The Dawning Of … A New Night

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and NCIS belong to their respective creators, J.K. Rowling and Donald P. Bellisario. I’m not making any profit from this story.

Author’s Note: This story was written for EmyPink, her gift for the Secret Santa Exchange: 2009 Edition on NFA. I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks to:

Augrey07, aka Liz, for beta reading this story, I couldn’t have done it without you. I hope you enjoyed reading and editing it as much as I did writing it.

Channeld, aka Pam, for putting together a wonderful SeSa this year, it couldn’t have been easy, and you did a fabulous job!

*Chuck Bellicosa and *Vivian Grant, my muses and biggest supporters. Thank you for being with me every step of the way, and making sure I didn’t panic, too much, over my “big assignment.” Hugs and Kisses, I am in your debt.

Without all of you, this story would not be here, so I thank you from the bottom of my toes to the top to my full head.


Chapter One

The air had a stillness about it that told of the calm before the storm. The few unfortunate souls who were outside were rushing to get inside for shelter, in their cars, houses, trains, any place that was warm and, hopefully, pleasant, unlike the outside weather. It was clear to all this was going to be a monstrous rainfall, with howling winds and stormy clouds. Yes, no one would want to be outside when this storm hit.

The calmness the sky now displayed seemed surreal, almost like a mirage. If the weather had not been acting up for days, the people of Washington, D.C., would probably be outside, enjoying a day with no wind. As it were, the climate had been acting so temperamental; people were locked up tight in their homes, stocked up on supplies. Shelters were already full, with more homeless citizens begging to have a roof over their head during the approaching storm. It was shaping up to be a nasty winter.

Suddenly, just as quickly as a tsunami exploding on the shoreline, the darkening sky was lit with lights of shadows, taking the shape of an all too familiar mark of a hidden world, one worn on the left arm of the followers of one of the world’s biggest monsters. Howling winds could be heard, and thunder and lightning, crashed down on the city below. Up in the night sky, the moon was blocked from view by the darkness falling, but not before the shape of the mark could be seen in all its glory. The Dark Mark was on display for all to see.

The crackling laughter belonging to the followers of the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters, as they watched with glee while their Master’s sign burned into the sky, was a sound Shelly, a young homeless girl, who had not made it to a shelter in time, would never, ever forget. A sound that consisted of pleasure, a sound showing one is pleased with the suffering of others, a sound that told of one getting off on another’s pain, in short, all that was wrong with this world.

Unluckily for Shelly, as the people dressed in dark cloaks and wearing silver masks started to regroup, one noticed her.

It was a woman, one with a mad look in her eyes, the same look that showed in her voice when she had let out that harrowing sound. Her hair was the blackest of black, and her face was contorted with disgust. Shelly could tell this woman, if she could be called that, had been beautiful on the outside once. Now, her looks hinted at what lay beneath what one might mistakenly say was a lost beauty, but her eyes matched her soul, if she even had one. They showed how it was so mangled, broken, twisted, warped, and cut beyond repair, it was simply a horrifying darkness, a soul that had given itself to the Devil. This woman was Bellatrix Lestrange; one of the Dark Lord’s most devoted followers.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, a homeless little Muggle?” She crooned, her voice was filled with disgust, it made Shelly’s skin crawl, as she walked up to her. Shelly tried to move, to run, but they had surrounded her. There was no way out. She vowed, as she saw the woman look at her with fury in her eyes that she would die with dignity. There was no doubt in Shelly’s mind that she was going to die. Now, she just hoped the woman would do what she wished to her, and spare any others.

Shelly knew by her eyes, the one thing she kept looking at the whole time as pain like she had never felt before spread through her body, as she screamed from the agony, as tears blurred her vision, while these monsters spend hours torturing her, when the last thing she saw as the woman lifted up a long stick and shouted “Avada Kedavra,” was that she was not this woman’s first victim, nor would she be her last.

Bellatrix Lestrange and the other Death Eaters were so absorbed in their perverse fun, laughing at Shelly’s pain, and Shelly’s last moments, as her body landing in a crumbled heap, devoid of life, of suffering, forever, that they did not hear the soft ‘pop’ that signaled the arrival of someone. Oh, what a mistake, he thought. The person seemed to be cloaked in shadows, they gathered around him, blocking his features. Just the way he wanted it. As the group in front of him laughed and cackled, wee hawed, and shouted, he quietly walked forward.

Bellatrix was admiring her handiwork, a look of delight on her face. The others were so involved in being pleased with her, or talking amongst themselves about all the muggles they would kill, that they did not notice him. He noticed that Snape did, but he said nothing. He filed that away for later reflection.

The man cloaked in shadows silently walked forward. Anyone who realized he was there became deathly quiet, unwilling to set this man off. He had shown them he was not above torture, though he seemed to prefer mind games. One could never be sure with someone in this group, though.

