Secrets, Lies and the Daily Prophet by L.C. McCabe

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 23/02/2003
Last Updated: 15/03/2003
Status: Completed

Completed. In the aftermath of Voldemort's return, there is great uncertainty in the
Wizarding World. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge in trying to maintain calm and stability in the
public eye, denies the Dark Lord's return and instead allows suspicions regarding Harry Potter
to mount. Many begin to wonder whether or not Harry Potter is truly a saviour or a Dark Wizard in
training. Several Dark Secrets are revealed while Harry yearns to discover the greatest magic of
all: Love. Winner of Portkey's First Reader's Choice Award for Best Novel Length Fic.




1. Arabella s Secret Messenger
------------------------------

Author’s note: This novel was written before *Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix*
was written.I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone that voted for my fic in the
Portkey's First Reader's Choice Awards. I greatly appreciate the honor of winning the Best
Novel Length Fanfic on this site. I shall definitely mention that award in my future writing
ventures and in trying to interest literary agents and publishers. Thank you!

This story was originally published on Schnoogle as “Sirius Black’s Secret Love.” I’ve made a
few changes to it, but it will be essentially the same story. There were a few readers who thought
the title had been misleading, so this is an attempt to do a better job of naming my story. Please
note that this chapter is told through 3rd person Arabella Figg’s POV. Starting in
Chapter Two the narration reverts to the standard 3rd person Harry Potter’s POV. This is
only because I didn’t want Harry to eavesdrop over this chapter, but wanted the reader to be able
to know what transpired. I’d also like to thank my beta readers Cara Hicks and Amanda Byer for
offering terrific suggestions to strengthen my writing. This is also dedicated to the wonderful
online community that is the Harry Potter for Grown Ups list where we debate our theories on a
daily basis, many listies will recognize theories that have been floated there and served to
inspire my imagination.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Rating: R – For adult themes and sexual intimacy.

Chapter One – Arabella’s Surprise Messenger

Mrs. Figg had just finished her afternoon tea when she heard a familiar sound. Albus Dumbledore
wanted to speak with her through her fire. She lived in a Muggle neighbourhood and was careful to
make sure that any magical aspects of her house were carefully concealed so that if any of her
neighbours visited they wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Mrs. Figg stood up from her
kitchen table and removed the whistling teakettle from the gas stove. She took her wand out from
her deep pocket and waved it over the flames.

“Yes, Albus. What did you want to tell me?”

Dumbledore’s head appeared in the flames in miniature. Only a portion of his long hair and beard
was visible.

“Arabella, please open your fireplace flue. You will be receiving someone who will give you some
dire news and a new assignment from me. Do not be alarmed by the messenger – he is to be trusted.
You’ll understand after you hear his story, which has been verified by me. That is all for
now.”

Dumbledore’s face popped and the flames resumed their normal height. Mrs. Figg replaced the
kettle to the burner and shut the flame off.

Dumbledore’s words echoed in her head. “Don’t be alarmed by the messenger.” She began to wonder
who Dumbldore was sending. She started to frown. She understood that Dumbledore could often be
cryptic, especially when communicating from a distance. He was cautious to not reveal too much that
somehow might be intercepted by others. That was why he was sending someone in person to give her
detailed information.

Mrs. Figg moved to her fireplace and mechanically opened the flue. She also waved her wand about
a foot above the mantel and magically reconnected it to the Floo Network. Most wizards and witches
had their fireplaces constantly connected to this network. She saw this as a vulnerability where
anyone could fly into your house unannounced and attack you. Therefore she only allowed travel by
Floo powder under her own control.

Mrs. Figg sat down in her favourite chair and held her wand in her lap. She would be armed and
ready for whomever Dumbledore was sending. She looked at the clock on the mantel. Any minute now.
Then she heard the rumbling of someone coming through the chimney and landing on her hearth. Her
eyes opened wide as she recognized the figure, struggling to stand. Before her stood a man wearing
ragged robes and having long matted hair and a shaggy beard. The orange tabby cat that was sitting
at her feet arched his back and hissed.

“Sirius Black!” Her knuckles were white from clutching her wand tightly.

“Arabella, didn’t Dumbledore tell you I was coming?”

Her eyes were cold towards him.

“He told me to expect someone, but didn’t say who. Give me your message and then give me one
good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

He held out his hands in front of him.

“Please, calm down. The message is lengthy – you need to know that Voldemort has risen. He has a
body once again and Dumbledore needs our help to counter Voldemort’s forces. I’ll tell you all
about that, but first I must tell you that I never betrayed the Potters. That evil deed was done by
Peter Pettigrew. I had tried to track him down and seek revenge, but he got the better of me.”

Arabella Figg’s eyebrows furrowed. “But you killed him as well as a street full of Muggles.”

Sirius shook his head slowly. “No. Pettigrew faked his own death and caused the explosion. He
framed me for everything. I snapped. Lily…James…and then all those innocent people killed by
someone I thought was my friend. I had trusted him. And I misjudged and underestimated him...I was
devastated. When agents from the Ministry came – I was hopeless in stating my case. They didn’t
even test my wand, they just sent me to Azkaban without a trial.”

Sirius then told her of Pettigrew, James and himself being unregistered Animagi and how
Pettigrew lived for twelve years as a rat. Arabella was visibly shaken when she heard how close
Pettigrew had been to Harry Potter. After he finished telling her how he had escaped from Azkaban
in order to save Harry and how Wormtail had escaped after that night in the Shrieking Shack, she
had tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, Sirius. You don’t know how many nights I laid awake wondering how I missed signs about you.
I blamed myself since we had worked so closely together and I felt responsible for…everything.”

Sirius crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the sofa nearest Arabella’s chair. She set
her wand down and Sirius took her hands in his in a comforting gesture. The cat at this point
crawled up on the hearth and started to sleep, he was now satisfied that the visitor meant no
harm.

“That’s how I felt about Pettigrew. Thoughts of betrayal, vengeance and the bitter taste of
injustice were all my constant companions. They weren’t happy thoughts so the Dementors couldn’t
feed off of them. Somehow I managed to maintain some semblance of sanity. I don’t want you to start
thinking about Pettigrew now. He’s not worth any more aggravation for anyone. You’ve punished
yourself enough thinking about me.”

“Sirius, when I heard about what you were accused of, it hit me really hard. Hours after Lily
and James were killed, Dumbledore asked me to watch over Harry. We had the perfect plan. If I was
present when Petunia discovered Harry – then I could work to become a trusted family friend. I was
to live here and establish a close relationship with the Dursleys and be a surrogate grandparent
for Harry and Dudley. Except…that’s not what happened.”

Sirius frowned. “What happened?”

“Well, the plan worked at first,” Arabella started slowly. “I had stationed myself across the
street hiding waiting for Petunia to open her door in the morning. She screamed and fainted as soon
as she saw Harry. I rang her front doorbell to wake up her husband Vernon. When he came downstairs
I told him that I saw her faint dead away. That’s when he saw Harry and already he started in
muttering. I helped make tea and resuscitate Petunia. Then I worked on feeding and changing the two
small boys. I spent all day with them, ingratiating myself with them and offering to help them out
as much as possible. And then…I came home and found out about you and Pettigrew.”

New tears came streaming down her face. Sirius took one hand and tenderly brushed them away.

“I was devastated,” she continued. “I simply couldn’t function properly. Nothing could make me
get out of bed for a week. By the time I got over my shock and tried to reconnect with the
Dursleys, it was too late. They had already decided how they were going to treat Harry. He was an
embarrassment and they were going to try to pretend he didn’t exist. I also became an embarrassment
to them, because I knew of Harry’s existence. I pretended to accept them at their word that a close
family friend had dropped off Harry when his parents died in a car crash. So, I was someone they
turned to only in times of desperation. In order to seem less of a threat to them – I became
eccentric. The crazy old cat lady. Harry has never known that I’m here watching over the
neighbourhood to protect him from Dark Forces.”

Arabella had now finished crying. She turned and looked Sirius straight in the eye. “Dumbledore
said I was going to have a new assignment. What is it?”

“He wants you to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor.”

“Really? What happened to the last one?”

Sirius gave a wan smile. “Well, you see he’s doesn’t seem to be able to keep anyone for longer
than a year. Last year he had Alastor Moody in that position…except it wasn’t really Moody.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was actually Bartemius Crouch, Jr., a Death Eater who everyone thought died in Azkaban. He
and Wormtail had overpowered Moody. Crouch kept him hostage in his own trunk under the Imperius
curse.”

Arabella shook her head slowly. “Oh poor Alastor. He’s always been paranoid. I can’t imagine how
he’ll recover from that.”

“I know, there’s so much more I need to tell you about Crouch and what happened to Harry.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she said nodding. “Tell me, who is supposed to watch over Privet Drive while
I’m at Hogwarts?”

“Well, Dumbledore thinks that this would be a good place for me to hide out at.”

Arabella tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. “Not looking like that. Oh, we need to do a bit
of work to change your appearance. After all, you’re still a wanted fugitive.” She shook her head.
“I can’t believe that Dumbledore didn’t try to help you get rid of the convict-on-the-run look.
Honestly, you look like you just escaped from Azkaban two days ago instead of two years ago.”

Sirius gave a sheepish grin. “Well, most of the time I didn’t appear in my human form, but in my
Animagus form.”

“That won’t do you any good in *this* neighbourhood. Look, why don’t I get dinner going and
you can take a nice long, hot bath. When you get out I’ll cut your hair. Come and follow me.”

Arabella crossed to the fireplace and closed the flue and then waved her wand to disconnect it
from the network. She took Sirius down a hallway into a tiled bathroom with a bathtub that had a
shower attachment. She brought out some large fluffy towels and handed him a razor and shaving
cream.

“Everyone remembers you from your youth as clean shaven with longish hair. Now your wanted
photos show you with a beard and long wild hair. Why don’t you shave and leave a moustache? I’ll
give you a good haircut before dinner. Then we’ll work on other ways to change your appearance to
help you walk with ease in both the Muggle and the Wizarding World.”

Sirius gave her a big smile. “Thanks Bella.” He paused then said softly, “Could you do me a
favour?”

Arabella returned his smile. “What’s that?”

“Resume your true form for me. I’d like to see my old friend and not your disguise.”

Arabella nodded. “All right. Just for you. And I’ll see if I can find any clothes for you. We
need to burn these robes. Oh and before you step in the bath, could you please place five drops of
this under your tongue?”

She handed him a small bottle with a green liquid inside. Sirius looked at the bottle
quizzically.

“What is this?”

Arabella gave a small smile. “It’s to rid yourself of ticks and fleas. I give this to all of my
cats. If you’ve been living as a dog for a few years now, I’m safe in thinking you may have picked
up a few fleas. I don’t let the cats bring them in this house and I’m not letting you do it either.
Have a nice bath.”

Arabella closed the bathroom door. She could hear the bath filling with water. She then started
to imagine Sirius disrobing. She shook her head and started blushing. How long had it been? How
long since she had been held tenderly? How long had it been since she was kissed and made love to?
Far too long. It had been fifteen years since Robert’s death. Since Robert’s *murder* she
quickly corrected herself.

She opened her closet door and looked at the far end. Here were the few things of her late
husband that she had kept. She took out a white shirt, black pants and a simple black robe. She
didn’t have any undergarments for Sirius, but right now – that probably wouldn’t matter. She
doubted that when he was in Azkaban that they would replace any worn out clothes. Instead she
assumed that the robes he was wearing were the same ones he had been arrested in. Had he worn any
undergarments then, surely they would have been thrown away years ago.

Arabella then looked in her closet for her own clothes. She chose a simple black dress with
short sleeves. It was a warm summer’s evening and there was no real need for a robe. She changed
out of the frousy old lady housedress she wore into the black dress. Then she reached for a small
vial of potion. She administered three drops of the clear fluid under her tongue and looked in the
mirror waiting for it to take effect. Within seconds the wrinkles around her eyes started to melt.
Her eyesight started changing and she quickly took off her spectacles, as they were no longer
needed. Her hair colour started moving up the strands of her hair until the bun on top of her head
was now filled with a honey-blonde coloured hair instead of white. Arabella was now looking at her
true self, a forty-four year old woman. She smiled appreciatively at her reflection and noticed how
her figure had changed and firmed up.

“Not too bad, if I do say so myself. Arabella, I haven’t seen you look this young in ages!” She
laughed to herself and then rubbed her hands together, “Now about that dinner.”

Arabella walked into her kitchen and started looking in the refrigerator. What should I make,
she wondered. He probably hasn’t eaten well in years, so it won’t matter really but…He needs some
good stick to your ribs kind of food. She made her mind up and decided on Shepherd’s pie, a garden
salad and an apple crisp with vanilla ice cream for dessert. She directed her wand in many
different directions getting a knife chopping onions, while a pot was filling with water for the
potatoes to boil in. Another knife was peeling apples. The kitchen started to fill with the smell
of dinner cooking. She allowed her mind to drift backward in time.

*“Sirius, I need to talk with you about your sex life.”*

*“Arabella…please,” Sirius sputtered. “ I think my love life is my own business, thank you
very much.”*

*“It would be if you were in love with someone. But you aren’t. You have a different
girlfriend every week. It’s a liability for us. Sooner or later you’re going to be on a date with
someone who will want to kill you.”*

*Sirius looked at her darkly. “I think I can take care of myself.”*

*Arabella returned a stern look at him. “You’re endangering everyone with your reckless
behavior. You don’t even know half of these women before you go out with them. I’m assuming you
sleep with most of them. That’s putting yourself in a very vulnerable position. We simply cannot
allow you to jeopardize everything we’ve been working on in the last few years because you cannot
control your hormones.”*

*Sirius softened his tone with her. “That is easy for you and Lily and James to say. You all
have found someone to fall in love with. I haven’t. I’m just trying to find someone to
love.”*

*Arabella continued in a direct and no nonsense manner. “Love is more than just shagging
someone. You need to find someone who you truly like, someone that you can trust, someone that will
laugh at your jokes and that makes you laugh. You need to find someone who will love you for who
you are and who understands what is in your heart. Going from bed to bed like you’re doing – you
will never find love. Right now your libido is a liability. You need to either find yourself a
steady girlfriend, take a sabbatical from dating for awhile, or you’re going to have to screen your
dates with me first.”*

*“Whoa, Arabella! I’ve never seen you like this. You’re…”*

*“Direct, that’s what I am. Word around town is that you show the ladies a good time in the
sack. How come you can’t get a second or third date?”*

*Sirius blushed darkly. “I don’t have to listen to this.”*

*“You bloody well have to. You report to me and I’m telling you that we’re all lucky that you
haven’t been targeted yet and find out that a Tuesday evening girlfriend happens to be a Death
Eater in disguise. If they capture you and torture you…”*

*Sirius’s anger was rising. “I’ll never tell them anything and you bloody well know
that.”*

*“Then they’ll just kill you,” she spat at him. “Sirius you are a brilliant wizard and I don’t
want to lose you. Now start doing some thinking with that larger head of yours for a change. From
now on, you cannot just meet someone at the Leaky Cauldron and then take them back to your flat. If
you meet someone you’re interested in, you will make a date with them. But you will bring me their
name, year and house from Hogwarts and any other personal information you can gather before you are
alone with them.”*

*Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re going to do background checks on them?”*

*“You bet. I’ll try to find out anything suspicious and let you be forewarned so that you can
be forearmed. And Sirius, this is not negotiable.”*

*“Very well,” he muttered darkly under his breath.*

Arabella started sprinkling the cinnamon sugar over the layers of apple slices in the ceramic
dish. She really had liked working with Sirius, it’s just that he was so cocky and headstrong at
times. It infuriated her, but also endeared him to her because that weakness was also his greatest
strength. She remembered how Dumbledore came to her and offered her a job as a free-lance Auror.
She’d have more freedom and less bureaucracy than continuing to work for the Ministry of Magic. He
also wanted her to train and supervise two new graduates from Hogwarts that he praised highly:
Sirius Black and James Potter. Arabella’s thoughts then drifted to one of her darkest nights.

*Arabella was watching from a safe distance as two young people were kissing on a bench under
a gazebo. It was a warm autumn evening. She was quietly sitting there in her cat form in the
shadows and silently wondering whether or not this was even necessary. Sirius started to kiss the
young woman’s neck and then he started to unbutton her blouse. One button, two buttons, three
buttons. This exposed an ample amount of cleavage. Arabella started wondering, “just how far is
this guy going to go in the great outdoors?” He buried his head in the young woman’s chest and she
gave out a low moan. Then Arabella’s ears straightened and her eyes narrowed. The young woman’s arm
that was supporting her against the bench started to move, but it was not moving towards Sirius’s
back in an affectionate manner. Instead she was reaching behind the bench for something. Arabella
saw the glint of moonlight off the blade of a large knife and she transformed back into her human
form.*

*“Expelliarmus!” she roared. The knife flew towards her and she used her wand to slow the
knife down and to bring it to her. She took out a handkerchief and placed it on the handle. She
carefully smelled the blade and frowned. She then placed the weapon in a large purse.*

*Sirius had raised his head immediately when he heard the curse being uttered. His date had
flown backward and was knocked unconscious. He then saw Arabella emerge from the shadows.*

*“I was following up on a hunch of mine. There was something in her background check that just
didn’t smell right.”*

*“Thank you,” he sighed heavily and then shook his head. “Maybe I do need a sabbatical from
dating.”*

*Arabella smiled, “We’ll have to test this knife when we take her to the Ministry, but it
smells like a very potent poison on it from the Amazon rain forest. A single scratch can be lethal.
Please help me with her.”*

*Arabella conjured ropes around the young woman’s hands and Sirius slung her over his
shoulder. He carried her over to his motorcycle and Arabella climbed on the back. The unconscious
woman was then sandwiched between Sirius and Arabella. They rode in silence back to the Ministry of
Magic.*

*As they entered the Ministry’s offices Arabella strode to the front desk. “Hello, Ralph.
We’re here tonight to turn over someone who attempted to murder my partner, Sirius Black. I have
the weapon here in my purse with her fingerprints on them. We’ll revive her as soon as she is
securely in custody for interrogation.”*

*Ralph looked up with grave concern in his eyes. “Arabella, we’ve been trying to get in touch
with you for a couple hours now. Have you spoken with anyone?”*

*“Why? What happened?” she asked with great dread in her voice.*

*“It’s your husband. Robert was killed. The Dark Mark was over your house.”*

*“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”*

Arabella heard the water from the potatoes boiling over on the stove. She quickly went over and
shut off the flame. She tested the potatoes and they were done. She drained the water and then
directed her wand to a potato masher to mash them in the pan.

*Sirius was knocking on the Potters’ door. Lily answered and looked surprised to see
them.*

*“Arabella, Sirius. What brings you here at this time of night?”*

*Sirius was supporting Arabella. “It’s Robert. He was murdered tonight.”*

*Lily opened her arms and gave a strong embrace to Arabella. “Please come in. You will stay
with us tonight.” She then turned to Sirius, “Go get James, he’s in the nursery.”*

*Lily walked Arabella over to the couch.*

*“I wasn’t there Lily. I know that it was meant for me, not Robert! I was supposed to be home
for dinner, but I followed up on a hunch and…” she stammered.*

*Sirius walked back in the room with James. “And you saved my life. Arabella, if you had been
home then maybe you, Robert and I would all be dead. Would that be better?”*

*“No, but…” She broke down in sobs.*

*Lily stroked Arabella’s hair. “You need to try to calm down. I know it’s hard because you and
Robert shared such a strong love for each other, but right now you’re going to have to stop
thinking of yourself and think of your baby.”*

*“Baby?” Sirius looked at Lily and James.*

*Lily nodded, “Yes, she’s almost five months pregnant.” She then raised Arabella’s chin up and
looked her in the eye. “Everything you feel, your baby feels. You have to try and stay as calm as
you can otherwise it’ll hurt your little one.”*

*Arabella nodded but the tears continued to stream down her face.*

*James turned to Sirius, “Who’s leading the inquiry at the Ministry?”*

*“Moody.”*

*James nodded, “That’s good. At least they have someone competent in charge.”*

*Arabella then looked up, “We’ll have to put a note on the outside of the Apothecary that
it’ll be closed until further notice.”*

*“Don’t worry,” said Lily. “We’ll take care of that. Now why don’t you come with me, I’ll
start a pot of tea. Later I’ll find you a nightgown and you’ll sleep in our guest room. James, why
don’t you get some blankets so Sirius can sleep on the couch. I think she’s going to need all of
our support in the morning.”*

Lily, James and Sirius had been so supportive to her during those dark days, Arabella reflected.
They truly were dear friends. The Potters’ deaths were as much a shock to her as was her husband’s.
Dumbledore thought she was the perfect candidate to provide security for the orphaned Harry. The
position did allow her autonomy and privacy, but it was also very isolating. She had purposefully
lost contact with all of her friends and relatives in the Wizarding World. Here she was in a
neighbourhood where she was constantly on the lookout for any suspicious people or activities. She
longed for contact with those she could confide in, laugh with and share her true self and feelings
with. Tonight’s dinner with Sirius would do wonders towards filling that tremendous void in her
life.

Now she looked around the kitchen and it seemed that all was ready. She merely needed to put the
meat pie and apple crisp in the oven and let them bake. The salad was made and chilling in the
refrigerator, the table was set for two with candles and flowers. Arabella turned to the three cats
that were in her living room. She told them that she’d appreciate it if they’d stand guard outside
the house this evening and to pass the word on to the other sentries. If there were any signs of
dark magic in the neighbourhood that she’d need their reports, otherwise to please not disturb her.
To anyone else it would have sounded like she was simply meowing at them. They then turned and went
through the cat door. She’d now go back and see how Sirius was doing.

Arabella heard the bathtub draining. She knocked on the door and said, “Please don’t try to wear
those horrible rags again. I’ve got some nice clothes here for you to try.”

“Come on in.”

Arabella nervously entered the bathroom. Sirius was standing at the sink shaving and was wearing
only a bath towel wrapped around his waist. He was thin, but muscular. His long hair reached the
middle of his back and there was facial hair lining the sink in a thick blanket. He looked at her
and smiled. “You look much better. More like how I remember you.”

Arabella blushed and felt a warmth spread throughout her body.

Sirius then turned back to the mirror and took one hand and felt his smooth cheeks. “What do you
think? You like this moustache?”

“It needs a little trim. Here’s some scissors. I’ll be right back with a chair so I can cut your
hair.”

Arabella hung the clothes on the back of the door on a hook and slowly walked out to retrieve a
chair. Her heart was beating hard. Sirius looked so attractive. She didn’t know if she’d be able to
resist his charms. Then again she thought, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to either. She walked back
into the bathroom and set the chair in the middle of the floor.

“Have a seat,” she announced.

Sirius sat down and Arabella started to cut his long hair from the back. Snip. A foot of hair
fell to the floor. Snip, snip. More long and stringy clumps of hair fell onto the tile. She then
used the comb and started to cut closer to his head. She wanted a short hairstyle for him. One that
would befit an everyday working class Muggle. As the hair fell down on his shoulders, Arabella
would find herself brushing it off onto the floor. When her fingers touched his shoulders she found
they felt like they tingled with electricity.

Arabella started to chat as she continued to cut his hair, “We’ll have to come up with a good
cover for you to stay here while I’m gone. I’m thinking that I should say that I’m visiting a
sister I haven’t spoken to in twenty years. She lives in Scotland and has terminal cancer. I’m
going to help her manage in her last few months and then help to set her affairs in order after
she’s gone.”

Sirius agreed. “That sounds reasonable and no one will really be able to quibble about how long
you’ll be. As long as it takes. I like it.”

Arabella beamed. She was glad that Sirius thought it was a good cover. “And as for you, I think
you’ll be a nephew on my late husband’s side. You’ll be house sitting while I’m gone.”

“That sounds plausible enough.”

“Yes, but I also want you to have the same name for both the Muggle world as well as the
Wizarding World. It makes it far easier in case there’s a witch or wizard passing as Muggle – and I
think to help in your disguise we need to do a little more than just a shave and haircut.”

“What did you have in mind?” Sirius asked.

“I think you’ll need to age to be in your fifties and we’ll get you some nice Muggle contact
lenses for your eyes. They can change the colour to brown. I also think you need to learn an
Australian accent,” Arabella answered.

“You’re the boss. So what am I supposed to do for a job? Don’t all Muggles have jobs?” Sirius
asked.

“Hmm,” she mused. “You could be a writer who works from home. You will have to figure out how to
deal with Nadine Henderson across the street though.”

“Who’s she?”

“A single mother in her thirties with a small daughter. She looks at any man who’s not behind
bars or mentally incompetent as a potential future husband. That includes married men, I’m afraid.
She’ll be drooling the moment she sees you.”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Well, I’ll deal with her. I’m not about to make any stupid
mistakes like I did in my youth. I never truly thanked you for saving my life and for telling me
the truth about how foolish I was. Thinking back, I realize that I was fearful of ever letting
myself fall in love with someone. I was afraid of being rejected once someone knew who I really
was. So I’d cut them loose first and never allow anyone to really get close to me. That is except
for you, James and Lily.”

Arabella had to stop cutting hair for a moment because her eyes welled with tears. “Thank you,
Sirius. That means a lot to me.”

“I’ll just tell Nadine, that I’m watching this house as a favour for my aunt. That I am married
to a wonderful woman, but that we are currently separated. That our relationship has spanned many
years and right now she’s trying to sort out a lot of problems from her youth that she’s never
adequately dealt with. That I will wait for her for as long as it takes and I would do nothing to
harm her in any way. Think that’ll work?”

“It does for me.”

Arabella then turned to cut his hair in the front of his face. This was far harder as she felt
Sirius’s eyes on her. She could also feel his breath on her face. She found her heart beating
faster. As she was finishing up and surveying his haircut, Sirius reached up and pulled at the
hairpins holding Arabella’s hair on the top of her head. As the pins were released, her hair
cascaded down over her shoulders and fell past her waist.

Sirius gave a warm smile as he helped to smooth her hair over her shoulders. “That’s better.
That’s the way I remember you. I always loved your hair.”

Arabella looked into his blue-gray eyes. They were smiling at her and then they changed. She saw
a hunger and a longing that she recognized.

“Bella…” Sirius whispered, stroking the side of her face.

Arabella leaned forward and kissed him. Their lips touched and she felt like she was on fire.
The kiss was deep and their tongues met causing her to melt into his arms as he pulled her close to
his chest. His arms swept her legs onto his lap. Arabella dropped the comb and scissors onto the
floor and heard them clatter as they hit the tile. Her hands were running through his hair. Sirius
slowly unzipped the back of her dress and unsnapped her bra. He then slipped the right shoulder of
her dress down exposing a breast. He slid his lips down her neck and then started to lick and kiss
her nipple. Arabella’s breathing slowed down. Sirius then took his hand and placed it under the hem
of her dress and slowly moved it upwards towards the juncture between her thighs and gently groped
it. Arabella uttered a low moan and then took her right hand and placed it under her legs. She
found the gap in the towel and then squeezed his erection. Sirius groaned with pleasure.

Arabella released him and stood. She took Sirius by the hand and they walked across the hall to
her bedroom. The towel fell on the floor. She pulled back the covers to the bed and Sirius helped
remove her clothing. They fell on the bed and found their hands roaming over each other’s bodies.
Their legs were entwined and as Sirius entered her, they both gasped. Their lovemaking was
frenzied. It was as if the world was going to end in five minutes and they needed to make each
second count. When it was over they were both panting and drenched in sweat.

Sirius tried to think of something to say but didn’t know what was appropriate. Instead he
simply started to kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her eyes and then her lips. He didn’t want this
moment to ever end. Arabella felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She had never felt so loved and so
complete. Not even with Robert. She was going to be certain that nothing happened to Sirius. She
was never going to lose someone she loved again.

“I think our dinner is ready,” Arabella said quietly.

“Mmm, I did work up an appetite,” Sirius said lewdly.

“Yeah, well, so did I. Let’s go eat before the dinner burns in the oven.”

They threw on some bathrobes and then Arabella glanced around. “Maybe we ought to clean up the
bathroom a little.”

They walked in and saw his long black hair everywhere.

“My God, it looks like a bear shed in here,” she laughed as she picked up his tattered robes.
She then pointed her wand at the largest piles of hair and commanded, “Accio!” The hair flew to
her. She repeated this by waving her wand in every direction around the room, the sink and the
bathtub. She placed the clumps of hair on the robes and then went back to the bedroom and collected
the hair that was in her bed. She took the whole mess with her to the living room and placed it in
the fireplace. She opened the flue and commanded, “Incendio!” Flames appeared and consumed the hair
and clothes in a matter of seconds.

“Ugggh! There’s nothing quite like the smell of burning hair,” said Sirius. When the flames died
down Arabella closed the flue again.

“Come on, it’ll smell much nicer in the kitchen,” as Arabella took him by the arm.

As they walked inside Sirius began to beam. “The table looks wonderful and it smells incredible.
Is that Shepherd’s pie and…” he sniffed, “baked apples?”

Arabella smiled and nodded.

“Those are my favourites, thank you.” Sirius picked her up and twirled her about the room. He
gave her a kiss and set her down. She blushed and waved her wand to open the oven door and bring
the meat pie to rest on a hot plate at the table. The apple crisp went to rest on the top of the
stove to cool. She then waved the oven to turn itself off.

After Arabella dished out the food for both of them, she turned to him and sighed heavily,
“Okay, I guess it’s time for you to tell me what I don’t want to hear. Tell me how Voldemort came
back and what has happened to Harry.”

Over dinner he told her about the fateful evening of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament
and all the terrible events that transpired that night and all the planning by Voldemort that had
led up to it. When Sirius told her how the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge allowed a dementor to
administer a Kiss to Crouch, Jr. and how he then refused to believe Harry’s testimony about
Voldemort’s return, Arabella grew visibly upset.

“I don’t trust Fudge. Never have,” she spat bitterly. “When I was still at the Ministry and we
were both in the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, he always seemed to bungle cases that he should
have been able to handle. Somehow or other there would always be an excuse such as insufficient
evidence, especially when it was people like Lucius Malfoy who were under suspicion. Other times
cases would seem to just fall completely solved into his lap without any apparent effort on his
part. His ascent in the Ministry seemed to be on an accelerated course, even when others with
better records should have been promoted before him. I found it very curious at the time.”

“Do you think he’s a Death Eater?” asked Sirius.

“No. I don’t think he cavorts around in costume wearing a mask,” replied Arabella. “But I do
think he’s corrupt. I think he was a collaborator and probably a spy for them. I think Voldemort
used Fudge to put away those who betrayed him and to send a message to those who were wavering in
their support. I think Fudge has skeletons buried in his backyard and had Crouch eliminated before
he himself was implicated and someone decided to start digging in sensitive areas.”

She looked Sirius straight in the eye. “You represent a very real threat to him. In order to
clear your name we will need to capture Pettigrew and the political fallout of his actions in your
case will cost Fudge his job. He’ll do anything to prevent that from happening.” She shook her
head. “Damn! I should have questioned the story more closely about your guilt since it was
*Fudge* handling the case. I should have…”

Sirius took one of her hands and held it in his. “You’ve tortured yourself enough with the past.
Let’s just concentrate on how best to deal with the challenges that are before us. And there are
many of those.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “Who else did Dumbledore ask you to notify about this news?”

“I’ve told Remus Lupin and now you. I’m supposed to contact Mundungus Fletcher next.”

“Good. We can take care of that tomorrow,” she said smiling. “Fletcher relieves me periodically
when I have to leave my post for any extended period of time. He can’t communicate with the
Kneazles, but he can at least respond and cast spells if the monitors show dangerous activity in
the neighbourhood. Tomorrow, I’ll need to show you around Little Whinging, get you some coloured
contact lenses, pick up some supplies, and so forth. I’ll also have to set up an appointment to
meet with Dumbledore to find out what he expects of me as an instructor, like required textbooks,
areas to cover for the different years, that type of thing. We will also one day need to go to
Diagon Alley to pick up Harry’s supplies for next year and…get you a new wand.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?” said Sirius. “Have you thought of how I’m going to fool
Mr. Ollivander and get a new wand?”

“We’ll have to make sure he’s away from his store at the time. I’ll see if Dumbledore can help
arrange that.” She started to drum her fingers on the table. “I also want to ask him about this
summer and Harry. I think he should spend as much time with us as possible. He needs guidance,
support and any tutoring we can give him.”

Arabella looked at the table. There was only about a spoonful or so left of the apple crisp,
otherwise it was all gone. Sirius had eaten three helpings of everything. She was pleased with that
and hoped that he would soon stop being undernourished. She waved her wand at the dishes on the
table and they went into the sink where they magically started to wash themselves. Minutes later
everything was cleaned and put away.

“I was thinking…” Arabella said in a sly voice.

“Yesssss,” Sirius drawled in reply.

“That I’m still covered with sweat from earlier and I thought a nice warm bath sounded nice,”
she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Care to join me?”

“Absolutely,” he said as he rose from the table.

Sirius followed Arabella into the bathroom where she started to prepare the bath. She started
the water running and poured in a generous amount of bubble bath, she waved her wand to extend the
bath sideways to better accommodate both of them, and placed two dozen candles around the room.
“Incendio!” they were all lit and she turned the electric lights out. The warm glow from the
candles danced about the room. She then conjured soft pillows for their heads in the bathtub and
laid out two fluffy towels on a chair.

“I know you prefer my hair down, but I’d like to put up so it doesn’t get all wet in the bath.
I’ll wash it in the morning,” Arabella said as she quickly wound her long hair into a loose knot on
her head.

Sirius then came up from behind her and kissed the nape of her neck. He gently untied her
bathrobe and started to run his hands down her body. She turned around and opened his bathrobe and
pulled it off him. Her bathrobe gently fell to the floor and they both stepped into the bathtub.
Sirius leaned his head against the pillows and then pulled Arabella to lean her back against his
chest. He nibbled an earlobe as he took a sponge and tenderly washed her bosoms.

“Hmmm, you do know how to make a woman feel desirable,” she murmured.

Sirius shifted her slightly so that he could look her in the face. “You are by far the most
desirable woman I have ever known in my life. I am hopelessly in love with you. I have never felt
as connected – heart, body and soul to anyone as I do for you. I want you to know that I will never
do anything to hurt you.”

She smiled and nodded softly. He kissed her on the forehead and said, “I had no idea what to
expect in seeing you today. All I was hoping for was that you wouldn’t hex me.”

“I came close,” she chuckled.

“I certainly didn’t expect this and I feel overwhelmed by your love and passion,” he said.

“Same here. I had no idea this morning that by nightfall I would be here with you,” she said as
she gestured about the bath.

Sirius then cleared his throat, “In my younger days, I was always prepared and took
precautions…so that no woman would have to worry.”

Arabella started laughing hoarsely, “Sirius, are you worried about me getting pregnant? I
haven’t ovulated in years. My ovaries have been stuck in an eighty-year old woman’s body. I don’t
even know if I’ll ever go through menopause or if I’ve just leapfrogged past it.” Then her voice
softened. “I long since gave up any hope of being a mother when I miscarried. Being isolated here
for so long, I also gave up on love. And as of right now, I’m beginning to hope again. I would
welcome any chance I could to become a mother and nothing, nothing would make me happier than to
bear your child.”

Their eyes locked for moment and then they both had tears welling up in their eyes. Sirius
pulled her close to his chest and kissed the top of her head and sighed heavily. Then the emotion
came over him and he quietly choked back tears while she held him tightly. She softly whispered,
“Sirius, I love you with all my heart and soul.”

Sirius started to tell her about the horrors of Azkaban and his struggle with living two years
as a fugitive. Fourteen years of repressing his pain and suffering came bubbling to the surface. He
told her of the depression he had felt and the times he had almost considered suicide to end his
pain, except that the thought of Harry Potter’s safety kept him from ever going through with it.
Arabella held and comforted him while he poured his heart out to her. By the time he was finished
talking, the water had gone cold and the candles had almost burned themselves out.

After a notable silence, Arabella broke their embrace and looked directly at Sirius. “I think we
should get ready for bed. I have a few things that I need to do first. One of which is feed my
cats.” She gave a sheepish look, “I kind of forgot about that little detail. Besides I’m feeling
like a giant prune right now.”

As they rose from the tub, Sirius handed her a towel. “Would you mind if I borrowed your wand
for a few minutes? You’ve taken care of everything so far and I’d like to return the favour and
give you a little surprise.”

“Sure,” she said as she gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

After drying themselves, they put their bathrobes back on. Arabella gave Sirius a new toothbrush
and left him in the bathroom. She went to the kitchen to prepare the dinner for her cats. After
placing their food in the dishes, she called them to eat. She then walked upstairs and opened a
bedroom door. Inside was a room filled with strange looking machines. She turned to a long-haired
white cat that was watching a monitor that had a schematic diagram of the neighbourhood.

“Anything to report Snowy?” she asked.

“All’s quiet,” he yowled back.

“Dinner is ready. Thank you for pulling a longer shift. Tufty had a nap earlier. He should be
fine to pull the overnight shift. Please go downstairs and send him here after he’s finished
eating.”

The cat stood, stretched and then walked silently out of the room. Arabella methodically checked
all of the surveillance equipment. Within a few minutes an orange tabby cat sauntered into the room
and leapt up on the chair that Snowy had been perched at. Arabella stroked the cat a few times and
said, “Let me know if you see any Dark Magic or magic from humans tonight. Otherwise, I’ll see you
in the morning.”

She went back downstairs and went back to the bathroom. As she washed her face she looked
carefully at her reflection in the mirror. She saw a contentment in her eyes that hadn’t been there
in years. She sighed and allowed her mind to replay the lovemaking session earlier that day. That
level of passion just couldn’t be sustained, it would kill them if they tried. After brushing her
teeth, she brushed her hair and gave her reflection a quick smile. Let’s go see what he has in
store for me now she thought.

Sirius had moved all the candles from the bathroom and then magically restored their height.
There was a heady smell of sandalwood incense that covered the room and he had discovered a compact
disc player and the haunting sounds of Enya’s music played softly in the background. He had
transfigured her sheets to being satin and had taken the flowers from the kitchen table and
sprinkled rose petals all over the bed. Sirius took Arabella by the hand and they gently crawled
onto the bed.

He began kissing her tenderly on the mouth and then all around her face and neck. Then he moved
to the bottom of the bed and started massaging her feet and slowly progressed up her legs. He
massaged every portion of her body with a tenderness that amazed Arabella. When he massaged her
inner thighs she groaned with pleasure. He then slowly worked his way up to her breasts. He started
to knead them and then changed the touch to lightly tracing the outline of her nipples. He kissed,
licked and suckled them while one of his hands carefully slipped between her legs. This caused her
desire for him to become overwhelming. Arabella helped guide him inside of her. He slowly and
rhythmically pleasured her. He took his time and allowed her to have numerous waves of ecstasy. By
the time that he had reached his climax, they were covered once again in a light sheen of
sweat.

Afterwards they lay with their heads on their pillows gazing into each other’s eyes. Arabella
broke their silence by saying, “I don’t think I could have survived if we had tried to repeat our
earlier performance.”

“Well that had been the product of our collective thirty years of pent-up sexual energy. I don’t
ever want to be in that situation ever again.”

“You also had fifteen years? But you were put in Azkaban fourteen years ago,” she asked
slyly.

“Well, after you saved my life I did take a sabbatical from dating. The scare of my almost dying
may not have been enough, but when Robert was murdered that same night…the thought of trying to
sweet talk women so that I could get them into bed just seemed so incredibly shallow. You were in
such pain at that time, I wanted to be there for you,” he said stroking the side of her face. “You
were so obsessed with finding his murderers that I knew I needed to watch over you.”

“I know I was being difficult,” she nodded. “Lily kept warning me about what it was doing to my
baby, but I just couldn’t leave it alone and let Moody be the only one following the case.”

“I have never seen Moody so angry than the night he and Frank Longbottom killed Rosier and
Wilkes. Mind you, I would have killed them myself and gone to Azkaban after they used the Cruciatus
curse on you,” he said bitterly. “Moody and Longbottom were just quicker than I was. Since they
were given permission by the Ministry to use the Unforgivable curses and I wasn’t – I was glad they
were faster, but I would have killed them for you.”

A tear slowly fell down Arabella’s cheek, “That was the darkest day of my life. Thank you for
staying with me while I was being treated at St. Mungo’s. If you hadn’t been there to help me
through it… I don’t know if I would have survived.”

“I had to fight to be there. They felt that only immediate family could stay, but I prevailed.
You didn’t have any immediate family left and I knew you shouldn’t be alone then. I insisted that
as your partner I was as close as family,” he said softly. Sirius then smoothed the hair from her
face. “It was then that I started falling in love with you. Here was this wonderfully strong and
beautiful woman who needed me. I was afraid of ever disappointing you afterward. I don’t know if I
would have ever acted on my feelings toward you, I was afraid…”

She gave a rueful smile, “Afraid of how it might change our working relationship?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Well, I know I wouldn’t have been ready then. It took me several years to finally come to terms
with Robert’s murder and the loss of our child. I guess I don’t take the loss of loved ones very
easily,” she said softly. “And when I thought you had betrayed James and Lily, I went into shock. I
couldn’t believe that I had allowed myself to become emotionally dependent on someone who was evil.
That’s what tormented me all these years. And today to find out that I had been right about you all
along, I realized that I had fallen in love with you years ago but never admitted it to
myself.”

Sirius gently touched the side of her face, “You are an incredible woman. I feel like I’m the
luckiest man in the world tonight.”

“Even though you’re still a fugitive wanted for a crime you didn’t commit?”

“Well, there’s still that…but tonight I’m in the arms of the woman that I love. A woman that
I’ve loved for years. Right now, that’s all that I want to concentrate on,” as he leaned closer to
her and kissed her fully on the mouth. Then he rested his head back on the pillow and she snuggled
up with her head resting on his chest. She waved her wand to quickly snuff out all the candles and
they quickly fell into blissful slumber. For the first time in years, Sirius was not haunted in his
dreams by the dementors of Azkaban. Instead, he allowed himself to dream about a life with
Arabella.

*

The next morning she woke to see Sirius propped up on one elbow and gazing down at her. She
smiled as she looked up at him. “I guess I didn’t just dream that I had a wonderful lover in bed
with me.”

He leaned over and started kissing her gently. Then his tongue started to probe her mouth while
his hand started to softly trace the outline of her breast. Arabella broke the kiss, “As nice as it
would be to start our day that way, I have to turn you down. We have a lot of work to do and we’ll
just have to wait until this evening to continue.”

Sirius looked at the clock, “But it’s only six o’clock in the morning. That’s still very
early…”

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, “What am I going to do with you? Come on and let’s get
our day started.”

Sirius smiled, “Well you can’t blame me for trying.”

Arabella was getting out of bed and putting on her bathrobe. “You can stay there for a few
minutes while I take my shower if you’d like. However, I do have a routine and you’re going to have
to learn it since you’ll be taking over the surveillance here. I also know that we’re going to have
many errands to do today and we’ll be lucky to get everything done before nightfall.”

Sirius leaned back on his pillow and smiled at her. “My love, the take-charge lady. Sure you
don’t want me to join you in that shower?”

“No, because I think you’re going to be needing a cold shower,” she said as she playfully threw
her pillow at him.

Arabella started on her morning routine. Shower, dry and fix her hair, get dressed, put a pot of
tea on the stove, listen to the Wireless Wizarding Network morning news, and get a report from the
cat doing the overnight shift of surveillance in the control room. She also performed her daily
disillusionment charm on the Kneazles so they appeared to Muggles as regular cats. Ordinarily she
would also review the morning Muggle newspaper, but today she’d have to wait until later when she
could resume the old lady appearance and retrieve the paper from her stoop. Sirius appeared in the
kitchen dressed in the clothes she had set out for him the previous night. He looked incredibly
handsome and Arabella gave him a warm hug and kiss.

“It’s seven o’clock now. Time for the aging potion,” she handed him a bottle of yellowish
liquid. “Please place twenty drops under your tongue. One drop for every year.”

“Twenty?” asked Sirius.

“Yeah, it’ll be easier for you to remember that way. You need to find an age and stick with
it.”

“I thought you said you’ve been trapped in an eighty year old woman’s body for years?” he
asked.

“Well, I started out at seventy and progressed until I turned eighty. After that I decided that
no one really pays that much attention as to how an old lady looks and I held steady after that.
Hurry up and take it, I still need to take my dose,” she said urgently.

Sirius took the dropper and carefully administered the drops. Arabella took the bottle from him
and quickly placed the drops under her tongue. Instantly they both began to age. Sirius started to
go gray around the temples and crow’s feet began to form around his eyes. Arabella continued to age
long after he had finished aging. Her shoulders shrunk, her hair was all white, and she had
wrinkles all over her face. She placed her spectacles upon her face and nodded at her reflection in
a hand held mirror. She then handed the mirror to Sirius. He looked surprised to see the face
looking back.

“Wow. I do look different. I mean I see the similarity, but…”

“Yes, and how is your vision? Has it deteriorated at all?”

Sirius looked across the house to the far living room wall and shook his head. “Nope I can still
make out things far away.”

Arabella handed him yesterday’s paper, “Try reading this.”

Sirius started to look at the paper and then found himself moving it farther and farther away.
“Okay, so my vision has changed.”

“Good. That way getting you contact lenses will serve a dual purpose. But right now we need to
do our morning surveillance of the neighbourhood. You will need to take off that robe – it’s not
Mugglewear. And I’ve got a pair of sandals for you near the door. We’ll transfigure them to fit
your feet. That’ll have to do until we can go shopping later today and get you some new clothes and
shoes.” She then handed him a pair of dark sunglasses. “Please put these on. I don’t want anyone
seeing the colour of your eyes before we get you some contacts.”

“How long does this potion last?”

“Twenty-four hours. I take it every morning at the same time. That way my body became adjusted
to the change. It is very difficult on your body to change back and forth.” She then read the
expression on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll willingly endure any discomfort for the next two months
so you’ll have a lover by nighttime who’s not an octogenarian.”

“Thanks,” he said bemusedly.

“But I think you should try to get adjusted to your new age. You look gorgeous to me whether
you’re thirty-five or fifty-five. It won’t matter to me.” Arabella walked to the front door and
then turned as if she forgot something, “If we run into any of the neighbours, please follow my
lead. Oh and I’ve thought of a name for you.”

“What is it?”

“Well, at first I thought of Joseph Diogenes, but I reconsidered because it might be a bit too
risky as it is doubtful that if anyone tried looking your name up that they’d find anyone by that
name.”

“Diogenes?” Sirius said with humour in his voice. “You mean I would be out looking for an honest
man?”

“Exactly. And Joseph was in reference to Joseph of the Bible who was unjustly accused of a crime
and spent many years in prison. He also had been betrayed by his brothers, not unlike being
betrayed by Pettigrew.”

Sirius nodded, “Okay. Joseph works. Do you have another last name in mind?”

“O’Brien? I know the Aussies have a lot of Irish surnames and it was the first one to pop into
my brain. I know it’s very common, so if they look up Joseph O’Brien they’d have difficulty in
trying to work through all the different candidates.”

“Now why is it that you want me to become Australian?”

“Because the wizarding community is very small here in Britain. If you start talking with
witches or wizards, there’s a good chance they’ll know someone that would have graduated in the
time that you’ll be claiming you were at Hogwarts. It’s just too risky. Australia on the other hand
is far away. Hopefully you won’t run into too many people with relatives from Down Under. Besides,
the accent is not that much different. You should be able to pick it up quickly. Now let’s go.”

Arabella waved her wand at the sandals sitting next to the door, so that they fit his feet. She
then took his arm and ushered him out the front door.

They started to walk down the quiet suburban block. The houses seemed like they had been made by
a cookie cutter, it was hard to distinguish one from another. The only difference seemed to be the
different plants in the front yard and some had different lawn ornaments. Arabella’s yard had the
most lawn ornaments of them all. Of course many of them were magical instruments disguised as lawn
gnomes or mushrooms. She also had the only yard without grass. Mowing was too problematic, so
instead it was filled with lavender and roses in the front yard.

As they strolled down the sidewalk it seemed as if everyone was still inside fixing their
morning breakfast. Arabella gave a small motion towards a house that was across the street from
where they were walking. The curtains had parted and they were being watched.

“That didn’t take her long. You’ll be meeting Nadine on our trip home,” she said
matter-of-factly. She squeezed his arm tightly. “See what you can do to make yourself as
unattractive to her as possible. It won’t be easy, because one – you’re gorgeous and charming and
two – because she’s desperate and pretty dim. Don’t be afraid of being blunt with her, subtlety is
not something she can recognize.”

He patted her hand reassuringly. “I’ve got some ideas in mind that should do the trick.”

As they walked the six-block perimeter surrounding the Dursley’s Privet Drive home she pointed
out the hidden monitoring devices and showed him how to verify they were fully operational. Some
were as small and as inconspicuous as a paperclip attached to a telephone poll. Others were as
large as birdhouses and attached to tree limbs. Some were monitors for magical activity and while
others had enchantments attached to them to prevent Apparation within the zone. There were
seventy-two devices in all. Arabella then took Sirius down Privet Drive to show him the infamous
Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry’s childhood home.

“This street is Unplottable for wizards. They simply cannot find it even with a map. Unless, I
specifically lift the enchantments and allow their entry,” explained Arabella.

“I tried to catch a glimpse of Harry after I escaped from Azkaban. I wondered why I couldn’t
find his house. I knew the address because his fame reached into the confines of the prison and
many of the captured Death Eaters spoke of how they wanted to go to Number 4 Privet Drive if they
were ever released and finish the job that their master couldn’t finish,” Sirius said darkly.

“Yes, it was hard to keep Harry’s whereabouts a secret from the Daily Prophet. Later we had
quite a tourist trade of witches and wizards coming to Little Whinging in the hopes of catching a
glimpse of The Boy Who Lived. None were able to find his house though. I did see quite a few people
coming through this neighbourhood – at least outside on the perimeter. Thankfully, no one ever
realized who I was.”

She then pointed out the street lamps to Sirius and told him to look closely at the bulbs. They
emitted an eerie orange glow even during the daylight hours. “Dumbledore put an enchantment on
these lamps the night that Harry was left on the Dursley’s doorstep. That’s the source of the
Unplottable nature for wizards. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work for other magical beings. I had a
great fright the summer after Harry’s first year. A house-elf had repeatedly Apparated within the
Zone and was intercepting his owl posts. Then this elf threatened Harry and performed a Hover Charm
and it set off the outdated magic detector that Dumbledore allowed the Ministry to install on their
roof. They couldn’t tell the difference between elfin magic and human magic.”

“But yours could?” he asked.

“Well, there is so much magic around from other magical beings. Fairies, gremlins, ghosts,
poltergeists, elves…that I had those brands of magic calibrated out because it was causing too much
background noise. I honestly never thought that it would be a problem because I didn’t think any of
those creatures would ever be a threat to his security. I’ve since changed it and had to bring more
sentries on to come and investigate all the instances of magic. The night when the elf performed
magic in the Dursley’s household the damned Ministry automatically sent an owl warning Harry that
he could be expelled if he cast another charm outside school and then…” her tone became very
bitter.

“What happened then?”

“The Dursleys responded by locking him away in his room. It looked like they were planning on
holding him prisoner there until he was an adult. I became frantic and started thinking up all
kinds of desperate schemes to get him out of there, when the answer to my prayers literally fell
out of the sky.”

Sirius hadn’t heard this story before and was very intrigued. “Go on.”

“Ron Weasley and his twin brothers Fred and George had decided to check on Harry since none of
Ron’s letters were ever answered. Their father had bewitched a Ford Anglia convertible and they
were flying it to rescue Harry. When it came into my radar screen it took me a few moments to lift
the veil to allow them to find Harry’s house. They had to take bars off of his bedroom window to
get him out. They took him back to the their house for the rest of the summer.”

“You said you brought on more sentries, doesn’t that pose a problem with your neighbours having
so many cats?” he asked.

“It would if they behaved like ordinary cats. They have an understanding with all the cats and
dogs in the neighbourhood and there is never any trouble between them. My sentries also do not hunt
any birds, mice, moles, etc. It would interfere with their surveillance activities. They also don’t
use anyone’s garden as a litter box. Because of this, no one seems to care that I’ve got eight cats
that patrol the neighbourhood on a daily basis.”

Vernon Dursley walked out of his house and strode to his car. He was in too much of a hurry to
even notice the retreating form of the woman who babysat his nephew for years. Sirius turned around
and saw Vernon as he climbed inside his car. He muttered a few choice obscenities regarding Harry’s
uncle under his breath.

“Yes, well all of that is true. I’ve said things far worse about them,” she said patting his
hand. “The only saving grace is that Harry is protected from Dark Magic by being in the care of his
blood relatives. Unfortunately, they’re despicable people who treat him horribly. That’s why I’m
going to see if I can get Dumbledore to change his mind about letting Harry know who I am.” She
checked her watch and shook her head. “We are behind schedule, but hopefully we’ll be able to get
most things on my list done today. Let’s head back home.”

As they turned the corner on their street Arabella gave his arm a squeeze. “Try to use that
accent as best you can,” she whispered.

A young woman was waving to them as she crossed the street. She was wearing a black and white
striped dress that was worn very tightly and the broad horizontal stripes accentuated her curves.
The neckline was a bit too plunging for office wear as it showed off her ample cleavage. She was a
bleach-bottle blonde wearing red lipstick and bright blue eye shadow.

“Good morning Mrs. Figg, I saw that you have a visitor with you,” she panted as she came to a
stop before them. “Who is this charming man?”

“Good morning, Nadine. This is my nephew Joseph.”

“Hello, Joseph!”

“G’day.”

“He’ll be staying with me for awhile,” continued Arabella.

“Oh really? Well, I’ll have to invite you over for dinner and so we can get to know each other,”
she said batting her eyelashes that were heavily clumped with mascara.

Arabella shook her head quickly, “Oh I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Poor Joseph has
tremendous food allergies to a whole host of foods. It’s very hard to cook for him.”

Sirius then added, “Plus I keep Kosher.”

“Kosher?” asked Nadine.

“That and he’s also a vegan,” added Arabella.

“A vegan?” Nadine repeated incredulously. A look of I-can’t-believe-you’re-one-of-those crossed
her eyes.

“I can’t tell you how difficult it is to cook for him. I had to change the menu ten times last
night to find something that he could eat. Oh and you can’t even cook something for yourself to eat
that he’s allergic to. The smell alone in the house will make him break out in hives,” Arabella
quickly added.

“Oh, well maybe you could just come over after dinner sometime for coffee or cocktails?” she
said hopefully.

“I don’t think so,” Sirius said. “I’m not inta small talk and there aren’t many people who can
tolerate me after about five minutes or so. There’s my aunt and my luvly wife of twenty-five years.
Other than that, I wind up saying somethin’ blunt that hurts people’s feelins’.”

Nadine blinked and then continued on. “So how long did you say you were staying?”

A small child no older than three was standing at the front door of Nadine’s house started
wailing, “Mommmmmy.” Nadine turned around to the child and said in a sing-song voice, “Hang on
sweetie, I’ll be there in a few minutes!” Then she quickly turned back to Sirius and gave him her
full attention.

“Well, he’s just visiting for right now, but I daresay he may wind up house-sitting for me,”
said Arabella.

“Really?” Nadine said cheerfully.

“Yes, my older sister has taken quite ill. She has terminal cancer and the doctors aren’t sure
how long she’s got. Anyway, she’s been deteriorating and I fear she won’t be able to take care of
herself much longer. I’m thinking of staying with her and caring for her during those last few
months she has left, then I’ll have to stay and take care of the details of her estate. Joseph has
agreed that he would watch my house for me.”

“Is it your mother who is ill?” asked Nadine worriedly to Sirius.

“No, Joseph is my late husband’s sister’s son,” replied Arabella.

“What about your wife? Will she be staying with you?” Nadine asked suspiciously.

“She’s going through some rough times right now. She’s seeing a therapist ta help her. We
decided that during this time that it was best ta be apart. I’ll wait as long as I have ta for her.
I’d never leave her. And I’m hopeful that I will convince her ta visit me here once in awhile. So,
if ya see me with a beautiful woman with long blondish brown hair – that’s my beloved Catherine,”
answered Sirius.

“She looks a lot like I did when I was her age,” quickly added Arabella. “She is a wonderful
woman and I will simply disown you Joseph if you do anything to hurt her.”

“You sound like you’re from Australia?” asked Nadine trying to quickly change the subject.

“Originally. I’ve lived in Britain for many years, but it’s hard ta lose the accent you were
born with,” responded Sirius.

“So, do you work around here?” asked Nadine.

“He’s a writer,” offered Arabella.

“Well, I’m more of an academic than a writer. But I’ll be taking a sabbatical this year so I can
focus my energies on writing journal articles that I just haven’t had the time for,” added
Sirius.

“Oh really? I’d love to read your work sometime,” Nadine chirped.

“No you wouldn’t. Very few people do. It’s very dry, boring academic writing. I need ta do it
for my career or I wouldn’t bother. My writings appear in publications that have probably a
circulation of fifty academics. One of the articles I’ll be writing will deal with how the
Protestant Reformation and the Enlightenment have influenced modern economic policy,” Sirius said
in a haughty manner.

“Really?” said Nadine dully as her eyes got a glazed over look in them.

Sirius then gave a tremendous sneeze.

“Bless you. Is it your allergies, dear?” asked Arabella as she handed him a handkerchief.

“No, it’s that harsh perfume she’s wearing. I’m starting ta have a migraine,” he said putting a
hand to his forehead.

Nadine stared at him with a look of deep disappointment. Then the child started wailing again,
“Mommmmmmmy!!!!”

“I think your daughter needs you. She’s all starkers,” Sirius said with contempt.

Nadine turned around and looked at her naked daughter standing at the screen door. She became
instantly enraged and started bellowing.

“EMILY! I TOLD YOU I WOULD ONLY BE A FEW MINUTES!”

She started stomping across the street. About half-way she absentmindedly waved in Arabella and
Sirius’s direction and said, “Bye!”

Arabella was biting her lip in trying to hold back the laughter. The giggles started and Sirius
patted her on the back. They reached her front door and as soon as they were safely inside she
roared with laughter.

“You were ruddy brilliant! I have never seen Nadine have such a look of revulsion in her eyes
about a man, ever. What was that stuff you said about economic theory anyway?”

Sirius shook his head laughing, “I have no idea. I just made it up and figured she wasn’t the
type to know anything about religious history, philosophy or economic theory. It was just stuff I
remembered hearing about in Muggle Studies class.”

“Oh my, I haven’t had a good laugh like that in years. Whew!” Arabella sat down in a chair and
had to catch her breath from laughing. “One really good thing is that by nightfall, everyone on
this street will know our cover. Nadine will be sure to spread the word and I daresay that no one
is going to be bothering you too much.”

“If they do, I’ll just put on my surly academic attitude and frighten them off,” he laughed.

“Oh and thanks for bringing up ‘Catherine.’ You’ve given me a cover so I won’t have to worry if
I show my true form,” she said giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Anything to help my lover,” he smiled.

She stood up and crossed to the kitchen. “Well, it’s time we had some breakfast and then we’ve
got a very full day ahead of us.”

They had a large breakfast of scrambled eggs, kippers, potatoes, tea and toast. Arabella then
called Albus Dumbledore by the fire on her stove.

“Albus, I accept your new assignment. I’ve already started training my replacement and working
on his assimilation in the neighbourhood. I do have a question for you though.”

“And what is that?” asked Dumbledore.

“Doesn’t Hagrid offer to procure magical ingredients for Mr. Ollivander? I was planning on going
to Diagon Alley soon and wouldn’t want to miss seeing my favourite wand maker.”

Dumbledore smiled as he understood her cryptic message. “Why yes, I believe that Hagrid will
probably be helping Mr. Ollivander very soon.”

“I also wanted to set up an appointment to see you in person. I think there are many details
that we need to discuss regarding my future assignment.”

“Why don’t you meet me in my office this Friday at eleven. The students will be leaving that
morning on the Hogwarts Express and we can discuss things over lunch.”

“Thank you, Albus,” she replied and watched as his head disappeared from the flames.

Mundungus Fletcher was contacted next. Arabella told him that she needed to speak with him in
person because she had dire news for him. Minutes later, Fletcher appeared at her hearth. He was a
large, crotchety old wizard with a grizzled beard and large gaps between his teeth. Arabella told
him the situation regarding Voldemort’s return and then told him of Sirius’s innocence. At that
point Sirius came out of the kitchen and showed himself. Fletcher was astounded at how Sirius
looked and nodded in approval. He then started on a tirade regarding Fudge and how he thought the
Ministry of Magic was filled with incompetents, fools and Death Eaters. When he started to
reminisce about the war against Grindlewald, Arabella steered the conversation back to getting
Fletcher to agree to watch over the Zone when she needed to take Sirius out for errands. She then
made telephone calls to make optical and dental appointments for Sirius that day.

Arabella introduced Sirius to the wonders of Muggle bus transportation and gave him a broad
overview of Little Whinging. They went clothes shopping and picked up several bags worth of Muggle
clothing for Sirius. They also picked up some videotaped travelogues for Australia as well as the
movie, “A Cry in the Dark” which was set in Australia. While he was at the dentist he had his teeth
cleaned, x-rays taken and they made further appointments to fill six cavities. His eye appointment
resulted in ordering bifocal extended-wear coloured contact lenses that would be ready in a few
days. Arabella had to use a little suggestive magic with both the receptionists at the dentist and
optometrist offices that the identification cards shown to them were for Joseph O’Brien. Earlier
over the phone she had used some suggestive magic to make available appointments suddenly appear on
their schedules.

They arrived home in the late afternoon to find Mundungus Fletcher in an irritable mood. His
inability to communicate with the cats made it difficult for him to perform surveillance in the
Zone without spending the entire time staring at the monitor hoping to not spot any suspicious
activity.

“Mundungus, would you like to stay for dinner?” asked Arabella. “I’m going to make
meatloaf.”

“Sounds good,” he grumbled in reply. “I don’t know how your cats sit and look at these monitors
all day. Little blips from fairies and pixies were constantly on the screen. Every time I went to
the loo, those cats kept taking my seat leaving all their damned hair on it. I hope you get all
your errands run soon. I don’t really want to do this everyday.”

“Why don’t you come downstairs and talk with me while I get dinner ready? I’ve got a little
whiskey if you’d care for a nip.”

Mundungus got up and stumbled down the stairs complaining about his sore back and legs.

Sirius whispered in Arabella’s ear, “Why did you have to invite him to stay? It’s been hard
enough being near you all day and not being able to touch you, but with him having dinner it’ll be
hours before we can…”

She gave him a sly smile, “I know, but we need to make sure he’ll come here to relieve us for
the next week or so. I won’t feel safe leaving you here or sending you out in the Muggle world
alone until you are properly armed with a wand. Until then we need him to help us out. I want him
to feel appreciated, besides we’ll have the rest of the night for ourselves.”

After dinner and after Fletcher’s monologue about his mistrust of the Ministry, Sirius gave a
large yawn and stretched his arms. Fletcher seemed to get the hint and grumbled something about
needing to get home.

“I’ll see you in the morning at ten. Thanks for dinner, Arabella. Good seeing you again,
Sirius,” he said as he prepared to step in her fireplace. He threw the Floo powder and called, “The
Hovel!” and disappeared into the flames.

Arabella waited a few moments and then extinguished the flames, closed the flue and magically
disconnected her house from the Floo network.

Sirius pulled her towards him and said softly in her ear, “You need to take that antidote right
now or I’m going to start having lewd thoughts about my grandmother.”

Arabella blushed and pulled the small bottle out of her pocket. She had barely gotten the drops
under her tongue when Sirius was already pulling the pins out of her hair. The change wasn’t quite
complete when he started to open the snaps of her housedress.

“Sirius, I bought something today that I’d like to change into.”

He shook his head, “Later. I want you right now, right here and naked.” His hands started to
unsnap her brassiere and then he stopped. “No one can see in these windows can they?”

“No. I charmed them from Day One,” she replied.

“Good,” he said as his lips started to kiss the base of her neck.

Arabella found herself responding to the gentle touch of his hands roaming over her body. She
started to imagine that they would probably make love in every room of this house by the time she
had to leave for Hogwarts. Like that would be a bad thing, she mused. Her hands fumbled with the
buttons on his shirt and then they slid down his chest and unzipped his trousers. She found that
his aging twenty years had no adverse impact on his virility. Soon they were exploring the depths
of their passion on the living room floor.

*

In Chapter Two: “Harry’s Summer Surprise” our hero finds out that his old babysitter is not what
she appeared to be. I also switch to the standard 3rd person Harry POV. I did not want
Harry to become a peeping tom in order for the reader to enjoy the interaction between Sirius and
Arabella.



2. Harry s Summer Surprise
--------------------------

Chapter Two - Harry’s Summer Surprise

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Rating: R – For adult themes and sexual intimacy.

Author’s Notes: I wish to thank my beta readers Cara Hicks and Amanda Byer for helping to make
this story as strong as possible.

Harry Potter was looking forward to a dreadful summer. He arrived home to Number 4 Privet Drive
to absolute silence from his aunt, uncle and cousin. It was as if they thought if they remained
silent that he would simply disappear and no longer be a burden to them. He was hoping that
Dumbledore would allow him to stay with the Weasleys, but was discouraged by what Ron had said
before they left Hogwarts. Dumbledore was against it for his own reasons. Harry knew that meant for
his own safety he needed to be with his blood relations even though they treated him like common
pond scum. He also knew that he should be using his summer holiday as a time to prepare for his
upcoming Ordinary Wizarding Level exams (O.W.L.s), but he just couldn’t get himself motivated to
concentrate on his studies.

The first full day he was home the Dursleys did talk. Just not to him. They talked with Dudley
incessantly about how he was doing at Smeltings Academy. It seems this past year Duddikins grew one
inch taller and actually lost ten pounds due to the strict diet that the school nurse had him on.
She thought he should have lost more weight, but somehow or another he seemed to acquire food that
was not part of the regimen. Harry figured that Dudley bullied other kids to give him their food.
Since Dudley was still on a restricted diet, Petunia was once again forcing the entire family to
share his pain. The evening meal consisted of one large spoonful of white rice, five green beans
and two strawberries. Harry went to bed with his stomach still growling from hunger and realizing
that his aunt, uncle and cousin would probably do everything they could to ignore him for two solid
months.

Harry wondered if the Dursleys’ current maltreatment of him had anything to do with the last
time he had seen them. Right before he left last summer, his cousin Dudley had a tongue that was a
foot-long. This was thanks to some magical toffee made by Fred and George Weasley. Harry had never
asked Mr. Weasley about whether or not he had performed a memory charm on the Dursleys after he had
restored Dudley’s tongue to its normal state. He didn’t dare bring up the subject with the Dursleys
nor anything else that mattered to him, because it all dealt with the magical world. And the
Dursleys hated everything that had to do with magic.

Harry found himself pacing his bedroom floor that night. He was worried about what was happening
with Lord Voldemort and his forces. He had been having trouble sleeping ever since the third task
of the Triwizard Tournament because inevitably Harry would relive one of the most painful nights in
his life. As soon as he would fall asleep he’d once again be magically transported to a graveyard
and watch helplessly as the evil wizard was restored to a human-like body. He kept reliving the
pain of seeing Cedric Diggory being murdered as well as being forced to duel with Voldemort. The
cold, murderous laugh of that evil wizard sent shivers down his spine even in his sleep. He always
awoke from this dream with his bed soaked with sweat and his pillow drenched with tears.

Harry was anxious to know what was happening in the Wizarding World. Dumbledore had given orders
to Snape, Hagrid, Sirius and Bill and Molly Weasley in order to marshal forces against Voldemort
and his followers. Harry wondered what those orders entailed and knew that he probably wouldn’t
hear anything for a while from anyone. He knew that Dumbledore had tried to manage the information
regarding dangers to Harry’s safety like everything else: on a need to know basis.

Harry had found out certain things like the fact that Sirius Black was his godfather by
accidentally overhearing conversations. Sometimes eavesdropping seemed to be the only way that
Harry found things out – things that he wound up needing to know in order to stay alive. He
desperately wanted to hear from Sirius, but he thought that it was probably too dangerous for
Sirius to detail anything to Harry in a letter lest Voldemort’s minions intercept it. He also
remembered Sirius warning him not to use Hedwig to contact him. Harry’s white snowy owl was
beautiful, but she also stood out and could call too much attention, which might jeopardize
everything. When he was at school he could use some of the other owls at the owlery. At home he
only had Hedwig and Harry couldn’t risk endangering Sirius by writing to him, there was far too
much at stake. No, Harry would just have to be patient and wait to hear from Sirius even if it
meant burning a hole in the floor from pacing himself to sleep. He was beginning to feel drowsy and
crawled into bed willing himself to have a dreamless sleep.

The next morning Harry dragged himself out of his bed feeling exhausted and starving. As he
entered the kitchen he heard his Aunt Petunia on the phone. It was normal for her to have the phone
permanently attached to one ear and one eye peering out the window spying on her neighbours.

“Certainly. He will be there at nine o’clock….That’s no problem. Just say the word if you’d like
to have him help you all summer long. Otherwise he’s just a nuisance to me lying around the house
moping. Well, I’ll talk to you later, good-bye.”

Harry had made himself some toast and was just sitting down to the breakfast table when Aunt
Petunia turned and spoke to him for the first time since he had come home.

“Harry, Mrs. Figg called and asked if you could come over today and help her around the house.
She’s getting frail and could use someone with a strong back. I told her you’d be happy to help
her.”

Harry’s initial response to hearing Mrs. Figg’s name was reflexive. He gave out a little sigh
and rolled his eyes. Not the crazy old cat woman again, he thought.

Dudley openly sniggered.

Aunt Petunia snapped at Harry, “She’ll be expecting you at nine o’clock sharp. Mrs. Figg has
helped this family out for many years and we expect that you will return this favour for her.”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” he droned.

Petunia then turned to Vernon and began gossiping about Mrs. Figg and how she had heard from the
neighbourhood grapevine that the old lady had a sister with terminal cancer and might be leaving to
stay with her soon.

“They say the two haven’t spoken to each other in over twenty years,” she gasped.

Harry excused himself from the breakfast table and began walking up the stairs to finish getting
ready. Dudley followed him and started in on his favourite hobby, tormenting Harry.

“Ooooooh, maybe she’ll have you change all the litter boxes. She must have about one hundred of
them. Maybe you’ll be giving all her precious kitties baths. You aren’t afraid of licking a few
cats are you?”

Harry wasn’t paying any attention to this. Instead he was thinking about something that had
puzzled him last summer. Mr. Weasley’s borrowed tent at the Quidditch World Cup had been furnished
on the inside to look exactly like Mrs. Figg’s house. He had forgotten that, but now he began to
wonder about Mrs. Figg and who she really was. His mind was racing and it seemed that he didn’t
even remember getting ready or walking the distance from the Dursley household to Mrs. Figg’s
house. He did notice an inordinate number of cats that seemed to be watching him from a distance.
They didn’t come forward, but instead it appeared that they would nod their heads ever so slightly
in his direction.

He raised his hand to knock on Mrs. Figg’s door, but she opened it before his hand connected
with the wood. Before him stood the woman who had watched him during his childhood. A woman that
Harry had always dreaded seeing because he thought she was mad. Here now was a woman that Harry
looked at as if for the first time. She was an old lady with white hair piled on her head in a
large bun and wore gold-framed spectacles and a housedress decorated with small flowers. Then Harry
began to sense that Mrs. Figg was not what she appeared to be.

“Harry, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Mrs. Figg, I, er….,” Harry stammered. He tried to think of how to ask all the questions that
were nagging him.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Are you Arabella Figg?” he blurted out.

A slow smile started to come across her face. “Why yes, Harry. That is my name. Why don’t you
come in? Maybe have some tea?”

Harry was right. Mrs. Figg was a witch and she knew Dumbledore. Sirius had been told to contact
her and tell her about Voldemort’s resurrection. Now, maybe, just maybe Harry would find out
answers to the many burning questions he had.

“Please, come into my kitchen.”

Harry followed her into the small kitchen and saw a man sitting at the table. He was a handsome
middle-aged man dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks, he had a full head of hair that
was cut short and had been black but was going quickly grey and a full moustache. Something about
the man looked familiar, but Harry couldn’t place him. The man stood as he walked into the room and
smiled.

“Hello Harry.”

Harry squinted and then recognized the voice. His jaw dropped and he quickly ran into the man’s
outstretched arms.

“Sirius! I didn’t recognize you.”

“That’s kind of the idea. I must say this was all Bella’s doing.”

Mrs. Figg snorted, “Well, it took me for a shock when I first saw him. You’d have thought he
just had escaped from Azkaban. He was still wearing those ratty old robes and hadn’t had a decent
shave or haircut in years. Honestly, Harry, I know you sent him some food last year. Couldn’t you
have sent him a comb or brush?”

Harry blushed at that. He hadn’t thought of that kind of thing, but she was right. Sirius should
have tried to improve his appearance.

“As I was telling Sirius, people are looking for the madman with shaggy hair or the young man
with long hair they remember all those years ago before you were unjustly imprisoned. They are not
looking for a mature man with grey hair.”

Sirius nodded as he smoothed one hand over his hair. “Bella made me go prematurely grey, but
I’ve been told that grey hair makes men look distinguished. And she’s been feeding me well,
too.”

“Oh Sirius,” she blushed and turned away to the stove to fetch the kettle.

Harry just grinned at his godfather. “You look great.”

“Well, I also worried that I wouldn’t be able to trust that the Death Eaters wouldn’t be made
aware of my Animagus form now that Pettigrew has reasserted himself in their circle. I simply need
to be able to be in human form but not readily recognizable.”

Harry started to feel like he was going to burst with all his questions.

“Tell me, what’s going on? I’ve been dying to know. I haven’t heard anything and…”

Mrs. Figg poured the tea into the cups and placed some blueberry scones on the table.

“First of all Harry,” she began, “we don’t know much yet, and we won’t be able to share all of
our information with you. There are certain things we won’t be able to tell you and that is for
your own protection. You should know that the story about Voldemort’s return has finally hit *The
Daily Prophet*. It was in this morning’s paper.”

“Can I see a copy of it?” Harry asked urgently.

“I’m sorry,” she said shaking her head. “I don’t get owl post here in the house. I think it is
far too risky in this Muggle neighbourhood to have them flying about. Instead I subscribe to
hearing *The Daily Prophet* over the Wizarding Wireless Network. This morning’s broadcast was
particularly nasty in its accusations regarding Headmaster Dumbledore. They seemed to slant it as
if he were trying to cover for you and that there wasn’t any evidence to support the truth about
Voldemort having risen. I’m sure that one of your friends will send you a copy soon. Please bring
it over when you get it.”

“Was it Rita Skeeter who wrote that piece?” Harry said with dread.

“No. One of the bad things about hearing the broadcast of it is that you hear the reporter’s
voices read their articles. I cannot stand that Harpy! No, this was the managing editor Hearst
Seldes.”

Harry looked down at his teacup. He wasn’t sure what to say and then he just blurted it out.

“Skeeter’s an Animagus. A beetle. Hermione captured her the night of the Third Task. She was
spying on us in the infirmary.”

Sirius blanched. “She was there?”

“Yeah, but Hermione had figured it out beforehand and was watching out for her. That’s how
Skeeter had gotten some of those ‘scoops’ like when my scar was hurting me and about Hagrid being a
half-giant. She had heard or seen us from inside Hogwarts grounds after Dumbledore had banned her.
She had been a beetle on the wall.”

“Where is she now?” Sirius asked coldly.

“I’m not sure. Hermione threatened Rita Skeeter with exposing her as an unregistered Animagus
and having violated the rules of Hogwarts. She told her to keep her pen to herself for a whole
year. Hermione planned to let her go when she returned to London, but I’m not sure if she did
though.”

“I need to speak with Dumbledore about this,” Sirius said as he walked over to the stove. He
turned on the fire in the back burner and cast floo powder into the flames and called out “Albus
Dumbledore.”

Soon the truncated head of Dumbledore appeared in the flames.

“Albus, are you aware of Rita Skeeter being an Animagus?”

“Yes, I have that matter well in hand,” he said smiling. “A clever young lady had deduced how
that reporter had been breaking my rules and continued to visit our grounds. That will not be a
problem in the future. Is there anything else?”

“That’s all. Thank you,” Sirius said as the headmaster’s head popped out of the flames. He
turned to Harry and sighed, “I was afraid that she’d tell about my being there and cause all of you
to be arrested for harbouring a fugitive. But I trust that Dumbledore will know how to handle this
sticky situation.”

Mrs. Figg sighed, “A beetle, huh? That figures. Except I think a cockroach would have been more
appropriate.” She shook her head and then continued, “Getting back to the matter of your security,
Harry. The first thing you need to know is that you cannot visit the Weasleys this summer. It is
far too dangerous. You must stay in the care of the Dursleys as there is an ancient charm attached
to them and you are safest there when you are not at Hogwarts. I must tell you that I was assigned
to your protection after your parents were killed. Your safety is my responsibility.”

“Arabella was one of our finest Aurors,” said Sirius. “She has incredible talents and knows what
she is talking about.”

“Why then didn’t you…” Harry began.

“Let you know about your being a wizard?”

“Well…yeah.”

“Because I was only able to see you once or twice a year. I couldn’t risk making the Dursleys
suspect me and my motives, so I was at their mercy. I had tried to establish a close relationship
with your aunt and uncle when you were a baby, but…” she paused as if searching for the right
words, “they are very *difficult* people.”

Harry nodded in agreement.

“It was hard to only see you so infrequently, so I spent that time trying to make sure you knew
who my cats were. They are my sentries and provide surveillance throughout the neighbourhood. I
thought that if you recognized them that you might seek comfort with them and tell them your
secrets.”

Harry looked up at her with a puzzled look in his face.

Mrs. Figg went on, “Search your memory and you will see that there were times when the Dursleys
were treating you horribly and you’d stroke one of my cats and tell them all about your problems.
Things soon after became *bearable*. They might not have improved dramatically, but they were
bearable.”

Harry’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember.

“Okay, here’s one. Remember when you were eight and Dudley locked you in his closet one hot
summer day? It was only at dinnertime when your Aunt Petunia wondered why you hadn’t come to the
table that Dudley let you out. That night you climbed a tree and told Mr. Paws what happened. The
next day Dudley became upset when he couldn’t find his key to repeat that torture.”

Harry slowly nodded.

*“Accio!”*

A small key chain made of clay with the name Dudley painted on it came flying through the air
from down the hallway. There was a single brass key on it. Mrs. Figg handed the key chain to
Harry.

“I wished I could have done more for you. I could only intervene when your safety was at risk. I
couldn’t chance having you suffocate to death in a sweltering closet. I would have liked to have
raised you myself, but Dumbledore felt it was safer with me watching over you without being
distracted by caring for you, too.”

Harry’s eyes began to fill with tears. Mrs. Figg rose from her chair and hugged Harry. She
hugged him like a mother or grandmother. Only Mrs. Weasley had given him a hug like that, which
made him feel loved and cared for.

A new question began to form in Harry’s mind.

“Mrs. Figg, is there a Mr. Figg?” Harry asked.

She nodded and gave a small smile. “There was. Robert was a kind and thoughtful man and a
wonderful husband,” then her face darkened. “He was murdered by Death Eaters a year before your
parents were killed. I blame myself for his death as I believe that I was the real target. I
changed plans at the last moment and followed a hunch of mine. That meant I wasn’t there when he
was attacked.”

Harry reached his hand out to her. “I’m sorry.”

Mrs. Figg reached back and patted his hand. “Thank you. There were many lives that were ruined
due to the ruthless actions of Voldemort. I was devastated by the loss of Robert. So much so that
it led to my miscarrying what would have been a daughter. So when Dumbledore asked me to oversee
your security, it gave me the opportunity to protect a small child and it gave me the chance to
have some solitude to grieve in peace.”

Harry began to wonder how she could have been pregnant fifteen years ago given her advanced age.
He watched as she slowly wiped a tear from her eye and then looked straight at Harry with a new
determination in her eyes.
“The most important thing for you right now is to prepare yourself for your O.W.L.s.”

Harry groaned.

“I know, I know. But you must know that this coming year at Hogwarts will again be fraught with
danger for you. It is for your own protection that you become as educated in survival techniques as
is possible. Charms, hexes, transfiguration, and so on.” Then she gave a cryptic smile, “I thought
it might be easier for you to study here than in your room pacing at nights. Your aunt will be
pleased because she won’t have to see you during the day and you can come here study in peace and
spend time with your godfather.”

“I heard her say something that you would be leaving to visit a sister soon?” Harry asked as he
reached for a second scone.

Mrs. Figg smiled. “I am going away from here, but not to see any sister. I’m going to be your
new Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor. You can start calling me Professor Figg.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide at that thought and then he smiled.

“Sirius will be staying here and standing guard here as my ‘nephew’ who will be house sitting
for me.” She then stood up from the table, “If you don’t mind, I’m feeling positively ancient right
now. I think I’ll resume my true form and besides, I think you ought to get used to seeing me the
way I’ll appear during the school year so it won’t be too much of a shock for you.”

She reached into her pocket and drew out a small bottle with a clear potion inside and placed
three drops of the liquid under her tongue. Harry watched as she transformed in the matter of a few
seconds into a woman that Harry guessed was in her forties. She took off her glasses and released a
hairpin that allowed her hair to fall down past her waist. She straightened her back and shoulders
and seemed to grow at least two inches taller.

“Ahhhh, that’s much better.”

Harry was amazed to see how beautiful she was. Sirius also seemed to be captivated by her
beauty.

“Yesterday Sirius and I went to Diagon Alley. It was the first time in many years that I had
gone there. We needed to get him a new wand along with other supplies for him to stay here and for
me to teach my classes.”

“Did Mr. Ollivander…” Harry wasn’t sure what to ask.

Sirius smiled and shook his head. “We didn’t want to risk that. Mr. Ollivander is one of the
most perceptive wizards around.”

“Dumbledore arranged to have Hagrid help Mr. Ollivander to procure the hair from a new unicorn
in the Forbidden Forest along with getting some wood for the wands. Mr. Ollivander’s apprentice is
shrewd, but he had never met Sirius before. We were able to pass him off as my boyfriend Joseph
O’Brien from Australia.” She then waved her hand in the air and mimicked herself, “I have been
telling him that he *must* get a wand from Ollivander’s as they are simply the best. I
promised to buy him a new one as a present.”

“It worked?” Harry asked.

“Like a charm,” Sirius replied putting on a thick Australian accent.

“That ruse worked throughout Diagon Alley. No one got to ask him very much as I would monopolize
any conversation and simply take him by the arm and lead him away from any store before too long.
People were glad to see me once again – laughing and smiling. I doubt anyone recognized that the
man on my arm was someone they hadn’t seen in fourteen years and that now appears twenty years
older than his true form.”

Professor Figg then became deadly serious, “Harry, I must implore you. No one is to know that
you have known me outside of Hogwarts. Part of that is so no one thinks that I’m playing favourites
and more importantly it has to do with your security and now your godfather’s security. He will be
here and I need not remind you that he is still wanted by the Ministry of Magic. If anyone suspects
that we knew each other before Hogwarts, then Sirius may wind up back in Azkaban or worse.”

Sirius nodded, “That includes Ron and Hermione. You cannot tell them.”

Harry understood and nodded. “Okay. I won’t do anything that might endanger you. I understand
how dangerous it’s been for you these last two years. Living in this house has got to be like
Paradise for you compared to living in a cave and eating rats.”

Professor Figg shook her head and shuddered.

“Why yes, it *is* much nicer staying here,” Sirius replied.

“Speaking of school,” said Professor Figg. “We need to start discussing your lessons this
summer. We need to take full advantage of this time before school starts and try to bring you up to
speed as best as we can.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“I mean that we need to prepare you for the worst and give you the best defensive skills
possible so that you can use them to survive any attacks.”

Harry gulped. Of course he was still at risk from Voldemort. It was just that at times he wished
he could be like any other teenager and not have to worry about an evil wizard who wanted him
dead.

“Why does he want to kill me so much?”

Professor Figg gave a rueful smile, “Right now Harry you represent the only weapon we have
against Fear. You represent Hope. Voldemort’s power lives and breeds in Fear and shrinks in the
face of Hope. Because of that and because Voldemort has been unable to vanquish you in the three
times he has met with you – he will be desperate and that means he’ll want to see you dead anyway
possible.”

Harry thought about the three times Professor Figg mentioned. The night his parents were killed,
the end of his first year when Harry stopped Quirrell and Voldemort from getting the Philosopher’s
Stone and the night in the graveyard. Professor Figg didn’t know about Harry’s encounter with the
ghost of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. So really, it was four times…

“The night he duelled with you in the graveyard, do you realize what else he had planned for
that night?” she asked.

Harry started to feel dread in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear
what she had to say. He shook his head slowly.

“After killing you, we think that he had planned to have his Death Eaters join him and use the
Portkey and be transported to Hogwarts. They would have then attacked as many people as possible.
It would have been chaos and everyone in the Wizarding World would be utterly terrified. More than
they were when he had been at the height of his powers.”

The enormity of what Professor Figg had said weighed heavily on Harry.

“You saved Hogwarts,” Sirius said simply.

Harry felt dazed.

“So what do we do now?” he asked.

Professor Figg gave a bittersweet smile, “Well, our mission is to protect you. Part of that is
to make sure you are as aware as possible of every type of attack or deception to expect. You’ve
seen how Polyjuice Potion can transform someone.”

Harry thought of not only Bartemius Crouch, Jr. who had masqueraded as “Mad-Eye” Moody last
year, but his own experience of becoming Goyle in his second year. He nodded towards Professor
Figg.

“Harry you need to be very cautious – almost to the point of being paranoid. You need to collect
all of your loose hair and your nail clippings to be make sure that no one can get them. That means
every morning you’ll need to use your wand on your bed linens, comb, brush and bathroom drain to
collect all your lost hair and then destroy it.”

Harry blinked and his eyes grew wide at that.

“But only Gryffindors would be able to…”

Professor Figg smiled again. “Do you think it’s impossible for Voldemort to enlist Gryffindors
or to get someone to impersonate a Gryffindor to get at you?”

He shook his head.

“We’ll also have to tell your closest friends about protecting their hair that closely. I’ll be
talking about this in my classes, but probably not emphasize it as strongly with everyone as I am
with you. I daresay that by the end of the year we may see many of the students sporting long hair
styles – similar to our beloved headmaster.”

Harry thought of Bill Weasley’s long hair being held in a ponytail and then understood why he
hadn’t had a hair cut in years. Bill’s working in Egypt for Gringotts as a curse breaker would know
that his hair could be used for magic against him, if he wasn’t careful.

Professor Figg looked appraisingly at Harry and placed her hand under his chin. She turned his
head from side to side.

“I reckon you’ll need to start shaving soon. You’ll have to save that hair as well.” She gave a
small smile, “I wouldn’t recommend you trying to avoid shaving. It takes several years for facial
hair to grow in evenly and unless you want to have mangy peach fuzz all over your face…”

Sirius chimed in, “And believe me, girls don’t go for the mangy look.”

Harry blushed and Sirius roared with laughter, which made Harry even more embarrassed. Sirius
then looked at Harry carefully.

“You haven’t been holding out on me, have you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Harry quickly shook his head and started staring at the floor. He wanted desperately to have the
topic changed.

Sirius then quietly asked, “Harry are you interested in *anyone* at school?”

Harry thought of Cho and his heart ached. “Maybe,” he croaked.

“Harry, it’s not a crime for you to care for a girl. It’s normal and frankly it’s healthy to
want to love someone and to be loved back. I’d be surprised if you didn’t take a shine to someone.
However, what we have to worry about is having anyone you care about becoming targets for
Voldemort.”

Harry sighed heavily. He thought it was incredibly difficult to summon the courage to ask Cho to
the Yule Ball. Now Sirius and Professor Figg were telling him that he needed to tell her to collect
her loose hair because Death Eaters might target her. And it was all because he thought she was
cute. That’ll be oh so much easier to talk to her about, Harry thought.

Professor Figg then cleared her throat, “Harry, you’ll also have to come up with a secret signal
for your closest friends.”

“Signal? What do you mean?”

“Something simple that won’t be noticed, but that will alert you that Ron truly is Ron and
Hermione isn’t someone disguised as Hermione. When you see them on the Hogwarts Express you’ll need
to talk with them privately – determine first that they truly are who they appear to be. Ask them
to tell you something only your true friends would know. Then figure out a signal. It needs to be
something small that no one else will notice. Like maybe a sniff or licking their lips and saying
‘umm,’ before anything else. Just so that if you saw Hermione and she didn’t lick her lips at the
first sight you will immediately become suspicious. And I think we need to have signals between us.
How about me pulling on an earlobe and start a sentence with ‘so.’ You can push your glasses up and
say, ‘Umm.’ We only need to do this when we speak together privately, so don’t worry about this in
class or when you see me in the hall.”

Harry was shaking his head ever so slightly. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?

Sirius placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“I know it’s tough on you. But know that we’re here for you now and we’ll help you manage this.
You’ve survived so much already, you just have to stay strong.”

Harry nodded and was glad that Sirius was here. It wasn’t as good as leaving the Dursleys
forever, but the thought of being with his godfather during the daytime over the summer holidays
seemed like Heaven to him.

“Professor Figg, do you have anything else I could eat? I’m still hungry. Dudley’s been put on
this strict diet and my Aunt Petunia thinks everyone should have to eat the same paltry
amount.”

Professor Figg shook her head and started muttering under her breath. “They brought this all
upon themselves in how they raised that insufferable, bullying git. I can’t wait until the day we
can all leave this neighbourhood and then I’ll tell Petunia and Vernon exactly what I think of
them.” She took a deep breath and then turned to Harry. “What would you like for lunch? A
hamburger? Pizza?”

“Yeah, whatever is easiest. I’m just really hungry and don’t want to be starved again this
summer,” said Harry.

“You won’t be. I’ll work it out that you can stay here for dinners also. Petunia should be so
happy, she won’t have to make any meals for you or see you during the day.”

“I wish I could have come before during the summer,” he said wistfully.

“Me, too,” Professor Figg agreed. “But Dumbledore hadn’t given the permission before this.
Tomorrow, you should bring your wand with you. We’ll be starting in lessons for you.”

“But I can’t do magic outside of school. I’ll be expelled,” said Harry worriedly.

“Harry, I’ll let you in on a little secret. The Ministry’s monitoring system is not omnipotent.
It’s site specific and even then it can’t distinguish who is inside doing what. Tell me that you
haven’t seen anyone on the Hogwarts Express doing magic.”

Harry nodded sheepishly as he thought of the hexes that were put on Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle a
few days ago. That was certainly magic outside of school by underage wizards and not one of his
friends thought twice about it when they did it.

“See? Site specific. And the monitor on your aunt and uncle’s house is not very good either. It
couldn’t tell the difference between a spell you performed and one done by a house-elf. And I must
tell you that the Ministry does not have any monitors on this house. I have too many sentries
watching my house that would alert me. I’ve also got charms and enchantments around my house. So
don’t worry about performing magic here.”

Professor Figg stood and started to fix lunch by directing her wand to the refrigerator to bring
out hamburger and make it into patties. It reminded Harry of watching Mrs. Weasley cook dinner with
utensils and food flying through the air. Soon there was the mouth-watering smell of hamburger
sizzling on a frying pan.

“I will also tell you that I vehemently disagree with that decree regarding restricting magic by
underage wizards. I think it’s ludicrous to think that parents and other elders have nothing of
value to teach their children. Only the faculty during the school year? I’m sorry, but that’s too
elitist for words. I fully understand not performing magic in front of Muggles, but a complete ban
on magic outside of school? That’s just plain wrong in my opinion.”

Harry grinned. He was beginning to really like Professor Figg and wished that she had been this
forthcoming with him when he was younger.

“Harry,” Sirius piped in, “We bought your textbooks and school supplies for next year when we
were at Diagon Alley.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because there are far too many people out there in the Wizarding World that could wish harm to
you,” continued Sirius. “I know you like to go there each year and meet up with Ron and Hermione,
but it’s far too risky right now.”

“And as the person in charge of your security – I must say it is not worth risking your life
over,” Professor Figg said solemnly.

“And Hogsmeade? Will I be able to go there?” Harry asked.

“Possibly, but I would have to accompany you. Act as your own personal Auror bodyguard,” she
replied.

“Then why can’t we go to Diagon Alley together?”

“Because you won’t have met each other until *after* school has started – remember? As far
as everyone else is concerned, we have no history together. Otherwise, Sirius will be
endangered.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. “But what do I tell Ron and Hermione? They’ll want to meet together to go
shopping.”

Professor Figg placed the cooked hamburgers on the table and waved catsup, mustard and pickles
out of the refrigerator.

“You can tell them that Dumbledore was afraid for your safety and found someone to get all of
your school supplies and that you’re already using your new books. No need to tell them the details
– the disappointment of not being able to go shopping with you will be enough.”

Harry started chewing on his hamburger and realized that his disappointment about not being able
to have some fun with his friends paled in comparison to the real threats that the Wizarding World
faced due to Voldemort’s return. This was just a small price that had to be paid.

Chapter Three is entitled: The Disinformation Campaign Begins. You’ll see how the *Daily
Prophet* attacks and attempts to discredit both Harry Potter and Dumbledore.



3. The Disinformation Campaign Begins
-------------------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s Note: This was previously published as “Sirius Black’s Secret Love” on Schnoogle. I am
in the process of tweaking and refining things just a bit and will upload as I finish each chapter.
I’d like to thank Cara Hicks and Ama for being fabulous beta readers.

Rating: R - for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Three - The Disinformation Campaign Begins

That night as Harry was getting ready for bed he saw the approaching form of an owl coming
towards his bedroom window. He opened the sash and saw a large tawny owl come and land on his
windowsill. He took the parchment scroll that was attached to his leg and saw that it was from
Hermione. As he scanned the letter he realized that she had been worried about the security of Owl
post and wrote cryptically so that it wouldn’t be understood if it was intercepted.

*Harry,*

*I didn’t follow through with what I had planned on doing in London. I was all set to, but a
small voice in the back of my head said, “Stop. Let Dumbledore decide.” After all, it dealt with
rule breaking at Hogwarts, he should be the one to determine how best to deal with the culprit. I
sent him an owl about the matter and he showed up the very next day and took the problem in hand.
He merely said, “Well done, Miss Granger,” then left.*

*I had my parents stop at Diagon Alley before we went home and we bought this owl. I decided
that I really needed a post owl of my own. Say hello to Athena.*

“Hello, Athena.”

The owl hooted softly to him. Hedwig looked up from her cage and eyed the other owl
suspiciously.

“Hedwig, this is Hermione’s new owl, Athena.”

Hedwig then seemed to nod in approval. Harry turned to continue reading.

*I’m attaching a copy of today’s Daily Prophet. I thought you should see this. Please Harry,
try not to worry too much about this or about things that you have no control over. Use this time
to study for the O.W.L.s. I hope the Dursleys are treating you better.*

*With love,*

*Hermione*

Harry gave some owl treats to Athena and Hedwig and then sat down on his bed to read the
newspaper clipping.

