The Mad Scientist of Leakwood Manor

Authors Notes: An adventure, drama, thriller, mystery, romance (not necessarily in that order). What no angst? Not this time, but thanks for asking. Why did you make the title seem like a parody or humorous story? It really was not intentional. I wanted to get the flavor of the old mystery novels of our grandparent’s generation. It just seemed to fit. I hope you have fun reading it. This one will be substantially longer than any of my previous fics. H/Hr, R/LL and G/N. That’s right, there’s an N after that G. What can I say? I love Neville; he deserves a great witch like Ginny. Draco, not the one we imagine and write about on Portkey, but the cannon one in the books… he deserves diddly. Hehehe. {Runs and ducks for cover from all the D/G fans who are currently cursing my name and throwing large objects} Anyway, Enjoy!

After all the hoopla, it was kind of nice to take some time to just hang out together at The Burrow. There were a lot of important people in their lives, but for right now, it seemed right to have just the three of them together. Ron was going on and on about how great the graduation day practical joke was, provided by the one and only Weasley twins. Harry was laughing and even Hermione had to admit it was a bit funny. Tasteless, but funny.

Immediately after the graduation ceremony Dumbledore had planned a wonderful wizarding fireworks display. He opened up the school coffers and spared no expense to have Fred and George put on a first rate show. The final firework? It was the prettiest, bright pink deathmark anyone had ever seen. It lit up the night sky and capped off one of the best celebrations the school had ever seen.

With the fall of Voldemort only three weeks before, it was a miracle that the three of them had done as well on the N.E.W.T.S. as they did. Hermione had gotten one in every area of expertise, except Muggle Studies and Divination. Of course, those were the only two she decided not to take. Harry had done quite well and Ron did better than most had expected him to. Mrs. Weasley, however, was as pleased as a mother could be and bragged that he really had it in him to be something special. Hermione and Harry could not agree more.

“You two given anymore thought about what you want to do now that we’ve been let loose on the world?” Harry asked aloud.

Ron smiled and replied, “Well, Luna invited me to come visit her and her dad for a couple weeks. I’m a little nervous about it, but I thought it might be kind of fun.”

Ron had not been able to find a date for the seventh year Yule Ball and had just about given up on it altogether. Out of the blue, Luna sent a letter to Ron telling him that she had been carrying a bit of a crush on him for quite some time, but had been too nervous to tell him. Harry thought for sure that he would laugh it off or ignore the letter, but he seemed pretty flattered by the whole thing. The next day he asked her to go. They ended up having a great time. Luna had a knack at making him laugh. Things got a bit crazy after that and they had not been able to see much of each other. Ron had been feeling guilty about ignoring Luna, but she said she understood and that what he had done was far more important. The morning before graduation she invited him to her home, and all there was to do now was to see how the whole thing played out. Harry was hoping that they would be able to recapture some of the magic they shared at the ball.

Hermione and Harry went as friends and it was nice. They only danced twice, but they spent the whole time talking and reminiscing. It was really nice. Harry kissed her on the cheek and she squeezed his hand when they said goodnight. The rest of the year had been utterly awful, but Harry was grateful they had two really great memories to hold onto; the ball and graduation night. The question on his mind right now, was what would happen to the three of them, now that school was over.

“So, what about you Hermione?” Ron asked, leaning forward.

“To be honest, I received a special letter of invitation to attend a summer study abroad program with a small witch’s college in Salem, Massachusetts. The school is half muggles who think they’re witches and the other half are real witches, but they’re not studying magic per se. They’re studying specialized courses in the theology, philosophy and ethics of witches in modern society. I hate to admit it, but it sounds like it might be a really good educational opportunity for me. I sent a letter yesterday confirming a seat for myself there. After that, I’m not really sure. Maybe, I’ll figure it out once I’m out there.”

Ron gave her a funny grin, “Well, good for you Hermione. I, uh, hope you have a good time. You know… doing more school! As if seven years wasn’t already enough.”

Ron laughed and Hermione gave him an embarrassed grin. Neither really noticed the look of hurt in Harry’s eyes. He had thought that after all they had been through together that the trio would have spent the summer just enjoying time with one another. Now Ron was off to be with Luna and Hermione was going to America of all places for the next couple of months. This was not what he had hoped for at all. With Ron he sort of understood. This was his chance to see if he could fix the relationship that never had a chance to take off. Hermione, on the other hand, was leaving Europe altogether; and for what, more classes? That one really hurt, but he was not going to give either one of them the satisfaction of knowing it. He kept a brave face about the whole thing.

Soon enough the talking and the laughter swept him back into a positive state of mind. He was excited for Ron and really did hope that Hermione was going to have a good experience. At least it was an all witch’s school. For some reason that thought made him less worried.

Mrs. Weasley poked her head in with a big plate of pumpkin cookies. The three of them eagerly took some and munched away while trading stories about the last seven years of their lives.

Hermione turned to Harry and asked, “So, what about you Harry? Any thoughts of what’s next for the Boy-who-lived?”

“I really hadn’t thought about it,” he replied lamely. “I guess I wasn’t totally convinced that I was going to live to see this day, so I haven’t had time to figure things out yet. The whole idea of a future after Hogwarts never even occurred to me.”

Hermione’s eyes softened, “Well, now you have that chance. Why don’t you just take the summer off and travel somewhere? It’s a great big world out there. Who knows what you might find.”

“Yeah, that might be okay,” Harry replied.

It was fairly obvious that his answer had been dismissive, so neither Ron, nor Hermione pressed it any further. For some reason, he really had no interest in leaving England. Or even leaving the seat he was sitting in right now, for that matter. It felt a bit like all the important things of his life were slipping through his fingers. What was wrong with just staying put? He had barely seen anything past the Dursley’s home or school. Except for a quick jaunty or two to Hogsmeade and the Ministry of Magic. There was enough things to keep life busy right here. Maybe it was time to learn a little bit more about the country he called home.

“You know,” Harry said thoughtfully, “I think that maybe I’ll explore our own backyard a bit. I haven’t really seen much and I know almost nothing about what it means to be an adult wizard. I think I’ll just hang out here.”

Ron answered, “You know, that might not be such a bad idea. Plus, that way you can come and visit Luna and me. I know she’d love to have you over. You should plan on stopping by a couple times. It’ll be fun.”

“Alright then,” Harry smiled, “I’ll hold you to that.”

The thought of getting to at least spend some time with Ron and Luna made things seem a little brighter.

Hermione chimed in, “And hey, Fred and George will be at their store and Ginny still as another year of school. I know she’d love you to stay in close touch. As a matter of fact, I have it on the highest authority that she would miss you terribly if you didn’t stick around. And didn’t you promise Neville to go and meet his parents? He’s convinced that they would not be back to their old selves if it wasn’t for you. You’d be a hero in that household. Not that you’re not one now… well, you know what I mean.”

Things were looking better and better. Maybe this would be a good summer after all. His parent’s small fortune meant that he could take some time and enjoy life. Something he had never really allowed himself to do before.

A clomping coming down the stairs signaled another Weasley was about. Harry looked up and saw Ginny poke her head in through the door.

“Hey you three. What’re you up to?”

It was the most unenthusiastic greeting Harry had ever heard from her. Considering the first time he met her that was saying a lot.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione blurted out.

“Ohhhh… nothing,” came an equally enthusiastic retort.

Ginny plopped down next to Ron and let out a noticeable sigh.

“Isn’t Draco a complete jerk?” she offered to no one in particular.

Hermione tried to cover her smiling mouth with her hand. Harry decided it was a good time to stare up at the ceiling. A distinctive growl was coming from Ron’s throat.

“Oh, just go ahead and say it,” Ginny snapped. “We tooold you sooo. I just thought he had changed after everything we had all gone through. It seemed like he did, but as soon as his mother and father were out of the way, he inherited their whole estate and gobs of galleons. I reminded him that he invited me to travel to France with him a month ago and he suddenly remembered that he had to visit some sick family member. Which I’m sure explains the fact that he suddenly had three Slytherin girls lined up to travel with him. Bunch of money-grubbing scarlet women. They couldn’t stop fawning all over him and the little prat enjoyed every minute of it. Big stupid jerk.”

Harry really wanted to feel bad for Ginny, but for some reason he just could not. As far as he was concerned it was the best thing that could have happened. A jackal might be wearing sheep’s clothing, but in the end, he was still a jackal. Harry and Hermione kept their mouths shut, but Ron could not resist a barb or two.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s not your fault that you didn’t listen to anybody at all.”

“I so appreciate your support Ronald. By the way, noticed Luna isn’t anywhere in sight. Did you succeed in chasing away the only girl that ever gave you the time of day?”

“For your information, she invited me to stay at her house for a couple weeks,” Ron grinned.

“Well… then… oh, who am I kidding. That’s actually good news. Just don’t blow it,” Ginny conceded.

“Ginny, you should send a letter to Neville. I thought you promised to do something nice for him for saving your life. I’m sure he’d like to hear from you, especially since you haven’t talked to him since then,” Hermione suggested.

“Good grief Hermione. Do you always have to be so good at making me feel guilty?”

“Yeah, she’s really good at that,” Ron agreed.

“That is not true, I don’t try to make people feel guilty” Hermione exclaimed, “Harry, back me up here.”

“Ummm… I… it’s just that, well you really are quite good at the guilt thing,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“I have no friends,” Hermione declared.

They all laughed at that and the four of them kept on talking through the afternoon and into the evening.

--- ---

Hermione had made her way back home and the entire Weasley clan was fast asleep, to the last. Harry’s makeshift bed was underneath the window in Ron’s room. He could hear his steady breathing. Outside the waxing moon was due to be full in the next couple of days. It was sitting almost perfectly in the middle of his view. Its pale light lit up the garden in the backyard. The crickets of summer were filling the night with their high-pitched song. The evening wind had died down to a slight breeze that only swayed the smaller branches and the tallest blades of grass. The air had that slightly sweet, organic smell that only comes at the end of a warm June day.

Harry’s mind began to wander and he let it fill with all of his past memories. Some he smiled at, some he cringed at, and some he just shook his head. He decided that tomorrow morning he would send a letter out to Remus Lupin. For some reason, he thought that Moony might have some good advice about what he should be doing with his life. After all the ups and downs, Harry had no interest in working at the ministry, although he would never tell that to Mr. Weasley. He did not want to hurt his feelings. What were the alternatives? He certainly was not planning on opening a shop of any kind. So, what exactly do other witches and wizards do with their lives.

For awhile the possibility of trying out for one of England’s quidditch teams seemed interesting, but after his fight with Voldemort his joints and limbs were never quite the same. It seemed to age him somehow and his knees and arms hurt a lot when he spent too much time on a broom. At first he was convinced that it was simply awful, but in the end he decided it really was not all that tragic. He certainly loved to play, but somehow the thought of playing for someone other than the Gryffindor team turned it from something fun into work. He never wanted something so special to him, to become a job. That would ruin it. Kind of the way that some artists love to paint, or sculpt, or create in some way or another, but when they have to do it for a paycheck then they start to hate it.

The real question is what would he be good at? He was fairly good at being a student when he put his mind to it, but that time was done. He was really great at defeating Dark Lords, but the only one that he knew about had been quite destroyed. No one really seemed interested in applying for the currently vacant job. Which was a rather pleasing thought, overall. Nevertheless, it really was not a skill that would be helpful in some day to day drudgery. So, the question still remains, what on earth would the Boy-who-lived be good at doing? It’s not like he had to suddenly find an income, he had enough money that his children would most likely never have to work, even if he lived a comfortable life between now and then. The thought of not doing something productive kind of chaffed at Harry. Heroes simply do not like lazing about like gentlemen of leisure; he decided he would have made a terrible Malfoy.

After letting all these thoughts run circles in his mind for a couple hours, he finally fell asleep and did not wake again until the sunlight poured down on his pillow.

--- ---

Ginny was staring down at Harry, while gently poking his forehead.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Time for breakfast.”

Harry sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Ron had already gotten up, but apparently decided to let him sleep in. Once Ginny was convinced he was up she turned and started to walk out of the room.

Just as she was heading out the door, she looked back and announced, “And by the way. There’s a visitor here to see you. So, don’t take all morning to come down.”

With that a flurry of red hair whisked out of the room. Harry dropped his legs down to the ground and stood up. He stretched his arms straight out and let out a large wakeup yawn. He smacked his lips and undressed. He looked through his meager selection of non-school clothing and grabbed a pair of jeans and a wine-colored pullover. Lastly, on went the glasses as he stumbled down the narrow staircase.

As he came around the corner he could smell eggs, bacon and fresh biscuits wafting up towards him. His stomach began to grumble and a smile crossed his face in anticipation of another great home-cooked breakfast ala Mrs. Weasley. When Harry hit the bottom he looked across the kitchen and noticed it was empty. He could hear loud voices coming from the backyard. A perfect sunny, summer morning for breakfast in the garden.

Harry stepped out into the day and strode over to the extra large picnic table Mr. Weasley had brought home sometime during the spring. Lively faces were bantering with one another. Harry noticed that indeed there numbers had increased by one. After a quick shock of surprise he cleared his throat.

“Albus, it’s so wonderful to see you!”

The talking immediately died down and a large number of mouths stood open.

Ron was the first to break the awkward moment, “Don’t you mean Professor Dumbledore?”

Harry walked straight up to Dumbledore with his hand stretched out. Albus stood up with a smile and warmly shook Harry’s hand.

Ginny was the one who broke through the ice, “No, he’s right Ron. I think after everything Harry has been through and the fact that he was the one to face Voldemort and live the first time and then the only one who succeeded in killing him the second time… well, I think he would be just about the only person who could ever be considered Professor Dumbledore’s equal.”

With warmth and wisdom Dumbledore replied, “You are quite right Ms. Weasley. I could not have said it better myself. It is so good to see you Harry. I hope you are doing well.”

“I am, thank you. I’m really glad to see you.”

Dumbledore nodded his head and answered, “I have some most interesting news for you, but let’s just save that until after you’ve gotten a little breakfast in you.”

With that they began digging in anew. Everyone picked up where they had left off and before anyone knew it they were all as full as a person could be. Ron patted his stomach and leaned back with a contented look on his face. Ginny opened her mouth and let her tongue hang out. Mr. Weasley thanked his wife at least three times for such a wonderful breakfast. It was one of those warm moments in life that one looks back on years later and lets a smile cross their face at the memory.

“You will recall that I had something to tell you Harry. I sincerely hope you will not be cross with me, as I would hate to think you felt that I kept something from you unnecessarily. I worried that if you knew about this, that you would not have gone back to stay with the Dursleys; leaving you vulnerable to Voldemort, something I simply was not willing to do.”

“Alone? Out where?” Harry interjected.

Dumbledore pulled out a very official looking parchment. It was rolled up and tied with a small, blue velvet ribbon. There was a small piece of melted wax, hardened across the middle. It had a symbol pressed into it, that Harry did not recognize.

“This, my dear boy, is for you.”

Dumbledore’s arm stretched towards Harry holding it outward. Harry tentatively reached and gently slid it from his hand. He pulled it close, removed the ribbon and stared at the waxy seal.

“What is this symbol?”

“It is a coat of arms,” Dumbledore smiled. “It is the family crest of the very old and well respected Leakwood family. I regret to say that the last of the family had no children of their own and there is no one else to carry on the name.”

Mrs. Weasley spoke out and said, “I think I remember that name. Wasn’t it an older gentleman… oh, what was his name… Gerald, yes Gerald Leakwood. I’m almost positive that he was the one who first suspected Voldemort was a threat.”

“Indeed you are quite right,” Dumbledore reassured. “He was the last of his family line and he was the first to be killed in the Dark Lord’s rise to power. What is written about in this document was his rightful inheritance. However, when he died it went to the only other person who had any Leakwood blood in them. A one Lily Potter. She was a descendant by way of her grandmother as I recall. And now, Harry it belongs to you.”

“But, what is it?”

“It’s a will,” Albus said somberly.

Harry felt awkward about breaking the seal, but with all eyes staring he carefully split the wax and unrolled the long parchment. He began to read and read… and read.

“Well? What does it say mate?” Ron exclaimed.

“I,” he read a little more, “I seem to have inherited…” He read a little more, “A place called Leakwood Manor, and from what I can tell a substantial amount of surrounding land. It was originally built in 1783. It has been in the Leakwood family ever since and it says that I am the sole heir.”

Harry rolled the parchment back up and stared off into the distance. He was trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he had some kind of house or manor, or whatever and that it was now his and his alone. He thought that it all seemed very surreal. What was he going to do with a whole manor?

“It said that it’s located about thirty miles east of Gillingham. I’ve never been anywhere near there before.”

Ginny lit up, “Gillingham, it’s not too far of a trip to the Strait of Dover from there. It’s just due east of Gillingham. Not a bad place at all Harry. You might like living there.”

“Living there? No, no Ginny. Who said anything about living there? I don’t want to live in a manor way out there. I’d be all by myself. In some big, lonely place, and plus how would Hermione… I mean, how would anyone for that matter, find me. I can’t live out there. I just can’t.”

Then Dumbledore said the one thing that turned Harry’s mind completely around about the whole matter.

“Harry, I really think you should go there; at least for awhile. This is one of the only connections you may have to any of your family’s ancestors. It would be like a link to long lost loved ones. Specifically, your mother’s family. Perhaps, you will find what you are looking for there.”

Harry thought about it for a moment. He thought about the word ‘family’, and the word ‘connection’. Somehow that changed the idea of what it would be to go there. He really had no idea of what it was he was looking for, but maybe this would be a good place to start.

“Maybe I will go. That might not be so bad.”

“There ya go,” Ron said with enthusiasm. “Now you have a summer adventure, too.”

That solidified it in Harry’s mind. If everyone else was going to have an adventure, then he thought he should have one too. A frown crossed his face and he looked directly at Mrs. Weasley.

“You will tell Hermione where I am won’t you? What if she can’t find me there?”

Molly looked long and hard at Harry. She knew that Hermione would have no problem finding Harry, and on some level she knew that Harry knew that as well. For some reason though, he was afraid of something. Then after careful thought, she knew what it was. He was not afraid she would not be able to find him. Harry was afraid that she would not even try to find him. Which of course was ridiculous, but to him, at this moment in his life, it was not ridiculous at all. By his look, she deduced that he was quite frightened by the thought.

“Well, when our Hermione gets back,” she said with warmth in her voice. “I will send her straight away to see you, first thing.”

Harry smiled, but she could tell it was forced and full of worry.

Authors Notes: Ha! Bet you didn’t think I could write a whole serious chapter without someone weeping, or blacking out, or dying off did you? I admit a slow start here, but I’m savoring this story and I want it to have some depth to it. I want this work to have some serious length and I really want you to understand where the characters are coming from. Plus, I’m writing to help work through some personal issues. If you were too bored with it so far, give it a chance. I have a really fun and interesting story planned out, I promise. Would the madman of angst lie to you? Of course not! Until next time, happy fanfic reading.

Ron had left only about an hour before, and though he hated to admit it, Harry missed him already. It was not like they had not been separated before, it was just he was feeling a bit clingy. The notion of traveling out to Leakwood Manor made him slightly nervous, so he decided this would be a good time to get things in order before he took off.

Harry made a trip down to Diagon Alley to do some last minute shopping. He had been meaning to buy some clothes for quite some time now. It was time to be a little more fashionable, or at least get more than two pairs of non-school clothing that would fit. He certainly could not rely on the hand-me-downs of Dudley anymore. He picked out four or five pairs of shirts and pants and got a gaggle of socks and a new pair of shoes to go with it. With all of it in a big bag, he headed back outside.

He made a quick detour and stopped for a bit. After a quick butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry then got back up and wandered down to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes to check in on Fred and George. Harry stood just outside the window and looked around from the outside. There were a large number of people in the store and Fred and George seemed highly occupied, so he decided to come back later. Things might be less busy in the afternoon, Harry hoped.

He began to just walk down the sidewalk, seeing what there was to see and before he knew it Harry was stone crazy bored. The last place he wanted to be was shopping, especially by himself. With a shrug of his shoulders he gave up on the whole idea and made his way back to The Burrow. Ginny had made plans to make a short visit to Neville’s house and he decided it might be nice to tag along. He really had not had a chance to see Neville’s parents since they had been able to come home from St. Mungos. Plus, the look on Neville’s face when he saw Ginny would be worth it to make the trip.

Harry changed out of his old clothes and tried on some of his new ones. He stared in the mirror and thought that he looked kind of nice in clothes that actually fit. He came downstairs only to run into Ginny who had just finished getting herself ready. She was looking cute as she could be, with a summer skirt and a soft blue tank top. This was definitely going to be fun watching Neville squirm. Harry felt that Neville needed a little nervous excitement in his life.

“You ready to go?” Ginny asked.

“Yep. Shall we?”

With that the two of them apparated there way to the Longbottom estate. Harry was a bit shocked. Neville’s family was quite wealthy. He remembered that his grandmother was a woman of means, but this was a very nice home. The home had to have been four stories high and was surrounded by beautifully manicured rose gardens. There was even a small fountain just a ways out from the front door.

Ginny let out a soft whistle, “Wow. I had no idea. The Longbottoms appear to be about as wealthy as the Malfoys. Who knew? I’ll give him this much. Neville sure does not rub it in anyone’s face that he has money. They way that boy dresses you’d think he would be poorer than us.”

Harry let out a guilty laugh. The two of them stepped up to the main entrance and pulled on a silk knotted rope that was dangling down. A pleasant sound of a small bell filled the large patio. A moment later the door opened and an older gentleman stiffly greeted them.

“Good day young Master and Miss. May I ask the nature of your visit?”

Ginny quickly spoke up, “Yes. I’m Ginny Weasley and this is Harry Potter. We’re friends of Neville’s and have come to pay him a visit. Is he in?”

“Master Neville is indeed in. Please come in and I’ll let him know you are here.”

The pair walked in and did little to cover their amazement at the high-ceilinged foyer. A large roman column rose up from the center and went all the way to the arched ceiling. The surrounding walls were a series of hand painted murals depicting a myriad of nature scenes. One side was a deep, primeval forest with a meandering stream. The water was actually flowing and a soft breeze bounced the oak and pine tree branches bobbing up and down. Another side was a gorgeous mountain view into a sprawling fertile valley. A dusting of snow could be seen swirling to and fro and horses were galloping in the fields below. Before they could notice anymore, a timid voice interrupted them.

“Harry? Ginny?”

Standing just inside an arch, leading back into a substantial library, was Neville. He seemed genuinely happy to see them, but simultaneously nervous and shy. There was no mistaking Neville; he practically coined the phrase ‘self-conscious’. He was looking good though. Since his parents had come home he had been spending a great deal more time outdoors and it showed. His skin went from pale to a nice olive color. It suited his dark brown hair, which had recently been cut and styled. He actually looked not half bad. The defeat of Voldemort and the reuniting of his family had obviously done wonders for his well-being.

“Hi Neville,” Harry smiled. “It’s great to see you. I hope you don’t mind us dropping by. We thought it would be nice to check up on you.”

Ginny did not say a word. She just looked at Neville with her head cocked to one side; like she was sizing him up for some reason or another. Neville smiled at Harry, but his face seemed to go piqued at the sight of Ginny. He had obviously not had time to mentally prepare seeing her. Neville just looked right at her and stood there with his eyes wide open. If ever Harry doubted that Neville had a substantial crush on Ron’s little sister, it was now dispelled. Neville quickly stared down at his feet and mumbled a shy hello to Ginny.

A glance at her and Harry’s heart sunk. She looked at him with no warmth in her eyes. Instead, Harry saw pity. Ginny was only here, because she felt sorry for Neville. There was no doubt that whatever fleeting hopes Neville might have held were going to crash and burn at the feet of his red-haired muse. The whole thing was kind of hard to look at.

“Hi Neville, it’s nice to see you again,” Ginny said.

Listening Harry heard nothing but niceness in her voice; the kind of dismissive niceness that only a woman can do so well.

“Would you like to have lunch with us? We were just about to sit down.” Neville spoke with enthusiasm.

“We’d love to,” Harry said honestly.

With that Neville led the two of them through the library and down a long corridor that had numerous pictures of the Longbottom clan through the years. At the end of the hall was a large set of maple-wood doors. Neville grasped them firmly and opened them up. They led into an elegant dining room with a large, oval cherry table, set for a delicious summer lunch. China place settings were loaded with fruits, cheeses, sandwiches and sweetbreads. Already sitting down was Neville’s grandmother and both his mom and dad. They looked wonderful. The sight made Harry grin. It was a good moment for him to see the direct results of what defeating Voldemort had done. It helped bring families that have been too long apart back together. Alice Longbottom was the first to speak.

“It is so wonderful to see you Harry and of course you as well Ginny. We’re delighted you both came to visit Neville. Please sit down and eat with us.”

She was a warm and gentle person. Harry immediately liked her and had no doubt that she was a great mother to Neville. Living without her all these years must have been a heavy toll on him. Harry understood that all too well.

The six of them enjoyed friendly conversation throughout the scrumptious meal. Even Mrs. Longbottom, Neville’s ‘Gran’, seemed a whole lot friendlier and far less condescending to the poor boy. Then Neville’s mom said something that changed the mood of the entire moment.

“Neville, you never told me that Ginny was such a pretty thing. No wonder you are so fond of her. She’s smart ‘and’ beautiful.” Alice turned to Ginny with a smile, “He just never stops talking about you. It seems like you would end up a major topic of conversation in every letter he sent me during the last few weeks of school. He spent the whole morning framing pictures of you and putting them all over his wall. I just think its so darling how highly he thinks of you.”

Neville dropped his fork into his plate. He stood up and then sat right back down. He stared as hard as a person can stare at the water glass in front of him. His whole face had completely drained of all color and he began to stammer quietly. He politely asked for everyone to excuse him and he lurched back up knocking his knee into the table.

“What’s wrong with you Neville?” his grandmother glared. “You have company here.”

Neville apologized, but still continued to get up. He turned away and quickly stumbled out of the room without another word. The room was deathly silent. Harry felt a hole deep in his stomach. This was probably one of the worst moments of Neville’s life. It was just completely awful.

Mrs. Longbottom began to offer an apology on Neville’s behalf, but Ginny cut her off.

“No, it’s alright. Please don’t apologize. He was embarrassed. I’m sure I would have run off as well.”

Neville’s mother sat with her mouth wide open.

“Oh, dear. This is all my fault. I thought… well, I thought with all the talking about you and all the stories and wonderful things he had to say… I assumed that the two of you had something going between one another. My poor son; I am so terribly embarrassed, and I went and embarrassed Neville too.”

She brought her hand to her forehead and shook her head. She had made an honest mistake, but unfortunately it was a mistake that would be humiliating for a young man who already had the confidence of an eggplant. Harry stood up.

“I’ll just go and check on him real quick.”

“No, I will,” Ginny said mollified.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Ginny,” Harry replied somberly.

“It’s okay Harry. This is something I need to do.”

His father quickly told Ginny how to get to Neville’s room. She thanked him and then made her way to catch up to him. After a number of stairs and various twists and turns she found his room. The door had been left open a crack and she quietly stepped in. Neville looked like someone had just died. He was trying hard to quickly pull the pictures of Ginny off the wall that he had put up earlier that day. When he turned and saw her, he dropped them all on the floor. He looked like he really wanted to run, but just could not seem to find anywhere to run to.

“I… I can explain,” Neville stammered.

“There’s nothing to explain Neville,” Ginny said quietly.

“I’m so sorry. You must be terribly upset,” he responded.

“Upset? Why? ‘Cause a nice young man who saved my life has a crush on me? No, Neville I’m not upset and I’m not embarrassed. I know that you are though, and for that I’m so sorry. I’m also sorry that I never properly thanked you for saving me from that death-eater. I know I would be dead right now, if you had not been there.”

