HP Priorities XX

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    Chapter 333 A Leisurely Cruise

    Thats it? What a piece of junk! Ron slapped at his forearm, trying to catch another of

    the interminable gnats flying about in the hot sun. His face was still flushed, both from

    the heat and from seeing the boat theyd be spending a week on. They were walking

    down a sloping pathway that led to wooden wharf on the river. The sun was at its apex,beating down mercilessly on the workers below. Thick clouds of reddish yellow dust

    floated in the air, coating every crease and crevice in their clothing. Harry snorted and

    hefted shifted the strap of the bag around his shoulder and tightened his grip on the

    handles of the suitcases he was carrying in each hand.

    Stop complaining, Ron. You picked this vacation, after all. Harry continued down the

    wharf, wishing, yet again, that he could simply draw his wand and levitate the luggage

    to the waiting boat. It was not to be. Theyd booked a vacation on a muggle cruise and

    most of the crowd around them were muggles. He grit his teeth and continued on.

    The path ended at the edge of a ramshackle wooden wharf, choked with people, crates

    and animals. The sounds were that of a crowded bazaar, every so often punctuated by

    the long, baleful bleat of a boat whistle. Their ship was at the end of the pier, bound

    tightly to the bollards by frayed and battered ropes. Of course, calling the vessel a ship

    was quite charitable, for it was actually quite small, typical of the old Nile river steamers.

    It looked more like a dirty white box atop a raft with two long, thin black smokestacks

    poking through. Soot, smoke and cinders belched from the stacks while a large red

    paddle wheel was affixed to the stern, the paint chipping, but seeming to strain against

    its lock in a need to carry its charge out onto the Nile itself.

    Near the pier, the rivers water was a grimy green and brown with layers of dust and dirtand trash floating on the top. Ron pinched his nose as he looked down at the water.

    Ew, Im getting an infection just looking atthat water. He pointed out towards the

    middle of the river. Look, they cant even keep those logs out of the water. Someone

    is going to hit one of them.

    Ginny snorted. Those arent logs, Ron. Her brother shook his head and then stared

    outward. Ginny nodded. Yep, crocodiles. I wouldnt worry too much about swimming

    around here if I were you.

    The gangway consisted of two cracked wooden planks reaching from the pier down to

    the main deck. Gingerly, the foursome did a precarious wire walk laden with their bags

    and made their way onto the boat. When the plopped on board, a bored looking

    officer, dressed in white shorts, a white officers shirt complete with a gold striped

    shoulder board and a white peaked cap looked up from a magazine that was atop the

    weather beaten podium he was leaning against. The front of the poem had dull, barely

    readable letters, spelling out the ships name, Cleopatra. Harry shook his head. It was

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    an obvious attempt to curry favor with the tourists. He was about to say something to

    Ron, when the man spoke.

    Greetings, welcome aboard the Cleopatra. My name is Yawar Shah, I am the ships

    purser. He hesitated and then continued. Im also its cook, chief engineer, executive

    officer and activities director. Yawar smiled pleasantly. He was older than he firstappeared with dark brown skin and a thick bushy mustache flecked with streaks of gray

    and white. He had dark black eyes beneath a large, protruding uni-brow. Upon closer

    inspection, his white uniform had spots all over it, obvious food and drink stains that

    had left their marks all over him. He moved his can of soda from atop a green ledger on

    top of the podium. He flipped open the book and snorted.

    Are we expecting you? He asked, arching his one large eyebrow at one end.

    Hermione smiled. Yes, the Potters and Weasleys. She said with a smirk. Yawar made

    a show of scanning the ledger and mumbling to himself. The Cleopatra was a standard

    river steamer and as such, never carried more than twenty to twenty five passengers

    and the current economic climate convinced Hermione that there couldnt be more

    than ten or fifteen on this trip. Finally, he stood straight.

    Ah yes, here we are. He reached beneath the podium and lifted a tiny rusted bell by a

    long, worn wooden handle. He ran the bell pretentiously, eliciting a smirk from a portly

    man sitting nearby, wearing an tightly fitting, dirty white smock. He stood and grinned.

    Yes sir?

    Yawar raised his nose in the air. Please take the Potters and Weasleys luggage tocabins four and five, please. The fat porter nodded, his chins shaking from the effort.

    He snapped his fingers and two sailors appeared to grab their luggage. The porter

    bowed and extended his hand.

    This way, please. Harry shared a baleful glance with Ron, who snorted.

    This should be fun.

    ***

    James felt the hot breath of the creature as its paws pressed down on his chest. For a

    moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of panic then something clicked in his head and

    he reached out and smacked the beast on the tip of its snout.

    Cut it out, Teddy. Youre getting my robes dirty. With a snarl, the large werewolf

    gradually morphed into the smiling form of Teddy Lupin. The teen stood up and

    extended his hand towards James.

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    What are you doing here, James? Teddy brushed some dust off his pants and then

    folded his arms, staring at the younger student.

    I was exploring. I found this place. James looked around. What is this place?

    Teddy shrugged his shoulders. Its some sort of museum.

    James nodded. I can see that, but who put it together?

    I dont know, its always been here, as far as I can tell. I didnt put the exhibits about

    my friends and me. Teddy turned towards James. So you found the passage entrance

    near the kitchen?

    What? Oh, no, theres an opening near the harbor cave entrance. I climbed down

    there. James replied and then began studying the exhibits. He paused at the empty

    slab that was obvious by its lack of adornment. Wheres my Dads era?

    Teddy shrugged. I dont know. I only found this place a couple of years ago and it was

    like this when I got here.

    Who updates this place? Someone has to do it. James asked.

    Teddy shook his head. I dont know. Every so often, Ill come down here and

    something is added. Teddy walked to a low shelf carved into the wall and sat down. I

    really only come here to get away.

    Get away from what? James joined Teddy on the bench.

    Mostly, I was hiding from Victoire and Graciella. James nodded and then snickered.

    That problem is over, isnt it? I heard they caught you and turned you into a frog or

    something. James broke into an open laugh.

    Despite himself, Teddy laughed. Well, theyre not hunting me down, but I still like to

    get away from them.

    From them or from one of them in particular? James teased.

    Ill never say.

    James jumped up and walked to the empty display case. Id sure like to know why my

    parents are included here. He turned and faced Teddy. They practically saved the

    planet from Voldemort.

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    Teddy stood and sighed. Okay, what do you want to do?

    James smacked his hands together. Well first, we could create their exhibit ourselves

    and then second, we find out who did this.

    Sounds easy. Teddy snorted, not really meaning it. Building Uncle Harrys exhibit is

    something we can do, so how exactly do we find out who this little museums curator

    is?

    James punched Teddy playfully on the arm. Thats the easy part. James grinned, the

    wheels turning in his mind. Obviously someone doesnt want my parents time

    remembered. If we put something here, theyll be bound to come back and remove the

    items. When they do, BAM! Well catch them.