If Bellatrix noticed the silence, she paid it no attention. She just kept on dancing to the insane tune that only made sense to her and her alone. This gave him plenty of space to walk up behind her, a feat not many could, or would do.

He surveyed the dead teenage girl lying on the cold, wet ground with an impassive eye. Homeless for a few years, by the looks of it, and it seemed she had had a very hard life. Her body was twisted at an odd angle, blood covering most of her flesh. Tears tracks were clearly visible on her cheeks, oh, yes; Bella had done quite a job on this unfortunate soul.

“Having fun, Bella?” He whispered to her softly. She spun around, her eyes wide. Attempting to cover up what she knew she should not have done, she bowed.

“My prince?” She winced, hoping her punishment would not get back to her Lord. Apparently the Dark Prince had other ideas.

“Was something not clear about your instructions, Bella?” His voice was barely a whisper, and that never ended well. “Did I not tell you to Apparate here and wait for me? Nothing else, remember? Or do you think you are in charge now?” He waited, knowing that any physical punishment he could give her would be nothing as compared to being dressed down in front of her fellow Death Eaters.

“But,” Bellatrix started to say.

“No buts, Bella. I’ll let the Dark Lord deal with you when we return. Can you contain yourself until then, or do you need to sit this mission out?” His voice was taunting, making it very clear that he had the power over her.

Bellatrix’s face flamed at the indignity of it all. “No, my Prince.”

“No, what, Bella?” was the mocking response her answer received. Laughter was echoing in the air at Bellatrix’s expense. Her face was flushed in embarrassment and anger. Oh, how she longed to take her wand out and curse them all. But she didn’t, seeing as she was in enough trouble with the Dark Lord’s new second in command. He had proved he was ruthless, and she did not have the same loyalty to him that she did to the Dark Lord, not enough to make herself go through anymore of his “punishments” then she had to.

“No, I do not need to sit out, my Prince,” she growled. He laughed at her, a chilling, harrowing sound.

“Good to know, Bella,” was all he said. The Dark Prince surveyed the group in front of him. “Enough chit chat, its time to do what we came for.” This got a huge cheer, which he allowed for a moment then cut off with a look. The group quickly fell silent once more. “Does everyone remember their orders?” He received nods from all around.

He smiled a spine-shivering smile. “Let’s get this show on the road.” ‘Pops’ filled the air as the Death Eaters and their acting leader apparated to their destination.

Anacostia Naval Station stands straight across from the Anacostia River and Fort McNair. It houses The Defense Information Systems Agency's, also known as DISA, The White House Communications Agency, and Navy housing office. This is one of the most important Navel bases in Washington, D.C., if not the whole United States. It should come as no surprise that the Death Eaters chose this particular place of all the ones in Washington, D.C., seeing as it had such an important government job, but not as high, as, say, the Pentagon.

‘Pops’ filled the air once more, as the Death Eaters arrived at their target. As the guards around the gate moved to pull their weapons, they were cursed dead immediately. Seeing as how this base could not sense magic, the Death Eater’s were now free to make mindboggling damage. Death Eaters, like terrorists, love to reek senseless acts of random violence.

A magical perimeter of 30 miles of Washington D.C., facing away from the river, was set up for maxim impact. A single curse rang through the air, the voice speaking belonging to the man of shadows, the Dark Prince, “Fiendfyre!” As the Death Eaters watched with glee, a wave of what seemed to be demonic fire, burned through the base, in the opposite direction of where they were standing.

Screams could be heard from the few people who could see this possessed element coming, before they too were lost in its unforgiving path. Watching and waiting until the screams of the burned, and burning, alive were out of earshot, he turned to face the group.

“The night is still young, Diagon Alley, anyone?” He asked, a blood curdling smirk on his features. With cackles and laughs, they took off once more, leaving what was to be an icy winter, as hot as the depths of hell.

The Dawning… Of a New Night


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and NCIS belong to their respective creators, J.K. Rowling and Donald P. Bellisario. I’m not making any profit from this story.

Author’s Note: This story was written for EmyPink, her gift for the Secret Santa Exchange: 2009 Edition on NFA. I hope you enjoy it!


Chapter Two


In the Oval Office


“Ring, Ring…”

“President Obama speaking, what is the situation Minister Scrimgeour?”

“The “nuclear attack” that you’ve no doubt heard about is the work of Death Eaters, you need to call in Aurors, and lots of them. I’m sending in my best, and I have gotten in contact with the rebellion group’s leader. He’s sending as many people as he can spare. There was an attack in Wizarding London, last night. It seems they did them back to back.”

“It wasn’t a nuke? There were no survivors for the whole thirty miles. Why didn’t you alert me in advance?”