Neville was still staring at the pictures on the floor he had dropped a moment ago. His face told Ginny everything she needed to know. He wanted nothing more than to have the earth swallow him whole right then and there. Anything so he would not have to look up into her eyes. To be honest, she was sort of glad he did not want to look at her. For some reason, she felt terribly guilty for what he would see looking back at him. A girl who thought he was a really nice guy, but nothing more. Neville was a lot of things, but he was no Draco Malfoy.

“Harry and I will go. I know this is not how you wanted this afternoon to end up. I promise I’ll write to you. Thank you for lunch, and much more importantly, thank you for being such a wonderful friend.”

With that, Ginny turned around and made her way back to the dining room. Harry had already stood up and was waiting for her. She looked at him and shook her head back and forth. Mindful of where she was at, she turned to everyone else.

“We are so glad to see how well you are all doing. It was lovely to enjoy lunch with you. Not that it is my place, but I think that Neville would really like to be left alone for a bit. I promised to send a letter to him. I’ll come by and visit again after I have a chance to write down a few thoughts that I’ll send by owl. Take care.”

Harry nodded his head and offered his thanks and farewells. Following that, Harry and Ginny left the Longbottom home; a lot more somber than when they first arrived.

--- ---

After the visit to the Longbottoms, Harry decided that maybe now was just as good a time as any to start his adventure. He was afraid any more of this visiting old friends would make him even more depressed. He was ready for a little excitement. Something to put the past exactly where it belonged; in the past.

After stopping by Gringotts Bank to get some travel money and packing all his belongings up at The Burrow, it was time to go. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were there to see Harry off. Molly hugged Harry tight and wished him the best and told him to write as soon as he got settled in. Ginny was quite unhappy that Harry was leaving, but knew that he needed this in his life. She said goodbye to her friend and threw her arms around him.

“Go find yourself out there Harry. It’s time you learned more about who you really are. You’ll always be my hero, but you can’t be your own hero. So, you need to discover what’s on the inside of you. Goodbye… but just for a little while.”

With that he walked up to the fireplace, threw some floo powder in and called out, “Gillingham’s Brownhog Tavern.”

With a sudden pulling sensation he was hurled across half of England and popped out inside of a small tavern. It was in downtown Gillingham, but was hidden from muggle eyes. A sanctuary for witches and wizards who lived near the eastern shores. Harry picked himself up and dusted his pants off. There were only two other folks in the tavern; an old barkeep and a young woman wiping down a tray of mugs. Both of them looked up and nodded as he gave a quick wave.

“I’m sorry to barge in. I was just passing through and was told this was the closest place I could travel by floo,” Harry apologized.

The serving woman smiled and reassured Harry, “No apologies necessary. We get a number of travelers through here. We’re the only wizarding establishment in a forty kilometer area, so we kind of expect it.”

The barkeep hollered, “So, where ya headin’ to?”

“Well, I’ve recently inherited a home nearby and I’ve come to see what it’s like.”

“Really now,” the barkeep exclaimed, “whereabouts is it?”

“Um, Leakwood Manor,” Harry answered.

The woman practically dropped the mug she had in her hand.

“Seriously?!”

“Yeah, why is that bad?”

The barkeep laughed, “Nah! It’s just the place has been sitting empty for nigh on about fifty years now. Never really expected anyone to come and claim it.”

Harry realized that his mother never even set foot in the place if that was true. If his guess was right, the last of his family who might have lived there, would have been his grandmother and grandfather on his mother’s side. Though, he could not even be sure of that. He hoped that he would be able to answer these questions and more when he finally arrived.

“Could you tell me the quickest way to get there,” Harry asked.

The young woman looked thoughtful for a moment, “Well, if you don’t have a car, than your best bet is the muggle train that has a stop a few miles from there. You’ll need muggle money though. They won’t know what to do with knuts or galleons.”

“Oh,” Harry sounded disappointed.

“You can trade some of your wizard money for muggle money here at the bar if ya like. I charge five percent, to make it worth my while.”

Harry decided it was a fair deal and traded in for enough money to buy a couple train tickets; just in case. As Harry made his way out of the tavern the young woman called after him.

“If ya get lonely for the company of wizarding folks, then come down and visit. Summer is when a lot of people come through for vacations and the like. You’ll most likely come in to a full house.”

Harry thanked her and within a half hour was on an eastbound train. The food cart that wandered by was filled with pre-packaged muggle snacks, none of which appealed to him. So, he settled in and waited to hear the station called. There was a quaint little village, or so he was told, about two and a half miles from Leakwood Manor. He would get off there and either walk the rest of the way, or ride his broom if he thought he could do it without being seen.

As he looked out the window and watched the small towns slide past his view his thoughts went to Hermione. The more he thought about it, the more unhappy he was with her for leaving. Why did she have to go anyway? It was not so long ago that one of her favorite things to do was spend time with him and Ron. Now, it seemed like she could not wait to get away from them. He shook the feelings off and determined to have loads of fun in his new manor. A lot more fun than taking witch’s philosophy courses anyway.

Harry heard his stop and made his way off the train. The little place was aptly termed a village. The whole thing could not have held more than a few hundred people, but it was quiet and kind of homey feeling. A few passer-bys saw him and smiled politely. Harry waved and smiled back at them. He passed over the dirt road that went through the middle of the village square and ducked behind some trees. He opened his bag up and pulled out his wand. With a quick flick he pulled out and returned to normal size his broom and his invisible cloak. He slipped the cloak on over him and the broom as best he could and then kicked off and sped through the airy forest around him. Following the directions of the tavern owner he made good time and arrived at the edge of his property.

Harry was delighted to note that a large amount of his property was pristine forestland. There was even a large creek running nearby that seemed to be running in the direction towards where the manor was supposed to be. He got off his broom and removed his cloak. He figured it might be nice to walk from here. The trees were tall, but spaced far apart. It gave everything an open feel that many forests do not seem to have. He realized that indeed the creek led straight to where he was headed. It got wider and wider as he walked and finally it opened up into a large pond in a field up ahead.

As Harry climbed a small hill he stepped into an enormous wide open space. The trees surrounded the area, but there was a substantial amount of clear land. Harry noticed a small cemetery off to the side. It was well kept and had an array of ornate stone and marble sculptures throughout. Beyond that he could see a large garden that was surrounded on three sides by a tall ironwork and stone fence. It was immaculately kept and most of the plants and bushes were in full bloom. An explosion of reds, blues, yellows, whites and many other colors of flower were everywhere. Then his eyes stopped and his chin just about hit the ground. There in the middle of it all was an old stonework manor. It too was amazingly well kept, but still retained that old feeling that gave it such a unique charm. There were tall bushes lined up leading toward the front entrance. Stone steps led straight to the tall, double-sided oak doors. The manor was only three stories high, but made up for it in being so wide and deep. There were even four small towers on each of the corners. Each of the towers had immense stained glass windows. Harry guessed that the place must have had fourteen or fifteen rooms.

The question sprang to mind again, which was, what on earth was he going to do with a whole manor all to himself? The next question was how on earth was the place so well cleaned and groomed. It was obviously empty, but there was no doubt that someone or something was keeping the place perfectly.

Harry slowly stepped towards the magnificent archway alcoved over the oak doors. He made himself a promise that he would come back outside and walk through the garden and especially the cemetery, but right now he was dying to see what the inside of this place looked like. As he reached out towards the door handle, one of sides opened up for him. There in the doorway was a tiny house-elf with a broad, happy grin.

“You must be being Master Potter. Come in, come in and I am happy being the one who first makes you welcome here at Leakwood Manor.”

With a deep bow the small elf beckoned Harry inside. Harry stepped in and felt like he had just stepped back in time. The entryway floor seemed to be a rugged mahogany and the round-stone walls had two colorful banners hanging just inside. Each of them bore the same family crest that Harry had seen pressed into the wax seal on the will. It certainly did not have the fancy flare that the Longbottom estate had, but Harry liked this even more. It was sort of like, well, sort of like a smaller version of Hogwarts just for Harry. He immediately felt a sense of overwhelming peace flood into him. He had not even seen the rest of it yet and he already loved every single thing about it.

Harry looked down at the excited house-elf and said, “I’m home, for the first time in my life… I’m home.”

Harry had not taken even one more step into his new home when Hedwig dropped in through the front door and carefully landed on a heavy wooden coat-rack. She had a letter and a soft, leather pouch for him. He opened the letter and began reading it.

Dear Harry,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am all settled in at my summer school. America is a lot different than I expected it to be. To be honest, I never really gave the people here much thought, but I have been pleasantly surprised for the most part. Many of the witches (both real and those who wish they were) are quite friendly. Did you know that there is a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? It has a very different name though. They call it the Wizarding Institute of Technocracy, Chants and Hexes (W.I.T.C.H.); isn’t that so very odd? Leave it to the Americans to be completely different from the rest of the world. Almost all of the real witches here attended there.

While talking with some of the brighter young women I have learned that they have some very strange ideas about mixing science and wizardry. I told them it simply was not possible, that the two do not mix. They insist that there was a great wizard from Europe who was pioneering the idea back in the eighteen hundreds. They teach a whole class about it. The interesting thing is that new science will not work with magic, but according to the class textbook, science from back then would in certain circumstances. For instance, there was a study done on how a basic steam engine could be designed to never stop running. The magic gave it an endless supply of fuel, while the engine continued to operate on the fundamentals of early steam technology. I am not sure what to think about it, but I find it quite fascinating. Here is the really strange part, the name of the wizard does not show up in ANY textbook or history book that I can find. I sent a letter to Dumbledore asking about him and he said that he had never heard of him either and guessed that perhaps they got the name wrong in the book. His name was Hagelburt. If you get a chance could you swing by the Hogwart’s library and see if you can find anything on him?

Anyway, not to bore you. I am sure you did not want to hear about what new things I am learning. I just wanted to write you this letter to let you know, that I miss you. I know that must sound strange, as it has not been very long, but I do. I wish you could be here experiencing this with me. It seems so strange to be going on an adventure without you. Let me tell you, that it doesn’t feel the same at all. You probably have not even noticed that I am gone yet. Forgive me for being so silly about it. How is everyone doing out there? How are you? Are you still staying at The Burrow with the Weasleys? Well, I have to go, but I promise to write again soon. In case I forgot to mention it, I really miss you.

Sincerely,

Hermione

It was so good to hear from her. Harry promised himself that as soon as he was all settled in he would write back to her. He wondered if the pouch was a gift from Hermione. He reached out and lifted it. It was strangely heavy in his hand. He noticed a very small note attached to the drawstring. He lifted open the paper and read it.

You might need this.

~A friend~

How odd he thought. He opened the strings and peered inside. There was something inside, but it appeared to be wrapped up in a silken cloth. He turned the pouch upside down into his hand. After setting the pouch down, he slowly pulled the covering away and just about dropped it on the floor. It was a sparkling, blue sapphire that was roughly the size of Harry’s closed fist. He had never seen anything quite like it before. It was the deepest blue he had ever seen, but somehow he could still see through it. Even to his untrained eye, it was obvious that it had been finely cut by a master artisan. It appeared to be the closest thing to perfection that Harry was likely to see in an entire lifetime. He guessed that by holding it in his hand, it most likely doubled his entire fortune.

“Ooooooooh,” came a pleasant, but squeaky voice. “Teebel has seen great blue sparkly before, but it is pretty every time he is seeing it. Master is very lucky to have this thing. Teebel has been told that it is very important sparkly.”

Harry looked down at the lively house-elf and could not help but smile.

“So, Teebel is the name then?”

“Yes, I am being Teebel for most of my life. It is possible that when I was being less than four years in age, that I was not Teebel, but I am not remembering anything from that time, so I am not completely sure.”

Harry laughed and gently patted Teebel on the shoulder. Which was more difficult than it sounds, being that his shoulder was about as high up as Harry’s knee.

“You say that you have seen this before?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Teebel was seeing it when he was very young; have not seen it since then though. It is being called ‘The Eye of Narlroot’. It was made by very good muggle jeweler many, many years ago. A powerful wizard whose name was being Griltskin had it made after a nasty dragon was being killed near here. Dragon was named Narlroot and it was being told that it had eyes like blue sparkly. Griltskin was liking the dragon eyes so much that he had this sparkly cut to look like one of them. Rumor is saying that rough blue rock was found in belly of dragon, but when muggle cut it, this was what it was looking like. Much history is being in your hands Master Harry.”

Harry was completely flabbergasted. How on earth did he come in possession of this thing? Who would possibly want to send a priceless jewel like this to him? It was definitely not Hermione. She would have mentioned something like this in her letter. Plus, the handwriting was different.

“How curious,” Harry spoke quietly.

He re-wrapped the sapphire in the silk and then placed it carefully back into the pouch. He drew the string tightly and tied it. He then slipped it into his pocket. He would need to find a safe place to keep it.

“Teebel? How do you feel about freedom?”

Teebel immediately walked over to the coat rack and began slamming his head into it.

With tears in his eyes he cried out, “Master has only been being here for few minutes and already Teebel has gone and made him angry. Why would good master talk of freeing Teebel? Teebel is being very worthless.”

Harry shook his head and replied, “Teebel, please stop hurting yourself. We won’t talk anymore about freedom right now. Please don’t be upset.”

Teebel immediately cheered up and exclaimed, “Oh, Master Harry is liking Teebel again. I am so pleased. I am working very hard to keep home and gardens very nice until someone is coming to live here. Teebel is delighted to have someone here again. Now, I am not working hard for nobody. I am working hard for somebody.”

With that Teebel spun around and did a little dance. It was kind of sad for Harry to think about how long he had been living here alone and taking care of this empty manor. Something in Harry instinctively trusted Teebel. Harry would later find out just how well placed that trust truly was. Even among house-elves he was just about as goodhearted as they come.

“Teebel?”

The elf stopped dancing and happily looked up.

“Would you mind giving me a tour of Leakwood Manor and its grounds?”

Teebel was so happy that he started to cry.

--- ---

Harry had not realized how much time had passed. The house-elf was such a chatterbox when it came to the manor, that he had only seen the garden and two of the main floors of the manor. From what Teebel said, there were two more levels below as well. When Harry asked what was on the bottom floor, Teebel looked sad and quite nervous. He said very little, but told Harry that was not a place to go. It was the sad place and had been locked up for many years. He was not allowed to go down there, so if Harry wanted to see it, he would have to go on his own. When he realized how much it was upsetting the elf, Harry decided it could wait for another day. He also did not have a chance to see the family cemetery. For some reason, Harry felt a little uncomfortable going out there. He could not exactly put his finger on why, but he needed more time before he was prepared to witness that.

Harry had looked through the nine bedrooms in the house and decided that all three of the master bedrooms were simply too large for comfort. He ended up choosing a cozy room at the top of the northwest tower. The round room had a quaint fireplace in it, which Teebel had started up a small fire in. It warmed up the room nicely. Even though it was summer, the winds off the ocean made the nights a little cool. The window had an elegant shutter that Harry had closed when he first came in. The bed was a good sized feather down, poster bed. The sheets were soft and the royal blue, quilted blanket was icing on the proverbial bedroom cake.

There was even a small cubbyhole on the inside wall that had a clever magical enchantment on it. If it was empty then anyone could open it and put something inside. However, once something was inside of it, only the person who put it there could ever get it out. Harry took a quick moment to gently place the sapphire and its pouch inside of it.

Teebel practically squealed with delight when Harry had chosen this room. He explained that his great, great grandmother had slept here when she was young. That made the room even more perfect when he came to terms with the fact that he was sleeping in the same room as the person that he got his Leakwood bloodline from. He wondered what she was like and began to drift off with his thoughts. Just as he was falling asleep he distinctly heard a sweet voice whispering.

“Why are you sleeping in my sister’s bed?”

Harry’s eyes shot open, but the room was completely empty. He chuckled as he realized that he had one of those dreams you get just as you’re drifting off to sleep; where you hear or see things that are not really there. He started to fall back asleep. When he did, Harry had dreams throughout the night of a little girl whispering and singing soft lullabies.

--- ---

Harry awoke to Hedwig perched on the end of his bed. She had a small mouse, which was quite dead, dangling from her beak.

“Oh Hedwig! That is completely not what I wanted to wake up to this morning. Would you mind eating breakfast somewhere else?”

With a muffled, indignant squawk Hedwig turned and flew out his bedroom door. Harry looked at where she had been and saw a letter addressed to him. He rolled to the foot of the bed and snatched it up. He then flopped on his back and unrolled the crisp parchment. It was a letter from the last person he expected right now.

Harry,

I feel awkward about writing to you. In all the years we knew each other I’ve never done so in the past. However, I have no one else to turn to. First off, let me just say that I will do absolutely anything and everything you tell me. There is no sacrifice I am not willing to give. I know that at one time Ginny Weasley had feelings for you, so I thought maybe you would have some insight. Is there anything that I can do, anything at all to win her heart? I know that I should not be bothering you with this, but I’m desperate. I think about her all the time now and I just keep running over lunch together in my mind and all the things she said to me in my room. Whenever I close my eyes I still hear her voice and I feel the fool. Please, please tell me what to do. I’m begging you Harry.

Your Friend,

Neville

Wow, Neville really had it bad for Ginny. Harry still needed to write to Hermione anyways, so he thought he would spend breakfast time writing letters. It might be wise to send one to Mrs. Weasley so she does not worry and one to Ron as well. Harry groaned when he realized he would be spending the whole morning just writing letters. Well, what he had now was time. He had all the time in the world, so there was no excuse not to set aside some of it for the important people in his life.

He pulled himself out of bed and took the time to take a quick bath which Teebel had been kind enough to draw for him. When the elf was about to leave the room Harry brought up the idea of paying him for his work. Teebel’s mouth dropped open and then coldly informed Harry that he had never been so insulted in all his life. He did not work for something as vulgar as money. He did it, because it was his duty in life to serve. Harry quickly apologized and assured Teebel that he would not bring it up again. It was going to be an uphill battle trying to find a way to compensate the spry house-elf. He would have to mull it over for a couple days.

Harry made his way down to the breakfast nook and had ink, a quill and some parchment laid out. It was quite odd to live in a place that actually had a breakfast nook. He had never even heard of such a thing until now. When Harry asked Teebel if there was a lunch and supper nook, the elf laughed merrily. He then explained that there was no such thing as those. Apparently, you have breakfast in the breakfast nook; you take lunch out on the patio when it is warm and in the kitchen proper when it was not. Tea would be in the tea room, unless it was exceptionally nice, then you had it in the garden. Finally supper was always held in the dining room. Unless you were having a romantic evening and then you would have it out on the veranda, off of the third floor. It was the most ridiculous thing Harry had ever heard in his life. Why on earth would a person need so many different places to eat? He explained to Teebel that he was not going to follow protocol and would be eating in the breakfast nook every meal.

Harry liked it so much, because there was a small bay window looking out into the green forest. There were also two beautiful muggle paintings on the wall; one of his great, great grandfather and the other his great, great grandmother. They both looked so nice, but at the same time rather important. It made Harry feel good inside for reasons he could not explain. From what he understood the manor belonged to his great, great grandmother’s family and was part of her dowry when she married. Ever since then the blood relatives through her were the ones who inherited this delightful place. Teebel explained that his great grandmother lived here as well, but when her and her husband had Harry’s grandmother they eventually moved out into a more suitable living arrangement. Harry was quite confused by why that happened, but Teebel was able to explain it all, sort of...

Harry’s great, great grandmother was a witch, but all of her children were squibs. Their eldest daughter, Harry’s great grandmother, inherited the place when her mother passed away. She and her husband had children, but they also had no magical ability whatsoever. When a squib has a non-magical child then they are deemed a muggle by the wizarding world. The Leakwood family will had a clause written in it. It stated that no muggle could inherit the manor. The Leakwoods had nothing against muggles, but there were too many magical things ingrained into the manor and it was not appropriate for non-witches and wizards to be exposed to it. The family had politely, but firmly asked his great grandmother and great grandfather to leave, when it was discovered that their daughter, Harry’s grandmother, was officially a muggle. They had moved out when she was quite young, so Harry’s grandmother never knew about the magical heritage that ran through her bloodline and her parents hid that fact about their family from her. Which was why his grandmother and her husband were completely in the blind when they came to discover that Harry’s own mother was a witch. It also explained why Petunia would never have been allowed to inherit Leakwood Manor. It had to be through Lily Evans blood descendant, as long as they were born a witch or wizard, to inherit this place. Harry was just such a child and so here he is now. After Teebel had finished explaining it twice, Harry decided he had a headache and just accepted that he was the true heir and moved on.

After he had finished off the eggs, muffins and tea that was in front of him, Harry pushed the plates to the side and began the business of writing letters. The first one was going to be the hardest, so he started with that one.

Dear Hermione,

I miss you, too. It’s so interesting to hear what you are learning about. I hope that you will continue to write to me about all of these things. Getting to hear from you was wonderful and I definitely want regular updates. I am currently unable to swing by the Hogwart’s library for reasons you will read shortly.

The most interesting thing happened to me. I inherited an amazing home out in the countryside. Well, it’s not so much a home as it is a large manor. I have to tell you all about it. On my first day here I saw so many things it’s hard to know where to start. Well, the day kind of went like this…

Harry spent the whole morning writing furiously away. The only thing that caused him to stop for a moment was the distinct sound of a child crying. When he strained his ears to hear it, the sound was gone. Harry decided it must have been a cat mewing and was going to ask Teebel about it, but had already forgotten long before he got the chance to.

Harry stood in the center of the Leakwood Family Cemetery and just listened to the wind blow. He could feel the air curl and twist through his clothes. A storm was coming in from the ocean and would most likely arrive in a few hours. He could barely tear his eyes away from the beautiful statues. Each grave had an original stone or marble carving in place of a headstone. One was of a lovely woman with a book under one arm and a quill in the other. It read:

Gisella Leakwood “The Scholar” 1802 – 1884

Beloved daughter, Beloved wife, Beloved mother

“As the years pass us by,

and age comes to our weary limbs,

we begin to realize the simple truth.

When this life is left behind,

it is only who we are,

the love we have known and shared,

and the knowledge we have learned

that we carry with us into the next.”

Another statue was of a portly man laughing with his arms outstretched. It read:

Craiger Leakwood “The Jolly” 1793 – 1833

Beloved son, Beloved brother

“I have learned only this,

live each day as if it is your defining moment.

Whenever you have a chance,

laugh with all of your heart,

and people will always laugh with you.”

Harry suddenly felt connected to the world. These were the ancestors of his mother. Through them, perhaps he would come to know her. Harry looked up and saw the storm had already arrived. He strode quickly back towards the manor. From what Teebel told him, when storms came from over the ocean, the rain was almost always torrential. This storm was no exception and began to do just that shortly after Harry had ducked inside the main foyer. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and he began to feel energized. There was still a great deal of this place he had yet to explore. Today seemed like a good day to do just that.

He decided to start with the highest floor and work his way down. The rooms were filled with an eclectic collection of antiques, beautiful paintings and expert craftsmanship wherever your eyes could wander. The hallways were filled with ‘Everlast Candles’ that would light up whenever they sensed something nearby. They gave off a glow that added warm colors to all the nooks and crannies. One door grabbed Harry’s attention. The southeast tower had a long and winding stairway that led up to a single room. Harry came to the top and saw a rosewood door with delicate silver filigree etched throughout. He grasped the cool silver door latch and pulled the door open. A strange smell wafted out from the room. If Harry was right it was a cross between cinnamon, honey-clover and sulphur. It was both strange and somewhat out of place. The room had two windows in it that stretched from the floor to just a few feet from the top of the tower’s ceiling. They were narrow and had sheer, white drapes cascading down the entire length. They covered the outside view, but let in a soft white light that filled the room. There were strangely no candles in the room, but enough sunlight was still peeking through the storm to keep it well lit. In time that would most likely change as the lower, darker clouds were sweeping in.

The room had a small bed with white sheets and an off white comforter folded neatly atop the mattress. The head and baseboard were a slightly tarnished silver work that looked like sapling tree branches with delicate leaves dangling in regular intervals. On the other side of the room was a white marble sink that had a stoneware pitcher and basin set resting on top. There was also a white dresser with a swiveling, oval mirror perched in the center.

Harry walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. It was filled with old clothes that had been somehow preserved quite well, most likely by Teebel. He opened each of the drawers until he came to the last. Inside it was empty save for a small sky blue, cloth-bound book nestled in the back. He reached down and picked it up. There was a thin layer of dust on it that Harry carefully blew off. It had a single name stitched on the front, ‘Amelia’. There was no doubt that it was some sort of diary.

He opened it towards the end and began to randomly read excerpts from it.

…

‘Today was so cold and damp in my room. I told papa and he sent a house-elf up to cast a warmthening spell, so I could get some sleep. I seem to get tired real easy. I carried a small bucket of dirt from the garden and could not even get halfway to the house. I had to leave it, because it was just too hard.’

…

‘My left arm does not work anymore. I told papa and he picked me up and held me real close. I could feel him shaking. I think he was crying. It made me cry thinking that he was crying for me.’

…

‘I feel so tired. I wish I could walk around, but my legs won’t do what I tell them to anymore. Papa has been down in the cellar for six days without coming out. Mama says that he is working hard to try and help me. I wish he would not work so hard. I just want him to come and talk with me.’

…

‘I love my mama. I love my sister. I love my papa. I’m afraid of dying, because I won’t get to see them anymore.’

…

Harry noted that was the last entry in the diary. With reverence he returned the diary to the bottom drawer and closed it. He turned around, walked out and closed the door behind him. Harry would not return to this room for a long, long time.

--- ---

Harry was fiddling with the strange doorknob. It did not seem to turn the way a normal knob would. He even cast ‘Alohomora’ and it did absolutely nothing. It was not that it was locked; it was simply that he had no idea of how to open the door. Out of frustration, more than anything else, Harry yanked hard on the thing. To his surprise it pulled out, not unlike a queer little pinball machine. He held it for a moment and then released it. A sound of tiny bells started to go off from somewhere inside. After a moment, the sound of metal sliding through wood could be heard. Then the door opened inward and revealed the place that Teebel would not go. Harry had never seen anything like it. It was straight out of some mad scientist’s dreams. There was a bright yellow-red glow coming from the ‘Everlast Torches’ attached to each of the walls. It lit the room well, but gave a strange, eerie quality to it.

There was a myriad of tables along the wall edges. Each one held a different smattering of strange things. One had nothing but books, notebooks and loose paper scraps from one end to the other. Another table was filled with beakers and glass tubing that snaked through and around metal clamps and half-burnt candles. One, perhaps more curious than all the rest, appeared to have pieces of old machinery on it. Iron cogs and brass gears strewn atop various metallic shapes carelessly laid in no particular fashion.

All of this, though, paled in comparison to what was in the middle of the room. A massive metal pipe ran from ceiling to floor. It had to have been as big around as a hundred year oak. There were huge versions of the cogs and gears that were upon the worktable, surrounding it. Strange hoses made of copper and brass were interwoven and interconnected all around it, though strangely none of them touched the central pipe. Upon closer inspection the pipe did not seemed to be fastened, either to the ceiling or the floor. Harry had no idea of how such a thing was put here in the first place and what held it in place for all these years. An ominous looking lever was standing near it. Perfectly positioned to be grabbed from a standing position and thrown forward, possibly awakening this silent giant. What on earth could it all be for? Why is it here and who built it?

The only thing that Harry could think of was that it seemed as if it had just leapt off the pages of an old Jules Verne novel. It frightened Harry, but he also felt strangely drawn to it. What really would happen if he pulled that lever? If ever there was a time he needed Hermione right here by his side, this was it. Only her clever mind could fathom what this could possibly do. Harry walked over to the table covered in books and grabbed a red notebook that was set perfectly in the center of the disorganized chaos. The cover said, ‘Journal and Discourses of Heaglevert Leakwood’. He opened it up and he was transfixed. Inside it were dozens of drawings and illustrations, short essays on such topics as ‘the mechanics of magic’, ‘the arithmancy of science’ and “the transfigured steam engine’, along with hundreds of detailed notes and charts depicting the various stages of building some kind of perpetual machine. It made Harry dizzy just glancing through it.

