The Angels Saga: Angels of Love: The Lucy Potter Septet

 ‘Lucy Potter and the Golden Sovereigns’

(Lucy Potter Book Three)

(NOTE:  J K Rowling has authorized fanfiction of Harry Potter.)

by Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

© 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010

Prologue

 David Potter looked at the vortex before him.  He had spent much of the past few years travelling throughout the shadow realm, drinking water from dank creeks and eating grass and the occasional leafy tree.  Fruit was rare and prized highly.  He’d even eaten his dead centaur friend when it had died from starvation, managing to find some deadwood and flint and lighting a fire to cook him.  But, as ever now, he was hungry.

Strangely enough, there was a sense of night and day in the shadow realm – almost a distant reflection of his home of earth.  A distant, pale reflection.  The shadow world was, in every sense, a shadow of the greater reality.  It was lesser, paler, dimmer and greyer.  Life had a surreal quality to it and it was if he didn’t exist in some way.  But every night, facing the cold turf for his sleeping partner, he knew he did exist.  And he knew he had to find a way out.

And then, last night, he had found the vortex - a two-storied building full of doors with apparent mirrors on them and strange knobs next to each door.  He had called it a vortex because he believed, somehow, the doors would transport you somewere if you could just use the knobs somehow.  And he had now spent all day trying to use the various doors, still to no avail.  Regardless, he would persevere, as he now had somewere useful to sleep and potentially wait for another lost soul to find him.

For David Potter life went on in the Shadow Realm and, with one last thought of his daughter Lucy, he returned to the knob he had been spinning.

Chapter One

Lucy ran.  She ran and ran and ran.  But no matter how fast she ran she couldn’t escape the creature’s clutches.  Deatheaters – all around her.  Taunting her, mocking her, deriding her.  And then, as they pushed and harassed her towards the place they wanted, her standing in a clearing, the death eaters slithered back into the shadowy trees.  She stood, in the middle of a grim, dark and haunting forest.  She peered over her back cautiously, sensing that while the Deatheaters had disappeared into the shadows, they were still there, silently watching her, studying her every move.  She turned frontwards.  There before her, seemingly having come out of the mist, stood a tabernacle.  A grey, marble tabernacle, with what looked like fresh blood dripping from it.  And then, the stench suddenly hitting her nose, she looked over to the side of the tabernacle and saw lifeless corpses, ones which had breathed their last breaths, all offered in a sacrifice to darkness and evil.  And right then, a figure appeared.  A figure appeared behind the tabernacle, and it looked at her and uttered fowl words.  ‘Lucy,’ it said, with the vilest of voices, yet with an allure of darkness and temptation which only the most evil of tempting spirits could summon.  ‘Lucy,’ it repeated again.  ‘Come to your new master.  For he beckons you.’  Just then Grimlock appeared next to the man, and spoke.  ‘She cannot yet come, master Voldemort.  While she is the final blood sacrifice to renew you to life completely again, she is bound to our lord and master Darvanius until the final day of dark prophecy.  Until that day comes and passes you simply may not slay her.  Her death will not help you, as the contract with the higher powers will be deemed null and void and the angels will have all the say then.’  Voldemort looked despisingly at the cretinous Grimlock, yet seemingly acknowledged the point.  The lord of evil turned to Lucy Potter, smiled the sickest of smiles possible at her, and spoke final words.  ‘Your cousin destroyed me Lucy.  He destroyed my precious Horcruxes and vanquished me with the simplest of spells that day at Hogwarts.  But his fate awaits, Lucy Potter.  And one day we will meet again.  We will meet again and I will have my wicked pleasure with you, as I had with your father David.  On that you can count assured.  Now begone.’  As if in response to those words, the Deatheaters emerged from there hiding places, taunted Lucy yet again, and drove her back through the darkened forest.

Again she ran.  She ran and ran and ran.  And then, coming to a cliff, she turned to look as the Deatheaters approached.  And then, her foot stumbling on the ledge, she fell, and racing to meet her doom, put up her hands to her face and then, just as suddenly……

….Lucy awoke, screaming.  Yelling and crying, which brought Shelandragh from the next room racing in.  She looked at Lucy alarmed.  Lucy was drenched with sweat, soaking in her nightgowns and trembling.  Shelandragh came over to her and cradled her in her arms, rocking her to calm her down.  And then Lucy began relating the dream, Shelandragh listening intently.

Later on, Lucy sitting with a blanket wrapped around her, having just showered, Shelandragh handed her a hot cup of tea.  It was early in Bunyan, just after 5, and the chill of winter departing was still in the air, but the beckoning of spring seemed to bring a gladdening note to the early cockerel’s crows.  Lucy seemed to have recovered somewhat from her nightmare and, while Shelandragh was indeed watching her closely, it was from the corner of her eye to try and not bring attention to the dream.  Eventually Lucy, finishing off her tea, put off the blanket and stood up.  ‘I am going to have to deal with things like this now, aren’t I Shelandragh.  After Lucifer my life will never really be the same again, will it?’  Shelandragh looked consolingly at her young protégé.  ‘Heaven’s above Lucy.  You really do know how to ask difficult questions.’  But, despite her own nervousness, Shelandragh softened.  She came and stood next to Lucy, wrapped her arms around and her, and spoke.  ‘Life never will be the same again, Lucy.  Never again.  We are, it seems, in a war.  A dreadful and terrible war with evil.  Alfric spoke to me last week.  He spoke to me about events in England at Hogwarts.  I know you saw Harry up at Zeraxxus but he really told you very little of what he has been dealing with, from what you told me.  Harry was chosen from his youth, dear Lucy.  And in a strange way, so were you.  Both of you are special children – children of destiny.  For you see, heaven and hell have an ancient agreement.  As ancient as the sands of time.  And I think it is time for you to be taught it, as it was once taught me by a most special angel.  In the beginning, long ago, the eternal creator created a home for himself.  And funnily enough that place was called that very thing.  ‘Home.’  In ‘Home’ God brought to be his firstborn son, the Angelic being with many names, mainly known as ‘Metatron.’  After Metatron came the two words – ‘Logos’ and ‘Memra’ – male and female.  Everything was pleasant at home for a long time, but they grew lonely, anxious to be with more people.  And so God created a new realm.  A brand new realm for them to watch over.  And that realm was called ‘Heaven.’  In heaven there were 70 children – 35 males and 35 females.  Each of them was special and beloved of God.  Now one day in heaven God gave each of the children of heaven a list.  A list with 70 particular roles.  70 most important and particular roles.  Each of the children of heaven was to pick one of the roles and, from that point onwards, their destiny would beckon.  There were many important roles, such as the Dreamlord, the author, which the firstborn ‘Adam’ chose, and of course, ‘Destiny’ herself.  The role of Destiny was chosen by Adam’s twin sister, ‘Eve’.  It is ‘Destiny’ which leads us onwards to the final day of glory in which all the realms of existence will unite.  And it is our destiny which, ultimately, we must follow.  However, to thwart the children of destiny one particular role was given power.  Great and terrible power.  The power of the role of ‘The Devil’.  One particular child of heaven, ‘Samael’, chose this role for himself.  And in that role he had great delight.  But, as became apparent after everyone had chosen their role, and Samael had begun his devilish work, harmony had ceased in heaven and chaos had begun.  There was ongoing tension between the Devil and the other children of heaven, with many hearts broken by his fowl deeds.  And when the announcement came that the new realm of the first Angels was to come to be, the Realm of Infinity, and that Samael would be permitted to wreak havoc over them as well, the children of God decided on a contract with Samael.  A most definite and particular contract.  And that contract involved one of the children of heaven in particular.  One most familiar and important of all of God’s children in her own particular way.’  ‘Who was that child?’ asked Lucy, anxiously.  Shelandragh continued.  ‘The contract was this:  If this particular child, in her day of destiny with one of the particular angels of the realm which would be known as the ‘Realm of Eternity’ one particular angel called ‘Saruviel’ – if this child in her day of destiny with the dread Saruviel made one key decision – one phenomenally and most important key decision, the contract gave the power to the children of heaven and Samael would have to repent of his wickedness and atone for all his sins.’  ‘And if not successful,’ asked Lucy.  ‘Then the 70 children of Heaven would give themselves up to the service of Samael for One Billion years.  A billion years in which he could wreak as much havoc and chaos as he liked, the children voluntarily serving him.’  Lucy looked alarmed.  All of this was just a bit too much to take in for a fourteen year old.  ‘Who was the child of heaven, Shelandragh?’  Shelandragh steadied herself.  ‘It was the last of them all, dear young Lucy.  The 70^th.  A female.  A female who had chosen a role very familiar to both you and I.  The role of the ‘Witch.’  Lucy shuddered.  She instantly felt compassion and alarm for the child of heaven who had been chosen for such a daunting destiny.  And then she noticed Shelandragh looking at her, almost wanting to say something more, but instantly thinking better of it.  ‘Not now,’ Shelandragh told herself.  ‘Not now, is still to young.’  And so she kept silent about the identity of that child of heaven.  The very identity of the 70^th of the children of Heaven.’

*   *   *   *   *

‘That was very brave of you Ron.  Well done.’  Ron nodded, happy at Luna’s comment.  While he was far from home, stuck in China with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, Ron was pleased as well.  His services had been paid for handsomely by the Chinese village, now satisfied they would have no more problems with a particular dragon that had been, occasionally, eating one of the female villagers as dragons were wont to do.  When an ambassador from the village had left China, travelling the long journey by train to England, seeking the talents of the famous friend of Harry Potters, the illustrious Ron Weasley, who had become famous in the village for his quidditch skills, which the local village witch showed on videotape to a number of the villagers it had been deemed that Ron had the agility necessary to rid them of the malevolent dragon.  Ron, when contacted by a cousin of ‘Cho’s’ who lived in China, had decided that he needed help and, with the ample funds given to him by the village, had asked Hermione and Luna to accompany him and help him when and were they could.

