Dumbledore's office at the Ministry of Magic was not nearly so affable a venue as his study. At least, that was Harry's view. But that seemed only natural, as it was here that the actual business of running the Ministry was conducted. If Dumbledore's study were the heart of his offices, this was the brain.
Sitting in a hard wooden chair (a sharp contrast to the friendly stuffed chairs of the study) before Dumbledore's desk, Harry accepted a large envelope from the Minister with a mildly questioning look. It was not the common parchment envelope of the wizarding world, but a plain Muggle manila envelope. At a nod from Dumbledore, Harry opened the flap and dipped his hand inside. The crisp papers which emerged in a thick sheaf were very official-looking. Harry lay the pile on Dumbledore's desk and flipped through them one by one, his expression reflecting a growing amazement.
Lying here before him was full documentary evidence of a life -- two lives, actually -- lived for the past two decades exclusively in the Muggle world. His and Hermione's lives. Lives which, following their eleventh birthdays, might have been but never were.
"Muggles do thrive on paperwork," Dumbledore chortled, enjoying the glow of wonder illuminating Harry's face. "Although, truth to tell, the wizarding world is closing the gap every year. Merlin, the red tape I am forced to endure nowadays! At least once a week I feel I would gladly chuck it all for a sack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and give it all back to Fudge. I daresay he thrived on this sort of bureaucratic rubbish."
Harry's eyes were now resting on a pair of documents which seemed to assert themselves over and above their fellows. He stared the elaborate scrollwork around the edges, at the crisp, black Old English text spreading like an arching ironwork bridge across the top. They were diplomas, attesting that he and Hermione had both completed the necessary courses to qualify as high school graduates.
"If the two of you are to go on to university," Dumbledore said, recognizing the papers in Harry's hand, "those will be among the most valuable documents you will find in that not inconsiderable assortment."
Harry was scrutinizing the two diplomas intently. "I recognize this school. It's one of the most exclusive boarding schools in Britain. I think I remember Uncle Vernon mentioning it once. He seemed put off that they wouldn't even give him an appointment so he could submit an application for Dudley. Then, quick as you please, he started in how they weren't half as good as Smeltings and forbade anyone to mention their name again."
"Indeed?" Dumbledore said with an amused chuckle. "Not too surprising. Dudley is not the first young man to be refused admission, and I daresay he will not be the last. It is no exaggeration to say that Eddington Academy is the most exclusive institution of learning in the whole of Britain, including Hogwarts." When Harry's eyebrows rose questioningly, Dumbledore said, "Oh, yes. Hogwarts has hundreds of students, and their only requirement for admission is the possession of magical blood. Eddington hosts only a fraction of Hogwarts' number, and its requirements are far more stringent. It was established, and is maintained, by the joint efforts of Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic."
"I don't understand," Harry said. Dumbledore chuckled again.
"Have you ever wondered, Harry, how it is that so many children of Muggle families can attend Hogwarts without their absence being noted by the non-magical world?"
In truth, Harry had scarcely given it a thought. "I know the Dursleys told everyone that I attended St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys." A slight shiver accompanied this echo from his past. Given Harry's present state of affairs, perhaps the Dursleys' metaphorical dart wasn't so far off the bullseye after all.
"That is, indeed, the story they told," Dumbledore said knowledgably. "And, in their way, they were not far removed from every other Muggle whose child has gone off to attend Hogwarts. In a modern society, a Muggle child cannot simply 'disappear' from the school system without some form of documentation. It would arouse suspicion, drawing unwanted attention to our world. Thus, when any Muggle-born child attends Hogwarts, a document is prepared and delivered to his or her parents or guardians, attesting that the departed child is attending another school -- one fully accredited by Her Majesty's government. And when that child's term of study at Hogwarts is complete, a subsequent document -- a diploma -- is forwarded in like manner." Nodding toward the papers in Harry's hands, Dumbledore said, "The diplomas you now hold are the ones previously held by the Grangers and the Dursleys, respectively. I don't believe the Dursleys even opened the envelope, but merely set it aside in case someone should ask for proof that they had disposed of their duties as your guardians in an acceptable manner. They surrendered it quite docilely when Alastor called on them on Tuesday last."