It was too much to take in all at once. Harry quickly retreated from the room and grasped the notebook to his chest. The only thing he was sure of right now, was that whatever he had just discovered had been most likely forgotten for almost a century. Perhaps that was for the best. It could be a terrible weapon or some sort of doomsday machine. These thoughts made Harry shudder to his core. What kind of family were these Leakwoods anyway? Just as he asked himself that, he passed by a small wall mirror in one of the hallways.

“What kind of family are they? They’re my family. I’m the kind that they are. If that’s true then who am I?”

Harry began to run back up to the main floor. He was going so fast that he did not see Teebel trying to carry down the lunch dishes on the stairway. He ran straight into the small elf and the result was two broken dishes and a half glass of spilt milk. Teebel’s mouth was hanging open in utter terror.

“OH MASTER!! What have I done to you?! I was not looking and I caused you to run right into me! Please forgive Teebel, it will never happen again! I will go and punish myself immediately!”

“Teebel please calm down!” Harry shouted a bit louder than he meant to.

He calmed his racing heart and began to speak softly, “Forgive me Teebel. It was entirely my fault. I was upset and did not see you there. This mess is my fault and I will clean it up.”

Harry’s breathing was ragged and Teebel was staring dumbfounded and trembling. In one fell swoop Harry picked Teebel up off the ground and warmly embraced him. He patted him gently, put him back down and picked up the dishes and mess that had been strewn across the stairs. He then made his way down to the kitchen, mess in hand. Teebel stayed exactly where he was, bottom chin proverbially on the floor for over an hour before he regained enough presence of mind to move again. In the two hundred years he had been alive, no one had ever hugged him before. He was not sure that any house-elf anywhere had ever been hugged before by a human in any place or any time. One thing was for sure, not that it was any different before, but he actually made himself a solemn promise that from this moment on he would live and die for Harry Potter, the noblest of all wizards.

--- ---

Harry held his head in his hands sitting at the small table in the quiet breakfast nook. He had just finished dinner and decided that he desperately needed to talk to someone. Not just anyone, but one person in particular. He wanted to write something rational and thoughtful, but in the end it was neither.

Hermione,

You are my dearest friend. You have been in my thoughts a great deal the past couple of days. That’s not being entirely honest; you are in my thoughts all the time. It’s just been a little more intense lately. I know I wrote you and told you about my new home, but there’s so much more to tell you. Some good, some very sad, and some frightening. I really need your advice and more importantly your companionship. I need my best friend in the whole world to be where she has always been these past few years; by my side. I know how important this amazing learning opportunity is for you, so what I am about to ask is terribly difficult for me. I feel an awful guilt, but I’m too scared not to ask. Please leave the school in America and come and see me. The sooner the better. Right now would be good for me if that is convenient for you. I know that I will be deeply in your debt, but whatever I have to do, I’ll do it. Please, please come. I’m begging you.

Harry

The end of the letter sounded familiar to Harry for some reason, but right now he could not put his finger on it. He called to Hedwig and gave her strict orders to get this letter to Hermione as soon as possible. He needed to hear from her. He missed her.

--- ---

As Hedwig flew out into the countryside a strange fog rolled in off the coast. Unfazed Hedwig flew straight into it. Her friend made this letter sound very urgent and she would not rest until she safely delivered it into Hermione’s hands.

After a moment the white owl started to feel awfully tired. A sharp shake of the head did nothing to help. It was getting difficult to see, something that raised every alarm in her body, but she could barely keep her eyes open. Hedwig decided to land for a short moment and just nap long enough to refresh herself for the long journey. There was a small cave entrance just ahead on the edge of the shore. It seemed safe and comfortable almost as if she were being drawn toward it. She swooped in and landed awkwardly on the rocky floor. The small cavern was quite dark, but seemed safe enough. Within a second or two she was fast asleep.

A very tall and gaunt man stepped inside the cave just after her. His body was almost grossly thin and his old and tattered black suit seemed to just hang off his shoulders. His straggly white hair fell just down to his shoulders. His eye sockets were gaunt, but held two piercing hazel eyes that never seemed to sit still; always glancing about as if expecting something to happen. His spindly fingers carefully reached down and picked up the unconscious bird.

“Now listen to me,” came his low, hoarse voice, “you have done a wonderful job in delivering this letter to its destination. You will awaken in two days and return to your master knowing that you did just what you were asked to do. For now though, rest your weary owl bones.”

With a muted laugh he ripped the letter open and read it. He then pulled out his wand and with a quick jerk lit a fire in a small pit that had been previously dug. He then tore up the letter and threw it into the flames. Strangely enough in the exact same place that all of the letters Harry had written had ended up just a day before. With another jerk of his wand the man summoned an odd rocking chair near the fire. He slowly lowered himself into it and began rocking back and forth.

“So, Harry Potter – heir of the Leakwood family’s prized possession. How much longer before you discover the secrets hidden within that place? What will you do once you learn what it all is really for? I’ll tell you what you will do, because in the end I will leave you no choice. You are my tender little marionette and I intend to pull your strings and force you to dance to my little song. I will have what is my due and no one can stop me. Yes, I am sure you are very powerful to have defeated that foolish Voldemort, but I do not intend to directly confront you. That was his fatal mistake. I will simply stay hidden and push you into the dark corner I have so lovingly prepared for you. Dance my little fool, dance for old Griltskin.”

An eerie laughter poured out of the ocean side cave, but there was no one else there to hear it.

--- ---

Thousands of miles away a young woman shot up from a deep sleep. Sweat had caused her hair to stick to her neck and back. The past few nights she had the same nightmare. She could see Harry Potter searching through a foul place, desperately searching for something. Then a horrible light would flare up and out of the darkness a strange machine made of gears and hoses, spewing out steam, would come to life and then swallow him whole. She knew it was a ridiculous fear, but every time she woke up she felt scared for him. Each night made it harder and harder to ignore.

She counted off the days and realized that it had been a week and a half since she had first written to Harry and still no response. She had sent a second letter and still heard nothing from him. Harry could be forgetful, but this was not like him at all. She could not help but worry about him.

The only door in the room slowly opened and the light in the hallway made her eyes hurt.

“Hermione? Are you okay? You were making a lot of noise in your sleep and I got worried about you? Do you need me to get the nurse?”

“No, I’m okay… really. It’s just, well I think I need to leave,” Hermione replied.

“Leave? But what about all the classes you signed up for. I heard that you are here by invitation. That doesn’t happen very often. If you left now you would never get this opportunity again,” the young woman replied earnestly.

Hermione sighed and answered, “That is most likely true, but there are some things far more important then school. My friend is one of those things. I’m going to pack and head out first thing in the morning.”

The woman looked at Hermione for a moment and then promptly turned the light on. She walked in, started opening drawers and pulling all of the clothes out.

“Well? Are you just going to lie there are you going to help me, help you pack?”

If nothing else, Hermione had discovered some new friends while she was out here. Some of them she would even write to, to try and keep in touch. It was really nice, but she could not in good conscious stay here, even if there was the remotest chance that Harry was in any danger. He needed her, and that thought more than any other gave her life fierce direction.

Author’s Note: To those who were trying to remember if they had heard the name Griltskin before or not; indeed you have. Remember when Teebel was telling Harry about the origin of the sapphire? Check back in Chapter Three if you can’t recall.

Harry had read through the journal at least four times already. Some of the diagrams almost made sense to him. Though what their intended purpose was escaped him. The scientific essays were so far reaching and abstract that even on his best day they were little more than esoteric gibberish. Still, he had a hard time putting it down. The frustrating part was that the last five or six pages had been ripped out and so whatever conclusions this man had finally reached were lost. The charts and illustrations had him riveted. It was obvious that they were displaying various parts of ‘The Great Machine’, which is what the author used to reference the strange beast of a contraption in the large cellar below. From what Harry could tell there seemed to be a lot of references to something called the ‘Faultless Meniscus’.

“What on earth is a meniscus?” Harry mused to himself. “Isn’t that a piece of cartilage in your knee? What does that have to do with anything?”

It also made reference to something called ‘The Chamber’. It seemed that this was the centerpiece of the The Great Machine, but Harry saw no sign of any chamber when he was down there. Perhaps it was referencing the whole room. He decided to start all over and read it from the beginning again. Each time he did, a new piece of the puzzle became more evident. For now though his head was beginning to hurt and it was time to get up and stretch his legs.

As Harry began to walk towards the stairs to make his way down to the main floor, a small head popped around the corner.

“Master, I…”

“Teebel? Remember what I asked?”

“Um, yes of course. Err… Harry?”

“Yes, Teebel, what can I help you with?” Harry asked.

“There is someone here to see you. Would you like me to invite them inside?”

“Someone is here?” Harry knew who it was right away. “Of course, of course. I’ll be right down.”

Hermione must have gotten his letter. He just knew she would come. He had so much to talk with her about. He checked himself in the mirror to make sure that he had everything where it was supposed to be. After a cursory check and discovering that he still had two arms, two legs and a head on top, he decided that was good enough. Harry quickly made his way down the stairs and into the foyer.

Someone was here to see him, but it definitely was not Hermione. It was an odd looking man. He was wearing a large green top hat and had on a dark purple shirt and a very baggy pair of red corduroy pants. He was a bit heavy around the middle and had a very round face. At first guess, he appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties. Underneath the top hat was a mess of a hairdo. His curly locks were distinctly salt and pepper in color. He was casually leaning against a dark hued, wooden cane. The most noticeable thing was his warm smile beneath a very bushy, bicycle mustache.

Harry found it difficult to not smile in return. He stepped down and politely reached his hand out. The man beamed as he stuck his arm out and returned with a firm handshake.

“Hello,” Harry said unsure of himself, “I’m Harry. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you my neighbor?”

The man chuckled and answered, “I guess you could call me that. My name is Bilibaum. My friends… and neighbors call me Bili. I live about three miles to the south of here in our summer cottage. I heard from one of my house-elves that someone had moved into the old Leakwood place and I had to come and see for myself. What a shock to discover that the one and only Harry Potter lives here.”

Harry found it hard not to blush at the recognition by this lively gentleman.

“Would you like to come in for some tea?” Harry offered.

“Why that’s very kind of you. I would love to.”

Bili stepped forward in anticipation of following Harry. Harry turned around and began to make his way towards the tea room. He stopped for a moment to get his bearings and then after a second, remembered where exactly it was.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, “I’m still not sure where everything is in this place. It’s a bit larger than I’m used to.”

Bili laughed and said, “I’ve told my wife that exact same thing a dozen times or more, but she insists on living in the largest houses she can find. Though, I daresay your little home here would be more than enough to keep her from complaining.”

Harry laughed in response and escorted him to the tea room and offered him any seat that he thought most comfortable. There was a plethora of soft comfy chairs to choose from and Bili selected one near the largest window. Harry sat down in the chair next to it. After a moment Harry realized he had forgotten something.

“I, uh, forgot to check with Teebel. Hold on just a moment.”

Before he even stood up Teebel appeared with a large silver tray loaded with two teacups filled with some piping earl grey and a dash of sweet cream. Also, numerous biscuits, scones and shortbread cookies were present as well.

“Thank you Teebel,” Harry sounded relieved.

“Of course,” the elf responded with a glorious bow.

Harry and Bili both sipped their tea and enjoyed the view of the Leakwood garden from the comfort of the indoors. Teebel quickly dismissed himself and stayed far enough away to not intrude, but close enough in case Harry needed him.

“Well, young Master Harry. You are both a spectacularly quiet neighbor and a well-mannered gentleman as well. I do apologize for dropping in unannounced, but my wife was going to have an aneurysm if I did not come and discover who and what was going on over here. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Harry said truthfully. “I had no idea I had any neighbors. It’s very nice to know that I do. I have a friend coming to visit at some point. Perhaps when she arrives you and your wife would like to have dinner with us?”

At least Harry hoped he had a friend coming to visit. Still no word from Hermione, but he was holding on to the idea that she would arrive sooner than later.

“That is quite a wonderful offer. I know my wife would love to meet the famous Harry Potter and his friend. You just send us an owl whenever they arrive and let us know what night would be good for you and we’ll make our schedule fit around it.”

“I will,” Harry promised. “So, you come and visit here during the summer then?”

Bili sighed, “We do. I wish we could just live out here, but my dear wife insists that we spend equal time amongst all of our residences. Damnably inconvenient if you ask me, but I certainly don’t wear the pants in this marriage.”

Harry could tell that letting his wife run the show, really did not bother Bili all that much. He just complained mostly for the sake of conversation.

“Did you know any of my family?” Harry asked.

“Well, I’m sorry to say that I did not. This manor was sitting empty for much longer than any of the folks, wizards or otherwise, have been alive around here.”

The two of them made pleasant conversation for about a half hour when Bili gently brought up that his wife would become agitated if he was gone too long. Harry stood up and they shook hands again. Teebel quietly stepped up to escort the guest to the front door. Just before he had left the room he turned back to Harry.

“You know Harry. There has been some strange goings on around these parts over the past few years. If you decide to leave your property and wander around, do be quite careful.”

“I will,” Harry answered.

With that Harry’s guest allowed himself to be escorted to the front hall and after stepping onto the front patio, apparated off. Harry made note that it was probably not polite to apparate out while inside of someone’s house that you are a guest of. He put that little piece of etiquette into his memory and stored it away.

--- ---

The manor felt a bit empty during the early evening. True, Teebel was around, but he was never happy just sitting around. House-elves get uncomfortable if they are not up and about doing one thing or another. It was nice that he had a neighbor and he had stopped by, but Harry was craving close companionship. He had written to Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Neville and none of them had replied yet either. He knew it was summertime and everyone was busy doing their own thing, but it would be nice to get a short note of one kind or another.

He shrugged his shoulders and decided that he would explore some more. He still had not seen all the rooms in this place yet and longed to learn more about it. The manor seemed to have almost a life of its own and it was a life that begged to be noticed. Harry stood up and noticed the red notebook on the end table. Heaglevert Leakwood? Who exactly was that anyways? That name was not out in the family cemetery. Why would that be? For some reason, he began to think of eating something in the breakfast nook. He really was not hungry after already eating dinner, so why did that come to mind?

Like a bolt it struck him. He remembered where he had seen the name before. He ran as quickly as his feet could take him and burst into the comfy nook and stared hard at the two paintings. Sure enough, there was the paintings of his great, great grandfather and great, great grandmother, Heaglevert and Mildred Leakwood. So, the inventor-scientist of the family was his great, great grandfather. The question remains is why would a wizard like him, become so fascinated with blending science and magic. Indeed, what would drive the noble looking fellow in the painting to such an extreme?

Harry tried to think back to what Teebel had told him. He remembered that these two people had children that were both squibs. Then their children also had non-magical children; which ultimately forced them to leave this place. So, what happened that would cause him to embrace this strange and unorthodox way? Did it have something to do with them being squibs? Was it some sort of machine that could make a non-magical person suddenly become a witch or a wizard? That seemed unlikely, because it was not until the next generation of children came along that it would affect their ability to stay here. It was his great grandparents that had to leave, not Heaglevert and Mildred. He just could not figure it out. Maybe if he could just learn what the final purpose of The Great Machine was, then all his questions would be answered.

Harry put the notebook down on the table and scratched his head. He would have to be content that he had plenty of time to unravel these mysteries. There was no doubt that he was going to call this place home now. This is where he belonged and nothing would ever take it away from him.

--- ---

Meanwhile, in a much more familiar place there was a soft knock on the door. A young man waited patiently outside, still trying to find the right words to say. After a moment the door swung open. He had wished that Harry would have responded to his letter by now, but he simply could not wait any longer. He just had to tell Ginny how especially wonderful she is. She was a very important and wonderful young woman and he wanted to make sure that she knew it. So, he took it upon himself to come and tell her just that.

“Why hello Neville,” Molly Weasley cried, “it’s so wonderful to see you. Come in, come in.”

“Actually, I was here to see if Ginny was home. I was wondering if I might speak to her,” he replied bashfully.

“Oh, I see… oh dear. She is home, but now might not be the best time,” Mrs. Weasley said cautiously.

“Of course,” Neville said quickly, “she’s probably busy. I’ll come back another time.”

“Well, it’s not that she’s exactly busy, it’s just that she’s... with someone right now.”

“Oh,” Neville said worriedly.

“Apparently, Draco decided to stop by before he left on his trip to France. I just about set a curse on him, but Ginny insisted that I not kill him, so… I didn’t. They’re just outside in the garden around back. If you’d like to wait…”

“Um, no, that’s alright… she… Ginny… she wouldn’t want to see me anyways. I’ll just, um, go home.”

“Are you sure Neville? Well, I’ll at least be sure to tell her you stopped by,” Molly replied feeling very badly.

“No! … I mean no, thank you. I’d rather she didn’t know. She really wouldn’t want to know. Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley. It was very nice to see you again.”

“It was lovely to see you dear. Please take care of yourself.”

Neville turned around and walked away. His stomach was tied in horrible knots and his throat had gone totally dry. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not seem to swallow. He kept on walking, trying hard to pretend that the stinging in his eyes was not from tears.

--- ---

Hermione had just about fallen down when she traveled by floo powder to a friendly little tavern in Gillingham. She regained her balance and took a look around. There were almost two dozen people drinking ale, singing and laughing. This was obviously the tavern to be at for the local wizards and witches. Ron and Luna insisted this was the only way to get to Harry’s new home. She would have to find her own way there from here. She dearly hoped that someone would be able to point her in the right direction. A pretty, young woman walked up to her with a smile.

“Pleased to meet you,” she spoke loudly to be heard over all the noise, “what can I bring you?”

“Well, I’m really looking for directions. I was told that Harry Potter came through here awhile back and I was trying to find him.”

“Harry Potter! ‘The’ Harry Potter! I’m pretty sure I’d remember if he had come through here. I haven’t seen him.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied disappointedly, “he inherited a home near here and I was told this was the best way to get to Leakwood Manor.”

“Oh, blimey! That young fellow was Harry Potter! I feel like such a dolt. I guess I expected that if I met him that he would be around ten feet tall and have a lightening bolt come right out of his forehead and slay anybody in the area who was of questionable character.”

She let out a boisterous laugh and announced to the barkeep of their stupidity in not recognizing The-boy-who-lived. After sharing, she turned back to Hermione and gave careful instructions on how to get to the manor. Hermione traded in a handful of wizarding money for muggle money and quickly left the tavern. She then made her way to the muggle train station and bought a ticket.

The train was quite empty this time of day and she had a whole cart to herself. She sat there nervously waiting to stop off at the little town just a few miles away from Harry’s inheritance.

She was both worried and highly agitated at Harry. Why on earth would he have not sent a letter to her, telling her about this manor? Was he too busy with his new life to even send a note of some kind? The more she thought about it, the more she decided he had better be in some kind of peril. If not, then he would be when she got there. Did she mean so little to him, after all was said and done, that he would exclude her from this important change in his life? The thought made her feel kind of sick inside. She found it odd that she was really starting to hope that he was in some kind of trouble. The alternative was a much scarier proposition to her.

It had been nice to see Ron again. He and Luna seemed to really be having fun. If they were a couple, they had not let on about it, but it sure was obvious they had a thing for each other. Hermione thought it would be nice if things worked out between them. Ron deserved to have someone special in his life. So, did Harry for that matter, but the thought of him having someone special in his life made her feel uncomfortable for some reason. His happiness was very important to her, but she decided he should be happy without having someone on his arm. With a sigh she waited until it was time to get off at her stop.

--- ---

Something strange stirred inside of Harry’s mind. He started to think more about the diary he had found in the room up in the southeast tower. It was such a sad little diary. She sounded quite young, by the way she wrote and it had been obvious that she was afflicted with something and he could only guess that it had resulted in her losing her life. The thought made him a bit melancholy, but also seemed to add a kind of humanity to the lives of those people who lived here. They had known happiness, success, wealth and perhaps some power, but at the same time they had their share of births, deaths and tragedies just like everyone else. Somehow, it made them all much more real and close. He hated to admit it, but he identified with tragedy. He had seen enough of it in his life to know how it could affect someone.

When he was ready he would go back to that room. Sit down on the edge of that beautiful bed and read that girl’s diary from beginning to end. He felt drawn to her and wanted to know her whole story. The same blood that ran through her body ran through his. Again, the word ‘connected’ entered his mind. Each person he came to know here gave him one more connection to his past and where he came from. Each life that became more clear and real to him, made his own life seem more complete.

These same emotions were the ones driving him to understand what had been going on in the cellar. He needed to know, so he could know what made his great, great grandfather tick. Ultimately, he wanted to know what had become of his grandmother and grandfather. Once he knew more about them, then in turn he would know more about his own mother. Step by step, Harry was becoming a whole person and he never felt more sure that he was in the right place at the right time.

“Who ever thought I would wind up here?” Harry announced to an empty room.

Harry touched the notebook with his left hand and smiled, “And you? I know your name and that you’re my great, great grandfather, but what I really want to know is who exactly you are?”

Harry’s head snapped up and looked around the room. There was no one there. He stood up and walked around to be sure. He even called out to Teebel, but there was no one. When he convinced himself that he was alone, he quietly walked out and decided to find where the elf was at; just to check on him and see how he was doing. Of course, it was mostly to not be alone. However, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he was quite sure he heard a voice whisper, “He’s my papa.”

--- ---

Griltskin had once again hidden himself inside his little rocky, seashore cave. He was spending more time here than any other place he had stayed at since the old days. He had long ago lost the ability to blend in to society. The old swamp hag’s curse still haunted him. He thought for sure that eventually he would be allowed to die, but that day never came. He even threw himself at the aging dragon Narlroot. Just as he had hoped he had been eaten and swallowed by the creature. It made know difference. He was still alive inside of the beast’s great belly. While he was in there he had discovered the raw sapphire that the thing had swallowed long ago. As with all jewels in the rough, it was anything but recognizable beyond being a dull, dark blue rock. Still, it was all there was to do; to just hold onto the thing and see what it might turn out to be once he got free.

Being digested was quite painful, but what could he do, except wait to be processed and then defecated out. Then the strangest thing happened. A noble son of the Leakwood family heard what had happened to the old wizard and decided to rescue him for some forsaken reason. Gathering a large group of wizards the dragon was slain and he had been freed from his prison. Griltskin did not thank Craigen Leakwood, but Craigen knew him well enough not to hold his breath for any words of gratitude. Craigen knew full well the curse that had been placed on him and why, but still the Leakwood boy felt sorry for him. Sadly enough, he was the closest thing to a friend Griltskin ever had. Not that it meant anything to the cold-hearted wizard, but nevertheless it was the truth.

The one thing he had become most aware of was how strangely beautiful the dragon’s eyes were. So much so, that when he discovered that the rock he had was actually a huge sapphire, he immediately decided to have it cut to look just like Narlroot’s piercing orbs. The only jeweler in the area was a muggle and so he paid the man to do the work. The thing practically shaped itself the jeweler exclaimed after showing Griltskin the end result. It truly was breathtaking; however like all things in his life he eventually tired of it and gave it to one of his brother’s grandsons who had somehow managed not to greatly irritate him during his life. Something, very few of Griltskin’s family could ever lay claim to. Even to this day, he had no idea of what had finally happened to it. Just another ‘thing’ that had come and gone in his long, bitter life. Now, all he thought of and all he wanted was the sweet release of death. Each year he would grow a little thinner and a little taller. Even he recoiled at his own appearance. He was no longer human, but nor was he something else.

Only now did he realize his terrible error. The Eye of Narlroot had some very interesting properties, and with it he might be able to find a cure for his curse. However, somehow it had wound up in Harry Potter’s possession. The Leakwood Manor and surrounding grounds were protected with very old and very powerful charms; preventing him from simply going in and killing Potter and retrieving the jewel. So, here he waited, hatching his dark little plan. Pulling all the right strings, at just the right times. Soon, he would have what he wanted and he was not above sacrificing whatever or whoever got in his way.

Harry was mesmerized by the myriad of objects lying upon the table. He tried as hard as he could to avoid the cellar, but felt a nagging feeling that it could not be a machine for evil. Not if it was created by his great, great grandfather. So, here he was touching each brass and iron cog and gear. It had taken a long time, but he finally realized that the parts on the side table were merely a model. A mock up of The Great Machine which if he put together properly, would show him what the real thing was supposed to look like. The thing he could not figure out was how could these complex pieces come together in the shape of the large, but rather plain looking pipe in the middle. Aside from a few large gears and metal tubing, the things in front of him bore no resemblance to the monstrosity in the center of the room.

In a room down the hall he had discovered Heaglevert Leakwood’s machine shop. A large metal lathe, a forge, a variety of metal cutting tools were all at his fingertips. They meant nothing to Harry and so the room was merely a passing curiosity. This room, the one he was in now, amid the workings of a genius or possibly a madman, this is what he needed to comprehend or perhaps to conquer. The secret of his family’s far gone past was holed up in this strange place. A room where a wizard dabbled in the forbidden arts of science locked in a twisted laboratory from the Age of Steam.

“Where are you Hermione?” Harry said out loud. “Why haven’t you come yet? I need you to help me unravel this mystery.”

Then a strange thing began to happen; Harry closed his eyes with his hands draped across the miniature fragments. He heard a voice, possibly come from inside his head or somewhere very close by. Simultaneously frightening and yet oddly alluring. The voice was as sweet as an angel, and as disembodied as sanity is to the insane. It was like hearing a child sing through a suffocating liquid of darkness. He strained to hear her, for she was so quiet, but at the same time when she spoke it was as real and demanding as only a child can be.

“Let me show you,” she whispered.

Harry’s eyes still closed tightly felt like his hands took on a life of their own. Suddenly the pieces felt strangely familiar and the diagrams in the red notebook seemed to make perfect sense. A moment of clarity like no other he had ever felt.

“Don’t be afraid,” her voice said somewhere near his left ear.

He began to pick up a piece and set it aside, then another he would bring closer to him. One he would pick up and arrange just so, and the next he would gently press into place. Like a child with a set of wooden blocks he began to build what he saw in his mind. There were so many pieces and the process of sorting through them and putting them in their proper place was exhausting and caused his wrists to become sore and his elbows to cramp. He imagined all of the objects and guessed there were over three hundred. Finding a gear and its mate and clicking them into place took what seemed forever.

“I can help you,” she said with determination, “please… trust me.”

For a reason that he could never explain to his dying day, he did trust her. He trusted her like no one he had ever put his faith in before. Only one other ever shared that same level of implicitness, but she was not here right now. He wanted her to be, but for now he had to do this on his own. When she came, and she would come, he would share everything he had seen and done in this old manor with her.

“Who are you?” the voice asked, “Why are you here?”

“I’m Harry. I’m the great, great grandson of Heaglevert Leakwood. I came here, because this is my home. I’ve been looking for it, for such a long time,” Harry spoke with absolute truth.

“You are related to papa? … … … Then we are related Harry… You tell me that you have been looking for this place? … I will share my secret with you then… I have been waiting for a very long time. I was not sure what for; until I saw you walk inside this house for the first time. Now I know… I have been waiting for you.”

“Why have you been waiting?” Harry asked, his eyes still closed and his tired hands still furiously piecing the brass and iron model together.

“I don’t know. I was scared to leave. Papa and mama and my sister all lived here. If I left, then how would they find me?”

“Did they find you?” Harry asked.

There was a sad and terrifying moment of silence. Then quiet sobbing filled the room.

“No… they could not see me… they could not hear me… you are the first to find me.”

“What is your name?”

Through tears her answer struck him as both a call of fate and a terrifying possibility that he could not avoid, no matter what he might try or do.

“I’m Amelia. You are in my papa’s cellar. You are the first to find my papa’s Great Machine. He said it would change the world, but he had to hide it, because all the witches and the wizards would not understand it. He said they would fear what it would mean and what it could do. He could not finish it before he died so his dream never came true. That’s all changed now Harry. You and me, we will finish papa’s machine. We will change the world together.”