Ron had just dismounted his broomstick, having cast a number of spells on the dragon that had just appeared that morning over the village, with Luna and Hermione guarding the village at the gates at each end, doing their best to protect the villagers.  Cho’s cousin, Tan, had also helped out and with the three of them guarding the village, Ron had taken to the skies.  All of his Quidditch skills had been put to the test and then, suddenly, the dragon was in front of him, letting out a flame of fire.  It had spoken to his mind, in the way telepathic dragons had an ability to, and somehow Ron had understood.  It had called him a puny human, threatening to kill him if he didn’t move out of the way, but Ron had bravely stood his ground.  The dragon had made various darts and lunges trying to avoid the Weasely boy and attack the village, but Ron had always risen up in front of the dragon’s face.  And then he had cast the spell ‘Hydros Conflagius’ as soon as the dragon breathed out fire again, and a huge torrent of water emerged from his wand and extinguished the dragons breath.  When it tried breathing fire again, all that came out was a wheezing welching sound.  Sensing defeat, the dragon had departed, and Ron had emerged triumphant.

‘But what are we going to do now, Ron,’ asked Luna earnestly.  ‘Surely the dragon will come back tomorrow or later in the week.  It must be still hungry.’  They had already discussed this issue and Ron, with the approval of the villagers, had decided that the only way to rid themselves of the menace would be to tame the dragon somehow, as they really did not want to kill it.  Hermione approached and spoke.  ‘Ron, we have to follow it back to its nest.  And then we have to try the spell we have been planning.  Once that fire is no longer a threat the dragon can use, Tan and the other villagers will be able to defend the village against its threat.  ‘Expeliarmus Magmas’ it is then,’ said Ron, ready to put the new spell into action.

The dragon was in the distance, flying back to the mountain range, and the two witches and one wizard mounted their broomsticks and began chase.  Luna shouted, ‘Don’t get too close.  Don’t let it see us.  We want to see were its cave is and then enter by stealth.  If it knows we are following, it may lead us on a merry chase.’  Ron nodded at Luna’s sensible words.  Neville Longbottom was left in the village, in his bed were he had come down with boils on his skin.  He was in no position to help them, but silently Ron wished Neville was with them, as it would have made their job easier.

The dragon flew on ahead and as best as the trio could fathom never once looked behind.  It flew over the lush landscape, climbing slowly and gradually as the mountain ranges below escalated into the summits of China’s mountainous glory.  Soon, though, it dove down and the three of them spied it entering a small chasm, disappearing out of sight.

Ron signalled for them to descend and shortly they landed at the entrance of the chasm, dismounting their broomsticks.

‘What would Harry do,’ Ron thought to himself.  ‘Now don’t go asking what Harry would do,’ said Hermione.  ‘It is up to us.’  ‘What are you, a mindreader?’ asked Ron, which made Hermione give him a funny look.

The three of them slowly, carefully, and anxiously, hearts racing, entered the cave, treading down carefully into the dragon’s lair.  All along the entrance were human bones scattered here and there, some with rotting flesh on them.  ‘Ooh,’ said Luna, pinching her nose at the stench, but the others ignored it.  They came to a corner, and Ron looked nervous.  ‘Go ahead,’ whispered Hermione.  Luna nodded, encouraging him.  Carefully, heart beating, Ron peered around the corner.  There was the dragon, back turned to him, sitting on its nest, now at rest.  Ron turned to his compatriots.  ‘Its back is turned to us.’  Hermione nodded and motioned with her wand for him to proceed.  It was now or never Ron thought to himself.  The three of them came around the corner, carefully, silently, and then stood a number of yards in front of the dragon’s back.  Just then Ron stood on a bone which rattled and the Dragon veered around to face them.  It stood back on its legs, opened its mouth and tried to breathe flame, but just wheezed again, much to the trio’s relief.  Ron looked at Luna and Hermione.  ‘Ready?  Wait for it to try and breathe flame again.’

The dragon stared at them, and rose up on its back feet.  Again it opened its mouth to try and breath flames when the three of them pointed their wands and said together, ‘Expeliarmus Magmas’.  Jolts of icy electricity came forth from each of their wands, and struck the Dragon in its mouth.  The dragon recoiled, coughed and spluttered somewhat, and tried again to breathe flames at them.  But this time there was not even a spark.  ‘I think it has worked,’ said Hermione.  ‘Now lets get the hell out of here,’ yelled Ron.

As quickly as they had entered, the three left the cave, the dragon still spluttering and wheezing, and once outside the cave, took to their broomsticks and returned to the village.

Later on, the council reached a conclusion.  It appeared the spell had probably worked, from what Ron, Luna and Hermione had said, so they decided that unless the dragon breathed fire on them again, the three of them were now fulfilled in their obligations and payment had been settled.  If the problem rose again, though, they would have to return and try something else.

That night, Neville still wincing over his boils, but relieved that two of them had now burst, joined them as they arrived at the train station of the village to take the long journey back across Asia to France and then home to England.  Cho’s cousin Tan had thanked them tirelessly, and as Ron sat in his coach, the countryside passing them by, he reflected on one of his first major job’s since graduating from Hogwarts.  The life of a wizard, it would seem, would have its fill of adventure, certainly something to often write home about.  He looked over at Hermione who was casually chatting with Luna.  She noticed his look, smiled a little, and turned back to Luna.  And as Ron contemplated life as a maturing wizard, the night passed by, a dragon many miles behind them still wheezing and spluttering.

Chapter Two

Harry Potter trod the well worn staircase and knocked on the doorway.  He had travelled a long way from his current home, but was anxious to discuss an issue.  An issue which had caused Dumbledore some concern, an issue which Harry had felt aware of but out of his love for Dumbledore had not wished to say anything.  Harry knocked on the door, and Dumbledore’s voice hailed him to enter.  Harry entered and found Dumbledore sitting near the fireplace of the ancient office, just putting down a tome of magic.  ‘Harry,’ said Dumbledore softly.  ‘Harry.  Come in, sit.  Sit.’  Harry nodded at his teacher and looking around the familiar room, noting the phoenix happily snoozing, sat down opposite Dumbledore.  ‘Well, Harry Potter.  You are looking well.’  ‘Thanks, sir,’ responded Harry.  ‘And you too.  You never really change Dumbledore.  You never really change.’  ‘Oh, I change Harry.  All of us change, over the years.  You know how it is.  I think dying brought more changes than anything else.  But that was only temporary, as you know.  Now Harry, how are you finding your new life?  And how is Ginny Weasely?  I understand you two are now engaged?’  Harry nodded, unsurprised the news had spread to Hogwarts.  ‘Ginny is well, Albus.  Very well.  We have not set a date for the wedding, but you will be the first to know.’  Dumbledore smiled lovingly at his young protégé, pleased that after the years of testing Harry was coming into himself.  He was becoming a man.  ‘Albus, I know you have invited me here for a reason.  And I think, from what you said in your letter, I already know.  And I just want to say its ok.  I don’t think you need worry yourself about it.’  Dumbledore steadily looked at Harry, a concerned wrinkle had appeared on his forehead and he made as if to speak, but then left off and went silent.  ‘And others, do you think they are aware?’  ‘I would think Mrs McGonagall, after all this time, quite likely knows professor.  I don’t think you would have hidden it from her.’  ‘Probably not,’ said Dumbledore.  ‘And the students?’  ‘Its different now, professor.  Times have changed.  You probably know that better than anyone.  It wasn’t that long ago that they put people like us in prison or dumped us under water to test wether we really were magical folk or not.  But muggledom is growing up – slowly, mind you.  Albeit slowly.  But they are losing their hatred for people who are different to themselves.’  Dumbledore nodded.  Harry’s words spoke wisdom beyond his years.  ‘And you don’t have a problem with it, Harry?’  ‘Don’t get me wrong Professor.  I like girls.  I mean I really like girls.  And while your ways and, well, your love is your own heart, it could not really be for me.  But I respect you Professor.  Everyone does and I don’t really think that what you could say on the issue of your, you know, choices, could really, in the end, offend the wizarding community.  I really don’t think that at all.’  ‘Yes, you are right.  Of course you are right.  It is just I had feared.  For so long I have lived with this, at times thinking myself different.  Oh, I had always known magic set me apart.  But it is a different world, the muggle world.  They are the society out there in the real world which we have never really truly been part of.  And of course, their religion often condemns us for not being part of them.’  Harry nodded, knowingly.  ‘Well the Weasely’s celebrate Christmas, Professor.  And they tell me that in their church which they go to once a year that things have changed a lot.  It is not like it was.  The hatred is gone.  The bigotry of being different is gone.’  ‘But not in all of them, Harry.  Not in all of them.’  ‘No, professor.  No.  I do know what you mean.’  Dumbledore got to his feet, stretched somewhat, and looked quietly relieved.  He had gotten something off of his chest – something which had bothered him for quite some time, and was relieved to find in his young student a heart and friend which bore no condemnation but only love and understanding.  And Albus Dumbledore was silently relieved and pleased because of it.

Later, after they had partaken of a pint each of butter beer, Harry noticed, after he had been talking by himself for some time, staring into the fireplace, that Dumbledore had gone off to sleep.  Quietly, so not as to disturb him, he placed a blanket onto his beloved professor, and wishing him good night, departed.