**Has the Dark Lord Returned?**

Ministry of Magic dismisses rumours

*By Hearst Seldes, Managing Editor*

**Yesterday the offices of the Daily Prophet received a deluge of owls from concerned parents
throughout the British Isles. They are worried about the possibility that You-Know-Who has
returned.**

**Three days ago at the annual leaving feast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the
embattled headmaster Albus Dumbledore startled everyone with the announcement that You-Know-Who had
not only risen but had also murdered Hogwarts sixth year student and Triwizard champion, Cedric
Diggory.**

**The Daily Prophet had previously received unconfirmed reports of the death of one of the
Triwizard champions, but now it can be stated that Cedric Diggory was killed during the third task
of the tournament on June 24th.**

**It seems that during the third task of the tournament, two of the champions, Diggory and
Harry Potter (the boy who survived an attack by You-Know-Who when he was just a baby) disappeared
for a period of about half an hour.**

**When they suddenly re-appeared outside the maze, Potter was bleeding and clutching both the
Triwizard cup and Diggory’s corpse.**

**We have been unable to determine where Potter and Diggory were during this lost period of
time.**

**It is commonly known that one cannot Apparate or Disapparate on the grounds of Hogwarts, so
any claim that Potter and Diggory left Hogwarts, saw You-Know-Who rise again and then reappear at
Hogwarts grounds should be treated with great suspicion said a source from the Ministry of
Magic.**

**It was also rumoured that Harry Potter has an Invisibility Cloak, which would add another
layer of intrigue regarding the ‘disappearance’ of those two champions.**

**The Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge refused to answer questions regarding rumours that he
had summoned a Dementor and that someone within the castle walls had received a Dementor’s Kiss
that night.**

**Fudge did have this to say regarding Cedric Diggory’s death. “The Triwizard Tournament has a
long history of fatal accidents. Dumbledore had assured us that this year would be different, as
they had supposedly taken great precautions to assure everyone’s safety. Since Cedric was the son
of one of our Ministry’s officials, Amos Diggory, all of us at the Ministry of Magic have been hit
hard. It is as if we all lost a family member.”**

**In regards to You-Know-Who’s possible return, Fudge responded, “I’ve seen no evidence of that
happening. Frankly, I think Dumbledore is being very irresponsible and is listening to the ravings
of what appears to be a very disturbed young man who has his own suspicions about him. After all
Potter can converse with snakes, he has episodes of unexplained convulsions as well as an
unexplained disappearance in which he then returned holding a dead rival. The other two champions
had been stunned in the maze. It seems that Dumbledore may be trying to cover up for a favoured
student.”**

**Others also cast questions regarding Potter’s reputation as being a hero. Narcissa Malfoy
complained to this reporter that her son Draco and his classmates Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe
had been attacked by Harry Potter and his friends on their ride home on the Hogwarts
Express.**

**“My son was only going to extend his congratulations to Potter on winning the Triwizard
Tournament when he was viciously attacked and left unconscious for hours in the hallway of the
train. I became worried when he hadn’t disembarked from the train when all the other students
had.”**

**At this point, Mrs. Malfoy began to cry. “Imagine my shock when I found my son and his two
friends sprawled out with footprints on them. All those boys had to be treated at St. Mungo’s for
the jumble of hexes that were placed on them. I sincerely hope that Dumbledore will punish those
responsible, but given his history with Potter – I’m not holding my breath.”**

**Dumbledore has long been considered a controversial headmaster. In the past few years he has
been criticized for hiring a werewolf and a half-giant to teach his students. It is also reported
that he allowed Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody to place students under the Imperius Curse as part of their
Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons.**

**Two years ago, Dumbledore was briefly removed by the school governors after four students had
been attacked and petrified by something or someone within the castle.**

**There was a fantastic story at the end of that year that Harry Potter and his friend Ronald
Weasley were in a hidden chamber in the bowels of the castle and fought a thousand year old
basilisk that supposedly was left there by Hogwarts co-founder Salazar Slytherin.**

**There was no evidence to support Potter’s wild tale at that time, but it was enough to garner
Dumbledore’s praise and four hundred house points, which assured the House Cup to Gryffindor House.
(Note: Gryffindor was Dumbledore’s House also.)**

**Another curious note regarding that episode is that renowned author Gilderoy Lockhart was
injured in the company of Potter and Weasley.**

**This famed hunter of werewolves, vampires and other dark creatures cannot verify anything of
Potter’s supposed encounter with a basilisk as he is still an inpatient at St. Mungo’s with severe
memory problems suffered that fateful night.**

**The previous year there was the wildly reported story that Harry met You-Know-Who in another
(!) secret chamber at Hogwarts and fought with him over a Philosopher’s Stone. According to this
legend, the Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Quirrell was possessed by
Voldemort.**

**This incident in the chamber caused the death of Professor Quirrell and for Dumbledore to
lavish enough points on Gryffindor House to snatch the House Cup from Slytherin House for the first
time in eight years.**

**One should carefully weigh rumours of the Dark Lord’s reappearance with the sources of this
information. Unfortunately, neither Headmaster Dumbledore nor Harry Potter could be reached for
comment on this story.**

**One other side note, our own reporter Rita Skeeter who had been covering the Triwizard
Tournament and had been critical of Harry Potter is missing. She was last known to have been trying
to cover the Third Task. Another disappearance linked to Potter, perhaps? Might his survival years
ago against an attack by You-Know-Who have been a sign that Harry Potter is destined to become an
even more powerful dark wizard? Only time will tell.**

Harry fell backwards on his bed. He wanted to scream with anger, but didn’t dare because he knew
he’d wake up the Dursleys. There seemed to be an uneasy truce right now with his relatives. They
were glad that he was now going to be spending his days out of the house and didn’t want to speak
with him at all. If he woke them up…who knows what they would do to punish him. No, he’d just have
to wait until the morning and talk it over with Sirius and Professor Figg.

He dragged himself over to his desk and found a spare piece of parchment and wrote a note to
Hermione.

*Dear Hermione,*

*Thank you for sending me that article even though it barely reflects reality. I’ll try not to
let it bother me, but I’m sure that there’ll be lots of people believing that garbage.*

*I’m glad you changed your mind about that ‘task.’ I was really worried about what would
happen if you hadn’t.*

*Professor Dumbledore already arranged for me to get my books and supplies for next year. He
thought it might pose a security risk for me to go to Diagon Alley this year. I’ll miss not
shopping with you and Ron, but I’m already starting to read next year’s assignments. The first time
I’ll ever be ahead of you academically.*

*Athena seems like a good owl, you’ll enjoy having one.*

*Here’s hoping you have a nice summer holiday.*

*Harry*

With that he rolled up the parchment, attached it to Athena’s leg and sent her out the window.
As he watched the form disappear into the night he began to wonder whether or not Voldemort would
be happy or disgusted with the reports in *The Daily Prophet.* It seemed that Voldemort craved
attention and fear. That article spent precious little space on Voldemort and lots of space about
Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Was this going to raise awareness in the Wizarding World or just make
them suspicious of those fighting against evil? Harry sighed, took off his glasses and went to
bed.

The next day Harry brought the article with him when he went to Professor Figg’s house. She
looked grimly at the text and shook her head slightly.

“There’s nothing we can do about this. If we attempt to get a retraction, they’ll only use this
as a further excuse to twist the truth. I’m sorry, but I know how this publication works and
there’s not much we can do about it.”

Harry then told her about the *Witch Weekly* article that had made Hermione out to be
toying with his and Viktor Krum’s affections and how it led to her being inundated with hate mail
and howlers. Professor Figg frowned and then led Harry up the stairs to the bedroom with the
surveillance equipment.

“I hadn’t meant to show this to you Harry, but I don’t see any reason why not at this point. Do
you see this monitor?” she pointed to the screen on the desk that Snowy was perched at. Harry
nodded as he peered closely at the display.

“This shows the neighbourhood for several blocks surrounding your aunt and uncle’s home. There
are various charms and enchantments that detect magical activity and also repel other activity. On
my house I have a charm that repels owls. Like I mentioned before, I find that owl post is far too
unusual for a plain Muggle neighbourhood. Besides, your aunt was well aware of owl post due to your
mother and I could not risk her ever seeing an owl here and realizing that I was a witch.”

Professor Figg then pointed at the centre of the map and Harry realized it was Number 4 Privet
Drive.

“On the roof of your house is also an owl repellent charm. I had that in place and active until
I knew you’d get the acceptance letter from Hogwarts. Until then I didn’t want anyone sending you
letters, greetings or fan mail. So any owl posts would have been returned to sender. I can
reactivate that charm for you, temporarily if you’d like. At least until the furor of the article
wears off in a week or two,” she suggested.

Harry thought about the undiluted bubotuber pus that Hermione received in one letter and then he
thought of how his aunt would react to Howlers.

“Maybe that would be best. But what will happen to my owl, Hedwig?” he asked.

“Well, I think you should send word to your friends that they won’t be able to contact you by
owl post until your birthday because of security concerns. All mail will be returned to sender. I’m
sure that Hermione will understand completely. You might want to remind Ron of the letters that she
received and then I’m sure he’ll understand it, too. You should also have Hedwig stay at either one
of their houses until your birthday. Then we’ll try lifting the measure for a day or so and see how
things work out. Maybe you should go home, write a quick note to Ron and send Hedwig away. You can
tell your aunt you forgot something in your room. By the time you return I’ll have reactivated the
charm and you won’t have to worry about receiving any mail today.”

Harry looked at the monitor with amazement. “This is really cool. I haven’t seen anything like
this at Hogwarts.”

“Thank you,” she said being very pleased. “I’ve been working on these security measures over the
years and it really improved after I took an electronics course a few years ago at the local
college. I thought I could use a mixture of magical and Muggle technology to create the most
powerful security field on your behalf.”

“Mr. Weasley would be very impressed.”

“Yes, I’m sure he would be. But he’s not going to see anything about this place until after this
detail is no longer necessary, then I’ll show him everything. I don’t want him grousing about
Muggle protection acts. I hide everything magical in my house so that none of my neighbours will
detect anything untoward and I don’t want anyone knowing my business in the magical world. It’s
funny, your godfather thinks this is a little too high tech. He keeps talking about making an
enchanted parchment to perform the same duties.” She looked at her watch, “You might want to get
going back to your house and send that letter. Otherwise your aunt might soon be pelted with
Howlers.”

That got Harry moving quickly. He took the steps downstairs three at a time.

That got Harry moving quickly. He took the steps downstairs three at a time. When he got to the
living room he found a spare piece of parchment and scribbled a quick note to Ron telling him about
the temporary ban on owl posts at his house and to please notify Hermione and have Hedwig stay at
either of their houses until she could return at his birthday. He addressed the outside of the
scroll and ran quickly back home to Privet Drive. His aunt was startled to see Harry come in the
door.

“I forgot something, Aunt Petunia!” as he bounded up the stairs to his room. He noticed that
there were three owls already beating their wings outside his window. He walked over to Hedwig’s
cage and opened it. “Hedwig, I’ve got a letter for you to take to Ron Weasley. See those owls?
There’s bound to be more coming and I need to make them stop for a little while. So please stay
with either the Weasleys or at Hermione Granger’s house for a few weeks. One of them will send you
back here at my birthday, but until then…you’ll have to stay away.”

Harry stroked her feathers and gave her some owl treats. “I’m sorry about this, but that’s the
way it has to be.”

She softly hooted and extended her leg for Harry to tie the letter to it. He then raised the
window and Hedwig hissed at the other owls that were fighting to get in. They hovered in midair and
then made room for her to leave. After Hedwig flew away the three flew into the room and dropped
their letters at Harry’s feet and took off. He looked and said a few silent thanks that none of
those were Howlers. He snatched them up and closed his window, locking it. Then he ran down the
stairs and out the front door trying to ignore his aunt’s scowling face as he ran past.

As he ran back to Professor Figg’s house he saw a flock of owls flying towards his house, but
suddenly they turned around and flew back in the direction that they had come from. Harry was out
of breath when he opened the door to her house. Sirius was trying to stifle a smile when Harry
collapsed in a chair panting.

“I see you’ve gotten some fan mail. Did you read it yet?”

Harry shook his head, still gasping for breath.

“Let me see them,” as Sirius reached for the pieces of parchment held in Harry’s hands. Sirius
scanned them and frowned, “Well, it’s what we expected. *The Daily Prophet* is using you and
Professor Dumbledore as a means to sell papers and create a scandal. Too bad they didn’t get to the
real story, but that’s not what they’re interested in. It’s a shame that the only daily wizarding
paper is a scandal mongering rag. The only upside is that they regularly attack the Ministry of
Magic for its incompetence, but now when the Wizarding World could truly need informing about
Voldemort’s return they get a load of crap instead.”

Sirius crumpled up the letters, “You don’t want to see them Harry. There’s no truth or reason
behind them. I don’t want you to even think about this for awhile, there’s far more important work
to be done.”

By this time Harry had caught his breath and he nodded to Sirius. “So, what’s my first lesson? I
did bring my wand.”

Professor Figg walked in the room and placed some rolls of parchment on an end table and then
showed him a magazine opened to a page with a brightly coloured wall on it.

“I want you to transfigure these rolls of parchment into wallpaper with this pattern on it. How
good are you in Transfiguration?”

“I’m okay, I guess,” he said sheepishly.

“Just okay?” she said arching one eyebrow. “I suppose that means that after trying for about ten
or twenty minutes or so that you eventually can get something transfigured. That’s just not good
enough for you Harry. You need to be able to transfigure something quickly or don’t even
bother.”

Harry’s stomach sank. He knew that he was required to take Transfiguration and now Professor
Figg was telling him he should give it up.

Professor Figg’s tone softened with him, “I love Minerva. She’s my aunt, but I’m afraid her
method of teaching is not what it should be.”

Harry was startled at that.

“I heard that Remus worked with you and helped you to be able to conjure a Patronus in your
third year. Harry, you’re a powerful wizard and I wish that Minerva would recognize that students
need to learn to become accomplished with something small and then you’ll be able to transfer that
technique to larger objects. Instead of working individually with students she lectures and hopes
at least for some level of competence but not proficiency. Tell me, what have you learned to
transfigure?”

“Well, we learned to transfigure hedgehogs into pin cushions last year.”

“Ah yes, the ever present dilemma of what to do with rampaging hedgehogs. Something that’s kept
me awake many a night,” she said dryly.

Harry tried hard to suppress a smile at that, but couldn’t quite manage it.

Professor Figg shook her head. “You need defensive skills Harry. Turning bunnies into slippers
is useless for you. What good would it do for you to pelt a Death Eater with slippers? We need to
concentrate on objects you could use to defend yourself with.”

She then walked over to a cupboard and brought back a box of wooden matches. “I think after four
years of lessons you should be able to transfigure this box of matches into needles in the blink of
an eye. Do you think you can do that?”

Harry breathed a heavy sigh and slowly shook his head.

“Well then let’s start with the matchstick to needle – your first lesson four years ago. I want
to see you concentrate and get it transfigured by the time I can snap my fingers.”

Professor Figg and Sirius helped Harry work on focusing his mind and energy on this task for the
rest of the day. By the time it was over he could make an entire box of matches into needles and
back again in the blink of an eye.

“Excellent work, Harry. Tomorrow we shall work on the parchment to wallpaper. Let’s break for
dinner,” said Professor Figg.

Harry was feeling much better about himself and a subject that he had only had a passing
interest in before. The summer was turning out much better than he had hoped. Harry knew that they
listened to the WWN to get the *Daily Prophet* news in the morning before he came over, but
they didn’t share with him any more of its coverage. His attitude improved by not knowing what lies
were being told about him. And working closely with Sirius helped settle his nerves so that he soon
had some nights that were dreamless and he was able to actually get a good night’s sleep.

For the next two weeks Harry helped by stripping the walls of old wallpaper, transfiguring rolls
of parchment into the new pattern, and hanging the new wallpaper. The house was looking much nicer,
lighter, and brighter. It seemed that Professor Figg had picked up a few decorating tips over the
years reading Muggle home fashion magazines and decided that now was the time to spruce things up.
Harry was beginning to feel very confident in transfiguring now with all the tutoring and practice
he had gotten.

One morning after he had finished a large breakfast with Sirius and Professor Figg they broached
an important subject with Harry.

“Have you ever thought about wanting to become an Animagus?” Sirius asked.

Harry looked up at him with a startled look on his face. It slowly changed into a smile and he
nodded.

“I thought you might have,” said Sirius. “It’s not easy, but I think you’ll be able to do it far
quicker than your father and I did. We had to do all the research ourselves and experiment without
any guidance. It took us three years, but we did it. Harry, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble
doing this in record time. The only problem you may have is…you might not like the animal you
become.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked perplexed.

“You don’t get to choose the animal you want to become,” Sirius answered simply. “The soul of an
animal is inside you. The trick is to figure out what it is and then concentrate fully on becoming
it.”

Harry felt very confused. “How do I have a soul of an animal inside me?” he asked.

Professor Figg then chimed in, “In carving a piece of wood or stone, it’s been said that the
carver doesn’t choose what to carve. Instead he will release the spirit that is trapped inside.
It’s an old magic that is recognized worldwide.”

“So I have to find out what animal is inside me?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Sirius nodded. “Except that we think that we may know what animal it is. If we’re right
it will make it easier, but you may not like it.”

“What is it?” Harry asked with dread in his voice.

“A snake,” Sirius replied.

“A snake? Why do you say that?” Harry asked quickly.

Sirius and Professor Figg exchanged looks.

“Because you can speak Parseltongue,” Professor Figg answered. “I am a registered Animagus and
can change into a cat. Therefore, I can speak with cats and Kneazles. Sirius can communicate with
dogs and to a lesser degree with cats. Because you can speak with snakes – we think that should you
decide on becoming an Animagus – that you would probably turn into a snake.”

Harry sighed heavily. He hated the association with snakes because it linked him with Voldemort
and Salazar Slytherin. It also seemed that snakes were regarded with suspicion by the Wizarding
World as a whole. But maybe, he thought, it might prove to be helpful sometime in escaping when his
human form might be endangered.

“Think about it Harry,” Sirius said patting him on the shoulder. “You don’t have to decide
today, but I will tell you that having the ability to assume an animal’s shape has been very
helpful for me. Arabella has also used that to her great advantage, too. You just never know when
that skill might come in handy.”

“Last year in school, Professor Moody, er -- I mean Crouch, Jr. who was posing as Moody – turned
Draco Malfoy into a ferret,” Harry stammered.

“A ferret?” Sirius snickered.

“Yeah, a pure white ferret and then he started to bounce Malfoy on the floor. It was really
funny and amazing. He did it when Malfoy had tried to hex me in the hallway while my back was
turned. Professor McGonagall was furious with Moody, er – Crouch. So maybe Malfoy would be a ferret
if he became an Animagus. It seems like it would suit him,” Harry mused.

“You may be on to something. I should have realized that Pettigrew wasn’t trustworthy when his
inner animal was a rat,” Sirius muttered darkly.

“A ferret? I would have thought he would have become a dragon because of his name,” said
Professor Figg.

“Yes, but maybe his parents misnamed him and disregarded his inner essence,” Sirius replied.

“If you were to try and transfigure me into an animal, would it automatically choose my inner
animal or would it be dependent upon the animal you had in mind?” Harry asked.

Sirius and Professor Figg looked at each other.

“That’s a good question,” they answered in unison.

Sirius started nodding his head slowly, “I know you can forcibly transfigure someone into an
animal of your choosing, but if I were to try and tap into your inner spirit…it might speed things
up considerably. If you knew what kind of animal or what kind of *snake* you might become,
then you would know how it feels being that animal first and then you could work towards doing it
to yourself.”

“I think that Sirius and I should discuss this idea before we do any transfigurations on you,”
interjected Professor Figg. “There might be some side-effects that we should take into
consideration. Let us think about that for a day or two. In the meantime, you could at least start
on your first Animagus lesson. You’ll need to concentrate on listening and recognizing your inner
animal soul.”

Harry sat and listened to both of them as they discussed how their cat and dog selves would
reflect themselves in their human form. He sat with his eyes closed and tried to concentrate like
they had instructed him. He became a bit baffled and try as he might he couldn’t think of any
snake-like tendencies, except of course being able to converse with them. Then Harry started to
think of how he liked taking naps in the sun, even though he seldom had the chance to do so. How
for years he had slept in a dark confined space of the cupboard under the stairs similar to a
snake’s lair. He found growing up that in order to get any nourishment at all that he had to eat
his food very fast before Dudley would snatch the food away. This meant that sometimes Harry felt
like he was almost swallowing his food whole.

After a full morning of meditating on his inner snake, Harry was glad to spend the afternoon
working on the various essays that had been assigned by his instructors over the summer holidays.
He had developed the routine of transfiguration exercises in the morning and studying in the
afternoon. The prospect of Animagus training was exciting, but made Harry a little apprehensive at
the same time. What would the wizarding community think if word got out that he could transform
into a snake? Would they all just assume he was an Evil Dark Wizard? Just what headlines would
there be in the *Daily Prophet*? If he ever truly did become an Animagus and he became a
snake, Harry knew that he would have to follow in his father’s footsteps and never register with
the Ministry as it would make too many people suspicious of him.

Harry had wondered if Sirius and Professor Figg would follow his suggestion to transfigure him
or if they had rejected the idea. After a week of his snake meditations, Sirius announced that
today Harry would indeed be changed into a snake.

“Harry, I want you to be aware that your thought processes will be different in your animal
form. I don’t want you to panic and bite anyone, because there’s a good chance you’ll be venomous.
If you start feeling like you need to change back, please give me a sign.”

“What kind of signal do you think I could give you? I can’t just write H-E-L-P with a paw?”
Harry said flustered.

Sirius pondered that for a moment and then brought out a catnip mouse.

“If you need to transform back, just go up and bite this mouse. Don’t swallow it, just bite
it.”

Harry gave him a look like – why would I consider swallowing a cat toy?

“Are you ready?” asked Sirius.

Harry nodded and then Sirius raised his wand and a bolt of blue-white light shot out of it.
Harry felt a shock course through his body and then he felt himself falling to the ground and his
arms and legs were frozen tightly to his body. His head started shrinking and then he felt his body
slam into the floor. He looked around and saw under the furniture. His tongue started to flicker
and when it left his mouth he sensed the pungent smells of Professor Figg’s house. It had a strong
odor of multiple cats, dried herbs and various potions that were made in the root cellar.

Harry tried to move and found it difficult. He had to think and visualize how snakes moved
forward in a sine wave like motion. He forced himself forward and once he started moving he found
it easier to do so. He started to explore the ground floor of Professor Figg’s house by roaming
over the floorboards. He found that going over the tile and hardwood floors were fine, but trying
to move over her various area rugs were difficult. He soon avoided going over those.

Harry had slithered past Sirius and Professor Figg several times, but he had trouble seeing
their faces, let alone the looks on their faces. He also instinctively knew that they were
speaking, but Harry had difficulty hearing anything. It all just sounded like muffled noises.

Harry then saw Sirius kneeling on the floor and holding the catnip mouse. He wasn’t sure what
his godfather wanted, but he slithered over next to him. Then he felt like he was being
electrocuted. The shock coursed through his entire body and he felt like his head was spinning out
of control. When the feeling subsided he realized that he was lying face down on the kitchen floor.
He started to shake uncontrollably as if he had a bad case of the chills. Professor Figg soon
wrapped an afghan over his shoulders and started rubbing his arms vigorously.

“Sirius, put a kettle on. The poor boy is freezing.”

Harry’s teeth were chattering and only after he sat down on the sofa covered up in two blankets
and holding his second cup of hot tea in his hands did he begin to feel warm.

“We certainly didn’t expect that reaction from you, Harry. But then again, neither of us has
ever turned into a reptile,” she said in a comforting voice. “Can you tell us how it felt?”

Harry looked up at her and shook his head.

“I’m still trying to piece it all together myself. Tell me, what did I look like?”

Professor Figg poured him another cup of tea and then sat down beside him.

“You were a very large snake. It’s hard to know exactly how long because you kept moving, but
I’d say you were close to a metre in length. I think you could probably swallow a rabbit or small
cat if you could catch them.”

“But why would I want to do that?” Harry asked.

“Well, last year I used my Animagus form to catch and eat rats,” replied Sirius who was standing
before the fireplace. “You just never know when your animal form and its attributes will become
helpful.”

“You also had dark brown and tan diamond patterns on your back and had bright green eyes. It’ll
be your eyes that’ll give you away as not being an ordinary snake. I’m going to have to be certain
that all my sentries are at a safe distance from you when you take that form again. I could tell
them its you, but I think they’d still get a bit antsy.”

“I couldn’t hear anything – or at least understand anything. It was all fuzzy and muffled.”

“Well, yes. Snakes don’t have ears. With training you’ll be able to maintain your own hearing
and vision, but that comes with time and practice. Tell me how was your sense of smell?” she
asked.

“Pretty powerful. I found smells coming from your root cellar overwhelming at times.”

“Well, I was brewing up some more aging potion last night after you left. It should be ready in
a few days,” she said sheepishly. “How are you feeling? You look exhausted.”

“I am. Famished, too.”

“Well let me heat up some of the chicken and dumplings left from last night’s dinner and then I
want you to rest. You can use my bed and feel free to sleep as long as you need,” she said
kindly.

Later as Harry was drifting in and out of consciousness he heard Professor Figg and Sirius
speaking in hushed tones.

“Perhaps we’re pushing him too hard. Just look at the poor boy. He’s completely worn out and
this is only the beginning.”

“He’s strong Arabella. Very strong. We just need to give him some time. He will succeed at this,
I have no doubt.”

Harry wanted to scream out, “I don’t want to be a snake!” to the shadows that were encircling
him, but he heard the high cackled laughter of Voldemort. Nagini was then chasing Harry in his
Animagus form. Nagini was gaining on him and he was afraid that he’d be swallowed by the gigantic
serpent. He was writhing around the ground between the tombstones and the only thing saving him was
that he was faster and more agile than the lumbering snake. Harry woke up drenched in a cold sweat
and seeing that it was eight o’clock at night. He sat up and felt his head spin.

“You’re awake. I thought I heard you rustling in here. How are you feeling,” Sirius asked.

“Really groggy. I think I’ve got to get going home or my aunt’s going to worry.”

“I doubt she’ll worry, but she’ll certainly begin to wonder. Why don’t you come into the kitchen
and you can have some food that we’ve been keeping warm for you.

Arabella will call and come up with some excuse as to why you’ve stayed here so long. Then I’ll
walk you home to make sure you get there safely.”

Harry nodded and stumbled into the kitchen. He had a hard time remembering what happened the
rest of the night. It seemed to be a blur of images and his dreams were vivid serpentine
fantasies.

Sirius and Professor Figg decided to give Harry a break from Animagus training for a few days.
Professor Figg brewed some pepper-up potion that was normally used to help ward off the common cold
by warming your blood. She gave some of this to Harry before Sirius transformed him into a snake.
She hoped it would warm his blood enough to avoid the severe reaction he had experienced in
changing so rapidly from warm to cold blooded.

It did seem to help him adjust and he was able to maintain his snake form for longer and longer
periods without any adverse reaction when he resumed his human state. Harry started to visualize
how he could turn himself into a snake and was able within a week to get his legs to lock together
and get a faint glistening of scales to form on his calves.

*

Harry had slipped into a comfortable routine with the Dursleys. He woke up in the morning, took
his shower, got dressed and headed for Professor Figg’s house and returned to the Dursleys’s house
after dinner. He would head straight for his bedroom where he would read over his course schedule
and plan out what he needed to cover the next day. He hadn’t seen or talked with the Dursleys in
weeks. This seemed to have suited everyone. Then Harry realized one night that he couldn’t stay
hidden in his room that night because he needed to do his laundry.

He took a towel and wadded his clothes up and gathered the top of the towel and dragged it
downstairs to the laundry room. No sooner had he started the water filling in the washing machine
did his Aunt Petunia show her face into the cramped room.

“Harry,” she said shrilly. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. I have a few questions for you.”

Harry started getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew that she wanted grist
for the gossip mill. He actively was trying to remember everything that Professor Figg and Sirius
had told them about their cover.

“How is Mrs. Figg treating you?”

*Like you’d really care about how anyone was treating me,* Harry thought darkly.

“Okay, I guess,” he answered.

“What is she having you do – all day, every day?”

“Different stuff around the house,” he shrugged. “I helped her put new wallpaper up.”

“Wallpaper? Hmmm. How is she doing? No one’s seen her outside taking her walks in a long
time.”

Harry knew that was because Professor Figg hadn’t been taking her aging potion and instead was
staying safely inside since Sirius could do the outside surveillance for her.

“Er, she twisted her knee pretty badly, so she’s trying to stay off it for awhile.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s just a lonely old lady, I guess,” Harry sighed. “She doesn’t have many people to talk to
– that’s why she has so many cats. They keep her company.”

“What about her nephew? What do you think of him?”

“He’s okay. He keeps to himself mostly. He’s busy writing, so I don’t get a chance to talk with
him much.”

“I heard he’s some academic sort,” she said with an accusation in her voice.

“Yeah, I guess. He’s said a few things about the Enlightenment and I don’t understand what he’s
talking about so I just nod my head every once and awhile.”

That seemed to satisfy his aunt. She started to leave the doorway when she turned around with a
new question.

“She lives in a small house. Where’s he sleeping?”

“I don’t know. There’s an upstairs bedroom – I assume that’s where he’s sleeping,” Harry
answered.

Then he thought about that bedroom being full of surveillance equipment. Just where *is* he
sleeping, he wondered. Then he thought of Professor Figg’s double bed and started blushing that he
hadn’t considered the obvious before. He immediately began concentrating on loading his clothes
into the washer so that his aunt wouldn’t see his red face.

“Is she still planning on leaving to see her sister?”

“Yeah, she’s been on the phone a lot talking with people – her sister, doctors and others. I
think she’s now planning on leaving in late August or early September.” *Yeah, on the Hogwarts
Express,*Harry thought.

“Well, I’ve got homework I have to work on – so if you don’t mind,” Harry said as he tried to
squeeze past his aunt.

“Very well, you may go. And I don’t want you doing laundry all night long. I’d rather not hear
the dryer going while I’m trying to fall asleep.”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry nodded and quickly bounded up the stairs three at a time.

He wanted to put as much distance as he could between himself and his aunt. She made him very
nervous and he hoped that he had been believable in his answers. He spent the rest of the night
listening carefully from his bedroom to every sound of the washer and dryer. When he went
downstairs later he saw his Aunt Petunia examining a pair of his underwear. He immediately felt the
blood rushing to his cheeks.

“It looks like the elastic is going on these. You should get some new ones before you go back in
September,” she said looking at them with disgust.

*She can’t even force herself to say the words, “go back to school”* Harry thought. He
didn’t want any more of Dudley’s hand-me-downs, especially his underwear. Talk about worn elastic.
Harry would need to tie ropes around his waist to wear those.

“Is Mrs. Figg paying you for all that work you’re doing?” she asked.

So that’s why she wanted to talk with me.

“Yeah, five pounds a week. I know it’s not much, but she’s on a fixed income and I’m not all
that handy so…” he trailed off.

“Well, by the end of the summer you should have earned forty pounds. You ought to be able to buy
your own clothes. Maybe that nephew of hers – what’s his name, again?” she asked with her eyes
narrowing.

“Umm, Joseph.”

“Joseph, what?”

“Joseph O’Brien, I think,” he replied.

“Well, maybe Joseph O’Brien could go with you clothes shopping as I don’t know that I’ll have
any time for that,” she snapped and then turned on her heel and left. Harry watched her leave with
his mouth wide open. *Well, yeah I’d much rather go shopping with Sirius than you Any
Day.*

End notes: Both my beta readers were a little creeped out that I had Harry becoming a snake
Animagus, so I’ll explain why I chose it. I believe that according to canon, if Harry does become
an Animagus that he would be a snake. Similar to the wand choosing the wizard, I believe that you
cannot choose your animal spirit. JK Rowling was asked in a Scholastic chat session: “If you were
Animagus, what kind of animal would you be?” Answer: “I’d like to be an otter – that’s my favourite
animal. It would be depressing if I turned out to be a slug or something.” - So, given that as an
answer and given that Harry is a Parselmouth, I interpret that to mean that he has the spirit of a
serpent inside. I hope that settles anyone’s unsettled nerves about that choice.

I’d like to thank Alez Burow, Arron!, Ashley, E.C.R. Potter, Lady Granger for their kind
reviews. I’d like to also give thanks to Silverleaf for giving me a detailed review by private
email. I do have something to tell Alez who was chanting H/Hr to trust me on this part. My story
wouldn’t have been accepted here unless there was a H/Hr relationship. However, this one will take
much longer to play out than the Sirius/Arabella chapter. (Even though if you think about it, their
relationship had its foundations put down many years ago, so although it might appear that they
suddenly got together – it really wasn’t. Sort of like an “overnight success” that took ten years
in the making.) Anyway, there are a few obstacles to overcome before Harry and Hermione can get
together. You know, things like Harry’s crush on Cho and that small little picky detail of Hermione
dating Viktor Krum. I want to allow the drama on those fronts to play themselves out and not be
rushed.

Stay tuned. In Chapter Four, Harry speaks with Sirius about “Matters of the Heart.”














4. Matters of the Heart
-----------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s Note: I want to thank Cara Hicks and Ama for their beta reading on this chapter. I’d
also like to mention that due to Ama’s love for Nadine, I found myself writing more scenes with
her. Enjoy!

Rating: R – For adult themes and sexual intimacy.

Chapter Four – Matters of the Heart

That night Harry stood in his bedroom gazing out the window at the night sky he saw two owls
carrying parcels swooping down to meet him. Harry looked at the clock and saw that it was now
officially his fifteenth birthday. Hedwig and Athena had returned.

“Hey, Hedwig,” Harry said as he stroked her head. “Glad to see you again.” He handed her an owl
treat and she hooted appreciatively to him. He untied a letter and package from Ron.

*Happy Birthday Harry,*

*Thanks for sending Hedwig to me. If Pig had brought back any letters, I would planned to
break you out of the Dursley household again.*

*Things are strange here this summer. It’s a daily row between my folks and Percy. The
investigation at the Ministry cleared him of any wrongdoing. Fudge was so impressed that Percy was
able to manage a department with little direction that he decided to make Percy his personal
assistant. That’s what’s causing the problems at home. If you thought he went on a lot about Crouch
last year – you should hear him prattle on and on about Fudge! I never saw Mum yell at him before
this summer. I thought he could do no wrong in her eyes. Now I wish Percy would just find his own
place to live so I wouldn’t have to hear them fight all the time.*

Remember Winky? Well, after the third task, she totally lost it and cried all the time. This
bothered the other house-elves at Hogwarts. They started complaining to Dumbledore and said they
couldn’t work with her anymore. So he decided that she needed to look after a family again and
asked my mum if she’d take Winky in. Percy objected about having the house-elf that his beloved Mr.
Crouch sacked. He soon changed his tune after Winky went on and on about how Mr. Crouch spoke
highly of him and had depended on him. I’ll have to remember that Percy falls for flattery every
time.

Winky loves doing Ginny’s hair. She spends hours braiding and fussing with it. Mum couldn’t be
happier with the help and the companionship in the kitchen.

I haven’t told Hermione about Winky yet, so please don’t tell her. I’m sure she’ll be upset,
especially after all that SPEW stuff last year, but we are treating Winky very well. She’s still
wearing clothes, but my mum makes sure they’re washed and ironed along with ours. We’re not paying
her, but she refuses that anyway. So I don’t know what else Hermione would expect, but I don’t feel
like getting any Howlers right now.

Fred and George are talking seriously about starting a joke shop after they finish school this
year. For a change Mum isn’t giving them grief about it. Maybe we needed Winky all along.

*My folks won’t tell me anything about what’s going on. They say I should leave it to them and
Dumbledore to worry about. And now Mum says that she doesn’t think you can come and stay with us at
all this summer. I’ll keep working on this because I know how you hate it with your relatives.
Especially that stupid git of a cousin.*

*Ron*

Harry opened the package from Ron and it was a book about last summer’s Quidditch World Cup with
glorious moving pictures of all the players and the incredible moves. Harry watched Viktor Krum do
his famous *Wronski* *Feint* over and over again while Lynch slammed into the ground. It
was like watching a continuous loop of instant replay on the television. Harry smiled as he turned
the pages and thought that maybe Ron had gotten over some of the hard feelings he seemed to have
about Viktor Krum.

Then Harry remembered that Athena was waiting patiently carrying a letter and package from
Hermione.

*Harry,*

*I wanted to let you know that I’ve been chosen to be a prefect as has Seamus Finnigan. I will
still try to ride at least partway on the Hogwarts Express with you and Ron, except that we’ll be
having a prefects meeting in one of the front cars for a portion of the ride. I had hoped that
either you or Ron would have been a prefect with me, but you don’t get everything you wish
for.*

*I’m leaving tomorrow for a two-week holiday with my parents. We’ve got Eurail passes and will
travel around* *Eastern Europe**. I haven’t told Ron about my travel plans, because I
think he’d get mad at me again. So let’s just keep this between us for a while.*

*I bought this gift for you because I knew you needed one after the Second Task. Hopefully
it’ll stand up to any challenges that this coming year will have in store for you.*

*Remember not to let things worry you when they are outside of your control. Here’s hoping you
have a nice birthday and rest of your summer. I’m looking forward to seeing you on September
1st.*

*Happy Birthday,*

*With love,*

*Hermione*

Harry opened her package and found a waterproof and shock resistant watch. He smiled and slipped
it on his bare wrist. He then thought about Hermione visiting Eastern Europe, he knew that meant
she was going to Bulgaria to visit Viktor Krum. And she thought that news might make Ron upset.
This is wonderful, Harry thought. Now I’m keeping secrets from my two closest friends from each
other. He shook his head and then thought about Hermione being made a prefect. He would have
expected nothing less, but he felt disappointed that he hadn’t been made one, too. He had secretly
hoped that he would follow in his parents’ footsteps and possibly become Head Boy some day. He then
thought about the hexing incident with Malfoy and his goons. He supposed that Professor McGonagall
would have a hard time overlooking that, especially if the Malfoys were lodging formal
complaints.

Harry then thought about Hagrid. He had expected to get a birthday present from that gentle
half-giant, but figured that he was probably on the mission for Dumbledore and might not have had
time to go shopping or find a post owl. He paused and said a silent prayer to hope that Hagrid was
safe on that mission as he turned out his light and went to sleep.

Harry woke up the next morning and followed his regular routine. He knew better than to expect
any acknowledgement of his birthday from the Dursleys. He was looking forward instead on spending
the day with his godfather and Professor Figg. After lunch she brought out a cake with fifteen
candles on it. She waved her wand, *“Incendium!”* and all the candles were instantly lit.

“Happy Birthday, Harry.”

He blew out the candles.

Sirius handed Harry a box. “This is from me.”

As he opened the box he saw a beautiful cloisonné pin of a Gryffindor coat of arms. Harry beamed
with happiness.

“It’s a robe clasp. I thought you might like it.”

“Thank you, Sirius. I love it.”

Harry stood up and gave his godfather a hug. Harry noticed when he hugged him that Sirius had
seemed to have gained some healthy weight in the last month. Harry could no longer feel the bones
on Sirius’s back. He knew that it was due to Professor Figg’s hospitality.

Then, Professor Figg placed a small wrapped box in front of Harry.

“This is for you Harry. It used to belong to your mother.”

Harry felt an enormous knot in his throat. Something from his *mother*. All he had was an
album of photographs of his parents that Hagrid had collected and his father’s Invisibility Cloak.
Now he was going to have something that had belonged to his mother. His fingers nervously worked to
unwrap the black box and gently he opened it. Inside he saw a blood red stone on a long golden
chain. Harry lifted it carefully out of the box and held it gingerly while he examined it. Harry
knew instinctively that it wasn’t any ordinary necklace. It had to be magical. He looked up at
Professor Figg.

“Does it have any powers?”

She nodded slowly.

“Yes, Harry. It is not a normal stone and this is something that you must keep as a secret. Wear
it always and let no one see it or know about it, not even Ron and Hermione. This stone was created
by Albus Dumbledore and his late partner Nicholas Flamel.”

“Is it a philosopher’s stone?” Harry asked worriedly.

“No. Mr. Flamel was interested in more than just alchemy. This stone is connected in spirit to
only a few others and serves as a warning when one member is in mortal peril. Should you find
yourself in a situation similar to the one a month ago, you should hold the stone in your hand and
say or think the words, ‘Fawkes, help me.’ That will make the other stones warm up and they will
respond to you.”

“You said only a few others had these stones. Can you tell me who?”

She and Sirius exchanged glances and then turned to Harry.

“Yes, there are seven stones. The other six are worn by myself, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore,
Professor Snape, Remus Lupin and Mundungus Fletcher.”

“Who is Mundungus Fletcher? I’ve heard his name before, but I know nothing about him.”

Sirius answered, “He’s an old ally of Dumbledore’s. Fletcher helped him in the defeat of the
dark wizard Grindlewald. He may be very cranky, but Dumbledore knows and trusts him.”

Harry knew better than to bring up any questions regarding Snape being trusted with one of the
necklaces. Sirius and Snape loathed each other and if Harry brought up any doubts, it would only
darken Sirius’s spirits. Harry wanted to enjoy his birthday and not cause his godfather any
pain.

Professor Figg cut the cake and set a piece in front of Harry. He took a tentative taste and was
pleasantly surprised to find that it was delicious. The last time he had cake in her house it was
dry and tasted like it was several years old. This time it was moist and flavorful.

“Professor Figg? The last time I had some cake from you, back when I was ten years old. It
tasted really funny. How come?” he asked.

“Well,” she said giving a small smile, “I actually was trying to give you some help pre-Hogwarts
and used a little potion in the mix. Just something to boost your confidence a little since the
Dursleys had done everything in their power to beat you into submission for years. However, that
was the first time I tried putting a potion into food. I must admit that it didn’t turn out as well
as I hoped. It was a failed experiment.”

Harry then thought of something else that had been nagging him. “When you broke your leg, how
come you didn’t get it fixed with magic?”

Professor Figg gave a small laugh, “Well, Harry, the problem was that I broke my leg in front of
a couple of my Muggle neighbours. Someone had distracted me and I tripped over one of my sentries
who had come to give me a report. Being an elderly widow that lives alone, I couldn’t very well
turn down the offers from my neighbours to take me to the nearest hospital. I couldn’t use the Floo
Network and fly through that tumbling system with a newly broken leg. I also couldn’t walk the
several blocks away to Disapparate, so Madam Pomfrey made a rare house call. She mended my leg so I
didn’t have to wait for it to heal in the normal fashion. The problem was that I had to hobble
around in public with a cast on my leg for weeks just so the neighbours didn’t get suspicious. The
day I was supposed to look after you happened to be the day Madam Pomfrey came to call.”

*

A few days later Sirius and Harry were in the Professor Figg’s front yard harvesting lavender.
They had large buckets that they placed the fragrant stems in after cutting them with gardening
sheers. Sirius had taken the CD player outside and was blasting Steve Winwood’s “Higher Love.” He
carefully used his wand over some of the lawn ornaments in front of the house.

“Harry, I just put a charm on the lawn gnomes so our voices will not be heard past them. All the
neighbours will hear is this music. That way we can talk without worry, so it’s okay to speak
freely. You can ask me anything.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“So Harry, tell me about the girl you’re interested in,” Sirius asked in a casual tone.

Harry swallowed hard, he’d never talked to anyone about his feelings for Cho. Not even Ron.
“Umm, she’s a year older than I am. She’s in Ravenclaw and – er – she’s also a Seeker.”

“What’s her name?”

“Cho. Cho Chang,” Harry replied.

“So, what do you know about Cho?”

Harry shook his head, “Umm, not much. She’s really cute, but she’s always surrounded by other
girls. She seems nice though.”

“Have you tried to ask her out?” Sirius asked kindly.

“Yeah,” Harry said glumly. “I asked her to the Yule Ball, but she was already going with
Cedric.”

“Cedric Diggory?”

Harry nodded.

“That’s rough,” Sirius sighed. “And now he’s dead and you probably feel guilty.”

“Yeah, I mean I know I didn’t kill him and all, but…I still feel responsible in a way.”

“I know. That’s because you’re a decent human being. Harry, have you ever really talked with
Cho?”

“Umm, not really. Just a few times in passing.”

“Harry, I’ve got to let you know that when it comes to women, I made many mistakes in my youth.
I’d like to help you to avoid some of them. First of all, you should know that being attracted to
someone is important, but it is only one part. You need to like them for who they are and not just
like how they look on the outside.”

Harry started thinking of Fleur and how beautiful but haughty she was. He definitely didn’t like
who she was on the inside even though he barely knew her.

“You want to be with someone who likes you for who you are and not who they *think* you
are,” Sirius continued. “You’ll have that problem more than most guys given your fame. I’m sure
that many girls are interested in you just because of that and don’t even know how kind and decent
you really are.”

Harry thought about the Yule Ball and how many girls had fallen over themselves to ask him out.
Girls he had never even noticed before.

“Harry, I was afraid of falling in love,” Sirius continued. “I just didn’t want to take the risk
of letting someone get close to me and then reject me. I dated a lot of women. A lot of women. When
I think back, I was a total jerk to them. At least I used protection and didn’t get anyone pregnant
or spread any diseases, but I was a real jerk. I regret that part of my youth and I don’t want to
see you treat women that way. You’d be much better off trying to follow in your father’s
footsteps.”

“What was he like? When did he meet my mum?” Harry asked anxiously.

“James was smooth,” Sirius smiled as he was remembering. “He saw your mother and instinctively
knew that she was the one for him. He liked red heads and saw her standing at King’s Cross Station
with her trunk and cat. He figured she was a Hogwarts student, but she looked a little lost and
didn’t know how to cross the barrier.”

Harry remembered the panic he had felt that first day and how relieved he was when Mrs. Weasley
helped him out.

“Your mother was a year younger than us at school and James used that to his advantage. He went
up to her and said something like, ‘Hey Red, you look a little lost. Are you by any chance looking
for Platform 9 ¾?’ She was so relieved that someone had come to help her. James then took it upon
himself to try and single-handedly introduce her to the Wizarding World. He knew that she came from
a Muggle family and if anything it made her more appealing because she wouldn’t know the first
thing about Hogwarts. He spent the whole train ride introducing her to people and telling her all
about what to expect.”

Harry nodded as he thought about how grateful he was to have befriended Ron on his first train
ride and have the “heads-up” about things before getting to Hogwarts.

“Well, by the time we arrived at school, she was eager to tell the Sorting Hat that whatever
house James Potter was in was the house for her. James was so confident that she would become a
Gryffindor that he sat at the very end of our year and saved a seat for her. That really hacked off
Bartholomew Bell when he was the first sorted and tried to sit down next to James.

“Later that night when we got back to our dorm room, Remus and I were ready to just totally rag
on James. But James turned to us and said in a deadly serious voice that Lily was ‘The One’ for him
and whatever we were thinking of saying that we should keep it in mind that he considered her to be
his future wife. I was so tempted to just hound him, but the look in his eye and the tone of his
voice…I couldn’t believe this was the same guy that just two months earlier wasn’t interested in
girls at all. Now, he was smitten. I mean *we* couldn’t see it, because all we saw was a
skinny little flat-chested girl with big red hair. James knew though. Your mother grew into a
beautiful woman. She was smart, funny and kind. Everything you should look for in a woman and James
honed in on that from the moment he met her.”

“So it was Love At First Sight?” Harry asked.

“Well, he was attracted to her beauty, but if Lily had been vain, petty and cruel – he wouldn’t
have spent any time on getting to know her. No, by the time she had grown into a beauty that turned
all the guys’ heads, James had been her best friend for at least four or five years. No other guy
ever stood a chance in winning her heart. And believe me, there were a lot of guys that would have
gone after her if your father hadn’t stood in their way.”

“Did you ever try to…?” Harry began.

“Are you kidding?” Sirius replied. “James would have taken my head off if I had ever said
anything off-colour about Lily. He made that clear the first day he met her. If I had made any
moves towards her, our friendship would have been over. You don’t mess around with even thinking
about betraying your best friend. No, I did become protective of her though. Several guys in other
houses tried to get your father in trouble. They thought she might break up with him then.”

“Is that what Snape did?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said darkly. “He and James never got along, but Snape and I – we hated each
other. Your mother was far nicer than I ever was. She stood up for Snape when I played some
harmless jokes on him. Not many girls paid any attention to him – not even in his own house. So
when Lily openly criticized me for my treatment of him – well I think he fell in love with her. The
only thing was, he couldn’t get near her with James around. So Snape started trying to get James
expelled. After awhile, I just had it with him and that’s what led me to risk his life. It was
stupid and reckless and…”

“My dad saved him?”

“Yeah, I was almost expelled over it, too. Thankfully, Dumbledore gave me a second chance. That
infuriated Snape to no end though. I think that may be why he became a Death Eater. He got hacked
off at Dumbledore, so he joined with his friends. It wouldn’t have been a big journey for him
though. He was always into the Dark Arts.”

“Sirius,” Harry said softly. “Are you and Professor Figg in love?”

Sirius avoided Harry’s eyes and continued cutting lavender.

“We’re old friends who have been through a lot together.”

“Oh sure, Harry go ahead, feel free to ask me anything,” Harry said bitterly. “But I won’t
answer you unless it’s a question I want to answer.”

Sirius turned to him and gave him a low smile.

“You’re right. I don’t know why we even thought we could keep it from you. Yes, we are in love.
It’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever felt this way.”

“When did you know that you were in love?” asked Harry.

“It’s kind of hard to explain, but you’ll know when the time comes. Your father just *knew*
– I still don’t quite know how he did, but he knew. For me, I started falling in love when I helped
a good friend through a very rough time. Arabella was very vulnerable and very open with her
emotions. I had never known any woman in that way. It was a very humbling experience and she was
depending on my strength. I saw her as a full person who was incredibly strong and vulnerable at
the same time. I had always admired and respected her, but now it was so much more.”

“How did you tell her that you loved her?”

“Oh I didn’t just then,” Sirius said shaking his head. “She wouldn’t have been able to handle it
at that time. She needed a *friend*, so that’s what I was for her even though my feelings for
her were growing much deeper. Sometimes you need to recognize timing when it comes to affairs of
the heart. We grew very close at that time and she was devastated when she heard about my arrest.
She couldn’t believe it because of how close we had grown. Now, our love for each other is based on
that friendship, respect and trust. Harry, there is no magic stronger than the power of love. I’ve
never felt so happy or complete than being in love and having someone love me in return.”

The sound of a small child running and screaming broke through the sound of the music blaring.
Nadine was slowly walking behind her daughter who had run past. The buxom woman smiled and waved at
Sirius. He shook his head and muttered under his breath as he returned his focus on cutting more
lavender.

“That, Harry, is something you’ll have to watch out for,” he said quietly. “There are many women
out there that will want to offer themselves to you. Some are like her and will wear a neon sign
announcing that they’re available. But you need to be very careful. Because when you get close to
someone physically, your own security could be at risk.”

Harry nodded grimly. Again with the worries about death threats. It’s not like I’ve even kissed
any girls yet and now Sirius is talking about women wanting to get me into bed so they can kill me,
he thought glumly.

Professor Figg walked out with some glasses of lemonade for them. As she handed one to Harry he
looked up in surprise to see her looking like an old lady again.

“How come you came outside?” he asked.

“Well, I need to make an appearance outside once and awhile. Your aunt’s question about not
having seen me made me worry a little. I don’t want anyone thinking that my nephew bumped me off. I
do have to get back inside though, this is only a little disillusionment charm and the more you
have to alter – the harder it is to keep for any length of time,” she answered.

“Arabella, do you think we should have Harry’s Animagus lesson outside tomorrow? Maybe let him
slither around the garden. We could time it for the daily Nadine waltz by?” Sirius asked with a
conspiratorial tone in his voice.

“Hmm, let me think about that,” she mused as she walked back inside.

Sirius and Harry downed the lemonade and started to rest on the porch.

“Arabella wanted to make sure that Nadine saw her. That woman is one of the biggest gossips in
the neighbourhood and so it’ll be broadcast tonight that Mrs. Figg is still around.” Sirius said.
“Arabella knows she doesn’t have to worry about me. It’s Nadine she’s worried about, because we’re
not quite sure what she’ll resort to. There are lots of tricks that women will play to get close to
guys. She walked on this side of the street even though she lives on the other side. And now ---ugh
--- I can’t believe she’s staging this…”

Harry looked at the house a few doors down across the street. Nadine had just changed into a
two-piece bathing suit and was smoothing out her towel on the lawn. Her daughter was running
through a sprinkler a few feet away. Then Nadine was settling down on the towel and untying the
straps to her bikini top while she lay on her stomach.

“Turn away Harry and don’t look back,” Sirius said as he immediately began cutting lavender
again with his back to the street. “If she really wanted to sun herself she’d be using her
backyard, which allows much more privacy and at this time of the day, plenty more sun. Nope, this
is all a show for *our* benefit. Her daughter will soon get her wet and she’ll…”

“EM-I-LEEE!”

Sirius deliberately cut more lavender and it landed in the bucket with a thud.

“And yes, that would be the sound of her jumping up when the water hit her backside. This of
course allowed her to flash the neighbourhood and give everyone around a generous eyeful,” he said
as he shook his head. “She’s the type of woman that hopes that if she keeps trying maybe someday
she’ll find someone who will stick around. I’m sure that there’s been a parade of men in her life.
It’s a very lonely and sad existence. I recognize it, because that is what mine was like many years
ago. That lifestyle robbed me of my own self-worth. I had momentary pleasures but no long-term
prospects. It was shallow and very dangerous. You never know where your temporary partner is coming
from and what they are expecting from you.”

More screeches came from across the street. Harry bent his head down and forced himself to not
give in to temptation and glance behind him.

“Umm, Sirius? How can Professor Figg know that she can trust you when you were so…”

“Promiscuous in my youth?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“That was a lifetime ago, Harry. That was when I was afraid of falling in love. I was afraid of
how it would change me. And now, there is nothing I would do that might jeopardize my relationship
with Arabella. She knows that. I certainly wouldn’t risk everything so I could spend some time with
the likes of Nadine.”

“Sirius, you said that she did that for *our* benefit. Do you think she is interested in
me?” asked Harry.

“Well, I am her main target. I wouldn’t doubt that she’d view you as a tasty afternoon snack.
You know, just something to take the edge off. Believe me,” Sirius continued, “there will be women
that will come into your life that will be willing to service you in many ways. You must learn how
to control your responses. Harry, it’s of special importance when it comes to you -- because if
*you* trust yourself to the wrong person, it could be deadly.”

Sirius stood up and brushed off the small bits of lavender clinging to his pants.

“Come on Harry, let’s go inside and get cleaned up for dinner.”

Harry followed his example and as they carried the heavy buckets brimming with lavender he was
thinking about all that Sirius had told him. Maybe he was being stupid for dreaming about Cho, a
girl he knew so little about. Then again, maybe if he got to know her like his father did with his
mother…maybe she was The One for him. Or maybe he should find someone who was a good friend, who
liked him for who he was and then follow his heart. And then there was the thought of girls or
women trying to kill him by trying to sleep with him. His head was spinning.

*

The rest of the summer seemed to go by in a daze. Harry felt he was more prepared for the coming
year than he had ever been. He had read all the material given them regarding what to expect from
the O.W.L.s. He had finished all the essays that were assigned to him from his professors and had
read several chapters in all his textbooks. He also made good progress with his Animagus training,
but he was disappointed that he couldn’t manage much more than a forked tongue and some scales
covering parts of his body. His garden forays after being transfigured did help eliminate Nadine’s
daily strolls looking for Sirius. Instead she now kept to her side of the street fearing for her
own safety (and hopefully her daughter’s also.)

After Sirius told Professor Figg that Harry knew about their being a couple, they no longer
tried to hide their affection towards one another. Harry had never seen two adults in a loving
relationship before. His aunt and uncle never seemed to express affection towards each other beyond
a compulsory peck on the cheek goodbye. Now he saw what he had hoped was what his parents’
relationship was like.

The day before he left for Hogwarts, Harry spent the day clothes shopping with Sirius. He bought
some new underwear, socks and other assorted clothes. He took the opportunity to do a little gift
shopping also. He picked up another pair of socks for Dobby the house-elf and a nice pair of ragg
wool socks for Dumbledore for Christmas. He thought maybe Dumbledore might appreciate that after
the comment he made about his image in the Mirror of Erised.

Harry also wanted to find a nice birthday present for Hermione since it was doubtful that there
would be a Hogsmeade weekend before her birthday. His gifts for her in the past year always seemed
a bit lame. He had been pleased with the broomstick servicing kit and the watch that she had given
him. He wanted to be sure to get her something that she’d really like this time. He didn’t know
where to start and Sirius said one word, “jewelry.”

When they were looking in the jewelry department Harry was a bit overwhelmed by everything and
the outrageous prices. He wanted something small and simple. Sirius told him that rings were out,
because those were too intimate of a gift. Rings could only come from those who were romantically
involved. Harry settled on a nice gold locket. It seemed like something she’d fancy without being
too personal in nature.

Harry had been a little concerned at first about how to pay for these things since he didn’t
have any Muggle money and all his gold was in Gringotts. Sirius told him that Dumbledore had made
arrangements in regards to the expenses for Mrs. Figg for years using a credit card. Somehow or
another the bills always got taken care of and they never appeared in her mail. As long as they
weren’t extravagant, it should all be taken care of by Dumbledore’s usual arrangements.

Professor Figg had also given both Harry and Sirius haircuts on the last day of August. She had
offered to quietly and privately cut Harry’s hair at school so that he wouldn’t have to worry about
his hair landing in the wrong hands. Sirius on the other hand would have to allow his to grow until
she would have a chance to return to the Zone.

As Harry was leaving that night carrying all his purchases back to Privet Drive, Sirius pulled
him to the side.

“I’ve got something else for you Harry,” Sirius said quietly as he slipped him a package of
condoms. “This is just in case you fall in love and decide to...I want you to be prepared,
understand?”

Harry immediately turned red at the sight of the box, but nodded and slipped it into one of his
shopping bags.

“Now Harry, I don’t want you doing anything spontaneous. That’s ‘cause I worry about you. If you
find yourself getting serious with someone, I want you to talk to me first. Got it?”

“Yeah,” he said in a soft voice.

“Now, since Arabella doesn’t believe in owl post here – we won’t be able to send letters to each
other this year. If you need to talk to me, let her know and she can call me through her fire for
you. Don’t try doing it from the Gryffindor common room, it’s too risky.”

“Hey Sirius, I’ve been meaning to ask you. What ever happened to Buckbeak?”

“I left him in the Forbidden Forest. That’s where all the misfit creatures wind up. Don’t go
looking for him or anything else in there.”

Harry started thinking of the Acromantulas he met in his second year.

“No, I won’t be going in there unless I have to. I’ve met some of the creatures in there and
it’s pretty spooky.”

Sirius then ruffled Harry’s hair and wound up giving him a bear hug. “I’m going to miss you kid.
Your parents would have been very proud of you.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Sirius,” he said with his voice cracking.

“Okay, it’s off with you now! And behave yourself,” Sirius said with a wink.

Professor Figg stepped towards them and gave Harry a large smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow on the train. The hard part starts tomorrow when I have to pretend that
I’ve never met you. I just wanted you to know that I’ve really enjoyed working with you this
summer. It’ll be hard to not play favourites with you at school, but know that if I appear harsh
with you – it may just be for other people’s benefit. That is unless you *give* me something
to be mad at you about…,” she said with a sly smile.

“I’ll try not to disappoint you. And thanks again for everything Professor Figg. This has been
the best summer of my life,” he said as she gave him a hug goodbye.

Harry left the house and looked forward to waking up the next morning to go back to Hogwarts. No
more Dursleys for ten months! Then he thought about Sirius and Professor Figg. They had just become
a couple two months ago and now they were going to be apart for almost a year. He knew that the
separation would be hard on them. Then he thought about this being their last night together and he
started getting images in his mind that were hard to get rid of. It was going to be difficult
having her as an instructor if he thought of her in *that way.*

The next day his Uncle Vernon grumbled and complained all the way to London. Harry thought that
his uncle ought to be grateful that it was only the second time that he had to ferry his nephew to
the train station. The other years Harry had wound up having the Weasleys see him off to school.
Nothing was going to dampen his spirits today. He was going back to school and wanted this year to
be special.

Harry smiled as he pushed his trunk with Hedwig’s cage resting on top through King’s Cross
station. He saw Ron and Hermione waving to him as soon as he passed through the barrier at Platform
9 ¾.

“Harry! There you are. Let’s grab a compartment before they’re all full,” Ron said
anxiously.

“Hey Harry, it’s great to see you!” Hermione said as she gave him a quick hug. “I just want to
stow my trunk in your compartment. I have to go to that prefects’ meeting for the beginning of the
trip, but I’ll come back later.”

They started making their way onto the train when another voice came through the air.

“Harry!”

He turned to see that it was Cho that had called.

“Oh, hi,” he stammered as he felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Harry, could I talk with you? Alone?” she asked.

“Ah, sure. Just let us get our stuff put away.”

Ron gave Harry a wink and a quick nudge in the ribs. Harry glowered at him in return. After
their trunks were put away Ron left saying he was going to visit with Fred and George for a while.
Cho walked awkwardly into the compartment. Harry pointed to a seat and gave her a small smile.

“Harry, can you tell me what happened to Cedric?” she asked. “I’ve been waiting all summer to
ask you. I tried writing you, but my owl returned my letter.”

“Sorry about that. I was getting hate mail, so I stopped taking letters for awhile.”

Then Harry turned and went to close the compartment door. He pulled his wand out and muttered a
few words under his breath.

“I just put a charm on the door so our voices wouldn’t carry. This may sound weird, but before I
tell you anything, I need to make sure that you truly are Cho Chang and not someone who is
impersonating you. Tell me something that only Cho would know.”

She looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“Umm, how about…I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup last summer and you wound up spilling a
bunch of water down your front?”

He smiled sheepishly as he remembered that embarrassing incident.

“That’ll work. Cho, I’m going to tell you a few things that aren’t widely known. Please try to
keep them to yourself as I’m not sure how much Headmaster Dumbledore wants known. Also there will
be some things that I can’t tell you.”

He sat down across from her and noticed that her eyes had grown wide with fear.

“Okay, umm, where to begin? Well you know that Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me
when I was a baby?”

She nodded and flinched when Harry had said Voldemort’s name.

“Voldemort wasn’t killed that night, because he had done so many evil things that he wasn’t
quite human anymore. So he wound up just existing in some weird evil vaporish form all these years.
Anyway, a year ago one of Voldemort’s old servants was flushed out of his hiding place for twelve
years. He made his way to Albania where he found Voldemort’s essence. This servant was able to help
nurse his master back to a small state of health again. He also met up with Bertha Jorkins the
Ministry of Magic employee that went missing last year. Voldemort tortured her for information
before he killed her. It was her information that led him to devise a plan to enter me into the
Triwizard Tournament so that he could get to me and return to a full human body.”
“Harry, why do you of all people use *his* name?”

“Professor Dumbledore says his name and requested that I do the same. He says that fear of a
name increases fear of the thing itself. I have chosen to follow his advice and so I say
Voldemort’s name. I know he wants me dead, but I also know that living in fear is not really
living,” he said simply.

Cho started to look at Harry with a look of awe in her eyes.

“So what was the plan that V-V-Vol…” she gulped.

Harry took a deep breath and then told her of Crouch, Jr. having been sentenced to life in
Azkaban for being a Death Eater. (He did not tell her about the Longbottoms.) And how Crouch, Sr.
had devised a scheme to break his son out of Azkaban using his dying wife and Polyjuice Potion and
had kept his son under the Imperius curse at home for years. Then how the tables were turned as
Crouch, Sr. was put under the Imperius curse by Voldemort. This led to Crouch, Jr. and another
Death Eater overpowering Moody and holding him hostage while Crouch, Jr. impersonated Moody all
year long. Cho gasped when she heard that last year’s Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor had
been a Death Eater in disguise. Harry then told her that it was Crouch, Jr. that had entered his
name into the Goblet of Fire. The plan was for Crouch, Jr. to assure Harry’s victory by any means
possible. That during the third task, Crouch, Jr. had stunned Fleur and put Krum under the Imperius
curse which forced him to put Cedric under the Cruciatus curse.

“No!” she said horrified.

“I heard that curse in the maze and I couldn’t believe it. I stopped and burst my way through
the hedges to get to them. I stunned Krum to stop Cedric’s torture. So *The* *Daily
Prophet* was right in that I did stun one of my competitors, but it wasn’t so I could get ahead.
It was to stop someone else from being tortured.”

Harry then told her about his warning Cedric just as an Acromantula was about to attack him. And
how Harry wound up being attacked by the giant spider and that it took both he and Cedric working
together to stun the monster. Then their disagreement as to who should take the cup and how in the
end they decided to call it a tie and they grabbed the cup at the same time.

Cho smiled at that thought, but her smile disappeared as soon as Harry told her that the cup had
been made into a Portkey and that it took them to a remote cemetery.

“If I hadn’t insisted on Cedric sharing the cup with me, he’d be alive today…”

“What happened?”

“As soon as we landed in the cemetery, I heard Voldemort’s voice. He said…,” Harry paused as he
took a large swallow. “*Kill the spare.* As if Cedric didn’t even matter.”

A single tear fell down Cho’s face.

“Then I was tied up to a tombstone and the servant did a ceremony that was gruesome and helped
to create a new body for Voldemort.”

“Why did they need you there?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

“Voldemort wanted my blood.” Harry raised the sleeve of his shirt and Cho gasped as he showed
the scar on his right forearm. “He wanted blood from his greatest foe. And since I am the only one
who has ever survived when he’s tried to kill them, that’s how he thinks of me.”

Cho shook her head slowly as if she couldn’t understand what was being said.

“What happened then?”

“He summoned the Death Eaters, they Apparated in a large circle. He gave them all a speech,
greeting them and gloating over them. Then he had me untied because he wanted to duel with me.”

“*You duelled with him?*” she asked with her mouth agape.

“Yeah. I don’t know how I survived it, but something really weird happened and some ghosts of
the people Voldemort killed appeared. I saw Cedric’s and he asked me to bring his body back to his
parents. I also saw the ghosts of my parents,” he said with his voice thick with emotion.

“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry,” she said shaking her head.

“Yeah, well, somehow they protected me and I ran back to where Cedric’s body was lying and I
summoned the cup just before Voldemort tried to curse me again. I returned to Hogwarts. It was
later that night that I found out all about Crouch, Jr. and how they plotted it all. Crouch had
taken me from the maze against Dumbledore’s orders and he almost killed me when Dumbledore stunned
him. Later Crouch was interrogated under the influence of Veritaserum, that’s how we know what
happened,” he said with a deadened voice.

“How come Minister Fudge said that there was no evidence to support your story?”

“Because Fudge summoned a Dementor to accompany him to meet with Crouch. As soon as he entered
the room it descended upon him and gave him the Dementor’s Kiss. That destroyed the evidence,”
Harry said bitterly.

Cho put her hand over her mouth and looked like she was going to be ill. After a few minutes of
silence she looked at straight at Harry.

“Why does *he* want to kill you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know why he wanted to kill me when I was a baby, but now I think
Voldemort feels that he has to kill me now in order to prove to everyone that no one is safe from
him. But for some reason I continue to stump him.”

“Oh Harry, you are so brave. I don’t know how you do it. I knew this summer that there had to be
more to the story than what I was reading in the paper. It didn’t make any sense. I mean I don’t
really know you, but you just don’t seem like the evil type.”

He gave her a wan smile, “Thanks.”

“I know that sounds bad, but…” then she hid her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to think
anymore. Things are so crazy and I just feel so torn up inside.”

“Did you love Cedric?” he asked quietly.

She looked up at him. “I think so. Or at least I think I was falling in love with him. And now,
I’m so afraid to even *think* about guys.”

“Cho, there’s something else I have to talk with you about. I really don’t want to, but it’s for
your own safety.”

“What?”

“Umm, you might become a target for attack.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because,” Harry blushed, “You remember when I asked you to the Yule Ball? Well, I don’t know
how many people found out about that, but there were a couple people in the Gryffindor Tower that
heard about it and…you know, because I think you’re cute – you might become a target by Death
Eaters just in order to get to me.”

“Oh,” she said looking at him with terror in her eyes.

“So umm, in regards to your security…you need to do a few things. Like save all your hair. You
need to use a wand every morning on your bedsheets, your comb and brush and the bathroom drain to
collect and then destroy your hair. That way it can never be used against you. We also have to come
up with a signal for when we see or talk to each other. That’s so we know that we’re talking to
each other and not a Death Eater in disguise.”

“Harry, I know you said you think I’m cute, but…I have to tell you that I’m…that I’m not ready
to date *anyone* right now. And although you seem really nice and all, I don’t know that I
could ever be interested in you. It’s just that…I’m not brave like you. I felt bad enough worrying
about Cedric last year during the tournament, but I never ever thought he’d get killed. I can’t
allow myself to think about getting involved and caring for someone who…” and she started
sobbing.

“Who could get killed or get you killed,” Harry finished her thought.

She nodded her head.

Harry fished in his pocket and found a handkerchief and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she croaked.

“I’m really sorry Cho. I never asked for this kind of attention and I’d do anything to be rid of
it, but that’s not going to happen. For some reason, I’m Voldemort’s Achilles Heel and now he’s
back and no one knows what’s going to happen. I don’t want to see anything happen to you or anyone
else. I know that last year I couldn’t leave any of the hostages under water. That’s because I
couldn’t live with myself if anyone had died if I could have done something to avoid it. I know I
couldn’t have saved all four of you, but I couldn’t just leave with Ron until I knew everyone was
going to be safe. That’s why I need to set up a signal with you. If a Death Eater tries to set up a
trap and uses you as bait, I want to make sure it’s you and not someone disguised as you who’s just
waiting there to kill me. So, maybe you could just toss your hair and say ‘Hey’ when you see me.
And I could blink and then say, “Umm, Hi.’ It’s something simple that no one will notice, but if we
don’t do that at the beginning – both of us will know that the other is an imposter.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll try.”

“Since I know there’s no hope for anything to happen between us, I’ll do my best to stop
thinking of you in that way. I’ll try to just leave you alone.”

“I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t *talk* with you Harry.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about me and please don’t tell anyone about this discussion. I also
have to come up with signals for Ron and Hermione. They’re probably bigger targets than you are, so
maybe in some small sense that’ll make you feel a little safer. I feel awful that *anyone* has
to worry about their safety because of me.”

“It’s not because of you, Harry,” she said firmly. “It’s because of an evil wizard who hates
you. I never understood why my parents avoided talking about what happened to my grandparents, but
this summer they told me that they had been murdered by Death Eaters five years before I was born.
It’s not your fault, so stop blaming yourself. We all have to come to grips with this new
reality.”

“Thanks,” Harry said brightening a little.

The door on the compartment slid open and then the last person Harry would have wanted to see
walked in.

“What do we have here?” drawled Draco Malfoy. “Potter is *already* trying to make a move on
Cedric’s girlfriend? His body is just barely cold.”

“Sod off, Malfoy!” Harry snapped.

“Are you going to attack me *again* Potter? Of course, this time you’ll be attacking a
prefect and maybe Dumbledore will be forced to punish you,” he said menacingly. Harry then noticed
the bright shiny badge pinned on Malfoy’s robes.

“Please leave, Draco. Harry and I were having a *private* conversation,” Cho said with a
tinge of anger.

“I’d watch him if I were you Cho. He’s not above trying to take out his opponents to get to what
he wants.”

“*Really?* I thought that description covered you in our last Quidditch match,” she said
bitterly.

Draco gave a snort and just then Professor Figg stood towering behind him.

“Is there a problem here?”

“No, he was just leaving,” Harry said.

“Hmmm, I see you’re a prefect. I believe there’s still a prefect’s meeting going on at the front
of the train. Why aren’t you there?” she asked.

“I had to visit the loo.”

“Well, now that you’ve relieved yourself, I think you should get back to your meeting,” she said
firmly.

“And who are you?” Draco asked.

“I’m Professor Figg, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor. Your name is…”

“Draco Malfoy.”

“Of course. You look exactly like your father. I’m looking forward to seeing how well you
perform in my class. Please, give my regards to your father,” she said coolly as she ushered him
out the door. She then turned and looked at Harry and tugged at an earlobe.

“So, you must be Harry Potter. It’s good to finally meet you.”

Harry ran a hand over his forehead, pushed his glasses up and nodded. Then he stood and extended
his hand to her.

“Umm, it’s good to meet you also, Professor.”

“And you are?” she asked.

“Cho Chang.”

“It’s nice to meet you both and I’ll be looking forward to seeing you in class. If you don’t
mind, I think I’ll get back to my compartment.”

Harry gave a sigh of relief and looked at Cho. She was looking at him with a strange expression
on her face.

“Thank you for talking with me, Harry. I really appreciate it and I appreciate your candor. I
wish things were different, but…well, good luck this year. And I’ll see you on the Quidditch
pitch,” she said as she left the compartment.

Harry sat dazed and alone in his thoughts for a few minutes before Ron knocked on the wall.

“Hey, Harry. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Come on in.”

“What did Cho want to talk to you about?”

Harry moved to close the compartment door.

“She wanted to know what happened to Cedric.”

“What did you tell her?”

Harry sighed. “As much as I thought I could tell her. I left certain things out, but told her
enough that she knows that I didn’t just kill him so I could try to date her.”

“Why would she think that?” asked Ron.

“Malfoy implied that. He stopped by here just to annoy the hell out of me.”

“I’m glad we hexed him last time when we got the chance,” Ron said bitterly.

“Yeah, well I don’t know how smart that was, but he certainly deserved it.”

The trolley witch came by and knocked on the glass door. Harry opened it and made some purchases
for them as well as saving some for Hermione.

“I hope that meeting breaks up soon,” Harry said.

“Oh, I’ve *got* to tell you this. Hermione stayed with us at the Burrow for the last three
days. Her parents were at a dentist’s convention and couldn’t see her off to school. Anyway, I was
afraid she’d be mad at me because of Winky. As it turned out, Hermione seemed totally cool with it.
She talked with Winky almost non-stop the whole time. Then yesterday she told us that we needed to
leave an extra hour early today because she needed to stop at a Muggle bookstore on the way. She
used this strange machine which spit out Muggle paper money and she came out with a big bag of
books,” said Ron as he rolled his eyes. “Just what she needed *more* books! I can’t believe
she can even move that trunk of hers.”

Hermione slid open the compartment door and smiled brightly at them.

“You seem awfully quiet. You weren’t talking about me were you?”

“Ah, maybe just a little. Please sit down, there’s some cauldron cakes over there that we saved
for you,” Harry said as he went to close the door again.

“It’s hot in here, Harry. Can’t we leave the door open or open a window?” Ron complained.

“Not yet, I have to talk to you two about something and I need to make sure no one overhears. I
put a silencing charm on the door earlier.”

“What’s up?” Hermione asked.

“First of all, I need both of you to prove to me that you are really Ron Weasley and Hermione
Granger. Tell me something that only you would know.”

“Okay, we made a Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,” said Hermione.

“Wormtail slept in my bed for three years,” said Ron with disgust.

“Fred gave my cousin Dudley magical toffee last summer,” said Harry. “I think that should
satisfy everyone. Okay, now that I know both of you are who I thought you were, we’re going to have
to come up with a signal and some passwords. We need to be sure that when we first meet each other
that we aren’t talking to someone who’s been Polyjuiced to look like us. The signal can be
something simple. For instance Ron you could sniff and say ‘umm’ and Hermione maybe you could lick
your lips and say, ‘well’ before you say anything else.”

“That doesn’t seem like much of a signal,” said Hermione sceptically.

“We don’t want it be noticeable to others. Something small and simple that no one else will pay
any attention to. I can blink slowly and say, ‘er’ before I say anything else. If either one of you
can think of better signals to use, I’m open to some suggestions. We also need a password to use in
case we are ever in doubt and the signals aren’t working. I think the password should be Moony,
Padfoot and Prongs.”

Ron and Hermione nodded at that. Harry then told them the importance of saving their hair and
nail clippings.

“Where did you get all these ideas?” Ron asked.

“Sirius,” Harry lied.

“Okay, is there anything else you need to tell us in confidence? Because I’m roasting and need
some air,” complained Hermione.

Harry smiled and opened the door and windows. They played Exploding Snap the rest of the way to
Hogwarts and tried not to talk about anything of importance. As they exited from the train Harry
saw the familiar sight of Hagrid directing the first year students into the boats across the lake.
They exchanged a quick friendly wave.

After the horseless carriages brought them to the castle and they were standing waiting for the
massive doors to open, Harry was feeling a bit anxious looking around the crowd. The other students
seemed to looking at him out of the corner of their eyes. It wasn’t outright hostility, but he
sensed many suspicious glances in his direction. He tried to ignore the looks and remind himself
that during his second and fourth years that he had experienced similar treatment by the student
body. *This too shall pass*, he tried to remind himself.

After Professor McGonagall welcomed all the returning students into the Great Hall, she walked
up to Harry and touched him on the shoulder.

“Come with me,” she said curtly.

**

End notes: I’d like to thank those who are following along with my story and especially those
who have taken the time to review. Alez Burrow wanted to see more humour, I hope the scene with
Nadine fit that bill for you. Yurimionepotter wanted to know when the ship was going to set sail.
Well, umm, Harry is only now getting directions as to where to find the coastline. It’ll be a bit
before he even finds the pier, let alone the ship. This is a novel length story and not just a
vignette. These things do take time in order for them to be seen as believable and not rushed.
You’ll soon start seeing hints of attraction between the two in the next few chapters.
Lilyflower017 and kinicky 21 I’d like to thank you for your kind words. My eye for detail is
something that I pride myself on. I’m glad you appreciate all the detail that I put into the story.
And Thelyvyn, I’d like to send out a special thanks to you. Because of your recommendation for my
story on the Soap Free H/Hr board, I was contacted by NAPPA and that’s when I learned about this
website. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much a second time through and maybe you’ll pick up
on some clues that you might have missed the first time through. Especially with the “Christmas at
the Burrow” chapter, which was one of my favourites to write.

Up next: Chapter Five: Harry’s Punishment. This is where we will see how the hexing incident on
the train plays out and where Malfoy is finally put in his place by a professor. Yesss.



5. Harry s Punishment
---------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s notes: Thanks go to Cara Hicks and Ama for their beta reading my work.

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Five – Harry’s Punishment

Harry could feel his stomach sink and dreaded what was to come. He followed Professor McGonagall
through the Great Hall and felt that everyone was looking and whispering at him. She brought him to
the side room off the Great Hall where the Triwizard champions had met after their names had
emerged from the Goblet of Fire. He felt almost as nervous as he did then, but at least he had an
inkling of what to expect this time. He realized from the stern expression on her face that he was
going to be punished for the hexing incident on the Hogwarts Express. Dumbledore was seated behind
a table and gestured for Harry to sit down across from him.

“Well, I have to oversee the Sorting,” Professor McGonagall said as she abruptly left.

“Harry, I think you know why you are here. There is a matter of concern that occurred on the
train ride home at the end of the last school year. Did you place hexes on Misters Malfoy, Crabbe
and Goyle?”

Harry nodded glumly.

“Were there other students who also hexed them?”

“I’d rather not say,” he said timidly.

“I understand. You’d rather take all the punishment than turn in your friends.”

Harry nodded again.

“Well, I am put in the position of having to make an example out of you for the entire school
body to recognize that hexing other students is unacceptable. I have never found a reason worthy
enough for using Veritaserum on a student before…”

Harry looked up with dread in his eyes.

“…and I still do not think this warrants its usage in this matter either. Therefore, I shall
deduct fifty points from Gryffindor, which shall actually make the house start at a deficit at the
beginning of the school year. And in addition, you shall serve a detention every Saturday for the
entire month of September.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide at that.

“Where you shall come to my office and we will work privately on your transfiguration lessons.
Sirius and Arabella have kept me informed of your amazing progress,” he said with a twinkle in his
eyes. Harry suddenly brightened at the thought. Here Dumbledore figured out a way to outwardly
punish Harry, but secretly allow for the continuation of his Animagus training.

“I think you should also know that Professor McGonagall had favoured making you a prefect, but
reconsidered after this unfortunate incident. And while I wish it had not occurred, it may serve
some useful purposes. Everyone in the school will soon learn about it and realize that you and your
friends are not people they want to cross.”

“But they’ll hate me. Especially if they believe what was printed in *The* *Daily
Prophet.*”

“Well, Nicolo Machiavelli wrote that it is more secure to be feared than to be loved.”

“But that sounds more like Voldemort than me,” Harry protested.

“Yes, he certainly is feared,” Dumbledore agreed, “but right now people will soon be deciding
where to cast their allegiances. The teenage years are a time of great turbulence and decision
making. Traditionally it has also been a time of recruitment by those involved in the Dark Arts.
The choice between what is right versus what is easy is never a simple one to make. There are many
factors to consider. Voldemort’s forces will probably resume their old carrot and stick approach to
tempt people to join their side. The carrot is increased powers, accelerated advancement in your
chosen career path, and a sense of belonging to a secret society. Of course the downside is that
you are then compelled to follow any order to hurt or kill others – even people you care about. A
real Bargain with the Devil. The stick if you choose not to join is the threat of harm to those
closest to you or your own death.”

“So how do we combat that?”

“That’s why I think there may be an upside to your fellow students fearing you a little. You may
serve as a deterrent for them to join with the Death Eaters. If they sense that they also are at
risk of harm should they become your adversary, then it makes it more difficult for them to choose
the easy path of siding with the Dark Forces.”

“What about the Ministry of Magic? Doesn’t the threat of going to Azkaban serve as a deterrent?”
Harry asked.

“Not as much as one would think. The Ministry has always been a rich target for infiltration by
Voldemort’s forces. Many people who should have been locked away had their airtight cases seemingly
disintegrate overnight. No, it is not the Ministry that people feared the most that allied
themselves with Voldemort. Instead it was the band of agents that worked for me. Your father and
mother were part of that group, as you are also.”

Harry swallowed hard, “I – I am?”

“Yes, whether or not you realized it, you have been working for me in fighting Voldemort and his
forces for years. Since his bodily return it is more important than ever to marshal all the forces
I can to form a united front against evil.”

“Sir, do you want to know why I hexed Malfoy?”

“Yes, please tell me.”
“He said that I picked the wrong side. That Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers were going to be the first
targets and then he corrected himself to say that Cedric was the first target. I took that as a
threat and that’s when I hexed them.”

Dumbledore nodded, “That’s an understandable interpretation. We must also consider that Misters
Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle have been groomed to follow their fathers into the ranks of the Death
Eaters.”

“Then why are they at this school?” Harry demanded.

“Because it is our choices in life that reveal more about who we are more than our abilities.
They will soon decide for themselves whether to follow in their fathers’ footsteps in the path that
has been laid out for them or whether they will rebel and set out on their own path. The teenage
years are commonly a rebellious time even in normal households that are not facing such dire
choices. Now, I doubt that Mister Malfoy will decide to become your best friend, but he should see
you as a worthy adversary – especially after the train incident. He shall now sense that he will be
in personal danger should he follow his father’s lead. Should he or the other children from similar
households decide to reject their predetermined destiny, they could prove to be very valuable to
our side as they will be talented and be incredible sources of information. So, that is one reason
that they are here, they have not yet chosen their future paths and therefore we should not judge
them and reject them due to the sins of their parents.”

Dumbledore checked his bizarre watch, “The sorting should be over by now and everyone is waiting
for the feast to begin. We should rejoin them and Harry, there’s one more thing…”

“What’s that sir?”

“Try not to seem repentant about the incident. Don’t gloat, but don’t apologize either.”

Harry nodded as he followed Dumbledore out of the room. There was just so much about the
headmaster that continually amazed him. As they entered the main hall and Harry made his way to his
seat at the Gryffindor table, he felt all eyes following him as he walked. Hushed voices murmured
as he passed. After Harry sat down, Dumbledore stood and then all the heads turned towards the head
table.

“I’d like to welcome all the new students to Hogwarts and welcome back all the returning
students. Last year’s Triwizard tournament was exciting as it allowed a lively competition and
allowed for the opportunity to foster greater ties with others in the Wizarding World. This year
promises to be more traditional in that our competition is the normal inter-house rivalry for the
House cup. There is also the attempt to bridge those gaps by having different houses share classes
together. It is the mission of Hogwarts to prepare all of its students for the Wizarding World.
Competition and cooperation with one’s rivals is a large part of that. However…” and his voice grew
serious, “when competition is not tempered with reason it can also lead to an unhealthy animosity.
This was exemplified by an unfortunate incident at the end of the last school year.”

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw Malfoy gloating at him. Harry kept his face
expressionless and did not avert his gaze.

“This type of anger between houses and students will not be tolerated. The student at the center
of this controversy will be dealt with by a severe punishment. His house shall be docked fifty
points and he shall serve detentions for every Saturday this month starting tomorrow.”

Murmurs and gasps were heard throughout the room and loud snickers were coming from the
Slytherin table.

“Let this serve as a lesson for all of you. There is no excuse for hexing a fellow student, even
if someone insults the memory of someone like our former student Cedric Diggory.”

Then all heads turned towards Draco Malfoy and his eyes flashed with anger and darted from Harry
to Dumbledore. Words such as ‘insulted Cedric?’ ‘how dare he’ were heard above the hushed whispers.
Dumbledore used his hands to motion the room to silence.

“There is one more thing that I must mention before the feast begins. There are those who refuse
to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned. Some even say that there is no evidence of this.
Believe me when I tell you that it is the truth and we all shall soon be faced with hard decisions
in our lives as to where we shall place our loyalties and allegiances. I want to assure everyone
that they are safe while they are here at Hogwarts. To ensure this safety I promise you that anyone
who would participate in activities in support of Voldemort while they are at this school shall be
expelled. I also want any attempts to recruit any current students to his side to be brought to my
attention without delay. Anyone who violates those rules shall find themselves out of Hogwarts and
their wands broken.”

The room was filled with a thick silence. Then Dumbledore’s face softened and his warm smile
returned. “And now for the highlight of the evening,” he clapped his hands and all the golden
plates were heaped with food. “Enjoy!”

Everyone began to dig into the sumptuous feast that lay before them.

“Fifty points!” Dean Thomas said angrily. “We haven’t even started the school year yet. Thanks a
lot Harry.”

Fred waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry Dean, we’ll make that up in our first Quidditch match. Didn’t you say you were
interested in trying out for the team this year?”

Then the talk at the table turned away from Harry’s punishment to looking at this year’s
prospects for winning the Quidditch Cup. It seemed that both Ron and Dean were planning on trying
out for the team as well as several other younger classmates.

Later when they were all safely back in Gryffindor Tower, the twins came up to Harry and spoke
to him quietly.

“Did Dumbledore ask about anyone else?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t press the issue. Malfoy was there because of me, so I
took full responsibility,” Harry replied.

“Harry, that’s awful big of you,” George said.

“Well, now everyone will know that I’ve done something worthy of fifty penalty points and five
detentions. Hopefully, that’ll scare anyone away with an idea of attacking me,” Harry said
coolly.

“You’re tougher than you look, Harry Potter,” Fred said admiringly.

“Yeah, well I have to be,” Harry said. “Just make sure when people talk about this incident in
front of you, that everyone knows that I never apologized and I’d do it again to Malfoy if he
provokes me.”

“Will do,” said George.

“Oh and Harry,” Fred added. “We wanted to tell you that we’ve started on our business plan. We
hope to get some of our product line in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. We’ve made some contacts and
hope to sell some things on consignment.”

“That’s great,” Harry said.

“Well, you’re our venture capitalist. We’ll be giving you a share of our profits. That is once
we turn any. Just thought you’d like to know,” said George.

*

The next day after breakfast Harry went to Professor Dumbledore’s office and looked at the
gargoyle standing guard outside. Other years when he needed to speak with Dumbledore urgently he
would try to guess what the password was. This time he was expected, so he simply knocked on the
wall near the gargoyle. A few moments later, the revolving staircase opened and Hermione walked
down the stairs. She looked directly at Harry, gave her lips a quick lick and then flashed a large
smile at him.

“Well, good morning Harry.”

He stood with his mouth open, staring at her. He blinked and said, “Er – hello.”

Harry wondered if Hermione felt compelled to tell Dumbledore her part in the hexing incident
even though he had shielded everyone else from taking any punishment. It would be just like her, he
thought.

Hermione turned and shook Dumbledore’s hand, “Thank you for your time, Headmaster.”

“Anytime Miss Granger. Good luck with your project and please keep me updated,” he said with a
broad smile on his face.

Harry looked puzzled as she walked past him.

“What was *that* about sir?”

“Should Miss Granger wish to tell you about it, I’m sure you will find out. Please come in to my
office,” he said as he climbed up the stairway. As they walked into Dumbledore’s office, the
headmaster gestured to a chair. “Have a seat, Harry. I’ve heard from Professor Figg about your
progress in Animagus training, but I’d like to hear how you feel it is going.”

Harry started to tell Dumbledore about his experiences of being forcibly transfigured and how he
gradually became accustomed to the abrupt changes between being human and becoming a reptile and
back again. He no longer needed the pepper-up potion to keep him from developing massive
chills.

“I haven’t been able to make much progress in turning myself into the snake form though.”

“Perhaps the emotion you are using when concentrating on this task is not the most powerful one
for you,” Dumbledore observed.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me Harry about some of the wandless magic you exhibited before you came to Hogwarts.”

Harry thought back to the strange things that happened such as the disappearing glass at the zoo
and when he forced his hair to grow back overnight when his aunt gave him a horrible haircut. He
told those incidents to Dumbledore.

“So the emotions involved behind that magic involved either anger or fear,” Dumbledore
observed.

“Yeah, that seems about right.”

“Well, I want you to focus your mind on those emotions and then try to work on your
transfiguration. I assume that if you recall that evening in the graveyard that you should have
enough anger and fear to work with.”

Harry looked at him solemnly and nodded.

“Let’s get started shall we. Please lay down on the floor and start concentrating on that
evening. Give way to your anger at what happened to Cedric. Let it seethe inside of you.”

Harry had tried for the last few months to banish any thoughts about that evening and now
Dumbledore was compelling him to not only think about it, but to fully concentrate on feelings that
he had actively tried to suppress. As Harry stood up, something out of the corner of his eye caught
his attention. He noticed that a lush terrarium was sitting on an end table that he had never
noticed before. Clinging on the inside of the glass was a large black beetle.

“Umm, sir – I noticed your terrarium…”

“It’s a nice addition, don’t you think? It’s filled with the flora and fauna captured from our
wonderful school grounds.”

“Umm, is it wise to have it here in your office where…”

Dumbledore gave a knowing smile. “Like most things at Hogwarts there are many charms placed upon
the item. I enjoy having it within my view to ensure its security.”

Harry knew they were dancing around the subject and Dumbledore didn’t want to come right out and
talk about Rita Skeeter being held prisoner in her Animagus form. He felt that it was best to just
play along rather than be bold and mention the obvious, but he had a safety concern that was
nagging him.

“Yes, but sir – last year there were several students in Slytherin that were well aware of the
*other form* and should they come to this office for any reason…” he stammered.

“Hmmm, well perhaps you have a point. Possibly this terrarium would look better in another
place. I think I’ll try it in my private quarters. Now, let’s get back to your lesson shall we.
Please lie down on the floor and start concentrating on that fateful evening. Let your anger flow
through you. Channel that anger.”

Harry lay perfectly still on the hard tile floor and started to picture the night that had
haunted his nightmares. He could smell the air heavy with oppressive fumes from the simmering
cauldron. He saw clearly in his mind’s eye the murder of Cedric and he heard the sickening thud as
his body fell to the ground. Harry’s anger started to well up in him. Then he remembered how
Wormtail, that pathetic excuse for a man who had betrayed Harry’s parents tied him up to a
tombstone. He allowed his anger and resentment to build against this traitorous man. A man whose
life Harry had spared out of pity. He began to fume. The memory of Wormtail lifting Harry’s sleeve
to forcibly take his blood caused the scar on his arm to burn.

“Use the anger and concentrate on your snake form.”

Harry held his legs together tightly and focused his mind like a laser on his anger and the
snake image. He felt a fusion starting to occur, his legs were turning into a tail.

“Excellent, Harry. Now picture the creature rising out of the cauldron.”

He turned his mind’s eye to the horrific image of Voldemort rising with his snake-like head and
spider-like hands. The revulsion started to make the contents of his stomach turn sour. The
emotions washing over Harry were anger, rage, fury and bone-chilling fear. He had not allowed
himself to fully feel those emotions that night because he was trying desperately to keep his wits
about him and had actively suppressed those emotions at the time. Even in his dreams, he had never
allowed himself to feel his emotions fully. Now he felt like he was riding a roller coaster that
was out of control.

“Focus Harry. Focus on your arms. Have them meld to your body.”

He followed Dumbledore’s orders and felt his arms and torso become one solid piece. He started
to feel the urge to move and began to struggle with the movement and trying to remember how to move
forward.

“Excellent. Excellent work. Now breathe in – relax your mind and bring yourself back here – back
to my office. Back to September 2nd – the start of a new school year.”

Harry listened and left all his thoughts of snakes and the cemetery behind. He started to think
of Hedwig, Hermione, Ron and Gryffindor Tower. He then found himself blinking at his surroundings.
He had been so consumed with his thoughts about the night Voldemort had returned that he had kept
his eyes closed and had forgotten where he was. Harry shook his head groggily and began kneeling in
his belaboured effort to stand.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Dumbledore gestured to a chair and began filling a cup with tea.
“Here drink this.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry with grave seriousness in his eyes.

“Harry, is that the first time you allowed yourself to feel those emotions from that night?”

“Yes,” Harry mumbled.

“Well,” Dumbledore sighed. “It is good to examine and understand your emotions. It is an
important part of yourself and you need to harness your feelings. However, I must warn you to not
let them control you or allow it to become an obsession. Vengeance consumes the person seeking it
and it has the power to destroy not only the target of the hatred, but the person bent on revenge.
I wanted you to feel the power within you and channel it for your own use. Now that you’ve examined
those feelings, please try to think of them only when you need to access them for your powers. Do
you understand this?
“I think so,” he said as he sipped the tea. It filled him with warmth and he was beginning to feel
human again.

“Good, well I think that’s all that I could expect from you today. I expect at this rate that by
the end of your detentions that you should be able to change at will back and forth from human to
snake with no trouble. You do realize that this is something that takes most wizards and witches
years of practice to even get to the level that you’ve managed in roughly a month’s time.”

*

Monday morning Harry was eagerly eating his breakfast in anticipation of starting a new year of
classes. Hermione groaned as she scanned the front page of *The Daily Prophet.*

“Oh no, not again.”

“What is it?” Harry said with dread.

“You don’t want to read it. It’s another libelous attack on you. An unnamed source is accusing
you of killing Cedric Diggory in order to get Cho Chang as your girlfriend.”

