Keeping A Promise

Updated: July 2005

By Maple Mountain

Rated PG-13 for now due to some violence and descriptions of torture, but with H/Hr, who knows what else may happen? I promise I won’t take it to an ‘R’ though.

Title: Keeping a Promise

Disclaimer: If I was JKR and these characters were mine, do you really think I’d be worried about my mortgage payment being due? Just this plot is “mine…all mine!” All excerpts from JKR’s Harry Potter book series in any chapter in this story are from the US Scholastic Editions, and any ideas that I can attribute to others in the greater Harry Potter community will be appropriately referenced.

Summary: Slightly AU with a time-travel theme. And, since I’m not JKR, all characters are, by definition, at least slightly OOC. Set immediately after the last page of OotP. Based on the following thought- What would happen if Vernon already has plans for Harry when they returned to Privet Drive?

Pairings: Harry/Hermione (of course…) with a mention of R/Lu and N/G near the end.

Spoilers: Books 1-5

Author's Comments: My first fanfic, ever, of any kind. (Actually, it is the first piece of fiction that I have written since probably sometime in Junior High, which is more years ago than I care to remember.) I came across Portkey one day when I was taking a break from looking for a job, and one thing led to another. Eventually, this plot bunny came hopping into my head, and I had to either write it down or shoot it. Please R&R, although I would appreciate you reading both Chapter 1 and 2 at least before you flame me! Also, I know that this story starts out somewhat slow…please read a while before you give up on it – I’ve been told it gets better as it goes along! This final version has been updated to include new information from JKR’s website (www.jkrowling.com) as of 10 December 2004 and has undergone some minor edits from the original posting after I had a co-worker who is a writer herself make some suggestions to help tighten things up – some of which I included and some of which I didn’t.

Chapter 1 – Return to Privet Drive

(A/N) This chapter is mostly Harry’s random “stream of consciousness” thoughts, indicated like this <Character thoughts>, so it is somewhat disjointed (as I think Harry’s thoughts would be at this time).

“Really soon, Harry,” said Hermione earnestly. “We promise.”

As Harry pushed his luggage trolley with Hedwig’s cage perched on top the short distance from Platform 9 3/4 to the car park, he replayed in his mind the last pleasant voice he would be hearing for a while. How was he going to face going back to Privet Drive after all that had happened in the past few weeks? He had already started counting the days before he could escape the prison he was condemned to endure for – how long this time? <I hope Hermione can keep her promise to see me soon. I just wish that I could have told her about everything I learned in Dumbledore’s office that night… after I just about killed –>”

“I do not want to be stuck with the Dursleys right now,” he muttered as his entire body tensed once again at the memories of the Department Of Mysteries. He remembered how hard it was last summer being kept in the dark at number four, Privet Drive after Cedric died. How much worse is it going to be this year with what has just happened? <Sirius died because of my stupidity. Everyone else, including me, came pretty close to snuffing it too! Why didn’t I listen to Hermione?>

Hermione…Every time he had thought of her since that terrible night, he couldn’t get the memory of a critical minute in the DOM out of his mind. One sequence of events played over and over…Hermione being hit by a purple flame from Dolohov’s wand and falling, motionless, to the floor. At that very moment, he thought his life was over. Fortunately, Neville had the presence of mind to check for a pulse. <One of these days I’m going to have to owl Neville and let him know how much what he did for me meant to our survival that night. And, I better write Hermione, too, and tell her– >

“BOY!” Uncle Vernon bellowed, interrupting his train of thought. “WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING?”

Harry looked around, puzzled. The Dursleys were standing next to a different car than they had when he last saw them. Harry absentmindedly had walked to a car that looked like the one he remembered, the one that Vernon had driven when the Dursleys left for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition that Tonks had “invented” the previous August. <That was the last time I saw them> he mused. <So much has happened since then…>

“GET OVER HERE!” Vernon yelled again.

The Dursleys were standing next to a very large, expensive car. He didn’t recognize the make or model (it sure wasn’t listed in Which Broomstick, which had been more on Harry’s mind than the latest cars for the past few years) but he could tell from the chrome and the finish that this car was quite a step up for the Dursleys in the automobile pecking order that was Privet Drive. <Hmm… Vernon must have gotten a promotion or bonus at Grunnings. Wonder who he had to cheat to get it?>

Looking in the car, he saw that Petunia was already seated in front and Dudley was filling up nearly half the wide back seat, both of them staring at him as usual. UncleVernon had opened the boot, and was walking with a noticeable limp toward the front. “If you don’t have your trunk and your bloody parrot put away by the time I get the car started, I’m leaving without you, boy!” he said as he reached for the door handle. “AND YOU BETTER NOT SCRATCH THE PAINT WHEN YOU DO IT!”

Fortunately, Harry was able to wrestle the trunk into the boot and get Hedwig’s cage tied down in the back seat before Vernon forced his bulky body into the driver’s seat and buckled his seatbelt around his belly. Vernon had started to look more and more like Dudley when it came to the girth department since he last saw him. <Must have been eating well in my absence. Oh well, I’m sure I’ll be back on the ‘rabbit food’ diet this year, if I’m even that lucky. Wonder if I can complain about the food situation to the Order when they visit me in a few days?>

As Vernon revved up the engine and drove off with a roar and a squeal of tyres, Harry quickly buckled his seatbelt and checked the strap holding Hedwig’s cage. With Vernon driving in as foul of a mood as he was, Harry wasn’t taking any chances. <Wouldn’t that be ironic! The Boy-Who-Lived, killed in a Muggle car accident! Why worry about Voldemort when I have Uncle Vernon trying to kill me?> He then noticed that the car was very new, since the smell of the leather upholstery was fresh in the air. He got the distinct impression that they had probably driven to King’s Cross Station directly from the sales lot.

Dudley was sitting as far away from him and Hedwig as he could, which wasn’t very easy because of his size. As he looked into Dudley’s face, he saw an intense look of fear and hatred there. Harry stared at him for a minute, wondering what would cause Dudley to show such obvious loathing. But then, Harry saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes. It was a look that reminded him of Draco Malfoy at his most self-assured - when Draco knew something that Harry didn’t. <Wish I was a Legilimens right now! Wonder what’s going on in that piggy little mind? He’s probably got some torture lined up for me as soon as we get to the house.> If Harry had noticed Vernon in the mirror right then, he would have been surprised that Mr. Dursley had exactly the same look on his face.

As they traveled the long road to Surrey, Harry realized that the prison sentence he was about to face was more than he could bear. He knew he had to return to re-establish the protections associated with this ancient magic that both Dumbledore and Voldemort had described. But, the more he thought about it, the more Order Headquarters was now home to him in his mind. That was where Sirius had lived. That was where he had felt as much happiness as he had anywhere lately. He also realized that neither Hogwarts nor The Burrow felt like home to him either. Thoughts of Hogwarts from this past year were so tied up with his unpleasant memories of ‘…that evil hag’ as Hermione referred to her, not to mention his confusion about what he was feeling towards Albus Dumbledore.

Thinking of the Burrow reminded him once again of his mixed feelings about the Weasley family. They ranged from thinking about how Percy was continuing to be a complete, total, prat; to ‘Gred and Forge’ and their brilliant escape from HER clutches (he still couldn’t bear to think of her name without cursing); to his frustration with Molly and her treatment of Sirius, not to mention how she treated him as a child. The rage that he felt at being left out of the loop because “…he’s not an adult either!” started rising again. <If only the Order had told me more, Sirius might still be alive. And ALBUS was KEEPING THINGS FROM ME BECAUSE HE SAYS HE LOVED ME TOO MUCH… Just great! I’ve been back in the Muggle world for less than half an hour and I’m still ‘The Boy Who Blows Up’! I have GOT to get a grip! I wish that Hermione were here, she’d calm me down.>

For once, much more pleasant memories of Hermione came to Harry, as if something important was breaking through to his conscious mind. Instead of her falling in the Department of Mysteries there was Hermione, kissing him on the cheek at King’s Cross Station last year after Cedric died; Hermione nearly tackling him in a hug in the bedroom at Sirius’s and not letting go, as if she knew how much he needed a hug right then; Hermione trying so hard to consider his feelings when she proposed that he should teach DADA instead of the ….creature, then her face lighting up when she started describing why it was so important to learn from him; then, that same evening, as he started losing control again the simple but brave act of her saying Voldemort’s name; Hermione, snow in her hair, cheeks pink with cold, knocking on the bedroom door at Grimmauld Place. Each of these times, she seemed to do just what was needed to calm him down, cheer him up, or help him out of a funk. At the same time, he also remembered how often he found himself losing his temper, loudly, with both Hermione and Ron this past year when they were only trying to help. Not for the first time, he was reminded of what a prat he had been.

Ron…Now, there was a real problem. What exactly were his feelings towards his best friend…well, his best MALE friend, anyway? <Now, wait a minute. When exactly did I start thinking of Hermione as my …my best friend?>

After reflecting for a moment, he remembered that it started during fourth year, when Ron was actively avoiding him after his name came out of the Goblet. Hermione was the only one who believed him. <She not only believed me, she HELPED me…while Ron was off on his major jealousy and ‘I hate being poor!’ kicks. Ron was no better than Malfoy at that time, maybe even worse, because I never EXPECTED Malfoy to be supportive, but I sure did miss Ron. Sure, we patched things up, but my trust in him just isn’t there as strongly as it had been. He’s definitely NOT a Hufflepuff!> Harry chuckled. <Loyalty and hard work isn’t his forte. Besides, I don’t think we really did ‘patch things up’ after that– I guess we just decided to ignore what happened and move on. And, all through last year, Ron seemed to be more and more distant. Partly because he was prefect, and partly because of Ron’s Quidditch practices without me after that…that…hag banned me… But, wait a minute – Hermione was prefect, too, and she spent a lot of time with me last year anyway. Hmm, maybe Ron was spending more time doing his prefect duties than she was – that’s why he wasn’t there as much. Fat chance of that!> he laughed to himself.

<Then, just a few weeks ago, when Ron and Ginny won the Quidditch Cup without me, did Ron really have to rub it in so much? Acting like a superstar, sitting under that tree, sweeping his hair back just like my dad did and making sure those Hufflepuffs noticed, and then, saying, ‘Yeah, we won’, so smugly. Ron might as well have added ‘…without your help’. Honestly, as much as I love Quidditch, I was almost glad I was with Hermione in the forest instead of having to watch that last match…WHAT AM I SAYING? I’D RATHER BE RUNNING AWAY FROM AN ANGRY GIANT AND EVEN ANGRIER CENTAURS THAN WATCHING QUIDDITCH?> Immediately, he knew the answer to that question. <Yes, as long as I was with Hermione.>

<What…?”“Uh…Oh…!” “Potter, you’ve got it bad…” “No, it can’t be!” “I don’t… love her, do I?”>And then, he heard her calm, rational, familiar voice in his head. <And, why not, Harry? Why couldn’t you be starting to feel that way about me? Let’s start with the basics. What did you really mean when you said you didn’t think I was ugly?>

Harry didn’t know exactly how to answer that. <Thanks a lot, Hermione’s voice, for bringing that up right now.> He had found himself more and more frequently engaging in a pretend conversation with her voice in his head, and this time was no different. <Just what DID I mean by that?>, he asked himself. <I mean, she isn’t a Fleur Delacour, or even a Cho Chang, for that matter, when it comes to looks. But, what did Mr. Weasley say about the Veelas when they were attacking the leprechauns at the Quidditch World Cup?” ‘And that, boys, is why you should never go for looks alone!’ If only I had thought about that before I asked Cho out – it sure would have saved me a lot of problems. Now that I think about it, I have NEVER thought of Hermione as ugly, from when I first met her on the train. Besides, I KNOW Hermione can be very good looking when she makes an effort…I noticed that at the Yule Ball, didn’t I?” When I saw her in that blue dress, she was so…>

“BOY – WAKE UP, WE’RE HERE! WHAT ARE YOU DREAMING ABOUT?” Vernon roared, turning slowly purple as he built up steam with his diatribe. “Better not be that…that…girl I see you with at the station each year! I saw the look on your face just now – you were thinking of her, weren’t you? Well, don’t get thinking along those lines. Just what we need, you getting with one of those witches at your school and making even more of your kind – just like Petunia’s sister and that layabout father of yours. Disgusting! Get your mind out of the gutter! I don’t want you having funny dreams about ANY of your unnatural friends or that school of yours while you are with us this summer, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

As Harry sat there silently, bracing himself against Vernon’s verbal attack, his uncle continued with more and more volume. “After what happened to my son because of you last August, I’m not putting up with any of it, do you hear me? Dementoids, Lord Voldy-thingy, Ministry of Magic, bloody… effing… owls delivering letter bombs to my wife; I don’t want any more of it! We’re going to have some changes around here soon, mark my words!” As he opened the door and struggled to extricate himself from the seat, he finished his tirade. “Now, go get your unnatural bird and your precious trunk out of my car right away and get in the house – there’s something you need to see.”

Harry, somewhat embarrassed that Vernon was exactly right about who he was thinking about, looked around. He saw that he was alone in the car with Hedwig. Dudley and Petunia had gone into the house and he hadn’t even noticed. Actually, he hadn’t even noticed that they had arrived at the Dursley’s house on Privet Drive. As he opened his door, though, he saw that the neighbors were peeking out between their curtains to see why Vernon was yelling so loudly. <Uh, oh…>, Harry thought as he realized just what his uncle had been screaming at the top of his lungs, <…he said a few things there he shouldn’t have. Hmm, wonder if Vernon will get an owl from Mafalda Hopkirk citing him for violating the International Statute of Secrecy? Oh, well, I guess the neighbors are probably used to Vernon’s tirades by now. Maybe they’ll just ignore the details as usual>.

Harry reached in, unstrapped Hedwig’s cage, set it on the ground, then went around and unloaded the trunk from the boot of the car. Hedwig hooted at him as Harry walked towards the house from the driveway. He went back and opened her cage so she could stretch her wings for a while after such a long trip cooped up in a cage. So, Harry didn’t notice that there was someone watching from the Dursley’s window. As he trundled his trunk in the front door, he heard a strangely familiar voice say “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” and he fell to the floor, completely stiff.

(A/N – I know, I know, but PLEASE READ CHAPTER 2 before you complain about what you think is impossible…)

Chapter 2 – A Familiar Place

(A/N) This chapter is a little longer, but I’ve got to explain why what just happened could happen, so this chapter should help do that. Yes, I know…one of the characters in this chapter likes to talk a lot. But, there’s a reason for it. Upcoming chapters should fill in a few missing pieces also. Some of the details included in this chapter were obtained from an essay at www.hp-lexicon.org by ‘Kendall Smiley’, titled The Battle of the Department of Mysteries - An Analysis of the Chase and Battle, June 1996)

Harry was, literally and figuratively, stunned…and more than a little scared. <Wait a minute! Who just did that to me? Aren’t I supposed to be protected here? I know that voice! I wish I could just move and see who it is.> But Harry could only manage to blink and breathe.

That familiar, cold voice spoke once again. “Still with us, widdle baby Potty? Good! I wouldn’t want you to miss any of this by being unconscious or in too much pain to follow along.” The gaunt face and hooded eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange moved in front of him, and he saw another vaguely familiar, rather large wizard standing behind her. “That’s why I didn’t use a Stunner or the Cruciatus Curse on you, even though I dare say I would love to give you lessons on how to cast THAT one better. Barty Jr. must be slipping – he used to be pretty good with Cruciatus, if I remember right. Or, maybe you just weren’t paying attention when he was teaching you the Unforgivable Curses during your fourth year? Were you too busy thinking about snogging that mudblood wench of yours, eh, Potter? Is that why you couldn’t do more than tickle me a little at the Department?” she said in a taunting voice.

Harry’s eyes must have betrayed the confusion he was feeling. As Bellatrix took a quick glance at what looked like a Muggle pocket watch that she pulled from her black robes, she said, “Tell you what, Potter. I bet you’re just brimming with questions right now, aren’t you? We have some time before we can finish up here. If you promise to behave, I’ll allow you to talk. But, if I get annoyed with your questions, or you try anything funny, I promise I WILL Crucio you, is that a deal? Blink twice if you understand.”

Harry blinked twice, and Bellatrix tapped the point of his chin with her wand. He was still unable to move his body, but at least he could speak. “Wha...how did...where…” he sputtered.

“If I had known that was all you could come up with, I would have left you mute,” Bellatrix laughed harshly. But, I get the general idea. You’re probably wondering what is going on, how did I get here, and where is my master? That about right, Potter?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty smart for an evil minion,” he snarled. He had just realized the implications of Bellatrix’s comment about Hermione, and he could feel a surge of anger rising in his heart. But, before he could say anything else, Bellatrix cut in again.

“Watch the attitude, Potter. The only reason you are still breathing at all is because both the Dark Lord and I are feeling a bit generous today, so you’d better hold your tongue if you know what’s good for you. In fact, maybe I’d better nip this in the bud before I answer your questions. CRUCIO!”

Although he had felt this curse before, the sheer amount of pain was still quite a shock. He felt excruciating pain in every part of his body. But, since he was still bound by her earlier curse, he was unable to curl up in a ball as he would have liked.

“Enjoy that, Potter? I was pretty easy on you, you know. Actually, when you get hit with a Cruciatus Curse at a much lower power, it is actually exhilarating. As you may have suspected, you can learn to get used to it and fight it, just like Imperio. I, for example, have got to the point where I enjoy it, unless a very powerful wizard like my master uses it on me. I’ll confess; when you hit me with it at the Department, it was somewhat more than a love tap, but it still wasn’t anywhere near as strong as the one HE used on me after I had failed him that night when you got away from us again. Oh, yeah, that reminds me, wee little Potty. Does anyone else know you used the Cruciatus Curse on me? I seem to remember something about the weaklings at the Ministry calling that an unforgivable curse, you know! Are you ready to go to Azkaban? I’m sure the dementors - at least the ones that are still there - would be more than interested in getting you to come visit for a while, eh, Potter?”

Harry didn’t know what to say. Actually, he had thought about that very thing in the days after the attack. <What was it that Professor Moody, I mean Barty Crouch Jr., said during 4th year? ‘The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban.’> But, as he was thinking about this, he started realizing that he was able to feel his fingers twitching slightly.

Before he could investigate further, however, Bellatrix noticed it too. “Goyle, wrap him up!” she yelled to the wizard behind her. The man raised his wand and shot ropes out of the end, completely immobilizing him again. “Don’t want to use the body-bind on you again – I need you a little bit more mobile soon and I don’t want to have to drag your frozen body around. Oh, and Potter, don’t worry about the Cruciatus Curse – I won’t tell anyone, and where you’re going, you won’t have to worry about Azkaban for quite a while,” she said with an unmistakable cackle.

<So, she really IS an evil minion,> Harry thought, <she’s even got the evil cackle down. Not the time to be joking, even to myself, I guess. Maybe, though, I can get her mad…>

“Hey, Bellatrix, I guess your master wasn’t too happy with you the last time I saw you. So, old Tommy Riddle Crucio’d you, did he? Bet that was fun,” Harry said, with a little grin.

“HOW DARE YOU PROFANE THE DARK LORD BY USING THAT MUGGLE NAME TO REFER TO HIM!” Bellatrix screamed at him. “Oh, Potter, if I didn’t have my orders, Goyle and I would be carrying your body out to dump it in the gutter right now. I’d Crucio you again, but that would interfere with…”

Goyle, who had been standing at her side, said dully, “Uhhh…Milady Lestrange, remember what we were told…”

Bellatrix snapped back, “Yes, you stupid oaf, I remember quite well my…instructions. Don’t interrupt me again, Goyle. Honestly, if I had a choice I would have never brought you along today.”

Harry, standing there quietly bound up with magical ropes, considered this last exchange. <Hmmm… first, Gregory Goyle’s dad (who, he now remembered, wasn’t at the Department with the rest of the Death Eaters that night,) isn’t necessarily considered as an asset to Voldemort’s army, at least in Bellatrix’s eyes. But, this means, if he is coming with her on an important mission (Harry liked to think that anything to do with him would be an important mission to Voldemort), the Death Eater’s ranks must be rather depleted. Yeah, losing 10 or so Death Eaters at once has to hurt the morale of the troops!> he thought smugly.

Also, he realized, whatever they had in store for him, repeated Cruciatus Curses would interfere with it. Possibly Petrificus Totalus would, too; since he really doubted that Goyle would have any problem carrying him, stiff or not. If only he could remember the spell interactions and combined spell side effects that he had studied! <To be honest, spell interactions with Unforgivable Curses were probably a N.E.W.T. level course of study, but Hermione would be sure to know, or at least know where to look in the library,> he thought with a laugh.

Again, Bellatrix’s harsh voice interrupted him. “Never mind about that, Goyle. Potter, I still want to answer your questions. Not that it will matter for much longer, but I want you to know just exactly how powerful and intelligent the Dark Lord is, so you can fully realize how futile your Muggle-loving Dumbledore’s efforts are with his pathetic Order. Yes, Potter, we know all about the Order of the Phoenix. Peter, while somewhat useless to us except as a “good right hand man”, (Harry groaned at her little joke), is a great source of information even now. You know, he is still an Animagus, even with his shiny new “accessory”. He’s been listening in on certain conversations and reporting all the details to the Dark Lord. While we don’t know where you are operating out of yet, we do know a lot of what you are up to. And, we do have other friends in the Ministry, too…” she grinned, “but, you don’t need to know about that…”

Harry immediately thought of Professor Snape, but Dumbledore assured him that he trusted Severus. <But, how much CAN I trust either of them?>, he asked himself, <after all the truths that Dumbledore has been keeping from me, and what I have seen Snape do, I don’t know who to believe…except for one person. Hermione.> A powerful realization swelled up in his chest at that moment. Hermione was the only one he could trust. Not Dumbledore, not Ron, only Hermione. <Hermione…I need her badly…and I need her right now! I wish that I knew how to let her know what is happening to me!> He concentrated all of his mental energy into one, desperate, powerful thought. <HERMIONE, I NEED YOU!> He doubted that it would do any good, but he didn’t have too many options at the moment.

He realized that Bellatrix, who had apparently continued babbling some rot about Voldemort’s superiority over Dumbledore, was finally getting to the point.

“- do you honestly think that the Dark Lord would not come up with another plan to take care of you, since he was unable to procure the Prophecy thanks to you and your clumsy friend Longbottom? Actually, it was something that happened that night in the Department of Mysteries that gave him the idea,” she said, this time with an unmistakable smirk. “But, first things first. I’m sure you’re most curious about how we can even BE here, Potter. I’m sure Albus has told you by now about the ‘ancient magic’ that was used to protect you here?” she asked.

Harry nodded. He remembered too well that entire conversation, including information that he was sure Riddle didn’t have and would like to know - about a certain glass sphere. This made him feel a slight amount of hope for the first time since he had arrived at Privet Drive. He and Dumbledore still knew something that Tom didn’t!

“Well, Potter… “, Lestrange continued, “…as with anything of this nature, you have to be pretty specific when using this ‘ancient magic’ you heard about. It’s what the Muggles call a lip hole, or something. Just how much did Albus tell you?

For some reason, Harry thought of Mr. Weasley when he heard her say ‘lip hole’ instead of ‘loophole’, but then he focused on what she just asked. “If I remember right, he said ‘While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort’.”

A gleam of triumph came into Bellatrix’s deep-set eyes. “Yes, EXACTLY, Potter. I dare say you’ve studied enough spell theory in the past five years to see the problems with what you just said. Come on, Potter, even you can see where I am headed with this. Little Master Malfoy has informed us that you aren’t COMPLETELY dense in your class work at Hogwarts, and, with his obvious biases against you, we take that to mean that you are not incompetent as a wizard. Think for a minute, and you tell me what went wrong.”

Harry, ignoring her thinly veiled insults, reviewed what he had just remembered Dumbledore telling him. “Well,” he began, “first, I have to think of wherever Petunia lives as my home…”

“And…” she prompted, “keep going.”

“And…”he continued, thinking hard, “the protection…only works against Voldemort!”

“Very good, Potter. Yes, anyone but the Dark Lord could come here and touch or harm you, as long as we knew where ‘here’ was. If I were a Hogwarts professor, I’d have to give, say, fifty points to Gryffindor! But, when I get to be one soon, there won’t BE any Gryffindor House there, now, will there!” Bellatrix’s glee was evident. “So, what do you think went wrong? I’ll bet those fifty points that you won’t figure out the whole story.”

Harry had already deduced at least part of the problem. He had thought about this in the car earlier that afternoon. “I…I… no longer think of Privet Drive as home”, he muttered.

“Very good, Potter”, Bellatrix said, still with a smirk on her face. “My master was pretty sure that you would start to feel that way as you were exposed to Hogwarts and other wizard families, and as he became more aware of your thoughts, it became more obvious that the protections would decay over time. But, it gets even better than that. We always try to create a sure bet, instead of waiting for you to ‘dissolve family ties’ on your own time. Look around the room. Do you see anything different?”

Harry, who, honestly, had been sort of distracted and busy with other things since he entered the house, took a moment and looked around. He was shocked to see that where last year there were lots of pictures of Dudley and the rest of the Dursleys, there were now nail holes and blotches where the picture frames had protected the paint from the sun. Also, none of Dudley’s television sets were visible. There was still some furniture here and there, but Petunia’s favorite rocking chair was missing. The telephone that was usually on the wall was obviously disconnected, as it was now broken in pieces on the floor. And, most tellingly, he realized he hadn’t seen any sign of the three since he entered the house. He could only come up with one conclusion. “They’ve…moved?” he asked. “When…where…how?

“Well, you see, your uncle, Vernon, is it?’ Bellatrix grinned. “He just got a very LARGE contract at work from a previously unknown purchaser of drills. Very…’hush-hush’ as the Muggles say. Earned himself a promotion, a bonus, and a lot more Galleons each month. Hmmm…wait, Muggles don’t use Galleons, do they? Well, no matter what Muggles do or don’t do. He also seems to have gotten a new, what do they call them, ‘automobile?’ out of the deal. An item which, I assume, is pretty important to Muggles for some reason. Now, I don’t know what my dear sister Narcissa is going to do with all of those drills. In fact, I’m not quite sure what they are, being Muggle items and all, but that is up to her. She’ll probably use them to torture her house elves in some depraved way, or something fun like that.”

“Malfoy”, Harry hissed. “Lucius put up the money!”

“Close, but not quite,” said Bellatrix, “if you remember, Lucius is, shall we say, a bit indisposed at the moment. You were there, you know. Honestly, young wizards these days! Can’t keep track of anything. Ten points from Gryffindor,” she said with a straight face. “No, Narcissa is quite capable of making financial transactions on behalf of the Malfoy family. Why do you think she married the pretty boy?” The merger of the house of Black and the house of Malfoy was an important happening in the Wizarding World. Lucius needed an adult male heir to continue his line, while my sister needed financial security for life. Narcissa ‘sealed the deal’, as it were, by allowing Draco to be born, but she was in it for the money all along. Why do you think she kept Draco from going to Durmstrang? She only gets full control of her share of the estate if he survives until his 18^th birthday, and she couldn’t keep as close an eye on him as she wanted if he were out of the country.”

“Ah, but enough Black family history – besides, you won’t care about any of this in a while.” she sighed. “Back to the problems with your ‘protection’. You didn’t notice the Dursleys leave in that new vehicle just as you were bringing in your trunk. It was timed pretty closely, but they left for their new home about one second before I froze you. Of course, they couldn’t completely move out until you got here - that would have attracted too much attention. They were able to move mostly small personal items before today. Since the house they are moving to happened to be fully furnished, and quite lavishly, I must say, they didn’t complain too much when they heard the details of the offer. Besides, they were glad to get rid of you when we proposed it. Vernon, especially, was rather enthusiastic; but Petunia was a different story. She fought for quite a while, but we got through to her in the end. I think the holiday bungalow in Majorca and the promise to fix Dudley’s weight problem magically won her over. Apparently he also has a tendency to sprout a pig’s ears and nose occasionally, and she’d like it to stop. Guess she loves her status and her whale of a son more than you.”

“But, wait a minute,” Harry said. “How did you even find out I was staying here in the first place? I got the impression that at least some of the protections around me here included your lot not knowing exactly where I was, right?” Harry was actually getting interested in the story, now; almost forgetting that he was in the presence of someone who could kill him at any moment. And, he wasn’t all that surprised that Vernon had found a way to betray him while at the same time moving up in the ranks of the Muggle world. He was a little more surprised at Petunia, but she did always want to go to Majorca like her friends.

“Funny thing, that…”Bellatrix frowned slightly. “You’re right, Potter. Up until last August, we had no idea exactly where you were. Of course, I was still in Azkaban at the time, but the Death Eaters have been trying to find you ever since you survived the Dark Lord’s curse that terrible Halloween. We knew the general area, but we could never identify which house you were staying at. Through our sources at the Ministry, we knew that this house, wherever it was, had been connected to the Floo Network for a very short period of time before the last Quidditch World Cup, and we thought that we had you then. However, that was before the Dark Lord was restored so we couldn’t move at that time. By the time he was powerful enough to act, all records of the connection had been destroyed. Probably the blood traitor, Arthur Weasley, took care of that for you.”

Harry’s stomach did a flip-flop. <So, using the Floo network to allow me to go to the World Cup wasn’t such a good idea…but then, Dudley never would have found out about ton-tongue toffees, though. You know, maybe it was worth it after all!> he grinned.

“But, it all changed the evening of August 6^th last year,” she continued, not noticing the smile that had come to Harry’s face when he remembered Dudley’s predicament. “One of our sources saw the Dursleys driving home late that night from somewhere. Their faces were already known to us, since they picked you up at Platform 9 3/4 each year. Since there are standing orders for the Death Eaters and our associates to track them whenever they are spotted, our source kept close behind them. Each time previously, whoever was following them would lose sight of them or be distracted at a critical moment. That night, though, it didn’t happen. The informant was able to watch them pull into the driveway here at number four, Privet Drive and walk right in the front door. Vernon was in a foul mood. Something about a joke of some kind being played on him, and a …lawn contest, whatever that means, and that he would get to the bottom of it, according to the report I read later. Anyway, Potter, the result was that we knew EXACTLY where you had been living all this time. We kept a close watch on the home all night. The next morning when the Dursleys had all left, our people went in. No, not my master. The remnants of the protection charms kept him from coming anywhere near this place, even then. But, Lucius and Avery entered and searched the house from top to bottom. They found the room you had been staying in, but it was obvious you were no longer there. I assume you had already left?” she asked, as innocently as possible while looking deeply into his eyes.

At that very moment, Harry knew what Bellatrix was fishing for, and that she had at least some Legilimens training. And, at the same time, he realized that he no longer knew where Order Headquarters was. Frantically, he searched his mind, but it was as if a focused memory charm had been cast on him. He remembered all the times he had been there, but nothing about the location. Most importantly, he realized that the Fidelius Charm cast by Albus Dumbledore to protect that information had worked perfectly. <I guess I’ll have to ask someone where it is again if I ever get out of this mess.>

“Yes, I had left before then,” was all Harry would say.

Bellatrix looked slightly disappointed, and checked her pocket watch once again. “Well, no matter. We now knew your address, but we didn’t do anything with this information since we were focusing our efforts on the prophecy. You were safely packed away, getting ready to go to Hogwarts, so we did nothing, yet. You probably figured out some of our attempts to obtain the sphere, didn’t you?”

“Well, you tried to get Sturgis to break in, but he got caught and sent to Azkaban, and then Bode actually must have succeeded in touching it, at least”, he said.

She nodded. “Then, the Dark Lord found out from Rookwood that we would not be successful in our attempts to remove it by any means other than by your hand. So, my master focused his energies on getting you to do the job for him by means of your unique ‘connection’, she said, brushing his scar with her wand. Strangely enough, he felt a slight tingle when her wand touched the mark on his forehead.