*   *   *   *   *

Lucy looked at herself in the mirror, noticing that her breasts were now really starting to grow as puberty was progressing.  At fourteen she was something of a young lady and soon, when the holidays were over, she would be back in Melrose High school with her new friends Gemma, Justine and Francine, to face year 9 in her studies.  She had known, recently, that she must have fallen on her fanny and had an accident because from what she knew of female anatomy in her feminine region something had broken, which may have suggested she wasn’t a virgin.  But of course, she was a virgin, wasn’t she.  And she kept telling herself that, that she was a pure and innocent virgin, ready for her first man.  Yet, despite her telling herself this over and over again, something at that back of her mind was nagging her.  Something – an indescribable horror – which had somehow been put out of her mind someway:  an indescribable horror which suggested to her in the back of her nightmares that she wasn’t the purest vessel that she claimed to be.  She ignored the voices, as best she could – but still she worried.  Still she was concerned that, in some way, the title of fair maiden mightn’t belong to her.  But she brushed aside those thoughts as she stared at herself naked, and slowly started dressing.

This summer holidays she was staying with Shelandragh in Bunyan, just north of Cooma and about 90 kilometres south of Canberra, Australia’s capital city.  Shelandragh May was her teacher in the ways of witchery, as she had been for a number of years now.  Shelandragh, after her young lessons from various eccentric Australian witches all over the continent, had grabbed hold of Lucy instantly upon them settling in Chakola, just up the road from Bunyan, and the two of them had quickly formed a strong relationship of trust, respect and love.  So much so that Lucy really did view Shelandragh May as something of a grandmotherly figure, so close had their relationship become.  But, in truth, perhaps that was not that surprising.  The witch and wizarding community in Australia, held together by a strong guild run by the ministry of magic, was close-knit.  They had to be.  To survive in a world which had once persecuted their kind strongly, witches needed to know each other and have safe communities.  Shelandragh once spoke of a place called ‘Daigon Alley’ in London, a refuge for the wizarding community were a whole host of magic related businesses congregated together.  It was cut off, hidden and out of sight from the rest of London, as the community of wizards and witches for so long had been.  But this was necessary, so Shelandragh taught Lucy.  Not everyone in the ‘Muggle’ world was as sensitive to witches as people like the Bridges family of Jayden, Madalene and Georgia and their parents were.  It was still, in some places, hostility which greeted them instead of friendship.  But such was the life of being different, such was the life of being a witch, and so be it Shelandragh had often told her.

‘Lucy, are you finished dressing?  We must get going.  We promised Michael we would be there at 6, and we are always running late.  And you know how he enjoys spending his time with us.’

‘Coming,’ yelled Lucy, just placing on her black shoes.  She came into the living room and Shelandragh looked her over.  ‘My, we do look smart, don’t we?  Could I ask, are we wanting to make a good impression with Mr Bradley?’  Lucy smirked.  ‘Michael Bradley!  Heaven’s above Shelandragh May, what could you possibly be thinking.  Michael Bradley,’ she again said, shaking her head, to which Shelandragh chuckled a little at her young student’s sarcastic sense of humour.

As they drove the short distance into Cooma, Lucy thought on just what Shelandragh had suggested.  And while she loved Michael a great deal, it really was in the same way she loved Jayden – more as a brother.  No, for Lucy, while she could not say why, it was as if there was someone else.  Someone, in a strange way, she was more closely linked to.  Someone she had never met but who, nonetheless, was waiting for her, keeping himself for her, and promised to her alone.  And because of that Lucy Potter entertained no serious thoughts about a relationship with either Jayden Bridges or Michael Bradley.

*   *   *   *   *

‘Enrique, you no good fool.  Get the hell in here now,’ said the ringmaster in his Spanish language.  Enrique Lopes, who had been valiantly trying his best to win the fair maiden Delilah, the flying trapeze partner of the illustrious ‘Giovanni’, reluctantly made his way into the circus tent, clothed in his skin-tight shorts and nothing else.  The ringmaster, master ‘Hercules’, who also performed as the strongman in the show, glared at Enrique, seemingly, as always, with some sort of complaint on his mind.  ‘Enrique.  How many times have I told you to lock up that blasted dragon of yours.  Look at this!,’ he exclaimed, pointing to the large pile of faeces sitting in the middle of the circus ring.  ‘You know what you have to do,’ said Hercules.  ‘So get to it.’

Enrique nodded.  He knew exactly what to do.  First, though, he would have to tether ‘Andropholous’, his pet dragon, instrumental to his act.  Coming out of the tent, he spied Andropholous a few hundred yards away, staring at some horses who were giving him a quizzical look.  He grabbed the dragon’s leash and walked over to his dragon, coming around the front of him to face him.  Andropholous was not a very large dragon.  In fact, even for his particular breed of dragon, which was a smaller breed, Andropholous was perhaps a dwarf.  But what this meant for Enrique who had tamed him that, in the career of the circus which he had found himself caught up in, flying on the back of a dragon as the world famous ‘Terran Dragonrider’ had certain advantages to it.  The dragon was small enough to be able to manage by himself and usually did not frighten people very often.  He breathed small gasps of fire, but they never reached out very far and people gasped in excitement rather than terror at seeing the twosome’s dazzling display.

Tethering Andropholous the dragon, albeit reluctantly, so fascinated had it been by the horses who were still staring at it, followed Enrique back to the stable.  Tethering him in the makeshift stable, Enrique spoke to his beloved dragon.  ‘You know, Andy.  You have to watch yourself.  Herc has been good to us for so long and, while I really don’t think he would get rid of us, he does like to run a tight ship.’  The dragon snorted, almost seemingly acknowledging the point.  ‘Now, I will be back later on to give you some food.  Sleep tight or whatever you do.’  The dragon again snorted and Enrique gave it a little wave, getting back to his job.  Picking up a shovel he placed it in the wheelbarrow and, coming into the tent, started shovelling the faeces.  Hercules came in and looked at the work.  ‘Remember to dump it in the usual recycling bins.  The council here are friendly, fortunately like most, and have agreed to dispose of the animal waste for us.’  ‘They like circuses,’ said Enrique.  ‘It is in their best interests.’  ‘Yes, that is what I always say.  So you don’t need to worry about burying the stuff.  Now get to it.  And remember we have two hours before Showtime.  I know you won’t disappoint – you never do.  You have been good for us, Enrique.’  Enrique nodded, appreciating Herc’s words of encouragement.

Dumping the faeces in the recycling bin, he looked at the carpark.  There were a few people who had already shown up who were looking at the various animals on display.  It would be a good night, it seemed, and the Terran Dragonrider would again be star of the show, right at the climax.  Dumping off the faeces, he returned the wheelbarrow to its place and, whistling a tune, went back to his prior occupation.

*   *   *   *   *

‘Your move Michael.’  Michael, who had been absentmindedly leafing through a magic book, returned his focus to the game of Magical chess going on between himself and Lucy.  The chess game was being played on one of Shelandragh’s ancient chess boards – a magical chess board.  With a simple spell to set up the game pieces, almost ghost like pieces, appeared in the front two rows of either end.  The two of them, by now, with Shelandragh’s instructions, had learned the grid references for the game, and commanded the pieces to make their moves speaking out loud.  In the current game Lucy had the upper hand.  She was one knight up over Michael and looked as if she would win which was why she was anxious for Michael to move.  Shelandragh had begun teaching Lucy chess from about 10 years old and now, with 4 years practice, was becoming quite skilled at the game.  Michael had learned from his father, but didn’t play it quite as often.  But Lucy was sharpening him up.

‘Come on Michael.  What are you going to do?’

They were in Michael’s place at 6 Bradley Street in Cooma, were Michael lived.  They had chosen Bradley Street because that was also the family’s surname, and they had a quirky sense of humour.  Michael surveyed the move Lucy had just made and casually moved up his knight.  Unfortunately he had left a bishop vulnerable, not having noticed, and Lucy took it instantly.  5 minutes later the game was over, Lucy having checkmated him.

‘Well done, Luce,’ said Michael.  ‘You nearly always win.’  ‘But you are getting better, Michael.  You probably need practice, as Shelandragh says.’

Shelandragh was sitting on the couch, in conversation with Michael’s mother.  While Michael had been taken out of his lessons with Shelandragh for a while, they had since resumed.  From the conversation Shelandragh had learned that Michael’s great-great-grandfather had been known in the family for certain magical traits.  It appeared this is were Michael had inherited his talent from.  The family, from Michael, had become familiar with the term ‘Muggles’ to describe them as non-magical folk.  But they had it in them, somewhat, from what Shelandragh had learned.

Shelandragh continued what she had been saying.  ‘So Michael really is developing.  Showing great talent.  He is not quite as gifted as Lucy, I mean few are.  But he is a genuine wizard in training and I really think it is time you considered, in the school breaks, sending him to one of the Sydney schools of magic.  It would benefit him no end.’  Michael’s mother nodded.  ‘Yes, me and Henry have been considering that.  Perhaps next year, but not this year.  His school studies are still very important to us.  Perhaps next year.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ responded Shelandragh.

Sitting on the floor in the front living room of the Bradley’s house, Michael and Lucy had their wands pointed at each other and were threatening each other with the most deadly of spells.  Lucy chided him, suggesting she should turn him into a mermaid.  Michael responded by saying he would turn her into a Leprechaun.  The two of them circled each other for some time and both Shelandragh and Mrs Bradley seemed somewhat amused by the obvious rivalry.

