AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the first thing in a long, long time that I've believed worthy of being posted, so please bare with me; it's been a while. Despite not knowing how long this fic will end up being, or how exactly I'm going to get it from point A to point B, I do have it pretty much plotted out, so hopefully writing it will go quickly and smoothly. I can't guarantee quick updates, or even regular updates for that matter, but I will try to get it typed up and posted as soon as I finish it. I've taken to writing things by hand now, and typing them up later. Easier to keep track of all my notes that way, as I have been known to write in the margins and doodle out stupid little pictures for parts that are playing in my head.

This story takes place about fifteen years after 'Order of the Phoenix', so it includes spoilers up to and including the fifth book. I will most likely reference 'Half-Blood Prince' as well, using terms and spells, and possibly some events as well, but Harry's sixth year did not happen that way in this fic. It was started before HBP came out, and this chapter was nearly finished before I finished reading HBP, so I am not making that book part of this fic's history.

As always, reviews are appreciated.

Teek

PS: Cyrenes is pronounced 'S-er-Eh-nays'.

DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all related characters. I am merely borrowing them for fan fictional purposes and the entertainment of this story's readers. They will be returned to the pages of their own books once I'm done with them, unharmed and untainted.

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The Merlin Chronicles

by T.K. Yuy

Prologue- The Return

He hated flying coach. There was no leg room, and the food left much to be desired. Of course, there was the whole process of getting your tickets, and getting your luggage checked through customs, and then boarding the plane. He just hated flying, period.

But no matter how much he hated it, this was one trip that had to happen sooner or later.

He sighed, pushing his dark hair out of his face, and looked over at the blonde head that rested on his shoulder. He smiled tiredly and laid back. There were still four hours left to their flight, and he was no-where near ready for the drain this trip would be. He'd anticipated it, but he knew he wasn't ready for it.

"Ten years," he thought," I wonder how many little ones they have now."

-----

He had to laugh at his little girl as she whipped her head around to look at every little thing, and he knew she'd sleep well when they got back to the hotel. He hadn't anticipated taking her on a 'tour' of the city, but he had a few errands to run, and she'd all but cried when he said they wouldn't be in town long enough to see the sights, so naturally, he gave in.

"Can we go see Big Ben now, dad?" she asked, tugging on his hand.

"We're in the wrong part of the city, Cyrenes, so no, we can't go see it now. I'll take you before we leave in a few days."
"Why do we have to leave so soon? I like London."
"So do I, sweetheart, but this isn't the place for us."

She nodded and they walked into the alley they'd Apparate into the hotel from in silence. She knew her father had lots of things to do before they were going to be able to settle down permanently, and she knew that he really wanted to be able to give her a proper home. She was young, sure, but she wasn't stupid, and it wasn't like he kept secrets from her. She knew what was being done and why, and if she were able, she'd help him. This trip was supposed to be strictly business related, and here he'd gone and shown her a lot of the city, despite the risks.

"Dad?" she asked, looking up as he let her hand go.

"What's up hon?"

"Love you."

He smiled at her and pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you too." he replied," Now, off to bed with you. Long day tomorrow, you know."
"You nervous?"
"You know I am."

"Me too."

He ruffled her hair and let her go at the door to her room, bidding her good night, and settled himself in the lounge to catch the evening news. Had he not been so tired, he might have noticed the snowy owl that landed on the balcony.

-----

The next morning, he woke to the gentle shaking his daughter was giving him, and slowly sat up. Like the morning before, his head was killing him, and it made his vision blurry, despite the fact that he had his glasses on. He downed the glass of water she handed him and thanked her, standing carefully.

"Is it bad, dad?"

"The same as yesterday. I'll be alright. Have you eaten?"
"No. Didn't know what you wanted to do."
"Why don't you go in and take a shower, and I'll order something up for us."
"Okay."

She gave him a hug and a kiss and skipped off to the bathroom, humming happily to herself. He frowned and picked up the room service menu. He really wasn't looking forward to that afternoon, and was even more unhappy about having to expose his daughter to it, but he didn't have many options.