    James folded his arms while Teddy contemplated his plan. After a moment, Teddy

    snapped his fingers. It might just work, but well need help. Teddy started walking

    towards the far end of the cave, presumably towards the entrance. It might just work.

    ***

    The oppressive heat of the Indian summer did not seem to extend to their cabins.

    Despite outward appearances, their rooms were surprisingly large and comfortable.

    The four friends made their way down the narrow central corridor lined with mahogany

    doors denoting the other cabins on the boat. At the end of the corridor was a pair of

    French doors that led to the parlor, which, like the cabins was well apportioned and at a

    comfortable temperature.

    As they entered the parlor, they saw about a dozen of their fellow passengers engaged

    in various activities around the room while cabin boys walked around carrying large

    silver trays lined with food and drink. One of the servers approached them and held out

    a tray with four glasses atop and they each took one while Harry nodded his thanks.

    Nearby, there was a tall, older man wearing a khaki safari shirt, matching shorts, brightly

    polished brown leather boots with a pith helmet atop his head canted at a jaunty angle.

    His look was finished by the swagger stick he held tucked beneath his right arm and he

    had a monocle stuck right in front of his right eye, magnifying the blue color of that eyeto twice its size. If he seemed a bit over the top, his companion was decidedly well over

    the moon.

    He was short, no more than five foot four with a head shaped like an egg, tilted to one

    side. He had a stiff, military mustache and his black hair was perfectly styled, not a

    strand out of place. Despite being in Egypt, he wore a dark gray worsted wool suit with

    a perfectly tied regimental tie. His shoes were black leather, polished to a brilliant

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    sheen and he held a cup and saucer daintily in his hands, his pinkie finger extended as

    he took a sip. He turned to the newcomers and bowed at the hip.

    He spoke with heavy French accent. Well, bon jour! You must be our newly arrived

    guests. He stood, his bearing impeccable and his clothes unblemished by dirt or dust.

    My name is Hercule Poirot and this is my friend, Colonel Race.

    The tall man with the monocle clicked his heels together and smiled. Retired, of

    course.

    With deliberate effort, Harry stifled a grin and introduced Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

    Ron took a sip of his drink.

    Poirot? So youre French, then? Colonel Race snorted on his tea and Poirot turned a

    decided shade of puce around his neck.

    The small man lifted his nose and spoke regally. I am Belgian, monsieur, surely you can

    tell the difference.

    Ron stumbled on his words and then recovered carefully. Now that you mention it, I

    did think that the mustache was a Belgian style. This time Harry allowed a laugh to

    escape his lips and Ginny grinned wide. She stepped forward.

    What do you do, Monsieur Poirot? This time Colonel Race interrupted.

    Youve never heard of Hercule Poirot? Hes the greatest detective mind thats ever

    lived. Poirot seemed to feign embarrassment, but did not stop his friend. Hes thebest criminal investigator to ever catch a murderer. Race took a breath and nodded in

    apologize. Of course, Im embarrassing my friend. What do you all do?

    Ron looked at the small man and his companion. Well Ginny, my sister, is a reporter.

    Race smiled. Oh really, what do you cover?

    She covers Quidd- oomph Before Ron could complete his sentence, he felt Ginnys

    elbow in his stomach. She stepped forward.

    Im a sports reporter. Race nodded, but no one seemed to notice the thoughtful gaze

    on Poirots face.

    Still rubbing his stomach, Ron offered Ginny a withering look and continued. My wife,

    Hermione, This time Ron hesitated, as if choosing his words. She works for the

    government as a prosecutor. Ron checked with Hermione who nodded. Harry and I

    are constables back in England.

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    Mon dieu, how wonderful. Poirot responded. It is so nice to be around fellow

    professionals. He leaned in and his voice dropped. I have been using my little gray

    cells to make observations about our fellow passengers. He smiled broadly. I have a

    feeling that this will be a very interesting voyage.

    Harry looked around the parlor. Really, whys that?

    Poirot gestured for them to follow him out onto the deck where several lounge chairs

    were arrayed. Come with me, my new friends and I will regale you with what I have

    seen.

    The four followed Race and Poirot out onto the deck. They walked past a young,

    attractive couple who were engrossed in a game of chess. The woman flashed a grin at

    Ron and then turned back to her companion. Ron stopped for a moment and then

    continued on, now more curious then ever to discover the secrets of the passengers.

    Chapter 334 Mouse Traps

    Poirot and Race settled on a pair of high stools next to an elaborate tiki bar along the

    back rail of the open patio. Harry noticed a grinding noise as the canvas roof of the

    parlor was peeled back, creating a larger party space. The sun was slowly settling over

    the western horizon and a cool breeze was flowing across the Nile, making for a

    pleasant early evening. The hustle of the pier had been left behind, replaced by low

    banks teeming with lush green foliage and rows and rows of fig trees. The only sound

    seemed to be the regular flow of black smoke from the twin stacks atop the Cleopatrasinfrastructure. All around, the porters were lighting torches affixed to the rail along the

    edge of the platform. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione gathered around their new

    companions, their backs to the bar, looking forward towards the rest of the passengers.

    Poirot accepted a small, clear glass of port and sipped it daintily. He sighed in

    appreciation and looked up at Harry. So, Constable Harry, let us share observations,

    yes? He nodded unobtrusively towards a young couple crouched over a low table with

    an ornate chess set. Their heads were together and they were giggling after every

    move. The woman wore an extravagant dinner dress and her neck, wrists and ears were

    adorned with the most expensive jewelry Harry had ever seen. She was pretty, but notoverly so, with brown hair and brown eyes. She seemed a bit on the too thin side, with

    her bare shoulders showing more bone than shape. Her companion was young and well

    built, with a strong chin and nose and darting eyes that never seemed to quite focus on

    the lady. He was wearing black trousers, a black bow tie with a white shirt and a white

    dinner jacket with the bud of a small rose affixed to the lapel.

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    Harry smiled. They are new couple, maybe newly married. She seems to be rather

    well off.

    Poirot beamed and snorted gently. Bien, Monsieur Harry. You are exactly correct.

    That is Linnet Ridgeway Doyle and Simon Doyle. They are, how do you say, on their

    honeymoon. What else do you notice? Harry looked over the diminutive Belgian, butPoirot shrugged. Please, indulge me, its important.

    Harry stared at the pair, but he couldnt determine information beyond what he had.

    Ginny and Hermione shared a quick glance and then Ginny smiled. Mrs. Doyle is very

    well off, but her husband doesnt come from money.

    How do you know, Madame Potter? Poirot asked, in the manner of a professor.

    Ginny smiled.

    His clothes are all new. They are expensive, but dont quite fit, like they were bought

    recently and off the rack. Hes wearing expensive fashions, but he doesnt have any

    accessories that would say hed worn that type of clothing all his life. Harry looked at

    Ginny, a question in his eyes. She smiled. There are no cuff links, no rings, no watch

    chains, just the new outfit.