Harry recoiled his hands in pain. He had worked so hard and so intensely that his muscles were cramping up from the exertion.

“Oh! I am sorry Harry. I did not realize we were trying so hard. It can wait. We have time. Go and sleep. I will find you tomorrow. I need to go and rest myself. I still get so tired if I have been up and about for too long.”

Her presence left the room. Harry opened his eyes, but the room had only one occupant and that was himself. He walked out feeling shaken. Things were going to be very different from now on. He was not sure why, but his thoughts went out to Hermione yet again. Her wisdom and patience would be an invaluable tool. Harry had convinced himself that she was going to make everything work out right. She had always done that in the past and he was confident this would be no exception.

Something had gone very wrong back when Heaglevert attempted this machine. The proof was the torn out pages at the end of the notebook. What had his ancestor discovered and why was he unable to finish the work? If the machine really was something evil then he was convinced that his great, great grandfather would have destroyed the whole notebook and most likely everything in the cellar along with it. That was not what had happened at all. Instead he left behind all the clues necessary to eventually pick up where he had left off. So, it was not the machine that had gone wrong, it was what Heaglevert had discovered at the very end. So, he erased the ending and left all as it was, in hopes of someone coming along and rewriting that ending, the way it was supposed to be. And Harry was just the wizard to do it.

--- ---

There was a loud commotion coming from behind The Burrow. The screaming was so piercing and shrill that Neville could hear it from around front. If memory of that particular screaming voice served correctly then a one, Ginny Weasley was behind that powerful voice. He wiped the tear on his cheek and shook his head to throw off the weepiness from his mind.

Curiosity was just too much for him to ignore what he was hearing. So, around the house he went. As he poked his head around the corner of The Burrow he saw a most peculiar sight. There was Ginny waving her wand to and fro, yelling at Draco Malfoy. Draco seemed to be paying more attention to the wand than anything Ginny might have been saying. Neville was able to understand the conversation from here.

“So, what you’re trying to say is that NOW it matters that I’m not a wealthy witch?! Why didn’t that seem to bother you back when you were trying to kiss me in the Hogwart’s Cemetery, HUH?! You are so pathetic! I ought to hex you right here and now! You give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

You want to know why I’m bringing three Slytherin girls instead of you, besides the patently obvious?” Malfoy asked with venom in his voice, “Then I’ll tell you. It took you months to even get to the point where you would let me kiss you and even then you made me work like hell for it. No offense, but you’re just not worth it. You’re too prude for my liking. I want a hot-blooded girl who is not afraid to put a little passion on her sleeve. Your blood runs as cold as ice and let me tell you something Ginny Weasley; this guy can do so much better than you. I’ve got two women who are willing to do just about anything and a third who ‘will’ do anything to land a prize like myself. So, you wanted to know why and now you do. Let me tell you something, you poor excuse for a full-blood. You could never be enough witch to be with me!”

Ginny’s mouth dropped wide open. During the whole ugly exchange Neville had, without realizing it, crept forward into plain view. Ginny saw him out of the corner of her eye.

“Neville?”

“Oh bloody hell, what’s that prat doing here?” Draco said rolling his eyes.

“I, uh, well I was just… here to see Ginny. I was just going.” Neville replied turning around ready to bolt.

“Neville, you stay right where you are!” Ginny yelled.

He froze and slowly turned back around.

“You think I have no passion Draco Malfoy! NO PASSION!”

Ginny marched straight up to Neville grabbed him by the lapels and planted a deep kiss on the completely shocked boy. Her hands ran behind his head and pulled him as close as he could possibly be. He felt things pressed against his body that he had never felt before. His mind was reeling and he felt as high as a kite.

Ginny pulled away and yelled, “Or how about this!”

With that she jumped up and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and her legs around his waist. She pushed her body against him in ways that should definitely not have been done in public. Under any other circumstances Neville might have called attention to this, but with Ginny’s tongue down his throat it was hard to get a comment in edgewise.

Then Neville remembered where he was and who was here. This was not his wildest fantasy coming true, this was a woman scorned, acting out against her ex-boyfriend. This was not her passion for him, but instead merely a transference of her passion for Malfoy being played out in a fit of anger. He was less than a friend here; he was nothing more than a pawn in a very ugly little game. His heart sank and he slowly opened his eyes. Ginny’s were not even closed; she was gazing with hatred at his old nemesis. He pulled away from her kiss, but she barely even noticed. He could see her mouth begin to open, surely with words of disdain about to be poured out towards Malfoy. He cut her off with a softness in his voice that made her pause.

“Ginny… you are the most special person in the whole world. I came here to tell you that. I’ve cared about you for a very long time now. Right now though, you are hurting me in ways that I never knew possible. So, I think I’ll go home now.”

With that she slid down off of him. Her eyes stared straight into his as she realized what she had just done. Then he did something he never knew he had in him. He turned to Draco, whose mouth was hanging wide open at the time.

“You, sir, are a complete arse. I hate you so much that if I thought I could get away with it, I would strangle you where you stand and hide the body so no one would ever find it. If you think I’m kidding then do me a favor and stop by my house later and I’ll show you exactly how serious I am.”

He then turned to Ginny and said, “And you. You may be the prettiest thing I have ever seen in my life, but don’t you ever use me as a way to hurt another person ever again, even if it is that blonde excuse for a human being. If I want to confront him in one way or another, it will be on my terms. Do you understand me? ... By the way, that was the first time I ever kissed a girl before… it was nice. It would have been nicer if my first kiss was from someone who actually wanted to kiss me though, and not as a tool in your lover’s quarrel. You completely ruined it for me.”

He pulled out his wand and apparated out of there. He had made his stand and before he lost his nerve and broke down crying in front of both of them, he decided a quick exit was in order. He wondered if that was the last time he was ever going to see Ginny Weasley.

--- ---

Hermione had found Harry’s manor. It was nothing like she had expected. It was fairly run down and the grounds around it were in a state of awful disrepair. Most of the windows were boarded up and the ones that were not, the glass had obviously been broken out for many years. She approached it cautiously, not sure exactly what to expect. She noticed a small garden that was now nothing more than a few rows of long dead scrubs and weeds. The front door was not even on its hinges. Instead it had been propped up and held in place by a couple of rotted wooden planks. She climbed up the crumbling stone stairway and caught a glimpse of the inside through a large gap in the entryway. Leaves and dirt had blown in and covered the entry hall. She could even make out a few beams of sunlight filtering in from the ceiling. A tell-tale sign that the roof was mostly non-existent. Then an acrid smell hit her nose and caused it to wrinkle up.

She grabbed the end of a tarnished knocker on the top of the door and began to rap loudly. She then called out Harry’s name. There was, however, no response. She called out again, but still nothing. She decided she could probably slip through the gap and peek around inside. Trying not to get her clothes too dirty she wriggled in and began looking for some signs of life. As far as she could tell, there did not appear to be any evidence of someone coming and going from here in many years.

There was a chipped and battered marble grand staircase going up to the second floor. For lack of a better plan she began to climb them. The steps were a bit unwieldy as layers of dried mud and decaying organic matter covered them. Holding on to what was left of the rail she finally arrived at the top. It led to an open archway as an entrance to what once was likely a large dining hall. The only thing in the room was a long, wooden table whose finish had long since been rubbed away. Entering the large room, she called out again to Harry. Her voice echoed from one end to the other.

After trying to decide what to do next, a small door on the east side of the room slowly opened. A petite figure wrapped in a faded green cloak emerged. The whole body was covered and not even the smallest hint of their face was showing. The person seemed to be shuffling their feet and each step was agonizingly slow. This was definitely not Harry, so who could it be? She was about to call out to let them know she was their, but the person talked first.

“Dearest? … Is that you? … Where have you been? I’m a bit hungry, could we eat something?”

Hermione realized that the person could not see her and though the voice was a bit raspy and weary, it was definitely a woman. She knew that if she did not approach this with the utmost of care that she would frighten her.

“Hello. I apologize for intruding, I am merely looking for a friend of mine,” Hermione said in her most non-threatening voice.

The woman did not answer for a moment and had pulled her hands up to her chest in concern.

“What do you want?” the woman asked with fear in her voice.

“I am so sorry. I did not mean to upset you. I am looking for my friend Harry. Is he here?”

“I’m sorry who?” the woman replied.

“Harry. Um, Harry Potter.”

“I… I don’t know any Harry Potters. It is just the two of us here. You should come back when my dearest returns. Perhaps he knows your Harry Potter.”

Hermione could tell a lot of things from this dilapidated manor house. First off, there was no doubt that it was built and lived in by magic folk at one time or another. The fact that this woman was living here, but never heard of Harry, proved that she had indeed been living a sheltered life. Hermione recognized that she had quite overstayed her welcome and decided it best to leave.

“I’ll do that then,” Hermione said reassuringly, “I’ll come back later and ask after Harry. Please forgive my barging in.”

“Oh… do please wait for just a minute. I am quite blind and my dearest gave the servants the week off. I don’t know my way to the kitchen. Would you perhaps be willing to find something to eat in there? I’m not sure how long it will be and I must admit I am a bit famished. I have no doubt you will find a larder full of foodstuffs. You could get something for both of us and we could eat a spot of lunch together.”

Hermione felt a bit out of place here. Something told her that the woman was not exactly aware of how long it had been since any house-elves had come within a ten mile radius of this place. She also decided that she did not care to be the one to try and explain that to her. So, she made a pretense of finding the kitchen and promised the grateful woman she would return shortly. After walking a ways down a side hallway, she simply conjured up a platter of cheese, small sandwiches and a variety of juices. She then returned to the large dining hall. There the woman stood exactly where Hermione had left her.

After sizing the situation up, Hermione transfigured a couple of chunks of wood into a pair of suitable chairs. She then walked over to the woman and helped her sit at the table. She then sat down herself and announced what she had ‘found’ for their lunch.

“Oh, dear me,” the woman exclaimed, “where are my manners. It’s just we haven’t had guests in such a long time. My name is Colette, and who might you be?”

Hermione blushed, “Of course, forgive me for not telling you that first thing. My name is Hermione.”

“Well, it’s simply wonderful to have a woman of your obvious wealth and stature visiting our home.”

Realizing even more of this woman’s situation, Hermione played it up. They conversed over lunch and she played the part of understanding, wealthy socialite. It seemed to bring a great deal of comfort to Colette and Hermione was glad to offer it.

“You must be terribly warm in the cloak. Could I get you something more comfortable to change into?” Hermione offered.

“Ah, yes, well you see… I have been ill of late. I get cold so easily that it quite suits me. Plus, my dearest informed me that my physician would go absolutely insane if I were to risk catching a chill in my condition. You understand don’t you?”

“Of course,” Hermione said hurriedly, “it would be absolutely frightful for you to not follow such sound advice. If I were you, I certainly wouldn’t be so foolish as to not have it on at all times.”

Colette sounded quite relieved at Hermione’s response and replied, “Yes, you are so right; tempting fate would be utterly preposterous.”

Hermione was relieved that the uncomfortable moment had passed. She knew that she was probably setting herself up with the question, but she wanted to know as much information as she could about Colette’s circumstances. The worst had come to light; whatever afflicted this lonely woman was beyond even the capabilities of the staff at St. Mungos, nothing else would explain why she led this sad life.

“You said you were looking for your friend?” Colette asked.

“Yes, yes. He apparently moved here, I mean near here recently. Are you sure you don’t know him?”

“Well, the name means nothing, but I do remember my dearest said that we have a new neighbor at the old Leakwood Manor. He went and visited him just a few days ago and said he seemed like quite the pleasant young man. Is it possible that would be whom you are looking for?”

Hermione began to laugh, “Oh that explains it. I thought this was Leakwood Manor.”

“Oh dear,” Colette started to laugh as well. “The manor is just a couple miles north of here. This is our home, the Kettlehorn Estate. It is our summer cottage that we visit every year. You must tell me what you think.”

Hermione choked back and answered with all the enthusiasm she could muster, “It is the loveliest estate I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying lunch at. And I am not just saying that either.”

The sentence was true to the last word. Hermione had never been in any other ‘estate’, no less had lunch at, so she was able to say it without too much guilt on her conscience. Colette seemed quite animated and happy at her compliment, although she could only guess for the most part as it was difficult to read someone’s emotions when you cannot even see their face.

“You must promise to come and visit me again,” Colette said enthusiastically.

“I promise that I will,” Hermione said with a smile. “Can I help you to somewhere before I leave?”

Colette asked to be escorted to the sitting room. Hermione took her there and navigated the best she could with the rough directions that were provided to her. At last she stumbled upon it. It was the nicest kept of all the rooms she had seen. She guessed that Colette and her husband, or lover, or whomever it was living with her, spent all their time here. She sat Colette down and conjured up a bit of tea for her before heading out. Colette again insisted that Hermione come and visit her. Hermione was not about to refuse and assured her again that she would.

While Hermione was starting to leave the room the woman dropped a small handkerchief, and began to feel around the floor for it. Hermione offered to help and picked it up. When she handed it to Colette a small section of the cloak fell away revealing a portion of her face. It took everything Hermione had to not gasp. Her face was terribly disfigured and the one eye she could see was sunken and had drained to a completely pink color. There was no visible iris or pupil at all. Whatever curse this poor woman carried had deeply ravaged her. Hermione felt the sting of tears in her eyes as she said goodbye and quietly left.

--- ---

Hedwig flew into the window closest to Harry. He was grateful that the owl had returned, but was bitterly disappointed that Hermione had not written back. Maybe she really was not going to come. He thought it strange that she did not even bother to send a reply back explaining why. He sighed; maybe he was being too hard on her. With the way she throws herself into her studies, she probably just did not have time to write him. Though, the more he thought about it the more depressed he got.

He remembered how when they danced their second dance at the 7th year Yule Ball, her hair smelled lightly of nutmeg. He laughed to himself, wondering how on earth he could remember something like that, but he could never seem to remember he had a paper due in potions, or a project due in charms. He would have given anything to smell nutmeg right now. Just imagining it made him miss her even more. He looked out the window and saw the sun just beginning to hide behind the tallest trees in the forest. It would be twilight in an hour or so. He never admitted it to anyone, but he came quite close to giving her a quick kiss on the lips at the end of that night, but lost his nerve and settled for a friendly hug instead. He sort of regretted that, but what could he do? That was all in the past now and he had to get used to the fact that everyone was getting on with their lives.

Even he had found something new to occupy his time with. He was about halfway finished with the mockup of The Great Machine. Maybe tomorrow he would get the gumption to go back and try and finish. Thinking about that made him go over the events that had happened earlier. The voice of a young girl had definitely spoken to him. She even helped him piece together the model. He was not sure how, but she was able to guide his hands when he closed his eyes and let her. Then she had complained of being tired, just like she had in her diary. How does a ghost get tired? If that really was what Amelia had become. If so, then how come he could not see her? What happened to her?

Which brought him back to thinking about Hermione. She would be able to figure it out, quick as a flash. He was excited when he had convinced himself that she was going to come. That feeling, however, had now since passed. He would have shown her the machine and then taken her to the library on the second floor. If she thought Hogwart’s had a good selection, she would be blown away by the amazing volume of books that the Leakwoods had collected throughout the generations they lived here.

Sometimes, when he would walk past it, he could almost see her honey-colored hair hanging in her face while trying to read some tome that was so big that she had to stand up to turn the page. He laughed at the thought, but then imagined what it would be like to walk up to her and brush her bangs from her eyes, so she could read better. Then he imagined her looking up at him. He could see her liquid eyes staring into his. Harry realized that he had actually stopped breathing, just thinking so intently about her. He forced himself to start again and rubbed his temples with both of his index fingers.

Harry started to wonder just how much longer he could stand not seeing her. Maybe she was testing him. Maybe she was wondering why he had not simply come out to America to come and see her. He felt so much responsibility in finishing Heaglevert’s work right here, but his heart was beginning to ache. He started to imagine her looking at him again and then began to imagine what it might have been like if he had kissed her that night.

Hermione felt rather foolish. It was an interesting turn of events to run across Colette and her practically ruins of an estate. However, as she came upon Leakwood Manor, she realized that she had simply not gone far enough. Harry’s place was about two miles directly north of Colette’s estate. At first glance, it was everything the tavern woman said it would be. It was quite magnificent, in its own way. It had a grand feel, while still keeping a sense of home about it. She guessed that it looked to be about 250 years old, or thereabouts. Harry had apparently done quite well for himself.

She took in the area around the manor. There was a small cemetery and a full garden that has obviously been kept quite well. The house itself, for its age, was in near perfect condition. No doubt the work of house-elves, she mused grimly.

Without further ado, Hermione made her way to the front door. She noticed a long rope dangling down. She shrugged her shoulders, grabbed a hold of it and gave it a healthy yank. Within seconds the door opened and a particularly bouncy house-elf was grinning at her.

“Herm-i-nee?”

“Yes, but how did you know?”

“Master Harry… err… Harry has been talking much about you and has been wishing you would be coming here. He has described to Teebel many times what you would be looking like. Please be coming in, as you are most welcome here.”

The last was said with a grand flourishing bow, which seemed strangely amusing to Hermione. With nothing left to do, she stepped inside and began to look around the entryway. Banners bearing the Leakwood family crest stood proudly to either side of her. The first thing that she noticed was the amazing similarity to Hogwart’s architecture everything seemed to be.

Hermione looked down at Teebel and smiled. He gave a large, silly smile right back at her. He seemed very eager and pleasant. Her first reaction was to be upset at Harry about keeping a house-elf, but that conversation would have to wait until she could ascertain everything that was going on in his life. There would be room enough for discourse on the matter when the time was right.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Teebel.”

“Oh, very much likewise Herm-i-nee.”

“May I see Harry?”

“Oh, yes, of course. He is busy down in the cellar right now. Teebel is hoping it is okay that I show you to a room that you can rest in, until he is coming back up.”

She had waited this long to see Harry, she figured she could wait a bit longer. She agreed and the elf motioned her excitedly up the stairs. He led her down a small hallway and to an elegant rosewood door. Teebel opened the door for her and extended his arm out towards the direction of the room. She walked in, held her breath and then exhaled in a somewhat mystified manner.

It was the most exquisite guest room she had ever laid her eyes on. A large, plush canopy bed draped in a crimson spread and silk sheets was sitting between two elongated, stained-glass windows. The sunlight came through in fractured color that lit up the room in sparkling rainbows reflecting off the floor and walls. The floor was a deep rosewood, perfectly matching the doorway. There was a priceless Turkish rug covering a large portion of the central floor. A small doorway off to the side, led into a cozy bathroom and shower. The bathroom floor was made of soft pink marble tiles. She turned around and on the wall with the entrance was a series of breathtaking muggle paintings, obviously done by a master artist. Then she gasped as she looked upwards and noted that the twelve foot ceiling was an immaculate mural of a twelfth century’s rendering of an astronomical chart of the heavens. Hermione sat down right where she was at, which Teebel quickly pushed a chair underneath to prevent her from plopping down straight on to the ground.

“Teebel is hoping this room will be comfortable for Herm-i-nee while she is staying here with Mast… ahem, Harry. Harry is spending much time scolding Teebel for calling him master. Harry is not liking that at all. He has been trying to pay Teebel, but I am telling him that I serve here, because I am wanting to.”

Teebel said it with such pride in his voice that she decided that pushing the subject would go nowhere. Plus, she was highly occupied by how amazing this place was. It was such a strange mix of a wizarding manor and an elegant muggle mansion all rolled into one. How strange to so perfectly blend the two different styles into one. Being who she was, it made her feel right at home. Well, except for the phenomenal amount of wealth tied up in the mix.

“When will I get to see Harry?”

“Teebel is going to tell Harry that you are here and I am sure he will be wanting to come straight up to see you.”

--- ---

Harry heard a polite knock on the cellar door.

“Harry? This is Teebel who is knocking on the door. Forgive my bothering, but…”

“It’s alright Teebel, come on in.”

“Teebel is very afraid of coming inside. Could Teebel just smash his head on stone wall as punishment instead?”

“No! No, Teebel, no punishing yourself. I absolutely forbid it. I will come to you.”

Harry stood up and walked over to the door.

“Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes, everything is good Harry. You are having a visitor to come and see you.”

Harry opened the door and smiled, “Is Bili here again?”

“No. Herm-i-nee is being here.”

“Err… excuse me?”

“Herm-i-nee is being here to see Harry,” Teebel smiled warmly.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat or two. She had finally come. Thank goodness.

--- ---

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we haven’t heard a thing from Harry?” Ginny asked.

Mrs. Weasley put the book she was reading down.

“Yes, I do think it is a bit unlike Harry to not write. I do wish he would. I worry about him. Of course it would be nice if Ron wrote once in awhile as well.”

“Can I go and visit Harry?”

Molly looked over at her daughter and let out a sigh.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I don’t like the idea of you going off by yourself. Gillingham is a long ways away Ginny.”

Ginny thought for a moment, “Well, what if I went with someone.”

“Draco is not a someone dear. I barely even consider him human.”

“Oh, he’s long out of my life. He was just too full of himself, and quite the foul little wizard when he put his mind to it. I was thinking of someone a little more trustworthy, say like Neville?”

“Neville? Hmmm, yes he’s a nice boy. I guess if you went with him AND promised to write to me everyday to let me know you’re safe, then you could go and visit for a spell. Mind you, I would like to know that Neville’s parents approve, but I don’t see any harm in it.”

“Really?! Thanks! I’ll go and talk to Neville right now.”

--- ---

Harry practically ran up the stairs. He only tripped twice, not that he noticed. Hermione was here and now everything would be better. He had no particular reason for thinking that; everything just seemed to make more sense now that she would be with him. Poor Teebel had to run as fast as his little legs could carry him to keep up with Harry. After awhile, he became exasperated and simply apparated himself upstairs. Harry, on the other hand, had no such rational thought. His heart beating and out of breath from the exertion, he arrived just outside the room that Teebel was leading him to.

“So, she’s in there now?” Harry asked in a tired whisper.

Teebel nodded his head emphatically. Harry just about grabbed the handle to open the door and then realized what he was doing. He gathered his scattered thoughts, took a deep breath and politely knocked on the door. He heard footsteps approaching, then the door began to open and Harry came face to face with the one thing he had been waiting for all these weeks. It was like a cool breeze had just blown across the desert of his life.

“Hermione,” he said with a smile.

“Harry,” she replied as she rested her head on the edge of the door.

“I have so many things to tell you that I don’t even know where to begin,” Harry blurted. Then remembering he laughed, “But, perhaps I should start with ‘hello’.”

“It’s good to see you Harry,” she grinned.

“I’ve really missed you Hermione. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you came to see me. Will… will you be able to stay for awhile?”

“Well, that entirely depends.”

“Depends on what?” Harry asked.

“It depends on how long you want me to stay,” she answered.

Harry stopped for a moment and thought about that. He had a dozen or so thoughts running through his head all at once. How should he answer that? What did she mean by it? Not quite sure of himself he answered very carefully.

“Well, it’s like this, I have been working on something very special and I’ve been dying to tell you all about it. Would you be willing to stick around and help me with it?”

“Really, what is it you’re working on?” Hermione said quite interested.

“I’m not exactly sure. It’s a bit of a mystery. I can tell you this though, it’s something really amazing. It’s kind of a science experiment, wrapped up in a history lesson, topped with a healthy dose of magical research. I’ll show you absolutely everything if you promise to stay, at least for awhile.”

Hermione’s eyes got quite wide. She was never one to turn her back on a good mystery. Plus, it was Harry asking her. Whatever it was, it seemed very important to him. She was deeply curious about all of this. Harry had not written her one single time, but she shows up at his doorstep and he acts like he’s been waiting for her. How on earth could she resist his offer? Plus, like she thought before, it was Harry asking her.

“It all sounds so interesting. I would…” she almost said the word love, but for some reason it made her chest feel tight, “really enjoy staying here. I’ll just send my parents a letter letting them now that I’ll be here for a few days.”

Harry’s face immediately dropped and he began to stare hard at his feet. Hermione knew right away that she had said something wrong. She tried to think of what it might be and then she realized what it was. Harry was probably terribly lonely here in this big manor all by himself. He was not really just looking for a ‘lab partner’ for a few days; he was hoping she would stay longer. The thought of staying longer appealed to her, but she was afraid that if she appeared too eager than Harry would think that she was staying for reasons other than what he was asking. He wanted help with his little mystery. If she was not careful he might realize… that… she shook her head. No, he might push her away if he knew. What to say… what to say.

“Of course, this mystery might take a little longer to research; perhaps I should just tell them I’ll be here… until we solve it. How does that sound?” she asked timidly.

Harry’s face immediately lit up and he answered, “That would be wonderful. Who knows how long it will take us to figure it all out?”

Argh! He really wished he had not said that last line. She might get the wrong idea. Hermione might not understand how much he missed her and well, what if she thought… well that he… had been thinking about her a lot. She might not want to stay if she knew. He was relieved when she gave her answer.

“Yeah, who knows how long? It’s not like there’s no extra room for a guest here, right?”

“Right,” Harry answered with a nervous laugh, “plenty of room.”

Man he was pathetic. He would have groaned out loud if Hermione was not standing right next to him.

“Well, I tell you what,” Harry announced, “Why don’t I go see about getting some dinner ready for us. Would you like to meet me downstairs in the dining room in say, about fifteen minutes? It will be the first time I’ve eaten in there. We can break it in and get some use out of it.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Hermione answered. “Oh, Harry? I feel a bit silly, but I really didn’t pack anything. You think I would have thought of that. I guess I wasn’t sure how long I would be staying.”

A small cough came from behind Harry. Both of them looked over and realized they had forgotten that Teebel was still standing there.

“Dinner will be served promptly in one quarter of an hour. I am pleased to be telling you that I have much clothes packed away that might be fitting Herm-i-nee. I will go and get them and put them in her room, so she will be having them after dinner is being finished. Oh, and Teebel has made sure they are very clean and fluffy. So, uh, no reason for anyone to be being worried.”

Hermione responded gratefully, “Thank you so much Teebel. Would you like to eat dinner with us?”

“Dinner? Teebel eating dinner ‘with’ Herm-i-nee and Harry?”

There was a brief silence followed by a tiny house-elf laughing hysterically.

“You are being so very funny Herm-i-nee. Teebel met a dwarf once who was very funny, but you are being much funnier than he.”

He wiped away tears of laughter from his eyes and continued to make running commentary on how funny Hermione had been, as he made his way downstairs.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Hermione said to no one in particular.

“You’ll get used to him,” Harry replied, “He’s really quite wonderful. He’s just very happy to be a house-elf for some reason. You should have seen him when I first arrived, he practically cried with joy every time I asked him for something. I guess it’s been really hard for him, being alone for so long.”

Hermione nodded her head, “It is hard to be lonely.”

Harry could not have agreed with her more. Realizing that he was just standing there staring at Hermione, he quickly changed the subject.

“Well, I need to go wash up. I’ll meet you downstairs,” Harry said as he bounded down the stairs after Teebel.

--- ---

Amelia was hovering quietly nearby. She guessed that the new girl would probably not be able to see her, but she did not want Harry thinking she was spying on him. This Hermione seemed very nice, but now that she was here, she knew that she would have to share Harry with her. He seemed quite enamored and would likely not want to bother with her anymore. The idea that Harry would not want to talk to her anymore made her very sad.

She had to find a way to remind Harry that she still needed him. A way to show how much she cared for and appreciated him. She thought for a moment and then came up with an idea. A gift! She would find a special gift to give to Harry that would help him think about her. Not that she wanted Harry to forget the whole rest of the world, it was just she was frightened of losing him. What on earth could she possibly give him though?

There had to be something that would make him still like her. Her ghostly eyes opened wide and she let out a girlish squeal.

“I have it! I know just what to give you Harry Potter. I know that you will simply love it!” she exclaimed.