He knew it would happen eventually, and he knew that he would attend, even if he did hate the man for what he put him through. It would be extremely awkward, and it would put him back in the spotlight, if someone were to recognize him. That he could deal with. He was afraid of the effect it would have on his little girl more than anything, but she had told him that she wanted to be there, and that she would be okay. He'd trained her for the onslaught of magic that she'd experience; he just hoped she really was ready.

"Breakfast here?"
"Not yet, sweetheart. Should be any minute tho'. Come here, I'll do your hair."
"Can you do the braids?"
"Sure."

"Can I wear my Wednesday dress?"
"I wouldn't have let you pack if I didn't think it was appropriate."
"Yay!"

-----

A light rain had started falling earlier that morning, and he was thankful that he'd remembered to bring the umbrella. If the shaking of his hands was any indication, it would change into a downpour once they got up the hill.

Silverstone Memorial was one of the few Wizarding cemeteries he'd visited, and this particular part of it was where the more important people were laid to rest. It was beyond ancient and the magics that resided in the earth there were incredibly strong. It was a fitting place for him to be buried.

"Dad, calm down." Cyrenes said quietly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay."

"I know, baby."

They stopped just at the top of the hill, and looked through the crowd of people gathered around the white and silver casket. He saw many familiar faces, all of them grieving, and put an arm around his daughters' shoulders as he spotted a large group of red-heads.

"Who's performing the Rites?"
"Alastor Moody. An Auror."

She nodded and leaned into her father as they continued to observe. She'd been to funerals before, but never a Wizarding one. She'd seen in her father's pensieve what they were like, but it was entirely different to actually be to one. The magic was intense, and is she wasn't careful, she was sure it would make her sick to her stomach.

Things were straight-forward, just as he'd expected, and people were soon hugging and sobbing all over each other. As things broke up and people left, he had a better view of the casket. He used a finger to trace a few runes in the air, and nudged his daughter. She looked up at him and then drew her own set. They snapped their fingers twice and the glowing runes disappeared. However, the magical 'snap' of the action caught the attention of one of the remaining Witches.

Cyrenes' grip tightened on her father's hand as the Witch's gaze landed on them, and she inched closer to him. He put an arm around her protectively and met the brown-eyed woman's eyes. She pushed through the group of red-heads around her and stopped as she met an invisible barrier. Everyone was now looking at them. The barrier started to weaken as more people started towards him, looks of disbelief and shock on their faces.

He would've had to of been blind to not see the shock of platinum blonde hair and silver-blue eyes that pushed through the crowd forcefully. His hands shook even more and the skies took that as their cue to open up and let the rain fall in earnest. He turned and started down the path, Cyrenes right beside him.

"Wait." he heard a voice call. "You there, wait!"

His steps faltered for a moment, but he kept walking. Cyrenes turned to look over her shoulder at the blonde man, her eyes darkening as she held a hand up.

"Thicken." she said, and the man was stopped in his tracks.

"That wasn't necessary, Cyrenes."

She shrugged and let him pull her close as they apparated back to the hotel. The umbrella was left on the kitchen floor, and she shrugged out of her robe, laying it over the back of the nearest chair. Her father did the same and then fell to his knees. Magic rolled off him in waves and she took a deep breath before reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, dad. It's over. It's done. We don't ever have to go back now."
"There are still a few things that I need to take care of before we'll be completely safe, honey."
"We'll do them later. You need to sleep."

"No, no, I'm fine. I just need a minute to catch my breath, then we can go."
"Where're we going?"
"Diagon Alley."
"Okay. Let me get our other cloaks. I'll be right back."

He let his shoulders drop as she disappeared into the living room and then his room for their cloaks. He knew she'd recognize him. He would've been stupid to think she wouldn't. He didn't spend twelve years with her and not know her powers of perception. He should've known, however, that she'd be able to pick up the little bit of sound their magic would make. He hadn't anticipated that.

"Or the fact that he would be there." he thought, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck."

"And here you tell me not to curse."

"It's not very becoming of a lady."
"Yeah, yeah. Come on, let's go. Sooner you get this done, the sooner we can go home, right?"
"Right."

