29) After The Battle

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were surveying the aftermath of the battle night before last. Parts of the stone bridge had been blasted away, leaving dangerous gaps. The lawn Hagrid too so much pride in mostly burned away, the rest trampled. The walls of the castle were pock marked where curses had struck. There were also blast holes. The stained glass windows mostly blown out.

"Think it'll ever be the same again?", Ron asked.

"I don't know", Harry said, "Perhaps... given enough time and effort. Still... I don't think anything will ever be the same". He was thinking of all the lives lost.

"Not for us", Hermione agreed. "As for Hogwart's, the castle has come through quite a lot. Soon, it will fill up with new students who will know what happened only as a legend. I wonder how many will be returning? You coming, Harry?"

"I'll catch up with you later. Some things I need to take care of", Harry replied. He headed towards Hagrid's.

"Harry?", Hagrid answered the knock. "Ah thaw yerd be cummin by".

"I'm just glad you're alright. Being taken by the Dark Lord himself..."

"Aye, I frytenin t'ing it were. Shouldna letum get ter drop on meh. But so's long's ter were dere, Ah knew yerd come t'rough, Harry. Yer an dat wimmin dressed in yeller, who was she inniways? Never seen uh spell quy laik dat?"

"Her name was Sakuyamon. Saved us a couple of times too".

"Another digimon? Ah'll haves ter t'ank er".

"You can't, I'm afraid all the digimon had to leave".

"Where'd dey go?"

"Recalled: to the Digital World".

"Dass inferchinate... How boud uh cuppa herbal tea?"

"Thanks, but not right now. I need to take care of in private, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Aye. Ah shud be specktin ter gouns inniways. Take as long as yer lyke".

Harry fished his broken wand from his mokeskin pouch. The two halves were held together by a single strand of phoenix feather. He set it on the table, and took out the Elder Wand: "Reparo!", he tried the spell.

The two halves snapped together. He flicked the wand, and healthy red sparks flew from the tip, good as new. Only the power of the Master of the Elder Wand could have fixed it. Even Ollivander told him that fixing a broken wand was beyond his considerable skills.

He remembered when Ron tried fixing his broken wand with spell-o-tape. It was this repair that caused the Obliviation spell Gilderoy Lockhart cast in the Chamber of Secrets to preserve his phony reputation and persona to back fire. Lockhart was still in the psych ward of St Mungo's because of that, unable to even recall his own name. Ron had no choice but to replace the broken wand. Harry was more comfortable with his old wand of holly anyway.

He took the Resurrection Stone from his pocket. How much longer it would remain functional was an open question. The Stone cracked when Dumbledore struck the ring with the Sword to break it and free it from that piece of Voldemort's soul trapped within. As he intended to do at the margins of the forest, he turned it three times.

They came, not so substantial as the living, but more solid than ghosts: Lily, James, and Sirius.

"You've become a handsome young man", Lily commented.

"Thanks for saying so, Mum".

"Our only regret was that we weren't there to see you grow up", James added.

"I wish you could have too", Harry agreed. "I got him... last night: Voldemort. Your murderer has finally been brought to justice. You can rest in peace after all these years".

"I hope it wasn't a revenge killing, son", James said.

"It wasn't. He needed to be stopped before he destroyed even more lives. It was the only way. I even tried encouraging him to feel some regret for everything he'd done, a chance to save his soul... He wouldn't take it. I had no other choice".

"Then there's nothing more you could have done", James reassured. "You have nothing to regret".

"You've done us proud", Lily said.

"Sirius, missed you too", Harry said. "We didn't have too long to get reacquainted... Did it hurt?", he asked. He immediately felt foolish for asking so silly a question.

Sirius chuckled: "Dying? Easier than falling asleep. You'll see, but not for a very long time. You have a glorious life ahead of you. Though it would be nice if we could have had more time, I agree with that".

"It's just that... I'm sure there will be children, and grand kids, and it would be nice if you could be there to see..."

"Don't you worry about that", James told him. "We'll always be there with you, even when you can't see us".

"Goes for me too", Sirius agreed.

"Goodbye", Harry could finally say to his parents, "Mum, Dad"

"See you in, oh... about eighty years", Sirius said.

"Goodbye Son, and take care", James said, as he and Lily waved st him.