The key had been lost for a long time now. She remembered that after the last of the Leakwoods had left, that it had been hidden away. Harry had to know that there was not enough graves in the cemetery to account for his whole family. Wouldn’t he be so surprised to be able to see the rest? He could see where she had been buried. It had been a long time since she herself had gone there.

She swooped down to the floor just below the main level. She raced along the twisting hallways and stopped just in front of a black stone doorway. Harry had never been down this hallway. He had gotten sidetracked by the cellar and missed this place altogether. Not that he would have been able to get in. The door was sealed with a powerful charm, that only the family key could open. Just inside the door was a dark hallway covered in cobwebs. The floor was made of stone slate and brick. There, just inside, was the loose brick, right where she had remembered. She used every ounce of her concentration and willed the brick to topple out. There underneath was its secret hiding place. She peered in the small hole and saw it. A heavy iron key with the base being a smithed emblem of the Leakwood crest. Again, she used every bit of strength she had and willed the key up and out and then slid it beneath the small crack under the stone door, and out the other side.

Exhausted, but victorious she went through the door and saw that the key was now in plain view. Later, she would bring Harry here and show him. He loved learning about his family. He would surely love coming to visit this place; well maybe love was not the right word, but he would definitely be intrigued. Here underneath the house, stretching out under the outside grounds was a very special and unique place: The Leakwood Family crypt.

Neville could barely keep from running around the room screaming. He was so fidgety that it made it utterly impossible to concentrate on anything. He felt so sure of himself when he told off Draco and stood up for himself toward Ginny. Now, his self-assuredness had all but vanished. She was never going to speak to him again. He just knew it. So, here he was sitting on the end of his bed trying to figure out exactly where his plan went all wrong. He wanted nothing except to be honest with his feelings and the courage to talk about them to the woman he had these feelings for. He was not looking for anything in return. Then she had to go and kiss him. Which, for all his bravado, really was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him. He certainly was not going to admit that to the boy who made his life miserable in school, and certainly not to a girl who was using him to hurt said boy.

He groaned and threw his body backwards onto the bed. He clenched his fists and punched the bouncy mattress repeatedly.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I am so stupid! What was I thinking?” he scolded himself.

He leapt up and stormed out of his room. Maybe going for a walk would help calm him down. He clomped down the long stairway to the dining room. There was a side door that led into the fields in the back of his house. He practically threw it open when his concentration was broken by a voice yelling out to him from the foyer. The interruption of his self-doubt further irritated him and his temper started to flare.

“Neville? There…”

“Not right now! I… need to go for a walk.”

“But there’s…”

“Please! Not right now! Can’t everyone just leave me alone for a bit here? Whatever it is can wait,” the exasperation in his voice was obvious.

“But, Neville?! There’s someone here to see you.”

“I don’t care, thanks!” he yelled.

“Well, what on earth should I tell Ginny? Do you want her to come back later?”

“Mother, I told you that I don’t… … … ummm… did you say Ginny?”

“Yes,” she responded.

“Oh,” Neville answered in an unsure voice. “I uh, I’ll uhh… be right there.”

If anyone had been in the room to see his face they would have said he had just been on the receiving end of a stunning curse. He stood there for a moment trying to wrap his mind around the concept that Ginny Weasley was actually here.

“Neville?” Mrs. Longbottom called out, “Are you coming?”

“Y..y..yes.”

As always, his head dropped down in his usual nervously shy way. It was easier to look at your own feet when you felt all embarrassed and awkward. Far better than looking into the eyes of those around you. You never know how they might be looking at you. It could be disgust, or laughter, or anger, or any number of awful looks that just seemed to sap all the courage from his heart. It was definitely better to keep your eyes on the ground or on something, anything else besides people. It was too painful to have to face what others thought of him. He knew… he had always known. There had never been a time when kids were not ignoring him, laughing at him, calling him names, or beating him up. All his life… all his life… … always.

Now, the one girl he put all his trust into. The one he had always secretly crushed on was going to give him that same look. There was nowhere for him to hide. He was not a child anymore. He could not run and duck under his bed or lock himself in his closet as he had always done in the past when people were cruel toward him. He was an ‘adult’ now and adults don’t get to hide. They have to face head on, whatever terrible things people do or say. He simply did not have the strength to deal with it, but what else could he do?

With a secret crush, at least, it is just a fantasy. The fantasy could always be perfect. He would imagine he would find the courage to look up into her eyes and there would be no hatred, or disgust, or detached pity. He imagined her eyes full of warmth and sometimes even with fire. He imagined she would smile and the feeling was so powerful that even though it was only his imagination, it would make him feel like he was something special. She could make him feel like a hero with just a glance.

Now, that was all going to be gone. The dream would be broken and the bubble of his perfect fantasy would be popped. He would have to face the reality. Ginny Weasley did not like him in that way and there was nothing he could do to make that change. It was about to get worse, because she was going to prove it to him beyond a shadow of any doubt and he would be left with nothing. Neville wished he could be anybody else, but himself… of all the people he hated in his life; he hated no one more than he hated Neville Longbottom. He could not stress that enough.

He quietly walked into the foyer. His eyes firmly fixated on putting one foot in front of the other. When his mother saw him walk in she excused herself and left the two of them alone. Ginny could tell with one look that Neville was at just about the lowest point in his life. It made her sad to think that she had something to do with making things harder than it already must have been for him. She wanted to go and visit Harry and Hermione. She needed someone to go with her and Neville just popped in her head. He was a good person and would never be anything but trustworthy. Now, she realized that asking him to go was bordering on cruel. He would not even look at her. He just sat there in silence staring down. What happened to the brave young man who told her a thing or two just the day before? What was he scared of now?

He had faced down the blonde worm of a wizard and had even faced her down when she stole something from him that she could never give back. It made her feel as small as a house-elf knowing that his first kiss was the charade she used to twist the proverbial knife in Draco’s unfeeling heart. The sad thing was it accomplished nothing. Malfoy was a total prat and laughed the whole thing off and simply turned his back and apparated home to head off for France with his little groupies. What a waste. She threw away all those hours and days of her life swooning over a self-absorbed Slytherin. Never again she promised herself.

The silence was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“Hi, Neville,” Ginny tried to say in a happy voice.

“Hi, Ginny,” he replied, still looking at the ground, “you look very nice today.”

“Uh, how would you know? You haven’t even looked at me,” Ginny teased him.

“I don’t need to. You always look beautiful,” he answered.

She was about to say something else, then it sunk in what he had just said to her. She thought about it and realized that he had just given her one of the best compliments she had ever received from a boy before. It was not exactly the words he used; it was more how matter of factly he said it. As if it was something so obvious and true that he could say it without looking at her, just knowing it and without any thought telling her exactly that.

“Please just say it and go,” Neville whispered to her.

“Say what?” Ginny asked unsure what he meant.

“I know why you came here.”

Ginny carefully chose her next words, “Why do you think I came here Neville?”

“To tell me that you don’t like me the way I like you and then I’ll look into your eyes and I won’t see anything in them for me. Then you’ll go and I won’t ever see you again.”

Ginny could hear that his voice was on the verge of tears. This was fast becoming the worst moment of her life as well. In all her years, she never thought that she had the power to hurt someone so deeply without even trying to; without even having to lift a single finger. She knew some girls loved the power they had to hurt men. Ginny tasted the power and thought it something foul and bitter. This was not a ‘gift’ she wanted to have. Neville was in a dark hole and she had no way of bringing him out of it. She knew that it was not her fault that he had feelings for her, but that thought brought her little comfort right now.

Neville tried to lift his head up and look at Ginny, but he simply could not do it. So, instead he told her the most important thing he had ever told anyone in his life. If this was his last moment with her, then he decided he had better say it before the chance was gone forever. He knew it was futile. He knew it would fall on deaf ears. He knew that it would mean less than nothing, but the last flicker of courage inside of him came rushing up in the darkness of the moment

“Ginny…

…

…

I love you.”

Ginny felt the heat of a tear falling down her cheek and then another. She had no idea of how to respond to that, so they both just stood there. The silence was deafening.

--- ---

Hermione was already sitting down at the dining room table when Harry walked in all grins. He was as happy as a clam. Tradition says that when two people sit at a ridiculously long table for dinner, that they most both sit at opposite ends. Harry and Hermione sat right next to each other somewhere in the middle. While eating the delicious meal that Teebel had prepared, the two of them simply started talking and talking and then talked some more.

Hermione told Harry all about her adventures in America. Even the parts that he would normally find dull he hung on her every word, as if she were sharing the secrets of the universe with him and him alone. When Harry started talking about his great, great grandfather and his fantastic experiments, Hermione’s ears immediately pricked up.

“Hang on,” she exclaimed excitedly, “did you say his name was Heaglevert?”

“Yes, Heaglevert Leakwood. Why do you ask?”

“Harry! Don’t you remember when I told you about the classes they offer at the American wizarding school? About the old, eccentric wizard trying to mix science and magic? No wonder why no one could find the man. They had his name wrong. They called him Hagelburt, thinking that was his last name, since it was the only name they had. All this time his name was Heaglevert and it was his first name; his last name obviously being Leakwood. That would explain why I could never find any information on the poor fellow.”

“You never told me about that,” Harry said in a confused tone.

“Yes, in the letter I wrote you awhile back. Which reminds me; I’m a bit miffed at you. Why did you never write back? I was really worried about you,” Hermione said with obvious frustration.

“Wrote me?” Harry said again in confusion. “I did write you. Two times to be exact and I never heard anything from you. Are you sure you sent me the letter?”

“Of course I am. Did you think I wouldn’t write?”

Harry felt a bit relieved when he replied, “I was kind of wondering about that. I thought maybe you were too busy to send me an owl.”

“Harry Potter! I would never in my life be too busy to write you when I am away. You’re my best friend. Of course, that leads to the obvious next question. How on earth could we have sent two letters to each other and neither one receive any of them? You did send yours by Hedwig right?”

“Yes, and she came back both times empty handed, so I made the assumption that you got them and just didn’t write back.”

Hermione pursed her lips and said, “How odd. I used one of the witch’s owls that I was bunking with and the same thing happened. Both times her owl came back without a letter from you. How is that possible though? Something doesn’t add up.”

Harry was staring hard at Hermione with a smile on his lips.

“What is it?”

“You have no idea of how relieved I am that you tried to write me. I was starting to really worry that maybe you would like it so much out there, that you wouldn’t come back.”

“Oh Harry, never think that I would ever just up and leave you. You are far too important a person in my life to do that. It was hard enough to go in the first place. If I hadn’t thought it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, I would never have gone at all. I mean look at all this that I missed.”

Hermione had her hand extended out motioning around the room.

“I mean come on. A big, mysterious mansion chock full of odd things. With a history of an eccentric wizard dabbling in the taboo prospect of blending magic and science, I was born to be here Harry. I have no doubt that in a previous life I was a great detective, or at least a really good mystery novelist.”

With that the two of them laughed warmly and began their catching up with renewed enthusiasm. Hermione listened intently on matters regarding The Great Machine and the ghost of Amelia. Each of these two things fascinated her. In turn, Harry was especially interested in the woman Colette and her living circumstances. He made no bones about wanting to visit her and seeing what he could do to help. Both of them began to wonder about the disappearing letters and the coincidence of an estate to the south being occupied by a woman and her ‘dearest’ shortly after Bilibaum dropped by to call on his new neighbor. They talked until the late night had become the dark, early morning. Hermione told Harry that she wanted to think about all the things they had talked about and see if she could sort it out in her head.

She also got quite excited about Harry’s description of the Leakwood library. She was sure there would be important books there if she could just start browsing through them in the morning. When Hermione discovered that Amelia could ‘control’ Harry when he let her, and the fact that no one could see her and no one else could hear her besides Harry, made a little warning bell go off in her head. Again, she was too tired to take it all in tonight, so it would have to wait until morning.

Teebel came in and insisted that they both go to bed before they fell asleep right there on top of the dirty dishes. Harry and Hermione agreed that a good night’s sleep was in order. They both stood up and looked at each other.

“It is so great to have you here Hermione.”

Hermione smiled, “It’s great to be here. I’m so relieved that you are okay. I worried about you non-stop until I could see with my own two eyes that you were all in one piece.”

Harry reached out and pulled her into a warm, bear hug. He hugged her so tight that he squeezed some of the air out of her lungs, but she did not mind one bit. After he let her go they both made their way to their respective bedrooms to turn in for the rest of the night.

As Harry turned towards his own room after saying their ‘goodnights’, he felt Amelia nearby. He was beginning to be able to tell she was in the room without even trying now. At first it unnerved him a bit, but as time went on it seemed more and more natural. They did share a blood bond after all.

“Hello Amelia,” he said sleepily.

“Hello Harry. Do you have your wand with you?”

“Of course, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing is wrong. I just needed to show you something. Will you come with me?”

“It can’t wait until morning?” Harry pleaded while trying to keep his eyes from closing involuntarily.

“It won’t take long I promise,” she begged.

He sighed, “Sure, lead the way.”

Though he could not see her, he could definitely feel her presence and hear her voice. It was easy to follow her as long as she did not pass through any walls or floors or ceilings. She carefully led him down to the floor just above the cellar. He realized he was in a part of the house he had not wandered through before and the curiosity of it began to wake him up. At the end of a strange and curvy hallway was an imposing stone door. The door looked very old and upon inspection appeared to be much older than the rest of the house. There on the floor was a large, iron key.

“What is this place?” Harry asked.

“It’s a special place. Take the key, unlock the door and light up your wand. I have a surprise for you.”

Harry did as he was told. While pulling on the heavy door a blast of cold air came in from the darkness. Harry cast the Lumos spell and peered inside. The cobwebs and dust in the hallway beyond left no question as to how long it had been since someone had been down here. This was another one of those areas that Teebel did not look after. He could not explain it, but Harry was both afraid and intrigued.

“It’s alright Harry. There’s nothing down here that can hurt you. I would never put you in any kind of danger. You’re the only family I have.”

“I know you wouldn’t Amelia. I trust you.”

With that he stepped in and began to slowly walk down the hall. The place had a strange smell, like the smell of burnt wood mixed with stale dust. Harry began to notice that the hallway was getting much wider. After a ways, it opened into a spacious stone room with huge blocks carved out of the walls. In many of the blocks were finely carved stone and marble boxes. Many of them had figures carved onto the tops of various people lying down. Harry stopped and it hit him like a bludger. This was a crypt and he immediately realized why the cemetery was so small. The rest of his ancestors were all buried down here.

There was an open archway at the end of the room that led into another room. Harry stepped through and saw that there were stone sepulchers in this room. Some had statues carved on the top and others simply had words or poems carved into them. In a strange, morbid sort of way it was hauntingly beautiful. At the same time Harry felt his skin crawl. It is always an unsettling thing being in a crypt, no matter what the circumstances. Harry looked up and noticed what appeared to be a trap door of some sort in the ceiling.

“Amelia where does that go to?”

“Oh, that goes up to the small mausoleum in the family cemetery. Papa told me that his grandfather built it when they first laid the foundation for the crypt as a secret escape. I always thought it was really neat. A bit creepy, but neat.”

Harry took another look around the room and saw a particularly interesting sepulcher. It was very small and was carved out of a single block of white marble. It had an amazing sculpture of a little girl sitting on top with her bare legs dangling over the edge. The girl had a bright smile on her face. When Harry approached it he saw the words carved on top.

Amelia Leakwood, beloved daughter

We miss you so much. You were taken from our lives too soon.

You will never be forgotten.

Harry touched the letters with his fingers. This place was no longer scary at all. It was a very special place. It was the place that many of his ancestors had been laid to rest. The thought was oddly comforting to him. Harry looked up and almost jumped out of his pants. There hovering a few feet from him was the ghostly visage of a nine year old girl.

“Amelia, I can see you.”

“You can?! Really?! You can see me?”

“It must have something to do with the fact that we are so close to your body. Your connection to the world of the living must be stronger here.”

Harry noticed one very interesting thing. He had seen many ghosts at Hogwarts. There was no doubt that Amelia was a ghost, but she looked very different from the others. She was much brighter and her image was as white as new snow at night when the moon’s light reflects off of it. Her form was also much less distinct, like he was looking at her through shimmering water. Where the ghosts he had seen looked like they almost belonged in this world, Amelia looked like she definitely did not. Without a doubt, Harry knew that she was not meant to be trapped in this life. And yet, here she was.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Harry said earnestly. "This is an important place and now that I know I can see you when we’re down here. I promise I’ll visit often.”

Amelia had no idea that Harry would be able to actually see her down here. However, it made her very happy indeed. Now, she knew that he would not forget her, even with his woman friend Hermione staying here. Maybe things were going to work out okay after all.

--- ---

A light rain began to fall on the empty beach. The dark figure who had been occupying this place was again pacing up and down near the water.

“So, your little friend has decided to come and visit. How nice for you Harry Potter. I see she found dear Colette hidden away in her crumbling tower. That woman is blind in more ways than one, eh?”

He chuckled to himself as his grotesquely thin and tall body lumbered eerily along.

“This Hermione will not be able to help keep the Eye of Narlroot safe from me, anymore than you could. Oh, if only you knew what you had locked up in your little manor. Heaglevert’s experiments failed because he did not realize that his machine was incomplete. The results were not at all what he expected. What will you find Harry? Will you discover that it has great power? If you learn its true purpose in time, it might save you, but I assure you there is no danger of that happening. When the rest of the wizarding world discovers what you will find in that cellar, they will never allow it. They will come for you and lock you up in Azkaban just to shut you up. When they do, I will step in and take the sapphire from its hiding place and I will be free of this wretched curse. Then with the power of the Eye I will become what that overrated Voldemort never could. The destroyer of all witches and wizards who will not accept me… as their god.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I think so,” she answered.

With that Harry pulled on the handle and waited for the sounds of tinkling bells. Just as they subsided, the door clicked and he pushed it open wide. He stood behind Hermione and waited for her to step inside of Heaglevert’s old workshop. As he watched her gingerly lift one foot and enter the soft lit room he felt a sense of anticipation run down his spine. This room had become like an inner sanctum for the side of him he had always kept hidden from the world. Now his sanctuary was, in a strange way, being violated by another human being. However, for him it was a voluntary intrusion. He was allowing someone to see this secret part of his life. Well, not just anyone, it was the perfect someone. The person he trusted almost more than he trusted himself. Would she accept this part of him; the part so desperately searching for a connection to his past? Searching for what had eluded him all of his life, a deep and personal sense of belonging.

In a way, he was allowing the two distinct parts of his person come together. Hermione represented all of the good and magical things that had happened in the past seven years. This room represented the walls of isolation he had built to protect him from all of the bad things; the loss of his parents, being trapped inside the empty world of the Dursleys, the constant threat of Voldemort. This was the moment he had been waiting for since he had first come here. It was the moment where he allowed the good things to crawl inside his towering walls and share the same place in his heart.

Hermione was all the way inside now. She seemed dumbfounded, unable to even breathe. Harry stepped beside her and just stared at her face as she took everything in. Her eyes were opened as wide as they could be and her mouth just slightly open in the shape of an ‘oh’ of surprise and wonder. He reached out and gently put his hand, fingers outstretched, onto her back. She turned and looked at him shaking her head in disbelief.

“You tried to explain it to me, but now that I see it I… I’m amazed. Your great, great grandfather was a very interesting scientist. His work is so brilliant and yet chaotic at the same time. I mean no disrespect Harry, but he was not only extremely intelligent, but I have to admit I think he was at least a bit insane. Please don’t take offense at that Harry…”

She looked a bit taken aback by what she had just said.

“It’s okay. From reading his journal, I sort of came to the same conclusion. I think he was daft in a good way though. At least he was using his life to accomplish something good.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hermione said with her head cocked to one side.

“I wasn’t at first, but I am now. He was doing this for a good reason, well at least at first anyway, and then I think he was doing it because he saw something important in his ideas. Something that would change the world. I just need to finish his work, with your help, and bring some closure to my family; even if they are all dead.”

“For better or for worse, I’m with you all the way Harry. We’ll see it through to the end.”

Harry simply could not take his eyes off of her face. The soft reflection of the light on her cheeks made her seem almost otherworldly. A sense of gratefulness welled up inside of him.

“Where should I begin?” Harry asked her.

“Show me everything,” she quickly replied.

So, he did.

--- ---

After seven straight hours of touching and examining everything in the workshop the two of them had agreed they had done enough for one day. Harry had spent some of that time talking to Amelia. Hermione could not help but feel a bit disconcerted by it. Harry would talk so seriously, but she could hear no reply. However, Harry did and he even let the girl inside of him for awhile and the two of them worked intensely on the mockup of The Great Machine.

She did not like to admit it, but she felt a pang of jealousy. Harry and Amelia seemed to share a very strong connection. On top of it, this ghost of a girl could go inside of him. That did not sit well with her at all. She was sure that it was dangerous, or at least Hermione kept telling herself that. On a much deeper level, she began to wonder what it would be like to step inside of the one and only Harry Potter. What did he feel like on the inside? Could Amelia touch Harry’s soul? Thinking about that started to get her riled up inside. No one should be touching Harry’s soul! His soul was not a toy to be played with. She would never do something like that. If she could touch his soul, she would be sure to treat it very carefully. Harry probably had a very special soul. It probably would feel very nice. Which made her think of Amelia inside of him again and that started the whole thought cycle all over again.

Hermione started to get frustrated with herself. She had intended her walk around the manor to clear her thoughts, so she could concentrate on all the things she had seen and heard. It was a great deal to take it all in at once. She thought about Colette and how serious her condition was. She thought about how odd Amelia’s situation was. If she really was a ghost, she was vastly different from any of the information discussed in the Hogwart’s textbooks. How could that be? She thought about the philosophical discourses that Heaglevert had in his journal. Harry seemed to think they were less important, but Hermione knew better. After reading them she tended to agree that the purpose of the machine was something good. Leakwood had a firm set of noble and fair ideas about how magic folk and muggles alike should be treated. He also spoke strongly against the ministry of magic, which at the time had some very negative opinions about witches and wizards meddling in muggle affairs.

Then there was of course the odd situation as to why their letters had never made it to their destinations. How did the letters not make it to their intended people and yet the owls returned home as if the deliveries had been made? Then the question remained of who had sent Harry the big sapphire that he had hidden away somewhere in the house. She did agree with Harry on the point that if they could solve the mystery of the machine, then the other mysteries would fall into place.

Having more questions than answers really irritated her. That was something she was not used to. It was time to do what any girl would do in a situation like this. It was time to hit the books. The library was large, had about three thousand books in it and had her name written all over it. With a contented little sigh, she wandered down to it and immediately set up shop. This was her element. Harry needed answers and that is what she did best, find answers.

When they were together in the cellar, she could feel his green eyes piercing her. Accept when Amelia was near, he never took his eyes off her. At first it was a bit annoying, but after awhile it stopped bothering her and it was sort of nice. It wasn’t like he had not looked at her before, but it was the first time since the last Yule Ball that he was really serious about staring at her.

It was hard to leave America at first, but now that she was here with him and he needed her so much it all changed. Now, there was no other place in the world she would rather be than right here, close to him.

--- ---

Harry was stretching his arms out on the front porch when an enormous brown owl came barreling out of the sky. It landed with a distinct thud on the ground right next to him. With a quick shake of its head, it dropped a letter and immediately took flight again. After watching it disappear in the distance he reached down and picked it up. He had read the first note so many times that he recognized the handwriting right away.

I need to warn you. There are forces at work that you are unaware of. There is one who would try and betray you. One who desperately wants you to succeed. And yet another who seeks that which you have hidden away at any cost. You must figure out who is who, before it is too late. It saddens me to tell you these things, but it would be more wrong not to. I do wish you well.

~A Friend~

Harry wanted to immediately run to Hermione, but something deep inside made him think twice. If he told her, she would immediately suspect the sender of the letter of wrongdoing. Somehow Harry knew that was not the case. He could not explain it, but he just knew. Hermione had enough on her mind as it was. This would just make things more complicated. However, his attitude was changing. Getting to the bottom of Heaglevert’s machine was no longer a matter of closure. Somewhere in the distance there was a clock ticking and he sensed that time was beginning to run out.

--- ---

Colette sat in her usual chair humming to herself. She did the hourly check of her cloak and various wrappings. Each part needed to be securely in place. Bili insisted that she was extra careful about not allowing any part of her catch a draft. Her condition was getting worse and so he began to fret more with each passing day.

She often asked him if she was still as beautiful as the day they had met. Without hesitation he would kiss her on the top of her head and insist she was even more beautiful now. If that was the case, then why did he not kiss her cheek, or her forehead, or her lips as he had so eagerly done years ago? Also, in his voice she detected a slight quiver or quick falter, but she never let on that she noticed. Maybe there was something that he was not telling her. Did her illness change her appearance? She could not know as blindness had set in long before she had been forced to cover herself.

He had always been a passionate man, but now he channeled all of his passion into finding help for her. He had brought her to so many, but none could provide the cure he so desperately searched for. Though he never said it, she knew that if he did not find help soon that she would die. At first the thought had frightened her, but after being in so much pain for so long she began to wonder if dying was really so bad. She mentioned it to Bili once and he absolutely refused to talk about it. To be honest, it was after that conversation that he began to become obsessive about saving her. She never mentioned it again.

From downstairs she heard footsteps. Finally he had come home. He would disappear for days at a time, always looking, always searching. Then he would come home broken hearted with each renewed failure. His footsteps sounded strangely heavy. He must be particularly upset this time. No matter, if she had anything, she still had her gift at cheering him up. She could do nothing else, so she channeled much of her energies into trying to bring some happiness in his life. It made her feel good to hear his laugh, or to hear him sing some new song he had learned in one part of the world or another. From what she understood he had been in search of some ‘witch doctor’ high up in the Andes Mountains. It sounded as if it had been another dead end. When she heard him making his way up to the top of the stairs Colette stood up.

“Dearest? Oh, you sound sad. Come up here and sit your weary bones down. We’ll talk together and you can tell me all about it.”

There was no answer.

“Dearest?”

The footsteps stopped at the entrance of the sitting room. A strange smell of rot and decay began to fill the room up. This was not her dearest.

“H…h…hermione?”

A low and raspy voice replied, “Guess again blind woman.”

“Who are you?” she cried in alarm.

“Oh, I’m a great deal many things. For now, you may consider me a source of priceless information. Sit down!”

Colette immediately sat down. A terrible fear swept through her like a December wind.

“You have to do nothing, but sit there and listen. You will ask no questions and you will not interrupt. When I am done, if I am satisfied with your reaction I will leave. Do you understand?”

Colette shook her head up and down to let him know she understood. Where oh, where was Bili she pleaded silently?

“There are a great deal of things that you do not know about your ‘dearest’. Allow me to enlighten you…”

Colette began to shake violently. Whatever was in the room with her did not seem human, not at all.

--- ---

He had made her cry. What kind of awful person was he? Just because he felt he needed to tell her something that really did not matter anyway? He had never seen Ginny cry before and it did not sit well with him. He should have done something, anything to stop her and explain. In the end, he did nothing. He simply watched her turn around with that hurt look in her eyes and walk out his front door. That was that. The last memory of her he would have was of the pain he had caused her. It was a new low, even for him.

Then he began to think to himself. Was being loved by him so awful a thing that it would stun her into silence? Was it so terrible that it would cause her to cry? That must be it. What else could it be? There is no lower place a human life can come to, than to know that the most prized possession you could share with another, your love, is something horrible and worthless. Tears of his own began to fall from his eyes. He sat down in small chair, closed his eyes tightly and began to sob in silence.

The room felt suffocating and his own emotions were like a merciless prisoner. There was nowhere he could go that would lift the weight from his heart. So, crushed under his own worthlessness he sat there. Even his imagination could not save him from what he was feeling. He tried to imagine being somewhere else… being someone else… but his mind refused to cooperate. What now? What could he possibly do? Tomorrow he would have to get up and face the day as if his life was worth living. Then he would have to do that the next day, and the next. What kind of life is that anyway? It was no life, he thought bitterly, no life at all. His crying could no longer be kept silent and a sad sob escaped his lips.