He took a deep breath and stood up. His head was still swimming, but he quickly pushed the offending magic away. He wouldn't be undone just by the mere sight of an old friend. He swung his cloak on and helped her fasten hers, and picked up the discarded umbrella. In seconds, they were gone, and walking out of an alley like two people on a mission.

Cyrenes had remembered everything her father'd told her about Diagon Alley, and knew straight away where they were. The large sign saying 'Leaky Cauldron' was a dead give away, as were the strangely dressed people walking in and out of the building. She held her head high and dared a glance up at her father. He nodded to her and with a hand on her shoulder, led her inside.

People looked up at them as they moved through the dining area, and his eyes narrowed. While it still looked like the Leaky Cauldron he remembered, there were obvious modifications. The bar for one, was set up like the pubs in Muggle London, and had Muggle beers as well as the Wizard drafts on tap. The tables and chairs had all been replaced and looked far too new in such an old place, as did the new mirrors. There were no signs of age on any of it, and he was sure they probably had anti-scratch and break charms on them. The biggest change, however, was in the back, where the wall to Diagon Alley was. Used to be, rather. It had been covered in graffiti, and an old phone booth sat in front of it. He was willing to bet that the phone worked like the one into the Ministry of Magic, but that meant he needed to know what the code was to open the door.

"Excuse me." he said, walking up to the old barkeep.

"Yes? How can I help you?" the man replied, setting the glass he'd been cleaning aside.

"The Alley." he motioned to the phone booth, "how long ago was the door changed?"

"Oh, going on seven years now."

"Much has changed since I was last here."
"The Ministry's attempting to modernize. Blame it on the Americans."

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, forgetting that his scar -while very faded- was still visible, and that it was a dead give away.

"3-4-2-4-6-6-2-5-5-3-9 will get you through." the barkeep smiled, his eyes twinkling knowingly.

"Thank you." he took Cyrenes by the hand and turned towards the phone.

"I'm here till close up at ten, if you'll be needing a room." the old man called after them.

A nod and a smile to the barkeep, and they walked into the phone booth, and he punched in the numbers. The back of the booth swung out, and they could walk through, into the bustling street. Cyrenes' eyes were as big as saucers as she took it all in, and he smiled. He wore that same look once, when he was first brought to the alley. He wondered how she'd react to the Goblins when he took her to Gringotts. He may have taught her magic -magic that was beyond children of her age- but she hadn't been exposed to very many of the creatures of the Wizarding World. He'd done what he had to do to keep her safe, and he'd continue to do so. While being seen and probably recognized wasn't part of the plan, he would adjust it accordingly. Nothing was as important as his little girl's safety.

"So, where're we going, dad?" she asked as they rounded a corner.

"Have to see a man about a wand." he replied, holding the door to an old familiar shoppe open for her.

"I will be with you in just a second." a voice called to them, and one of the ladders slid down the shelves to the front of the shoppe. "Ah, I wondered when I might be seeing you again. It's been quite a long time."
"It has. But I'm not here to chat about old times. My daughter needs a wand."

The old man looked from the man to the girl, and blinked. He knew there had been two signatures entering his shoppe, but he'd not expected the mere slip of a girl that stood before him. No, he'd expected someone much older. Much, much older.

"I'm sorry, but I do not know your name." apologized the man, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"I didn't give it to you." Cyrenes replied.

"Cyrenes." her father said," Mr. Olivander has been aiding Witches and Wizards in the purchase of their wands for longer than I care to think about. He knows the name of everyone that walks through his shoppe doors."
"Then why don't you know mine?" her oddly colored eyes challenged the old Wizard.

Mr. Olivander studied the girl for a while, taking in everything about her. He knew who she was related to just by looking at her, and he knew part of her ancestry merely because of who her father was. It was the way she carried herself, and the way she kept her unbelievable magic in check that puzzled him. He wondered if she would be as strong as her father.

"Where were you born, child?" he asked her, walking around the shoppe, down an aisle of dusty wand boxes.

"Glastonbury."

Olivander paused briefly and walked back out to them, taking the dark-haired wizard by the shoulder and pulling him aside.