They faded out. Harry could finally return to his dorm and get that shut-eye. He realized Hermione had been right: he had three very rare and powerful magical artifacts, but they weren't the gifts of Death, only the products of the genius of the Peverell Brothers. He'd reunited all three Deathly Hallows, but didn't see how he'd become any sort of master over death. For now, this would be his personal secret.

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Despite losing his partner, Jadin fell into a dreamless sleep in the Ravenclaw dorms. As soon as he awoke, he was greeted by one of the house elf message runners: "Your presence is requested in Professor Flitwick's office".

"He say why?", he asked through half sleepy eyes.

"All I know is that I was told to bring you to Professor Flitwick as soon as you were awake", the house elf said apologetically. He figured Flitwick wanted to say goodbye, express condolences over the loss of his partner.

"OK, whatever". He pulled on his Ravenclaw robes, and headed for the fifth floor. The signs of the battle still much in evidence, dust still hung in the air, rubble littering the floor. The halls were remarkably vacant, and he figured that desperate parents had been arriving to bring their kids home. Who knows how many academic careers would be derailed? How many families would want to send their kids back to Hogwart's?

Some of the few students he passed stopped to express their condolences over the loss of Impmon. So the boarding school grapevine was as efficient as ever. He knocked lightly at the door.

"Come in Jadin", Flitwick called from inside. So he was expected? As soon as he pushed the door open, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Come in, close the door", he was ordered.

"Tonks? Kingsley?", he asked. Flitwick wasn't alone.

"Jadin", Tonks began to explain, "we're here in our official capacities as aurors...", he wondered what that could possibly mean. "...to be escorted to Azkaban to await proceedings of the Wizengamot..."

"What the FUCK are you talking about?", he couldn't believe he was hearing this. "I didn't do anything!", he protested.

"Ministry orders", Kingsley explained. "The Minister felt it would be for the best if familiar faces handled the matter. However, we are prepared to use whatever force is necessary if should you decide to resist".

One look at Tonks showed him that she was in complete agreement.

"I... I... I... don't understand", Jadin stammered. "My parents... I was expecting to go home later today!"

"You needn't concern yourself over your parents. If you will come along quietly", Kingsley told him.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"

"You'll find out when you appear before the Wizengamot. Now, if you please".

Jadin had no partner, no magical abilities, and no choice. He went under a Body Bind spell. There was nothing to see through the window of the enchanted, flying carriage. Nothing but endless expanses of the North Sea far below. Until, that is, the black, triangular building rose like a column from the sea, waves crashing around its base: Azkaban, the dead end of all dead ends of the Wizarding World. Damage was still evident, but it was still open for business, unfortunately, and likely filling up fast with Death Eaters, all with a score to settle... Jsdin didn't want to think about that.

Jadin was checked in, escorted to a minimum security area.

"Henry! Rita! Yvonne!", Jadin called to his fellow Mentors.

"Nabbed you too, did they?", Terry said.

"What the fuck?", Jadin started.

"Those whachamacallits - that knocked-up gal and that tall dude showed up out of nowhere. Next thing I know, I'm off to this 'Azkaban' I never heard of", Henry explained.

"The aurors, Tonks and Kingsley?"

"Yeah, that's what they called themselves, yeah, those two. Fine way of showing their gratitude, these friends of yours", he said, somewhat of an accusation.

"I wonder just who the hell my friends really are. Now I understand what Aberforth was talking about: his brother played me - us - like a cheap whorehouse piano. Should have known better... God damn that old son of a bitch".

0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Jadin had been kept waiting for well over an hour, more or less, he didn't really know. He was sitting on the bench, outside the courtrooms, next to the Dept. of Mysteries. Far above was the lobby where he and Cyberdramon had first faced off with Voldemort. He was wearing the black and white stripped uniform that all prisoners of Azkaban wore.

Finally, the door opened: "Jadin Weston", the bailiff called out.

"That would be me", Jadin replied.

The bailiff motioned, and he followed. The full Wizengamot was in session. The judges seated high above the floor at the bench, the galleries filled to capacity. The judges were wearing anachronistic, medieval robes and powdered wigs, looking all too much like Jadin's visions of the Inquisition.

The bailiff led him down onto the floor: "Sit down", the bailiff ordered. No sooner had he seated himself, than chains wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles.