“Ah, Potter, he really enjoyed planting those false images in your head, and when he realized that you were going to get caught in the trap he had so carefully laid for you, using my dear cousin as bait, he could scarcely contain his pleasure. And, even though it didn’t work out, I’ll admit we all shared some pleasure in eliminating Sirius. What have you learned from your chess playing Weasley friend? Sometimes, when you are unsuccessful in forcing a checkmate during a single attack, you can have some success in removing pieces from your opponent’s forces, and the more important the removed pieces are the better. I REALLY enjoyed that duel, Potter…”

Harry’s temper, which had been under control for a while, now, was back in full force by the time Bellatrix was done. “I KNOW! YOU KILLED HIM! YOU FOUL, EVIL…”

“Oh, spare me the melodramatics, Potter,” she stated in a no-nonsense voice, while pointing her wand back at his chin. “Shut up and listen for a minute. You bet I killed him. Best thing I did during that whole fiasco. That fact alone probably kept the Dark Lord from killing me after he found out I lost the prophecy. Besides, if I didn’t kill him, one of the other Death Eaters or my master would have done so; most likely in a more painful manner than knocking him through the Death Chamber veil, I’d wager.”

As he relived that painful scene, Harry’s anger began to rise again, but Bella ignored him while she checked the time once more.

“It was our plan all along to eliminate him as soon as possible,” she continued. “We actually had a number of plans set up to draw him out of hiding even if he hadn’t come to the ministry that night. He would have died the next time he was spotted by our people, either as himself or in his Animagus form. Wormtail, again, was very helpful in telling us how we could recognize him. Death Eaters could have killed him when he went with you to the train station at the beginning of the school year, but we still had our uses for him, as you now know. By the time he came to ‘rescue’ you, he had outlived his usefulness and there were some old debts that needed repaying.”

She noticed the confused look on Harry’s face, and then she realized something. “Oh, did you think that YOU were the cause of his death? That since he came to save you, you killed him? You DARE to try to take any credit for that victory from ME! How pathetic! Hate to break it to you, Potter, but it’s not always about you. Yes, you were helpful in getting him moving, but he always was a bit reckless, don’t you think? Eventually, we knew he would turn up, either to save you or for some other equally noble reason. And then, he would have died. I know my cousin quite well. He would risk his life to save you, or anyone he thought was in danger for that matter. But, it would have been his choice to do so. Foolish boy! No wonder he ended up in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. With a few exceptions, the rest of the Black Family was so ashamed when we heard the results of his Sorting.”

Harry, on the other hand, was again stunned by what he had heard. His thoughts were quite confused. <So, I might not have been completely responsible for Sirius’ death? Of course, this information WAS coming from the same Death Eater that killed Sirius, but, still, she sounded like she was being straightforward with me. If she had wanted to hurt me, all she had to do was say just the opposite and tell me I WAS responsible for his death, right? But, they were planning to kill him all along…>. As realization came to him, it was as if a weight had lifted from his soul. Suddenly, he felt something different than he had the past few weeks when he thought of Sirius. Not guilt at his godfather’s death, but pride… pride in how Sirius exemplified the very basis of what makes a Gryffindor – bravery. <But, why couldn’t Dumbledore have told me more bef…>

Bellatrix checked her watch one more time, then put it away, smiling a cruel smile. “Well, Potter, enough chit-chat. I’ve talked long enough, and you probably think I’ve given you more information than I should have and you’ll be working out some way to let Albus know about all of this. In fact, Goyle here is probably ready to wet himself with worry, if I know him. But, as you’ll see soon, it won’t really matter what I have told you, because, very soon, you won’t remember any of it. No, I’m not going to kill you, as much as I’d like that. The Dark Lord has better, more fitting, plans for you. He has faced you many times, and each time he has been unable to eliminate you. So, he has a plan to turn you to be an asset, not a hindrance, any more. Even if this plan fails, you’ll be out of the picture anyway, so to speak. Would you like to hear about it?” she said as she again tried looking deep into his eyes.

Harry’s face remained blank, and he immediately put up the shields he had learned during his Occlumency training with Snape. <Glad she’s not a good Legilimens, or maybe it’s because she’s not using her wand and the incantation.> He was glad he could keep Bellatrix’s probe out of his mind, but he was both curious and scared to death about what would happen next. <Turn towards the Dark Lord? Me? If I didn’t know better, I’d think Tom and Bellatrix have been watching those Star Wars movies! I swear, if he ever says, ‘Harry, I AM your father,’ I’ll probably hex him into next week, just for spite.>

To her, he said, “Sure, Bella. I can call you Bella, can’t I? I’d love to hear what your buddy TOMMY RIDDLE has planned for me this time. Funny, he’s been trying to kill me just about every year for five years now, not to mention when I was just a little tyke, and he STILL can’t get the job done. And they call him a “powerful” wizard! I’m sure this new plan of his will just be spiffing!” As Harry watched her reaction to his calculated attempt at rattling her, he thought by the end that, just maybe, he had overdone it a bit. <Maybe not such a good idea to provoke her…> he thought as he saw the rage rising in her eyes.

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT USING THAT…THAT…NAME IN MY PRESENCE”, she screamed, even louder than before. And, before he knew it, she yelled “CRUCIO” again.

**********

Harry slowly regained consciousness some unknown time later. He almost thought he heard a voice calling his name, but after what seemed like an eternity of pain and torture he wasn’t sure of anything. As his faculties returned, he said to himself, <No, definitely not a good idea…Note to self: Self, Don’t Do That Again. Hopefully, I won’t have to, though. If my guess was right, I may have just changed something important…>

Lestrange had calmed down somewhat, but there was still anger smoldering in her eyes as she said, “Oh, back with us again, Potter? You were out for a bit longer this time. I didn’t think I hit you that hard…hmm, must be out of practice controlling my Cruciatus Curses. Potter, you are either the stupidest or the bravest wizard I have seen in a while. But, no matter, let’s get back to my little tale, okay?” as she pointed her wand at him again.

Harry, with the pain of the last Cruciatus Curse still fresh, decided to keep his mouth shut and just nodded. He noticed Goyle opening his mouth as if to say something, then he closed it, obviously not pleased with what had happened. Then, without warning, Harry immediately thought of Hermione, or at least the calming feeling that he had felt a few times in the past year when he was with her. Before he was able to concentrate on what he thought he felt, Bellatrix’s harsh voice rudely interrupted him.

“Honestly, Potter, you are sure dragging this whole thing out way too long,” Bellatrix growled. “Time is getting a bit short, and I still haven’t told you what we are going to do to you. Well, let’s get to it. Do you remember the Time Room in the Department of Mysteries? And, do you remember what happened to Crabbe when he got tangled up with the bell jar and his head turned into that of a baby?”

Of course, Harry could not forget that strange event. He had seen the Death Eater fall into the bell jar and watched as his head changed from a baby to a man and back again. <So, that was Vincent’s dad, huh? I never knew. That’ll be fun to bring up with Crabbe with when I get back to Hogwarts!> he thought to himself. <Boy, I am full of myself. Here I am, wrapped up tightly in ropes, still recovering from a rather painful Cruciatus Curse, being threatened by evil minions of the most evil wizard known presently, and I’m thinking about how to take the mickey out of Crabbe the next time I see him. Guess there’s that Gryffindor bravery, or maybe it is stupidity, coming through.> He again nodded his head, answering her question.

“Well, that bell jar effect can, of course, be controlled. Crabbe got introduced to the time reverser effect without a knowledgeable wizard nearby, and it was only a partial exposure, besides. Took a while for the healers in St. Mungo’s prison ward to sort that out, and from what I understand, he still hasn’t really recovered. Not that he was all that sharp anyway, but he keeps on asking for his mummy and crying to have his nappies changed,” Bellatrix sneered.

Goyle laughed trollishly at this last, and Harry realized just how much his son was like him.

“But, Potter,” Lestrange continued, checking her pocket watch one more time, “since we’ve had access to this house for a while now, we’ve done a little bit more preparation for this glorious moment. We have established a time reverser effect in this house, and we have calculated precisely what it will do to anyone that enters it. Would you like to know what it will do to you, since you have obviously realized that you are the intended victim? Well, I’ll tell you, since our time here is almost done. The time reverser effect will send a person back in time, not as themselves, but as they would have been at the time where they are sent. If we miscalculate and send a person back before they were born, they will immediately cease to exist in any time. Don’t you worry, Potter, we’re quite confident we have not made such a mistake. Besides, there is 11 years or so to play with in your case, so it’s not like you have to worry us missing things by a hair.”

Harry, still a bit groggy from the Cruciatus Curse, was starting to put things together. “So…you’re going to make me eleven years old again? Why?”

“Very good, Potter. You are sharper than some give you credit. Another fifty points to Gryffindor!” she chortled. “As to why, I’ll tell you. We want you to go back and start your Hogwarts career over again, but this time with a slight change. No, Potter, I’m not going to tell you what has changed. That would ruin the surprise. Besides, you’ll never even know the difference. Yes, before you go, I’m going to have to do a rather thorough memory charm on you. It wouldn’t do to have you remember ANYTHING that has happened to you in the past five years, now, would it? GOYLE!”, she shouted, her eyes focused closely on her watch. “Come here and do your job! Quickly, you oaf!”

Goyle lumbered over and picked Harry up roughly. Even though he was still bound tightly by the magical ropes, he started to struggle as he found himself slung over Goyle’s massive shoulder. Goyle walked slowly towards the stairs, and Harry immediately recognized where he was headed. <No, no!> he thought, <Not in there again…I can’t go back in there.> His face must have revealed his thoughts, because Bellatrix, coming up behind them, saw him and said, “Yes, Potter, since the time reverser effect is, of necessity, rather small in volume, and requires something to contain it for maximum control, we thought it only fitting that it be established in your old ‘bedroom’. Vernon thought this was especially apropos, which is probably why he suggested it. In you go!”

Goyle opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs, and tossed him bodily onto his old, worn-out mattress. Harry had grown quite a bit since the last time he was here, so there wasn’t much room for him to move. He started panicking as he realized what was going to happen. <NO! … NO! HERMIONE!>

The last thing he heard was a loud “OBLIVIATE”, and then there was darkness.

Chapter 3 – The Drive Home

“Really soon, Harry,” said Hermione earnestly. “We promise.”

The promise she had just made was still fresh on her mind as she watched Harry trudge off into the car park, pushing a luggage trolley through the crowd, with Hedwig perched in her cage on top of his trunk. “Harry, be careful,” she whispered, as she slowly backed up and watched the Muggles follow along behind Harry at a distance. She noticed that Harry’s Uncle Vernon, especially, kept on looking back over his shoulder at Mad-Eye as Moody walked away. He also seemed to look more than once at her, with a calculating look in his eye as he did so. This resulted in Harry slowly separating from the Dursleys as they headed toward the car park. <That’s right, Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley; you’d better back off a little. Harry is a powerful wizard, and he’s just as likely to take care of any problems that may arise with you as any of the Order would. I promise one thing, if I hear that anyone has touched a hair on his head while he is in your home, you WILL find out what it is like to be hexed by the cleverest witch at Hogwarts, regardless of the Restrictions on Underage Sorcery!> she thought. <Wait a minute…I forgot! I’m not supposed to be protecting him. The rune is ‘ehwaz’, not ‘eihwaz’. Partnership, not defense…!>

Hermione’s thoughts were interrupted by her mother’s voice. “Hermione, dear? Aren’t you coming? What is wrong? Is something bothering you? Why did you have to go over to Harry with those people? They were wizards, weren’t they?”

“Yes, mum,” Hermione answered as they began walking slowly on the way to the car park, “and a witch, too. That was Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody, along with Nymphadora Tonks. She’s the pink-haired one, well, today, anyway,” she grinned. I’ve told you about them before. And, of course, you remember Mr. Weasley and his family” she said, watching them all go their separate ways.

“Isn’t Lupin the…werewolf, and Moody the one that was trying to kill Harry about this time last year?” her mother said, with apprehension in her voice.

“Close, mum. Yes, Lupin is a werewolf, but he’s safe this time of the month. And the man with the magic eye is the real Moody, not the imposter that was trying to kill Harry during the Triwizard Tournament last year. All of them, including Tonks and the Weasley parents, are members of an Order responsible for protecting Harry,” Hermione explained.

“Oh, Hermione, I wish what you just said made me feel better than it does! What has happened that your friend Harry needs that kind of protection? He’s never needed an escort like that when we’ve picked you up at the station before. I remember last year, the Weasley’s were there when his Uncle picked him up… you know, when you gave him that kiss on the cheek? Why the guard this time?” Hermione’s mother was just as inquisitive as her daughter, and Hermione could tell that she would have to explain.

But, as soon as she was reminded of the kiss from last year, she began to blush. “Mother! I explained that to you at the time! Harry had just experienced some terrible things last year, and he looked like he needed some cheering up. That’s why I kissed him, on the cheek, mind you, okay? It was just a show of support! By the time Hermione was finished, her voice was much louder than necessary.

“Hold on, sweetheart!” her mother said quickly. “I know all that. Honestly, you’d think I touched a nerve. And, as a dentist, I DO know what that is like!” she grinned. “Care to explain the explosion I just saw? All I was asking is why Harry needed a guard?”

Hermione paused, taking a deep calming breath while they continued to walk towards a different section of the car park than Harry had gone into. “I’m sorry, mum. It’s just been a stressful year. We, Harry and I, that is, have been working together a lot, and, well, you know, sometimes people talk. I assume that one of the Weasleys had fed the school gossip mill about us by exaggerating what happened with that kiss last year. Now I am so accustomed to having to explain that we’re just friends that I guess I forgot who I was talking to for a moment. Let me start over. As I have already told you, Harry is still under threat from that evil Dark Lord I told you about, but--”

“Voldemort, right?” her mother interrupted. “I don’t know why you keep on referring to him as the “Dark Lord”, or that ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’ foolishness! Why don’t you say his name? You were raised a Muggle, dear. You shouldn’t have that instilled fear of the name Voldemort that your wizard friends probably have.”

“Actually, I remembered having a similar conversation with you and Dad before,” Hermione said, smiling. “And, this year, I did as you suggested then and I have been using his name all of the time, now. I said it to Harry near the start of the school year when he was having some issues, and it seemed to help calm him down. You know, Ron still can’t stand to hear that name even now that we, that is, Harry and I, say it around him all the time. I guess he’ll never get used to it. Must be that inbred fear thing you mentioned. Harry, Dumbledore, Lupin, and I are about the only ones I know of who use it. Funny thing though; it’s not even his real name. He was raised in a Muggle orphanage and was originally called Tom Marvolo Riddle. Harry told me that a few years ago and I never mentioned it to you before.”

“Tom Marvolo Riddle…Hmm, yes… that would be “I am Lord Voldemort” now, wouldn’t it.” Her mother chuckled at the surprise on her daughter’s face. “You know I love anagrams, Hermione. Couldn’t pass that one up!”

“Yep, you’re definitely where I got my cleverness from, mum”, Hermione said, giggling.

“That’s because I still have mine,” her father said, repeating the old family chestnut. He had been pushing her luggage trolley (with Crookshanks sitting regally on top) and listening quietly to his daughter and wife as they talked. As they were getting Hermione’s things put away in the car, in the distance they heard a loud revving of an engine and squealing tyres.

“Keep your eyes open”, Hermione’s dad said as they loaded into the car and he started the engine. “Sounds like someone’s in a wicked hurry to get out of here. They may be headed in this direction, and I don’t want to get in their way.”

But, the sounds faded instead of coming closer, so Mr. Granger pulled out into traffic. As soon as he got into the correct lane on the motorway, he said, “Hermione, you never finished answering your mother’s question about Harry’s guard. This Voldemort fellow isn’t getting stronger, is he? Are YOU in danger, sweetheart?”

<Leave it to Dad to get right to the point!> Hermione thought. “No, Dad,” she said carefully, “well, at least no more than usual. Remember, I told you that Voldemort was out to get rid of all Muggle-born witches and wizards, along with any ‘half-bloods’ like Harry, and ‘traitorous full-bloods’, like the Weasley’s, that happen to get in his way. So, yes, I AM in danger by my very existence on the earth at the same time as him and his gang. But, are you going to let me answer Mum’s question, or not?” she said, sounding somewhat exasperated.

“Sorry, dear,” he said, a bit sheepishly. “Go ahead. It’s just, well; you know how it is when a father wants to protect his family, especially his only child. Sometimes I feel so helpless when I think about all you have to put up with in the wizarding world. And, knowing you, I’m sure you haven’t told us even half of what you’ve been doing. For example, I have noticed you’ve been favoring one side when you walk, and especially when you lifted your trunk into the car just now, so I’m sure you got hurt doing something this last year. I also know that you don’t want us to worry, so you probably will never tell us what happened. Then, I begin to wonder if we did the right thing when we said yes to your Professor McGonagall all those years ago.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears as she realized what he was implying. “Daddy, please don’t say that! I can assure you that you did the right thing. If you hadn’t let me go to Hogwarts, I’d still be in danger, but I wouldn’t have any idea about either the danger or what to do about it. Magic is a part of me, regardless of whether I am in the Muggle world or the Wizarding one, and Voldemort would still want to kill me in either case. ALL non-pureblood magic people, and, for that matter, all Muggles, are in great danger from him. Remember what Professor McGonagall said when she visited us?”

And, in a spot-on imitation of her favorite teacher, Hermione quoted from memory. “Your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, is a part of the Wizarding World by right. You have known since she was born that she was different, and as her powers developed, you realized that she was more than that – she was unique among her school friends. We still do not know why a child of Muggle parents has the inborn ability to use magic. In Hermione’s case, especially, our tests have indicated that she has the potential to amaze even us with her abilities. I have come here to invite you to help her understand and control that unique ability, at least partially for your protection and hers. A magical person like her that is untrained can be quite a danger to herself and others. But, there are even those of our kind who feel that these children should be prevented from learning magic. We at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be honored to work with her and you as parents to explore her gifts.”

“Wow… Hermione, I’m surprised you remember that so perfectly after all this time, and you sounded so much like her when you repeated it,” Mrs. Granger said in amazement, “but then, I guess that is just a small example of what Minerva was talking about. Please continue, Hermione. Tell us what you can and we’ll keep quiet until you’re done.”

“Thanks, mum,” Hermione said, with a slight catch in her voice. She had managed to keep her tears at bay, but the love she felt from her parents made it difficult. Her eyes glistening, she continued. “As I was saying, Harry is still under threat from Voldemort. But, these past few years, I found out that Harry was also under a different kind of threat. This is both a physical and an emotional threat, and it comes from his relatives, the Dursleys. I will spare you the sad details, but suffice it to say, they have been treating him horribly his whole life. It is amazing that Harry has come through it all as well as he has, even though I know first-hand that his anger is close to the surface. Sometimes he can’t help but let it out, with unpleasant results for those around him at the time.” Hermione could tell right away by the Grangers’ reaction that she shouldn’t have mentioned his anger, but they let her continue.

“Anyway, the guard, as you put it, was just there as shows of support, or maybe force, to let the Dursleys know that they better be more civil when it comes to how they treat him this year. Someone from the group will be in contact with Harry at least every three days, or else I…I mean, they, will investigate and take the appropriate action at that time. That’s all.”

Mr. Granger smiled at her slip of the tongue, but didn’t say anything. He knew that his daughter meant to be quite involved in protecting Harry. He was realizing just how much she had changed since the previous year. First, leaving home so early last summer to go “visit some friends from school in London” weeks before school started. And then, when she didn’t come home for Christmas, giving some transparent last-minute excuse about “studying for exams” over the holidays instead of being with them at the ski trip they had been planning for a year previous. He and his wife had resigned themselves to no longer having their little girl around much anymore. They assumed, somehow, that she was doing something with, or for, Harry. They also knew that they were the proud parents of a unique, powerful, and independent young woman.

But, one obvious question came to his mind. “Hermione, dear, if it is so terrible for Harry to live with his relatives, why doesn’t he live somewhere else? I’m sure that many wizard families would be glad to take him into their home. Or, your mother and I would be very happy to have him stay with us for as long as necessary, even. You’ve mentioned him in every letter you’ve ever written to us from Hogwarts, so we’d like to see for ourselves what kind of young man you have for your friend. Besides, we have a spare bedroom, you know, and we know we can trust the two of you to behave yourselves.”

The more Hermione thougth about Harry visiting, the happier she looked - a fact which did not go unobserved by Mrs. Granger. “Yes, sweetheart– we’re almost home now. Why don’t you telephone Harry after he has a chance to get where he’s going and invite him to visit for a week or so? He lives in Surrey, doesn’t he? We’ll gladly go pick him up tomorrow afternoon. We don’t have any appointments scheduled for tomorrow, since we planned to spend it with you, but this will work out fine. We’ll be able to visit more with you while we’re traveling to Surrey, and then chat with Harry on the return trip. What do you say?”

“Well, mum, that’s just it,” Hermione answered quickly. She definitely didn’t want to dwell on the thoughts that were running through her head right now. <Harry, away from Hogwarts, just the two of us, for a week, possibly more! Harry, sleeping right next door to me in the spare bedroom, with no charms on any staircase to keep him from---” No…mustn’t go there…Mum and Dad trust me…> she thought as she blushed even more noticeably. She cleared her throat and answered, “I’ve thought of that very thing…no, not Harry staying with us…” <Will my face EVER return to its normal color?> “…but the thing about why Harry has to stay there, for as long as I have known what the Dursleys were doing to him. Neither Harry nor Professor Dumbledore will say anything, but I’m sure that there must be a reason. Before I call Harry, I’ll contact the Headmaster and ask him if it would be okay for Harry to visit. That will give Harry time to get to Little Whinging and get settled in before I call.”

Crookshanks snuggled comfortably in Hermione’s lap. He had been sitting on the seat next to her while they had been driving, but as the conversation turned to the discussion about Harry visiting; he had jumped into her lap and started purring softly. “How about that, Crookshanks? Would you like to have Harry and Hedwig come visit us for a while?” Hermione asked. He rose up on his front legs in her lap, looked directly into her eyes, and meowed happily. Hermione was sure that if he could talk, he would have been agreeing with her. As they pulled into their driveway, she gave the part-Kneazle a big hug. <Maybe this summer isn’t going to be so bad after all,> she thought smugly.

Chapter 4– Hermione’s Three Visitors

(A/N – Just in case, I think this chapter ends up earning a PG-13 rating later due to some violent descriptions I included. I did exercise restraint, but some reader’s minds may fill in the blanks.)

Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,

My parents have asked me to ask you if it would be okay to invite Harry and Hedwig to stay with us for a week or so this summer. They noticed the escort from the Order when we were at King’s Cross Station (it was difficult to miss them), and I had to explain what they were doing there. (By the way, if you had anything to do with that, thank you! You should have seen the look on the Dursley’s faces when Moody showed them his eye! It was priceless! I’m sure Mr. Dursley will be limping for a week after hitting that trolley. And, I don’t think Mrs. Dursley will get the vision of Tonks’ pink hair out of her mind for ages!)

From what my parents have heard and seen, they don’t think Harry should have to put up with that situation any longer. They can’t understand why he hasn’t been staying with a family in the wizarding world all this time, and I have had the same question. I am aware that he has spent time at the Burrow in the past, and at headquarters, so I know that he CAN be away from that awful home. Why does he have to go there at all?

Professor, I would like very much for Harry to have a chance to see what it is like to live in a “normal” Muggle home. I am not saying my family is perfect by any means, but we do love each other and we don’t even have a cupboard under our stairs. (Sorry, sir, but I couldn’t resist.) I know that he is much happier when he is away from them, and with all the things that have happened this past year I’m sure that he doesn’t need to face Privet Drive right now on top of his other problems. He has still not talked to anyone that I know of about Sirius’ death, although Luna Lovegood did mention something to me that indicates he is not handling things well.

Please let me know by return owl if you think this is a good idea. I have Harry’s phone number, and my parents are willing to drive to Surrey to get him tomorrow afternoon if you give your approval.

Your student,

Hermione Granger

Hermione had hurried to the writing desk in her room as soon as she had come in the door, only stopping to make sure Crookshanks was settled in his favorite basket near the kitchen, and had been pondering what to say in the letter ever since. She had left her parents to bring in the luggage, for, to be honest; her side still did hurt when she tried to pick up anything heavy. Madam Pomfrey said that she would feel soreness for at least a month or so, but that things should get better over time. <Oh, if I ever see Dolohov again, I’ll remember to do more than just a ‘Silencio’ on him! How could I have been so stupid? Didn’t Harry warn us in our DA meetings? ‘Never let down your guard when you suspect your opponent is still a threat!’ Well, when he visits, I can finally apologize to Harry for not doing so well on our ‘Practical DADA’ exam from Dumbledore’s Army. I mean, I ended up unconscious and barely alive. That probably rates a D at least, maybe even a T! Then, I can ask the ‘professor’ for some …remedial DADA lessons, since I did so horribly? Maybe even a detention is in order – it will be a lot more fun than a detention with Snape, that’s for sure. I’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind to arrange something while he’s here. He’s my best friend, after all. Now, wait a minute, where did that thought come from?>, she pondered. <When did I start thinking of Harry as my …my….best friend? What about Ginny, and Ron, and…?>

She looked into the mirror over her dresser, and started a dialogue she had been intentionally, deliberately, avoiding for a long time. <After the thoughts that were just running through your head when you were fantasizing about extra lessons and a detention with Harry, why are you kidding yourself, Hermione? For someone who’s ‘the cleverest witch of your age’, as Lupin said, you sure are clueless when it comes to your own feelings sometimes. Or, is it denial? You’ve felt that way about Harry since your first year at Hogwarts, before you even met Ginny, and you know it. Just admit it to yourself and things will be a whole lot easier. And, besides, I think you’re past the ‘best friend’ stage. You know you can’t fool me! I know what you were thinking!>

With a sigh, and knowing she was right about what she had just admitted to herself, then blushing (again) as she struggled to get certain thoughts out of her mind, she rolled up the parchment, sealing it with a tap of her wand. <I’m glad that one of the privileges of being a prefect is the ability to do simple magic away from Hogwarts, as long as we are discreet about it. I’d hate to have to contact Professor Dumbledore using Muggle Post. Just think, this coming September I’ll be of age, and then I can use magic when I need to. I wish Hedwig were here, but I’m sure Harry’s forgotten to let her out of her cage. Now, what was that incantation to request an Owl Post pickup? Oh, yes…> “Strigiformes prevenire mihi!”

As soon as she said this, instead of seeing a regular postal owl she saw Hedwig’s beautiful white plumage appear just outside her window. <What service! I’ve never had an owl show up that quickly before.> She let Harry’s owl in, closed the window, and handed her some owl treats she had stored in her room. Hedwig hooted her thanks, and then stuck her leg out obediently. “Hedwig, I was just thinking how nice it would be if you showed up. How did you get here so quickly? I guess Harry did remember to let you out of your cage! He must be home, then. Oh, Hedwig! I’m writing Professor Dumbledore to ask if you and Harry could come visit here this summer. Would you like that? Do you think you could get this to him quickly so I can call Harry and make the arrangements? If he’s already home, I want to get him out of that horrid place as quickly as possible.”

Hedwig nipped affectionately at Hermione’s cheek and looked into her eyes. Again, Hermione was certain that Hedwig would be in agreement if she could speak. “Okay, Hedwig; let me get this fastened to your leg. We wouldn’t want this one to fall off, now, would we?”

If an owl could look slightly offended, Hermione thought, it would look just like Hedwig did then. She looked reproachfully at Hermione, as if to say that proper owls NEVER lose a mail delivery. Hermione grinned back. “Just kidding, Hedwig. I know you know what to do. It’s just that I’m a bit worried about Harry, and the quicker I hear back from Professor Dumbledore and get Harry here, the happier I’ll be.”

<That’s just great. Here I am, starting to admit my feelings to an owl! Harry’s owl, especially! Oh, well, I’ll have to get used to it. I’m sure if this keeps on going the way I hope, I’ll be doing this a lot more frequently. Or, maybe everyone will figure it out for themselves when they see Harry and me together. That is, IF he feels the same way about me!>. Her smile faded. <What happens then? What happens if I invite Harry to come here and he says that he’d rather stay there? What if he tells me that he’s not interested in seeing me until next September? > “Oh, Hedwig… that would be terrible!” This last part she said out loud; and Hedwig hopped over and looked in her eyes again. This time, it looked very much like the owl was trying to reassure her and calm her fears. “So, Hedwig, are you telling me that you know a secret or two about Harry’s feelings? Hmm, wish I knew a way to read an owl’s mind!” She cheered up quickly, and as she opened up the window again said “Okay, I promise to not worry about that until the time comes. But hurry, Hedwig! Get that to Professor Dumbledore!”

Since her back was to the bedroom door, Hermione didn’t notice that her mother had come up behind her. She was bringing a plate of Hermione’s favorite biscuits, along with some milk and tea. Mrs. Granger had been watching and listening as Hermione was tying the note to Hedwig’s leg, so some of her questions were already answered. She cleared her throat and she thought for a moment that Hermione was going to jump out of her skin.

“Mum, please don’t do that! You surprised me!” Hermione, slightly flustered, got up from her chair and noticed what her mother had in her hands. “Oh! These are my favorite biscuits! You baked them yourself, didn’t you? I never get them at Hogwarts. Maybe I can give Dobby your recipe when I go back and he can make some for Har…everyone.”

“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Granger smiled. “I threw a batch together before we came to pick you up, let the dough sit while we were gone, and just now got them out of the oven. You know I rarely bake, what with there only being the two of us here most of the year and with our busy schedules. I know you love them, though, and I thought it would be nice for you to have when you got here. I was just bringing them up to your room when I heard you talking, and then you opened the window. Wasn’t that Harry’s owl I saw flying away? You used her to send Harry his birthday present a few years ago, didn’t you?”

“That’s right, mum. Hedwig is a great delivery owl. After I finished writing the note to Professor Dumbledore, I called for a postal owl, but I was wishing that Hedwig was around. Immediately, Hedwig was outside. It is almost like she heard me or something. I know Hedwig is not an ordinary owl, even in the wizarding world, but I had always thought that owls were only that connected to their master or mistress… and the immediate family… Hmmm…” Hermione’s eyes widened and her blush deepened as the implications of what she had just said sunk in.

Mrs. Granger took that as a great opening. “Well, Hermione, that makes it a little bit easier for me to ask what I came to ask you. Pardon the bribe,” she said, indicating the tray of biscuits, “but I…we, your father and I, that is, wanted to talk to you. Since you haven’t been home all that much since then, going off to London most of last summer, not coming home for Christmas, and all that, I really miss having the chance to talk. You and I have always been able to share things as best friends and you’ve always been honest with me, so I’d like to hear what is going on between you, Ron, and Harry.”

Hermione was definitely not expecting THAT name to come up. “Ron…? What does he have to do with anything, Mum? Ron’s …Ron’s the tall, red-haired brother that I never had! Why would you think there was something going on between him and me? That’s nearly as crazy as thinking I’m interested in… oh, let’s say…Viktor Krum! Ron’s a great friend of Harry’s, and the three of us do spend a lot of time together, I suppose…” ,she paused for a moment, “…but not so much this past year, now that I think about it. Ron’s been busy with Quidditch tryouts, practices, and games, and ever since Harry was banned from playing by…well, never mind about that…(a certain face had just come into mind, followed immediately by a flash of anger crossing Hermione’s face) we’ve just done more things as a pair this year. Honestly, I wasn’t all that fussed about Harry not having to worry so much about Quidditch. You know I’ve never been all that fond of sports, and Harry had a lot more time to concentrate on his studies during our O.W.L. year without that distraction.”

Her mother wasn’t fooled. “That’s an interesting story, my dear. I seem to remember you having quite a different attitude in the past about Quidditch, at least in the letters we’ve received over the years. You were always telling us things like how scary it was when Harry almost got thrown off his broom during first year, and your handwriting was VERY shaky when you wrote us after Harry did fall off his broom and ended up in the hospital wing during your third year. I also seem to recall running commentaries about how brave Harry was whenever he caught the…snitch, is it… - after every match. I could show you a few letters you wrote that start out ‘HARRY WON!’ Not, ‘Gryffindor won’, mind you, but Harry! So, don’t try to pull that ‘not fond of sports…’ stuff on me. I wasn’t born yesterday, you know!” she said with a grin.

“But, back to what I asked you. We both got the distinct impression from another letter you wrote two Christmases ago after that fancy ball that Ron may have just started feeling some…stirrings of interest, shall we say, and that you may have started thinking about your feelings for him then? I ask again, what is happening between the three of you? I take it from your reaction a minute ago that Ron’s not in the picture, at least in that way. We’ve always been able to talk opently about what’s on your mind in the past, so, just what are your feelings?