"She was born in the Abbey?"
"Where else would I have found the one woman able to perform the Rites needed to bear her?"

Cyrenes rolled her eyes as he sighed and scratched his head. She yelped and grabbed her fathers' arm as dust filtered down from the ceiling, both of them watching as one of the tiles floated down slowly. Olivander's eyes narrowed.

"Curious." he said, looking at the tile. "In the time this wand has been in my family's care, not once has it chosen a Witch or Wizard to bear it."

"There's never been a Witch or Wizard like my Cyrenes. At least not in 1410 years."

"You, my dear girl, are quite special indeed. Lignum Vitae, 16 inches, with dragons' whiskers as its core."

He held the wand out to her and the two men waited to see the reaction. She closed her fingers around it and… nothing happened.

"Give it a flick." Olivander said, stepping out of the way.

"Oh, puleez." she rolled her eyes and swirled her new wand carefully. "Nettoyez tous."

A sparkle of green and violet erupted from the wand and swirled around the entire shoppe, eliminating all the dust, dirt, grime and spider webs that made the place so… dreary. Her father just smiled and put a hand on her shoulder, tracing a few runes into the air. Along with Cyrenes' spell, his runes removed the old curtains and put new ones in their place, as well as fixed the cracks in the windows that had been there since before he could remember.

"Now, isn't that better?" she asked, smiling at the old Wizard.
"I think it is safe to say that we can expect great things from you, young lady."

Olivander shook his head at the handful of galleons and sickles being offered to him, and smiled as Cyrenes inspected her new wand. With a nod of understanding, he turned and motioned to the door. Cyrenes thanked Mr. Olivander and slipped her wand up her sleeve into the special pocket for it with practiced ease. She followed him back out into the busy street and towards a large white (and slightly crooked) building. As they passed under the arches, she caught her first glimpse of a goblin, and inched closer to her father. He smiled and leaned down to whisper to her.

"There's no place safer than Gringotts. Goblins guard money and gold like they were life."
"To a goblin, it is, isn't it?"

"In a sense, yes."

They stopped before the tall podium, and looked up at the goblin seated there. It didn't seem to be paying any attention, so her father cleared his throat.

"Here to make a withdrawal." he said, catching the goblins eye.

"You may see the Tellers for such a-"
"I've never seen the Tellers, Griphook, and I'm not about to now."

The goblin blinked at him, and he nodded, recognizing the Wizard that stood before him.

"Key, please." he said, holding his hand out for the small gold key. "Follow me please."

Another goblin took his place as he climbed down the short ladder to lead them through to where they'd catch the next cart to their vault. Cyrenes watched with wide eyes as he readied the cart, and shook her head as her father held a hand out for her to get on.

"No way. Not getting on that thing."
"It's just like a roller coaster, Cyrenes."
"With no over the shoulder safety harness, or seat belt, and it's driven by a goblin, not a computer. It has a manual break, for God's sake!"

"It's perfectly safe, I promise. I've ridden it countless times."
"Nope, sorry."

"I'm not giving you an option. Get on the cart."

She leveled him with her best glare, but knew it wasn't going to work. He'd always been immune to it. So with a sigh, she carefully got onto the cart and white-knuckled the seat as they started down the track. It was pretty straight and narrow, so she could understand the lack of restraints, but she still didn't like it.

"Vault six hundred and eighty-seven." Griphook said, motioning for them to step out, "Lamp please."

He held the lamp up for the goblin as he unlocked the vault, keeping an eye on his daughters' expression as their small fortune came into view. Cyrenes blinked and did a double take before hesitantly stepping into the vault. You didn't get to see your money in Muggle banks; you just got a slip that had your balance on it. And they never really did their banking in the actual bank; most of their transactions were done through the internet, over the phone, or by using a card. It was very rare that she see her father handle actual cash.

"I'll need to have a second card put on my account, Griphook."

"Very well, sir."

"Take a couple hundred, sweetheart. You'll need spending money for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow, dad?"
"You have to do your school shopping, don't you? Or would you prefer I do it?"

She squealed and launched herself into his arms happily. The goblin just rolled his eyes and sat back to wait. If they were going to be counting coins and such, it was going to take a while.