“Because our source only knew about the attack on London, he claims to have no knowledge of any plans to attack anywhere in the U.S.A. Hell, he says that he was under the impression that the Death Eaters wanted nothing to do with your country.”

“And you believe him? You make it sound like he isn’t one of them; does he not have the Dark Mark on his arm?”

“President Obama, I have thought all of these questions as well. The rebellion leader assures me he is on our side.”

“Do you trust this leader’s word?”

The phone is silent on the other end for what seems a long time. Finally Minister Scrimgeour coughs.

“I think we will all end up dead if we don’t listen to Dumbledore.”

The President is silent. He has heard of this mystical man, rumored to be as great or better than Merlin himself, has heard that he is the light side’s greatest champion, and that he was the person who organized the group that saved the world from this madman last time. That doesn’t mean he likes leaving his country in another man’s hands, especially one with so much power. He has no choice, not if he wants to make it through this, if he wants his daughters and wife to.

“How soon can his people show up?”

He can hear the sigh the Minister lets out.

“Tomorrow afternoon. Which Aurors are you using?”

“Aurors? You mean my ghost-catchers?” The President attempts to make a joke.

“I think that they would prefer to be called what they really are, President Obama. They’re dark wizard catchers; you should not joke about the dangers of their job.” The Minister of Magic is highly offended.

The President sighs, why he even bothers to try and lighten things up is beyond him.

“Never mind Minister, it was a slip of the tongue.”

“Now, back to business, you know I don’t make that decision. Secretary of Magical Defense Morrow does. We’re going to have to bring in some Muggle authorities.”

“The Statue of Secrecy says…”

“You’re forgetting, Minister, that is a European Wizarding Law. Our constitution says that if needed, the Wizarding World can be revealed to Muggles in times of crisis.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“I believe Director Morrow knows just the team…”


Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix

Resistance Group against Lord Voldemort

Nymphadora Tonks, Ministry of Magic Auror, and Order of the Phoenix member, who if you did not want to be cursed with the bat bogey hex, you would just call Tonks, could not believe it when Dumbledore came into the living room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place with her boss, Rufus Scrimgeour walking next to him. She raised her wand; ready to defend the children upstairs if need be, all around her, everyone else was doing the same.

Dumbledore seemed old and weary, an expression she was not used to seeing on the Headmaster. She could not blame him; the fight at Diagon Ally had left three of their people gravely wounded. And the only reason that only three people ended up gravely injured, no one dead, and a few bumps and bruises on the others, was because they had advanced warning. Then there was the attack on American soil. The Death Eaters were getting braver, going where they would not have dared to, just a few months ago.

“Calm down now, I have invited the Minister here to talk with us about the situation that occurred in the United States two nights ago. “

“Are you out of your bloody mind, Albus, inviting him here!? How do you know he’s not working for the Dark Lord?” Alastor Moody, former head Auror, shouted what they were all thinking.

Dumbledore turned to the Minister of Magic.

“Your left arm, please, Rufus,” he asked calmly.
Glaring at Mad Eye Moody, the Minister of Magic pushed up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing, smooth, unblemished skin.

“Is that satisfaction enough for you, Alastor?” Dumbledore’s tone made it clear he wasn’t asking. Mad Eye Moody grudgingly nodded.

“The Minister has been in contact with the President of the United States, and their Director of Magical Defense. I assume you know why. The President has asked that six people with more experience fighting the Dark Lord come join forces with his Aurors. In exchange, he would send six of his Aurors to be better trained here.

If you should want to go to America and fight, then you need to know it will be a long mission, there is no knowing how long, and must be handled carefully. If you feel you are unable to do it, then do not agree. Once you start, I can not afford to bring you back at unplanned times.

I already have some ideas of who our first choices should be so if you would let me check if you are able to do it. I will answer any questions in a minute.”

Dumbledore’s wise gaze sweeps the room, and I feel a tingle of something I can not explain run down my back.

“Charlie Weasley?”

I see Charlie’s head snap up and Molly start to protest. He seems to think for a minute.

”What about my Dragons?”

I want to laugh so hard at that it isn’t even funny. Charlie and his darn Dragons!

“If you should choose to go, I promise you your dragons will be looked after in Romania.” Dumbledore swore seriously, though there was a hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’ll do it,” Charlie states. Molly is in panic mode by now, and sets about trying to make sure her son stays where he will be safe.

“Charles,” She begins tearfully. Charlie holds up his hand to stop her from talking.

“I need to do this, mum. I’ll be in danger anywhere I go, and better me than Percy, the Twins, Ron, or Ginny, and Bill has a family to look after now. ”

He looks at her, his father, and his older brother. His father simply nods. He understands, he may not like it, but he understands. His brother sends him a thankful look, his hand resting on his wife’s stomach.