Hermione groaned inwardly. <Oh, great, I just started to admit things to myself a few minutes ago, and now my parents want to know what is going on. Well, better drum up some of that Gryffindor courage I’m supposed to have, and give it a go! > She mentally braced herself, and started in. “Well, mum, I’m not quite sure yet. You’re right. I did think some about Ron for a while, because I had read something about ‘opposites attracting’. I also heard someone say that Ron and I - who are about as opposite as you can get - sound like an old married couple when we fight. The more I thought about it, though, the less I wanted to spend my life in a relationship based on yelling and arguing. I saw how you and Daddy have never argued that way, at least in front of me, and my dream has always been to have that kind of relationship when the time comes.” Mrs. Granger’s face relaxed into a knowing smile as Hermione finished, “I was having this very discussion with myself about Harry after I finished the letter just now.”

Hermione had lapsed into silence for a moment. She had just felt…something…when she thought of Harry’s name. It was a brief flash of intense pain that just as quickly disappeared. <That’s not good! I shouldn’t be feeling pain when I think of Harry. Wonder what that’s all about.>

“And, what did you decide during this discussion?” Mrs. Granger prompted, realizing that her daughter was off in another world.

“Well, let’s see if I can explain this without getting too embarrassed.” Hermione started in, and as she spoke, it became easier to continue. “I realized just now, as I thought about the possibility of him coming to visit me, just how much I was looking forward to seeing him, without anyone else around. I mean, when we’re at Hogwarts, he’s always got other things on his mind. Quidditch, Ron, Voldemort trying to kill him, and maybe even a little schoolwork now and then…” (She grinned to herself at this – he had done much better this past year with his studies, especially after she gave him the homework planner at Christmas. She knew he probably wanted to burn it at first, but eventually she saw him using it before the term was over.)

“Earth to Hermione….you did it again. Honestly, am I ever going to get a complete thought out of you? I admit, these pauses are quite informative as to the answer to my question, but I’d like you to at least complete your sentence before you go to your happy place!” Mrs. Granger was smiling fondly at her daughter. She remembered feeling the same way about a certain young man about 18 years ago, herself. But, it was still different seeing it happening to her only child. <She’s really not my little girl anymore, is she? I’m really the mother of a beautiful young woman now. Where has the time gone? Now, I’m off in my own world, too! I’m just as bad as she is!> Mrs. Granger thought.

“Now, you were saying something about Harry and schoolwork? If you think of him at the same time as your studies, you must have it pretty bad,” she teased.

“Mum, stop it! You’re not making this any easier,” Hermione giggled. “My…happy place? I swear that my face is going to be permanently stuck this color. Well, where was I? Okay, anyway, I just would like him to have a chance to get away from all that, and just have some time with no pressures. If he were here, he wouldn’t be ‘The Boy Who Lived’; he could just be Harry, a regular boy who is getting ready to turn 16 next month. Even if that is all he gets out of a visit here, I think that would help him more than anything I could do for him. And, just maybe, I could do something else for…”

At that very moment, she felt, no, she heard, Harry’s voice in her head. <HERMIONE, I NEED YOU!”>, he yelled, and then, as quickly as before, it was gone. The next thing she knew, she was looking up at the ceiling of her bedroom.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” her mother sounded quite scared. “Your eyes just flashed green, and then they rolled up in your head for a second before you fell back on your bed. Are you okay? What just happened?”

“I…I…,”she sputtered, as her eyes focused again, her legs so wobbly that she couldn’t stand up. “I don’t…I can’t explain it. I’ve never experienced anything like that before… It’s Harry, Mum. I think he’s in some sort of trouble! He just called for me…in my head. He said he needed me. I need to talk to him right now! Where is the telephone? Mum, help me get up!” she said as once again she fell back onto her bed.

“Now, wait just a minute, Hermione Jane Granger!” her mother spoke forcefully, in full protective mother mode. “You have just turned white as a sheet and nearly passed out, you tell me that you are hearing Harry in your head, and you want me to stand you on your feet when you can’t even stop your legs from shaking? Let’s think about this first. I promise I’ll help you, but I need to know what just happened! Now, slowly, let’s take it from the top. Catch your breath and calm down. First, how do you know it was Harry that you heard just now?”

Hermione answered as soon as she had enough strength to speak again, “Honestly, Mother! Don’t you think I recognize his voice by now after all these years? No, it was definitely Harry, and he is in trouble. Please, let me just check to see if he is okay? I’ve got the Dursley’s phone number over on my desk. Can you help me get to the phone downstairs? Oh, why don’t you have a phone on this floor! I have to help him. He needs me, Mother!”

Mrs. Granger, when she looked in her daughter’s eyes at that moment, and heard the tone in her voice, learned all that she needed to know to answer her questions about her daughter’s feelings for Harry. She sensed a mixture of the protectiveness of a mother lioness watching over her cubs and the love of an adult woman for her mate. She had seen it before on rare occasions, but never as strongly as she just saw it in her nearly seventeen year old daughter. As she bent down to help Hermione to her feet, placing her daughter’s arm on her shoulder for support as they moved slowly towards the stairs to go to the telephone in the kitchen, she thought once again, <Why does my daughter have to grow up so fast? Why does she have to face the terrors and trials that have matured her before her time? Why doesn’t she get a normal childhood? Not that she’s ever BEEN normal…> she chuckled to herself.

By the time they made the trip together to the bottom of the stairs, Hermione’s was able to walk more steadily, so she hurried unaided to the kitchen phone. She dialed the Dursley’s number, then she heard an automated voice saying that the number she dialed had been disconnected. She tried again, making sure that she dialed the number correctly, with the same result.

Hermione’s frustration was starting to build. “The phone company says the number is disconnected. That can’t be right! Maybe Harry didn’t give me his real phone number…Maybe he never wanted me to call, so he gave me the wrong number!”

“Hermione, don’t be silly. You’re starting to hyperventilate, and I don’t want you to black out again,” her mother said firmly. By this time, Mr. Granger had come into the room from his study after hearing Hermione’s panic attack. Crookshanks had also climbed out of his basket and was walking in circles around Hermione, obviously agitated by the emotional state he sensed his mistress was in.

“What’s wrong with Hermione, dear? What’s this about hyperventilating? She blacked out? What is going on?” he demanded, wanting to know why his normally calm wife and daughter were standing in the kitchen with a scared look on both of their faces.

“Love, I can’t explain right now except to say that Hermione needs to call Harry right away and she can’t seem to get through. Could you see what you can do? I’ve got to take care of her.” Mrs. Granger said, as she grabbed a nearby chair and pushed Hermione into it. Hermione was still staring at the handset of the phone, as if she could will it to connect to the Dursley’s home in Surrey.

Mr. Granger gently pried her fingers loose from the phone. “Let your old dad take care of it, dearest. What’s the number? I’ll get through to them for you.” Hermione had the presence of mind to hand her father the paper with the Dursley’s address and phone number on it. He dialed carefully, and he frowned as he heard the same disconnect message from the phone system. “Well, that didn’t work,” he said, while Hermione let out a rattling sob, “let me try the operator and see if there is a problem with the lines.” He rang up the operator, and asked to be connected to Vernon Dursley in Little Whinging, Surrey. “Yes, that’s right, number four, Privet Drive.” A pause. “Are you sure? Just this morning, you say? Do you have a new number for them?” Another pause. “Yes, I will check back later. Thank you, Goodbye.”

“This is peculiar,” he said to his wife and daughter. “The operator says that the Dursley’s phone was disconnected first thing this morning, and they have not yet requested new service. They said that we can call back later and see if a reconnection order has been entered, although it is not their policy to give out new addresses or phone numbers in an attempt to protect the privacy of their customers.”

Hermione, still breathing heavily, started to lose control again. “We need to contact Dumbledore…or someone in the Order. They need to know that Harry is in trouble!” But, before she could do anything else, her head seemed to split open with pain. Before she lost consciousness this time, she was sure that she had heard a vaguely familiar female voice saying “CRUCIO!”

*

*

*

“Hermione…Hermione, please wake up!” She felt a cool, damp, cloth pressed against her head, and realized that her mother was speaking to her while her father was holding her hand, with Crookshanks meowing loudly as he paced around the room.

As her vision returned slowly, she recognized that she was lying on the sofa next to the picture window in her father’s study adjacent to the kitchen. The sky seemed to be a bit darker outside, so she assumed she had been knocked out for a while. “Wha…What happened?” she managed to choke out. “How did I get here…? I was in the kitchen just now. Where’s Harry? I need to talk to him…He’s in trouble…I need to get to him…quickly.” She tried to rise, but found she was not strong enough to stand yet.

“Amazing,” a familiar, kindly voice spoke, “I seem to remember a very similar situation with another young Gryffindor waking up after a magical shock to his system at the end of his first year. At that time, I couldn’t seem to distract Harry from his, shall we say, ‘obsession’, either. Miss Granger, I promise you we will get to the bottom of this as quickly as we can. But, I must ask you to calm yourself before you worry your parents, and me, any more. You’ve experienced a painful upset to your mind, and I need you to cooperate. Here, have some Honeydukes chocolate now that you are awake. I always keep some on hand for just such an occasion.”

“Professor…Dumbledore!” Hermione gasped as she took a bite of the chocolate he offered to her. “But, how… did you…I mean, why…what is happening to Harry? Did you get my message? Why are you here?” As she swallowed, her entire body seemed to warm up from the effects of the chocolate and she rapidly regained her normal speech.

“Slowly, Miss Granger, slowly,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I realize that time is of the essence here, but I will not have you lose consciousness again. Your mind is rather unsettled right now, and I don’t want to have to revive you again. Let the chocolate have a chance to finish its work, while I get you up to speed on what has happened in the past…two minutes that you have been out…hmm, that’s odd…,” he said, consulting his twelve-handed pocket watch. “First, instead of what happened on the other occasion that I mentioned just now, I actually did get your owl. Although, as happened previously, I had already had a feeling that I needed to be elsewhere. Fortunately for all concerned, I was not too far from here, having business at the Ministry today regarding some, shall we say, miscreants that I had apprehended there recently. And, when Hedwig found me and gave me your letter, I realized that where I needed to be was here at your home. I came here as soon as I could break away. Although, I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you on the floor of your kitchen, obviously under the influence of a remote Cruciatus Curse!”

“A…what?” all three of the Grangers exclaimed simultaneously. The elder Grangers because they didn’t know what he were talking about, and Hermione because she had some idea.

“But, sir…how is that possible?” Hermione asked, her voice still a bit strained. No one in the house except me even knows what a Cruciatus Curse is, and I promise I didn’t use it on myself! I didn’t even know Crucio could be cast…remotely, did you say? And, who would be trying to curse me here, anyway? Does this have something to do with Harry?” She was rapidly losing control again, words coming out faster and faster as she spoke.

“Miss Granger, what did I just say to you? Here, have a larger piece of chocolate, while I try to answer your insightful questions. For, if we knew the answer to all of them, I think we would be able to do something productive about the situation we find ourselves in currently. First, a remote Cruciatus Curse is not something that is cast, per se. It is, instead, a rare side effect that is seen when a person who is attacked by a Cruciatus Curse is in close mental contact with another person. Depending on the power of both the Cruciatus that is cast, and the strength of the connection between the two parties, the distance separating them, and many other factors, the secondary person is affected much like the intended target. This is similar to why Harry’s scar hurt whenever Tom cast a Cruciatus Curse in the past. By the way, Hermione, you have seen another sad example of this effect. Do you remember your visit to St. Mungo’s last Christmas holiday?”

“You mean Neville’s parents? The Longbottoms? Oh, that’s right, they were cursed too, weren’t they – by the Lestranges and… Barty Crouch, Jr., if I remember what Harry told me? But, what exactly happened to them?” Hermione asked, again in control of her self. The second piece of chocolate had turned the trick.

“You know, of course, that Frank and Alice Longbottom were trained Aurors, members of the original Order of the Phoenix, and, obviously, a married couple,” Dumbledore explained. “Over the years, we have learned that certain Auror pairs can develop a bond between them that is useful in their unique line of work. The pair has to be extremely compatible mentally, magically, and spiritually for this to work, The Muggles refer to it as being ‘soul mates.’ The bond is more than that, of course, but that gives you the general idea. These pairs can, with training, diffuse the power of many curses between the two of them, thus rendering an opponent’s best spell less than half as powerful. We have found that these couples instinctively seek their counterpart’s mind when they are in danger, and thereby defend each other through their partnership.” Albus’s eyes twinkled merrily as he said this, looking into Hermione’s eyes with a smile. A small “Oh...”of recognition escaped her lips as she realized what he had just said.

Before she could react further, he continued, and the twinkle quickly left him. “Unfortunately, this bond, which is nearly impossible to break once fully established, has a negative effect when certain dark spells are involved. Specifically, as you are no doubt figuring out, the Unforgivable Curses. Imperius, Cruciatus, and, we assume, the Killing Curse, all resonate within the bond and it ends up adversely affecting both parties. Again, if the pair is separated by a distance, the resonance within the pair is reduced, but the effect is still there.”

“Soon after Tom’s first defeat,” he related, “Frank and Alice had received a tip from an unknown source, and were attempting to capture a group of Death Eaters. When they got to the reported location, they found it was a trap and they were captured by the Lestranges, most likely aided by Crouch Jr. and possibly other wizards. We do think that Barty was the one that provided the tip that baited the trap. After the Longbottoms were captured, the Death Eaters started torturing them for information about Tom’s location. Bellatrix, while not aware of the cause, noticed that as they cast spells on one of them in an effort to get them to tell where Tom was, the other one was reacting to the curse, but with a reduction in power on both of them.”

Albus took a deep breath before continuing. “Being a student of the dark arts, having learned her skills from Tom himself, Bellatrix conducted a rather perverse experiment on the two of them. She, her husband, and Barty, most likely, tried different spells of increasing power and darkness on each of them in turn, and then observed the results over a period of days, with different distances separating them, and so forth. She was very thorough, I must say. By the time she finished her series of increasingly depraved and disgusting tortures, she had observed the compounding effect through the bond of the Unforgivable Curses with first, Imperius, and finally, Crucio. We were finally able to break in to where they were working and capture the Lestranges before she finished her experiments, we assume with an Avada Kedavra. It was, as was brought out during the sentencing, ‘a most heinous crime’. Barty Jr. was not present at the time we found them, he was with another group of Death Eaters we caught soon thereafter, and that is why there was some doubt as to his actual involvement. But, I’m still not sure if we did them a favor by rescuing them when we did. It may have been a greater kindness to let them die, after what they had been through.” As he finished this last sentence, there was bitterness in Albus’ voice that he didn’t try to hide.

The three Grangers, along with Crookshanks, remained silent during this terrible explanation. Tears were in all the human’s eyes, and even Crookshanks seemed subdued when Dumbledore finished. “But, Professor…how…how did you know all of this? Surely the Longbottoms weren’t able to tell you what happened to them, were they? Did Bellatrix tell you all of this for some perverse reason?” Hermione asked, in a very small, shaky voice, not really wanting to know the answer.

“As I said, Hermione,” Albus answered quietly, in a detached voice. It was obvious that he was not relishing reliving what he was about to say. “Bellatrix was quite thorough in her experimentation. She very accurately recorded her findings, and we were easily able to reconstruct the sequence of events. Also, during her trial before she was sentenced, we forcefully used a Pensieve on her to verify that the facts recorded in her logbook actually occurred. As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, it was my unpleasant responsibility to document the details of what happened from her own memories in the Pensieve and testify to them in court, because she was a very uncooperative witness. Many of the council were unable to stay in the courtroom through my entire stay on the stand. I admit, I would have preferred to be elsewhere, myself. As it was, the trial took its toll on many wizard families, including the Crouch family, as Hermione is well aware.”

After a moment, Mr. Granger spoke up, his voice quite unsteady. “But, I don’t understand, Albus. What does this…this…terrible story you have told us have to do with my daughter?”

“That, my dear sir, is what we have to find out,” Dumbledore said with a soft sigh, his eyes mostly closed.

Hermione noticed that he looked extremely drained and…old, somehow. She had never really thought about how many evil things her headmaster had seen in his long life, having defeated one Dark Lord many years before, being actively involved in the rise, fall, and reappearance of another one, and she could tell now that it was starting to take its toll on him.

“Miss Granger, can you tell us what has happened since Moody and company finished talking to Harry’s family at King’s Cross Station this afternoon? I have a full report up until that point from Tonks. And, yes, I did have a little to do with the ‘reception committee’, as you referred to the Auror team in your letter. Actually, I had to turn down a number of volunteers from the Order for that assignment. I felt that the team I assembled, along with you, Miss Granger, would be quite effective to achieve my intended purposes. And, from reading Tonks’ and your reports, the desired effect was obtained.” The twinkle was starting to return to his eyes, but it would be a while before he would be back to his normally cheerful self.

“Well, Professor, after they left, Mrs. Weasley hugged him, and Ron said that we’d see him soon and left with his mother. Harry looked so lost and forlorn standing there, that I tried to reassure him as to what Ron had said before he left. I said “Really soon, Harry, we promise.”

At this, Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he simply said, “Go on, Miss Granger.”

Hermione continued with her narrative, “Well, then Harry went off towards the car park, with the Dursleys following. Vernon kept on looking back at Moody, and he also seemed to look back at me a few times with a very unpleasant look on his face. I promised myself when I saw him looking at me that I would take care of things if I found out Harry was harmed while he was there.”

Now, Albus’ mustache began to twitch noticeably.

“By this time, my parents and I were walking towards a different section of the car park, and I told them some of what was going on with Harry at the station. As we were getting ready to leave, we heard a very loud car speed out of the car park. I can only assume that was Vernon driving like a maniac, now that I think about it. We didn’t see the car, so they must have gone out a different way towards Surrey, since we live in the opposite direction. As we were driving home, among other things, we started discussing Harry’s situation at the Dursley’s, and that is when my parents were kind enough to invite him to spend some time with us over the summer. I said I thought it would be best to check with you first, which is why I sent the letter you received. As my mother and I were talking in my room about Harry, I remember feeling an intense twinge of pain that was there for just a second, and then it was gone.”

Albus sat up straighter at this, but still kept quiet.

“Hermione, you didn’t say anything about that to me, dear,” her mother spoke up, “when did that happen? Oh, I remember, your face went blank for a second. I thought it was because of the subject matter we were discussing then. Sorry, sweetheart, please go on.”

Hermione’s blush had started to return as she remembered what they had been talking about, but she kept going. “Not too long after that, I heard Harry’s voice, as clearly as if he were in the same room. He said, “HERMIONE, I NEED YOU!” Then, my mother told me that my eyes flashed green and rolled up in my head for a second. I guess I fell back on the bed then, and I couldn’t see straight and my legs were quite wobbly. I convinced my mum to get me to a phone so I could call the Dursleys to see if he was okay, and my dad eventually found out that they had disconnected their telephone service just this morning. As we were deciding our next steps and my parents were trying to calm me down, I remember hearing a woman’s voice casting the Cruciatus Curse, and the next thing I knew, I was on my back on this couch. And, you were here for the rest of it,” she said with a slight grin.

“Very impressive, Miss Granger. You have a detailed memory, especially under the circumstances,” Albus said with a smile. “It appears that I am correct in two of my initial assumptions. First, I am certain you have created a binding magical contract by promising to Harry what you did with the emotions behind it that you did. Even though you said ‘we’ promise, it’s obvious that you really meant ‘I’ promise. And then, when you followed up with a promise to protect him at the Dursleys, I’m sure that confirmed it. That contract, in conjunction with the ‘soul-mate’ bond between you that has been building for almost 6 years now, has enabled the link between you to grow to the point that you can no longer ignore it. I assume that you have been somewhat uncharacteristically ‘emotional’ since the bond established itself today, am I correct?”

Both Mrs. Granger and Hermione nodded emphatically at this, and Dumbledore smiled knowingly. “Minerva and I independently sensed that you were extremely compatible with Harry the first time we saw you together, so I am not surprised at this turn of events. Secondly, Harry appears to be under attack by at least one female Death Eater, and I don’t think you’ll have too much trouble figuring out who is the prime suspect.”

Mr. Granger groaned. “Not…that…creature, the one you told us about just now, Albus? Lestrange, wasn’t that the name? She’s attacking Hermione? You have to -” His voice was very strained, and it was becoming obvious that he was about to say something that would not help the situation.

“And Harry, too, dear,” Mrs. Granger interjected before her husband had a chance to start demanding things. “From what I gathered from Albus’ story, Harry is getting the worst of it. I mean, he must be closer to the source, mustn’t he?”

“That is correct, Mrs. Granger,” Albus said, appreciating her instincts regarding her husband’s increasingly fragile emotional state and her deftness at nipping it in the bud. “Hermione, can you feel Harry’s mind right now? See if you can concentrate on the link that exists between the two of you. It is very important if you can tell us what Harry is feeling so we know how much time we have to find him before things get worse.”

“I’ll try, Professor,” Hermione said timidly, “but since I don’t know exactly what I am concentrating on, I’m not sure I will be able to. How do I know if I’m actually in contact?”

“Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said in a calm voice. “…don’t you think you recognize his voice by now after all these years?” Both the Granger women looked surprised, and then a smile slowly crossed both of their faces as they remembered their earlier discussion.

“Okay, Professor, now I know what to listen for…” Hermione said, as she closed her eyes and concentrated. Soon, she was saying, more to herself than anyone else, “Harry… Harry… I need to know where you are. Please, Harry, talk to me again… HARRY! PROFESSOR… HE’S AWAKE…JUST NOW! I CAN FEEL HIM.”

“Miss Granger, we are right here,” Dumbledore said with a wince. “I assure you, my hearing is quite adequate, even as old as I am. And, I daresay Crookshanks and your parents are also able to hear when you speak in normal tones, since we are all in the same room. Besides, you don’t want to overload the connection with him. I assume it is still forming and it can be somewhat fragile. Now, what is it Harry is feeling?”

“Sorry, Professor. I’ve just never done this before and it’s…well, you’ve probably heard from your staff and the students just how I get when I learn a new wizarding skill. It’s just so, exciting… Oh, there I go again,” she grinned. “Let’s see, now…” Hermione mused, closing her eyes and focusing once again on establishing the link with Harry. “…he’s still quite groggy, I assume from the two Cruciatus Curses he has received so close together. I can feel that he is still in some pain, which is understandable. He’s telling himself… not to do something again. Okay, he’s getting a bit more alert, and…calm. All of a sudden, his mind calmed down. Maybe he can sense me or something. What?…for some reason, he’s thinking of…Vincent Crabbe? That makes no sense. Why would he be thinking about him? Vincent Crabbe, with a baby head…and… Oh…now he’s listening, thinking about something… he’s a bit worried about what he’s hearing, but he’s still groggy, though. It’s hard to sort it all out….now he’s definitely feeling threatened by something…11 years old?…no, not my memory!…he’s being picked up…no, no, not in there again…I can’t go back in there….NO!... NO! HERMIONE!”

“STUPEFY!” Albus yelled, his wand out, and Hermione slumped back onto the couch, stunned into oblivion once again.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER?” Mr. Granger said, grabbing Albus’ wand arm. He immediately fell to the floor, stiff as a board. Mrs. Granger shrieked, reached as if to grab Albus’ robes, and she, too, joined her husband on the floor. Crookshanks, however, blinked his eyes and sat down next to his mistress, slowly rubbing his head against her limp hand as it lay on the edge of the sofa.

Chapter 5 – The Telling of the Story

(A/N. In this chapter, I am ‘borrowing’ some ideas from an essay by ‘Cindysphynx’ found at www.hp-lexicon.org, titled The Put-Outer and Magic on Privet Drive.)

“Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I must apologize,” Albus said to the two bodies lying on the floor. They were unable to move, but they could hear perfectly well and there was a fire in both their eyes. “I sometimes forget that you are not aware of certain aspects of the power of magical people, since I find myself thinking of you in association with your talented daughter. Let me explain what happened, while at the same time give you a belated crash course in the finer points of Muggle/Wizard interactions. First, let me assure you your daughter is fine. In fact, if I had not acted the way I did, when I did, I fear that she would NOT be fine at this moment. I regret that I could not let you know in advance, but I had little time to react. I had to stun Hermione to prevent her from being affected, even partially, by the memory charm I am sure was being directed at Harry at that very moment. I hope I didn’t adversely affect Harry by interrupting his bond in that manner, but I am confident I was successful in protecting your daughter. And, I need her powerful mind undamaged for us to prevail.”

“Now,” he said, “as to what happened to both of you. Magic folk, such as Harry, your daughter, and me, have some inherent, instinctual, protections. In fact, the manifestation of some of these protections is one way we have to detect witches and wizards born to non-magic folk like the two of you. To make a long story shorter, when you grabbed my wand arm, Mr. Granger, and you reached for my robes, Mrs. Granger, you were shocked by a spell called the Full Body Bind, normally invoked with the incantation “Petrificus Totalus”. Hermione was able to successfully use this spell (inappropriately, I might add) in her first year; and Harry has used it to protect her even more recently. There are no permanent side effects, and if I leave you to your own devices, you will be fully recovered in about an hour since you are non-magic folk. But, I would much prefer to release you more quickly, if you have calmed down sufficiently enough to not strike at me again. I’m sure your daughter would prefer you to be mobile when I revive her, and the quicker we can do this, the quicker I can tell you all what I think is happening. If you are ready, please blink your eyes and I’ll be glad to release you. Just remember, it is never a good idea to grab a witch or wizard in a threatening manner, and non-magic folk are especially vulnerable,” he finished, sounding very apologetic.

Both the Grangers slowly blinked their eyes, and Albus waved his wand over both of them. They got up fully recovered but a bit warily; however, the kind look on Albus’ face began to reassure them that things were as he had said.

“Good, good,” Dumbledore said heartily. “Now, without further delay, let’s tend to your daughter.” And with that, he said “Ennervate!” as he pointed his wand at the young woman on the couch.

“Headmaster…what happened?” Hermione said, slightly groggy once again. “I was in contact with Harry, and then he screamed my name, and then…YOU STUNNED ME?”

“Yes, Miss Granger. As I was just explaining to your parents, who were also a bit confused by my actions, I had no choice.” And, he proceeded to fill her in on what had just happened. When she heard that her parents had tried to attack her headmaster, she wasn’t quite successful in keeping a smile from showing up on her face. “Oh, I guess I haven’t ever told you about that, eh? Well, there hasn’t been a reason for me to bring it up until now,” she said, a bit sheepishly.

“Wait a minute, Headmaster!” she shouted, panic coming back into her voice. “I can’t feel the connection to Harry any more…HE’S NOT THERE! Is he…is he…he can’t be…NO!”

“MISS GRANGER!” Dumbledore cried, “PLEASE STAY WITH US! YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN NOW!” WE CANNOT HELP HARRY UNLESS YOU CONTROL YOURSELF!”

At these words, Hermione visibly shuddered, and then forced herself to calm down. The realization that she could harm Harry’s chances unless she restrained herself was enough to allow her to regain control. That is, until an unfamiliar sight outside the Granger home caught her eye. She looked through the window next to the sofa she was laying on, and then she pointed in disbelief as she screamed, “What happened to our neighborhood?”

They all looked out the large picture window, finally noticing that it was covered with a layer of ash and dust and had a large crack running through it. They saw a terrible scene. The nice neighborhood that the Grangers lived in was now completely different. Where there had been pleasant, well-kept homes and lawns there were burned out buildings, damaged streets with rusted car hulks here and there, and dying or dead vegetation. The darkened sky had a strange color to it, possibly because of the smoke that they saw coming from buildings in the distance. And, to top it all off, a bright new Dark Mark was visible, hovering over a home a few streets away. It was the forming of the Dark Mark that had drawn Hermione’s attention to the window in the first place.

“Well, that’s…about what I expected,” Albus mused. It was almost as if he was the only one in the room, holding a conversation with an unseen acquaintance. “Tom, don’t you remember that if you have to resort to bold moves based on the desperate circumstances you find yourself in, you have to be quite sure you know what you are doing. I think you have overestimated Bellatrix’s abilities, and also underestimated a few things, besides. For one, you forgot to adequately account for all of your opponent’s resources first! It appears you were able to make a few changes in the past five years, eh? Well, we’ll see what we can do about that! I am pretty sure you’ve bitten off a bit more than you can chew!”

“Headmaster…could you please be a little more open with us? What is happening? What has happened to Harry? Why is the Dark Mark in the air in broad daylight…in my neighborhood?” Hermione asked, completely confused. She was doing better than her parents, though, who now looked almost as stunned as they had when they were under the full body bind just moments before as they viewed the destruction outside their window.

“Miss Granger, anything I could say to you would be supposition at this point. Between the four of us, we may be able to put a reasonable scenario together, but, if what I fear has happened is accurate, we do have time before we must act. In fact, in one sense, we have all the time in the world. But, the longer we wait, the more complicated things may become. I’ll start right in with a few details about Harry James Potter, James and Lilly Evans Potter, Lord Voldemort, and the Dursleys that it is time that you knew in full. Please listen carefully.”

*

*

*

After Albus had explained the history of Harry, the Potters, and Voldemort, including telling them the full contents of the prophecy, there was, once again, silence in the room. As they considered that either Harry or Voldemort was destined to die at the hand of the other, they began to realize the gravity of the situation. Hermione had shed silent tears as she realized, once again, the love and sacrifice of James and Lilly that kept Harry…her Harry…protected from the Avada Kedavra curse that Halloween night so many years ago. She had heard bits and pieces of the story before, but to hear it sequentially and completely from the mouth of Albus Dumbledore was especially overwhelming.

Finally, her ordered mind noticed something out of place in what he said. “But sir, if you were able to establish those protections around Privet Drive, how is it that Bellatrix was apparently able to penetrate them and attack Harry?”

“Miss Granger, I promise I will award fifty points to Gryffindor at my earliest opportunity next term for your stellar analytical abilities. However, since I doubt that Hogwarts is actually the same place I left it at the moment, I will have to hold off on that for a while. Please remind me at the appropriate time, won’t you?” Albus chuckled. “As to the answer to your question, I fear that I know what happened. I always knew there were risks involved with establishing the protections I did, but I hoped that we would be able to come up with better solutions before they were ineffective. Apparently I was wrong. Be that as it may, I will ask you a question, Miss Granger. Are you aware of the function of this item?” he said, as he pulled a device out of his robes that looked something like a silver cigarette lighter.

“Hmm, I’m not sure…,”she paused for a moment, reviewing the magical devices she had read about in the library or heard mentioned in class. “Is it…a Put-Outer? That’s a device that can capture and release the energy from Muggle porch and street lights as needed. It is used by Aurors and others when they are conducting covert operations, among other uses,” she explained to her parents as if she were reading a catalog description. They were still absorbing all the shocking things they had seen, but they nodded their understanding.

“Very good, Miss Granger. Well said! For, you see, it is those ‘other uses’ that we are most interested in. One of the other uses of this specific device is to serve as means for establishing ancient magic protections. I have adapted this device to serve in this capacity. When I placed Harry with the Dursleys, I used this to establish a twelve-point ‘defense perimeter’ of sorts around their home. It also serves as a means of monitoring his activities. As a result, and as I told Harry a short time ago, ‘While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort’. The Put-Outer defines the limits of that protection. For one thing, the protections result in the Dursley home being undetectable by Wizarding folk unless they already know where it is. That is why I had to send a specific group of Aurors and others to pick up Harry from the house last year – they were the only ones who were already familiar with the Dursley’s location. The exception was Nymphadora, who had to be taken there blindfolded by Moody and Lupin or else she would have been unable to find the house. Unfortunately, that very incident probably started the chain of events that has led us to our current difficulty. You see, I had Alastor use the Put-Outer to transfer some of the protections to the Order Headquarters while Harry was there this last year.”

Dumbledore’s eyes crinkled as he realized that Hermione was having trouble keeping her hand down as if she were in class, wanting to bring up a point relevant to the discussion. “Yes, Miss Granger,” he said in his most professorial tone, “do you have something to add?”