-----

Satisfied with the wards and alarms he'd placed on the room, and with the note and spare mobile on her night stand so she'd know where he'd gone and could get in touch with him should she wake, he headed down to what sounded like a party. From the sound of it, there was quite the crowd. He weaved his way around people on the stairs and headed for the bar, hoping to avoid anyone he once knew that might possibly be around. Unfortunately, his luck was not that good. He spotted a familiar head of red hair and quickly threw a glamour up over his face. They'd have to have better than Auror strength anti-glamours, and be concentrating on him fully to even see part of his real self.

"What can I get you?" the young bartender asked.

"Jack, on the rocks, with just a touch of Odgens."

"Sure thing."

He sipped his drink, watching the festivities. Most of the people here, he remembered from school, and wondered if they had any idea how good they had it. They didn't have to worry about half the things he did, and he was the reason they didn't. He would never deny that, but it was times like these that he really hated them. They had not even the tiniest inclination as to what he'd done for them. What he had allowed be done to him, in order for them to all be free of the evil that still haunted him.

"Hunted is more like it." he muttered into his glass, ignoring the hand that landed on his back as someone tripped into him.

"Great send off for the old man, don't you think?" the man asked him, leaning against the bar next to him.

"Normally the party is held in place of the wake, not after the funeral. There is supposed to be some time for coherent mourning, you know"
"Dumbledore wanted one before and after, so here we are." the man was obviously over his limits on drinks.

"Just like good little lemmings." he rolled his eyes, raising his glass for the bartender to see. "I fail to see how he warrants such grand parties, when all he did was use the people closest to him. Sent most of them off to their own deaths, he did."

He took a cautious look at the man beside him, and sighed. He should've known it would be a Hufflepuff chatting him up. He shook his head and took a sip of his new drink. There was something creeping into the party that he didn't like, and if it was big enough to make him worry, then things would get ugly fast.

"Considering that most -if not all- of the Weasley's are here, as well as some old professors, it's going to be worse than ugly." he thought, turning to watch the crowd.

"If you didn't like him, why're you here?"
"One: It wasn't just that I disliked him; I hated Dumbledore almost more than I hated my Muggle relatives. Two: Despite my feelings towards him, I had to be here. Three: In case you haven't noticed, there's nothing around stating that there was going to be an after funeral party for him. If I'd known, I assure you, Mr. Finch-Fletchly, that I would not be here. If not for the business I must attend to tomorrow, I'd've been gone already. Now," he downed the rest of his drink, put the proper amount of money on the counter for the barkeep, "if you'll excuse me, there's something I must attend to."

He walked away, leaving a confused Hufflepuff to stare after him as he made his way into the center of the crowd. The darkness he'd felt was definitely bigger than he originally thought, and would probably put up a fight. He didn't want to fight anyone or anything now, dark or otherwise, but it didn't look like he had too much of a choice. He saw a small group of men and women sitting around a table in the back, all dressed in black, and all wore robes that were very familiar to him. How they managed to slip into the party with no-one noticing them, he didn't know, but then again, he really didn't care. They were here, and he was here, and he was going to take care of the situation. He walked over to the table and pulled up a chair, causing all of them to look at him.

"You looking for someone in particular, or will anyone do?" he asked, eyes narrow as he crossed his arms and glared at them.

"This is a private table, so I suggest you leave, bub." one of the two men said, wand sliding easily from his sleeve into his hand.

"Honestly, why must your lot always resort to violence? Don't you people know how to be civil?"

He let his glamour melt away, and ran a hand through his hair, eyes flashing. The two women at the table backed up with a hiss, and the men merely stood up. He rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair.

"Look, I'm not here looking for a fight." he said, picking up the pack of cigarettes on the table, "You brought something here with you that has no right being in this world, and I just want you to send it out."

"And you think we'll just up and leave because you said so, is that it?" one of the women sneered.

"Either that, or I'll make you leave, with your tails between your legs," he lit up a cigarette and tossed the pack back onto the table, "or in a body bag, it makes no difference to me."

"Make us leave?" the larger of the two men laughed.