Harry grinned at this, remembering how Uncle Vernon had cowed before Moody's magical eye at King's Cross station a few years (and a lifetime) ago.
"Most Hogwarts graduates have little or no need of such documentation once they enter the wizarding world as fully trained witches and wizards," Dumbledore went on. "In your case, however, they will prove invaluable when, as I presume you will, you and Hermione set out to prepare yourselves to become gainfully employed -- and, alas, taxpaying -- citizens of the Muggle world."
"But," Harry said as he pondered the two diplomas with knitted brow, "we didn't actually do anything to earn these diplomas. It wouldn't surprise me if Hermione knew enough to go straight into Oxford, but what I know about history and math and literature wouldn't fill a Cornish pixie's teacup."
"As may be," Dumbledore agreed pleasantly. "And that is why your first task upon leaving the wizarding world will be to earn your diplomas. In fact, the paperwork for your enrollment -- yours and Hermione's -- is being processed at Eddington even as I speak."
"You mean," Harry gaped, "this is a real school? It's not just a Muggle smokescreen?"
"Oh, it is very real, Harry," Dumbledore said assuredly. "And it serves many functions. One department serves to educate Squibs whose wizarding families prefer not to immerse them too deeply in Muggle society. Another exists to educate Aurors and other agents of the Ministry in the ways of the Muggle world, so that they can pass among them freely without drawing undue attention to themselves, and, by association, to our world. Rest assured," he added summarily, "we will be taking great care to see that none of these 'students' comes anywhere near Hermione so as to weaken her Memory Charm."
"The teachers are all non-magical, then?" Harry said.
"Quite so," Dumbledore nodded. "And they are all fully accredited, with references that will withstand the most rigorous Muggle scrutiny."
"The last thing I expected to do after I left Hogwarts," Harry mused, "was go back to school, Muggle or otherwise." Looking at his diploma again, he saw that two lines were conspicuously blank: the date of graduation, and the signature of the headmaster or headmistress. If these had existed before as mere formality, they had been effaced since. "It's been a long time since I attended a Muggle school," Harry reflected. "I'm really going to have to work to earn this."
"You will work quite as hard as you ever did at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, sounding more like the old Headmaster of Hogwarts rather than the present-day Minister of Magic. "The Headmistress will see to that, make no mistake."
"She's a Squib, too?" Harry said.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied. (Was it Harry's imagination, or was there a familiar twinkle in the corner of the old wizard's eye, just visible over the rims of his half-moon spectacles?) "She is herself a graduate of Eddington, after which she went on to secure a teaching degree at Cambridge before returning to her alma mater. She taught history and governmental studies before being promoted to her present station. She may, in fact, be teaching some of your classes. Though she may have a bit of catching up to do herself."
"Why is that?"
"Well," Dumbledore said (and here his eyes carefully avoided meeting Harry's), "she took a sabbatical of sorts a few years ago -- at my request. In so doing, she risked losing her old position when she returned. But I am happy to say that, with the help of a sympathetic friend in the Ministry (Dumbledore was now fairly bursting with ebullience) she was reinstated with little or no fuss -- shortly after your graduation from Hogwarts."
Harry's body jerked as if he had just touched an exposed electric wire.
"Mrs. Figg?"
As Dumbledore laughed delightedly, Harry's eyes came to rest on the diploma bearing Hermione's name.
"How much do the Grangers know?" He spoke so softly that he was unsure if Dumbledore had heard his question until the old wizard, his humor now subdued, spoke in calm, measured tones.
"Precisely as much as Hermione. In the main, I believe they are delighted that their daughter is returning to their world on a permanent basis. They were always supportive of Hermione's new life, but I sensed that they never quite made peace with the notion of a magical world existing side-by-side with their own. In their opinion, Hermione's 'malady' was nothing less than Heaven-sent."
Harry was holding Hermione's diploma with something akin to reverence. "She always wanted to go to university. I heard her talk about it more times than I can remember."