Molly Weasley starts crying, looking at her husband for help to keep their family all together and safe. He looks at her, tired and worn.

“He’s right Molly. He’s the best one out of all of us for this mission.” Not sparing his sniffling wife another glance, he focuses on who is next to be called.

Seeing that his father has dealt with his mother for the moment, Charlie sits back down, and waits for the next person.

“Minerva?”

Now everyone’s head snaps up. Professor McGonagall? She wouldn’t, would she? The woman in question sighs and holds up a bag. “You know that I already said yes, Albus.”

Dumbledore smiled at his deputy head mistress, and nodded. “Indeed, I do, just wanted to check.” She sighs again, and gives him a look that says to get on with it.

“Sirius Black?”

It was then that Tonks noticed her cousin was absent. As the occupants of the room looked around, Sirius came through the door, his godson, Harry Potter following behind him. Each held a bag in their hand.

“Bloody hell, no, Albus! I may not be able to stop Charlie from going, but Harry’s just a boy! Are you trying to lure the Dark Lord to him? And you Sirius, how can you agree to this?!” Molly Weasley had had it.

Surprising everyone, it was Harry that spoke up, not Sirius, not Dumbledore, but Harry.

“Mrs. Weasley, I know you think that I would be safer hidden here or at Hogwarts, and I know you are not alone in that belief, but the raw truth is I’m never going to be safe from Voldemort. Even in Hogwarts he has managed to get to me; it is only a matter of time before someone fails to show up in time to save me. If I go on this mission, I can learn what I need to defeat Voldemort once and for all. And if something does happen to me, I went down doing what I thought was necessary. Please, I don’t expect you all to like it, but try to understand.”

Harry looked every person in the eye while he spoke, and when he stared into hers, Tonks felt like she was seeing him for the first time. More then likely, she was. This was the Harry that had stayed hidden, that didn’t come out for fear of rejection, but this Harry no longer had that choice. This Harry was taking charge and Merlin help anyone who tried to stop him. She smiled at him, and for the briefest of seconds, he smiled back.

“So, both of you are coming?” Professor McGonagall asked, and when Harry and Sirius nodded, she mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “Wonderful! Now I’ll never get any rest.”

“Nymphadora Tonks?”

Tonks felt the room spin around her, and heard Remus sigh. She knew he knew what she would say, and it would kill him not to be there with her.

“Yes, I’m coming, Sir.” Tonks felt her heart break as she realized this might mean she could go months, years, she could even die, without being able to see Remus. She had to do this though; she had to make the world safer for the next generation.

Dumbledore had an enigmatic smile on his face as he looked at her. He looked around the room, grinned wider, and then called out the last name.

“Remus Lupin?”

Remus didn’t seem to notice that Albus had called him at first, but Tonks had. Remus was coming with her? That would solve… The thought died in her mind. As much as she wanted him to, it wasn’t safe, for anyone. She was about to nudge him, when Sirius spoke up.

“Remus, mate, get your head out of the clouds!” He barked at his best friend.

Remus snapped his head up, looked around and seeing the looks on everyone faces, asked what they where all thinking.

“What?” Dumbledore just smiled at him.

“I asked, if you are willing to go on the mission?”

Remus’ face darkened. Why was Ablus asking him that? Everyone knew he couldn’t go because of his “furry little problem.”

“Did I forget to mention what else the Minister is here for? He has ever so graciously gotten us hold of an advancement of the Wolfsbane potion. It went through trials in America and has had wonderful results. You won’t transform, Remus, you would take the potion and sleep for the three days of the full moon.”

Remus looked like he could not believe it. Here it was what he had been waiting his whole life for, a cure to this curse. He had three things to ask first before agreeing, though.

“Would I feel anything? Can I still harm people? Are you releasing this to everyone, or is it a bargaining tool?”

Dumbledore turned to the Minister of Magic. He stood up and looked right at Remus.

“You won’t feel a thing, you can’t harm anyone if you take it on time, and yes, we were waiting on America, we received permission to use the invention three days ago.”

Remus’ gaze shifted to her, and she gave him the tiniest of nods. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“I’ll do it. When do I need to be packed?”

Dumbledore grinned, the twinkle temporally back in full force.

“I suggest you get ready now, you leave in eight hours.” He turned to go, and then turned back. “Good luck. Behave with the Muggles.” He walked off, humming.

Charlie Weasley, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Tonks, and Remus Lupin looked at each other in shock.

“MUGGLES?”

The Dawning… Of a New Night

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and NCIS belong to their respective creators, J.K. Rowling and Donald P. Bellisario. I’m not making any profit from this story.

Author’s Note: This story was written for EmyPink, her gift for the Secret Santa Exchange: 2009 Edition on NFA. I hope you enjoy it!