“But Harry…I don’t think he considers Privet Drive his home any more, and probably hasn’t for a while, if he’s honest with himself!” she blurted out. The loopholes in the protections were becoming very obvious to her. “And, it seems that the protections are only effective against Voldemort, or did I not hear you correctly?” she continued. “Oh, and if the protections were weakened by Moody, I assume that a determined Death Eater, as long as it wasn’t Voldemort, could probably both locate their home and enter it from that time on, isn’t that right, sir?”

“Yes, that is, as usual, a brilliant summation, Miss Granger. Have you considered a career in the legal field? Your skills are developing nicely, I think.” Albus could not hide the pride in his voice as he complimented her. <To think, that a Muggle-born would be so powerful in both the mind and heart,> he thought to himself. <A perfect blend of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, bonded with a powerful blend of Gryffindor and Slytherin, and both of them as hard working and loyal as any Hufflepuff! The Wizarding World is surely blessed to have both of them among our ranks.>

He then, resignedly, responded to her analysis. “Yes, my dear. You are correct. We always knew that as Harry was exposed to the Wizarding World, including families like the Weasley’s, close friends such as yourself and young Mr. Weasley, and, we’d like to think, generally caring faculty at school (with one noticeable exception) he would begin to understand that how he was raised was not in any sense normal. As a result, we were hoping to transfer him to Order Headquarters as soon as possible this summer, so he would only have one more short stay left there next year and he would no longer have to return to that terrible excuse for a family.”

“Your other suspicion is also correct. When I cast the spells associated with the protections, I intentionally specified Voldemort as their focus. If I had expanded the protection to include all known Death Eaters, it would still not have worked well, since any unknown Death Eater or new recruit would be unaffected. I compromised on naming Tom as the focus of the wards, and I hoped that the other aspects of the spells, including the Undetectability protections, would be sufficient. As I have already told you, it appears I was incorrect. And, for that, I am very, very sorry. An old man like me makes too many mistakes, sometimes, especially when it comes to those we love.”

Hermione again realized just how, well, there was no other way to put it…exhausted her headmaster was. His battles against evil were taking a toll on him. She just hoped that he would be able to put things right this time.

“So, what are we going to do about this?” Mrs. Granger said, finally recovered enough from the shock to participate in the discussion. “Apparently, by the looks of things outside our window, and the state that the window itself is in, Voldemort has somehow changed time itself to favor his desired outcome. And, it has something to do with both Hermione and Harry. What can any of us do to get things back to the way they were?”

“Mrs. Granger, I am once again reminded from where your daughter gets her…direct approach.” Albus smiled. You are definitely not one to waste time on extraneous tasks. And, I, for one, agree with you. I would like to propose a plan that may be effective. I have been considering this since I heard what Hermione said when she was in contact with Harry’s mind previously. As I recall, she mentioned something about…eleven years old …Harry’s memory, and Vincent Crabbe with a baby face, before he was thrown into his old bed space at the Dursley home, is that correct?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, sir. That is pretty well what I saw, although it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Miss Granger, since you are still learning how to sort out mental images, I would like to fill you in on some information you are lacking that may help make some sense of what you saw,” he explained. “Recently, an inventory of the Department of Mysteries was completed. This was conducted as part of the investigation related to a certain unfortunate event there recently. We discovered that a time reverser device was missing from the Time Room. Miss Granger, you recently saw one of these devices in operation, including what happens when it is used incorrectly. Do you know to what I refer?” he asked.

“Do you mean that bell jar with the hummingbird in it, sir?” she replied. “The one that the Death Eater fell into and…and …his head changed to a baby head and back again? What does that have to do with Vincent Crabbe?”

“Not Vincent, but his father,” Dumbledore responded. “The Death Eater that encountered the time reverser device was, indeed, your fellow student’s father. He was partially exposed to a time reverser field, which is used for various research purposes. The field effect is limited to a relatively small volume, about the size of a cupboard, say. The time effect can also be set to send an item back in time if so desired. The time field you saw in action had been set to “fast repeat/no transport”, which makes an interesting display for visitors to the Time Room, especially when a bird egg is placed in the field. The bird will go through its entire life cycle over and over again and can be removed at any time with no harm to the bird. Mr. Crabbe, however, was not supposed to be introduced into the field in that manner. While he is no longer in possession of a baby’s head, St. Mungo’s personnel have still not been able to fully reverse the effects, and it may not be possible. However, it may also be that Mr. Crabbe’s mind isn’t that different than that of a young child to begin with, so there may only be so much we can do.”

“So, I assume the missing device has something to do with Harry’s capture?” Hermione stated, trying to putting these new facts together with what she already knew. “They’ve used it to send him back to…when he was eleven, right? But, why? Why would that make so much difference in what we see outside?” she asked, again not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

“To finally get to the point, Hermione,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle, “It appears that Tom, by transporting Harry back to start his Hogwarts career all over again, has made a change of some kind to the time line. This change has either kept Harry from being a factor in Tom’s rise to power, or, possibly, to have Harry somehow join forces with him. He has failed to defeat Harry on numerous occasions, so it appears he has decided to try to turn him instead. In any case, we need to find out what has changed, change it back if possible, and do this without interfering with any other aspect of the timeline we restore. As you are aware from your experiences with the time-turner during your third year, Miss Granger, magic folk that interfere with time have caused many terrible problems. You, of course, remember Minerva’s lecture on the subject, I presume?”

“A repeated series of redundant lectures is what they were, sir,” Hermione recalled, ruefully. “I thought I would never get her voice out of my head the whole time I had the turner. Whenever she saw me alone, it was, ‘Do not go anywhere near your other self when you are time-shifting…Witches have gone mad at the very sight of themselves…duels, terrible things…keep track of the time and place you are shifting at all costs…’ – Oh, yes, I remember, sir!”

“Good. Then I won’t have to repeat them,” he said, as he waited for her to catch on to what he had just said. As her eyes widened, he continued. “Fortunately, I have a modest ability to “multi-task” as the Muggle saying goes. So, while we have been having this stimulating conversation, I have also been considering the options we have. I have weighed the risks and possibilities, and I propose that Miss Granger go back in time to Hogwarts to rescue Harry.”

“WHAT?” Again, all three Grangers spoke at once. “NO, she can’t…I won’t allow…But, sir…?”

“One at a time, one at a time,” Albus raised both hands, trying to quiet the uproar. “Miss Granger, please go first and state all of your questions without interruption from ANY of us,” he said, pointedly. “I think I know what your parent’s concerns will be, and I hope to be able to answer them at the appropriate time if necessary. But, I think that your questions, taken as a group, will be more germane to our discussion at this time. Consider your questions for as long as you need to, but I’d like to hear what you are thinking.”

After a few minutes in deep thought, Hermione began to speak. “First, how will I get back in time? We don’t have a time reverser in the house that I know of. Second, if I do get back, how will I be able to be there the same time as my ‘younger’ self? I mean, two Hermione Grangers, five years apart in age, at Hogwarts at the same time are sure to cause tongues to wag, don’t you think? Won’t your ‘other self’ also be suspicious? Next, how do I explain things to a much younger Harry if I do see him? I’m not sure he’s going to accept my story of time travel and saving the world from corruption at that age. I’m in the middle of it, and I’m not even sure I believe it.” She said this last with a decidedly confused look on her face. Finally, how will I get the two of us back here in one piece, if I am successful in thwarting Tom’s plan?”

“Is that all for now, Miss Granger?” he said. When she nodded, he continued. “Since we have found ourselves woefully lacking in time reversers, I am proposing an alternative means of temporal transport, one that you are already familiar with. In my robe I have the very time turner you used during your third year. Minerva returned it to me after you were finished with it. I have always found it quite useful in my responsibilities as headmaster. I know how to modify it to operate it in the mode necessary to send you to where you need to go. As to the ‘two Hermione’ problem, while it does present a unique solution to a concern of mine at one time during your fourth year about certain, shall we say, feelings among a certain trio-,”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed and her lips became very thin as she realized what he was implying.

Dumbledore continued, deliberately ignoring her reaction. “-I agree that two of you would be hard to explain. Not to mention the impact to my poor staff having to teach TWO genius witches at once. Severus, for one, would be beside himself, if you were beside yourself, too.” Everyone groaned at this bad play on words. Albus looked a bit guilty, but continued. “So, I am proposing that you change your identity, with the assistance of some charms I will teach you. I will also give you an aging potion, for I think that the best way to accomplish this identity change is to move you ahead of your peers. So, by the power vested in me as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, and member of the Order of Merlin, First Class, I hereby certify that you have successfully completed your N.E.W.T. level course work with grades of ‘O’ in all subjects offered at Hogwarts, including Divination and Muggle Studies. Under the circumstances, I gave you practical credit for establishing a confirmed mind link with another wizard, and the three hundred and twenty percent grade in your Muggle Study finals during your third year is considered sufficient justification for passing that course. Congratulations, Miss Granger! Do not fret, my dear! I am confident these are the grades you would have received, so I do not feel the slightest guilt at this action. As a Headmaster, I am a substitute examiner at Hogwarts for all internationally accepted N.E.W.T. exams, you know!” He said this last because Hermione appeared to be still recovering from the shock of hearing her N.E.W.T. results, considering she had never taken the exams.

He continued. “At this time, since you are now, officially, an unemployed witch, I propose that you consider pursuing a career in education. I happen to know that there has been an unfilled opening at Hogwarts as an assistant professor to Professor Flitwick for many years. He has always looked for someone that is skilled in charms work to assist him in teaching some of the younger students who are struggling, and I think that you would be perfect at it. We have never filled the position previously, but it is high time to do so. Besides, this will also give you a chance to work with Ravenclaw House. I seem to recall that you were seriously considered for that house during your sorting?” Hermione nodded. “Good! Although I find it interesting that you ended up in Gryffindor. That must mean that you are braver than you are smart!” he said with a wink at Hermione’s parents. “That one fact may be the one thing that turns the tide of battle in our favor. I’ll say it once again; Tom has a tendency to underestimate his opposition.”

After a slight pause, he continued. “I will provide you with a letter of reference, along with an explanation, that you must give ONLY to my ‘younger self’ that will set things straight there. He…I will have means of verifying the message and the truth of your story that will be quite effective. I am certain that I…he…will also share the information with Minerva, in case my other self is otherwise occupied during your time there. But, you must not let anyone else know of these details. I’m sure you see the reason for that.” She nodded once again.

“Now, as to how to deal with Harry,” he resumed his instructions. “You must not! Until the time is right, you cannot reveal your true self to him. As you realized, at the age of eleven he will not be able to comprehend much, if anything, of what you could tell him. You are there strictly as an observer, although I dare say you may have to be actively involved in discreetly preventing additional damage to the timeline as you see it. Let your memory of those years be your guide, and, ask your headmaster for assistance as needed,” he said as he winked at her. “But, in Harry’s case, let your earlier self take care of that end of things. It looks like it has been working out quite well to this point, since you were already able to find each other in this timeline. Let the magic of your relationship have a chance to work out again. I am concerned, however, that your younger self may not have the same interactions with two young friends as she…you did the last time around, so it is just as imperative that you keep your earlier self alive, and at least somewhat happy. Since you know yourself the best, I’ll leave it to your judgment as to how much you share with your younger counterpart. With Harry, however, you must be extremely careful. Remember, if this works as planned, he will be eleven years old when you see him next. He may have some residual memories of the life he knew in this timeline, since there are spell interactions that can cause memory charms to not be fully effective, but he will still be the boy you met on a train your first year once again. Unless you really want to have him come back to us, and you, that much younger physically than you are, you have to let him age normally until he is back to near the age he was when you last saw him. At that time, the answer to your last question should be obvious, especially if you have been successful to that point. Remember the last time you used the turner with Harry? What happened at the end?”

Hermione thought for a moment. “Well, after we rescued Buckbeak and Sirius, we ran back to the hospital wing and…and waited for our ‘time-twinned selves’ to time-turn before we went to our beds. Then everything was back to “normal”, although I suppose Professor Snape would beg to differ!” She smiled fondly as she remembered the ‘hippogriff adventure’ she had shared with Harry that night.

“If all goes well,” said Dumbledore, “we will have a similar happy resolution to this situation. One thing that Tom tends to forget in his overconfidence is that time is rather resistant to change on a grand scale. This is especially true when the changes are in the past. Individual events can be changed with relatively small amounts of energy, as in the time turner you have used. But, the large changes we see outside this window cause serious stresses in the fabric of time. It might be easier for you to think of time, in this case, as a large piece of flexible steel that has been bent out of its natural shape. If the bending force is removed quickly, the steel will tend to restore itself to the way it was. Tom has introduced a large bending force in a brute force manner, so to speak. Your job is to counteract that force when you identify it, and let things go back to the way they were before. I am confident going forward with our plan on the assumption that Tom may have overstepped the limits of his power and knowledge with this scheme.”

“Can we speak up now, Albus?” Mr. and Mrs. Granger said after a short, private conversation. Up until that time, they had been listening intently to the exchange between Hermione and Dumbledore. “We feel we have a right to say something.”

“Of course you do,” Albus agreed. “Please say whatever you wish.”

“I’ll go ahead, because I have always been the calmer one in our marriage,” Mrs. Granger started. “My husband, especially when it comes to his little girl, lets his emotions rule his decisions when he speaks even though he knows he shouldn’t. Even when we were faced with the decision on her attending Hogwarts, he was the one that resisted and I was able to show him why we should let her go. And he…we, that is…have never really regretted that decision. As Hermione recently reminded us, if we had not made that choice, our daughter would never have turned out as she is, and both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds would be less because of it.” She turned to her daughter and continued. “Hermione, we want you to know, no matter what happens, we love you and we are very proud that you are a witch.”

For not the first time this day, Hermione could not hold back the tears caused by the depth of the love she shared with her parents. “Thanks, Mum and Dad. I love you, too, and I am proud you are my parents,” she said fervently as she hugged them tightly.

Mrs. Granger continued. “Hermione, I’ll make this quick. We know that, under the circumstances, you are the only one who can save Harry so he can save the world. After we heard the prophecy, we realized just how important and powerful of a wizard he is. If you can help him achieve this destiny, then we cannot stand in our way. We will be worried sick for as long as it takes until you return, but remember that we are waiting for you and Harry to return to us.”

“Funny you should mention that, Mrs. Granger,” said Albus, with a large smile forming on his face. “I just realized, based on my last experience with Hermione and the time turner that we won’t be waiting at all if things go according to our wishes.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Mr. Granger could not contain himself as hope rose in his heart for what he thought he was hearing. “How can that be?”

“Well, it ties into why I haven’t been in a big hurry to get started with this operation. Since Hermione will be going back in time soon to a known point, she will be entering a ‘time loop’ which has been created through the assumed actions of Tom and Bellatrix. If she is successful in repairing the damage, immediately after she leaves our timeline, we, if I am not mistaken, will see her return to this timeline after the alternate time loop ends. The four of us, if all goes well, will be the only ones who remember the series of events that we are experiencing now. It will be as if none of what you see outside actually happened.”

“So, Headmaster, when do we get started?” Hermione said; determination evident in her voice. “What can the three of us do to help you make the necessary preparations?”

Albus smiled as he saw the strength of resolve in all of their eyes. “Miss Granger, would you go to your trunk and bring me your potions equipment and ingredients? I will also need you to come up with a new name to go with your new identity, so I can include it on the notes and letter of recommendation I will be preparing for my other self. Make sure it is a name you will be comfortable using, since it will be yours for the next few years of subjective time. Mr. Granger, could you bring me some parchment and a quill from Hermione’s room, and Mrs. Granger, your daughter will need a complete set of clothing suited to a more adult body, if you understand what I mean.”

The next hour saw a flurry of activity in the Granger home, with a welcome surprise to start things off. As her father went up to her room, they heard him exclaim, “What a surprise…!” as her bedroom window closed. Before they could get too worried, Mr. Granger came downstairs, carrying a quill, some parchment, and…Hedwig, looking somewhat worse for wear. She hooted softly when she saw Hermione and Albus, and gratefully accepted a large drink of water from Mrs. Granger. “So, you made it back here, did you? Great, Harry won’t have to be worried about you!” said Hermione, relief evident in her voice.

First, Albus created an aging potion, similar to the one that Fred and George had created in an attempt to fool the age line surrounding the Goblet of Fire during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. As Hermione assisted him so she could learn how to make more as needed, he explained to her the dosage and frequency required to maintain the ten year age shift they had chosen for her. This would make her appear to be 26, almost 27. This was to allow her to assume her chosen cover as an assistant to Professor Flitwick more easily. Her cover story would be that she was Muggle-born from the United States, raised in England until she went back across the Atlantic to a small, very elite Canadian school that also taught to N.E.W.T. standards. This would limit the chance that anyone at Hogwarts would have known of the school and ask embarrassing questions. It would also explain her British accent, and Hermione knew enough French from her travels with her parents that she would make a passable resident of Canada.

Albus also taught her some simple charms to change her outward appearance to both match her new age and make her look less like a Granger, in case anyone started comparing. He also told her how to make these changes more permanent, but reversible, when she arrived at Hogwarts. With the help of her mother, Hermione decided she would be a much taller woman with straight black hair, blue eyes, and a more refined-looking nose. Her teeth were adjusted slightly in both coloration and size, causing her parents to marvel at the possibilities in a dental practice. The major body changes that would occur along with her age change, would make her existing clothing both impractical and uncomfortable, as her still 16-year old form had not quite finished developing in some crucial areas. As her headmaster attempted to explain this, his face turned red and Mrs. Granger had to come to his rescue. Hermione understood her explanation quite readily. When they were ready to make the changes, she excused herself to the downstairs bathroom with the appropriate garments to maintain propriety.

Finally, Miss Harmony June Puckle, candidate for the Assistant Charms Professorship at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood in the hall next to her trunk, a slightly-modified Time Turner around her neck. As a 16-year old Hermione, she had been beautiful in a quiet way. However, the 26-year old Harmony was more striking in her appearance. As she looked in a mirror, she thought “I could get used to this. Cho, eat your heart out!”

As Albus was putting the finishing touches on his letter of recommendation and note to himself, Mrs. Granger commented, “Now, how did you come up with that name, dear?”

“Well, I’ve always been tired of people mispronouncing my first name, but I didn’t want to have to change my initials since I have engraved my personal items with HJ. Practical me, I never added a third initial since I didn’t know what it would be when I grew up,” she said with a grin. “Harmony, obviously, is a mixture of Harry and Hermione in honor of the subject of my quest, and it is easy for people to remember. June is close enough to Jane and lets me keep my middle initial, not to mention ‘Harmony June’ sounds so…American, and Puckle is because…well, I don’t know, really. It just sort of came to me out of the blue.” (The three “true adults” in the room also noticed that her new initials were now exactly the same as Harry’s, but they didn’t let on.)

“Ready, Miss…Puckle?” Albus said. “According to my calculations,” he said, once again consulting his unique pocket watch, “you need to set the coarse adjustment lever I have attached to the time turner to a year offset of -5. Then, on the fine adjustment dial, advance the setting to the 31st of August at 9:00 AM to get you to the right day and time. This will be much easier and more accurate than trying to turn it the appropriate number of times as you used to have to do for small displacements. When you verify that you have arrived at the correct time, take the Knight Bus from here to the Leaky Cauldron. I’m sure you have enough sickles of the appropriate date in your trunk to pay the fare. When you get to London, go to Gringotts with this key, and withdraw the funds you think you will need to tide you over before your receive your first pay from your new position. This is my personal account, so I trust you’ll be reasonable in your expenditures,” he chuckled slightly. “The goblins will not be suspicious, as they know I have a history of using others to handle my financial affairs. Next, go to the Diagon Alley Post Office and send an owl to me at Hogwarts with this letter and note attached. I have sealed them in a way that my earlier self will recognize, and only he...I…whatever, will be able to open them. Rent a room for the night at the Leaky Cauldron. If all goes well, you will receive a return letter straightaway with your appointment to the Assistant Charms Professorship, and a pass to allow you to travel on the Hogwarts Express with the students the next morning. You know what to do from there, I take it?”

“Well, yes and no,” ‘Harmony’ grinned. “Since you have implied strongly that I will have to ‘play it by ear’, I don’t have a lot to go on.” But, yes, I get the general idea. Go back in time, keep an eye on Harry, protect both of my selves, ruin Voldemort’s evil plot, and help Harry save the world from the powers of darkness. No problem at all,” she smiled cheekily. Her inherent Gryffindor bravery was showing through, and she was actually beginning to look forward to the adventure she was about to undertake.

Mr. Granger couldn’t wait any longer. “Sweetheart, be careful. We love you, and we hope to see you, and Harry, back in one piece immediately if Albus is correct.” Tears were in both of the Granger’s eyes, and they gave their daughter a big hug, first as a group, and then individually, with kisses all around. During this time, Albus’ eyes were glistening also, and he found himself examining a rather interesting hair that was sticking out of Crookshanks’ ear.

They went outside on the front porch, since it wouldn’t do to have a stranger show up in the middle of the Granger living room uninvited. As they looked out on the eerily quiet, battle-scarred neighborhood, ‘Miss Puckle’ said, “Normally I’d say take care of Crookshanks and Hedwig for me, but I guess that isn’t necessary since I won’t be gone long at all, will I?”, as she set the dial on the Time Turner to the correct indications. See you in a flash!” And, firmly grasping the handle of her trunk, she released the catch on the side of the time turner and it began to spin rapidly.

Chapter 6 – The Leaky Cauldron

(A/N- I am indebted to the creators of the floor plans of Privet Drive located at http://www.hp-lexicon.org/atlas/britain/atlas-b-privet.html as a valuable guide in keeping my story consistent.)

“Thank you, Tom, for watching my trunk when I went to Gringotts and the Owl Post office, and for taking it up to my room,” Harmony said pleasantly to the old bartender at the Leaky Cauldron. Here’s a little something for your trouble.” His eyes lit up as she handed him a Galleon out of the money she had just retrieved from the Headmaster’s personal vault.

“Oh, Miss Puckle, I couldn’t…it was my pleasure to be of service to such a fine looking young witch as yourself,” he said with a toothless grin. “’Sides, I never get more than a few Sickles from anyone for haulin’ trunks. You are much too gen’rous. Save your money! I’m sure you’ll need it for your stay at Hogwarts to hold you until you get your first pay. Oh, don’t worry, Miss. I have a feeling you’ll get the job. Filius and Albus will be lucky to have you on staff.”

“Tom, I must insist. I have always felt that the Wizarding World treats service people and others like you very poorly, and I’m just doing my part to try to make some changes. I just hope you’re right about the position. But, somehow, I just know that I’ll be hired! I’ve felt good about it ever since I heard about the opportunity from someone who has connections there. Hogwarts’ reputation is quite well established, even across the Atlantic, so I went to rather desperate lengths to get here and apply.” <And that’s putting it mildly!> Hermione thought to herself. I just hope Headmaster Dumbledore accepts my references and letter of recommendation. Tom, what can you tell me about him? Is he as powerful as everyone says?”

Tom’s eyes lit up as he said, “Oh, yes, Miss! You’re young enough that you don’t remember back in the old days, when G…ggg… Grindelwald was in power. Sorry, Miss, even now it is hard for me to say his full name! Now that he has been defeated these many years, I still remember the terror of that time. It was horrible how much the Muggles were affected by what he was doing, even though they thought it was those fellows, ‘Hister’ and ‘Moosie’ something, and some emperor bloke overseas, wasn’t it, that was behind that big war of theirs. What did they call it, the excess powers of World War 3 or 4 or something…?”

The Muggle history student in her had to chuckle as she realized how separated the Wizarding and Muggle worlds really were. To have World War II, and the Axis of Hitler, Mussolini, and Hirohito mis-remembered, even forgotten, by a member of the Wizarding world who was there at the time was very telling. <Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.> Hermione thought to herself, as she remembered the quote from George Santayana. <That’s another thing I’d like to change. The Wizarding World has many things it could learn from and teach Muggles, even without violating the Secrecy laws. I wonder if this is part of why Voldemort was able to get established again so easily. Wizards may have thought that Grindelwald was more of a threat to Muggles, so they didn’t consider that they were affected, too. Then, when Voldemort came along, they may have thought that they were safe, because he was mainly going after Muggles and Muggle-borns, so everyone else would just have to lay low for a while until things settled down.> She paused, as she realized that Tom was still talking while she had been thinking.

“-so Albus tracked them down and defeated old Grindy and his followers. Back in 1945, it was. I remember it like it was yesterday. It took two attacks, but finally they all were destroyed. Muggles were told that it was some kind of new weapon that had killed all those people over there, but actually the Muggles were killed by a very nasty dark curse that was tied to Grindy. When Dumbledore attacked, first Grindy’s right hand witch and her group, and then, a few days later, Grindy himself, the curse they had bound to their life force was released. Albus couldn’t find a way to stop it, although he tried so hard to come up with another way in those few days between the two attacks. Caused quite the big flashes, di’n’t it! I know Albus blamed himself for all those Muggle deaths for years afterwards, but considering how many had died already and how many more would have died if Grindy hadn’t been stopped, eventually he figger’d what he done was necessary. Sometimes you have to make unpleasant decisions to bring about a greater good, eh, Miss? And now, since You-Know-Who’s disappeared these 10 years, t’ings are sure a lot nicer in the world, wouldn’t you say, Miss? Why, jus’ a month or so ago, c’n you believe who was in this very place? HARRY POTTER, tha’s who! He’s starting Hogwarts this year! Surely even you Canadians know of him, I’d wager! The Savior of the Wizarding World – you know, The Boy Who Lived! I even got to shake his hand! Didn’t wash my hand for a w…come to think of it, I haven’t washed it yet. But, I don’ wash much as a rule...” Tom began muttering to himself, obviously off in his own memories.

Tom’s mention of Voldemort’s supposed defeat and Harry brought a strange look to her eyes and forcefully reminded her where and WHEN she was. <If only it were true that Voldemort was gone!> Hermione mused to herself. <Poor Harry! I know he hates being thought of that way. He just wants to be Harry Potter, and he can’t! But, if I can help it, we’ll be done with this whole thing before I’m finished here!> she resolved once again to herself.

Tom left her small room, muttering and cackling softly to himself about the Galleon he clutched in his hands as he left. Hermione went over to the warmly crackling fireplace and spoke distinctly. “Harmony June Puckle, renting room 12 at the Leaky Cauldron for the night,” as she had been instructed so as to let the Floo Network know where she could be reached. “Now, I just have to wait for word from Hogwarts. I just hope it’s soon!” she said out loud, as she looked in the mirror to check her new appearance. She had scarcely done so when she heard a small ‘pop’ coming from the fireplace. In the flames, she saw a slightly younger, less worried-looking version of a very familiar face, smiling at her.

“Miss …er…Puckle, I presume?” Headmaster Dumbledore said. “I assume you have just registered with the Floo Network. I’ve been trying to get through ever since I read your…shall we say, interesting letter of recommendation and reference. I must admit, I was not expecting to have a candidate for the assistant charms opening with such ‘personal’ references!” he chuckled. “May I come all the way to your room, my dear? Are you able to receive visitors?”

“Surely, sir.” Hermione said, relief washing over her at the sight and sound of her former Headmaster, hopefully soon to be employer. She backed away from the opening to allow him plenty of space to enter. As his form appeared in the fireplace in a swirl of flame, ash, and smoke, she could no longer control herself. “You can’t possibly imagine how GOOD it is to see you, sir. I have been so worried that you would not believe my story when you read it; much less do anything else for me! Oh, Headmaster, do you think it will work? What can we do to protect Harry? Can you explain to me just exactly what is going on? I’m still not quite sure of all the facts myself and I really think I need to…”

“Miss Puckle, please calm down.” Albus said, kindly as ever as he entered the room, carrying a large package. “Rest assured that there is no way I could NOT believe you after receiving the message you sent me. My future self has made certain of that. He included information that only I…we…he…Oh, bother! I’m seeing that the English language is not up to the task of describing time travel! Anyway, the message you sent served as its own validation, so I assure you that your story, although fanciful at first glance, is quite believable to me. And, having a few minutes to consider what I gathered about your plan, I understand why I came up with it in the future under the circumstances, and that I will do my best to help you in your mission to protect young Mr. Potter while he is with us at Hogwarts. But first, I need to ask for your cooperation. To speed things up, and at the suggestion of my future self in the letter, I have brought along my Pensieve to understand what has…will…oh, never mind!...happen to you in your future time line. For this to be effective, I will need to have your assistance in removing certain memories from your mind, reviewing them in the Pensieve, and then returning them to you. I will not do this unless you agree to it, and you will have complete control over which memories we review if there are certain embarrassing scenes you would prefer that I not see. However, if you would like me to ‘explain what is going on’, I think this is the best way to do so.”

Hermione readily agreed, and for the next few hours, they reviewed the past 5 plus years of her life at Hogwarts, particularly focusing on her interactions with Harry over the years. She found, as time went on, that she was both more and less comfortable with having her memories on display to him. She was careful to filter out personal, embarrassing moments related to typical ‘girl’s night’ activities and discussions, especially the ones where Harry’s name was mentioned, but the reason for her discomfiture was something else. Since she could be a detached observer while reviewing her thoughts in the Pensieve, it became obvious, even to her, just how much Harry meant to her and how much her feelings had grown over time. <I really do love him…> she thought. <And now, Professor Dumbledore knows it, too! What will he think about one of his faculty members being hopelessly in love with a first-year student? Will that keep him from offering me the position? Might as well face the music right off>.

“Sir, with what you have just seen, will you still take me on as an assistant professor of Charms? From what I understand of the position, one of my responsibilities will be to work with first-year Muggle-borns and students who have no real exposure to magic until they received their letters, and help get them caught up. As such, I assume I will be working closely with both Harry and …my…myself, too, I suppose. I see what you mean, sir, about the language problem!” she grinned, continuing. “- and you know how I feel about him. Will this be a problem from your view, sir?” she asked, with a hint of pleading in her voice. The success of the whole operation rested on his answer.

“Miss Puckle, or, should I say, Hermione, I am confident that you will be able to remain on task during your assignment here.. Remember, the young child you will be seeing tomorrow is not yet the charming young man he has…will… grow into as we have just seen from your memories. You may find that he won’t be quite as loveable, at least in a romantic way, as you may think. And, having read the description of what will happen as a result of Tom’s little power trip through time, I hope that you won’t have reason to forget that you DO love him, even when things may go differently than they did the first time around. Just focus on your teaching assignments, and I dare say that things will proceed normally. I am more concerned, however, as is my future self, about your younger incarnation. After thinking about our trip through your memories just now, I have a feeling that young Miss Hermione Jane Granger, not quite 12 years old as she arrives at Hogwarts tomorrow evening, will have a much rougher and lonelier go of it this time around if my suspicions hold true. So, you must focus on keeping her not only happy and out of the library from time to time, but alive! Ah...I see; you are starting to understand my concerns!” he said, as a recently reviewed scene of a troll in a bathroom came to her mind.

“Professor, do you really think that, whatever Voldemort has planned for Harry in this timeline, it will keep him from convincing Ron to help save me this coming Halloween?”, Hermione said with fear visible on her face. “That would mean…somehow…that he will start early to change Harry’s nature. How do you suppose…?”

“Miss Puckle, I assure you that any supposition at this time is premature. All we can do is observe Harry as closely as we can, monitor certain key events that happen and review them against your memories of what should happen, and do our best to keep the two time lines the same without making things worse. For example, I will have to change my plans concerning a small package that Hagrid has retrieved for me… I’ll have to take care of the details later. With the credentials and recommendations you have provided, I am certain that your talents will be an asset to our efforts. As you know, I will also be bringing Minerva into our confidence also. Her skills and abilities, not to mention her position at Hogwarts, will also be critical for us to have on our side.”

Hermione relaxed. “Oh, thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I am beginning to have a little hope, now. While I don’t understand all that is happening, I am confident that the three of us will be able to thwart Voldemort, and maybe even keep me alive while we are doing it!”