"How did Hermione take -- the 'news'?" Dumbledore asked gently.
"Like the Hermione I fell in love with would be expected to," Harry said with a pale smile. "She's still in a sort of semi-shock at the realization that she's no longer a witch. But it didn't surprise me to learn that, organized as she's always been, she had her whole academic life mapped out by her tenth birthday. Her Hogwarts letter may have put those plans on a side track, but she never really abandoned them. Now, she's just shifting her priorities back to her original agenda. She didn't know precisely how she was going to do it, but there was never a doubt in her mind that she would go to university after Hogwarts. Now," and Harry brandished the diploma for emphasis, "I can remove her last doubt. I think it will be the best thing I can give her."
Dumbledore's face fell momentarily, as if he were deciding whether the time were right to broach a certain matter weighing upon his mind. He evidently decided to postpone the moment, for his face brightened almost immediately.
"While you are establishing your new lives in the Muggle world," Dumbledore said, "you will need funds more appropriate than Galleons and Sickles. Using my authority as Minister, I have closed your Gringotts account and converted the contents of your vault into pounds sterling. I will be conferring with Hermione's parents as to a suitable institution to which to transfer your funds. Is that acceptable to you?"
"Yes," Harry agreed easily. "I'm sure they'll choose wisely for us." Harry continued to look through the bogus paperwork before him. "Will all of this really stand up to Muggle scrutiny?"
"Duplicates have already been placed on file in every appropriate location," Dumbledore said with a confident smile. "Memory Charms have been applied where necessary. I believe we have left no stone unturned to assure that your transition to Muggle life will be smooth and unchallenged."
Dumbledore noted a wave of sadness clouding Harry's face. When at last Harry's eyes rose and beheld Dumbledore's concerned expression, he sighed with a heaviness belying his youth.
"Hermione could have been the best, Albus. She -- she might have been Minister some day. I used to tell her so until she threatened to put a Silencing Charm on me." Even as he essayed a wan smile, Harry felt his throat tighten as he realized that such threats were now mere vapor. Hermione would cast no more spells, now or ever. "Between you and me, I think she would have preferred to become Headmistress of Hogwarts someday. She respected and admired you and Minerva more than she could express." Harry's voice dropped to a dusty rasp. "She could have done great things. And now..."
"Do not sell Hermione short, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Nor yourself. I believe you will both accomplish great things in the Muggle world. And I would remind you that there are still far more Muggles in the world than there are wizards. If anything, you and she are likely to have an even greater impact on the world.
"I am no great believer in Fate, Harry. My abundant time in this world has taught me that we are no mere flotsam on a universal ocean, cast hither and yon on the tides of chance. We choose how and where we will leave our mark. Your lives have been altered dramatically. But I do not believe that these events were ordained as part of a greater Destiny for you both.
"I remember, back in the 60's, I found a most interesting shirt in a Muggle shop on Carnaby Street. It said, 'Life is what happens while you're making plans.' I shall have to search my wardrobe and see if I can find it." With a warm smile, Dumbledore said sagely, "In life, things simply -- happen. It is up to us to deal with them as they occur. And there is no doubt in my mind that both you and Hermione will thrive in your new lives. It is only your bodies that have been changed. Greatness is not determined by wands or magical blood. The potential for greatness is within us all.
"Do you remember the words Hermione spoke to you in the Potions Chamber as you set off to protect the Sorcerer's Stone from Lord Voldemort?"
Harry started at the question. How could he ever forget Hermione's words in those dark tunnels deep under Hogwarts? But -- how in Merlin's name did Dumbledore know, when Harry had not even told Ron?
"Greatness is not always measured by the size or number of our achievements," Dumbledore said. "It is my belief that Molly and Arthur Weasley have done more for the wizarding world than any three Ministers of Magic, myself included. They have instilled in their seven children a spirit of goodness that will spread out and create ripples touching unguessed shores. So shall it be with the two of you. The world will be a better place -- indeed, it already is a better place -- simply because you and Hermione are in it."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. That allusion to Arthur and Molly, and their children -- was it possible -- but how could Dumbledore possibly know that Hermione was -- ? Harry peered mutely at Dumbledore's long, pale face, wondering just how many secrets lay hidden behind the deceptively transparent windows of those pale blue eyes.