Chapter Three


Officer Ziva David had been working for two days straight. The bombing of Anacostia Naval Station was a disaster, over 3,500 lives taken in the thirty miles destroyed. She had heard whispers that this was only the beginning, that whoever these people were; they were out to eliminate everyone who did not share their beliefs. It was a national disaster; the United States of America was in a panic.

Jennifer Shepard, Director of NCIS, had been holed up in her office for three days; she had been one of the first on the scene at Anacostia Naval Station, seeing as she lived nearby, and her rank in NCIS of all places made it necessary for her to see the damage done on her turf. She had come back and ordered every single one of her employees, her agents, guards, technicians, and forensic scientists, to report for duty.

Abby had been pouring over what little evidence they had non-stop, finally submitting to sleep a few hours ago when Gibbs had threatened to lock her out of the lab. She was not at all pleased that her lab had been invaded by five other forensic scientists, some legendary in their discoveries. They had been frowning at Abby’s “attire” since they showed up. Gibbs had been heard having a little chat with them shortly before Abby went to camp out on the futon, and they hadn’t made one single comment or distained look at Abby since.

Truthfully, Ziva had known that something was off the second she had woken up at 5:00 a.m. to go on her morning run, and seen the chaos on the streets. She had gone to offer her help, and when she saw the National Guard marching up and down the streets, she realized this was far out of her league.

Her phone had rung, and it had been Jenny’s voice recording telling her, and the other NCIS employees to report for duty. Bring identification, your gun, and be prepared to be away from home for awhile, had been her orders.

It was now two and a half days later, there had been an attack in London, Gibbs had been running them to the ground, on the “Bigwig’s” orders, as Tony called them, and they were now all seated around a huge table in a comfortable room, in the White House of all places! Director Morrow, of Homeland Security, former Director of NCIS, had just walked in, and was greeting them all.

“Director Shepard, Jethro, Agent DiNozzo, Agent McGee, Dr. Mallard, Ms. Scioto, Officer David,” the man’s voice was just as deep as one would expect of one in a position of power, yet it also had a soothing quality to it. “May I suggest that you all get comfortable? We have quite the talk ahead of us.”

Ziva could see that Gibbs was ready to start interrogating his former boss, and apparently so could Jenny. She shot him a look before focusing in on Director Morrow.

“If I may ask sir, just what are we here to talk about?” She asked. Director Morrow smiled a tired, weary smile at her, and looked at everyone in the room.

“Director Shepard, we are here to talk about the help you are going to be receiving on this investigation.” He held up his hands at the protests starting.

“This order comes straight from the President himself. These people are experienced in fighting against this theat.”

Jenny, Gibbs, Ducky, Tony, Abby, and Tim all looked outraged. She knew her face must match theirs.

“Are you telling me, Director, you’ve known who is behind the whole time and you’ve waited for help? Precious time has been wasted waiting! What do these people have that we don’t?” Jenny Shepard beat Gibbs in asking Director Morrow what they were all thinking.

Director Morrow smiled at her and simply said, “Magic.”

*** *** *** *** ***

Tonks could feel her body quivering in fear and excitement. She reminded herself that even if these people were government agents, they were still muggles. That did nothing to calm her nerves. Around her Charlie was seemingly staring into space, but she knew better, he was watching for signs of something going wrong. Professor, no, Minerva, as she had told them all to call her, was arguing with a hyper Sirius. Remus was watching them with amusement. Harry was pacing the floor, and for a brief moment she was afraid it would fall through with the forces of his strides.

Just as she was about to go talk to him, a blond haired woman, Jane, she recalled, came out of the office she had been in. Her eyes looked over everyone in the room, before she coughed, making all but Tonks whip out their wands.

She raised her hands in a gesture showing she meant them no harm. Her voice was light as she told them, “Director Morrow is waiting for you.”

Remus was the first to ask. “Are the muggle authorities with him?” He needed to know if it was time for him to have to tell his darkest secret to strangers, who thought it simply a myth.

Jane smiled at him, sympathy clear in her gaze. “Yes, they are. It will most likely go better if you call them by their names, or titles, and by not their lack of magical abilities, just so you know.” The smile never left her face, but everyone in the room could see this woman meant what she had just said.

Remus coughed. “Duly noted,” was all he said. He looked away from Jane back to her and she gave him a smile, she knew he was scared, scared of being thought a freak, of telling a secret he considered shameful to people he didn’t think could understand there was a man behind the “monster.” No matter what these muggles thought, she vowed, she would be there for him. She knew the man inside him, and she wasn’t about to let him go, monster or no monster.

Remus stood up and she followed him. Sirius was standing right next to Harry, silently offering strength. Minerva was standing in the back, looking stern and proper, watching over her former pupils. Charlie brought up the rear, ready to defend them all if needed.