“There are a few matters I need to discuss with you, Miss Puckle. First, in case you were wondering, I am confident that I will be able to refer to you properly. Since I only know of Miss Granger as a student on a list of first-year students starting tomorrow, I am certain that I will be able to always refer to you in this form as Miss Puckle. But, there is something that you will have to be careful of when you are with other wizards and witches, not to mention students. Just now, you referred to Tom as Voldemort. While I already have a reputation as a ‘barmy old codger’ in some circles, partially because I insist on using his adopted name instead of that ‘Dark Lord’ and ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’ nonsense, I don’t think it would be wise for you to get that reputation. While I am happy that you refer to him in this manner, I ask that you refrain from doing so. It might make some people suspicious. I wish more of us were as comfortable with that name as you are. As I always say, ‘Fear of a name-”

“-increases fear of the thing itself.” Hermione finished, smiling. “Yes, Headmaster. There are a small number of us in the future that share your feelings. However, as I explained to my parents before I left, only you, Remus Lupin, Harry, and I say it regularly even now.”

“Well, that brings me to my next concerns. Miss Puckle, we need to decide how you will address me. I know that you tend to refer to me as Headmaster, but you have used my Professor title, also. Since you, as Miss Puckle, have never known of me as your Professor, please, in public settings, at least, refer to me as Headmaster, as is appropriate with members of my staff. In private, you can feel free to refer to me by my first name, since you are, technically, an adult in your present form. I may refer to you as Hermione from time to time also. Finally, need I remind you that you must be careful about accidentally letting slip references to historical events that you remember, but haven’t happened yet? You just now mentioned Remus, and from what we just saw in your mind, I understand that he will be teaching DADA during Harry’s third year in your timeline. But, as Miss Puckle, you don’t know this, and you surely won’t know anything else about him when you do finally meet.” Please focus on remembering your unique situation, even to the point of not speaking casually without carefully considering what you might be revealing to others.”

Hermione nodded, as she realized how easy it would be to say something in passing that would be inappropriate to the time line. “Thanks for the reminders, sir. I’ll do my best, and if I do slip, I hope I will be able to think fast enough to come up with a reasonable explanation. Prevarication and misdirection have never been strong suits of mine, however. When I say something I shouldn’t have, I have real trouble covering up for it. I remember two occasions during fifth year, once when I wasn’t thinking of Ron’s feelings when I thought Harry was prefect, and once when I unknowingly insulted Miss Lovegood’s father’s publication, I was very flustered both times and couldn’t recover gracefully.”

“Yes, well, we all have to learn new skills from time to time, don’t we?” he said with a wry chuckle. “Miss Puckle, in all seriousness, I do have one question that I must ask. It relates to the scenes from your third year that we saw just now. Am I to understand that young Sirius Black will escape from Azkaban Prison and, with you and Harry helping, get away from those who would have him destroyed? I must admit that I could scarcely believe what my eyes were seeing. Sirius is innocent, I presume? Please tell me more about it.”

And with that, they settled in for a nice, long conversation, just a headmaster and his newest staff member. If anyone would have listened in, the story they would have heard would be unthinkable. Fortunately, they were able to talk undisturbed until Dumbledore noticed the clock.

“Miss Puckle, I expect my staff to be on board the Hogwarts Express before 10:00 AM tomorrow to assist with any early arrivals. I will also need to make the necessary introductions with regards to our new assistant. Based on the lateness of the hour, I recommend you get some rest in preparation.” He walked over to the fireplace, and, as he was reaching for the Floo powder, he said, “Never fear, Hermione. I am confident that we have a great opportunity here to right some wrongs that may be in the offing. Tom was always an overconfident student, and now that I am aware of his plans to a certain degree, we have so much the advantage over him.” He threw the powder in the flames, said good-bye to Hermione, and stated clearly “Headmaster’s office” as he disappeared in a swirl and flash of green.

Hermione waved as he was leaving, and then retired to her bed. “Tomorrow will be quite a day” she thought sleepily, and she drifted off to sleep.

*********

Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning, slightly disoriented with a nagging headache. He also noticed that his scar was tingling slightly, not painfully in any way, but it just felt different. In all of his years of memories related to his scar, he had never felt anything like this before. <Wha…what am I doing back here again? I am certain I went to sleep last night in the upstairs bedroom. Why would I want to come back to the cupboard? Wait a minute; I’m going to Hogwarts today! Where are my clothes? Where’s Hedwig? Oh, yeah, I guess they’d be upstairs, wouldn’t they? Strange, my being down here and all. I must have been sleepwalking last night and forgot where I slept. Oh, well, I’d better get going!>

He quietly opened the door to the cupboard, easing out into the darkened hallway and turning immediately to go up the stairs. His headache was still bothering him, and he had a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something important. <Must be getting too excited about today if I’m sleepwalking like that. I better be careful, or else Uncle Vernon may not take me to the station this morning.> He carefully stepped over the squeaky stair so he wouldn’t wake his aunt and uncle.

Just as he thought he was going to make it, he heard a bellow from the door adjacent to his. “BOY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF BED AT THIS UNGODLY HOUR! GET BACK IN YOUR ROOM NOW! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, ANYWAY?”

Harry mumbled something about having a headache and needing some water to go along with his aspirin. Not hearing a response to this, he closed the door to his room. <That was close! I just wish I knew WHY I was down there, anyway…well, no matter, I’m wide awake now. Better check my list and finish packing for school. Maybe that will help me remember what I keep on thinking I’m forgetting.>

As he started to work, though checking his Hogwarts list and making sure Hedwig was secure in her cage, his increasing excitement started getting the better of him as he realized that he was actually leaving this house to learn how to be a Wizard! Each day since Hagrid had found him on his birthday, he could scarcely believe what had happened. Ever since that day, he had regularly checked the ticket from Hagrid each day to make sure it was still there, and that it still said Platform 9 3/4 on it. <Uncle Vernon sure laughed at me last night when he saw that on the ticket…strange, why does last night seem so long ago? If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think it’s been a very long time since I went to bed. I have really got to get a grip!> he told himself, as he continued to pace the floor waiting for the Dursleys to get up.

Events moved pretty rapidly from then on, though, and before he knew it, he was almost at Hogwarts. He had already met an entire family of wizards, the Weasley’s, got to know one of their boys, Ron, learned about Every Flavor Beans and Chocolate Frogs; met a few of the other students, including one girl that seemed rather bossy (Ron didn’t seem to like her at all); almost got in a fight with some other boys until Ron’s rat bit one on the finger, and had just finished getting his robes on when the train came to a stop. He heard Hagrid’s voice calling for the first year students to come over to him, and he was happy to hear Hagrid still remembered his name.

He got into a boat with the bossy girl, <Hermione, right? Now, why is that name so familiar? I don’t remember going to school in Surrey with any girls named Hermione!>, the toadless boy <…Neville- he seems like a nice bloke, maybe he’ll end up being my best friend or something…>, and Ron, and before he knew it, they were walking up the stairs to the castle.

(A/N – If you want to speculate on just who Grindelwald could represent historically, here’s a possible candidate… http://www.deathcamps.org/reinhard/heydrich.html. Note that he was accused of being a “half-blood” himself…and was considered a very efficient killer, being charged by Eichmann with organizing the details of the “Final Solution.”. The only problem would be that Heydrich was assasinated in 1942, not the 1945 date listed for Grindelwald. Hmmm…maybe he moved on to take another identity by that time?)

Chapter 7 – The Sorting Hat Redux

(A/N – Bellatrix’s ‘slight change’ is revealed. Hopefully it won’t be too much of a surprise. By the way, from now on, I am intentionally skimming over things that are already covered in JKR’s writings to this point. I am only going to be including the differences in this time loop as necessary, or else I will be writing for years. Besides, I’m sure you’re already familiar with the original plot!)

“Now, form a line,” a stern looking witch was saying, “and follow me.” As they entered the hall, Harry heard that bossy girl say something about some history book she had read. <How boring…she must be a know-it-all, too. Well, I’ll try to stay clear of her as much as I can. She’s probably deadly dull. I wonder if one of those…houses they told us about has one for brainy types. I agree with Ron, just as long as I’m not in with her, I’ll be happy. Now that Slytherin house sounds…interesting.> His scar twinged pleasantly again, and he had a warm feeling come over him. <Maybe I’ll get to be in that one.>

He was now staring at a funny looking hat on a stool. Before too long, the hat was actually singing something about each of the houses. <Slytherin is for cunning folk, that doesn’t sound too bad. Cunning means skilled and ingenious, doesn’t it? I wonder why Ron didn’t want to be in that house?>

By this time, they had started the sorting and, one by one, the first year students were joining their classmates at the four tables in the hall. Harry noticed that the Slytherin table seemed to have students with the best looking robes; and, with a few noticeable exceptions like that Bulstrode person <Millicent? I would have sworn she was a bloke…>they seemed to be better looking, at least to his eyes. Most of them seemed to have sleek, blonde hair, very well barbered or styled, although there were a few with dark hair like his but none quite as messy. He noticed that Malfoy boy just sitting down after being sorted. He remembered him from Madam Malkin’s and on the train. <I’ll bet he’s someone good for me to get to know. He looks pretty popular over there. I’d better be a little nicer to him. I was rude on the train today when I didn’t shake his hand. Maybe I’ll get a chance to apologize.>

“Potter, Harry!” Professor McGonagall’s voice interrupted his thoughts. <Well, here goes! Wonder how this works?> he thought as the hat was placed on his head.

“Hmm...” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult…very difficult…wait a minute, what’s this? Slytherin? I definitely see that you have Slytherin here in your head…almost as strong as that Malfoy fellow I just sent over there. Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, boy, no doubt about that – okay with you? Fine, then, let’s get you into SLYTHERIN!”

As the hat shouted this to the hall and he ran off to join his new friends, his scar no longer tingling at all, Harry failed to notice the shocked look that appeared on two people in particular at the head table. Both the Headmaster and a dark haired young witch at the end of the table appeared ready to jump up to demand that the hat try again, but then, realization crossed both of their faces and they sat down, exchanging knowing looks at each other.

However, there were two at the table who were also reacting somewhat out of character. Professor Snape, head of Slytherin House, and Professor Quirrell, DADA teacher, were very interested in what had just happened. Snape, in particular, had, for the first time since he had heard that Harry Potter was attending Hogwarts, a slight smile on his face as he realized the implications of Harry’s house assignment. And Quirrell, seated next to him wearing a new turban, had an expression that changed from one of fear and revulsion to one of utter satisfaction, as if he were of two minds on the subject of Harry Potter’s sorting.

Harry, meanwhile, had taken a seat at the Slytherin Table that was right next to Draco Malfoy. “So, Potter, what was it you were saying on the train about being able to tell who the wrong sort are for yourself?” the pale blond-headed boy smirked. “Well, either you’re the wrong sort yourself, or you might want to reconsider what you said.”

Harry smiled apologetically, and said “I’m really sorry, Draco. I realized after I said that to you that I was wrong in not shaking your hand when you offered it to me. Can we just start over? I mean, today has been a busy day and I haven’t been myself since I got up this morning. I’m sure there are lots of things that I don’t know about the Wizarding World with my background, and I’d like to ask you to help me learn what I need to know. Deal?” he finished, with a grin, extending his hand in friendship.

Draco paused for a moment, not quite sure how to take this change of attitude. Then, the true Slytherin that he was raised to be came out, and he positively glowed. “Sure, Potter. I’ll be glad to help you learn what you need to know. What is it that the Muggles say? ‘Show you the ropes…”

At those words, Harry’s mind flashed to a thought of him being bound by ropes coming out of what looked like a wand, but it quickly disappeared. “Thanks, Malfoy. Now, why don’t you introduce me to your friends here?”

Draco did just that, and Harry met the friends that Draco had grown up with and played with his whole life. “Potter, meet Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Vincent Crabbe.”

Once again, as he heard that unfamiliar name, a fleeting image of a large man with a baby’s head entered Harry’s consciousness, and was gone. <Why is it that I keep on seeing weird things when I hear these stranger’s names? I don’t even know any of them, but it’s almost as if I DO, somehow. I’ll have to ask Draco later – maybe it is part of being a Wizard.>

By this time, Harry noticed that the person he assumed was the Headmaster had finished saying some strange words, and the next thing he knew, there was food piled on his plate and on the table. <Wonder if those words he said were a magic spell? I’d love to be able to learn that one! I bet that Weasley boy would, too. He seemed to be quite hungry on the train. Wait a minute, wonder where he ended up – I wasn’t paying too much attention after I came over here.>

He looked around, and saw a red-headed boy looking anxiously back at him from the Gryffindor table. When Ron noticed that Harry was looking at him, he quickly averted his eyes, but Harry could have sworn there was a flash of sadness in them as he did so. Ron immediately involved himself in a conversation with three other red-headed boys at the table, and Harry assumed that they must be the three brothers Ron had mentioned on the train. <Oh, well, I guess he’ll be happy there in Gryffindor with his brothers. That’s probably for the best. By the state of their robes, it looks like they’re all a bit poorer than my housemates here, and it might make Ron upset if he found out how much money I have.>

Before he focused his attentions on the feast spread before him, he noticed that the bossy girl he had shared a boat with coming to the castle was seated by herself, eyes wide at the feast before her, but quite alone. <Wonder what she did to scare everyone off?>, he thought, for she was the only one he could see at the Gryffindor table that wasn’t involved in a conversation with their neighbors. <Probably started quoting something from that history book she mentioned before and everyone must have thought she was mental! Funny, I almost feel sorry for her for some reason. I do know what it is like to be ignored at school, don’t I? Well, she’ll just have to figure it out on her own, I guess.>

Any further thoughts of that nature were interrupted as he was startled by the appearance of a scary-looking ghost, wearing blood-stained robes, sitting on the other side of Malfoy. For some reason, Harry thought that Draco was quite unhappy with this turn of events, and Harry realized that he probably would have felt the same way if the situation were reversed. “That’s the Bloody Baron!” he heard someone at his table whisper behind him. “He’s the Slytherin House Ghost!” Harry noticed that there were ghosts at each of the house tables, and the one at the Gryffindor table seemed to be able to pull his head off partially. <What a strange place this is! Nearly headless and blood-covered ghosts, food magically appearing, talking hats…wait till I tell Dudley! Maybe I can give him some nightmares!>

When Harry and the rest of the students had finished their desserts, the Headmaster (Dumbledore, he remembered from the Chocolate Frog Card he saw on the train) stood up to make some announcements. They didn’t make a lot of sense to him, something about a forest being forbidden to all pupils, to not use magic in the halls <Well, since I don’t know any yet, I guess I’m safe!>, Harry thought with a grin), and then something about Quidditch trials <Oh, that’s what Ron was going on about on the train. Hmm, wonder what that’s like? But, it’s only for second year students so I guess I’ll forget about it for now.>

Dumbledore then said something that seemed like it was a last minute change to his prepared remarks. “I would like the faculty and staff to be aware that the note I sent to you all concerning the restrictions on the right-hand side of the third-floor corridor has been rescinded. Recent events have come to light that make those precautions unnecessary, as other arrangements have already been made.”

Professor Quirrell at the head table seemed to take special notice of this announcement, which fact was, in turn, noticed by Snape seated next to him.

Dumbledore continued. “I have one more announcement to make before we adjourn. Many of you returning students, especially the older boys, I see, have noticed an addition to our staff this year. At the last minute, Hogwarts has been most fortunate indeed to engage the services of Miss Harmony June Puckle. Miss Puckle has recently completed advanced studies at a private wizarding school in Canada, and is well-qualified to be the Assistant Professor of Charms. She will be working with our esteemed Professor Filius Flitwick and will also assist him in his duties as head of Ravenclaw house. Miss Puckle’s area of expertise is working with first-year Muggle-born students who have a slight disadvantage coming to Hogwarts, having not been exposed to magic up to this point. Any first-year students, especially Muggle-born ones, who feel that you could use some extra tutoring, please sign up with Miss Puckle during your first scheduled Charms lesson or notify your Head of House. As for you older male students, especially those who are having trouble keeping their eyes in their sockets, may I remind you that teacher/student relationships of any kind are not allowed at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore added this last with a twinkle in his eye.

It was true, many of the sixth and most of the seventh year male students at all four tables were obviously interested in the strikingly pretty new teacher. A few scattered comments began to be heard above the crowd noise, such as “…why do the First years have all the luck…”, “I’d sure like to have HER teach me a few things I don’t know…” and “I know why she’s teaching charms…she’s already charmed me!”

Harmony, whose hearing was quite fine, thank you, began to blush slightly as she heard some of the more suggestive comments coming from the Slytherin table in particular. She, however, was interested in only one occupant of that table, a small, skinny, dark-haired boy with a scar on his forehead. <Oh, Harry!>, she thought with a stifled groan, <why did you have to end up in Slytherin? What did they do to you to make this happen? I’ve got to talk to Albus as soon as possible so we can get to the bottom of this.>

Harry, who had seen the new teacher when she stood up during her introduction, began to notice that she seemed to be looking at him for quite a while, as was Professor Quirrell whom he had already met at the Leaky Cauldron. He returned her gaze, and his scar twinged strongly. “Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head.

“What’s wrong, Potter?” Draco said to him. “Did you eat so much that you got a headache?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine.” Harry replied.

Professor Dumbledore then started leading the student body in what he said was the School Song, and then dismissed them to their respective dormitories. Harry followed along with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle as they went with their Prefect to the Slytherin Common Room. When they got to the entrance, the prefect told them the password (“Pure-blood, as always!”) and escorted the first years to their room. There, he met another first year boy named Blaise Zabini, who seemed to not care for the fact he was in the same room with Draco, especially.

Harry went to sleep quite rapidly, and found himself having a different dream than he had ever had before. In it, Professor Quirrell’s turban appeared to change into a snake-like creature with glowing red eyes, and then it called him by name. “Harry,” it hissed, “welcome to your destiny! My home has always been in Slytherin, and now yours is also. You will be greater than you can ever imagine, now that you have joined with us.” Harry, for the first time since he had been sorted into Slytherin, felt slightly uneasy at this. He had never cared too much for snakes, and now he was being welcomed by one as a brother. Before he could dwell on this too much, he fell into a deeper sleep and stayed that way until morning.

Chapter 8 – The Philosopher’s Stone

(A/N – As my beta noticed when he saw the title of this chapter, I am using the “correct” terminology. Call me a purist, but “Sorcerer’s Stone” always irked me, especially when I heard the reason for the change in the US market. So, I’ve taken the liberty to change it back to the way I think it should have been all along.)

“Headmaster Dumbledore, sir! Could I have a word with you please?” Miss Puckle’s voice was noticeably agitated when Albus heard it in his private quarters.

“Surely, Miss Puckle. Please come in,” he said, waving his hand at the door to open it. “I was expecting you this morning, although I must admit, not quite this early.” Harmony entered, and it was obvious from her appearance that she had not slept well after the events of the previous evening. “Did you find your quarters acceptable, Miss Puckle? Did you have a good rest last night in preparation for your first day of teaching? Is there something you would like the house elves to do for you to make things more pleasant?” He said these last two questions with more than a trace of irony in his voice.

“No, sir, everything is fine…with my quarters, that is. I never realized how many parts of Hogwarts I don’t know about. To think, that the teachers have such nice accommodations set aside for them. I guess I never really thought about it while a student here.”

“But, Miss Puckle, I don’t know what you are saying. You’ve never been a student here, now have you?” He gestured slightly at the snoring portraits in the entryway, and she immediately realized her gaffe. “Please, let’s come into my private study, where we can discuss what is on your mind.”

Harmony followed him into a small room off to the side of the main office, where he quickly closed the door and muttered something under his breath. She immediately noticed that the only portrait in this room was one of – “Isn’t that…Godric Gryffindor, sir?

“Yes, Miss Puckle, you are correct. I felt that my ancestor’s portrait would be the safest one to put up in this room, where I conduct business of a more private nature. As you may have fathomed, not all the portrait occupants in my outer office are of equal, shall we say - trustworthiness and prudence? Sometimes I think the Muggle saying about ‘if the walls could talk…’ came about because of rumors associated with the Headmaster’s office, not to mention the castle itself. And, before you ask why I don’t do something about it, I’ll just say that sometimes it is useful to have known ‘spies’ around. They can be used to spread certain information quickly, for one thing. Don’t worry about it, though. You have come here early enough that I am certain that none of my predecessors was awake enough to catch on. Just be careful next time that you are in the entryway. Now, although I am certain I already know the answer to this question, what is it you would like to discuss? Godric, I’m sure, will be very interested in what you have to say.”

“Well, that’s just it, sir…I mean, Albus” Harmony said with a slightly guilty grin. “I’ve been up all night thinking about this. Harry is supposed to be in Gryffindor. I mean, he basically IS Gryffindor, at least in the time I am familiar with. During our second year, he was able to pull Godric’s sword out of the sorting hat when he was in the Chamber of Secrets, and used it to kill Salazar Slytherin’s pet basilisk! Harry told me that you said to him that only a true Gryffindor could do that!” Godric’s portrait, who had started to say something at her mention of the chamber and the basilisk, nodded in agreement at this. “But yet, the sorting hat put him in Slytherin! How can that be?”

“Why don’t we end our speculation quickly and go directly to the source?” Albus said, reaching for the Sorting Hat on his desk. “Since I was certain we would be having this conversation today, I brought the hat in here last night before I retired. Go ahead, put it on. I am sure he is curious about you, too, and we can address both issues at once.”

Harmony put the hat on her head gingerly. “Miss Granger!” the hat said in her ear. Didn’t I just sort you into Gryffindor yesterday? I remember, you could have gone into Ravenclaw, but I saw that you ARE braver than you are intelligent, so I put you in Gryffindor instead. What’s this…? Strange, you’re not a first year any more, are you? Let’s see… no, I’d say you have finished your fifth year now, but you look much older than that. Could you tell me what is happening? Let me review your thoughts for a minute, if you don’t mind.”

Harmony felt something like a hand gently touching her forehead. It was warm and pleasant, and she immediately relaxed. After a few moments, she heard the hat speak once again to her. “Oho…someone has been making some changes, have they, and you’ve come to march into the battle to right the wrongs! Seems like I was right about you, at least…no, aging potions don’t fool me. I can see your mind, you know… Sorry, there’s not much I can do about it. The sorting has happened, he’s in Slytherin now, and you’ll just have to make do. Although, I’m certain that your Mr. Potter was sorted correctly yesterday. Slytherin was…in his head… nearly as strong as I’ve ever seen it. I remember a few other students that were so obviously Slytherins…Grindelwald, Tom Riddle, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa and Bellatrix Black, and that young Malfoy boy yesterday. Potter was almost of the same mind as…but wait, now that I think about it, I have felt that before…that was Bellatrix’s mind I felt yesterday. No wonder I put him in Slytherin!”

The hat fell silent, and Harmony handed it to Dumbledore. “Well, that explains a lot,” she said to his expectant face. “Apparently, Bellatrix ‘infected’ Harry somehow with her mind, at least just enough to make the sorting hat put him in Slytherin. The hat also knows who I am now, although he was confused until he reviewed my thoughts. Sir, I assume that you aren’t bothered by the hat knowing our secret, is that correct?”

“Let’s just say that I have no problem keeping that information ‘under my hat’ ”, he twinkled. Godric’s old hat is probably even more trustworthy than Godric’s portrait, simply because the hat only leaves my office once a year and isn’t very social the rest of the time. But, back to business. So, it appears that my suppositions were correct, although I wasn’t quite sure how they were going to accomplish the switch. As was mentioned in the note you brought with you from the future, Harry has a tendency towards Slytherin House. He is a bit of a rule-breaker, for example, and is also very cunning and ingenious as the need arises. These are all characteristics common to Slytherin. I understand that, in your reality, Harry openly chose Gryffindor when he was sorted. This time, though, with Bellatrix’s influence in his head, he did not make the same choice. She must have adjusted his thoughts just enough to have him not fight when the choice of Slytherin was presented to him. Be that as it may, we have to adapt to this situation, and I feel I need to remind you of one thing. Being sorted into Slytherin is, by itself, not a bad thing. While you have personally had bad experiences with members of that house, I assure you that many fine, upstanding witches and wizards have passed through the doors of the Slytherin Common Room, and have been proud to wear the green and silver robes of that house. And, conversely, not all evil wizards came from Slytherin. For example, there was a certain young Marauder from Gryffindor who you are aware of that proves the point. It is, as always, the choices people make that determine who they will be.”

Harmony still wasn’t too sure about this, regardless of the example of Peter Pettigrew that Albus had just mentioned. Her experiences with Slytherin students during her time at Hogwarts were, on the whole, quite unpleasant. Part of that was caused by her status as a Mudblood, but they seemed to be a rather vicious and cunning lot generally. But, as she thought more, she realized that wasn’t completely true. She knew that there were a few Slytherins who were not actively involved in attacking the other houses. Blaise Zabini, for one, seemed to be a quiet, decent fellow the times she had talked to him in the double classes they shared over the years. He always seemed to distance himself from Draco whenever he had the chance, although she knew he probably shared a room with him, being from the same year. <That poor boy,> she thought, <having to share a room with the Ferret, Goyle, Crabbe…and now, with Harry! Hmm, maybe I’ll have to get to know Mr. Zabini a little more. He might be a good source of information.>

“Yes, sir,” she agreed to what Dumbledore had just said. “In fact, I just realized that we do have a way to keep tabs on Harry. Young Mr. Zabini, who was also sorted into Slytherin yesterday, must be sharing a room with him, am I correct?” Albus nodded, and she continued. “Well, then, when the Slytherin first-years have their first class with me, I’ll arrange a meeting with Blaise. In my time, he is a decent fellow, and I’d like to make sure that stays true in this reality, also.”

Dumbledore’s smile widened. “Very good, …Harmony. You are already starting to see how we can use our unique knowledge to make this work to our advantage. If you think about it, we have another source in Slytherin House to keep an eye on Harry. If we all continue to work together, I’m sure we will have additional opportunities to counteract what has changed. In fact, I have come to the realization that the new assistant professor of charms, Miss Puckle, is in need of a regular meeting with the Headmaster and Assistant Headmistress to assist her in understanding her responsibilities and to develop her teaching skills. This meeting needs to be… shall we say, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, before breakfast? Minerva needs to be involved as soon as possible, so I will notify her and Filius of the schedule change.”

“Thanks, Headmaster. That will do nicely. I do have one question for you before I go, though.” Harmony had noticed that it was approaching time for the students to come to breakfast, and she wanted to check on Harry’s well-being after his first night with the Slytherins.

“What is it, Miss Puckle?” Albus said.

Harmony then asked, “Last night at the feast, you mentioned that the third-floor corridor was no longer off-limits. I assume this means that you have hidden the Philosopher’s Stone elsewhere, then?”

“Actually, you are correct, Miss Puckle. I have changed my plans based on what I now know would have been a horrendous turn of events if I didn’t. Temporarily, at least, I have put the stone in safekeeping in this office, until such time as I will be able to meet with Nicholas and Pernelle and explain the situation to them. I am confident they will be able to see the danger to the world if the stone were allowed to fall in the wrong hands, and will agree to the necessary actions. Now, Harmony, I want you to listen to me before you finish the line of thinking I can see you are working on. Yes, you are absolutely correct. There was no reason that I could not have had this talk with the Flamels early in the school year in your timeline, and kept the stone safe in my office until then. Harry, Ron, and you would have never needed to go through all of the dangers and threats of your first year if I had acted so then. But, if you think about it, you’ll know exactly why I put you through all this, as a trio, mind you. Ah, I see you are starting to understand. What is it you would like to say? I will understand fully if you might be a little upset.”

“UPSET… WHY, YOU ALMOST GOT US KILLED! ALL THREE OF US!” she yelled, struggling to regain control. “We barely got past Fluffy with our heads attached to our bodies, and both Ron and Harry almost died in the Devil’s snare until Harry reminded me that I could make a fire, and then I had to fly on that broom when I still wasn’t all that sure of myself in the air, and then Ron getting attacked by the white queen and knocked out! What if I had miscalculated the Potions puzzle? Would we have actually been poisoned? How could you do that to us…to Harry? I thought you wanted to take care of him!” she cried, her anger barely restrained.

But, as she saw Dumbledore’s expression as she listed off the dangers of the challenge, she realized that he was also aware of what he had planned to do…or had done already in her timeline, and why he had made that choice.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and said, “So, you had to give us a test, did you? I remember wondering afterwards why our abilities seemed almost perfectly matched with the seven challenges of those chambers. Harry figured out how to get past Hagrid’s Fluffy, and then I, with Harry’s help, took care of Professor Sprout’s plant. Harry had the Seeker skills to get past Flitwick’s charmed keys, and Ron is one of the few students at Hogwarts who could have defeated McGonagall’s chessboard. Then, if Quirrell hadn’t already been so kind as to take care of it for us, Harry and Ron would have known how to get past his troll based on a little experience on Halloween,” she smiled. “I, of course, was able to figure out Snape’s potion puzzle, which you had obviously set up so that there was only enough potion for one person to proceed, and you made sure that Harry was aware of the Mirror of Erised’s properties well before he faced it.” By this time, Hermione’s anger had mostly dissipated, having been replaced with a sense of respect for Dumbledore’s skills in planning a test of this nature.

“Just one thing, Miss Puckle, which you need to know to ease your mind before you go to breakfast.” Dumbledore said as they walked towards the door. “Severus was never going to make any poison for that challenge. Instead, I had asked him to fill those three bottles with a powerful sleeping draught, containing (as you might have guessed) asphodel and wormwood, that would have kept anyone drinking them from proceeding until an antidote was provided. I want you to rest assured, that I DO trust Severus – to always be Severus. In fact, this is another reason that I am confident in the outcome. As I started to mention before, Severus, as head of Slytherin house, will be another way we can monitor and protect Harry’s well-being.” Hermione’s face relaxed quickly from she had first heard Snape’s name. “The only real threat to Harry,” Albus continued, “would have been what he found in the last chamber, and that would be bad enough, I must admit. Why do you think I planned on having Hagrid accidentally ‘let slip’ how to get past Fluffy? Remember Hagrid, as big as he is, is much more than he seems. I would trust him with my life, and Harry’s, at any time.”

Hermione smiled, since she had always had a special place in her heart for Harry’s biggest friend. “Thank you, Professor, for explaining what you have this morning. This makes me feel a lot better, especially knowing that a certain person will no longer have a chance to carry out his plans for the Philosopher’s Stone. I assume on Wednesday we will be discussing how to deal with that situation?” As he nodded, she said, as she stepped on the spiral staircase, “I’ll see you and Professor McGonagall Wednesday morning, then. I’m looking forward to my instruction, sir.”

Harmony rushed to the Great Hall, and barely caught herself before she sat at the Gryffindor table. She quickly pretended to have dropped something to cover her blunder, and continued on to her seat at the head table. Fortunately, few students had arrived yet, having not yet adjusted their internal clocks to the Hogwarts dining schedule. She knew that as the year progressed, there would be more early risers trying to get breakfast in before starting a busy day of classes.

She had just sat down to her breakfast, (which, she noticed, was no different than what the students were served – <Well, now I know,> she chuckled, remembering the various theories over the years as to what special food the teachers got to eat,) picked up her free copy of the Daily Prophet, which was personalized across the top with the name “Asst. Professor Puckle”, and started in to read and eat. Before long she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a very sad sight indeed. Coming towards the Gryffindor table was a frightened, bushy-brown-haired little girl with noticeably large front teeth, walking all alone. Her eyes were puffy and still slightly wet, and the sleeves of her robe were damp with tears. As more students were starting to arrive, Miss Puckle noticed that a few fingers were being pointed in her direction, and not only from the Slytherin table. Some of the older Gryffindor girls were whispering to each other, too, as Hermione sat down by herself, her face staring directly into her plate.