Harry started to feel his blood boil and looked over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was eagerly
reading the same paper and chuckling with his friends. Harry got up and started to walk over to
Malfoy. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do, but he knew he couldn’t let this go
unanswered. He had almost gotten there when Professor Figg strode angrily past him.

SMACK!

The paper had been slammed down on the table in front of Malfoy and she stood staring down at
him.

“Would you please care to tell me how *The Daily Prophet* came to print an article using
the very language that you used on the Hogwarts Express?” Professor Figg demanded.

Everyone in the Great Hall stopped eating their breakfast and focused their attention on the new
teacher.

“H-How should I know?” Malfoy said nervously as he looked around the room.

“So you think it was just a happy coincidence they chose to make the same insinuation you did?
And how did they come to find out that Cho Chang and Harry were in the same compartment on the
train ride? Or what his punishment was for hexing you and your friends? Someone from *this
school* initiated contact with that newspaper with the sole purpose of defaming Harry Potter. I
would like to know if you had anything to do with this.”

“Many people saw them together and voices carry on the Hogwarts Express. Perhaps someone else
heard me and came to the same conclusion that I did,” he drawled.

“Well then, for not answering a direct question from a faculty member I shall deduct ten points
from Slytherin.”

Malfoy looked at her and seemed emboldened.

“Professor Figg, I delivered your regards to my father. He was rather surprised to hear that you
were going to be teaching here. He said you seemed to have dropped off the face of the Wizarding
World some fourteen years ago. It was thought that you had renounced magic and were living amongst
the Muggles. He also wondered what your qualifications were to teach here,” Malfoy said with a lilt
of contempt in his voice.

“That earns you another ten points penalty Mr. Malfoy. That’s for not asking me a direct
question but instead trying to veil an insinuation as a comment from your father. That type of
disrespect will not be tolerated.”

Snape entered the room and saw everyone staring at Draco Malfoy and Professor Figg. He quickly
made his way over to stand behind Malfoy.

“Is there a problem here?”

“Yes, there is. Your newest prefect seems to have a problem showing the proper respect for
faculty members. He refused to answer a direct question and then rather than ask me a question, he
made an insinuation regarding my character and qualifications. So far he’s lost Slytherin twenty
points.”

Snape looked at Malfoy and then cast a withering glance at Harry. Even though his name wasn’t
mentioned, Snape knew that this disagreement had something to do with Harry Potter. As Snape’s eyes
locked with his, Harry began to feel very self-conscious. He wanted to be anywhere except four feet
away from the Slytherin table. He would have left except for the minor fact that his legs wouldn’t
move. His feet seemed to have been cemented to the floor.

Draco muttered something under his breath.

“What’s that you said?” Professor Figg snapped. “That’s another ten points! I will not tolerate
inter-house prejudice. And for the record Mr. Malfoy, I was in Ravenclaw. Each house has a long and
noble tradition as well as their own share of embarrassing alumni. Every house and every student
here is deserving of respect. Comments like that are beneath the dignity of Hogwarts. And because
this type of behaviour is unacceptable from any student and especially reprehensible for prefects,
you shall serve a detention for this. I shall leave that for you to arrange Professor Snape, since
you are his head of house.”

“Come with me Draco, before you lose Slytherin any more points,” Snape said coolly.

Snape looked at Professor Figg as if he were sizing her up. Then he placed his hand on Draco’s
back as he guided him from the room.

“Oh and Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Figg called to him. “I’ll see you this morning in class. Don’t be
late.”

She looked around and saw that the entire hall was staring at her.

Pansy Parkinson raised her hand cautiously.

“Professor Figg?” she asked.

“Yes? And your name is?”

“Pansy Parkinson.”

“Yes, Miss Parkinson what is it?”

“Professor, what *did* you do for the last fourteen years?” she asked nervously.

“I worked providing security for a private client,” Professor Figg replied matter-of-factly.

“Were you in the Muggle world?” Pansy asked.

“Any information regarding my client or their location would be a breach of confidentiality. As
for my qualifications to teach here, the headmaster is well aware of my talents and experience. It
was based on that knowledge that he recruited me for this position. I would like to thank you for
asking me politely Miss Parkinson.”

Professor Figg then looked around the room again. “Does anyone else have any questions for
me?”

Heads were shaking all around.

“Well then, let’s get back to breakfast. Your first class is in twenty minutes,” she said as she
turned and walked back to the head table.

Harry started getting the feeling back in his legs and began to move toward the Gryffindor
table. Cho Chang stood up and looked directly at Harry.

She tossed her hair and said, “Hey, Harry.”

Harry blinked, “Umm, hi.”

“I want to make an announcement for the whole school to hear,” Cho stated loudly. “The report in
this morning’s paper is false and I don’t want anyone believing a word of it. I had asked to speak
with Harry on the train because I had some questions for him regarding what happened to Cedric. He
was honest and direct with me. He had nothing to do with Cedric’s death and anyone who says
otherwise is just slandering an upstanding young man and defiling the memory of Cedric.
Furthermore, Harry has always been a perfect gentleman towards me. I wanted everyone to know that I
categorically reject the content of that article. That’s all.”

Cho then sat down and her friends immediately started to lean forward with their questions for
her. Harry felt stunned. He stumbled back to his seat, but no longer felt like eating anything.

Ron gave a low whistle. “Wow. So what do you think is going to happen at lunch?”

The table burst out in nervous laughter.

“Professor Figg looks like one tough lady,” said Dean appreciatively.

“Yeah, well you have to be when you’re fighting against dark wizards,” said Harry.

Hermione was looking at her schedule.

“We don’t have her until Friday afternoon,” she said disappointedly.

“Yeah, but Malfoy’s got her first thing this morning. I’d love to have a ticket to see that,”
said Ron. “Maybe he’ll wind up getting a round fifty points taken away today.”

“Well, we’d better hurry up or we’ll be late for Transfiguration and I don’t want to start the
year off on a bad foot with Professor McGonagall,” said Hermione as she shoveled some food in her
mouth.

*

Harry’s first week back in classes seemed rather uneventful. Even Potions class was bearable. It
seemed that Snape, Malfoy and Harry had come to a silent understanding to try and ignore one
another. The students in school did seem to give Harry a wide berth and cast nervous glances when
they saw him walking in the halls or on the stairs.

Hagrid was glad to see Harry and pulled him to the side during their first Care of Magical
Creatures class.

“You holdin’ up all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said.

“’Cause I was right mad about all the garbage printed ‘bout you in the papers this summer. I
woulda gone and knocked some heads together, ‘sceptin’ I had to go and do a job fer
Dumbledore.”

“How did that go?” Harry said under his breath.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but strictly between you ‘n’ me…they’re gonna stay neutral for
now. Oh and I’ve got summat fer ya, stop by later and I’ll give it to ya. Sorry I missed yer
birthday, but I couldn’t really send ya anything where I was at.”

Harry nodded and rejoined his classmates in looking at a Kneazle that Hagrid had brought in for
the class. They were cat-like creatures that had the ability to recognize untrustworthy characters.
He noticed that the one Hagrid was using for his demonstration had the same markings as one of
Professor Figg’s cats. The difference was that looked like it had a lion’s tail.

“And remember class, if you have a Kneazle that Muggles might see, you’ll need ta perform a
disillusionment charm regularly so that it ‘ppears to be a normal cat.”

*

On Friday, Harry was glad to finally have his first Defence Against the Dark Arts class with
Professor Figg. He felt it was like having a class with an old friend. Something he knew he could
never in a million years feel with Snape. This year they would share the class with Ravenclaw.
After Monday’s incident with Malfoy, the entire school seemed to be buzzing about the newest
professor. It seemed that everyone except for the Slytherins was impressed by her. Many of the
girls started to imitate her new hairstyle by wearing their hair in a single braid down their
back.

Professor Figg had been waiting inside her inner office until it was time for the class to
start. When she closed the door behind her, she looked slowly around the room and made eye contact
with each and every student. She repeated this during the first roll call asking certain students
about the welfare of their parents.

She paused over Neville Longbottom’s name. “Neville, how is your grandmother?”

“Fine.”

“Good, give her my regards.”

After these formalities, Professor Figg sat on the front of her desk and spoke quietly.

“This year will be a very different year for everyone at Hogwarts. In the past you’ve learned
about dark creatures such as boggarts, kappas, grindylows. This year we will be focusing on far
more dangerous dark forces, specifically evil witches and wizards. We will be discussing how best
to respond when targeted by Voldemort’s forces. Choosing what is right over what is easy.

“This will demand that everyone undergo a painful self-examination. Your essays for this class
will not require much outside reading or research, but instead will require an understanding of
yourself and your own weaknesses. Other classes have indicated that Professor Binns has not
discussed any of the history related to Voldemort’s Reign of Terror.”

Hermione shook her head vehemently.

“Well, I was involved in the opposition to Voldemort,” Professor Figg continued. “His forces
were always outnumbered by those who refused to join the Dark Side. However, his clandestine
organization wielded a lot of power by their terrorist acts and culture of secrecy. They also had a
network of covert supporters who either tacitly approved or allowed the excesses to occur. There
were other people that were forced by Voldemort to do horrific things. Some were coerced by the
Imperius curse. Others were blackmailed or threatened with death to themselves or their loved ones.
Those who were coerced into supporting his evil deeds were never considered to be loyal. They were
thought of as important, but unreliable. They might carry out horrible tortures and murders when
they were compelled to act, but they could not be counted on for their fealty.

“The last group of supporters were his inner circle. His Death Eaters. Those who took an oath of
loyalty and were steadfast in their support. They had to demonstrate their loyalty to him before
their initiation. Afterwards, any order, no matter how gruesome had to be carried out. In trying to
recruit these loyal followers the most effective method is to find those most likely to be
receptive to your message. Can anyone think who might be tempted to join the Death Eaters?”

Ron Weasley raised his hand. “Children of Death Eaters?” he offered.

“Yes, legacies are commonly recruited. Especially if their families have tried to groom their
children to follow their path. However, they can be like all children and are not always interested
in following a prescribed role for them. If they reject the overtures to join – they may be in
great danger. And when it comes to risk management, should they decide to turn over information
they’ve gathered over the years – it could be very damaging. There are many examples of parents and
children who have chosen different sides. Many children have turned bad whose parents were actively
fighting Voldemort. So you can’t always predict what the type of fruit a tree will bear. Who
else?”

Seamus Finnigan raised his hand. “How about people who are bent on revenge? That’s what the IRA
and the Ulster Unionists use to recruit new members.”

“Yes, revenge is a powerful motivation. That is something to bear in mind. You don’t want to
drive someone into Voldemort’s arms because they want to hurt you,” she said and looked directly at
Harry.

He bristled at that. Harry thought that Draco Malfoy was destined to become a Death Eater due to
being an evil git and following his father’s lead. It wouldn’t make any difference as to whether or
not Harry hexed Draco.

“Another group that is vulnerable are those who are isolated and alone,” she continued.

Neville Longbottom looked up startled.

“Part of the appeal of gangs, organized crime syndicates and terrorist organizations is the
sense of belonging that their members feel. A sense of purpose. *A sense of family.* Once you
become entrenched you can never leave. Not without the risk of death.”

Harry swallowed hard as he thought of Snape. Was he really someone Dumbledore could trust? He
wondered and thought that if Snape truly had left Voldemort that he would also prove to be a target
for being murdered. Harry and Snape were probably number one and number two on the list of people
Voldemort wanted killed. He shook his head and willed that thought to leave his mind.

“I will be assigning you three essays for the next three weeks,” Professor Figg continued. “You
can do them in any order. One essay will be on what kinds of temptations could be used to try and
lure you to the Dark Side. Things such as promises of power, prestige, advancement in your career –
possibly even revenge. I want you to imagine a scenario in which you are being actively tempted and
promised what you covet. How would you respond? The second essay will center on those areas of your
life that would yield your vulnerabilities. Family, loved ones, friends. Who would you try to
shield from harm? Who in your life would you sacrifice anything to protect? Then I want you to
detail how their safety could be threatened in a way that would make you give in to their
demands.”

Harry looked around the room and noticed that many of the students were shifting in their seats
uncomfortably.

“The third essay will be in examining if there is anything you’ve done in your life or in your
family’s history that might work as ammunition for blackmail. Is there anything that might come
back to haunt you? I want to stress the importance of privacy to be placed on these essays. This is
not a simple composition paper in which you can ask your friends for help on. I want you to be
honest and forthright in your own vulnerabilities. Work alone on these essays and do not show them
to anyone.”

Lisa Turpin raised her hand.

“How do we know that we can trust you with this sensitive information?”

Professor Figg smiled at her. “*That is a good question*. And to be honest – you don’t
know. All I can do is tell you that I fought against Voldemort and that Headmaster Dumbledore
trusts me with this job. We discussed how best to prepare everyone for the coming battles and we
came to an agreement on my lesson plans. That included these essays. Okay, enough of me talking. If
you were Voldemort and wanted to recruit spies to help your side, who would you target?”

A few hands were raised.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley.”

“People in the Ministry of Magic. Especially those who are Aurors or those involved in
prosecutions,” Ron suggested.

“Excellent. You should also remember that junior employees at the Ministry are prime targets.
They are thought of as being easily tempted by promises of rapid advancement. Anyone else?”
Professor Figg asked.

“I have a question,” said Hermione. “If the Ministry is so vulnerable to infiltration with
spies, do they try and protect against it by using Veritaserum on its agents?”

Professor Figg gave a knowing smile. “Veritaserum at the Ministry? That might prove useful, but
I daresay it wouldn’t be very popular. There would be many there that would actively resist it, if
only for political reasons and their interdepartmental squabbles. I don’t see that as happening
unless a major scandal erupted at the Ministry. We would also have to have a new Minister of Magic
before that would ever happen.”

Professor Figg lectured a little longer about recruitment by the Dark Side and by the time class
was dismissed there was a notable doom felt by the class. She also gave a standard warning about
keeping track of their hair and nail clippings. Harry knew that the other students were only now
beginning to feel some of the worries that he had become accustomed to for several years.

As the students filed out of class for the day, Neville was hanging back.
“Professor Figg? Could I talk with you?” he asked.

She smiled kindly and directed him to her office.

“Mr. Potter,” she called out. “Could you please ask one of the house-elves to bring us some
dinners here?”

He nodded and quickly caught up with Ron and Hermione. Harry was deep in thought about Neville.
Isolated and alone. Those words described Neville Longbottom. He had never really made any close
friends in Gryffindor and Harry felt somewhat to blame for that. Harry had never really made any
attempts to befriend Neville and neither had Ron, Seamus or Dean it seemed. Neville seemed to be
alone in a room full of boys.

Harry vowed that tonight after Neville came back to Gryffindor tower that he would reach out a
hand in friendship and try to help him. After all, Harry could still recall the pain of not having
any friends because his cousin Dudley had intimidated everyone around him.

*

End notes: End notes. I wanted to thank those who have taken the time to leave a review. Thank
you to jessi, katrina, KHALIL, kinicky21, and soccerpunx. And to answer the question from
soccerpunx, no I’m not writing a sequel to this story. I actually have to work on the research
portion for my own original story. I have some ideas and have started a plot outline, but still
have a long way to go to make it become a story that someone else can read just yet.

Coming soon: Chapter Six – Memories and Jealousy. Neville has a long talk with Professor Figg
and Viktor Krum comes back into the story.



6. Memories and Jealousy
------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s Note: Thanks again to Cara Hicks and Ama for beta reading my work.

Rating: R for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Six – Memories and Jealousy

Professor Figg sat down in her office and asked Neville to tell her what was troubling him.

“What you said in class today…I don’t want to be a Death Eater,” he choked. “You said they went
after those who were loners. I don’t have any close friends.”

She patted his hand and said with a soothing voice, “Just because you fit one of the
characteristics doesn’t mean that you will automatically go bad. Neville, I know that you are a
decent kid at heart. I’m not worried about your ability to stand up for yourself.”

“But, I can’t…I can’t even stand up to Malfoy!”

“Nonsense, there are more ways to stand up for your principles than simply by getting into a
street brawl. That is what my class will help you with. Ways to cope and to deal with temptation
and threats. Everyone is at risk, whether they are vastly popular or painfully shy.”

She poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. “I wanted to tell you that I knew your father
well. He saved my life and for that I’ll be eternally grateful to him.”

Neville looked up at her with wide eyes.

“I’ve talked with other professors about your abilities and I’m concerned about you. I’m worried
that your magical powers are not being channeled and focused properly. I don’t think you realize
just how powerful you are, or could be. The problem is that your magic is simply uncontrolled. It
reminds me of the side effects of a badly cast memory charm. Tell me, what is your date of
birth?”

“January 12, 1980.”

“And your parents were attacked in July of 1982?”

He nodded.

“Then you would have been two and a half years old when it happened?”

“Yes.”

“Were you at home at the time?” she asked.

“That’s what they tell me,” he said quietly.

“So you don’t remember anything of that night?”

He shook his head sadly.

“Neville, there are ways to overcome memory charms. Some methods are intrusive and harmful,
while others are not. Part of being able to overcome one is the knowledge that a memory charm has
been placed and knowing what the memories are that are being blocked. We can use gentle methods
such as hypnosis to try and unlock portions of the hidden memories and then we can work slowly
towards restoring your full memory. Other methods are more painful…anger, extreme anger can cause a
memory charm to be broken. It will cause a flood of memories. It’s the quickest, but it is also
very painful. Another method is torture, but that would destroy your mind.”

Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” Professor Figg called out.

Dobby the house-elf opened the door quietly. “Here’s the dinners you asked for.”

“Thank you very much and please set the trays on my desk.”

Dobby set down the trays of food and slowly backed out of the room.

“And what is your name?” Professor Figg asked the house-elf.

“Dobby.”

“I’m Professor Figg. It’s good to meet you. Thank you for bringing the food, Dobby,” she said
with a smile.

“Professor Figg is most welcome,” Dobby said as he left the room beaming.

Professor Figg placed a napkin on her lap and was about to start eating, but said, “Neville, I
can try to help you recover those memories and possibly help your parents if you’d like to
try.”

“Help my parents?”

“Yes, there are many who think that a curse was placed on them after they were attacked. Except
that no one has found a counter curse that works. If we can recover your memory of that night, you
may be able to help us release them from their mental prison.”

Neville sat and tried to absorb all that information. He slowly chewed on a pork chop.

*

Harry Potter sat playing wizard chess with Ron in the Gryffindor common room. He was also
rehearsing in his head what he wanted to say to Neville. This didn’t help his chess game and he
lost several games in quick succession. Dean and Seamus were in a corner playing a rousing game of
Exploding Snap with Fred and George. As Neville entered through the portrait hole, Harry looked up
at him. Neville looked drained and he simply walked up to the dormitories without even attempting
to say hello to anyone. Harry deliberately threw the game by putting his queen and rook in danger.
Within five moves Ron had won the game.

“Your game is really off tonight,” Ron said.

“Yeah, I think I’ll just call it a night,” Harry said. “Hey Hermione, you want to play chess
with Ron?”

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading and smiled.

“Sure. It’ll give me a chance to try out some of the strategies I read this summer in a book by
Bobby Fischer.”

“Who’s Bobby Fischer?” Ron asked dumbly.

“Oh, just some Muggle chess player,” she said smugly.

Harry walked up the stairway and was thinking carefully about how he wanted to approach Neville.
He entered their dormitory and he saw Neville absentmindedly folding clothes deep in thought.

“Hey Neville, how are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Okay,” he said dully.

“No, really. I’m worried about you. Professor Figg’s lesson seemed to disturb you,” Harry
pressed.

“Well, yeah it disturbed me. I’m all alone. No one likes me. I’m not like you. You’ve got
friends. You’re popular. You’re the famous Harry Potter. I’m just Poor Old Neville,” he said
gloomily.

Harry took a deep breath. *Now comes the hard part*, he thought. “Neville, I’ve never asked
you this before, but why did your grandmother raise you? What happened to your parents? Were they
killed like mine were?”

Neville looked at him with sorrowful eyes and shook his head. “No. They’re alive. They’re
just…not really living,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asked innocently.

“My father used to be an Auror. About nine months after your parents died and You-Know-Who fell,
some of his supporters thought that my father knew of his whereabouts. So they came to our house
and tried to torture the information out of my dad. They also tortured my mum. They used the
Cruciatus curse on them. It drove Mum and Dad insane. My parents have been in St. Mungo’s ever
since, just staring at the walls.”

“I’m sorry Neville,” Harry said as he sat on the foot of his bed. “Were you there when it
happened?”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“You don’t remember *anything*?”

“No, I don’t,” he said sounding a bit annoyed. “I don’t even remember anything about my parents
before they – before that.”

“What *do* you remember from childhood?”

“My gran always yelling at me to stop being stupid and forgetful. She tries to get me to
remember things, but I just can’t. I don’t know why I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid Neville,” Harry said softly and earnestly. “You saw something terrible and
you probably just don’t want to relive that horror. Anything that reminds you of that feeling
probably shuts everything down for you.”

“Harry, do you remember anything from the night your parents were killed?”

He nodded. “At first it was just a few snatches of things. A blinding green light and a
high-pitched laugh. Later…when I was near dementors, I would hear my mum and dad’s voices – what
they said right before they died. I also heard Voldemort.”

Neville shuddered. “I don’t think I’d want that.”

“I know, but on one level I actually got to hear my parents. I never knew them growing up. My
aunt and uncle never even talked about them or showed me any pictures of what they looked like. At
least you have a family that will tell you things about your parents,” Harry said.

“Yeah.”

“Besides, Neville. You’re not a bad wizard. You just have trouble focusing your power.”

Neville looked puzzled. “But Harry, I’m not any good,” he insisted.

“You transferred your ears to a cactus! I couldn’t do that if I tried. Imagine if you could
deliberately do that to Malfoy,” Harry said.

Neville gave a crooked smile.

“Yeah and melting all those cauldrons,” Harry continued. “That’s because you were mad at Snape.
Some of my most powerful magic pre-Hogwarts is when I was really angry. You just need to harness
that energy of yours. It may all be tied to your inability to remember and cope with what you saw
happen to your parents.”

“That’s what Professor Figg said. She offered to help me with my memory.”

“Good. I think that’ll help.”

“Harry, please don’t tell *anyone* about this,” Neville pleaded.

“Sure, Neville. I know how tough it is to grow up without parents.”

*

When Harry arrived for his second detention in Dumbledore’s office he was surprised to see
Professor Figg inside waiting for him.

“Hello Harry, I wanted to tell you that I will be going back to Little Whinging to take care of
a problem. I wanted to offer to bring a letter to Sirius if you wanted to write one.”

“Sure. Did you want me to write it now?”

“I’m not sure exactly when I’ll be going. I’m still pondering of how best to deal with the
situation. It’s Nadine,” she muttered. “It seems that she’s stepped up her stalking of Sirius now
that she knows he’s in the house alone. It also appears that she’s gotten over her fear of
snakes.”

Dumbledore looked at her puzzled.

“We had Harry transfigured outside one day when we knew she’d be coming by,” she said
sheepishly.

“Ah, that explains it,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Anyway, since I left she’s been trying to get inside my house on an almost daily basis. Her
excuses are getting lamer each day. And yesterday she deliberately fell on him,” she said
disgustedly.

Harry could visualize the buxom bottle blonde trying desperately to get her body to connect with
Sirius. He shook his head quickly to get that image out of his mind.

“Can’t you make some kind of Muggle repellent?” Harry asked.

“No, we need to make sure that Muggles, especially the mailman can come near the house.
Otherwise it’ll be too suspicious,” she replied.

“How about just a Nadine repellent then?” he asked.

Professor Figg raised one eyebrow and then smiled. “Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t think
of that. It’ll take me a few days to get everything together. I’ll tell Sirius a few ideas to keep
her in check until next weekend. So if you want to give me a letter to him, just tuck it inside the
scroll you’ll be handing in next Friday. Then when I do go back, I’ll only need one more ingredient
– some of her hair.”

“How are you going to get that?” Harry asked.

“The old-fashioned way,” she said grinning. “I’m going to yank it off her head.”

“Well I’m glad Harry was able to come up with a solution to your problem,” Dumbledore said
rubbing his hands together. “Let’s start the lesson shall we?”

“I brought something to help out,” Professor Figg said as she showed the catnip mouse. “We can
use this as a signal. When Professor Dumbledore thinks you should change back he can wiggle the
mouse. Otherwise, if you are having trouble and want us to help you resume your human form you can
go and bite it.”

The lesson this time progressed much faster. With both professors there making suggestions,
Harry was able to manage the full change to his Animagus form for the first time. It took him
almost fifteen minutes to achieve the full transformation and was only able to sustain it for a
minute or so. However, that was enough to earn him high praise from both Dumbledore and Figg. Harry
left his detention that day feeling very excited about his own abilities.

*

The next day Harry could hardly contain himself. They were going to start the Quidditch tryouts
for the Gryffindor team. He was excited to be able to fly on his broomstick for the first time in
months. It felt more like years. Being a part of the Triwizard tournament had been exciting, but
Harry had deeply missed not playing Quidditch the previous year. He was a natural born flyer, so
Harry wasn’t too worried about his being out of practice for over a year. However, his teammates
might not be so lucky. Plus they had to replace Oliver Wood as Keeper. Harry’s only consolation was
that all the teams were in the same boat. All of them would have lost at least one player to
graduation and the returning players would all be rusty.

Harry couldn’t wait until ten o’clock rolled around for then it would be time to show up at the
Quidditch pitch. When he arrived broomstick in hand in the locker room he found that the rest of
the team was already there.

“Am I late?” he asked.

“Nope, you’re right on time,” said Angelina. “We actually met here at 9:30 and told you 10:00
because we wanted to talk about you without you being here.”

“Huh?”

“Well, see Harry, we talked about it and we all agreed – ,” Fred began.

“—that it would be best to have a captain for our team that inspires fear in the rest of the
student body. So congratulations Harry! You’re our new captain,” said George.

Harry’s mouth hung open as he was clapped on the back by his teammates.

“But I don’t know the first thing about what’s involved,” he stammered.

“Modest isn’t he,” Fred interjected. “I’m sure that after battling with a dragon and such, that
helping to devise a game winning strategy should be a piece of cake.”

“The first thing we need to do is to meet our potential team mates,” Angelina stated. “Let’s go
outside!”

When they all walked outside to the Quidditch pitch they found ten students ready and waiting.
Harry wasn’t sure where to begin, but he thought a sign up sheet with their desired position seemed
like a good starting point. As the morning wore on it was soon apparent that there were many
talented players and only the one opening for Keeper. The current team members still outperformed
the recruits so their positions were safe. Harry started to feel uncomfortable in having to turn
down nine people.

“Harry, is there a practice team?” asked Dean.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well, on any basketball team you have enough players so that there are in effect two teams.
That way the first-string team can practice against opponents and sharpen their skills. It also
serves as a way to train players when there are openings either due to injury or graduation.”

“That’s a good idea Dean,” Harry said. “I had always kind of wondered why our team didn’t have
any reserve players. But a full complement of reserve teammates would be helpful in grooming next
year’s team.”

Harry then started rethinking how to choose team members. Now he would have eight positions
open. The next day they’d have try outs immediately after dinner before it was too dark to see
anything. Playing in darkness with Bludgers could be quite dangerous and was not something anyone
wanted to do.

Dean had grown up in a family of sports fanatics. He was a fan of football, hockey, basketball
and other sports. He had seen many parallels between those sports and Quidditch. He had never
played Quidditch before, but had played football and basketball for years. He was good at
goaltending and was a decent rebounder. His excitement at playing a new sport was tempered with his
awkwardness at flying. He hadn’t had much experience with that skill beyond the few flying lessons
that Madam Hooch gave them during their first year.

When Dean started talking about how certain strategies from these Muggle sports might be adapted
to Quidditch, Harry got really excited. Most of the players on the other teams had all grown up in
wizarding families or were like Seamus being half Muggle, half Wizard. Therefore, they might not
have ever really been exposed to other sports. For the next few days every time Harry and Dean saw
each other outside of Gryffindor Tower they spoke in hushed tones about those different games and
how they were played. Dean agreed to contact his parents to get Muggle books about the strategies
in football, basketball and hockey. They thought it might provide a secret weapon to give their
team a competitive edge.

Both Ron and Dean were competing for the position of Keeper. This led to Ron becoming a little
irritated that Harry seemed to be spending much more time talking with Dean than with him. Ron was
afraid that Dean was trying to ingratiate himself with Harry in order to get the prized spot. But
after Dean started explaining to Ron the comparisons of Quidditch with the other sports, he started
to understand Harry’s interest.

Dean’s experience as a goaltender proved to be very helpful in responding to the shots taken by
the Chasers. However, he was a bit unsteady on his broomstick and made several errors that an
experienced flyer wouldn’t have. Ron on the other hand was much better at flying, but lacked some
of the instinct that Dean had in knowing exactly where the Chasers were going to throw the
Quaffle.

Harry felt torn between choosing his best friend for the first string team and someone who he
thought might prove to be more talented with a little more flying experience. After much
deliberation, Harry decided that neither one of them would be named for the first string. Instead,
they’d have to continually prove themselves in practice and the one with the best goals against
average would suit up for the upcoming game. Ron at first was a bit put off by this, but he came
around after realizing that all three of them had to live together in the same dorm room for the
next three years. It was best to come to some kind of accommodation so that no one felt
resentful.

Seamus, Natalie McDonald and Ginny became the reserve Chasers, Dennis and Colin Greevey were
named the reserve Beaters. Unfortunately no one showed any talent in being a Seeker. There were
several who tried but they were never able to catch the Golden Snitch without causing accidents to
themselves and to the other players. Rather than risk the safety of the team, Harry decided against
trying to train a reserve Seeker this year.

Harry felt relieved once the tryouts were over. It was tough trying to squeeze in all the
reading and homework he had for his classes in the few remaining hours after Quidditch tryouts.
Once the other teams had their team trials they would have regular rotations as to who had time to
practice on the Quidditch pitch. That usually meant that on weekends that all the teams could have
the field for two hours each day. Unfortunately for the entire month of September, Harry was stuck
in Dumbledore’s office every Saturday.

*

This year on Hermione’s birthday, Harry felt a little nervous about giving her his present.
Perhaps it was because this time he actually put some thought into what gift to get her. That night
when they returned to the Gryffindor common room after dinner, Harry reached into his pocket and
took out the package he had been carrying around all day long.

“Here Hermione, Happy Birthday!”

She took the long skinny box and smiled at him.

“That looks like… jewellery!” squealed Parvati.

“Oooh, what is it?” Lavender asked excitedly as they crowded around.

Hermione finished unwrapping the box and removed the lid. She carefully lifted the necklace from
the cotton batting.

“Oh Harry, this is beautiful. Thank you,” she said as she gave him a crushing hug. He had the
letter H engraved on the outside of the gold locket. On the inside there was a place for two small
pictures.

“That’s beautiful,” said Parvati and Lavender in unison.

“Help me put it on, Harry,” said Hermione.

She lifted her hair and arched her neck begging for him to fasten the necklace. He fumbled with
the clasp for a few times and finally got it to work. She then held the locket in her hand and
smiled at Harry.

“Thank you so much. I love it.”

“You’re welcome. I really like the watch you gave me and I wanted to get you something nice,
instead of the lame gifts I’ve gotten you in the past,” he said blushing.

“Hermione, here’s my gift. Happy Birthday,” said Ron.

She opened his wrapped gift to find a couple boxes of chocolate frogs and Fizzing Whizbees.

“I know, it’s kind of lame, but…”

“Thank you, Ron. One can never have too much chocolate.”

“So, umm, what did Vicky get you?”

“Ron! His name is Viktor,” she snapped at him. Then she became quiet. “He gave me a ring.”

She brought out her right hand and Harry noticed for the first time that she was wearing a star
sapphire ring.

“Wow, he must really like you,” said Harry.

“I guess,” she replied with her eyes downcast. “I’ve got something I have to do. I’ll meet you
two in the library in about half an hour.”

And with that she walked up to the girl’s dormitory leaving Harry and Ron shaking their heads
and wondering what was going on with her.

*

The next few weeks it seemed that all the older students were writing scrolls worth of parchment
in secret. Whenever someone would walk near them, the papers would be turned over or covered up.
People were muttering non-stop about having to turn in such assignments. Even after all the
complaining amongst the students, no one had the nerve to criticize the lesson plan to Professor
Figg. Perhaps it was the vivid public example of her temper to students who didn’t show proper
respect towards the faculty, but no one dared breathe a word of criticism to her directly. One
Ravenclaw student did ask what would happen to the scrolls after she read them.

“They will be held securely in Professor Dumbledore’s office after I have graded them. I shall
write some cryptic comments to each student on a scroll and return that to you, but your original
essays will be charmed so that only the Headmaster will be able to read them. Therefore, you
needn’t worry that it would ever fall into the possession of any Dark Wizards.”

Harry thought that was a shrewd move by Dumbledore to have such documentation on hand to try and
protect his students and also for opposition research if necessary. He sat up many nights with Ron
discussing what they thought Malfoy’s essays would contain. They wondered if he would actually dig
deep and potentially expose some of his father’s crimes or if he’d merely try to skim the surface
and skate by without really telling anything.

Harry found the essays difficult to write, but it wasn’t because he hadn’t thought about those
scenarios before. It seemed that since the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, he’d done
nothing but try to take his mind off the ever-present threat to his safety and those that he cared
about. He knew that the first essay, the one on temptation really didn’t apply to him. There was
nothing that could tempt him to join Voldemort’s side. The second essay about protecting those he
cared about did concern him. He was worried about the safety of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Cho and
Sirius. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they were ever threatened with bodily harm. The third
essay was the hardest for him to write. This one concerned having ammunition for blackmail. Harry
knew that for him it all dealt with his relationship with Sirius. He was especially nervous of
writing that essay in case it might fall out of his book bag before turning it in. So he wrote it
hurriedly the night before so that it had less of a chance getting lost or stolen.

*

Toward the end of October the first Hogsmeade weekend was announced. Harry spoke with Professor
Figg about this and she that said he could go, but that she’d have to be nearby. She’d either wear
his Invisibility Cloak or use her Animagus form so as not to bring too much attention to Harry
having a bodyguard. Harry didn’t think too much of having a cat follow him everywhere so he
promised to lend her the cloak ahead of time.

Ron and Harry had been talking quietly in the library about the shops they planned to visit in
Hogsmeade when Hermione showed up later as had become her custom.

“Er, hi Hermione,” Harry blinked.

“Umm, Hermione,” Ron sniffed, “where do you go after dinner? You’re not still working on SPEW
are you?”

She angrily licked her lips at him. “Well, you should know by now it is S.P.E.W. and yes, I am
still concerned regarding the welfare of house-elves.”

“Why don’t you just give it up?”

“*Just give it up?*” she said with her eyes flashing angrily. “Ron I became aware of an
injustice in the Wizarding World. I can’t just turn my back on it and chalk it up to
*tradition*. This is fundamentally wrong and it needs to be changed. Margaret Mead once said,
‘never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world…indeed it’s
the only thing that ever has.’ So Ron whether or not you support me in my efforts to free an
oppressed people, please do not dismiss my commitment to securing freedom and justice for
them.”

“*Whatever*,” he said rolling his eyes. “So, do you want to go to Zonko’s and Honeydukes
with us on Saturday?”

“I can’t,” she sighed. “Viktor’s coming and I promised I’d spend the day with him.”

“Krum’s coming?” Ron said angrily. “So just how serious *are* you two? He gives you a ring
for your birthday. You go *all the way* to Bulgaria to see him. Tell me, just how far *have
you gone* with him?”

“That is none of your business!” she said hotly. “And I resent what you are implying. Yes, I
went to Bulgaria for a few days. With. My. Parents. Do you honestly think they’d let me do anything
like what’s in your filthy mind? I spent more time in Athens than I did in Bulgaria. Climbing the
Acropolis meant more to me than seeing his hometown.”

Madam Pince cleared her throat loudly and glared at them across the room.

“What’s so important about the Acropolis?” Ron whispered.

“Greek mythology? Ever heard of it? I wanted to see the Parthenon and the Acropolis. We also
went to the city of Delphi. All those places I’d read about.”

“Delphi?”

“Oh honestly Ron, you’ve been in Divination for how many years and you don’t even know about the
Oracle of Delphi?” she shook her head in disgust and left the table.

“Where’s she going?” Ron asked.

“I think she went to get a book,” Harry answered. “You know Ron, I think you’re being a bit hard
on her.”

“She’s the one dating an international Quidditch star who went to a school known for the Dark
Arts.”

“I know, but she doesn’t look too happy about it.”

“Yeah, well she ought to break up with him then. I don’t trust him Harry. Of all the girls in
this school he could have asked out, he picked Hermione. Why?”

“He thought she was pretty?”

“Well, she’s not ugly, but there are prettier girls in this school and ones that are closer to
his age. Krum could have asked anyone. And he picked Harry Potter’s best friend. This was right
after the first task when you were tied with him. What if he wanted to get to you through her?”

“That was then, what about now?” Harry asked.

“Well, he might be following orders,” Ron suggested darkly.

Hermione returned and slapped a large book in front of Ron. “Here you are. D’Aulaires’ Book of
Greek Myths. I was surprised to see they had this copy here because I’ve read the Muggle version.
The only difference is that the illustrations are bewitched to move. Here you should check this out
before Madam Pince kicks us out.”

Ron started flipping through the pages and saw a picture of a man with five children in his
stomach and he was trying to swallow a sixth. “This is wicked. What’s it all about?”

“I’ll tell you on the way back to the dormitory.”

They picked up all their books and put them in their bags and Ron hurriedly checked out the book
before Madam Pince decided to dock them any points for repeatedly disturbing the peace in the
library.

“The picture you saw deals with the beginning of Greek Mythology. At the very beginning was
Mother Earth or Gaia. She married Uranus or the heavens and the first children she had were the
Titans. Six males and six females. All were immortal and beautiful. Then she gave birth to some
horrible monsters that Uranus found disgusting. They were Cyclops and also creatures with fifty
heads and one hundred arms.”

“Ewww,” Ron and Harry said together.

“Yeah, and Uranus thought there were so hideous that he banished them into the deepest pit on
Earth. Tartarus. Anyway, Gaia was upset by this and she went to her youngest son Cronos. She urged
him to overthrow his father. He did, but then Cronos never let his horrific siblings loose. So Gaia
was hoping that Cronos would have a child someday that would in turn overthrow *him*.”

“So that’s why he was swallowing children?” Ron asked.

“Exactly. Except that his wife became awfully tired of giving birth and never having any
children to show for it. So when she was pregnant with her sixth child, Rhea asked Gaia for advice.
She followed it and after giving birth, she put a large rock in a swaddling blanket and handed it
to Cronos. He had long since stopped looking at the newborns and he just swallowed it whole.
Meanwhile the baby was spirited off to the island of Crete where he was raised in secret. When he
was old enough, Zeus came back to fulfill his destiny.”

“Zeus, I think I’ve heard of him,” Ron said.

“I should hope so. He became the king of all the gods. However, he needed some allies. One of
the daughters of the Titans helped him. She was Metis the goddess of prudence, Zeus’s first wife.
She tricked Cronos into taking an herb that caused him to be sick. He then threw up the five
fully-grown siblings of Zeus. They all joined his side and helped overthrow Cronos.”

“So did Zeus let the monsters go free?”

“Yes, but then he imprisoned some of the Titans who didn’t join his side. Gaia was upset with
Zeus over that and gave birth to more hideous creatures, which he left for future heroes like
Heracles to conquer. Oh, by the way do you know who Minerva is by any chance?” she asked.

“Umm, our head of house?” Ron said weakly.

They had arrived at the portrait hole and gave the password (*Aut* *vincere aut mori*)
to the Fat Lady.

“Nice try,” Hermione said patronizingly. “She’s named after the Roman version of the goddess
Athena. That’s whom I named my owl after. Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom and victory. You
ought to read up on her. She was a very powerful goddess and not one to be trifled with. One time a
mortal woman claimed that she was better on the loom than Athena. The goddess tried to get the girl
to take back her rash statement. When she refused to back down Athena challenged her to a
competition to see who possessed the greater talent. Arachne made a tapestry that technically was
very good, but it ridiculed the gods and goddesses. Athena was so enraged by this sign of
disrespect that she transfigured the silly girl into a spider. That way she could spin her webs
forever. If I were you, I’d watch myself around Professor McGonagall. Or she might follow the lead
of her namesake and you might find yourself spending your days out in the Forbidden Forest with
Aragog!”

Hermione then slammed her books on a small table in the corner. She seemed to have had enough
talking with Ron and wanted to finish her homework alone. Harry just looked at his friend who was
flipping through the illustrated book and wondered how he could be so thick at times.

*

The first Hogsmeade weekend was a nice warm autumn day. There was an eager anticipation from the
Hogwarts students as they walked down the path from the castle to the village. Standing outside the
gates scanning all the faces of the students was Viktor Krum. His dour face actually brightened
when he saw Hermione.

“Herm-own-ninny!” he said as he gathered her in his arms for a hug.

“Hi Viktor,” she said quietly.

“You look bootiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Dat looks new,” he said as he picked up the locket from around her neck. “Vere did you get
zis?”

“Oh, umm, Harry gave it to me for my birthday,” she said lightly.

“I see,” Viktor said as he glared at Harry. “Come on Herm-own-ninny. I vant to take you to
Gladrags.”

Hermione gave a weak smile and waved goodbye to her friends.

Ron glowered at their retreating forms, “I don’t know why she’s still dating that guy.”

“Come on, Ron. Let’s not spend our whole day in Hogsmeade thinking about Hermione’s love life.
We should get to Honeydukes before they sell out of your favourite sweets. Otherwise we might get
stuck buying cockroach clusters.”

Later Ron and Harry were sitting at a table for four in the Three Broomsticks. Harry had bumped
into Professor Figg as she sat down in the chair at the far corner of the table. Harry started to
feel a bit sorry for her sitting there under the Invisibility Cloak and not being able to enjoy any
food or drink. He couldn’t figure out how to pass her anything without Ron seeing it. He didn’t
think it would make any difference for Ron to know that he had a personal Auror bodyguard, but he
had to respect Professor Figg’s wishes on this matter.

Hermione walked into the pub alone holding a large shopping bag and looking a bit
distracted.

“Hermione, over here!” Harry called out to her.

She snapped out of her haze, saw them and started to walk over to the table. Harry stopped her
before she tried to sit on Professor Figg’s lap.

“Er no, sit here,” he said blinking and patting the chair next to him. “Where’s Viktor?”

She licked her lips and sat down.

“Well…he had to leave. He’s got a match tonight.”

“Here let me take that for you,” he said as he took the large bag from her and put it under the
table. “What did you get?”

“Oh, umm, Viktor bought me a dress.”

“You don’t seem too happy about that,” Harry observed.

“No, it’s nice. It’s just…he was a little strange today. I’ve never seen him like that. He did
not like that you gave me a necklace. He said it was too intimate a gift for ‘just friends.’”

“But you like it?”

“Yes, of course I do!” Hermione exclaimed. “I don’t know what his problem is. He knows we’ve
been good friends for years…”

Ron sniffed, “Umm, so how come you’re still going out with this guy?”

“Because he’s always been very nice and sweet to me,” she said defensively.

“Oh yeah, you just had with a date with your boyfriend and you look like you’ve had a great
time.”

“Can we talk about something else?” she said sounding annoyed. “Where did you guys go?”

“Zonko’s is carrying some of Fred and George’s fake wands. They’re actually doing quite
well.”

“Let me get you a butterbeer. That ought to cheer you up a little,” Harry said as he stood.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said sounding relieved.

*

On Hallowe’en Harry woke up with a sick feeling in his stomach. He had begun to dread this day.
He had come to see it as a day when bad things happened. His parents had been murdered on that day.
He and Ron fought with a mountain troll in his first year. The second year marked the opening of
the Chamber of Secrets and the petrification of Mrs. Norris. His third year, Sirius Black had
attacked the Fat Lady while trying to enter the Gryffindor Tower. And last year his name came out
of the Goblet of Fire making him a Triwizard champion. He wondered if he was worried for no good
reason or whether something bad was about to happen.

Harry’s stomach was in knots, so even though the Hallowe’en feast showed an abundance of
incredible food, he couldn’t force himself to eat anything. Instead he folded up a few of the cakes
and candies into a napkin and placed them in his book bag for later.

That night as he fell asleep Harry found out that his worries were real. He had another vision
and saw Voldemort talking to the dementors at Azkaban. The wizarding prison was being
overturned.

*

End notes: I chose to start this chapter out with 3rd person Arabella Figg’s POV simply because
I have grown to dislike Harry always having to eavesdrop to move the plot along. I felt the reader
should be aware of this information, but I didn’t feel that Harry should be privy to it. So that’s
why I changed the POV. From now, on – it’s strictly 3rd person Harry Potter POV.

I’d like to thank those who are following along with my story and especially those who have
posted reviews. Thanks to catark, darkstar, kinicky21, Lil’ Angel, msscribe for your kind
words.

SamanthaMarie, I’m glad that you like Cho’s characterization. I worked hard on that and wanted
her motivations to be based on what I think would be logical. Truly, I don’t think that Harry/Cho
will happen in canon. I think there’s too much stacked against them, but I wanted to take the time
to show exactly why I don’t think it will. And you’ll have to wait a while longer for fluff,
because we still have to deal with Viktor in a likewise manner. I think my characterization of him
is something that you probably haven’t seen in other fanfics, but you’ll see…Those things have to
be dealt with before Harry and Hermione can get together, but then again – conflict does drive
drama so I don’t make things easy for anyone. I’m also glad that you’ve come to accept even if you
don’t like the serpent Animagus form. I know it’s controversial, but it is what I think it would be
logically given what JKR has already set up. I realize that Harry would hate it, but sometimes you
have to do things to protect yourself that go against your own personal wishes.

Roger, I want to thank you for all of your kind adjectives to describe my writing. I am glad
that you appreciate all the fine detail that I put into this storyline. One thing that I was
particularly proud of was my invention of an “owl repellant.” To me, it just makes sense. Maybe I’m
just being a JKR apologist by coming up with strange excuses to paper over the gaps or mysteries in
canon, but I’m hoping that some of my reasons might actually be close to what she finally writes.
That is if she ever explains all, which I sincerely hope she does. As for Rita Skeeter, one of my
betas really wanted me to let her out and cause mischief for Harry and Sirius. I chose not to,
because the knowledge that she has is far too dangerous. I do worry about what JKR has planned with
Rita. I’m afraid, I’m very afraid of that. As it is in my story, Hearst Seldes’s poisoned pen will
provide enough problems for my two favourite characters without worrying about Sirius being
revealed as being an unregistered Animagus.

And last, but certainly not least: NAPPA. It’s a really nice feeling when the site administrator
likes your writing. I’m glad that you like the Sirius/Arabella pairing as it is an uncommon pairing
but one that I happen to be very fond of. It is all the built up sexual tension between the two
characters that made me decide – that’s the woman for Sirius! You also happen to be the first
person who has ever commented on the idea that the secret signal for Hermione might prove to be
distracting for Harry. Hmm, yes and of course the idea of it being provocative in a sexual nature
*never* occurred to me. ;-)

Oh and msscribe thinks that I shouldn’t be giving clues to what the next chapter is going to be
dealing with. Hmm, I shall think about that suggestion, but everyone should be able to figure out
with the cliffhanger that Azkaban will be where the next chapter starts. Until then…



7. Azkaban
----------

This is another chapter reload. Hopefully if there were any problems in formatting before, this
upload should fix things.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s Note: I’d like to thank Ama, Cara Hicks, and Daniel Jackson author of “Harry Potter and
the Time of Shadows” on Schnoogle for beta reading this chapter. I asked Daniel to read this
because I wanted some feedback from a guy in regards to the locker room scene. I wanted it to be
realistic but wanted to avoid getting too crude. These beta readers all suggested that I include a
warning for this chapter, so here goes.

WARNING: Vomit inducing sequence to follow.

There is one particular exchange that is very creepy. It wasn’t something that I had planned on
when I did my plotline. Instead it came to me while I was writing the scene. I had such a visceral
response to the idea that I knew that I had to include it. So that’s my bargain with you my
readers. As I wrote this story if it elicited a strong reaction from me and if I could weave it
into my plotline, I included it. That way you are benefiting from the greatest possible dramatic
potential I can give you. That does mean that you will need to hold onto your safety harness at
times. Especially with some of the upcoming chapters. So you are warned: creepiness to follow.

Rating: R - for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Seven – Azkaban

Harry saw himself sitting in a small watercraft crossing the sea and headed towards an island
with a foreboding stone fortress. There was a bitter wind tearing through his clothes that left him
drenched with salt water. The moon was only a quarter full and was obscured by clouds making the
night dark and oppressive. As the boat drew near the destination and its ominous structure, he felt
an overwhelming sense of doom. The very ground seemed to radiate with an unspoken evil. There was
no sign identifying the island or the dark stone building, but he knew from his sense of dread that
it must be Azkaban.

Harry looked around the small boat and saw three hooded figures. None of them seemed to be aware
that he had joined their group. The man piloting the boat had a silver hand and was clearly
subservient to the others. As the boat bumped the shore, the tallest figure uttered a low growl of
anticipation.

“Hurry up, Wormtail. Help me out,” he snarled.

Wormtail had just stepped out of the boat and pulled it onto the ground. He reached into the
craft and held his hand out for the two passengers. The tall man refused the extended silver hand
with an impatient wave.

“Your *other hand*, Wormtail.”

The servant complied and extended his other hand. The master then accepted the hand for
assistance out of the craft. After stepping onto solid ground, the master gripped his servant’s
hand tightly. He twisted the arm behind the smaller man’s back driving him to his knees. The arm
was yanked further back forcing the servant’s face into the mud. The tall figure then released his
servant’s hand as the man whimpered quietly.

“That’s for allowing me to get wet. Get up, you sniveling coward.”

The servant rose slowly, wiping the dirt and grime off his face. The three hooded men approached
the dark stone structure and suddenly there were dozens of hooded creatures that joined them.

“Ahhh, it is time. My sweet pets, time for better delights. The Ministry of Magic has relegated
you to guarding a few witches and wizards that they deem as ‘dangerous.’ And yet, you are literally
starving. It is not fair and I am here to relieve you of this pitiful task. Tonight you shall be
restored to your full glory and full potential.”

The dementors murmured with excitement.

“Yes, let us break open these crypts and see what is left. See what we can salvage and what
should be destroyed.”

Harry felt himself being transported alongside the hooded master and was propelled forward even
as he found himself horrified at his surroundings. The tall man seemed to glide through the
corridors and each cell door immediately sprang open as he passed by. Most were empty except for a
soiled mattress, a grimy toilet and filthy straw and dirt that covered the floor. The master
stopped at one cell that contained a woman reclining on a mattress. He gave a wicked smile that
continued until it was a full leer.

“Lilith, my devoted servant. I have come to reward your steadfast loyalty.”

The woman looked up with a look of utter adoration in her eyes.

“Master! You are here at last. I have dreamt of this day for years,” she said kneeling in front
of him with her head bowed.

“Come, come, stand before me. I wish to have a better look at you.”

She looked up at him and slowly rose up before him. He took his hand and reached down to her
groin and groped. She shuddered at his touch.

“Yes, you still appear ripe enough to bear fruit. You shall be rewarded with the ability to
continue my bloodline. The next full moon we shall have the ceremony.”

“Yes, master,” she said breathlessly.

“And your husband? Is he still alive?”

“Yes, Cain is being held a few cells down. He has also been loyal to you. We shall eagerly await
your bidding.”

“Come, let us survey the rest of the crypt,” he said as he extended his arm to her.

She took his arm and gazed up at him lovingly. Voldemort removed the hood from his head
revealing the hideous snake-like head beneath it. He leaned down and started to kiss the woman.

*

“ARRRRGH!” Harry Potter screamed as he sat bolt upright in his bed. His scar felt like it was
searing and white-hot. His heart was pounding and he put his hand to his forehead to try and soothe
the throbbing. He looked around his room and saw that the other four boys were still sleeping
soundly. His cry had been drowned out by Neville’s snoring.

“Dumbledore,” he mumbled to himself as he tossed back his bedcovers and leapt out of bed. “I
must get to Dumbledore.”

He threw on his bathrobe and slippers and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak as he quickly left the
dormitory. Harry flew through the castle not even paying attention where he was going but following
his instincts. He skidded on the floor as he rounded the corner in front of Dumbledore’s office. He
kicked and pounded on the wall outside the stone gargoyle.

“Professor Dumbledore! Professor Dumbledore! I need to see you!”

After a few moments he heard motion from within the chamber. Harry stopped the pounding and
waited. Soon the revolving staircase opened and a very tired and disheveled Dumbledore appeared at
the top.

“Yes, Harry. What is it?”

“I had a vision. Azkaban. Voldemort’s overturned it,” Harry panted.

“Come in and tell me everything.”

Harry quickly related everything in his dream. He apologized that he hadn’t seen the rest of
what transpired. He felt embarrassed to say that he forced himself awake when he saw Voldemort kiss
someone. It was more than he could bear seeing.

“Yes, well that is perfectly understandable. I think we should have you see Madam Pomfrey and
get a potion for a dreamless sleep when there’s the next full moon. I wouldn’t wish anyone to see
that kind of ceremony, even if it might provide useful information,” Dumbledore said kindly.

“Thank you, sir.”

“And now, I want to thank you for coming directly to me with this news. However, I shall wait
until morning to alert the Ministry of this attack.”

“Why wait sir?”

“Because if the events happened as you described, it would be very dangerous for any Ministry
personnel to attempt to intervene. No, it is better that they wait until the light of day so they
will be able to see any traps that might await them. Anyone that has been killed at the prison will
still be dead in the morning. It is doubtful that anyone’s life would be saved if the Ministry were
alerted right now.” Then Dumbledore sighed heavily, “It is very unfortunate that Minister Fudge did
not heed my warning about Azkaban, nor take my advice to heart. Because of that Voldemort has
reclaimed the dementors and the few surviving Death Eaters that were still imprisoned in Azkaban.
Harry it is time for you to return to your dormitory and try to get some rest. Please do not
mention this to anyone else. It is best that your clairvoyant connection to Voldemort is not widely
known and the fate of Azkaban will soon be common knowledge.”

“But sir, I told Ron and Hermione about my earlier visions…” he began.

“Yes, well, I don’t think they need to be burdened with the thought of Voldemort wanting to
impregnate one of his servants. There’s nothing they can do about that and frankly, telling them
would serve no purpose other than in horrifying your friends.”

Harry nodded and slowly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. He was thankful that by using the
Invisibility Cloak none of the passing ghosts or poltergeists bothered him as he walked by lost in
thought.

*

The next day Harry found himself walking around in a daze. He had a hard time concentrating on
anything and just followed Ron around to the classes. He couldn’t explain to his friends what was
bothering him, because of Dumbledore’s insistence on keeping the information about his dream a
secret. His mental preoccupation caused ten more points to be taken from Gryffindor when Harry
didn’t realize that Snape had asked him a question about memory potions.

The next morning however, the entire school was abuzz as soon as the morning mail arrived.
Everyone started pouring over the copies of *The Daily Prophet* that had been delivered by owl
post. A large picture on the front page was of the brooding fortress that had haunted Harry’s
dream.

**Azkaban overturned – the latest scandal to rock the Wizarding World**

*By Hearst Seldes, Managing Editor*

**Late Halloween evening the prison fortress of Azkaban was emptied of its guards and
prisoners. The Ministry of Magic sent investigators to the island yesterday after an anonymous tip
was received that there might be some trouble.**

**The investigators found all the cell doors had been opened and were empty. The bodies of two
prisoners were found dead. It appeared that their bodies had been dumped into the sea and had
washed ashore. Those prisoners were positively identified as being Thanatos Travers and Antonin
Dolohov.**

**It is not known whether the missing prisoners are alive or dead. The investigators from the
Ministry think that the dementors had become restless due to the small number of prisoners that
they were guarding.**

**Dementors are known to feed off the emotions of humans and, it may be presumed, there were
simply not enough prisoners locked up to satisfy their needs.**

**The presence of dementors at Azkaban has been the source of controversy in the Wizarding
World since it was first introduced in 1982 by then Junior Minister Cornelius Fudge.**

**It was thought that allowing these foul creatures to work as prison guards would prove to be
beneficial by isolating them from the regular wizarding population. It would also remove the risk
of guarding dangerous dark wizards by ‘normal, good wizards.’**

**And since prolonged exposure to dementors is supposed to drain witches and wizards of their
powers, it was thought that this would be a good long-term solution.**

**It is not known if the dementors simply gave their Kiss to all the prisoners and then dumped
their soulless bodies into the sea or if some of the prisoners escaped.**

**Albert Albini, a ranking member of the International Confederation of Wizards said, “I for
one was always nervous about having You-Know-Who’s greatest supporters in charge of guarding
convicted Death Eaters. I wouldn’t want the job, myself mind you, but I never slept well when I
thought about it. Now, with the rumours that the Dark Lord might have returned…well I worry what
might be waiting for us all.”**

**Minister Cornelius Fudge however feels that Albini’s concerns are overblown. “I went on a
tour of the facility a few months ago. It is true that there were not many prisoners left. It seems
that many wizards simply die from depression after being exposed to dementors for too long. So,
while they hadn’t been sentenced to death by the Council of Magical Law, it seems that they are
probably all dead now. Which of course is no great loss. We shall however, have to find new guards
to work at Azkaban once we have any new lawbreaking witches or wizards that deserve
imprisonment.”**

**The Ministry of Magic was reluctant to release a list of prisoners whose bodies were not
found, but relented when reminded that the public should consider them to be potential
fugitives.**

**The prisoners not accounted for are:**


**Cain Lestrange**
**Lilith Lestrange**
**Milton Mulciber**
**Cyncus Norris**
**Augustus Rookwood**

**The only other time that there was an escape from Azkaban was two years ago by the notorious
Sirius Black.**

**That escape led to an extensive manhunt. It was suspected that Black wanted to kill Harry
Potter. As a result dementors were stationed at Hogwarts for that entire school year. Black was
briefly detained after abducting Potter and two other students while on grounds of that school.
However, Black escaped mysteriously before the Dementor’s Kiss was performed. He has not been seen
near the school since and still eludes recapture. This has been a source of great embarrassment by
the Ministry.**

**One anonymous source at the Ministry told this reporter that the investigators are
considering the possibility that Sirius Black was behind the breakout of Azkaban so that he would
have ready followers with his former inmates.**

**Black is widely believed to have been You-Know-Who’s second in command, but that this was
only revealed with the betrayal and death of his former best friend James Potter.**

**Pictures and stories regarding these fugitives’ crimes are on page 3. Please be on the look
out for these witches or wizards and report any suspicious activity immediately to the Ministry of
Magic.**

**In other news from the Ministry, Amos Diggory has been named as the new head of the Council
of Magical Law. Story on Page 7.**

Harry turned to the inside of the paper and saw the face of the woman he had seen in
Dumbledore’s Pensieve and in his dream. He shuddered to see the evil glare in her eyes. He looked
at the other pictures and was disturbed to see that they had included Sirius among them. He hadn’t
wanted to see that the paper would link these stories, but he had to admit that it was natural that
a newspaper would include Sirius in this story since he was still a fugitive from justice. Harry
was relieved to look at the photos printed of Sirius and know that “Joseph O’Brien” didn’t resemble
either the before or after photos shown.

“Harry! I can’t believe it happened,” Hermione said with her lips trembling.

“Well, Dumbledore expected that. He told Fudge last June it would happen. I’m just surprised it
took so long,” he replied calmly.

“Why do you think that was?” Ron asked.

“Maybe Voldemort wanted time to infiltrate the Ministry before attacking Azkaban,” Harry
suggested.

“Did you see what the crime that the Lestranges and Norris were convicted of?” Hermione asked
looking at the paper. “They tortured Frank and Claire Longbottom. Do you think they’re any relation
to Neville?”

“Probably. Neville did grow up with his grandmother,” Harry said quietly. He wanted to be
careful and didn’t want it to seem too obvious that he knew they were Neville’s parents.

“Oh, that’s right. Poor Neville,” she sighed heavily.

“Well, don’t say anything to him until…well, until you can talk to him without sounding like you
pity him,” Harry said resolutely. “I’m sure that they were somehow related to him and it’s probably
still pretty painful.”

“It says here they used the Cruciatus on the Longbottoms. That explains why Neville reacted so
strongly last year when Moody, er, Crouch did his lesson,” said Ron.

Harry looked down the table and saw Neville trying to eat his breakfast in total oblivion. It
was a hard task because there were many people pointing at him and whispering as they read their
newspapers.

Harry looked up at the faculty table and locked eyes with Snape. His face had a closed
expression on it that Harry couldn’t read. Harry then broke eye contact to see Professors Sprout
and Vector huddled over the paper in deep conversation. Professor Figg looked terribly distraught
and Harry caught her eye as she left the table brushing tears away from her eyes and covering her
mouth with one hand.

*

That night as Harry went to brush his teeth before going to bed, he saw Neville in the bathroom.
A first year was just leaving, Harry looked around to be sure they were alone.

“Hey Neville, how are you doing?”

Neville shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve had better days.”

“Yeah. I didn’t tell anyone, but I’m sure…” Harry began.

“You didn’t have to. Today’s paper announced it for everyone. At least it as good as spelled it
all out. It might have been better if they had. I wouldn’t have had so many people come up to me
all day. Or just pointing and whispering at me. I now understand why you always comb your hair down
over your forehead. Trying to hide from all the peering eyes, something that people gawp over.”

Harry nodded and put a hand on Neville’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through this,
Neville.”

Neville gave him a wan smile. “Thanks, Harry. You’re a good friend.”

Harry felt a little guilty at that. He didn’t feel like he had been much of a friend towards
Neville for the last five years at all. He watched Neville leave the bathroom and saw the boy’s
rounded shoulders as if he were burdened with a heavy weight. He then looked up at the mirror and
studied his own reflection and wondered which boy had gotten the worst lot in life.

*

A few days later Ron had been waiting for Hermione to come into the Gryffindor common room after
the library closed.

“Umm, Hermione,” Ron sniffed. “I was looking through that book on Greek Myths and I began
thinking about Filch. Did you ever wonder about him and Mrs. Norris?”

Ron opened up the book to a page showing a man whose body was covered with eyeballs.

“Well, what do you mean?” she asked quickly licking her lips.

“You know…*Argus* looking over a transfigured woman?”

“Er, what are you two talking about? I haven’t read this stuff before,” Harry said blinking.

“Well, it starts off with Zeus. He went after anything in a skirt,” Ron began.

“Sort of like Snuffles in his younger days,” Harry interjected.

“Oh, really?” Hermione said with a raised eyebrow.

“Umm, yeah. Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Please continue.”

“Anyway,” Ron continued. “Zeus was spending time with a pretty young thing named Io and his main
wife Hera came along. Zeus saw her coming and tried to hide Io quickly, so he transfigured her into
a calf. It was a snow white calf that was as beautiful as the young woman.”

“And Hera wasn’t fooled for one minute. But she had the upper hand,” said Hermione as she leaned
on Harry’s shoulder and turned her face upward towards him. “All she had to do was bat her
eyelashes and say, ‘Oh what a beautiful calf. May I have her?’”

Harry felt a little warmth flush through him with Hermione’s playacting.

“So he gave her the calf?” he asked with a strangled voice.

“Of course,” said Ron. “Then Hera asked her faithful manservant Argus to watch over the calf. He
had one hundred eyes all over his body. So he always had some eyes awake at any one time.”

“Ron, do you think Mrs. Norris is a witch that’s been transfigured and Argus Filch is watching
over her?” Hermione asked.

“Why not? After Scabbers, I’m willing to look at any animal around here sceptically. And you’ve
got to admit that Mrs. Norris is a strange name for a cat.”

“It’s the name of a character from *Mansfield Park* by Jane Austen,” Hermione
protested.

“And she’s…?” Ron prompted.

“A famous nineteenth century British writer,” Hermione said with an edge to her voice.

“Mmm, hmm. So do you think it’s likely that Argus Filch is a big fan of nineteenth century
Muggle literature?” Ron asked.

“Well, when you put it that way…” Hermione began.

“Yesss and you’ve got to admit that when she was petrified he acted as if he had lost a loved
one. As if she were a person and not just a cat.”

“You’re right on that point, Ron,” said Harry.

“And Cyncus Norris was one of the prisoners in Azkaban. What if Mrs. Norris is his wife? And
somehow Filch was told to look after her? What if she’s another Death Eater and has been here at
Hogwarts gathering information for You-Know-Who?”

Harry glared at Ron and hissed, “Voldemort.”

“Sorry, Harry,” Ron shook his head. “I just can’t bring myself to say that name. Anyway, what if
she’s been patiently waiting for her husband to show back up?”

“Why would a Squib watch over a transfigured Death Eater?” asked Hermione.

“Maybe he was in love with her and maybe he thought she loved him in return? He does refer to
her as ‘my sweet.’ So maybe he thought he was protecting her when in reality she was just hiding
from the Aurors and has been spying on Dumbledore all this time.”
“I don’t know, Ron,” Hermione said sceptically. “Don’t you think Dumbledore or one of the faculty
would have thought of that before?”

“You’re just feeling bad because *you* didn’t think of it before. Little Miss Expert on
Greek mythology,” he said gleefully teasing her.

“That’s not true,” she said defensively. Then she paused. “Well, maybe a little…okay…I’ll admit
it just this one time. You’re right. I’m kicking myself because I didn’t think of it. Are you happy
now?”

“Yes, I am,” Ron said smugly. “It’s not everyday that the Great Hermione Granger admits she was
wrong.”

“So Ron, any thoughts as to how we should go about testing this theory of yours?” she asked.

“Not really,” he sighed. “Think we should tell McGonagall?”

“No.” Harry said firmly. “She’d never believe it. If for no other reason than she never thought
of it before either. She’d be much tougher than Hermione to admit that she was wrong about
something. No, I think we need to talk to Professor Figg. She’s a former Auror and she might listen
to us if for no other reason than she hasn’t been here for years. So she won’t blame herself for
overlooking it.”

“Okay,” said Hermione. “When do you want to talk with her?”

“First thing tomorrow morning. If there’s a Death Eater here at Hogwarts, we need to get them
exposed right away.”

“You don’t want to try tonight?” Hermione asked.

“No. I don’t want to start prowling around the faculty quarters at night. Snape or McGonagall
would skin us alive for that. Especially for something they probably would dismiss out of
hand.”

*

The following day was a Sunday and they decided that Hermione should be the one to go up to
Professor Figg after breakfast. No one would think twice about Hermione asking a teacher a question
outside of class. Figg nodded and when they left the Great Hall, Harry and Ron quickly followed
them to her office.

“So what do I owe this honour that the Great Trio wants to speak with me?” she asked as she
casually readjusted an earring.

“Umm, well we have something that we thought of that if we’re right could be very dangerous for
the safety of this school,” Harry said as he pushed his glasses up.

“What is it?”

“Well, we were wondering about Argus Filch and his cat,” said Ron.

“What about his cat?” Professor Figg pressed.

“We don’t think it’s a cat. We think it might be someone who’s been transfigured. Possibly the
wife of a Death Eater or maybe a female Death Eater,” Hermione chimed in.

“Why do you think that?”

“A few years ago when a basilisk was set loose in the school, his cat was petrified. He didn’t
react like someone does when a cat is killed. Even if it’s a very loved pet. He acted as if it were
someone that he loved. Like it was a woman,” Harry said solemnly.

“His cat’s name is Mrs. Norris. And we just have doubts that he’d be a fan of Jane Austen. And
now that we’ve read about Cyncus Norris escaping from Azkaban…” Hermione trailed off.

“His cat’s name is *Mrs. Norris?*” Professor Figg said startled.

All three nodded at her.

“I didn’t know that,” she said looking off into space. “Thank you for telling me. I shall look
into the matter. Thank you.”

She absentmindedly dismissed them and sat staring in the distance.

“Well, at least she didn’t tell us that we were nutters,” said Ron.

“Yeah, and that’s exactly how McGonagall would have responded. Nutters,” said Harry.

Later Hermione went to the library while Ron and Harry headed for Quidditch practice. The whole
school was getting excited because the first match of the season was this Saturday and after a year
without Quidditch, the school was eager to have the return of their wizarding sport. Both
Gryffindor and Slytherin were given extended practice times on Sunday since they were competing in
the upcoming match.

They were in the locker rooms changing into their practice uniforms when Dean Thomas came in
holding something under his cloak. He slipped it out and handed it to Ron. As he turned it over,
Ron saw that he was holding a mask with a green snake’s face painted on it.

“What is this Dean?” Ron asked looking as if it were about to attack him.

“It’s a mask that goalies use in hockey. I had my folks send me two of them and I painted
them.”

Dean put his mask on and it bore a grinning skull on its face.

“Umm, Dean – why do you need masks?” asked Harry.

“Well, those Bludgers are pretty brutal. I’d hate to take one to the head. So I had Hermione
help me to put some charms on them. They’re Bludger resistant and they don’t interfere with your
peripheral vision.”
“Really?” Ron said as he tried his on. “You’re right. I thought I wouldn’t be able to see very
well.”

“Besides being protective gear, I thought it might give us a little edge. You know, a bit of
psychological warfare.”

“Don’t you think those designs are a bit much?” Harry asked.

“Why?” Dean asked defensively. “We’re going up against Slytherin. Think they’ll be afraid to see
a skull or a snake? Come on, the snake’s on their crest and a skull is practically their unofficial
symbol. So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know…I just get a bad feeling about this,” Harry said shaking his head. “Well, come on.
Let’s get going. We’ve only got three hours on the field.”

Practice that day was fast and furious. After it was over, Harry felt very confident going into
the match. He had never seen his teamwork with such skill and precision. He saw the advantage of
having a practice team to try out different strategies. Ron narrowly edged out Dean with a lower
goals against average and was announced as the Keeper for the upcoming game.

After showering, Ron and Harry were alone in the locker room changing into their clothes. They
were quietly talking about what steps they thought Professor Figg might take to investigate the
Mrs. Norris mystery. Then Ron changed the subject to something that made Harry feel very
uncomfortable.

“Hey Harry, why do you suppose Figg changed her wardrobe? I mean at the beginning of the year
she just wore those short cloaks. You could see her clothes underneath. Now she’s wearing robes
that reminds me of the Fat Friar.”

“I dunno, Ron. Maybe she got tired of guys like you staring at her chest when she’s trying to
teach a class,” Harry retorted.

“It’s not just her chest, she’s got legs that go on forever. Can you blame me for looking? Who
else am I supposed to look at? Old McGonagall?” he shuddered. “Dumpy Sprout? Or crazy bat-eyed
Trelawney?”

They both laughed at the images.

“Come on, Ron,” said Harry. “Figg’s old enough to be your mother.”

“I don’t think my mum ever looked that good. I don’t think any guy here would lust after my mum.
But, I know that lots of guys have been having some wicked dreams about Figg.”

Seamus and Dean just came out of the showers.

“You guys talking about Fabulous Figg?” asked Dean.

“Ron is,” Harry muttered. “I’d be careful. Remember Seamus is a prefect. He might take points
away for talking about a teacher with such disrespect.”

“Why? Were you guys talking about her body?” asked Seamus.

“Yeah,” admitted Ron.

“Why would I take points away for talk like that in a locker room? I’d have to take points away
from meself. I mean, she’s hot. And is it just me or has her body gotten better since school
started?”

“It’s a good thing we wear these everyday robes, otherwise Ron would be in trouble if he had to
stand in front of Figg’s class to do a report,” laughed Dean.

“That’s true,” laughed Ron.

“Come on, Harry,” teased Dean. “Do you mean to tell us that you’ve never had *any* lewd
thoughts about her?”

Harry then remembered his envisioning her with Sirius last summer. He swallowed hard.

“I thought so,” Dean said. “Stop beating up Ron for just saying what every guy around here has
been thinking.”

Harry had finished dressing and grabbed his broomstick and headed out the door.

“Why don’t you guys just go and hack off. Do it quietly though. I don’t want to hear *that*
while I’m trying to sleep.”

The room burst into laughter as he left.

Harry was halfway back to the castle when Ron caught up with him. “Hey Harry, there’s something
else that’s I’ve been thinking about.”

“Does it have to do with Figg?”

“No.”

“What is it then?”

“Do you think Hermione’s still a virgin?” asked Ron.

Harry stopped walking and looked at him. The thought had never occurred to him. “Uh, yeah. Why?
Did you hear anything?”

“Well, she visited Krum last summer.”

“With her parents there as chaperones. I’m sure nothing happened,” Harry said.

“Think about it, Harry. Krum went to a school where they teach the Dark Arts. Do you think he
wouldn’t use some spells to keep her parents sleeping while they…”

“Ron, I don’t think she likes him that way,” Harry protested.

“Yeah, so you think he’s honourable and wouldn’t try using some spells *on her* to
umm…”

“Why would he do that?”

“Why do guys get girls drunk? So they can have their way with them. And why do guys date younger
women? Because then they have a power difference. She should never have gone out with him,” Ron
stated flatly.

“I think she’d tell us if she needed help.”

“You know Hermione. She has a hard time admitting that she’s wrong. I don’t think she knows how
wrong it is for her to be dating this guy. She’s totally unhappy with him, but yet she still is
going out with him. It’s just wrong. *It’s just wrong.*”

“Well, *I* don’t think she’s done anything with him. What do you think?” Harry asked.

“He better not have laid a finger on her,” Ron said darkly. “If he did anything to her – I’ll
kill him. I swear I will.”

Ron started walking angrily toward the castle. Harry just stood there thinking about what his
friend had said and hoped that his fears were unfounded.

*

A few days later, during the morning breakfast a large tawny owl dropped a letter in front of
Harry. The outside was marked Private. He opened it carefully and held it so that no one else could
read it.

*Hey Harry,*

*I need to talk with you. Please meet me behind the greenhouses today at 12:30. I would have
enclosed a hair in this letter to prove it was truly me who sent this note, but after Professor
Figg’s class – I’m very paranoid. Please come alone and don’t tell anyone. It’s very
personal.*

*Cho*

“Who’s that from Harry? Snuffles?” Ron asked.

“No and I can’t say. It’s personal,” Harry said as he tucked it into his book bag.

At lunch that day he glanced over at the Ravenclaw table and saw Cho get up and leave. She
looked him directly in the eye and cocked her head to the side as if pointing to the door outside.
She then ran her fingers through her hair and picked up her book bag.

Harry quickly finished his lunch and excused himself saying that he needed to take a walk and
would meet his friends in class. As he approached the greenhouses, Harry’s stomach felt like it was
in his throat. What did Cho want? He found himself hoping that she had changed her mind about him.
When he turned the corner and saw her pretty face, his heart skipped a beat.

“Hey Harry,” she said as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Umm, hi Cho,” he said blinking slowly.

“Thanks for coming. I’ve got a problem and was hoping you might help me.”

“What’s up?”

“Summers Montague, the new captain of the Slytherin team has been bothering me. He’s been
pressuring me to go out with him. I don’t want to date anyone right now – but I’d never in a
million years want to date him.”

*Nope, she hasn’t changed her mind at all,* he thought disappointedly.

“What do you want me to do?” Harry asked.

“You’re playing against them this Saturday. I was hoping you might say something to him. Maybe
teach him a lesson?” she said slyly.

Harry nodded slowly. “I think the Weasley twins might be persuaded to help me out on this.”

Cho looked relieved.

“Thanks Harry. I knew you’d understand,” she said as she squeezed his shoulder.

He smiled wistfully at her. “Anytime.”

*

Harry had followed Dumbledore’s advice and had asked Madam Pomfrey for a potion for a dreamless
night’s sleep. He desperately wanted to avoid witnessing Voldemort’s unholy ceremony. He was glad
that he had taken that precaution as Friday morning he awoke with his scar throbbing dully. He
wasn’t sure what exactly it portended, but he was glad that he hadn’t experienced any visions
associated with it.

Saturday morning came and it was overcast, but not storming. Harry was glad for that. He hated
playing Quidditch in lousy weather. Today promised to be cool and crisp. He was excited to be
captain and try out new strategies on the team he hated the most: Slytherin.

Eating breakfast before the matches was always difficult for Harry. His nerves had always gotten
the best of him and even though he knew he should eat a good meal for energy, he had a hard time
getting anything down.

“Harry, do you know why the Malfoys and others like them hate us Muggle born witches and wizards
so much?” Hermione asked.

“I thought it was because they’re racist,” he answered.

“That’s part of it. But what is the root of racism?”

“I don’t know. Hatred?”

“Fear. Fear of losing power. Fear of change. Fear of something different from themselves. That’s
what oppression is all about. They hate us because they fear us,” she answered proudly.

“I don’t get it,” said Harry. “Why would they fear us?”

“We’re from a different culture and we will question their social structure. We represent a
threat to the status quo. We’re subversive,” she giggled. “I’ve never thought of myself as being
subversive before. But I kinda like it.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” said Ron.

“I heard someone once say that the Beatles had more influence with the fall of Communism than
did the arms race with the Americans.”

“The bugs?” Ron asked quizzically.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’ve never heard of
Princess Diana.”

“Who?”

“Oh honestly, Ron,” Hermione said exasperated. “Next summer you and Ginny need to come to
*my* house for a week. I’ll give both of you a crash course on Muggle popular culture. Believe
me you need it desperately.”

Then she turned back to Harry. “I think we can have just as big an impact on changing the
Wizarding World by introducing Muggle concepts. We can start with some pop culture.”

“How?” he asked.

“Well, we can’t play music here because the enchantments would interfere with our stereos. But
we can always sing,” she said conspiratorily.

“Sing? I can’t sing. I’d sound like Trevor. Besides my voice is changing,” Harry protested.

“You don’t have to sing, Harry. Leave that to me,” she said smugly.

Hermione turned to Dean and started whispering in his ear. He looked at her, smiled and nodded
enthusiastically.

*

As the team was gathered around the locker room all dressed in their uniforms, Harry rose to
speak.

“Okay, team we’re about to take to the field. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say as the
captain other than I think we look sharper than I’ve ever seen us. Let’s just go out there and show
them what we’ve done in practice and I’m sure we’ll win. And, uh, Dean had something he wanted to
say.”

All eyes turned to the reserve Keeper.

“We are the best team. The whole school is going to know it after today. We’ve got the best
players, the best game winning strategies and the best fans. Today, since I can’t be in the air
with you – I’m going to be leading some cheers in the stands. It’ll be loud, it’ll be boisterous
and most of all it’ll be fun. The other houses won’t know how to react, but you’ll know that it
means that every Gryffindor is pulling for you. Go Gryffindor!”

They left the locker room full of nervous energy and excitement. The teams met each other at the
Quidditch pitch and sized each other up. The Slytherins had added a few new players, but they had
kept with their practice of brawn over brains. The only female on their team was Millicent
Bulstrode. She was easily larger than any of the Gryffindor players. She had a square head and body
and scowled at Harry and Ron.

Harry went to shake hands with the captain of the Slytherin team, Summers Montague. They gripped
each other’s hands and exchanged a look of contempt with each other. Fred and George stood on
either side of Harry and looked like big burly red-haired bookends. The Weasley twins growled
menacingly at Montague.

“The first match of the school year is about to begin. *Gryffindor versus Slytherin!*” Lee
Jordon announced. “The teams are now taking to the air and the captains are exchanging a
handshake.”

“Prepare to die, Potter,” Montague hissed under his breath.

“It’ll take more than a game of Quidditch to finish me off, Montague. You are warned to leave
Cho Chang alone. She’s not interested in you.”

“She’s not yours, Potter!”

“That’s right. She doesn’t *belong* to anyone. So just sod off!” Harry snarled as he
released his grip.

“Captains, please mount your brooms! It’s been a long time since we’ve had a game, make it a
nice clean one!” demanded Madam Hooch.

Ron placed the snakehead mask on his face and immediately the Slytherin team started pointing at
him and arguing. Montague flew towards Madam Hooch.

“What the Hell is that? I want to lodge a protest. Their Keeper is wearing an unapproved
uniform.”

Hooch motioned Ron and Harry to come forward.

“What do you have to say for yourselves?” she asked.

“It’s protective gear, Madam Hooch,” said Ron. There’s nothing in the rules that says a Keeper
cannot wear a mask to protect themselves.”

“We double checked the rules,” said Harry.

“Yes, well it is unusual, but I suppose it’s not violating anything. You can keep it. Let’s
start the game already! Mount your brooms!” she commanded.

“After a quick conference, it seems that the game will begin,” announced Jordan. “The Gryffindor
Keeper appears to be wearing a green mask of some kind. I can’t tell the design from here, but the
Slytherins don’t seem pleased at all. Madam Hooch has just released the Bludgers, now the Golden
Snitch.

“And now the Quaffle is up. *Yes!* Angelina Johnson a seventh year Gryffindor has gotten
possession of the Quaffle. She’s zooming towards the goal and Oh! Saved by Keeper Bulstrode. She
passes the Quaffle to – oh and intercepted by Spinnet who passes to Bell who SCORES! Gryffindor is
the first to score. Now Slytherin is in possession. Montague with the Quaffle. He’s going towards
the scoring area.”

Montague flew towards the hoops and found not only Ron defending the hoops, but Angelina Johnson
and Alicia Spinnet flying nearby. As he tried to get a clear scoring position, the Chasers would
block him.

Then a Bludger grazed his left arm.

Montague turned to scowl at Fred Weasley as Katie Bell stripped his hands of the Quaffle.

“Bell steals the Quaffle! She streaks toward the Slytherin end and passes to Johnson who SCORES!
Twenty to Zero Gryffindor. Montague once again has possession of the Quaffle. He looks determined
to score this time. The Gryffindor chasers are again in a formation blocking him. He passes to
Warrington, who shoots and – stopped by Ron Weasley, Gryffindor’s new Keeper.

“Angelina Johnson has the Quaffle. She dodges a Bludger. Passes to Bell who passes to Spinnet
and SCORES! Thirty to Zero, Gryffindor! No sign of the Golden Snitch yet, but this game looks like
skill is outdistancing brawn.”

“Watch it, Jordan,” snapped Professor McGonagall.

“Sorry, Professor. Slytherin’s captain once again has the Quaffle. He’s hoping to break his
streak of bad luck and score this time. He’s flying around trying to find an opening…”

Then Harry started to hear a commotion coming from the stands. Hermione and Dean were leading
the section in a new cheer. The students were stomping and clapping. The sound started low and then
it started to grow.

Boom, Boom, Crash.

Boom, Boom, Crash.

“We will, we will rock you!”

BOOM, BOOM, CRASH.

BOOM, BOOM, CRASH.

“WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!”

Harry was glad that Dean had warned his team about the cheer. None of them really had known what
to expect, but the Slytherins were caught totally off guard. Montague was so startled that he lost
his grip on the Quaffle and Angelina Johnson stripped it from him and headed towards the other end
to score. Fred then pelted a Bludger in Montague’s direction.

“Leave Chang alone!” Fred shouted.

The Slytherin captain swerved and avoided being hit. But the Bludger zoomed on straight towards
George who used a backhanded swat and the iron ball hit Montague square in the ribs.

“Take that Summers!” George yelled.

Draco Malfoy had jumped at the booming sounds from the stands and almost lost hold of his
broomstick. Harry had a knowing grin on his face. *Hermione was right. We are subversive,* he
thought.

Then he saw the Golden Snitch glinting four feet above the ground. He dove quickly while Malfoy
was still staring at the Gryffindor fans stomping and clapping in the stands.

“Potter has started to dive. He’s after the Golden Snitch. This game could be over soon. Now
Malfoy’s woken up and started following. Toooo late! Harry Potter got the snitch! Gryffindor wins
the game 190-0. I don’t remember the last shut out we’ve seen. This was an incredible game.”

The stadium was filled with sounds. Boos coming from the Slytherin section and cheers from all
the other sections. Harry proudly thrust the Golden Snitch upwards for all to see and to the
approving roar of the Gryffindor fans.

“We Are the Champions! We Are the Champions!” Hermione and Dean were singing loudly and waving
their arms to get others to join in.

The Slytherin team left the field without congratulating the Gryffindors.

Harry chuckled inwardly in wondering what Malfoy was thinking of this display of Muggle
enthusiasm. Then he was swarmed by his teammates who attacked him with bear hugs and pats on the
back.

Later as Harry was leaving the Quidditch pitch, he heard a familiar voice call to him.

“Potter. What was that display today?” Snape snarled. Professor McGonagall was standing near him
and had a shocked look on her face.

“In the air or in the stands?” Harry asked.

“Both! I’ve never heard such a racket before.”

“It was just a little demonstration of house spirit. It’s a common chant used at Muggle sporting
events. It’s from a song by the rock band Queen.”

“That’s been done before?” Professor McGonagall said sounding surprised.

“It’s done all the time,” Harry smiled. “Some of my classmates thought it might give us a little
boost. It did raise my spirits a bit.”

“Yes, well I guess it doesn’t break any Quidditch rules, although it is *highly unusual*,”
she said.

“Yes, well congratulations on your win,” Snape said with his eyes narrowing. “I’d suggest your
housemates not get too excited. There’s still the rest of the season to go.”

Harry looked up at the stands and saw the entire Gryffindor section were swaying and singing “We
are the Champions” to the utter dismay of the Slytherins who were leaving the stands and
sneering.

“Potter, may I have a word with you?” Snape said sharply as Professor McGonagall walked towards
the castle.

Harry swallowed hard and nodded.

“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but that mask was ill advised.”

“Why?” Harry demanded. “Because it reminded people of the evil that’s out there, waiting for
them?”

“No, you little snot. Because in trying to compare yourself to the Dark Lord, even in jest, you
make him seem less fearful. That skews reality and that’ll prove to be dangerous later when the
students have to decide where to cast their allegiance. Potter, you shouldn’t be trying to
intimidate others in this school. They’ll wind up resenting you. That’ll harm everything we’ve been
working towards.”

“That’s just rich,” Harry spat. “You’ve done everything you can since my first day here to
intimidate the hell out of me.”

“Do you know why?” Snape sneered.

“You seem to think that I was raised as Prince Harry and not just Plain Harry. As if I were
pampered and came here expecting everything on a silver platter. Do you even *know* what my
home life was like? I grew up with an aunt and uncle who treated me either as if either I didn’t
exist, as if I was their whipping boy or that I was the family embarrassment. I slept in a cupboard
under the stairs while my cousin Dudley had two bedrooms. He was given *anything* that he
wanted and was never once reprimanded for beating me up. The only thing that they ever bought for
me were these glasses. Otherwise, I’ve only gotten Dudley’s cast offs. I learned early on that
nothing I ever did would please my aunt and uncle. So I stopped trying to earn their approval
because it would never happen. I see the same thing with you. It doesn’t matter what I do or say,
because you have it in for me. So, I’ll just have to go on without your approval like I’ve survived
without any respect or approval from my own flesh and blood.”

“Are you quite through yet?”

“No!” said Harry getting four years of pent up frustration out. “I also didn’t know that I was a
wizard or what happened to my parents until Hagrid showed up and personally handed me my acceptance
letter. My uncle kept destroying the dozens of letters that had been sent. They told me that my
parents had died in a car crash. My aunt and uncle could have raised me as if I were another son.
And my cousin could have been like a brother to me, but instead they tried to make my life as
miserable as possible. They thought they could beat the magic out of me. Hagrid had to tell me what
happened to my parents and why I have this scar. Then I come to Hogwarts, where for the first time
in my life I wasn’t being bullied and ostracized by Dudley’s gang. And then *you* treat me as
bad or worse than my own family. You purposefully embarrassed me on my first day of class. *Just
for sport.* I know we’re supposed to be on the same side in this war, but that doesn’t mean I’ll
be coming to you for advice.”

“*Now* can I say something?” Snape said coldly.

Harry thought of telling Snape off for his horrible treatment of Hermione and Neville in his
class, but bit his tongue instead. He knew he was skating dangerously close to the line where if he
crossed it Snape would explode. Harry could already see the veins in Snape’s temples throb
dangerously. If he brought up other students, Snape would see that as him being disrespectful of
his teaching methods and that would clearly cross the line.

Harry locked his eyes with Snape and slowly nodded assent.

“I’ve been trying to make sure that you receive a balanced education. The rest of the faculty
and wizarding world seemed to have been enamored by the sheer recitation of your name. I didn’t
want that going to your head. To go from the Dursley’s to complete adoration would be very
destructive. I wanted to temper that. So I deliberately treated you harshly. Coddling won’t help
you survive against Voldemort.”

“That is your idea of balanced? Am I supposed to thank you for character building or
something?”

“I don’t expect any thanks, just a little recognition on your part that *we are not
enemies.* And that Slytherin House is not the enemy either. Many of those children are going to
be approached soon to join Voldemort’s forces. It will be up to all of us to try and give them the
desire and strength to turn him down. Pranks like that mask will only serve to harm our efforts. I
suggest that you get rid of that thing.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “I’ll take care of that. Anything else?”

“Those songs and that chanting…”

“I don’t know,” Harry gave a rueful smile as he shook his head. “I think my house really got
into that. It might be hard to put the genie back in the bottle.”

“Yes, music does have it’s own magic. Very well, that’s all Potter. And you played a good game
out there.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape,” Harry said as he inwardly marveled at his telling off Snape and
not losing any house points.

Harry tried to get the uncomfortable feeling out of his stomach as he went back to the
Gryffindor common room that was wildly celebrating the victory. It was another party that went on
for hours and Harry was happy to see Hermione and Dean revelling in their new roles as head
cheerleaders. He hadn’t seen her laugh and smile that much in months and he was glad to have had
some small part in that. Neville also seemed to have found his smile again after a week of looking
sullen and depressed. Fred and George were the centre of attention as they showed off their new
wares and told uproarious jokes. Everyone seemed excited, except for Harry. His interaction with
Snape that day kept coming back to him and served to temper his own enthusiasm.

*

The next day Harry groaned when he saw the morning paper. The headline screamed, “Gryffindor
House the new breeding ground for Death Eater Activity?” The sports writer that covered the
Gryffindor/Slytherin contest made accusations regarding the snake mask and “We Will Rock You” as
signals to others in the school. It implied that you were to join with Harry Potter or be
destroyed.

“Obviously that reporter has never heard of Queen,” Dean groused. “I mean, how do they come up
with thinking that ‘We Will Rock You’ is a threat? And obviously they’ve never seen hockey.”

“Dean, I knew that mask was asking for it,” Harry muttered.

“I’m glad I led the crowd in ‘We are the Champions.’ I almost had them sing, ‘Another One Bites
the Dust.’”

Harry closed his eyes. “Thank you Dean for that small favour.”

“What do you care Harry? This stuff in the paper is nonsense and everyone with half a brain can
tell that.”

“That’s easy for you to say Dean,” Harry replied. “You’re not famous. I’m known for something
that happened when I was still a baby and have very little memory of. Most people in the wizarding
world think they know me, but they’ve never even met me. So now, I’ve got this strange Dark Lord in
training myth being perpetrated in the paper. I can’t do anything about it, but I don’t want to do
anything to feed that fire either. We have to get rid of those masks.”

**

Copious Endnotes: I want to take this time to comment on a few of my dramatic choices. The first
is the number of prisoners in Azkaban. This is one of the many murky areas in canon. In trying to
figure out how populated the wizarding prison actually is, I had to use the graveyard scene and
what Sirius had said in GoF as guides. There were some gaps mentioned in the graveyard, but the
exact size and numbers are imprecise. Plus we know that there have been deaths of prisoners at
Azkaban. So I interpreted that to mean that there were not many Death Eaters left behind bars. I
only created one Death Eater, who I think was the Fourth Man in the Pensieve scene.

I want to let everyone know that I’m not going to subject you to any more scenes with Voldemort
and Lilith. I couldn’t force myself to wrap my mind any farther into that area than what I did. So
you can be grateful for that.d

When this story was first published on Schnoogle, there were several reviewers that had
commented about my using Queen’s “We Will Rock You.” It reminded them of a scene from the movie “A
Knight’s Tale” and wondered if I was paying homage to it. The answer to that is no, because not
only had I not seen the movie at that time, but I hadn’t even heard of it when I wrote this
chapter. I had merely been trying to be original and subversive – just trying to mix Wizarding with
Muggle culture. As it turns out someone else liked the concept of juxtaposing pop culture with
medieval sport. Oh well, c’est la vie. On another note, “Another One Bites the Dust” was a very
popular song that was chanted at sporting events my last year in high school, but I thought it
would be realllly creepy for the Gryffindors to use that song given that it might be something that
could be Voldemort’s theme song (if of course he knew how to Rock ‘n Roll which I am sure He Does
Not.)

As always I’d like to thank those who have taken the time to review my writing and also to
respond. Thanks go to: catark, Chelsea, E. C. R. Potter, FlipSwimmer215, Michelle, NAPPA,
SamanthaMarie, Slane, star429. In answer to a question by E.C.R. Potter, I combined the first two
chapters that I had posted separately on Schnoogle – which does make my first chapter here quite
long. The reason was in retrospect something that allows the reader to realize that I’m not going
to spend the whole story being told through an OC’s POV. So there will be only 17 chapters here,
where on Schnoogle it is 18. I am currently going through and reprinting the chapters on hard copy
and cleaning up a few syntax errors, spelling goofs, since I have the opportunity to try and fix
things. That’s why I am not uploading everything all at once.

NAPPA asked about Harry fumbling with the chain. Well, having your hands near the nape of a
young woman’s neck might cause a bit of unease don’t you think? Especially when everyone is
watching you. Yes, that is indeed part of the subtle buildup to a romantic relationship between the
two. I also don’t hate Ron. I happen to think Harry is a much better match for Hermione than Ron
is, but don’t feel that I need to paint Ron in a negative way in order to accomplish that. Here’s
hoping that you like the characterization that I do give to Ron, because it is ‘quite special.’ And
thank you so much for your compliments. It means a lot to me.

SamanthaMarie brought up another murky canon issue, namely the age of some of the students.
There are a number of areas that JKR isn’t explicit about and this is one of them. According to
canon in GoF, Angelina turned seventeen a month earlier so she was old enough to enter into the
tournament. Trying to figure out is she is 6th or 7th year is complicated by
the fact that Cedric Diggory was seventeen and was in his sixth year. Diggory’s year was
established in PoA when it was stated that he was in his fifth year. So, different fanfic writers
will make different choices as to whether Angelina was in her sixth or seventh year in GoF. I tend
to think she was in her sixth year, because it seemed like Harry was surprised to learn that she
was old enough to enter. I would have expected that all the seventh year students would have
entered the contest. ::Shrugs:: Those were the reasons I had for deciding to make Angelina Johnson
a seventh year in my story. Same goes for Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet, we don’t know for certain
how old they are, but you can assume that they are younger than Angelina because presumably they
would have entered the tournament otherwise. Another mystery with ages in canon is that we are
unsure as to whether Hermione is two months younger than Harry or ten months older. I tend to think
she’s younger, but that’s just a personal preference on my part since I was the youngest in my
graduating class and had no difficulty competing with anyone academically.

Chelsea asked it I’m Unitarian Universalist. Not really, but I do like many of the tenets of
that faith. I consider myself to be more spiritual than religious and that comes after years of
independent comparative religious study. I have found that I prefer disorganized religion to
organized religion.