Jane led them to a door, where the sound of raised voices could be heard. She gave them a reassuring smile, and they all checked to make sure their wands were in their grasp, before she knocked. The voices quieted immediately, rustling could be heard, as could whispers.

“Come in.”

Jane moved to open the door. She gave them one last smile, and Tonks took one last look at her group, before walking into the lions den.

Her trained eyes immediately started looking over the room, the people, for threats, and she could feel the agents doing the same to them. One thought crossed her mind, what a group!

The leader, or so it seemed by their reactions, was a tall man with a proud and intimidating stance, his hair styled after one of the American muggle soldier groups, the Navy, no, Marines, and his cold blue eyes reminded her of Dumbledore’s when he was angry, yet they also remind her of Sirius’s. They were full of the same sadness, bitterness, and self-loathing. He had suffered a loss he had never truly recovered from or forgiven himself for. He was the silent ‘father’, the one who was always there, but rarely needed words. He would give his life for his ‘family,’ maybe he pushed them too hard, but in his mind he was doing what was right, what was best.

Sitting next to him was a woman past 5’4 in height, with sea green eyes, that were fierce and sharp, and short red hair. Tonks briefly wondered if she was related to the Weasley’s. The woman’s stance showed she had power, and she was not afraid to use it. For some reason though, the man sitting awfully close to her was considered the leader of this group, even if she had more power. She wondered why. She was the ‘mother’ of this bunch. She seemed to be a woman who was used to getting what she wanted, even if it cost her or those around her, greatly.

The man sitting across from them was well into older age, short, dressed in scrubs, a doctor then, and his eyes held wisdom that most people would kill for. He was the kindly uncle slash grandfather, switching from telling rambling stories to giving you the shove in the head that pushed you to bring it out of your ass. He had seen things, things that would break a weaker man, and maybe in a way they had broken him too. This was his family, he had never settled down, never had children, never spent his life with the one he loved. Maybe his rambling stories were a cry for the attention he had never found.

Sitting next to him was one of the most outrageously dressed people Tonks had ever seen. She loved this woman’s style, though she could feel Minerva huffing at the indignity of it. She had ebony black hair, pulled into two pigtails, her lips were outlined in bright red lipstick, her intelligent jade green eyes were staring at her from under a ton of purple mascara, and her outfit was all black, a tank top with skulls on it, with ripped jeans. This was probably a well behaved outfit for her, too. She was willing to bet this woman was the ‘baby,’ who always got her way, having ‘daddy’ wrapped around her finger.

Sitting next to her was a broad shouldered, tall man, 6’1 to the neighboring woman’s 5’9, with a sweet baby face, and revealing green eyes. He was watching someone behind her, Remus she realized with a start. His arm drew the woman next to him closer, as though he were trying to shield her. He was the ‘little brother, the middle child,’ the one who was constantly mocked, and overlooked. An overachiever, kind hearted, but if the way he was gripping that woman was any indication, fiercely protective if needed.

Standing behind him was a tall, brown haired man, with light green eyes. His posture and facial expression gave off the vibe of not caring, but those green eyes betrayed that façade. They were intelligent, maybe not in the way the man in front of him was, or the gothic dressed woman, or even the doctor, but there was intelligence. Street smarts, she had heard Moody call it once. This man did not have a degree in medicine, or teaching, but he know things the others didn’t. He was the eldest ‘child,’ the one who mocked his baby ‘brother’ to toughen him up, and pulled his little ‘sister’s’ pigtails.

Reaching the last person in the group, she tried to get a reading on this woman. She felt so familiar, but she didn’t know many muggles, and no American ones. She went over what she could glimpse of the woman, who was keeping her head down. Dark brown hair, almost black, dark, tanned skin, leading her to believe she wasn’t Caucasian, a lean physique a tank top and cargo pants, a Star of David around her neck… And was that a knife?!

Okay, so she was Jewish. Maybe middle-eastern, that would explain her skin tone and the knife. Tonks stopped her profiling and felt all her breath leave her body when the woman’ eyes locked with hers. She would recognize those eyes anywhere in the world, eyes that looked much more tired and sad then when she had last saw them, if that was even possible. The owner of those eyes stared into hers for a few more seconds, before her voice, the voice that Tonks thought she would never hear again floated out of her mouth.

“Hello Dora,” Zia Jacobs greeted.

Tonks swallowed before replying, “Hello Zia.”

The two didn’t seem to notice their respective groups bewildered looks, as one rose, the other stepped closer and finally they bridged the gap between them for the first time in over ten years, since the day they parted on that tragic day in London.

There would be the need for explanations soon, but for this second, the other just needed to know that their old friend was alive and well in front of them.

Finally, minutes later, releasing the other from their grip, they smiled at each other, and turned to tell their story, that started that summer day in London, ten years before.