Later on, having calmed down, Lucy looked out the window of the car as they drove back to Bunyan.  Visiting Michael was always one of her favourite things to do, and she quietly buzzed with happiness as Shelandragh left the outskirts of Cooma, just a few minutes from home.

*   *   *   *   *

Harry, arriving back at 17 Bradlock street in Cottingham, somewhere in Yorkshire, a little cottage hidden away from the rest of the Cottingham community, came through the door to find Ginny, his fiancé, at the table, crying.  She had a letter in her hand and Harry wondered what on earth the problem could be.  ‘What is it Ginny?’ he asked alarmed.  ‘Whatever could the matter be?’  Ginny, seeing Harry had returned, rose to her feet and put her arms around him, sobbing on his shoulder.  Eventually she began.  ‘Grandmother,’ she said, spluttering out the words.  ‘Grandmother has passed on.’  ‘Oh, is that all,’ said Harry a little callously.  ‘Is that all!’ she exclaimed, belting his shoulder lightly.  ‘Look, I didn’t mean it that way.  Sorry.  But nobody lives forever, really, do they Ginny.  Nobody really lives forever.’  Sobering up somewhat, Ginny nodded.  That was true.  That much was true.  ‘She had a good life, didn’t she?  And which grandmother anyway?’  ‘Well, great-grandmother Weasely actually.  She was 137, quite old I guess.’  ‘137!’ exclaimed Harry.  ‘And I thought Dumbledore was old.’  ‘Oh, I think Dumbledore may even be older than that Harry.  I think he is, in some ways, ancient.’  She wiped her tears on a handkerchief, and seemed somewhat cheered up.  She looked at him intently.  ‘How was the professor.  Did he share his news with you.’  ‘It is sort of what we had already known, Ginny.  Something he wanted to get off his chest.  But, knowing the professor, he will still have his concerns.’  ‘He shouldn’t worry about that.  People understand these days.  Even Muggles understand on that issue.’  ‘Yes, I guess,’, said Harry.  He looked at the other letters sitting on the table, noticing one from Ron.  ‘What does Ron say?’  Ginny looked at the letter.  ‘Oh, he had success in China.  A spell they had planned worked wonders, apparently.  And he is grinning, from his tone, at the good payout he received.  Says the wizarding life could have its advantages.’  ‘It always has had that,’ replied Harry.

Eating a late lunch that afternoon, Harry looked through Ron’s letter.  It was a typical Weasely letter, with all the spelling mistakes.  Still, he had not concentrated on Muggles schooling as much as his wizardry, so spelling mistakes were not a surprise.  He noted that Ron planned a visit to them soon, just after getting back from China.  It would be good to catch up with his best friend, a friendship which had steadily continued after Hogwarts days.

Thinking over his new fortune, Harry knew he really did not have to work now.  He did not even have to ply his trade as a wizard if he chose not to.  But wealth did not change a man, Harry often told himself.  If he was going to be a true man he would have to show the world he cared – that he would give of himself and bring something of the man Harry Potter was becoming to the larger community.  But as of yet, he was still waiting to see exactly what that would be.  Oh, he’d had ideas, but he was still waiting.  Waiting for a light to be turned on in his mind which would lead him on the pathway of destiny that Harry Potter, instinctively, knew he had to tread down.  But for now he would enjoy the simple life with his fiancé, and all the various family and wizarding gatherings, and let the life of Harry Potter develop when and were it should.

Chapter Three

Madalene Bridges, sitting watching a movie on her television, home alone with her mother yet to return from work, heard a knock at the door.  Her mother had told her many times never to answer the door when nobody else was home, but Madalene always had a stubborn streak.  She peered through the spy-hole and saw what, strangely enough, looked like a sort of gypsy figure, all dressed up, standing in front of her door.  And so, curiousity aroused, Madalene opened the door.

‘Yes, can I help you,’ began Madalene.  The gypsy looked at her, bowed formally, and put out her hand, holding something.  ‘Dear Madalene, daughter of destiny.  This is one of five special golden sovereigns.  Five very special golden sovereigns.  Inevitably you will meet the owners of the other four, for you already know one of them.  Now, you must not lose this sovereign, Madalene.  Whatever else happens in the quest before you, you simply can not lose this sovereign.  If you do you will certainly fail, and you will meet your fate sooner than expected.’

Madalene, despite thinking she should know better, reached out her hand and took the sovereign from the gypsy.  She looked it over.  It was encrusted with strange designs, and a particular greenish yellow gem in the centre of it on one side.  It looked valuable.  She was about to ask the gypsy a question but, when looking up, found the gypsy had disappeared out of sight.  But then a shrilling voice of the gypsy from somewhere in the distance yelled out, ‘remember, do not lose the sovereign, or you will certainly pay the price.’  And that was that.

She returned inside, placed the sovereign into a special box in her room, and went back to her movie.  But all that afternoon before her mother, brother and sister returned home she could not get the gypsy and the golden sovereign out of her mind.

*   *   *   *   *

The train was belting along, currently somewere in Northern Siberia, and Ron was happy enough gazing out at the countryside.  On the first stop he had sent a letter to Ginny and Harry letting them know of his successes.  Yes, he was chuffed, and the letter reflected that to a degree.  Ron gave thought to Harry’s knew life with Ginny.  It had been shortly after the vanquishing of Voldemort, when they had completed their final year at Hogwarts, a much talked about final year that Harry had proposed to Ginny in front of the whole school assembly.  There had been an overwhelming cheer from everyone, all pleased, and Mrs McGonagall had congratulated Harry and Ginny personally.  Dumbledore, unfortunately, had been busy in London with the Ministry of Magic and had missed the celebration, but had likely since been informed, so Ron suspected.  They’d been on the train for a week now as it was a long, slow and winding route it was taking back to France, and it was estimated another full month before they would be home.  But this didn’t bother Ron Weasely.  Somehow a wizard riding in trains was traditional, especially in light of his many trips to Hogwarts on trains.

Hermione had, increasingly, since graduating from Hogwarts, grown closer to him.  Closer than ever before.  They snogged each other often but Ron sensed, in the subtle ways females communicate, that Hermione was after something more.  Perhaps that something which had brought Harry and Ginny together.  Ron, though, was nervous.  Very nervous.  He was still young and really did not feel he could make the kind of commitment that Hermione perhaps was after.  Not yet, anyway.  Still too many wizarding adventures to take care of before that kind of commitment.

Luna Lovegood and Hermione returned to the carriage just then, having excused themselves to go to the ladies room.  In Luna’s hand Ron noticed something – something which looked like a golden coin.  Something which had Luna and Hermione talking avidly.  ‘What’s that,’ asked Ron innocently.  ‘It’s a golden sovereign,’ replied Luna.  ‘A gypsy gave it to me.  A most strange gypsy.  And then she disappeared.’  ‘A gypsy? Yeh right.  I haven’t seen any gypsies aboard,’ replied Ron.  ‘That is what we have been discussing, Ronald,’ said Hermione curtly.  ‘Well, why did the gypsy give you a golden sovereign?’  ‘She said something about a quest, and not to lose the sovereign.  Very important that, she stressed.  Don’t lose the sovereign.’  ‘Give us a look then,’ said Ron, holding out his hand.  Hermione just shook her head, but took the coin from Luna and gave it promptly to Ron.  Ron examined the coin.  ‘It’s got strange markings on it.  And is this a ruby?’  ‘We know Ron,’ said Hermione.  ‘It is most strange,’ commented Luna.  ‘Most strange indeed.’  ‘A gypsy, huh?  Well, were has she got to?’  ‘She’s gone, Ron.  We looked through every carriage and couldn’t see her anywhere.  She has just disappeared,’ replied Luna.  ‘Very weird,’ said Ron, still looking at the Sovereign.  ‘Well don’t be surprised if she comes back and asks for her coin.  She may have been just drunk.’  ‘Very funny Ron,’ said Hermione.

Hermione and Luna sat down and Ron gave the coin back to Luna.  Returning his gaze to the countryside his mind puzzled over coins and gypsies.  Still, reminding himself, that was the life of a wizard.  Full of all sorts of adventures.

*   *   *   *   *

Waking up that morning, Ginny still snoozing in the bed beside him, Harry woke to the early morning sun streaming through the window, bathing their room in morning glory.  The cockerel outside they kept was crowing proudly and just then everything seemed good in the world.  Inevitably he rose, put on his dressing gown, and went to stoke the fire in the main room.  Just then, though, a knock at the door.  Wondering just who it could be this early in the morning, Harry opened the door to see an elaborately dressed Gypsy, with a big smile on her face, standing in front of him.  ‘Greetings, greetings, to the famous Harry Potter.’  Harry nodded.  ‘Good morning, maam.  Can I help you?’  ‘I think it is I who can perhaps help you,’ replied the Gypsy.  She brought forth from inside her dress a coin – what looked like a golden coin, and handed it to Harry.  He took the coin and started examining it.  It had strange markings, and what looked like a turquoise gem on one side in the centre of it.  The gypsy spoke again.  ‘I know full well how wealthy you are, Harry Potter.  But for wealth beyond your wildest dreams, do not lose that golden sovereign.  Again, I repeat, do not lose the sovereign.’  Harry nodded, replying, ‘I won’t,’ and again started examining the coin.  He was about to ask the gypsy another question, but looking up noticed she was nowhere in sight.  And then a shrilling voice from somewhere in the distance yelled, ‘Whatever you do, don’t lose the sovereign.’  And that was that.