Then the light in the room seemed to change. He felt two hands from behind rest on either side of his shoulders. Then the hands slid around and he felt two arms wrap tightly around him. Soft, perfumed hair fell across his right shoulder and a cool face pressed quietly into his cheek. He felt a tear slide down and splash on his neck. The tear was not his own.

His eyes still closed, a gentle hand lifted up to his chin and turned his face upward. Soft lips that tasted like a fresh field of strawberries pressed against his. For so many years, this moment he had waited, hoped and dreamed about, but felt it would never come. His imagination could not hold a candle to the reality of it. For some reason his tears still kept coming. It was as if his grief and his joy were somehow swept together into one overwhelming wave of emotion. He slowly opened his eyes and saw bright red hair falling all around his face. He closed them again and lost himself in her kiss.

--- ---

Hermione was missing something. She knew she was missing something. It had to do with what Harry had mentioned only in passing. As hard as she tried though, it simply would not come to her. The sun had long ago set and the library had been kindly lit by various candles from a quiet Teebel.

She stood up and decided to go for a walk around the manor to try and see if something would trigger her memory. Harry had said he wanted to go for a walk in the garden and so she decided it best to give him some time to himself. She found herself missing him. She thought that was so odd. He was still right here. She could most likely find a window and call out to him and he would come running. However, that brought no comfort. She wanted him to be near her. She felt it so much lately that it caused her to want to examine the source of this strange neediness inside her. However, there were so many things to concentrate and worry about right now that she felt it was not appropriate to indulge herself. Especially when Harry needed her help with this important work.

The thought of him needing her made her feel warm inside. It was her safe place. This place she found herself in time and time again. The place where Harry would turn to her in his time of need. He trusted her so much and fulfilling that trust gave her a sense of wholeness that she felt at no other time.

As her mind and feet wandered she ran across a twisting corridor that she had never seen before. She took notice of her surroundings. There was a cold breeze coming from up ahead. That in itself was rather odd, as it had been quite the warm summer day. She followed the hall until it reached a large stone door. The door was partially ajar. Hermione poked her head around and looked in. It was quite dark. This must be the family crypt Harry had mentioned. She pulled out her wand and spoke ‘Lumos’ to provide some light.

She pulled the door open enough to be able to pass through. Then she walked inside with a somber quietness. As far as crypts go, it was a rather nice one. Creepy, but nice. She made her way into the first antechamber and saw the beautiful stone and marble coffins. There was the archway that Harry said led to the room where Amelia had been laid to rest. Though, from what she could tell, she was not getting much rest these days.

She hesitated for a moment and then passed under the arched door and into the larger of the two rooms. Just as he had said, the smallest coffin off to the side was there. A sweet carving of a young girl sat on top of it. Hermione walked up toward it and found herself staring into the statue’s eyes. How sad that she had died so very young. Then, she felt a distinct presence in the room. She looked around and noticed a very faint outline of a girl in the center of the room.

“Amelia?” Hermione asked softly.

“You can see me?” Amelia replied.

“Well, sort of, you’re very faint. Although, apparently I can hear you quite well.”

“Harry said it’s because I am close to my body and that gives me a better connection to the world of the living.”

Hermione shook her head yes, “I agree with him. It does sort of make sense. Although, I have never heard of a ghost needing to be close to their body before. All the ones I have seen before were nowhere near their body and I could see them quite clearly.”

“Hang on,” Amelia said, “let me get closer.”

With each step towards her own sepulcher Amelia’s outline became brighter and a bit clearer. However, when she was right next to it, she was still a bit difficult to focus on, though her form was quite bright. She seemed to be almost shimmering or twinkling, like stars do at night, especially when they are close to the horizon.

“How’s that?” Amelia announced.

“Much better,” Hermione said with a wry smile.

“You’ve seen other ghosts before?” Amelia asked.

“Yes, many times.”

“Harry said I was different from other ghosts, too. How come?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Hermione admitted. “To be honest, I wish I did know. I think you are a very important part of the puzzle to getting your father’s old invention to work again. If you don’t mind, I would like to ask you a few things. Would that be alright?”

“Well… sure, okay.” Amelia agreed.

“You were very ill, do you know what was making you so sick?”

“Yes. Papa said that the doctors told me I had sick bones. That something was supposed to be happening inside them that wasn’t. It made my body hurt all the time.”

“Your bones, hmmm.” Hermione thought out loud. “Wait a minute! Why did your father take you to a doctor? Why didn’t he take you to a healer?”

“Oh… only my sister could go and see a healer. The healers wouldn’t help me. It made Papa mad and Mama very sad, but they just wouldn’t.”

“WHAT?!” Hermione yelled, “What do you mean they wouldn’t help you?!”

“Because… Papa said that healers didn’t think people who couldn’t do magic should be helped.”

Hermione’s knees gave way and she flopped straight onto the stone floor. Everything made sense now. Amelia was not a wizard or witch ghost. She was a real ghost. That was why Heaglevert had done all of this. He wasn’t trying to change the world, or create some machine to further the annals of science or magic. He did what he did, because his little daughter was sick; really sick and not from some hex, or jinx, or anything like that. She most likely had something akin to bone cancer and they would not help her as she had the biggest curse of all in the wizarding world. She was a muggle… and because of it, they turned their back on her and so she died.

A loud grating sound filled the room and then Hermione could see torch light through a hole in the ceiling. She blinked and looked hard. There was Harry’s face looking down on the two of them.

“Hey! This trap door is really pretty nifty. You two should come take a look,” he said enthusiastically.

“Harry!” Hermione cried to him. “Get down here right away, we really need to talk.”

Harry sat in a trance like state. Amelia was guiding his every move. This time was different though. Hermione was not an outside observer; she was a part of it. With each twist of his wrist or click of a piece, Amelia spoke through Harry. His voice was hers and in spite of the fact they were far from her final resting place, it allowed Hermione and her to communicate. Amelia spent most of the time just talking. She asked questions that most people would think silly or inane, but Hermione treated each one with care.

“Are you sure Harry can’t hear my answers?” Hermione asked for the second time.

“I’m sure,” Amelia giggled, “he’s sort of in a different place right now. He’s perfectly content reaching inside of himself and recreating my papa’s work. I’m using his ears right now, so he can’t. Only one person can use a part of the body at one time. Not sure why, but it just seems to work that way.”

It was disconcerting to hear the answers of a young girl in Harry’s voice, but Hermione tried her best to ignore how strange it was.

“So, go ahead and ask something else,” Hermione prodded.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Hermione thought for a moment, “Well, it used to be something different when I was your age, but I guess if I had to pick now it would be… green.”

Amelia laughed as she said, “My, my where have I seen that color before? Hmmm, oh that’s right that would be the color of his eyes.”

“Whose eyes?” Hermione replied.

Amelia laughed even harder, “As if you didn’t know! Let’s see… ‘Harry’ has green eyes.”

“I didn’t notice,” Hermione said curtly.

Amelia was giggling so hard that Harry’s body was having a difficult time putting the pieces together.

Amelia suddenly stopped and gasped.

“He’s done it…” she whispered.

Immediately she pulled out of Harry and floated nearby. Left to admire the finished handiwork, Harry wiped a touch of sweat off his brow and smiled.

“Right, so it’s done then… and would you look at that, it’s amazing.”

Hermione could not agree more. There on the table was a complete mockup of the machine. They finally realized why the model looked so different from what was in the center of the room. The huge pipe in the middle was some kind of covering or sleeve that protected what was inside of it. For lack of a better term it appeared to be a sort of throne or large chair that would become perfectly sealed when the machine was activated. The nearby lever was obviously nothing more than a toggle to open and close the protective copper shell. Once opened a person could be comfortably strapped inside. Then, when the lever was pulled again to close it, the machine could be activated.

“So, how do you activate it?” Harry mused.

“Even with the outer shell, from what I can tell from Heaglevert’s notes, the machine is far too dangerous to have anyone else inside the room while it is operating. The mechanism to start the thing will be somewhere outside of the laboratory,” Hermione spoke authoritatively.

“So, I guess we need to find it then,” Harry resigned.

“I already have my suspicion,” she paused.

“Well, spill it then,” Harry said with interest.

“The mechanism would have to be somewhere very close to the machine without actually being inside the room. Since the ground below us is solid stone and dirt, we would need to look directly above.”

Harry pondered for a moment, “If we went outside the door and down the hall to the stairwell and then up to the next level… we would have to double back to where we are now which would put us right in…”

The two of them turned and looked at each other with wide grins.

“The crypt!” they exclaimed simultaneously.

With that they both jumped up and down and cheered loudly. Harry grabbed Hermione by the hands and they both began to spin around the room with glee. When they both become dizzy they stopped and Harry quickly pulled Hermione in close to him.

“You’re a genius Hermione. I know you hear it all the time, but the difference is that I truly appreciate it in a way that no one else could possibly understand. In all my life I’ve never met anyone as amazing as you.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and held him as tight as she could. Why was it that every time Harry paid her a compliment she would feel as tall as Hagrid? It was almost as if his words could make her feel like she was on some pedestal looking down at the world beneath her feet. Her hands would sway in the clouds and her head would touch the stars.

“It’s like I’ve always said dear Harry. I may be smart, but you’ll always be the hero.”

“The hero? No Hermione, the fact of the matter is that no hero is a hero, unless someone makes them that. And you… you’ve always been the one who’s had the gift of making me a hero. I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. Never.”

She knew she should probably let go, but that was the last thing she actually wanted to do. Holding him and being held, was the only place on earth she ever really wanted to be. Even if the rest of the world would slowly forget him, she would always look at his face and see The-boy-who-lived; the greatest hero of them all.

--- ---

Amelia watched the two of them and felt a bit jealous. Not that she begrudged Harry being with Hermione. She just missed physical contact. The idea of hugging someone or being hugged was something she dearly missed from back when she was alive. After watching them and seeing the expression on their faces it began to dawn on her. She might have been nine when she died, but she had learned a few things since then. She had seen a woman look at a man like that before. It was the way her mama used to look at her papa. She sighed and shrugged her ghostly shoulders. It could be worse. They could be kissing. That would have been gross.

--- ---

Bilibaum had walked into the run down manor with a dejected look on his face. Again he had followed yet another false lead. How many more times was he going to have to face disappointment? How many more avenues would run dry before Colette ran out of time? He was beginning to face the reality of his situation. If Harry Potter did not figure out that old machine in his cellar, than the love of his life would die. If anyone could figure it out, it would be Harry; especially now that his smart friend had shown up to help him out. If the two of them could not break Heaglevert’s code than most likely nobody could. He had been in contact with an old friend who knew Harry quite well and he had been assured that Potter was the right man for the job.

It took all he had not to rush over to Leakwood Manor everyday and breathe down Harry’s neck until he figured the damnable thing out. He knew that would be counterproductive. People do not tend to work well doing scientific study with some maniac pushing and prodding. He thought about telling Harry how important the machine was to him. What it might mean if he could get it working, but he knew the less people knew about the whole thing the better. If the ministry were ever to catch wind that the Leakwood family secret had the possibility of rearing its ugly head again, they would be on Harry like a pack of wolves.

So, all he could do until then was to exhaust every other possibility. The old medicine man in Peru had actually heard of the strange malady that had befallen Colette. He said that his grandfather had told him about an entire village in the Andes that had been wiped out in a matter of three or four years. What a terrible waste. All that life taken before its time, and in such an awful and painful way. He knew Colette was suffering. He knew that she was beginning to give up, if she had not already.

The thing that tore him up inside is that the healers at St. Mungos would probably be able to find a cure for it, if they pooled their knowledge and magic into researching it. However, he had been informed many times that was not going to happen. It was not a disease that affected witches and wizards. It only affected muggles and the rule was fast and firm. The magical community does not meddle in the affairs of muggles. The ministry would only involve themselves in the muggle world when the magic world spilled over into it and they had to ‘clean up’ after the fact. However, they were certainly not going to allow the muggle problems to spill over into their affairs. It was after the eighth rejection from the ministry and St. Mungos that Bili decided enough was enough. He turned his back on his wizarding fortune and his place in wizard high society. If he could not get the wizarding community to help the sister of his best friend, then he wanted nothing to do with them.

Shortly after that his best friend had died in a terrible accident and everything changed. Colette had no other family and so he took her in. She had been used to living a wealthy life as her family had been quite well off. However, his friend had spent the entire fortune on trying to find a cure for her. He died a pauper. Bili also separated from his fortune had only this old estate to turn to. It had been left to him by an eccentric Uncle, so he took Colette and the two of them moved in here. As time passed, the friendship he shared with her had become so much more. He had fallen deeply in love with her and she him. Colette and her brother never had any idea he was a wizard, and since he had turned his back on the wizarding world he felt no need to ever tell them. Her life was already plenty complicated enough without having to cope with the idea that there was magic in the world; especially when that same magic had turned its back on people like her.

He had finally made it to the top of the stairs. He heard violent weeping coming from the sitting room. He rushed down the hall and burst into the room. There was Colette sitting naked on the floor sobbing. In her left hand was a strange looking mirror. He recognized it immediately. It was an all-seeing mirror of true sight. It could allow anyone to see themselves as they really were, even if they could not see on their own. If a person were transfigured into some animal and looked in the mirror, they would see themselves as they look when they are in their true human form. If a person were rendered invisible they would see themselves without any problem. The one thing Bili had prayed would never happen, somehow had. Magic had intruded into their lives and had done terrible damage.

He had no idea of how she got a mirror like that. He certainly never had such an item. That was of no consequence now. For now, she had one in her hand and in spite of her blindness she could gaze into it and see her own reflection. Her skin had become mottled and gray. The illness caused the muscles to become all contorted. This would cause a persons face and body to become crippled and disfigured. Terrible sores would develop all over and would leave deep pocks. Colette had once been a woman of great beauty, but now she looked almost like death itself. These things did not matter to Bili. He hid her body so that if others would see her, she would not hear them gasp in horror. Bili saw past all that and saw that she was truly beautiful on the inside as well.

How could he explain to her that he had been lying about her appearance all this time? She was stricken with grief when faced with the reality of what this illness had done to her. How could he possibly undo the damage that been done?

“Colette, my dear…”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare call me dear! You lied to me Bili! You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

“I’m so sorry. I should have told you, but I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want you to think that you were any less beautiful then you have always been.” Bili replied softly.

“That’s NOT what I’m talking about! So, what am I to you?! Do you wizard people consider us ‘muggles’ to be your pets? Are we your playthings?!”

“No! What on earth would make you think that I see you like that Colette? I love you. You have to know that.”

“Do you? I don’t know what’s real or what isn’t. How could you be a wizard? How could magic actually exist? It doesn’t make any sense. If I had known how awful this illness has ravaged my body I never would have agreed to you gallivanting all over the world to find some cure that doesn’t exist! I don’t want to keep living if this is what I’ve become. I want you to let me die! Do you hear me?! I want to DIE!”

Bili began to feel the edge of hysteria welling up inside of himself. He was fast losing control of this situation and he had no idea of what to do.

“Please don’t say that Colette. Please, I love you and I want you to stay right here with me. I promise no more going abroad. No more. I’ll just stay right here with you.”

Colette began to weep all over again.

“You don’t get it to do you. I don’t want to live with you anymore. I don’t want to live anywhere anymore. I don’t want to be trapped in this body for another minute. I just want it to be over. I’m so tired of fighting it. The pain has gotten so unbearable. I can’t go on. Why won’t you let me go?”

“Because I love you and I thought you loved me? I know you love me. You have to! I won’t let you leave and I won’t let you hurt yourself. Since you know that I am a wizard now, then you know that I have the power to keep you safe and to prevent you from hurting yourself.”

“I knew you would say that,” Colette said accusingly. “Don’t you worry, I’ve already fixed that little problem.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I sent one of those owl thingies. I wrote a letter and I sent it with those wizard owls.”

“What owl? What letter?”

“I wrote a letter to your wizard magic ministry and I told them about what Harry Potter is doing over at the Leakwood place. That’s right, I heard all about it. I won’t let you keep me trapped in this body any longer. Even if you cure me, the damage has already been done. I can’t live like this.”

“You wrote… to the ministry… about the machine? Oh Colette… you have no idea of what you’ve done.”

“Oh, but I do! That old Griltskin fellow told me everything. He said the ministry will come down and shut that wizard contraption down. You can’t force me to get cured by that hideous thing.”

“No Colette, you’ve got it all wrong. They’ll destroy the machine all right. Then they’ll arrest Harry and Hermione and lock them up in Azkaban. A terrible, horrible wizard prison that is far worse than any prison the muggle world has ever come up with. They’ll go there and never be let out. The ministry is afraid of Heaglevert’s machine. They always have been. They had no idea that it even still existed anymore. Old Heaglevert had placed some extremely powerful enchantments on the manor that hid what was inside even from the most powerful wizards. He even made a show of destroying The Great Machine to prove that he was not continuing the work. He only destroyed a prototype of it. The real thing was still intact. Sitting, waiting for someone of the Leakwood family blood line to return and finish the work.”

“P..prison? They’ll send Hermione to wizard prison? Why would they do that? She’s a good person.”

“Because the ministry is very afraid of the machine. Of what it would mean. It would mean that wizards would have the ability to heal the most awful curses of the muggle world. Curses like cancer, incurable viruses, birth defects and many other things. Wizards would no longer be able to hide themselves from the world. Knowing they could cure all of these ills, their conscience would not let them remain in hiding any longer. As long as the machine does not work and the ministry could keep it hidden from the general wizarding population, then they could pretend that it never existed in the first place. They will do anything to keep it from seeing the light of day. And that includes locking up Harry and Hermione then throwing away the key.”

While Bili was explaining all of this, the look on Colette’s disfigured face began to change. She began to realize that she had been confused and angry by the things Griltskin had told her. How could she accuse Bili of not treating her with anything less than perfect dignity? He had given up everything that he once had for her. She could see that now, and worst of all she had betrayed two perfect strangers. She did not do it out of any sense of reason. She did it simply because she was hurt and her thoughts had become all muddled when the strange old wizard had talked to her. Now her head was clear and she was horrified by what she had done. Out of selfishness she had betrayed her dearest Bili and her new friend Hermione. She would have given anything to take it all back. But now, it was far too late.

--- ---

Neville and Ginny were holding hands as they stepped onto the muggle train. The nice folks at the local tavern had given directions on how to find Harry’s place. They both sat down and Neville noticed that Ginny had not bothered to let go.

“Is this okay?” Neville asked pointing to their hands with his free one.

Ginny looked down and then said, “How funny, I didn’t even realize we were still holding hands. Yeah, it’s alright. Actually, it feels kind of nice.”

Ginny, after kissing Neville like he had never dreamed of being kissed, sat him down and had a long talk with him. She was very honest about what she was thinking and about her feelings. She knew that things were very lopsided between them. Neville had already come to the conclusion that he loved her, but she was just starting to see the possibilities of having any feelings for him. She said she knew that it wasn’t fair that he would have to wait for her to sort through her own emotions. However, she also pointed out that it wouldn’t be fair for him to expect her to be at the same level that he was overnight.

Neville agreed with all of the things she said to him. It was the most serious and intimate conversation he had ever had with another human being. Even though it was not everything he hoped it would be, it still was the beginning of what might end up being something special between them. He knew the possibility for love was there, but also the possibility of just being good friends was there as well. He was honest and told Ginny that what he was really hoping for was both at the same time. She smiled at him and told him that no matter what she would treat him with the kindness and respect that he deserved.

In the end he decided that he had waited this long for her, he could wait even longer. She was worth it. Plus, this was going to be a lot more fun, because instead of wondering if there could ever be anything between them from far away, they were figuring it out together. Together was a very nice word in Neville’s book.

In a rare display of romantic courage Neville asked, “So, how long before we can kiss again?”

Ginny laughed warmly and laid her head to rest on his shoulder.

In a gentle voice she replied, “I’ll tell you what. We’ve got some time to kill before we get to our stop. So, why don’t we play a little game? I want to get to know you better. Here’s how it will work. I get to ask you any question I want and you have to answer it honestly. Then as a reward, for your turn you can either ask me a question that I have to answer, ooor… you can kiss me. Then I get to ask another question and we’ll keep going like that. What do you think?”

Neville blinked, “That has got to be the best game I have ever heard of in my whole life. Let’s play this game a lot.”

Ginny laughed and they started. They played it the whole way there.

A Twist In The Tale

A middle-aged man was sitting at a desk writing yet another reply to various incoming owls. It was mind numbing day in and day out. The ministry received hundreds of letters every day and it was his job to open them, read them and forward them to the correct department. If they were nothing more than angry wizarding citizens venting their frustrations, then it was his job to pen a polite and vague reply, being sympathetic but non-committal. He had already opened the thirtieth letter today.

He grabbed for number thirty-one and immediately realized that it was not your typical letter. First off, it was sent in a plain white muggle envelope. It even had a stamp on it, which was quite perplexing. He tapped a finger on his cheek, wondering how a muggle letter was delivered via owl to the Ministry of Magic. He picked up his wand and did a quick swish; a spell to check to see if the contents were somehow cursed or enchanted in anyway. The letter was as plain as a letter could possibly be.

He scratched behind his ear and shrugged. He opened the envelope and pulled out the quaintly folded sheet of paper inside. He unfolded the letter and chuckled to himself. Not only had a muggle letter got somehow mixed into the owl mail system, it was not even sent to the right office. He assumed the owl knew what it was doing when it delivered here and he also gathered that the scrawl on the front of the envelope was addressed to the ministry. He was also confident that if he could read English, that he would have been able to verify that. However, he had not spoken or written any English since he was back in his old Russian grammar school days; and that was over forty years ago.

With a sigh, he placed the letter back in the envelope and resealed it. He then picked up a large rubber stamp and pressed it against the outside. If a person could read Russian, it would have said, `Misdelivery: Re-sort and Re-send'. The letter was then promptly placed in a small alcove where a young house-elf took the letter and put it in a large pile of letters that needed to be translated and then sent to the proper ministry office. The elf estimated that it would not get sent out until sometime next Tuesday.

--- ---

There was a desperate knock on the door. Teebel quickly opened the door to greet whoever might be on the other side. He was surprised to see a very upset looking Bili.

“Teebel is happy to be greeting you good neighbor of Harry Potter's.”

“Yes, yes please forgive my impatience, but I must speak to Harry immediately. I have important news to pass on to him.”

“Oh, Teebel is being sorry to inform you that Harry and Herm-i-nee are both out for a lunch of picnicking. Harry has told Teebel that he will be being back sometime tonight. Can Teebel be helping?”

“Here, take this and give it to Harry the moment he returns. It is very urgent.”

With that he shoved a piece of parchment into Teebel's hands turned and apparated away. Teebel looked down at the letter as he was closing the door. Not sure exactly what to do with it, he placed it carefully on the table in the breakfast nook, knowing that Harry spent time there every day. He would be sure to see it when they returned. He then walked upstairs and grabbed a large feather duster. With a squeal of delight he began to wave his hands in the air as the duster came to life and made quick work of the dusty cabinets.

--- ---

“Actually, I'm kind of glad to get outdoors for a bit,” Harry admitted.

“It is just about a perfect day to have a picnic,” Hermione agreed.

The yellow sun was hanging perfectly in the early afternoon sky. The warm light filled up the small meadow they were lounging in. A large red blanket was stretched out on the grass and the two were lying side by side staring into the piercing blue. Only the occasional wispy cloud would cross the sky at a leisurely pace. Surrounding the meadow were a plethora of trees stretching out their branches into the summer day. The gentle breeze barely had the strength to shift the bright green leaves on their perches.

“We're close Harry, I can really feel it. I think we'll be ready for a dry run tomorrow. I think we'll have many of our questions answered once we see the machine in action.”

“Let's not talk about it right now,” Harry said with a smile. “Let's just be out here and enjoy this moment.”

Hermione grinned, “Of course. You're right. We don't need to worry about everything right now. It is nice out here and I'm glad you thought of it.”

“Did I mention how glad I am that you came to see me?” Harry mused.

Hermione turned her head and looked at Harry. It was not a position she was used to seeing him in. The two of them lying down in the field with the sweet smell of summer flowers flowing over them. He seemed, for the first time that she could remember, at peace with himself. She knew she was always at his side and helping him in anyway she could because she cared about him. But, it was not until this moment she knew exactly what she had been fighting for. Now she did and it was right here beside her. To see Harry happy, to see him content, to see him feel safe. It had all been worth it. Every tear and drop of blood was spent well on his behalf. She would not change one single moment of it.

“Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you happy now? I mean has everything worked out the way you had hoped?”

“Well, I'm not a hundred percent sure how to know when I'm really happy. Though, I think I am. I mean for awhile I wasn't. When you and Ron left, I was sort of unhappy and felt a bit out of place. Then I came here and things got a little better. Then you came and that made things much better. Now, I guess I'd just like to hear from Ron and Ginny and Luna and Neville. Then… then I think things would be perfect. What about you, are you happy?”

Hermione was still looking at Harry as his gaze was lost up in the never ending sky.

“I think I'm like you. I'm not really sure exactly how happy I am.”

Her voice went softer as she said, “I am much happier, now that I'm here.”

Harry turned and looked into her eyes. They seemed so big when she was staring at him. He liked looking into them. It made him feel like he was standing near the edge of this lucid ocean and if he could he would just lose himself there. Each day that went by, his attachment to her grew stronger and stronger. He tried to imagine what it would be like if she went away again and it made his chest tighten up and his throat grow thick.

“Hermione?”

“Yes.”

“Stay here with me.”

“I am here with you,” she smiled.

“No, I mean stay here with me. Don't leave. Make this your home.”

The color must have left her face, because she felt like she was falling. If she had not been lying down, she would have. What is he asking? What does he mean by that? Does he want her to stay for the same reason she wants to stay? How should she answer a question like that? She looked inside and tried to find the right thing to say. What did she really want?

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Harry repeated.

“Yes, I'll stay here with you.”

“Forever?” he asked.

Her heart stopped altogether.

“Forever,” she said earnestly.

Harry gently slid his arm underneath her and pulled her closer. She laid her head on his chest with the rest of her body lying against his side. Instantly her heart began to slow down. The thoughts that were once racing, were now still. Where was all the nervousness? It was as if she had been doing this all her life. In one quick moment their friendship had become something more. She had no idea of what it exactly was. Was there really a word for it? Love? Such a small word. So, strangely innocuous. It was as if Harry and her were somehow connected on such a deep level, that trying to describe it was almost inane.

Harry could smell the fresh strawberries in her hair; just like the night of the Yule Ball. He wondered if he should be saying something right now. Or perhaps it was alright to just be silent. Then a thought crept into his mind.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, Harry, I do love you.”

“I thought so, I just wanted to make sure. You know that I love you too, right?”

She smiled, “Yes, I do know that.”

“Good. I just wanted to make sure is all,” he announced quietly.

Hermione thought back to the last seven years and wondered how she ever thought it would end up any other way.

“Why didn't you kiss me the night of the Yule Ball?” Hermione queried Harry.

“I'm not sure. I guess I was pretty nervous for some reason. I wanted to though.”

He could barely believe how easily the words came out. It was as if telling her anything but the entire truth was somehow impossible. She could ask anything and he would have told her.

“How about now?”

Harry thought about it and said, “Nope. I'm not nervous anymore.”

With a grin he looked down at her and she looked back at him. He closed his eyes and touched his lips to hers. Hermione then closed her eyes and gently rocked her head back and forth as their kiss grew more intense. They both let themselves linger in the moment and kept kissing until their mouths grew tired.

“You hungry?” Harry asked.

“Starved.”

--- ---

“Well, how on earth did we miss an entire manor?” Ginny said disgustedly.

“Good question,” Neville replied.

They should have run into the place a couple miles back. Strangely, they wound up on the beach and were left scratching their heads on how that exactly happened. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky and they were both tired.