"Odds are against you, Potter." added the second man.

"A duel it is then. You clear the floor and I'll call my second down."

They all looked at him like he was crazy when he pulled his cell phone out and waved at them in a shooing manner, as if he were scolding a child. The men glared at him, but the women dragged them into the crowd. One of them cast a quick levitation spell on her, and a Sonorus charm, aiming to catch every ones attention.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she said, smirking, "there's no reason to be alarmed. We've got a bit of entertainment planned for you, so if you'd all be so kind as to clear the floor, we'll get started."

He chuckled as she flashed her Dark Mark, and finished explaining to Cyrenes what was happening. She was telling him to hang up and let her put her shoes on, so he did. He was glad she was excited.

"This will be good practice for her." he thought, looking over at the group of old friends and professors that were trying to push through the crowd to get to where the four Death Eaters were standing. "No, don't think so."

A quick flick of his wrist and he'd made it impossible for them to draw their wands, and honed his hearing into their conversation.

"What the hell is going on?" he heard Ginny growl, "I can't see anything through all these people."
"I'm sure we'll be able to see whatever they're planning." Seamus Finnigan's familiar borough said darkly.

"Will we just see it or will we be part of it?" wondered Ron, tugging on his wand.

"The signature on this magic is the same as the man from the cemetery, Severus." Hermione pointed out, putting a hand affectionately on the old potions master's arm.

"We don't know who that man or the girl with him was, so don't jump to conclusions, dear." Snape reasoned.

"It is very similar to his, you know it-"
"It will not do anyone any good to stand here and argue over whether or not that was Harry; if the signature's are the same, then it's safe to say that man is working with the Death Eaters." Charlie interrupted. "Why else would he have prevented us from drawing our wands?"

He chuckled at Charlie's logic, and had to admit that in a way, he was working with the Death Eaters. He was, by putting a hold on everyone else's wand, eliminating the chance of interference in their friendly little duel. He saw Cyrenes start down the stairs and through the crowd and smiled brightly as he caught her eye. She'd dressed very appropriately for the occasion. The Death Eaters had the center of the room cleared now, and were each concentrating in a different corner of the space open. He had to give them credit; not many would be willing to risk using as much energy as they were to call something as significant as the duel platform he knew they were calling.

"Summoning things via apparition is dangerous, isn't it Dad?" Cyrenes asked, coming to stand beside her father as the table shimmered into being.

"If you don't have the power or the skill to do it, then yes, it's extremely dangerous. If there weren't four of them, and the lesser demon that's been floating around, I would've thought they were crazy. But they're all old enough to know how to tap into the power their Marks allow them."

She nodded, and followed him up the steps to stand by the four. The men cocked an eyebrow at the two of them, and he could hear the Weasley's and the group they were with cry out as he walked around the platform, inspecting it. He snorted at the large blood stain on the green accent flags, and the stain on the floor, but didn't say a word.

"Meet your satisfaction?" one of the women cackled.

"It hasn't changed since I was last here." he replied. "Well, it changed a little. Your former master's not standing on it."

"Soon you won't be either." laughed one of the men.

"I'll take on the men. Cyrenes, you can have the ladies."

"Ladies? I see a Veela and a Harpy half-blood, but no ladies." his daughter smirked, green eyes sparkling a bit more purple than usual.

"Why you little bi-"
"I'll tell you now, you can't win this." Cyrenes sighed, pulling her wand from the holster on her hip and flicking it in their direction, "'Cause you're way too slow."

Their wands were whipped out of their hands and neatly into her open hand before either of the women could react. Her father laughed and held a hand up, causing the Silencing charm and the Difindo charm thrown at him to disperse around them in a flurry of blue and white sparks. The women had taken their true forms, causing the crowd to make even more of a fuss, and were using their raw magic to throw all kinds of spells at Cyrenes. Her own shield was holding up nicely, and she showed it off by removing her cloak and stretching, her black vinyl pants and top reflecting the colored sparks. He did the same, knowing that his current robes were easily recognizable by his old friends.

"They really are pathetic." she said, turning to her father. "May I, please?"
"You may."

"Thank you."