The Dawning Of… A New Night


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and NCIS belong to their respective creators, J.K. Rowling and Donald P. Bellisario. I’m not making any profit from this story.

Author’s Note: This story was written for EmyPink , her gift for the Secret Santa Exchange: 2009 Edition on NFA . I hope you enjoy it!


Chapter Four


Flash Forward…

Two months, three weeks, four days, five hours, and six minutes later…


Ziva David didn’t know what was going on in the realm of the living. She didn’t know that Ducky, Abby, and a team of Healers, were racing to save her life, to keep her in this realm. She couldn’t hear the Healers’ frantic movements or their worried shouts back and forth to each other of what charm to use.

She couldn’t see Ducky and Abby attempting to stem the bleeding in between all the magic being used, Abby’s voice getter higher and higher as the heart machine monitoring her heartbeat sent out loud, panicky noises, telling that its beats were too low, Ducky getting the magical paddles ready to restart her heart, if need be.

She couldn’t feel Tony’s agony at watching the woman he loved lying in a hospital bed, so pale and still that it almost seemed Ducky, Abby and the team of Healers were fighting for her, that she didn’t want to live. She couldn’t feel his pained, terrified, begging, to what every higher being there was to help keep her alive, to have her wake up and smile at him, she didn’t hear him saying he would do anything he had to do to help her find the will to live, if they only kept her alive.

She was unaware of Gibbs taking his pain, fear, and helplessness out on the hallway walls. She was unaware of his pleas to the God he had been feuding with for over twenty years, to bring his ‘daughter’ back to him, not to make him lose another one, he had already lost Kelly and Kate, he couldn’t lose Ziva.

She was oblivious of Jenny standing beside him, cursing Ari Hawari, Eli David, Bellatrix Lestrange, any and all Death Eaters, and the big bad, Voldemort. Jenny was used to dealing with things from behind the desk now, not in the field. The pain, the blame, the frustration she always felt when this happened, had faded in her mind a bit. She was less than pleased it was front and center again. Ziva, of all people, was fighting for her life, or rather, Ducky, Abby and the Healers were.

Ziva, the woman who, when she had barely known her, had antagonized their captors in Cairo, taking the attention away from Jenny, who could not have survived the torture Ziva had put herself through for her. Jenny had spent time in the hospital waiting for Ziva to awaken then too and when she asked if she could ever repay her, not bothering to ask why she had done that for her, already knowing she would not get an answer, Ziva had simply said, “Live your life, that’s payment enough.”

She couldn’t hear Tonks’ heartbreaking sobs, her hair now her natural mousy brown, instead of its customary, vibrant, pink, and tears streaming down her face, all the while whispering to herself, “It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, Merlin, don’t let her die, please don’t let her die,” over and over again.

She couldn’t see Tim sitting far away from the rest of the group gathered outside the room where Ziva was giving up. He could admit that Ziva wasn’t fighting, if only to himself, and if what he had heard during the fight was any indication, he understood why. He had studied the human mind and body while at MIT, and while it certainly hadn’t included the effects of Dark Magic on a muggle, he could guess that with the stress Ziva was under, this might be the last straw.

He was farther removed than the rest of them, sure, he and Ziva were friends, but they had never had the father/daughter bond she and Gibbs shared, the best friend/sister thing she and Jenny had going on, the lover she had in Tony, the confidant that Ducky was to her, and the excitable little sister Abby was. He was just another friend, a good one, but not her first choice. That was fine by him, he was just glad she had someone, and if she had ever wanted to talk to him, he was all ears, as he knew she was for him, too.

Timothy McGee then did something he didn’t believe in, he was a man of science, usually, but desperate and strange times called for extreme measures. He put his head in his clasped hands and prayed.

Ducky, Abby, and the Healers, watched, aghast, as they had to stand by, for there was nothing they could do, while Ziva David, unknowingly, slipped into a deep and dark coma, soon to be lost in a place few would ever see.

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While Ziva may have been unaware of the goings on of the outside world, she was suddenly very much aware that she was no longer in the blissful darkness. Instead, she was surrounded by clear white lights, silver, gold, black, gray, and blue, all dancing around, all seeming to be trying to overtake the pure white of a glowing orb. She had a suspicion of what it might be, but she banished that thought to the back of her mind.

None the less, her hand seem to be moving toward the glowing, pulsating, little, round, orb of its own accord. She was mere inches from touching the beautiful ball of light, when a sharp voice rang out.

“Stop.”

True to their instructions, she did. She stepped back to look at the owner of the voice, and stopped dead in her tracks.

There were two people floating just above the ground, and she recognized them both. She had the feeling if she had needed to breathe, she would have suffocated. For floating inches away from her, were Caitlyn “Kate” Todd, and her baby sister, her flower, Talia “Tali” David. She swallowed, her throat was suddenly dry.