“Well, I guess we head west a bit and then backtrack. If we missed it, then I'm sure we missed it in that direction,” Neville said with his hand pointing.

“Alright,” Ginny replied.

They began walking along in the direction that Neville suggested. A ways down the beach they both saw a strange fog coming in from the ocean.

“That's an odd color,” Ginny whispered.

“Yeah, it does seem a bit off, doesn't it?”

As they drew closer to it, both of them started to feel uneasy. Not that anything was particularly out of place, it was just a gut feeling. Ginny fluttered her hand in the air searching for Neville's. Instinctively he reached out and grabbed a hold of it.

Then from overhead a shrill squawk announced the presence of an owl. Neville looked up and noticed how tiny the thing was. It looked awfully familiar to him for some reason.

“Hey, its Pigwidgeon,” Ginny exclaimed excitedly. “Ron must be sending a letter to Harry. How funny is that?”

Neville felt a smile cross his face, but just as quickly it was wiped away.

“Why is it coming in for a landing way out here?” Neville blurted out.

“Look!” Ginny whispered harshly. “Its… its flying into… is that a cave? Why did Pig fly into that cave? That's not right. That's not right at all. Something's wrong Neville. What if Pig is hurt?!”

Neville's mind sprung into action. He pulled out his wand and began racing toward the cave with Ginny in tow. Without even realizing it the two of them went straight into the fog. Both of them stopped at the cave entrance and looked inside. It was simply too dark to see well.

“Neville, does this air smell funny to you?”

He sniffed the air and the sensation made him dizzy. It had a strange smell that he somehow remembered. After thinking he recognized it.

“It smells a bit like the hallways of St. Mungos. Kind of like the smell of people when they are really sick,” he answered.

“You're right, it does smell like sick people. It must be this fog.”

Without further contemplation they both stepped inside. Ginny had her wand out and had cast `Lumos'. Neville had his wand at the ready as he carefully made his way by her side. The cave became a tunnel and dipped down a ways, before coming back up. As they cleared the highest point in their path they entered a section of the cavern that opened up into a large alcove. There in the center of it Pig was lying down, wings spread haphazardly.

Ginny gasped and ran forward to check on Ron's owl. She reached down and felt Pig's chest. It was slowly moving in and out.

“Still breathing,” she said with relief.

“Thank goodness,” Neville responded. “Ginny, I'm not feeling particularly well.”

He was beginning to have a difficult time standing up. He knelt down on one knee in an attempt to steady himself. Everything started spinning around him and he began to fall forward.

“Ginny, I feel…” were the last three words he said before passing out.

Ginny might have said something in return if she had not passed out already as well.

--- ---

Neville awoke and looked around him. Ginny was beginning to stir just a few feet away. He felt groggy, but found the strength to slowly stand up. He noticed immediately that Pig was gone. He stepped over to Ginny and gently lifted her to a stand. She shook her head and tried to get her bearings.

“Pigwidgeon is gone,” Neville explained.

“Is it just me, or have the waves got a lot louder?” she replied.

Neville noticed it too. He walked over to the tunnel and realized that it was completely filled with water.

“The tide is in,” he groaned.

“Let's see if we can apparate out,” Ginny offered.

They both tried, but it did not work. Neville began to fire off any number of spells, each one failed.

“Ginny, try other spells,” he pleaded.

Ginny quickly ran through a number of familiar spells herself, but each one failed as well. They looked around and noticed a small fire pit giving off warmth and light.

“How did we miss that?” Neville asked out loud.

“This is seriously creepy,” Ginny said in a worried voice.

“No magic, tide is in… we're trapped here. At least until the tide goes back out again,” Neville grumbled.

The two of them stepped over to the small fire and sat down dejectedly. There was nothing to do now, but wait it out.

-->

Author’s Note: Due to a mistake in posting the last chapter, I accidentally placed in two copies of Chapter 10. One went in as 10 and the second was made Chapter 11. I quickly removed the duplicate. However, when I posted the actual Chapter 11, the site would not recognize it as a new chapter and so my fic was never bumped up. The moral of the story is that, in case you missed it, be sure to go back and read Chapter 11 before going on to Chapter 12 below. Thanks and sorry for the confusion. Btw – this chapter is short. I meant it to be. A lot of things happen in very little time. I didn’t want to cram too much down your throat at once, so no complaining. ;-)

Hermione looked over at Harry and could not help but feel like her life was out of place. She was sure that the confession of love should have somehow changed everything. Instead, it was surprisingly the same. The furtive looks, the knowing smiles, and the feeling that the two of them were sharing an inside joke that the rest of the world could only guess at. These had been a part of who they were for so long that what should have been highlights of a blossoming relationship were merely commonplace.

After giving it some thought the only thing that made sense was in reality they had been sharing a relationship of love all these years, but only now found the courage and the time to delve into what was already there. Perhaps she had always loved him… with a quick knowing smile it made sense. Of course, things were not different. The only thing that had truly changed was they had finally admitted what had always been there. Love had been a constant companion she carried in her heart, but was too close to it to realize what it was.

Love is so funny she thought to herself. It’s not at all what she imagined it to be, and yet it was so very much more. He had asked her to stay and made her promise to use words like ‘love’ and ‘forever’. These words meant nothing in the world of academia, save for being afterthoughts in literature and poetry. Now, they meant something very personal to her. They were two words that described a deep part of who she was and they made her life seem so very much more whole than before.

“We ready?” Harry shouted.

“Everything looks good!” she shouted back.

With a funny grin he reached out and pulled firmly on the lever standing just a few feet from The Great Machine. Unlike all the creations by mad scientists in film, this marvel of science was extraordinarily quiet. The only real noise came at the release of hot water vapor from the steam engine that drove the machines hydraulics. With a powerful wooshing noise the outer brass shell lifted straight up into a large opening in the ceiling. Underneath it lay the heart of the whole thing. Brass and iron gears of various shapes and sizes were perfectly aligned and encircled what appeared to be a cushioned throne with long leather straps to hold a person inside. Claw like arms were holding everything in place, but were on an elaborate pulley system that would allow them to perform adjustments and perform feats that were impossible since when operated the outer covering would be in place.

Even stranger still were the magical runes etched with mathematical precision in various places. The hydraulic system was filled with a number of viscous enchanted potions carefully prepared. Even the central chair had a protective enchantment placed on it, to protect the person who was sitting inside the behemoth. Harry let out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Great, great grandfather Heaglevert was quite a man,” he said reverently.

“Oh my yes,” Hermione quickly agreed. “A mental giant for a man of his time. There are powerful magics here and at the same time he was using levels of science that few people could even begin to understand back then.”

Hearing Hermione say that made Harry puff up with pride. The question still remained what exactly went wrong with the whole thing. Why was he not able to save Amelia?

“Amelia,” Harry called out. “Are you there?”

“Of course I am silly. Did you think I would miss this moment?” she said in exasperation.

“She’s here,” Harry filled Hermione in. Since she was not near her grave or inside of Harry, Hermione had no way of knowing what she was saying.

“Did your father ever actually use this on you?”

“Yes. But it was before the machine was finished and he told me that it would not help me yet. He just needed to make sure that I would fit inside and be comfortable and safe. It didn’t hurt at all. It was a little scary, but I trust my papa.”

“Did he say what was missing when he did the trial run?”

“Papa said he left out the most important part on purpose. He said he would not do that until he made sure everything else was working.”

“Was it? Working I mean?”

“Well… he was never very clear about that. Something had to channel all the magic through the person. The only way to channel the magic through a muggle was science he told me. That’s all I know. I’m sorry. Then the ministry came and tried to make Papa stop. He pretended to destroy everything, but he really didn’t. When it was all over he said we were going to do it for real the next day, after he finished the last few things. But, I… I died in my sleep that night…”

Her voice trailed off into a whisper. Harry turned to Hermione and repeated everything that she had said. Hermione mutely nodded her head in understanding. If the ministry had not meddled then he would not have lost any time and would have been able to use the machine to try and save her. Instead, that lost time translated to failure and the death of his youngest daughter. He was never the same after that. He simply closed the cellar up and walked away from it all. He then wrote six more pages into his journal, but what he wrote was now gone. Torn from the binding and forever lost to the world.

Hermione bit her lip in thought.

“Harry, ask Amelia what her father was going to use to channel the magic.”

Though Hermione could not hear Amelia, she could hear her quite well.

“Papa had a very special lens. He said it was the same kind of lens used by a man named Galileo. I remembered the name ‘cause it was kind of funny. I can’t really remember what exactly it was though.” Amelia said seriously.

Harry turned to Hermione and once again repeated what he had been told word for word.

“Interesting… Galileo she said? Then he was definitely using a telescope lens. How funny… but how incredibly simple. He treated magic as if it were light. Which of course is one of the least understood things in science. It acts like a wave, but at the same time it acts like particles. It still baffles many scientists even now. Who would have thought that a machine could be built that would somehow refine magic down to its simplest form and then treat it as if it were nothing more than common sunlight? Focus it down to a tight point and allow it to pass through a person’s body. I can honestly say I have no earthly idea of how that would be done. Oh Harry, he is a genius. He is so far beyond my understanding I can’t even being to tell you. So, that must be what he realized… that magic in its most basic and primitive state has the most amazing ability; to cure any illness known to mankind.”

She slowly walked over to Harry and put her arms around him and began to weep. Harry was caught off guard and he was immediately concerned over her outburst. Something told him to say nothing at all, to just hold her. She cried and she cried.

After some time had passed he finally asked, “What… what’s wrong? Why are you sad?”

She looked up at him with tears on her cheeks, “Harry, I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’ve just learned something that no other witch or wizard alive today knows. The real power of magic is not in our unwieldy spells, potions and hexes. It is much deeper and more important than that. Harnessing magic and pairing it with the knowledge of science has the power to change the whole world. To make it a better and safer place. The repercussions of what we’ve learned here will alter the course of every man, woman and child. I’m crying because I am overwhelmed with how important what we are doing really is. I’m crying because I’m happy.”

Harry had no words to respond with and so he simply held her. In the room a ghostly girl was doing the same... crying tears of joy.

--- ---

Teebel was merrily cleaning up the breakfast nook when he realized that Harry and Hermione had not eaten here since they returned. Bili’s letter was still sitting neatly on the table. He felt a bit of a panic realizing he had made a terrible mistake. He grabbed it and quickly made his way down to find Harry and try to make amends. He hoped that whatever the letter said would not come to Harry’s attention too late.

Then he began to think of the possibility of Harry being very angry at him for forgetting to give him the important letter. What if he was so mad that he made Teebel leave? What if Teebel were to get replaced by a good house-elf who never forgets to give their master very important letters from their neighbor? There was nowhere else for him to go. This was his home. Harry was his family now and he had to serve his family. It was his life… it was everything…

He started to feel a terrible pain in his little heart. He began to hiccup as he worried more and more. Hard as he tried to stop, the hiccupping got worse. He covered his mouth and for the first time in a long time felt very afraid. He loved Harry.

As quick as the wind he apparated to his small cubby hole of a room and quickly stashed the parchment under the small cot that he slept on each night. He decided if he just pretended it never happened everything would be alright. It was not really ‘betraying’ Harry Potter, he kept telling himself. Harry needed him here to take care of him and pretty Herm-i-nee. Harry would be lost without him if he made him go away. Yes, that was it… he was doing this for Harry’s own good. With that he went about his daily routine trying very hard not to think about it.

--- ---

“The tide seems to be going down,” Neville announced.

Ginny looked over and agreed with him.

“If we don’t mind getting a little wet, we could wade through the water and get back to the beach,” he continued.

“Okay,” Ginny nodded, “let’s do it then.”

The two of them scrambled down the tunnel and worked their way through the push and pull of the waist high waves. After about ten minutes of struggling they both came out of the cave entrance into the daylight. The fog had lifted and everything was clear and smelled like fresh, salty ocean air.

Holding each other’s hands they silently began to follow their original path, backtracking to where they decided Leakwood Manor actually was located.

Off in the distance, in the opposite direction stood a long, sinewy figure. Holding itself up with a crooked cane he watched as the two of them began to make their way. His hoarse voice was heard by no one.

“Hurry now little children. I have bought all the time I needed. You can run to your little friends now. Everything is set in motion and I can smell my victory on the summer wind.”

--- ---

“THERE IS NO WAY HERMIONE!”

“Stop shouting, I’m right next to you,” she replied calmly.

The two of them were standing at the top of the stairs just down the hall from the cellar.

“You are most definitely NOT going to be a guinea pig. I absolutely refuse to do this,” he exclaimed angrily.

She knew his anger came from his fear. She could read him like a first year spell book.

“I’ll be perfectly safe. What better test can you run then on a live subject? Especially one who can accurately describe everything that happens to them. It makes complete sense for me to be the one,” she said calmly.

“If anyone should be risking their life it should be me,” he implored.

“No one’s life is being risked Harry. Amelia told you that nothing happened to her when she experienced it. Plus, no one should be pulling the on-switch for this thing except for you. The switch is in your family crypt for goodness sake. I absolutely promise you that nothing will happen to me.”

“You promise? I can’t lose you… I just can’t.”

“You won’t,” she replied soothingly. “I want to do this. Let me do this for you Harry.”

Harry dropped his head and let out a long sigh.

“Alright, but… just be careful.”

“I’m in your hands Harry and I trust you implicitly.”

“Yeah, well… that might be a mistake,” came the grumpy reply.

Hermione laughed. Despite the passing years, some things about Harry never changed.

“Before we do this, I just thought of something,” Harry told her.

“What’s that?”

“What does knee cartilage have to do with the machine anyways?”

“Um, you lost me Harry.”

“When I first found the journal I read something about the ‘Faultless Meniscus’. Isn’t meniscus the cartilage in your knee?”

Hermione smiled, “Yes, there is cartilage in your knee called the meniscus. However, the word has multiple meanings. I’m confidant that is not the meaning Heaglevert was using. Faultless of course being a synonym for perfect is the easy part. Meniscus, in this case, is an old term used for a lens. So, to put it plainly, the book was referring to a perfect lens. I take that to mean, that we are going to need to get our hands on one reeeeally well made and polished telescope lens for it to work right.”

“Oh… that makes a lot more sense. Where are we going to get one?”

Hermione thought for a second and said, “Well, there is an excellent astronomy shop in Diagon Alley. We can definitely get one there. They use magic to ensure that their lenses are one hundred percent aberration free.”

“Oh good, that’s a relief. I was worried it might be hard to get one,” Harry replied.

“Well, in your great, great grandfather’s time it certainly would have been. Which is why he most likely stressed it in his journal.”

Harry shook his head, “To be honest, I do hate having to take the extra time to go all the way out there to get one.”

A tiny clearing of the throat came from a few feet away.

“Perhaps Harry would ask his two friends to be getting one for him,” Teebel said with a happy expression.

“Two friends?” Hermione asked.

“There is being a shy young man and a nice young lady with very much red hair waiting in the entrance to be seeing you.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with surprise. It slowly turned to broad grins. They grabbed each other’s hands and bounced up the stairs, down the hall and into the foyer. There waiting for them were two tired looking, but a happy Ginny and Neville.

Hermione looked down and pointed at Neville and Ginny holding hands. Ginny then immediately pointed at her and Harry holding hands. Neville smile at Harry and Harry smiled right back. Then the inevitable happened. Ginny and Hermione completely lost their collective minds. They both squealed at a pitch reserved for soprano opera singers and five year old little girls. Then with sheer abandon they threw their arms around each other and began to giggle hysterically.

Ginny spoke first, “So, you’re with…”

Hermione bounced in, “And, you’re with…”

They both squealed again and grabbed each others hands and jumped up and down both telling each other how happy they were for one another. Looking appropriately embarrassed Harry and Neville just gave each other goofy grins and waited for the two girls to come back down to the land of slightly more normal. They had to wait awhile.

“Something is definitely not right around here, why are all these weird things happening?” Hermione asked.

“You got me,” Neville answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Someone is obviously trying to sabotage Harry’s work,” Ginny said angrily.

Harry looked thoughtfully at his three companions. He tried to put all the puzzle pieces together, but large chunks of information were missing. How were all the owls intercepted? What and where did the strange fog come from? Who was this ~a friend~ who seemed to be able to get owls through in spite of the fact that no one else could? What exactly was the situation with Colette and why had Bili not come by to explain? All these thoughts gave him a headache.

“Well,” Harry started, “I think the moral of this story is that we appear to be under someone or something’s scrutiny. I can only guess that they want us to fail in our endeavor. That makes me want to get it accomplished even more. We need to go ahead and do an experimental run of the machine. Perhaps our answers will lie in uncovering the rest of my great, great grandfather’s work.”

The other three nodded their heads and agreed.

“So Ginny, what have you heard from Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, he has probably sent me tons of owls and I of course haven’t gotten a single one. What is he up to?” Harry followed enthusiastically.

“Well,” Ginny said with a sly grin, “he and Luna decided to go on a trip together. At first Ron was just visiting, but Luna’s father believes he is on to a story about Sherpa monks who have learned to become animagus, despite the fact that they are verified muggles. Apparently they can turn into silk moths on a whim. Luna asked Ron to go and he said yes, so they are somewhere in the Tibetan Himalayas.”

“You’re joking right?” Hermione quipped.

“No, he really went,” Neville said with a nervous laugh.

The four of them just sat there with incomprehensible looks on their faces.

“Well… isn’t that nice for them… Tibet? Wow, I’m not sure… silk moths you say? Hmm,” was the only reply Harry could offer.

They all let out a warm laugh at the idea of Ron wrapped up in yak hides and traipsing around Tibetan temples, asking monks about their shape changing behavior.

Hermione stood straight up as her face was taught with concentration.

“Oh my gosh!”

Everyone stopped laughing and looked at her.

“I’m so stupid, how could I have not seen it!”

She began to pace the room fervently. Harry wanted to ask, but knew now was not the time to interrupt her.

“I must be getting addled in my old age.”

Harry stood up and walked a few pace toward her without saying a word. She turned around and began shaking her hand wildly as she spoke.

“I don’t know why it took me this long to realize it, but I just realized how close this scrutinizer really is. When Amelia told me that she was taken to doctors it was an immediate clue that she was not the witch I assumed she was. I got the exact same clue from Colette and it never even dawned on me what she had said. She specifically told me that her ‘physician’ had given her orders. Her physician! Not her healer… she’s a muggle, just like Amelia. That’s why she hasn’t been cured, because nothing has changed. All these generations have come and gone and still the wizard healers refuse to take muggle patients. You know what this means Harry?!”

Harry looked off in the distance with a strange look on his face and spoke softly, “Yes, I know exactly what it means. It means we have someone to test the machine on for real. To use it in the exact way that Heaglevert had intended, to cure a muggle of an incurable disease.”

Neville and Ginny looked at each other and then back at Harry.

“I’ll prepare the machine. I want the three of you to apparate over to Bili’s estate right away and do whatever you have to do to convince them we can help her.”

“Harry… what if Bili already knows… what if he is some kind of monster keeping Colette sick against her will? Maybe he doesn’t want her to get better and he is the one who has been sabotaging our efforts,” Hermione spoke seriously.

“She’s right Harry,” Ginny replied. “How do we know who our friends and who our enemies really are? Maybe Bili is controlling that fog.”

Harry began to walk out of the room and then stopped. Without turning around he spoke ominously.

“I never said to get Bili’s permission. Just get her over here; however you have to do that. If Bili cares for her, then he will want this, if he doesn’t… then I’m not about to let him stand in the way of Colette getting well.”

With that he made his way down to the cellar. The three of them stood still for a minute, but then suddenly became animated and took action.

“Right,” Neville said, “you heard Harry. Let’s go get this poor woman and save her… from whoever she needs saving from.”

Ginny shook her head furiously up and down. Hermione nodded as well and the three of them pulled their wands out. Without question they all put their complete faith in Harry and his great, great grandfather’s machine. Before the day’s end a miracle was going to happen and Harry Potter was just the wizard to pull it off.

--- ---

“I need you to do this for me Teebel,” Harry pleaded. “You absolutely must not let me down. Can I trust you?”

Teebel feeling a deep sense of guilt for hiding the letter from him that he agreed wholeheartedly. Perhaps this would somehow make up for not giving Harry the letter. Not that Harry knew anything about it, but it still made Teebel feel better to do this for him.

“You can be counting on me. Teebel is not letting Harry Potter down.”

“Are you sure you understand what I need? It’s very important that you get exactly what I have written down and I can’t stress enough that time is something we don’t have. So, do whatever elf magic you need to and fly like the wind.”

“I am leaving at this very right now Harry and I will be back as quick as any house-elf has ever been coming back.”

With a small parchment in his hand Teebel disappeared with a snap. In his possession were the exact specifications for a telescope lens that would fit into the slot above the throne, inside of The Great Machine. Neither hell, nor high water was about to get in Teebel’s way. Harry needed him and he was going to do everything in his power to come through for him.

--- ---

“What on earth is taking the blasted ministry so long to get here? They should have mounted a full scale assault on Harry and his hapless crew by now.”

Griltskin was once again pacing up and down the narrow length of beach outside of his cave. As long as a descendant of the Leakwood line was actually somewhere on the property, then he could not bypass the protective enchantments. However, once Harry was forcefully removed from the place he would have nothing standing between him and the Eye of Narlroot. He was so close he could almost taste it. He would have sent a letter to the ministry himself, but he was a marked man. The letter would have been disregarded, or worse they would find a way to track it back to him. The curse placed upon him not only gave him a grotesque form of immortality, it also made it so no witch or wizard would believe a word that came from his mouth or written by his hand. Fortunately for him, Colette was no witch and confusing her weak mind had been quite easy.

By his estimation the ministry should have already received the owl and sent in the Unspeakables to come and ‘clean’ up the situation. It was no small source of irritation that they had yet to show. He was so desperately close and yet so horribly far away. The sapphire that could cure him was almost within his grasp. He quickly decided that once he had it, Azkaban was too good for the last of the Leakwood clan. It was his sapphire; he was the one who got swallowed by the great dragon. He was the one who found the thing inside the beast. He was the one who had the muggle jeweler hone it down to sweet perfection. It was his. The Leakwoods stole it and they would pay for taking it from him. He would find delicious new ways to torture and kill Potter. Oh, yes indeed.

--- ---

"Colette?" Hermione called out. "Colette, are you there?"

A woman's voice called back from one of the rooms at the top of the stairs.

"Hermione? Is that you? I'm so sorry. Bili isn't here right now or we would have properly greeted you. Please come up straight away. I've been anxious to speak to you. I feel so terrible for what I've done. My dearest and I talked at length about it and I truly must apologize."

Ginny and Neville looked inquisitively at Hermione, who merely shrugged her shoulders in confusion. She then went straight into wealthy upper-crust speak to make Colette feel more at ease.

"I have two frightfully close friends who have come to visit Harry and I. I told them about your wonderful estate and they simply had to come and see it. Do you mind if they come up with me?"

There was a moment of hesitation and then Colette responded, "Of course, of course. Any friends of yours are friends of mine. Do come up."

The three of them made their way up to the dining hall and then on to the sitting room where Colette was sitting in her favorite chair. She turned toward them when they walked in, despite her blindness.

"It is so good to see you," Hermione said earnestly.

"And you as well. Please sit down; I have so much to tell you."

"Colette, I have to apologize. Our time is so short. I am asking you to place a great deal of faith in me right now. I want to help you. I... I want you to come back with us. I have no idea of how to even begin..."

Colette cut Hermione off with a whisper, "You mean... you actually got it working? The machine I mean?"

"Yes, well we think we have... but, how did you know?"

"I... I'd rather not say. Do you think it can help me?"

Hermione's answer was very careful, "I believe it can Colette. I believe it will cure your illness."

"Will it make me pretty again?"

"I'm not sure... I know it will cure you, but I don't know what kind of restorative capabilities it has. All we can do is try."

Colette began to wring her hands. She wanted to wait for Bili to return, but if he was right about this magical ministry coming to shut everything down, this could be her last chance. Did she really want to be saved?

"Alright. I'll do it. For my Bili. He would want me to. Take me with you."

Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief. She was not normally one to give in to irrational fears, but she distinctly felt that whatever was out there trying to stop them was growing impatient. A sense of real danger crowded her thoughts and try as she might she could not shake it. Neville and Hermione reached down and helped Colette to her feet. Now it was just a matter of getting her over to the manor.

--- ---

A small grey owl came in for a landing inside the Ministry of Magic's owlery. Attached to its leg was a rather plain looking white envelope. A house-elf reached out for it and took it down to the mail reception area. Stamped right on it was a delivery code from the Russian Ministry of Magic. Somehow the letter got mixed up in delivery. Thinking how odd that was the elf immediately brought it down to one of the wizards in charge of incoming information. The young wizard looked at the letter and quickly opened it.

He read through it once and immediately sat down. He read it again and a touch of sweat appeared on his brow. He pulled out a rubber stamp and brought it down hard on the outside of the letter. It marked the following quite clearly: Immediate Action Required on the part of the Unspeakables. He then handed it back to the elf who shuddered at the request that followed. She was to immediately deliver this into the hands of the department head of the Unspeakables. She had only been there once before in her entire life and it was a frightening experience at best. She had no choice in the matter. The young wizard insisted that it was an emergency. With a resigned look on her face she apparated down to the lowest level of the ministry and quietly walked up to a large door. With a polite knock she waited. A voice from inside told her to come in.

A very powerful wizard was sitting at a large, black oak desk. His eyes looked piercingly at her. With a trembling hand she reached up and placed the letter on the desk and quickly ran out of the room. The wizard picked up the letter and read its contents. A look of concern and then anger swept across his face.

"Well, well, well. It appears that someone has decided that sleeping dragons are not best left alone."

He stood up and made his way to a strange looking oblong crystal. He gently touched it and it immediately lit up and caused the room to glow. He then spoke quite calmly.

"We have a serious problem. You are to gather together a group of eight or nine of your most trusted. This is what needs to be done..."

--- ---

Hermione strapped Colette in with the utmost of care. She would stop often to ask if she was comfortable.

"Surprisingly, it is quite comfortable. If I didn't know you were strapping me in, I would feel right at home," Colette said with a smile in her voice.

After a few more moments Hermione spoke again, "Okay, I am going to pull a lever that will bring down a shell that will enclose you. Right now we are just waiting for Teebel to return with the lens we need. Harry assured me he would be here any minute."

"It all sounds so terribly complicated," Colette said with excitement.

"In a way it is the most complex machine anyone has ever built, but the actual concept of how it works is incredibly simple," Hermione said in turn.

"In other words, only a genius could do it," Colette laughed.

"Exactly," Hermione answered with a smile.

--- ---

"How did Teebel be winding up inside of this cave?" the house-elf said aloud.

In his right hand he held a pouch that contained a very expensive, very capable telescope lens from the finest astronomical shop in Diagon Alley.

"First, Teebel is trying to come home and now he is not being at home. Hmmm."

The elf snapped his fingers and looked crestfallen when nothing happened. He snapped his fingers again and still nothing. A distinct worry could be heard in his voice.

"Uh, oh..."

--- ---

Harry looked at Amelia and she at him.

"This is it," she said.

"Yes, yes it is," Harry replied. "I'm really sorry. You know desecrating your grave and all like this."

"Oh, it's fine. I don't mind at all," she replied in an upbeat voice.

The switch to start the machine was inconveniently located just inside Amelia's stone coffin. It was quite upsetting for Harry to open it and see a tiny skeleton lying inside. Amelia reminded him that she was not in there. That she was right here in front of him. All that lay there was a bunch of bones that were not even remotely important to her. He tried hard to concentrate on that thought.