She drew many runes with her new wand, giggling at the brighter colors they took than when she drew them with her fingers, and set them rotating slowly. Their rotation grew faster and faster, and before any of the Death Eaters (or anyone in the crowd) could discern what they were, they merged into one, and a giant rune circle appeared on the duel platform. The blood that had been there for ages now, started to shimmer a deep red and her father laid his own set of runes over her circle, drawing the energized blood into the center.

"What in the…" he heard Hermione and McGonagall breath.

An ear-piercing scream could be heard growing louder and louder, and the Death Eaters gripped their left forearms in pain as they doubled over. The dark mark appeared in the center of the circle, and shadows from around the room were pulled into it, solidifying into the form of the demon the Death Eaters were planning on bringing into the Mortal world. Cyrenes twirled her wand expertly, drawing a locking rune, and the beast was now in a cage of white light. Her father hissed at the Dark Mark, and the snake depicted in it rose, heading straight for the Death Eaters. Their marks were burned off as the snake surged through each of them, before it returned to the Mark. Before returning completely into the skull, the snake looked up at the caged demon. Its eyes flared and it reared up, grabbing the cage, dragging it back down with it. The skull seemed to laugh, opening its mouth and swallowing both the cage and the demon whole. The entire summoning circle glowed white, dissolving slowly, as did the Dark Mark.

The crowd was absolutely silent as the two inspected their work, picked up their discarded cloaks and walked up to the Death Eaters. The four looked up at them with pleading eyes, and both father and daughter looked at each other.

"You're getting off easy." Cyrenes said darkly, her eyes slowly fading from violet back to their normal emerald. "I'd've preferred to send you to join your Master, but oh well."

"That's enough, Cyrenes." her father chided, his eyes sparkling with raw magic. "You know the rules."
"Rules are meant to be broken."

"My rules are not, and we will discuss your disrespect later."

She shut her mouth and stepped back, putting her wand away. She knew better than to argue with her father, especially when he was calling and controlling things so much stronger than she could. She quickly scanned the room, and found the group of Weasleys and old professors her father had bound, and snorted. They were staring at them like they'd seen a ghost (which she had to agree with), and there were a few trying desperately to get their wands out of their holsters, pockets or sleeves.

"Hm… looks like he's the only one not trying to do anything." she thought, looking back over her shoulder at her father. "I wonder…"

She quickly tuned her father's magic out and caught the dark-eyed man's gaze. She hadn't anticipated the force of the push of magic he threw at her, and flung her own back at him without hesitation. He took a quick step back as it hit him, but never broke the eye contact, and tried to push more.

"I don't think so, Professor." she told him, smirking as she tossed a quick succession of memories at him.

He attempted to block, and succeeded for a few seconds, before the most important flash of memory was thrown at him. He gasped, stumbled backwards, and was quickly enveloped in a sea of red-heads. Cyrenes laughed at him.

"You're good, but I'm-"

She didn't get to finish the thought as she was forcibly pulled out of his mind, and blown backwards across the platform. She saw the Death Eaters tied up and bound by magical ropes, and then looked at her father. His eyes were nearly black now, and she could see the magic around him.

"How dare you invade his privacy!" he hissed at her, letting his power hit her shields threateningly.

"He started i-"
"No, he most certainly did not!" he didn't care that she'd started to pull higher magics to boost her shields. "I am aware of every little thing going on in this establishment, and out on the street, so don't you dare try to tell me he started it."
"But he di-"
"He was pushing at me, and quite enjoying the challenge of trying to get through my wards. You interrupted and threw yourself into his mind. You didn't ask permission, nor did you even seem to care that he wanted you out."
"I didn't fe-"
"You were not taught Occulmency and Legimency to abuse the power, and you most certainly were not taught to disregard others privacy."
"Dad, I-"

"No more. We are done, Cyrenes. You are grounded until further notice. Hand over your wand."

"But dad!"
"I said hand it over!"

He shattered her shields and it scared her. She'd never pissed him off so badly that he would risk getting so close to physically harming her. She stood up carefully, not wanting to risk running into rampant energy, and pulled out her wand, offering it to him formally. He snatched it away from her and the energy in the room dropped drastically, his eyes returning to normal as people found the spells placed upon them were removed. The Weasleys and their group were pushing through the crowd that was trying desperately to leave, and he threw a cold look over his shoulder at them.