    Poirots eyes glistenedin delight. Oh, well done, Madame. Ive always thought that a

    journalists powers of observation must match that of a great detective, like myself. You

    are, of course, both correct. He sipped his wine. Madame Doyles father founded

    Ridgeway Microtech, a very large electronics consortium. She is worth billions. Her

    husband, Simon, is someone she met through a friend in college, which brings us to the

    next person. He paused and then indicated a rather shapely woman tryingunsuccessfully to blend into the corner of the room. She wore a simple black dress and

    a single strand of pearls. She held a drink in her hand was acting like she was interested

    in the conversation that a man and Yawar were having, but every so often, she would

    glance at the Doyles and her eyes were light into a fire, like two gleaming blue orbs. She

    was stunningly beautiful with long, rich brown hair. Her skin was smooth, with a hint of

    redness beneath her eyes and on her cheeks. It was the mixture of anger and hurt in

    her eyes every time she stared at the newlyweds which caught their attention. Ron,

    however, was the first to speak.

    That must be the friend from college, yeah? I bet she and old Simon were an item backthen and old money bags stole him from her. Rons lower jaw jutted out prominently

    as he stared down Poirot for affirmation. The nattily clad man smiled.

    You are correct, mostly. That young lady is Jacqueline de Bellefort and yes, she went to

    school with Mrs. Doyle and yes, she and Simon Doyle were an item before Linnet met

    him, but it was Simon who strayed, not Linnet who drew him off. Rons confidence

    drew down ever so slightly. Do not worry, Monsieur Weasley, you were mostly

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    correct. The poor girl, as I understand things, has been following the Doyles where ever

    they go. It is a sad, pathetic tale of a woman scorned, Im afraid.

    Harry watched Jacqueline with renewed interest and shook his head. How sad.

    Yes, Monsieur Potter, how sad indeed, but ah, let me introduce you to the others onthis voyage. Harry nodded at Poirot and leaned in as he continued his exposition. As

    he turned towards the diminutive Belgian, Harry caught a look on de Belleforts face.

    Her eyes were still focused on the couple, but seemed to be locked on Linnet. They

    blazed with hatred, with an unbridled, seething venom that no one else saw and which

    quickly disappeared. Harry felt a shiver run through his spine, for hed seen that look

    only a few times before. The look was murder. Its user wanted to kill. Harry resolved

    to keep a close eye on the jilted Ms. De Bellefort. This was turning into a very

    interesting cruise, indeed.

    ***

    Very little had changed through the years for the New Marauders, save for the

    weirdness of their interpersonal relationships. Janet Higgs had dated Martin Peake and

    Alan Bass in turn, and for a while, there was a bit of tension between the two dorm

    mates until Lunastus had locked them both in the wash room until theyd worked out

    their differences. Lunastus Rookwood had grown into an even larger than life figure,

    still relatively shy and a young man of few words. However, when he spoke, his friends,

    including Teddy, tended to heed his advice. Carlo Baretto was still rail thin and the

    complete antithesis of his vivacious mother. He still struggled with the increased

    tension that having Graciela and Victoire around after Teddys adventure with the both

    of them. Even now, there was uneasiness among them which their friends had no ideahow deal.

    The person whod both changed the most and changed the least was Richard Leveille.

    He was still the hypochondriac, dusting here and there with his ever present anti-

    bacterial wipes and face masks. When they were younger, his friends had to fend off

    would be bullies from the frail young wizard, but his discovery of his ability in Quidditch,

    combined with the fact that of all of them, hed grown the most, tended to dissuade the

    efforts of the more boorish members of the school. Still, Richard was Richard and the

    journey into the cavern brought about his omnipresent nervousness about dust and

    dander.

    Would have killed you to dust a little? Richard carefully removed another disposable

    handkerchief from the zip loc bag he pulled from his robe pocket. I mean really, a

    museum doesnt need to preserve the dirt and grime thats accumulated over the

    centuries. He stopped and sneezed and then pulled a pair of rubber surgical gloves

    from his front pocket and carefully stuck his hands inside. I hope I dont need a tetanus

    shot after this.

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    There was a collective chuckle among the group and James smiled at how easily they

    worked together, despite the differences some of them had. Even Richards whining

    was taken with ease, and then put to an immediate stop when it went too far.

    I really should take a disinfectant rag to this armor. Richard started digging into yetanother pocket when a deep, rumbling voice stopped him.

    Youll not touch anything in that exhibit, Richard, I mean it. Lunastus stood next to

    Richard, between him and his intended target.

    But, Lune, its filthy! You can only imagine how much of a breeding ground for germs it

    is. Despite his reply, Richard did not make a move towards the exhibit. It was the first

    one in the series and Lunastus turned to face it.

    That suit of armor belonged to Godric Gryffindor, Richard. I dont think we deserve to

    touch it. There was a reverence in Lunastus voice. Richard stopped squirming and his

    face became thoughtful.

    Gryffindors? Really? Richard looked around, his aversion to the musty cavern lost.

    How did all this stuff get here? Were not talking about a second-hand museum.

    Someone went to great lengths to put this here.

    Thats what were going to find out. Teddy said, leading a group of levitated boxes

    down the ramp.

    I know this is stupid question, but Ill ask it anyway. Carlo was examining an exhibitfrom the nineteenth century. Did anyone think to ask a teacher?

    There was general silence among the group. Carlo took a deep breath. Not for

    nothing, but what if this place was already known about and the faculty maintains it?

    What about the missing exhibit? James asked. And the secrecy?

    Carlo shrugged. There are a lot of very valuable items here. Theres Gryffindors armor

    and the first Quidditch brooms.

    And my fathers era? James would not be turned away so quickly.

    Victoire spoke up. Well, the current teachers are mostly from that class. Professor Nott

    and Professor Longbottom, if you really think about it, and Headmaster Shacklebolt.

    Whats your point, Vee? Teddy asked hesitantly. He grimaced when he saw her flinch

    when he spoke. She addressed her response to all of them.

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    Im just saying that considering who they are, maybe the felt funny about glorifying

    themselves. Most of them are pretty reluctant when you talk about what they did

    during the struggle. She said.

    James started to open his mouth and then clamped it shut. His father never likedtalking about what he did, only about what others did. James felt a burning sense of

    disappointment at the prospect that their adventure would end due to a simple case of

    modesty. He was just about to raise his hands in surrender when a loud voice pierced

    the room.

    Well, I asked a teacher. It was Graciela. She was standing near the entrance with an

    older, but recognizable Rubeus Hagrid next to her.

    Alan smacked his head. You BROUGHT a teacher here? What are you, daft? Her

    piercing stare brought a meek response from Alan. Sorry.

    Don you worry yer lil heads about young Gracie here. She done right in callin me out

    here. I never seen anythin like it. Hagrid glanced down at one of the exhibits, dated

    sometime two hundred years earlier. Inside was an oversized boot missing its laces.

    They een ha Grupus Hazards shoe here. This is big, indeed. No, my pets, this isnt the

    handiwork of yer teachers. This is somefin else all together.

    Youll help us Hagrid? James eyes were energized.