"We shall now hear the case of Mr. Jadin Weston", the Chief Justice intoned in that officious, imperious manner of all bureaucrats and other self-important apparatchiks and government yes-men.

"I demand you release these chains!", Jadin protested immediately. "We, the Mentors, pull your fat out of the fire, and this is how you thank us? Fucksamatter with you people?"

There were gasps of shock, calls of outrage, from the gallery. The Chief Justice banged the bench top with a heavy paper weight: "Silence!" The gallery fell silent at once.

"Mr. Weston, you are in no position to be making demands. I will remind you to watch the tone and language with which you address this panel or I will put you under a Silencing Charm. Is that understood?"

"Yes", Jadin replied, forcing calm into his voice. "Your Honour", he added as an after thought.

"As to the specifications: trespass, to wit: Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, the wizarding town of Hogsmeade, and the Department of Mysteries. Five counts.

Impersonating a wizard: one count. How do you answer these charges?"

"These charges are absurd. Professor Dumbledore..."

"Is not here to speak for himself, so that is irrelevant. Do you deny being a muggle?"

"That is not a crime..."

"So you admit ignoring warning signs and Muggle Repelling Charms. As to the second charge?"

"I deny it".

"So you deny this is yours?", he held up the scroll Dumbledore gave him.

"If you bothered to look, you will see it was signed by your own Cornelius Fudge when he was Minister of Magic. So, no, why should I deny it's mine?"

"Ex-Minister Fudge is prepared to testify he signed that decree under duress".

Jadin was having a harder time keeping it under control. He shook his head: "No. That isn't true".

"Are you calling the Ex-Minister a liar?", a rather unpleasant witch retorted. There were murmurs coming from the gallery.

"I'm saying, he's mistaken. Professor Dumbledore..."

"Is irrelevant, you were warned once before about bringing the late Albus Dumbledore into your testimony. You won't be warned again. You have no evidence to offer that the signature was not coerced?"

"No... Your Honour".

"It is the ruling of the Wizengamot that all charges be dismissed forthwith, and that an application for full and unconditional pardon be issued by Minister Thickness. In exchange, you shall be Obliviated, your memories reshaped. After you leave this place, you will have only knowledge of having had a pleasant stay as a temporary resident of the UK".

"You can't do that! Jadin protested. "My friends..."

"Your friends can find new friends. Do not think us completely ungrateful. Future generations of Hogwart's students will learn of what you did. Your place in magical history is assured. However, you will have no such knowledge.

"For your sake, I would like to read to you an extraction of Professor Dumbledore's official report". The judge picked up a parchment, adjusted his reading glasses:

"I find Jadin Weston to be a boy of uncommon intelligence. However, it is not this which concerns me. He is also highly curious, and open to new ideas and experiences. These qualities make him most dangerous. The ease with which he has adapted to Hogwart's most disturbing. I believe that Obliviation will be required before the situation deteriorates beyond our abilities to control them. A more serious threat to the Secrecy Law has never before come to my attention".

"He didn't say that? Can I see it for myself?"

"We have nothing to hide here", the judge motioned to the bailiff, and handed him the document. Jadin saw that it was, indeed, written in Dumbledore's distinctive style.

"He never said anything like that".

"I don't suppose he would. I also have a communique from the Digimon Sovereign". The judge picked up another parchment from the stack before him:

Stipulation 1) It has come to the attention of the Sovereign that there is more to the Material World than we first realized. There exists amoung the community of mankind a subculture styling itself the 'Wizarding World'. The technology adverse nature of the Wizarding Community has prevented us from knowing of its existence.

Stipulation 2) It is the desire, and a matter of policy, that this Wizarding Community does not want its existence known to the population at large.

Stipulation 3) Digimon have demonstrated by affirmative action the ability to interact with said community.

Stipulation 4) It is not the responsibility of the Digital World to break the secrecy of said community.

Resolved: Transit across the Frontier is suspended indefinitely, pending further investigation to resolve the inherent conflict between the Wizarding Community and the Digital World.

Resolved: All digimon now residing in the Material World are subject to immediate recall.