Anyway, I’m glad to hear that my readers appreciate that I’m addressing both Viktor and Neville.
Just wait until you see what I have in store for them!

I love Greek Mythology and “D’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths” is one of my all time favourite
books on the subject. I love the illustrations and the how the stories flow lyrically from one to
another. SamanthaMarie also loves the quote I included from Margaret Mead, I think it describes
Life In General. I wonder if you’ll catch a quote from Abigail Adams that I sneak into an upcoming
chapter. Because, well, I love inserting little Easter Eggs for the attentive reader.

Speaking of which, for those interested in such things – try looking up the meanings for the
names of the characters in this chapter. They have special significance. One of my beta readers
thought that Summers was a “cheery name for a Slytherin.” That’s only because she had never heard
of the Reverend Montague Summers and didn’t get my in-joke.

Until later…



8. Christmas at the Burrow
--------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s notes: I'd like to once again thank my beta readers, Cara Hicks and Ama for
providing valuable feedback on this chapter. This happens to be one of my favourite chapters
because the emotions are so real. That realism also makes it a tad uncomfortable in spots, but
hopefully no one will need therapy after reading this. ;-)

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Eight – Christmas at the Burrow

Harry’s fear of how students from the other houses would respond to the latest controversy in
*The* *Daily Prophet* wound up being overblown. He kept getting congratulations for the
victory over Slytherin in the hallways and at mealtimes from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. He
still received glares from the Slytherins, but that wasn’t anything different than what he had
gotten from them for years.

That week in Herbology class, Justin Finch-Fletchley came up to Harry and shook his hand.

“Harry, that was a great game. I was really impressed by your team’s defensive moves. I’ve got a
cousin in Montreal that we’ve visited a few times. So, I’ve played hockey with him and that really
reminded me of that sport. Especially the mask. It was really cool.”

“Thanks, Justin.”

“I couldn’t believe the crap that fish wrapper of a Wizarding daily wrote about you. Honestly,
there was nothing nefarious in that game. They ought to just stick to printing the horoscope, the
obits, a crossword puzzle and call it a day.”

Harry nodded appreciatively.

“I liked the mask idea so much, I wrote my folks and they’ll be sending me one,” said Justin. “I
hope to have it in time to paint a badger’s face on it before our big match against Ravenclaw in
three weeks. Plus, we’re working on having our own special chants to help spook the opposing team.
You really inspired us, Potter!”

Professor Sprout cleared her throat loudly, “Yes, that was an impressive display and I’m sure
that we’d all like to talk endlessly about it. However, if you’ll turn to the plants that are set
out at your workstations, perhaps we could begin our lesson. Today’s plant is belladonna. We’ll be
discussing its magical properties and how best to grow it. ”

Justin turned his back to Harry and concentrated on the green plant with violet blossoms that
was before him.

*

Harry had found that this year’s studies were not as difficult as they had been in previous
years. He credited that to the intense tutoring he had received over the summer with Professor Figg
and Sirius. He found it difficult at times to not appear bored in class when he could perform a
task with little or no effort. This was especially difficult in Transfiguration. A class that he
had previously had only a passing interest in. Now he found that Professor McGonagall’s choice of
items to transfigure were mundane and very easy to transform.

Harry had been staring out the window when Professor McGonagall stood in front of his desk,
glaring at him. “Well, Mr. Potter. Aren’t you even going to attempt today’s lesson? Or are you too
busy contemplating the weather outside?”

Harry absentmindedly waved his wand over the fern and it turned instantly into a lace doily. He
looked up and gave a small smile.

“Why didn’t you attempt this earlier?” she asked sharply.

“I guess I’m just not a doily kind of guy,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“You will see me after class, Mr. Potter.”

Harry gulped and nodded.

After the other students filed out of the classroom, Harry walked up slowly to Professor
McGonagall’s desk. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Harry. I’ve been wondering how you advanced so quickly in Transfiguration lessons. It
seems that you don’t even put forth any effort in this class anymore. You simply perform without
any struggle. You used to have great difficulty. Do you care to tell me what has changed?”

Harry’s mind started working overtime. Clearly Dumbledore had not taken Professor McGonagall
into his confidence about Harry’s private lessons over the summer. Professor Figg had implored him
to not tell anyone about knowing her outside of school. He would have thought that Professor Figg
would have discussed this with her aunt, but apparently she hadn’t.

“Umm,” he cast around for a good reason. “I ah, studied yoga over the summer. It really helped
me to, uh, concentrate. I can now visualize the items clearly and I can see the transformation
happen in my mind. Then the transfiguration simply follows.”

“Yoga? What is that?”

“A Muggle meditation and exercise regimen. It’s from Asia and has been around for
centuries.”

“Hmm, well perhaps you could offer some book titles on the subject. Perhaps I could assign that
for summer reading or add it to next year’s class list.”

“Well, I mostly watched it on the telly. If students are from Wizarding families, they probably
won’t have access to television. I didn’t read any books on the subject. I just did it while I was
watching,” he quickly lied.

“If you come across any books on the subject, please let me know. And Harry, perhaps you could
give some private lessons to Neville. He could certainly use the help. Thankfully he hasn’t
transfigured any more of his body parts to objects recently, but he needs to concentrate better.
That is all.”

Harry nodded as he quickly left the classroom. He was glad that his lies seemed to satisfy
her.

*

In mid December, Professor Figg had also asked to speak with Harry after class. He started to
get a little nervous as to what this was going to be about. He hoped it wasn’t something bad about
Sirius. Then she announced that she also needed to speak with Hermione. Ron lingered after class
wondering why it was that his two best friends were being held back.

“You’re excused, Mr. Weasley,” Professor Figg said.

“Well, I uh…” stammered Ron.

“Why don’t you just go to dinner? Your friends will be joining you soon.”

He gave a worried look in their direction, but took his book bag and left closing the door
behind him.

“So Harry and Hermione. The headmaster requested to speak with both of you and asked that I join
in the discussion,” she said as she absentmindedly tugged at an ear.

“Umm, okay,” Harry said as he pushed up his glasses.

They quickly walked to Dumbledore’s office where he was expecting them.

“Come in, come in. Have a seat,” he said as he gestured about the room. “Now Harry, I must tell
you that I’ve had a passionate request by Mrs. Weasley about you and Miss Granger joining the
Weasley family for Christmas. It seems that she has missed having large family gatherings at the
holidays. She knows that her son Ron has stayed here in part to keep you company, same as with Miss
Granger. She also regrets that I did not allow you to stay with them at all this past summer. I
told her that it was not safe for you to spend any extended period of time at the Burrow. However,
a few hours might be permissible…”

“Really?” Harry smiled and looked at Hermione. “I’d love that. How about you?”

Hermione nodded.

“So you’d like to go there for Christmas Eve dinner?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Harry and Hermione said in unison.

“Well, part of what convinced me that it might be safe is that she promised that there would be
six fully trained wizards there. However, and this is where Professor Figg comes in, I would insist
that there be security on the outside perimeter of the Weasley house. She will accompany you to the
Burrow and stand watch outside. She’ll also be joined by an associate. Hopefully, two trained
Aurors can perform surveillance for a few hours so you can enjoy the holidays with a family for a
change,” Dumbledore said smiling.

Professor Figg had a look of utmost seriousness on her face.

“Harry, Hermione, I must tell you that no one is to know of your plans,” she began. “That is
because we don’t want to announce to anyone that you might be in a vulnerable place. Your joining
the Weasley family for Christmas Eve dinner will come as a happy surprise to Ron, Ginny and the
twins. I’m sure that their parents will tell them as soon as they arrive home. I will have to make
arrangements to use the Floo network at an establishment in Hogsmeade that will allow for your
passage both ways. But that is something that I shall have to worry about. You only need to think
about having a good time and not forgetting your presents.”

*

Harry had found it difficult not telling Ron about his plans on going to the Burrow. Mostly
because Ron kept apologizing to him for not staying at Hogwarts over the holidays.

“Sorry Harry, but Mum wants to have a big Christmas at home this year. We haven’t had one since
I was ten.”

“Don’t worry Ron. It’s Christmas. It’s your mum. What’s to argue about?”

“Ooooh,” Ron muttered under his breath. “You don’t want to argue with my mum.”

Harry had seen examples of her temper with the Flying Ford Anglia and Ton-Tongue Toffee
incidents. He knew that she had a formidable temper and felt that arguing with her would be most
unpleasant.

“She’s your mum. You should be thankful you have one,” Harry said.

Ron cast his eyes downward at that remark. Harry immediately regretted having made that
statement.

“Sorry, Ron. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you’re right Harry. I sometimes take my parents for granted. I shouldn’t. Anyway, here’s
your present. Just don’t open it before Christmas morning,” Ron said as he handed Harry a wrapped
package.

“Thanks, Ron and here’s yours,” Harry said as he handed his friend a gift. “Don’t worry about
me. I’m looking forward to having a nice Christmas. Heck, this year I don’t even have to worry
about making a fool of myself on the dance floor in front of the whole school.”

“That’s for sure,” Ron laughed as he grabbed his packed trunk. “See ya, Harry. Happy
Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Ron,” Harry said as he watched his friend leave for the Hogwarts Express.
*I’ll see you tomorrow night,* he thought to himself. *Sorry I had to lie to you.
Again.*

*

The next day Harry and Hermione met Professor Figg outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. As
promised, Harry had brought his Invisibility Cloak for him and Hermione to walk under. Professor
Figg didn’t want to take any chances for them to be seen walking to Hogsmeade. She felt that a
faculty member could certainly walk to the village without causing any questions, but students were
only allowed there during certain weekends.

Harry found that after a brief bit of walking that it was very tiresome for him to use both his
hands to hold the cloak up over both their heads. His arms started to ache.

“Hermione, would you mind helping out with the cloak? My arms are killing me.”

“Sure, Harry. How can I help?”

“Well, maybe if we walked with one arm around each other we could both hold up the cloak with
one arm. Later we could switch sides when our arms get tired. Also that way I won’t step on your
feet as often.”

“Sounds good,” Hermione said. “Besides it might help us stay warm. This wind is pretty
wicked.”

As she said that a gust of wind risked blowing the cape far away. Luckily Harry had been holding
on to the silky fabric with his clenched hands. As the wind’s fury died down, Hermione placed her
arm around Harry’s back. He followed suit and they walked slowly down the long path to the
village.

Harry hadn’t shared his cloak with anyone since their third year when the three friends went to
visit Hagrid the night Buckbeak was scheduled to be executed. This time he felt far different as he
was almost embracing a young woman who was clinging to him hoping to conserve body heat. Suddenly,
the situation made him feel very warm and very guilty. After all, Hermione was one of his best
friends and she *was* dating someone else. Still he couldn’t help but notice that walking arm
in arm with her felt natural and very enjoyable.

As they drew closer to the village, Professor Figg told them that she would hold the door open
for them at the Three Broomsticks. She had arranged with Madam Rosmerta to use a fireplace in her
back room. As Professor Figg held the door open, Harry and Hermione squeezed past her.

“Hey, yer lettin’ in cold air. Close the door already!” a gruff looking patron growled.

“Sorry. The hem of my cloak got caught on the heel of my boots,” she said as she reached
downward and pretended to yank at the bottom of her cloak.

Madam Rosmerta looked up from behind the bar and made a motion towards Professor Figg. Harry and
Hermione followed the two women into a back room that was dark and dusty. Harry figured that it
might be reserved for special parties, but that it hadn’t been used in quite awhile. The bar owner
started a fire with a simple incantation and held out a flowerpot to Professor Figg. The teacher in
return passed her a few galleons.

“Kids, it’s time to show yourselves,” said Professor Figg.

The Invisibility Cloak came off and Harry was surprised by a small squeeze that Hermione gave
him before she dropped her arm from his side. He looked at her and she gave him a mischievous
smile.

“I will be following you to the Burrow,” said Professor Figg. “But I will Apparate outside of
it. There I will be meeting my partner and we will be providing surveillance on the exterior. If
there are any security problems, you will need to return by Floo here immediately. Otherwise, we
will return here at 8 pm. Molly will give me a signal that you are leaving and I will meet you back
here.”

She looked at them both. “Are you ready?”

They both nodded.

“Harry, you go first and why don’t you let me hold onto your cloak?”

He nodded and handed it to her. Then he took a pinch of the offered Floo powder. He called out
“The Burrow!” as he stepped into the flames. Harry found himself tumbling through endless grates
until he felt like he was going to be sick. Finally he emerged at the hearth at the Weasley
household. He stood up and started dusting the soot off his clothes and saw Ron’s shocked
face.
“Harry! What are you doing here?”

“Er, surprise! Happy Christmas, Ron.”

“Umm,” he sniffed angrily. “You! How could you keep this from me! You kept letting me apologize
for spending the holidays with my family.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, Ron,” huffed Mrs. Weasley. “I thought you’d be *happy*
that I arranged to have your friends come and spend the day with us. It wasn’t easy you know. There
were a lot of details that had to be worked out before this could happen.”

“I *am* happy, but…you could have told me last night,” he said looking angrily at his
mother.

“Yes we could have,” she said dismissively. “Everyone had to keep this a secret for Harry’s
safety. Dumbledore insisted on that as a condition before he gave his approval. And since we had
kept it from you that long, what difference would a few more hours make?”

She then turned to Harry and opened her arms. “Come here, Harry! I’m glad you could come and
join our family for dinner. Happy Christmas.”

She wrapped him up in a big warm hug. Charlie gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder and started
boasting to Bill about Harry’s prowess with the Hungarian Horntail.

Just then there was more rumbling from the fireplace as Hermione landed. Mrs. Weasley went
forward and welcomed her warmly. This was followed by the whole Weasley clan and Winky giving both
guests welcoming hugs and handshakes. By this time, Ron seemed to have gotten over his shock and
anger at Harry for not telling him about his Christmas plans. Harry handed presents (lavender
sachets) to Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

“Thanks for having me here, Mrs. Weasley.”

Percy stepped forward to Hermione and gestured towards his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater.

“You two remember each other, don’t you?” he asked.

“Of course we do, dear. Remember? Hermione and I were coming out of the library together when
–”

“Penny! I need some help setting out the appetizers,” Mrs. Weasley commanded as she linked her
arm around the young woman’s elbow and ushered her into the kitchen.

A quiet pall was cast over the room and Harry looked around at all the uncomfortable looking
faces.

“I guess your mum didn’t like where that conversation was going.”

“You catch on fast Harry,” said Bill. “Certain topics become off-limits.”

“Yeah, like your last girl friend,” teased Charlie.

“Shut up, Charlie. I don’t see you bringing anyone around to meet the parents.”

“I know better than that,” Charlie snorted. “See Harry, Bill had just started dating this woman
when everyone visited him in Cairo. He brought her to dinner and Mum started giving her the third
degree and…”

“She got so frightened we think she’s still hiding in a secret chamber in one of the pyramids,”
Fred laughed.

“Boys, come on now. She’s your mother,” said Mr. Weasley.

“Yeah? Look at how she’s running Penny ragged in there,” George offered.

Harry had to agree with him. Mrs. Weasley was directing Penny and Winky inside the kitchen and
sending them both repeatedly in different directions with food.

“So Perce, how come you wanted to subject poor Penny to this treatment? I thought you loved
her,” joked Fred.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mum’s treating her like one of the family,” Percy said
defensively. “Besides, we’re having dinner tomorrow night over at her parents’ house.”

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other and started gravitating towards the kitchen.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Hermione.

“No, dear. We’ve pretty much got things under control right now,” Mrs. Weasley answered.

Hermione and Ginny started snacking on the cheese and crackers that were set out.

“Winky, I have something to tell you,” Hermione said.

“What is that?” squeaked the house-elf.

“I think Dobby misses you. He talks about you all the time and even mentioned something about
wanting to come and visit you.”

“Dobby visit Winky?” she looked expectantly at Mrs. Weasley. “C-could I have a visitor, Mrs.
Weasley?”

“Of course you can Winky. Just not tonight. I’ve got my hands full as it is.”

Harry and Ron came over and started helping themselves to the nibbles.

“Umm, Hermione Granger, matchmaker to the elves,” Ron sniffed.

“Well, yes. You can call me Yente,” she replied licking her lips.

“Who?” Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and turned to Penelope. “So Penny, what have you been up
to?”

“I’ve been working at Flourish and Blotts. I’m now being trained to be their assistant book
buyer,” Penelope said proudly.

Hermione’s jaw dropped. She then gave Ron a backhanded smack on his arm. “Ron, how come you
never told me she worked at the bookstore in Diagon Alley?”

“Sorry. It just never came up,” he replied lamely.

“Oh, Penny. We neeeeed to talk,” pleaded Hermione. “I have got so many ideas. Especially your
section on Muggle titles. It is totally inadequate.”

Mrs. Weasley turned around from the stove and bumped into Ginny. This caused her to drop a pot
full of green beans on the floor.

“Why is it that you can have a large house and everyone always stands *in the*
*kitchen?* Come on and get out of here. Ginny, why don’t you show Penny and Hermione to your
room?”

Hermione and Ginny exchanged knowing glances as they left the kitchen.

“Mum always gets a bit stressed over the holidays,” Ginny whispered. “Don’t worry. It has
nothing to do with you being here. She feels responsible for everything to be ‘perfect,’ but she
doesn’t know how to relax and enjoy herself. So we all wind up walking on eggshells around
her.”

“Why don’t we go to your room for a bit? Just to get out of her way,” suggested Penny.
“Hermione, you said you had some ideas for Muggle authors that we ought to carry?”

The three young women started walking up the stairs. “First you need to start with William
Shakespeare. Then of course, Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters and…” her voice
trailed off as she entered the room.

Harry and Ron had moved in front of the fireplace to escape Mrs. Weasley’s wrath.

“Honestly,” Ron said as he threw his hands in the air, “that’s why I never said anything to
Hermione about Penny working at a bookstore. I didn’t want her to start giving me a laundry list of
books that she thinks I should have read. Tell me Harry, have you read all of those?”

“I’ve seen a couple movies of Shakespeare’s plays and I’ve seen Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’ on
the telly. But, no I’ve never actually read any of them,” Harry said shrugging his shoulders.

“*Thank you*, Harry.”

“Penny, come in the kitchen. Penny, get out of the kitchen. Yo-yo,” Fred said under his
breath.

Ron nodded and gave a small laugh. “Hey Harry, maybe I should try to do that homework for
Divination that Trelawney gave us. Would you transcribe it for me?”

“Sure and I’ll learn from watching how you do it.”

They walked cautiously back into the kitchen.

“Hey Mum, I hate to bother you,” Ron said in as pleasant a voice as he could muster, “but could
you make a special tea for me? I have a bit of Divination homework to do and thought I might do it
while we’re waiting for dinner. Trelawney gave us a special tea to help with visions.”

“Divination? I never understood how it works, but it certainly can be fun. I check my horoscope
every day before I go out of the house,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’ll have that special tea made for
you in a jiffy.”

Ron handed his mother the tea that was in an envelope.

“Oh and I’ll need a pan,” he said as he was rummaging through a cupboard. “Can I use this one?
Or will you be needing it?”

Mrs. Weasley looked up and waved at him that it was fine. Ron held it under the faucet until it
was half full and then slowly carried it back to the living room.

Fred rolled his eyes towards Ron.

“Yeah, Mum is sooo thrilled with Divination,” he said with his voice lowered. “One of her
friends read her tea leaves years ago and she’s used tea bags ever since.”

“That was back when you and George were still in nappies,” Bill said. “She was given some bad
news and Mum’s just a bit superstitious at times.”

“That’s an understatement,” said George.

“So who’s game for letting me give them a reading?” Ron asked.

“Count me out,” said Bill. “I deal with enough curses and such at work.”

“Don’t look at me,” said Fred.

“Why don’t you two show me that business plan you were telling me about?” Bill asked as Fred and
George started up the stairs.

“How about you Charlie? Or are you chicken, too?” Ron said with an edge to his voice.

“Okay, little brother. Go ahead and do your worst,” Charlie said ruffling Ron’s hair.

“Anyone else?” he asked.

“Sure, why not?” exclaimed Percy.

“All right, I’ll do it too,” Mr. Weasley sighed.

Mrs. Weasley then bustled back into the room and delivered Ron’s tea. Harry stifled a smile when
he saw that she had used a tea ball so there would only be a few stray tea leaves at the bottom of
the cup.

Ron drank the tea quickly and tried to concentrate. Percy sat down close to Ron and clasped
their hands together. Ron’s head started to roll a little and his eyes became dilated. He looked at
the pan of water that he had placed on the table before him. Ron’s brows became furrowed. Harry sat
with his quill ready to transcribe everything.

“I see two different visions of you. One where you look very successful in expensive robes and a
fancy office, but you are alone. The other vision you are surrounded by family here at the Burrow
at Christmas time with kids at your knee and Penelope at your side.”

Percy smiled broadly. “The truth will soon be revealed, little brother,” he said cryptically.
“Who’s next?”

Charlie moved forward and grasped his brother’s hands. Ron’s brow furrowed.

“I see a large ornate sword hanging above your head,” Ron said with a chill in his voice.

“Nice try little brother,” Charlie said laughing and shaking his head. “But I guess you’re just
seeing that I work with dragons on a daily basis.”

Mr. Weasley then took Charlie’s place next to Ron. He looked a bit nervous, but held his hands
out. Ron held them for a long time and then spoke quietly.

“You are walking down a long hallway with two doors at the end. Behind one is a hooded figure
that you fear. Behind the second door there is a large fire and a spinning wheel of fortune with
many names written on it. The wheel is slowly coming to a stop with a snick, snick, snick.”

Mr. Weasley grew very pale. He dropped Ron’s hands and walked away without saying a word.

Mrs. Weasley came back into the room and was brushing her hands off on her apron.

“Arthur, if you don’t mind carving the turkey. Dinner will be served in a few minutes.”

Mr. Weasley stood and walked silently into the kitchen.

“Hey Mum, why don’t you let Ron give you a reading?” Charlie urged. “It only takes him a few
minutes.”

“Well, all right,” she sighed.

Ron grasped her hands and his face twitched. He shook his head slightly and frowned. “I see a
secret door. You are hiding something behind it. The door is opening and there is a large, long box
that is locked tight. Your secret will soon be known.”

“What do you think you are doing, Ronald Weasley?” she said angrily as she stood up abruptly. “I
expected a reading and not to sit here and be insulted by you. How dare you insult your mother!
That’s it! I will have no more of this nonsense in this house. I don’t care how many readings you
are asked to do for class, you won’t be doing any more of them. Do you hear me? And right before
Christmas! The nerve!”

Mrs. Weasley stormed back into the kitchen. Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks. Ron had grown
very pale. His mother soon returned and started ushering everyone to wash up and sit down at the
table. It was clearly apparent that her mood was not going to be lifted any time soon. It was
beginning to pervade the rest of the room.

“Come on and clear this living room and make room for another dining table,” she barked. “Oh and
someone go tell everyone upstairs to come down here at once.”

Mrs. Weasley took her wand and pointed it to the couch and chairs. They shrunk to the size of
dollhouse furniture. She then picked them up off the floor and placed them in a shadow box on the
wall. She in turn removed a miniature dining table and chairs from the wall hanging and placed them
in the centre of the floor. With a wave of her wand they became full sized. Winky quickly placed a
tablecloth on the table and hurriedly put the dishes and silverware in their place.

As Hermione walked into the living room she counted the place settings at the two tables. “Wait
a minute. There are only place settings for twelve.”

Winky was busily bringing food to the tables. Hermione looked at the elf.

“Winky, where are you eating dinner?” she asked.

“In the kitchen, Miss Hermione.”

“No you won’t. You helped make this dinner and you should enjoy the fruits of your labour by
eating with us.”

“No, no, Miss. Winky is fine eating in the kitchen. This is a special evening. The Weasleys need
to celebrate. They don’t need an elf in the way,” insisted Winky.

Mrs. Weasley came over and looked at Winky.

“Hermione is right,” she snapped. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t set a place for yourself. You
will be joining us at the table or it just wouldn’t be Christmas.”

Mrs. Weasley then raised her wand and extended one of the two tables. She found another chair
and then directed her wand to move the place setting from the kitchen to fly towards the dining
room.

Percy and Penelope were standing near the fireplace mantel and whispering to one another. Percy
nodded and then loudly cleared his throat.

“Everyone, we have an announcement to make. I was planning on waiting until after dinner, but
Penelope has convinced me that we shouldn’t wait any longer. We wanted everyone to know that we are
engaged to be married!”

Mrs. Weasley instantly broke out in tears and she ran to hug both of them.

“Oh Percy, Penny! I am so happy for you two! Do you have a date set?”

“Not yet, Mrs. Weasley. We’re looking at about a year and a half from now. I know that it takes
at least a year to get everything planned just right. And I’ve always wanted a June wedding,”
Penelope answered.

“Enough with Mrs. Weasley. You shall call me ‘Mum’ from now on!”

Percy and Penelope were soon surrounded by the rest of the Weasley family hugging them as well
as Harry and Hermione who offered their congratulations.

Ron whispered into Harry’s ear, “Thank you Percy! Otherwise we’d have had Mum in a foul mood all
night.”

It only took a few minutes for all the food to be brought to the table and soon everyone was
seated awaiting Mr. Weasley’s prayer.

“Dear Lord, we want to thank you for all your blessings upon this family. Thank you for the food
before us that was prepared by loving hands. Thank you for bringing us all together at this joyous
time. We ask that you bless our son Percy and his bride-to-be Penny with a long, happy and fruitful
marriage. We also ask that you look over each and every one of our family and our guests to guard
them safely in this world. Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Let’s dig in,” Fred announced.

Harry was glad to be sitting at ‘the kids table.’ It was far more pleasurable to sit with Fred,
George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Winky. Over the noisy clanking of utensils and food being passed
he could hear Mrs. Weasley already discussing wedding plans with Penelope. He was glad not to be a
part of that discussion. The number of bridesmaids and the colour of taffeta dresses were topics of
conversation that he simply couldn’t stomach.

After a few minutes Charlie took his knife and clanged on his glass.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” he said as he stood. “To my little brother Percy, may he and
Penelope make Mum and Dad grandparents many times over. Maybe then Mum will get off Bill’s and my
back for not finding any girls to marry!”

“I’ll drink to that!” said Bill raising his glass.

“Charlie! I don’t know about you sometimes,” Mrs. Weasley chuckled as she shook her head.

“Cheers,” as the room filled with the sound of glasses clinking together.

“Penny, when you were upstairs my little brother Ron did a reading for me. He not only predicted
that we’d be married with children, but he saw me in an office alone. Do you know what that means?
The only one with a private office is the Minister himself! Someday, *I will* *be the
Minister of Magic*,” Percy said proudly.

Harry looked at Ron whose face darkened.

“That’s not exactly what I saw,” he muttered under his breath.

“So Percy, has there been any progress in tracking down the Azkaban fugitives?” Bill asked while
passing the mashed potatoes.

“No, we’ve got some agents from MLES working on the case, but frankly I agree with Minister
Fudge. I think that all the prisoners are dead. Except of course for Sirius Black who continues to
elude us.”

Harry exchanged nervous looks with Ron and Hermione.

“I don’t understand why *The* *Daily Prophet* continues to write about Azkaban,”
continued Percy. “It’s yesterday’s news. The dementors just killed some vermin scum. What’s the big
deal?”

“The Big Deal,” replied Mr. Weasley in an even tone, “is that the Dark Lord’s most dangerous
supporters are now back freely throughout the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. As well as the very real
possibility that some of the most dangerous Death Eaters are back at his side plotting a new war
against us.”

“Dad,” said Percy rolling his eyes, “Minister Fudge says that – ”

“Edward Percival Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “You know very well that you and your father
have differing views on this matter. I would appreciate it if my son who has been at the Ministry
for a mere year and a half would show a little respect for his father who has been there for over
thirty years! I think your father has enough experience to allow himself to have a different
opinion from the person who currently holds the office of Minister of Magic. I’ve lived through
many ministers in my life and let me tell you, Cornelius Fudge is NOT GOD!”

After that the only sound to be heard were people chewing and cutting their meat. The rest of
the meal was observed in silence. Penelope excused herself before dessert was served, claiming she
had promised to help her mother cook that night and needed to get home. Her voice cracked when she
spoke and her eyes were filled with tears. Percy made some hasty apologies for her and accompanied
her home.

Harry looked at his watch and saw that it was only 7 pm. Another hour to go. Another long hour
to be spent in silence. Harry sighed. The dishes had all been brought into the kitchen and were
being cleaned by magic. Ron nudged Harry and pointed towards the stairs. They both escaped to the
quiet of Ron’s bedroom.

“Kill me now!” Ron pleaded as he threw himself backward on his bed. “I swear Harry, I am so
sorry you had to see that. I told you that last summer they were arguing every day. But tonight
took the cake!”

“Ron, why did your mum call your brother Edward?”

“That’s his first name. My dad wanted to name him Edward, but Mum always favoured Percy so that
what we’ve always called him. I’ve only heard her call him Edward Percival twice before this. So
that means she was really angry.”

Harry stood at the window and looked outside. He saw the shadow of a large black dog under one
of the trees in their side yard. Sirius is here, he thought. That’s fitting that he’s Professor
Figg’s partner.

Then voices were heard downstairs. Percy had returned. He and Mr. Weasley were talking in
agitated tones. They soon walked upstairs and went into Percy’s bedroom.

“Oh, no!” Ron wailed.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ll be able to hear everything. They go into Percy’s room, but they never put a charm on.
They yell and their voices carry up the ventilation system to this room. It’s as if they were
standing next to you.”

Sure enough, Mr. Weasley’s voice was soon heard with no difficulty.

“Has anyone approached you regarding joining with You-Know-Who?”

“Dad? Are you nutters? I can’t believe you actually think he’s risen. Minister Fudge says that
–”

“Percy, he *has* risen and the sooner you grasp that reality the better off you’ll be.
Everything points to that as the truth and Fudge’s denial of the facts doesn’t change things.”

“There’s no evidence of that.”

“Do you mean that you don’t believe Harry? Do I need to remind you that he saved your sister’s
life? And that your bride-to-be was almost killed by a basilisk? The one that Harry killed. Or
don’t you believe Ginny and Ron either?”

Mumble, mumble, mumble.

“Dad, you’re hurting the Ministry. I hate to say that, but it’s true.”

“You don’t know the first thing about the Ministry. You think that if you blindly support the
current minister that you are helping the Wizarding World at large. Well, I’ve lived through enough
ministers to know that some are better than others and, let me tell you, Fudge is damned
incompetent! He is either getting orders directly from You-Know-Who or by Fudge’s sheer
incompetence he happens to do everything in a manner that would actually assist the Death
Eaters.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. All you know is about Muggles and their gadgets and
–”

“I know a lot more about this than you realize. Keep going on the path you’re headed on and your
blind ambition will be your downfall. You’ll either be an unwitting pawn or they’ll seduce you with
promises of power. I don’t know if you have the Gryffindor courage necessary to reject power if it
was offered to you with Death Eater strings attached.”

“Dad, there was just a few scattered incidents regarding Muggle baiting by Death Eaters. The
Quidditch World Cup had its share –”

“Percy, will you tell me if anyone approaches you? I need to know. I can’t protect you if you
won’t let me help.”

“You want to *help me* Dad? That’s rich, because right now I’m trying my best to cover for
you at work. I’m busy making excuses for you, so you don’t get fired! You don’t understand how your
opposition to Fudge is –”

“Percy, I hate to say this, but you need to move out. At the first of the year, I want you to
start looking for a flat to move into. You cannot stay here any longer. I will not tolerate such
insolence from family members. We may disagree on politics, but this isn’t simple politics Percy.
This is war. You are too young to remember how bad things were before You-Know-Who fell. I am not
about to sit idly by and allow that Reign of Terror to come back without actively resisting it. I
cannot worry that something I say in my own house might come back to haunt me. Either by my own
flesh and blood letting something accidentally slip in front of your boss or worse, if you were to
deliberately give him information to help your own career advancement. I worry about you Percy, but
right now I have to worry about the safety of all of my children. That’s why you must move
out.”

Harry looked at Ron. His face was bloodless.

“I never thought I’d hear my dad kick Percy out,” he whispered.

A dog started barking outside. A few minutes later the doorbell rang. Harry got a bad feeling
about this and started downstairs with Ron following him. Professor Figg was at the door.

“I’m sorry, but Harry and Hermione must leave immediately.”

“Is there anything outside?” Mrs. Weasley asked nervously.

“Not here, but there has been some Death Eater activity elsewhere tonight. It is not safe for
them outside of Hogwarts.”

Harry and Hermione grabbed their cloaks, gave their goodbye hugs to everyone and thanked the
Weasleys for inviting them and left by Floo powder.

Professor Figg met them inside the back room of the Three Broomsticks and handed them the
Invisibility Cloak to hide under. They walked in silence back to the castle leaving Harry and
Hermione to quietly contemplate the family milieu that they had just witnessed.

As they approached the portrait hole at Gryffindor tower, Professor Figg announced that she
needed to speak with Harry alone. Hermione went in alone and then Harry turned to Professor Figg
whose face was deadly serious. She stood close to him and whispered in his ear so that the
portraits couldn’t hear.

“Harry, it was an attack in Little Whinging.”

“The Dursleys? Are they okay?”

“I’m sure they’re fine. Joseph had brought his copy of the parchment map he made and some alarms
went off. He saw that the Lestranges were trying to penetrate the Zone. He used his Portkey to
return and after telling Dumbledore, I will go there to find out what happened. Both Remus and
Mundungus were there providing surveillance tonight, but…I don’t know what has happened. I’ll
probably be gone for a few days or so. I might not come back until the holidays are over. It
depends on how much damage they did. Try not to worry too much, I’ll let you know what happened
when I return.”

Harry nodded and gave her a quick hug.

“Be careful,” he told her.

“Always.”

Harry then turned to the portrait, gave the password (Nil desperandum**)** and entered.
Hermione was sitting on the couch in front of a roaring fire with a very worried look on her
face.

“Well, that was some dinner, wasn’t it?” Hermione asked licking her lips.

“Er, yeah,” Harry blinked as he sat down next to her. “I used to really envy Ron. I thought that
it was One Big Happy Weasley Family and now I see that…”

“They’ve got problems, too,” Hermione finished. “Harry, it reminded me of going to my
grandparents on my dad’s side of the family. Except we don’t have any yelling. No, Grandmother
Granger gives you the ice cold shower approach. Say something out of bounds and you get drenched in
an avalanche of her icy sarcasm. I swear that my mum has to take sedatives before we go over
there.”

Harry stared into the fire.

“I know that your relatives don’t treat you very well. You never talk about them, is there
anything you want to tell me?” she asked.

“Something tonight reminded me of my aunt and uncle. When Penny started referring to our second
year when you were both petrified, Mrs. Weasley interrupted everything. Sort of like my Aunt
Petunia whose motto was ‘don’t ask questions.’ I never knew anything about my parents, except for a
pack of lies. The Dursleys thought if they denied the truth that somehow it would change things. It
didn’t. It made things worse.”

“So you never knew…”

“No. I never knew I was a wizard until a month before I came to Hogwarts. I was told that my
parents died in a car crash. I never knew anything about what happened, until Hagrid told me. You
still probably know more about my history than I do,” Harry said sadly.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she sighed heavily. “I was wondering. Did Professor Figg say where the Death
Eater attack was?”

“In my hometown.”

Hermione put her hand over her mouth. “No!”

“I don’t know much more. She may have to stay there for a few days to investigate. She is a
retired Auror, after all.”

She shook her head sadly, “It’s times like this that I wish I brought Crookshanks here instead
of Athena. He always seemed to comfort me in times of stress.”

“How come you didn’t bring him this year?” asked Harry.

“You can only bring one pet, remember? And I’m a prefect now, so I really wouldn’t want to break
any rules and set a bad example.”

“You didn’t seem too bothered about breaking rules during our second year when you made a
forbidden potion,” Harry reminded her.

“That was different, it was a matter of life and death,” Hermione said defensively. “For me to
try and bring two pets would be trying to seek special favours. That wouldn’t be looked at highly.”
Then she gave a tremendous yawn. “I’m beat. I think I’ll turn in.”

“Tomorrow will be better,” he said wishfully.

“I hope so,” she replied without confidence in her voice.

**

End notes: Part of the inspiration I had for writing this chapter was the hilarious movie, “Home
for the Holidays” directed by Jody Foster. If you’ve never seen it, rent it! Otherwise more
inspiration came from my mother and my mother-in-law. Ooooh, now that’s scary.

I’d like to thank the following people for reviewing my last chapter and all their kind words:
AnimeFanatic, Batgirl, E.C.R. Potter, kinicky 21, NAPPA, NIGHTSTALKER, and SamanthaMarie. There
were several people that were disturbed by the Lilith/Voldemort pairing. That was the reaction I
was seeking, because I am trying to see how great of an emotional range I can elicit from my
readers. I do have mercy, so I won’t be following up on that romantic pairing at all – so breathe
easy there.

The interchange between Snape and Harry was actually inspired by an essay written by Porphyria
on HPfGU. She had posited that Snape was playing the role of a Satan in Job. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPforGrownups/files/Essays/job.html
I thought it an intriguing idea and wanted to see how that kind of interaction might play itself
out between the two if they were to speak their minds freely. I had to dial it down a bit from my
first draft because my original instinct was to blow through the boundary where Snape would have
had a cerebral aneurysm in response to Harry’s tirade.

AnimeFanatic pointed out that there are certain patterns that fanfic writers use when writing a
fifth year story. The sequential order of Quidditch games that was mentioned does happen to be the
order that I chose. However, I am hoping that the game with Ravenclaw is unlike any other game
you’ve seen written because I tried hard to come up with a different characterization for Cho. I
also want everyone to know that Mrs. Norris does play a significant role in this story. That is one
of the three Dark Secrets that I will be revealing. I also think that even if you guess some of my
plotline with Mrs. Norris, you won’t guess it all. That’s because I made it deliberately very
complicated. Ah, but all in due time.

And as for Harry finding the pier? You’ll see that in the next chapter he begins to see Hermione
in a whole new light. Until then…



9. Christmas with Viktor
------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended. "Character of the Happy Warrior" by William Wordsworth and "Uncle
Tom's Cabin" by Harriet Beecher Stowe are both works in the public domain.

**Author notes:** I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Ama (Bonsai Mountain), a woman who
cares deeply about the injustices suffered by house-elves. I hope that my writing in a small way
addresses some of her passion for freedom and justice. I'd also like to once again thank Cara
Hicks for beta reading my writing and for making it stronger.

Rating: R - for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Nine – Christmas with Viktor

Harry spent the night tossing and turning. Spending a few hours at the Weasley household was
something that he had been anxiously anticipating. Now, in retrospect he wished that he had never
gone. His image of the Weasley family as being a happy family had been shattered. He now saw that
it was a complicated family unit. He also saw parallels to his own relatives. That was something
that he had never expected.

Harry sat up on his bed, yawned and stretched his arms. He was trying to wake up even though he
was still exhausted. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 7 am. It’s still early, he thought.
This was the perfect time to do a little Animagus practice. By the time he had finished his
detentions in Dumbledore’s office he had been able to successfully assume his animal form and
change back to human form with no difficulty. Unfortunately, since then he hadn’t had much
opportunity to practice because he was hardly ever alone and he was afraid of being seen as a
snake.

Harry was now alone in his dorm room. It felt like an ideal opportunity for practice and it
would also help him to shake the cobwebs out of his head. He lied down on the floor and started to
focus his mind on the image of the snake. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Within a minute he
made the transformation. He started to make his sinuous movements on the wooden floor when he felt
vibrations. Harry slithered back towards the far side of his bed. He saw the door opening and
someone walking in. Harry quickly changed back to his human form.

“Harry? Harry? Where are you?” asked Hermione anxiously.

“Er, I’m here,” he replied from the floor.

“Well, Harry. What are you doing down there?” she asked licking her lips.

“I, ah, dropped my glasses,” he said as he stood up.

“I just came in to wish you a Happy Christmas, Harry. I’ve been waiting downstairs and was
feeling lonely. Come on, let’s go and open our presents!”

Harry grabbed his slippers and bathrobe and followed her down to the common room. There was a
pile of presents waiting for them. Harry quickly saw that there was the gift from Ron, a lumpy
package from Mrs. Weasley that he suspected held his annual jumper, a gift from Hagrid, a strange
looking package from Dobby and an unmarked gift that had wrapping paper with dogs on the
outside.

“This is from me Harry,” she said handing him a box.

He opened it and found that she had given him a camera.

“I already loaded it with film, so you can use it right away. I didn’t think you had one,” she
said.

“No, I didn’t. Thank you,” he said smiling.

Inwardly he wondered how Hermione always seemed to get him perfect gifts. As he handed her his
gift, he hoped that she’d like it as well she had the locket. Harry had been happy to see that she
wore it every day.

She unwrapped her present and immediately gave him a hug.

“These are wonderful. Thank you so much.”

She tried on the pair of cashmere lined leather gloves he had given her, “They fit
perfectly.”

“I probably should have given them to you yesterday. Since our walk to Hogsmeade and back was so
cold,” Harry said.

“Yes, but then it would have spoiled my surprise.”

“Oh, and here’s something more,” he said handing her another wrapped package. “They’re lavender
sachets. I helped a neighbour lady this summer harvest her lavender and she made some sachets for
me to give away.”

Hermione held them to her face and inhaled deeply.

“Oh, they smell heavenly,” she sighed.

“The large silky one is meant for you to place over your eyes while you’re trying to sleep. It’s
supposed to help you relax and bring pleasant dreams.”

“Sounds nice,” she murmured as she smelled them again.

*

Later that afternoon, Harry decided that he should at least try to get some of his homework done
that was assigned over the holidays. And since Ron had started his Divination assignment, Harry
thought that he should get his started, too. The difficulty was persuading Hermione to let him do a
reading for her.

“Honestly, Harry. I don’t know why you and Ron are still taking that class. Trelawney’s such a
fraud.”

“I know,” he nodded, “but it’s a nice break from all the tougher subjects such as
Transfiguration and Potions. It’s kind of nice to have something I don’t have to work very hard at
in my schedule.”

Hermione scowled at that.

“Besides, it’s a little hard to switch electives this late in the game. If I switched to
Arithmancy, I’ll have missed two years of lessons.”

Her face softened a little at that, “Well that is true. You would be dreadfully behind.”

“Okay, let me get everything set up,” Harry said. “Trelawney gave us all some special tea to
help, you know to get our ‘vibrations’ going.”

Harry didn’t have the same luck with scrying that Ron did. So rather than using a pan of water,
he lit some incense instead hoping that would help him. The tea he drank was a special herbal blend
of peppermint, mugwort, damiana, chamomile, gotu kola, rosemary, rose petals and a tiny pinch of
sweet leaf. It tasted minty yet a tad floral, not the nasty taste he had expected. He thought of
Mrs. Weasley’s aversion to tea reading and inwardly agreed. He consciously refused to look at the
soggy lump of leaves at the bottom of the cup when he finished.

“Please sit on the other side of this table and I’ll hold your hands and try to allow any
visions to come to me.”

Hermione sat down at the table near the fireplace and rolled her eyes as she extended her hands
toward Harry. He started to breathe in the incense, feel the warmth of the fire and started to get
the same woozy feeling he would get in the North Tower in Trelawney’s classroom. He started to feel
a bit drowsy and his eyes closed. As he started to fall asleep a vision started to form.

“I see two shadows before you. You’re torn between them. One crosses your heart and the other on
your head. You’re struggling inside as to which one to follow.”

“Thanks a lot, Harry!” she spat at him as she wrenched her hands free. “If you and Ron want to
make things up as you go along, that’s fine. But please don’t try to pretend you’re seeing things
and say things to me that are hurtful.”

She stood up and had tears streaming down her face.

“You know how I hate it that Ron keeps accusing me of all kinds of things with Viktor. I thought
you were different from him and that you understood. But no, instead you take this opportunity to
say mean things to me because Ron’s not here and you dress it up as being ‘homework.’ Well, I don’t
have to stay here and take this kind of insult from someone I *thought* was my friend.”

Harry watched her as she ran up the dormitory stairs to her room. He sat dazed at the table for
a few minutes and then he slowly walked up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. He listened at the
door and could hear her sobbing. He knocked softly at the door.

“Hermione, can I come in?”

“Go away!”

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I want to talk with you, please can I come
in?”

A small voice croaked, “Okay.”

Harry felt a little nervous entering the girls’ dormitory. He had never been there before and
felt very out of place. He entered the room and saw that it looked exactly like the boys’ dorms
except that their bedside tables had make-up and stuffed animals strewn about them. Hermione was
sitting on her bed and didn’t look at him as he crossed to sit next to her.

“Hermione, what’s going on? There’s more than you being mad at me for giving a vague reading.
Come on, you can tell me. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Oh Harry, I don’t know what to do about Viktor,” she looked at him finally with her eyes
shining with tears. “I don’t even know why he likes me. I mean, does he really like *me* or is
it something else? He was the first guy to show any interest in me and I don’t even know if it was
because of me, if it was because I was the only girl who didn’t fawn all over him or if…if it was
because of you. And I don’t know whether or not he’s trying to get to you through me.”

“Hermione,” he said softly. “What if…what if you were going to a Muggle school and none of the
worries we have about Dark Magic came into play?”

She looked at him puzzled.

“What if some older classmate asked you to a dance you that wanted to go to. A guy you didn’t
know much about, but that you found unattractive. I remember what you said when you first saw a
picture of Viktor. You said he looked *grumpy*. So, if a guy that you weren’t interested in
had asked you out and if he wasn’t sought after by all the other girls in school because he was a
star athlete…would you have said yes – just because you wanted to go to a dance? Maybe because you
were afraid no one else would ask you? Would you have said yes or no to this guy?”

She lowered her head, “I don’t know.”

“How do you feel about Viktor?” Harry asked quietly.

She shook her head slowly, “That’s just it. I don’t know. I feel like I should like him. After
all so many other girls would give anything to have his attention, it’s just that…I sort of feel
like I’m forcing myself to be nice to him.”

“So you’re not interested in him?”

“I don’t know. He’s been very kind and sweet, so I should happy that a guy is nice to me,
but…but I don’t know if I’m being fair to him. He seems to really like me and I just don’t know if
I’ll ever feel the same way towards him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

Harry felt a sick feeling growing in his stomach – was he *ever* going to find a girl who
didn’t want to talk to him about another boy? Hermione was telling him a story just like Cho had
told him. He was fast becoming every girl’s best friend to talk to about “boy problems.” Would any
girl ever think of him as boyfriend material? Or was he just destined to be sought after like Krum
was because of his celebrity with no one liking him for himself?

Harry remembered the conversation he had with Ron.

“He hasn’t *done* anything to you has he?” asked Harry.

“What do you mean?”

“Forced you to umm, you know…”

She looked at him blankly for a few moments before it dawned on her what he was getting at.
“No!”

“Ron’s been worried about that. You would tell us if he hurts you in any way. We’ll protect you,
you know that.”

She nodded with her head downcast.

Harry lifted her chin, “Hermione, you’re very special. I’m lucky to have you in my life and I
hate seeing you this way. If you don’t really like him, you’re doing yourself and him a disservice.
*That is* if he’s only dating you because of you and not doing it as a way to get to me. I’m
sorry that you’re in this predicament of wondering whether or not he really likes you. It’s all
because of me. I hate worrying that Dark Wizards will try to get to you and Ron because you’re my
best friends.”

“Oh Harry, please stop,” she pleaded.

“No, I feel responsible for you. Heck I can’t even have a normal crush on a girl like Cho
because she’s afraid she’ll die if she even talks with me. After what happened to Cedric I can’t
blame her.”

“Stop that,” Hermione snapped at him. “How many times do I have to tell you? You are not
responsible for Cedric’s death. The blame rests solely on Voldemort. And I would never trade our
friendship in for anything in the world. I’ve never had two closer friends than you and Ron.”

“How about your friends in the Muggle world? Do you still keep in touch with them?”

“What friends?” she said bitterly. “I never really had any close school chums growing up. I
think I intimidated people too much. There were some who wanted to copy my work, so they pretended
to be my friend, but they really didn’t care for me,” then she paused. “How about you?”

Harry shook his head. “No, me neither. My cousin Dudley made sure that I never had any friends.
He bullied anyone that ever took a step in my direction. You and Ron are my first friends.”

“Oh Harry, I’m sorry about that,” she said with her eyes watering again. “Look at us, a pair of
misfits. Heck, I don’t even get on that well with Lavender and Parvati. All they’re interested in
is fashion and boys. I’m so tired of hearing them discuss every boy in such vivid detail.”

“Have they talked about me?”

“*Everyone*. Believe me, you don’t want to know what’s going on in their heads.”

“Well, I don’t think you’d want to hear what Ron says about all the girls in school when you’re
not around.”

“You’re right,” she nodded. “I wouldn’t want to hear that. I think I’d better get ready for
dinner. Viktor’s coming to join us.”

“He is?” Harry said startled.

“Yes. I couldn’t very well tell him he couldn’t come. Professor Dumbledore made that big speech
saying anyone from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons would be welcome back here anytime. He knows I didn’t
go home for the holidays, otherwise he’d try to visit me there. So he’s coming here for dinner. I
just don’t know how I feel about him,” she sighed.

“You don’t have to decide that today,” Harry said patting her hand.

“I was thinking of inviting him back here to the common room after dinner…”

“Absolutely not!” Harry said alarmed. “He can’t come in here Hermione. What if he *is* a
spy? He’d get the password and also information about Gryffindor tower. He would also be alone with
you and could harm you just to get to me. It’s too dangerous.”

She nodded and Harry wiped a tear off her cheek. “You could go for a walk around the lake with
him and have Hagrid walk behind as a chaperone. I’ll watch from the tower with my Firebolt and wand
at the ready.”

“Oh Harry,” she threw her arms around him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You are my
best friend. I don’t know what I’d ever do if I were to lose you.”

Harry’s cheek felt really warm from where she’d kissed him. He looked at her puffy eyes and knew
that it was because she cared for him deeply as a friend. A best friend. He knew that he should say
something kind to make her feel better, but it came out a little less cheerful than he had
hoped.

“Well, I’ve made it this far,” he gave a wan smile. “I’m hoping just to last another school year
if possible. That is with a little help from my friends. Come on, we don’t want to be late for
dinner.”

She nodded, “I need to change and fix my face a little. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.
Thanks for the talk Harry.”

“Anytime, Hermione. Anytime.”

*

Harry sat on the couch in the common room waiting for Hermione. He kept checking his watch and
saw that twenty minutes had now passed. What was taking her so long, he wondered. Then he saw her
walking down the staircase. She was wearing a floor length ruby red velvet dress with a sweetheart
neckline. She had applied makeup that covered up the fact she had been crying. She had also swept
her hair off her shoulders and tied it into a knot. Harry felt his throat go dry.

Hermione slowly wet her red lips and looked at him.

“Well, Harry?”

He looked at her as if he had never seen her before. Her neckline accentuated her developing
bosom and she looked incredibly mature. He had a hard time recognizing that the skinny little girl
he had met so many years ago on the Hogwarts Express was now standing before him as a beautiful
young woman. He looked at her and then finally remembered to blink.

“Er, Hermione…you look beautiful,” he croaked.

“Thank you,” she said giving him a warm smile.

“Is that the dress Viktor bought for you?”

She nodded.

“It looks very nice on you.”

Then he noticed that she wasn’t wearing her locket. Harry had gotten so used to seeing her wear
it, that her neck now looked bare.

“How come you’re not wearing…” he started.

“I didn’t want to upset him,” she said averting his gaze.

Harry started feeling very uncomfortable about bringing up a subject that obviously was a
sensitive one with her.

“Umm, why don’t I take a picture? Try out the new camera you gave me.”

Harry then grabbed his camera and snapped a few pictures of her.

“Why don’t we get one together?” she suggested.

“But I don’t have a tripod.”

“Harry, we can always just levitate the camera,” she said simply.

Hermione took the camera and waved her wand over it giving a few spells and charms. Then she
stood next to Harry and casually put her arm around his back. He followed suit and found himself
glancing down at her neckline. He smiled and faced the camera just in time so he wouldn’t be caught
on film gaping at her chest.

As Harry stood there he felt for the first time an overwhelming urge to pull her in his arms and
kiss her. He looked in her eyes and saw that she was barely holding it together. If he kissed her
it was likely that she’d start sobbing all over again. That might cause him to lose her as a
friend. He forced himself to resist the urge. Then he started wondering if he was really attracted
to Hermione or if he was simply longing for female companionship. Maybe he was simply reacting to
having his arm around her and that he was under the spell of her red dress.

“Come on, Harry. We’re late.”

Harry nodded and extended his arm to her. She took it and they walked silently to the Great Hall
to join the others for dinner. He couldn’t help but think about how Hermione had changed in the
last few months. This confident young woman seemed to be afraid of upsetting Krum and was now
changing things about herself. Harry knew that wasn’t right. Hermione was a spirited young woman
and shouldn’t have to worry about how anyone reacts to being true to herself. He was beginning to
understand why Ron had been so vocal in his distrust towards Krum.

Before they reached the front door of the Great Hall, Hermione dropped her hand from Harry’s
arm. They walked in to find Viktor Krum engaged in an animated conversation with Dumbledore. When
Krum looked up and saw Hermione, he immediately stopped talking and walked over to her. He took her
right hand in his and he lifted it to his lips. Then he spun her around as if she were a doll and
whirled her into his arms. Hermione looked distinctly embarrassed by this show. Harry turned away
lest anyone see his face filling with anger.

“Herm-own-ninny! You look bootiful in that dress. Merry Christmas,” Krum said as he produced a
present for her.

She unwrapped it and gasped. He had given her a pearl necklace and earrings.

“Viktor! Are these real?”

“Of course. Nothing but the best for you.”

“I can’t accept this,” she said firmly handing the box back to him. “That’s too much.”

“Nonsense. I vant you to haff this. You need a pearl necklace to go with your dress,” he
insisted.

He placed the necklace around her neck and fastened the clasp. His fingers lingered at the nape
of her neck.

“Yes, that looks much better. Here put on the earrings.”

She complied and Harry looked around to see that Hagrid, Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore were
all looking suspiciously at Krum. Hermione blushed when she realized that everyone was staring at
her.

“I’m sorry we were late. Happy Christmas everyone,” she said apologetically.

*

After the Christmas dinner was over, the professors and the few other students who had stayed
over the holidays excused themselves one by one. Hagrid was soon the only one left besides Harry,
Hermione and Krum in the Great Hall. Harry had been expecting Hermione to go for a walk outside,
but as the time dragged on it looked like she had decided against that. Instead she sat with Krum
on the couch before a fireplace and was reading to him from a leather bound book that she had given
him on famous British poets.

Harry and Hagrid sat across the room from the couple. They could still listen to her voice as
she read. It was enchanting. For the first time he understood why some of the poets that she had
admired were worthy of her praise. Harry was trying to pass the time with Hagrid, but he really
just wanted to take Hermione by the hand and leave Krum behind.

“Harry, yer not payin’ attention to what yer doin’,” complained Hagrid. “We’re supposed to be
carvin’ flutes. That’s another long pointy stick ya’ made.”

Harry looked down and realized that once again he had simply taken his knife and been
absentmindedly cutting the wood until it resembled a very sharp wooden stake.

“Maybe you can use these to hunt vampires with,” he said as he focused his eyes on Krum and
Hermione.

“Here’s one by William Wordsworth, I think you’ll like. It’s called ‘Character of the Happy
Warrior,” Hermione said to Krum.

*“Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he*
*That every man in arms should wish to be?*
*--It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought*
*Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought*
*Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought:*
*Whose high endeavours are an inward light*
*That makes the path before him always bright:*
*Who, with a natural instinct to discern*
*What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn;*
*Abides by this resolve, and stops not there,*
*But makes his moral being his prime care;*
*Who, doomed to go in company with Pain,*
*And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train!*
*Turns his necessity to glorious gain;*
*In face of these doth exercise a power*
*Which is our human nature’s highest dower”*

“Hey Harry, that poem sounds like it describes you,” said Hagrid.

Harry nodded and then noticed that Krum had moved closer to Hermione on the couch. He now had
one arm around her and was massaging a shoulder with one hand and his other hand was caressing her
knees. Harry felt the blood rising inside of him. He now would have another image to help him to
focus on for his Animagus training.

Krum turned his head and looked directly at Harry. Krum had a smug look on his face, while Harry
tried to keep his face expressionless. He knew that Krum must have known that he was upset at the
roaming hands on Hermione. For some reason, she hadn’t said or done anything to show that his
advances were unwelcome. And yet, as he looked at her profile, she looked very uncomfortable and
was becoming increasingly agitated.

“Watch what yer doin’ Harry. Ya’ almos’ took yer thumb off,” said Hagrid.

Harry looked down and saw that he had taken a very big slice off the end of his latest piece of
wood and that it had been dangerously close to his left thumb.

“Mebbe we should stop the whittlin’ tonight,” Hagrid suggested.

Harry nodded as he put down the knife and his now very sharp piece of wood.

“Keep it clean, over there! Watch where yer hands are goin’,” growled Hagrid at Krum.

Harry shot Hagrid an appreciative look.

“It’s getting late Viktor. I think I should turn in,” Hermione said while giving a wide
yawn.

“Yes, vell. It is late and I do have to several Apparation trips to make,” he said as she walked
him to the door.

“Good-bye Viktor, Happy Christmas,” Hermione said.

Krum reached into his pocket and pulled out some mistletoe and held it over his head. Hermione
blushed scarlet and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He pulled her to his chest and kissed her
so forcefully that it caused her to bend backwards.

“I’ll send you an owl ‘ven I get home,” Krum said as he left.

Hermione nodded. As she turned back to the room, she carefully avoided looking at Harry.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asked.

She nodded and they walked to Gryffindor Tower in silence. After entering the common room, Harry
turned to her.

“Hermione, would you like to talk?”

“Not now, Harry,” she said her voice thick with emotion. “I just need to go to bed. I have a lot
of things that I need to sort through by myself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watched her walk up the stairway to the girls’ dormitory. Her posture had changed
dramatically in a few hours time. Now her head was downcast and her shoulders rounded. Harry was
now in total agreement with Ron. It was wrong for her to be dating Krum. *It was just plain
wrong.*

*

The next day Hermione was very moody. She hardly said two words over breakfast and announced
that she was exhausted and needed a nap immediately after they returned to Gryffindor Tower. At
lunchtime, Harry wound up knocking on the girls’ dormitory door and Hermione answered back that she
wanted to sleep through lunch.

Harry saw Dumbledore and asked him privately about any news from Little Whinging.

“Yes, everyone is fine,” Dumbledore assured him. “There were a few monitors and enchantments
that were destroyed and one Kneazle was killed, but everything will be repaired shortly. Professor
Figg will fill you in on all the details when she returns.”

By dinnertime, Harry had begun to get very worried about Hermione. She had been sleeping all day
long. He was determined that after dinner he was going to talk with her about how dating Krum had
changed her. And how it was not for the better.

After another silent meal, Hermione was getting ready to excuse herself when Harry asked her
something that had been bothering him for months.

“Hermione, where do you go after dinner? You’ve been doing this for months now. What are you up
to?”

She looked him in the eyes as if she were searching his very soul.

“Do you promise you won’t laugh at me?” she pleaded.

“I promise,” he said sounding wounded.

“All right, I’ll show you. Come with me.”

Hermione took him by the hand and led him once again through the secret door to the kitchens. As
soon as they entered the house-elves stopped what they were doing and gathered around the two
students.

“Miss Hermione, we’ve missed you.”

“Tell us, what happens next.”

“We can’t wait!”

“What’s happening with Little Eva and Miss Ophelia?”

“Hermione, what are they talking about?” asked Harry.

She gave him a smile and pulled out a paperback book from her robe pocket.

“I’ve been reading to them. Every day. They’re hooked on a story.”

“What one is that?” he asked curiously.

Then Hermione started to giggle. Harry hadn’t seen her laugh in days and he realized how much he
had missed that.

“I’m reading them ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin,’” she said proudly. “If it was important enough to help
spark the Civil War in the United States, it certainly could do wonders for our house-elves. *I
am determined to foment a rebellion*.”

Her eyes were flashing as she said that. Harry looked at the determination in her face and
didn’t feel like laughing at all. Instead his jaw dropped. All that talk of goblin rebellions had
taken root in Hermione and now she was determined that she was going to lead the house-elves in a
similar political movement. This was a far cry from making badges and trying to enlist students to
join a club. She was actually trying to incite a revolution.

Hermione made herself comfortable on a stool and opened the book and started reading. The
house-elves had all stopped their work and were sitting around on chairs, stools and on the floor
in front of her in rapt attention. Dobby had come up to Harry and offered him a cup of tea and some
cake before he, too sat down to listen to Hermione read the latest installment.

“*It’s all nonsense to talk to me about slaves enjoying all this! To this day, I have no
patience with the unutterable trash that some of your patronizing Northerners have made up, as in
their zeal to apologize for our sins. We all know better. Tell me that any man living wants to work
all his days, from day-dawn till dark, under the constant eye of a master, without the power of
putting forth one irresponsible volition, on the same* *dreary, monotonous, unchanging toil,
and all for two pairs of pantaloons and a pair of shoes a year, with enough food and shelter to
keep him in working order! Any man who thinks that human beings can, as a general thing, be made
about as comfortable that way as any other, I wish he might try it. I’d buy the dog, and work him,
with a clear conscience!”*

“Ooooh,” squeaked one of the house-elves sitting near Harry.

When Hermione finished the chapter, her audience applauded and came up to thank her profusely.
She demurred and promised to come the next day after dinner and read the next installment.

“In talking with them, I found out that they have different chants to deal with miserable
masters. It’s in a language that humans don’t understand, so they could use it openly. I’ve been
convincing them to share all those songs and chants with one another. To compare *notes*, so
to speak,” she said grinning.

The house-elves had returned to cleaning the dinner dishes and began chanting a song that
sounded very hypnotic. Harry couldn’t help but stare in amazement at the change in the attitudes of
the house-elves in a matter of a few months of Hermione’s tutelage.

“Harry Potter! Dobby is happy to see you again,” said the house-elf as he squeezed Harry about
the waist. “Dobby didn’t say hello earlier, because I was not wanting to interrupt Miss Hermione’s
reading. Did Harry Potter have a good Christmas?”

“Umm, well, *it was okay*,” he said giving a smile to Hermione.

“Dobby is grateful for the socks you gave. Harry Potter is very generous!”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said feeling slightly embarrassed. “And um, thanks for your gift.”

Soon Hermione and Harry were leaving the kitchens with several éclairs and pastries that were
forced into their hands by Dobby and others. Harry looked at Hermione and saw a dramatic change in
her countenance. She no longer looked depressed, but instead looked determined.

“What made you think of reading that book to them?” asked Harry.

“This summer when I started talking with Winky I realized that I couldn’t just work for the
liberation of house-elves without their consent. You see, it’s sort of like animals bred in
captivity. You cannot just release them into the wild. House-elves have been taught since birth to
accept their oppression. This has been their legacy for generations. It was wrong of me to just try
and end the enslavement of house-elves without first introducing them to liberation ideology. They
have to first recognize that they are enslaved and understand the fundamental injustice of it,
before they can yearn for freedom.”

“So how did you get them to start listening to you?”

“Well, first I had to convince them that it was okay for them to take a break from work. That
took a little bit of persuasion. I convinced them that Dumbledore approves of them taking breaks
and also that I come to visit them regularly. To get them used to listening to me read, I started
out with a story I thought they’d like. They soon all stopped work to listen when they started
hearing the tale.”

“What was that?” Harry asked.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she said proudly.

“Huh?”

“Rumplestiltskin. The old fairy tale of a funny little man that helped the miller’s daughter.
Except when I read it to them and showed them an illustrated children’s book, I told them it was
the story of a freed house-elf. They did not treat it as if it were a simple fairy tale. They
actually treated it as if it were historical fact.”

“Really?” he said surprised.

“Really. And what amazed me is that they did not seem surprised at all with the idea of spinning
straw into gold. Which makes me pause a little to wonder if that is part of the house-elf magic
we’ve heard so much about. They really are fascinating creatures. They have this whole house-elf
culture that I don’t think most wizards know anything about. They meet in secret at night and swap
stories about how best to deal with oppressive and violent masters. They actually have an
underground that has in the past only been used to help them learn how to love being submissive.
They actually refer to it as ‘liberation through submission,’” Hermione shuddered. “This was
believed to help them from being violently mistreated. Now, I think we can get Dobby and some of
the other Hogwarts elves to change the message in the underground to one of ‘liberation through
revolution.’”

“Dobby as a revolutionary?” Harry said sounding surprised.

“Don’t laugh. He has really warmed to being in a leadership role. Anyway, after I read
Rumplestiltskin to them, I read some poetry to them. The book I gave Viktor, I first tried out on
them. Then after they got used to me coming every day, I started reading this book. When I finish
this, I’ve got some speeches and writings by William Lloyd Garrison, Frederick Douglass, and
Sojourner Truth as well as some poems by Langston Hughes. Later, when I think they’re ready, I’ll
start giving them history lessons regarding goblin rebellions.”

“What does Dumbledore think about all of this?”

“He’s been *very* supportive. He’d like to treat them all as free elves. He’s willing to
pay them all wages and treat them as regular employees. That is when they are mentally ready to
accept their change in status. He also thinks that our house-elves could lead a house-elf rebellion
that could lead to their liberation. He thinks they could be as independent and powerful as the
goblins. Heck, if Dobby could overpower Lucius Malfoy, then it just demonstrates that they have
magical powers that wizards need to reckon with. I want to help enlist them in our war against the
forces of evil.”

“You haven’t told Viktor about this?”

“Nooo, this is top secret. Only Dumbledore and now you know about this,” said Hermione.

“You’re pretty amazing. You know that don’t you?” Harry said smiling at her.

“Thanks,” she said sounding relieved, “it’s good to know that *someone* appreciates
me.”

After they entered the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was just about to head for the
staircases to the dormitories when Harry stopped her.

“Hermione, don’t go upstairs just yet. I need to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t we sit down first?”

They sat down on opposite ends of the couch and Harry took a deep breath.

“Hermione, this is difficult for me to say, so please hear me out,” he began.

She nodded.

“I have to tell you that as a friend, I don’t like seeing you with Viktor. You’ve changed since
you started dating him. I can see you’re not happy. You’ve lost some of your self-confidence.
Hermione, tonight I saw the *real you*. If you can’t share that with someone you’re
dating…then they don’t know who you really are. And from the little that I’ve seen between you and
Viktor, I’m not sure he cares who you are at all. You seem to be a doll that he wants to dress up
and show off. He has no idea of the brilliant and compassionate person you really are.”

Hermione looked long and hard at Harry and then spoke, “You’re right. I’ve been thinking about
that all last night and all today. It’s all I could think about. Viktor was very kind and sweet
when we first started dating. But lately, he’s become jealous, manipulative and controlling. It’s a
terrible combination. He’s wanted me to send him an owl every day. Which is silly, because it takes
an owl at least three days to get to Bulgaria. So I can’t get a reply from him for about a week.
Yet he wants me to write to him daily and tell him everything. It’s his way to try and control me.
That necklace yesterday was really the last straw.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it is very expensive. There are strings attached to that type of gift. Intangible ones.
And he disregarded my feelings on the matter and made me accept it in front of everyone. Then when
he…” she began to look uncomfortable.

“I wanted to beat him up,” growled Harry. “Only I didn’t know what you wanted me to do.”

“You were right about not inviting him back here. I don’t want to imagine what he might have
tried to do without Hagrid around,” she shuddered.

“What are you going to do now?” Harry asked.

“I’m going to break up with him,” she said resolutely. “The only problem is when and how. I
don’t think it would be fair to him to do it by owl post. I think he deserves to be told in person.
So in the meantime, I’ll have to pretend like everything is okay when I send him letters. Only now
I’ll give the school owls a break and only send him a letter once a week at the most.”

“I guess that means you’ll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Yeah. That’ll *really* be something to look forward to,” she said with a rueful smile.

“If you want my help in any way, please let me know.”

“Thanks Harry, I may need you there. At least standing nearby under your Invisibility Cloak. I’m
not sure how he’ll take the news.”

“I’ll be there,” he said firmly.

*

End notes: I would like to thank those who have reviewed my last chapter: Batgirl1801, darkstar,
katrina, kinicky 21, NAPPA, and SamanthaMarie. I'm glad that so many of you liked how I showed
that the Weasley family was not all "sweetness and light." To me, it has got to be a
complicated family dynamic with so many members in it. In answer to some questions: Katrina, Penny
was crying because she was very upset about seeing her future husband fighting with her future
in-laws. Heck, I'd be upset, too! And although it was only hinted at, you can best be sure that
Molly was making her own thoughts about how the wedding should proceed as more than mere friendly
suggestions. After all, it will be the first of her children to get married so she'll have lots
of opinions regarding the wedding. Batgirl1801, don't worry - you will see more Neville. His
memory problem is one of the Dark Secrets that I will be revealing. NAPPA isn't too thrilled
with the prospect of Ron being a Seer. Hmmm, I think that gift is supported by canon by the way and
uh, did you divine the meaning of all the readings he gave? They are cryptic, but very important in
recognizing what will happen in later chapters. Darkstar, the ambiguity of the Azkaban breakin is
something that will come to bear later in the story. You are right to wonder why Fudge is reacting
the way that he did. 'Tis shady indeed. You are also jumping to conclusions as to what happened
with the attack on the Zone. This will be explained in detail in Chapter 10, but Arabella did say
that the Lestranges were trying to "penetrate the Zone." That does not mean that they
were able to get inside the perimeter or find Number Four Privet Drive. Your instincts are right in
that there was no attack on Harry's house, but rather a probing of the defences surrounding it.
After this chapter, I must issue a warning because the rest of the story is filled with Big Bangs
and Cliff Hangers. Beware.



10. Roller Coaster of Emotions
------------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author notes: Thanks to Cara Hicks and Ama for beta reading. This chapter marks a turning point
in my story as all the pieces start to fall into place and it does make for Big Dramatic Bangs. One
after another after another. For those who are big Quidditch fans, I apologize the second game
isn't very detailed, but I promise that the third Quidditch match will be more exciting. I was
concerned more with the overall narrative flow of this chapter and was afraid too much of a detour
with Quidditch would be disruptive. This leads me to my **Warning:** **this chapter reads like
a roller coaster.** And because this chapter ends at a very cruel cliffhanger, I am uploading
Chapter Eleven at the same time. I just couldn’t leave my readers at that ending.

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Ten - Roller Coaster of Emotions

Hermione’s attitude greatly improved once she decided to break up with Viktor Krum. She asked
Harry not mention it to anyone. She didn’t want to risk having rumours start and have it get leaked
to *The Daily Prophet* or have someone send an owl to Viktor. Instead she was going to pretend
that all was fine between them, until she had the chance to break up with him in person.

The rest of the Christmas holidays seemed to fly by. Hermione insisted that they use that time
to work on their O.W.L. preparation. Harry started feeling like his brain was going to explode with
all the information that she was stuffing inside it. He now wished that they could take the exams
in January, because he was afraid of forgetting everything by the time June rolled around.

Harry was also worried about Privet Drive, Sirius and Professor Figg. The day that the students
were due to return on the Hogwarts Express, Harry saw that Professor Figg had already arrived. She
came up to him at breakfast at the Great Hall and quietly said she’d like to speak with him
privately in her office.

As he entered her office, he felt like his stomach was tied in knots.

“So, Harry. How are you?” she asked while she gently tugged at an earlobe.

“Umm, I’m fine,” he replied pushing up his glasses. “What happened that night?”

“Have a seat Harry. It’s a long story.”

Harry sat down and looked at her nervously.

“Well, Sirius and I were watching outside. He brought along his parchment that he made of the
Privet Drive security zone. As we stood guard outside, he had one paw holding onto the map. He
noticed that there were alarms going off. He also saw the figures of Lilith and Cain Lestrange were
on the edge of the Zone.”

Harry swallowed hard. “Then what happened?”

“Sirius barked and told me that he had to go back and that you and Hermione needed to return
here immediately. He had used a Portkey to travel to the Burrow. So he returned to the Zone by
Portkey.”

“How come he didn’t just Apparate?”

“Well…you see, the Ministry keeps close tabs on Apparitions. We wouldn’t want to risk bringing
Sirius on their radar screens by him Apparating.”

“Oh,” said Harry as he was trying to digest that thought.

“Anyway, Remus had been with Fletcher at my house and he had already left to respond when Sirius
arrived. Remus had to run the few blocks to get to where the Lestranges were. Sirius arrived there
just moments before him, because it was close to where he had activated the Portkey. The really bad
part was that it was no longer just the Lestranges.”

“Was Voldemort there?” Harry asked with dread.

“No. It was Pettigrew. Sirius and Remus both called out hexes to Stupefy. Cain and Lilith had
Disapparated immediately when they saw Remus coming. Pettigrew however, transformed and ran away,”
she said sighing heavily.

“Do you think that Pettigrew…” he began.

She nodded. “We think he may have recognized Sirius. I mean, it was night and it was dark.
Sirius’s disguise works for people to see him close up. But Pettigrew would have seen him from a
distance and if he saw his build and heard his voice calling out the hex…Sirius was also with
Remus. It’s doubtful that even Pettigrew wouldn’t have put it all together. That’s what really
worries me,” she said and then placed her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry. “Is Sirius going to have to leave there?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m hoping not. It may be that Voldemort just wanted to test the security
measures. He may decide it’s too risky and not try again soon. I also worry they’ll tip off the
Ministry to look for Sirius in Little Whinging. Then again maybe Voldemort wants him around to
deflect attention away from himself and his efforts to regroup,” she sighed heavily. “My house is
still probably the safest place for Sirius. I also don’t know anyone else who can speak with my
sentries and provide the same level of surveillance when I’m not there. But now he won’t be able to
leave the Zone at all. Not even for short errands. Just in case there’s any Ministry personnel out
and about looking for him. If he stays within the Zone, he can always watch the map and the
monitor. If someone from the Ministry comes looking for him he can always escape by Floo. So for
now, he’ll have to have all his groceries delivered.”

“Professor Dumbledore said there were a few enchantments that were destroyed?”

“Yes, that’s what set off the alarms. The Lestranges were trying to destroy the Anti-Apparition
charms that surround the Zone. They wanted to be able to come into your neighborhood and leave
quickly by Disapparating. Thankfully, I have so many redundant enchantments and monitors that it
would take them many hours to locate and destroy them all. Unfortunately they killed one of my
Kneazles who was the first to respond to the alarms.”

“Wait a minute. You said you were worried about Sirius Apparating. How could the Lestranges
Disapparate and not have the Ministry come after them?” Harry asked.

“They could Disapparate because they were on the outside perimeter of the Zone. As for why the
Ministry hasn’t come forth and admitted that the Lestranges are alive and well and Apparating?
That’s the million galleon question isn’t it? I believe it’s because the Department of Magical
Transportation has probably been infiltrated with Voldemort’s supporters. They are not interested
in following up leads to the Azkaban Five who escaped, but they’ll certainly want to track down
Sirius who they continue to make into their poster child,” she said muttering.

“How come you had to stay there so long?”

“Well, I had to replace the enchantments and I needed to train two new Kneazles. I brought Tufty
here with me and hadn’t replaced him. Then when Mr. Tibbles was killed, it was vital that the full
number of Kneazles were present to provide protection. Besides that, I wanted to be around in case
there were any further attacks. Luckily, there weren’t. I am still worried about his safety and
whether or not they’ll try to come after him. But they may not realize he’s like a spider just
waiting for something to land in his web before he attacks. If Sirius is ever in peril, you’ll know
because your amulet will start heating up.”

Harry nodded solemnly fingering the amulet around his neck.

“Oh and another thing,” Professor Figg said with a laugh in her voice. “I must tell you that the
Nadine repellent works wonderfully. Of course when I yanked a handful of hair off her head that
alone may have been sufficient for her to get the idea that ‘Joseph’ was to be left alone. Since I
spent the holidays there, she saw me several times. She would immediately turn about face and high
tail it away from wherever I was. I don’t think she’ll pose a problem for us anymore.”

“That’s good,” Harry said.

“Yes, I am happy about *that* turn of events and that I was able to spend some time with
your godfather. I wish we didn’t have to be apart, but sometimes these things can’t be helped,” she
sighed. Then her face grew serious. “There’s something else that I thought you should know about.
This was in the Muggle press.”

She brought out a newspaper clipping from *The (**London**) Guardian* and handed
it to him.

**Thirteen trampled to death at rock concert**
*By Craig Pallas*

**Last night at Wembley Stadium, Ozzy Osbourne performed in front of a sold out crowd. During
the second encore, something spooked the crowd and they began to stampede. Thirteen people were
crushed to death as a throng of people started running away from the stage.**

**No one could explain what caused the hysteria and mass exodus of people.**

**One concert goer who identified himself only as “Blade” remarked that, “Everything was great
and then I felt like I was plunged into ice water. All of a sudden I was filled with utter despair.
Then people around me started screaming, pushing and running. It was chaos.”**

**Pete Townsend of The Who called Osbourne to offer his condolences.**

**“That was quite decent of Pete,” said Osbourne. “He had something similar happen about
fifteen years ago in** **Cincinnati****. So he called to offer his support.”**

**This tragedy in fact was greater than the eleven people who died in December of 1979 in
that** **Ohio** **city. The blame for that fatal evening was placed on the festival seating
arrangements, which means that there were no reserved seats. This led to the crowd rushing the
stage as soon as the doors opened in order to get prime viewing spots.**

**Last night’s disaster is expected to result in a full inquiry by the local authorities as
well as the concert industry.**

**Osbourne** **announced that he was cancelling his concerts for the next two weeks out of
respect for the dead. His promoters however, did not rule out the possibility of rescheduling these
concerts in the future.**

**One other unexplained aspect of the concert was a special effect that Osbourne and his crew
deny any knowledge of. Shortly after it was realized that there were casualties, a mysterious
glowing skull appeared in the air above the audience. A green snake then emerged from its
mouth.**

**This grotesque image caused a new wave of panic in the crowd and is blamed for the death
count being as high as it is. Additionally at least seventy people were treated at local hospitals
for minor injuries.**

Harry looked up at Professor Figg.

“Dementors,” he said flatly.

She nodded. “They haven’t had much opportunity in Britain in the last few years to attack crowds
of people, but it’s certainly recognizable if you can read the signs. Globally it happens mostly at
football games and of course the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain each year.”

“What about the Dark Mark? How come *The Daily Prophet* hasn’t picked up on this?” Harry
asked.

“I don’t think they follow what happens in the Muggle world too closely. If they did cover this
story, I’m afraid of the angle they’d take.”

“Why?”

“They’d get a quote from some official at the Ministry and I’m sure they’d use it once again to
point blame at Sirius. Denying the painfully obvious conclusion,” she said shaking her head.

Harry now sighed heavily. “Can I show this to Ron and Hermione?”

Professor Figg considered it and then shook her head. “I’m sorry Harry, but I don’t think that’s
wise. They’d ask you where you found out about this and we can’t risk them knowing how close we
are.”

“But, they know there was Death Eater activity on Christmas Eve. What’s wrong with you sharing
this with me? After all, everyone knows that Voldemort is after me. Why wouldn’t you share
something that you thought might help me stay alive? They won’t suspect that you’ve been in charge
of my security for years or that Sirius is staying at your house. Believe me, they won’t tell
anyone about the dementors. Please, I just need to share some things with them,” he pleaded.

She looked at him carefully and then her face softened. “Okay, Harry. You can show them this
article. But don’t tell them about the Lestranges or Pettigrew. That’s classified.”

“Umm, Professor Figg? Does Professor Dumbledore know about you and Sirius?”

“He may have his suspicions, but he has never asked. Same thing with Fletcher,” she said with a
sly smile.

“Am I the *only one* who knows you two are a couple?” Harry asked.

“Well, Remus now knows about me and Sirius. After the crisis passed and Fletcher went home, the
three of us were discussing the turn of events. Poor Remus. He showed the tiniest signs of interest
towards me, then Sirius nearly bit his head off. So, umm, he quickly became aware that I was not
available,” she said slyly.

Harry smiled at the thought of his godfather becoming protective of her.

“Harry, your hair is getting a little long. Would you like me to give you a trim?” she
asked.

“No, I decided to let my hair grow. That’s what real wizards do. Besides,” he said grinning, “my
Aunt Petunia has always hated my hair. I can’t wait to see what she’ll say if I start sporting hair
long enough to be in a pony tail.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Harry started thinking about Bill Weasley. “I wonder what she’d say if I came home
with an earring.”

Professor Figg had just started taking a drink of water when she heard that and wound up
spitting it all over her desk.

“Harry, do you want to give her an aneurysm?” she asked while wiping up the spilled water.
“Teenagers,” she muttered.

“I had one more question, Professor Figg. Did you ever find out anything about Mrs. Norris?”

“There’s nothing that I can share with you at this time, Harry.”

Harry nodded and left her office. He found himself deep in thought about Sirius, dementors,
Death Eaters and a mysterious cat.

*

Harry waited until dinnertime when Ron had arrived back to tell his two best friends about the
fatal rock concert and the link to dementors and Voldemort.

“Whoa,” said Ron with a low voice. “I just wish that I could tell Percy about this. Except that
it wouldn’t do any good. He’d just dismiss it and try to shift blame elsewhere. He only sees what
he wants to see. Sort of like when I gave him a reading and he thought it meant that he is destined
to become Minister of Magic someday.”

“What *did* you see?” asked Hermione.

“Well, I saw two images of Percy. One where he was alone but very successful. The other where he
was surrounded by family. It looked to me like he had a choice to make. He could either choose a
path of concentrating solely on his career advancement and sacrifice a personal life or he could
choose a family life and a lowered career goal.”

“Sounds sort of like Ebeneezer Scrooge,” she said.

“Who?” Ron asked.

“Scrooge. He’s the mean old miser in Charles Dickens’ *A Christmas Carol*. He’s alone,
unloved, greedy and despised by everyone. He’s given visits by three ghosts the night before
Christmas and he is reminded that he was once young and in love. Except that he chose money over
love. Ron,” Hermione said sounding exasperated, “some things become classics because they really
are good. This is one of them. You really should read it, even if it is Muggle literature.”

Ron shook his head at her sadly. “Percy really worries me. He seems obsessed with advancement.
It almost seems…” Ron said as he cast a look over at Malfoy, “Slytherinish.”

“How was the rest of your holiday at home?” Hermione asked.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Oh it was *just lovely*. I wish I had stayed here instead. But I
think Mum knew that Percy and Penny were going to announce their engagement. That’s why she made
sure everyone was home. At least the next night, Percy was over at the Clearwaters, so we didn’t
have any arguments on Christmas Day.”

“How are your parents and Percy getting on these days?” Harry asked.

“It’s pretty dicey. They haven’t argued since, but they don’t really speak to one another right
now. It’s this strange atmosphere where everyone is dancing around a subject too painful to bring
up. He did start looking for a flat to move into.”

“He’s moving out?” Hermione asked sounding surprised.

“Oh yeah. My dad told him that he needed to move out on Christmas Eve. That was right before you
and Harry left. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them.”

She shook her head.

“Hermione, Harry, I want to apologize to you for my family’s behaviour. They shouldn’t have
acted that way. I’m sorry you two had to see that.”

“That’s okay, Ron. Believe me, if you had come over to my aunt and uncle’s house it wouldn’t
have been a walk in the park either,” Harry said.

Later that night Harry wanted to finish his Divination homework. He talked both Ron and Neville
into letting him do readings for them.

“I wish that I had known that I only had to do three readings. If I hadn’t done that one for my
mum, the dinner might have gone better. Instead, I stirred up the wrath of Mum,” Ron grumbled.

Harry still had a little of the special tea left and they sat in a quiet corner of the
Gryffindor common room for the readings. He saw a strange image of Ron looking like he was slowly
emerging from what looked like a cocoon, while Neville was surrounded by many long and dark
shadows.

“Thanks, for letting me do a reading for you Neville. How was your holiday?” asked Harry.

“It was okay, I guess. I started asking Gran questions about my parents. Professor Figg wants me
to learn more about them, to help jog my memory. Anyway, I did get my Gran to go into their room
and bring out a few of their things. She gave me Mum’s favourite perfume and my dad’s old pipe with
some tobacco. She wasn’t too happy about that or that I was asking any questions at all about them.
I don’t understand her,” Neville said sounding perplexed. “I mean, Dad was her son after all and
she keeps harping about the family honour. Yet she didn’t want to talk about them at all. She’s
just an odd old bird.”

“Well, no one’s got the corner on odd relatives,” Harry said reassuringly.

Neville nodded.

“Hey Neville, I learned some new concentration techniques over the summer that have really
helped me in Transfiguration. Would you like me to show you?”

“Yeah, that would be great Harry,” Neville said sounding relieved. “Let’s go upstairs I could
really use the help.”

*

As Valentine’s Day approached Hermione started to get visibly tense. She worried about how to
mark the holiday with Krum. The next Hogsmeade weekend was still over a week away. She didn’t want
to send him gifts that might lead him on, but she was also afraid to ignore the holiday.

She wound up sending him a plain red valentine card that said simply, “Viktor, Happy Valentine’s
Day – Hermione.” No hearts, no lace, no promises of undying love. It was short and simple. She
hoped her understatement might also send him a subtle clue that she was not head over heels in love
with him.

Krum on the other hand, showered her with gifts. It took four owls to deliver everything to her.
One owl brought her a large heart shaped box of chocolates. Two more owls brought her a dozen long
stemmed red roses and a fourth delivered a large card with a written letter inside. Ron’s face
darkened as he saw the deluge of gifts pile up in front of Hermione at the dining table.

“Excuse me,” he said as he abruptly left the table.

Hermione looked distinctly embarrassed as people throughout the Grand Hall were remarking about
her gifts. As she started reading the letter from Krum her face grew pale.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “He wants to take our relationship to *the next
level.*”

Harry looked at her. She had shut her eyes and was shaking her head slowly, “I can’t wait until
this is all over.”

“Do you know what you’re going to say to him?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s not going to be easy,” she sighed.

*

That Saturday marked the second Quidditch match for Gryffindor. This time they would be playing
against Hufflepuff. Harry had been very impressed with how the Hufflepuff team had played against
Ravenclaw in December. They had been inspired by the defensive moves that Gryffindor had used
against Slytherin and tried copying them. Hufflepuff had played a very fast and tight defensive
game. They had been leading 70-10 when Cho Chang caught the Golden Snitch, ending the game and
causing Ravenclaw to win 160-70.

The biggest difference with this upcoming game was that for the first time since Harry started
school, all the houses were united in cheering *against* Gryffindor. Ravenclaw was trailing
Gryffindor by only thirty points in overall ranking and was hoping that a Hufflepuff win would help
them in their quest for the Quidditch Cup. Slytherin was also rooting for Hufflepuff mostly because
of the long-standing enmity between them and Gryffindor. This hadn’t been helped by the Slytherin
House’s humiliating defeat by Gryffindor in November.

Harry had been practicing his team extra hard in the last two weeks before their match. The
closer the match came, the more anxious everyone became. The competition between Ron and Dean for
who would play as Keeper became intense. In the end, Dean narrowly edged Ron for the right to suit
up for this game.

Harry had tried to cheer his best friend up by asking that Ron use his new camera to take
pictures of the game and of the team. Ron happily agreed and took many candid shots of his
teammates as well as snapshots during the game. He took one of his twin brothers who had their
clubs raised in the air over their heads and their faces had nasty grimaces on them.

As the Hufflepuffs took to the field, Harry felt a touch of sadness. They were all wearing black
armbands on the outside of their uniforms in remembrance of their late captain Cedric Diggory who
should have been in his seventh year. Harry hadn’t noticed the armbands before because from a
distance they weren’t visible since they blended in with their yellow and black uniforms. He shook
hands silently with Justin Finch-Fletchley their new Keeper and captain.

The game was just as Harry had predicted it would be, fast and furious. After an hour of rough
and tumble play, the game was tied 40-40. Both Dean and Justin had made some spectacular saves and
the crowd had gone hoarse with cheering. The Gryffindors once again used the Queen sports anthem of
“We Will Rock You” while the Hufflepuffs had invented their own cheer along with using foot stomps
and clapping. The raucous sounds from the crowd had drowned out any commentary by Lee Jordan. The
addition of hockey masks to the Keeper’s uniform now seemed to be a normal feature to the game
after Justin had worn one in his last outing. Dean did follow Harry’s request and repainted his
mask to have the Gryffindor mascot of a lion’s face on it.

Harry had been carefully scanning the field looking for the Golden Snitch when he saw Hannah
Abbott the new Hufflepuff Seeker start to dive after the glittering ball. Hannah was still quite
new and not as skilled a flyer as Harry or Cho. She also only had a Comet Two-Sixty, which was no
match against Cho’s new Nimbus 2001 or Harry’s Firebolt. He zoomed in the direction of the Snitch
and quickly flew past Hannah and seized the struggling ball. The Hufflepuff team all stopped to
offer their heartfelt congratulations to the Gryffindor team as the Gryffindor stand exploded with
cheers.

During the party in the common room, Ron told Harry about a shop in Diagon Alley where he could
send his the roll of film off to and could get the pictures back in about a week. Harry was
thrilled at prospect of seeing his first wizarding photographs and sent Hedwig off the next day
with the film, a short note and seven sickles to cover the cost of developing.

*

The next Saturday, Hedwig dropped a large envelope in front of Harry. He eagerly tore open the
package in anticipation of seeing how the pictures turned out. He grinned as he saw the first
photograph with him wearing his Quidditch uniform.

“How’d they turn out Harry?” asked Ron.

“They look great. You took some awesome pictures.”

“Let me see,” Ron said eagerly.

Harry started handing over the ones he had looked through. As he worked his way through the
stack his heart stopped. He came to the photo taken of him and Hermione at Christmas. He cringed as
he saw the image of himself smiling at the camera and then turning to look at Hermione’s chest. He
was horrified that his subtle glance at her neckline was caught on film.

“Harry is that the picture of us at Christmas?” Hermione asked.

“Uh, yeah. It didn’t turn out,” he said quickly.

“Can I see it?” she asked.

“No, it looks really bad,” he said as he stuffed it inside a robe pocket.

“Har-reee, let me see it,” she demanded.

“No, um, the levitation charm made it all fuzzy. You don’t want to see it. But here are the
pictures I took of you. They turned out really well,” he said handing them to her while trying to
hide the flush in his cheeks.

“Hey Hermione, you look…very pretty,” Ron said admiringly as he looked over her shoulder.

“Thanks Ron,” she said.

“It’s almost time to go to Hogsmeade. I have to get something from my room. I’ll meet you guys
at the gate on the way there,” Harry said as he quickly left the dining table.

Harry wanted to grab his Invisibility Cloak so he could stand by and watch over Hermione in case
the break up with Krum turned nasty. He had already worked out the plan with her as to where he
should stand guard. What she didn’t know was that Professor Figg was going to be joining him. She
of course was there as Harry’s bodyguard, because he wasn’t planning on staying invisible the whole
time. Besides getting his Invisibility Cloak, Harry wanted to stash that embarrassing picture as
far down in his trunk as possible.

Later when Harry met up with his friends from Gryffindor, he was able to split off from Ron
easily. Since Ron’s birthday was coming up the next week, Harry simply told him that he wanted to
get him a gift. Harry agreed to meet them later at the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer.

Once Harry left Ron, he went behind a building and brought out the Invisibility Cloak he had
been hiding under his robe. Professor Figg met him and he put it over their heads and they walked
over to the place Hermione had asked him to stand. She was already sitting on a bench with Krum
outside of the Shrieking Shack. He was holding a large bouquet of flowers for her.

“Viktor, I need to talk with you about something,” she began softly.

“Vat is it, Herm-own-ninny?” Krum said as he smoothed the hair off her shoulders.

She swallowed hard. “This has been bothering me for quite some time now. I don’t think I’ve been
fair with you.”

“Vy is zat?” he asked sharply.

She sighed and continued. “I don’t share the same feelings for you that you have for me. I’ve
always wondered, why you asked me to the Yule Ball. What attracted you to me? Was it because I
didn’t fawn all over you like all the other girls?”

“Vell, yes, you did stand out because of that.”

“Well, when you asked me to the dance, I was very flattered that someone everyone in school
admired wanted me to go with him. I didn’t say yes because I wanted to *go with you*. I said
yes because I wanted to go to the dance and by going with you I’d be the envy of my school. Those
are selfish reasons in my book. Then you started telling me how much you cared for me. You were
kind, sweet and thoughtful towards me. All characteristics that I admire, except that I just don’t
feel any different about you than before I met you. I just don’t feel a spark when I think of
you.”

Krum started to take one of the flowers and pulled the petals off.

“When something exciting happens in my life,” she continued. “I should want to share that with
my boyfriend but I don’t. I run to tell my best friends Ron and Harry, but as an afterthought I
think to tell you in a letter a few days later. That is until you wanted me to write you every day.
That was outrageous, because I didn’t have anything to tell you on a daily basis. You thought I was
different from all the other girls, but I’m not. I’ve been dating you because I have been more
concerned about how other people would see me than whether or not I liked being with you. I thought
if I broke up with you that everyone would say I’m a fool. So I’ve stayed with you out of guilt and
a sense of obligation. You deserve better, Viktor. You deserve to be with a girl that loves being
with you. Not because you’re a famous Quidditch star or anything like that, but someone that loves
Viktor Krum because of your kindness and your mournful soul. You deserve someone that loves you in
return.”

By this time the entire bouquet had been shredded in his hands.

“It’s Harry Potter isn’t it? You’re in luff wiff him,” he spat.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat when he heard his name.

“Viktor this has nothing to do with Harry. It has to do with me. I’ve been feeling very
uncomfortable for many months and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Then I remembered what a
friend of my mum and dad had said and I understood why I was feeling so bad. He had been married
for close to twenty years and had three kids. To all outward appearances they were a happy family.
Then one day his wife felt moved by their minister’s sermon about honesty and she felt she needed
to tell her husband the truth and that’s what broke their marriage apart.”

“Vas she cheating on him?” he said bitterly.

“No. She told him that she had never loved him. She married him because when he proposed she
thought that it might be the best offer she’d ever get. So she *settled* for him. She never
loved him and *never grew to love him*. Not only was she in a loveless marriage, but so was
her husband. He went into a marriage thinking that they were both in love when in reality he was
being denied having a wife and partner that loved him. I don’t want that to happen to me or to you.
And that’s why I’m breaking up with you.”

Harry started thinking about Cho. She was just as honest with him and while it hurt, it was
better than deceiving him. He now felt sorry for Krum for the first time. He understood the
difficulty of trying to find someone who wanted to be with him because of who he was inside and not
just because of his fame and notoriety.

Krum’s mood darkened, “How long haff you felt zis way?”

Hermione hesitated, “I started thinking of breaking up with you at Christmas, but I was afraid
to. I didn’t want to ruin your holiday, so I went through the motions like I have ever since I met
you. I didn’t think it would be fair to you to break up by owl post. I thought you deserved to hear
this in person, that’s why I’m doing it now.”