<Uh, oh…> Harmony said to herself. <I wonder what I did last night in the Common Room to make everyone treat me this way? Oh, dear, I look quite the sight! I forgot how insecure I was back then. How did I ever survive that first year?>. As she asked the question, she already knew the answer. <Harry and Ron won’t be there for me this time, will they? Ron’s off with his brothers and Harry is in a different house now. I remember now, that first night away from my parents was terrible, and I was wondering if I would ever fit in. That was when I decided to just buckle down and concentrate on my studies. If I remember right, I was quite the little busybody for a while, trying to keep Harry from getting in trouble during flying practice and with that obvious trap of a wizard’s duel where we met Fluffy…what was it I said? ‘We could have all been killed – or worse, expelled!’>, she thought with a wry grin on her face. <And then, that Halloween day after Charms when Ron just had to open his big mouth and say out loud the truth that I had been avoiding all along, ‘It’s no wonder no one can stand her – she’s a nightmare, honestly.’> Harmony noticed that she was starting to mist up a little at that memory, which was still quite painful even now. <But, things worked out for the best then, didn’t they? As for now, though, I’m going to have to see what I can do for myself.>

Miss Puckle stood up, grabbed what she knew would be her favorite Honeydukes chocolate-covered pastry from the stack at the head table, and walked down towards her younger self at the Gryffindor table. The eyes of the many male students who were already getting into a habit of staring at the pretty professor were joined by those of adults and other students as she sat down next to Miss Granger. “Hello, my dear. Would you like to try one of these? They’re my favorite and I just bet you’ll like them, too.” Harmony smiled her warmest smile as she handed Hermione the treat.

Hermione let out a muffled sob and said, as politely as she could, “Thank you so much, Miss…Puckle, is it? I’m not very hungry right now.”

“Oh, tosh!” Harmony said. “Eat it, it will help. I know! Besides, if you aren’t hungry, why did you come down to breakfast? Just take a bite, Miss…Granger, is it? You’ll be amazed at how much better you feel!”

Hermione, still bravely trying to choke back her tears, reached out, took the pastry, and broke off a piece. Harmony watched as Hermione nibbled on it, and saw the surprise on the little girl’s face as the chocolate began to work. “You see,” Harmony smiled, “didn’t I tell you? I have found that chocolate can do wonders when you are feeling low. Now, why the tears, child? Please, tell me what’s wrong while you finish that pastry. This is no way to start your career at Hogwarts!” she said, turning Hermione’s shoulders until they were facing each other. “No first-year student of mine will be upset on their first day. They need to wait until there is something to be upset about, which will happen when they get my Charms homework assignments!”

Hermione slowly grinned back at her, as she had just heard something she was familiar with. “Homework? Ooooh! I love studying, Miss Puckle. I’m just so…so…nervous about … all of these new things. Ghosts with nearly-severed heads, and magical ceilings, and people in paintings talking to me, and sharing a room with other girls…I’ve never had to share a room before, you know, and somebody, I think her name’s Lavender, snores so loudly I can’t sleep, and they all seem to know each other and I don’t know anybody, and…and –” The tears were starting to come back full force again, as Hermione’s emotional dam burst.

Harmony reached out and brought the crying girl into a big hug. “Hush, now…I know, it’s quite a shock, especially for someone who hasn’t grown up in the Wizarding World. I remember quite well what it was like.”

Hermione looked up at her, surprise on her face. “Y-y-you mean, you were…are… Muggle-born like me? But, you’re so…pret – I mean, you’re so…so nice to me and all –”

Harmony looked at her closely. “Has someone been saying something uncomplimentary about your looks, dear?” As Hermione, nodding, let out a small sob, Miss Puckle said “Never you mind about that. I’ll have you know that I looked just like you when I was your age, an unknown Muggle-born witch going to a school where no one knew me, and by Christmas of my fourth year I was turning more than a few heads, I assure you! You have your whole, exciting life to look forward to, Hermione. Please don’t worry about the things you cannot change, but focus on what you can do and I promise the rest will come in its own time. You will grow up, of that you can be sure.”

Hermione took another bite of the chocolate, and between that and the impromptu pep talk from Miss Puckle, she was starting to calm down once again. While they were talking, Hermione’s class schedule had appeared at her plate, and Harmony pointed it out to her. “Miss Granger, let’s see what classes you are taking. Maybe I can give you a few pointers to help you get started.”

When Headmaster Dumbledore entered the room shortly thereafter and sat down, he saw a wonderful sight. At the Gryffindor table, he watched his newest assistant professor and a brown-haired first-year student happily chatting away, discussing classes, schedules, studying strategies, and homework. He muttered to himself, “Very good, Miss Puckle, looks like you’re settling in to your assignment quite nicely. Miss Granger will be glad to have you for a friend, I’d wager.” To Minerva, who had joined him at the table, he said in a normal voice, “Could you please pass the kippers, Professor? They look particularly delicious today.”

*******

Time passed at Hogwarts pretty much without incident until around Halloween. Miss Puckle did settle in nicely, both as an assistant charms professor and as a friend to the friendless. Filius, for one, noticed a marked improvement in the results from his first charms assignment, especially among his Muggle-born first-year students. The one notable exception was among the students of Slytherin house, who had decided as a group that anyone who was helping Mudbloods wasn’t going to be helping them. As a result, Harmony was unable to work as closely as she would have liked with either Blaise Zabini or Harry, although she realized that was probably for the best.

Soon, Harmony received a special assignment from Dumbledore to track all first-year students’ progress, especially those who had not been raised among wizards. This gave her a reason to get regular reports from all the faculty members about Harry’s schooling, and, as far as she could tell - his well-being.

Severus, as predicted, became a wonderful source of information about his star pupil. During the regular meetings of the Hogwarts faculty, he was quite willing to tell everyone how his new prodigy was doing. One day, early in the term, he said, “Mark my words, Miss Puckle - Potter is a genius at potions. He even does better than young Mister Malfoy, who has been exposed to potion making his entire life! What a team they make! They’re going to make Slytherin House proud both this year and on through O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, I am sure. I’d like to enter them as a team in the next All-Europe potion making competition for their age group. I’m sure they will earn top marks!”

<Hmmm,> Harmony thought to herself, <I just knew that Harry had it in him to do well at potions. All it took was for Snape to have him in his house, not threatening him every day, and he doesn’t have any problem with the work. Also, since Snape isn’t taking points away from him every time he breathes wrong, both Gryffindor and Slytherin are doing much better in the house competition. Just wait until I get back to the right time. I’m going to have to let my version of Dumbledore know about this.>

The younger Miss Granger, too, was settling into her new life at Hogwarts without Ron and Harry in it (although she obviously didn’t know what she was missing). The first breakthrough came when Miss Puckle introduced both herself and Miss Granger to Madame Pince, the librarian, and Hermione was quite happy from that point on. Madame Pince, with all her airs of stuffiness and stern behavior, recognized the love of learning and the love of books in the young girl’s eyes. She became another close friend for Hermione, although she’d never admit it. Before too long, she had trusted Hermione to help her at the checkout desk and with the critical task of returning books to their proper place on the shelves. Of course, this did nothing to help Hermione’s reputation as a bookish snob with no social life, but it did serve the purpose of keeping her both happy and safe as Miss Puckle had been instructed. She had a plan to get her out of the library, also, but it would have to develop over time.

Before anyone could believe it, Halloween morning had come upon them. During their regular pre-breakfast meetings, Albus, Minerva, and Harmony had agreed that they would let the Voldemort/Quirrell symbiosis continue without interference for now. They wanted Voldemort to continue under the assumption that the Philosopher’s Stone, while not hidden beneath the trap door as originally planned, was still at Hogwarts. So, Dumbledore had “accidentally” leaked via the portrait network that the stone was possibly hidden in the Astronomy tower, and since everyone was expected to be at the feast that night, Quirrell would have a great opportunity to use his troll diversion. The truth was that Dumbledore had met with the Flamels soon after his first meeting with Hermione, and they had agreed to have the stone destroyed. “Actually,” Dumbledore reported, “I think they were relieved when I proposed it to them. They understood how dangerous it would be for anyone, especially a resurrected Lord Voldemort, to have access to the elixir of life.”

As a result, they had focused their planning on helping young Hermione survive any threats from a troll that they were expecting to make an appearance that evening. They were hoping to do this without having Voldemort get suspicious that things were not going according to plan. They were not yet sure if he had been told, somehow, of the changes that had happened, but they had to act as if he had been until they could find out.

In their plans for that evening, Miss Puckle was assigned to be the Harry/Ron surrogate if needed, and keep her younger self alive. As Harmony had suspected, Ron had little to no friendship with Hermione in Gryffindor Tower now that Harry was not there to serve as a bridge between the two.

In fact, when Miss Puckle just happened to mention Ron’s name in passing during a conversation one day, Hermione was quite vocal in her feelings. “That… that…BOY! He and his twin brothers drive me crazy! They’re always disrupting classes and playing pranks on each other. What’s worse, though, are Ron’s atrocious table manners. He can never stop eating long enough to get out a complete sentence without spraying someone with food crumbs. And, when he’s not arguing with someone, all he talks about is some Quidditch team of his, or how he’s beaten everyone in the House at Wizard’s chess! Not to mention that he always makes rude comments whenever I answer a question in any of our classes. No, Miss Puckle, I don’t think he’s very nice at all! Percy isn’t too bad, being a prefect and all, but I don’t want anything to do with the rest of the family. I’ve heard that they have a younger sister coming here next year. I hope she’s nicer than the boys!”

Hermione was even less interested in Harry, if that were possible. “Oh, yes, of course I know who you are talking about. Harry Potter, right? I read about him before I even got to Hogwarts. He’s in all the books about modern wizards, now isn’t he? ‘The Boy Who Lived’, you know. I think he’s the boy who needs a haircut, more like. I talked to him on the train coming here, but no, I pretty much stay away from him. He spends most of his time with those other Slytherins, like that awful Malfoy boy, and they don’t seem to like me much.”

That evening, as Quirrell entered the Great Hall with his dramatic announcement of ‘a troll in the dungeons’, Harmony slipped out the back door. She had already seen Ron do his part in Charms earlier that day by upsetting Hermione after the Wingardium Leviosa incident, so she knew that the young girl had gone off to have a good cry in the bathroom. When the troll shuffled its way into the same room as expected, Miss Puckle was right behind it, hidden with a disillusionment charm. As Hermione started to panic upon seeing the hideous creature coming her way, she heard an eerily familiar voice in her head, as if she were talking to herself. “Hermione, calm down. You know what to do; you just did the spell perfectly today.” Hermione raised her wand, performed a textbook “swish and flick”, followed by a perfectly enunciated “Wingardium Leviosa!, just as they had practiced together many times in their extra “Muggle-born” classes. As the troll swung his club over his head, he was confused when he brought his hand down and there was nothing in it. He looked up to see his club falling right on his head. Hermione was standing there, wand drawn and quite speechless, as McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell came in, right on cue. Harmony, still hidden under the charm, put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. <So, I guess I can take care of myself, after all, given a little guidance and encouragement! But, I still wish Harry and Ron would have been here!>

Something else happened then that Harmony wasn’t expecting. “Miss Granger, please explain yourself!” Professor McGonagall barked. “What are you doing here, you silly girl! You could have been killed! Why weren’t you in your dormitory?”

“I’m sorry, Professor McGonagall, I didn’t know. I was here in the bathroom and I didn’t hear any warning. The troll just came in the door, and I started to panic, but then I remembered the Wingardium Leviosa spell I practiced today with Miss Puckle, and, as you can see, it did the job!”

“Well, Miss Granger, not many first years could take on a full-grown mountain troll by themselves. I’m impressed. I feel that I have no choice but to award 10 points to Gryffindor. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go.”

*********

Harry, of course, was quite busy with his own life. Since he wasn’t allowed to play on the house Quidditch team until his second year, (having never been seen chasing after a Rememberall thrown by Malfoy in a different time) he was quite content to ride the school brooms as much as possible during flying practice. He also got pretty good at wheedling some extra time out of Madam Hooch, especially on weekends. He was as talented as ever with flying, but instead of being ‘the youngest seeker in a century’, he watched excitedly from the Slytherin grandstands as his team slaughtered Gryffindor 250 -10 in the first match of the year. Gryffindor’s seeker, a clumsy third year that Harmony didn’t remember, was quite pathetic, unable to keep his broom going in the direction he wanted, much less keep up with Terence Higgs. The score would have been higher in Slytherin’s favor, but some of the team was laughing so hard at the ineptitude of the Gryffindor seeker that they couldn’t keep their eyes on the Quaffle. This allowed Angelina to score their only goal, and Higgs caught the snitch soon after. Wood had actually blocked as many goal attempts as he let in, but he was unable to stop the tide by himself. George and Fred Weasley, as active as they were hitting bludgers, weren’t able to stop the scoring onslaught either.

Snape was nearly unbearable in the next faculty meeting. “Well, Minerva, if today’s trend continues, that will be…how many years in a row that Slytherin has won the Quidditch cup? Sometimes I forget…it has been so long, you know! With Higgs leaving after this year, I hear that young Mr. Potter has a lot of potential as either a Seeker or a Beater. I know that Malfoy will probably want to play also, but I’m sure the two of them will work it out before next year. They are such good friends, now – never see one without the other, it seems. Strange, how different Harry is than his father. I would have never guessed it was possible.”

The rest of their first year went by, rather uneventfully, except for one major and one minor incident near the end of the second term. First, Professor Quirrell (or what was left of him), who had been suffering from a mysterious, progressively wasting illness, was found dead by Hagrid on a path into the Forbidden Forest after he turned up missing one morning. By the evidence, including a very smelly, shredded, empty turban, it appeared that he had stumbled across Fluffy and come out the loser in the encounter. (Hagrid had released Fluffy into the forest when his services as a guard were no longer needed.)

When Albus, Minerva, and Harmony discussed this turn of events, they felt that it was an appropriate end to Professor Quirrell’s torment. “His body would have succumbed eventually to the quite slow and painful decaying process he was undergoing that was caused by Voldemort’s possession, so at least this was quicker.” Dumbledore said, with a touch of regret in his voice. “The end result will be the same, though. Tom will most likely flee to the forests of Albania to regroup, as you told us he did in your past, Hermione, and will have to find another way to regain his strength.”

There was one minor change from Hermione’s memories – it was related to the House Cup points totals. Since Harry was no longer losing lots of points for Gryffindor as a result of Snape’s bias (or a nighttime excursion associated with a dragon egg that didn’t happen this time around) Gryffindor ended up winning the House Cup by a large margin, even after the Quidditch Cup results were factored in. Many of the points over the year were attributed to one Muggle-born, bushy brown-haired witch, who had impressed all of her teachers with her innate abilities in charms, transfiguration, and even potions. As a result, she started to become accepted among her peers in the Gryffindor house, and was seen socializing with them more and more frequently.

Finally, it came time for the students to leave for the trip to Platform 9 3/4 and summer break. “You must come and stay in Wiltshire with me this summer,” said Draco Malfoy, “I’ll send an owl after my father makes the arrangements. I’ll take you to see Stonehenge, and all the other magical sites around our home,” he said to Harry as they waited for the guard to let them pass through the barrier.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “That would be more fun then staying with my aunt and uncle, that’s for sure. I’m not sure I’ll be able to come, though. I’ll let you know when I hear from you.”

Truth be told, Harry felt uneasy at the thought of spending so much time with the Malfoys. True, he was a dorm mate of Draco’s, and he was sure that all of Slytherin House thought of them as best mates, Harry wasn’t sure that was true any more. He had spent an entire school year getting to know Draco, and wasn’t sure he liked what he had discovered. “There’s… something different about him, that’s for sure. Sometimes he can be quite mean to people, especially the Muggle-born students, for no reason that I can see. I’m sure that’s not right. Funny, sometimes I look at ‘Little Master Malfoy’ and I just want to punch him or something; like we’re actually enemies and we’ve just been pretending all along.”

As Harry walked towards the Dursleys and his return to Privet Drive for the summer, he failed to notice that he was being watched by another student being greeted by her dentist parents. Hermione had a bit of a wistful expression on her face as she watched him being yelled at by Uncle Vernon for some thing or another as they walked to the car park. “That poor boy,” she observed, “looks like his summer’s not going to be very pleasant. I wish there was something I could do for him. He really isn’t all that bad of a person the more I have gotten to know him, even if he is in Slytherin. Maybe I’ll try to get to know him a little better when I get back to Hogwarts in a few months,” she concluded with a smile. “Miss Puckle thought it would be a good idea for me to be friends with students in the other houses instead of spending so much time in the library, so I’ll start with him.”

*****End of YEAR ONE****

Chapter 9 – A Threat Negated

“Happy birthday to me…happy birthday to me…”

Harry was sitting on the garden bench in the back yard of the Dursley’s home at Privet Drive. What had the potential to be a great summer between his first and second year at Hogwarts had rapidly gone downhill. Harry was in a pretty bad mood, especially considering it was his birthday. <My last birthday, now that was something to remember, wasn’t it? A giant comes and tells me that I am a wizard! Wish something like that would happen again! But no, I have to disappear just so Vernon can kiss up to some rich builder and his wife.>

He thought back on what had gone wrong. Soon after he arrived at Number 4 at the beginning of the summer holiday, he had received two owls within minutes of each other (which fact made Uncle Vernon almost blow a blood vessel in his neck, Harry thought with a snort) and the order that he opened them proved to be, in Harry’s current estimation, his downfall. The first owl was from Hogwarts, and it was carrying a letter…from the Headmaster? He opened it first, due mainly to his surprise at receiving a letter from such an unexpected source.

My Dear Mr. Potter,

I hope you had a safe trip back to your family. I also hope you are having a good summer break, although I do understand your unique circumstances. I hope to not make it any more difficult for you, but I ask that you not leave your Aunt’s home for any reason, no matter how tempting of an offer you may receive, until further notice this summer. I promise I will explain why I make this request at the appropriate time, but for now, please respect my wishes.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster.

Oh, how he wished now, looking back, that he had opened the other letter first! Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad to go to there, after all. He remembered the beautiful eagle owl <Not as nice as Hedwig, though!> standing there, patiently waiting until Harry removed the parchment from its leg. Hey, Scarhead, the letter began,

…I talked to my father when I got home, and he is VERY interested in meeting you, as is my mum. He said that it would be his honor to have the famous Harry Potter visiting the humble Malfoy manor. Yes, he actually does talk like that, can you believe it? And, don’t let him fool you. Our manor is ANYTHING but humble, ha...ha..! Anyway, send me a note, either with our family owl or with your snowy one, Hedwig, right? I think you’ll have an eye-opening experience to see what its like to live in a true wizarding home instead of with those…Muggles (ewww – how can you stand living with those…creatures?)

Slytherin Rules! (Even if those Gryffs beat us in the house cup, those prats! If only that Mudblood hadn’t got so many points!)

Draco

At the time, Harry remembered, he was actually glad that he had read Dumbledore’s letter first. Over the term, while not having a lot of close contact with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he came to respect him as someone who was not to be trifled with as he learned more about him during his History of Magic studies. So, he honestly had no problem with giving him the benefit of the doubt and following his rather cryptic request. Besides, it gave him a convenient excuse to beg off Draco’s invitation.

Harry had dreaded, to that point, having to tell Draco that he’d rather not come visit, but as he reread the letter, he was sure he was doing the right thing. The letter itself, he noticed, insulted not only him <Scarhead – he knows I hate that!>, but also Muggles and a Muggle-born fellow student. Harry had to admit Hermione had done quite well in helping her house secure the cup for Gryffindor. He had talked to her on rare occasions during the year, and found that she really wasn’t all that bad of a person the more he got to know her, even if she was a Gryffindor (and, a bit of a know-it-all, at that.) He had even developed a not-so-grudging respect for her, especially when he heard she had the best grades of all the first-year students. He, of course, was not too far behind Miss Granger in total scores based on his outstanding marks in Potions and Charms, with Draco’s great Potions mark offset by his lower score in Herbology. (“PLANTS, Potter?” he could remember clearly Draco saying, when he had brought the subject up, “Why would I care about PLANTS? Father says that it is a waste of time to worry about anything taught by a Hufflepuff! Especially since that near-squib Longbottom likes them so much. If he can do it, it must be pretty worthless to learn.”)

<So, now I just have to owl “Golden-boy” (Harry’s ‘retaliatory’ name for when Draco called him Scarhead at school), and explain that while I appreciate the offer to visit, Headmaster Dumbledore has asked me to stay here for now. I just wish I could explain why! Maybe I’m tired of putting up with his constant put-downs of anyone not in Slytherin. I just hope the Malfoys will understand.> Harry thought. <I have heard Draco and a few of the other Slytherins calling the headmaster a few uncomplimentary things, but I’m sure that they will honor the Headmaster’s request!>

Unfortunately, Harry was mistaken. In fact, he was surprised to see, the morning after he sent his regrets, an unfamiliar owl carrying a red envelope to him at the breakfast table. He had never seen a wizard post like that before, so he was completely caught off guard (as were the Dursleys) when the envelope started smoking at the corners. He carefully slit it open, and heard Draco’s magnified voice shake the room.

“HOW DARE YOU REFUSE OUR INVITATION, SCARHEAD? YOU’VE GOT QUITE SOME NERVE USING THAT PATHETIC MUDBLOOD-LOVING HEADMASTER OF OURS AS AN EXCUSE! YOU HAVE INSULTED MY FAMILY AND ME! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A FELLOW SLYTHERIN, AND MY FRIEND! WE TRY TO SHOW A HALF-BLOOD LIKE YOURSELF A LITTLE COURTESY, AND YOU THROW IT BACK IN OUR FACES! WHO CARES IF HE DOESN’T WANT YOU TO LEAVE! I SWEAR, POTTER, IF YOU’D RATHER STAY WITH YOUR MUGGLE-KIN, I DON’T KNOW IF I WANT TO BE SEEN WITH YOU ANY MORE! DON’T BOTHER TO WRITE BACK!”

Harry, who had dropped the Howler as soon as it started screaming, was even more surprised when it burst into flames. This, unfortunately, had set Petunia’s favorite tablecloth on fire. By the time they were able to put it out, it was damaged beyond repair and there was also a big scorch mark on the dining table. Everyone was dripping wet from when Dudley had thrown a pitcher of water on the fire, and breakfast was ruined. The end result was that Vernon’s dislike for Harry grew each time they sat down at a meal from then on.

By the time of his birthday, then, Harry wasn’t in too good of a humor, feeling pretty well ignored and friendless, and singing Happy Birthday to himself. After a while, he noticed Dudley approaching. He had just thought he had seen something in the hedge <big …eyes? No, that couldn’t have been… > when Dudley started teasing him about no one remembering his birthday. Harry had successfully scared him off with his pretend magic spells, but the punishment from Petunia did nothing to improve his mood. <Why, oh why, couldn’t have I just gone to the Malfoy’s? I bet I wouldn’t be spreading manure on flowers if I were there!>

Before too long, he was being chased upstairs in preparation for the Mason’s visit, where he met the strangest creature he had ever seen, sitting on his bed –.

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

Eighteen days later, Harry was sitting on his bed, still locked in his room. He had already had his evening escort to the loo by a sniggering Dudley, so he was in for the night. The time hadn’t been all that bad, actually, for the simple reason that he didn’t have to deal with his relatives much at all. As he heard the sounds of what could be mistaken for three buzz-saws coming from two different bedrooms, Harry had gone over the events of that horrible night for the thousand and first time. <Why would a house-elf, on my birthday, try to warn me against going back to Hogwarts, drop a pudding on Mrs. Mason, and get me in trouble with some lady named Hopkirk that I’ve never even heard of before? Not to mention the trouble I’ve been in with Vernon since then? And now, here I am, locked in a room with Hedwig, the next term at Hogwarts getting ready to start, and no way to get out of here. If I don’t think of something soon, I won’t be able to buy my supplies for next year tomorrow or get back to school at all. I wonder if anyone will notice I’m gone!> he thought sadly. <Well, Potter, you’re a Slytherin; looks like you need to use some of that cunning and ingenuity to get out of here! Let’s see, maybe if I used magic, someone from that Improper Use of Magic office would come get me out…but that would also get me expelled, so scratch that idea. Hmm, how about…?>

As he had done many times since the incident with Dobby, he dreamed up a number of outlandish schemes, involving the craziest escapes he had ever seen on Muggle television dramas, but, as usual, none of them seemed too feasible. As he was thinking, he glanced over at the door to see the answer he sought. <Well, so much for cunning and ingenuity,” he grinned. “My idiot cousin didn’t pull the door all the way shut. For once, I’m really glad that he IS a stupid git! And here I was trying to think of some spectacular way to escape, like, maybe even that flying car I can’t get out of my head, and the door is not even locked.>Harry had been having his old dream of flying since he had been locked in the room. When he was younger, the dream had always involved a motorcycle, but now it was of a flying car. The dream was very realistic to him, almost as if he were remembering actually flying all the way to Hogwarts in one. <That’s just crazy,> he reminded himself, <Cars can’t be made to fly! It would attract too much attention from the Muggles! Oh, well, guess I’d better get packing and take advantage of this opportunity before someone wakes up and locks me in again.>

Harry loaded up his trunk and Hedwig’s cage, and snuck quietly out onto the front drive. Before he left, he had “borrowed” some of Uncle Vernon’s tools and cracked open the lock on Hedwig’s cage. “Sorry, girl, but you can’t fly out just yet, and you have to keep quiet or else they’ll hear us,” he whispered. “I promise, I’ll let you out as soon as we get to London.”

Since it was getting late, he wasn’t sure how he was going to get into London, honestly. Fortunately, as he was walking towards the park, he saw a taxi driver heading back to London from a late night fare to Surrey. Harry, having learned some Slytherin techniques in the last year, had “liberated” some Muggle money from the Dursley’s emergency cash, so he was able to flag down the driver and hire him for the trip in. The driver wasn’t too happy at first about picking up someone so late at night, especially carrying a snowy owl, but when Harry flashed a 10 pound note “for your trouble, kind sir” he was more than willing to get a fare-paying trip back to London.

Since the driver had never even heard of a place called the Leaky Cauldron, (‘Blimey, mate, I don’t think that place is part of The Knowledge!’, he said as he scratched his head, ‘I’m almost done studying for my All London test now, I should know!’) Harry gave him directions as best he could to get him within walking distance of the entrance to Diagon Alley. He paid the fare and the 10 pound tip and that pretty well depleted his Muggle money reserves. “Well, better head to Gringotts first thing tomorrow. I guess I should repay the Dursleys for their ‘unintended’ generosity, so I’ll convert some Galleons to Pounds and send it to them. Just have to keep it quiet, if a few of my Slytherin housemates hear that I returned the money, I’ll never live it down.”

But, first, he needed a place to stay for the night. Fortunately, Tom the bartender was just finishing cleaning up the bar when Harry came in, and was glad to rent him a room for the night. “Surely, Mr. Potter! It would be an honor to have you in our establishment for the evening. I’ll put you in Room 12; I hope it will be satisfactory.”

The next morning, Harry went into Diagon Alley to pick up the supplies he would need for his second year. (Vernon had thought it especially funny at the time when the owl delivered the mail while Harry was locked in his room. “Boy, here’s your list of …things you need for that unnatural stuff you get up to at that school. Well, enjoy reading it, because you’re sure not going there this year! They’ll kick you out, boy, and then we’ll see what’s what!) After he left Gringott’s, money bag replenished, he noticed that there was a large crowd of people gathered around Flourish and Blotts that day. For some reason, the crowd tended towards younger witches, and they seemed to be all dressed up in nicer than usual robes. <Wonder what’s going on there?>, he thought. <Maybe everyone’s trying to buy all those books on my list that that Lockhart bloke wrote. Well, I’ll just have to wait till the crowd thins out a bit.> As he walked across the street on his way to buy some treats for Hedwig at Eeylops Owl Emporium, he didn’t even notice the commotion caused by a fight between the head of a well-bred Wizarding family and a junior member of the Ministry of Magic.

*******

There was, however, someone that was VERY interested in watching that battle. Miss Puckle, who had intentionally blended in with the group of giggling Lockhart fans (including, she noticed with a grimace, her younger self) who were fawning on every word he said, had kept one eye on the family of redheads and a giant gathering near the entrance, while trying to ignore Gilderoy’s increasingly obvious attempts to catch her eye. <What did I ever see in that …that…phony hero?> she wondered.

When she noticed Lucius Malfoy, along with his son, move towards the group, she casually headed in that direction, pretending to be interested in a leather-bound set of The Compleat Encyclopedia of Charms that was on display in the window. She listened carefully for her cue. “Here, girl,” Malfoy sneered, “take your book – it’s the best your father can give you –”

As Malfoy left the shop with Draco, Harmony moved in. She had planned this moment for quite some time. So, it was with practiced ease she said to a small redheaded girl, “Why, you must be Ginevra Weasley! I’m so glad to make your acquaintance. Let me introduce myself, although your brothers may have mentioned me. I am Miss Puckle, Assistant Professor of Charms at Hogwarts, with a special assignment to work with all first-year students. Do you prefer Ginevra, or Ginny?”

Ginny was caught off guard by this rather forward witch. Yes, her brothers, especially Fred and George, had told her many times about the “pretty young Charms professor” and how they were going to sweep her off her feet as soon as they were of age and out of Hogwarts. As to which of the twins was going to do this, she wasn’t sure, but she was sure she probably didn’t want to know. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Puckle. My brothers have mentioned you, of course,” she said with a giggle. “I think they are right, you are a very pretty witch! And, it’s Ginny if you please, Miss. How did you know my real name?”

Harmony didn’t even blush at this (since she had long since learned to ignore the flirtations from the students at Hogwarts), but said, “Why, thank you! Aren’t you the polite one? As I mentioned, I am responsible for working with first-years, so I already have a list. Purchasing your textbooks, I see? Do you mind if I have a look at them?”

Ginny blushed, because she knew that the books were second-hand and was a little ashamed, to be honest.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Miss Puckle continued in a knowing manner, “the condition of the cover isn’t as important as what is inside, eh?” I see you’ve got Switch’s transfiguration book, and, oh, look, here’s the one that I’ll be teaching you out of – Waffling’s Magical Theory text.” She continued to look through the books in Ginny’s cauldron, making a few comments about each one. None of the Weasleys noticed the deft sleight-of-hand move that allowed her to switch a very, very old diary from Vauxhall Road for a nice, new leather-bound diary she had purchased previously.

(A/N – Another shorter chapter, but I wanted to reassure everyone that Harry wasn’t going to be taken in by Malfoy for too long. If you don’t get the reference to the London Black Cab Knowledge test, just Google it, or go to http://www.taxiknowledge.co.uk/how.html#KNOW Thanks also to HP-Lexicon.org (http://www.hp-lexicon.org/atlas/britain/atlas-b-diagon.html for the map of Diagon Alley I used.

I know it’s not really all that exciting, but the next chapters should start picking up the action a little. Harmony’s going to have a ‘little chat’ with Gilderoy, for one thing!. Oh, and before anyone says anything about my spelling, like my beta did! -

com•pleat (From Answers.com)

adj.

1. Of or characterized by a highly developed or wide-ranging skill or proficiency: “The compleat speechwriter … comes to anonymity from Harvard Law” (Israel Shenker).

2. Being an outstanding example of a kind; quintessential: “Here was the compleat modern misfit: the very air appeared to poison him; his every step looked treacherous and hard won” (Stephen Schiff). [Variant of COMPLETE.] )

Chapter 10 – A Journey Interrupted

The end of summer vacation couldn’t come quickly enough for Harry’s liking. After purchasing his supplies at Diagon Alley five days previous, it was now time to pack up and prepare to leave for King’s Cross Station the next morning. While at first, Harry enjoyed being back in the Wizarding World (anything would be better than Privet Drive, he thought), he quickly got bored of hearing Tom the Bartender ramble on about wizards he had known, and how exciting it was to have Harry as a guest, and how grateful they all were that he had destroyed The Dark Lord (<…if I really got rid of Voldemort, why is everyone still scared to say his name?> he wondered, not for the first time) and on and on and on until he was ready to scream.

His last night there, though, he heard the only bit of information that was of any interest to Harry. As he said goodnight after helping Harry get all of Lockhart’s books packed away, Tom mentioned that Miss Puckle had stayed in that very room exactly one year before. “What a beautiful young witch,” Tom smiled toothlessly, “and so nice, too! She gave me an entire Galleon for taking care of her things and getting them up to her room. I never got a Galleon before or since from anyone for just haulin’ bags! So, do you like her classes up at Hogwarts? Bet she’s a good teacher, i’n’t she? So smart and all, from Canada, she said!”