Harry was merely waiting for Teebel to return with the lens. Hermione would set it in place and then send word by Neville for Harry to start it up. He sat there with his thoughts and ran through each and every piece of the machine in his mind. Every diagram and chart, every word written by his ancestor, every brass wheel and every iron cog. He could see it in his mind's eye and it all seemed to click. Everything made perfect sense to him and he knew exactly how the machine worked, down to the last detail. He also then realized exactly why it would not work. His heart sank inside of his chest. There was no way the machine could actually work. Concentrating all the magic down to a single point and running it through a person would not cure any problems unless the focal point just happened to drop exactly where the problem lies. What were the odds of that? A thousand to one, no more like a million to one. Harry felt his whole world crash down around him. There was no way to save Colette.

"Amelia?"

"Yes Harry?"

"It won't work. There's a terrible flaw in the design of the machine. I just couldn't see it until now."

Amelia could feel the terrible disappointment in Harry's voice. Her own thoughts grew sad and heavy. He sounded so certain.

"We don't need a beam of pure magic; we need a whole wave of pure magic for it to work. A telescope lens simply doesn't work that way. You would need something very different. Something that would refract the magic into thousands of... little... rays..."

Harry's voice trailed off as a thought started to form.

"We don't need a lens, we need a prism! A perfect prism! THE perfect prism!" Harry yelled out.

"Where are we going to get that?" Amelia asked.

Harry smiled at her, "We already have one. It's been here since the very beginning and I just couldn't see it until now."

Harry carefully placed the great sapphire called Eye of Narlroot into the outturned claws designed to hold a lens into place. It fit as perfectly as if it was meant to be there. He glanced upward and noticed something he had somehow missed before. The inside of the sleeve that would soon cover the throne was polished to a perfect sheen. The surface was almost to the point of being a mirror. Again, perfect for refracting light; or in this case magic, a thousand times over. It began to dawn on him that Heaglevert had modified the machine after his first attempt. He had come to the same conclusion as Harry had. He made changes in the machine to compensate for it. His great, great grandfather had even adjusted the holding claws to fit the Eye just so.

What Harry would not give for those torn out six pages of the journal. What would the pages say? What was learned and why did he have to hide what he discovered from the world? Somehow, Harry still felt that above it all the machine was still going to do what it had been designed for. He knew that Heaglevert would have destroyed the machine if it harmed rather than done good. So, here the moment was before him. Colette patiently strapped in and ready to go. All of her trust placed in him. He could feel Amelia’s hovering presence nearby and knew that she too had put all her hopes with Harry. He turned around and saw Ginny and Neville excited by the moment that would soon come. There also, was Hermione, her eyes intently staring not at the machine, but at Harry. They reflected the love and trust she shared with him. He was going to marry that girl, he had no doubt. His life, his future was completely in his own hands. He could do with it anything he wanted… and this was most definitely what it would be.

“Are you ready?” Harry said looking back at Colette.

Colette’s cloak was gone. Her tormented body was wrapped only in a pair of cotton pants and a white shirt. All the ravages her illness had done to her stood out in the open. She was for the first time in many years, completely exposed to others. Her total humiliation had been quickly replaced by a fervent hope. Perhaps this great machine would give her eyesight back to her as well. Hermione seemed to have total faith. That faith reflected inside of her as well. When everything was done her dearest Bili would see her and would never be afraid to touch her again. She began to tremble in anticipation of how it would all turn out.

Harry stepped back and with a resolute motion, pulled the lever toward him. An eerie silence filled the room as the huge brass sleeve closed down around Colette’s seated form.

In a whisper Ginny spoke, “Harry? We’re doing the right thing aren’t we?”

“It will give her the second chance the wizarding healers never would. Here and now is when we throw off the repression of ages of hate and mistrust between muggles and our world. I will not stand one more day in which those who suffer and could be helped are turned away, because of who they are. When we prove that The Great Machine works, we will tell the world and each and every last person who suffers will be welcome here. My great, great grandfather would have wanted it no other way.”

Ginny, Neville and Hermione simply stared back in awe. The magnitude of what Harry was saying truly would change the world. The three of them would have an opportunity to be a part of it. They could feel history being re-written right here inside this hidden cellar.

“Okay, everyone out of the room,” Hermione spoke out.

The four of them quickly shuffled out the door and Harry shut it behind them. Teebel stood at the end of the hallway, which was as close as he would ever come. He wanted to be here to see what the great Harry Potter was going to do.

“Wait here,” Harry commanded the others.

With that, Harry walked doggedly to the family crypt. He slipped inside the darkness and made his way to the back archway. He stepped up to Amelia’s open coffin. There standing nearby was the ghostly figure of the girl he knew as his only real family. The Dursley’s already forgotten and left in the smoke of the past left behind.

“I believe in you Harry Potter,” she said earnestly.

He smiled back at her. He climbed up and looked inside. There lay the still figure of a nine year old girl’s skeleton. A monument to the terrible bigotry of the wizards and witches through the ages. How they would commiserate over the ill treatment at the hands of the muggles throughout history and yet how with all the knowledge and power they had did nothing more than turn their backs on those who needed them the most.

“What a terrible waste,” Harry muttered under his breath.

He reached down and curved his fingers around the small, ball-handled switch that would start the machine. He closed his eyes and waited for the right moment. He counted each breath he took, when he reached ten, he jerked his arm forward and set it all in motion. All was silent throughout the manor, except for one small place.

Inside The Great Machine sat a woman whose life had been irreparably damaged. A strange whirring sound began and she could hear the thing come to life. Long brass arms made metallic whooshing sounds as they pushed and pulled large cogs and gears into a feverous motion. The chamber felt warm against her exposed skin. She dearly wished she could see it all happening. Then a strange sensation occurred. A million tiny pin points of light lit up her vision. She could not see anything else, but she could see them. In a way, she could feel the soft lights go through her like a gentle breeze. A sound like an old man’s voice could be heard echoing through her mind.

“I set out to heal my sweet daughter. Alas, for her it is too late. Now, here some time in the distant future, a descendant of my family has returned to finish my work. Will he or she learn the true secret? Will you? Hold your breath… when it is all done you will be the very first. Don’t be afraid.”

Colette did not recognize the voice, but it was strangely calming. She held her breath and kept so very still. The lights became intensely bright and changed the whole world from black to fiery white. Then as quickly as it began, it ended. The giant was now silent.

--- ---

“Here it goes.”

Harry pulled the lever back and waited. The giant brass pipe lifted up into the ceiling. There sitting serenely was Colette waiting.

.

.

.

Ginny gasped.

.

.

.

Neville closed his eyes.

.

.

.

Hermione felt the sting of tears immediately touch her eyes. They began to pour from her face. She covered her face with her hands.

With pain in her voice she finally spoke, “It didn’t work… How can this be? … It didn’t work. Harry?”

Harry shook his head in total defeat. Heaglevert was wrong. Amelia was wrong. He was wrong. The machine simply did not work. He had failed. It was one of the darkest moments of his life.

“I failed,” he whispered, “Ginny, set her free.”

Harry turned his back and walked out of the Leakwood cellar. He walked down the hall and up the stairs. He wandered through the floor until he came back to the crypt. He did not stop until he made it all the way to the back. He sat down next to Amelia’s coffin, onto the cold ground. Tears dropped into the dust from his eyes.

Amelia looked down at him. She felt a terrible frustration run through her, but that paled in comparison to the sadness she felt for Harry. She wanted so badly to wrap her arms around him and give him comfort. She could not, so she simply drifted down by his side and wrapped her ghostly arms inside of him.

“Don’t be sad,” she said to him. “You didn’t fail. You did everything in your power and that is all my Papa could have ever asked. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

Harry said nothing and simply sat in the dark room and wished with all his might that it could have been different.

--- ---

“So, it didn’t work?” Colette asked timidly.

“It… it doesn’t look like it. How do you feel?” Hermione asked cautiously.

“Well, I still can’t see and I’m still in a lot of pain, so I guess… I guess it didn’t work.”

Colette tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. She knew it was still there, but this was no different from every other time she had let herself give in to false hope. She had grown familiar with failure. At least she had all these new friends. For now, that would do.

“It’s alright,” she told the three of them, “it’s sad that this didn’t work out, but believe me when I say that life will go on; for all of you and for Bili and I. You’ll see, you’ll see.”

Hermione threw her arms around Colette and held her closely.

--- ---

“Harry, it is me Teebel.”

Harry could hear the house-elf’s voice from outside of the crypt.

“I am being very sorry to disturb you, but there is an owl that is delivering a letter to you and is not giving it to me. I am thinking you must be getting it.”

Harry pulled himself up to standing and forced his legs to walk. He came to the side of Teebel and the elf led him to the front door. There on the doorstep was the same brown owl that had delivered the warning letter that he had received a few days ago. The owl pumped its wings and flew to Harry’s outstretched arm. There was a roll of parchment with his name on the outside of it. He carefully removed it and unrolled the letter.

I hope this letter finds you well. I am afraid that I am again the bearer of bad news. The Ministry of Magic has been made aware of your activities and they are on their way now. You will have but an hour at most before their arrival. I need to stress how important this is; you MUST destroy the machine. If they were to find it operational then you will be arrested and likely imprisoned. Have you figured out my clues yet? Not that I doubt your abilities of deduction, but perhaps I will nudge you in the right direction. The one who would betray you has already committed their act. The one who would see you succeed is the one who waited for you. The one who seeks that which you have hidden away has yet to be revealed. Keep your eyes open, your story is not done quite yet. By the way I am in contact with a neighbor of yours.

~A Friend~

“My friend sure is irritating,” Harry snapped. “Teebel, how much power over witches and wizards do you have?”

“I am not understanding,” the elf answered.

“If I were to directly order you to do something that would involve making two witches, a wizard and a muggle to be forcibly transported against their will, could you do it?”

“Harry is asking the most peculiar question. It is not normal for house-elves to be doing such things, unless it were being a grave emergency.”

“Good choice of words,” Harry muttered. “Teebel I order you to, by any means necessary, take Hermione, Colette, Ginny and Neville over to Bilibaum’s estate and keep them there until all of this blows over. It is a life and death emergency and I will not take no as a reply.”

Teebel trembled. This was not the Harry he was used to. However, he was bound to do this for him.

“I will be doing this for you Harry Potter. Though I would not be doing this for any other.”

Teebel snapped his fingers and was gone. Harry sighed. If the ministry was on its way, then he was not about to let his friends go down with him. Within minutes a small box appeared at his feet. A nervous looking Teebel was next to it.

“Umm, yes, this is a thing coming from Herm-i-nee. I am going back now.”

Teebel immediately left the area. Harry shook his head and picked up the box. He opened it, only to be greeted by a howler that sounded suspiciously like Hermione.

“HARRY POTTER! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF HOW MUCH TROUBLE YOU ARE IN?! AS SOON AS I FIND A WAY TO GET FREE OF TEEBEL’S ENCHANTMENT ON THE DOOR OF THE ROOM YOU HAD US STUFFED INTO, YOU CAN BET THAT I WILL BE HITTING YOU ON THE HEAD WITH LARGE, HEAVY OBJECTS! OOOOOOHH! I AM SO ANGRY I COULD JUST… I WILL SPEND THIS TIME INVENTING NEW WAYS TO MAKE YOU REGRET SENDING ME AWAY! OH, AND I love you. BUT THAT DOESN”T CHANGE ANYTHING!”

Harry winced. It was going to take a whole lot of talking to convince Hermione that he did not deserve whatever she had in store for him. That was not something he could worry about right now. He apparated down to the cellar door, pulled the handle, waited for the sounds and then walked in through when it opened. He pulled out his wand and looked around at everything. Of all the things he imagined, this was not how he imagined it would end.

Amelia gazed around the room. She could sense that everything had suddenly turned wrong. Harry was lifting his wand up.

“Harry wait! Not the sapphire. Take that out before you start,” she pleaded.

Harry nodded silently, walked over and pulled the Eye of Narlroot out of its resting place and slipped it into his inside coat pocket. With a deep breath he began to unleash a crescendo of curses and spells designed to tear everything apart with maximum effectiveness. His repertoire would have made Hermione proud. With each spell hurled a piece of him cried out. He had failed his family. Now he was betraying the last legacy of his great, great grandfather. Here in front of his long dead daughter Harry was rending apart the thing he had created to save her.

In the end, he accepted he had no other choice. If it was just him then he would have fought the ministry, but knowing he had involved his friends changed everything. There was no way, under any circumstances he would risk getting them sent to Azkaban. He loved them too much to let that happen. So, he sacrificed everything he had done since he came to his new home.

After unleashing his torrent of destruction, Harry stopped to take it all in. There was no trace of any of the papers, charts or the journal. The model of the machine was now nothing more than a hardened puddle. Even the tables were burnt into ash. The Great Machine was now a smoldering hunk of unrecognizable metal. No one could even fathom what it might originally have been now. Not even if a hundred more generations were to come and go, would it ever be able to be rebuilt. His work was done. He left the room and hurried back to the front entry. He sat in an antique wooden chair that Teebel had placed there and waited.

--- ---

Griltskin was dancing a wobbly jig and cackling in delight. The Unspeakable were coming. They would take Harry away and the jewel would be in his stricken hands. It was almost over.

--- ---

“Teebel,” Ginny pleaded, “Pleeeeeaase let us out.”

“I am being very sorry, but Harry is saying that it is life and death. If you were to be being at the manor when they come then you will be being put in Azkaban. Please don’t be angry with Teebel.”

“What do you mean Azkaban?” Neville piped up. “Who exactly is coming to the manor?”

“I am guessing it is okay to be telling you. Ministry of Magic is knowing what Harry has been doing and they are coming for him. Harry is having to face them and he is not wanting you to be there when they are coming.”

“Oh dear,” Colette said aloud, “this is all my fault.”

She then told all of them exactly what had happened the day that the strange wizard had come to visit her.

--- ---

“Harry Potter?” the cloaked figure asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied, “that’s me.”

The figure stepped forward and handed Harry an official looking document.

“We have been ordered to search your home. If we find what we believe we will then you are to be placed under arrest. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

“Yes,” Harry answered.

The figure flicked the wand he had been aiming directly at Harry. A sound of metal clanking could be heard as a steel cage appeared around Harry.

“Do not touch the bars of this cage,” came the figure again, “you will be unpleasantly surprised at the shock you will feel.”

Harry was careful not to. Immediately another seven or so cloaked wizards appeared out of nowhere and entered the manor. Harry hoped dearly that they would not find the cellar and if they did, he sincerely hoped that they would not know what had once been there.

--- ---

“Bili?” Colette said.

“Ah, my dear, you could always tell when I am around.”

Bili was standing just outside the doorway.

“Is Harry’s house-elf still keeping you in there?” Bili asked.

“Yes,” the group replied in unison.

Teebel’s small shoulders drooped noticeably. He was not popular with the current crowd.

“I have a letter for you Teebel.”

Bili slid the letter beneath the door. Teebel scampered over and opened it. After reading it carefully he nodded his head.

“It is okay for all of you to be being free now. Please remember not to be angry at Teebel. I am only following what good Harry Potter is asking me.”

With a snap the door opened and Bilibaum walked inside. He wrapped his arms around Colette and kissed her on the forehead.

“What are we going to do?” Ginny asked with worry.

“Do?” Bili replied, “Why not a thing of course. I have it on good authority that everything is going to work out just fine.”

“On whose authority?” Hermione asked impatiently.

Teebel jumped up and down.

“Oh, I am knowing Herm-i-nee, I am knowing. On authority of Harry Potter’s very good friend. It is being right here in this letter.” Teebel said excitedly.

“And just who would that be?” Neville interrupted.

“The one who has been sending Harry letters all this time, the great Dumbledore.”

“Do you expect me to believe that the molten mess down in your cellar is not what we know it is?” the cloaked figure asked incredulously.

“It’s nothing more than what it seems,” Harry replied smugly, “an old cellar filled with junk and leftover bronze and iron from the old family forge.”

The figure, though cloaked, was visibly shaking with anger and frustration.

“We may not be able to prove anything, but mind you, we are watching you. We will catch you in the act and when that day comes, we will make you… disappear.”

With a flick of his wand the wizard made the cage around Harry vanish. Then the man spun around and apparated away, with the remaining others soon behind him. Harry raised his hand and clutched his chest, breathing heavily. That was way too close. If he had not finished destroying the machine only moments before then he would have been carted off, locked up, and the key thrown away. He sat down on the old chair behind him and closed his eyes. What a complete disaster this had all been. It was fun and educational, but a complete and utter waste.

After thinking it over, he really did not have any regrets. Coming here and connecting with his mother’s side of the family, meeting Amelia, meeting Teebel, rebuilding the machine, and most of all admitting his love to Hermione had been worth every moment of it all. He could have done without the ending, but who is to say that it was not all for the best. Maybe toying with life and death was not his calling. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and began to laugh to himself. What was going to irrevocably change the future will now not even be a footnote in history.

--- ---

Colette and Hermione were deep in conversation with one another. Bili had Ginny and Neville transfixed by his tales of traveling the world in search of the elusive cure for his love. Teebel on the other hand was doing his best to be inconspicuous, concerned that there might still be some ill feelings about the whole kidnapping incident. All in all, the mood in the room was much more relaxed.

Bili coughed loudly to get Colette and Hermione’s attention.

“Ol’ Dumbledore said he would be dropping in a bit later. He told me that he had to iron out a few wrinkles down at the ministry. I told him about the letter that Colette sent and he winked at me and said that he had temporarily delayed it. Something about redirecting it to the wrong ministry offices from what I recall. Anyway, he told me that he had been in touch with Harry this whole time.”

“Why didn’t Harry tell us that?” Hermione asked.

“Well, you see that’s the strange thing of it. Dumbledore never let Harry on to the fact that it was him. Kept signing them ~a friend~, so as to keep it a bit of a secret.”

“Why would he do that?” Neville replied.

“I’m not exactly sure the answer to that,” Bili said truthfully. “From what I could glean, it had something to do with letting Harry go through this on his own. Dumbledore felt that Harry was trying to exert himself into the adult world and needed to learn some confidence in himself. He said that he wasn’t going to be around forever, so Harry needed to feel like he could face things without his old schoolmaster looking over his shoulder.”

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. It made perfect sense. Harry was trying to be an adult now and having Dumbledore in every aspect of his life could easily cause him to not grow into the man he needs to be. It made her laugh to herself, to think that when Dumbledore was Harry’s age he probably had someone he looked up to and trusted. The thought of Albus Dumbledore needing guidance from someone else seemed odd, but was still a most certain truth.

“So what about the strange old wizard that scared Colette? What does he have to do with all this?” Ginny asked.

“Griltskin! That piece of work. I didn’t even know that bag of bones was still around. Apparently that curse of his really was a doozy. You know how he got that curse? He tried to force an old swamp hag out of her home. He was overcome with hatred against the woman. Apparently she had a pet dragon that he was crazy to make his own. The first time he tried to take the beast, she cursed him. The second time he tried, she let old Narlroot swallow him right up. If it wasn’t for one of Harry’s family, he would probably still be in its belly to this day.”

The others began to laugh hysterically at the thought.

“Well, what does he want and what can we do about him?” Neville said thoughtfully.

“He wants what he thinks is rightfully his, the Eye of Narlroot. Apparently it will cure the old codger of his curse. Rumor has it, that the thing has a great deal of power. And what we’re going to do is let him have it.”

“What?!” everyone cried out.

“Well, you see, if the curse is lifted, well let’s just say that there won’t be much left of a man who is hundreds of years old, if the magic that is keeping him alive is gone. He’s gone so batty he probably doesn’t even realize that. The sapphire does have a lot of power, but Dumbledore assured me not enough to keep him alive once he’s cured,” Bili smiled.

“Did Dumbledore know The Great Machine would not work?” Hermione queried.

“That’s the thing of it,” Bili answered, “he seemed sure that it would. He had a lot of respect for Heaglevert Leakwood and his work. He was quite surprised that Colette wasn’t healed right up by it. Guess he doesn’t know everything. Though I always kind of thought he did.”

Teebel jumped up and down and shouted, “The mean wizards from the ministry are being gone now. Harry is calling for me. We can all be going to see him now.”

“Well, I guess we should go and see him then,” Ginny announced.

--- ---

Everyone had since gone to bed. It had been a long day and even she and Bili had elected to stay the night at Harry’s home. She had been covering her bitter disappointment from the others, but now that she was alone with her thoughts she mulled them over. She was still embarrassed that she had been so easily manipulated by this Griltskin fellow. She also felt a deep sense of giving up on her own well being. She was happy enough, she guessed, but it was time she faced the truth that she would never be whole again.

Harry had agreed to find a way to get Griltskin to use the Eye. Thinking about that strange, pathetic creature drew an involuntary shudder from Colette. It was as if everything he said was more believable to her, then her own conscience. The thought that magic could somehow bend the mind of another human being did not sit well with her. How did the normal world know whether it was being controlled or not? Maybe witches and wizards had been behind the scenes of power for generations. What if the Queen of England had a witch who was a maid? What if key members of Parliament were under the spell of dark wizards? Who would know if they were doing the bidding of some evil purpose? Again her own thoughts caused her whole body to react negatively. Too many questions were left for her and not enough answers.

She stood near the sleeping form of Bilibaum. The room felt so serene with him just lying there. She decided then and there, that the next time he decided to travel that she would go with him. She was tired of being a prisoner of her own body. Why should she feel that way, just because she was sick? If these were her last days, then she wanted to spend them going to all the places that Bili had always told her about. The thought of traveling the world made her pulse race. So what if she could not see it. She could hear it, touch it, feel it and take all of these places in through her own ways. Then she would have her dearest use his marvelous gift for story telling to describe it with his eyes.

Her fear of magic would have to be put away for another day. She had other things to think about now. She reached down to grab her Braille pocket watch. Bili had set it down on the nightstand. Her fingers came to rest on the smooth wood surface and began to search. She felt her knuckles gently bump against a rounded piece of some sort. She touched it with her fingers and gently ran them the length of it. It was like a director’s baton. It was Bili’s wand she thought. Though she had never seen it and he had never spoken of it, she knew that he had one from his lengthy talk with her about how magic worked. Most of what he said flew right over her head, but she knew in time that she would understand it a little better.

She lifted the wand and it felt strangely balanced; as if it were meant to be held in the hand. She grinned as she waved it around. What was it like to be a witch? She stepped carefully away from the bed and began to swish the wand around in earnest. With each flick of the wrist she imagined letting loose some ponderous spell. She began to twirl around in place as she pretended to be conducting an invisible orchestra. She had a hard time not laughing at loud, for fear of waking up the others. Then she remembered a word that Hermione had used earlier. With a giddiness and a quick wave she called out quietly.

“Lumos.”

She stopped spinning. There was a blinding light coming from somewhere. She could not see, but she could definitely tell the difference between light and dark. The room had suddenly gone from night to day. Her voice faltered as she whispered.

“Is someone there?”

There was no answer. What if it was him? What if Griltskin had come for her? She began to scream for help.

Bili shot straight out of bed in a confused stupor of sleep. There were pounding feet coming from down the hallway. Bili called out to her just as the door burst open. It sounded as if everyone had come in.

“What’s wrong?” Bili exclaimed.

“There’s someone else in the room with us,” she cried fearfully. “I was just playing a bit, because I couldn’t sleep and then the room lit up all of the sudden.”

Ginny, Neville, Harry, Hermione and Bili all stopped dead in their tracks. There in Colette’s hand was a wand and the wand was lit up as bright as it ever had.

“Dearest,” Bili started, “how did the wand light up? What did you just do?”

“I… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been playing with it,” Colette stammered.

Harry reached over and took the wand from her. With a flick he doused the light. He then handed it back to her.

“Whatever you were just doing,” he said, “do it again.”

Colette felt fearful.

“It’s alright dearest,” Bili told her reassuringly, “go ahead.”

Colette hesitated at first, but then began to wave the wand around, spun around and said, “Lumos.”

The wand responded immediately. It grew bright enough to show the shock and amazement on every face there in that room.

“What’s happening?” Colette asked with fear coloring her voice.

No one answered. After a moment of silence Harry finally spoke up.

“Now I understand… this is why Heaglevert tore out the pages. When he realized that the machine could not heal his daughter, he discovered another use for it. That knowledge died with him. Now, we have brought it to light once more. The machine with the Eye of Narlroot…”

“Harry, it’s just not possible,” Hermione intoned. “In all the history books, in all the tomes of knowledge, there has never been a time where a muggle has been given the gift of magic.”

“…and yet, here it is right in front of us,” Ginny replied thoughtfully.

“What does it mean?” Neville asked.

“It means nothing,” Bili answered, “the machine is destroyed. This moment will never again be repeated. This is what the Ministry was truly afraid of. This is why they were so hell bent on silencing the Leakwood family.”

“She’s a witch now, “Hermione said breathlessly, “the healers at St. Mungos will have to help her now.”

The reality of her words struck everyone like a resonating chord. There was not a dry eye in the room.

--- ---

“Harry you did better than I ever could have hoped,” Dumbledore told him thoughtfully.

“To be honest, I’m not sure what I would have done if I had known that the Leakwood family secret could bestow such a thing on a person. Heaglevert was very close to my dear friend Nicolas Flamel. Nicolas was ever the fan of his work and he later told me how much he admired your great, great grandfather and his ideas. It seems it has all come full circle now.”

“Except for one thing,” Harry mentioned, “Griltskin is still out there. I tried as hard as I could and could never find him.”

“His story is far from over,” Dumbledore nodded, “perhaps you will encounter him another day. My advice is to always be ready. Never let your guard down.”

“I could never tell this to anyone else, but it felt sort of strange spending so much of my life worrying about Voldemort, that I felt a bit off not having a dark villain hiding in the wings. Knowing that an evil wizard is out there somewhere, feels almost… normal,” Harry confided.

“That is a good thing,” Albus replied, “In my experience there is always an evil witch or wizard lurking in the world. One must never become complacent.”

Harry nodded his head.

“So, what great adventure are you going on to now?” the headmaster asked with a smile.

Harry looked on as his old school mates and Bili were gathered around an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Each of them in turn hugging and laughing and crying with her. Colette had been healed after years and years of suffering. To see her standing there made Harry feel deeply happy.

“Well, we got an owl the other day. Apparently there is a wedding happening at some Sherpa temple in the Himalayas. A shape-shifting monk apparently agreed to marry Ron and Luna. We were all going to attend that and then I figured a bit of a rest is in order. Hermione and I have decided that we are going to go back to Leakwood Manor and spend some time together with Amelia. Then we might tag along with Bili and Colette. They are planning an around the world trip. It might be fun to see everything there is to see.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore responded with a warm grin.

“Albus?”

“Yes Harry?”

“I still know how… I have every single detail memorized. I could… rebuild it. I still have the Eye… what… what should I do?”

“Ah, I knew this question might come,” Dumbledore said softly. “I cannot tell you what to do. Your secret would always be safe with me. However, a word of caution. If you were to do this all over again, how would you choose who was ‘worthy’ of magic and who was not? Would you give the gift to every muggle? Or perhaps just some; ones you think deserve it? How would you decide who does deserve it and who does not?”

“I thought about the same kinds of things and I don’t think I would be able to do that. How would I choose? What right would I have to make that decision?” Harry offered back. “For now, I guess it is enough to know that we’ve helped Colette. Perhaps this machine is like the Philosopher’s Stone. It carries too many moral questions to be allowed in the world.”

“Harry, you are growing wiser each and every year. I have every confidence in you. I hope that someday, when I am gone, that you will carry the torch on. Knowing you are in this world makes it easier for me to face my own mortality.”

Harry did not know exactly what to say to that. So, he just stood there next to him. His whole life stretched out in front of him, but in the end he always knew that he would come back to where his fondest memories lie. He closed his eyes and could almost imagine himself standing in the great hall of Hogwarts and welcoming the students to another school year. For now though, he would take the time he had been given and live life to its fullest.

--- ---

“Deprive me of my jewel will you?!” Griltskin hissed.

Griltskin was peering into a small pool of murky water. Harry’s face looking quite pleased with himself.

“The Himalayas? A wedding? A wedding to die for I would say. I will be there waiting for you. I am still here Harry Potter. Do not rest too easy, your enemy still lies hidden in the darkness.”