Krum then grabbed Hermione and kissed her fully on the mouth. Harry felt his anger rising and he
was about to attack Krum when Professor Figg gripped his wrist that was holding his wand. Just then
Hermione broke the kiss and slapped him hard on the cheek.

“How dare you!” she snapped.

“I thought I deserved at least a kiss from you for coming all zis vay. And for your lying to me
all zis time.”

Her cheeks were flushing with anger. “I never lied to you! I never told you that I loved you or
even that I cared for you.”
“You visited me last summer.”

“At your invitation! You kept saying how you never felt this way with any girl before. It made
me feel like I had to get to know you better since you liked me so much. Instead, it wound up just
being a nice trip to Eastern Europe with my parents. Seeing you was awkward, not romantic. And then
you started showering me with expensive gifts. I started to feel that you were trying to buy my
affection. You can’t buy love,” she spat. “Here’s your jewellery back.”

She took the ring off her hand and practically threw it in his hands. She then reached into her
pocket and handed him a box that held the pearl necklace and earrings.

“And I don’t appreciate anyone trying to control me. *I am my own person.* And I will not
have anyone tell me who I can or cannot be friends with.”

“Very vell, I shall go. Here’s your flowers,” he sneered as he threw the shredded stems and
petals on the ground.

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh as she saw him walk away and then Disapparate. Harry slid out from
under the Invisibility Cloak and sat down next to her. She looked up at him and then her eyes
started to well up with tears. He embraced her and gently stroked her hair as she sobbed on his
shoulder.

*

Later, Harry was in the common room waiting for Ron and the other students to return. Ron came
in laughing and carrying on with Dean and Seamus, Harry motioned him over to the chess table.

“Umm Harry, where were you?” Ron sniffed. “I thought you were going to join us at the Three
Broomsticks.”

“Er, I know, but I wound up helping Hermione instead,” he blinked. “She’s feeling pretty bad
right now. You need to think about what you’re going to say to her and try to not say something
stupid that might upset her further.”

Ron sat down and had a worried look on his face. “What happened?”

“She broke up with Krum and he took it badly.”

“Well it’s about time, she should never have gone out with him to begin with.”

“That’s the kind of thing I was afraid you’d say,” said Harry. “Look, she went out with him
because she liked having a guy pay attention to her.”

“*We* pay attention to her.”

“Yeah, we ask for her help in classes and we share all of our adventures together, but neither
one of us has ever tried to hold her hand or kiss her. You know, treat her like *a*
*girl*,” said Harry.

“Well, she’s, she’s…Hermione,” stammered Ron.

“And she has the same feelings that any fifteen-year old girl has. She liked the idea that
someone saw something special in her. The problem was that she didn’t feel the same way towards
him. That’s why she broke up with him. Anyway, she’s upstairs and I doubt she’ll come down for
dinner tonight. I just wanted you to know so you can think about what you want to say to her.”

“Do you think she wants me to kiss her or something?” asked Ron.

“Don’t be a prat. She’s hurting right now and needs her friends around her to support her. She
might be interested in you, but now wouldn’t be the time. Why don’t you take the stuff you bought
today upstairs and then we’ll go to dinner,” said Harry.

Ron started to eye him warily, “Tell me Harry, since when did you learn so much about
girls?”

“I had a long talk with Snuffles. He knows a lot about women.”

“Yeah, I bet he does,” muttered Ron.

*

News of Hermione breaking up with Krum spread like wildfire throughout the school. The next day
was Sunday and at mealtimes Hermione was subjected to stares and whispers by many of the older
female classmates. A couple of girls actually came up to her and told her what a fool she was to
break up with him. Hermione tried her best to ignore it all and to keep her head held high.

The next day however brought the news of the Granger-Krum breakup along with rumours of a
Granger-Potter relationship to the entire Wizarding World. *The Daily Prophet* had put the
story on their front page along with a picture that had been sold to them by an enterprising young
photo developer. The Christmas picture where Harry and Hermione were arm and arm was gracing the
front page.

“Potter! *How was the view?*” asked Malfoy as the Slytherin table roared with laughter.

Harry was puzzled by that remark until he got his own copy of the daily paper and recognized the
picture on the front page. His face went scarlet.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione.

He didn’t want to show it to her, but he knew that she would eventually see it. He pushed the
paper over to her side of the table and as she looked at the picture her eyes grew wide.

“I thought you said that picture didn’t come out?” she said horrified.

“I am so sorry,” Harry said softly as he lowered his eyes.

“He’s smiling, he’s smiling and then he turns his head to check out her chest. He turns his head
and he’s smiling, he’s smiling…” Draco drawled as if he were doing play-by-play announcements.

“Ooooh, if it isn’t the little love birds,” taunted Pansy Parkinson as she walked by the table.
“I can’t believe that Viktor Krum ever went out with the likes of you. And for you to be seen in
Hogsmeade right after you broke up with him, embracing Potter in public. You ought to be ashamed of
yourself. And you, Harry Potter, are a lech!”

Hermione quickly left the table with her meal half finished. Harry looked at his own plate and
realized that he also had lost his appetite.

“You were embracing her?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. “She was sobbing, I let her cry on my shoulder. This rag makes it sound
like we were snogging in the village square. I was just being a friend to her.”

Ron nodded and looked at Harry with a low smile. “I suppose you, ah, shouldn’t have sent that
roll of film out to be developed.”

“Yeah,” Harry said with his hands covering his face.

“I can’t blame you there, mate. I think if I saw her in that dress, I’d have the same reaction,”
Ron said quietly.

Harry swallowed and nodded. “Let’s get to class, shall we?”

The laughter in the school regarding that photo lasted for days. It seemed that everywhere Harry
went he was greeted with sly smiles, laughter and teasing. The Weasley twins were merciless in
their verbal taunts towards him. The attention had shifted from Hermione’s break up with Krum and
was now focused solely on Harry’s wandering eyes. That is until howlers arrived a few days later
from Viktor Krum’s mother addressed to both Harry and Hermione. Then a new wave of jokes and taunts
were unleashed on both of them.

That week in Potions class, Snape decided that it was time to have them study how to make wizard
photo developing solutions.

“Perhaps, it would be wise if everyone learned how to develop their own photographs,” Snape said
coolly. “Then again, maybe our little celebrities *like* seeing their pictures in the
tabloids.”

Harry tried his best to keep his face impassive as the Slytherins roared with laughter once
again over his embarrassment. Hermione no longer looked embarrassed by this. That’s because she had
begun to act as if none of this were happening. She held her head high and ignored everything,
including Harry.

By Friday, it was Ron’s birthday and Hermione had not talked with either Ron or Harry all week.
She silently handed her gift to Ron and then turned to walk up the stairway to the girls’
dormitories. Harry couldn’t stand it any longer and followed her up the narrow stairway.

“Hermione, wait!”

“What is it, Harry?” she asked sounding irritated.

“I’m really, really sorry Hermione. I would never do anything to hurt you and I feel so bad
about this,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

She looked at him with a blank expression on her face.

He looked down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Hermione. You were standing right there and…you looked
so beautiful in that dress. I couldn’t help looking. I’m a guy,” Harry said with a sheepish
grin.

Hermione then gave Harry a look that he couldn’t quite figure out. He didn’t know if she was
flattered by his attention, disturbed by it or some combination thereof.

“Are we still friends?” Harry asked.

“Of course we are,” she said sounding wounded. “It’s just been…really hard this last week.”

“Come on downstairs, Hermione. It’s Ron’s birthday,” he pleaded. “His mum sent a cake and it
looks really yummy.”

“Oh all right,” she said giving in.

As they entered the common room together, Fred looked up and got a devilish grin on his face.
“Sooo, we have the famous couple joining us. Can I take a *picture* of you two?”

“Knock it off, Fred!” Harry said firmly.

“Oh come on, Harry. We’re just having a little fun,” George protested.

“Well, you’ve had your fun. It’s time to drop it.”

“I don’t know Harry…” Fred said with a leer directed at Hermione.

“You know Fred,” Harry started with a sly smile. “I was thinking about how much the Creevey
brothers have improved since the beginning of the season. I am considering having them suit up for
the next game and not make them have to wait until next year to become starting Beaters.”

Fred and George sobered up immediately.

“All right Captain. The subject is dropped,” said Fred.

“Good. Now, Ron what gifts did you get?” asked Harry.

Ron handed both Harry and Hermione some cake.

“Smooth move there, Harry. About time someone cut them down to size,” Ron said admiringly. “Oh
and thanks for the robe clasp.”

“You’re welcome. I knew you liked mine.”

“Thanks for the book, Hermione.”

“What book did you give him?” asked Harry.

“It’s one on the Royal Family.”

Ron picked up the hardbound book and pointed at the cover. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Princess Diana.”

“She’s gorgeous!” Ron said with his jaw wide open.

“Exactly. She’s probably the most photographed woman in the world. I still find it hard to
believe that you didn’t know who she was. Come sit down on the couch and I’ll tell you who everyone
is.”

Ron started to page through the book and Hermione filled him in on gossip about the Queen, the
Queen Mum and all the royals.

“That’s Prince William and Prince Harry,” she said pointing out the young boys.

“*Prince Harry*, huh?” Ron said jokingly as he looked at his friend of the same name.

“Oh yeah, growing up with the Dursleys was just like growing up in Buckingham Palace,” Harry
said drolly.

“Hmm, how about your brother, *Prince William?* Did your mum and dad treat him like a
*royal* growing up?” Hermione teased.

“His name isn’t William,” Ron said. “Bill is actually short for Bilius. He was named after my
dad’s brother.”

“Bilius? Yuck. I see why everyone calls him Bill,” said Harry.

Ron nodded and then started looking at the book again, “Who’s that with the big ears?”

“That’s Prince Charles. He’s Princess Diana’s husband. Except they’ve been separated for about
three years now. It looks like they’re going to get divorced.”

“Divorced?” Ron said sounding shocked. “Why would he want to divorce someone who looks like
her?”

“Well, I don’t think he ever loved her,” explained Hermione. “He was pressured into finding
someone suitable and Lady Diana Spencer fit the bill. Prince Charles never got over being in love
with Camilla Parker-Bowles.”

“Is there a picture of her in here?”

“No, but she’s not much to look at either. Compared to Diana she’s a frumpy old bat, but Charles
is in love with her.”

“Why? When he’s got someone that looks like Diana does at home?” Ron asked.

“Maybe because Charles loves Camilla for more than her looks. I mean Diana is beautiful, but
she’s never been accused of being a great intellect.”

Ron just sat there shaking his head and staring at the beautiful blonde in the photograph.

*

Two weeks later, Harry woke up when he heard a scream. Ron had sat bolt upright and he was
panting.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked.

Ron shook his head as he was trying to catch his breath. “No. I had a bad dream. It was strange.
It didn’t feel like a normal dream. It felt more like a premonition.”

Harry put on his glasses and looked carefully at his friend.

“Tell me about it.”

“I saw Charlie. He was in trouble. I saw fire and then I heard him scream. Then silence and
darkness. I don’t know what I should do.”

“Do you want to write to him?” Harry asked.

“I don’t think there’s time. It takes an owl several days to get to Romania. I have the feeling
that’s he’s in danger -- right now,” Ron said.

“Could you try calling him by fire?”

“No, the Floo network doesn’t extend to other countries. But maybe my dad could get a hold of
him through the Ministry.”

“Do you want to go to McGonagall and see if she’ll let you use her fire?” Harry suggested.

“Are you kidding? Over a dream?” Ron gave a hollow laugh. “She’d scoff at me. No, we’ve got
Divination this morning. Trelawney will just eat it up if I tell her.”

“Hey you two, would you keep it down?” Seamus growled. “I’m trying to sleep. If you want to talk
take it downstairs.”

Harry looked at his watch, it read 5:03 am. It was still early and he would have liked to have
gotten more sleep, but he looked at Ron’s face and knew that he needed to talk.

“Come on, let’s go downstairs for a bit,” Harry whispered.

They went to the common room and talked about what to say to his parents. At first Ron had also
wanted to call his mum, but after thinking about it decided against it. She was forever having bad
dreams about Charlie and Bill ever since they started working abroad. She never liked where they
were working and it was a constant source of worry for her. No, Ron didn’t want to add to her
anxiety. He’d simply try and contact his father.

When Ron spoke up in Trelawney’s class and told her that he had a premonition, she shivered with
excitement.

“Tell the class what you saw.”

“Umm, I saw my older brother Charlie and fire. Then I heard screams and then silence and
darkness.”

“A premonition of Death! Ron you may have the Sight,” she said with awe.

“Could I use your fire and try to contact my father? See if he can get in touch with Charlie?
Maybe warn him not to go to work today?”

“Certainly. One can *try* to change Fate. Although I must warn you, it is rarely
successful. Such is the burden of being blessed with the Inner Eye,” she said as she brought down a
flowerpot with floo powder. “Here, Mr. Weasley, call your father.”

Ron steadied himself as he threw a pinchful of powder into the flames and called his father. A
few moments passed by until Arthur Weasley’s head appeared in the flames.

“Ron?” he asked. “This is a surprise. What can I do for you?”

“Dad, I had a bad dream this morning. It was about Charlie.”

“Charlie?” Mr. Weasley said with dread. “What did you see?”

“Not much Dad. It was more of a feeling than anything. I sensed he was in great danger. I saw
fire and heard some screams. That’s all. I’m a little worried. I’ve never had a dream like that
before. Maybe you could try contacting him, just to see how he’s doing?”

“Did you see anyone else in your dream?”

“No, just Charlie.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. Thank you Ron. I’ll send you an owl when I know anything,” Mr.
Weasley said as he ended the conversation.

Trelawney then went pale. “It’s the Ides of March!”

“What?” asked Ron.

“This is a very bad day to be having Death Omens,” she said gravely.

She then spent the rest of the class talking about Death Omens and premonitions. Harry did his
best to ignore the growing uneasy feeling in his stomach.

After dinner that night, Harry had turned his mind to other things and was going over his latest
essay for the History of Magic class with Hermione in the common room when they heard raucous
laughter outside the portrait hole. It grew louder as Dean, Fred, and George came through laughing
their heads off. Ron soon followed and was glowering at them.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked.

The three guys looked at each other, then at Ron and they burst out laughing once again.

Fred tried to calm himself enough to talk but his words came through between bursts of laughter.
“Ron was trying the old ‘put on your cloak move’…where your hand goes up in the air while you’re
going up the stairs…and it just *happens* to land it on a girl’s chest as she’s coming down
the stairs….we were walking up the stairs…he tried to put his hand…on Parvati…and he got – ”

“He got Millicent Bulstrode instead!” George roared. “She hauled off and clocked him!”

Ron’s face was scarlet.

“That was the first time that any guy had ever laid a hand on Bulstrode the Barge!” Dean
bellowed.

Harry looked over at Hermione and saw she was fuming. He tried to suppress a laugh but
couldn’t.

“Dean! That’s mean,” she snapped.

“Yeah, well you tell me *one nice thing* Millie has ever said or done towards you in the
last five years,” he responded.

“That’s not the point Dean! Making fun of her because of her looks is sexist. I expected more
from you,” she said angrily.

“Oh come off it, Hermione. I don’t hate Millicent Bulstrode because she’s got the face of a
bulldog and a body like a Mack truck. I hate her because she’s mean, vicious and spiteful. I don’t
know anyone guy that would find that combination attractive. Come to think of it, I don’t know
*any girl* that would find that attractive either.”

Hermione scowled at Dean and then turned looking angrily at Ron. “*And you!* What were you
doing? Thinking you could just put your hand on Parvati like that. At least Harry only tried to
look. He didn’t try to cop a feel!”

“Don’t worry Hermione,” said George. “Bulstrode taught him a lesson. I doubt he’ll try that
trick again any time soon.”

Fred put his arm around Ron’s shoulders. “So Ron, you never told us, we know she’s a Keeper, but
*just how did it feel?*”

Ron’s face went purple and he was just about to say something nasty in return when the portrait
swung open. Professor McGonagall walked in and looked gravely serious.

“Professor…I-I didn’t mean to – ” Ron stammered.

Then Ginny appeared behind McGonagall, tears streaming down her face.

“It’s Charlie…” Ginny began, her lips trembling. “He’s dead.”

**

End notes: Please don’t stop reading now. You need to find out why I did this. It wasn’t just to
be cruel. There is a Big Dark Secret in the Weasley Family and the most dramatic way that I could
think of to bring it out was to have a funeral. You should have seen this coming as I foreshadowed
it in Chapter Eight. The next chapter explains everything and all the Death Omens that you might
have missed. Please continue as it is my first of three Dark Secrets revealed from canon.



11. The Weasley Family Secret
-----------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended. The poem "O Living Will that Shall Endure" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson is in the
public domain.

Author notes: Thanks once again to Cara Hicks and Ama for beta reading and for making some
wonderful suggestions to this chapter.

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Eleven – The Weasley Family Secret

Ron looked at his sister in disbelief.

“No,” he said shaking his head. “No. Charlie is not dead.”

Ginny stumbled into his arms. Ron’s eyes filled with tears as he held his sobbing sister.

“What happened?” George asked Professor McGonagall.

Her face showed a pain that Harry had never seen before.

“There was an accident. One of the dragons he was working with became wounded. Charlie tried to
help the poor beast and then…” Professor McGonagall blew her nose. “And then the dragon turned on
him. He was burned to death.”

“NOOOOOOO!” Ron yelled. His hands were balled into fists and Ginny backed away from him in
fear.

“I’m so dreadfully sorry,” Professor McGonagall said. “Your parents will be here in the morning
to take you home. They asked that you stay here tonight as they are extremely busy overseeing the
details.”

*Details for a funeral,* Harry thought darkly.

Ginny sat down on the couch and buried her face in her hands. Hermione moved to sit next to
Ginny and put an arm around her. Fred and George looked lost. They didn’t seem to know what to say
or what to do.

Ron was sitting on the edge of a couch, muttering to himself. “Thirteen for dinner…we had
thirteen for dinner!” Ron then looked at Hermione accusingly, his face twisted in anger.

“It’s your fault!” he called out to her.

*“What?”* Hermione said shocked at his outburst.

“You were the one who caused us to have thirteen sit down for dinner at Christmas. Charlie rose
first to give a toast. If you hadn’t insisted on Winky – ”

“You can’t possibly believe that rubbish,” said Hermione defensively. “Anyway, if you didn’t
want thirteen at your table, you never should have invited me. Besides, it wasn’t thirteen
*humans* sitting down to eat, because house-elves *aren’t human* as you keep reminding
me.”

“Stop it!” Ginny yelled. “Stop it you two. Charlie’s dead. How can you argue at a time like
this?”

“Ginny’s right,” Harry said calmly. “Ron, it’s nobody’s fault. Remember the reading you gave him
at Christmas?”

Ron nodded gravely. The others in the room turned and looked at Ron with great interest.

“What did you see Ron?” asked Fred.

“I saw a large ornate sword hanging over his head. Charlie just laughed at me and passed it off
as him – ” Ron’s voice choked, “working with dragons.”

“The Sword of Damocles!” Hermione said in a shocked whisper.

“What?” Ron asked.

“The Sword of Damocles. It’s a story that dates back to antiquity. Oh Ron, that image signifies
you are under the constant threat of Death,” she whispered.

“What else did you see Ron?” George asked.

Ron closed his eyes. He didn’t want to tell them.

“Tell them Ron,” Harry urged.

“This morning, I had a vision,” he said quietly. “I saw Charlie and I knew he was in trouble. I
saw fire and then I heard him screaming and then it was silent.”

Professor McGonagall grew pale. “Ronald, you…you may indeed have the Sight. I hope for your sake
that you do not.”

Ron looked at her puzzled, “Why?”

“For it is both a blessing and a curse,” she said sadly. “And it is something that I cannot help
you with. But right now I must go and speak with the Headmaster. You will of course be excused from
all of your classes for the next week. I shall see you all in the morning.”

A quiet pall settled over the room. For several minutes no one said or did anything. Hermione
walked up cautiously to Ron and touched him lightly on the shoulder. He recoiled at her touch and
stormed up the staircase. He returned a few minutes later with Harry’s Invisibility Cloak clutched
in his hands.

“I need to use this tonight Harry,” Ron stated flatly as he strode over to the portrait
hole.

Hermione started to follow him, but Harry held her back. “No. He needs to be alone right
now.”

She nodded and turned to Ginny who was still sitting on the couch and staring off into
space.

*

Harry tossed and turned for hours thinking of Charlie, Ron’s visions and wondering if Charlie’s
death was an accident or if it was something more. He worried that it might have something to do
with Voldemort. Harry tried, but he couldn’t shut his mind off. He looked at his watch and saw that
it was 4 am and Ron’s bed was still empty. He wrapped a blanket around himself, put on his glasses
and slippers and crept quietly down the stairs. When he entered the common room, he saw Ron curled
up on the couch in front of the fireplace. Harry carefully placed the blanket on his sleeping
friend who was using the Invisibility Cloak for a pillow. At least one of us can get a little rest,
he thought.

Harry considered taking a walk outside to clear his head, but instead decided to take a long,
hot shower. He thought of Charlie and how young and vital he had been and how cruel Fate could be.
As he stood with the water cascading down on him, he felt his own tears finally come.

*

The morning of the funeral was overcast and gloom hung oppressively in the air. Those who were
planning on attending the funeral were to leave on the Knight Bus. They had to get up extra early
in the morning to walk down to Hogsmeade to catch the bus. The house-elves had packed breakfasts
for the students to take with them on the journey. It seemed that almost half of Gryffindor was
coming to pay their respects as well as Hagrid, Professor Figg, Professor McGonagall, and Madam
Hooch. Harry had heard that Professor Dumbledore would be there also, but he had decided to
Apparate later.

Harry had ridden on the Knight Bus before and wasn’t surprised at the jerks and bangs it gave as
it started and stopped. Some of the other students had been taken unawares by this and as they were
trying to eat their breakfast, they found their morning juice spilled all over their clothes. Harry
tried to lay back and rest and not think about what was to come that day and found that
surprisingly he was able to get a few hours sleep during the trip. He was shaken awake by Hermione
and told that they had arrived and that it was time to get up. As they left the Knight Bus it was
clear to everyone that the Burrow was overflowing with people.

The Weasleys had emptied their house of all the regular furniture, save for tables and chairs.
All the chairs were occupied and the tables were pushed against the walls and were heaped with
food. Harry looked around to see Ron and his family and had a hard time finding them through the
sea of red headed people that were present. Harry then heard his name called and turned to see Mrs.
Weasley. He gave her a hug, which lasted longer than he expected. She seemed to drawing strength
from him and when the embrace ended he saw tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said softly.

“Thank you for being here, Harry,” she replied. Mrs. Weasley then left him to greet other
mourners who had entered through the door.

Harry then saw Ginny. She looked up at him and immediately tears formed in her eyes. He opened
his arms to her and she hugged him fiercely. She clung to him and Harry felt her body become racked
with sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Gin,” Harry whispered.

She finally released him and wiped the tears from her face.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I have to say a few words at the funeral. Hermione helped me by finding a
poem to read. This has just been really tough.”

After Ginny left him, Harry found himself being drawn to the closed casket that was placed under
the large picture window. It was covered in flowers and had a simple picture of Charlie placed on
top. He was smiling and holding the Golden Snitch. Harry waited in line to kneel and pay his last
respects to someone that he had come to admire and respect. As he walked away from the casket he
found that he was now standing face to face with Minister Cornelius Fudge.

“Hello, Harry,” Fudge said coolly.

Harry tried to speak, but his voice failed him. He swallowed and then replied, “Hello, Minister
Fudge,” with a touch of defiance in his voice.

“You remember Amos Diggory,” Fudge said as he indicated Cedric’s father standing next to
him.

“Yes. Hello, Mr. Diggory,” Harry said nervously.

Diggory gave him a look that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. Gone was the congenial man that he
had met before the Quidditch World Cup. This had been replaced by the icy cold stare of a man that
thought he was looking at the person responsible for his son’s death.

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” Diggory said in a detached manner.

“This is the second funeral for a child of someone in the Ministry in the past year,” Fudge said
sadly shaking his head. “It’s beginning to feel like Old Times.”

Harry felt as if he were going to be sick. He turned around wanting to leave Fudge behind and
bumped into Walden Macnair. Harry froze. A Death Eater was here. Harry had told Fudge that Macnair
was a Death Eater and had been at the cemetery last year. And yet he had done nothing about it.
Macnair was pretending to care about a fellow Ministry employee’s death in the family. *Had he
attended Cedric’s funeral?* Harry wondered. He scanned the rest of the room and pondered whether
or not there were any other Death Eaters present and if anything sinister would happen today.

“Yes, yes, our own Walden Macnair was there when it happened,” Minister Fudge said to a mourner.
“It’s too bad he wasn’t able to stop the tragedy from occurring. He just happened to be there on a
fact finding mission for his department.”

“This is so dreadful. I never expected this to happen to Charlie. He was always so careful,” the
mourner said tearfully.

“Yes, well accidents do happen,” said Fudge calmly, “especially around beasts like dragons.”

Harry realized that the room was swarming with Ministry employees. Bode, Croaker, Cuthbert
Mockridge, Gilbert Wimple**,** Arnold Peasegood. His heart started to pound. He then saw
“Mad-Eye” Moody standing near the food table and grimacing in the general direction of Macnair.
Harry wanted nothing more than to be near his classmates and not with adults who were suspicious of
him or who might be followers of Voldemort. He squeezed his way through the crowd and saw Oliver
Wood standing in the corner talking with the twins. Harry was glad to talk casually with Oliver
about his experiences with being on the Puddlemere United team. Soon they were being ushered
outside to begin the funeral.

Harry was unsure of what to expect. He knew that a wizard funeral must be different from the
standard Muggle funeral, but he wasn’t quite sure how. Harry had never attended any funerals before
because the Dursleys hadn’t wanted to admit to the greater world that they had such an “abnormal”
nephew living with them. The few times that they attended such events, Harry had stayed with Old
Mrs. Figg. He gave a half-smile to himself remembering that and how surprised he was when she
revealed her true self to him last summer. No, the only knowledge Harry had of funerals was from
what he had seen on television. He was sure that this would be different.

Harry joined the crowd of people outside that were gathered around and waiting. Soon the casket
was wheeled outside the house. Bill, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and another tall red headed man were
the pallbearers. They lifted the casket to the waiting bed of a wagon that was covered with
flowers. Harry assumed that the sixth man must be a cousin. The horse-drawn wagon was followed by
the cortege who walked slowly through a light blanket of snow. Harry began to recognize the path
being taken as the same one they had taken the morning before the Quidditch World Cup. They were
slowly making their way to Stoatshead Hill.

Along the outside of the procession there were people carrying torches every five metres or so.
The torches didn’t give off light, but instead a heady smell of incense. Their powers became clear
as the cortege entered the village proper. Harry had worried about them being revealed to Muggles,
because very few in attendance were wearing any clothes that might be considered Mugglewear. They
walked down the centre of town on a narrow cobblestone road that was only used for foot traffic. As
the villagers came near the procession, they seemed to sniff the air and turn around as if they had
suddenly remembered something they had to do elsewhere. No one interrupted or even recognized that
a long line of witches and wizards were walking through the town. The hoof beats of the horse and
the wheels on the wagon gave a clop, clop, clop as they went over the uneven cobblestone.
Otherwise, not a sound was heard as they made their way through Ottery St. Catchpole.

As they neared Stoatshead Hill, Harry saw that there were large stones standing in a circle. He
had not noticed them before because the other times when he was there it was before dawn. The
stones would have appeared as dark shadows in the distance. The wagon came to a stop near the side
of the large hill in front of a stand where two large stones were supporting a third stone balanced
precariously above them. Harry was aware that they had now come upon hallowed ground.

Many people came forward and spoke movingly of Charlie. His love of life, his love of adventure
and his devotion towards animals. His old Quidditch teammates spoke of his exploits on the broom
and his irrepressible charm. His co-workers from Romania spoke of how skilled Charlie had been with
dragons and that he was someone that they had depended upon.

Dumbledore came forward and looked weary. “I have been to far too many funerals in my lifetime.
I find that one of the most painful things is to outlive those who are cut down in the prime of
their lives. Charlie Weasley had such promise and such potential. He truly had much more to give to
this world. We will all suffer from the loss of such a man.”

As Dumbledore walked back to the crowd, Ginny came forward. She had found a sense of inner calm
and peace and spoke with a strong and clear voice.

“One of my earliest memories of Charlie was when I was a little girl. I had found a feral cat in
our backyard that had a batch of newborn kittens. One had somehow gotten separated from its mother.
I wanted to move the kitten back with its litter mates, but Charlie stopped me. He said that
because the cat was feral, the mother wouldn’t accept the kitten if it smelled of humans. Instead,
he gently picked up the kitten and we brought it back to our house. Together we nursed the poor
thing and became its surrogate mother. Ginger was a wonderful loving pet that graced our household
for many years, but she would have died that day if Charlie hadn’t been there and knew what to
do.

“As long as we remember Charlie, as long as we keep him in our hearts and in our minds, as long
as we speak of him with words or even with a touch – his spirit will always be with us. I’d like to
now share with you a poem that my friend Hermione Granger found. It is by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

*“O Living Will that Shalt Endure*
*When all that seems shall suffer shock,*
*Rise in a spiritual rock,*
*Flow thro’ our deeds and make them pure,*
*That we may lift from out of dust*
*A voice as unto him that hears,*
*A cry above the conquer’d years*
*To one that with us works, and trust,*
*With faith that comes of self-control,*
*The truths that never can be proved*
*Until we close with all we loved,*
*And all we flow from, soul in soul.*

Ginny leaned down and kissed the casket. “Charlie, you will always be with me in my heart. I
love you.” Mrs. Weasley started sobbing and Bill put his arm around his mother. Ginny walked back
to stand next to her family.

Suddenly, something made the hair on the back of Harry’s neck stand on end. He looked around and
didn’t see anything suspicious at first. It was more of a sensation than anything else. Somehow he
knew that someone was hiding behind one of the large standing stones in the distance. As he stared
at it intently, he saw a movement by a hooded and masked figure holding a wand. Harry instinctively
reached inside his pocket for his wand, but as he withdrew it the figure had Disapparated. Screams
started coming from the crowd and Harry turned back to see that the flowers, which had been draped
over Charlie’s casket had been transfigured into adders. The snakes were dropping off the casket
and were moving quickly towards the Weasley family. One was dangerously close to Ginny.

“Stop it!” Harry hissed.

The snakes immediately responded to his voice and they curled up as if they were going to sleep.
Harry without thinking waved his extended wand and transfigured them back to being flowers once
again. All eyes had turned towards him and they were looking at him with great suspicion. Harry saw
that Minister Fudge had a strange smile on his face. Mrs. Weasley was clutching Mr. Weasley’s arm
and looked very frightened.

“I-I saw a hooded figure behind that stone, but they’re gone now,” Harry said as he pointed in
its direction. “When I saw them drawing their wand, I knew there would be trouble…”

Mr. Weasley nodded and sighed, “Yes, well that is all over now. Thank you, Harry. That concludes
the public portion of the funeral. I want to thank everyone for coming and showing your love and
support for our family during this difficult time. The family will now be taking Charlie to his
final resting place.”

Mr. Weasley then walked forward and tapped his wand into the centre portion of a labryrinth that
was carved into the overhanging stone. The two stones swung out magically and a narrow passageway
was now exposed. The pallbearers all picked up handles of the casket and brought it close to the
entrance. Then Mr. Weasley used his wand to levitate the casket and he began to navigate it through
the tight opening.

Bill came up behind Harry and Hermione and said softly, “Please follow. You two are like family
and Ron will need you in there.”

Harry and Hermione followed the family into the dolmen. As they entered the burial chamber,
Harry saw that it was dimly lit by torches that had become magically lit in response to the
presence of wizards. The walls had many nameplates of the dead. Harry thought that there must be at
least thirty people already buried in the tomb. Mr. Weasley lowered the casket in front of an empty
grave marker, he then stepped forward and used his wand to carve out an epitaph in the stone.

**Charles Weasley**
**Beloved Son**
**1967 - 1996**

Harry moved forward to stand next to Ron. He was startled when Ron gripped him by the arm. All
the colour had drained from Ron’s face. He was staring at the grave marker next to Charlie’s.

**David Weasley**
**Beloved Son**
**1970-1979**

“How could you…,” began Ron.

Mr. Weasley looked at his son and said firmly, “This *is not* the time.”

Bill squeezed Ron’s shoulder and whispered, “Later, Ron. *Don’t make a scene*.”

Ron nodded, but Harry saw that his friend was shaking violently. It was clear that Ron was ready
to explode. He had another brother that he had never been told about.

Fred and George exchanged puzzled looks as they heard this exchange. Then Ginny saw what Ron was
fixated on. Her jaw opened wide and she drew the twins’ attention to the marker. The three of them
cast hurt looks at their parents. Mrs. Weasley covered her face in her hands and then turned her
back in shame. When Percy noticed what his siblings were focused on, his face got a strange
expression on it. He looked as if he were remembering something long forgotten. Penny stood dazed
and confused at the reactions of the Weasley children.

The marker was then removed revealing an empty chamber. The casket was levitated and placed
inside. As the chamber was sealed and the new grave marker was set in place, Mr. Weasley waved his
wand. He said a few words to forever seal the grave and to place a curse on anyone who would dare
to disinter its contents. Harry shivered at the thought. He then began to wonder where it was that
his own parents lay buried.

As they emerged from the darkened chamber, Harry saw that Professor Figg was waiting for them
outside. “The rest of the students walked back to town to catch the Knight Bus. I stayed after so
that I can accompany you and Hermione back to school. You two can use the Weasley’s hearth to Floo
back like we did at Christmas.”

Harry nodded. He could tell that there was going to be a family meltdown as soon as they arrived
back at the Burrow. Everyone trudged the distance back to the Weasley household in silence. As they
approached the house, Percy said good-bye to Penny and promised to follow her shortly. Harry
wondered if they would be able to leave before the fireworks happened. He wasn’t sure if he wanted
to witness it or not. It might be easier for Ron to not have to retell his friends, but then again
he might not want them to see the family fight. Harry looked at Hermione, she looked as
uncomfortable as he felt.

As soon as they entered the house, Ron could no longer hold in his anger. The question of
whether or not Harry and Hermione would see the confrontation was settled quickly.

“When were you going to tell us? NEVER?” Ron demanded.

“Ron, you don’t understand…” said his father.

“Damn right, I don’t understand. I can see why you didn’t tell me when I was three or five, but
Dad I’m sixteen! Did you think I couldn’t handle knowing that I have *two* *dead
brothers*?”

“Ron, this is very painful – ”

“So is finding out that your parents have been lying to you all your life!”

“What happened Dad? How did David die?” asked George quietly.

“He was murdered,” Mr. Weasley said softly. “It happened after the Dark Lord tried to recruit
me. After I refused, he killed David to punish me. David was staying over at his friend Mikey
McKinnon’s house. Everyone there was killed and there was the Dark Mark hanging over it.”

Mrs. Weasley blew her nose and left the room.

Harry then remembered what Mr. Weasley had said after the chaos of the Quidditch World Cup. He
had said that coming home to see a Dark Mark hanging over your house was everyone’s worst fear. Now
Harry realized that it was something that Mr. Weasley had seen firsthand and that it signified the
death of one of his children. Harry shuddered at the thought.

“How come the McKinnons were killed and not us?” asked Fred.

Mr. Weasley took off his glasses and wiped his face with a handkerchief. “I think he still
wanted me to join his forces. This was his way of warning me that if I didn’t join him, that more
of my children were endangered. His way of thinking is that it’s far more painful to cut off one
finger at a time than the whole hand at once.”

Ginny grimaced at that and then asked, “Why were you so important to him, Dad? It doesn’t seem
that he’d be all that interested in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.”

“That’s because I wasn’t working there at the time. I was a staff member of the Council of
Magical Law. After David’s murder, I put in for a transfer. That decision wound up ending any
chance I had for any real career advancement, but my family’s safety was worth it to me.”

Percy had a faraway expression on his face. Then he turned to his father, “So *that’s* what
you meant at Christmas by saying you knew more about this than I realized. I can barely remember
David. I haven’t thought of him in years and now some of my early childhood memories make more
sense. Dad, why didn’t you remind me of him? Why didn’t you tell *me* what happened?”

“Your mother and I have disagreed on this point,” Mr. Weasley said sighing heavily. “She’s
always felt that it was better to not bring up the subject. It’s very painful for her. Ron, this
happened when she was pregnant with you. She almost miscarried because of it. You were the only one
who was born premature and then you were born with a caul over your face. You weren’t breathing
when you were first born. Anyway, your mother can be very superstitious. She was afraid that the
Dark Lord had cursed her pregnancy. When you finally began to thrive she insisted that we not talk
about David ever again, lest we endanger it happening to another child.”

“Do you think Charlie’s death is related to You-Know-Who?” asked Ron.

Mr. Weasley slowly nodded his head. “Yes, I was approached again. This time I’m a senior
ministry official. It doesn’t matter that I’m not in an important department, I’m powerful because
I know everyone. That’s why he wants me, he also wants all of you. I’ll never join and I’ll do
everything I can to protect all my children.”

Percy stood and crossed the room. His face looked very confused as if he were fighting within
himself. He then put on his cloak and left the house, the back door clanged as it closed behind
him.

“That’s what my vision was for you,” Ron began. “I saw one door where there was a hooded man you
were afraid of, the Dark Lord. The other door held a Wheel of Fortune with our names on it. It
meant that one of us had to die if you refused him.”

Mr. Weasley held his face in his hands.

Hermione was standing in the background and then she turned to Mr. Weasley.

“Arthur, Bill, Charlie,” she said slowly ticking the names off on her fingers. “David, Edward,
Fred, George…is Ron’s first name Ronald or is it something else?”

“It is Ronald, but before David’s death we were planning on naming him Harold,” he said giving a
hollow laugh. “Molly thought that if we changed our naming scheme that it would break the bad
luck.” Then he gestured towards Harry, “And since we would have called him Harry for short, it’s
probably a good thing we named him Ron. It would have been pretty confusing telling you two apart
if you had the same name.”

Harry started counting on his fingers and looked up at Ron.

“Ron, you’re a Seventh Son,” Harry said in awe, “*and* you were born with a caul. Remember
what Trelawney said about that in class? Both are omens that you will have the Sight.”

Ron’s eyes grew wide and swallowed hard.

“You should have told me,” he said firmly to his father. Ron abruptly left the table and went to
his room.

Professor Figg entered the house and spoke to Harry and Hermione. “It’s time for us to go back,
please say your good-byes.”

They nodded and gave some uncomfortable hugs to all the Weasleys that were downstairs as well as
their condolences. Harry went cautiously upstairs to knock on Ron’s door.

“Ron, we have to leave now,” Harry said.

“I’ll see you back at school,” was the muffled reply.

Harry walked downstairs with a heavy heart. As he stepped up to the fireplace and threw the Floo
powder into the flames, he thought quietly about how much had changed in Ron’s life in the span of
a few days. Things would never be the same for him.

After they walked from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts in silence, Harry thanked Professor Figg for
accompanying them back.

“Certainly. Providing security for Hogwarts students is part of my job description,” she said
kindly as she walked away.

Harry looked at his watch. “Hermione, we’ve got a little time before dinner. Why don’t we take a
little walk by the lake?”

“Sorry, Harry. I feel like I’ve been outside all day. My feet are like icicles. I’d just like to
go inside and thaw out.”

“I need to talk with you. Alone.”

“Okay, then. What’s a few more minutes of being cold?” she said shivering.

Harry rubbed the outside of her arms trying to warm her up, “Is that better?”

“A little. I saw you talking with Fudge earlier. What happened?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk with you about. I heard Fudge say that Macnair was there at the
time Charlie was killed. He was supposedly there on Ministry business, but I don’t believe that. I
think he did something to cause Charlie’s death. When I saw him, I knew something bad was going to
happen today. During the service, I just had a funny feeling and turned to look at the stone in the
distance.”

“If you hadn’t been so quick to act, someone could have been bitten.”

“There’s something else that I need to tell you about. At Christmas, Ron also gave his mum a
reading.”

“What did he see?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“He saw a secret door and knew that she was hiding something behind it. Ron saw a long locked
box and said that her secret would soon be revealed.”

“Oh Harry,” she said shaking her head. “You think that David’s death was her secret?”

“Yeah,” Harry said nodding. “She got really upset with Ron. That’s part of what set her into
such a foul mood that night. He reminded his mum of her most painful memory and her greatest
fear.”

“I don’t even know what to think anymore,” she said sadly.

“Neither do I,” Harry said looking her in the eyes. “I only know that I couldn’t bear it if
anything happened to you or Ron. All I could think of on our walk back here were the essays that we
wrote for Figg’s class last fall. I’m afraid for both of you.”

“Harry, I’d be a target for attack even if I wasn’t your good friend. Just being Muggle-born is
reason enough for the Dark Lord to want to kill me. Sometimes I wish that I never had heard of
Hogwarts,” Hermione said quietly. “If I had just stayed a plain Muggle, I wouldn’t know about all
of this…”

“Yeah, except that there are horrors in the Muggle world, too. Muggers, rapists, psycho killers,
recognizing those dangers is just a part of growing up,” Harry said.

“On that cheery thought, let’s go to dinner. Maybe they’ll have something nice and warm.”

“I could go for a nice hot chocolate.”

“Now you’re talking,” she said smiling. “If we can’t get any for dinner, come with me to the
kitchens later and we’ll get some from the house-elves.”

*

The next day Harry was afraid of what *The Daily Prophet* might hold. He knew that there
would be some coverage of Charlie Weasley’s funeral and probably a mention about the snake
incident, but he had not in his wildest imagination expected to read the article that was on the
front page.

**Fudge presses for expulsion of Potter**

*By Hearst Seldes, Managing Editor*

**Minister Cornelius Fudge filed an emergency petition yesterday with the Hogwarts Board of
Governors regarding Harry Potter. The fifteen-year old wizard was attending the funeral of Charles
Weasley when he was witnessed by over two hundred witches and wizards performing magic outside of
school grounds. Fudge felt that this was a clear and flagrant violation of the Decree for the
Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C.**

**Charles Weasley was the son of Arthur Weasley, the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts
Office. Charles Weasley had worked in** **Romania** **as a dragon handler. He was killed last
week after a fatal occupational accident that occurred with a wounded Hungarian Horntail.**

**The incident regarding Potter occurred when the flowers that were on the casket were
magically transfigured into adders, a poisonous snake common to** **England****. The snakes
were reportedly coming close to attacking the Weasley family members. As the snakes came close to
the family, Potter revealed for the whole funeral party his ability to speak with snakes. He hissed
some command and they curled up to go to sleep. He then waved his wand and in the blink of an eye,
transfigured them back to flowers.**

**Potter claimed that he had witnessed a hooded and masked intruder invade the sanctity of the
funeral site and perform that heinous act of transfiguration. So far, no one has come forward to
corroborate Potter’s story. He was witnessed by many of the mourners as having brandished his wand
prior to the initial transformation. Many of those in attendance have told this reporter that it
appeared that Potter performed two transfiguration spells. The reason he would do such a thing is
not clear, especially to the Weasleys, a family that supposedly has treated him as if he were
another son.**

**Fudge also mentioned that Potter had been given an official warning from the Ministry after
his first year about performing spellwork outside of school.**

**This was followed by the embarrassing incident of both Harry Potter and his good friend
Ronald Weasley, (another son by Arthur) having once again flouted the Underage Restrictions by
flying a bewitched Ford Anglia to Hogwarts rather than simply taking the Hogwarts Express to school
like every other student. That incident led to the punishment of Arthur Weasley being fined fifty
galleons for ironically violating the very laws regarding misuse of Muggle artefacts that he had
championed.**

**Then the following summer, two members of the Accidental Magical Reversal Department were
dispatched to the house of Harry Potter’s Muggle relatives where a woman had to be punctured
because he had “accidentally” blown her up with his rage.**

**The Daily Prophet has also covered extensively the hexing incident that Potter and others had
done last year on the way home on the Hogwarts Express. Potter was the only one disciplined for
that incident, but it was once again a flouting of the law.**

**The timeline for the hearing of this complaint has not been set, but Minister Fudge is
pressing for the Board of Governors to set an emergency meeting to take up this issue. Fudge feels
that such an act at the funeral of a Ministry family member is unforgivable. He wants to see swift
and severe punishment for Harry Potter.**

Harry put the paper down and was stunned. He now knew what the strange smile on Fudge’s lips was
about. He had been set up to fail. Voldemort wanted to get Harry away from the protection of
Dumbledore and thought that expulsion would leave him wandless, weak and vulnerable.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said with great concern in her voice. “I never thought of this
happening.”

“Neither did I. I need to speak with Dumbledore,” he said as he excused himself from the
table.

Harry walked immediately up to the head table and Dumbledore nodded at him. They walked together
to the room off the side of the Great Hall.

“Have a seat Harry,” Dumbledore said.

“I swear that there was a Death Eater there yesterday. I didn’t transfigure the flowers into
snakes, only the reverse,” Harry said pleading.

“I know, I know. I believe you, Harry. Unfortunately, it seems that the Minister of Magic wants
to point all blame on you, myself and Sirius.”

“What can I do?”

“Well, even though Fudge asked for an emergency meeting, I doubt that this will occur. Very
little happens quickly with bureaucracies. The only time that they moved quickly was during your
second year after several attacks on students. You remember that one of the governors, Lucius
Malfoy pressured them into signing a letter calling for my removal?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, after that incident they have taken a decidedly different pace with things. I would
recommend that the first thing you do is to write down everything you can remember from yesterday.
Everyone you spoke with at the funeral from the time you entered the Burrow until the time the
snakes were returned to flower form. Document everything. You should ask the same of everyone else
that you know that was in attendance. The sooner, the better. As time goes on the memories fade.
There is one thing that may be a problem for you though,” Dumbledore said seriously.

“What is that?” Harry asked.

“Over half of the Board of Governors were there in attendance. They are all eyewitnesses. Except
of course none of them were close to the front, so none of them actually saw the snakes. They’ve
only heard about them. They will however, have heard you speak in Parseltongue and will have seen
you wave your wand.”

“What’ll I do if I get expelled?” Harry asked.

“We’ll worry about that if it happens, but I really don’t see that happening. The Minister of
Magic does not have the political support that he once did and contrary to what you might think by
reading The Daily Prophet, I actually get along quite well with the Governors. I have a lot of
influence with them. I see no reason for you to be expelled. You simply reacted quickly to a
dangerous situation. Although if you had stopped when the snakes were curled up and harmless and
left it for someone else to transfigure them back, you wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

Harry nodded, “I just wanted to help.”

“I know. You’re a fine young man and your heart is in the right place,” Dumbledore said kindly.
“I’ll be speaking with the Weasleys and we will get statements from all of them. I’m sure that none
of them will be placing any blame on you. And since they were in the best position of seeing how
the snakes were acting and not the hundreds of mourners in the background…I think you’ll do fine.
This was an extraordinary circumstance.”


*

Harry and Hermione couldn’t wait to see Ron and Ginny return back to school. After a week spent
mourning at the Burrow, they too were anxious to return to a sense of normalcy. When they all sat
down for dinner, Hermione couldn’t help but ask about how things were going at home.

“How is Percy doing? When he left that day, I began to really worry about him.”

“He’s going through a lot right now,” Ginny replied. “I even wonder whether he and Penny will
even make it to the altar.”

“Why is that?” Hermione asked.

“They can’t seem to agree on anything. Penny told me how he keeps trying to nix things she wants
in the wedding. He seems to think everything is too expensive and too ornate,” Ginny said shaking
her head. “He doesn’t realize that Penny has probably been planning her wedding for years before
she even met him.”

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at that.

“*Well it’s true*,” Ginny said. “I can’t tell you the number of girls I know that can
describe in detail their dream wedding. Percy doesn’t understand that. If he keeps knocking all her
plans down, I don’t know if there will be any future for them.”

“What about the *other thing* that was talked about after the funeral,” Harry asked
quietly.

“Dad and Percy are still not really talking to each other,” Ron said. “Percy still clings to the
idea that it’s not the Dark Lord who threatened Dad. He would give anything if Dad would recant and
say that it was Sirius Black who was trying to recruit him. Until then, they are talking past each
other and not to each other. At least Percy moved out in January, so we didn’t have to hear them
argue. We only had to hear them have parallel discussions the few times that Percy showed up.”

*

The next day brought an extraordinary number of owls delivering mail. Almost half of the
Gryffindors received similar parchments. Harry was not surprised to then have a thick letter
dropped in front of his place at the dining table.

*Dear Mr. Potter:*


*As you are probably aware by now, there has been a formal complaint filed regarding your
performing magic outside of school in violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of
Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C. Accordingly, the Board of Governors shall endeavor to
ascertain all the circumstances regarding this event to determine whether expulsion is warranted.
Given your unique stature in the Wizarding World as well as the severity of the alleged crime, it
is imperative that there is no doubt in the public’s eye of our decision.*


*The Board of Governors has convened and settled upon the following schedule for this case. We
are requesting a statement from all those in attendance as to their perceptions of what happened
that day. We will require that you submit your own statement as to what transpired that day and the
reasons for your actions. These statements are due in our office by April 25th. If you
have any supplemental testimony from others who were not in attendance at the funeral, it should
also be submitted by that date.*


*You will subsequently receive copies of all the statements (lacking personal identifiers, of
course) by May 2nd. You will be allowed to provide written rebuttals to these statements
up until June 3rd. Then you will be given time to prepare your oral testimony which will
be made before the full Board of Governors on June 24th. You will be permitted to speak
for ten minutes. Others who wish to speak at this hearing will be allotted three minutes to state
their position. Should you find any need to respond to any of the verbal statements of the
witnesses, five minutes at the end will be reserved for you. Our final decision on this matter will
be made before you return home on the Hogwarts Express.*


*Sincerely,*

*Albert Albini, Chairman of the Board of Governors,* *Hogwarts* *School* *of
Witchcraft and Wizardry*

Harry looked up to see that Hermione had been watching him.

“It looks like everyone that went to the funeral is going to have to provide testimony,” she
said. “How would they know who all attended?”

“We had a quill that was bewitched to keep track of our guest registry,” Ron said. “I’m sure
they just used that list to write these letters.”

“Let me see your letter Harry,” Hermione said as she and Ron started pouring over its
contents.

“I thought Fudge considered this to be an ‘emergency.’ It doesn’t seem like the Governors are
treating it that way,” Ron said.

“It looks like they’re trying to be fair. Or at least *appear* to be fair. That settles it,
I’m going home over the Easter holidays,” Hermione announced.

“Why is that?” Harry asked.

“I’ll need to scour the Muggle libraries and bookstores for law books for laymen. We’ll need
that in order to work on developing a legal strategy as well as the rebuttals and your verbal
testimony. I plan on helping you mount the most vigorous defence possible,” she said with her eyes
flashing. “I tried with Buckbeak, but failed. I’m *not* going to fail this time.”

“Why are you going to use Muggle law books?” Ron asked. “This is the Wizarding World.”

“Because the principles of logic and justice should be universal,” she said matter-of-factly. “I
know exactly what books are in this library and when it comes to books about justice…this library
and probably the Wizarding World are sorely lacking. When I think back to the ‘trials’ that Harry
told us about from Dumbledore’s Pensieve, I really wonder what the Wizarding justice system is
predicated on, because it doesn’t seem to be based on truth or logic. Instead I’m going to depend
on the world of my birth and hope that I can find something that will help us devise a winning
strategy for Harry.”

Harry looked at her and saw the determination in her face. He was grateful that he had someone
like her on his side. He knew that his educational future and possibly his very life depended on
winning this case. He wasn’t even sure where to begin, but he knew that with Hermione on the case
he had a chance. This was going to be a difficult struggle especially when he considered that
people such as Minister Fudge were against him.

“Thank you,” he said. “I think I’ll need all the help I can get. With you in my corner, I may
just win.”

“We will. We have to,” Hermione said firmly.

*

Harry had written his first draft of his statement after Dumbledore had instructed him to do so.
Since then, he was hesitant to revisit it until Hermione had done some of her promised legal
research. In the meantime, they still had their regular classes and schoolwork. Harry had been
wondering how the first day back in Divinations would be for Ron. He considered that maybe it would
just be another ordinary day of hearing Trelawney speak with a misty voice about the Fates and that
nothing much new would be covered. He was wrong. Trelawney was lying in wait for Ronald
Weasley.

As Ron and Harry entered the classroom, Trelawney glided over to Ron and ushered him over to sit
on a pouf next to her beside the fire.

“You know now, don’t you?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Have you accepted your Destiny? It is a lonely life, that of the clairvoyant. But you my child
are no simple Seer. You are destined to be a great Prophet,” Trelawney said breathlessly. “I can
teach you many things, but you must be willing to accept your powers.”

“How come I only recently started showing any talent?” Ron asked.

“Oh, you have shown sparks of it in the past. But you have been holding yourself back with your
own scepticism. It is also not uncommon for clairvoyant ability to manifest itself upon puberty and
also great stresses in life.” Trelawney looked him closely in the eyes. “Tell me Mr. Weasley,
*have you accepted* *your Destiny?*”

“Yes,” he said hesitantly.

“You have formidable powers and the potential to be great, but only if you leave your doubts
behind. And you Mr. Potter,” she said looking at Harry, “must also abandon your doubts. For you too
have the Sight. It pales in comparison to Mr. Weasley, but both of you have been reluctant to
accept your abilities. Instead you think that you are skating by in this class by making things up.
Your intuitions are far greater than you realize.”

Harry gulped at that. All these years he and Ron had laughed as they did their Divination
homework thinking that they were writing outlandish predictions, which they thought could never
come true. Now he started remembering some of those they had come up with. Burns, threats of
drowning, stabbed in the back by a friend, and an unexpected windfall of money. All those had come
to pass during the Triwizard tournament.

“Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, your futures, your destinies are inextricably linked. You must help
each other accept this fact and work together, for your own sake and that of the Wizarding
World.”

Harry got a strange unsettled feeling in his stomach. He looked at Ron and saw that he actually
appeared calm. It seemed that he had finally come to the realization that his fate was to read the
Signs and to predict the future. Harry then thought of the Mirror of Erised and how Dumbledore said
that Ron desperately wanted to step out from the shadows of his older brothers. Being a Prophet
would certainly distinguish himself from all of his brothers, it just wasn’t exactly the way that
Ron had envisioned it coming to pass.

*

A week later Harry once again found himself worrying about his possible expulsion. After hours
of tossing, turning and listening to snores and the incessant croaking of Trevor, he found himself
sitting on the window seat gazing at the night sky. There was a full moon and everything was bathed
in its shimmery glow. As he stared outside, movement out of the corner of his eye caught his
attention. Two figures were entering the greenhouses. *What were they doing there at this time of
night?* He wondered. One figure appeared to be picking herbs and was placing them into a basket.
When the figures left the greenhouses, Harry saw that there was a skinny cat with them. They had
hoods obscuring their faces, but as they walked towards the castle, Harry finally recognized them
due to their gaits. One had a confident prowl while the other had a hunched back and planted his
feet heavily on the ground. It was Snape, Filch and Mrs. Norris.

***

Copious Endnotes. This was the most difficult chapter for me to write, but I wanted to introduce
David in the most dramatic way possible. Having Ron see a tombstone of an unknown dead brother was
the Biggest Bang I could come up with. Because I really do think Ron will be a Seventh Son and that
there is a slightly obscured alphabetic naming scheme with the Weasleys. That’s my careful
scrutinizing of canon. It’s also probably my only truly original theory of what JK Rowling might
have up her sleeve. Some of the other ideas that I’ve woven into this story were inspired by
discussions on the HP for Grown Ups list serv, too many to mention or even remember.

So I’m wondering…how many of you picked up on all the Death Omens that were in chapter 8? The
thirteen sitting at dinner, Ron’s vision for Charlie, plus the added aspect of Sirius being
outside. One of the reviewers on Schnoogle (Padfoot1979) has a signature line that I love:
“Sometimes a big black dog, is just a dog. Other times, it's a death omen. Feeling lucky?”

I’d like to thank the following readers for reviewing my writing: Batgirl, darkstar, kinicky21,
MostEvilKitten, nelli_08, SamanthaMarie, and XxKkAnGxX.

SamanthaMarie wondered if I had any experience with overly jealous boyfriends. Not firsthand,
thank you very much. I was actually trying to show the hallmarks of abusive relationships, such as
the possessiveness, controlling and isolation that occur. I didn’t want Hermione to be a ‘victim’
so I didn’t let this get very far, but wanted to at least hint where it could have gone if she
didn’t call things off. Her sleeping all day long was a small symptom of depression. Thankfully,
Harry intervened on her behalf. As for where I came up with ideas regarding the house-elf rebellion
that comes from personal experience. I have been a political activist for over a decade, and what
Hermione was doing is an old technique called “Consciousness Raising.” I figure that should be a
good starting place to help these magical beings recognize that they have been given a raw deal. I
also am drawing on my own experiences as an activist in trying to steer Hermione’s nascent
political campaign to something that I think would be more productive. If you haven’t guessed, the
house-elf subplot is one of my favourite parts of the HP series. I hope that JKR doesn’t abandon
that subplot and make it seem like a silly passing interest of Hermione’s, but instead makes it an
integral part of the next three books. I actually had to resist the temptation to do more on this
subject than I have written. Ama, one of my betas kept insisting I do more with it, but if I had
followed her suggestions it would have altered my plotline significantly. (She also wants Norbert
to come back and save the day somehow. Well, that’s because she thinks dragons are terribly
misunderstood creatures. Sorry, Ama. It just doesn’t fit in my story.)

Batgirl asked whether or not the teachers knew anything more about Krum than the reader. No. I
think you misinterpreted what I wrote. They looked at him suspiciously only after he treated
Hermione in a doll-like fashion and gave her a far too expensive of a gift. They didn’t look at him
badly before this. She also wondered what the reference to “the pier” meant. I had responded to the
question by a reader of when the H/Hr ship was going to set sail in the endnotes portion of a
previous chapter by saying that “Harry is only now getting directions as to where to find the
coastline. It’ll be a bit before he even finds the pier, let alone the ship.” And well, he’s found
the pier but he’s too afraid to step on board yet. It’ll take awhile for him to get over his fear,
so just sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride and let the anticipation build. After all, in
matters of the heart - timing is everything.

Assorted other things: the Muggle reporter named Craig Pallas was actually a thinly veiled
homage to one of my favourite journalists – Greg Palast.

The inept move that Ron did with Parvati was inspired by an interview with Dustin Hoffman on
“The Graduate” DVD where he told of doing that type of thing when he was in junior high school. He
had been so inept that he wound up touching a girl’s cheek instead of her breast. She knew exactly
what he had tried to do and she openly laughed at his botched attempt to grope her. Director Mike
Nichols tried to get Dustin to bring that type of fumbling behaviour into the scene with Benjamin’s
first sexual encounter with Mrs. Robinson.

And “Bulstrode the Barge” is the name of a character from “Thomas the Tank Engine.” I figured
out a way to slip that joke in and so I went for it. I will go a long way for a joke, mind you.

Stay tuned, coming soon my second Dark Secret will be revealed: Chapter Twelve – Mrs. Norris,
where you’ll learn all about this mysterious feline. I promise that there are some plot twists that
will be unexpected.



12. Mrs. Norris
---------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s note: I’d like to thank Cara Hicks, Ama and Daniel Jackson author of “Harry Potter and
the Time of Shadows” (on Schnoogle.com) for beta reading this chapter.

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Twelve – Mrs. Norris

The next morning Harry quietly related to Ron and Hermione the midnight prowling he saw in the
greenhouses.

“What would Filch be doing in the greenhouses at that time of night?” Ron asked.

“It’s possible he needed some herbs, but I wonder why he didn’t get them from Professor Sprout
instead of sneaking around at night,” Harry said.

“Maybe she wouldn’t give them to him,” Ron suggested.

“But then why would Snape help him steal from the greenhouses?” Harry asked. “I remember how
upset he was last year when Crouch broke into his private stores and stole some ingredients.”

“You two are forgetting that this was during the full moon,” Hermione said. “They might have
been picking something at that time in order to get the full magical potential. I’m sure that
Professor Sprout gave her approval for Snape to be there. He *is* the Potions Master. I’m
wondering about Filch though. Why would both of them have to go?”

“Do you think that this might have anything to do with Mrs. Norris?” Ron asked.

“Probably, but if they need ingredients for a restorative potion for her, why didn’t Snape just
get them himself? Why drag Filch along?” Hermione asked again.

They all shook their heads and turned towards the head table. Snape seemed to sense that he was
being stared at. He looked directly at them and sneered.

“What *is it* with him?” Harry muttered under his breath.

*

Over the Easter holiday very few people stayed at the castle, but the Weasley children all
decided to be with Harry. None of them seemed interested in going back to the Burrow so soon,
especially after being home a few weeks earlier for a bereavement leave.

Harry tried to put the pending expulsion hearing out of his mind by using this time for expanded
Quidditch practices with the four Weasley siblings. Ron helped Harry practice by throwing golf
balls into the air for him to catch. In return, Harry and Ginny would practice passing and trying
to score with the Quaffle against Ron as Keeper. To their surprise, neither Harry nor Ginny could
ever score. Both of them shrugged it off as luck at first, but after several days it was clear that
there was more going on than Ron was admitting. He was invincible. Harry finally asked him one day
after they had showered the question that had been bugging him.

“Ron, what gives? What did you do to improve your game like that?”

“Trelawney,” he said smiling. “She’s been giving me private instruction and I’ve been working on
reading other people’s minds.”

*“You what?”* said Harry dumbfounded. That was the last answer he had expected.

“I just started and I’m still not very good at it yet. I can tell when a Chaser plans their
move. They almost scream the thought of which hoop they are planning on shooting for.”

“Have you ever read my mind?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Only on the field,” Ron said sounding disappointed. “I can only read simple thoughts. If
there’s any complexity to it – I can’t do it yet. And you seem to have very guarded thoughts. More
than most people.”

Harry thought of the number of secrets he had been keeping from Ron and Hermione. “Guarded
thoughts” was an appropriate assessment.

“So, umm, you can’t read Hermione’s thoughts can you?”

“Uh, no,” Ron snorted, “I don’t think she’s had an uncomplicated thought since she was about two
years old.”

Harry inwardly smiled at that. It’s true he thought that Hermione was a complex young woman. He
also didn’t feel comfortable with the idea that Ron might become privy to anyone’s innermost
thoughts, dreams, and desires. It was just a bit too intrusive for comfort.

“I don’t think I want to play chess with you ever again. And I don’t think Dean has any chance
now to suit up for our last match,” Harry said.

“Yeah, poor Dean,” Ron said grinning. “But you know, we’re all magical people so using more of
my own natural talents can’t be cheating. Can it?”

“I don’t think so, especially if no one knows,” said Harry. “I mean, I’m feeling uncomfortable
knowing that you’re trying to read my mind. I don’t think you’d be very popular around here if it
became widely known that you’re trying to do that with everyone.”

“That’s what Trelawney says. You’re the only person I’ve told. And that’s only because you asked
me about my recent improvements on the field.”

“Well, if anyone else asks, just tell them that you’ve been practicing really hard,” Harry
suggested. “What else is she teaching you?”

Ron merely smiled. “Mmm, lots of stuff. She knows so much more than we gave her credit for. She
dabbles a lot and I’m really learning. It’s really changed for me since I’ve accepted my
Destiny.”

“Just don’t start talking all misty on us,” Harry smirked.

*

Harry was anxious to see Hermione come back from the Easter holidays. Before she left she had
hugged him goodbye and whispered in his ear, “Try not to worry too much. I’ll scour the libraries
and bookstores to find some legal help for you. And you know how I’m like a Niffler when it comes
to books.”

The day the students were due back on the Hogwarts Express, Harry found himself pacing around
impatiently. He couldn’t wait to hear what Hermione had uncovered. As he looked at his watch and
knew they should be arriving shortly, he went down to the common room to wait. Ginny was already
there and sitting on the couch.

“Harry, can you come over here? I wanted to talk with you.”

“Sure,” he said as he sat down in a corner of the couch.

Ginny moved closer to him. She was leaning on the couch with one arm behind him, sitting on one
hip and brought her legs up to rest on the couch.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you just how grateful I am to you. The day of the funeral I was such
a jumble of emotions and when those snakes suddenly appeared – I just froze with fear. It was too
much like my first year when…,” her voice trailed off.

Harry nodded. They had never really talked about the Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle and what
Ginny had told the diary.

“I know you didn’t turn those flowers into serpents. I can’t believe that anyone would think
that about you. I feel terrible that you are now in trouble because of that. It’s just not fair.
You were only trying to protect me.”

That’s true, he thought. He was trying to protect her, yet he would have done the same thing if
snakes had been heading towards Fred or George or anyone. He looked at Ginny, she really was kind
of pretty he observed.

Harry had never really paid that much notice to her before because he had always felt
embarrassed by the attention she paid to him. His first day of school she had practically squealed
with delight when she heard that Fred and George had met him. She wanted to go on the train to meet
a celebrity, but not the skinny little lost boy she had seen only minutes earlier. By the time he
saw her the next year at the Burrow he knew that she had been fantasizing about Harry “The Boy Who
Lived” Potter for almost a year. Between Ron’s letters home and their mum’s knitting a Christmas
present for him, Ginny had to have heard a lot about him. She had to have dreamed about meeting
him. Then when he came to her house the next summer after being rescued by her brothers, he was
transformed from an invincible hero into a pitiable orphan starved by nasty relations.

Harry knew that Ginny had idolized him even before Tom Riddle told him that she had spent
countless diary entries detailing her feelings for him. Then he wound up saving her life and
becoming her Saviour. He knew that she was in love with him, but he was afraid that she was only in
love with the Legend and not the person. This is what made him feel uncomfortable, because he felt
that it would be impossible to live up to her expectations. And yet…this past year they had spent a
lot of time playing Quidditch together. He then thought that maybe he hadn’t been very fair with
her. After all, Harry had crushed on Cho without knowing much about her other than she was cute,
shorter than he was and liked Quidditch. Maybe Ginny’s adoration of him was becoming based on
knowing him as a person and not just as a larger than life figure. As he looked into her brown
eyes, he saw a longing in them. He could do worse than having Ginny Weasley as a girlfriend, he
thought.

“I heard that Hermione is helping you with your hearing,” Ginny said, “with her on your side,
I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” he said weakly.

“Thank you for saving me, Harry,” she whispered as she reached over and kissed him warmly on the
cheek.

Harry thought about turning his face a few inches – their lips would meet. *What harm would
that do?* He wondered. Then he thought of the day of Charlie’s funeral when they embraced in
public. Could that have been the reason why she was targeted for attack? She had already been put
in harm’s way twice because of him. If she became his girlfriend, there was no telling the danger
she would be put in.

Just then loud voices were heard coming through the portrait hole. The students were now back
from the Easter holidays and the common room was soon going to be overrun with them. Harry stood up
quickly and saw Hermione as she was lifting her trunk through the entryway.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Harry said as he grabbed the trunk and practiced levitating
it towards the girls’ dormitory.

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “Oh Harry, I found *so many* different kinds of books on law out
there. The difficult part was trying to find the ones that would be useful. I found books on
tenant-landlord disputes, do-it-yourself divorces, employment law, sexual harassment law, domestic
violence, copyright, estate and will planning. I even saw a book on dog law. I wound up picking up
a legal dictionary and a basic legal guide for laymen. This is really fascinating stuff. I’m
beginning to think that I should go into law as a career.”

“You’d be great at that,” Harry said as the trunk bumped its way up the stairs.

“Thanks,” she said as she opened the door. “Oh did you see the other day in the paper that Fudge
hired goblins to guard Azkaban? I guess he’s getting ready for more prisoners. I wonder if the
goblins are going to have dragons help them guard the fortress like they do at Gringotts.”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry. “It’s only a tiny island after all. There’s not much room for
dragons, besides they could fly away. Now Blast-Ended Skrewts on the other hand…”

“Don’t even bring up those horrible creatures,” Hermione said laughing. “At least we’re only
worried about you being expelled. It’s not like we have to worry about you being sent to
Azkaban.”

“At least for now,” said Harry as he dropped the trunk off at the foot of her bed.

“Stop saying things like that,” said Hermione, “we need to think positively. Oh and here are a
few suggestions I made regarding your statement after doing some preliminary research.”

She reached into her trunk and brought out the sheet of parchment that Harry had given her. As
he took it from her, he saw that it was now practically bleeding with red ink.

“Of course, these are only suggestions,” she said. “We’ll have to go over it word for word to
make sure that everything is true. After all, it is your testimony.”

He nodded and sighed heavily. This whole hearing process was beginning to seem like an
impossible mountain to climb.

*

Later that week as they were eating dinner, Harry noticed that Hermione’s necklace was
missing.

“Hermione, what happened to your locket?” Harry asked.

She reflexively reached around her neck, “It’s gone! The chain must have broken. Do you remember
when you saw it on me last?” she asked.

“I thought you had it on in Potions,” he replied.

“I’ll be right back!” she cried as she dashed from the dining table.

About ten minutes later Hermione came back to the table with a strange expression on her
face.

“Did you find it?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I got it,” she said absentmindedly. “Ron, can Squibs make potions?”

“I dunno. Why do you ask?” responded Ron.

“I mean, could a Muggle follow the formula for a potion like it was a simple cookbook recipe if
they had all the ingredients? Or do you need magic behind potion making in order for it to work?”
she asked.

“What happened?” Ron asked.

“When I went back to the dungeons to get my locket, I saw Filch in there. Snape was directing
him on how to make a potion.”

“Did they see you?” asked Ron.

“No, I was very quiet and just summoned it. They were in the front of the classroom and I don’t
think they heard or saw me.”

“But even if Filch *could* make a potion and if Snape were helping him with it – don’t you
think it would be easier for Snape to just make the potion himself?” Harry mused. “I’m sure that it
would be faster. And he wouldn’t have to worry about any accidents, like melting cauldrons.”

Ron and Hermione just shook their heads in puzzlement.

“Oh there’s something I forgot to tell you Harry,” Ron said. “I got a letter from my mum. Percy
isn’t going to submit any testimony regarding the funeral to the Board of Governors. He said that
he was recusing himself. He was afraid that there might be a perceived conflict of interest on his
part.”

“I think he’s afraid of contradicting his boss,” Harry replied.

“Yeah, that’s what I think,” said Ron bitterly. “He wouldn’t want to upset Fudge. To hell with
telling the truth.”

“Ron are women allowed to give verbal testimony in Wizarding courts?” asked Hermione.

Ron seemed puzzled at that, “Sure. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I was just wondering. The Wizarding World seems a little behind the Muggle world in some
things, so I just wanted to make sure that women had legal standing in Wizard courts. It wasn’t
that long ago, women didn’t used to have any legal rights of their own and didn’t have legal
standing in a court of law. It was only fairly recently that women were accorded the ability to
inherit and control property, enter into legal contracts, et cetera. It was called *feme*
*covert* where once a woman married she became subordinate to her husband and he had all the
legal standing. That type of discrimination goes back to antiquity when women couldn’t
*test-*ify,” she said with a smug look on her face.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Ron.

Hermione giggled and looked like she was holding back something juicy, “Do you guys know where
the word *test-*ify comes from?”

Ron and Harry looked at each other and shook their heads. “No,” they said together.

“Spill it,” Ron urged.

“Well, in ancient times when men made an oath they didn’t swear on a Bible or anything like
that. Nope. They would swear by their…” she paused and made a cupping motion with one hand.

Ron and Harry’s eyes grew large.

“They didn’t…” Ron shook his head blushing.

“Yup! And that’s why women couldn’t *test-*ify. Neither could eunuchs for that matter,
because they lacked the proper anatomical equipment in order to swear by,” she said with a throaty
laugh.

Ron blushed scarlet and abruptly excused himself from the table.

Harry looked at her with amazement, *“Hermione, that* was bawdy.”

She flashed him a smile and flounced her hair, “Maybe a little, but Harry that’s simply history
or should I say *his*-story, because the contributions of women are generally ignored in the
historical record.”

“Where did you find out about that?” he asked sounding intrigued.

“In doing research, you come across all kinds of fascinating stuff,” she said as she checked her
watch. “We should get going. We’ve got a lot to do.”

They quickly finished their dinner and left for the library. Hermione found a large table in the
back of the library, which quickly became covered with books and papers spread all about. After
about an hour of discussing various aspects of law that seemed pertinent to the case Hermione
became exasperated.

“I wish someone would bring me the head of John the Baptist,” she grumbled.

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asked.

“We need some exculpatory evidence. Something to prove that Voldemort has risen,” she said.
“Something no one could twist and say that it was due to you being evil or to Sirius Black.”

“Why do I have to prove that Voldemort rose?”

“Because we are admitting your guilt about performing magic outside of school. What we need are
mitigating circumstances to introduce as evidence,” she sighed. “It’s not enough that you tried to
save Ginny from being bit by poisonous snakes.”

“I don’t understand. Why isn’t that enough?”

“Because Fudge has set the tone for many in the Wizarding World. He denies that Voldemort has
returned – so he’s turning all the blame of suspicious acts on you and Sirius. That means that many
people would rather believe outrageous lies about you than face the reality that the most evil Dark
Wizard they have ever known has returned. So that means they are willing to believe that you were
the one to transfigure the flowers to snakes in the first place. We have no evidence to counter
that belief.”

“But I didn’t do that,” he protested.

“I know, but we can’t prove that. The Prior Incantato spell only gives the last spell cast by a
wand. Since you admit that you did the reverse transfiguration spell, testing your wand would be
useless as evidence. And at this point it would be *really* useless because you’ve performed
many more spells since we’ve been back in school.”

“So how would proving Voldemort has returned help my case?” he asked.

“Then the Governors would know that you aren’t a Dark Wizard in training, but the good, decent
young man that I know,” then she brightened. “Of course, we might at least have Albert Albini
leaning towards our side.”

“Why do you say that?” Harry asked.

“Remember when Azkaban was overturned? He openly criticized Fudge in the paper for having placed
the Dementors there in the first place. He also cited the rumours that Voldemort had returned and
worried about what the future held in store. If Albini were a Fudge loyalist, he never would have
said such a thing. Also the fact that the Board of Governors didn’t rush to expel you immediately
after Fudge called for it, shows that there may be an independence of thought which we so
desperately need in this case.” She then looked at Harry carefully. “You said that you knew
something bad was going to happen the day of the funeral because you saw Macnair at the Burrow and
you knew that he was a Death Eater. At the service, you turned around and took out your wand
because you sensed something was about to happen. Right?”

“Right. I knew someone was hiding behind a standing stone. Then I saw them and saw they were
holding a wand. I knew there was going to be trouble. That’s when I took out my wand.”

“You also said that Trelawney pronounced to your class that you have the Sight.”

“Yes. She did.”

“Well then,” Hermione said sounding satisfied, “what we need is to get a statement from
Trelawney saying that you have the Sight. So she could confidently state that there is the real
probability that you had a precognitive warning that something bad was about to happen. That you
sensed it was going to come from someone hiding behind a stone. Even if no one else present sensed
it or saw the culprit. And since Trelawney is an instructor here and these are our Board of
Governors, they ought to value her testimony. Otherwise they would be criticizing their own faculty
members and the quality of education offered here. I doubt that they would be openly hostile to
their own staff. I may not have much respect for her or her so-called talents, but we need to play
her up as much as we can.”

“Okay, I’ll talk with her tomorrow about writing something.”

“There’s also the question of how you could just do that transfiguration without any instruction
or practice,” Hermione mused.

“Well, Professor McGonagall can write a statement saying that I’ve really improved in the last
year and that I can do transfigurations now without any difficulty,” Harry said sounding
pleased.

“How *did you* improve so rapidly?” Hermione asked. “You used to really struggle in that
class. Then at the start of this year you seemed to have made a quantum leap in talent.”

“Umm,” Harry desperately tried to remember the lie that he had told McGonagall. “I learned some
meditative techniques this summer. I learned a little yoga.”

“Yoga?” she said questioningly. “What method of yoga? Was it Hatha, Kundalini or…?”

Harry swallowed hard. “I-I don’t know. I just saw it on the telly a few times. I didn’t pay too
much attention.”

“*Really?* Do you remember the name of the program or what channel it was on?”

“I don’t remember. That was last summer,” he said stammering.

“So is it your testimony that you became such a whiz at Transfiguration because you caught a
television show once or twice on yoga and you didn’t pay close attention to it?” she asked with an
incredulous look on her face.

“Well, I mean I sat and meditated while it was on.”

“Is *that* your testimony?” she asked as she gave him a piercing look. “You’re lying to
me.”

Harry hung his head, “I’m sorry Hermione, but I can’t tell you how I improved so rapidly.”

“Fine,” she snapped, “but we can’t lie to the Board of Governors. About anything. It’ll come
back to haunt us. I do think we need Professor McGonagall to make a statement in regards to your
great talent in Transfiguration class and that she wasn’t surprised that you could instantly
reverse the spell. I just hope she doesn’t put anything in there about yoga.”

Harry nodded and looked sheepishly at her, “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“If there’s something you can’t tell me that’s fine. Just say *that*. Don’t lie to me
again. After all, I am trying to help you,” she said sounding hurt.

*

The next Saturday Neville asked to speak with Harry privately after lunch. They went up to their
dorm room before Neville would tell him what it was about.

“Professor Figg has been helping me for months with my memory. She’s used hypnosis and some
other methods to help me remember some things about my parents. She said that smells were a
powerful way to invoke memories. She was right. When I smelled my mum’s perfume it reminded me of
the lullaby she used to sing when I had trouble falling asleep. The smell of my dad’s pipe and
tobacco reminded me of sitting on his lap while he read to me.”

“That’s nice Neville. Did you see them over the Easter holiday?”

“Yeah,” he said darkly. “They didn’t look good. In fact, they looked terrible.”

“What was wrong?” asked Harry.

“Well they’ve always been staring off into space, but now they have these dark sores on their
hands. I never noticed them before so I’m not sure if they’ve had them for a long time or not, but
they looked awful. I told my gran, but she didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with them.
She said they were just old age ‘liver spots.’ I’ve seen liver spots, they didn’t look like those
at all.”

“What do you think they might be?”

“I dunno. It made me really worried though. So when Gran had her private time with my folks, I
went and talked with the head of the psychiatric department. He seemed to think it was just due to
their long term vegetative states,” Neville shook his head. “It still bothers me.”

“Who’s in charge of your parents’ care?” Harry asked.

“Avery. Wallace Avery,” Neville said.

Harry’s jaw dropped. “No, not Avery,” he said with dread.

“Why?”

“He’s a Death Eater. I saw him in Voldemort’s inner circle last year,” Harry said. “We have to
tell this to Professor Figg immediately.”

“Well, that’s part of what I wanted to talk with you about Harry. Figg said that she thought
that my memory could be completely restored today. She said she’d introduce me to someone who knew
what happened to my parents. I want you to come with me,” Neville said.

“Why? I mean it might be embarrassing to you for me to be there.”

“Harry, you’ve been through a lot of strange stuff. I thought that you might be able to help me
afterwards. You know, sort through it all. Please come,” Neville pleaded. “I’m a little
scared.”

“Okay, I’ll come. When are we supposed to meet with her?”

“In about ten minutes or so.”

*Croooooak**! Croooooak!*

“No Trevor! You can’t come,” Neville said rolling his eyes. “Honestly, I wish my Great Uncle
Algie never got me this stupid toad.”

Trevor then jumped out of his small bowl of water and hopped off the side table and started
going across the room.

“Trevor! You’ve spilled water again. Oh and look at all the bloody algae you’ve spread over my
books. Why don’t you just get lost for good this time?”

Neville and Harry started to wipe up the water and gunk that had been spread over the room.

“I hate that toad,” he said muttering. “I wish I had an owl instead. Hedwig never seems to give
you any problems.”

“Yeah, most of the time she doesn’t. She has gotten hacked off with me a couple of times though.
Later I found owl pellets in my bed,” Harry said.

“Ewww,” Neville said.

Harry nodded. “At least it wasn’t owl droppings. Anyway, I think we’ve got everything cleaned up
now. Let’s go, I really want to tell Professor Figg about Avery.”

They walked quietly through the castle towards Professor Figg’s classroom. Harry started to get
a nervous feeling in his stomach. There was something bad about to happen. Neville also seemed a
bit apprehensive and knocked softly on the door.

“Come in Neville!” Professor Figg called to him.

They walked into her classroom and found her sitting behind her desk with her Kneazle on her
lap. She looked surprised to see both Neville and Harry walk in the room.

“So Harry, what can I do for you?” she asked stifling a yawn and tugging on her ear.

“Umm, Neville asked me to come,” Harry said as he pushed up his glasses.

“That’s very wise, Neville,” Professor Figg said kindly. “Muggle doctors often recommend that
patients bring someone with them when they know they are going to get bad news. That way the other
person can help them remember what the doctor told them. Please sit down.”

“Neville, tell her about your parents and Avery,” prompted Harry.

He quickly told her about the strange spots that he saw for the first time on the palms of his
parents’ hands. He also told her about what Avery had said and that Harry knew him to be a Death
Eater.

Professor Figg nodded gravely, “Yes, I’ve been afraid of that. I think they’re in danger there.
We will have to try and get them out as soon as possible.”

Then she meowed at the cat in her lap. He jumped down and left the room. A few minutes later the
cat returned with an elderly looking witch. She had looked like she had been blonde but was quickly
going grey and she looked very thin. The look in her eyes is what bothered Harry. She looked
directly at him as if she were looking through him. He shuddered when she entered the room.

“Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, this is Mrs. Iona Norris,” introduced Professor Figg. “Mrs.
Norris, this is Neville and Harry.”

Ron was right, Harry thought. Filch had been watching over a transfigured woman after all. He
looked at Professor Figg, who appeared calm. Harry trusted that this meant the mysterious woman who
just entered the room would mean no harm to him or Neville.

“Hello Neville,” Mrs. Norris said quietly as she shook his hand. “I’m so sorry. I was only
trying to help.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Mrs. Norris gave a large sigh as she sat down next to him. “I think I need to tell you a little
about myself first. I had the misfortune of marrying a Dark Wizard. He was handsome and charming in
his youth, but he turned into a vicious, mean and controlling man. I was never able to stand up to
him. Over the years he delved deeper and deeper into the Dark Arts. I was helpless in stopping him
or any of the horrible crimes that he committed. When You-Know-Who started looking for followers,
he called on his old friend Cyncus to join him. He was one of the first Death Eaters.

“I stood silently by as Cy married off our only child to what I knew was another Death Eater. Cy
thought it was a good match, because now we were linked to a prominent and powerful wizarding
family that went back for generations. It didn’t matter whether or not our daughter was going to be
happy. Then again, *I* was never happy – so what difference would that make to Cy?”

Harry looked at this witch who seemed close to tears. She was finally telling a story that had
been consuming her for years. As he looked at her, there was something familiar about her. He
couldn’t place it though. It was as if he recognized an actor from another movie, but didn’t know
where they were from.

“I finally snapped when I heard what happened to your parents. I knew that Cy was gone that
night. I knew, *I knew* in my heart that he had something to do with it. I wanted to see you,
to see how you were doing. I arranged to visit your grandmother a week later and I saw how
traumatized you were. My heart was simply torn out of my body when I saw you. I had to do
something,” she said her voice trembling. “When Lucretia left the room for a minute, I gave you a
memory charm. I only meant to erase the memory of that night. I didn’t mean to erase all your
memories and ruin your powers of concentration. I am so sorry.”

Neville reached over to Mrs. Norris and patted her on the shoulder, “That’s okay. I’m sure you
meant well.”

“I did, I only wish I were a better witch,” she said looking up at him gratefully. “If only I
hadn’t had to leave school early…I might have learned those spells properly and not on my own from
books and Kwikspell courses.”

“Why did you have to leave Hogwarts early?” Harry asked.

She gave a rueful smile. “The same reason girls have had to for centuries. *I* *had to
get married.*”

“Ohhh,” Harry said understanding at last. He then looked at her carefully and asked, “Umm, how
come you didn’t try using anything to umm…”

Mrs. Norris bowed her head and said very softly, “I don’t even remember my first time.”

Harry was horrified. He started remembering Ron’s fear of Krum taking advantage of Hermione and
realized that Cyncus Norris must have committed such an act against Mrs. Norris. Then she was
forced her to marry the guy that did that to her. He shuddered at the thought.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I left Neville’s house before Lucretia came back into the room. I went
straight to the Ministry’s offices and talked to Alastor Moody. I turned in my husband and told him
that I strongly suspected that the Lestranges were in on it. I had seen them talking together a few
days before the attack.”

“How did you wind up as a cat?” Harry asked.

Neville then looked at him quizzically. “*This* is Mrs. Norris? Filch’s cat?”

“Yes, I have been trapped in a cat’s body for thirteen years,” she said matter-of-factly. “After
I left the Ministry offices, I tried to go into hiding. Except that Cy came looking for me. He must
have been tipped off that I went to the Ministry and he came looking for me before he was arrested.
I had sought refuge with a childhood friend. I’d always had a soft spot in my heart for Argus
Filch, because he had to put up with so much torment as a child. His older brothers used to place
curses and hexes on him and he had to somehow endure without using magic to retaliate. I used to
tell his brothers off because they were so cruel to him, and because of that Argus was always kind
and sweet towards me. And after years of being with someone who used magic as a means to punish and
degrade me, being in the arms of a Squib seemed like a respite. But Cy found me. I thought he was
going to kill me, but instead he wanted to punish me and to torture Argus. That’s why I was
transfigured into a cat.”

“But…I saw another student transfigured last year into a ferret by a teacher and then Professor
McGonagall used her wand to reverse the spell,” Harry said puzzled. “How come you weren’t turned
back before this? Surely Filch knew.”

“Yes, he knew that I was now a cat, but he didn’t know that Cy placed a curse on me after I was
transfigured. Only someone who truly loved me could release me from my feline prison. That meant
that even Cy wouldn’t be able to undo his own magic, because Cy never really loved me. I don’t
think he was ever capable of love.”

“*That’s* why Filch was in the greenhouses,” Harry said.

She nodded, “Yes, Argus was the only one who could release me. Having me so close to him, but
imprisoned has eaten away at him. You should have seen him years ago, he really was quite handsome.
Anyway, Argus confided in Professor Snape who has tried many times over the years to come up with a
restorative potion for me, but he always failed. He could never understand why. I was never able to
communicate with them until this year, when Professor Figg spoke with me,” Mrs. Norris looked at
the teacher with immense gratitude in her eyes. “Then Argus had to make the entire potion from
scratch. He had to get all the ingredients and do everything. But it finally worked and now here I
am.”

“But couldn’t you have talked to Professor McGonagall?” asked Harry. “She’s a cat Animagus.”

Mrs. Norris gave a pained smile. “I suppose I could have, but…well, Minerva and I never got
along. It goes back to when we were in school. She was Head Girl when I was only in my second year.
I developed early and I was quite pretty in my day. Minerva on the other hand, was never popular
with boys. Part of it was due to her rigid attitude towards rules and part was due to her plain
looks. She still doesn’t evoke any male interest, she’s never been married or even had any lovers
that I can tell. Anyway, she didn’t like all the attention I got from boys, especially from the
older ones that she thought should have looked at her. So when I was forced to drop out of school,
she wasn’t surprised. She even wrote me a letter saying that her only surprise was that I had
lasted through to my fifth year.”

Harry’s mouth was agape. He had never expected that kind of pettiness from his head of house,
but it didn’t seem terribly out of character for her either.

“So, no. I never felt like I could turn to her for help,” she said sadly. “I was afraid that she
would simply turn her back on me and say that I’d gotten what I deserved. Again.”

Neville looked at her carefully, “Now that you’re free, what do you plan on doing?”

She shook her head, “I’m pretty much a prisoner here. I have to stay out of sight. There are too
many students who might say something innocent to their parents and end up endangering my
life.”

“Why is that?” Neville asked.

“Because Cy escaped from Azkaban. I *know* he’s alive and I’m sure he’d like to see me
dead.”

“What about your daughter?” asked Harry. “I’m sure she’s been worried about you. Your having
disappeared for all these years and presumed dead. Are you going to tell her you’re alive?”

“No. I’m sure she’s more concerned with her social standing than she is with the welfare of her
parents,” Mrs. Norris said coldly. “I’m sure that she immediately distanced herself from Cy when he
was arrested. I doubt that she will even admit that she’s related to him. And because of her
husband, I’m sure that she would welcome Cy back in her life before she would me.”

Harry was disgusted at the thought that someone would be so evil that they’d welcome back a
father who eagerly tortured others, but reject a compassionate mother who took pity on a
traumatized child. There was something deeply upsetting about that scenario.

“Professor Figg, you said that my memory would be restored today,” interjected Neville. “I
appreciate understanding who gave me the memory charm, but I still don’t remember what happened
that night.”

Professor Figg nodded, “Yes, you now know that a charm was placed and the circumstances of why
it was placed. I’ve been working with Iona to perform the counter spell.”

Neville looked nervously at the witch who stood before him with her wand directed at his head.
Harry remembered Lockhart’s backfired memory spell and decided to move across the room just to be
safe. Even Tufty seemed a bit nervous and jumped out of Professor Figg’s lap. The Kneazle walked
over to the door and arched his back and hissed.

“Stop!” Professor Figg called out before Mrs. Norris could cast the spell. She walked to the
door and found a large green toad standing outside. Tufty hissed at Trevor and emitted a low growl
from his throat. Professor Figg pointed her wand at the toad.

“Harry, go get Professors Snape and Dumbledore. NOW!” ordered Professor Figg.

Harry ran through the corridors to Dumbledore’s office. He almost fell several times as his feet
slipped on the stone floors. When he got to the stone gargoyle guarding the outside of Dumbledore’s
office he lifted his fist to pound on the wall. His clenched hand almost connected with
Dumbledore’s face when the door swung open.

Harry caught his hand in mid-air and then doubled over trying to catch his breath, “Figg. Needs
you. Now. Snape, too,” he said between gasps.

Harry was nursing the stitch in his side that he had gotten from running so fast. Dumbledore
made a gesture inside his office and Snape appeared. Harry didn’t have time to think about what
Snape had been doing inside Dumbledore’s office. He was merely glad that he didn’t have to go look
for the Potions Master.

As Harry, Dumbledore and Snape entered Professor Figg’s office they saw her gripping her wand so
tightly that her hand had turned white. Tufty stood with his back arched and was glaring at the
toad.

“What is it Arabella?” Dumbledore asked.

“I think we have another spy here,” she said indicating the toad. “I wanted reinforcements
present before I attempted to force him or her to be revealed.”

“Neville, is that your toad?” Snape asked with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” he squeaked.

A gutteral snarl came from Snape’s throat as blue-white light was emitted from Professor Figg’s
wand. The toad started growing until a fully-grown wizard was crouched before them. Neville had a
look of abject horror on his face.

“Great Uncle Algie!” he cried. “Noooo! It can’t be!”

Dumbledore, Snape and Professor Figg all had their wands trained on the old wizard.

*“Expelliarmus!”* Snape bellowed causing the man’s wand to zoom through the air to him.

“Algernon Marlowe, we meet again,” said Professor Figg coolly.

“And what pray tell, would cause a grown wizard like yourself to be masquerading around as a
toad for the last five years?” asked Dumbledore.

Marlowe gave a malevolent glare at Dumbledore and then at Neville.

“Uncle Algie…why are you here?” asked Neville apprehensively. “Were you trying to watch over
me?”

“Watch over you?” Marlowe scoffed. “You are so stupid. I can’t even believe I’m related to such
a worthless piece of scum.”

Neville’s looked horrified. “But, but, you were always trying to scare magic out of me – I
thought you cared about me.”

“You are so thick you can’t even tell when someone’s trying to kill you,” Marlowe said with
contempt. “I tried drowning you, tried to have you fall to your death. I kept trying to make it
look like an accident, but you’re such a damned brat that you *wouldn’t die!*” Then he looked
directly at Harry. “Sort of like you!”

“Why did you want to kill me?” asked Neville. “We’re related.”

“You think having some blood in common should cause me to give a damn about someone? That kind
of thinking should have gotten you killed.”

Then Marlowe started to cough uncontrollably. He covered his mouth with his hand and finally his
coughing subsided.

“The Dark Lord knows everything,” he said menacingly at Neville. “One day you will have to
choose. The only choice that you will be given is to *follow him or die*.”

Harry had noticed that Marlowe now made a strange clicking noise when he spoke. It reminded him
of a teacher he had in primary school that had ill-fitting dentures. He supposed that the coughing
attack must have loosened up the old wizard’s teeth.

“Severus, please administer the Veritaserum. I want to know who he was reporting back to,” said
Dumbledore.

“NEVER!” yelled Marlowe as he opened his mouth visibly and then bit down on something.

His body fell to the floor. Dead.

“DAMN YOU!” screamed Professor Figg at the corpse. “Damn! Damn!” she said as she paced the
room.

Snape went over to the body and pried open the clenched teeth. He then smelled his fingers.

“Cyanide,” he muttered, “I should have seen that one coming.”

Dumbledore conjured a paper bag and handed it to Professor Figg. “That’s over. There’s nothing
more we can do about that now. Breathe, Arabella.”

She nodded and slowly breathed in the paper bag. She sat down behind her desk and Tufty climbed
back in her lap. She was beginning to relax and stroked her Kneazle. After a few minutes she looked
up at Mrs. Norris.

“Okay, Iona,” Professor Figg said calmly, “it is time to restore his memory. Someone else must
have been involved that night. And I think that Neville has that secret locked away. That must be
why Algie was watching him – to make sure that his memories never came back.”

Mrs. Norris stepped forward and raised her wand, “*Finite Incantantem!”*

A blinding yellow light erupted from the tip of her wand and surrounded Neville’s head. The
light bounced around for a few seconds and then his eyelids flickered open.

Professor Snape then handed him a glass filled with an amber looking fluid in it. “Drink this
Longbottom. It is a memory potion that I brewed for you. It will help you sort through the rush of
memories you are having.”

Neville took the glass and drank. He shivered when he finished drinking the potion. He closed
his eyes and then started shaking his head.

“No, no, it can’t be. It just can’t be,” he said with a voice thick with emotion.

“Who was it?” asked Dumbledore.

“Gran.”

***

Copious Endnotes once again: I understand that there might be some of you disturbed by the
thought of two more animals being transfigured people. I agree, except I think that is exactly
where JK Rowling is going. So I followed what I think is likely, along with trying to throw in some
of my own plot twists. The idea that Argus Filch is overlooking a transfigured woman was something
that I saw floated on the Harry Potter for Grown Ups list serv. Yes, the name Argus is from Greek
Mythology, but Filch implies ‘to steal.’ So put those together with the strange name of Mrs. Norris
for a cat and you start to think that the caretaker was trying to steal someone else’s wife.
There’s also the nagging question that if she were forcibly transfigured why no one restored her
before, especially Snape who seemed to get along with Filch. Thus, the old True Love idea found in
fairy tales such Beauty and the Beast reared its old head.