Harry returned inside, looked at Ginny as she came into the living room, yawning, and sat down at the table examining the coin.  ‘What have you got there?’ asked Ginny.  ‘A sovereign.  A golden sovereign.’  ‘From your collection?’  ‘Uh, no actually.  From a gypsy.’  She looked straight at him, a puzzled look at her face.  ‘Now what do you mean by that?’  ‘I guess we will find out eventually,’ replied Harry, again returning his gaze to the coin.

*   *   *   *   *

Enrique picked up another of Delilah’s many magazines, sitting in her carriage, while she was practicing in the big tent with Giovanni.  She didn’t mind him snooping around, so she told him, and he fancied her a lot.  But there was nothing official yet – just a friendship.  Reading through the magazine he suddenly noticed a face at the entrance of the carriage staring at him – a Gypsy.  ‘Uh, hi.  Delilah isn’t here at the moment.  She is in the tent practicing.’  ‘It is not Delilah I am after Enrique Lopes, but yourself.’  ‘Me?  You want me?  Well, how can I help you fair maiden,’ replied Enrique with his smooth Spanish accent, coming to the front of the carriage.  ‘I think, rather, it is how I can help you,’ replied the gypsy.  ‘Indeed,’ said Enrique, perplexed.  The Gypsy then held up in front of her a coin, what appeared to be a golden coin.  She flicked it with her thumb in Enrique’s direction and he reached out and grabbed it.  Examining it there were strange markings all over it and what appeared to be a diamond encrusted in the centre on one side.  ‘What is this for?’ asked Enrique.  ‘It is a key, Enrique Lopes.  A most important key, one of five.  In the quest before you, when you meet the other four, ensure you are not missing your own.  For then wealth beyond your wildest dreams will be denied to you.’  ‘Yeh right,’ said Enrique, again looking at the coin.  He looked up, about to ask another question, but the gypsy was nowhere to be seen.  And just then a shrilling voice from somewhere in the distance which yelled, ‘Whatever you do, don’t lose that coin.’  And that was that.

Enrique looked outside the carriage but couldn’t see the gypsy anywhere.  Returning inside he turned the coin over in his hand, trying to make sense of the strange engravings, but to no avail.  Still, if they gypsy spoke true, it was a key of sorts to great wealth.  And Enrique Lopes could certainly do with great wealth.  Placing the coin carefully in his wallet, he picked up the magazine he had been reading, and again lay down on Delilah’s bed.  What a strange encounter he thought to himself, as he turned the page.

*   *   *   *   *

Lucy, sitting in Shelandragh’s living room, reading through a tome of magic, Shelandragh out the back hanging up the washing, was oblivious to the knock at the door, so entranced was she with the magic book.  But then, coming to herself, she suddenly became aware of the knocking and rushed to the entrance.  There standing before her was a gypsy, elaborately dressed, presumably wanting Shelandragh.  ‘I will just go get Shelandragh, ok.  Be right back.’  But before Lucy had gone a few steps the gypsy spoke, ‘Not so quickly, Lucy.  For it is you I have come to talk to.’  Lucy hesitated and then, curiousity aroused, returned to the Gypsy.  ‘Yes,’ she said innocently.  ‘Lucy Potter.  You are the important one.  The most important of the five.  For your sovereign is the final key – the final key to ultimate treasure, treasure beyond your wildest dreams.  You must not lose the sovereign I am giving you, guard it with your life.  For if at the end of your great quest you have managed to retain the sovereign, wealth beyond dreams will be yours.’  The gypsy then brought her hand inside her clothing and then brought forth a golden coin which she handed to Lucy.  Lucy took the coin and started examining it.  There were strange engravings all over one side, and what appeared to be an emerald encrusted in the centre of the other side.  She was about to ask the gypsy another question when, looking up, the gypsy was nowhere to be seen.  But a voice from the distance shrilly yelled out, ‘whatever you do, don’t lose the coin.’   And that was that.

Coming into the kitchen, Shelandragh had come inside, noticed the coin, and asked, ‘What do you have there Lucy?’  Lucy handed the coin to Shelandragh who started examining it.  Shelandragh looked at her student.  ‘Were did you get this, Lucy?’  ‘A gypsy.  She was just here.  She said it was something to do with a quest and whatever I do, don’t lose the sovereign.’  Shelandragh looked at Lucy, about to ask another question, but thought better of it.  Whatever strange fate the gods had in mind for Lucy Potter, it was her quest to face.  She handed the coin back to her student and said, ‘Well don’t lose it then.  Keep it safe.’  And Lucy nodded.

*   *   *   *   *

In Heaven, one of the 70 children, Daniel the Dreamlord, was looking through one of the viewing portals.  The fifth and final sovereign had been delivered.  And now the quests would begin, he thought to himself, ever so pleased.

Just then Ariel, the Lioness, Daniel’s twin, entered the room.  She came up to Daniel from behind and touched his shoulder.  He turned, looked at her, and smiled.  He indicated the seats near the fireplace and they sat.

‘So,’ began Ariel, ‘the coins are delivered now?’  ‘Yes, they are,’ replied Daniel.  ‘And now the quests begin.  I am most sure you will watch avidly.  But what if they should fail?  What if the obstacles are too much for them?’  ‘I am sure, dear sister, that the five of them will shine in this little adventure we have planned.  I am most sure of that.  Certainly, Grimlock will thwart them in what way he can, and I dare say Voldemort will be there waiting at the end, yet again.  But I have faith in our five young adventurers.  They are full of life, full of dreams and hopes.  They will take this as a challenge and come out shining.  I am confident of that.’

Ariel nodded.  She had the same viewpoint, by and large, ever since Dream had suggested setting up this particular quest.  ‘I do so hope they remember not to lose their coins.  It would be so disappointing getting to the gates, if they manage to get that far, and not have the coins.  It would be such a disappointment.’  Daniel nodded.  ‘My own fear is that Voldemort claims all four.  For the fortune will be his then, which will make him far more deadly on the final day of dark prophecy.’  ‘Still, brother, Saruviel is the one she must face that day, and not Voldemort.  For in the prophecy, with regards to the other chosen one, it is Harry who must ultimately defeat Voldemort.  It is his destiny and his destiny alone to finally defeat that foul creature.’  ‘Harry will rise above, dear sister.  It is in him, I sense it.  Greatness belongs to him.  Remember he has noble blood in him.  Merlin’s seed will not fail on that day, I assure you sister Lioness.  I assure you of that.’  ‘Let us hope so.  Now, would you like a game of chess?  I have nearly caught you in our games played.  4367 to 4455.  Not too many to go and I will have you.’  ‘Oh, I know.  I have just gone soft, dear sister.  But I will move when I need to.  Believe me on that.’  Ariel grinned.  Her brother was nothing if not confident.  He was nothing if not that.

They began another of their famous games and, as another day of eternal life passed in the realm of heaven, in the throneroom of heaven the sparks of the flame of God went through a myriad of rainbow colours, before returning to a bright burning purple flame.

Chapter Four

Lucy was exploring today.  She was up on the hill, across from David’s paddocks, looking down over Chakola.  Minxy the Sprite, despite many protestations, had walked beside her, as well as Madalene.  And Madalene had in her hands a map – a strange, old looking map.  They had found it in old Grandma Bridges house.  She had passed away a number of years back and, when they were exploring, they found what looked like an old map.  Madalene had decided to bring it along with them on their adventures that day to see if she could make out just were the treasure supposedly lied.  But while it had a starting point down at the Chakola crossing and led to a series of 5 key places, there were 5 cryptic riddles which needed to be solved to get to the next place on the map, from the best of what they had discerned.  Lucy said it was probably an elaborate hoax, but Maddy kept the map anyway.

They had both showed each other their Golden Sovereigns, and Lucy had said maybe Michael Bradley now had a golden sovereign as well.  She suspected the gypsy simply knew a few of her friends and was playing a game with them, which Maddy said might be true as well.  Still the sovereigns looked like real gold so it could be an expensive game to play.

Sitting there, gazing over Chakola, watching David in the nearby fields gathering some veges, Lucy asked Maddy to read the first riddle again.  Maddy spoke, ‘In the centre were the kings of fiercest pride reign, on the warfield of glory, were many men are slain, in the colour were saints reign in purest cleanest white, were the nanny goat does gaze, lies the key to darkest night.’  Lucy thought over that riddle.  She had thought on it many times but, as of yet, still no sense could she make of it.  ‘It is cryptic, Maddy.  But we will work it out.  I am sure.’  ‘Let’s hope so, responded Madalene.

They spent the next half an hour up on the hill, chatting casually, and then started the long walk back to schoolhouse.

*   *   *   *   *

Enrique shovelled yet another load of his beloved Dragon, Andropholous’, dung into the recycling bin.  While shovelling shit was not exactly the most rewarding of jobs he realized it was an inevitable part of a day in the life of a Terran Dragonrider.  Finishing up he decided to go clean up and head into the nearby village were they had currently set up the big tent.

Finding himself, after a latte in a café, in an old bookshop browsing around, he found at the back of shop, on a very dusty library, an ancient array of Spanish tomes.  Looking right up at the top shelf, which looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in decades, he reached up to grab a book which looked interesting.  Yet, pulling it out, there fell to the floor what looked like a scroll, which seemed to have been hidden behind the book.  He reached down, picked up the scroll and opened it.  It looked like a map of sorts and there seemed to be a series of questions in the forms of riddles by the looks of it on the map.  He put the other book back, wandered to the front of the store, and asked how much for the book.  Yet the storekeeper denied ever having seen the scroll and told him he could have it if he wanted it.