Signed: Qinglongmon, Ebonwumon, and Baihumon,

Jadin felt as though his insides turned to lead. Deceived. Used. Betrayed. Dumbledore had pretended to be a friend, but was just stringing him along. All that talk of bringing the Wizarding World up to date was pure bullshit, and Dumbledore knew it all along. Jadin cursed himself for ignoring that little voice which said that these people were interested in nothing more than Impmon's fighting abilities.

And pissed. These assholes cost him his partner, cost Mentors all over the world their partners. If Potter had listened to Hermione in the first place none of this would be happening. He would have defeated a couple of unknown "digimon".

So what if Lord Voldemort took over the Wizarding World: as far as Jadin was concerned, they deserved him. As far as taking over the Muggle World, the digimon wouldn't let that happen. Hadn't they already proved that?

Still, there was a name missing: Zhuqiaomon. Had he argued in his favour? It seemed highly likely he did. Three to one, but that's better than four to none. Perhaps, Zhuqiaomon could persuade the others to reopen the Frontier?

"Do not think us completely without sympathy", the judge was addressing him. "We know we cost you your partners, and we very much regret that. We know what your ideas are, as they are neither new, and others have thought the same before, and undoubtedly will in the future. It was your desire to bring magic to light, to apply your Scientific Method to magic, to combine science and technology to enhance all three. Perhaps to use technology to bring magic to everyone.

"That has been the sum of all our fears since the lifetime of your Sir Francis Bacon. Oh, it will happen. Of that, we have no doubts whatsoever. It has been seen in prophecies going back to the days of Merlin himself. However, we will do everything in our power to delay the inevitable.

"To be perfectly honest about it, we are very afraid of Muggles. Have you never wondered why there are so many of you, and so few of us? For centuries, wizarding families have had two, maybe three, children, seldom more. Muggles, on the other hand, had many children. Even though they had no doubts whatsoever that some, perhaps most, perhaps all of their children would never see adulthood. Still, muggles continued to fall in love, and start families.

"We have seen Muggles rise to heights, then fall to the bottom of the abyss, only to rise, bigger and better than ever before. We were the first masters of the skies centuries before your Wright Brothers took off from Kitty Hawk. Now, the only footprints on the Moon belong to muggles. Even our Ministers would rather fly British Airways these days.

"You never give up. You scare the living hell out of us".

"I don't see how that's a bad thing? Share what you know. Maybe Lord Voldemort was right about one thing: maybe there can be a better world".

"Jadin, you are an idealist. Dumbledore also mentioned that. You see the world through a filter of boundless optimism. You think the best of everyone. We can't afford your optimism. If you had your way, you would only destroy yourselves. That will not be our responsibility".

Six Months Later

It was another Saturday morning. Jadin lay on his bed, digivice in hand. The LCD screen flashed a message to which he'd grown wearily accustomed to seeing: "Connection Denied".

"Impmon, aren't you ever coming back?", he asked his ceiling.

He switched screens. There was a single message: "Do you remember entering me?" Every Saturday morning his digivice alerted, asking that same question. He'd entered "NO". He scrolled past a long line of "NO's". There were "YES's". When was that? Last summer, about mid-July. Why had he entered such a message? Why had he put it on auto-alert? What was he doing at that time? He was about half way through summer school - special classes to bring him up to speed. English high school was a good deal more demanding than American high school, and he had make-up work to do. He remembered he'd done quite well. He entered the next term well prepared. No one could complain about his grades.

There was that strange Goth he met. Dressed all in black, with hair so blonde it was nearly white. Strange name: Draco Malfoy. Malfoy sounded French, but he was not. Who would name their kid something like Draco, though? He lived with his mother in a cottage just outside London. Very evasive about a father.

He looked to when the "NO's" began to appear. That was last spring. It was strange: they'd been attacked by a newly materializing digimon, and Impmon was supposedly killed. He remembered cradling the broken body. There was blood everywhere... except that that never happened to digimon. Impmon would have disappeared in a cloud of unorganized data. It made no sense, and couldn't have happened the way he remembered. Impmon had to be in the Digital World, but how did he get there?

Connection Denied: never anything else. He was getting through, alright. Who was denying his connection? The Violet Zone? The Digimon Sovereign? That Impmon may have made the connection on his end private was unthinkable. Surely, he would want to see and talk with his partner, even if only by audio-visual.

So many questions, so few answers.