"I would not advise getting any closer, Mrs. Snape." he said, voice leaving no room for argument as he turned his attention back to his daughter. "Get up stairs."
"Dad, I'm so-"
"I'm not the one you need to apologize to. I will not tolerate such behavior, and if I have to do this again, you will not get off so lightly. Do you understand?"
"Yes."

"Good. Now go."

Cyrenes nodded and hung her head as she started off the platform. The crowd that remained parted for her, and watched her carefully as she stopped at the top of the stairs and turned around.

"I understand perfectly, dad. Lesson learned." she shot at him, with a mental bow. "I won't underestimate my opponent again."

"Good." he replied. "You held up well. You've completed your rune training."

"Thanks."

She caught Snape's eyes and let the violet in her eyes flash.

"I'm sorry." she said aloud, and turned on her heel to return to their room.

When she was out of sight, he let his eyes flare back up a bit as he turned to the group of shocked people standing behind him. He knew right away that Hermione and Snape recognized him, and it was slowly dawning on most of the others who it was they were looking at, but his immediate attention was on his old Potions Master. The mans' shields were shaking, and his hands followed suit.

"Sit down, Professor, before the shock sends you to the floor." he said, conjuring up a chair with a flick of his wrist and roll of his eyes.

"You fucking ba-" Hermione started, flying forward, wand drawn and aimed.

"Thicken." he said, holding a hand up. "I told you not to get any closer. For the safety of your…" he cocked his head and studied her for a moment, "second child, I hope you listen."

She backed down instantly, and fell into the chair at appeared behind her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were looking at her with concerned looks on their faces, Ron was as white as a ghost, Ginny quickly grabbed Seamus' hand, and Snape sat down next to his wife, taking her now trembling hand in his own.

"I am in no mood to answer a thousand and one questions, nor do I want to disrupt your lives. Unfortunately, I think it's a little too late for the latter, and I do owe you some sort of explanation, I suppose." he said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. "So I will meet you all at Hogwarts on the thirty-first, after I conclude my business here in London, and the American's will have had more than enough time to cut through all the red tape with the Ministry. If that doesn't work for you, then you're shit out of luck, because that's all I'm giving you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bit more reprimanding and grounding to do before I go to bed. The platform will remove itself once you've all gotten off it, and all damages will be taken care of once the doors are locked behind you. Good-night."

He turned on his heel and started up the stairs, robes disappearing in a flurry of red and gold sparkles, revealing the plain black and brown robes he had been wearing earlier. Ron took that as his cue.

"When'd you get so damn cold?" he spat.
"Ask your Minister of Magic." was the only reply they got as he turned and finished up the stairs.

The whole group was silent, before the Weasley clan erupted into a heated argument about the happenings. The professors joined in, and even Hermione got to her feat to make her own point, leaving Snape sitting in the chair, head in his hands. It wasn't until Arthur put a hand on his shoulder that he was brought back to reality.

"Enough." he said, yet no-one stopped shouting. "Enough!"

They turned to look at him and he stood up slowly, using the back of the chair for support.

"I'm having lunch with the Minister tomorrow." he told them, and Hermione moved to stand next to him.

"And you're just going to tell him 'Harry Potter said to-"

"That girl, his daughter, gave me information that the Minister needs to know."

"And what about us?" demanded Molly.

"You will all be told what I know, after he is notified."

"We were that boy's family!" the irate witch shouted.

"Yes, but there were others he considered himself closer to, before he left, and now he has a daughter that he's willing to kill for, Molly." Minerva interjected, "You go and speak to him tomorrow, Severus. If all goes well, you'll tell us all about it after, I'm sure."

He nodded and offered his wife his arm, escorting her out of the pub. The others followed, but he knew he'd have some major explaining to do once they got home.

No-one noticed the bright green eyes that watched from one of the rooms over looking the street, or the shadows that crept into the Leaky Cauldron as they all left…

TBC…