Walking along the cobbled streets he veered to a small park and sitting down on a bench looked over the map.  There appeared to be a starting point at the bottom of the map which had the village name he was currently in residing underneath it.  And then a riddle, which led to the next part of the map were there was another riddle.  All in all there were 5 riddles and at the top of the last riddle a picture of a gate with a drawing of a treasure chest behind the gate.  He laughed to himself.  ‘An old fashioned treasure map.  Fancy that.’  Rolling up the scroll and carefully putting it in his satchel he started his walk back to the big tent.  But he would give the scroll another look over that evening.  If there was treasure, as they gypsy seemed to allude to, perhaps this was the start of his adventure to find it.  Perhaps he had gotten lucky after all.

*   *   *   *   *

The train had come to a stop somewere in central Russia.  Ron and Hermione were wandering around the village were they would be stopped for a few hours, looking here and there are at the old world style of country life.  They were sitting in a small park of the village when Luna returned from her wanderings, holding an old tatty scroll.  ‘What’s that,’ asked Ron.  ‘A map, I think.  It was folded up in this old spell-book I purchased at a bookstore just up yonder,’ she said pointing from were she had come.  ‘It has some riddles in it, I think.  There in English funnily enough.’  ‘Does the map lead anywhere,’ asked Hermione, curiousity aroused.  ‘Here,’ said Luna, showing them both the map and what appeared to be the final part of the map’s journey.  ‘It’s a gate following the final fifth riddle with a treasure chest shown behind the gate.  ‘Oh how quaint.  A bloody treasure map,’ said Ron sarcastically.  ‘It’s probably a forge, Luna,’ said Hermione.  ‘I wouldn’t put any trust in it.’  But Luna seemed more confident than either of them and persevered.  ‘The first riddle has a little picture of a village with this villages name underneath it.  I think this is the starting point.’  ‘We don’t have time for chasing up phoney treasure maps, Luna.  The train will be leaving in an hour or so.’ Stated Ron flatly.  ‘Well let’s see if we can solve the first riddle anyway.  See were it leads.’  Ron just shook his head, but Hermione decided to read out the riddle.

‘In the centre of town, were you spieth the clown, look into his heart, at the top of the arch.’ Read Hermione.

‘Well the centre of town should be easy enough to find,’ said Hermione.  ‘Come on then,’ replied Luna.  ‘We may as well have a look.’  Reluctantly, and moaning, Ron got to his feet following his friends.  If they did spy a clown at least it might make some fun for the next hour or so.

*   *   *   *   *

Harry made regular visits to Cottingham for various everyday living items and was familiar with most of its storefronts.  But one afternoon, walking down a side alley he had not been down before, he came to a rather decrepit looking storefront with an old sign out the front ever so similar to the kind of sign you would find in Daigon Alley.  The storefront was called ‘Ye Olde Magick Shoppe’.  ‘How original,’ Harry thought to himself.  ‘Now why haven’t I seen this before?  And so entering the old store, he came inside to a place from another age.

It was like entering Merlin’s home from the 4^th century.  Old cauldrons, a number of living frogs creaking around the store, jars and bottles and cans filled with all sorts of reagents and, fortunately, over against the back wall a bookshelf which looked rather flimsy, almost held together simply by its ancient will to survive.  He spied, behind the counter, a rather old man with an ancient wizarding cap, and an ever so long beard, snoozing.  ‘Best not to wake the old fellow,’ Harry thought to himself.

He spent a number of minutes perusing through the magic books and was quite surprised by what he was reading.  Ancient spells were contained within, some in very early primitive form.  Whoever this wizard store owner was he really needed to move with the times.  Finally, finding an old tome which looked interesting, he came up to the storefront and coughed lightly.  But the old man did not stir.  He coughed again, to no avail.  But finally, on the third attempt, coughing quite loudly by now, the old man stirred from his slumber.  ‘Heaven’s above.  Do I actually have a customer?’  ‘Ah, yes,’ replied Harry.  ‘This book,’ he said indicating the magic tome.  ‘How much is it?’  The old wizard took the book from Harry’s hand, looked it over, and smiled.  ‘Ah yes.  Alchemy for beginners,’ he said with a voice of one of ancient days.  ‘That will be thruppence, my young son.’  Harry gave him a look.  ‘Three pennies?  You are kidding, right.’  ‘Not a penny more, not a penny less, my young son.’  Harry smiled.  ‘Well ok then.’  And fishing into his pocket pulled out three pence.  ‘There you go.’  The old man took the pennies, placed them in an ancient purse he pulled out from his cloak, and started going back to sleep.  Harry just shook his head, puzzled, but turned and made his way to the exit.  As he left, unbeknownst to him, the old man opened an eyelid, gave Harry a quick look, smiled to himself, and returned to his slumber.’

With the book under his arm Harry started his trek back to his home, carrying his satchel with some minor groceries and the magic book.  ‘What a strange man,’ he thought to himself, as he continued his way back to 17 Bradlock Street.

*   *   *   *   *

Lucy and Madalene were in Cooma in Centennial Park, sitting on benches, eating Ice Cream.  Shelandragh was sitting nearby, chatting to Darren Merryweather who had come down from Canberra for the day.  Shelandragh came over to speak to them.  ‘Lucy, Maddy.  Me and Darren are just going somewere for a short while, but you two should be safe enough here.  Why don’t you go and climb nanny goat hill for the view.  I am sure you could use the exercise?’  Maddy stared at Lucy instantly.  ‘Nanny goat hill,’ they both mouthed to each other.  ‘Of course,’ said Madalene.  And then the two of them took off up the road, headed west to climb the nearby hill in the centre of town.  ‘We won’t be long,’ shouted Shelandragh after them.

Climbing the hill made them puff as it was quite steep near the top, but eventually they got to the summit and came over to the viewing section were the concrete nanny-goat stood, looking in the direction of roughly south by the looks of it.  The two of them peered in that direction.  ‘Well there is the shopping mall just there,’ said Maddy pointing.  ‘And there is the SMEC building.’  Lucy nodded, familiar with the sights.  ‘There’s a church up there,’ said Lucy.  ‘But I don’t think the nanny-goat is really gazing at the church.  It looks as if it is looking at the oval, of all things.’  Lucy pulled out the map and looked again at the riddle.

‘In the centre were the kings of fiercest pride reign, on the Warfield of glory, were many men are slain, in the colour were saints reign in purest cleanest white, were the nanny goat does gaze, lies the key to darkest night.’

‘Saints in purest cleanest white,’ said Madalene out loud.  ‘Maybe they are talking about when cricketers wear white?’ said Lucy.  And then the riddle seemed to make sense.  ‘And the oval is the Warfield of Glory,’ said Madalene.  ‘And when they get out that is when they are slain,’ finished Lucy.  It all made sense.

‘We better be quick then,’ said Madalene, and the two of them took off for the oval.  About ten minutes later they were standing in the middle of the oval were the yearly show was held.  ‘Well, we are in the centre,’ said Lucy.  Now were is the key to darkest night?’  Maddy walked along the pitch and stood right in the centre of the pitch.  ‘This is the exact centre,’ she said, looking about.  ‘Well if it is treasure we are after, we will need to dig for it,’ said Lucy.  ‘Look there,’ said Lucy.  ‘There is a shovel.  The groundsman must of left it there with those other tools.’  ‘He must have been working on the pitch,’ responded Madalene.  ‘I hate to ruin his beautiful work though.  Well, how far down to we dig.’  Lucy thought that over.  ‘Well, I guess this pitch is used a lot.  But if we don’t find anything after about 30 centimetres we think of something else.  ‘Alright then,’ responded Madalene, and started digging.  Fortunately the ground was soft at the moment and at about 25 centimetres downwards Maddy hit what sounded like metal.  ‘I Think I have found something, Lucy.’  She dag around a bit and getting down on her hands and knees, groping in the dirt, she pulled out a rusty old small metal box.  ‘Look inside,’ said Lucy instantly.  Inside Madalene found a key and another tiny scroll.  Opening the scroll she read one word, the name of a small village near Canberra, ‘Tharwa’.  Lucy reached an instant conclusion.  ‘I guess that is were the next riddle will be answered.’  ‘So we persuade Shelandragh to take us to Tharwa sometime,’ quizzed Madalene.  ‘I’ll work on it,’ responded Lucy.  ‘Now Shelandragh will be worried sick.  We better get back to Nanny-goat hill.  Maddy nodded and the two of them filled the hole back in as best they could and carefully carrying their prizes made their way back to the hill in search of Shelandragh and Darren.

*   *   *   *   *

Looking at the first riddle there was a tiny picture of a village with the name of the village he was in written underneath it.  Presumably that meant he was in the right place to start his quest.  Enrique looked at the first riddle. 

It read, ‘When Death’s long hand reads number three, follow ten yards to wrinkled tree.  Inside the heart of flora’s boast, the key of night and your next host.’

‘Death’s long hand?  Mmmm.  Now what exactly was Death’s long hand?’  He looked again at the name of the village that was the starting point of the map and it was indeed the village he was in.  So he would have to go looking for death’s long hand.  Presumably, with some effort, he would find it.

*   *   *   *   *

‘I have been looking, ok,’ whinged Ron.  ‘Well look harder,’ said Luna.  Ron shrugged, annoyed that there time was running out.  They were in the centre of town at the market square, looking everywhere for a clown.  Ron looked over the buildings again.  The toy store with its funny building design.  The town hall.  The post office and an array of shops.  And then, struck by an odd thought, Ron looked at the Toy store again, noting the carved roof of the toy store.  ‘Hey,’ he said to Hermione and Luna.  ‘Come over here.’  He began walking a distance to get a look at the toy store from a distance.  And when Hermione and Luna had joined him and he pointed to the store they both smiled.  ‘And there is the arch on the roof beneath the hat.’  ‘Come on,’ said Ron.  ‘I’ll jump up.  Nobody is looking.’