And Uncle Algie as Trevor? All I can say is Algie/Algae. JK Rowling is practically screaming it
to us. I’ve also never felt comfortable with the idea of someone trying to scare magic out of a
child. I think Great Uncle Algie was trying to bump off Neville all along.

I’d like to thank AnimeFanatic, Batgirl, kinicky21, NAPPA, SamanthaMarie, and Tina for their
kind reviews of my last two chapters. Batgirl had questions regarding Fudge, all I can say is –
watch that man very carefully. As to why Voldemort wants Arthur Weasley to join his side? Voldemort
wants *everyone* in a position of power to join his side. He wants to consolidate power
everywhere.

NAPPA, why did I finger Charlie for death? Working with dragons is dangerous and it would be
easy to murder him and make it look like a dragon did it. That made it an easy choice, although a
big risk to take. That’s because Charlie is such a beloved character and I haven’t seen any other
fanfic writer killing him off. My beta reader Ama almost stopped talking to me after that, too.
That’s because I had sent her the chapter to proofread where he died before I had even started
writing the funeral chapter. I learned from that experience that I needed to upload both together.
Another reason is that it was more powerful visually to have the names Charles Weasley next to
David Weasley. It is easier for the alphabetizing to be recognized. Would it make you feel any
better to know that when I was writing this story that the funeral chapter is something I put off
until I had to write it? I literally had to force myself to think about the ceremony and everything
involved because it was painful to me?

SamanthaMarie wanted to know where I came up with the idea of the slightly obscured alphabetic
naming scheme. To explain the creative process and the way that my mind works is sort of like
watching sausage being made. It takes away some of the enjoyment, but if you insist… One of the
first fanfics I came across had Ron as a Seventh Son and clairvoyant. The large gap between Charlie
and Percy has been perceived by some as a good place for another child to have been born and the
Seventh Son idea is therefore not an uncommon idea. The way this writer revealed that plotline was
decidedly unbangy to me. Ron and Ginny had gone to a carnival and went into a gypsy fortuneteller’s
tent. The gypsy felt great power in the tent and asked which one of them was the seventh child. Ron
and Ginny both pointed to the other and then Ginny settled the dispute by ticking off the names,
“Charlie, Bill, Michael, Percy, Fred, George, then you, Ron.” Or something like that. No discussion
of what ever happened to Michael, but I felt that he probably just died in childhood from a
non-traumatic way by the way it was presented. As I read that story I realized that the author had
gotten the birth order wrong and that it was Bill and then Charlie. Then I noticed a pattern of B,
C, blank, P, F, G. Then I thought of Arthur starting with the letter A and decided that the blank
should be filled in with a D for David. Then all you have to do is change Percy’s first name to
start with an E. E for Edward. I also know that it is not uncommon for people to be called by their
middle name instead of their given first name. It’s done all the time. So, if we can establish that
Bill’s first name is not William, but Bill short for Bilius – then there is a chance for that
slightly obscured alphabetic naming scheme to be canon proof that Ron is a Seventh Son.

I first floated that theory on HpfGU’s list last year around April and caused quite a stir.
There were some that were intrigued by the idea while others thought it was a “wanton morass of
tosh.” ::Shrugs:: I happen to like the idea a lot. Partly because legends of Seventh Sons being
clairvoyant are very prevalent in folklore and I can’t see any other reason why JKR created such a
large family with so many older brothers and have Divination take up so much space in the books so
far. I think she’s going to follow through with this and make Ron a prophet because it would allow
him to step out of the long shadows of his brothers. It also would answer why JKR introduced a
character name like Bilius. I know she likes strange names and all, but bilius is one of the four
humours of the body. I mean does she intend on introducing a Choleric, Sanguine and Phlegmatic as
other obscure canon names? So I think that it was a subtle way of her introducing that Bill is
named after Uncle Bilius, and that his name is not short for William. The question then becomes: If
I am right about this theory, does Ron know about David or has it been kept a secret from him?
There was a discussion on HpfGU’s where there was one part of canon that might indicate that Ron
knew about a dead older brother. On the first trip to Hogwarts when Ron and Harry first met, Harry
said that he wished he had three wizard brothers. This was the reply:

“Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to
Hogwarts….” He then goes on to list and describe his older brothers. This gloominess on Ron’s part
could indicate his discomfort being the sixth going to Hogwarts when by all rights he should be the
seventh. I dunno. It’s one of those things in canon that is vague enough to be a clue, but you’re
just not sure. Personally, I prefer the idea of Molly and Arthur keeping it a secret from the
younger children because Dark Secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you. It’s more dramatic
and that’s what I love.

Anyway, I seriously doubt that you’ll read another fanfic with the slightly obscured alphabetic
naming scheme introduced, nor do I honestly expect that anyone that reads my story will recognize
the significance of the Edward clue when they first see it. That is unless they have read my old
posts on HPfGU’s list or unless they have as strange and convoluted a mind as mine. And that would
be a toughie to come across. ;-)

Stay tuned, coming soon: Chapter Thirteen – Gran Longbottom, you will see my version of what
happened the fateful night when Frank and Claire Longbottom were attacked by the Pensieve Four. I
promise that you’ll never think of the Boggart in the Wardrobe chapter in the same light ever
again.



13. Gran Longbottom
-------------------

Hopefully this will be the last chapter that I will have to reload due to corrupted files.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s note: this chapter has a healthy dose of my sometimes sick and twisted sense of humour.
I’d like to thank as always Cara Hicks and Ama for being beta readers. Daniel Jackson, author of
“Harry Potter and the Time of Shadows” on Schnoogle and Lanski, author of “A New Ghost” on the Dark
Arts also helped me with this chapter.

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Thirteen – Gran Longbottom

Nevile’s body began to shake and his face grew pale.

“What are you remembering?” asked Dumbledore.

“Gran was putting me to bed,” Neville said hesitantly. “She is putting a lamp in my window and
then walks to the door, she stops and listens for a few moments. The doorbell rings. I hear my
dad’s voice. ‘Barty, what beings you here?’ The voices are getting louder, I’m getting scared. Gran
looks over and sees the look on my face. She casts a spell on me so I can’t make a sound. I hear my
dad screaming in pain, then my mum crying for them to make it stop. I wanted to go to them. I
wanted my mum. I tried to climb out of bed, but Gran stopped me.”

“How did she stop you?” asked Dumbledore.

“She did the full body bind, Petrificus Totalus,” Neville said dully.

Harry felt his stomach sink. Hermione had used the same curse to stop Neville four years ago.
What if his body remembered having that done to him before? Harry started grasping at straws for a
good explanation. He wanted to believe that this story wasn’t as bad as it seemed at first
blush.

“Maybe she was just trying to hide your presence, to protect you from being attacked by the
Death Eaters,” Harry suggested.

Neville turned and looked at him with sorrowful eyes, “I don’t think so, because then she went
downstairs to join them. Gran was the one who started torturing my mum.”

Professor Figg looked like she was going to be ill.

“It didn’t do any good though. My dad still wouldn’t tell them what they wanted to know. The
sound of my mum screaming in pain…” Neville shuddered and fought back tears. “Then I heard Gran
start screaming at my dad. She said he was a disgrace, that he didn’t have proper Wizarding pride.
She said it was his fault that my Grandad was killed by the Dark Lord. I heard her slap him. Then
they started discussing what to do with my mum and dad. One man suggested that they kill my parents
since they wouldn’t talk. My Gran disagreed and said that it would send a stronger message to leave
them alive, but unable to function. She said that it was a fate worse than death. If they were
willing to die without telling their secrets it would be thought of as a noble deed, but to be
catatonic is pitiable. She then placed a Catatonia curse on them. She said she would recast it as
often as necessary.”

Dumbledore walked over to Neville and placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “It is hard to
know the truth, but right now we must concern ourselves with the safety of your parents. Your
grandmother is the only one who can get them out of St. Mungo’s and yet, she is the one who is
keeping them there.” He then turned to Snape, “Severus, I shall need your help. I will contact
Lucretia Longbottom through my fire and tell her that Neville is near death and that she must come
here immediately. I want you to meet her in Hogsmeade and bring her back to this room without
delay. Then we will do whatever we have to in order to get her compliance.”

Neville swallowed hard and then looked over at his relative lying dead on the floor. “What’s
going to happen to my Great Uncle Algie?”

“We shall have to move him for right now,” Dumbledore said quietly.

“We need to bury him. I know he’s evil, but Professor Dumbledore everyone deserves a proper
burial.”

“You are right about that Neville,” Dumbledore said solemnly. “However, it is not safe to have a
public funeral for him. Not yet, anyway. Once it leaks out that he’s dead those who were in league
with him would then know to change their plans. That might mean that your parents would die in
their sleep one night without any good explanation. I worry about their safety at St. Mungo’s. We
need to get them out of there and back here. After that we’ll talk again about when we should
arrange a funeral for him.”

Dumbledore then raised his wand and transfigured the dead wizard back into a toad. He picked up
the amphibian and deposited it into an empty glass and handed it to Snape. “I think you should hide
this in plain sight.”

Snape nodded and took the glass. Harry started thinking about all the strange looking jars with
toads, frogs and other creatures suspended in liquid in the Potions dungeon. He started wondering
just what all those jars really contained.

The next fifteen minutes seemed like fifteen hours. The wait for Gran Longbottom to arrive
seemed to stretch on forever. No one seemed to know what to say, so there was an awkward sense of
silence that hung in the air. Finally, voices were heard outside the door. Tufty leapt from
Professor Figg’s lap, ran to the door and immediately arched his back.

“Why are we going here? The hospital wing is down that hallway.”

“Neville was too fragile to move,” Snape said reassuringly, “he’s in here.”

As soon as Snape opened the door and she entered, Dumbledore disarmed Neville’s grandmother and
conjured ropes around her. Obviously, Dumbledore was not going to take any chances that she might
also be holding a suicide pill in her hands. She was aghast at being bound and shocked to see her
grandson alive, well and sitting in the room. As Gran Longbottom looked around the room and
recognized Mrs. Norris she became enraged.

“YOU!” she screamed. “YOU are the reason that my grandson became an idiot! I had such great
plans for him. I was going to make sure that I didn’t fail him like I had with Frank.” She then
cast a scathing look at Dumbledore, “*And* *you* stole my son away from me. All that
nonsense about equality poisoned his mind. If I had only known what kind of example you set, I
would never have sent him here. He would have gone to Durmstrang where he would have gotten a
proper education. Instead, he became enamored of a Mudblood, Muggle loving fool!”

“Why don’t you sit down Lucretia?” Dumbledore said coolly. “There’s a lot we need to catch up
on.”

Gran stood her ground and refused to move. Snape then forcibly moved her over to a chair and
pushed her down.

“That’s better. Maybe we should all be seated,” Dumbledore said, “get comfortable. I think we
may be here for awhile.” He sat and looked at Gran Longbottom carefully. “Neville’s started to
remember things from his youth. It seems that he recalls that you were the one to lead the torture
of Claire and that it was your suggestion to spare their lives and keep them as mental
prisoners.”

She snarled at Neville. He looked back at her with stone cold eyes.

“We were also having a little chat with your twin brother,” continued Dumbledore. “He admitted
to trying to kill your grandson repeatedly over the years. He never explained why though. Perhaps
you could enlighten us about that.”

Gran Longbottom looked at everyone in the room and then got an evil smile on her face. “Yes, you
see Algie thought that Neville was a liability. He worried that one day Neville would remember
everything and turn me in. I was afraid that if he were killed outright that it would look too
suspicious, so Algie kept trying to make it look like an accident. I wouldn’t have had all those
worries and problems raising him if it weren’t for *that bitch* who screwed up his memory to
begin with!”

Mrs. Norris stared back at Gran without flinching.

“I wasn’t worried about Neville telling anyone about the incident, because he had been slow in
speaking,” Gran said smiling. “He still was using his own made up words more than real ones at that
point. I knew that if I gave him the proper training that he would turn out to be a wizard that I
could be proud of instead of a turncoat like my son. But since that idiot witch couldn’t leave well
enough alone, I had to change the way I wanted to raise him. His mind was so damaged that as a
child he would walk into the kitchen because he was hungry, but by the time he got there he had
forgotten what he went in there for. I didn’t know if he even possessed enough magical ability to
make it here, let alone Durmstrang. After Algie’s plans to dispose of our embarrassing problem had
all failed, I decided he needed to come here to monitor Neville. I transfigured him and he was to
report back to me if there was any change in his childhood memories. He also used to croak
incantations at night in Neville’s ear.”

Professor Figg crossed the room and knocked Gran Longbottom’s hat off her head. She yanked
Gran’s head back and held her face inches above the evil old witch’s face, “You are evil! Ever. So.
Evil. How you could treat your own son and grandson like that?”

“And you are a meddling bitch!” Gran Longbottom spat in her face. “When I heard you were
teaching here I knew there was going to be trouble. Shortly after this school year began Neville
started asking me questions about his parents, asking to see pictures of them and wanting to know
what they were like. I couldn’t refuse to answer his questions for fear I would incriminate myself,
but I knew something was up. I knew you had to be behind it. So I’ve taken extra precautions to
assure my own survival.”

“Lucretia, did Frank know that you were a supporter of Voldemort?” asked Dumbledore.

“No. At first we were afraid of the Dark Lord like most wizards, but we came to realize that he
is only trying to help our race in response to the oppression and persecution by Muggles. That’s
when we joined his side. Frank should have understood that fact because we raised him to know of my
family’s history. He knew that my mother was a small girl when she was taken to the village square
to watch as her grandmother was burned to death for being a witch. My family had to hide what they
were from the Muggles for fear that they would also suffer the same fate. After Llewelyn and I
married, we shunned everything to do with Muggles and dealt only with the Wizarding World. Frank
had not even met any Muggles until he came here. *And you*,” she said scornfully at
Dumbledore, “all your talks about tolerance undermined our belief system with Frank. He became best
friends with a Muggle-born wizard. By the time he came home after his first year, he couldn’t stop
talking about how wrong his father and I were about Muggles. Frank conveniently forgot how they
vastly outnumber us and how they have persecuted our kind for thousands of years. Forgetting that
my mother listened to the screams of her grandmother as the flames licked her skin.”

“Like I had to listen to my mother scream as my grandmother tortured her?” interrupted Neville
with a cold voice.

“Your mother and father are race traitors,” she snarled. “What I did was for the good of all
witches and wizards.”

“You can’t honestly believe that,” said Professor Figg.

“Yes I do,” Gran Longbottom replied with her head held high in the air. “Dumbledore may be a
beloved headmaster, but he has dangerous ideas about the mixing of races. That certainly wasn’t the
case when I went here and Armando Dippet was headmaster.”

“Lucretia, the answer to hatred and bigotry is not more hatred and bigotry,” Dumbledore replied.
“That leads only to a perpetual cycle of violence and continued bloodshed. Did you ever stop to
think that the actions of Voldemort and his followers are the kinds of crimes that breed hatred
towards all magical beings?”

“It doesn’t matter what we do. The fact that we even exist is enough for Muggles to want to kill
us,” insisted Gran. “My great-grandmother had been the village healer, but when she became a widow
her neighbour wanted her property. All he had to do was accuse her of witchcraft and point to a cow
that died of old age and it was enough to have her put to death. She had even saved his youngest
son from scarlet fever the winter before. No, nothing will change my mind about the sanctity of our
cause. I was heartbroken when Frank rejected the recruitment effort to join the Dark Lord. I
thought we had instilled the proper Wizarding pride in him, but instead he set a trap and arrested
dear Thanatos Travers. We had hoped that Frank would be a good mole for our side in the Ministry,
but instead he became a zealot searching us out. Llewelyn and I had to hide our actions and
feelings around our own son. Frank started to suspect his father though. He actually came to me
with his concerns,” she gave a laugh that was chilling. “Little did he know that we were both Death
Eaters. He was getting too close to the truth, so when he accused his father of committing certain
crimes I told him that Llewelyn was under the Imperius curse.”

“Why was your husband murdered?” asked Dumbledore.

“Because the Dark Lord wanted to punish me for my failure,” she said simply. “He said that when
Frank confronted me that I should never have tried to deny our belonging to him. I should have
either killed Frank or put him under the Imperius curse myself. Because I failed the Dark Lord, he
killed my husband as a lesson to me. I learned my lesson after that and will no longer show mercy
for anyone.”

Gran Longbottom then looked at Mrs. Norris and got a leer on her face. “Iona, did you ever
wonder who tipped off Cy? After you left my house and had screwed up my grandson, I knew that you
would turn traitor. And you had *such* a pedestrian lover. If you had at least a piddling
amount of talent and would have been worth his time, the Dark Lord could have provided you with
much better lovers. I insisted upon that when I was recruited. Little did Luscious Malfoy realize
when he brought me into the fold, that *he’d* be the one to have to satisfy my carnal
desires.”

Mrs. Norris walked angrily across the room and slapped Gran’s face. “Lucius has a wife and son.
You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

“Your son-in-law has enough to go around,” she said lewdly.

*Son-in-law?* Harry couldn’t believe his ears. *Was Mrs. Norris Draco Malfoy’s
grandmother?* Harry looked at Mrs. Norris carefully and realized the resemblance that had been
nagging him. She looked like an older version of Narcissa Malfoy. Harry then thought of how Draco
strutted around the school feeling as if he owned the place because of his family’s wealth. Harry
wondered if he had any idea that his grandfather had been imprisoned for torturing the parents of a
fellow student. Or that his grandmother preferred the love of a Squib to a cruel but pure-blooded
wizard and wound up becoming the school caretaker’s despised cat. Or even that his mother was the
product of a date rape. The whole thing seemed so absurdly bizarre and funny that he wanted to
laugh except for the look of anger that he saw on both women’s faces. Their rage was real and it
was far from funny.

Harry also thought about the essays everyone wrote about how Voldemort’s forces might try to
recruit them by offering enticements. He wondered if Draco or the other legacies would reconsider
wanting to join the Dark Side if they realized that they might be compelled to service the sexual
desires of evil women such as Lucretia Longbottom. He shuddered at the thought. That certainly
wouldn’t be something that would be listed on a recruitment poster. If the whole situation weren’t
so tragic for Neville, Harry would have openly laughed at the thought of Lucius Malfoy in bed with
an old lady who had the bizarre fashion sense for wearing hideous vulture stuffed hats.

“Luscious stopped his visits after the Dark Lord fell years ago. He was forced to resume them
after I demanded repayment for my steadfast loyalty by repeatedly cursing my son and his pathetic
wife. This past year has been one of the most pleasurable years of my life,” she gloated. Then she
started leering at Snape, “Severus, perhaps I should have requested that the Dark Lord provide me
with a little gothic variety. You look like the kind that would have been *very entertaining*
for me.”

Snape bared his yellow teeth and looked as if he wanted to strangle her.

“Lucretia, I think we’ve heard enough of your exploits,” said Dumbledore sounding irritated. “I
believe that we would all like to be able to eat food at some point today. Please refrain from any
further discussion in this vein.”

“Yes, the question now is, what are you planning on doing with me?” Lucretia said lazily. “You
know that turning me over to the Ministry would be pointless, as we’ve fully infiltrated it by now.
You cannot kill me, not if you ever want to see Frank and Claire alive again. If anything out of
the ordinary happens, there are standing orders to kill them. Immediately.”

“Yes, things are never easy are they, Lucretia?” Dumbledore said coldly. His eyes looked as if
they were blocks of ice. “However, I don’t plan on giving up on Frank and Claire. I’ve always hoped
that there might be a way to bring them back to sanity. Now we know it is possible, the trick will
be getting them out of St. Mungo’s. You of course, will be the key.”

He raised his wand and roared, “*Stupefy!”*

Gran Longbottom slumped in her chair, unconscious.

“Severus, it is clear to me that we will need you to brew up some Polyjuice Potion and have
someone impersonate her. That will be the only way to get the Longbottoms out of harm’s way.”

“Yes, I have all the ingredients, but it does take several weeks to brew before it will be
ready,” said Snape.

“Start today. Arabella can I count on you to play the part of Lucretia?”

Professor Figg looked worried, like she was contemplating something. “Actually, I think Iona
would be a better choice. She can spend all day long with Lucretia. After all, both of them have to
be kept out of sight and with a little ‘motivation’ properly applied, I’m sure that Lucretia will
be a wealth of information. Plus, I’m sure Iona knows Avery.”

Dumbledore then looked at Mrs. Norris carefully. “Iona, are you up to the challenge?”

Mrs. Norris then looked at Neville kindly. “Yes. It’s the least I can do to help this nice young
man get his parents back.”

Dumbledore nodded and then went over to Neville and Harry. “I think it’s time that you two
returned to your dormitory. I am sure that you both realize that nothing you learned here today can
be told to anyone, anytime soon.”

“What’s going to happen with Gran?” asked Neville.

“We will have to keep her here I’m afraid. Until we can retrieve your parents from the clutches
of Death Eaters at St. Mungo’s, we cannot risk involving the Ministry. Don’t worry, she won’t be
harmed. Just inconvenienced.”

“I’m sorry about all of this Neville,” Professor Figg said kindly. “I always had suspicions
about your grandmother, but never any evidence to base it on. It was more intuition than anything.
Don’t worry, we will get your parents back.”

Neville nodded, but looked unsure of himself as he and Harry left the classroom.

“I don’t know what to say,” said Harry.

“I’m glad you came Harry,” Neville said. “I’m going to need your help working through all of
this. Do you know what my Gran meant when she was talking to Snape? I mean, how could You-Know-Who
have made him sleep with her?”

Harry stopped walking and motioned Neville to the side.

“This is something else that you cannot breathe a word of to anyone,” Harry whispered. “Snape
used to be a Death Eater.”

Neville’s eyes grew wide and his mouth opened in shock.

“But he turned spy for Dumbledore before Voldemort fell. Dumbledore trusts him completely,”
Harry said quietly. “Hmm…I wonder if Snape knew anything about your Gran. Maybe that’s why he was
so upset when you used him and your gran’s clothes for the boggart lesson during our third
year.”

Neville looked at Harry and then they both broke out laughing.

“Maybe *that’s* why he turned back to our side. He didn’t want to have to service old
ladies,” Harry howled. “Or be forced to wear their clothes!”

“Stop, stop it Harry,” Neville said laughing. “My sides are killing me.”

Both boys fell on the floor holding their sides with laughter.

“Oh, I cannot believe today!” said Neville sobering. “This has got to be one of the worst days
of my life.”

“Yeah, but at least you didn’t wind up in the hospital wing,” said Harry. “I always seem to find
myself there *at least* once a year.”

“Well I guess I have something to be thankful for,” agreed Neville. “Oh and if anyone asks about
what happened to Trevor, tell them that I took him outside near the lake. He swam around for a bit
before the giant squid had him for a snack.”

“That’ll work,” Harry said as he checked his watch. “It’s almost time for dinner.”

“Yeah, like I’ll be able to get anything down!” laughed Neville.

*

By the time Harry turned in his first statement to the Board of Governors, it had gone through
at least five drafts. Hermione had helped him go through the text word for word. This tightened and
strengthened the document so that it no longer appeared to be a confession by a guilty party.
Instead, the final statement defended his actions while minimizing his culpability.

After Harry sent that letter off with Hedwig, he gave a great sigh of relief. His worries
weren’t over, but his first hurdle was completed. He also had an entire week before he had to worry
about doing any rebuttal statements. Hermione used this time to find a quiet corner and read ahead
for her classes. For the first time in weeks, Harry only saw her during classes and mealtimes.
Harry spent his time studying with Ron during this week. Ron had tried to help Harry with the legal
defence, but quickly found that he was a distraction. Hermione wound up re-explaining legal
concepts to Ron and he began to feel as if they be better off without him around and getting in the
way.

A week’s respite from working on the expulsion hearing ended much too soon in Harry’s mind. As
promised, on Thursday, May 2nd he received copies of all the testimony that had been
submitted. The owl post that day reminded him of war movies where a fleet of war planes would bomb
a target in rapid succession. The Gryffindor table was pelted with sheafs of letters. Each package
held twenty sheets of parchment. There were two hundred and twenty separate testimonies that had
been submitted and catalogued. Harry didn’t even want to open the parcels. Just looking at them
made his stomach sink. He knew that many of them would probably contain lies about him and he just
didn’t have the heart to read them.

Hermione on the other hand seemed to look at all the parcels as a great challenge. Once they had
stuffed all the packages of letters into their now bulging book bags, she insisted that she be the
first to look at them and sort them out. Harry was in no mood to argue and in fact was relieved
that she was taking charge once again in this matter.

The next day Hermione had secured the large table in the back of the library. She had covered
the table with books and papers.

“I sorted everything into three piles,” said Hermione. “The first are those who were too far
away to see anything. We can basically just catalogue those and give a blanket response to cover
them. The second are those who were supportive of you. We might want to pull some of those
highlights out for your oral testimony. And the third category are those that are critical or
damaging to you. We will need to respond to those point by point. We’ll have to figure out a way to
carefully discuss the problems with eyewitness testimony, without undermining the testimony that is
supportive of you.”

“What are the problems with eyewitness testimony? Either you saw something or you didn’t,” said
Harry perplexed.

“It’s not as simple as that,” said Hermione. “Lawyers know that people are sometimes very
unreliable in interpreting actions that happen right in front of them. For example, I came across a
story about a bank robbery that happened a few years ago in Texas. The bank was crowded and
everyone gave a description of the bank robber and how the robbery took place. The problem was that
*no one* described the robber as only having one arm.”

Harry laughed at that, “I guess he must have had a really big gun.”

“*Exactly.* The witnesses overlooked something important because they were focusing on
something else. That’s why we need to be careful. I don’t want to totally dismiss the legitimacy of
eyewitness testimony because we have some eyewitness statements that are supportive of you, but we
also have many statements that are harmful and claim to have seen you cast two spells.”

She straightened the stacks of paper and Harry once again started feeling his stomach sink. This
was turning into such an overwhelming task, yet Hermione seemed undaunted by the challenge. As she
leaned towards him to grab a sheet of parchment that had gotten loose, Harry caught a whiff of her
perfume. He had never noticed her wearing perfume before. She had always just had the clean smell
of shampoo that was pleasant. Now, she had the heady scent of musk.

Harry had noticed that other girls in his year had started wearing perfume and makeup. Lavender
wore green eye shadow and bright red lipstick as well as smelling like a bouquet of roses. Parvati
started wearing dark eyeliner and fuschia lipstick. Harry had once had the misfortune to walk
behind her and found himself enveloped in a cloud of perfume that smelled like grape bubble gum. It
had instantly given him a splitting headache.

As he breathed in Hermione’s scent he could only think of one word to describe it. Intoxicating.
He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift. He imagined that he was far away from Hogwarts,
without any worries of expulsion, exams, or Dark Wizards. He saw himself and Hermione standing
alone on a warm tropical beach in the moonlight. She was wearing a gauzy dress that billowed in the
wind clinging gently to her body. He leaned forward to bring her into his arms…

“Harry?”

Fingers were being snapped in front of his face.

“Harry? Did you hear anything I said?” asked Hermione.

“Umm, sorry. I must have drifted off,” he said dazed.

“I know this is hard, but we have so much ground to cover in only a few weeks. Plus with our
regular homework, your Quidditch practices, our upcoming final exams, along with the O.W.L.s, it’s
going to be tough getting everything done in time. But we’ll do it. We have to.”

Harry looked Hermione in the eye. He had never seen such fierce determination in them. The raw
power that he saw there awed him. Especially when he considered that such loyalty was being shown
towards him.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked softly.

She looked at him and squeezed his hand, “You’re my best friend. I don’t ever want to lose
you.”

Harry swallowed hard. It seemed that he had thought of nothing else for weeks. The fears he had
about his future after blowing up Aunt Marge were now magnified ten fold. He worried where he would
go and what he would do if he were expelled. Would Dumbledore be able to keep him around Hogwarts
like he did after Hagrid’s expulsion? Or would there be too much political pressure on Dumbledore
to not allow Harry to stay? He also thought about how old and tired Dumbledore had been looking. If
Harry were kept on at Hogwarts and Dumbledore died, what would happen then? Would he even be
welcome in the Wizarding World if they thought he was a Dark Lord in training? And what would it be
like if he were forced to go back to the Dursleys? Would he have to go to Stonewall High? Live like
a “normal” Muggle teenager? What would he do to make a living as an adult? That is if Voldemort
would let him live. Maybe he’d try to live in Little Whinging with Sirius or maybe the two of them
would wind up being fugitives together. Sleeping in caves and living off rats. Harry’s worst
thoughts centered about possibly losing contact with Ron and Hermione. His head ached.

Harry looked again at Hermione, it hurt just looking at her. He was so afraid he’d never see her
again if he were expelled. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t make any words come out. Instead he
merely nodded at her and gave a wan smile. *I don’t ever want to lose you either*, he
thought.

*

After Neville’s memory was restored he became a new person. He no longer struggled to remember
things and started raising his hand regularly to answer questions in class. Snape even seemed
downright civil to Neville. He didn’t ridicule him at all and Neville was now making potions with
ease. Ron teased him and suggested that Neville should have lost his toad years ago. Harry wondered
whether or not this had anything to do with Ron’s clairvoyance or if he was merely joking about a
pet that had annoyed him for years.

Harry kept surreptitiously asking Neville about how the plans were coming along to rescue his
parents. Finally on the third Saturday of May, Neville told him in the morning that they were set
to attempt it that day. Snape and Professor Figg were going to accompany him and Mrs. Norris who
was going disguised as Gran Longbottom. Dumbledore had borrowed a large vehicle from an old friend
and they were going to use that to transport the Longbottoms back to Hogwarts.

Even though he had a full day packed with Quidditch practice, reviewing rebuttal statements with
Hermione and his regular studies, the day seemed to last an eternity for Harry. His thoughts were
with Neville and his mind still wound up drifting towards what was happening at St. Mungo’s.

It wasn’t until late that evening that Neville finally returned to Gryffindor Tower, looking
exhausted. Harry went up to him and asked how it all went down.

“Not here,” Neville whispered. “Is anyone upstairs?”

Harry shook his head and they headed up to their bedroom. When they entered the room, Neville
collapsed on his bed.

“They’re here and they’re safe,” he sighed.

“What happened?”

Neville sat up and looked at Harry with a pained expression in his face. “Avery gave us a hard
time. He didn’t want to discharge them at all. Figg had come up with the plan to use the sores on
the hands as an excuse to get them out. So, Mrs. Norris said that she wanted to take her son and
daughter-in-law out of there so that they could get ‘home care.’ She said she had a nurse all lined
up to take care of them at home. It looked like it was going to take all day for them to release my
parents. I don’t know what they doing, but it took forever. Finally they had all the papers signed
and we got to move them into the van. As soon as we left the hospital, Snape did something that I
thought was strange. He clamped off their feeding tubes. I didn’t understand why he did that and he
wouldn’t explain until later.”

“What was wrong?” Harry asked.

“He did some kind of test when we got back. He took some of the food and added some powdered
chemicals and heated it in a glass tube. A silvery-black film was produced and he said it was
arsenic. Harry, they had been *poisoning my parents.* That’s what the dark spots on their
hands were due to. My grandmother knew what caused those spots because she must have authorized
Avery to slowly poison them to death. Snape thinks that the amount put in the last feeding bag was
a lethal dose. If he hadn’t stopped it when he did…” Neville shuddered.

“So did someone take the Catatonia curse off them?”

“Yeah, Figg did. But they’re still not well,” Neville said sadly. “Madam Pomfrey is looking
after them. They’re in a private room off of the hospital ward so that no one will know they’re
there. She said that the long term repeated use of the Catatonia curse has devastated their minds.
She likens it to stroke victims who have to relearn how to walk and talk. Plus their muscle tone is
completely gone. She has started them on Spirulina to help rid their bodies of the arsenic. She
thinks it may be a month or so before they’ll even start looking like their old selves again.”

“Did they recognize you?” Harry asked nervously.

“No, not yet. I think it’s going to take a while for them to recognize anything. They do look
awake now, so that’s progress. I plan on visiting them everyday and reading to them. Talking to
them and letting them get to know me.”

“That sounds very nice Neville.”

“I just kind of wonder what’s going to happen with Gran.”

“Did Dumbledore say anything about that?” Harry asked.

“He told me that until my parents can provide testimony to the Ministry of Magic, that he would
continue to ‘inconvenience’ her. He said that my testimony alone wouldn’t be good enough. Because I
was a small child when it happened as well as having a bad memory charm in place would make my
testimony suspect.”

“What about the arsenic in the feeding bags? Surely that can be used as evidence?” Harry
asked.

“I thought so too, but Snape said that they’d only accuse us of spiking the bags later in an
attempt to plant evidence.” Neville then paused. “I wonder where Dumbledore is keeping my
gran.”

“Well the castle is a large place and there are many secret rooms and passages. I’m sure he’s
got her stored away someplace safe,” Harry said reassuringly.

Later that night as Harry was drifting off to sleep he saw the image of the lush terrarium with
a large black beetle that he had seen in Dumbledore’s office. Sitting on the table next to it was
an aquarium with a large brown fish with dark black spots on it that had a jawbone resemblinga
horseshoe with teeth on the bottom of the fish tank. It was sucking the scum off the glass.

*

As the month of May wore on, Harry and Hermione started to have a little friction. He found that
every waking hour was spent either in class, doing homework, practicing Quidditch or working on his
rebuttals. Hermione thought he should be spending more of his time working on the rebuttals and
less time in Quidditch practices. This was something that he simply wouldn’t compromise on. Not
only did he feel it was necessary, but he also needed to do something physical that took his mind
off all the worries he had regarding expulsion.

The final Quidditch game of the season was going to be held on the last Saturday of the month
and it was between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. It would decide who would win the Quidditch Cup. Harry
was feeling incredible pressure about this game. Not only might it be the last game he would ever
play in, but he knew that the victory would depend on him. Ron was now unstoppable and would
probably shut out all attempts by the Ravenclaw Chasers to score. The match would come down to
which Seeker was luckier that day.

Harry had been amazed at how well Cho had flown in the earlier two Ravenclaw matches. Other
Quidditch players had seemed a bit rusty in the first match of the year, but not Cho, her playing
had improved dramatically over the summer holidays. Harry thought that she must live somewhere
remote enough to not worry about Muggles seeing her fly on a broomstick over the summer holidays.
He guessed that she had practiced obsessively during the summertime as a coping response to
Cedric’s death. Plus she now owned a Nimbus 2001 broomstick. It wasn’t as fast as Harry’s Firebolt,
but it was still an incredible racing broom. So Harry was really worried about his prospects in
facing her.

Two weeks before the match, the tension on the campus started to grow. Ravenclaw hadn’t won the
Quidditch Cup in fifteen years and they were hungry. Very hungry. They wanted that cup in a bad
way. There wasn’t the animosity that was shown two years before between Slytherin and Gryffindor at
that championship game, but there was a strong smell of competitiveness in the air. Ravenclaw house
was almost willing their victory by sheer desire. Hufflepuff hadn’t won the Quidditch Cup in over
twenty-five years and so understood and supported Ravenclaw’s quest for victory. Slytherin for the
first time in decades had lost every game of the season and was rooting heavily for a Gryffindor
defeat.

Another thing that added to Harry’s anxiety was that Cho was the captain for the Ravenclaw team.
It was being looked at as not only Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, but also Harry Potter versus Cho
Chang. Rumours about how Cedric died and Harry’s attentions towards Cho were being floated once
again by Slytherins in an attempt to undermine his confidence and concentration.

The morning of the Quidditch match was bright and sunny. The teams flew onto the Quidditch Pitch
and Harry went forward to shake Cho’s hand before the start of the game. As he looked at her, he
realized that he no longer had a crush on her. He still thought she looked really hot, but it was
more a dispassionate analysis than it was a physical reaction by him. Cho looked him squarely in
the eye and gave him a firm handshake.

“Hey, Harry. May the best team win,” she said tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Umm, agreed,” he said blinking.

They mounted their brooms and took their positions in the air. Madam Hooch stepped forward to
release the balls and start the game.

“Welcome to the final Quidditch match of the year where the Quidditch Cup will be decided.
Gryffindor leads the contest by only fifty points over Ravenclaw. It is really anyone’s game,”
announced Lee Jordan. “The Quaffle is released! Angelina Johnson grabs possession of the Quaffle.
She flies to the Ravenclaw end and passes to Katie Bell who SCORES! Ten points for Gryffindor!”

The Gryffindor Chasers then started in their formation to defend the scoring area. The
Ravenclaws had trained extensively to react to the zone defence. Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin
were both Chasers and they passed the Quaffle back and forth trying to get into a good scoring
position.

“Turpin has the Quaffle and shoots and ohhh, shot down by Ron Weasley the Gryffindor
Keeper.”

This set up a pattern where Gryffindor had possession of the Quaffle and would score on most of
the attempts, but Ravenclaw was unable to score at all. After an hour, the score was 70-0
Gryffindor.

“Ravenclaw could still win the Cup outright if they catch the Golden Snitch before Gryffindor
gets 100 points. No sign of the Snitch yet, though,” announced Jordan. “And another amazing stop by
Keeper Weasley! He’s on fire today.”

Harry had been scanning the skies and the field but hadn’t seen the Snitch. He found the
brightness of the day to be distracting. The sun kept reflecting off of gold watches, earrings,
bracelets, and other objects. He had seen the glints and almost took off flying a half dozen times
when he realized that the sparkle was coming from the stands.

The heat of the day also was difficult because of the long robes they wore as uniforms. Harry
started to sweat and was worried that he’d soon start having sweat pouring down his forehead and
smearing his glasses.

“The score is now 80-0, Gryffindor. If Ravenclaw wants to end their fifteen year drought,
they’re going to have to get on the board!”

Harry saw Cho squinting as well. She had an angry look on her face. She wanted to win badly and
felt embarrassed that her team was being shut out. It would be up to her to win. Her house started
chanting her name.

“Cho! Cho! Cho! Cho!”

The Gryffindors responded with pounding and clapping of “We Will Rock You!” The sounds in the
stands became deafening.

Just then Harry saw something shiny glint coming in front of the Slytherin stand. He turned his
broom towards it and as he screamed in the air towards it, he realized that it was a trick. Someone
had taken a mirror and was catching the sun’s rays on it. Meanwhile Cho had started to track him.
When he slowed down, she flew past him. He heard her curse when she realized that the Snitch was
nowhere near there. Her flying was becoming reckless.

“Another goal by Angelina Johnson! 90-0 Gryffindor.”

Harry looked at Cho. She had a desperate look about her. She was scanning and muttering under
her breath. Suddenly he saw the Golden Snitch. It was flying near where the Ravenclaw Chasers were
trying to get around the Gryffindor zone defence. Harry pointed his Firebolt in the direction and
went after the prize. He barely missed flying into Alicia Spinnet as the Snitch flew beneath the
Chaser. Cho quickly followed Harry and she screamed a war whoop as she came barreling up behind
him. He had barely missed being hit by a Bludger when he seized the Snitch and held it tightly in
his hand. Cho was there a split second after Harry, but she was unable to change the course of her
flight. Her broomstick impaled Harry. He felt as if a javelin was being driven through him. He
screamed in agony as he felt the hardened wood splinter his ribcage and enter his liver. The midair
collision knocked both of them to the ground. Blood was everywhere on the field. He blacked out
from the pain as he crashed to the earth.

Harry woke up later in the hospital wing. As he looked up, he saw Madam Pomfrey and felt her
hands touch his bare chest. There was an ethereal white light that emanated from them, a warmth
spread where she had touched him.

“Mr. Potter, I was wondering when I’d see you as a patient this year,” Madam Pomfrey said
wryly.

“What happened?” Harry asked groggily.

“You and Miss Chang collided in midair. You broke both legs, several ribs and your liver was a
complete mess. It’s a good thing Professor McGonagall brought you here when she did. You might have
bled to death otherwise. And it’s a damned good thing you didn’t do this in the Muggle world. You
would have had surgery that could have lasted for hours, if you would have survived at all.”

“Is Cho okay?” Harry asked.

“Yes, she’s in the bed next to you,” Madam Pomfrey replied gesturing towards Cho.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” Cho said tearfully. “I just really wanted to win and I lost all control. I
know that Quidditch is a rough sport, but I almost killed you. If my broomstick had been a slightly
different angle I could have pierced your heart rather than your liver. I am so sorry.”

“Yes, it is a bloody sport,” Madam Pomfrey muttered. “I’ll never understand why everyone gets so
wrapped up in it. Here Mr. Potter, drink this.”

She handed him a glass that held a greenish black liquid.

“Eccch. This tastes awful,” complained Harry.

“Yes, that potion has bile in it. Right now you need that to help your liver mend itself.
Drink,” she commanded.

Harry complied and finished drinking the vile tasting liquid. Madam Pomfrey then turned down the
sheets and placed her hands on his bare legs. The white light shone once again and he felt his
bones mending.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m fixing your broken legs, dear boy. You may have the Sight, but I have the Touch,” said
Madam Pomfrey.

As his other leg was being set, Harry noticed that Cho was looking at his legs. He felt quite
self-conscious that all he seemed to be wearing were boxers. Madam Pomfrey then took a cloth and
placed it in a basin of warm water. She squeezed out the excess water and then cleaned the dried
blood that was on his legs, arms and chest. The water quickly turned a reddish brown color. She
followed that with a towel to dry him off and then pulled the sheet and blankets back to cover
him.

Madam Pomfrey then started tending to Cho’s broken bones. Harry tried hard not to stare at her
legs in return, but found himself stealing a few glances. Seeing the radiating light from Madam
Pomfrey’s hands was so fascinating that he couldn’t help but watch the healing process. He now
wished again for the thousandth time that Gilderoy Lockhart hadn’t tried to fix his arm during his
second year. He would rather have had her healing touch than become de-boned and have to painfully
re-grow all his bones overnight.

After Pomfrey finished with Cho, she spoke to them, “Both of you will need to stay here for the
night to allow your bones to mend fully and for Mr. Potter’s liver to start healing. Hopefully
you’ll be able to leave sometime tomorrow afternoon. Excuse me, while I go speak with your
friends.”

Madam Pomfrey then walked over to the infirmary’s doors. Outside came the sound of dozens of
students all speaking at once.

“They need their rest. Both of them will be fine, but they’ve been through a terrible ordeal and
need bed-rest.”

Harry then heard Hermione’s voice pleading to come visit. He couldn’t quite make out the words,
but recognized the voice. Just hearing her being concerned about his welfare felt reassuring.

“All right,” Madam Pomfrey relented. “Two visitors for each patient and only for two
minutes.”

Lisa Turpin and Terry Boot came over to sit next to Cho. Harry then looked up and saw Ron and
Hermione sitting down next to him. Hermione’s eyes looked red and swollen. She looked like she
wanted to throw herself to hug him, but was restraining herself because of his injuries. Instead
she grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“Well, how are you?” she asked nervously biting her lips.

“Er, a bit sore,” he blinked, “but otherwise okay. Please don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t worry? You don’t know how awful it was to watch you almost die. I don’t know if I’ll ever
be able to go to another Quidditch match. I don’t think I could take seeing something like that
again,” she said as her eyes welled with tears.

“Umm, it *was* wicked,” sniffed Ron. “After McGonagall conjured stretchers and brought you
here, Professor Figg went out on the field and cleaned up all the blood. It was a real mess.”

“Well after today’s game I don’t think anyone can say that girls aren’t as competitive as guys,”
Harry said weakly.

Harry watched the tears stream down Hermione’s face. He tried to reach up to brush them away,
except that when he moved his arm, he found that it caused a sharp pain to course through his
chest. Hermione saw his face wince with pain.

“Don’t move Harry,” she said. “Please just rest.”

“Yes, that’s what they both need. Rest. Your time is up,” said Madam Pomfrey.

Hermione nodded and squeezed Harry’s hand again. She then leaned forward and fingered his amulet
before moving it to the center of his neck. She looked in his eyes as if to ask him about it, but
decided against it. Instead she gave him a kiss on the cheek. He could feel the wetness on her
cheeks and tasted the saltiness of her tears.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” she said.

“Come on, Hermione. We need to get going,” said Ron pulling on her arm. “There’s a party back at
Gryffindor Tower. We don’t want to miss all the food.”

She nodded and then cast a sideways glance at Cho before she turned to leave. Ron then put his
arm around her in a comforting gesture as they left the room.

Later Madam Pomfrey brought some rich broth for them to drink that seemed to warm Harry’s very
soul. As they lay there quietly watching the rays from the sunset bouncing off the walls, Cho broke
the silence.

“Harry, I never really thanked you for helping me out last fall. After your Quidditch match,
Summers Montague left me alone. I really appreciated your help.”

“It was nothing,” he said dismissively.

“No. It really helped and you stood up for me against a thuggish brute.”

“And I want to thank you for standing up for me on the first day of school,” Harry replied.

“Right after I did that, I had a ton of girls come up and ask about you. They all wanted to know
what you were really like. You know Harry,” she said coyly, “you could have your pick of girls
around here if you tried.”

Harry started to feel very uncomfortable about where this conversation was going. Here was his
first crush telling him how desirable he was to everyone else in school. He didn’t quite know what
to make of it. This felt worse than being the guy who girls turned to talk to about their “boy
problems.”

“How about you? Have you found anyone?” Harry asked desperately trying to change the
subject.

Immediately after he spoke, he wished he could have taken his words back. Would she think that
he was once again asking if she were interested in him?

“Yeah,” Cho said smiling. “I just started dating someone. He’s been my study buddy for years,
but we only recently started thinking of each other as ‘more than friends.’ We haven’t gone public
yet, so I can’t tell you who it is.”

Harry considered her statement and wondered if she were telling him the truth or if she just
trying to kindly brush him off again. He then thought about how awkward it would be if they did try
to date. He was in some part responsible for Cedric’s death and now she almost caused Harry’s
death. Not a good start for a healthy relationship.

“That’s nice. I’m happy for you,” he said dully.

“Harry, I think Hermione might like it if you two were ‘more than friends.’”

“Why do you say that?” he asked nervously.

“A girl can tell. I think she was very uncomfortable that we’re here together tonight. I saw a
look of jealousy in her eyes before she left.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

“Maybe. Harry you don’t want to wait too long. You might miss your chance *again*,” she
said slyly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, if you hadn’t waited so long to ask me to the Yule Ball, you might have asked me before
Cedric did. I would have said yes.”

Harry swallowed hard. “Would you have changed your mind about going with me when Cedric asked
you?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t go back on a promise like that.”

“So we…?”

“You never know what might have been,” Cho said softly. “I’m sorry Harry, but after Cedric’s
death I can’t even look at you without thinking of him. It’s just too painful,” then she gave him a
small smile. “Anyway, I just don’t want you to miss your opportunity again. Hermione is really
beginning to blossom. The guys are beginning to take notice and if you wait too long again…”

“Why do you think I want Hermione as a girlfriend?” Harry asked defensively. “I mean she’s
already got a big bulls-eye painted on her back for being my close friend. Why would I want to
endanger her anymore than that?”

“I’ve seen you two together in the library. You look very comfortable together. I think you’re
in love with her,” she said simply. “But you just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

Harry lay there looking at the ceiling and thinking about what Cho had said. *In love? Had he
fallen in love with Hermione?* He had been thinking about her a lot this past year. She had
started to dominate his dreams, but it was either that or Voldemort. He started remembering how
nice it was walking arm in arm with her under his Invisibility Cloak. Then he thought of when he
held her in his arms and comforted her after her break-up with Krum. How soft her hair felt as he
stroked it and how wonderful it smelled. He had been there for her as a friend, but he found
himself drawing as much strength from her arms as he knew he was giving her. His mind started
drifting to all the hours spent with her working on his legal defence. Selfishly he felt glad that
he had been able to spend as much time with her alone and to sit so close to her. Smelling her
perfume and thinking pleasant thoughts. It was undeniable the attraction that he was feeling
towards her, but was that *Love* or was it just his hormones?

Harry didn’t want to see her hurt. That thought seemed to immediately follow any amorous
feelings he ever had towards her. Maybe she’d be better off if she dated some else altogether. He
started wondering who else might be interested in her. As soon as he started going through the guys
in his year several faces immediately jumped out in his mind.

Draco Malfoy. He had cruelly teased her for years. Could it be that he was trying to cover up
being attracted to her? Harry scoffed at the very thought of Hermione and Draco. She’s sooner hex
him than kiss him.

Neville Longbottom. He had asked her to the Yule Ball. She had always been kind to him when
others were thoughtless or cruel. Now that Neville’s memory had been restored, he had become
confident and self-assured. Maybe Neville would now try to reach out to her.

Dean Thomas. He and Hermione had enjoyed leading the Gryffindor house in cheers at the Quidditch
games. Except for the spat about Millicent Bulstrode, Harry couldn’t think of any time when
Hermione and Dean had argued. They seemed to get along famously.

Then Harry realized who was probably the one person who was most likely to be in love with
Hermione. Ron. He had been intensely jealous and critical of Viktor Krum. He was also
overprotective and overly sensitive towards her at the same time. This led to them bickering almost
constantly. Harry began to wonder if this was Ron’s inept way of showing that he was interested in
her.

Harry then thought of how Ron had pulled Hermione out of the infirmary earlier that night and
then put his arm around her. Ron would have then comforted Hermione, similar to how Harry had done
after her break-up with Krum. Ron would be holding her in his arms and tonight they would be
together celebrating Gryffindor House’s win. They would be relaxing and enjoying each other’s
company without Harry being there. Would Ron use this opportunity to make his move with Hermione?
Ron had seemed rather put off by all the time Harry and Hermione had spent together in the last two
months working on his expulsion hearing. *Was Ron jealous of him?* Harry wondered.

Then Harry realized that he didn’t have a problem with the idea of Hermione being with Neville
or Dean, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Hermione and Ron together. No. Hermione would still be
in great danger from Voldemort and Harry would then feel like an outsider with his two best
friends. No, he did not want to even consider Ron and Hermione as a couple.

Harry had never tried to use his Mind’s Eye before, but now he started to concentrate on the
Gryffindor common room. He wasn’t even sure if he were having a vision or merely imagining what was
happening. He saw himself travelling through the castle, through the portrait hole and into the
common room. It was filled with Gryffindors rejoicing the win of the Quidditch Cup. He saw Neville
chatting amiably with Lavender and Parvati. Dean and Seamus were talking with a group of fourth
year students. The twins were holding court with Lee Jordan, Angelina, Katie and Alicia. Ron and
Hermione had just filled their plates with food and were walking over to an empty spot on the
couch. It was barely large enough for two people. They both squeezed in and Ron at first had sat
with his arms firmly at his side. But it was too crowded for him to eat, so he moved one arm around
Hermione’s shoulders. She looked a little surprised at first, but Ron gave her a friendly smile.
Then the quality of his smile changed and he began to lean closer to her.

*“STOP!”* Harry screamed inside his head.

Ron’s face looked up startled as if he had heard Harry’s cry. Then the vision ended and Harry
looked nervously around the infirmary.

“Stop what?” Cho asked.

“I-I didn’t say anything,” Harry protested.

“You’re right, you didn’t. I must have just imagined that,” said Cho. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. Now, thanks to you all I can think about is Hermione.”

“Like you didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about her before,” she said bemusedly. “I’m sure
that all she’s thinking about tonight is what you and I are talking about right now. I’m sure she’s
very worried about what you’re feeling towards me.”

*Better than her connecting with Ron,* Harry thought to himself.

*

After Harry was released from the hospital wing, he had one week to finish all the rebuttals.
Hermione had made notations on each sheet of testimony and decided which ones needed responding to
individually. By the time they were finished there were over thirty sheets of parchment to send off
to the Board of Governors. Hermione had spent so much time working on Harry’s defence that she
actually received a less than perfect score on essays for the History of Magic and Charms
classes.

As Hedwig and Athena took off from the owlery carrying the two packages of parchments, Harry and
Hermione collapsed in a heap of exhaustion.

“That’s finally over,” he sighed.

Hermione nodded, “Yeah, but we have the O.W.L.s starting a week from Wednesday and final exams
the week after that. And yes, then on the 24th we have your oral defence, but at least
you’re done with the Quidditch season.”

Harry shook his head at her smiling, “Can’t we just take one night off? Relax a little?”

She looked him square in the eye and said, “I won’t be able to relax until I know you’re coming
back next year. Besides, I am so far behind in reading for my classes to get ready for finals that
it isn’t even funny.”

*

That Friday after the Defence Against the Dark Arts class was dismissed, Professor Figg asked
Harry to stay after class. Following the rest of the class out the door, Ron and Hermione looked at
Harry quizzically while he just shrugged his shoulders. He walked up to the desk to see what his
teacher wanted. He noticed that she looked very tired, more than he had ever remembered seeing her
look.

“Umm, what is it?” Harry asked as he pushed up his glasses.

She looked at him and tugged at her ear, “So, Harry I need to ask your help with something.”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“First of all, could you bring that chair over here, my feet are killing me.”

“You look really tired,” he observed as he picked up one of the chairs and brought it behind her
desk.

“I am, but I don’t think the Headmaster would appreciate one of his instructors taking
afternoons off simply because they needed a nap,” she said yawning. Professor Figg then propped her
feet up on the chair and Harry noticed how swollen her ankles were. His eyes then traveled up her
legs and noticed the way her robes hung on her body. There was a large mound on her abdomen.

“Are you…?” he started.

“Yes, Harry,” she said smiling. “I’m pregnant. That’s what I need your help with. I’m due any
day and I want you and Hermione to help with my delivery.”

**

End notes: I’d like to say a few words about memory charm theories. Elkins did a fabulous job
assembling the various memory charm and reverse-memory charm theories that have been floated on the
Harry Potter for Grown Ups List Serv. I decided to pick and choose things that seemed likely to me
and also fit my plotline – as well as throwing my own ideas to make things extra complicated and
unpredictable. Anyone interested in reading about alternative theories on this topic can join the
list at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPforGrownups/ and be sure to check the archives starting at
message 38812. This topic generated numerous replies and is quite a lengthy discussion of various
theories, some are incredibly creative and wildly imaginative.

After I had a Freudian slip when I was turning dialogue over in my head and came up with the
name ‘Luscious Malfoy,’ I had such a fit of maniacal laughter that I knew I would have to include
it in my story. I know that I’ll never be able to read or hear his name the same way ever again. Of
course, it lost a little of its punch after the second movie came out and many adult women started
looking at Jason Isaacs and saying, “my isn’t he luscious.”

I had one reviewer mention when this story was published elsewhere that she didn’t like my
backstory for Lucretia Longbottom’s family. That was because of what JKR had written in PoA about
witch hunts being pointless. I thought that was a tad too sanitized for me, because in reality
witch hunts occurred and tens of thousands of innocent people were executed with the flimsiest of
evidence. If anyone is interested in reading a non-fiction account of this, I would suggest
“Witchcraze” by Anne Barstow or if you prefer fiction try the novel, “The Burning Times” by Jeanne
Kalogridis. I would also like to take this opportunity to credit Ms. Kalogridis with the idea of
The Touch and the ethereal white light around the hand as magical healing takes place. I liked that
idea, so I borrowed it for Madame Pomfrey.

In case anyone was wondering, the test that Snape did is called the Marsh test. I couldn’t
resist throwing in a little clinical chemistry in there. Of course there are newer and more
sophisticated tests used today to detect arsenic, but the Wizarding World isn’t exactly up on the
latest technology now are they? And yes, the black sores on hands (and feet) is a symptom of
arsenicosis.

Thanks once again to AnimeFanatic, Batgirl, darkstar, kinicky21, MostEvilKitten, NAPPA, Nicole,
and SamanthaMarie for their kind reviews. An answer to Batgirl’s question about Kneazles. The only
place that Kneazles are mentioned is in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Personally, I’m
betting that Crookshanks is a half-Kneazle. Otherwise, his tail would look like a lion’s tail and
not like a normal kitty.



14. Labour of Love
------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s Note: I'd like to thank my beta readers: Cara Hicks, Ama, Lanski author of "A
New Ghost" on The Dark Arts and Maria 1314. I wanted to elicit a little more feedback on this
chapter before releasing it for your consumption. I figured after reading childbirth scenes in
"The Red Tent," "Pope Joan," and "The Burning Times" that I could
also give the subject matter a go of it. Mine of course, has my own distinctive take on the matter.
Enjoy!

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Fourteen - Labour of Love

“You’re pr-pregnant?” Harry stuttered.

“Yesss,” Professor Figg said nodding.

“How?” He shook his head vigorously, “I mean, I *know* how, but…”

She laughed, “Did you think I was too old?”

“Uh, yeah. NO! I mean, you don’t look *that* old, but…”

“I am old enough to be your mother,” she said smiling.

“Uh huh.” Harry started feeling really stupid. As if nothing he said would be able to get him
out of the hole he was digging. Then he realized what he should have said at the beginning. “Oh,
umm, congratulations.”

“Thank you. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure if I could get pregnant. When Sirius came back
in my life, I knew that this would probably be my last chance to be a mother. That’s why I stopped
taking the aging potion. I wanted my ovaries to adjust to being back in a forty-four year old
woman’s body. Sort of like when Muggle women go off The Pill. It takes a few months to get back to
normal. Of course, they don’t have the potion-making skills that I do. And when I went back to help
him with the ‘Nadine problem,’ I wound up conceiving. I would have liked my due date to have been
later, you know after school got out, but there are just some things you have no control over. This
is one of them.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to use the Polyjuice Potion?” Harry asked.

“Yes. I don’t know what impact it would have on my pregnancy, but I didn’t want to take any
chances. That’s also why I wouldn’t use the Floo Network. I was afraid it might cause a
miscarriage.”

“Does Dumbledore know?”

“Yes, I told him a few weeks ago. He was very happy for me, but he was also a little
disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” Harry said sounding surprised.

“Yes,” she said laughing. “He thought he had finally found a teacher for this position that
would last more than one year!”

Harry joined her in laughing. “At least you didn’t turn out to be a Death Eater in
disguise.”

“Yes, I don’t know who he’ll get next year, but I plan on raising my child in a nice quiet
neighbourhood in Little Whinging, at least for the next two years or so.”

“So how did you want me to help?” Harry asked.

“I want you to be there at the birth. A birthing mother has many needs and it is more than a
single midwife can handle. When the time comes, I will also need you to bring Hermione with you. I
want her to tend to my personal needs. I want you to be there for Sirius, just in case he needs any
help.”

“He’s going to be there?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes, he wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Can I tell Hermione ahead of time or should I just wait until that day and bring her with
me?”

“You can tell her now, just be sure that you’re alone and that no one else hears you. Also, of
course you can’t tell her anything about Sirius. Remember, you won’t have met him before and his
name will be Joseph O’Brien.”

“I understand. I’m a little nervous though. I’ve never seen anything being born before,” Harry
said worriedly.

“Then you’re in for a real eye-opener,” she said. “Would you like to feel the baby move?”

Harry wasn’t sure about this, but didn’t want to insult her. “Sure,” he said as he stuck out his
hand.

She placed it on her belly and Harry felt the quick movement as the heel of the baby jerked.

“Whoa!” he said smiling.


*

Ron and Hermione were very curious why Professor Figg wanted Harry to stay after class. They
started pumping him for information as soon as he sat down for dinner.

“Umm, Harry what did Figg want to talk with you about?” Ron sniffed. “Was it about Mrs. Norris?
I haven’t seen that mangy cat around the castle for a couple of weeks now.”

“Er, no,” Harry blinked.

“Well, what was it then?” Hermione asked licking her lips.

“Umm,” Harry stammered. He couldn’t tell Ron the truth. He considered saying something like Figg
wanted to wish him well on the expulsion hearings, but he knew that he would get him into trouble
with Hermione. She had already reprimanded him for telling lies, so he started feeling a little
stuck as to how to answer Ron.

“I can’t tell you,” said Harry shaking his head.

Hermione looked a little disappointed, but nodded her head. Ron closed his eyes and looked as if
he were trying to concentrate hard. Harry then felt as if someone were trying to pick his brain.
“STOP THAT!” he screamed in his mind. Ron’s eyes flew open and he quickly bowed his head.

As they were finishing their meal, Harry asked Hermione to take a walk with him around the
lake.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Sure Harry,” she agreed.

Ron gave them a suspicious look as they left the Great Hall. Harry waited until they were far
away from the castle until he would tell her anything.

“Professor Figg needs our help,” he said.

“With what?” she asked.

Harry smiled at her, “She’s pregnant and due any day. She wants us to help her when she goes
into labour.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, “You’re kidding me!”

“No, it’s true.”

“Why does she want *us* to help her?”

“Umm, maybe she likes us?” Harry suggested. “She wanted someone she trusted to help her and uh,
we are pretty well known around here.”

“Did she want me to act as a doula for her?” Hermione asked.

“What’s a doula?” he asked.

“A birth attendant.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what she needs. Have you ever seen anything being born before?” Harry
asked.

“Yes. I’ve seen lots of kittens being born over the years and I also was at my cousin’s birth a
couple summers ago. She had a home birth.”

“Well, then you’ll be all set. I’m a bit nervous though,” Harry admitted.

“You’ll be fine. You’ve duelled with Voldemort, you can survive seeing a baby being born,” she
said laughing. “Did she say where she was going to give birth?”

“No, but I think probably somewhere around here.”

“So you don’t think it’ll be at St. Mungo’s?” she asked.

“Uh, no I don’t think so,” he said. Especially not when there are Death Eaters working there, he
thought to himself. “She did mention a midwife, but not Madam Pomfrey so I don’t even know if it’ll
be in the hospital wing.”

“Did she say who the father was?” Hermione asked.

“Uhh, I didn’t ask,” offered Harry. Technically that was true, he didn’t ask because he already
knew.

“Do you think it might be Snape?” she asked.

“No!” Harry said quickly with a horrified expression on his face. He shuddered at the
thought.

“You sound pretty confident about that.”

“Well, um, I don’t think Snape is her type,” Harry said.

“Who do you think it is?” Hermione pressed.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable talking about our teachers’ sex lives,” he said
blushing.

*

Ron woke up with a start. This time he hadn’t screamed. He looked around the room and got his
bearings. It was Monday and it was still before dawn, but he had to wake Harry. This premonition
dealt with him. He crept out of his bed and gently shook his sleeping friend.

“Harry, wake up,” he whispered.

“Wha – what’s going on?” Harry mumbled.

“I have to tell you something. Come on, get up,” Ron said as he handed Harry his glasses and
bathrobe.

Harry clambered out of bed and stumbled down the stairs. As they reached the common room, he was
somewhat coherent.

“What’s going on Ron?” he asked rubbing his eyes.

“I had another dream. This time it was about you,” Ron looked at Harry with a mixture of worry
and suspicion. “Harry, what are you hiding from me?”

“There are so many things I want to tell you about,” Harry said solemnly.

“Well, something is about to be revealed. It poses danger. There will be great trial and
tribulation as well as betrayal. I want you to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you
otherwise,” Ron said with determination.

“Ron, I’ve been sworn to secrecy. I wish I could tell you, but…” Harry shook his head sadly.

“Fine,” Ron spat. “Consider yourself warned.”

*

That morning at breakfast a tawny owl dropped a letter in front of Harry.

*Harry,*

*It’s time. Bring Hermione to Hagrid’s hut. Don’t worry about missing your classes.*

*AF*

Hermione looked up at Harry. “Is that…” she started.

“Yup,” he nodded. “It’s time to go. Ron, we’ll see you later.”

“Where are you two going?” Ron asked.

“Can’t say,” Harry replied before taking a final swig of pumpkin juice.

“Remember what I warned you about earlier,” Ron said with an angry edge to his voice.

Harry nodded as he left the table. Ron’s vision was weighing heavily on Harry’s mind. As he and
Hermione walked across the grounds he felt as if they were going out of bounds rather than merely
taking the familiar path to a friend’s house.

Harry knocked on the door.

“There yeh are,” said Hagrid. “Hermione, she needs yeh ta go ter the gardens and gather some
fresh lavender. Here’s some shears ter cut it with.”

She nodded, took the shears and immediately started for the gardens behind the greenhouses.

“What can I do?” asked Harry.

“Stay with her. I need ter go fetch the midwife.”

Hagrid left and now Harry was alone in the hut with Professor Figg. He saw her lying on her side
on the bed. She was wearing only a thin nightgown and was breathing slowly and deeply. He
cautiously walked over to her.

“Umm, hello, Professor Figg. Can I do anything for you?” he said pushing up his glasses.

She continued taking a few deep breaths and then opened her eyes to him.

“Harry I need you to knead my lower back. It’s in spasms,” she said grimacing.

She rolled over with great effort and turned her back to him. Harry awkwardly put his hands on
her back and started to rub. He could feel the knotted muscles in her back and tried to relax them,
but he seemed pretty inept.

“Professor, you didn’t use our signal.”

“So Harry,” she said sounding irritated, “I’m a bit tired for all of that right now. And believe
me – no one is going to Polyjuice into a woman in active labour. A little lower,
*lower*…that’s it. Keep rubbing.” She started breathing deeply again.

Harry felt a little sheepish for having questioned her identity at such a sensitive time. He
also knew that he had to bring up Ron’s vision with her before Hermione returned. He took a deep
breath and then plunged forward.

“Er, Professor, there’s something I have to tell you. Ron had a premonition this morning. He
said that something was about to be revealed and that it posed danger. There will be great trial
and tribulation as well as betrayal.”

As her contraction ebbed, so did her deep breathing. She looked up at Harry, “Secret to be
revealed? Yup, I’m giving birth! I used Disillusionment charms to help hide my pregnancy, I can’t
do that with a newborn.”

“Well what about the trial and tribulation?” he asked.

“That’s called being in labour.”

“Betrayal?”

“My baby’s facing the wrong way. So I’ve got back labour. That’s close enough for betrayal for
me. Thankfully it wasn’t breach. Ugh, I need you to use your knuckles, not just your hands,” she
said through clenched teeth.

Harry tried his best to knead her tense back muscles.

“Lower, lower!” she barked. “Knuckle it, *harder*!”

“Maybe Sirius shouldn’t come. He might be in danger,” Harry urged.

“Harder!” She started another round of deep breathing. After about forty seconds or so, her
eyelids fluttered open again. “He’s on his way. He’d never miss this. Besides, I need him
here.”

“But Ron predicted Charlie’s death the morning it happened. His powers of clairvoyance are
becoming very strong. I’m worried and now that he had this vision this morning…” Harry said.

“What time did he have his vision?”

“About five this morning.”

“That’s about the time I went into active labour,” she said breathing deeply. “He just saw my
day.”

At that point Harry realized that it wouldn’t do him any good to argue with her. If Ron’s
prediction foresaw danger, there was nothing he could do about it now. It would be better for him
to just see to his teacher’s needs.

“Is anyone teaching your classes today?” Harry asked.

“Dumbledore,” she said exhaling.

Hermione opened the door with her arms full of lavender. “I hope this is enough. It’s not quite
in bloom yet, but hopefully it’ll work for you.”

Professor Figg nodded weakly. “Bring that over here, crush some of it so I get a good whiff of
it.”

“Do you need me to charm the windows?” Hermione asked.

“No, I did that already,” she replied.

Professor Figg started breathing deeply again as another wave of contractions took hold. The
front door opened and Sirius Black entered. He looked strong, tall, handsome and confident as he
strode across the cabin to Professor Figg’s side. He knelt down, kissed her forehead and smoothed
the hair from her face.

“Bella, how are ya?” he asked warmly.

“Hangin’ in there, Joseph,” she said with a strained smile.

Harry stuck out his hand toward Sirius, “Hello, I’m Harry Potter and this is Hermione Granger.
We’re students here.”

“G’day, Harry, Hermione. I’m Joseph O’Brien. It’s good to meetcha,” Sirius said as he stood up
and shook their hands.

Hermione gave a shy smile and brushed the hair out of her face. Harry was surprised to see her
blushing slightly. The last time he had seen her act that way toward anyone was Gilderoy Lockhart.
He felt a twinge of something like jealousy hit him, but then he felt relieved when he realized
that she didn’t seem to recognize Sirius through his disguise.

Sirius climbed into the bed next to his lover and started whispering in her ear. She nodded
softly and seemed to relax immensely by his presence. He placed a hand on her swollen abdomen and
kissed her neck. She moved his hand to the small of her back.

“I need you to knuckle it. I’ve got back labour,” she said hissing.

He did as he was told all the while whispering in her ear. Hermione waved wands of lavender over
the bed and soon Harry could smell the aromatic scent wafting through the room. She then sat down
on the other side of the bed and started giving words of encouragement to Professor Figg.

A short while later Hagrid returned with the midwife. The midwife was a middle-aged witch who
had a long braid of dark brown hair down her back. She looked like a warm, compassionate, but
no-nonsense woman. Hagrid was carrying a large object draped under a piece of cloth. As they
entered the hut, Professor Figg looked up and smiled weakly.

“Rebecca…” she said.

“Arabella, how are you doing?” Rebecca asked.

“Okay, my water broke at five this morning.”

“Yes, well let me examine you,” the midwife said as she set her black satchel on the floor.

Harry wasn’t sure what that examination would entail, but he felt that he should give them some
privacy and walked to the other side of the cabin. Hagrid removed the cloth and set down a large
armchair with a hole cut in the seat. Sirius got out of the bed and walked over to Hagrid and stuck
out his hand.

“You must be Hagrid. Arabella’s told me all about ya. I’m Joseph O’Brien.”

“Good to meet ya, Joseph,” Hagrid replied shaking his hand.

“Very decent of ya to let Arabella use your place for this,” Sirius said.

“It’s nothin’ but ah, I gotta get goin’. I got me classes to teach,” Hagrid said as he left the
hut.

“G’day Hagrid,” Sirius said, “it was good to meetcha.”

The midwife lowered the hem of Professor Figg’s nightgown.

“Good, you’re at about five and a half centimetres. You are progressing very well. Have you
voided recently?” Rebecca asked her.

“No.”

“Well maybe your partner can help you,” Rebecca. “Excuse me, but what is your name?”

“Joseph O’Brien,” Sirius replied.

“Hello Joseph, I’m Rebecca Nurse. Why don’t you see if you can help get her to the loo. We need
to keep her hydrated and also make sure she voids regularly.”

Sirius started to help lift Professor Figg into a standing position. As she stood and took a
step, a wave of contractions hit. This time it was more intense because she changed her breathing
to short, shallow puffs of air. She would breathe that way for almost a minute and then stop. Each
step she took caused another wave of contractions to hit her. She hung in his arms and tears
started to flow down her face from the pain.

“Can’t you give her something?” Harry asked the midwife.

“I’m sorry, your name is?” Rebecca replied.

“I’m Harry Potter and that is Hermione Granger,” he answered.

“Oh, yes. You two did look a little familiar,” she said stifling a smile. “Well Harry there are
some herbs I give to labouring women, but generally only when they are very weak or in excruciating
pain. But she’s doing quite well. I don’t want to give her anything that will numb her ability to
control this birth. You grew up in the Muggle world didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well there is the common perception by Muggle doctors, especially male doctors that childbirth
is something that can be managed by modern medicine. Muggle hospitals tend to rob women of being
fully able to own their birthing experience. Women are far too often given harsh induction drugs,
numbed with painkillers, strapped down to monitors and IV poles, forced to lie flat on their backs
and told not to move. Too many women wind up being sliced open because these practices cause the
babies to go into fetal distress or it is decided that the women ‘are failing to progress.’ It
wasn’t too long ago that Muggle women were put in restraints during childbirth because those male
doctors thought that if women moved their arms or legs that it would interfere with a ‘sterile
field,’” Rebecca said giving a hollow laugh. “You’ll see that giving birth is an organic experience
and not a sterile procedure. If these Muggle doctors allowed women the freedom to move about and to
follow their body’s instincts like billions of women that have come before since the beginning of
time – we wouldn’t have a fraction of those Caesareans.”

“You don’t seem to like male doctors,” Harry observed.

“Not when it comes to treating women’s childbirth and The Change,” she said bitterly. “Men who
have never even experienced simple menstrual cramps cannot possibly understand what it is like to
give birth or to go through menopause. And for them to treat women as addle-minded children, well I
have to restrain myself from throwing hexes at the lot of them.”

“So you’re not going to give her anything?” Harry asked again.

“No, she doesn’t need it. Any drug I would give her now might interfere with her ability to
respond to her own bodily instincts. She’s doing fine.”

Harry looked over at Professor Figg who had finally reached the door to the loo. She looked
exhausted and in pain. Sirius was there and supporting her physically and emotionally. Harry had to
admit that Professor Figg had been right, she did need him there.

As the day wore on, Harry noticed Professor Figg’s demeanour change. She no longer spoke between
the waves of contractions. Her eyes were closed the entire time and she seemed to be dreaming or
hallucinating between her bouts of rapid breathing. Sirius continued to rub and knead her back and
her thighs when she developed a cramp in a new set of muscles. After a few hours Sirius became
exhausted and asked Hermione to spell him for a few minutes. Harry then was asked to massage
Sirius’s tired forearms and hands.

Rebecca examined Professor Figg again and said that it would probably be at least another two
hours before the baby was born. She suggested that Harry and Hermione bring a late lunch back for
everyone and some broth and ice chips for Professor Figg.

As Harry and Hermione crossed the grounds they passed by Hagrid’s fifth year class for the Care
of Magical Creatures. A class that they were supposed to be attending. He felt guilty to be seen
walking around school and not in class. It didn’t help matters to know that both Ron and Malfoy
were staring at them with suspicious looks on their faces.

They went directly to the kitchens to get food from the house-elves. As they were waiting for
the lunches to be packed up, Hermione turned to him.

“You were right Harry. Snape is not her type. That Joseph O’Brien is sure dreamy. But there’s
something about him…he reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite put my finger on it,” she said.

Harry was afraid she might figure out the truth, so he thought a little misdirection might
help.

“Maybe an actor from the movies?” he suggested.

“Maybe, but somehow I think it’s someone I know personally,” she said racking her brains.

“How about an older version of Pierce Brosnan with a moustache? Or maybe Timothy Dalton?”

“Ohhh,” she said dreamily. “I hadn’t thought of them. Mmm.”

Harry hoped that thinking of those two actors might distract Hermione’s mind. He knew that his
Aunt Petunia got the vapours with both Brosnan and Dalton and hoped that it might have the same
effect on Hermione. He glanced at the faraway look in her eyes and thought that it might just have
done the trick.

“Here are your meals,” Dobby said as he handed them four bags worth of food.

“Thank you Dobby,” Harry said.

“Anytime,” the house-elf cheerfully replied, “and Miss Hermione, we are waiting for your
orders.”

“We can’t move forward until Harry’s legal troubles are over. After that’s done we shall begin,”
she said smiling broadly.

“I haven’t asked you about your house-elf project in awhile. How is it going?” Harry asked.

Hermione paused before they left the kitchens and smiled at him. “I finished their training
about two months ago. Which was good because I needed to use that time on your legal defence. They
are ready for the coming revolution. We just have to worry about the timing. I had originally
wanted to do it on Juneteenth, but we had to postpone it because your verbal defence is on June
24th. I didn’t want to start anything that might harm your situation with the Board of
Governors.”

“What’s Juneteenth?” Harry asked.

“Oh, that’s the day that Blacks in the States celebrate the anniversary of the Emancipation
Proclamation. The news spread by word of mouth and there wasn’t any particular day that the slaves
found out about it, so June 19th was chosen to celebrate as Juneteeth a day of
liberation,” explained Hermione. “I just thought it would be a good symbolic day to use. Now, I’m
leaning towards the Fourth of July to coincide with the start of the American Revolutionary War. I
also took a page out of Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s book,” Hermione said smiling.

“Who’s she?”

“She’s one of the many important women in history that have been either lost or forgotten. She
was an American woman and came with her husband on their honeymoon to London in 1840 to attend a
world convention on the abolition of slavery. They were horrified to find that women were not
allowed to participate and forced to sit separately in a balcony. She and Lucretia Mott vowed that
they would do something about injustices towards women. Eight years later they organized the first
convention ever held on women’s rights in Seneca Falls, New York. Cady Stanton took Thomas
Jefferson’s text of the Declaration of Independence and altered the wording slightly to list the
transgressions men had made against womankind. She called it the ‘Declaration of Sentiments.’ So I
did the same thing in regards to the transgressions the Wizarding World has committed against the
house-elves and came up with the ‘Declaration of Liberation.’ I’ll be sending a copy to *The
Daily Prophet* on July 4th.”

“It’s really going to happen isn’t it?” Harry asked.

“Yep, the Wizarding World will never be the same,” she said grinning as she pushed open the door
to leave the kitchens.

“How do you know so much about American History?” Harry asked. “I don’t even know that much
about British History.”

“I started reading up on the abolitionist and women’s suffrage movement in the States last
summer before we went travelling. I wanted to learn from the lessons of the past,” she
answered.

Harry marvelled at her dedication. This was more than just memorizing notes or studying for an
exam. She had a sense of knowing how to tackle thorny problems or where to look for answers. She
wasn’t just clever, she was brilliant.

After they returned to Hagrid’s hut they took turns eating and tending to Professor Figg.
Several hours later the midwife announced that she was almost fully dilated and that the baby would
be here soon. Professor Figg’s hair was plastered to her head and her entire body was drenched with
sweat.

“Arabella, it is time to go onto the birthing chair and I think you should dispense with
modesty. Women naturally birth in the nude. It’s more comfortable,” Rebecca stated firmly. “And if
you don’t feel comfortable being naked while birthing in front of these people, you shouldn’t have
invited them to be here.”

Professor Figg looked up at her, placed a hand about her neck and shook her head weakly. Rebecca
looked at her with exasperation.

Harry was thankful for that. He hadn’t wanted to see Professor Figg in the nude. Seeing her in
the thin nightgown was revealing enough. He could see the breasts that Ron and the other boys had
lusted over were now huge and resting heavily on her extended abdomen. Harry was reminded of the
Venus of Willendorf that Hermione had gone on about a few months earlier. She had claimed that the
small little figurine of a large figured female had been revered as a symbol of the Great Mother.
All he saw when he looked at it was an abstract image of a really fat woman. As he looked at
Professor Figg he was in awe of the sheer power emanating from her body. He could now imagine that
people had worshipped birthing mothers.

“Harry, help me move Arabella onto the birthing chair,” Sirius called.

They each put an arm behind her back and helped to lift her out of the bed. She was lowered onto
the chair that Hagrid had brought. The midwife reached down and placed a large basin directly under
the hole in the seat.

“What’s that for?” asked Harry.

“To catch blood,” Rebecca answered, “birthing can be a messy process.”

“Is that where the baby will go?” he asked.

“No,” she laughed. “Someone will catch the baby.” She then turned to Sirius, “Joseph, would you
like to catch your baby?”

His eyes grew wide, “Yes.”

“Okay, let’s see how she is doing,” Rebecca said as she knelt down and examined her patient.
“It’s almost time. Hermione, please hand me the bottle of oil and those warm compresses over
there.”

Hermione retrieved the items that had been set out on a nearby table and gave them to the
midwife. Rebecca took the bottle of oil and poured it over the warm damp cloth and then placed it
between the legs of her patient.

“This is to help relax your perineum so that it will stretch. I never cut women if I can help
it,” Rebecca said. “If you feel the need to bear down, then go ahead and push.”

Professor Figg seemed to be gathering strength. Her face contorted into a grimacing scowl that
looked like a gorgon’s head and she gave a loud grunt as she pushed.

“Yes, I can feel the crowning,” Rebecca said warmly, “Joseph come here.”

Sirius knelt beside the chair with his hands extended.

“And push!” Rebecca directed.

Professor Figg gripped the arms of the chair and gave another loud push. As she leaned forward
her amulet swung out of the top of her nightgown. Harry looked up at Hermione. She was staring at
the amulet hanging around Professor Figg’s neck. She absentmindedly touched her locket and then met
Harry’s gaze. He knew the unspoken question that was in her eyes and shook his head slightly.

“The head is coming, it’s almost out…and PUSH!”

Grrrrrrr.

Harry watched in amazement to see a baby’s head emerge that was covered with thick black hair.
Then came the shoulders.

“Another push should do it.”

Grrrrrr.

And then came the baby’s torso, then the legs and finally a long umbilical cord. Sirius had
tears in his eyes as he cradled the small babe in his hands. He then carefully brought the baby up
to his lover’s chest.

“Hello there little one,” she said gazing into her child’s open eyes.

Sirius quickly moved to embrace Professor Figg from behind.

“I love you,” he said kissing the top of her head.

Harry noticed that the umbilical cord was still pulsating. The two parents gazed at their child
for nearly ten minutes in wonderment. Then Rebecca instructed Professor Figg to give another push.
Out came the placenta.

“Good. Everything looks intact,” Rebecca announced.

“I can’t stand it any longer,” said Hermione. “Is it a boy or girl?”

“Oh, that!” Professor Figg said absentmindedly as she looked between the baby’s legs, “She’s a
girl.”

“She’s beautiful,” said Sirius, “just like her mother.”

Harry was looking at the small child and saw the beautiful blue eyes that were open wide and
staring at everyone.

“Her fingers are so small,” he said with a voice filled with amazement. “And look at her little
fingernails.”

Rebecca reached into her satchel and removed two clamps and placed them close together on the
cord near the baby. She turned again to Sirius, “Would you like to cut the cord?”

He nodded in reply.

Harry fished into his pocket and removed the pocket-knife that Sirius had given him as a
Christmas present. He handed it to his godfather.

“Use this,” Harry said.

Sirius smiled as he recognized the knife, “Thanks Harry.”

He cut the cord and Rebecca took the afterbirth and placed it into a bag. Professor Figg slowly
stood and walked with great effort back to the bed.

“It’s time I try feeding you, little one,” she said as she placed the baby to a breast. Sirius
climbed into the bed and his lover leaned back resting in his arms.

“Have you thought of a name for her?” asked Hermione.

“Yes. I was hoping for a daughter because I had the perfect name,” Professor Figg replied. “I
heard about the most incredible woman named Soraya Mire. (Sore-RYE-ahh Mere-RAY) She’s a Somali
filmmaker and is a crusader against the practice of female circumcision. She’s very brave and very
beautiful. I’d like to name our daughter Soraya. The name means shining star. The *brightest*
shining star.”

Sirius looked at her and his eyes were wet with tears. “That’s perfect,” he croaked.

Harry knew that Sirius was touched that she had found a way to honour his own heritage without
being obvious.

“Arabella, did you have any plans for your placenta?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes, Hagrid has an apple tree ready to plant,” Professor Figg replied. “I’m sure that Soraya
would love to know when she comes to school here that a tree was planted on the day she was born.
Harry, can you take the placenta and go find Hagrid? Classes should be over by now.”

He nodded and took the large bag that held the afterbirth. As he opened the door he saw that
Hagrid had been patiently sitting outside and whittling.

“So, is it a boy or a girl?” Hagrid asked.

“It’s a girl,” Harry announced proudly. “A beautiful baby girl. They named her Soraya.”

“That’s an unusual name,” Hagrid said.

“Not as unusual as some of the names I’ve heard since I found out I was a wizard,” Harry
replied. “We’re supposed to take this and plant a tree.”

“Yes, Arabella had that all figgered out,” Hagrid said as he stood. “Come on, it’s over this
way.”

They walked over to a grove of fruit trees that was near Hagrid’s hut. After they dug a hole and
planted the apple tree, Harry realized that he was getting really hungry. His stomach was growling.
It had been hours since they had eaten and now he was famished. In the last year, he had noticed
that his appetite for food had grown dramatically. He could put away nearly twice as much food had
he had the previous year and still not gain any real weight. As he returned inside the cabin, Harry
saw that Professor Figg had gotten dressed and looked relaxed and at peace. Hagrid went over and
started to coo at the little baby.

“We should think about what you’d like to eat. New mothers tend to feast after giving birth,”
Rebecca said. “After all, you should have worked up an appetite with all that work you did
today.”

“Yes, I could eat a horse,” Professor Figg agreed. “I think I’d like roast beef, mashed
potatoes, lots of gravy, a salad, apple pie with vanilla ice cream…”

“Hermione, why don’t you and Harry bring some of that back for everyone to share?” Rebecca
asked.

“Sure,” she said nodding.

A small tinny noise started coming from Sirius’s shirt pocket. He withdrew a parchment and
looked at it with a look of dread in his eyes. Sirius and Professor Figg exchanged a worried
look.

“I’m sorry Arabella, I have to leave,” he said as he gave her a kiss. Then he leaned down and
kissed Soraya on the forehead. “I’ll try to come and visit tomorrow.”

Sirius said goodbye to everyone and left the house quickly. Harry started getting a sick feeling
in the pit of his stomach. He was afraid that there was another attack back at Privet Drive. He
looked at Professor Figg and knew from the look in her face that his fears were justified.

“Come on Harry, let’s go to the kitchens,” Hermione urged.

He nodded and they started walking across the lawn. They had gotten halfway to the castle when
he started to feel a burning sensation on his chest. His amulet was heating up.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He scrambled to recall what Professor Figg had said last
summer about the amulets. He remembered something about them being linked in spirit to a few others
and that if someone was in mortal peril that they could activate it and the others would heat up.
As the stone started to burn his skin he began running back to Hagrid’s hut.

“Harry? Where are you going?” Hermione called after him.

He didn’t answer. Harry ran as fast as he could to the hut and wrenched open the door. He looked
at Professor Figg’s distraught face and knew that his worst fears were realized. It had to be
Sirius.

Hermione followed him and came panting into the hut, “Harry what’s going on?”

Professor Figg was holding the amulet in her hand, “Touch it Harry, then close your eyes and
listen carefully.”

As Harry held the amulet in his hands, he found that it no longer burned, but was still
uncomfortably warm. He could also see through Sirius’s eyes. Sirius had been immobilized and was
being taken forcibly off the path to Hogsmeade and was being brought into the Forbidden Forest by
Pettigrew, Bode, Croaker and Macnair.

Then Harry heard the voice of Dumbledore, “Remus, Fletcher, you must both remain at the Zone and
provide security there. Harry, go get your broomstick and Invisibility Cloak and meet Professor
Snape at the gate leading to Hogsmeade. Under no circumstances are you to attempt to rescue Sirius
by yourself. Severus, you and Harry will fly about the forest doing reconnaissance until you come
up with a plan of attack. There may be more Death Eaters lying in wait or that might join them
soon. Be certain before you act. And Harry, know that *this is* a trap. Their intention is to
see all three of you dead. Make no bargains or trades with them, because it would be
meaningless.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Professor Figg who was feeding her daughter.

“Do what you can to bring him back to me,” she said solemnly. “But don’t take any unnecessary
risks. Your life is more important than his in the grand scheme of things.”

Harry nodded and then ran for Gryffindor Tower to retrieve his broomstick and Invisibility
Cloak. It was times like this that he wished he didn’t always lock his trunk. He would have rather
tried a summoning charm to get those items to fly to him through the warm Spring air.

He ran pell-mell through the castle until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Lavender and
Parvati had just given the password and were about to climb through the portrait hole when Harry
barged in front of them knocking books out of their hands.

“Sorry,” he called after himself.

Harry dashed through the common room and ran up the stairs three at a time. He quickly unlocked
his trunk, threw open the lid and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and Firebolt. He was just about to
leave when he saw Ron with his arms crossed and blocking the doorway.

“Where have you been Harry?” he demanded.

“I can’t talk now Ron,” Harry said as he tried to get around him. “*I gotta go*.”

“Go where?”

“Ron if you don’t move I’m going to hex you. I’ll tell you later, but *I have to go
now.”*

“Harry, remember the vision I had? It’s coming true, right now,” Ron said warningly. “Let me
help you.”

“You can’t. Now, MOVE.” Harry said.

Ron remained steadfast in the doorway and Harry wound up pushing him to the side. He ran down
the stairs, across the common room and out the portrait hole. He ran through the castle and as soon
as he was outside he mounted his broom and flew to the gates to Hogsmeade. Snape was waiting there
for him.

“Okay, now what?” asked Harry.

“We need to find where Black is being held and figure out a way to get him loose,” Snape said.
“Albus suggested that we fly and use your Invisibility Cloak to help give us the element of
surprise. Since you’re familiar with your broomstick, I suggest that you fly and I’ll hold onto you
and the Cloak.”

Harry swallowed hard. He was going to be flying with Snape on his back. He had never flown with
anyone on his broomstick before, but he never envisioned having his least favourite teacher being
his first passenger.

Harry moved up further on the broomstick and Snape swung one leg over the handle. Snape took the
Invisibility Cloak and threw it over their heads. He held it with one hand and had another arm
firmly around Harry’s waist.

“All right, Potter. Let’s see how well you can fly this thing,” Snape said.

Harry kicked off the ground hard and found that it was more difficult to fly with the added
weight, but it still was far better than the old school brooms that were used for flying
lessons.

As they were flying over the forest Harry watched the sun’s rays getting longer. Instinctively
he was heading in a north-easterly direction. He was being drawn to something.

“Potter, you must realize that they will want to take you prisoner. That he’ll want to kill you
himself. Same with me, but I’ll be tortured slowly. Black they’ll just kill outright. That is once
they’ve gotten hold of you.”

“So what do we do?” Harry asked.

“We find where they are and we figure out a plan. So far we know we will be facing four enemies.
Two against one. We can overcome that, but I’m hoping it won’t be more. They won’t know about the
amulets, so they’ll be setting their trap now. They have Black as bait and will be sending a
message to you in order to lure you to save him. If you see a messenger owl coming towards you, we
must destroy it. We cannot allow it to return to them.”

Killing owls. Harry never thought he’d kill an owl, but he understood that if an owl found him
while they were flying above the forest it would return immediately to Wormtail. This would give
them notice that Harry was nearby.

“We also cannot kill them,” Snape continued.

“I thought you just said we’d have to destroy an owl,” Harry said perplexed.

“I meant our enemies. We cannot kill them. We’d be put in Azkaban for that. We have to subdue
them and bring them back. Do you know how cast the Stupefy hex?” Snape asked.

“I used it once during the third task last year,” Harry said. “That was when Krum was under the
Imperius curse and was casting the Cruciatus curse on Cedric. I knocked Krum out, but when I tried
using the Stupefy hex on an Acromantula it didn’t work.”

“I wouldn’t use it then,” Snape answered. “Use only what you know. Use only what you’re good at.
Don’t try anything new or something you’re not confident in, because if it doesn’t work you could
die.”

The amulet started warming up again and Harry decided to hover for a moment. He took one hand
off the broomstick and held the amulet and closed his eyes. He could now hear Pettigrew’s
voice.

“Padfoot, my old friend. How different you look from the last time we talked. You had looked
thin, dirty and bedraggled. Now you’re fit, handsome and dare I say it, *older.* My, my, my,
if I hadn’t seen your form last Christmas with Moony, I don’t know that I would have recognized you
today. Ahhh, but we were tipped off that something strange was happening at school today. Arabella
Figg not teaching her classes and the famous Harry Potter cutting classes as well. I was hoping
that somehow it would involve you, because I know we’ll be able to get that cursed brat to come try
and rescue your miserable hide.”

Wormtail was walking past a cage that held Sirius inside bound and gagged. There were also two
smaller empty cages that looked like they were for owls.

“Yes, I am enjoying having you as a prisoner. Did you ever realize that I resented you at
school? You were the darling of everyone. Brave, handsome, smart and athletic. Every girl wanted
you and you knew it. No one wanted poor Peter. You didn’t even want to include me in the Marauders
gang. James had to talk you into it, because he said it wouldn’t be fair to leave me isolated and
alone. Did you think I didn’t know about that? You would have shunned me if it wasn’t for James…I
know that look in your eyes, Padfoot, but I had no choice in the matter. The Master wanted to see
them dead. I could not disobey a direct order from him. And tonight I shall be rewarded for
bringing that dratted boy back to him. He’s decided that he won’t use magic this time to kill him.
A simple beheading will suffice. Of course, *you* won’t live long enough to see it. And if
we’re lucky maybe Moony will also come to join in the festivities. I have something special planned
just for him.”

Wormtail looked fondly at his silver hand and then flexed his fingers menacingly.

Harry dropped his amulet and took a deep breath. He thought of how he had predicted his own
death by decapitation the year before in Divination class and he shuddered.

“Potter, what did you hear?” asked Snape.

“Pettigrew was talking to Sirius. They plan on taking me back to Voldemort and chopping my head
off. Once they have me, they’re going to kill Sirius.”

They began flying again over the forest and as Harry looked down he knew they passed the lair of
the Acromantulas. He was hoping he would never have to see them again. He also saw some of the
centaurs and wished somehow that they might intervene on his behalf. An eagle owl flying parallel
to him was holding a message in its claws. Snape pointed his wand and called out
*“Obliviate!”*

The spell hit the large bird directly in the head. The owl dropped the letter and cocked its
head. It then began looking down on the floor of the forest for prey.

“Good,” Snape said, “they won’t know we’re already on our way.”

“I thought you were going to kill the owl,” Harry said.

“I changed my mind. I decided we didn’t need to kill the messenger. That owl will never return
to its master. It’s now a free bird that will never be useful for wizards again,” Snape said.
“Potter, do you have any idea of what you plan on doing when we get there?”

“Not really. I know the disarming charm and quite a few hexes. I’ll do my best to incapacitate
them and you can then disable them.”

“We will have to split up,” Snape said. “They’ll be expecting you, but they won’t know about me.
I suggest that we keep that element of surprise by letting me use the Invisibility Cloak after we
separate.”

“Okay,” Harry said quietly.

They were now coming to a small clearing in the treetops. Harry could see Sirius being held in
the cage far below them. He flew around the area and found where Bode, Croaker and Macnair were
hiding behind trees and large stones. They all had their wands extended waiting for something to
happen.

“Where’s the fourth one?” Snape asked.

Harry was scanning around for Pettigrew and didn’t see him anywhere. He then saw a glint of
reflected light from the setting sun. The light was coming from a neighbouring tree. As he squinted
he saw that it was from the silvery paw of a rat perched on a large branch. Wormtail was standing
on his hind legs and sniffing the air.

Harry felt an ice cold rage wash over him. He wanted to take out that rat once and for all.

“I see the fourth man. He transformed into a rat. I’ll take care of him,” Harry whispered.

“Do you have a plan?” Snape asked.

“Yeah, I know exactly what I want to do.”

Harry landed his broomstick silently near the base of the tree. He quickly transformed into his
Animagus form and crawled up the trunk. He climbed up higher in the tree than where Wormtail was
stationed. Harry dropped down from a higher branch and slowly advanced behind his prey and hissed
an incantation. The rat turned around just in time to see the enormous jaws of the snake become
unhinged and devour him whole. The lump was slowly migrating its way down the throat of the snake.
Harry was actively willing it to move further down his body until it was in his stomach. He didn’t
want to transform back into his human form and have a rat lodged in his esophagus.

After fully swallowing the rat into his stomach, Harry crawled down the trunk of the tree and
snuck behind a tree in direct line with Bode. He transformed back into his human form and he was
thankful that he didn’t experience any pain except for a strange sensation in his stomach.

Snape had been flying unseen overhead and roared, “Stupefy!”

Croaker keeled over hitting the floor of the forest with a loud thud. Macnair and Bode started
hurling hexes in the direction of where they heard Snape’s voice.