Following a studied silence, Harry asked, "Is Hermione really going to accept all that's happened to her without questioning? It hardly seems in her nature to do so."
"That is a concern not to be dismissed lightly," Dumbledore conceded. "But humanity is continually being afflicted by new ailments about which little will be known until research yields the answers we seek. AIDS was virtually non-existent only a generation ago. Any new malady or condition must inevitably claim a first victim. We must trust that Hermione's intelligence will itself convince her that hers is but the first of many such cases that will be revealed with time."
"I don't want her thinking I'm some sort of martyr for joining her in exile," Harry said. "I couldn't bear the thought that she'd want to treat me as some kind of selfless hero, when the truth is that I'm the cause of it all in the first place."
"To begin with," Dumbledore said with quiet firmness, "you are not the cause. Evil does as it will. You were merely Mr. Malfoy's justification. The blame, and the guilt, remain his alone.
"As to the rest, I have been considering that very point. It would not be conducive to a homologous relationship for one party to feel an overwhelming debt toward the other.
"Fortunately," and Dumbledore all but winked at Harry as his eyes sparkled mischievously, "being as this is a new condition, we are constantly discovering new aspects heretofore overlooked or, if seen, not understood. The Healers' examinations have led them to conclude that Hermione contracted the condition more than a month ago -- by means as yet unknown -- during which time it incubated in her bloodstream before attacking her in full force. Moreover, they have determined that the condition is communicable -- though not by casual means, so Hermione need not fear afflicting her friends simply by association. As for you (and the old wizard's eyes twinkled even more brightly), it appears that, at some time during the incubation period, you contracted the condition from Hermione during an -- ahem -- intimate encounter." Dumbledore's cheeks flushed, and Harry could not help grinning in spite of himself. "It was therefore only a matter of time before you became afflicted even as she. You did not submit to the Mortalis Potion merely for her sake, but for your own."
"But won't Hermione feel guilty for ruining my life?" Harry said with an ache in his voice.
"Perhaps," Dumbledore admitted. "For a time. But surely she will know and understand that you would have followed her under any circumstances. A love such as yours cannot be divided. It will be no deception when you assure her that your life would be devastated without her. None who knows you -- even as do I -- can look into your eyes and believe otherwise. We are faced with two paths of deception, each fraught with its own obstacles. This one, at least, is the less injurious. I earnestly believe that to be so. Time alone will tell."
"This is going to be difficult, Albus," Harry said. "So much deception. I'm not that good a liar."
"Would that we all were so afflicted," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "No, there is no easy answer to so complicated a problem. It will no doubt be a war to be waged over a lifetime, one battle at a time. But such is the price to be paid.
"However, touching on that..."
Dumbledore suddenly grew serious, and Harry suspected that the unknown dilemma that was clearly weighing on the old wizard's mind was about to be brought into the light.
"Insofar as the wizarding world is concerned," Dumbledore said, "your sentence has been pronounced and carried out. The matter is closed. But I fear there are others who will not accept the justice meted out today."
"Nasrcissa Malfoy," Harry said with growing alarm. "She was outraged when I was cleared of the murder charge. And now that I'm not going to Azkaban for the charge I was convicted on, she's not going to just sit back and let me live my life as if nothing had happened."
"It will not be enough for her -- nor for the remaining Death Eaters who still blame you for for Voldemort's final downfall -- to see you expelled from the magical world," Dumbledore agreed. "I am not being overdramatic when I say that, once you are removed from the protection of the Ministry, your life -- and that of Hermione -- can be measured in days, perhaps hours.
"For that reason, I made a visit this morning to Hogwarts, to confer with Filius."
Harry comprehended instantly. Filius Flitwick, teacher of Charms at Hogwarts, had assisted Dumbledore more than two decades ago in placing a Fidelius Charm upon the Godric's Hollow cottage of the Potters -- James, Lily, and baby Harry. Under present circumstances, Harry needed no prompting to accept Dumbledore's proposal. After all that he, Harry, had done to protect Hermione, foolish pride was not going to unmake everything now.