“I am dead, am I not? “ Ziva said calmly, much calmer than she felt. Inside all her emotions were running wild. She could feel anger at the fact she was dead, regret as to what had happened before the fight, what she had said, sadness that she would never see Tony, her beloved, again, Tonks and Jenny, her best friends, Gibbs, her surrogate father, better than her flesh and blood one had ever been, damn him to Hell, Tim and Abby her younger siblings, and Ducky, her Grandfather.

Not a single part of her was glad to be free of the pain, not like the other times she had been in the white lights, on a sandy beach before being ripped away. No, now she wanted, needed, to be back in the realm of the living, pain and all, for she had people she loved to be with, and a war to win.

“You’ll need that determination in the time ahead, Ziva. You’re right, you do have a war to win, which I failed to know was even a battle, you have to fight, Ziva, for all of us,” Caitlyn Todd could only be looking at her with what could called proud expectation, and Ziva soon found out why, as Tali, her baby sister, floated up to look her straight in the eyes, and her voice solemn, began to recite her sister’s fate from the Powers That Be.

“SINS OF THE FATHER… PASSED TO THE LIVING…WHO SHARE HIS BLOOD…ONE CLOAKED IN SHADOWS…THE OTHER TRYING TO REACH THE SUN…A GRACEFUL DANCER, SHE DIDN’T HESITATE … TO SHOOT WITH ONE LIFE ON THE LINE… NOW, SHE MUST PERMANENTLY DESTROY… HER SHADOW TWIN… FOR SHE WILL NEVER REACH THE SUN…IF HER SHADOW TWIN… STILL HAS HIS DARKNESS NEAR HER SUNLIGHT…”

Ziva David could say honestly say she had been scared, truly, deeply, scared to the depths of her soul, three times. The first had been when she found out her mother was dying, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The second had been when she saw the bomb go off, and knew that Tali had not survived, that she missed her by seconds. The last had been when she had realized Ari was a traitor. This topped all three.

“What do I need to do?” She asked, needing to know how to ‘reach the sun’, to gather the strength to defeat one she had loved above all at one time.

Caitlyn Todd smiled gently at her. “We can’t tell you that, Ziva, you need to figure it out yourself. He’s your enemy; you knew him better than anyone else in the world, at one time, and you know what he’s capable of. The answer lies within you.”

Caitlyn Todd ‘walked’ over to her, and Tali stepped back. Caitlyn looked Ziva in the eyes, and told her what she thought. “I wish more then anything I could be back with them. Not as much as I used to, but the ache is still there, it always will be. The thing that sooths me, is that they have you. You love them more than you’re really comfortable with sometimes. And they love you. You have no idea how glad I am that it was you who took my place on the team, yet allowed me to still live in their hearts. You made your own spot. Ziva David, I am eternally in your debt. Good luck, and thank you.” Caitlyn Todd kissed her forehead, and faded back into the mist, smiling the whole time.

Ziva stood there, tears trailing down her cheeks, shocked to her core. She had always thought Kate would hate her and she considered her in her debt? Wow.

A light laugh startled her, and she spun around. Tali was watching her amused, from right behind her.

“One of the cool things about being dead is that you can move without making a sound,” Tali said, amusement clear in her voice. She looked at Ziva, and sighed. “I don’t blame you, Ziva. There was nothing you could have done, except also be blown to smithereens. I felt nothing, it was quick and painless. I love you, I always will, and I want you to live. Destroy the darkness, and live.” Seeing her sister’s face, she continued.

“Living, Ziva, is the true challenge. Anyone, anything can, and will, eventually, die. To keep going, to move forward, to keep fighting, to live just one more day, that is the true challenge. Live day by day, Gazette, and you’ll find what you never knew.” Tali gave her sister a knowing smile, Ziva always fulfilled her promises, and she would fulfill this one, or die trying.

Tali ran a cold hand across her sister’s cheek, and kissed her forehead, all the while softly singing the lullaby their mother had sung to them as children. “Live for me, Ziva, live for Mother, live for yourself.” With one more look at her hero, Tali gently slipped back into the mist, and watched as her sister’s soul disappeared from limbo. Now, all she could do was wait and pray, pray for Ziva not only to live, but to thrive.

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Ziva David awoke with a start, her heart awakening from its own time in limbo. Ducky Mallard, Abby Scioto, and the Healers were all smiling in relief at reviving the dark-haired beauty. Too many had died while in their care, or came into it already dead. Saving someone, especially a hero, made the sun seem to shine in their hearts for just a little while. That is, until she started sobbing from pain that no one living could fix. She had a war to fight, and she would win. Or die trying.

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Author’s Note: This is the prologue to what will be a series called The Dawning Of… I hope you enjoyed this, and will read the parts to come.

Happy Holidays, Emy!