Harry looked at the floor of the forest and saw that it was covered in pine needles. He waved
his wand and transformed the pine needles into sewing needles and then did a banishing charm to
send them flying into Bode’s face and eyes. Bode gave a bloodcurdling scream as the needles pierced
his eyes and blood cascaded down his face. Harry waved his wand again to return the objects to
their original form. This caused the man to scream further as dirt and mold stung the open wounds.
Bode fell to his knees with his hands desperately clawing at his eyes.

Harry turned as he heard the sound of heavy wings beating. He flattened himself against the tree
and saw Buckbeak flying towards the clearing. Macnair stood there frozen with fear. As Buckbeak hit
the ground it pounded its powerful back legs and charged Macnair. A high-pitched screech cut
through the air and sent chills up and down Harry’s spine. Macnair raised his wand against Buckbeak
just as the hippogriff descended upon him. Another human scream was heard as Harry heard the
sickening sound of bones crushing. Buckbeak then turned around and drew its back leg up to deliver
a deathblow to the skull of the fallen man.

“STOP!” yelled Harry.

The hippogriff held its leg in the air and blinked one orange eye at him.

“Don’t kill him, please Buckbeak,” Harry pleaded.

His pleas were listened to as the majestic creature slowly lowered its leg and walked away from
the bloodied man lying on the floor of the forest. Snape had taken off the Invisibility Cloak and
had disarmed all three of the men and retrieved Sirius’s wand. He conjured ropes around Bode and
Croaker and handcuffs for Macnair. Stretchers were conjured next to carry all the prisoners back to
the castle.

Harry went over to the cage, used an unlocking charm to open it and untied his godfather. Sirius
was breathing heavily. Buckbeak then came over to Sirius’s side to be petted.

“Thanks pal,” he said as he stroked its feathers.

Sirius turned to his godson, “What happened with Pettigrew?”

“I took care of him,” Harry said ominously. “He won’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

“Thank you Harry,” Sirius then swallowed hard, “And thank you Severus.”

Snape nodded curtly, “We need to get them back to Hogwarts. Especially Macnair. Pomfrey’s going
to have to look at him immediately. And Bode might never see again.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Harry stated. “I just incapacitated him, like I said I would.”

“That’s an understatement,” Snape replied. “But what about Pettigrew?”

“You can’t kill someone that’s already been declared dead,” Harry said flatly.

“Come on Black, here’s your wand,” Snape said throwing it to him. “Help me take them back.”

The threesome levitated the prisoners through the darkened forest until they finally arrived
back at Hogwarts. Buckbeak cantered alongside of them leading the way. Harry was expecting when
they arrived that they would simply take Macnair and Bode to the hospital wing while Croaker would
go to Dumbledore’s office. He thought that Dumbledore would be the one to decide what next to do.
He did not expect to see the school grounds swarming with officials from the Ministry of Magic.

“There they are,” Fudge announced with his eyes glittering malevolently. “Arrest them.”

Officers from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad stepped forward and placed handcuffs on Harry,
Snape and Sirius.

**

End notes: In case anyone wondered, this chapter was based largely on my own childbirth
experience. Ama wanted me to make Arabella’s delivery easier by using magic to help ease the baby
out. Nope, that was not something I wanted to do. If I could go through a twelve-hour labour with
no drugs, then so could Arabella. Childbirth is such a magical experience to begin with that to add
spells or enchantments would seem to gild the lily. I did make her delivery easier than mine was,
so I spared some of the gory details. Be thankful for that. Be very thankful. And as strange as it
may seem, my husband and I were so enthralled with looking at this new little face that we didn’t
check between the legs for about ten minutes to see the sex until someone asked.

So for all of my male readers out there in case you weren’t sure about this fact, it ain’t easy
being pregnant or givin’ birth. Please don’t impregnate any woman unless you actively want a small
child running up to you some day saying, “Daddddy!” And above all: Revere Your Mother.

I also wanted to say a few words about Soraya Mire. She is by far the bravest and most beautiful
woman I have ever met. I am fortunate enough to be able to call her my friend. When I was trying to
think of the perfect name for Sirius and Arabella’s daughter I remembered the meaning of Soraya’s
name. After that, I knew that I had found the name I had been searching for. Not only would I name
the child after an incredible woman, but it would also reflect the astronomical theme that is
inherent in Sirius’s name. I also feel pretty confident in thinking that no other fanfic writer has
ever used the name Soraya for any character. If you ever get the chance to see Soraya Mire’s
critically acclaimed documentary film, “Fire Eyes,” do so. *It is* *powerful*.

And now, I’d like to thank those readers who posted reviews on my boards. I appreciate your kind
words. Thank you to: Brandie, darkstar, Dream, HerioneGranger 4 ever, kinicky21, MostEvilKitten,
NAPPA, NIGHTSTALKER, Thelvyn, and vagrantshadow. And yes, NIGHTSTALKER, you did call it correctly
on the pregnancy part of the story, but you guessed wrong about which sex the baby was going to be!
Of course it was a 50-50 shot. And as for the relationship between Harry and Soraya, I think you’d
just have to say that it was his godfather’s daughter. Not like second cousins once or twice
removed or any such thing. (I have no idea how that stuff is supposed to work either.)

Stay tuned: Only three more chapters to go!



15. Trial, Tribulation and Betrayal
-----------------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Author’s note: I’d like to thank the following people for beta reading this chapter for me: Ama,
Maria 1314, Lanski author of “A New Ghost” on The Dark Arts, and Cara Hicks. I was fortunate to
have a beta such as Cara who not only gave fabulous suggestions throughout the writing of this
story, wonderful wordsmithing skills, but also had an undergraduate degree in law. Thank you,
Cara!

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Fifteen – Trial, Tribulation and Betrayal

Harry stood shell shocked as handcuffs were put on his wrists. Sirius and Snape had a look of
controlled rage as they had been shackled. They were ushered into the castle and taken to the
nearest classroom. Harry looked around the room and realized that they must be in the Ancient Runes
classroom as there were all kinds of strange symbols he didn’t recognize decorating the walls. A
swarm of officers from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad were entering and exiting the room. He
wanted desperately to speak with Dumbledore, but knew instinctively that doing so might implicate
the headmaster. He couldn’t risk that.

Harry’s heart stopped when Percy Weasley entered the room followed by Minister Cornelius Fudge.
He tried to make eye contact with Percy, but it seemed that he was consciously avoiding Harry’s
gaze.

The officers began searching the prisoners. Harry’s wand and his pocket-knife were immediately
confiscated. The burly officer that was searching him showed great interest in his necklace.

“Minister Fudge, Potter has a necklace around his neck just like Black has,” he announced.

“Check the other prisoner,” ordered Fudge.

They began searching Snape and immediately seized his amulet and wand.

“Here’s another one, Minister.”

“Good work, Gaffney,” responded Fudge as he began to prowl the room looking at the three
prisoners. “Matching necklaces…hmm, not something you’d expect from three *males*. Unless
these necklaces have some magical properties.”

Fudge held an amulet up for closer inspection. He turned it over in his hand and looked at it
from all angles.

“Tell me Black, what do these necklaces do?” he asked.

Sirius gave him a cold hard stare that was palpable with its intense hatred. Fudge began walking
around Sirius looking at him up and down. He held up the wanted photos of Sirius from both his
pre-Azkaban youthful days and his famous incarcerated picture and compared them to the man standing
before him.

“This is a very good disguise you are sporting Black. If we hadn’t been tipped off – I don’t
know that I would have recognized you. I daresay that you could have walked down Diagon Alley and
not gotten a second glance, that is except for the ladies of course…*ladies*…,” Fudge smirked,
“You always were a ladies’ man. You and Arabella Figg used to work closely together. Hmm, and today
she gave birth to a *black haired child*.”

Fudge snapped his fingers to Percy, “Send investigators to the gamekeeper’s hut. See if anyone
there is wearing a necklace like this. If they are, have them arrested immediately and brought
here. I also want to know who fathered that bastard child of hers. If it is Black’s as I suspect,
then I want her brought to me. I need to know if he was present at the birth, if he was then
everyone else that was there at the time is a material witness and we will need statements from
them.”

“Is there anything else?” Percy asked.

“Yes, we will also need to have investigators search the necks of everyone here. Search
everyone, all the students, faculty and staff. Start at the top with the headmaster himself,” Fudge
said with a twisted smile.

Percy nodded and then his eyes met Harry’s. Once their eyes finally connected, Harry wished that
they hadn’t. Percy seemed to be looking through him, as if he were beneath his dignity to
acknowledge. It was now clear to Harry that Percy had made his choice. He sided with Fudge over his
own family. He could only wonder if Percy had joined with Voldemort or if he was merely an
unwitting pawn. Percy turned on his heel and left the room to follow through on Fudge’s orders.

Fudge walked over to Snape and gave him the visual once over. He started making a clucking
sound. “Snape, Snape, Snape. I *am* surprised to see you in league with Black. Why just two
years ago you apprehended him and turned him over to me. If he hadn’t somehow escaped that night, I
would have put in for the Order of Merlin for you. Ah, but tonight your actions have instead earned
you a lifetime in Azkaban. This is a sad turn of events, but not completely unexpected I’m afraid
to say. I began wondering about you last year when you showed me your Dark Mark.”

Fudge leaned in even closer, his face menacingly close to Snape’s, “Tell me, what made you align
yourself with Black?”

Snape’s upper lip curled, exposing his yellowed teeth. He looked as if he was about to say
something entirely unpleasant.

Harry had been thinking about all the American police shows he had watched on television while
he was growing up. Or *heard* rather, while he was in his cupboard and the Dursleys stayed up
late at night watching them. He had heard the saying so many times he had it memorized.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Harry said out loud.

Fudge smirked at him.

“If you give up that right, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law,” Harry
continued. “You have the right to an attorney…”

Fudge erupted in laughter, “Court of law?” he sneered. “Attorney? That’s a good one, Potter! You
and Snape attacked three Ministry officials and were found in the presence of a fugitive from
justice. You’ll all be sent to Azkaban. There will be no need to waste anyone’s time with a
trial.”

Harry gulped. He had never thought about that possibility. Sirius had a hardened look in his
eye, while Snape looked positively murderous towards Fudge. Harry’s knees started shaking violently
making it difficult for him to stand.

Percy returned to the room and was followed by an elderly wizard with a no nonsense air about
him. He wore a black cloak with a white dress shirt underneath and a large loopy black string tie.
He was bald and had a finely trimmed white beard that covered the edges of his chin, but was shaven
on his face. His eyes were stern and humorless behind gold-rimmed spectacles.

Fudge turned and greeted the new arrival, “Mathews, it’s about time you got here. We have
finally arrested Sirius Black. He had been seen on the school grounds and was apprehended by Bode,
Croaker and Macnair as he tried to leave through Hogsmeade. They were in the process of bringing
him back to Azkaban when they were viciously attacked by Professor Severus Snape and Harry Potter.
And Cotton,” Fudge chuckled as he handed him the necklaces, “they were all wearing these
amulets.”

Cotton Mathews looked carefully at the necklaces and then cast piercing glances at the
prisoners.

“We need to separate them and put them into holding cells until the investigation here is
complete. Later we can transport them. Where would be a good place to hold them?” Mathews
asked.

“Percy, you were Head Boy here,” Fudge said. “Perhaps you might know of some suitable rooms here
in the castle.”

Percy considered the request for a moment and then answered, “The house-elf quarters should
work. They’re small, Spartan, but they should work. We can post guards outside the rooms and
another bonus is that they are underground so we don’t have to worry about anyone escaping out
windows.”

“Sounds good. Percy can you see to it that they are moved there immediately?” Mathews asked.
“The Minister needs to inform me about everything that has come to light in this
investigation.”

“What about the house-elves?” Harry asked. “Where are they supposed to sleep?”

“Who cares?” Fudge snorted. “They can either double up or sleep on the floor. They’re only elves
after all.”

Percy announced that he would lead the way to the house-elf quarters. Three officers came over
to usher the prisoners to their new holding area. Harry was repeatedly pushed and elbowed as he was
walking down the stairs past the kitchen. Several times he almost fell down the steps but somehow
maintained his balance. As they started walking down a corridor, Dobby appeared and stood in the
middle of the hallway.

“What brings you to the house-elf quarters?” he asked.

Percy looked down on the house-elf as if there was really no need to respond to such an
underling. “We are in need of rooms to temporarily house prisoners. We need three rooms vacated
immediately.”

“Certainly,” the house-elf said as he gave a bow. “Harry Potter can use Dobby’s room. Dobby will
make two more rooms available. Come this way.”

Harry gave the house-elf a look and mouthed the words, “I’m hungry.” Dobby nodded and then led
them to his room. Harry was shoved inside and the door was slammed shut after him. He was now alone
with his thoughts. As he looked around the small room he realized that he had been in water closets
that were larger. There was a small bed that if Harry curled up in a fetal position might hold him.
The room also contained a small table, a chair and a small chest that must have held all of Dobby’s
socks and assorted clothes. A red beret was resting on top of the chest.

“At least that looks better than that silly tea cozy,” Harry muttered to himself.

He had just sat down on the bed and tried to gather his thoughts when he heard voices coming
down the hallway, followed by the wail of a newborn baby. Professor Figg was being placed in a room
across the hall from Harry.

“Arabella, it’s been a long time,” came Fudge’s voice with a false note of friendship. “And yet,
I’m not surprised to see you ensnared in all of this. You always seemed to have your own ideas
about things.”

“Cornelius, I don’t think you want us revisiting ancient history – especially when that history
includes you actively trying to sabotage my advancement within the Ministry,” Professor Figg
replied coldly. “Actually you did me a favour, because leaving the Ministry was the best thing I
ever did for my own sanity’s sake. *I* have never compromised my ethics or values.”

Fudge laughed, “Yes, your *values* have earned yourself a cell in Azkaban a few doors down
from your poor choice of lovers.”

“Wait until the trial, we’ll see what a judge and jury has to say about that,” she said
defiantly.

Fudge chuckled.

“You don’t plan on holding a trial?” she said shocked. “You think you can just throw me in
prison without a trial? That would be political suicide Cornelius. Imagine the headline – Cruel
Fudge imprisons new mother and baby without a trial.”

“I wouldn’t send a baby into a prison.”

“Cruel Fudge snatches newborn baby away from her mother! You know that it wouldn’t matter how
you tried to spin it, *The Daily Prophet* would run with that angle. They print whatever is
the most scandalous and salacious copy they can dream up because that is what sells the most
papers. To hell with the truth. And you know that the witches would all be after your hide. They
know that a newborn needs its mother’s milk. Babies need colostrum to give their immune system
needed antibodies to fight off infection. Not even a wet nurse can provide a newborn what only
their mother can. Once those headlines hit the papers, you’d be lucky to still be in your office by
sundown. Hell, you’d be lucky to remain in one piece.”

There was a notable silence.

“Minister Fudge,” Percy’s familiar voice called out, “they found an amulet on Dumbledore, sir.
They’re bringing him now.”

“Good,” Fudge said coldly.

“Cornelius you cannot possibly think you can simply incarcerate Albus Dumbledore without a
trial,” stated Professor Figg flatly. “It was one thing for you to help Crouch railroad a
twenty-one year old wizard into Azkaban that had very damning circumstances surrounding his alleged
crime. It’ll be a totally different ballgame to try and short circuit the justice system with
someone of Dumbledore’s stature. That would definitely be your last act as Minister of Magic. No,
you need to at least put on a show or you will be collecting your pension starting tomorrow
night.”

“She’s right Cornelius,” came Dumbledore’s voice. “You will need to have a trial for all of us.
At least put up the appearance of a trial before you can throw us on that deserted rock.”

“Cotton, have the investigators turned up any other accomplices?” Fudge asked.

“Not yet,” came the reply. “They have been searching all the students’ trunks and haven’t found
anything. Well, except for these incriminating letters we found in Potter’s trunk.”

“Very good,” said Fudge with an evil voice. “Cotton we will have to hold a trial for these
criminals after all. It shall be held tomorrow at noon.”

“*Noon**?* Are you crazy? I can’t possibly be ready to lead the inquisition by that
time!” came Mathews’ irate voice.

“We need to do this quickly,” said Fudge coolly. “I don’t want a groundswell of support to grow
for Dumbledore. We need to bring forth the overwhelming evidence as soon as possible, before people
start reminiscing about their halcyon days here and want to get him off for sentimental reasons.
Same with any sympathy for a new mother.”

Then Fudge started chuckling, “I doubt there is much goodwill left for Potter after this last
year’s headlines. And there will be no reservoir of support for a former Death Eater and for Sirius
Black. Mathews, if noon is too soon, then we shall hold it at three o’clock in the afternoon. You
shall send officers to the school owlery to send off all the necessary notices to the sitting
jurors and other necessary officials. The Ministry’s minibus should be here within the hour to
transport the prisoners and material witnesses. You can stay here and continue the investigation if
you so desire.”

Mathews muttered something under his breath that was inaudible.

“Minister, investigators found Frank and Claire Longbottom in a private room off of the hospital
wing. Wasn’t there a missing person’s report filed recently on Lucretia Longbottom?” Percy
asked.

“Yes there was,” Fudge responded. “Dumbledore, why are the Longbottoms here?”

“They were not getting appropriate medical attention at St. Mungo’s and it was thought that
Madam Pomfrey’s care might bring about some long overdue improvement. I must say that their health
has improved dramatically since they’ve arrived here.”

“And what about Lucretia Longbottom? Have you seen her?” Fudge asked.

“I haven’t seen her face since the day Frank and Claire arrived here,” Dumbledore replied.

Footsteps were soon heard walking down the hallway. Apparently Fudge and Mathews had tired of
asking questions. Harry curled up on the bed. He stared at the ceiling. There was going to be a
trial after all. That left a glimmer of hope, but he didn’t have any idea as to how they were going
to escape conviction. Then he thought of Hermione, if only he could get a message to her.

“I have Harry Potter’s dinner,” came Dobby’s voice outside the door.

“I wasn’t given any notice about allowing our prisoners to eat,” replied the guard.

“He’s still a student here and he missed his dinner. Harry Potter is very hungry. He said so
himself. Does the Ministry want to starve their prisoners?” asked the house-elf.

After a few silent moments, Harry heard the door being opened. The guard came over and
instructed Harry to lie on his stomach. Then the handcuffs came off and the guard gave Dobby an
impatient glare. The house-elf was setting the small table for a meal and was laboriously placing
the silverware in its proper placement. The guard left the room while the elf was still fussing
over the place settings and food.

“Here is Harry Potter’s dinner,” the house-elf said.

“Thank you Dobby,” Harry said.

“Do you want us to break you out?” Dobby whispered.

Harry was surprised to see a look of fierceness in those tennis ball sized eyes. Dobby was ready
to lead a battle and was willing to die for him.

“No, I don’t want to live my life as a fugitive,” Harry whispered back. “What I need is for you
to get a message to Hermione.”

The house-elf’s face split into a large grin as he removed a scrap of parchment out of a pocket.
He handed it to Harry. There was only a single line written in her familiar handwriting.

*How can I help?*

Dobby then handed Harry a small pencil. He looked at that small writing implement and thought it
looked like it was made of pure gold. He grabbed that grubby little pencil and scribbled back, “Be
my barrister. We are being tried tomorrow afternoon. You’ll be taken there as a witness. Do
whatever you have to in order to defend us. Shame them if you have to. Otherwise we’ll go to
Azkaban. For life.”

Harry looked at the note and remembered something else. He scribbled another line.

“Take this back to Hermione,” he said in a hushed tone. “Tell her that she must figure out a way
to defend us otherwise we are all doomed. Also tell her that she needs to write a letter to her
folks to get the item that I wrote down. It’s something that I need for the trial that I won’t be
able to get otherwise. You’ll have to go to the owlery and send off the letter. Maybe send another
letter to Mr. Weasley asking him to pick up the stuff from her parents, because I don’t think she’d
be allowed to get owl post when she’s at the Ministry. I also doubt her parents would know how else
to get it to her. Can you do all that?”

“Yes, Dobby understands and will make sure it is done,” the house-elf bowed before he left the
room with a Crack!

Harry sat down to eat the food that had been brought to him. The last thing he had eaten had
been a sandwich over ten hours earlier. The fear of what was going to happen to him and the other
prisoners caused his stomach to be tied in knots. As he smelled the warm roast beef, his stomach
started to settle and he dug in as if he were a condemned man and this was his last meal.

An hour later the guard entered Harry’s room and placed the handcuffs back on him. The five
prisoners were being led outside to be placed in a minibus from the Ministry. Hermione and Rebecca
Nurse were standing and waiting behind Hagrid to enter the vehicle. Hagrid was having a hard time
getting through the door. As the wizards were working to expand the doorway to allow the half-giant
to enter, Hermione carefully moved beside Harry. She was clutching a single leather bound book
under her arm.

“The messages were sent,” she said in an undertone, “but why?”

“We need to bring up Scabbers in the testimony or we’re all doomed.”

She gave him a worried look, “I have no idea as to how I’m supposed to do this.”

“I know you can do it. I have faith in you. I’ll give you a signal, I’ll sneeze three times,”
Harry said.

A guard stepped forward and directed Hermione through the doorway. She gave a frantic look back
at Harry as if he had gone plumb off his bob.

Later as Harry was wedged in a seat between Sirius and Snape, he tried to think positively. He
knew that he now had reason to hope that things might turn out all right. He could no longer depend
on Albus Dumbledore to protect him. Instead he and the other four defendants would be placing all
their lives in the hands of a fifteen-year old Muggle-born witch named Hermione Granger. She might
be the only one who could save them.

The minibus trundled along for hours. The only sound came from the rattling and wheezing of the
engine and from Soraya’s cries when she needed something. The guards were none too pleased when
they had to either release Professor Figg from her handcuffs for feedings or to change the newborn.
They refused to do the diaper duty themselves. Harry tried to get some rest, but found himself
being jerked awake just as he was falling asleep. Then when he had finally drifted into a deep
sleep he was awakened by the incredibly loud snores coming from Hagrid. Thankfully, Hermione was
sitting next to gamekeeper and gently roused him to stop the noises that were threatening to wake
the dead.

Hours later when the sun’s rays were hitting Harry squarely in the eyes and preventing him from
sleeping any further, he looked at Sirius. The crow’s feet around his eyes started to soften and
then disappeared altogether. His hair was also losing its grey highlights and turned to jet-black.
Sirius started blinking very hard and shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” asked Harry.

“It’s my contacts,” Sirius replied. “Their prescription is for my eyes being twenty years older.
Now everything is blurry. If I don’t take these out, I’m going to get a splitting headache.”

“Maybe they’ll take our handcuffs off when they put us in holding cells,” suggested Harry.

“I hope so.”

Shortly afterwards the vehicle came to a stop before the Leaky Cauldron. They were now being
ushered out of the vehicle into the Wizarding pub and then into Diagon Alley. Minister Fudge looked
smug as he led the way and tipped his hat to the astonished witches and wizards who had come for a
bit of early morning shopping.

Voices in shocked amazement could be heard all up and down the Wizarding district.

“Is that Albus Dumbledore under arrest?”

“And is that…Sirius Black? What are Dumbledore and Black doing together?”

“I think that’s Harry Potter, too. I wonder what happened?”

As they walked through Diagon Alley more and more spectators seemed to follow behind them. It
was as if Fudge had become the Pied Piper of Hamelin. They walked past Gringotts, turned the corner
and came to a building complex that Harry had never seen before. It was massive in structure and it
was clearly the Ministry of Magic as a large statue of Merlin stood in front. Doric columns
surrounded the building and gave it a majestic look as well as the carved sculptures in the
friezes. One particular frieze was chilling in that it depicted several witches and wizards being
burned at the stake.

A crowd had gathered at the foot of the steps and Minister Fudge turned to address them.

“Today will go down in Wizarding history as a solemn day,” he called out with a loud and clear
voice. “We have finally captured the most infamous fugitive who has eluded Wizarding justice for
three years. We have Sirius Black in custody as well as four of his accomplices. One is the famous
Harry Potter, two are professors at Hogwarts and the other is none other than Hogwarts’ Headmaster
Albus Dumbledore.”

Gasps were heard from the assembled crowd.

“Yes, yes, I know that is hard to believe, but it is true. Because of the serious nature of
their crimes, we do not want any delays in their judgment lest they somehow devise a plan to escape
once again and continue to terrorize the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. So, for those who wish to
witness the Trial of the Century – then come to our courtroom at three o’clock this afternoon.”

Heads were nodding and voices were heard discussing how they could rearrange their day in order
to attend.

Harry looked over at Hermione. She had a look of fear in her eyes that he had never seen before.
She looked over at him and then mouthed, “I’ll try.” He sighed at that. Somehow, she’d be his
barrister. She had to. She was his only hope.

They were then led through an ornate lobby with gleaming white marble floors and then down a
back staircase to a dank basement. Harry could sense that in centuries past it was very likely that
prisoners here were treated to similar tortures as they had been in the Muggle prisons. It was as
if he could hear screams still reverberating on the walls. He was tossed into a cell with stone
walls and a large wooden door that had only a small window in it. The cell was cold, dark and damp.
It had only a small filthy cot and a grimy toilet and sink. The room was lit by a single feeble
lamp. His handcuffs were removed and he was once again left to his own thoughts. He looked at his
watch and saw that it was now 8:30 in the morning. He had six and a half hours before the trial
would begin.

*

A few minutes before three o’clock the prisoners were taken out of their cells. This time they
were handcuffed with their hands in front of them, rather than behind their backs. Their feet were
also manacled, which made their movement very difficult. Professor Figg was the only prisoner who
did not have manacles put on her legs, for she was still carrying Soraya. The guards at least
realized that she would risk dropping the infant if her legs were in restraints.

Harry had never felt such a strong case of nerves. He had tried to nibble on the dry and
tasteless food that was brought to him at lunch, but was unable to eat more than a few bites. He
now was being prodded forward down the corridor with his godfather shuffling his feet in front of
him.

They entered the courtroom that Harry had seen in Dumbledore’s Pensieve. The room was filled
with witches and wizards. He swallowed hard as he was led to a chair in the front of the room.

Cotton Mathews entered and surveyed the room. He looked very tired as if he had been up all
night working on this case, but he still managed to radiate a confident manner about him. Mathews
was dressed in a long black robe and had a powdered wig that covered his bald pate. He placed his
briefcase down on a table and immediately started taking out sheets of parchment and the
confiscated necklaces.

“All Rise!” came the booming voice from a bailiff. “His Honor, Judge Amos Diggory will preside
over the matter before the court.”

Everyone in the room stood and Harry found himself struggling with his manacles and handcuffs to
stand without losing his balance.

Amos Diggory came into the room wearing long red robes and a powdered wig. He walked over to a
tall desk at the front of the room. He looked deadly serious and gave Harry a penetrating glare as
he sat down. Diggory then announced that the audience should be seated.

“Mr. Mathews, would you kindly tell the court why we have assembled here today?” Diggory
asked.

Matthews stood and immediately took control of the room with his resonant voice. “Yes, your
lordship. Today is a grave day for the Wizarding World. I take no pleasure in presenting the case
against the venerable Albus Dumbledore. However, as it will be shown – he is not deserving of the
widespread respect and admiration that so many in the Wizarding World have accorded him. Instead he
has conspired with the notorious mass murderer and escaped prisoner Sirius Black.”

As he pointed directly at Sirius, the audience responded with audible gasps. Others were
straining to get a better view of the infamous prisoner.

“This conspiracy led to the overthrow of Azkaban and there was a plan to control our community
worse than the darkest days under He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It will be shown that Sirius Black
betrayed his late friends James and Lily Potter in a scheme that caused the downfall of
You-Know-Who. It was because Black wasn’t satisfied with being second in command and wanted to
become Evil Overlord himself.”

Harry started to feel his anger building within him, but he tried to calm himself and remind
himself to breathe. He knew the accusations were going to get worse.

“Two years ago, Sirius Black laid a trap for Harry Potter, so that he could meet the young
wizard. We all thought it was because he wanted to murder the young boy and finish the job that his
former master had been unable to. Instead it will be shown that Black wanted to recruit the young
Dark Wizard. For Black and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knew that Harry Potter’s destiny was to become
a very powerful Dark Wizard. You-Know-Who feared the competition, but Black sought to harness
Potter’s abilities for his own evil purposes.”

Matthews then moved and gestured dramatically in front of Harry.

“Harry Potter. A child who at the tender age of twelve was revealed as being a Parselmouth. One
of the most feared and suspected talents of Dark Wizards – the ability to converse with snakes.
This ‘gift’ was further demonstrated at the funeral of Charles Weasley. Under very suspicious
circumstances, the flowers on the casket were transfigured into snakes. Potter then spoke to them
in Parseltongue. He freely admits that he performed a transfiguration spell to revert the snakes
back to their original form. Even though this specific transformation was never taught at Hogwarts,
he somehow was able to perform it instantly. This incident of performing magic outside of school
has led to expulsion hearings by the Board of Governors. But this is only one of a number of
suspicious things that have happened around Mr. Potter. At the end of his first year of school, his
Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor Professor Quirrell was killed after an altercation with
Potter. This happened in a hidden basement chamber of Hogwarts. The only witness to the destroyed
body was Albus Dumbledore.

“Potter’s second year was notorious because four of his fellow students were attacked and
petrified. Reportedly Potter and his friend Ronald Weasley found the legendary Chamber of Secrets
created and sealed by Salazar Slytherin. A chamber that had never been found for hundreds of years
and after countless searches by expert teams of wizards and witches. According to Potter’s story,
he and Ronald Weasley went into the chamber to save Virginia Weasley. Mr. Potter claims to have
slain a thousand year old basilisk. The only adult witness to this fantastic tale was Professor
Gilderoy Lockhart. A man whose fame for vanquishing dark creatures was well known. And yet
ominously, Lockhart still suffers from a damaged memory from that night and cannot corroborate any
of Potter’s tale.

“And last year Mr. Potter entered into the Triwizard Tournament even though there was a strict
age limit for entry. All contestants were to have achieved seventeen years of age, but somehow
Potter entered his name for the contest even though he was only fourteen. Only Dark Magic could
have fooled the Goblet of Fire.”

Mathews then paused and looked venomously at Harry.

“At the end of the tournament, he emerged victorious after an unexplained disappearance of about
half an hour. Two of his competitors were found stunned and unconscious, while another contestant,
Cedric Diggory, was found dead. Harry Potter was found clutching the dead body while he claimed the
Triwizard Cup for himself.”

Mathews then waved his dramatically arms at the jury and the audience.

“It gives me pause to wonder why anyone celebrated the idea that a small child barely old enough
to walk could defeat such a powerful wizard such as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Rather than
celebrating the fall of You-Know-Who, we should have been trembling at the future potential of such
a powerful infant. Something that Sirius Black evidently understood. I will show that there has
been a correspondence between Potter and Black that has spanned two years. I will also show that
Black’s network of supporters included Professors Severus Snape, Arabella Figg and Headmaster Albus
Dumbledore. They all helped to aid, abet and harbour a fugitive. It will also be shown that the
baby being held in Professor Figg’s arms is the child of Sirius Black!”

More gasps came from the assembled crowd.

“Black was apprehended by Ministry of Magic officials who were acting on a tip, shortly after
the birth of his child. These Ministry officials, Macnair, Bode and Croaker were in the process of
transporting Black back to Azkaban when Harry Potter and Severus Snape viciously attacked them,
leaving Agent Bode permanently blind and Agent Macnair permanently disabled. Potter and Snape were
plotting to further their nefarious plans by taking these Ministry officials hostage in order to
interrogate and control them. Unfortunately for them, more Ministry officials were waiting for them
at Hogwarts castle. The plot soon unraveled. One particularly incriminating piece of evidence was
the finding of matching magical amulets around each of these defendants’ necks.”

He then strode to his desk where he grabbed the five amulets and held them aloft. Murmurs were
heard from the crowd.

“Another bit of incriminating evidence is that at the beginning of the school year, Professor
Figg made every student from the fourth year on up submit essays detailing who was important in
their life, how they could be tempted by power and any personal family history that could be
vulnerable to blackmail. These essays have since been given to Headmaster Dumbledore, but have been
bewitched so that only he and possibly Sirius Black can read them. What better way for future
recruitment of supporters than having a blueprint for someone’s vulnerability written in their own
hand?

“I will now start my case by calling the material witnesses to the stand. They will establish
that Sirius Black was indeed at Hogwarts yesterday. My first witness is Rebecca Nurse.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. She nodded and stood up facing Amos Diggory. She had
obviously put some thought into being a barrister because she had tried her best to dress the part.
She had worn a long black skirt, a white button down blouse and a black dress cloak rather than the
traditional Hogwarts school uniform.

“Excuse me, your lordship,” she began with a trembling voice. “My name is Hermione Granger, I’m
a student at Hogwarts. I’d like to have a moment of your time to make a motion. I submit that these
defendants deserve to have a barrister mount a defence on their behalf.”

Amos Diggory sniffed dismissively, “We don’t use such Muggle concepts.”

“Well your lord,” she continued with her voice getting stronger. “I think that the Pursuit of
Truth and Justice is a concept that is universal and should be revered in both Wizarding and Muggle
courts. The cross-examination of witnesses is of vital importance. Otherwise, there is an
incomplete and one-sided examination of evidence. And given the stature of Headmaster Albus
Dumbledore and the history of Harry Potter’s survival against Lord Voldemort…”

There were gasps from the audience in response to hearing that name uttered.

“…and also given the severity of the charges against them,” she continued. “We should have
complete confidence that there are no mitigating factors or extenuating circumstances that might
later come to light that could prove embarrassing for all involved.”

“Miss Granger, I must ask you to be seated,” Diggory said in a patronizing tone. “We do not
allow for barristers in this court.”

She remained standing and instead crossed in front of the jury box and devoted her attention to
them.

“Your lord, ladies and gentleman of the jury and esteemed witnesses -- I must appeal to your
sense of Justice. What harm would be done if I were allowed to ask follow-up questions of the
defendants and witnesses? I am after all, only a fifteen year-old witch with no formal legal
training and am certainly no match against an experienced Inquisitor such as Mr. Cotton Mathews. I
simply wish to uphold and defend the honour of my headmaster, two professors, my best friend and a
man I believe was unjustly imprisoned. If they are found guilty of the crimes they are accused of –
then there will be less doubt about the certainty of the verdicts.”

She then turned back to Diggory. “I respectfully request to be their barrister.”

The room erupted with murmurs from the crowd.

“What harm indeed?”

“If anyone deserves a defence it’s Dumbledore…”

“Let the girl try…”

Diggory surveyed the room and began to show a little nervousness. “Miss Granger, this is highly
unusual,” Diggory said coolly.

“I understand that your lord, but putting someone like Headmaster Dumbledore on trial is also
highly unusual. If this were a Muggle court, the defendants would not only be afforded a barrister,
but they’d also be given adequate time to mount a legal defence. I won’t ask for a postponement of
these proceedings, but I am asking for the ability to mount a defence armed only with my wits, my
sense of justice and…” she picked up her black leather book, “a simple Muggle legal
dictionary.”

There were more murmurs from the crowd.

“I’d like to see this…”

“After all Dumbledore’s done over the years…”

“He deserves a defence...”

Diggory exchanged a look with Fudge who was shaking his head ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, Miss
Granger. I simply cannot allow that change in our court system,” he stated firmly.

Hermione then turned once again to the assembled crowd.

“I believe that Albus Dumbledore has probably been the Headmaster or instructor for everyone in
this room. If his life history of dedication to the instruction of countless generations means
*nothing*, if his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindlewald is simply dismissed as well as his
discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood is deemed unimportant – if Albus Dumbledore is
undeserving of a defence – then that means that the Wizarding World is *indifferent* to
Justice. It means that the concept of being presumed innocent until proven guilty Doesn’t Apply
Here. It means that you are presumed guilty and actively prevented in asserting your innocence. If
that is what the foundations of the justice system of the Wizarding World are based upon – then I
shall reject it in the only way that I can.”

Her voice started trembling with emotion and her hands were visibly shaking with anger. “I am a
Muggle-born witch and I simply cannot stay in a world that is predicated upon injustice and
cruelty. I shall turn my back on the magical world that I have embraced fully and enthusiastically
for the last five years. I shall turn in my wand and my spell books and try to forget everything
that I have learned at Hogwarts. I tried so hard to excel and to prove myself worthy in this
magical world, but I shall deny my God given talent and return to Muggle obscurity where at least
the system of governance has the *appearance* of fairness.”

She then turned back to Diggory with tears streaming down her face. “I once again humbly request
that the court allow me to defend the honour of my headmaster and his co-defendants. Even in the
time of Merlin, the accused had people that were allowed to defend their honour in jousting. I
don’t hold any lance – only my sense of fairness.”

Harry looked about the room and saw that there were many witches and wizards who were dabbing
their eyes with handkerchiefs. Diggory looked very uncomfortable.

“Professor Dumbledore, how do you feel about this?” asked Diggory.

Dumbledore gave a warm smile towards Hermione. “I would be honoured to have someone with her
passion and intellect champion my cause.”

Diggory narrowed his eyes on Hermione. “Very well, Miss Granger. I’ll allow you to mount a
defence, but I’m warning you – if I find that you are merely trying to delay the proceedings
without adding anything of substance or if you turn this into a dramatic production – I shall end
this escapade with no warning.”

“Yes, your lord and I thank you for this opportunity,” she said she as wiped away her tears and
quickly took her seat.

Mathews then stood. “Your lordship, I must voice my objections on this matter. Miss Granger is
one of the material witnesses in this case. There is also the added question of the nature of her
relationship with Mr. Potter.”

Diggory nodded with a small smile on his face, “That does complicate matters.”

Hermione stood, “Your lordship, Mr. Mathews, ladies and gentlemen of the court. I recognize that
I am not the ideal candidate for this job, but on such short notice – I am the only one available.
I shall give truthful testimony on this matter and feel that my status as a material witness should
not disqualify myself as defence counsel. I will freely submit to Veritaserum at the end of these
proceedings should there be any need for follow-up questions. My only intent is to help us all
determine the Truth in these matters. And as for my relationship with Harry Potter, we are good
friends. Nothing more. Regardless of the insinuations in the press, we are not a couple,” she cast
a look at a wizard who seated in the front of the courtroom that was furiously writing with a
quill. He looked up at her and gave a wicked smile.

“Harry Potter has never so much as kissed me or tried to hold my hand. The day we were seen
embracing in Hogsmeade was right after I broke up with Viktor Krum. He was being a good friend and
offered his shoulder for me to cry on. And as for that famous photograph,” she gave a small smile,
“I’ve been assured that it was a normal male reaction.”

Diggory smirked, “Sit down Miss Granger. My permission for you to act as barrister stands.
Proceed, Mr. Mathews.”

Matthews stood and stifled a look of anger at Diggory. He gestured towards the midwife. “Once
again I call Rebecca Nurse to the stand.”

She crossed the room and stood in front of the witness stand. The bailiff held a magical stone
out for her to touch.

“Do you Rebecca Nurse swear in the memory of Merlin that your testimony will be truthful?”

“I do.”

“You may be seated.”

Mathews crossed to the stand.

“Did you tend to Arabella Figg’s birth?”

“Yes, I was her midwife.”

“Had she told you who the father of her child was?” asked Mathews.

“No. We never discussed anything of a personal nature. Her prenatal visits only concerned her
health and the progression of her pregnancy.”

“Where did the birth take place?”

“In Rubeus Hagrid’s hut on the grounds of Hogwarts.”

“Why there?” he asked.

“The staff quarters are far too cramped to allow women to birth properly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Women need the freedom to walk around if necessary,” she explained. “Many women need to walk
during labour. We also needed room for a birthing chair.”

“Why didn’t you use the hospital wing?”

“She wanted privacy and didn’t want any students walking in looking for some acne potion and
come across her giving birth.”

“Who was there at the birth?”

The midwife started to think, “Hagrid was there at the beginning, but he soon left and wasn’t
there at the time of the birth. Hermione Granger was there as a doula. Harry Potter was there in a
supporting role and helped lift her when she used the birthing chair. He didn’t actually tend to
her birthing needs. That was done by her partner and by Miss Granger. Her partner introduced
himself to me as Joseph O’Brien.”

“Is that man in this courtroom?” asked Mathews.

“Yes, that’s the man,” she nodded and pointed towards Sirius. “He looked different at the birth.
He had an aging potion that wore off while we were on the bus ride here, but that is the man.”

“The court will recognize that the witness has indicated Sirius Black. And what exactly was his
role?”

“He obviously was her lover and was there to help with the birth,” she said matter-of-factly.
“He helped deliver the baby and he cut the cord.”

“What did she call him?”

“Joseph.”

“Did you at any time hear him referred to as anything other than Joseph?”

“No,” she replied.

“When did he leave?”

“About an hour or so after the birth. He didn’t want to leave, but he had taken a parchment out
of his pocket that was making a strange sound like a bell. He looked at it and said that he had to
get back. He vowed that he would come visit the next day.”

“What happened after he left?” he asked.

“Well, shortly afterwards Harry and Hermione left to go to the castle and fetch us all some
dinner. Harry came running back to the hut a few minutes later. Both Arabella and Harry held their
necklaces in their hands and closed their eyes. Arabella then wished him luck in getting Joseph
back. But she then said that Harry’s life was more important in the grand scheme of things, which I
didn’t understand at all.”

“What happened next?”

“Harry left and about an hour or so later, there were Ministry officials knocking at the
door.”

“Thank you. Your witness,” Mathews said as he nodded towards Hermione.

Hermione stood and slowly walked to the stand, “Miss Nurse, had you ever met Sirius Black
before?”

“No.”

“Had you ever heard of him before?”

“Of course. He killed thirteen people with a single curse and escaped from Azkaban. Everyone has
heard of that,” Nurse said sounding annoyed.

“Had you heard of him – *before* the fall of Voldemort?”

“Umm, I think so,” she said. “I seem to remember hearing of him when he was at Hogwarts. But I
don’t ever recall meeting him.”

“How would you describe him as he attended the birth,” asked Hermione.

“A very caring and excited father-to-be. I’d say he was one of the best partners I’ve worked
with.”

“You wouldn’t characterize him as evil would you?”

“Not from what I saw.”

“What about Harry Potter?” asked Hermione. “Would you describe his manner or actions as being
consistent with being a Dark Wizard?”

“No.”

“Thank you, that is all,” Hermione said as she returned to her chair.

“The witness may step down,” said Diggory.

Mathews stood, “I call Rubeus Hagrid to the stand.”

Hagrid was sworn in and found it very difficult to sit in the stand as he filled it
completely.

“Did Arabella Figg give birth in your hut?” asked Mathews.

“Yes.”

“How long were you present during her labour?”

“Not long. I had ter fetch the midwife and later I had me class ta teach. I wasn’ really needed
there ana’way. I think she just wanted me hut and not me hangin’ around.”

“Did you see a man there that was called Joseph O’Brien?”

“Yes. I didn’ recognize him though.”

“So you knew Sirius Black?”

“Yes,” Hagrid replied darkly and shot a nasty look in Sirius’s direction. “He took a big risk
comin’ in me hut. If I’da known it was him – I woulda tore ‘im from limb ta limb.”

“You didn’t know that Harry Potter had been corresponding with him?”

“No! I woulda told Harry all about what Black did – betrayin’ his parents and all. I never
thought that the boy would ever get mixed up with the likes of him.”

Hagrid gave Harry a penetrating look, which made him stare down at his shoes.

“Thank you, your witness,” said Mathews.

Hermione gave Hagrid a big smile as she walked towards the witness stand, “Hagrid, you knew
Sirius Black before the Potters were killed.”

“Yes,” he muttered.

“Please tell the court what your opinion was of him *at* *that* *time*.”

“I thought he was a fine bloke. He an’ James Potter were thick as thieves. He was the last
person I woulda thought would turn bad – sceptin’ Dumbledore a ‘course.”

“So you don’t think that Dumbledore has turned evil?”

“No!”

“How about Harry Potter?”

“NO!” roared Hagrid.

“When was the last time you saw Sirius Black before yesterday?”

“Right after the Potters were killed.”

“Please describe that for the court,” Hermione requested.

“Well, I had jus’ gotten to the burnin’ house and had gotten Harry out and Black stopped by. He
was all white and shakin’. He seemed very upset. I even comforted the traitor. I thought he was
upset about James an’ Lily, but all he cared about was You-Know-Who. He even tried takin’ Harry
from me. He said he was the boy’s godfather and was now ter look after him. ‘Sceptin’ I had me
orders from Dumbledore an’ I was ter take Harry ter live with his aunt and uncle. So Sirius gave me
his flyin’ motorbike ta use.”

“You’ve said that Sirius Black betrayed the Potters. What do you base this on?” she asked.

“I heard Minister Fudge say that two years ago in Hogsmeade. He had been in charge of the Black
investigation at the time. Fudge said that the Potters knew that You-Know-Who was after ‘em. So to
protect themselves they had a Fidelius Charm performed. An’ that Sirius Black was their
Secret-Keeper. Less than a week later after the spell was done, the Potters were killed!”

“Hagrid,” Hermione began slowly. “What if Minister Fudge had been given the *wrong*
information? And what if Black had not been the Potters’ Secret-Keeper after all? What if Black
tried to outwit Voldemort by switching to someone else at the last moment?”

“Objection your lord. She is leading the witness,” Mathews said angrily.

“Your lord, I haven’t had any time to prepare for this case, so I ask for a little latitude in
this line of questioning.”

“Very well,” Diggory said. “Objection overruled. Make this quick Miss Granger.”

“Yes, your lord,” she said and then turned back to the witness. “Hagrid, let’s say Black knew
that everyone would expect him to be the Potters’ Secret-Keeper, so he decided to try to outwit
Voldemort by making *someone else* Secret-Keeper. That way if Black were captured and
tortured, he was willing to die before telling anything. So instead, what if that other person –
someone you would not have suspected to be entrusted with that charge – what if *that* person
had betrayed the Potters and not Sirius Black…Would your opinion of Sirius Black change?”

Hagrid’s face became twisted with emotion. Harry then looked at Cornelius Fudge who stood up and
was visibly upset.

“I object your lord. This line of questioning has nothing to do with the charges against the
defendants,” Fudge commanded.

“Your lord, this subject was mentioned in the prosecution’s opening statement,” pleaded
Hermione. “Also it goes to establish motives. My client, Sirius Black was never tried for the
crimes he was accused of fifteen years ago. If my other clients believed that he was innocent of
those charges and had been unjustly imprisoned, then their motive in aiding and abetting a fugitive
would have a different meaning than that which was argued by Mr. Mathews.”

“What does this have to do with *this* witness?” asked Diggory.

“He knows all the defendants well your lord. I’m trying to probe how someone who knew Sirius
Black *before* the Potters’ deaths would react if they came to believe in his innocence.”

“Very well, one more question then you shall move on Miss Granger.”

She paused and looked directly at the witness. “Hagrid, knowing Headmaster Dumbledore as well as
you do, would it be in character for him to support someone in trouble that he believed was
unjustly accused of a crime?”

Harry looked at Hagrid’s face. He knew that Hermione struck gold with that question. Hagrid was
reflecting on his own unjust accusations of being behind the opening of the Chamber of Secrets and
being thrown into Azkaban. Hagrid nodded slowly.

“Yup, that’s Dumbledore all right,” he said gruffly.

“Thank you, Hagrid.”

Mathews stood. “At this time your lord, I had planned to call Miss Hermione Granger.”

Hermione turned and replied, “Your lord I will gladly stipulate certain matters to try and
expedite these proceedings. I attended the birth at Professor Figg’s request. I had seen Sirius
Black before, but did not recognize him yesterday. When I saw him before he had looked very thin
and gaunt with filthy, matted hair and dirty, ragged robes. Yesterday he appeared handsome, clean
cut, well fed and clothed, and appeared twenty years older than he does now. He also spoke with a
thick Australian accent, so I didn’t even recognize his voice. I will also stipulate that I
witnessed both Professor Figg and Harry clutching amulets on their necks. I knew nothing about
their significance and wondered why they were doing that at the same time. I also knew nothing of
Sirius Black’s and Professor Figg’s relationship. If you have other questions for me, I would
respectfully request that you wait until after the proceedings where I will willingly take the
stand and answer any question on any topic.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger. I shall reserve the right to recall you as a witness later,” said
Mathews.

Hermione then sat down. Mathews made a motion to a bailiff. “I call Ronald Weasley as my next
witness.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged worried glances. *What was he doing here*, Harry wondered.
Arthur Weasley had a look of utter astonishment on his face. Obviously no one told him that his son
was being brought forth as a witness. Hermione looked at her watch nervously as the door opened and
Ron walked into the courtroom and was taken to the witness chair and sworn in by the bailiff.

“Mr. Weasley, could you please tell the court your relationship with Harry Potter.”

“We’re best mates. I met him on the Hogwarts Express the first day at school. We were both
sorted into Gryffindor.”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley, could you tell the court whether or not Mr. Potter has had any undue
influence upon you. Whether or not he’s forced you to go along with his plans on things that you
otherwise wouldn’t have done?” Mathews asked sinisterly.

Ron nodded and looked down his face darkening.

“In our second year, Hermione and I became concerned with Harry. We were worried and when she
crossed him…he petrified her. I still don’t know how he did it or how he attacked the other
students, but Harry did it. Later when I stood up to him, he abducted my little sister Ginny and
threatened to kill her.”

Harry felt the blood rush into his face. He couldn’t understand where any of this testimony was
coming from. Arthur Weasley’s face started to darken as his eyes darted from Ron to Harry.

“Tell us what happened the night Harry threatened Ginny,” Mathews said reassuringly.

“Harry knocked her out and had hidden her in a secret passage. He said if I didn’t follow him
and do what he said, that he’d kill her. I didn’t have any choice. Then Professor Lockhart found
us. Harry stunned him and then did a memory charm on him. He then came up with the whole story of
the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny didn’t remember anything, so it was easy for her to
go along with the story. So when we left the passage, Harry once again pretended to be the
hero.”

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Tell us what happened at the end of your third year when you met Sirius Black,” Mathews
prompted.

“Well,” Ron began, “we were outside of the castle. We were afraid that Buckbeak the hippogriff
was going to be executed. When Sirius Black attacked me and dragged me off into the Forbidden
Forest. Harry and Hermione followed, trying to save me. That’s when Black told Harry that he was
destined for great things. Black said that Harry could rule the world and that he would help him.
Black came up with this alibi and said that my rat was actually Peter Pettigrew in disguise. Harry
and Black actually thought that story might work, because everyone believed Harry to be a
hero.”

“It didn’t work though did it?” asked Mathews.

“No. My rat had been eaten by Hermione’s cat weeks before. It was widely known because she and I
had a falling out about it. So no one believed the story that Pettigrew had escaped in a rat form.
But later Harry somehow helped Black escape.”

“You don’t know how he did that?”

“No. Harry stunned me one point and I was unconscious when the breakout occurred.”

Minister Fudge stroked his thin mustache with an appreciative look in his eyes.

“Has Harry been communicating with Black since that time?”

“Yes, he’s written many letters to him. Exchanged gifts, too,” Ron added.

“When Harry was in the Triwizard Tournament did he ever mention to you what lengths he would go
to in order to win?”

“Yes, he said he’d do *anything*. He wanted everyone to think he was the most powerful
wizard in generations.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Your witness,” Mr. Mathews said as he sat down.

Hermione looked at her watch again and then stood evaluating Ron closely. She licked her lips
slowly.

“Well, Ron…”

Ron stared at her blankly.

She licked her lips with great exaggeration.

“Well…” she said expectantly.

“Well what? Are you going to ask me a question or not?” Ron asked with exasperation in his
voice.

Hermione turned to Judge Diggory.

“Your lord, I object to this witness because I submit to you – this is not Ronald Weasley, but
an imposter!”

There were mutters from the gallery. Arthur Weasley’s eyebrows were closely knit.

“On what evidence do you base that assumption, Miss Granger?” Diggory asked.

“Other than saying that Ron and Harry are best mates, the rest of his testimony does not in any
way resemble reality. Plus he did not respond to the secret signals I gave him.”

“Come again?”

“Last fall on the Hogwarts Express, Harry suggested that we come up with a signal to greet
ourselves with so that we would be certain it was who we appeared to be. We needed to use small
signals that wouldn’t be obvious to observers. My signal was to lick my lips and start off any
conversation with the word, ‘well.’ Ron’s signal was to sniff and say ‘umm.’”

“Hermione, I’m your best friend. Don’t you recognize me?” asked Ron desperately.

“Oh, you look just like Ron Weasley, but that can be achieved by Polyjuice Potion. Your lord, I
ask that any further questioning of this witness be reserved until after an hour has passed without
him having any food or liquid provided him. If after such time has passed and he still appears to
be in this form – then I shall admit my error and continue my cross-examination of him at that
time.”

Mathews stood and was very angry.

“Your lord, I must renew my objection to this highly unusual arrangement. If Miss Granger wishes
to play barrister and the court decides to entertain the whims of a schoolgirl, then I feel she
should take the witnesses *in the order they are presented.* She should not come up with
ludicrous objections simply because the witness has provided damaging testimony towards a
client.”

Diggory nodded and narrowed his eyes towards Hermione, “Miss Granger, I must admit that because
Mr. Weasley didn’t sniff and say ‘umm’ hardly seems convincing to me to delay his testimony. If you
have any questions for him, please ask them now.”

“Very well, your lord. I shall continue,” she said as she turned once again to face Ron. “Here’s
an easy question for you. Could you please tell the court the names and birth order of all of your
siblings?”

Ron blanched, “Umm, Charlie…Percy…Fred, George and Ginny.”

“Nice try. But I think you’re forgetting your oldest brother. What was his name again?” she
asked egging him on.

“Umm, I’m drawing a blank.”

“Yes, let me help you. He works for Gringotts in Cairo? Does *that* help?”

“Umm…”

“See *now* you’re using the signal. A little too late though,” she said mockingly. She then
grew serious. “I’ll help you. Your oldest brother’s name is Bilius, but everyone calls him Bill. A
few months ago when you went to your brother Charlie’s funeral – you found out that you had another
brother that was murdered by Death Eaters before you were born. A brother you never knew about.
What was *his* name?”

Ron looked angry. “You’re making this up. There was no other brother.”

“David,” she spat at him. “His name was David.”

Arthur Weasley looked directly at Ron and his face was purple with rage. Percy Weasley looked
very confused.

Hermione gave a smug smile. She looked like she was getting wound up and going in for the kill.
“Okay, whoever you are – answer me this – tell me why I would risk Harry’s temper during our third
year. After Harry’s broomstick was destroyed in a Quidditch match by the Whomping Willow, he
received a Firebolt anonymously for Christmas. I was worried that Sirius Black might have jinxed it
and sent it to him so I told Professor McGonagall of my concerns. If I was so scared of Harry’s
temper, if I were *petrified* of his wrath, why would I have told McGonagall anything?”

“Umm...”

“Or if you had your life and Ginny’s life threatened by Harry – if you were ever so scared of
him, why did you refuse to talk with him for an entire month during our fourth year?”

“Umm…”

“*You* were mad at *him* because you thought he entered his name into the Goblet of
Fire and didn’t let you in on how he tricked it. *So you stopped talking to him!*”

Mathews stood again visibly agitated. “Your lord, I object. She is badgering this witness. And
she’s using a line of questioning that has no bearing on the charges at hand.”

Hermione smiled at Judge Diggory. “Your lord, I may be badgering a witness, but he is bearing
false witness because…,” she paused and gestured towards Ron.

His flaming red hair started to fade into a pale blonde.

“Because he *is a false witness*. This is Draco Malfoy!” she announced.

There were gasps from the gallery. Cotton Mathews stood and his face was contorted. “Your lord,
I had no idea about this. I don’t know who put him up to this, but I shall find out. I apologize to
the court and ask to have this person sequestered until which time I can lead an investigation into
this matter.”

Diggory nodded gravely. “Your motion is granted. Will the bailiff please remove the
witness?”

Harry looked at Minister Fudge’s face, but it looked impassive and was impossible to read. Percy
Weasley sat shaking his head and muttered to himself. Arthur Weasley was clenching and unclenching
his fists and looked venomously in Malfoy’s direction.

“Next I call Arabella Figg,” declared Mathews.

The bailiff moved forward to the chair she was shackled in and administered three drops of
Veritaserum and made her swear an oath of honesty. The serum made her face become slack and she
struggled to continue to hold the baby in her arms.

“Professor Figg, how long have you known Sirius Black?”

“I first met him in 1978. I trained both him and James Potter as free-lance Aurors.”

“You weren’t working for the Ministry then were you?” he asked.

“No. We were working on behalf of Albus Dumbledore. We were his private agents.”
“Did you know that a Fidelius Charm was to be performed to protect the Potters?”

“I did, but I didn’t know the particulars.”

“What did you think when you heard about Black’s curse that killed thirteen people?”

“I was devastated at the news. I couldn’t believe that Sirius had done that. It was not at all
something that I would have expected from the man that I knew,” she replied.

“When was the next time that you saw him?”

“Last year, a few days after the Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore sent him to my house with a
message. He told me that Voldemort had risen again and that I was to have a new assignment.”

“What proof was offered that You-Know-Who had returned?” Mathews asked.

“Dumbledore’s word. He also told me that he had verified that Sirius was innocent.”

“No physical evidence was shown to you?” he prodded.

“No.”

“And what had been your assignment after Lily and James Potter’s deaths?”

“I was in charge of security over Harry Potter’s neighbourhood.”

“Please describe for the court what these security measures entail,” coaxed Mathews.

“I object your lord,” said Hermione. “I don’t believe that these security measures have any
bearing on the charges before the court. And should Harry Potter be found not guilty and released,
then any such testimony could prove life-threatening to him.”

Diggory nodded, “Objection, sustained.”

Mathews shot Hermione a withering look. He turned back to Professor Figg and continued. “Please
tell the court, who is the father of the child you are holding in your arms.”

“Sirius Black,” she said looking down at Soraya.

“When did you begin having an intimate relationship with him?”

“The night he delivered his message to me.”

Titters of laughter and gossiping broke out through the courtroom.

“And how did you help Mr. Black, besides making him *comfortable*?”

“I helped change his outward appearance and helped him obtain his wand. We came up with a cover
story to explain why he was staying at my house for a year while I was teaching at Hogwarts.”

“So Black was left in charge of Harry Potter’s home security measures,” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Tell me the names of all the people that have these amulets?”

“Myself, Sirius, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher and Harry
Potter,” she said.

“Did both Remus Lupin and Mundungus Fletcher know about Sirius Black’s whereabouts?”

“Yes.”

“Where are they now?” Mathews asked.

“In my house in Little Whinging watching over the security for Privet Drive.”

“What is the address?”

“Number 8 Magnolia Crescent.”

“Two more to be brought in,” he smiled as he waved to an officer in the corner of the courtroom.
That man snapped his heels and quickly left the room. “Is there anyone else that helped Sirius
Black?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Your witness.”

Hermione stood and walked over to Professor Figg. “Hello, Professor. Could you please tell the
court why you believed Professor Dumbledore’s word without any physical evidence?”

“Because I’ve known Albus Dumbledore for over thirty years. I trust him completely.”

“And Sirius Black?”

“I’ve known him through many difficult times. We grew very close after the murder of my husband
and my miscarriage. When he told me the truth about what had happened with the Potters, it made
sense. I realized then how much I loved him, that’s when we became lovers.”

“He didn’t offer you any physical evidence?”

“No, but everything in his story rang true. Later after talking with Harry, other gaps were
filled in.”

“Thank you, Professor Figg,” Hermione said as she sat down.

“Next I call Harry Potter,” Mathews said with his commanding voice echoing off the back
walls.

**

I want to thank the following for taking the time to review my work: amulder, AnimeFanatic,
Batgirl, Dream, Full Moon, Heaven, kinicky21, Megan, and SamanthaMarie.

Amulder shared some of his family’s experience with home births. I would have written a response
directly to him, but I couldn’t find an email address. I gave birth at a birthing center and my
midwife had a nurse assisting her. There was another midwife who was there at the end, but only
because I gave birth after 9 am and she was just showing up for the dayshift. If my son hadn’t
crowned for over an hour, she would have missed it. I had originally planned to have Arabella birth
in the nude because truly it was more comfortable, but some of my betas felt that was a little more
explicit than I needed to be. So I deferred to their judgment and didn’t embarrass Harry as much as
he would have been in my first draft. The politics of childbirth, ahhh, that’s a subject I could
expound quite a bit on. I shall resist though.

Cyber brownie points for anyone that knows the significance of the names for the midwife and the
inquisitor in this chapter. And as for your questions about Fudge…just wait until the next chaper!
I do realize that this is a horrible place to leave you hanging, but I just love cliffhangers!
{Evil laugh.}



16. Habeas Corpus
-----------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

**Author notes:** I'd like to thank the following for beta reading this chapter: Ama,
Cara Hicks, Maria 1314 and Lanski author of "A New Ghost" on The Dark Arts.

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Sixteen – Habeas Corpus

Harry felt his stomach lurch into his throat. He saw the bailiff come forward with the bottle of
Veritaserum and opened his mouth with hesitation.

“It goes *under* the tongue,” the bailiff barked.

Harry lifted his tongue and felt the liquid drop into his mouth. He started to feel like ice was
running throughout his veins. His mind was beginning to feel numb. He struggled to concentrate and
remember his plan with Hermione. He closed his eyes tightly. The signals, the signals, concentrate,
concentrate…he muttered to himself. It’s like the Imperius Curse, just keep focusing your mind…

“Mr. Potter, do you know Sirius Black?” asked Cotton Mathews.

“Yes. He’s my godfather.”

“Do you recognize these letters which were found in your trunk?”

“Yes, they are letters from Sirius.”

“How long have you been corresponding with him?”

“Two years,” Harry replied.

“Have you known his whereabouts for all that time?”

“Yes. This year he’s lived in Little Whinging - a few blocks from my aunt and uncle’s house. The
year before he was hiding in a cave outside Hogsmeade.”

“Who else knew that?”

“Professor Dumbledore knew about both. Ron and Hermione knew about the cave, but not about
Little Whinging. And there was Professor Figg, Snape, Remus Lupin and Mundungus Fletcher that knew
his whereabouts this year.”

Mathews gave a wicked grin to Hermione. “And can you tell the court how Sirius Black escaped
from the castle at the end of your third year?”

“Hermione and I were told by Dumbledore to try and make things right. He said we could try and
save two innocent lives that night. So we used the Time Turner that Hermione had in order to take
multiple classes simultaneously and we went back three hours in time.”

“Go on,” Mathews said menacingly.

“We untied Buckbeak, a hippogriff who had been scheduled to be executed. We hid him in the
Forbidden Forest safe from view and then we waited there until we saw our other selves emerge from
the Whomping Willow. When the Dementors started to swarm around our other selves, I summoned a
Patronus and it chased the Dementors away. Later we flew Buckbeak up to Professor Flitwick’s office
and Sirius climbed out of the window. We went back to the hospital wing just in time and no one
knew what had happened, except for Dumbledore.”

“Well, well, well. I understand now why Miss Granger was so eager to avoid any questioning. She
appears to be guilty of harbouring a fugitive as well as violating a contract with the Ministry of
Magic over controlled magical objects. She also helped a prisoner to escape. Yes, I shall enjoy
using the Veritaserum on you young lady when your time comes,” Mathews sneered.

Hermione’s face was crimson, but her eyes had a hard steely determination in them. She did not
blink or turn away from Mathews’ stare. Then he brightened and turned back to Harry.

“Yesterday, what happened after Sirius Black left Hagrid’s hut?”

“Our amulets became activated – they grew hot – which meant that one of us was in mortal danger.
I listened to Dumbledore’s instructions to get my broomstick and Invisibility Cloak and to meet
Professor Snape. He and I flew over the forest in search of where they were holding him. We started
to…”

“Did you attack Bode or Croaker?”

“I attacked Bode, Snape got Croaker,” said Harry.

“And how did you attack him?”

“I saw pine needles on the forest floor. I transfigured them into sewing needles and sent them
in his direction. They flew into his face. Then I returned them to their normal form.”

“Yes, that is what led to his blindness. If he had proper medical attention immediately his
vision might have been saved. What happened to Macnair?”

“Buckbeak who had been living in the Forbidden Forest saw Macnair. The hippogriff was trying to
protect Sirius, he probably remembered that Macnair was the one who was supposed to execute him.
Buckbeak charged him and crushed a lot of bones and caused internal injuries. I called out to
Buckbeak just as he was about to crush his skull and begged him to stop. Snape disarmed them all
and readied them for transport back to the castle. I released Sirius and we were all levitating
them back on stretchers to the castle when we were arrested.”

“Tell me, Mr. Potter, this past summer when you were home. Did you see your godfather when he
was living only a few blocks away?” asked Mathews.

“Yes. I went over there every day.”

“And did you do anything while you were there?”

“Yes, Professor Figg and Sirius were giving me private lessons.”

“Piano lessons? Dance lessons? What *kind* of lessons?”

“Magic lessons. They helped me with Transfiguration and also with Animagus training,” Harry
said.

“Ahhh, more charges against him. He admits to repeatedly violating the underage wizarding law.
Flouted the law in fact. And engaged in unauthorized Animagus training, to boot. Please tell the
court, what kind of animal were you training to become?”

“A snake.”

“*A Snake?* That’s your inner spirit? A Serpent? Ladies and Gentleman, what more do I need
to show you that this lad is Evil? In his own words, Harry Potter admits to acting to free a
prisoner, to aid, abet and harbour a fugitive, he admits to attacking Ministry of Magic agents, to
violating the Ministry of Magic’s strict regulations regarding Time Turners, to flouting the
underage Wizarding laws, and not only can he converse with snakes, but his *inner spirit is that
of a serpent.* A symbol that is widely recognized as belonging to the darkest of all wizards. He
deserves to be given a life sentence in Azkaban!”

He then turned in a flourish to Hermione and snarled, “Your witness!”

Hermione was beginning to stand when Soraya started crying. Professor Figg tried to rearrange
her clothes to feed the baby but her manacles were in the way.

“Excuse me, Judge Diggory. But my daughter needs to be fed. Could someone please remove the
restraints from my hands so that I can feed her? She may also need to be changed. Perhaps this
might be a good time for a recess? I’m sure others might appreciate a chance to relieve
themselves.”

Diggory looked about the room and heads were nodding in every direction.

“Very well, the court stands in recess,” he said as he rapped his gavel. “We will reconvene in
fifteen minutes. Bailiffs, please ask the defendants if they wish to use the facilities and escort
them if they do.”

Hermione walked up to Harry as he was being taken away by a bailiff.

“Did you get the stuff?” he asked.

“Yes, but I still don’t know why…” she stammered.

Harry looked at her and mouthed two words he had learned from working with her on his expulsion
defence. She looked at him with a furrowed brow and then started to thumb through her law book. As
she started reading a look of comprehension dawned on her and she gave Harry a huge smile. He
breathed a sigh of relief as he left the courtroom. He knew she could make this work. He just had
to keep his wits about him.

After the courtroom reconvened, Hermione stood and looked at Harry. She smiled and licked her
lips, “Well, Harry…”

He blinked slowly and said, “Er, yeah, Hermione?”

“Okay, we’ll start,” she said brightly. “He at least passed the signal test. Harry, you were
never given the opportunity to tell the court why you trust Sirius Black. What happened that night
two years ago at the Shrieking Shack when we first met your godfather?”

Harry relayed the story of how Ron was dragged to the shack and how he and Hermione had followed
in an effort to rescue Ron. How Remus Lupin had followed them to the Shrieking Shack thinking that
they needed rescuing, but wound up instead siding with Sirius. He retold the strange story of the
Marauders and how three friends became unregistered Animagi to help Lupin in his werewolf state.
Then he told how Scabbers was revealed to be Peter Pettigrew, the Potters’ actual Secret-Keeper and
the person who had betrayed Lily and James Potter.

Minister Fudge stood at this point.

“Your lord, as entertaining as this may be, I must object. I heard this fairy tale two years
ago. Frankly, I’ve become very tired of it. Professor Snape himself was in the Shrieking Shack that
night and swore that Black had put the children under a Confundus Charm. I don’t know why Snape has
sided with Black now, but…I see no evidence to contradict that while Potter may *believe* he
saw Peter Pettigrew, that it wasn’t just him being Confunded.”

Harry Potter started to sneeze. He sneezed three times.

Hermione then crossed to Judge Diggory’s desk. “Your lordship, at this time – I would like to
bring forth the evidence that Minister Fudge is demanding.”

“What?” Diggory asked in surprise.

She dug into the pocket of her robe and brought forth a small bottle. “Here your lord, is a
bottle of ordinary Muggle medicine. Serum of epicac. You can inspect it, there’s nothing magical or
untoward about it. It’s unopened and untampered with.”

“And what do you want to do with this?” he asked.

“Harry Potter asked me to get this for use during these proceedings. I didn’t understand why
until a few minutes ago. Please let me administer this to my client and you will see. And can
someone get a basin for him?”

A bailiff quickly returned with a basin, which was handed to Harry. He took a few swigs from the
bottle and soon started to look green around the gills.

“Mr. Mathews could you have your wand drawn and at the ready please?” Hermione asked as she
watched Harry intently.

Harry began to retch violently and Hermione thrust her hand into the basin. She grasped the tail
of a wriggling rat with a silver paw.

“*Habeas corpus!* You have the body,” she said to gasps throughout the room.

A few of the spectators in the front row seemed to have trouble keeping their lunch down in
response to the scene before them.

“Please Mr. Mathews, if you could transform him for us please,” said Hermione as she held the
rat aloft.

Mathews trained his wand on the rat and blue-white light sparked all over it. The form grew and
stretched until Peter Pettigrew stood before the courtroom. Cotton Mathews quickly disarmed him and
conjured ropes around Pettigrew’s arms and legs. Shrieks were heard throughout the court.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Peter Pettigrew,” Hermione announced. “A man who had been
awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class *posthumously* for having tracked down Sirius Black
and for having ‘lost’ that duel. It should be obvious to everyone in this room that he is not dead.
Perhaps that indicates the award he received is something he did not rightfully earn. I ask that
the court allow me to interrupt my cross-examination of Harry Potter and allow me to interrogate
Mr. Pettigrew.”

“So granted,” said Diggory.

Minister Fudge started fidgeting in his seat.

“Could you please administer Veritaserum to this witness?” Hermione asked the bailiff. She
glanced at Diggory, who nodded assent.

The bailiff stepped forward and yanked Pettigrew’s head back. He put the dropper under his
tongue.

“For the record, could you please state your name for the court and any aliases you may have,”
Hermione asked.

“My name is Peter Pettigrew. I also go by Wormtail. I was also known as Scabbers,” he said
tonelessly.

“A Fidelius Charm was performed to protect James and Lily Potter. Were you the Potters’
Secret-Keeper?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Was Sirius Black also a Secret-Keeper?”

“No, it was Sirius’s idea that I be made the Secret-Keeper. He thought it would be a good bluff
because no one would have expected that the Potters would entrust such a responsibility with
me.”

“How did Voldemort find the Potters?” asked Hermione.

“I led him to their house.”

“He is your master?”

“Yes,” he said shivering.

“Are you a Death Eater?”

“Yes.”

“What happened the day after the Potters were killed, when you saw Sirius Black?”

“Sirius tracked me down. I knew he wanted to kill me for revenge, but he was afraid to do
anything with so many Muggles around. I caused a diversion and then I threw a tickling charm on
Sirius. It distracted him long enough for me to cast a flame-freezing charm on myself and then
cause an explosion that killed a dozen or so Muggle bystanders. The curse was so violent that it
exploded my wand. I cut my finger off and dripped blood all over my robes and threw them out with
the finger onto the pavement. Then I transformed into a rat and ran down the sewer.”

“Did you find your way into a wizarding family?” Hermione prodded.

“Yes, the Weasleys. I belonged to Percy Weasley for many years and then later to Ron
Weasley.”

Percy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Two years ago, the night you escaped after Sirius Black exposed you for what you were, what did
you do?” asked Hermione.

“I left and found where my master had been hiding in Albania. I helped nurse him back to health.
He needed a body to possess, so I kidnapped a Muggle baby from a park and he possessed that body
until we could perform a ceremony and get him his own adult body back.”

“Did Voldemort come up with a plan for Harry Potter?” she asked.

“Yes. I met Bertha Jorkins by accident at a tavern, but brought her back to my master. He
tortured her and found out about the Quidditch World Cup and plans for the Triwizard Tournament. He
also found out that Bartemius Crouch, Jr. was still alive and living in his father’s house.”

Gasps were audible from the crowd around them.

“Please continue,” Hermione urged.

“Crouch, Sr. had spirited his son out of Azkaban when his wife was near death. She died in the
wizard prison while appearing to be her son with the aid of Polyjuice Potion. Crouch, Jr. had lived
secretly in his father’s house and under the Imperius curse for years. My master and I overpowered
Crouch, Sr. and liberated Barty Jr. My master planned that Crouch, Jr. would impersonate Alastor
Moody at Hogwarts. Crouch and I went to Moody’s house, attacked him and held him prisoner in his
own magical trunk. Crouch used Polyjuice Potion to pass himself off as Moody all year long. Crouch
was the one to put Harry Potter’s name in the Goblet of Fire. He helped Potter by giving him hints
during the year so that he would win the tournament and be transported by Portkey to the graveyard.
There I performed a ceremony where I cut off my hand,” he raised his silver hand to the crowd. “I
also took Harry Potter’s blood forcibly to create the potion which brought my master’s body
back.”

There were now screams from all over the room. Terror was evident in their faces.

“Silence!” Diggory banged his gavel. “I will have silence in my courtroom. Anyone who speaks out
of turn will be removed.”

Hermione took a deep breath and then continued.

“Just a few more questions. Who killed Cedric Diggory?”

“I did. My master ordered it.”

Judge Diggory’s eyes were trained on Pettigrew and were filled with pure venom.

“What happened last Halloween night at Azkaban?”

“Wallace Avery and I accompanied our master. He promised the Dementors that they’d have better
prey if they followed him. Most of the prisoners were released and joined my master immediately.
Two were hopelessly insane or near death, so they were killed to make it look like the Dementors
might have killed everyone. It was a deliberate attempt to sow confusion.”

“Do you know anything about Charlie Weasley’s death?”

“Yeah, Macnair was responsible for it,” he answered. “It was to punish Arthur Weasley for not
joining my master’s forces.”

Mr. Weasley’s face had a look of absolute murderous rage. Percy sat shaking his head as if he
couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“What happened at his funeral?”

“I was sent there since I knew the area well. Percy and his brothers used to play on Stoatshead
Hill. I knew exactly which standing stone to hide behind and I transfigured the flowers into
adders. My master hoped that it might cause Harry to perform magic outside of school and get him
expelled.”

“Why was Sirius Black in the Forbidden Forest yesterday?” Hermione asked.

“We were setting a trap for Harry Potter. I was to bring him back to my master.”

“The Ministry officials that were with you, are they Death Eaters?” she asked.

“Macnair is. Bode and Croaker are spies for us. They’ve never been formally initiated as Death
Eaters.”

Hermione nodded and then pressed further. “How many people in the Ministry are Death
Eaters?”

“My master has recruited supporters and spies in every department. I don’t know how many there
are, but there are at least thirty now.”

“One last question for you,” Hermione said as she levelled her eyes towards Fudge. “Is Minister
Cornelius Fudge a Death Eater?”

“No, but he’s been a long-time supporter and spy.”

The room erupted into chaos. Fudge stood up and started stammering excuses. Percy looked shocked
and moved away from Fudge as quickly as possible. Judge Diggory banged his gavel violently, trying
desperately to regain control of the courtroom.

A tall and very elderly looking wizard stood in the back of the room and commanded,
*“Sonorus!”*

His voice was then magically amplified in the room. “As a ranking member of the International
Confederation of Wizards, I would like to make a motion to recess from these current proceedings.
We should offer the current Minister of Magic the ability to identify a barrister if he so chooses
and in one hour’s time we shall reconvene to begin an inquiry into the charges that have been
levelled against him. Along with the very real possibility that a confidence vote shall be called
at any time.”

Diggory looked up at the man and a relieved look crossed his face. “Is there a second?” he
asked.

“SECOND!” the room seemed to shout in unison.

“All those in favour?” Diggory asked.

“AYE!” came the thunderous reply.

“We’re adjourned until further notice,” Diggory said rapping his gavel.

The room erupted in noise once again. People were angrily denouncing Fudge. The words ‘Death
Eater,’ ‘Fudge,’ and ‘disgrace,’ were heard repeatedly. The bailiffs didn’t know how to respond to
the entire room standing and milling about.

At first there was confusion as to what was to happen with the prisoners. Harry sat in his chair
and waited for someone to come forward. Finally Mr. Weasley came and spoke with Cotton Mathews, who
nodded after awhile. Mr. Weasley then went and talked with several of the guards who came forward
and ushered the five prisoners across the hall into a waiting conference room. They were unshackled
and told that they had to remain in this room until further notice. The conference room had a
massive oak table in the centre of the room surrounded by large carved wooden chairs.

As soon as he was unshackled Harry looked desperately around the room for Hermione. He needed to
find her. He found himself pushing people aside looking for her. When his eyes finally met hers he
felt like they were the only two people in the room. He called out her name, rushed to her and
pulled her into his arms. He had a fleeting thought to simply give her a friendly congratulatory
kiss on the cheek, but instead he wound up kissing her solidly on the mouth. This was the first
time he had ever kissed a girl and as soon as his lips touched hers, the Veritaserum took hold and
he found that his desire for her put all thoughts of a chaste kiss out of his mind. The
overwhelming urge to kiss her that he had first felt at Christmas was now being completely
surrendered to.

Harry’s passion was quickly met by Hermione’s lips, which responded to him. She threw her arms
around his neck and pressed her body against his. Her mouth opened and as their kiss deepened,
Harry felt as if he was falling in her arms. His head was spinning out of control and he wondered
how he had resisted kissing her for so long.

“Ahem,” someone said quite loudly behind them.

The loud clearing of the throat brought Harry back to reality and reminded him that they were in
a room full of people. He broke the kiss and saw Hermione’s closed eyes and her lips pursed in
mid-pucker in the air. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked up at him very surprised. They were
still locked in an embrace and Harry was grinning down at her.

“Thanks Hermione,” he beamed. “I knew you could do it. We would all be in Azkaban right now
without your being there to help us. You were incredible.”

Once again someone cleared their throat behind Harry. He turned around and saw that it was
Snape. Harry began to blush furiously and then let his arms drop from Hermione’s side. Snape came
forward and extended his hand to her.

“Miss Granger, I wanted to extend to you my deepest gratitude. You did an admirable job in
there. I was very impressed.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape,” Hermione squeaked as she shook his hand.

Dumbledore made his way forward and also shook her hand.

“Yes, you did a fine job Miss Granger. I expect someday to see you as the Minister of
Magic.”

“Thank you,” she gasped, “Thank you very much Professor Dumbledore.”

“No, the thanks belong to you, Miss Granger,” he continued. “Not only from those who you so ably
defended, but the Magical Community at large. You helped to show that Justice means divining the
Truth and not just administering a truth potion and asking one-sided questions.”

“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry interjected. “What do you think is going to happen now?”

“I am optimistic that all the charges against us will be dropped,” he replied with a twinkle in
his eyes. “And that charges will soon be brought against Macnair, Bode, Croaker, Pettigrew, Avery
and Fudge before the night is over.”

Hagrid then came forward and embraced both Harry and Hermione in a large bear hug. Their feet
were raised four feet in the air before he set them down.

“Blimey, you were ruddy brilliant, Hermione. I shoulda had you come an’ defend Buckbeak. I didn’
know what I was doin’, but you,” and he squeezed her again. “You knew jus’ what to do.”

Hermione looked like she had the wind knocked out of her and began to wheeze. Dumbledore stepped
forward to usher Hagrid away to another part of the room.

“Are you okay, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just let me catch my breath,” she gasped.

Then Sirius and Professor Figg stepped forward. Sirius was holding Soraya in his arms and
reached down and gave Hermione a warm kiss on the cheek.

“Where were you when I was first arrested? I needed someone like you back then,” he beamed and
kissed her on the other cheek. “You were fantastic. The panel of witches and wizards were very
impressed with you. You won’t have any trouble in finding an occupation when you graduate. Your
difficulty will be in wading through all the hundreds of offers that’ll be coming your way.”

Professor Figg then embraced her, “Thank you Hermione, for saving my family.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Hermione said modestly and then turned to Harry. “Why didn’t you tell
me about your swallowing Pettigrew?”

“I couldn’t. We were surrounded by Ministry officials. I tried to give you subtle clues, but was
afraid to say anything explicit. I knew that if I could produce him in front of a courtroom full of
witnesses that it couldn’t be covered up.”

“How did you know when to use that stuff in the bottle?” Sirius asked her.

“Harry told me that he’d sneeze three times when he needed it. But I had no idea why until he
mouthed the words ‘*habeas corpus*’ right before he left the courtroom in recess. *Habeas
corpus* is Latin for ‘you have the body.’ As soon as I looked it up I understood because Harry
had said something before we got on the minibus about needing to bring up Scabbers in the
testimony,” Hermione said laughing. “When I thought of how he was a snake Animagus, I realized what
he must have done in the forest.”

Soon food was brought into the conference room and everyone was milling about laughing, talking
and eating. The room took on an almost party atmosphere. The worries of the last day seemed to have
lifted and they were hoping that they’d soon have good news. They had just piled their plates with
food when shouts and disturbances were heard from across the hall. A few minutes later, Moody
walked in.

“They’re dropping all the charges against all of you,” he growled. “You’ll be transported back
to Hogwarts by the Knight Bus within the hour. The former Minister will be transported to Azkaban
along with the Death Eaters and spies you apprehended awaiting their trials. They also issued a
warrant for arrest out for Wallace Avery. Albus, they were wondering if you might stay around here
to help in the full inquiry.”

“I’ll stay through tomorrow evening, but then I must get back to Hogwarts. I would recommend
that Arthur Weasley be placed in charge of the matter. He’s been with the Ministry for decades and
I’m certain that his loyalty has never wavered.”

“Very well, I’ll tell them that you’ll help get things started, but that you won’t be in charge
of the inquiry,” Moody said as he clunked his way out of the room.

“And I think,” Dumbledore said to Harry, “that there’s a good chance that your expulsion hearing
might be cancelled due to recent events. We now know that it was a Death Eater plot at the funeral
that led to your violation of the underage wizardry law, this coupled with the fact that the person
who filed the complaint against you was just forcibly removed from office after having been
revealed as an agent for Voldemort. That should be enough to sway the Board of Governors. You
should also be aware that it was my good friend Albert Albini who moved to adjourn the proceedings.
I think he probably saw enough testimony today to form an opinion regarding your integrity and
where your loyalties lie and to realize that your performing magic outside of school was in the
best of intentions.”

Dumbledore then turned to Snape, “Severus, I’ll be leaving you in charge to see that everyone
gets back to school safely on the Knight Bus. Please tell Professor McGonagall that I should be
back at the school tomorrow night. I also need to see about the security at Privet Drive. I want to
make sure that Fletcher and Lupin haven’t been detained and that yesterday’s attack hasn’t weakened
its defences.”

Sirius took Professor Figg’s hand and led her into a corner. He had a determined look on his
face.

“What is it Sirius?” she asked.

He gently handed her their daughter and got on bended knee. “Arabella Figg, will you marry
me?”

She looked at him, her face filled with emotion, “I would love to.”

He stood up and began kissing her passionately, with baby Soraya squirming between them. When
Sirius broke the kiss, he turned to Harry, “Will you be my Best Man?”

“Of course!”

“Hermione, I’d like you to be my Maid of Honour.”

“Certainly, Professor Figg,” she replied.

“Well, I guess all we have to do is decide where and when,” said Sirius.

“At Hogwarts, of course,” Dumbledore interjected. “We’ll have it on the day that the Hogwarts
Express leaves so you can have it as intimate as you’d like. Anyone that stays like Mr. Potter and
Miss Granger can take the Knight Bus home the next day. Congratulations you two. It has been far
too long since we’ve had something to celebrate. So with that in mind, you have my approval to
spare no expense on this celebration. And Sirius, you should stay in the faculty quarters tonight.
You can go back to Little Whinging in the morning.”

Dumbledore then leaned over and gave Professor Figg a warm kiss on the cheek, “I’m happy for
you.”

“The first thing I’m going to do when we get back to Hogwarts is send an owl to my parents,”
Sirius announced. “I need to tell them that their son is alive and well, innocent, cleared of all
charges, that I’m hopelessly in love with the most incredible woman who’s agreed to marry me and
that they are grandparents.”

“I think they’re going to love getting that letter,” Professor Figg said. “I’ve never met them
before. Do you think they’ll like me?”

“They’ll adore you,” he said embracing her, “and they’ll go crazy over Soraya. I’m sure that my
mother will Apparate into Hogsmeade the minute she reads the letter. She won’t waste any time in
getting to know her only grandchild.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s wonderful and umm, she’s heard a lot about you,” Sirius said with a sly smile. “I used to
tell her things about my job and she’d always interject that I needed to find a girl just like you
to settle down with. So I wouldn’t worry too much about whether or not she’ll like you. She began
using you as the gold standard for me to find a partner and that’s without even having met you. And
that was long before I had fallen in love with you.”

Professor Figg smiled and kissed her fiancé.

“Thanks, I don’t feel quite so nervous. Hermione, come over here,” Professor Figg motioned, “we
need to start talking about wedding plans. I think this weekend we should go to Hogsmeade and look
at dresses.”

Sirius walked up to Harry and spoke to him in an undertone, “Tonight when we go back on the
Knight Bus, if you don’t profess your undying love to Hermione, then you’ll be the biggest fool
I’ve ever met. You will never find another woman who is so devoted to you, that cares for you
because of who you are and not due to your fame or looks. Do your best to make her forget every
other boy she has ever met. Kiss her like she’s never been kissed before. I’ll do what I can to
help get you some privacy.”

Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded. He returned to Hermione’s side and slid his arm around her
back and squeezed gently. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

Later as they all were leaving the Ministry of Magic behind, Harry and Hermione were about to
enter the Knight Bus when Sirius tapped his godson on the shoulder. “Follow me, you two.”

Sirius led them up the stairs to the second level on the bus and to the bed at the very back.
There was no one else in any of the nearby beds. He conjured some curtains to surround the bed.

“Why don’t you two take this opportunity to just talk quietly or…maybe finish that kiss?” he
said slyly.

Harry and Hermione blushed.

“Umm, Sirius, don’t you think that might get in the papers if we went behind a curtain?” asked
Hermione.

“Let’s hope that they’ve got a little bit more important news than idle gossip to cover
tomorrow. You know, like how the trial went and how Fudge was disgraced and removed from office?
Maybe print something about there being proof that Voldemort has risen. Or maybe they might even
issue a retraction or two about me.”

Sirius then motioned to Harry. They walked a few paces away and Sirius said to him quietly,
“Keep it clean. Hands on top of the clothes and stay on top of the blankets.”

Harry nodded and felt his face blush even further.

Snape came striding towards them and looked very disturbed. “Black what is the meaning of this
curtain? Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, I think we need to remember some propriety here. We are still
officially on Hogwarts’ business. I think this curtain would serve to allow *inappropriate*
behavior.”

“Severus,” said Sirius softly, “Let’s give the kids some privacy. They’re young and in
love…”

“And I thought she said they weren’t a couple,” Snape said coolly.

“Well, um, I think all that has changed. And I believe that part of her testimony fell under the
category, ‘I think thou dost protest too much.’ Severus, after a day like we’ve all had, they
deserve to have a little celebratory kissing. Believe me, they won’t do much more. These beds are
charmed so if anyone tries to umm, use them for *other* purposes that the bedsprings will have
an amplified squeak heard throughout the bus.”

“And how would you know that?” Snape asked.

“Well, in my younger and reckless days…” Sirius began.

Snape waved his hands in trying to stop him from continuing, “Of course. I don’t know why I
questioned your knowledge of such things.” He then turned to Hermione, “Very well, I shall allow
this curtain to stay. But I remind you to not bring any embarrassment to Hogwarts. I would also
like to mention to Miss Granger that the effects of Veritaserum will still be in effect for about
another hour or so on Potter.”

Sirius then turned to Snape, “Severus, I never properly thanked you for helping Harry to rescue
me. I’ve also never apologized for the horrible prank I pulled on you so many years ago. I was a
prat, a blooming idiot and a bloody asshole. I was reckless and there’s no excuse for what I did
and I want to say that I am sorry. I’m glad that James had the presence of mind to intervene on
your behalf before anything tragic happened.”

Snape nodded, “Thank you, Sirius. I appreciate that.”

Sirius clapped his hand on Snape’s back and said, “Let me buy you a drink. There’s a bar on the
third floor. Maybe we can try to put aside all the garbage from our childhood years and start
working on getting to know each other as adults.”

Snape eyed him warily as they walked away together towards the front of the bus.

Harry turned to Hermione. They both had wide-open mouths.

“I can’t believe it,” Harry began. “Sirius and Snape seem to be trying to get along with each
other. I never thought I’d see that.”

Hermione took him by the hand and they slipped behind the curtain and sat down on the bed. They
looked at each other and Harry’s heart melted. He took her face and held it in his hands. As he
gazed into her dark brown eyes he knew that he had to tell her what was in his heart. He wasn’t
sure if he was just following Sirius’s advice, if it was due to the Veritaserum, or if he simply
needed to admit to himself and to her all the feelings of attraction he had been experiencing
towards her for months. All he knew was that he had to tell her exactly how he felt about her.

“You are so beautiful. I realized today just how much you mean to me. I love your passion for
justice, your quick wit and your unswerving loyalty. You’re not only my best friend, but you’re the
woman I love,” he said softly.

“How long have you felt this way towards me?” she asked.

“I started feeling strongly attracted to you at Christmas when we talked after that reading I
gave you. I had never really seen you as a whole person before and my heart went out to you when I
saw you in such pain. I knew that it wouldn’t be the right time to say anything about how I felt
towards you then, it would have only complicated things. And then you wore that red dress. I had a
hard time controlling myself and not kiss you then. I was afraid that it might ruin our friendship
if you didn’t feel the same way towards me.”

“I wanted you to kiss me then,” she said. “I wanted you to tell me to dump Viktor. I would have
done it. But it’s probably a good thing you didn’t. I was such an emotional train wreck then. If
you had told me that night that you were interested in me, I’m sure I would have scared you off by
being so needy.”

Harry brushed the hair off her face. “Today when you said so confidently that we weren’t a
couple, I began to think that maybe you weren’t interested in me.”

“I had to say it that way. I told the truth, but I was afraid that if Judge Diggory knew what
was in my heart, that he would never have allowed me to defend you. I’ve wanted us to be a couple
for so long. I’ve dreamt of us together. This past month I had to literally stop myself from
kissing you half a dozen times.”

“Me, too,” Harry admitted. “I’ve been so worried that I might not see you again if I were
expelled. I would have made my move after you broke up with Krum, but there was that picture in the
paper. I didn’t know if you’d ever forgive me. Then after Charlie’s death, I became really worried
about your safety more than ever. I didn’t want to make you any more of a target for Death Eaters
than you already are. Now, I realize it doesn’t matter and I can’t deny my feelings for you any
longer.”

Hermione’s eyes started to water and she leaned forward to kiss Harry. The Knight Bus jerked
forward with a loud Bang! This threw them backwards onto the bed with Hermione on top of him. Their
mouths hungrily connected and their kissing became intense.

Harry’s mind began swimming with images of Hermione. He saw her the first day they met on the
Hogwarts Express…being attacked by a mountain troll…going under Fluffy’s trap door…her throwing her
arms around him before he faced Quirrell alone…Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday party…her pouring
the Polyjuice Potion in glasses…looking like an overgrown cat…then petrified…her screaming “you
solved it!” after he vanquished the Basilisk…carrying Crookshanks in Diagon Alley…hiding her head
behind a book when McGonagall seized his Firebolt… telling Hagrid that she would help him defend
Buckbeak… slapping Malfoy…the look of fear on her face when they first saw Sirius Black in the
Shrieking Shack…the two of them wearing her timeturner necklace and feeling how close together they
were standing…waiting in the darkened broom cupboard with her as their previous selves walked
by…having her arms around his waist as they flew on Buckbeak to save Sirius…walking with her at the
magical spectacle of the Quidditch World Cup…the terror later that night in the woods…the anger she
felt at Winky’s mistreatment by Crouch and Diggory…walking around the lake together the morning
after he was named the fourth Triwizard champion…helping Harry with Summoning charms before the
first task…the claw marks on her face after he dealt with the Hungarian Horntail…her walking in on
Viktor Krum’s arm at the Yule Ball…

That last image stuck in Harry’s mind. He was now trying to actively change that image. He saw
himself dropping Parvati’s arm and walking over to Hermione – tapping her on the shoulder and
taking her in his arms and kissing her for the whole school to see.

Harry started to feel a warmth spread through his veins and throughout his body. His mind seemed
to sharpen and he realized that the Veritaserum was wearing off. New sensations started to flood
his body. Harry became very aware of Hermione’s body lying on top of him and her firm developing
breasts pressing down on his chest. Her hands were running through his long thick hair. One of her
legs was resting across his body and one of her hips was gently grinding into his pelvis. He felt
as if steam was rising in his body. Hermione seemed to have sensed that the intensity of his
passion was now surging because she rolled onto her side and Harry turned over to meet her gaze.
They lay there smiling and looking at each other.

“I love you, Harry Potter. I started loving you the day that you jumped on the back of that
mountain troll and stuck your wand up its nose. It was so incredibly brave and so incredibly
stupid. I couldn’t believe that anyone would risk their life for me. I’ve been in love with you
ever since,” Hermione said softly.

Tears started to form in his eyes as he began to kiss her tenderly and then passionately. Harry
finally understood what Sirius had told him about love all those months ago. Love was the most
powerful magic he had ever felt and his heart felt like it had swollen in his body and was about to
burst. He was in love and was loved in return - it felt far better than he had ever imagined.

*

After they left the Knight Bus, Harry and Hermione walked slowly arm in arm back to Gryffindor
Tower. Neither wanted to enter the common room and end the evening. They stopped and kissed in
front of the Fat Lady.

“’Tis a little past curfew isn’t it?” she asked them slyly.

“*Carpe diem*,” Harry responded.

“All right you two,” the Fat Lady said as she swung the portrait open.

They climbed in through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. It was deserted
and silent.

“Would you like to talk?” he asked.

Hermione nodded. Harry looked at the fireplace and thought it would be nice to have a fire, even
though they didn’t need it for warmth. *“Incendio!”* he called and immediately there was a
roaring fire. Hermione took Harry by the hand and led him to the large wingback chair sitting in
front of the fireplace. He sat down and she curled up in his lap. They sat there gazing into each
other’s eyes. Harry’s left arm was wrapped around her back while he softly stroked the side of her
face.

“Harry, when I saw that picture of you looking at me. I *was* embarrassed, but I was also
encouraged. I knew that you were starting to see me as a girl and not just as a friend.”

“I couldn’t miss that fact when you were wearing that dress.”