"I'll use Ron as my Secret Keeper," Harry said. But, to his surprise, Dumbledore shook his head.
"I strongly advise against that, Harry. Ron will be the obvious choice, and while I believe he can be trusted not to betray you of his own volition, there are too many others whom Narcissa can threaten to force his compliance."
Harry shuddered at the vision of Ginny or Molly being tortured in front of Ron to extract the secret from him. Harry himself would not blame Ron for cracking under such duress.
"Rest assured," Dumbledore said reassuringly, "young Mr. Weasley has his part to play, as do we all. He would not have it otherwise. But not here. Another has already stepped forward and volunteered, and I have approved this unselfish gesture unreservedly. I pray you, Harry -- trust me."
Harry was about to ask who it was who had volunteered for so dangerous a duty, but something about Dumbledore's plea -- and the fact that he had carefully avoided mentioning the other party by name -- seemed a clear statement that no name would be forthcoming.
"Right, then," Harry said. Confidence was creeping slowly but surely through him. Though the dangers he and Hermione faced were as real in their way as the one-time threat of Voldemort himself, Harry had no reason to doubt that Dumbledore, now as ever, could be trusted to do what was necessary to assure victory. "In that case," Harry said as an introspective shadow clouded his eyes, "I have have only one more thing to take care of."
"And that would be?" Dumbledore queried.
"You have your secrets," Harry smiled mysteriously. "And I have mine."
Dumbledore returned Harry's smile without reservation. As if acting on a shared thought, the two rose from their chairs almost as one. Harry extended his hand as Dumbledore emerged from behind his desk. But instead of taking the offered hand, Dumbledore wrapped his arms around Harry in a grandfatherly gesture that caught the young wizard-turned-Muggle totally by surprise. Harry returned the embrace, fighting tears. It was a struggle doomed to failure. When Dumbledore pulled back, Harry saw that the old wizard's eyes were quite as moist as his.
"Take care of yourself, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I wish you and Hermione every happiness. The wizarding world will never forget you. I most certainly shall not."
"Thank you, Albus," Harry wheezed. "For everything."
Wiping his eyes, Harry stuffed the papers back into their envelope and closed the flap. He smoothed his robes, chuckling silently. "After today, I'll never wear these again." He reached into a pocket of his robes and pulled out a small pouch secured with a drawstring. "And I'll never use this bloody stuff again." He caught Dumbledore's eye with a smirk. "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Floo powder?"
"I know of no one who doesn't," Dumbledore grinned. "Fare you well, Harry Potter."
His voice failing him, Harry smiled once before exiting the Minister's office and closing the door behind him. A moment later, another door opened at the rear of the Minister's office.
"Is he gone?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You may come out now."
A young man with a round face and soft, warm eyes emerged from an antechamber. He looked uncertainly at the chair vacated by Harry, as if wondering if he dared sit in the presence of the Minister of Magic. Smiling genially, Dumbledore seated himself, inviting the newcomer to do likewise.
"Are you certain you wish to do this?" Dumbledore asked carefully. "I am unequivocal in my own belief that you are up to the task. But you must be equally certain. The moment you become Harry's and Hermione's Secret Keeper, your life will be in constant danger. I do not exaggerate when I say that Narcissa Malfoy will stop at nothing to find and punish Harry. She will not be swayed from her purpose by the specter of Azkaban. She has lost a husband and a son. Grief and hatred can blind reason as few things. Should she or any of the Death Eaters ever suspect you, there is no Dark Curse they will withhold to force you to speak."
"I know, Minister," came the reply in a thin, reedy voice that yet bristled with strength and determination. "But I'm the best choice. No one would suspect me, would they? And even if they did -- I mean -- I have no -- no family to threaten -- I mean, not really," he added sadly. "It's -- the right thing to do. You once told me that it took courage to stand up to one's friends. Shouldn't I be just as ready to stand up for them?"