Harry, who indeed remembered Miss Puckle, was for some reason pleased to know that he was in the same room that she had stayed at the night before she started at Hogwarts. While he was still a bit young to be interested in such things he wasn’t completely unobservant. He actually thought that his Assistant Charms Professor looked okay for a girl, considering she was a teacher and all. During the year, he had overheard most of the older students in the Slytherin Common Room placing bets on who would be the first to “get” her, along with detailed (and somewhat graphic) speculation on certain parts of her anatomy that he didn’t quite follow, but he got a strange feeling of …anger, maybe? - when he heard them talking that way about her, so he didn’t participate.

As he was getting into bed, he started thinking about his past year at school. Harry again regretted that he had followed Slytherin House’s boycott of Miss Puckle’s extra classes for first year students, especially since he had a suspicion that if all of the Slytherin first years had taken the class, they would have given Gryffindor a closer race in the House Cup standings. Even though he had done very well in his Charms exams, he knew that Hermione Granger had beaten him by a slim margin, and he had heard that she spent a lot of time with Miss Puckle. <Maybe if I had just gone ahead and done the extra study, I could have answered one more of those extra credit questions! Why do the Slytherins all have to do what Malfoy says? Well, not this year. I know Blaise doesn’t like “Golden Boy” either – maybe I’ll have to start hanging around him some more. He seems like a nice bloke. Canada, eh? Don’t know much about witches and wizards over there. Maybe I can ask her about it when I get back to school and apologize for how we treated her last year. Now that I think about it, I should probably do the same with Hermione Granger. I mean, she can’t be all that bad, can she?> And with that, he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, anticipating the trip to Hogwarts the next day.

*******

The next morning, Harry realized with a shock that he wasn’t sure HOW he was to get to Hogwarts, or, at least, to King’s Cross Station. He thought about taking a cab again, but there was no Muggle phone in the Leaky Cauldron and he didn’t want to try to haul his trunk and Hedwig around while he was looking for a phone booth. Besides, for some reason he had overslept quite a bit, and he didn’t have too much time to make the trip from Charing Cross Road to King’s Cross Station. He decided to ask Tom for some advice as he came in to help with his things and settle his bill.

“Not to worry, Mr. Potter. There’s two easy ways for you to get there. You can either go by Floo or by Knight Bus, but with the bus you never know when you’re going to get there, now do you? Besides, you can use your fireplace in your room, don’cha know! There’s a Floo stop hidden not too far from King’s Cross, so that’d be best, I think, since the Knight Bus may be pretty busy today.” At Harry’s increasingly confused look, Tom stopped, puzzled. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about the Floo Network, Harry? Oh, of course, living with them Muggles and all, of course you wouldn’t. Well, it’s simple, you just…”, and Tom proceeded to give a quick instruction on the use of the Floo Network. When he asked if it cost anything to use, Tom assured him that the fee was included in the price of his room that he had paid for. “Most Wizard households pay a fee to the Floo Network Authority based on usage and such, but we just provide the service to our guests.”

Harry nodded, and went over to the fireplace in his room. “Thanks, Tom, for all your trouble. I was going to give you this after you finished with my bags, but now you can tell your customers that TWO guests paid you a Galleon for a tip!” As Tom laughed gleefully, Harry grabbed some Floo Powder from the pot next to the fireplace. As Tom handed him his trunk with Hedwig’s cage on top, Harry threw the powder in the fire as Tom had instructed, said clearly “King’s Cross Station” as the fire roared and turned green, and he was gone.

“What a way to travel!” Harry said moments later as he stopped spinning in a back storage room of a small shop near the station. Hedwig seemed rather unaffected by the whole affair, but Harry wasn’t sure that he wanted to do that again. “Next time, I think I’ll try that Knight Bus Tom mentioned. It can’t be too bad, can it?” He noticed by looking at the clock outside the station that he would be cutting things close, so he ran across the street, grabbed a trolley for his trunk, and headed for Platform 9 3/4. As he got within sight of the platform, he saw what looked like the back of Ron Weasley’s red head as he passed through the barrier. <Good,> he thought, <I’m not too late after all. As soon as they get clear, I’ll go through with some time to spare!>

Harry made sure that Hedwig’s cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. He bent low over the handle of his trolley and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, he broke into a run and –

CRASH.

His trolley hit the barrier and bounced backward, his trunk and Hedwig’s cage falling off with a loud thump (the trunk) and a shriek (Hedwig). A guard nearby yelled, “What in blazes d’you think you’re doing?”

“Lost control of the trolley,” Harry gasped. As he scrambled to pick up Hedwig and his trunk, he was more than a bit scared. As the clock hands moved to 11:00, he knew that he was in trouble. <Why couldn’t I get through? Weasley got through just now, I saw him. Wait a minute, I bet Malfoy has something to do with this! I bet he or his dad, more likely, did something so I can’t get through. Bet he thinks that’s funny, doesn’t he? Trying to get back at me for not coming to see him, I’d wager.> “Well, I’ll show him when I get to school…if I can figure out how to do that, that is!”

Hedwig hooted softly, as Harry had said this last part aloud. <Of course,> he realized, <I’ve got an owl! I’m sure they have some way for late students to get to school; I’ll just send a letter to Professor Snape. He’s my head of house, he’ll know what to do!> Harry quickly pushed the trolley with his trunk back towards the exit, to avoid the stares of the crowd who had gathered to see what the commotion was about. He worked his way back to the Floo Network stop he had used. “Hmm, wonder if I can use this to get to school, even though I’d rather not.” he said out loud. “Well, Tom said you have to know the exact name of the place you want to go, and all I know is here and the Leaky Cauldron, so I’ll ask in the letter. I’d use the Knight Bus, but Tom never told me how to find it, so this will have to do.”

Harry wrote a quick note to Professor Snape, explaining his situation and asking if there was a way he could Floo to school. He sent Hedwig off through an open window with the letter attached to his leg, and sat down in the back of the room between two large, dusty boxes (just in case someone looked in) and waited for a response.

What seemed to Harry to be an eternity passed before Hedwig returned, carrying a parchment bearing the Hogwarts seal.

Mr. Potter,

As head of your house, I was both surprised and somewhat disappointed when I received your message. I can think of no valid reason why you would not be able to pass through the barrier and board the train. While I have never had any reason to doubt you in the past, this whole incident is very disturbing. This is especially true in light of other messages I have received concerning you this summer. I have heard rumours, for example, that you have had a falling-out with your friend Mr. Malfoy, and I could not believe my ears. But, we will discuss this later.

As to your current situation. Yes, you are correct in assuming that there are alternative means for students to travel to Hogwarts, although they are meant to be used in special situations, not for students that miss the train. The Floo Network connection that you will use is at Hogsmeade Station, where you disembarked from the train last year. Of course, we do not use it for transporting students generally since it would tie up the network for hours to get all of the students through safely. You will have to deposit five sickles in the slot next to the Floo powder pot for you to use the network. Since you have also missed your carriage ride to the castle by now, I will arrange for someone to be waiting for you when you arrive to escort you from Hogsmeade. Please come directly to my office when you arrive so I can get to the bottom of this tale of yours and discuss what is going on with my top Potions Student team!

Severus Snape, Head, Slytherin House.

<Uh, oh!>Harry thought. <Professor Snape isn’t going to be happy, that’s for sure. I almost forgot about the Potions competition he wanted Malfoy and me to enter this year. Well, based on the last letter I received from Malfoy, that may be a problem!>

Harry got up, gathered his things, put Hedwig in her cage, and dug five sickles out of his bag. He found a slot next to the ancient powder pot (“Made by Ingnatia Wildsmith”, the rough inscription read), and when he put the coins in, a small handful of powder magically appeared in the container. He repeated the process he had done at the Leaky Cauldron that morning, said “Hogsmeade Station”, and was glad once again that he hadn’t eaten much that day as he started spinning rapidly in the flames.

“Oh, there you are, Mr. Potter. Your head of house asked me to come down and collect you, but I wasn’t expecting you for a few more minutes!” he heard as he emerged from the fireplace in the empty railway station house, choking slightly on the ashes he had breathed in. As he blinked and wiped the soot and ashes from his face, he looked up into the face of …for a second, he thought it was… Hermione Granger? But that couldn’t be… no, it was Miss Puckle who had greeted him, smiling brightly.

<That was close,> she thought to herself, <I have to be more careful about letting my appearance slip. But, I thought I was alone…guess I’ll just have to wait until I get back to my room next time I want to do something like that.>

“M-mm-iss Puckle?” Harry sputtered, still trying to get more ash out of his mouth. “I wasn’t expecting you to come get me! I’m sorry to have bothered you! I thought he would send a prefect or Filch or someone, not you!”

“Well, I’m glad to see you, too, Mr. Potter”, Harmony said with a feigned hurt in her voice. “Honestly, it’s no trouble at all. And, since I am the junior member of the teaching staff, Argus is off somewhere with that cat of his chasing Peeves, and all the prefects are busy escorting the first years to their respective houses, I have the responsibility…to take care of you. I would have volunteered, anyway, since I really enjoy walking down to Hogsmeade. Besides, if I remember correctly, I never had the chance to meet with you as part of my assigned duties to discuss how you are adapting to your first year at Hogwarts! Since you are on the eve of your second year, I had better complete my assignment quickly, or else Professor Dumbledore may notice I have been derelict in my responsibilities.”

Harry goggled at her words, which had caught him off guard. “Wh-what? You want to see how my first year is going, NOW?”

When he looked closer in her eyes, he could tell that she was barely able to keep from laughing. “Potter, don’t be so serious – I was only joking! I honestly would like to talk to you a little, though. Seems like we never got to sit down last year, what with your house’s boycott of my extra classes and all.”

“Sorry about that, Miss Puckle. Draco Malfoy was the one who really started the boycott, and at the time, I followed along since I was still new in the wizarding world…” While they were talking, they gathered Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage (Hedwig having already left for the owlery), and started up the road to the castle. He told her about his summer, and even mentioned a little about his dispute with Draco. The more he talked to her on the way, the more he regretted not standing up to Golden Boy last year. <She’s really nice, a good listener, and yes, she really isn’t bad to look at, besides!> he thought to himself. “Miss Puckle, I have a favor to ask of you,” he said to her as they neared the gates on the west of the lake that guarded the entrance to the castle grounds.

“What is it, Mr. Potter?” she said with a smile that seemed to warm him from head to toe. “Let me guess,” she continued, “you’d like to know what you can do to outscore Miss Granger in Charms this year.”

“How’d you know?” Harry asked, amazed at her perception. “I mean, I just thought of that yesterday! But, yes, I figured that she only beat me last year because she took those extra lessons from you, and I was wondering if you might help me catch up some. I thought that there might be a few others in my year that might also be interested, and maybe we’ll be able to be more competitive in the house cup this time around. Or, are you opposed to helping out Slytherin students after how we treated you last year?”

“Oh, honestly, Har - Mr. Potter, why would you say such a thing? I’d love to work much closer with you this year…and any of your fellow students who are interested, of course,” she added quickly, turning her head so he wouldn’t see the blush that was just starting to show in her cheeks. She had realized as they were going past the lake on the way to the castle just how much she missed walking and talking with Harry as she had done so many times in her past.

<It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?> she reminisced to herself. <I remember him from this year quite well. He is really starting to become quite the handsome young man, and I can see my Harry’s features coming out in his face and his build. Careful, Hermione, wouldn’t want anyone to get suspicious! I’ve got to keep things together for three more years subjective time! It sure wouldn’t do for me as a teacher to get caught in a compromising snog with a second year student, now would it? Although, as far as I am concerned, I’m not quite 18 myself, and he’s still my 17-year old Harry, somewhere in that head of his. It’s only his…his 12 year old body that is…Hermione, GET A GRIP!>she nearly screamed to herself, shaking her head to get rid of the images that had come into her head.

Harry had walked on towards the front door of the castle, completely oblivious to the effect he was having on his escort’s heart rate and circulation. “Here we are, Miss Puckle, back to the castle, safe and sound. I think I could have managed the trip alone. I mean, it’s not like anyone is going to try to attack me or something, is it?”

“No, Mr. Potter – of course not. Severus…I mean, Professor Snape, was just being overly protective of his star pupil, I suspect. That reminds me – you need to get up to his office straightaway. He’s waiting for you and my instructions were not to let you dawdle. So, off you go!” As Harmony watched him head towards Snape’s office in the dungeons, she took a deep breath, smiled wistfully, and headed towards her quarters. <Better go have a talk with Albus tomorrow morning. Maybe he can help me get over this. But for now, I think a cold shower might be a good idea.>

*******

Harry knocked on Professor Snape’s office door. He, of course, had been to this office many times during the past year to discuss various assignments with his head of house. But, as he knocked, he had another one of his “memory flashes” as he called them. They came at the strangest times, when he would be doing the most routine things. He would see in his mind him doing the same thing, but in a different situation. Either he felt a lot older, or he was with…Ron Weasley, or Hermione Granger, or both. The memories were as real as they could be, then they would fade rapidly. This time, he clearly felt an unfamiliar feeling as he knocked on the door of the person who he thought of as a good mentor and Harry’s favorite teacher to this point. <Why am I feeling like I am in very deep trouble right now? I haven’t done anything except miss the train to Hogwarts, and that wasn’t even my fault! It’s almost like I’ve been caught doing something horrible!>

As he knocked again on the door, he was surprised to hear Professor Snape behind him. “Mr. Potter, there you are. Miss Puckle had no problem collecting you, I see.” As he performed the spells to unlock his office door, Snape said in a firm voice, “In you go!”

****

“Mr. Potter…are you all right?” Harry blinked, and reached gratefully for the glasses that someone was handing him. He looked around, somewhat confused. “What am I doing in the Hospital Wing? You’re…Madam Pomfrey, right?” During his last year, Harry had only been to the Hospital Wing once, and that was during an orientation trip led by the prefects, so he wasn’t used to being in a bed there. “Can someone please explain what is going on?” he pleaded.

“Actually, Mr. Potter, we were hoping you could help us with that when you regained consciousness.” Harry noticed that he was also being attended by Headmaster Dumbledore himself. “I know that Madam Pomfrey would prefer that I talk to you in the morning, but I’ll leave that up to you. Do you feel strong enough to answer a few questions?” Harry nodded, ignoring the look of disbelief on the school nurse. Dumbledore smiled, and started in. “Harry, has anything strange happened to you since I sent you that letter at the beginning of summer last year?”

Harry snorted, “Well, that’s putting it mildly, sir. Because of your request in that letter, I’ve got the entire Malfoy family upset with me. Then, I was framed by a house elf and that gets me locked in my room for weeks as a result. I escape purely by chance, go to London, and barely make it to King’s Cross Station because I didn’t get up on time. I never sleep in! Then I can’t get through the barrier at the platform. I have to travel by Floo to get to Hogsmeade, Miss Puckle tells me to meet with Professor Snape right away, and when he told me to go in his office, the next thing I know I’m waking up in a bed in the Hospital Wing. None of it makes any sense at all!”

Madam Pomfrey was becoming more upset the more she heard. “Headmaster, I must insist that we let Mr. Potter get some rest before this interrogation continues. He is obviously distraught, and I will not have him make things worse by reliving these traumatic events. I should have never let you stay here after you and Severus brought him in!”

“Poppy, please calm down. You know that I would never do anything to permanently harm young Mr. Potter! However, I think it is very important that we talk to him now while he still remembers details of what happened. I promise,” Dumbledore said, calmly, “that I will take every precaution to keep him from being too upset.” She huffed a little at this, but she pursed her lips very thinly and said nothing, her eyes flashing.

To Harry, Dumbledore said, “Very good, Harry. I only have two more simple questions for you, and then I will let you rest and hopefully, placate Madam Pomfrey before she bans me from the Hospital Wing…again. First, do you remember what Professor Snape said to you when he invited you into his office, and second, do you remember anything at all after that? Please concentrate carefully, especially on that last question.”

Harry was lost in thought for a moment. “Well, if I remember right, Professor Snape came up behind me, acknowledged I was there, said ‘In you go!’ and then…then, I…thought I was being thrown into…what? …that’s silly!”

“What’s silly, Harry? What do you remember?” Dumbledore had an intense look of concentration on his face as he stared into Harry’s green eyes. “Don’t worry, it will be fine. I am here with you, Harry, and you won’t get hurt. What is it you saw?”

“I…I was being thrown into my old bedroom space at Privet Drive, sir. I haven’t been in there for well over a year. Now that I think about it, I remember the last time I was in that cupboard under the stairs.” Madam Pomfrey started to say something at this, but at a warning look from Dumbledore, she went back to seething quietly. “It was early in the morning the day I left for Hogwarts at the beginning of first year, and Vernon had moved me into the spare bedroom by then. I thought I must have been sleepwalking that night because of all the excitement and ended up in the wrong place, but I also remember feeling like it had been years since I had gone to sleep the night before. That’s what was silly about the whole thing.”

“Is there anything else that you want to tell me?” Albus said, still locking eyes with Harry.

“No, sir, that’s about it. If I remember anything else, I’ll be sure and let you know. For some reason, at the moment I am feeling very tired. Maybe I should just stay here until the morning.”

Madam Pomfrey could no longer keep quiet. “That, Mr. Potter, is the most intelligent thing I have heard anyone say this evening. Good evening, Headmaster!” she said in her most authoritative tone, as she pulled the curtains around Harry’s bed. “If I think he is better tomorrow, I will release him in time for breakfast. But not until I say he is ready.”

*******

“Headmaster Dumbledore, sir! Could I have a word with you please?” Miss Puckle’s voice had an unmistakable strain in it when Albus heard it in his private quarters.

“Well, Miss Puckle. Fancy seeing you here this morning…again! It’s becoming a bit of a tradition already, isn’t it? Two years in a row now I have a very early visit from you on the first day of term, even earlier this time, if I remember right. And, if I’m not mistaken, you would like to discuss the same subject as last year. Should I go ahead and schedule this meeting for next year so I don’t have a conflict?” The amusement in Dumbledore’s voice was evident as he opened the outer door to his office and escorted her directly into his private study. “I wasn’t planning on starting our regular meetings with Minerva until later this week.”

“Oh, Albus, sir, I didn’t mean to barge in, but I do need to talk to you about two things, and it’s probably best that Minerva is not here for this meeting. I’m afraid she might lose some respect for me as a teacher if she were to hear what I am about to tell you,” Harmony said, with a definite guilty tone in her voice.

“Am I to assume,” he queried, “that this does have something to do with young Mr. Potter, then? When I saw you volunteer so enthusiastically to collect him at the station instead of letting our new Head Boy go there as Snape had suggested originally, I thought that maybe…”

“-it wouldn’t be a good idea!” Hermione finished. “Well, you were right about that, sir. I don’t know what came over me after I ‘volunteered’…well; ‘insisted’ is probably a better word. I think my first mistake was walking down to Hogsmeade the way we… Harry and I, that is, used to go. We had our own little path picked out, and I started thinking about how nice it would be to have a chance to talk to Harry all alone on the way back. As you know, I didn’t get too much of a chance to talk to him last year, so I have really missed him…well, anyway, I got to the station and saw myself in the mirror, and made another mistake.”

“What would that be, Hermione?” Albus said with a knowing smile.

“Well, I was wondering what I would look like as Hermione again, but in this older body. So, I wasn’t paying attention to the fireplace, and reversed the appearance spells for a moment, just to satisfy my curiosity. Funny, I’ve never even thought to do that before when I was by myself in my quarters. The next thing I knew, Harry was flooing in, and I think he may have seen the real me for a second before I could change back. He was getting the ash out of his eyes at the time, so I hope he just thought he was seeing things.”

“Go on, Hermione. Do you have any more awful confessions?” His smile was even wider now.

“Well, sir, we started talking, and he was just so…polite, apologizing for the Slytherin boycott last year, and asking if he could get a group of his house mates together for some catch-up Charms work. He really would like to outdo a certain young Gryffindor girl, you know! He also thinks that I could probably help all of Slytherin score better in the House Cup competition if he could just persuade them to work with me. That’s the Harry I remember, the one that was always trying to help others and just be a good kid. Well, then as we were walking towards the castle, I noticed how he had changed so much over the summer. His face, his frame, all of him, is starting to look more and more like the young man I saw at King’s Cross Station that terrible day…and then, I started having the most …inappropriate… thoughts.” Her cheeks were now quite red, and her neck was starting to visibly flush.

“Hermione, please don’t be ashamed or worried. I’ll have to admit, I had my reservations when you went down to Hogsmeade yesterday, but now, at least, you’ve had a reminder of what can happen if you let your guard down when it comes to your feelings. Fortunately, no real harm appears to have come of it. Yes, Mr. Potter is maturing, although I am sure if you asked him to be honest right now, he would only have a vague idea that you are a good-looking teacher who is quite a bit older than he is. Remember that, as far as he knows on the surface, anyway, he is a 12-year old student at Hogwarts. I’m sure he has overheard his older classmates talk about girls and things, but he’s still young enough that it’s not really part of his life yet, the way it will be in the next few years. I have seen this pattern develop countless times over the years, with each class of students. I must admit, however, that your situation is unique.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it, sir? The truth is, in my mind, he and I are nearly the same age. His birthday is actually fifty days before mine sir; 31 July to 19 September, even though I was born the year before him. THAT is what I think of when I see him, the now 17-year old young man who should probably be Head Boy if we were back in my timeline now, not the 12-year old body he is trapped in. And I, - I am almost 18 myself, not this nearly 28 year old dark-haired Assistant Professor of Charms that I see in the mirror every day.” By this time, tears of frustration were quite evident in her eyes.

“My dear, the only thing I can say to you is, don’t give up hope. You have been an exemplary instructor, nearly all of my staff and most of the students (with the exception of a certain house) adore you, while many of that house have other, less appropriate thoughts about you personally. Be that as it may, I assure you that you are maintaining your identity quite well. You will need to come up with a way to resolve your conflicts about Mr. Potter. May I suggest, even though you seemed to be opposed to the idea earlier, that you have a chat or two with Minerva? She actually is a real person who has a real life, you know, and she has loved and lost and loved again a few times herself,” he said with a wistful smirk on his face. “You might just be surprised at her more mature perspective on things. She’s also a very good listener, you know.”

Hermione smiled back at Dumbledore. “Thanks for the advice. You’re right, she might just be who I need right now. And sir, thank you so much for listening, too. I’ve been worried about this all night long, and I was just feeling awful.”

“That’s quite all right, my dear,” he said. “Now, Miss Granger, before you go on to the other subject you mentioned, I would like to tell you about something that happened last night after you brought Harry to the castle.”

“Is something wrong, sir? Did something happen to Harry? I mean, in my timeline, he and Ron would have had quite a run-in with the Whomping Willow last night when they hit it with a flying car. Something about the barrier at the platform not working. We found out later this had been caused by Dobby, the Malfoy’s house-elf.”

“Hmm…that’s interesting. Well, while some of the events have changed, apparently key elements are still in place in this time loop.” Albus said. “Harry was unable to cross through the barrier yesterday, which is why you had to pick him up at the station. Yes, a house-elf could block someone from going through, if there was sufficient reason for him to do so. Curious, the Malfoy’s house-elf, you say…well, back to what happened. Harry met with Severus, and Severus started to escort him into his office, using the phrase, ‘In you go!’ As Severus related to me when I met him on the way to the Hospital Wing, Harry immediately froze up as if he were bound by ropes, and fell on the floor unconscious. Severus magicked a stretcher for him, put him on it, and started floating him towards the Hospital Wing when I found them. Poppy was able to revive him quickly, and when I asked him to recount his experience, he said he remembered being thrown into a cupboard under the stairs in the Dursley home.” Hermione noticed the distaste evident on his face when he said this last.

“Harry,” he mumbled mostly to himself, “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive an old man for his tough decisions one day… Now, where was I? Oh yes, Harry then went on to recount how he had last been in that cupboard when he woke up unexpectedly in there exactly one year ago yesterday when he was coming to Hogwarts for the first time.” Hermione’s eyes lit up as she started realizing what was happening, but Albus was still talking. “…and he also said he felt at the time as if it had been years since he had gone to sleep the night before. It appears, Miss Granger, that your 17-year old friend’s memories are fighting their way to the surface!”

“So, Bellatrix’s memory charm wasn’t done all that well? Surely she is a good enough witch to do that correctly, isn’t she?” Hermione asked her headmaster, perplexed.

“Normally, you’d be correct, my dear,” he responded. “But, you of all people should be able to think about what may have happened. You felt it too, from what I gather from your story. And, as Assistant Professor of Charms, you should remember a certain lesson you teach your N.E.W.T. level students, about…”

“- She crucio’d him, didn’t she? TWICE! No wonder he’s starting to remember through the memory charm! I remember now, spell interactions… ‘The memories of the pain caused by a Cruciatus Curse are especially difficult to remove from a subject’s mind through use of a Memory Charm,’ she quoted perfectly from her Advanced Spell Theory notes. ‘As time goes on, this interaction is lessened, but for a successful memory removal to occur, please wait at least 24 hours for each Cruciatus Curse used on someone before attempting to remove the memory of the attack.’ “At least, that’s what I tell my seventh year students who are wanting to go on to be a healer. I guess that we have a positive confirmation of this warning, eh, sir?”

“Yes, Miss Puckle,” he twinkled merrily. “It looks like Dilys knew what she was talking about. I’ll have to remind her portrait about it sometime. Pity, I suppose, that Bellatrix was never too keen on magical healing theory. But, Tom Riddle should have known. Maybe he forgot to warn her to keep her wand to herself, or maybe she just couldn’t control herself.”

Harmony got a big grin on her face as she remembered what she had felt from Harry the previous year. “No, I think Harry may have caught on somehow. He deliberately annoyed her, trying to force her to get mad enough to attack him. He must have remembered enough of the spell theory we had studied together to think that there might be an interaction. You know, that’s pretty intelligent of him to extrapolate that out to postulate an interaction between an Unforgivable Curse and a Memory Charm! If he were in my class, I’d have to give Slytherin fifty points for that thinking.”

“Well, I don’t see why not!” the headmaster smiled. That will make Severus happy, I’m sure. Fifty points up and the first day of term not even fully begun! But, now about the other thing you would like to discuss. I assume it has something to do with that leather-bound book you have with you?”

(A/N –Thanks again to the HP-Lexicon, (www.hp-lexicon.org) this time for the map of Hogsmeade and the area surrounding Hogwarts! Ignatia Wildsmith is, according to JKR’s website, the Witch of the Month for December 2004 and the inventor of Floo Powder back in the 13th or early 14th century, so that is one OLD pot! And, Dilys, of course, is Dilys Derwent from OotP, St. Mungo’s Healer and Headmistress of Hogwarts back in the mid-1700’s.)

Chapter 11 – A Diary and a Memory

(A/N – Back to Harry for a while, then there’s this interesting discussion going on in the Headmaster’s study that I should probably continue with!)

Harry was starting to get hungry as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. Madam Pomfrey had barely looked at him before she said he could go, and he realized her performance the night before was more for the benefit of the Headmaster than because of any medical concern. As usual, he was surprised by the quantity and selection of food that was displayed on the five tables in the hall. “After a few weeks of eating whatever Aunt Petunia shoved through my cat flap, I don’t think I’ll have too much trouble getting used to this again!”, he thought as his stomach growled. As he headed towards his regular spot at the Slytherin table, he noticed that only a few teachers were at the head table this morning. He was especially surprised to see that neither Miss Puckle nor Dumbledore were at their usual places. <Most of the time last year, they were the first to arrive - wonder what’s up this morning?>

His attention quickly was diverted, though, as he got closer to his familiar seat. Sitting next to Draco Malfoy was what looked like a …very lifelike dummy. It was dressed in old Slytherin robes, had unmistakably messy black hair, glasses, and an exaggerated lightning-bolt shaped scar on its forehead. In case anyone didn’t recognize who it was supposed to be, it had a large sign around its neck. The words, which were flashing and changing colors, read “Scarhead Potter, The Headmaster’s puppet” Harry then noticed that there were strings attached to the puppet, and its mouth was moving, (saying in a quiet voice so as to not attract attention from any adults) “I do whatever Dumbledore wants, whenever he wants me to…I love my Muggle loving headmaster, he’s so good to me…I love living with Muggles, they are so much nicer than Wizard folk…”

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were barely able to keep their laughter under control. “Ah, Potter,” Draco smirked, “there you are! When we didn’t see you last night at the Sorting we were hoping that maybe you decided to stay with your Muggle family permanently! Where were you last night? Did you miss your Muggle bed so much you couldn’t stay with your old roommates? We missed you so much that we had to come up with a substitute for you last night, see? Gave us a chance to practice things we studied last year before classes start up again, besides!”

Harry just stood there, not sure what to do. The student in him was impressed. The dummy did look a lot like him, and the charms necessary to make it look that way weren’t all that easy. It also sounded much like his voice from last year, although he had noticed his own voice had deepened over the summer. He was just looking closer at the flashing paint on the sign when he noticed someone getting ready to take a picture of him with the puppet.

“All right, Harry? I’m –I’m Colin Creevey,” he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. I know I’m not in your house, but d’you think – would it be all right if – can I have a picture?” he said, raising his camera hopefully.

“A picture?” Harry repeated blankly.

“So I can prove I’ve met you,” said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. “I know all about you. Everyone’s told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and now you’re in Slytherin, just like You-Know-Who was. Oh, yeah, I see it, just like the books said, you’ve still got a lightning scar on your forehead, just like your dummy, here! A boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures’ll move, and with this talking dummy of you standing next to you, that’d be really great to send home to my dad, especially if you signed it for him. He’s a Muggle milkman, you know!

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos…to Muggles, Potter?” Draco sneered from across the table. But before Malfoy could say anything else, another voice was heard coming up from behind him.

“Potter, Malfoy, my office, NOW!” Professor Snape’s voice sounded tighter than usual. “And, Malfoy, bring that…that creation of yours with you! I am going to get to the bottom of this TODAY! Potter, you’d better not pull the same stunt you did last night to get out of this!”

The crowd of Slytherins that had gathered around to see Harry’s reaction to Malfoy’s little joke quickly dissipated as their Head of House began speaking. Even Crabbe and Goyle had attempted (quite unsuccessfully, of course) to look inconspicuous. Draco began to protest, but when he saw the look in Snape’s eyes, he realized that was not the time to provoke the potions master. He took out his wand, and muttered a spell that made the dummy follow him as they headed towards Snape’s office. “That will be five points from Slytherin, Malfoy, for using magic in the Great Hall.” Snape said quietly. “After we have our little chat, I may see fit to add to that total.”

******

Back in his study, Albus looked with interest at the small, thin book sticking out of a cloth bag that Harmony was carrying, being very careful not to touch it. “What is so interesting about an old diary, Miss Puckle? Why did you bring it to me? I assume this has something to do with the events of your timeline?”

“Yes sir,” she said quickly. “This is the diary of T. M. Riddle, from fifty years ago as you can see by the date.”

Dumbledore’s voice grew serious. “Ah, Tom’s diary! May I ask how this came into your possession? I didn’t know any of his old school things were available to just anyone!”

“I recently took this from the cauldron of Miss Weasley, whom I’m sure you know. Lucius Malfoy put it there. I have no idea why he gave it to her in the first place, even in my time line. However, I DO know that this diary contains Tom Riddle’s memories from when the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, and Moaning Myrtle was killed by the basilisk. During my timeline, this diary was used to influence Ginny to assist the “image” of Tom contained in these pages in reopening the Chamber, resulting in the petrification of Argus’s cat, some students, and Nearly-Headless Nick before Harry was able to discover the secret of the chamber and kill the basilisk as I told you last year. Ginny was almost killed because of this diary, since Tom was absorbing her life energy as she wrote in it. I was one of the students that was petrified, so much of this story I heard after the fact from Harry and Ginny, among others.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said. “Tom was always an exceptional student, of course. However, even I am impressed by what he accomplished here. No wonder he did so well on his N.E.W.T.s! But, Hermione,” Dumbledore said with a chiding tone, “Why didn’t you mention the existence of this diary to Minerva or me during this last year? If you had told us, we could have helped you in whatever planning I assume you did to recover it.”