    Of cours I will, young James. In fact, I brought somefin for yon mousetrap. Hagrid

    reached into the folds of his vest and pulled out two items. One was a large talon, thatlooked small in his hand and the other was an oversized eagles feather, both of which

    he laid in the staging area for the Harry Potter Era exhibit.

    The students stumbled together to view the treasures. Even Richard gazed with

    reverent awe. James studied the items and then turned to Hagrid. What are they?

    Im glad you asked. That talon and that feather come from my good friend, Buckbeak.

    Now everyone knows who Buckbeak is, yeah? Hagrid put his hands on his hips. Well,

    these come before the Buckbeak escaped the executioner. He molted and I kept them

    as mementos.

    Those are perfect, Hagrid. Teddy smiled. The large half giant nodded in appreciation.

    What else you got there, Teddy? Hagrid asked and Teddy stood.

    Well, James and I figured wed start with stuff we had and I asked my grandmother to

    send some items and well, we kind of appropriated some things from around the

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    school. This brought a look of disapproval from Hagrid and Teddy turned red. Well

    return them as soon as we can. I promise.

    Not completely mollified, Hagrid didnt say anything as Teddy pulled items from a box.

    Well, for starters, we have pictures of the people, you know, Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny,

    Aunt Hermione, but we got some really cool stuff. My grandmother sent me mymothers Auror shield. Teddy paused and held the silver badge in his hand reverently,

    then continued. We have a pair of Uncle Harrys glasses from when he was a second

    year, some basilisk tusks from the Battle of Hogwarts, a broken time turner, a cracked

    crystal ball, a singed Gryffindor flag from the Triwizard Tournament, and a bunch of

    other stuff.

    Teddy handed the items over to Alan and Martin, who arranged them in the empty

    display space. After a few hours, they had everything laid out. Victoire added the

    finishing touch. She drew her wand and aimed at the rock wall. Her spell caused

    several spots on the wall to glow brightly, illuminating pieces of the exhibit like a spot

    light. The rock face turned crystalline and mirrored other lighting in the cavern. The

    spell was complex, because the light could not be warm and it had to last for a while,

    years. Victoire was an extraordinary witch, however, and the spell was well done.

    Nice. Teddy said. He noticed Victoire flush slightly which made his chest warm, but

    what really got to him was the fact she did not recoil when he spoke. For the first time

    in quite a while, he allowed himself to feel hope. His reverie was interrupted by Martin.

    So, now what do we do? He asked.

    James rolled his eyes. We wait! Duh! James never saw the twin water balloons thatMartin and Alan tossed his way.

    Chapter 335 Fandom

    ***The day after the Battle of Hogwarts***

    The suburban neighborhood in the northwest corner of London was unremarkable. The

    homes were cookie cutter varieties of the same design, neatly arrayed in a mind-

    numbing sameness that bespoke of a standard, middle class upbringing. The bus cameto a stop alongside one of the many intersections in the neighborhood and a gangling,

    rail thin teen dressed in black trousers, black tee shirt and black combat boots jumped

    down the stairs and started walking rapidly towards a nearby cul-de-sac. He had a

    canvas backpack draped over his shoulder and he leaned forward from the weight of the

    books that it contained. Although he appeared to be looking straight ahead, his eyes

    were glazed over from deep thought and some tears, not of sadness, but of anger.

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    Despite the warm late spring day, his face was flushed, as if hed stayed out in a winter

    gale far too long.

    He turned up the path of one the homes and pulled a key from a chain looped around

    his neck. He stopped in front of the door and took a quick look to either side to see if

    anyone was watching. He dropped the key back inside his shirt and reached into foldsof his bag. He drew out a thin, straight piece of dark wood and aimed it at the door.

    Alohomora. There was a brief click and the door opened slightly. Despite his dour

    mood, the teen smiled to himself and pushed the door open. He took the stairs two at a

    time and ran into his room, shutting the door and throwing his bag atop his bed. He

    stepped over the piles of clothes on the floor and plopped down in the seat beside his

    desk. He looked about the room without really seeing it. The worst thing had happened

    and he didnt know what to do.

    It was a typical teenagers room. It wasnt tidy, looking more like a tornado had sprinted

    through and deposited all of his worldly possessions about the area. The walls were

    dark blue with posters of various pop culture icons of the day strung all about. From the

    outside, Gardner Fox was no different from any other adolescent that one might see

    anywhere. Gardner was different. Hed found out when he was ten that he was a

    wizard. His father had died a few years after hed been born, leaving his brother and he

    alone with his muggle mother. She didnt speak much about his father, and she

    remarried rather quickly, to a man who had no idea about magic and was never told

    about how special Gardner was.

    At first, it was small things. A locked door would open as if of its own volition, or a

    pathway would clear out on a cold, snowy day. Objects seemed to fall from their placeson shelves when he looked at them. After a while, he found that these were not

    random events, but that he could control them. He thought he was special, that he was

    different, and for a long time, he kept his ability to himself. Then one day, his mother

    caught him making a dish fly through the kitchen from the table to a sink. She gasped

    and pulled him by the ear to his room.

    I dont ever want to see you do that again, you hear me? Ill put you out, I will. Her

    face was almost nose to nose with his. The fear in her eyes only compounded his own

    fear.

    B-but Mum, why? He blurted out. Am I a bad boy?

    Her face softened. No, baby. Your father, your real father, was She paused,

    collecting herself. He was a wizard. You might be one too, but being a wizard is what

    got him killed and I dont want that to happen to you.

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    She sighed and touched the top of his head. I didnt know much about your father, but

    he was something called a Deatheater. He was an evil, evil man. He was killed by other

    wizards and I decided to take you and your brother away from that world.

    Samuel is a wizard too? He asked, somewhat non-plussed at the thought that he

    wasnt unique, that he wasnt special.

    No baby, at least I dont think so. Her voice dropped, almost to a whisper. You must

    never let anyone know that you are a wizard. I dont want what happened to your

    father to happen to you. Do you promise?

    He thought for a moment, still slightly annoyed at her, but she was his mother. I

    promise, Mum. He meant it too. He kept his promise, right up until the day she died.

    ***

    He had just turned thirteen when a sudden illness took his mother from him, leaving

    him and his brother alone with their step father, Cameron Fox. Cameron wasnt a bad

    man and he was genuinely heartbroken when the boys mother died. He was a

    construction foreman, whose work often forced him to be away from the house for

    weeks at a time, leaving Gardner to care for his younger brother. At his mothers

    funeral, he nodded to his step father and walked off. There was a driving rainstorm, yet

    somehow, just by thinking he managed to keep the water from touching him. He smiled

    a brief apology to his now dead mother and decided that he wanted to continue being

    special. He turned a corner and nearly ran into a man standing on the corner of the

    sidewalk.

    Sorry, sir. Gardner mumbled. As he tried to walk around the man, he found his path

    blocked. The man had sidestepped in front of him. Gardner studied the man closely.