Nodding slowly, Dumbledore said, "Filius will have prepared the first stage of the Charm by now. For the nonce, Harry and Hermione will be staying with the Weasleys at the Burrow. The Healers have assured Hermione," the old wizard said with a twinkle in his eye, "that the Mortalis Potion has left her with a temporary immunity from 'magical contamination' that will remain in force for another week or so. In like manner, they have also assured us that Hermione's Memory Charm will not suffer from this brief exposure. This interval will allow her and Harry the opportunity to say their goodbyes to their friends before their exile begins. From there, they will transfer to the Granger house until such time as they have found a home of their own. In both cases, they will be guarded by a contingent of Aurors under the auspices of Alastor Moody. I know I can trust them to keep Harry and Hermione safe."
"But what about the Weasleys and the Grangers?" the visitor asked. "Won't they still be in danger afterwards?"
"I feel certain that the Weasleys can handle whatever comes their way," Dumbledore said. "As for the Grangers, they will be protected by a subsequent Fidelius Charm when their daughter and son-in-law depart. I will let it be known that I myself will be Secret Keeper in both instances. That will allay suspicion from the two genuine Secret Keepers. I shall not reveal the other's name, even as I have kept your name secret, even from Harry."
"Then how will I tell him?" came the surprised query. "After the spell is completed, he won't even know where his own house is unless I tell him. So how can I keep him from knowing who I am --"
"You will print the information on a piece of paper," Dumbledore said, "which I will then show to Harry and Hermione. I have used this method before. Trust me.
"Now," Dumbledore said resolutely, "the time has come to prepare your mind for the spell. Once that has been done, transferring the secret itself at the proper time will be a simple matter. Are you ready to begin?"
"Yes, Minister."
"Neville, Neville," Dumbledore said, shaking his head with amused exasperation. "Why can I not impress upon you to address me as Albus?"
"I -- I can't," Neville said, his round face beginning to resemble a tomato. "You're the Minister of Magic. It isn't...proper."
"God bless the Neville Longbottoms of the world," Dumbledore murmured piously. "What a sad place this world would be without them."
Author's Note: This chapter is far and away the longest of the story. That may serve in some small way to lessen my burden of guilt over the fact that Chapter 8 won't be forthcoming until May.
Thanks to all who are are reading and reviewing, with a special nod to nurray, whose thoughtful analysis of events past -- and those yet to come -- is most welcome. This story was written well before OotP was released, and I've been polishing up each chapter to be sure it's worthy of this site. There are so many penthouse-level writers here, I must constantly strive to keep my elevator from sinking down to the basement. With reviewers like nurray keeping me alert, maybe I'll enjoy a garden flat of my own someday.
As has been seen, many questions were answered this time. A handful remain, and they will be addressed in the two remaining chapters. I only hope I haven't missed something along the way. Part of the pleasure I derive from writing comes from weaving complex tapestries and then striving not to get caught in my own web. If I DO let something slip by, please don't hesitate to wave a red flag so I can go back and set matters to rights. I made a big goof in a story posted at FanFiction.Net (shortly to appear here at Portkey), and an alert reviewer enabled me to go back and fix things. Too bad J.K.'s editors aren't as alert as fanfiction reviewers. When I note how many blunders SHE has made, I feel considerably less foolish over my own.
I hope this chapter will tide everyone over until next month. Until then, thanks for reading.
Note From Fae Princess: As Stoneheart has stated over the past few chapter in his Author's Notes, there won't be an update until May. To babyhalo19: I'm going to B.C for a month starting tomorrow -- and as I'm Stoneheart's official posting-girl, I will not be able to update the story until I return. To pass the time (as you all wait for an update) I strongly recommend reading Stoneheart's other stories -- either posted here or at FF.net (there are more at FF.net that you should all check out). And Creepy Susie -- thank you! I would love to see a Canucks game, however ... I am an avid Leafs fan. And I'll be staying in Victoria -- which is so beautiful! I visited last year for two weeks, and I was ... in awe. I mean, if you saw the town I live in right now, there's just no comparison. Victoria is where my heart is.
See you all when I return! ~Fae