Hermione ended up putting her hands up for him to climb up onto the roof and Ron approached the ancient arch.  There appeared to be a metal case underneath the top of the arch, sitting on a ledge.  He grabbed it and returned to the girls.  ‘Open it,’ said Luna.  Ron opened the case and found a key and a tiny scroll.  He gave the key to Luna and opened the scroll.  ‘It has a name on it,’ said Ron.  ‘A village name.’  Hermione took the note from Ron.  ‘This is the name of our next stop.  Tomorrow morning.’  ‘It must be the town for the next riddle,’ said Luna.  ‘I guess each riddle is in a new town.  ‘And the key?’ asked Ron.  ‘It must be for something important.  Keep it.’

Ron looked at his watch.  ‘We had better be going, and fast.  The train is leaving any minute.’

As they ran to the station Ron had a slight grin on his face.  If they could solve the next riddle at the next town then maybe, just maybe, the mysterious gypsy had spoken the truth.  It was certainly worth finding out.

*   *   *   *   *

‘What’s that Harry?’  Harry looked were Ginny was pointing.  ‘Oh, a magic book.  I found this amazing old store in Cottingham.  A magic shop.  I had never even known it was there.’  ‘Really?’ said Ginny, quite excited.  ‘And you purchased that.’  ‘For three pennies.  Can you believe that.’  ‘Three pennies?  That doesn’t sound right.  What, was the store owner barmy or something.’  ‘Quite probably,’ said Harry, sitting down at the table, picking up the book.  Just then a scroll fell out of the book.  Harry picked it up to look at it.  Ginny was looking on curiously.  ‘What is it?’ she asked.  Harry’s eyes scanned the document, quickly reaching a conclusion.  ‘It looks like some sort of map.  And there seems to be 5 different riddles.  And the starting point on the map has a picture of a small village underneath the first riddle with a sign reading ‘Cottingham’.  ‘Were does the map lead to.’  Harry followed the line.  ‘It goes through five sets of riddles with 5 villages, the other 4 villages have a blank sign, though.  And at the end there is a gate with a chest behind it.’  ‘That must be the gold,’ said Ginny smiling.  ‘Uh, yeh right,’ responded Harry.  ‘It’s a treasure map, Harry.  It must be.  Isn’t that what the gypsy was talking about.’  Harry nodded.  ‘Its just coincidence Ginny.’  ‘Nonsense.  It’s a treasure map.’  ‘Stubborn as your mother,’ said Harry underneath his breath.  ‘What was that Harry Potter,’ asked Ginny, rising to her feet.  ‘I said, your as brilliant as your mother.’  Ginny gave him a cautious look, but sat back down.  ‘So what is the first riddle?’ she asked.  Harry began reading.

‘Were life doth take us all, neath John Smith you’ll find it all.’

Ginny looked puzzled.  ‘Were life doth take us all…’ she pondered.  Harry just looked bemused.  ‘We’ll work it out, Harry.  It will just take some time.’  Harry nodded.  It seemed a pretty simple riddle, really, but at the moment he was stumped.  ‘Were exactly did life take everyone,’ he thought to himself.  ‘Were exactly?????’

Chapter Five

Enrique looked up at the clock.  ‘Now that is a bit obvious,’ he thought to himself.  The clock had as its background on its face a picture of the Grim Reaper – death himself.  But, ironically, the arms of the reaper were the two hands of the clock.  Looking at number 3 on the clock he realized he would have to go southwards now 10 yards.  Looking in that direction he spied the small park with the wrinkled tree.  Walking over there was a large hole in the tree, a seemingly natural cavity.  Guessing it was floras boast he reached inside it and searched around.  After spending 10 minutes pulling out leaves and twigs he finally pulled out a tiny metal box.  Opening it he found a key and a tiny scroll.  He looked at the scroll – on it was the name of a village not to far from the one he was in.  Success.  Now on to the next village.

*   *   *   *   *

‘Heaven’s above Lucy Potter.  Why on earth would you want to visit Tharwa of all places?  I have been there occasionally, driving through, but really there is not much there.’

‘We just need to Shelandragh.  It is important to us both.’

Shelandragh looked at Lucy and Madalene’s earnest faces and finally caved.  ‘Very well then.  But it will have to wait until the morning.  It’s nearly tea and it’s getting cold outside.’

‘Thank you Shelandragh,’ said Lucy, hugging her teacher.

The following day, driving up the Monaro highway, Lucy and Madalene were chatting busily to themselves, focused on the next riddle.  It read, “Beneath were cars and trucks do go, search ye were doth the Bidgee flow.”  They had thought on it for a little while with no great certainty, puzzled by the word ‘Bidgee’.  ‘I am sure it will make sense when we get there,’ said Madalene, Lucy hoping she was right.  It was a puzzle but it would make more sense at Tharwa.

*   *   *   *   *

Harry was sitting in his home in Cottingham, looking over a magic text, when Ginny asked him a question.  ‘Harry, what power is magic based upon?’

‘What is it based on?’ asked Harry, finding the question a little interesting.

‘Uh, not sure.  Dumbledore had a convoluted explanation, but wasn’t exactly clear.  Why do you ask?’

‘I was speaking to this fellow, over at the cemetery.  He was a Christian.  Fancy that.  And we were talking about witchcraft and he said the power of witches came from demons, and that they were the enemies of God.  The demons I mean.’

‘We are not all like Voldemort, Ginny.  White witches have the purest motivations.’

‘But where does our power come from?  I mean, where does it come from?  Is it from God?’

Harry looked at her.  She mentioned the ‘G’ word.  You weren’t supposed to do that, mention the ‘G’ word.  It wasn’t the done thing.

‘Ginny, I don’t think I really know who or what God is exactly.  I mean, he could be anything.’

‘If he’s a he.’

‘Exactly.  But if it is the biblical God, then we are in the wrong profession.  I read in Exodus, once, what you are supposed to do to witches.  You are supposed to kill them.  I mean, kill them.  The laws of this God, by the looks of it, don’t tolerate witches at all.’

‘But if witchcraft is based on demonic power, perhaps that is the reason why?’

He looked at her, feeling uncomfortable with the subject, but conceded the point.  ‘I guess I see what you are saying, Ginny.  I guess I see what you are saying.’

*   *   *   *   *

Over the next few months the teams all gradually worked through their various riddles and quests.  Each of them had an exciting and wonderful time, learning more about life and its challenges.  Finally, they were down to the final destination, which was a place in Austria.  Madalene and Lucy managed to persuade Shelandragh to pay for their fare, after finally giving her the full explanation of what had been going on and, finding themselves in a chateau in Austria, coming down for dinner, they suddenly ran into most unexpected company.

*   *   *   *   *

‘Harry, is that you?  Is that really you?’

Harry looked up, suddenly very surprised.  ‘Lucy!’ he exclaimed.  ‘Cousin Lucy!’  He came forward, hugged his cousin, and introduced her to Ginny, his wife.  ‘This is Ginny.  It is great that you two have finally met.’  Ginny hugged Lucy, who turned to introduce Shelandragh and Madalene.  ‘This is my bestie, Madalene Bridges.’  Harry waved to her.  ‘And this is my teacher, Shelandragh May.  She know all about you, Harry.’  Harry looked at her, smiled, but noticed a reserved look in Shelandragh’s face.  As if she didn’t approve of him in some way.  In some mysterious, strange way.

*   *   *   *   *

‘So what is animism, exactly Shelandragh?  What is it exactly?’

‘Animistic spirits are the creator’s spirits, Harry.  The ones God has put in place.  You do notice them, don’t you?  The spirit of a place?  The feel, the ambience of a place.  You do notice that, don’t you?’

Harry thought about that and, suddenly, a connection was made.  A connection in the familiar feelings around their home in Cottingham as opposed to that near Hogwarts.  And suddenly he had an inclination of were this Shelandragh May was coming from.

‘And what is Animistic witchcraft?’ asked Harry, very curious.

Shelandragh looked at Harry, and then looked down at Lucy, who was smiling at her anxiously.  ‘I think it is time you knew, Lucy.  I think it is time you knew.’

Shelandragh looked at Harry, and spoke.  ‘Well, Harry, you really should know this.  In Australia, apart from the wiccan and older witches, ones outside of the Australian Ministries authority, we no longer practice traditional witchcraft.  Every school in Australia now teaches Animistic witchcraft.  During the latter half of the 20^th century we gradually did away with the older ways of witchery, and began teaching the new methodologies.  The older ways, in the end, had their flaws.  You see, Harry, animism is part of the natural order.  It is part of God’s designs, part of his creation.  When we engage in animistic spiritual witchcraft, when our motivations are pure and enlightened, angelic forces grant us our abilities.  Abilities they have long used in their own struggles.  Struggles with darker forces.  Darker, more evil forces.  Forces of Satan.’

Harry stood back.  He didn’t like hearing the Devil mentioned.  He didn’t like hearing that one little bit.

Lucy looked at Shelandragh, a question arising.  ‘Shelandragh, I thought you said we created our own animistic energy.  You even taught me how that was done.’

‘For you, Lucy, it was taught.  But that was for a reason.  I reason I hinted to you at earlier this year.  But you will find out about that later on.  You will find out about that later.  Suffice to say you were somebody capable of using this talent, as opposed to others.  And I guess we will leave it at that.’  Lucy nodded, but remained uncertain what Shelandragh really meant.  Shelandragh looked at Harry.  ‘You have latent abilities in Animism, Harry.  It comes from your pedigree.  Merlin learned that later on in life.  Finally got the point, I think.’