    He had a pockmarked face and his shoulders had a slight stoop. He smiled down at

    Gardner, but there was no mirth, only menace.

    You look like your father. The mans voice was surprisingly smooth, cultured. He

    sounded important, like the headmaster of his school. Gardner shook his head.

    Im sorry sir, but Im adopted. Gardner said weakly, but somehow he knew who the

    man meant.

    The man chuckled. Im talking about your real father. He was a friend of mine.

    Gardner paused. His mother said his father was an evil man. Was this man evil? Yet an

    overriding curiosity struck him. Gardner drew in a breath. You are a Death eater,

    right?

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    I see your mother told some of the story. His eyebrow arched. Of course, Im very

    sorry for you loss. It was very tragic the way she died. The man did not sound like he

    was sorry.

    What do you want? Among other things, the man was beginning to bore Gardner.

    I want nothing from you. My name is Augustus Rookwood and Ive come to pay my

    respects. He reached into the folds of his jacket. I also wanted to give you this. It

    belonged to your father. He held out a long, thin stick made of dark wood. It was

    tapered at the end with an intricately carved handle, a skull protruding at the end.

    Go ahead, take it. It was your fathers wand. Lets see if it chooses you. Despite his

    mothers warnings, despite his misgivings, something inside him compelled him to reach

    out. He grasped the wand by the handle and felt a tingle run up his arm. A sheen of

    blue light echoed from the tip of the wand and streamed across his body, bathing him in

    warmth. Rookwood smiled. The wand has selected you. Well done. You passed.

    Passed what? Gardner asked, still reveling in the warmth.

    Passed your first test as a wizard. You do want to be a wizard, dont you? Gardner

    simply nodded. There was no hesitation, no reluctance. The feeling of raw power

    seemed to satisfy a nagging hunger in his belly and he took to it rapidly.

    Rookwood shook his head from side to side. Youre a bit too old to start at Hogwarts,

    so I suppose Ill have to train you myself. Would you like that?

    Again, Gardner nodded. Rookwood pulled a weather beaten book out of his pocket andhanded it to Gardner. It was small, with faded yellow pages and a torn leather cover.

    The faintest hint of black lettering outlined the title.

    The Mysteries of the Dark Lord: A Manifesto from Lord Voldemort

    Gardner looked up. Whos Lord Voldemort?

    Rookwood sighed. He wasrather, he is a great man. Read up, young Fox and I will be

    back to start your lessons. He held up a finger of warning. Tell no one about this.

    Show no one what you can do. Do not try to practice magic without my supervision.The Ministry will find out if you do.

    The Ministry?

    Rookwood laughed. All in good time, my boy. Now run along. Like that, he

    disappeared in a flash of green smoke. Gardner gripped his wand and book and ran

    home.

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    ***

    Gardner held his head in his hands and let loose a groan. He reached into his backpack.

    He withdrew a tattered newspaper and unfolded it. He spread it out on his lap and took

    in the large blaring headline, that literally scrolled across the page.

    VOLDEMORT DEAD!!! POTTER TRIUMPHANT!!!

    He read further down the fold and saw the list of the dead. His mentor, Rookwood,

    wasnt on the list, but he had been taken into custody. Over the past few years,

    Gardner became more and more tied into the mythology that was Voldemort. He

    believed in the Dark Lord and that had all been wiped away. It had been wiped away by

    someone not much older than him.

    There was a loud bang, announcing the arrival of his younger brother. He could picture

    Samuels progress through the house from the noise. There was the thump of his bag

    being dropped by the door. There was the clatter of glass and dishware in the kitchen

    as he grabbed a snack. There was the steady thump of his feet as he came up the steps.

    Finally, there was the creak of the door as Samuel tucked his head inside Gardners

    door.

    Samuel immediately realized that something was wrong. Whats up? What

    happened?

    Voldemort is dead. Gardner shared everything with Samuel.

    What? Howd that happen? Whats going on?

    Gardner handed the paper to his brother who scanned the headline. Samuel shook his

    head. What kind of name is Harry Potter? Sounds plain.

    Despite his sadness, Gardner laughed. Samuel had a way about him that eased his

    fears.

    He was good enough to beat Voldemort and the Death eaters. Gardner said. Samuel

    nodded.

    So where does that leave us? What about your studies? Samuel asked finally.

    Gardner sighed. I was pretty much done with the basic stuff. I learned one very

    important thing.

    Whats that? Samuel asked.

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    Im nowhere near ready. I need to learn more. I need to practice. I need to prepare.

    Gardner said.

    Prepare for what? Samuel asked.

    Prepare to avenge the Dark Lord. Gardner said grimly, tossing the newspaper to the

    floor, the face of Harry James Potter looking out from the copy.

    ***

    ***Present Day***

    The Cleopatra wound its way slowly down the river, the personal dramas of the

    passengers very much on Harrys mind. The rest of the passengers were tied in some

    way to the major players of the drama: Linnet and Simon Doyle. There were agents and

    victims of her company. There were people with all kind crises related to the couple. It

    seemed to Harry, the plot to a very cheesy murder mystery dinner theater experience.

    Poirot and Race were the real mysteries. Strange and proper, yet very aloof, the two

    men seemed to be observing the Potters and Weasleys as much as they were observing

    the others on the cruise. Still, there was an underlying tension that Harry could not

    quite place his finger on. Harry stood on the veranda outside his cabin and sipped his

    drink. The Nile was smooth and glassy and the evening was cool. Thunderheads

    gathered in the distance, a cacophony of light and sound rumbling towards them.

    Harry stood lost in thought until he felt the warmth of her hands reach across his back

    and shoulders. He opened his arms, making room for Ginny to nestle beside him.Together, husband and wife looked out across the desolate landscape of the southern

    Nile basin.

    Penny for your thoughts? She asked softly. He chuckled and reached down and

    kissed her gently on the forehead.

    Oh, just thinking about all these strange people. Muggles can be quite entertaining.

    He rubbed her shoulder softly. What about you?

    James. She said, her voice very low.

    He nodded. James is fine, Ginny.

    Hes never been away from home this long. I misshim. Harry had never seen his wife

    this vulnerable. It was a bit disconcerting.

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    He turned and grasped her at the shoulders, his green eyes piercing the dusky evening

    and holding her eyes in check. James is fine, Ginny. Hes not alone. Hes got Teddy

    and Neville and Kingsley and everyone else. No student has ever had the support that

    hes had going to Hogwarts. He lowered his hands down to hers, pulling her towards

    him. Were on vacation, Ginny. I cant tell you how long its been since weve been

    alone. Lets enjoy it, okay? She smiled as he led her into their cabin. He returned thesmile and chuckled. James is as safe as anyone can be. I bet hes have a lot of fun,

    right about now.

    ***

    This is not fun. What is that thing? James trailed behind Richard as the two ran down

    one of the side passages leading from the cavern.

    Richard pointed his wand behind them and let fly a blasting charm that knocked bits of

    rock and dust down from the tunnel entrance. I dont know and as big as it is, that

    wont hold him long.

