Snake Boy

19 - End Game

Dumbledore tapped his fingertips on the wooden desktop in a rapid staccato of aggravation. The map before him should have caught fire from the intensity of his glare.

"Where is he?" he muttered to himself. He had always known, or always thought he had known roughly where Voldemort based his operations, but a disastrous and highly embarrassing raid earlier this week had disabused him of that notion

Albus Dumbledore was currently a laughing stock. Between the Quibbler articles and 'Howlers for Hogwarts', he was no longer the untouchable paragon of the Wizarding Community. Combined with the raid...

At dawn two weeks ago, he and a large portion of the Order of the Phoenix along with a large group of Aurors had attacked what they had thought was the Dark Lord's manor. Many curses had been thrown, even a few Unforgiveables before they realized their error. They had attacked a private school for pureblood squibs and one of the children had been killed.

On top of all that, the child killed was a not so distant relative of one Ms. Amelia Bones, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement – who had not been made aware of the raid. To say she was enraged over the incident was a definite understatement. All of the Aurors who had participated were up on charges from Dereliction of Duty up to Treason in the cases of the senior Aurors.

Dumbledore hadn't even known such a school had existed. In his day squibs were quietly smothered in their beds once their state became apparent, not educated and allowed to spread their damaged blood.

There was only one thing that could salvage his reputation at this point – Harry Potter. Albus had heard a whisper of a rumor, a rumor that said the Dark Lord had the boy. Potter could save the Headmaster or destroy him, and to regain the respect he'd lost, Albus had to bloody well find the brat!

His fist crashed down onto the desk top.

Where?

Wait...the old Wizard squinted at the map where a drop of angry sweat had smudged the ink. Why did the name of that particular village ring a bell in the back of his brain?

Steepleing his fingers he thought, forehead crinkled in concentration until suddenly a beatific smile emerged and the twinkling he was so famous for returned to his eyes.

The village where Tom Riddle grew up. Could that madman have returned to the orphanage he had so hated? He'd thought Tom had burned that place to the ground but the Headmaster had never actually gone and seen for sure.

Perhaps he and a few of the loyal Aurors he had left would go and check...

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Harry woke from his nap with a start. At eight months pregnant he swore all he did was eat, sleep and pee – and he was going to hex whoever that was gallivanting up and down the halls.

Turning his head to the open door of his Tea Room he watched his mother slither into the doorway.

"That dratted man woke you, I'm sorry My Harry. Sirius is trying to play some kind of 'tag' game with My Severus, whatever that is, and now their running all over the nest. Worse than two year old hatchlings, they are!"

Harry watched as Severus stalked past the doorway with a rather interesting smirk across his face.

Celeste sighed.

"I am going to hunt, My Harry. If I know that look, and believe me I do, Severus is going to be shagging your Godfather into the floor shortly."

The Syren slithered off, leaving Harry quietly laughing at his dignified parent using the word 'shagging'.

Casting a Tempus spell, which was pretty much the limit of his spell casting ability so close to the end of his pregnancy, he decided to stay right where he was for a bit longer. Tom was due back in another half hour or so and Harry chose to doze and take his evening walk later with his mate.

The loss of his magic bothered the young Wizard quite a bit, especially since he had just gotten started using it, but Poppy insisted it was normal. The levitation spell he'd demonstrated for Oma three months ago was a very weak spell, but it was as far as he'd been able to go in his training and that same spell was now beyond his limited capabilities. The Medi-Witch assured him his powers would return after the birth and that it was a perfectly normal side affect of a male pregnancy.

Harry snuggled further into the cushions. It was now August, but thanks to a pendant with a permanent cooling charm Tom had given him, he was not bothered by the heat at all. He smiled sleepily. Tom's gift reminded him of his recently celebrated seventeenth birthday, the first he'd ever celebrated. The 'Dark Lord' and his 'Death Eaters' had nearly drowned the young Wizard in gifts; from the toys he'd never had growing up, to rare parseltongue tombs. He'd been shocked at first, but had then accepted their generosity with a hissing aplomb that had both surprised and pleased his mate.

His mate.

Harry frowned. He wished his mate would hurry up and bring his decidedly sexy self back home so they could go on Harry's mandatory evening constitutional and then go straight back to bed.

In truth, the Tea Room was the only room in the manor still fully furnished. They were moving and this would be the last night they would spend here. Apparently Dumbledore was actually looking for them, something he'd never done before, and while the Manor was hidden under layer upon layer of spells Tom was worried his old teacher would find them.

That's where Tom and most of the Death Eater were now, finishing the wards at their new home while the house elves popped back and forth with furniture and overflowing crates.

Oma had secluded herself at Malfoy Manor. His mother said that his sister was in the 'nesting stage' that came right before birthing.

Harry slowly opened bleary eyes when he heard someone approaching. There was no way Severus and Sirius were done playing, he could smell that it wasn't someone he knew and the lower level Death Eaters weren't allowed in this wing...

A tall old Wizard filled the doorway, wand in hand. He was wearing midnight blue robes with animated shooting stars moving across the material. A long white beard fell from chin to knees and his blue eyes were twinkling like mad.

"Harry..." he said, approaching slowly.

The younger Wizard had to force himself to stay still. This was Dumbledore. Dumbledore was in his home. Dumbledore was in his home where Harry could not do magic and where there was only a skeleton crew of Death Eaters on guard.

Somehow the Wizard had gotten into the mansion without setting off the wards. Harry had no way to alert anyone to the danger they were all now in.

The young brunette narrowed his eyes as Dumbledore moved closer. Blue eyes clashed with Green and there was a buzzing in Harry's head. His mind was flooded with images of his childhood – scenes with his Syren family, the attempted kidnapping, and his abandonment by the Dursley's.

Dumbledore was talking to him as he slowly moved closer but Harry could not concentrate enough to puzzle out the words.

Images of Tom, Sev and Sirius now filled his mind. It was like someone was sifting through his mind, looking for something – Dumbledore! Tom had warned him about this, Dumbledore was a natural Legilimens. The bearded Wizard dug around in people's heads and found the best way to manipulate them.

There was a faint shout from outside the manor and Harry felt the ripple of the wards. He sighed mentally in relief, Tom and the others would now know there was trouble and would come back immediately.

Dumbledore growled in frustration before lunging forward and grabbing Harry by the arm. Jerking the young Wizard upright, he released him again just as quickly with a hiss of shock.

Harry followed the other's gaze downward. The brunette wrapped his arms around his belly, realizing that Dumbledore's disgust filled glare was aimed there.

The old Wizard seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts had trapped him and again reached for Harry.

Harry, having no other weapons at hand reared back and bit.