‘Merlin,’ asked Harry alarmed.  ‘Are you saying I am related to Merlin?’

‘Heaven’s above, Harry potter.  You and Lucy are direct descendants.’

Lucy looked at Shelandragh, incredulously.  ‘I am descended from Merlin.’

‘You learn something new every day, don’t you sweetie.’

Lucy beamed.  It was awesome news learning you were related to Merlin.

‘In fact, you live in Cottingham, don’t you?’ Shelandragh asked Harry.

‘We both do,’ said Ginny, holding her husband’s arm.

‘That is ironic,’ said Shelandragh, but said nothing more.

‘Well, why on earth are you here?  Lucy finally asked Harry.

‘We’re on a quest,’ Ginny blurted out.  And over the next few minutes, to everyone’s surprise, they found out they were on exactly the same quest.  And later on that evening, when Ron, Luna and Hermione arrived, too much the same excitement, they figured out that somebody had been pulling strings to get them all together.  Of course, over in a corner of the chateau a Spanish looking fellow had been eyeing them suspiciously all evening, someone who had caught Lucy’s eye, a very attractive looking guy.  And, somehow, quite familiar.  As if she had known him before.  Known him very well, in fact.

Chapter Six

He followed from a distance, initially, but when they arrived at the address given after solving the final riddle, Enrique knew he must make himself known.

After introductions, and explaining he had heard them last night and knew they were on the same quest, the group considered the door to the chanty in front of them.  It was all thick stone, and the chanty itself looked otherwise impenetrable.

‘What are we going to do now?’ bemoaned Ron.  Luna had a suggestion.

‘Try the keys.  There are four keyholes, after all.’  They looked at the keyholes and noticed that each keyhole seemed to have a differing basic design around it and, after taking out the keys, they noticed a similar design on each of the differing keys.  Putting each key in its hole Harry said.  ‘Lets now try turning them.’  As one the group turned each key and a clicking noise was made, after which the door jolted open.

They all peered inside.  ‘It looks dark,’ said Hermione.

Harry cast a light spell and they all entered into the gloomy pathway.  It was dark and quite scary and Lucy found herself next to Enrique, clinging on to his arm.  Enrique didn’t mind that though.  He had found himself instantly taken with the girl.

The ceiling of the walkway was full of cobwebs, and they encountered more than just one creepy crawly landing on their head, which they wiped off quickly.  ‘Ooh, I hate bugs,’ said Madalene, and everyone laughed.

It was a long walk, and after about a mile Ron exclaimed ‘Will this tunnel ever end!’  And, is if in response, the tunnel suddenly ended, coming into a large cavern.

‘Excellent work, Ron Weasely,’ commented Shelandragh.

‘Excellent work indeed, Ron Weasely.’  And suddenly, coming out of the shadows, Harry’s true adversary, the one whom he had thought finally and utterly defeated, Voldemort himself, on top of one of three hideous looking dragons.  And then, Deatheaters appeared, all around Voldemort, nine of them.  Harry suddenly put his hand up to his scar, almost instinctively.

‘Does it hurt, Harry?’ asked Hermione.

‘No,’ said Harry.  ‘It’s ok.  This is going to get dangerous,’ said Harry, wand ready.

‘We’re not as young as we used to be,’ said Ron to Harry.

‘We can handle them,’ said Luna.

Shelandragh spoke up.  ‘Dear Voldemort.  It does not surprise me that you are here.  I should have known better.  The mastermind behind this little quest, I take it.’

Voldemort grinned.  ‘On the contrary, fair maiden, I have had nothing to do with this little quest of yours.  But I will take the rewards, and your lives as well.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ said Hermione, wand ready as the Deatheaters approached a little.

‘I am quite sure I have the upper hand, dear Potter entourage.  But let us see if we can come to an arrangement prior to your deaths.  Perhaps they can be avoided.  I require half of the treasure.  Half, and I will leave your group alone.  Grant me this agreement and we can have a more amenable resolution to our little predicament.  What say you, Harry Potter.’

‘Go to hell, Voldemort.  We will have no agreement with you.’

‘Well spoken, Harry,’ said Luna.

Voldemort sneered at them, but accepted the obvious.  ‘Very well then, as you wish,’ he said, crossing his arms and bowing his head slightly to them.  And then the other two dragons and the Deatheaters attacked.

Over in the corner of the cavern Grimlock was watching from a hiding place.  He didn’t want to get involved in this fight.  Really, he didn’t want to.

Harry was older now.  Older and wiser in the ways of magic, and the fight which followed, while intense, and the cause of great anxiety for Lucy, Enrique and Madalene, seemed to be handled well by the other more experienced magicians.  It only took about 5 minutes and the dragons had retreated, scorched themselves by some of Shelandragh’s spells, and the Deatheaters had backed off, Harry and the others now more than a match for them.

Voldemort watched on, increasingly embarrassed, as his most loyal Deatheaters were overcome by the now experienced youths.  Really, it was intolerable.

‘Come on Voldemort,’ said Harry.  ‘We are ready for your worst.  Come on, you coward,’ he yelled at him.  ‘Come on.’  Voldemort, though, knew better.  Yelling for Grimlock, he made a retreat up another walkway on the other side of the cavern, yelling one last threat.  ‘We will meet again, Harry Potter.  Be assured of that.’  And with those words he was gone, like a shadow disappearing with the rising sun.

Harry walked over to the other walkway, and noticed Voldemort and his dragons and Grimlock scampering up the pathway.  They were no match for Harry Potter anymore, it seemed.  No match at all.

*   *   *   *   *

‘Was it Grimlock?’ Lucy asked Shelandragh.

‘I am not really sure.  I think that is what Voldemort yelled, but I didn’t hear clearly.  But I guess anything is possible.  The ministry has long had concerns over him.’

‘Well, now what?’ said Ron.

‘I guess this door is the next obstacle.’ Said Luna, and everyone noticed the large door in the far wall of the cavern, something they had not immediately noticed having been distracted by Voldemort.  Lucy walked over to it, and the others followed.

‘There are four keyholes, with the same designs again.’

‘Let’s try again,’ said Ron.  They did so, and again the large door jolted open.

The pathway was again dark, but only seemed to go on a number of yards, opening up into a lit room.  They came in and found it empty apart from a tiny little house in the corner, and a pinball machine.  They all looked on puzzled, when a Leprechaun, of all creatures, suddenly emerged from the house, looked at them, stretched himself and yawned and said, ‘Top of the morning, to yous.  Glad ye finally arrived.’

‘Who are you?’ asked Madalene.

‘Shamus O’Shamus,’ replied the Leprechaun.  ‘Glad to be of service to ye.  Now tell me, did ye bring yer Sovereigns.  Ye won’t be going on any further with this quest without them.’

The group brought forth their Sovereigns, and Shamus smiled.  ‘Good luck then,’ he said, indicating the pinball machine.

‘Go on Harry,’ said Ron.  ‘You go first.’

‘Alright,’ replied Harry, and put in his Sovereign.  He pushed the start button and proceeded to play.

‘Let’s hope the four of you get enough,’ said the Leprechaun.

‘And how much is that,’ asked Harry.

‘We’ll see,’ said the Leprechaun.

‘Harry made 3,700 and the ball finally went between the flippers.

‘Not a bad score,’ said Shamus.

One by one the other three had their turns, and then finally, the last ball disappearing between the flippers, the total score came up.  10,120.

‘Oh my,’ said the Leprechaun.  ‘Oh my.  We were lucky, weren’t we.’

Madalene who had gone last had scored 4,000, the highest score, and they had just exceeded the 10,000 mark by the looks of it.

‘How much did we need,’ asked Harry.

’10,000,’ said the Leprechaun.

‘Phew,’ said Madalene, wiping her forehead, and the others laughed.

‘Well I’ve done better.  Now press the golden button.’

Madalene pressed the golden button on the machine, and instantly the machine dropped down into the floor, revealing a doorway beyond it.

‘Enjoy,’ said the Leprechaun.

One by one they went through the doorway, and as they entered the room Harry cast a large light spell, and they were suddenly overcome.

All throughout a large cavern were piles and piles of treasure chests, filled with gold coins, diamonds and rubies and every gem imaginable, as well as artwork and numerous other items, so many laden with gold and other precious metals.

‘We’re rich,’ exclaimed Lucy, and everyone laughed.

*   *   *   *   *

After Shamus O’Shamus giving them instructions on how they could more easily access the treasure when they needed to, he gave them backpacks which they could fill with just enough to get them started, and wished them well on their way.  They were wealthy now, some of them even more so than they had been.  It really was a good day for Lucy Potter, and looking at Enrique, noticing how handsome he looked, she felt it was a good day for him as well.  Everything it seemed had turned out for the best on this little quest of theirs.  Everything, it seemed, had turned out alright in the end.

*   *   *   *   *

Ariel smiled.  ‘It was a good ending,’ she said to her Dreamlord brother, Daniel.

‘Of course it was, Lioness,’ replied the Dreamlord.  ‘How could it have gone any other way.’

‘They are getting stronger in their powers now, Daniel.  Much stronger.’

‘And I think they will need to.  While Harry will inevitably defeat Voldemort, there are darker powers at work, and a choice of destiny one day.  Let us hope the right decision is made that day, dear sister, let us hope so.’

‘By God’s grace it will, brother.  By God’s grace it will.  Now how about another game of chess.’

And Daniel the Dreamlord of Heaven smiled.

THE END