    As if answering Richards prediction, the tunnel was filled with a guttural roar followed

    by the sound rocks being blown aside. James felt a tendril of heat slip past him.

    Well, it breathes fire too. James quipped. Richard nodded and continued running.

    James dared not look back and kept on the older boys heels. Where does this go,

    anyway?

    I havent the foggiest idea and right now I dont care. Ill run to London if I have to.

    Richard turned into a sharp hairpin and continued. The tunnel continued to slopedownward. Why do you care, anyway?

    James grunted. I was just thinking.

    Yes?

    What if we run out of tunnel? At that moment, they came to a stop. The tunnel

    ended in a small round room, with no discernible exits. Richard looked at James sharply.

    What? Its not my fault! James held his hands out. Richard snorted.

    Draw your wand already, James. It looks like were about to see what this thing is,

    after all. James pulled out his wand and stood next Richard. Up the tunnel, there was

    a spout of fire and light at the hairpin, followed by a loud, raspy roar. They were about

    to find out, indeed.

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    Chapter 336 Continuing Education

    ***Five Years After the Battle of Hogwarts***

    Heathrow Airport held a steady thrum of noise over top of the masses of people

    scurrying to get to their planes or trying to navigate the myriad of baggage carousels.Samuel Fox hovered with the others waiting to greet arriving passengers outside the

    international arrivals terminal. Just turned twenty, Samuel was tall, with pale skin, dark

    black hair and an angular nose. Standing outside, he held a smoldering cigarette in his

    mouth and his hands were in his jacket pocket as protection from the cold. Soon

    enough, he saw the familiar figure of his brother, brushing past the customs agent and

    walking out the automatic double doors. His older brother, Gardner, seemed older, his

    frame more erect, his shoulders broader, but it wasnt the physical change that Samuel

    noticed as much as the change in demeanor. When Gardner had left four years ago,

    Samuel had fought it. It wasnt that he didnt like his step father, it was that he saw

    himself and his brother part of a greater whole. Samuel wanted to be in Gardners

    world, and their step father didnt fit in.

    Of course, when his step father died of a massive coronary last week, he immediately

    contacted his brother. The method still intrigued him. He wrote a brief note on a piece

    of ancient parchment, rolled it up and then rang a bell. Before long, an owl, a real,

    honest to goodness owl, had landed on his ledge and he placed the message in the

    container affixed to the owls leg. Soon, the owl returned with Gardners return

    itinerary. When Samuel saw it, his eyebrows raised. First, why wasnt his brother

    whooshing back like hed learned to do from old Rookwood? Secondly, the ticket

    showed a return flight originating in Phoenix Arizona. What his brother doing in the

    United States? Despite the questions nagging him, Samuel felt a warm sense ofsteadiness as his older sibling waved in greeting. The two brothers embraced and

    Samuel smiled.

    You really should be careful about that. You know how they frown on passengers with

    such a small amount of luggage on international flights. Samuel pointed to the small,

    worn leather satchel over his brothers shoulder. Im surprised customs didnt give you

    more of a once over.

    Gardner grinned slyly and shrugged his shoulders. I knew it wasnt going to be a

    problem.

    Whys that? Samuel asked.

    Lets just say that muggles are so easy to influence.

    Samuel shook his head. Using the Jedi mind trick, are you?

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    The brothers shared a laugh and walked towards the parking garage.

    ***

    They held the funeral a couple of days ago. Samuel said as they sat at the kitchen

    table of their family home.

    Im sorry I missed it. Gardner responded.

    Why didnt you just teleport over here? You didnt have to miss it. Samuels tone

    wasnt accusatory and Gardner didnt take it that way.

    I couldnt take the chance. I have no idea how much the Ministry is tracking things and

    from what Ive read, Potter and his allies are knee deep in running things over there.

    He watched his brother nod.

    I saw that. I also saw they locked up the rest of the Death eaters. It looks like youre

    the last of them. Gardner shrugged.

    I dont know about all that. Death eaters were his followers. He held up his hands to

    the curious expression on Samuels face. Dont get me wrong, I still believe in what the

    Dark Lord sought to bring. I believe in the cause our father fought for, but that era is

    done. Its gone. It should be wiped away from memory, all of it.

    Samuel studied his brothers impassioned face. What happened over there? Where

    have you been all this time?

    Gardner undid the clasp on his jacket and took it off. Slowly, he pulled his worn tee shirt

    off his chest, revealing a heavily tattooed and scarred chest. His skin was bronzed, like a

    piece of leather, but the carnage around his torso made Samuel cringe.

    What the heck happened to you? Surprisingly, Samuel seemed more interested than

    shocked or dismayed.

    Ive been training, learning new forms of the dark arts, planning what I want to do and

    figuring out how to do it. Gardner seemed lost in a trance, his voice monotone. I met

    a shaman who had been cast out from his tribe. Gardner chuckled. Believe it or not,it was an old medicine man named Frank Sinatra who exiled him because he was

    following the dark path. Anyway, this shaman had actually met the Dark Lord, way back

    when he was first turned down for some position at the Hogwarts school. So, basically,

    it was as close as I could get of actually learning from the Dark Lord himself.

    Samuel nodded, still marveling at the destruction on his brothers body. So, what did

    you learn?

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    Lots of things, but basically, I learned one main thing. Gardner said.

    Whats that? Samuel asked.

    I am a very good wizard. Im far above most in ability, probably better than any, if I getexperience.

    Samuel laughed. Always the modest one, arent you? Gardner didnt react. So,

    where will you get this experience? Are you going back to see this shaman again?

    No, I dont think so. Gardner said quietly.

    Why not? You said you learned a lot from this guy. Why not learn more? Samuel

    asked.

    Because hes dead. I killed him. He saw his brothers confusion. He didnt have

    anything more to teach me and I couldnt very well have someone around that knew

    what Id been learning. Besides, it was like a final exam, which by killing him, meant I

    passed.

    This time Samuel was taken aback. His brother had been so casual, so nonchalant about

    taking someones life. He felt numb with a slight edge of fear creeping in. Gardner took

    a sip of his drink and continued as if he hadnt confessed to murder.

    So, youre finished university. Samuel nodded. Good, because I think you should

    consider going to a good business school. Itll come in handy for what Iwant to do.

    They continued talking through the night.

    ***Present Day***

    Richard and James peered down the hall. The older boy doused the light at the end of

    his wand and watched down the passage as tendrils of flame heated the rock walls to a

    bright red sheen. The creature rounded the hairpin turn, its eyes glancing back and

    forth for some sign of them. It had four legs, its muscles bursting from beneath a thick

    coat of reddish brown fur. It had powerful forelegs, much like a bulldog, with the faceof a bear. Even on all fours, it was tall, almost eight feet tall and it growled imposingly,

    streaks of flame dripping from its teeth.