“Harry, have you ever dreamt about me?” she asked quietly.

He nodded. “Constantly. I’ve dreamt of holding you, kissing you and…touching you all over.”

Harry brought his face to hers and gave her full lingering kisses. His right hand went down to
her waist and slowly moved up to caress her left breast. Hermione uttered a soft moan and she began
unbuttoning her blouse. She took his hand and placed it underneath the silky fabric of her bra.
Harry felt the hair on his scalp tingle. The sensation of feeling her breast was far better than he
had ever imagined. He softly pinched the hard little nipple between his thumb and forefinger and
then slowly felt the small little bumps on the areola.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione murmured as she nibbled on an earlobe.

She shifted in his lap and moved his hand to cup her exposed breast. She put her hand behind his
head and started drawing him near her. Harry felt his breath on her chest and was a centimetre from
kissing it when…

*Creakkkk**!*

“Harry is that you?” asked Ron’s familiar voice coming down the stairs.

Harry’s head snapped back and he jerked his hand out of Hermione’s blouse. She was busily
redoing her buttons and trying to smooth her hair.

Ron came into view and saw the two of them together in the wingback chair. There would be no way
to deny what had been happening between them.

“Umm, Harry, Hermione, were you two…” Ron sniffed.

Harry blinked. “Er, we were….kissing,” Harry said with a goofy grin on his face. Ron would have
had to find out sooner or later about them. There was no point in trying to lie to Ron when he was
caught with Hermione sitting on his lap.

“So are you two…?”

“A couple,” Harry said happily.

“Oh,” said Ron stupidly. He didn’t seem like he really wanted to deal with that fact just yet.
“What happened yesterday and today? Where were you and Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and Figg?
There were all kinds of wild rumours flying around, but I don’t know what to believe.”

Harry and Hermione stood up and moved over to sit down on one end of the couch. They sat holding
hands and she leaned against Harry. Ron sat down on the other end of the couch and looked very
uncomfortable.

“Well, first off, Professor Figg gave birth,” said Hermione licking her lips.

“What? She was pregnant? I thought Malfoy was just being mean about her gaining a little
weight,” exclaimed Ron.

“Well, she tried her best to keep it a secret. She’s tall and so it doesn’t show as much as it
does with shorter women,” explained Hermione. “I mean I’m sure that when I get pregnant I’ll look
like I’ve got a watermelon under my skirt.”

“Thanks for the visual,” Ron said shaking his head.

“Well it’s true,” Hermione said defensively. “Tall women have a lot of advantages over us
‘vertically challenged’ women. That’s just one of them. They’ve got a longer trunk so they carry
their pregnancies differently. Plus she had been wearing full robes, which can hide a lot.”

“She’s also pretty adept at Disillusionment charms,” added Harry. “Anyway, that’s why we left
yesterday after breakfast. She sent us word that it was time.”

“Why did she want you there, Harry?” asked Ron his eyes narrowing.

“Because Sirius is the father and he was there, too,” answered Harry.

*“What?”* said Ron in visible shock. “Did you know about those two?”

Harry nodded. “Umm, yeah. You see, Professor Figg used to be my babysitter.”

“What?” Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

“Except she didn’t look like she does now. She took an aging potion and looked like she was in
her eighties. She was in charge of my security growing up. Remember at the beginning of the year
when she said she had provided security for a private client? Dumbledore hired her to provide my
protection. Anyway, last summer she and Sirius started tutoring me extensively. That’s how I got so
good at Transfiguration. They helped me become an Animagus.”

“W-what kind of animal are you?” Ron asked nervously.

“A snake.”

Ron looked disgusted.

“I know. I’m not too thrilled with that either. Anyway, last summer when I saw them together it
was pretty obvious how they felt about one another. When she came here to teach, Sirius stayed at
her house watching over the neighbourhood. I hated not telling you two about my summer, but they
were worried about his safety. They swore me to secrecy. Anyway, I didn’t realize she was pregnant
until last week when she asked me to stay after class. She propped her feet up and I saw the way
her robe hung on her body. That was when she asked me to help her when she was in labour.”

“Sirius was there at the birth,” Hermione interjected, “but I didn’t recognize him. He had
changed his appearance and voice and even though he was right there beside me I didn’t know it was
him.”

“So she gave birth and then…”

Harry then told Ron all about Sirius leaving a little while after Soraya was born, his being
taken hostage and how Harry and Snape rescued Sirius and captured the Death Eaters. Then how things
got turned upside-down after they returned to the castle. How instead of the Death Eaters being
taken away by the Ministry of Magic, that Harry, Sirius, and Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and Figg
were arrested and taken for an emergency trial and how Hagrid, the midwife and Hermione were
brought along as material witnesses because they were at the birth but not considered part of the
conspiracy to safeguard Sirius.

Ron was fascinated to hear about the court proceedings and how Hermione was able to convince the
assembled panel to allow her to act as a barrister. He shook his head in wonder. “They obviously
didn’t know how intelligent and clever you are.”

“Once she started speaking in front of the assembled crowd, they didn’t have a prayer to dismiss
her. She was so impassioned that Judge Diggory was shamed into allowing her to be our barrister,”
Harry said with pride.

Ron became livid as Harry and Hermione explained how Draco Malfoy had tried to pass himself off
as Ron using Polyjuice Potion. “I’m going to kill Malfoy. When the investigators from the Ministry
came and started tearing apart all of our possessions looking for whatever it was they wanted, they
must have found a loose hair of mine somewhere.”

Harry nodded. “The ministry is riddled with spies for Voldemort. I don’t envy your father for
working there right now. Oh and you didn’t hear the best part --”

Ron leaned forward, “Go on…”

“Fudge is no longer the Minister of Magic. When Hermione got to my cross-examination, I wound up
regurgitating Wormtail in front of the whole gallery. They then had living proof that Sirius was
innocent. Hermione got to ask some questions of that damned rat and he implicated Fudge as being a
Voldemort supporter!”

“No. Way.” Ron said with his jaw wide open. “But Harry, how did you get Wormtail inside of
you?”

“Oh, when we were in the forest I saw him in his rat form. I turned into my Animagus form and
swallowed him,” Harry said matter-of-factly.

“Ewww, and then you just threw him up in court? I think *I’m* gonna be sick. But, ah, how
come Wormtail wasn’t, you know, digested?” Ron asked looking a bit queasy.

“I put a spell on him before I swallowed him,” Harry explained. “I got the idea from that Greek
Mythology book Hermione showed you. I thought if I could just capture him that way, then I wouldn’t
have to worry about that vermin escaping again. I was more worried about him transforming back to
his human state while inside me. Thankfully my spell worked to keep him safely in his rat form
while in my stomach. Anyway, they recessed our proceedings so they could investigate Fudge. An hour
or so later we were told that we were free to go and that Sirius’s name was cleared!”

“Wow! I can’t…I can’t believe I WASN’T THERE!” Ron bellowed. “Of all the things we’ve been
through together, why wasn’t I there for this?”

“I think Fudge wanted you to be a ringer to provide damning testimony. But they couldn’t trust
that you would say the things they wanted said to implicate me, so they got Malfoy to do it because
he at least knows us and could try to imitate you. No one would be able to get away with trying to
imitate Hermione,” Harry said as he gave her hand a squeeze.

“I’m going to kill Malfoy this time,” repeated Ron coldly.

“We’re not sure if he did this on his own or if he was under the Imperius curse. He’s still
being held at the Ministry and will not be here tomorrow to take the O.W.L.s.” said Hermione.

“Oh yeah, those,” Ron said simply. “Well if it turns out he wasn’t under the Imperius then maybe
the Ministry will do us all a favour and throw his bum in Azkaban.”

“That would be nice,” said Harry. “It turns out that your prediction did come true. I thought at
first it just described Professor Figg giving birth, but it covered Sirius, Pettigrew and Fudge.
You’re going to be an amazing prophet.”

“Thanks,” said Ron beginning to blush.

Harry remembered something, “Oh and you’ll never believe this, but Snape actually complimented
Hermione for her legal defence.”

Ron shook his head muttering, “And I missed it.”

“I think he was very grateful that he didn’t have to testify,” said Harry. “There’s no telling
what he might have said under Veritaserum and since he’s a former Death Eater, I’m sure he’s got
some *stories* to tell.”

“That’s very true,” Hermione nodded. “Oh and Sirius and Professor Figg are getting married.”

Ron threw up his hands, “That figures. What else happened today?”

Harry and Hermione shared a look with one another and Ron started blushing furiously. Hermione
then shifted in her seat.

“Speaking of O.W.L.s, I think we should be go to bed. We need some sleep,” said Hermione as she
stood.

“Yeah, we should probably turn in,” Harry said as he stood. “Sorry I pushed you yesterday,
mate.”

“That’s okay,” Ron said. “I understand now why you were in such a hurry and why you couldn’t
tell me anything.”

They walked to the foot of the stairway and then Hermione turned and gave Harry a full kiss on
the mouth. “Goodnight.”

He watched her as she climbed the stairs with his heart feeling as light as a feather.
“Goodnight,” he said breathlessly.

“You sure had a full day,” said Ron.

“Yeah, it started out that I was standing trial and could have been sentenced to a life term in
Azkaban. We wound up clearing my godfather’s name who had been wrongly imprisoned for a crime he
didn’t commit, the Minister of Magic was exposed and arrested for being corrupt, I helped to get
three Death Eaters and two spies arrested, there’s going to be a full internal investigation at the
Ministry of Magic, I’m going to be the best man at Sirius’s wedding and I fell in love with my best
friend. All in all, it’s been a good day,” said Harry as he was climbing the steps with a smile
that ran from ear to ear.

Harry didn’t care what Ron thought of him and Hermione being together. Ron would have to learn
how to deal with it. Harry knew that he probably wasn’t being fair with him, after all it had only
been two weeks since he had psychically willed Ron and Hermione apart. Right now Harry didn’t care
about fairness. He was in love and when he thought of Hermione’s kisses, his entire body felt
incredibly warm. He knew what he’d be dreaming of tonight.

***

End notes. Sorry that I kept you hanging for so long, but I had a trip out of town and couldn’t
get this chapter up any earlier.

I’d like to thank the following people for reviewing my work: Batgirl, AnimeFanatic, Aradia
Ring, Brandie, catark, chrissy, darkstar, Dream, Georgiana, Heaven, Jonesy, katrina, kinicky 21,
Kristin, Krystyna, Liedral, Michelle, NAPPA, Nicole, nienie, NIGHTSTALKER, Old Wolf, SamanthaMarie,
SilverDagger, Snake, and Tristan.

There had been some comments about how people were surprised that Harry either ate or killed
Pettigrew. Now you know why I he seemed a bit “cold” about it. I had to do something to distract
you from the clue I had placed much earlier about Cronos regurgitating his 5 children. So,
hopefully it worked for most of you.

I also can explain a little further of why I chose Harry’s Animagus form. I had read one fanfic
where Harry got to choose his Animagus form from any kind of animal. I knew that went against JKR’s
thinking on that matter from the chat transcript I mentioned before. I also thought about how
Pettigrew could talk with rats and Sirius with Crookshanks, so I thought with Harry’s being able to
speak Parseltongue that he would be a snake if he could transform into an animal. Then I considered
how that could be useful plotwise and I immediately thought of snakes swallowing rats and then it
all fell into place with the story of Cronos. So there ya go.

I’m so glad that everyone seemed to like my courtroom scene in chapter 15. It truly was one part
of this story that I absolutely loved writing. I wrote the majority of it prior to writing other
parts of the story. It surprised me how easy it was to twist everything that Harry had done to make
it seem evil, dark and ominous. Once I started down that path I couldn’t stop. And then, I knew
that Hermione would be the only one who could defend Harry, et. al., but if she and Harry had
gotten together earlier, no judge would have let it happen. That’s why I kept them apart for so
long. Well, that and building up the anticipation in the reader.

Batgirl realized that this was all just an elaborate trap for Harry what with the Ministry
employees capturing Sirius. You betcha, it was far more incriminating for him to attack Ministry
employees than it would have been for him to do so against Avery, Crabbe, Sr., Goyle, Sr., etc. As
for Percy? You’ll see more of him in the next chapter.

I am so glad that so many of you (Aradia Ring, Batgirl, SamanthaMarie and NIGHTSTALKER)
recognized that Rebecca Nurse and Cotton Mather (Mathews in my story) were actual historical
figures from the Salem Witch Trials. Rebecca Nurse was a midwife and when casting about for a name
for Arabella’s midwife I thought – if JKR can write Nicholas Flamel into her story, I can put
Rebecca Nurse into mine. Well, not the same one because after all the historical figure was
executed for the crime of being a witch, but she was exonerated posthumously! Isn’t that nice?
NIGHTSTALKER does take the prize for having the most detailed explanation of those historical
figures and even brought in Nathaniel Hawthorne. Kudos!

The famous playwright Anton Chekhov once wrote "one must not put a loaded rifle on the
stage if no one is thinking of firing it." With that in mind, I introduced a certain prop back
in Chapter Four that has not been used yet. I do like to take colourful risks with my writing. So
never fear, I wouldn’t introduce that kind of prop unless I was willing to have it be used. This of
course will give a slightly different meaning to the phrase ‘climax of a story.’ So to reward you
folks for waiting and also for coming up with the Salem Witch trial trivia, the cyber brownie
points I promised will be in the form of some extra lines in the final chapter. Lines that I had
originally written for a the love scene that were cut due to advice from one of my betas. Nothing
crude, just a few more lines that are designed to drive the readers wild. So there is some
difference between the story here and the one on Schnoogle.

No more cliffhangers, but I do have a few more surprises up my sleeve.

Stay tuned.



17. The Most Powerful Magic of All
----------------------------------

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

Rating: R – for adult themes and sexual intimacy

Chapter Seventeen – The Most Powerful Magic of All

The next morning, Harry was attacked while he was still in bed by Dean, Seamus and Neville when
they realized that he was back. They bombarded him with questions until he gave them an abbreviated
version of the trial and the scandal regarding former Minister Fudge. He and Hermione had to retell
that story dozens of times before the morning editions of *The Daily Prophet* arrived by owl
post. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that the coverage of the trial and the removal of Fudge
as Minister of Magic seemed truthful, straightforward and balanced. He was also happy to see a full
exoneration of Sirius Black have prominent coverage on the front page.

Harry looked up and saw Sirius and Professor Figg enter the Great Hall followed by an elderly
wizarding couple carrying Soraya. The witch had long silver hair and was cooing over the small
baby, while the wizard had long salt and pepper hair and looked like an elderly version of Sirius.
Harry had no doubt that they had to be his godfather’s parents. He smiled as he saw the happy
family sit down at the head table. Sirius saw him and motioned for Harry and Hermione to join
them.

“Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet Harry Potter and Hermione Granger,” Sirius said introducing
them. “Harry, Hermione, these are my parents Kathleen and Galileo Black.”

Kathleen gave both Harry and Hermione a kiss on the cheek, “I want to thank both of you for not
only believing in my son, but for working so hard to restore his good name. I can’t tell you how
much this means to his father and me. We had been hoping for years that there had been some mistake
made and that Sirius was innocent. Now we know that it wasn’t a mistake, it was a conspiracy
against him. We cannot thank you two enough for what you have done for our family and also for the
Wizarding World.”

Galileo put his left arm around his wife and shook Harry’s hand with the other, “You are a fine
young man. I’m glad to finally meet you.” He looked at Hermione and gave her a warm smile, “And
Miss Granger, you have a great future ahead of you. I have never heard of anyone shaking the
Ministry of Magic to its foundations the way that you have in one afternoon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Black,” she replied blushing.

“I spoke with Remus last night when I got back,” Sirius said to Harry. “There wasn’t much damage
to the Zone. He thinks that the Lestranges were sent there to repeat their attack as a way to draw
me out of the grounds here once Pettigrew’s trap was set. I don’t think it’ll take me very long to
repair any charms they broke. I’ll be heading back there in a little while, but I want to spend
some time with my folks first. I haven’t seen them in fifteen years. I never wrote to them while I
was on the run, because I knew they’d be watched by the Ministry and didn’t want to endanger them.
But now, I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. I cannot thank you
and Hermione enough.”

Harry and Hermione chatted with them for a little while and then excused themselves to return to
the Gryffindor table for breakfast. The buzz in the room had become quite audible as the students
were all discussing the events detailed in the morning’s paper and the fact that the infamous
Sirius Black was sitting up at the head table next to Professor Figg with a newborn baby.

The next three days were spent taking the O.W.L.s and Harry felt exhausted when they were
through. The exams were comprehensive for the entire five years of instruction they had completed.
They were not only tested on their academic knowledge, but they had to perform practical
demonstrations of their skills. He preferred the practical portions as he had no trouble with the
transfigurations or charms, but once again he felt uninspired by the trivial information that he
was expected to remember and regurgitate especially in subjects such as the History of Magic.

On Friday when they had their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Harry was somewhat surprised
to see that Professor Figg was still teaching. He had wondered how she was going to handle being a
new mother and a teacher at the same time. Halfway through the class while they were busy
transcribing answers to an essay question, Kathleen Black entered the room with Soraya. She handed
the baby to Professor Figg who discreetly covered her chest with a blanket as she breastfed the
child in class. Harry stole a glance at Ron’s direction to see that he was blushing. Harry laughed
inwardly when he thought about Ron’s finding breastfeeding sexually attractive. Then he found his
own mind wandering to a few nights before when Hermione sat on his lap and unbuttoned her blouse
for him. Harry shook his head and willed himself to concentrate at the task at hand or he’d never
finish his exam.

Harry was relieved when he received a letter later that day at dinnertime from the school’s
Board of Governors saying that they were dismissing the complaint against him. They felt that his
written testimony and rebuttals were convincing enough especially when they considered the
revelations from the trial. All evidence pointed to him having used magic to protect the mourners
and that he was not the cause of the disturbance as had been suggested. They also recognized that
the private tutorials that had been given to him the previous summer had probably helped to save
his life. Since it was now recognized that Voldemort had returned and that there was a strong
likelihood that Harry’s life was still endangered by Dark Wizards, the Board gave him their special
permission to perform magic during the summer holidays. They did however make the stipulation that
he could not perform any spells in the presence of Muggles.

“So I can’t hex Dudley,” Harry shrugged.

“Are you going to move in with Sirius and Professor Figg?” Ron asked.

“No, their house isn’t big enough,” Harry replied. “They only have two bedrooms and one is
filled with surveillance equipment. I’m sure Soraya will be sleeping in their room, but there
really isn’t any place for me. Doesn’t matter though, I’ll be spending my days with them and only
crashing at night at the Dursleys. I’m sure I’ll sleep better through the nights listening to
Dudley and Uncle Vernon snore than I would hearing a newborn cry.”

Ron nodded at that.

Neville came rushing over to the dining table and was grinning from ear to ear.

“Harry did you hear that Malfoy isn’t coming back?” Neville said. “I just overheard someone say
that the investigation with him is still ongoing. They think he may have been involved in some
Death Eater activity other than just keeping his father informed of things going on in school. I
also heard his father is now under scrutiny as well as having worked for You-Know-Who. The Ministry
is taking their time with investigations these days and doesn’t want to rush anything. Anyway, it
doesn’t look like Draco will be returning at all this year.”

Harry thought of Draco’s grandmother being forced to leave school after her fifth year.

“Hmm, maybe he’ll be a Hogwarts drop-out,” Harry said with relish. “I bet he wouldn’t be the
first in his family not to finish here.”

Neville started laughing so hard he shot pumpkin juice out of his nose.

Hermione looked suspiciously at the two of them. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“It’s a private joke,” Neville answered smiling and wiping his nose. “Oh that stuff burns.”

*

Harry found that his thoughts were now totally preoccupied with Hermione. She was concerned
about being a prefect and the rules against any public displays of affection. So while they weren’t
trying to actively keep their new relationship a secret, it seemed to work out that way. She wanted
to keep their interactions discreet, but she still found ways to drive him crazy. She normally sat
next to him at mealtimes, but now she sat just a little closer to him. Sometimes she wouldn’t ask
for food to be passed to her and instead would simply reach over to get the dish causing her thigh
to brush up against his leg. This would send shockwaves throughout Harry’s body.

It also seemed that the common room was never empty. Students had been staying up until all
hours of the night cramming for exams and there was always at least one student there at all times.
After exam week was over, there were still students hanging around the common room. Now they were
playing games, partying and telling jokes until the wee hours of the night.

Harry and Hermione had been able to sneak a few stolen kisses in the stairwells, but Harry
longed for uninterrupted time alone with her. He finally came to realize what he had wanted, but
had to wait to talk with her privately about it. A few hours before the leaving feast was set to
begin, he suggested that they walk down to Hagrid’s hut and pay their large friend a visit.

“Hagrid, I need to talk with Hermione about something,” Harry said quietly. “I don’t want there
to be any chance that anyone could overhear us. So could you go somewhere for a couple
minutes?”

Hagrid looked over at Hermione and smiled. “Sure Harry. I was wondrin’, could I borrow yer
broomstick? There’s somethin’ I need ta get fer Sirius.”

“Umm, sure. I’ll bring it to you,” said Harry sounding perplexed.

“Fang! Come ‘ere. It’s time fer a lil’ walk. ‘Scuse me, Hermione but I don’ want Fang to mess up
me house. I’ll be back in a few,” said Hagrid as he hurriedly took the big boarhound outside.

Hermione gave Harry a great smile as she launched herself at him. She slammed him against the
wall between the windows. They started to kiss passionately and he could feel their kiss deepening
very quickly. Harry broke the kiss before he lost all of his ability to concentrate.

“Hermione, I need to talk with you about something. I want to show you how much I love you,” he
paused, took her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “I’d like to make love with
you.”

Hermione swallowed hard, but didn’t break her gaze with Harry.

“I know this is sudden and I’ll completely understand if you’re not ready or would feel
uncomfortable. If I were a normal guy, I don’t think I’d consider bringing this subject up right
now. It’s just after we first admitted our feelings toward one another, but I’m not a normal guy.
I’ve felt for the last year that I’m living on borrowed time. I know that I’ll have to face
Voldemort again and I don’t know how long my luck will hold out. I’m worried about your safety as
well. I feel like I want to make love with you this soon, because I just don’t know how long we’ll
have to live.”

Hermione closed her eyes and fought back tears. Harry took her in his arms and stroked her
hair.

“I’m sorry about this. I don’t want to pressure you into anything,” he whispered in her ear.
“Tomorrow night after the wedding reception, you’ll be alone in your dorm room. I’ll have Ron and
Neville sleeping in mine. If you want, I can wait until they’re fast asleep and then sneak out
using my Invisibility Cloak and come visit you. We can spend a few hours together and then I’ll go
back to my dorm room. I just want to have a little privacy with you and not worry about being
interrupted. If all we do is finish that snogging session that we started in the common room,
that’ll be fine with me. I’m not sure what all would have happened between us if Ron hadn’t woken
up that night, but I know that I was enjoying myself.”

Hermione smiled.

“So was I and I can’t help but relive that night in my dreams and daydreams,” she said with a
husky voice. “Only in my dreams, we didn’t stop there.”

“So, can I come and visit you tomorrow night?” he asked hopefully. “I’ll let you decide what you
feel comfortable with and I will bring protection, just in case. Because the last thing I want is
for you to get pregnant.”

Hermione blew in his ear and then started to kiss his neck driving him wild.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said as his hands roamed over her backside.

*

The leaving feast was once again a celebration of Gryffindor’s win of the House Cup. This had
been safely secured when Dumbledore publicly made an announcement at dinner the night after he
returned from the Ministry of Magic. He congratulated Harry for saving Sirius Black’s life and to
Hermione for defending the honour of five innocent parties and exposing corruption within the
Ministry. Harry was awarded 200 points for his efforts, while Hermione was awarded 300 points. This
was enough to safely secure the House Cup to be awarded to Gryffindor again with a new record of
848 points.

Harry couldn’t help but reflect on the leaving feast that had taken place just one year ago.
That had been a somber occasion and one that left everyone feeling very apprehensive. Similarly,
the welcoming feast in September had been one where Harry was looked at with great suspicion. Now
this feast had a festive atmosphere to it and any fears about Harry Potter being a Dark Wizard in
training seemed comical in retrospect.

Harry looked up from his heaping plate of food and saw Cho giving him a friendly wave. She was
holding hands with a good looking black haired guy from her house. Harry returned her smile as he
realized that Cho hadn’t been trying to blow him off after all. He also thought she probably sensed
that he and Hermione were now “more than just friends.”

*

The next day Harry and Sirius were getting dressed in their black wizarding tuxedos. Harry had
pulled back his long hair into a ponytail and had a black ribbon holding it in place. Sirius was
affixing a yellow rose boutonnière to Harry’s lapel and helping with his bowtie. Harry felt a
little nervous. He knew that he needed to broach a sensitive topic with his godfather, but felt
unsure of how to start.

“Harry, I wanted to tell you that Arabella wants you to stop calling her Professor Figg. She is
no longer your instructor and would like for you to call her Arabella.”

“Okay.”

“I wish we could have you move in with us, but there’s just not enough room in that small house.
It took her years to put all those charms and enchantments in that neighbourhood and it just
wouldn’t be as safe to try and move so we could all live together.”

“I understand,” said Harry.

“Yeah, we’ll have you come over everyday just like last summer. Except now, ‘Old Mrs. Figg’ has
decided to stay in Scotland and live in her late sister’s house and has sold the house in Little
Whinging to her ‘nephew’ and his wife.”

“Are you going to continue to use aging potion?” asked Harry.

“Nah, I only needed that to disguise myself from the Wizarding World. Now that I’m no longer a
fugitive, I don’t feel like bothering with that. I shaved off my moustache for the same reason. I
feel better looking like my old self again. If any of the neighbours ask, I’ll tell them that I had
a facelift and dyed my hair. Makes me look twenty years younger and don’t I look smashing!”

“Your teeth…they don’t look as yellow as they used to,” Harry observed.

“Yeah, I used some Muggle teeth bleachers. I just couldn’t stand looking in the mirror and
seeing how stained they became over years of being in prison with no dental care.”

“Umm, Sirius,” Harry began nervously. “Do you remember when you told me to come to you before
doing anything?”

“Yesss,” Sirius looked at him and raised one eyebrow. “Are you planning on…?”

“Uh, huh. Tonight,” Harry blushed.

“Do you still have the ah…?”

Harry nodded quickly. “I haven’t used them yet. You told me that I couldn’t do anything
spontaneous and that I should tell you before…”

“Good. Okay,” Sirius took a deep breath. “First of all, are you sure you two want to do this so
soon? You and Hermione have only been a couple for about three weeks. Once you become intimate, it
changes everything in a relationship.”

“It’s all I can think about.”

“Yes, well,” Sirius flashed him a smile with a knowing look to it, “that feeling doesn’t change
after you’ve done it for the first time. It will still be all that you can think about. Especially
at your age.”

Harry gave him a pleading look, “Sirius, you don’t understand. I’m afraid that one of us is
going to die soon and I don’t want to have either one of us regret we never got the chance to…”

“Well, I suppose that line might actually work for you.”

“It’s not a line,” Harry said irritated. “It’s how I feel.”

“I know,” Sirius sighed. “You *are* marked for death. So am I. It doesn’t help matters that
in a mere twenty-four hours time, Voldemort went from thinking he’d kill both of us to losing six
of his followers to Azkaban. I’m sure his over inflated ego is still smarting from that, especially
with the loss of Fudge, which has led to the mass purging of his followers and spies at the
Ministry. But, Harry getting back to the subject at hand, you might just want to start with heavy
petting. That generally helps girls in the transition to becoming sexually active.”

“Sirius, when did my parents do it for the first time?”

“Well…umm…” Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably. “James and Lily didn’t really kiss until
about your age. They had been a couple, but…”
“And?…They’re dead, Sirius. I don’t know why you feel like you have to hide anything about
them.”

“I know, it’s just a tad uncomfortable talking about them in this way. I don’t think they became
lovers until our seventh year, so your mother would have been in her sixth year.”

“And Hermione and I have known each other since the first day. It’s not like I just met her,”
Harry said defensively.

“Yeah, well before you do anything there’s a few things you need to know. Girls don’t have the
same level of sex drive that guys do. Especially at your age. It takes them a lot longer to become
aroused. I’m sure you’ve discovered that it doesn’t take much to get excited. Heck, I remember one
time seeing Professor Flitwick’s robe fly up with a slight breeze and for some reason…”

Harry snickered.

“Not that I *ever* found Flitwick exciting mind you,” Sirius continued. “What I’m trying to
say is that girls don’t respond the same way as guys. They don’t respond to visual stimuli the way
guys do. They respond more to mental stimulation and Harry, the human brain is the most powerful
sex organ. Far more powerful than anything between your legs. And if a woman doesn’t allow herself
to enjoy sex, she can allow things to physically happen to her body – but not truly respond.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry sounding confused.

“Women are far more powerful sexual beings than men. Women have an organ whose *sole
function* is for sexual pleasure. We have an organ that carries sperm and urine. It’s just not
equivalent. Women can have multiple orgasms and are incredible sexual beings – but only if they
allow themselves to experience that power. Many women are simply afraid of that power. So for some
reason even if all their organs are functioning properly – some women will not allow themselves to
experience ecstasy. There are some women who have had numerous children and have never had an
orgasm because they haven’t allowed themselves to fully experience pleasure.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Harry asked with his eyes wide with fear.

“Well, first of all,” Sirius said calmly. “You need to be paying attention to the cues that
Hermione’s body will be giving you more than the cues from your own body. And it’s more important
to pay attention to what her body is saying more than what her lips say. She might say ‘yes’ but if
she stiffens up and seems rigid – stop what you are doing. That’s because her body is sensing
something wrong. There are many, many people that have suffered sexual abuse as a child. I wish
that it never happened to anyone, but you must be aware that there are many walking wounded out
there. Anyone who has been sexually abused will have a difficult time when they are touched
intimately, because it may trigger painful memories.”

“Okay, so let’s hope she’s never been harmed in that way…”

“Then you still need to make sure she’s ready. Many girls are pressured into having sex before
they are ready because their boyfriends want them to. Hermione’s a very special lady. I don’t want
you to do anything that might risk your relationship with her. The last thing you want to do is
make her resent you by putting too much pressure on her.”

“I know all that.”

“Good. Just to repeat the point. If she’s not ready or if she tells you to stop, you can always
take care of your needs by yourself. Don’t do anything she’s not willing to do.”

Sirius reached into the deep pocket of his wizarding tuxedo and pulled out a small bottle of
oil. “Here Harry, take this. It’s some massage oil. I had planned to use it tonight, just to give
Arabella a little pleasure. It’s still too soon after her giving birth for us to make love.”

Harry waved his hands in the air.

“I know, I know, too much information. That’s fine. I won’t tell you any more about our sex
life. Anyway, I think you could use it more than me. This will help Hermione to relax and even if
you two don’t go all the way…she’ll probably let you touch her in some places that you’ve only
dreamed of. There’s also some techniques I’m going to tell you that you might find helpful.”

Sirius began telling things to Harry that made him blush furiously, but he was grateful that his
godfather was taking the time to talk frankly with him. He felt really nervous and wasn’t sure what
he was supposed to do.

As they finished up that discussion, Remus Lupin walked in the room. He was wearing what
appeared to be his best robes, they were still a little tattered but much nicer than the everyday
robes he had worn while teaching.

“Harry? Oh my, you have grown so much in the last two years. You look great,” said Lupin
smiling.

“I haven’t gotten much taller,” he protested.

“Maybe not, but your face has matured and you look so much like James did when we were at
school. How are you?”

“Great. This has got to be one of the best days of my life,” answered Harry.

“It’s a day I never thought I’d live to see,” joked Lupin as he elbowed Sirius in the ribs. “I
didn’t think there was a woman alive that could tame this wild dog.”

“Moony, old boy – I’m glad you’re here with me,” said Sirius clapping him on the back.

“I couldn’t miss seeing Padfoot tie the knot. I just wish you didn’t have to do this on a day
like today,” Lupin said wistfully. “I’ll have to leave early and miss out on all the fun.”

Harry understood. Tonight was going to be a full moon.

“Sorry about that, but Dumbledore thought it would be best to do this today. At least you can
see me get married, have some dinner and maybe stay for a dance or two before you head to the
Shrieking Shack.”

“Who’s watching the Zone?” Harry asked.

“Fletcher. Snape is going to be there with him during the wedding, but McGonagall’s going to
replace him during the reception. They’ll be staying together there until Arabella and I arrive
back home tomorrow.” Then Sirius leaned towards Harry, “Arabella’s hoping that they’ll hit it off
with each other.”

“McGonagall and Fletcher?” Lupin said amusedly. “They’d make an odd couple.”

“Maybe so, but they’re both lonely,” Sirius added. “Arabella hates to see people lonely for that
long. She, umm, even suggested that her aunt give Fletcher a haircut.”

“A haircut?” asked Harry. “What good would that do?”

“Oh it’s been known to bring people together before,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asked perplexed.

“Don’t ask. You *don’t* want to know,” Sirius said.

“Did you say once that Arabella’s parents had died?” Harry asked changing the subject.

Sirius nodded.

“So is your father walking Arabella down the aisle?”

Sirius shook his head quickly, “Uh, no. You just touched on a subject that Arabella has very
intense feelings about. She’s never liked the idea of a man ‘giving away’ a woman to another man.
She said it reminds her of batons being passed as if women were simple possessions. No, she freely
gave her love to me and she will walk *herself* down the aisle.”

“Oh, I never thought of it that way,” Harry said sounding embarrassed.

“I hadn’t either until she said something. In fact in her first wedding she had both of her
parents walk her down the aisle and her husband had the same thing done. It was more like the
joining of families which she preferred symbolically than the old bridal give-away imagery that she
hates so much.”

Harry then thought of something which made him start laughing and he shook his head slightly,
“I’ve got to tell you guys this. Ron told me last year that he thought you two were a couple.”

Sirius gave Harry a look of shocked amusement, then he and Lupin looked at each other and burst
out laughing.

“What ever made him think that?” asked Sirius.

“Uh, I think it was when you two hugged in the Shrieking Shack,” Harry answered sheepishly.

Sirius looked at Lupin up and down. “Sorry, but I like my lovers to have a little less hair on
their chests. And definitely less hair on their backs!”

“Padfoot’s not my type either,” Lupin said with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, by seventh year Moony looked like he was a walking mass of fur – even when there wasn’t a
full moon,” laughed Sirius.

“*Shut* *up*, Padfoot,” Lupin said laughing and looking fondly at his friend.

Sirius embraced him in a big bear hug, which turned into a mini-wrestling match.

“I missed you so much,” Lupin said as they broke the embrace.

“Me too, Moony,” Sirius said. “See Harry, real men can hug and still like women.”

“I told him that he was wrong,” Harry offered, “but that was before I knew about you and
Arabella.”

Sirius looked at his watch and patted Harry on the back, “Come on, it’s time to go.”

“Sirius, I didn’t have a chance to get you any gift,” Harry said sounding disappointed.

“Harry, you saved my life and you came up with a plan to exonerate me. I don’t think there’s any
greater gift you could give me. I certainly don’t need something from you with a bow on it,” Sirius
said.

“Well, how about something for Soraya?”

“Okay, we’ll go shopping later this week,” Sirius relented. “Hey Moony, make yourself useful. We
have guests that need to be ushered to their seats.”

“Sure thing, Padfoot. Come on, Harry let’s go,” said Lupin.

They walked outside into the bright sunshine and into the topiary gardens. There were rows of
white wooden folding chairs set up with a long white satin walkway in between them. A makeshift
altar was set up in front of a water fountain.

The guests were milling around in the rose gardens. Harry noticed that the house-elves were all
wearing the same outfit. They had white button down shirts, short navy blue pants, red knobby
socks, black shoes and wore the same styled red beret that he had seen in Dobby’s room. It looked
like they were wearing uniforms. It was hard to tell the females from the males, but upon closer
inspection he saw that the females wore red bows around their necks while the males had red
ties.

“Umm, Harry, you’re looking sharp,” Ron sniffed as he came up to his friend.

“Er, thanks,” said Harry blinking as he looked at Ron’s dark green robe. “Your dress robe looks
better than the one you wore last year.”

“Anything would be better than that,” Ron said as he rolled his eyes. “Hey, what’s up with the
elves? They almost look like militants.”

“You never know what they’re up to,” Harry said cryptically. “We need to come up with new
signals.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been trying to think of something subtle, but better than sniffing,” Ron
then pulled on Harry’s arm. “Who’s that with Filch?”

“Must be his date.”

“I never thought I’d see Filch with a date. Hmm, she looks a little familiar to me. I just can’t
place her,” Ron said.

Harry was still bound by Dumbledore to keep the life story of Mrs. Norris a secret, so he hoped
Ron wouldn’t recognize the family resemblance with Narcissa Malfoy. He supposed that since the
student body had left the school that Mrs. Norris thought it was safe to show her face at the
wedding. Besides, he figured that Arabella probably insisted that the elderly witch share in the
joyous occasion and thought that since the staff was trusted by Dumbledore and that they were
therefore trustworthy with the woman’s secret whereabouts.

Harry walked up to Mrs. Norris and offered his arm to walk her to be seated. She looked much
more at peace with herself than the day she revealed her secrets. Filch even looked different. He
had a contented smile on his face and his disposition no longer seemed cruel and bitter.

Lupin was busy walking different faculty members down the aisle. He took both Professors
McGonagall and Sprout down at the same time. Later he took Professors Vector, Sinistra, Trelawney
and Madam Pince. They seemed to be waiting in queue for Lupin and didn’t want a mere student as
their escort.

Harry noticed that there was a crowd of people that had gathered in front of Neville’s parents.
Frank and Claire Longbottom looked much better than they had when they arrived at Hogwarts. They
were still using wheelchairs because their muscles hadn’t fully recovered. They could walk for
short distances, but still needed assistance. Harry had met them briefly a few weeks earlier when
Neville wanted his parents to meet him. They had been very polite and kind and spoke highly of
James and Lily Potter. Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody was standing near the Longbottoms and seemed almost
jovial.

Mr. Weasley walked into the garden and was visibly surprised to see Neville’s parents.

“By Merlin’s beard, I don’t believe it! Frank. Claire. Wh-what happened?” he stammered.

“Arthur, it’s good to see you again,” Mr. Longbottom said extending his hand.

“It’s good to see you too,” Mr. Weasley said shaking his hand, “but…what happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Mr. Longbottom sighed, “and one that we will have to tell you. It would be
better for us to do that officially though, in your office later this week.”

“Sure, I’ll be looking forward to that,” Mr. Weasley said. “I’ve taken tomorrow off to see the
kids home safely, but I will be in the office the rest of the week. Heck since Fudge’s dismissal,
I’ve wound up staying at the office for at least twelve hours a day. The investigation just gets
bigger every day. The Ministry truly was a viper’s nest of corruption. Today is the first day I’ve
taken off since the scandal broke.”

“I feel at ease knowing that you’re our new Minister of Magic,” said Mr. Longbottom.

“Now Frank, I’m just the acting Minister until the inquiry is complete. Then we’ll have to
schedule an election.”

“But you’ll be running for the position, won’t you?” asked Mr. Longbottom.

Mr. Weasley smiled and winked at him.

Dumbledore came up behind Neville. The Headmaster was wearing a midnight blue cloak decorated
with embroidered golden stars. He put his hand on Neville’s shoulder and said softly, “As soon as
your parents make their statement to the Ministry, we’ll start planning that long overdue funeral
service. I also think that your parents might be ready to go back to your home in the next week or
so.”

Neville nodded and then he and Harry helped move the Longbottoms into a prime viewing area on
the bride’s side of the gallery. Madam Pomfrey sat near them. Harry returned to the staging area
and helped to show Percy and Penny to their seats. As he walked back he saw Ginny waiting anxiously
for him. She was wearing a terra cotta coloured dress and copper coloured lipstick, which
complimented her complexion. She squeezed his arm as he was walking her down the aisle to her
seat.

“I never got a chance to dance with you at the Yule Ball. I thought maybe we could have at least
one dance tonight,” she said with hope in her voice.

“Sure, Ginny. Come and find me,” he said. He hoped that Ginny wouldn’t be too disappointed when
she found out about his relationship with Hermione.

Soon the rest of the guests were seated. Kathleen and Galileo Black were the last ones to go
down the aisle carrying Soraya. They were seated in the very front row beaming at their handsome
son the groom.

As Harry and Sirius stood at the front of the altar, Dumbledore cast a spell on a large golden
harp. Soft, beautiful notes began to play and Hermione began walking down the aisle. Harry’s heart
melted as soon as he saw her. He had never seen her look quite so beautiful and mature. She was
wearing a white satin tea length dress with a scoop neckline, a large purple sash at her waist and
carried a bouquet of yellow roses that had purple, green and white ribbons fluttering in the
breeze. Her hair had been plaited into a French braid with baby’s breath adorning it. His heart
skipped a beat as she gave him a warm smile as she passed by him. He had to shake his head and
remind himself that she wasn’t the bride. He looked up at Sirius and saw his godfather draw himself
up in anxious anticipation of his bride’s entrance.

The audience turned and stood as Arabella made her appearance under the arched trellis that was
draped with roses in full bloom. She was wearing a floor length ivory gown made of satin with an
empire waist and a scoop neckline. Her bodice was encrusted with pearls and she carried a large
bouquet of white roses. Her long hair was braided and she had a headpiece covered in pearls. She
had a radiance about her that was palpable. Sirius looked at her with such love in his eyes that
they began to water. Dumbledore smiled warmly as the bride took her place next to the groom.

“It is with great pleasure that I stand before you today to join together Sirius Black and
Arabella Figg in marriage,” Dumbledore announced. “Love is the most powerful magic of all. Their
love was forged out of tragedy and has spanned many years of separation and isolation. Yet it
endured and it now flourishes. This is a love that has transformed them into being better people
and now proud parents.

“Life is a series of obstacles and the test of one’s character is how you respond to those
obstacles. Some people declare defeat and refuse to respond to a challenge. Others willingly meet
every obstacle head on. But finding happiness and love is also a challenge and one that
demonstrates your true mettle. To find happiness and love regardless of your station in life and
the handicaps that have befallen you can sometimes be the greatest challenge of all. One must seek
out happiness in whatever they are doing and to try whenever possible to lighten the load of others
along the way of Life’s journey. And that is the Meaning of Life.

“Sirius Black do you freely enter into the contract of marriage with Arabella Figg?”

“I do.”

“And do you Arabella Figg freely enter into the contract of marriage with Sirius Black?” asked
Dumbledore.

“I do.”

“Do you have the rings?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry handed two rings to Sirius. The groom took his bride’s left hand in his and placed a large
ruby solitaire on it and followed it with a gold band with Celtic knots engraved on them.

Sirius looked her in the eye and said solemnly, “Arabella, I promise to love you, to care for
you and to be faithful to you for all the days of my life.”

Hermione handed a ring to Arabella. The bride placed the matching gold band with engraved Celtic
knots on the groom’s left hand.

“Sirius, I promise to love you, to care for you and to be faithful to you for all the days of my
life,” she said gazing lovingly at him.

“In the name of Merlin and all that is holy, I consecrate and bless this union,” Dumbledore said
and waved his arm. A broomstick flew through the air and landed before the bridal couple’s feet.
“Once you jump over the broomstick you will be married.”

Sirius and Arabella squeezed each other’s hand and made a small jump over the ceremonial
broomstick. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a long and passionate kiss. Professor
McGonagall blew her nose loudly as the audience applauded politely to the married couple.

Dumbledore waved his arm and a cage full of white doves was magically opened allowing them to
fly into the sky. Harry then noticed that the headmaster’s terrarium was placed on the ground next
to the doves’ cage. The glass that covered the terrarium disappeared and various bugs flew out. One
large black beetle seemed to shoot out of the glass container like it was a rocket. Harry
suppressed a laugh realizing that Rita Skeeter was now free. Her knowledge of Sirius being in
Dumbledore’s camp could no longer harm anyone. He hoped that her prolonged period of
‘inconvenience’ might prove to be a learning experience to her about the dangers of misrepresenting
oneself.

Sirius and Arabella walked arm in arm down the aisle with smiles that would light up a city.
Harry offered his arm to Hermione and they followed down the aisle at a much slower pace. They
stood near the rose covered trellis and formed the receiving line and greeted all the guests. It
felt strange for Harry to see all of the faculty members in a different setting. It was still
school and all, but this seemed different somehow.

Shortly afterward they had the formal wedding photos taken. Harry was very careful to keep his
head forward and looking at the camera. He had learned a painful lesson about wizarding photographs
and didn’t want any repeat embarrassments especially under these happy circumstances. After that
was done the wedding party sat down at the head table where the dinner had just been served. It was
an elegant serving of beef tenderloin medallions with a port reduction sauce, garlic mashed
potatoes and steamed baby vegetables.

A waiter came around and poured sparkling wine into their champagne flutes. Harry was surprised
to see that he was served, but quickly grabbed his glass. He found that it tickled his nose and was
surprised with the fizzy taste on his tongue.

Lupin walked behind Sirius and Arabella and lifted his wine glass, “I know that traditionally
this role goes to the best man, but I simply must say a few words before I have to leave. I’ve
known Sirius since we were both eleven years old. There isn’t anyone I can think of that has been
more like a brother to me than he has. I’ve also known Arabella for close to twenty years. And I
would never have thought of putting those two together as a couple. That’s because she was always
careful, meticulous and thoughtful. Sirius, on the other hand was a brash, leap-before-you-look
kind of guy. I didn’t think that he’d ever settle down. And now with the benefit of a few more
years under our collective belts they have come together and complement each other beautifully.
Arabella has tamed the mad dog and now he’s even a *devoted father*. That’s something I simply
never thought I’d live to see. Here’s to Sirius and Arabella. May your love grow stronger and last
for a long, long time.”

He lifted his glass and everyone followed suit. Sirius smiled and punched Lupin on the
shoulder.

“Thanks Moony, I love ya pal!”

“Same here Padfoot. And now, I think I’d better be off before I spoil things,” Lupin said and
turned to the bride. “Arabella, congratulations and I wish you the best of luck with this guy.”

“Thank you, Remus,” she said as she gave him a warm kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you could share
this day with us. Now please hurry.”

Lupin gave her a kiss and smiled at her with a look of adoration in his eyes. “You are an
incredible woman. Sirius is a very lucky dog.”

“Off with you!” Sirius barked as he smacked him on the back.

“Harry, I hope to see you soon,” Lupin said as he took his leave.

Sirius leaned over to Harry and said in an undertone, “You can only have one glass of champagne.
Same goes for Hermione. I don’t want either one of you to be under any influence of alcohol when
you are together later tonight. Got that?”

Harry nodded and looked over at Hermione. Sirius was right, alcohol could lead to disastrous
consequences if they tried to get intimate and were drunk. They would need to have their wits about
them, especially with this being their first time.

After dinner concluded, the Weird Sisters set up their instruments on one corner of the dance
floor. They were warming up and Harry felt a familiar uneasiness in his stomach. Dancing. He shook
his head. He never warmed to the idea of dancing. It was something he would rather never do.

The first dance was reserved for the bride and groom. They danced slowly and sensuously across
the dance floor. Harry wondered if Arabella would have danced faster if she hadn’t given birth only
three weeks before. He sat there watching them and being entranced. He didn’t realize that Hermione
had sat down next to him.

“We’re up next,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“The second dance is for the wedding party. Sirius’s parents will also be on the dance floor. At
least at the beginning of the song, then other couples will be allowed on to join us.”

The song ended and Hermione took him by the hand to the dance floor.

“I don’t really know how to dance,” Harry confessed.

“You don’t need to,” Hermione said kindly, “just put your hands behind my waist, like this.” She
said as she positioned his hands in the small of her back. “And I’ll put my arms around your neck
like this.”

Harry began to feel very warm holding her in his arms.

“And now we can just move slowly on the dance floor. We don’t have to worry about fancy steps or
anything like that,” she said softly. “Just hold me.”

“I can do that,” he said pressing his body against hers.

They swayed slowly to the music. Harry could feel the warmth of Hermione’s body through the
fabric of her dress. He caressed her back as he felt her chest rise and fall against his. He wanted
to make love with her right then and there, but knew that they’d have to wait just a few more
hours. The dance floor soon filled with other couples.

“I love your scent,” he said inhaling deeply.

“I bought that perfume with you in mind,” she whispered in his ear.

“Are you still concerned about public displays of affection?” he asked.

“School’s out remember? Those rules no longer apply,” she replied with a smile.

Harry started kissing her. They quickly lost all notice of the song that they were dancing to
and they continued moving in a circle after the music stopped. It took them a few moments to
realize that everyone around them had stopped dancing and were now staring at them. They broke
their kiss and looked around the crowd and were embarrassed as they were applauded. Harry noticed
that Ron turned his head and Ginny hastily left the table and did not look pleased at all. Oh well,
Harry thought, she had to find out sometime that he had given his heart to another.

Harry and Hermione decided to sit the next dance out and sat down at a neighbouring table. Percy
looked like he had consumed a few too many glasses of champagne. His eyes were bleary and he was
running his hands through his hair.

“I was a fool. I was just a bloomin’ idiot. Dad, Mum, you were right all along,” Percy said to
them with slurred speech. “I thought that if I simply followed what Fudge said that I was helping
the Wizarding World. I never stopped to question anything that he said or did. I just checked my
brain at the door. You-Know-Who didn’t need to try and recruit me, because I was doing everything
Fudge wanted. Now as I look back, there were so many things that were wrong. I should have
recognized it. You tried telling me that since last summer, but I wouldn’t listen. I thought I knew
everything and that *you* were out of touch.”

Percy took another long drink of wine. He turned and looked apologetically at Harry. “I’m sorry
I thought you were evil. I should have known better. I’ve known you for years and you’ve been
accepted in my family…I was blinded by my own ambitions. It was easier for me to think bad of you
than to admit a worse reality might be possible. Even when all the evidence pointed that you were
telling the truth. I was helping in the effort to put you away. You, Dumbledore, Snape, Black and
Figg. If it weren’t for Hermione…,” he choked, “you’d all be in Azkaban. I shouldn’t even be here.
I don’t deserve to be. I – I ”

“Now Percy,” Mrs. Weasley said in a comforting voice, “Sirius and Arabella know that you aren’t
evil. You were just eager to please. Too eager to please. I think you’ve learned a painful lesson
that people are not always what they appear to be. Crouch, Fudge or Sirius Black.”

Percy sighed heavily and turned to Penelope, “Penny, can you ever forgive me? I’ve treated you
horribly in the last few months. Arguing with you over trivial matters such as appetizers and party
favours. I love you so much and I realize now that my obsession with success was damaging our
relationship. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to break off our engagement, but I beg of you to
please give me another chance to prove my love to you.”

She looked at Percy with tears in her eyes and kissed him.

“Percy, you are on the right track,” Mr. Weasley said leaning forward, “to have a long and
successful marriage you need to learn to say two words, ‘yes, Dear.’ And you need to realize that
there are certain topics that are not worthwhile debating because you’ll never win. Things like
wedding plans and decorating your house. You don’t want to argue about curtains or area rugs. It’s
best to recognize that if you want harmony in your relationship that sometimes your opinion will
only complicate matters.”

Mrs. Weasley patted her husband’s hand. “Percy, listen to your father on this. He knows what
he’s talking about.”

Percy began to pick up his glass of wine and Penny took it from him.

“I think you’ve had enough,” she said as she grabbed his hand. “Come dance with me, my
love.”

They left the table and Percy stumbled as they went onto the dance floor. Hagrid came up to the
groom and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sirius, I’ve got somethin’ fer ya. I apologize if she’s gonna need some work fixin’ up. I used
her five years ago ta’ reach Harry when his uncle tried to hide him from us. The Dursley’s took the
lad to a remote island out in the sea. I had ta’ fly it there to reach ‘em. I wound up leavin’ her
there and was happy to see she was still waitin’ there fer me. Course I tried ta’ put a curse on it
so that no one could move her.”

Hagrid then walked behind his hut and rolled out the long lost large black motorcycle. Sirius’s
jaw dropped.

“Hagrid!” Sirius said beaming as he went to examine the bike close up, “You brought her back to
me. My first true love. Thank you so much, do you have any idea how many dates I got because of
this bike?”

Arabella cast him a disapproving look.

“Come on, Bella. If I remember correctly, you liked riding on it, too,” he chided her.

“It did come in handy a few times,” she admitted.

“Sirius, did you realize that we passed the Muggle Protection Act because of that bike?” began
Mr. Weasley, “Something like a flying motorcycle was a bit too flashy and too many Muggles had seen
you flying around on it.”

“Arthur, did you put in any grandfather clauses in that act by any chance?” asked Sirius.

“Well, umm,” Mr. Weasley said uncomfortably, “as a matter of fact, ah, yes. Technically your
bike isn’t covered under the Act.”

Sirius slapped him generously on the back, “You’re a good man, Arthur! I knew that I always
liked you. Yup, the two things I’ve missed the most over the years, besides Arabella of course, was
this bike and my black leather trousers.”

“Leather trousers? I don’t remember seeing you wear anything like that,” she said sounding very
interested.

“Well, I only wore them on dates and back then you were not only my boss, but an old married
lady. I never would have worn them around you, but umm, I could get another pair,” he said smiling,
“just for you.”

“Sounds nice,” she said giving him a knowing look.

“Maybe I ought to get Harry a pair while I’m at it,” Sirius said giving Hermione a wink.

Hermione looked appreciatively at Harry, “Hmm, leather? That I’d like to see.”

Harry started shaking his head and blushing.

“Sirius, that’ll make his Aunt Petunia have kittens,” Arabella protested.

“So what!” Sirius scoffed. “He’s a young man and he ought to be able to make up his mind about a
few things. And if we have any problems with the Dursleys this summer, I’ll let them know exactly
what I think of them. Since I’m not a fugitive anymore, I feel free to speak my mind.”

“And what pray tell do you think you’ll say to them?” asked Arabella.

“I think if I went over there with my wand on my belt, told them that I’m his godfather and that
I’m very unhappy with things – that they’d listen up. Especially if I said that they were damned
lucky that I was behind bars when Harry was a little boy otherwise they’d have found themselves
transfigured into swine for treating him so badly.”

Harry grinned at the thought of how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would be shaking in their
shoes to have Sirius walk into their living room in his full Wizarding glory.

“Oh that’ll work alright, but I’m not sure that’s the best tact,” Arabella said shaking her
head.

“Fine. ‘Catherine’ can work on all the cover stories she wants to in order to get Harry over to
our house every day. But if you ever fall down, I have my Plan B,” Sirius said grinning at
Harry.

The photographer came up to Sirius and Arabella and announced that it was time to cut the cake.
The wedding party walked over to a three-tiered white cake with purple roses and green leaves
adorning it. On the top rested figurines in the shape of a dog and a cat. The couple made their
ceremonial cutting of the first piece and then gently fed each other some cake. Fred made a snide
comment that the groom ought to try and bonk the bride with the cake, which led to a piercing glare
in his direction from Arabella.

The photographer then made an announcement that it was time for all the single ladies to come to
the dance floor for the bouquet toss. Hermione and Penny walked directly to the site as well as
numerous female house-elves.

The photographer noticing the table with many female faculty members walked over to them.

“Are any of you ladies single?” he asked.

“And what if we are?” Madam Pince asked sharply.

“Umm, well, you see, we are going to have the bouquet toss and umm…”

Professor Sprout rolled her eyes. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that anyone
interested in fighting over a bunch of flowers will voluntarily go to the dance floor. I for one
feel that I’m a bit old for that nonsense.”

He gulped and left the table, looking very embarrassed.

Mrs. Weasley brought Ginny by the hand to the dance floor.

“Honestly, Ginny. This is supposed to be fun,” Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Ginny looked sulky and stood next to Penny with Hermione on the other side. The female
house-elves were all surrounding them.

Arabella looked over her shoulder and smiled at Hermione. She raised her left hand and placed it
dramatically over her eyes. She then brought her right arm upwards to toss the bouquet, but at the
last moment turned around and hurled it directly at Hermione.

Ginny looked bitterly disappointed.

“Arabella,” Mrs. Weasley complained. “You aren’t supposed to just throw the bouquet at your
intended target. It’s supposed to be a toss-up.”

Arabella smiled, “It’s my wedding, Molly. I can choose what traditions I want to follow and
which ones I want to change.”

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and muttered under her breath as she put her arm around Ginny and
led her back to the table.

“It’s time for all the bachelors to gather round,” Sirius said as he brought a chair to the
centre of the dance floor.

The Weird Sisters struck up a bluesy song with lots of saxophone in it. Bill, Percy, the twins,
Ron, Harry and Neville as well as the single male house-elves all stood in a semi-circle around the
vacant chair waiting for ‘the show’ to begin. The photographer had learned his lesson with the
female faculty members and did not try to recruit Snape or Filch to join in the festivities.

Arabella slowly walked up to the chair and took a seat. She dramatically crossed one leg and
started moving it in slow provocative circles and lifting her skirt showing a generous portion of
leg. Sirius got down on one knee and took off her shoe. He took two fingers and traced a line going
up the inside of her calf, circling her knee and slowly going up the inside of her thigh. Howls of
delight were emitted by the gathered bachelors. As he found the garter, Sirius used one finger to
lift the elastic band and gently draw it down her leg. As he held the blue ribboned garter in his
hands he stood up and gave his bride a kiss to the cheers of the crowd.

The bachelors then started elbowing themselves in trying to get in the best position to catch
the garter. Sirius looked at them and chuckled. He turned his back and shot the garter into the air
as if it were a large rubber band. The blur of blue and white lace streaked through the air and was
headed directly towards Harry, when Ron jumped in front of him. Ron was grasping at the air with
empty hands and realized that the garter had disappeared.

Ron’s face became clouded with anger. “That’s not fair!” he scowled at the groom.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders and gave his godson a wink, “Who said I had to be fair?”

Harry was confused by this exchange and then reached into his pocket. He found that the garter
had magically appeared there. He drew it out slowly and then twirled it in the air.

“I guess I got it,” he said sheepishly.

Ron shot him a darkened look.

Hermione then sat down in the chair on the dance floor as the Weird Sisters started to play the
same sensuous song. She crossed her legs and let one shoe dangle off her toes. Harry knelt down and
smiled up at her. He tossed the shoe over his shoulder, took one finger and stroked the underside
of her foot making her flinch. He stretched the garter over her foot and used both of his hands to
slowly drag it up her leg. He stopped at her knee and snapped it.

The twins howled, “Higher, higher!”

“You can do better than that,” Bill chided him.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him and then nudged Harry with her foot. He took hold of the
garter again and inched it upwards under her crinoline petticoat. He was careful not to expose her
leg to the crowd, so his hand movements were hidden from view. He wasn’t quite sure exactly how far
he could go up her leg before this exhibition was no longer simply risqué, but became indecent. He
had almost reached the midway part of her thigh when he felt the texture on her legs change. He
felt lace and a small rubberized clip. When he realized that she was wearing silk stockings rather
than simple pantyhose, he felt his heart pound. He stopped at that point and touched her bare skin
in a circular motion with an index finger. He looked up in her eyes and saw that they were filled
with desire. Harry then allowed his hands to glide down her leg to the approving whistles of the
twins, Bill, Percy and Neville. Ron had sat down next to Ginny, they both looked very angry.

Soraya gave a wail and Kathleen Black brought her to Arabella.

“Oh, it seems she’s hungry again,” Arabella said as she took her daughter in her arms. “I think
we ought to be leaving.”

Sirius thanked everyone for coming and told Harry that they would see him in the morning. They
were going to stay at the inn in Hogsmeade for the night. It was much more spacious and
accommodating than the cramped staff quarters.

Harry had enjoyed the wedding and the reception, but he couldn’t wait for it to be over.
Hermione gave a large yawn, which Harry suspected was a fake. She wanted to turn in and hoped to
start a trend. Any giddiness that he had felt after drinking the one glass of champagne had worn
off hours ago. Now all he felt was the dull throb of desire.

*

Harry lay awake in his bed with the curtains closed. He was listening for Neville and Ron’s
snores. He wanted to wait for a long enough time so they were safely asleep. He kept looking at his
watch and seeing the time slowly creep forward. Ten minutes of snoring seemed long enough and Harry
quietly crept out of his bed with his bathrobe and slippers and wearing his Invisibility Cloak. He
slowly walked down the stairs and stepped on the edge of the stairwell avoiding the center where it
creaked. His heart was pounding as he quietly rapped on the door leading to the fifth year
Gryffindor girls’ room.

Hermione opened the door and after he walked inside she grabbed the Invisibility Cloak off of
him. She slowly traced her tongue around her lips and breathily said, “Well, Harry…”

He met her eyes and then slowly looked down her body. She was wearing a thin dress cloak tied
loosely at her shoulders. Under it she was wearing a black nylon camisole with lace on the bodice
and a black half-slip. After lingering on her figure he brought his eyes level to her gaze and
blinked. “Er, you look beautiful.”

“Harry, everyone in the court saw our signals…maybe you ought to tell me the password before we
umm, begin?”

“Moony, Padfoot and…”

“Prongs,” she finished throwing her arms around him and kissing him. Harry’s hands began running
up and down her body. As he felt the warmth of her body beneath the thin silky fabric he felt his
desire for her strengthening, when she abruptly broke their kiss.

“Help me put my trunk in front of the door,” she said as she lifted one end.

“Why don’t we do a charm to lighten it?” he asked as he struggled with the weight.

“I did that in order to get it over here. I don’t want to forget and make it easy for anyone to
interrupt us.”

“What do you have in there? Bricks?” Harry asked as he helped heave it in front of the door.

“Books. What else? Oh and just so you know, the windows are charmed so no one can see in.”

He looked around and noticed that Hermione had lit candles around the room to add a romantic
glow. The full moon also added a bright radiance to the room. The other four beds had their
curtains all hung down while her bed had the drapes drawn open and the covers turned down.

She led him over to her bed and they sat down slowly. Harry stroked the side of her face.

“Hermione, I love you. I want you to know how much you mean to me. We will only go as far as you
are ready. I don’t want to make you feel pressured,” then he paused. “Do you feel nervous?”

“A little. It’s my first time, please be gentle.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly. “Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at all. I’ll
stop, okay?”

She nodded and he gave her a soft lingering kiss. Then he stood to take off his bathrobe. He
reached into the pocket and took out his wand, a bottle of massage oil, two condoms and set them on
the bedside table.

“Two? Did you think we’d do it *twice*?”

“No,” Harry said blushing. “It was just in case I did something stupid like rip the first one.
I’d have a back up.”

Hermione gave him a smile, took off his glasses and set them on the table, “You’re very
sweet.”

Harry untied her dress cloak and took it off her shoulders. He set it on the end of the bed and
then tilted her chin in his hands and gave her another lingering kiss. His lips then slid down her
neck as she rolled her head.

“Why don’t you lie down and I’ll give you a massage. It’ll help to relax you,” he said
quietly.

She nodded and stretched out on the bed on her stomach. Harry kneeled on the bed next to her,
took the massage oil and poured some in his hands and started kneading the muscles on her neck and
shoulders. She was a bit tense at first, but soon responded to his soft touch and he began to feel
her relaxing. He rubbed her back and arms and it seemed as if her body was melting into the bed.
This was far different from the massages he had given to both Sirius and Arabella. He had been
trying to relieve their sore cramped muscles, but for Hermione he was trying to elicit a
pleasurable response. Harry started massaging the bottom of her feet and then moved to her calves.
He started to feel himself getting more nervous and excited when he looked at the back of her
thighs and realized that she was not wearing anything under her half-slip. He slowly worked his way
up her legs, but kept a safe distance from her buttocks. He wanted her to actively decide before he
touched her there or on her inner thighs.

“Why don’t you roll over?”

She did and Harry laid his body down next to her looking in her eyes. “Can I go further?”

She nodded and then kissed him. Hermione undid the buttons on his pyjama top and slipped it off
him. Soon her hands were roaming the front of his chest.

“It looks like you’re starting to get a little chest hair,” she observed.

“There’s not much, but yeah it’s starting to grow.”

Harry slowly moved the lacy shoulder straps of her camisole down exposing her small breasts. He
softly caressed them by moving his hands in a circular motion and then he then lazily traced the
outline of one nipple with his tongue. He was surprised to discover that the massage oil had the
pleasant taste of almonds. He began to tease the nipple lightly with his tongue and teeth causing
it to become a hard little rosebud. Harry watched Hermione’s ribcage rise and fall as her breathing
slowed down. She grasped his head in her hands and directed him to her other breast to repeat the
kissing and nuzzling. He then raised his head and kissed her on the mouth again as his hands
started to gravitate down to her waist.

“Can I touch you down there?”

“Please.”

Harry put his hands underneath the silky fabric of the half-slip and moved it upwards towards
her waist. He found that his desire for her was increasing to a fevered pitch as his fingers began
to explore and probe the area between her legs. He looked at her face and saw that she had closed
her eyes and was lost in the abandon of pleasure. He smiled as he realized that he was doing this
right. She was responding to all of his touches and caresses. She trusted him fully with her body.
He pressed himself against the outside of her thighs. It was almost more than he could bear. He
would need to either stop now or complete the act.

“Hermione, do you want to make love?” he asked looking her in the eyes.

“Yes, Harry,” she said huskily.

Harry took off his pyjama pants and boxers. He reached over for the condom on the bedside table.
He placed his glasses back on his face to help him see as he tore the wrapper. He fumbled a little
as he tried to put it on.

“Oops, wrong way,” he mumbled.

Hermione stifled a small laugh. Harry removed his glasses and then took her face in his hands
and gave her a long passionate kiss. He stretched out next to her and his hands slowly worked their
way down her body. He helped to separate her legs as he moved over and guided himself inside of
her. As Harry entered her, he was shocked at the intensity of the sensations felt by his body. It
was as if all of his nerve endings were concentrated in one area. He felt as if it wasn’t simply
their bodies physically joining together, but a joining of their souls.

Hermione had emitted a strangled gasp as they had become one. Sirius had warned Harry to expect
that she might experience some pain, but assured him that it would soon pass. Harry held her
tenderly in his arms and began to kiss her face. He kissed her furrowed brow and felt it soften
under his touch.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’ll be fine.”

Harry kissed her again. Soft gentle kisses and then he kissed the side of her neck making her
head roll again. He took one of her hands and moved it between them. Her hand started to massage
the area and as the tension in her body subsided, Harry began to slowly resume making love to her.
As he continued he felt as if they were joining each other physically, psychically, and
emotionally. He had never imagined feeling as close spiritually with another person. He couldn’t
imagine making love casually with just any willing partner, it was far too powerful and intimate an
act. Hermione’s body began to shudder as she dug her fingernails into his back. As she moaned in
ecstasy, Harry felt himself exploding within her. He collapsed and put the full weight of his body
upon her, panting heavily. Afterwards, they looked deeply in each other’s eyes and found that they
both had tears in them.

“I love you, Hermione Granger.”

“*Lover.* You’re my lover. Oh, Harry. I never thought you’d love me.”

“Why is that?” he asked brushing the hair off her face.

“Because…” she choked back the words, “because I was too smart for you. And because I wasn’t
good looking enough for you. I didn’t think that you would ever be interested in me. I’ve loved you
for so long, but I knew that you only thought of me as a friend. At the end of our first year, I
was afraid you might die trying to save the Philosopher’s Stone and so I hugged you. You were more
embarrassed by that than you were scared about facing Voldemort. After that reaction, I was afraid
that if I ever let you think that I loved you – that I might lose your friendship. I couldn’t bear
that thought, so I tried to hide my true feelings about you.”

“Hermione,” he said softly. “Sorry, I was a bit slow on the uptake.”

“And last year when it was clear that you liked Cho, I sort of resigned myself to never being
the object of your affections. I began to wonder if anyone would ever love me.”
“Is that why you started dating Viktor?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I never did feel anything towards him. I feel guilty about that, but I
did try to let him down gently and honestly.”

“Did you ever feel anything towards Ron?” Harry asked nervously.

“I tried to. I sensed that he was jealous of Viktor and that maybe it was because he liked me.
The problem is that Ron has never tried to understand me. He’s never taken the time to understand
why I care about the plight of house-elves. He also shows no interest whatsoever in understanding
Muggle culture. It’s my home world and he’s not curious about it at all. It’s his callous disregard
of what matters to me that made me realize it would never work for us. Besides that, it would
always have been me trying to convince myself to fall in love with someone other than you. And then
last year when you…” her voice choked.

“When I what?” Harry coaxed.

“When you said that I wasn’t your girlfriend, it hurt. Because it sounded like you were
embarrassed that anyone might even consider that as a possibility. I had wanted it for so long,
even Rita Skeeter saw something there, but you…you didn’t even want to think that way about
me.”

New tears formed in her eyes and Harry tenderly brushed them away.

“Hermione, I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry that it took me so long. You have been so close
to me, that I couldn’t even see you clearly. I do now and I am utterly amazed by you. *You are
beautiful,* but your true beauty comes from the fire and passion within your soul. That will
last your entire life. At the end of our third year Dumbledore told me that when I saved
Pettigrew’s life that it created a bond between us. He said that when one wizard saved another
one’s life that it was magic at its deepest, at its most impenetrable. I know that we’ve both saved
each other’s life several times over and now after doing this together, I cannot imagine having a
stronger bond with anyone.”

“Well, that is until we conceive a child together,” Hermione said softly.

“I’m not ready for that,” Harry said quickly.

“Don’t worry, neither am I.”

“I want you to know that there is no one that I trust with my life as much as you.”

She swallowed hard at that. “What about Dumbledore or Sirius?”

“They’re my mentors. You are my equal. My partner, my lover, my soul mate. I want you in my life
permanently. One day I intend on marrying you.”

He leaned over and kissed her fully on the lips. Tears streamed down both of their faces. He
took her face in his hands and looked her squarely in the eyes. “If I were to die tomorrow, I would
have no regrets. I have now experienced love fully and have bared my soul with another.”

“Oh Harry,” she sobbed. “I love you so much. How am I supposed to survive without seeing you for
two months? Or even the next two years here when we’ll be close to each other, but won’t be able to
do *this* again.”

Harry kissed the top of her head, “I’ll ask Sirius. I’m sure he’ll think of something. We’ll see
each other this summer somehow. We’ll just have to figure out a way so your parents won’t chaperone
us. And uh, I think Sirius might have some experience about rendezvous here.”

“Having a Marauder for a godfather does have its advantages,” she said and then sounded a bit
nervous. “Harry, did you ever do this before?”

“No, I had never even kissed a girl before you. Why do you ask?”

“Because, you were really good. I’ve heard that the first time is usually pretty awkward, but
you seemed to know exactly what to do.”

“Umm, I had a long talk with Sirius earlier today,” Harry admitted. “He made me promise last
summer that I would come to him before I did anything like this. He gave me some suggestions and
told me some things *not* to do. He has a lot of experience with women.”

“So he knew that we were going to do this tonight?”

“He’s the only one who knows, well maybe now Arabella.”

“I guess that’s okay, especially if you turn to him for help arranging this type of thing in the
future” she said lazily tracing figure eights on his chest. “Harry, I don’t want you getting
experienced with other women. Just me. I want you all to myself.”

“Same here,” he replied, “I’m not interested in anyone else and I want you all to myself.”

They clung to each other for hours just enjoying being in each other’s arms. They kissed and ran
their hands over each other’s body endlessly. Neither wanted the night to end. Finally, Harry felt
that he must leave and return to his dormitory before he became so drowsy that he might fall asleep
and risk waking up in Hermione’s room in the morning.

As they put their nightclothes back on, Hermione took her wand and waved it over the stained
bottom sheet of her bed. It started to shrink until it was the size of a postage stamp.

“What did you do that for?” asked Harry.

“I’ve been collecting and destroying my loose hair and nail clippings for an entire school year.
Do you think I would let something like this bed sheet with such clear magical powers land into
someone else’s hands? No, I want it firmly under my control.”

She then opened her locket and placed the small scrap of fabric inside. She held the necklace in
her hand and smiled. “Now when I hold this, I’ll be remembering this night and how much I love
you.”

Harry grabbed her in his arms and gave her a long and full kiss goodnight. “I’ll see you in the
morning.”

“Until then,” she said dreamily.

Harry left the girls’ dormitory with his mind and heart in the clouds. He was cautious not to
make any noise. He quietly returned to his bedroom and tip toed across the room to his bed. He
silently removed his slippers and placed his glasses on the bedside table. Then he carefully moved
the red curtains and climbed in his bed. Only when he was safely behind his bed curtains did he
remove his Invisibility Cloak. He lay down in bed and breathed a big sigh of relief. As his head
touched his pillow he smiled. He was looking forward to dreaming about Hermione and reliving that
night in his dreams.

“So Harry. You were gone a long time,” came Ron’s angry voice across the room. *“Did you shag
her?”*

Harry felt the blood rush to his face.

“Ron! Don’t talk about her that way,” Harry warned.

Ron ripped open Harry’s bed curtains and stood glaring at him. “Did you? Don’t lie to me. I’m
tired of all your lies. I know you were with her. You were gone for *three hours*. Did you
think I wouldn’t notice?”

Harry stood up and looked him straight in the eye. “Hermione and I are in love. What we do in
private is none of your business.”

“Oh really? You’re not the only one in love with her. If you hurt her, so help me I will kick
your ass.”

“I would never do anything to hurt her and you know it. Ron, you’re my best mate, but Hermione
is my soul mate. I don’t want the fact that both of us love her to ruin our friendship. You are
just going to have to learn to deal with the fact that Hermione and I are together, because nothing
is ever going to come between us, not even my friendship with you.”

“How do you know she doesn’t love me? And isn’t with you just out of pity?” he spat.

“Ron, trust me on this. Hermione loves me. I even asked about her feelings for you. She’s been
in love with me for years, but when I started paying attention to Cho, she gave up hope that I’d
ever notice her as a girl. That’s when she started looking at you as a romantic prospect. Except
that you kept rejecting things that were important to her.”

“Like what?” Ron asked hotly.

“Like your constant ridicule of her interest in house-elves. Her passion for justice is an
integral part of who she is. To reject that is to reject her as a person, Ron. She also felt that
your continued hostility to learning about Muggle culture showed that you weren’t interesting in
knowing where she came from. She embraced the Wizarding World as soon as she learned she was coming
to Hogwarts. And yet, you can’t even try to learn the first thing about popular culture in her
world. That’s why she realized that it would never work between you two. Because you weren’t
willing to accept her for who and what she is.”

Ron and Harry looked fiercely at each other for a few moments. Harry was not going to back down.
Everything he told his friend was the truth and Ron knew it. He would just have to face the facts
that Harry had won Hermione’s heart and accept it. Ron then slowly nodded and clapped Harry on the
shoulder.

Ron’s face looked tortured and his voice was thick with emotion. “You be good to her. If you
don’t, I *will* kick your ass.”

Ron went back to his bed. Harry laid his head on his pillow and his mind was spinning. Minutes
before he had been in the arms of the woman he loved. He had never felt such a sense of
completeness and love. And now after arguing with Ron he felt like his soul had been plunged into
the depths of despair. They had never really spoken to each other about their own feelings toward
Hermione before. Harry had suspected that Ron cared for her deeply, but now he knew for sure. Harry
didn’t know how Ron would be able to interact with him and Hermione now. However, that was
something that only Ron had control over.

Harry also realized that Neville was no longer snoring. He began to wonder how much Neville had
overheard. He was now feeling a little shameful. He had tried his best to protect Hermione’s
reputation, but now Ron and possibly Neville knew that Harry had been alone with Hermione in her
bedroom for hours. He sighed heavily and punched his pillow. There was nothing he could do about
that now. As he closed his eyes for sleep, he felt a mixture of emotions roil within him.

*

The next morning Harry vowed to himself that he would try to stop worrying what other people
thought of him and Hermione being together. He knew that eventually people would expect them to
become intimate anyway, so what difference would it really make in the great scheme of things as to
when people began to think of them as lovers. He planned on being with her for a long, long time.
As soon as he saw her smiling face, his heart was lifted. She ran to him and gave him a great big
welcoming hug and kiss and linked her arm around his back to go down to breakfast.

After their morning meal and saying their goodbyes to Dumbledore, the Longbottoms, the
house-elves and Hagrid, the students took the flying carriages to Hogsmeade where they would wait
for the Knight Bus to pick them up. Sirius and Arabella were waiting for them at the bus stop and
were holding Soraya and leaning against his gleaming motorcycle. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had also
stayed overnight at the inn and were chatting with the newlyweds.

As they gave their trunks to Stan Shupike for storage in the compartments under the bus, Sirius
transfigured his motorcycle into a small bicycle so that it would fit in the storage space.

“Harry have you ever been to the third floor on the Knight Bus?” Sirius asked.

“No, isn’t it the same as the first and second?” Harry replied.

Sirius just shook his head and beckoned him to follow. As they walked onto the third floor,
Harry realized why his godfather liked this floor the best. There was a large bar at one end and
comfortable couches lined the walls. Hermione was drawn to an upright piano that was bolted to the
floor in the centre of the room.

“A piano. I never knew they had one on board,” she said looking at it eagerly.

Ron looked at her with a mixture of impatience and irritation. “What? Are you going to play
Chopin for us?”

“Ron, that’s pronounced Show-pan, not Choppin,” she said gently. “And yes, I do know the
classics, but I prefer Rock and Roll.”

Hermione sat down on the bench, stretched her arms and cracked her knuckles. She began to warm
her fingers up with doing a few scales and then she flashed a smile at Ron and said, “Just
watch.”

Hermione began to play a few notes in a halting manner, but then after a few bars Harry started
to recognize it.

“Is that…Elton?” he asked.

Hermione nodded as she began to play faster and more confident in a bluesy manner. She began to
swing her head and her shoulders in time with the music. Harry sat down on the piano bench next to
her as the Knight Bus took off with a Bang!

“Elton who?” asked Ron.

“Elton John!” Harry said smiling.

As Hermione belted out “B-b-benny and the Jetssss,” Harry found himself grinning from ear to
ear. Witches and wizards were beginning to gather around and looked at Hermione with great
interest. When she finished the song the assembled crowd applauded her.

“What was that song?” one witch with long wiry black hair asked her.

“Oh it’s just an old song by a Muggle musician,” Hermione replied. “It’s one of my
favourites.”

Sirius smiled and looked at some of the wizards who looked puzzled, “You know teenagers and
music. They’re irrepressible.”

“Are you Hermione Granger?” the witch asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“I want to shake your hand. My name is Artemis Flowers and I for one am grateful for all that
you have done for the Wizarding World. We are in your debt for exposing the corruption in the
Ministry. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Why thank you,” Hermione said blushing.

“And are you…Harry Potter?” Artemis asked.

“Yes, I am,” he replied offering his hand to her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. And are you two…?”

“We’re *now* a couple,” Hermione said proudly.

“Well, good. I can’t think of a nicer young couple,” Artemis replied as she took her leave.

A few other witches and wizards came up to shake Hermione’s hand and some cast appreciative
glances over to Sirius, Arabella and Arthur Weasley as they recognized what famous company they
were in.

After the well-wishers left them alone, Harry turned to Hermione and said, “I didn’t know you
could play piano.”

“I started when I was five. I wound up playing the piano a lot over the Easter holidays. After I
went to the libraries and bookstores looking for law books, I needed something to calm my nerves,”
said Hermione as she raised an eyebrow and looked at him suggestively. “There are a lot of things
you don’t know about me, Harry Potter.”

“I plan on sticking around and finding them all out,” he replied with a grin on his face.

Hermione turned back to the piano and began to pound out “Crocodile Rock.” Harry sang along not
caring whether or not he sang in tune. He was enjoying himself. Hermione nudged him with her
shoulder and shot him a teasing look when she sang the line, “Susie’s dress so tight.” This caused
the twins to howl with laughter. Then when she sang the line about Susie leaving him for some
foreign guy she looked Harry in the eye and vigourously shook her head. Harry was feeling happy and
in love. Nothing was going to spoil his mood. Not even thoughts about going home to the Dursleys.
Right now, singing pop songs filled his heart and spirit with joy.

Ron turned to Hermione as she finished the song. “Is your offer still good for me and Ginny to
come visit you this summer? I think maybe we *should* get to know some Muggle popular culture.
It looks like fun.”

“Sure. I’ll ask my parents when a good time would be.”

Harry smiled at that. Maybe Ron was trying to expand his own horizons. He wasn’t worried that
Ron would be able to woo Hermione away from him. Especially not when he saw her casually move her
locket back and forth on the chain and smile at him.

“I don’t know Ron,” said Mr. Weasley warily. “I’m not sure how safe it would be for you. After
all, her parents aren’t magical and you might be setting yourself up as sitting ducks.”

Arabella then smiled and leaned forward, “Hermione, there’s something I have to tell you. After
the trial, I realized that you would need protection. You now have such a high profile by bringing
down the Minister of Magic, that you represent a very real threat to many forces within the
Wizarding World. Even if you weren’t linked with Harry. So, I implemented a plan, Operation:
Safehouse that I made years ago for just such emergencies. Your parents are renting a house from
one of my neighbours, so you’ll be under the same type of protective surveillance that Harry is
under.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look with each other and then broke out in grins. Harry then
looked at Sirius who had a smile on his face.

“Surprise!” said his godfather.

“How did a house become available?” asked Hermione.

“Well, I had a couple different plans depending on what was needed. In this case my neighbour
just ‘happened to win’ the Grand Prize in a contest she didn’t even remember entering. She got an
all expense paid trip to Monte Carlo, the French Riviera, and the Greek islands all for the next
three months.”

“That sounds really expensive,” said Ron.

“It is,” Arabella agreed, “but Hermione’s security is worth it. The late Nicolas Flamel left a
very generous endowment for Hogwarts. This will barely make a dent in it. I’m hoping that she will
finally find that sugar daddy she’s been desperately searching for. If not, I may have to send
Remus down there with a love potion to help the process along.”

“Arabella, that sounds like you’re planning on harming a Muggle,” Mr. Weasley said with a
warning note in his voice.

“Believe me Arthur, it would only be used on someone who had sampled the merchandise but hadn’t
committed to buy.”

“Is this Nadine?” Harry asked grinning.

“Yes, I thought it would be nice to feed two birds with one hand,” she answered smiling. “Bring
Hermione under my security wing as well as rid myself of an annoying neighbour.”

“How old is this woman?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“She’s in her early thirties,” Arabella replied.

“Hmmm, you know Bill hasn’t seemed to find anyone that strikes his fancy. Perhaps he ought to
expand his horizons to include Muggles.”

“Oh Molly, you wouldn’t want Bill going out with Nadine,” Arabella said quickly shaking her
head.

“Why is that?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

Sirius leaned over and whispered in her ear. As he spoke to her, Mrs. Weasley’s eyes grew
larger, her face turned red and her jaw dropped.

“Definitely not!” she snapped. Then she smiled guiltily at Sirius and giggled, “Tell me some
more.”

Sirius threw his head back and roared with laughter.

Arabella turned back to Hermione, “Your parents have already moved into the house which is a few
doors down from mine. It’s a bit of a commute for them, but it is for your safety. During the
daytime, you can also come over to study with Sirius and myself.”

“Good,” said Hermione brightly. “It’s never too early to start preparing for the N.E.W.T.s.”

“You’re right about that,” said Arabella nodding.

Harry laughed and shook his head. He didn’t want to think about studying for a few days. He was
glad to be free of worrying about legal briefs, expulsion hearings or Azkaban. He didn’t want to
think about the upcoming house-elf revolution and what that might mean to the Wizarding World. He
wanted to forget about any worries he had about Voldemort, Death Eaters or any infernal spawn due
to be born by Lilith. Maybe that unholy creature would grow up to someday overthrow Voldemort,
similar to what Zeus did to Cronos. Or maybe, it could just be something that some other hero like
Heracles would have to deal with in the future. All Harry knew was that right now he wanted to bask
in the glow of feeling loved. Voldemort might subscribe to the Machiavellian belief that it is more
secure to be feared than to be loved, but Harry had never felt as secure in his life than he did
now that he was in love.

Harry whispered in Hermione’s ear, “Maybe we won’t have to wait as long as we thought for us to
do it again.”

She nodded, gave him a knowing smile and whispered back, “I think we shouldn’t let my folks know
right away about us. If they think we’re a couple, they might insist on me being chaperoned during
the day when they’re at work.”

He smiled at her, “I know how to keep secrets.”

Hermione started nibbling on an earlobe.

Fred looked at them and said, “Oh yeah, they’ll be studying all right. Anatomy by Braille.”

“Yeah, get a room!” George said.

“Come on you two, be nice,” said Mrs. Weasley. “It’s about time one of those two boys started
paying attention to her. I’ve been surprised it took this long for someone to notice she’s a girl.
And a nice one at that.”

Harry glanced over at Ron and saw that his face had turned red.

“Okay Ron,” said Mr. Weasley, “I guess that since Hermione’s house will be safe, that it’ll be
fine for you and Ginny to go stay with her for a week this summer. But you won’t be able to go
about Little Whinging unless you’re accompanied by either Sirius or Arabella.”

“Why don’t we plan it around the end of July?” Hermione suggested. “I bet the Dursleys have
never had a birthday party for Harry. I’d like to plan something special for his birthday.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Ron grumbled.

Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she glanced in Harry and Hermione’s direction. “Sure,
I’ll come too.”

“You guys will love it,” Hermione said cheerfully. “We’ll have movie marathons, different kinds
of movies each day. Ron you’ll love the James Bond films and Ginny, I’ll be sure to get some good
chick flicks, too. You’ll also learn all about music from the Beatles and the Moody Blues to the
Sex Pistols.”

“The…Sex…” Ron stammered.

“Pistols,” Hermione said finishing his sentence. “They’re a Punk Rock group. I don’t really care
for that kind of music. I don’t care for Rap, Heavy Metal or Grunge Rock either, but I think you
should at least be familiar with it.”

Ron and Ginny seemed to cheer up a little at that. They passed the rest of the ride with
Hermione playing other songs on the piano that the Weasley children tried to pick up the words on.
She played Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop (Thinking about Tomorrow),” Billy Joel’s “Piano Man,” and
Don McLean’s “American Pie.” Harry enjoyed defiantly singing, “This’ll be the day that I die.”
Everyone’s throats became hoarse from singing and laughing.

As they disembarked from the bus in Little Whinging, Harry tried his best to appear as an
upstanding young man before Mr. and Mrs. Granger. He certainly didn’t want them to know that the
previous night he had been intimate with their only daughter. They shook hands with him, but seemed
much more interested in talking with Sirius and Arabella and cooing over Soraya.

Harry turned to say goodbye to Hermione. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, but
restrained himself knowing that her parents were only a few feet away.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said huskily.

“Until then,” he said looking lovingly in her eyes.

As Harry walked the few blocks to Privet Drive pulling his trunk and carrying Hedwig’s cage, he
felt a new sensation. For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to his summer
holidays. He was in love and had his girlfriend living nearby. He was looking forward to spending
time with his godfather, his favourite teacher and a new baby. He hoped that he might get to ride
on the back of Sirius’s motorcycle and he was also hoping to spend lots of time unchaperoned with
Hermione. Things were indeed looking up for Harry Potter.

The End.

Massive end of story notes: I’d like to thank everyone who has taken the time to post their
reviews on my message boards and for following along with my story: Alez Burrow, amulder,
AnimeFanatic, Aradia Ring, Arron!, Ashley, Batgirl, Batgirl1801, Brandie, catark, Chelsea, chrissy,
darkstar, Dream, E. C. R. Potter, FlipSwimmer215, Full Moon, Georgiana, Heaven, HerioneGranger 4
ever, Jessi, Jonesy, LadyGranger, lilyflower017, katrina, KHALIL, kinicky21, Kristin, Krystyna,
Liedral, Lil’ Angel, Megan, Michelle, MostEvilKitten, msscribe, NAPPA, nelli_08, Nicole, nienie,
NIGHTSTALKER, Old Wolf, Professor Granger, Roger, SamanthaMarie, SilverDagger, Slane, Snake,
soccerpunx, star429, Thelvyn, theocacoon, Tina, Tristan, vagrantshadow, XxKkAnGxX, and
yurimionepotter. I hope that I included everyone by name that posted, because I do appreciate those
who have taken the time to post reviews for me.

There was a question for me at the end of the last chapter from theocacoon who wanted to know if
I was the same author as the one who posted this story on Schnoogle. Yes, I am. I retitled the
story because there were several comments that thought, “Sirius Black’s Secret Love” didn’t
accurately reflect the story’s content. I thought it did, since it really was Arabella’s love child
that caused the climax of the story. ::shrugs:: However, since I heard that comment many times, I
decided to change it. And it has not disappeared from Schnoogle, it is still archived there under
that name. I also used the same penname, so it should be obvious that I didn’t steal anything. I
merely republished and tweaked it a little. But thank you for looking out for me on the question of
plagiarism, except it does not apply in this case. I know that other fanfic authors have had their
work stolen and reprinted. I don’t understand what would motivate someone to do that, but it does
happen. So thanks once again for your concern on my behalf.

Dream had suggested at the end of chapter 16 that I pair up Ron with Lavender Brown. Nope. Too
easy. I had briefly contemplating creating a fourth year Ravenclaw to pair Ron with that would ask
for his help in Divination class, that would have helped to foreshadow his prophetic powers. I
thought about that for maybe two minutes before I discarded the idea as being too pat. Same thing
with Ginny. I could have paired her off easily with Neville. Just so there weren’t any hard
feelings. Sorry, but unrequited love is a reality and it is a painful one. I didn’t want to create
a big old tray of baklava that was so drippingly sweet that your teeth would rot in your head.
Instead, I made it sweet and sour. Vinegar with the honey. Harry and Hermione being together will
disappoint both Ron and Ginny. That’s what I predict and I have no problem with the idea of love
triangles. Bring ‘em on JKR!

There have been a few reviewers that asked whether or not I really am JKR. Uh, no. Think about
it, I took you places that JKR won’t. Namely: Arabella Figg’s bedroom! She’d never do that and I
highly doubt that she will show any explicit sexual activity in the adolescent set either. I did,
which should prove that I am not Jo Rowling. But thanks for that vote of confidence in my writing
skills.

There have been some incredibly kind comments that have been placed on my boards. I am glad that
my writing has touched so many people. That truly warms my heart. Others have challenged some of my
dramatic choices, that’s fine too. After all, what is the point of writing if it doesn’t challenge
yourself and your readers?

I hope that I have tied up all the loose ends on this story. It was the reviews from both
Batgirl and SamanthaMarie after chapter 11 that caused me to realize that there was one that I
hadn’t tied off. It didn’t really make much difference, but they wanted to know the identity of the
Death Eater that caused the disturbance at Charlie’s funeral. I hadn’t really thought of that
little detail before, but figured that it would be easy to just add that onto the whole long list
of horrible things that Pettigrew did. So I added that into chapter sixteen. I wanted to mention
that I inserted many, many in-jokes into the text. Some were simply for my own amusement, but
others were in an attempt to add more layers of meaning to the storyline. That’s part of what
intrigues me with J.K. Rowling’s writing is the many layers of meaning in her story. If there are
other questions about my story, please be sure to include your email address in a review and I’ll
respond.

One example of a small detail in the last chapter that I doubt anyone would have picked up on,
but was one of my flourishes was the colours used in the wedding ceremony. The colours of purple,
green and white were the ones used by British suffragettes. I tried to find out if they had a
specific flower for their movement, but couldn’t find an answer to that question. So I used the
yellow rose, which was used by American suffragists. Don’t look at floral pages for the meaning of
roses – it was the historical significance that led to its being chosen. That’s because I would
think that both Hermione and Arabella would care about such symbolic things.

I had several people help in beta reading my chapters or portions of chapters. I’d like to thank
Maria 1314, Daniel Jackson author of “Harry Potter and the Time of Shadows,” on Schnoogle.com and
Lanski author of “A New Ghost” on TheDarkArts.org for giving me their opinions and suggestions on
different aspects of my storyline.

A special thanks goes to Ama (Bonsai Mountain) whose interest in justice for the house-elves led
to a correspondence about our mutual interest in Sirius Black. That led to me seeing if I could
stretch a few lusty scenes into a novel length story. She gave me valuable feedback regarding my
storyline. Another great debt of gratitude goes to Cara Hicks who did a fabulous job of
wordsmithing and made countless suggestions to strengthen my writing. One interesting thing to note
is that both of these women are Ron/Hermione and Harry/Ginny shippers. I asked for more input from
other beta readers at the end who could provide feedback that could provide a more “objective
outlook” on the romantic angle.

I had also wanted to include a filk for this last chapter, but my muse isn’t very good at doing
song parodies. I contacted Caius Marcius and tried to commission one for “Benny and the Jets,” but
his muse took that song and made a filk for Ludo Bagman and his bets. (Shrugs.) He tried to be
helpful and suggested several different filks, but none really fit the bill. For those who have not
discovered Harry Potter themed songs, I recommend his website at: http://home.att.net/~coriolan/hpfilks.htm

I’d like to place another plug for the Harry Potter for Grown Ups list serv, which allows for
critical analysis and sometimes incredibly bizarre theories dealing with all things Potterverse. I
have been inspired by many of the raging debates on that forum and cannot even begin to tell you
how many snippets of things in my story had some origin on that forum. You can join it at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPforGrownups/

I had a wonderful time writing this story. I enjoyed trying out different techniques to see how
great of an emotional range I could pull off. Thank you for being my guinea pigs and for going
along for a bumpy and big bang filled ride. I know that some fanfic authors wind up doing different
stories, sequels, etc. I won’t be. I’ve been a writer for many years, but mostly political essays
and academic papers, this was my first real attempt to do novel length fiction. It was an
experiment to see if I had the discipline, stamina and talent to do so. I enjoyed it immensely and
I am in the beginning stages of trying to write another novel, only this time it is an original
story. When I finish it there is then the chance that I might be able to get it published and get
paid for it. I also don’t have enough theories left of where JK Rowling is going to go with her
story to spin another year’s worth of storyline. So this is an appeal to those who have read my
story but have never posted reviews, if you like my writing please go back and review. I shall be
using this story and the review boards in an attempt to get either an agent or a publisher
interested in my future writings. I will also be looking for people interested in giving me
feedback about my novel once I have it in a form that can be shown to someone. Currently it is an
amorphous mass of scribblings and a broad outline. But if you are interested, please let me know. I
want to make it as strong as possible before sending it out to agents or publishers.

I would also like to recommend to any writers or anyone interested in becoming a writer that
they join a writers club. I belong to the California Writers Club and find it very helpful. If for
no other reason than it offers camaraderie with other authors and I always find myself inspired
after talking with them. It is important to seek encouragement from others when you are engaged in
an activity that by its very nature is solitary and isolating. A link to their website is: http://www.calwriters.com/Main.html Sail on!

Lastly I’d like to thank those who do so much to create and maintain a cyber community for HP
fans and writers that allow us all to share our theories in cyberspace. Thank you especially to
Heaven, James and NAPPA and the various moderators who help to make this place run smoothly.

I am hoping to go to the Nimbus 2003 Symposium, so if you are going – please look me up.
Otherwise, I shall see you around the fandom.

Au revoir.