Dumbledore told them all to drop it. And the rest were arguing about hitting targets now versus waiting.

Harry jumped right into that debate, advocating for waiting until we could get at least a handful quickly, but not so many that we were spread thin enough to take chances with the abductions. Then asked if the Lich could track the Dark Marks and where we could safely interrogate them.

I kept my mouth shut for now, content to soak in the chaos and debates. Harry did in fact have a decent head for this when he stopped to think, and Mad-Eye at least was willing to answer the questions we had that kept stalling our own planning sessions. Now the ball was in the hands of Dumbledore and the Order. There wasn't much else for us to do until they sorted themselves out and decided how they would proceed.