    As it made its way down the tunnel, Richard looked about the room they were in, trying

    to find a way out. James peered meekly down the hallway, his eyes wide. There had

    been four of them, large bears that came in the lake front entrance of the cavern. The

    Marauders had been keeping vigil for most of the night. Hagrid had gone home to his

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    hut with a warning for them to keep out of trouble. Most of them had fallen asleep, but

    James was too wound up to sleep and Richard had been too afraid of dust mites to lay

    down on the cavern floor. They had been at the entrance of one of the many side

    tunnels to the cavern when the deafening growling took them by surprise. Richard had

    been quick on the draw, sending a spell towards the intruders while James screamed

    out to the others. The creatures moved with amazing speed. The spell simply bouncedoff the animals thick hide, making it mad. In return, the first spout of flame from one of

    the bears almost singed the hair off James if Richard hadnt pulled him by the robe and

    flung him down the side tunnel. Together, they ran as fast as their legs could take them,

    hoping the passage led somewhere. Unfortunately, it led to a dead end.

    Its almost here Richard! James shouted, but Richard was busily studying a place on

    the far wall that seemed damp. James grunted and aimed his wand at the top of the

    tunnel.

    Redacto! There was a blinding flash and the roof came down in a sea of rubble and

    stone. James turned to Richard. That wont hold him much longer.

    Richard turned and nodded. Can you swim?

    James stared at the wall and back at Richard. Oh no, you wouldnt, I mean we dont

    even know how far we have to go

    Richard cut him off. Look its either that, or you become bear flamb. James nodded

    and started taking in deep breaths. The debris pile in the tunnel was already turning

    bright red. Richard aimed his wand at the seam where the wall met the ceiling. His

    blast charm brought a torrent of frothy, cold water from the Great Lake into the cavern.

    James felt the immediate chill from the water and lost sight of Richard in the darkness of

    the murky depths. He pulled his arms to his side, swimming upward, following the

    bubbles from the explosion. He reached upward, and upward, not seeing a sign of the

    surface. His eyes were growing darker, his need to breath more frantic. There was no

    sign of Richard and no way of knowing if he was close. He pulled for all his might until

    he finally broke the surface of the lake. He gasped for air and then shook with fright as

    the water broke near him, but it was only Richard. The pair swam to the shore and

    collapsed on the dewy grass of the front lawn.

    Do you think it followed us? James huffed.

    I dont know.

    James looked back at the water. Do you think the others made it?

    Richard looked at him heavily. I dont know.

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    ***

    Out of habit, Ron and Harry rose early, just before dawn and scuffled out to aft deck.

    Normally, theyd get a good magical workout in, but given that they were around

    muggles, they kept things to a standard set of pushups and sit ups. They finished, flushwith the exertion and sat at one of the tables as a porter brought them fresh squeezed

    orange juice. The sun was just cresting the far horizon and Ron smiled.

    This is fun, eh Harry? Ron reached for a pastry on the center of the table. Harry just

    nodded. Ron continued with a mouthful ofsweets. Of course, I have no idea where

    were going. It isnt even a desert out there. His hand swept the bank of the Nile.

    There was lush vegetation and tall trees.

    Harry smiled. Were going to the upper Nile, in the jungle. Its more a safari than a

    caravan excursion.

    Oh. At that moment, Hermione and Ginny walked up. Ron stood up and grunted at

    Hermione. Me Tarzan, you Jane.

    Hermione rolled her eyes. You gorilla and me need coffee.

    The friends sat together. Poirot and Race joined them on deck and took a table near by.

    Harry was about to greet them when a loud, piercing scream echoed through the boat.

    By instinct, Harry and Ron leapt up and ran to the source of the sound. They shuffled to

    the door of one of the cabins. The interior was a wreck. The dressers were cast about

    and clothing lay all over. A maid stood near the door and Harry and Ron had edge heraside to move in.

    On the floor, near one of the vanities, Linnett Ridgeway Doyle lay motionless, her eyes

    staring blankly at no one. Her skin was pale, but there was no obvious sign of injury.

    Their attention was drawn by a low groan. Simon Doyle crawled from the far side of the

    bed, his head bloody and dragging an obviously broken leg. The sight of his wife caused

    him to go into a frenzy of screaming. Harry held him back from throwing himself on the

    body.

    Yawar Shah entered the cabin and the pointed to one of the porters. Clear this roomand get the captain. Mrs. Doyle has been murdered.

    Harry and Ron pushed out of the room. They passed Poirot and Race in the corridor and

    continued walking. When they were out of ear shot, Ron leaned in. You know how she

    died, dont you Harry?

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    Harry nodded. That was a killing curse. He looked up and down the passageway.

    Theres another wizard on this boat and they have committed murder.

    Chapter 338 Old Enemies

    ***Ten Years after the Battle of Hogwarts

    Gardner felt uncomfortable in the muggle suit, nevertheless, he accepted the need for it

    in order to keep up appearances. His research and preparation was going well and he

    was especially proud of what Samuel had been able to accomplish in such a short

    amount of time. Gardner walked into the lobby of the large office building and walked

    past the guard station with relative ease. With typical efficiency, Samuel had prepared

    the guards for his arrival. He walked past the main bank of lifts and walked around the

    corner of the granite-encased corridor and approached a non-descript elevator located

    at the end. The doors slid open as he approached and spindly old man replete in a

    doormans uniform stood at the button panel within.

    The panel only had two buttons, one labeled L for lobby and the other labeled P,

    which Gardner assumed stood for penthouse, his destination. The operator didnt look

    at him, merely depressing the P button and then grabbing onto a nearby handle.

    Before Gardner could fully comprehend his actions, the lift shot upward, nearly

    knocking him down just before he gripped a handle of his own. The building was over

    eighty stories high, overlooking the heart of Londons historical district. It was a

    testament to the power of the company that the building could even be erected in this

    location. With a couple of minutes, he felt the acceleration diminish and eventually the

    lift came to a halt. The doors slid open and Gardner stepped out of the lift without a

    look to the operator.

    Like the lobby below, the reception area of the penthouse was vastly ornate, gilded in

    gold and ivory and trimmed with fine Italian marble. There was a large reception desk

    trimmed in mahogany in the center of the room with a remarkably beautiful woman

    sitting behind it. She smiled at him and despite his aloofness, he felt the pull of

    attraction towards her beauty, which, in retrospect, had been the intent after all.

    Please, go right in, Mr. Fox, hes expecting you. The lyrical quality of her voice

    matched her external beauty. Afraid of making a fool of himself, he simply nodded and

    walked through a pair of large double doors that led into a rather large office with asweeping view of the city below. The doors closed behind him and he chuckled to

    himself.

    Whats so funny? Gardner turned and found his brother ensconced behind a large

    desk. Like Gardner, Samuel wore a suit, but his jacket was hanging on a hooked rack

    behind the desk. The shirt sleeves of Samuels custom tailored shirt were rolled up and

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    he was busily keying on a laptop that sat next to a bank of computer and television

    monitors arrayed on his desk.

    Look at you, my little brother, now the big CEO. Gardner plopped himself down in a

    chair across from Samuels desk. He crossed his legs and spread his arms outward.

    Whod have thought we could get this far, so soon?

    Samuel shrugged. It doesnt seem easy. This is a lot of work.

    Youre not quitting on me, are you?

    Samuel picked up a paperclip and threw at his brother, playfully. You know better than

    that.

    Gardner studied his brothers face and then exhaled. So, where are we? Whats our

    status?

    Samuel leaned back in his comfortable chair and scratched his head. Well, when Simon

    Clark disappeared, his company was in considerable disarray. Taking over Clark

    Industries was easy enough, but running it has been difficult. Clark put a lot funds into

    his crusade.

    Gardner nodded. Taking over the Clark Industries had been his brothers brainchild,

    especially after Clarks attempt to kidnap Harry Potter had gone awry. Still, the overall

    plan required the power and the funds that the company provided, not to mention the

    hidden cadre of muggles who knew how to handle wizards.

    Whats next, little brother?

    Samuel stood and stared out the window. Well, we certainly cant act as Clark

    Industries. Potter would immediately be suspicious. We need to mask this company

    and what were doing.

    What would you recommend? Gardner knew his brother wouldnt bring something

    up if he didnt have a solution.

    Well, we merge with another company and adopt its name. Samuel could see thatGardner knew he had one in mind. Yes, I do have someone in mind and I have a plan

    on how to remain completely hidden from sight.

    Really? I thought I was the wizard of the family. Gardner chuckled. How do you

    propose to do that?

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    This time Samuel grinned widely. Funny you should use the word propose, since this

    whole idea involves a wedding. It was rare that Samuel surprised his brother. He

    reveled in the small victory and nodded his head. Thats right, Im getting married.

    ***Present day

    James and Richard pulled themselves to their feet and shook off beads of water from

    their excursion into the coldness of the Great Lake. Full darkness had descended upon

    the castle and the twinkling of stars in the sky made the scene deceptively idyllic. After

    a moment, the spot in the lake theyd just exited began to eddy and swirl, with frothy

    bubbles slowly effervescing to the surface. James stared wide eyed at the surface as the

    lake, barely feeling Richards grip on his sleeve.

    Weve got to go. Richard mumbled, dragging James behind him. Weve got to go

    now. James turned and ran with Richard just as the billowy head of the creature that

    had pursued them in the tunnel broke the surface of the lake, its growls echoing in the

    night. James fell in beside Richard, the two running at full speed towards the beckoning

    castle gates.

    James risked a quick look back and was rewarded with the startling vision of the bear

    barreling down at full speed on them. It had already closed the distance and was

    gaining. Spurred on by the specter of the rapidly approaching creature, James felt

    himself quickening his pace. The gates of the school seemed frighteningly far away and

    after careful consideration, James came to an ominous realization.

    Were not going to make it. He shouted.

    Richard kept running. We have to try. Come on!

    James was right. The two students could feel the air growing hotter as the creature

    breathed fire in their direction. Richard contemplated turning and fighting, but realized

    the futility of such an act. Despite the dire consequences, he reached back for James

    sleeve and dragged the boy along with him. It was inevitable that the breakneck pace

    would fall victim to a mishap. James foot caught on a tuft of lawn bringing both boys

    down in a crashing heap and ending any hope that theyd make the safety of the castle.

    The creature roared in triumph behind them.

    ***

    The Cleopatra rode at anchor along a steep part of the Nile riverbank. Dark splotches of

    red and brown from the heavily silted waters stained its otherwise pristine white hull.

    The water was calm, not giving any hint of the panicked turmoil on board. The open

    veranda was full to capacity, with both passengers and crew crammed into the open

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    space. At the center of them all, stood Hercule Poirot, twirling his waxed mustache as

    he studied the crowd once more.

    Ladies and Gentlemen, the captain, Poirot nodded towards a portly man seated on a

    settee next to a standing Yawar Shah. The captain has asked me to conduct an

    investigation into the murder of the late Mrs. Doyle.

    Wait a minute, Poirot, how do you know it was murder? A tall man in an ill fitting

    seersucker suit grumbled.

    Monsieur Grant, is it? You were Madame Doyles chief of staff,yes? The man stared

    at Poirot in surprise and nodded his head.

    Well, yes. What I was saying is how do you know it was murder? There wasnt a

    scratch on her. How do you know she didnt just keel over from a sudden heart attack.

    Grant sat back and studied Poirot triumphantly.

    Poirot merely shrugged and pointed on of his overly fingers at this head. My little gray

    cells tell me that we have a murder. There are things that I will make everyone aware of

    that will confirm my theory. Harry shifteduncomfortably as Poirots black eyes seemed

    to single him out.

    So why wait here? Why not pull into a port and let the authorities handle it?

    Jaqueline de Belleforts voice seemed to shake. It was meek, barely heard.

    Poirot nodded sagely. But of course, that would be a consideration. The captain was

    visibly perspiring at that. Poirot ignored him. That would make it easy for the killer, orkillers to escape into a city before the police can be engaged. Out here, the killer has no

    where to go.

    Why not simply jump over the side? Ron asked blithely.

    This time, it was Colonel Race who cleared his throat. He walked over to a snack table

    and picked up a sizeable piece of roast beef and tossed it over the rail, into the Nile.

    There was flurry of gnashing teeth and growling. The passengers peered over the side

    and saw hundreds of crocodiles floating in the water, like so many logs.

    Ron cringed and then nodded. Race turned and bowed towards Poirot. The diminutive

    Belgian cleared his throat.

    Now, let me address Monsieur Grants objection. Again, Poirots eyes seemed to

    linger on the Potters and Weasleys. In order to understand why Madame Doyles

    death was murder, I must ask you to forget what you think you know about the world as

    you know it. Poirot reached into his inside pocket and drew a large ruby from his

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    breast pocket. He raised it above his head, the sun above catching the facets and

    sending an eerie red glow around the room. With a sudden quick movement, he threw

    the ruby onto the ground. Amazingly, it shattered into thousands of pieces. The room

    was bathed in a mixture of warm red light and crimson smoke.

    As the tendrils of smoke touched him, Harry felt his throat constrict. He tried to movehis hands to his neck, but his body was locked still, paralyzed. The smoke drew tears

    from his eyes. In a panic, he caught sight of Ginny in his peripheral vision. She seemed

    to be similarly handicapped by the smoke. Harry turned his eyes towards Poirot.

    The detective seemed to be genuinely contrite and sad. He shook his head from side to

    side in sorrow.

    I am sorry. Truly, I am sorry. Poirot walked over and checked Ron, Harry, Ginny and

    Hermione one at a time. This is necessary, Im afraid.

    The diminutive man snapped his fingers and several sailors walked up and picked up the

    frozen quartet and carried them down to an empty cabin with a large oaken door. The

    door had a small, barred window in the center. Poirot looked inside and shook his head.

    The paralysis will subside in an hour or so, but make no mistake, you are all my

    prisoners, and you will answer for your crimes.