“I honestly don’t know, sir. I guess it must have just slipped my mind last year. Up until Halloween, we were so busy figuring out what to do with Voldemort, how to protect my younger self and keep an eye on Harry, not to mention my actually having to teach Charms to quite a few students while doing it, I must have just forgotten,” she said, sheepishly. “I just focused on one year at a time. When last year ended up turning out so well, especially after Hagrid found poor Professor Quirrell’s remains, I didn’t even think about what was coming. After the end of term last year, I went to Diagon Alley to a little flat that I rented for the summer. One morning, I saw the advertisement in the Daily Prophet for Lockhart’s book signing at Flourish and Blotts the next day, and then, I remembered! By then, I knew that I would have to take care of it myself since I didn’t feel I had time to contact you. I came up with a valid reason for me to be there, pretending to be one of Gilderoy’s adoring horde of fanatic witches.” Harmony’s mouth wrinkled in distaste at the mention of Lockhart’s name. “Then, I was able to exchange this diary for a new one I bought for Ginny. I know she actually can use a diary of her own this year, so I gave her one that wouldn’t try to kill her.”

“Well, I think we’d better bring this subject up at our next meeting with Minerva.” Albus said, with a kinder tone in his voice. “While you did an admirable job of intercepting this diary, I would like to be aware of any other things you may have forgotten to tell us about your timeline, just so we’ll be better prepared when we have to face them. Now, as to the disposition of Tom’s book. I assume it is rather benign unless a wizard or witch writes in it?”

“That’s correct, sir. Harry had it in his possession for a short time then, and he showed it to Ron and me. Both of us examined it, and I used both an Aparecium charm on it and a Revealer, but nothing happened. For some reason, Harry tried writing in it on Valentine’s Day that year, and that’s when he was able to communicate with Riddle through the diary. Riddle showed him the night he framed Hagrid’s acromantula for Myrtle’s death and got him expelled. Soon after that Ginny stole it back from Harry because she was afraid he would read what she had written about…well, her crush on Harry, among other things. Of course, that’s a quick summary of what took most of a year to happen, but I think I covered the high points”, Harmony said, taking a deep breath after her long recital.

Dumbledore then asked, “Hermione, do you know what Harry did to destroy it in your timeline?”

“Yes, sir. I just don’t think his solution is such a good idea, though, from what he told me afterwards. It wasn’t the safest method, to say the least,” she spoke with a shudder at the memories. “When he killed the basilisk with Gryffindor’s sword, he was bitten. He pulled the fang out of his arm, and after your phoenix, Fawkes, healed him with his tears Harry was able to use the same fang to destroy the book, and Tom’s thoughts with it.”

“Yes, I agree, I’d prefer to come up with a solution that isn’t quite so…risky, at that.” Dumbledore said with a wry grin on his face. “While I know that Harry is a unique wizard, your stories of his bravery from your past never cease to amaze me. I can see why you wanted to act so quickly to stop those events from having a chance to start if he was not involved. I will have to think about our options. In the meantime, I am sure I can find a place to store it temporarily until we decide what to do with it. It might be interesting to see if we can see if we can use it to uncover any other of Tom’s effects that may be of interest to the Ministry of Magic.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be glad to be rid of that book. Even though I KNOW what it is, sometimes it took all of my willpower to not write in it after I first touched it. Please be careful, sir. I’m sure that Tom would love using your power to revive himself!” Harmony said, smiling.

“Thank you for your concern.” Dumbledore replied. “I’m sure that Tom included a charm that would encourage anyone who handled it to be compelled to write in it, and I will take the appropriate precautions. For now, it will be safe in this room under Godric’s watchful eye. Since he doesn’t have a quill with him in that portrait, I’m sure things will be fine! Is that all, Miss Puckle? The students are most likely enjoying their breakfast in the Great Hall already, and we should make our obligatory appearance soon. First day of term, and all. Shall we?” he said, as they left for the outer door to the office.

As they entered the Hall, Harmony saw the rapidly retreating back of Professor Snape, with Harry and Draco right in front of him, headed out of the hall. It looked like Draco was carrying something that looked like a body over his shoulder. <That’s interesting…wonder who Draco killed? Oh, well, I’ll let Severus take care of his own house’s problems! I hope Harry’s not in trouble!>

*****

But, Harry was in some trouble, although from the way the conversation was going, not as much as his former friend. After entering Snape’s office, Harry realized immediately that his best bet was to keep his mouth shut and not attract attention. Draco, however, didn’t catch on quite as quickly; and as a result he was on the receiving end of Snape’s full fury. “MR. MALFOY! I EXPECTED BETTER BEHAVIOR FROM SOMEONE WITH YOUR IMPRESSIVE WIZARDING BACKGROUND!” Realizing that he would probably lose his voice if he continued at that volume, Snape continued with a bit more control. “I have received many communications from your father over the past summer, Mr. Malfoy. After you were beaten by Miss Granger, ‘a girl of no wizard family’ as I was strongly reminded, in EVERY exam last year, he is…shall we say…concerned that you are not developing the skills you will need to meet your future family responsibilities. He, of course, attempted to blame me for a failure to teach you properly, but I was able to show him specific examples as to why you were not achieving the top marks he expects from his only heir. And now, on the first day of term, what is it I see? You, using the few skills you do possess in an attempt to embarrass a fellow Slytherin in full view of ALL other houses, I might add! Will the two of you tell me what is going on?”

He looked over to Harry, who was actually enjoying the fact that he was not at the receiving end of Snape’s attack. “Potter, tell me what has happened this summer that led up to my receiving the owl you sent yesterday. Malfoy, keep quiet – you’ll have your turn in a moment. In fact, why don’t you wait outside for a while so you won’t be changing your story as a result of what Mr. Potter tells me?”

After Draco went outside to sit in the hall, muttering excuses under his breath the whole time, Harry calmly recounted what had happened from when he left Hogwarts that summer. He told Snape about the two owls he had received at Privet Drive, and even explained why he was glad to have an excuse to turn down the offer from the Malfoys. He described the Howler, and how that had caused him to get in even more trouble with his uncle and aunt, but when he talked about Dobby’s visit and what he had learned from the elf, Professor Snape became very interested. As Harry related this part of the story, Snape looked deeply in his eyes the entire time. Harry felt as if his mind was being inspected under a magnifying glass.

When Harry finished, Snape paused for a long moment before continuing. “A house elf, visiting you in a Muggle home? Potter, if I didn’t know better, I would swear that you were trying to waste my time with a taradiddle. House elves are bound to their master’s home with extremely powerful bonds. Either he was operating on direct orders to interfere with your return to school, or that elf has some serious problems with respecting authority. He didn’t tell you his family’s name, did he?”

“No, sir. Every time he even got close to the subject, he started hurting himself, banging his head on the window and such. He said he would have to shut his ears in the oven door for even talking to me. Sir, what kind of a wizard family would treat ANY creature that way?” Harry asked, puzzled. “I mean, for such a weird looking creature, he seemed pretty nice, actually.”

Snape looked appalled as he said, “Potter, I am not going to sit here and discuss the treatment of house elves in Wizarding households. That is a matter that is best left alone and is only of interest to the master of the elf. I will say that if any elf I had in my service were found to be as uncontrollable as this one, they would be immediately dismissed and left to fend for themselves. Back to your story, Potter. Tell me again why you missed the Hogwarts Express yesterday. Quickly, now, classes will be starting in thirty minutes, and I still have to talk to your classmate alone. Well, well, well, he’s going to be late to class on the first day, what a shame, Mr. Malfoy!”

Harry did a quick summary of his story up until the time Snape came into the Great Hall that morning, and Snape didn’t interrupt or comment again until he was finished. “Well, Potter, I will want to talk to you later about the potion competition, but I am feeling generous today. I don’t know who yet, but someone in Slytherin has already been awarded 50 points this morning! That puts us in the house cup lead from the first day, so I have the luxury of getting to the bottom of this before I make a final decision. By the way, Mr. Potter. I expect to see you at the Slytherin House Quidditch tryouts. You probably missed the announcement, but the schedule is posted on the board in the Common Room. Head off to class for now. I’ve got a lot of things to consider, and…well, let’s just say Draco is on thin ice with his head of house at the moment. Send him in as you leave.”

As Harry hurried down the hall towards his first class of the day (<Charms, with Flitwick and Puckle, then I get to meet the new DADA professor!>, he remembered with a smile), he was almost certain he heard Snape’s voice in full uproar before the door closed. <Well, Golden Boy…> Harry smirked, <…hope you enjoyed your little joke. It was an amazing likeness, I must admit!>

Professor Flitwick was less than amused when he called the roll. “Malfoy?…Malfoy?...Malfoy? Malfoy?

Harry raised his hand. “Um, sir, he’s…busy right now with Professor Snape.” The class of Slytherin second years who had been in the Great Hall that morning, and those who had already heard the story from their classmates, snickered loudly at this.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. But five points from Slytherin for Mr. Malfoy being late on the first day of classes. Two can play at that game, Severus…” he muttered to himself.

Harry was more pleased to see Miss Puckle there, assisting Flitwick in introducing the course objectives for that year. <I’ll have to talk to her afterwards to set up a time for the Charms classes, and then I’ll talk to Blaise later to see if he knows anyone that might be interested. After this morning, I doubt I’ll be inviting Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle, though! That is, if Malfoy will even be allowed out of the common room without a prefect escort for a while!>Harry was surprised at how much he was enjoying the thought of his roommate getting punished. He thought of more and more bizarre detentions or extra assignments, and his smile got wider as the class went on until he felt someone come up behind him and tap him on his shoulder.

“Mr. Potter, are you still with us? Did you hear my question? I’ll repeat it…again…for the third time, I might add!” Miss Puckle sounded quite annoyed. “Can you recount, from memory, the theory behind basic spell interactions that we learned last year? Also, explain why we need to be careful when casting multiple charms on a subject? This may just come up at sometime in your future, either on an exam or in real life, so I’d like your thoughts on the subject.”

*******

After lunch, <Finally, something to eat…didn’t get much breakfast this morning, did I?> Harry headed off to his first Defense against the Dark Arts class, <Ah, there’s Draco, back from his meeting. Doesn’t look too happy, does he?> with his seven Lockhart texts filling his backpack. He had actually looked over them while he was in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, but as he browsed through them, it seemed like he had already read them before. He also had a distinct feeling that he was reading fictionalized accounts of someone else’s exploits, so he was very curious to meet the DADA teacher that thought this course material was worthwhile. As soon as he sat down, he realized who it was.

“Me,” the turquoise-robed wizard said, showing the class his portrait on the back of Harry’s Travels with Trolls. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner…”

< - Of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming Smile Award, but he didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her.> Harry thought, annoyed. <Wait a minute, why did I know that he was going to say that? I’ve never even met the bloke before, and I know what he’s going to say…This is strange.>

What was even stranger is that Harry got the highest score of all of his classmates on the quiz that Lockhart handed out, so he received ten points for Slytherin. <Why would I know that kind of stuff from books that I just skimmed through? It’s almost as if I’ve been through this class before.>

Before he could ponder that any more, Lockhart was saying something about an unfortunate accident that morning with his planned demonstration of dealing with ‘the foulest creatures known to wizardkind’. “Fortunately, a young witch in Gryffindor was of enough assistance that I was able to fight off the vicious attack. Poor girl, she was frightened out of her wits, of course. But, when she fainted, it distracted the beasts just enough that I was able to round up the lot single-handedly with a well-aimed Freezing Charm. As a result, I would just like you to write two scrolls of parchment on any one of my documented exploits in your texts, with extra points for creativity and expressions of gratitude for my service to the wizarding world. Class dismissed.”

(A/N – Awww..no one’s ever mentioned my very subtle reference to one of my favorite movies…so here’s a big hint – it’s when Flitwick is calling the roll.)

Chapter 12 – Alliances Ended and Begun

(A/N – Well, in this chapter, Harry is FINALLY going to get to play some Quidditch – practice, anyway. And, I think it’s about time for the initial meeting between a certain DADA professor and a young assistant professor of charms, don’t you…? )

“Very well, then. It’s between Malfoy and Potter as finalists for the Seeker position, don’t you agree, Professor Snape?” Marcus Flint was sitting in the stands next to the Quidditch field, reviewing the results of the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts. While Flint didn’t look like the most ‘book-smart’ wizard around (and his academic record reflected that) he was a good judge of Quidditch player potential. He could tell that Harry was by far the best natural flyer of the two. Malfoy’s new Nimbus 2001, however, made him a contender by its mere presence in the air. As long as he didn’t fall off of it, the built-in speed and agility of the Nimbus covered a multitude of Malfoy’s weaknesses in flying. And, there had been that note he got that mentioned a possible…generous donation to the team if Draco were to be selected - “Potter, both you and Malfoy will run through the Seeker Drill you’ve been doing one more time. The one to complete the course in the fastest time will be our new Seeker. The other one of you will be on the team as a new Chaser and a reserve Seeker during the season. Remember, even if you win this round, if you don’t keep improving every practice or make a mistake during any match during the year for any reason, I WILL have you switch positions. Potter, you’re first.”

Of course, Harry’s flying skills on the school broom, as good as they were, were not quite able to overcome the raw speed advantage that Draco had with his state-of-the art broom (as Flint had intended all along). <Mr. Malfoy better make good on his “incentive”>, Flint thought. <If Potter had been flying that 2001, there wouldn’t have been any question who would have won. He’s as smooth of a flyer for his age as I have ever seen.>

<Well,> Harry thought, <it’s probably for the best. If I had been chosen as Seeker over Draco, I would have had to request a room transfer, if that is even possible. He’s been bad enough as it is ever since he and Professor Snape had their little ‘chat’, and if I beat him out, I’d never hear the end of it. Now, we’ll just have to see if he can keep the position all year without messing up. At least I’m on the team! And, the Chasers get to score goals during the whole match, anyway.>

The following Saturday, Harry went down to the changing room after a spot of breakfast to join his new teammates. He got into his new green robes, whistled appreciatively at the new Nimbus 2001 broomstick that “a generous donor” had provided, and walked towards the field. He immediately noticed that there was already a team there, dressed in Gryffindor colors, and obviously in the middle of their practice. <Wonder what they are doing here so early in the morning? They must have gotten up before dawn!> Harry realized, glad that he wasn’t on their team. <Don’t we have the field scheduled?>

He saw Wood, (the Gryffindor Captain, he remembered), and the Weasley twins land hard, and Wood was yelling as he came over. “Flint! This is our practice time. We got up specially! You can clear off now!”

Harry thought Oliver was pretty brave charging up to Marcus that way, since Marcus was much larger, meaner looking, and at least a year older. <Well, they do say that Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, eh? That’s not a bad trait to have, is it? Even though a lot of my housemates think that their bravery is really just not being smart enough to see the risks involved!>

Flint answered with a grin on his face (at least Harry thought it was a grin. With Marcus, you never knew!) “Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.” The rest of the Gryffindor team had joined their leader by this time, and faced off with the Slytherin team, some of whom were looking over the three female Gryffindor chasers with more than Quidditch on their minds.

“But I booked the field!” said Wood, positively spitting with rage. “I booked it!”

“Ah,” said Flint, “But I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ‘I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker and Chaser.’”

“You’ve got a new Seeker and a new Chaser?” said Wood, distracted. “Where?”

The five older Slytherins who had been in the front of the group moved aside, revealing Draco and Harry.

“Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s son?” said Fred Weasley, looking at Malfoy with obvious dislike.

“And, you’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?” said George Weasley, with what sounded like a bit of disappointment in his voice.

“Funny you should mention Draco’s father,” said Flint as the rest of the team smiled broadly. “Let me show you the generous gift he’s made to the Slytherin team.” (So, that’s who the donor was, Harry thought. Wonder why he did something like…no, it couldn’t be...a payoff?) As they showed their new Nimbus 2001s to the stunned Gryffindor team, Marcus continued. “Very latest model. Only came out last month. And your whole team is on Cleansweeps, I see. You haven’t a chance!”

As the two teams stood there glowering at each other, Harry had a “memory flash”. In his mind he heard Draco calling someone a Mudblood, and then there was a flash of light, and he heard the sound of someone belching very loudly and saw …slugs hitting the ground?. Before he could see anything else, the flash was over. Harry was really confused. <Wow! That has to be one of the strangest flashes yet! Why would Malfoy calling someone a Mudblood make them belch? I must have eaten a bad piece of bacon or something this morning.>

Finally, Wood blinked. “Okay, Flint, have it your way. My team has been up since early this morning already, and we don’t really want you to see what we’re working on, so we’ll leave. But, I will talk to Professor McGonagall about this, you can be sure of that!” he said over his shoulder as the Gryffindors headed towards the locker rooms.

Harry soon had other things on his mind besides his “flash”, though. He was too busy enjoying himself! Here he was, one of only two second-year students playing for their House teams this year, and on the best team at Hogwarts besides. Harry, the team found out quickly, was much better as a Chaser than Draco was as a Seeker. Once, after Draco had failed to notice the snitch until it landed on his shoulder, Harry could have sworn he heard Flint’s teeth grinding together from across the field. “I swear, Malfoy, if part of the deal for these brooms wasn’t you having to start as Seeker for our first match, you’d be off the team!” he yelled. “Remember, you have to be looking for that snitch ALL THE TIME! You do know what it looks like, don’t you? Maybe you should borrow Potter’s glasses. They might help you see better.”

Finally, practice was over. Harry had been quite good at scoring, even against Slytherin’s best keeper. He had an instinct as to which way the keeper was going to move, and could put the Quaffle in the smallest openings if he wasn’t throwing it through a wide-open hoop. When Flint had blown his whistle, Harry just wanted to stay in the air. “Hey, Marcus! Would it be okay if I just flew around for a while? I’d like to practice with my new broom some more.”

“Sure, Harry. Take Malfoy with you. Merlin knows HE could use some more practice!” Flint said with a grimace. He wasn’t sure his jaw was ever going to unclench itself.

Draco, who had been looking very tired and ready to head back to the castle, glowered at Harry as he whinged, “But, Marcus! I have my…my detention with Professor Snape! He said I had to come to his office as soon as we were done here! I have to be there for 3 hours!”

“Oh, all right.” Flint agreed. “But, I’m warning you, if you don’t get some practice time in on your own, you WON’T be Seeker one minute longer than necessary for us to keep these brooms!”

Draco smirked at Potter, who was very glad that he didn’t have to practice with Malfoy. “So, Scarhead! Think you’re going to show me up, do you? Kissing up to the team captain, showing how ‘dedicated’ you are by asking for more practice? What an idiot! Don’t you know by now, Slytherins NEVER volunteer for extra work? Only Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs would be THAT stupid! Maybe you should go with them – a lot of them are Muggle-lovers, too! They even let Mudbloods like that bushy haired Granger in their house!” And with that, he headed towards the changing room.

**********

“Ah, Miss Granger! What a pleasant surprise!” Miss Puckle said, as Hermione knocked on the door to her office. “Lucky you caught me here!. As you know, I’m usually in my quarters on Saturday, and at Hogsmeade on Sunday, but today I had to update some lesson plans for the older students. How is second year going so far? Are you enjoying your classes this term?”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about, Professor!” Hermione said with a definite edge in her voice.

“Remember, Hermione, when we’re alone, please call me Harmony. You know I’m not really a full professor! It’s Miss Puckle when we’re in class and Harmony when it’s just the two of us. So, what seems to be the trouble? Is Professor Snape taking points away from Gryffindor for breathing too hard or something?”

“No, of course not! Well, he does seem to like to take points off of anyone who is even a second late to class, and he does pick on poor Neville a lot, but I’ve been helping him study and he’s doing better all the time.” Hermione smiled. “He actually just needs a little bit of confidence, I think. He’s really good at Herbology, so I know he can do it, but I think he is just a little scared of Snape.”

“Well, then, what is the problem, Hermione?” Miss Puckle asked, now pretty sure that she already knew. “Does this have something to do with the …stories…I’ve heard about your recent Defense against the Dark Arts lesson?”

“Oh, so you DID hear what that… Oh, never mind, I meant to say, what Professor Lockhart told all the other classes about me and those pixies.” Hermione’s voice got even more indignant as she spoke. “OOOH…how could he…say such things…about me? Even after I got the highest score in class on his… stupid …quiz. He sounded like such a brave wizard and all.”

“Yes, Hermione, I’m sorry, but the story did spread pretty quickly, even for Hogwarts!” Harmony replied, “…which isn’t surprising considering the next class that day was from Slytherin. It didn’t take them long to realize that you were the Gryffindor girl he was referring to, and they conveniently didn’t bother to check to see if any of the rest of the story was true.”

Hermione sounded a little tentative at first. “But…you believe me, don’t you, Harmony? Can you imagine me, fainting because of a cage of Cornish Pixies? Seamus was laughing so hard when he heard Professor Lockhart calling them dangerous that he couldn’t hold his wand straight. That’s why I had to do something! Everyone else was either giggling along with Seamus or trying to keep from getting attacked., while Lockhart ran for his office after he asked me to ‘nip them back into their cage’! Honestly, you’d think that no one remembers that simple Freezing Charm you taught us last year! And then, I heard that he took credit for the whole thing!”

Harmony smirked, “Just be grateful he didn’t use a memory charm on you, Hermione! I guess there were too many witnesses, besides, he was too busy hiding. Don’t look so surprised, my dear. Surely you didn’t believe all of those stories in his books?” (while she knew full well that she actually did.) “What I’m going to tell you now I must ask that you keep as a secret between us. Promise?” Hermione nodded, and Harmony went on. “I can’t tell you why I know this, but rest assured, Professor Lockhart is much, much braver on paper than he is in real life. He is very good at memory charms, though, so don’t ever turn your back on him.”

“He…he didn’t…HE WOULDN’T DARE TO…would he?” Hermione, now nearly 13 years old, was finding out her first crush’s true nature and it was quite a shock.

Harmony looked very thoughtful as she spoke. “Well, let’s see…He did, many times in fact; he will dare to, as long as he can get away with it; and he would again at the drop of a hat given the opportunity. I think that answers your questions, doesn’t it? Don’t feel bad, Hermione. He has been fooling much older witches and wizards than you for many years, and quite a number of witches your age, too! One of these days I will have to ask the Headmaster why he hired such an obvious fraud. I’m sure that he had…sorry, has, his reasons. Gilderoy Lockhart is a rare creature, Hermione. He is a perfect example of what the Muggles would call a ‘media creation’, who has such an ego and with it, a warped view of his own importance that he is more than happy to go along with the fraud. It keeps him in the public eye, and in those fancy robes he seems to favor. I imagine his monthly Sleekeasy bill would feed an average wizard family for a year!”

“But, Harmony,” Hermione asked, still not quite sure what her feelings were. “He seems so nice and brave in his books and in class. He can’t be making that all up, can he? That would be hard to do without leaving some holes in the story.”

“Well, since he gets all the information from the person that actually DID what he claims before he Obliviates them, of course the story is sound. In your case, since he witnessed what you did, it was very easy to adapt your actual actions to create another hero story starring himself. The only ones who wouldn’t believe the new version of events would have been your classmates. I’m sure he plans to discredit them as being confused somehow because they were all confounded with fear. Possibly, he’d explain that your classmates were supporting you because you are such a hero in Gryffindor or something.” Harmony replied patiently. “But, as part of my responsibilities in seeing to the success of Muggle-born students at Hogwarts, and as your friend, I cannot let this go unchallenged. I think it’s time for a little visit with our new DADA professor, don’t you think? I’m sure he will be quite interested in what I have to say. I’ll make an appointment to see him as soon as I can.”

******

Harry flew for another hour before deciding to head back in. <Yes, I could definitely get used to this Nimbus. It’s almost like I’ve ridden something very much like it before. I seem to know EXACTLY what it is going to do in any situation. But, it’s a little faster than I remember…, what am I saying? Why would I remember anything about a broom I have only ridden for about 3 hours now? Maybe I should go talk to Professor Snape and see what he has to say about these memory flashes. Yeah, the next time I see him, I’ll ask him.>

First, though, Harry stopped by his dorm room to change clothes after Quidditch Practice. Since the “dummy” incident, he had taken to avoiding places where Malfoy and his old buddies were likely to be. Right now, he knew that Draco would still be in the dungeons working on whatever punishment Professor Snape had come up with. The potions master had a reputation among all the houses for coming up with the most disgusting tasks, and Harry was glad he had never found out first-hand what they were really like. When he got to his room, he found that he wasn’t the only one that was taking advantage of a “Malfoy-free” time. Blaise Zabini was taking advantage of the quietness, lying on his bed studying. When he saw Harry come in, he didn’t say anything, but he continued to watch with an unreadable expression on his face. Harry started to get a fresh shirt when he saw Blaise start to pack up his books. “Blaise, you don’t have to leave. I’m just getting a clean shirt on. Besides, with Draco gone, I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”

Blaise’s face seemed to show a glimmer of surprise, but he immediately recovered and said sarcastically, “The famous Harry Potter wants to talk to ME? Oh, how will I ever get over it! Did Draco give you permission, or is this something you thought of on your own?”

“Wha…what are you talking about, Blaise?” Harry was stunned at Zabini’s rude attitude. “Why would you think I need Malfoy’s okay before I could talk to you? I talk to you all the time, we’re in the same room every night, you know.”

“Hmmm, well, I guess you’re right, if you count ‘Good Night, Blaise’ as conversation. If you’ve noticed, I don’t seem to fit in the same circles of Slytherin society as you do, and I don’t participate in the ‘friendly banter’ that goes on in either the common room or here. My family is barely tolerated by the pureblood elite in this country, if you weren’t aware.”

Harry smiled, “Well, actually, I wasn’t, Blaise. You probably know this already, but I’m Muggle-raised, so I haven’t ever got involved in that rot. But, the more I see of the ‘pureblood elite’, the less impressed I am. So, why do they not like your family? Did an ancestor of yours do something terrible, like, say, be pleasant to a Mudblood, or worse, a Muggle?”

Blaise goggled at him. “You…you’re serious, Potter? You actually don’t know why they don’t like me? You’re not just pulling my leg, are you?” Harry shook his head with a confused look on his face. “As Draco made it clear my first day here last year, it’s merely the fact that I exist, well, here at Hogwarts, you know. My family probably has a ‘purer’ documented wizarding bloodline than most students here. But, since we are originally from the Italian Alps, I’m not supposed to be going here. Beauxbatons, maybe, - although they’ve got their own crazy ideas about who’s worth knowing- or even Durmstrang. Some British wizarding families are pretty sticky when it comes to “keeping Hogwarts for the English” or some such rot. For some reason, that blasted sorting hat put me in Slytherin, so I was thrown right in the midst of the worst of the lot. It thought about putting me in Gryffindor, and from what I’ve seen since, that might have been a better fit for me. I mean, they’ve got that Patil girl from India, right, the one whose twin is in Ravenclaw? And, Dean Thomas and Angelina Johnson are obviously not your standard Anglo-Saxons, are they? I just don’t have the right face for Slytherin, I guess.”

“Sorry, Blaise, I really didn’t know”, said Harry. “I’m starting to see a lot of things now that I wasn’t aware of until now. Which brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Harry explained his idea about getting a few Slytherins together to take some extra charms classes from Miss Puckle. Blaise wasn’t quite convinced yet that this wasn’t some kind of prank of Malfoy’s or Potter’s, but the more they talked, the more he started to believe Harry was sincere. “You know, Potter, that sounds really interesting. But, how do I know you’re just not trying to get me in trouble with the Gruesome Threesome?”

“The…what?” Harry said, not sure what he just heard.

“You know, Crabbe, Malfoy, and Goyle, also known as the two trolls with half a brain between them.” Zabini said with a smirk. “Although, sometimes I wonder if that’s a bit too complementary to Draco.”

Harry laughed in spite of himself. “Yeah, that’s actually a pretty good description of the three of them, now that you mention it. Who came up with that? Was that your idea?”

“Actually, Potter, there are a few of us in each year that are quite tired of the whole ‘Slytherin Mystique’, mainly those like me who aren’t quite the right color, or don’t go to the right robe shop, or some such. We’re the Slytherins that no one ever notices because we are here to learn something, and don’t really care about the rest of the pureblood nonsense. I bet you don’t even know half of our names, and you’ve been here as long as I have. We sit at the same table with you, but we might as well be in our own little world.”

Harry thought about it, and realized Blaise was probably right. He didn’t know all of the students in his house, just the ones that he had been introduced to by Malfoy and friends. He had never really thought about it before, but the more he did, the less he liked it. “Blaise, I’m sorry. I…never realized. And, by the way, please call me Harry! I was so happy that ANYONE was being nice to me last year; I just didn’t pay attention to how much Draco was controlling my friends and stuff. What a …git he is, and what a prat I am for falling for it! But that just proves what I was talking to Miss Puckle about. I bet that Slytherin could do much better in the house cup if we were using all of our housemates to score points, and we were taking advantage of every opportunity to do better. But, Blaise, if you feel this way, how come you didn’t just go to Miss Puckle last year on your own, you and your other friends.”

“How stupid are you, Pot...I mean, Harry?” Blaise was again surprised at his apparent cluelessness. “I have to live in the same room with the git, you know, and he does have quite a bit of pull around here. A lot of us, being Slytherins in nature, I guess, are cunning enough to realize when to push back and when to let things go when the odds aren’t in our favor. Yeah, you’re probably right – we could do better in the house cup, but Potter, why do you care about getting your house’s name carved in an old trophy? What’s important is what we’re not learning because of the boycott, not who gets the most house points! After we finish our N.E.W.T.S. in five years, it will matter more how we did on them than what color robes we wore while we’re here! In fact, based on what I’ve seen while I’m here, I don’t know that I’m going to advertise that I was IN Slytherin after I leave. Unless something changes, it’s not something I’ll be too proud of.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes I get the strangest feeling that I was put in the wrong house, but the sorting hat was pretty clear on it when I was sorted. So, how about it? Do you think you could talk to these friends of yours and see if they are interested in meeting with Miss Puckle to go over some extra charms coursework? I’m sure she will keep it quiet, if that’s what you want. She’s pretty accommodating, from what I have seen.”

*****

However, at the moment, Miss Puckle was anything BUT accommodating. “PROFESSOR LOCKHART…HOW DARE YOU! I assure you, sir, that the only motive I had in coming to visit you in your quarters today was to discuss the treatment of one of my students in your class! No, I most assuredly do NOT want to see your etchings, nor anything else in your bedroom, and I do mean ANYTHING! Have you been drinking? I thought I smelled some Ogden’s on your breath!” As she was retreating rapidly towards the door to his apartment, she had to continually push him away as he tried to put his arm around her.

“But, Miss Puckle, I’ve known you wanted me ever since I saw you at Flourish and Blotts that day” Gilderoy slurred. “It happens all the time – they come to my book signings, and all they really want is me! Don’t try to deny it, Harmony – I really like the sound of that name, you know – sounds sort of like Har-Moany – has a nice ring to it! Come here, give me a little kiss. You know you want it!”

“I most certainly do NOT!” she said with disgust, “I’m not that kind of witch! And, I do not approve of that…name you just called me – Har-Moany? How disgusting! In the future, I’d prefer it if you refer to me by my proper title – Assistant Professor Puckle. GOOD DAY!” she shouted, pushing him away long enough that she could slam the door shut in his face before he could get there. She could still hear him pleading for her to come back as she retreated down the hallway.

Chapter 13 – Two Meetings and a Détente

(A/N –On to “unlucky” chapter 13 – well, for one person anyway!)

“Miss Puckle, what seems to be the trouble? You look a bit frazzled! Is something wrong? Have you been hurt? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”

Harmony was relieved to hear the voice of the Assistant Headmistress as she left the corridor leading from the staff quarters. She looked up into the Minerva’s concerned face, and said, angrily. “No, I’m fine now – but if he EVER tries that again, I swear he will regret it! OOOH! He better stay away from me if he wants to keep his…life!” She almost said something else, but thought better of it considering who she was talking to.

“To whom are you referring, Harmony?”, McGonagall said calmly, “although I dare say that I have a good idea based on where you came from just now and the condition you are in. Why don’t we continue this discussion in my office where it’s a little more private?”

They walked in silence (except for the occasional half-muttered threat coming from a certain dark-haired witch as she attempted to straighten her slightly disheveled robes) back to Minerva’s office. By the time the door closed and the two of them were seated, Harmony was outwardly much calmer, but her eyes were still fiery. Minerva began quietly, “As I was saying, I assume from what just happened that you had an unpleasant experience with our resident Casanova, or should I say, Lothario? I hope, of course, that you had completely different business in mind when you went to visit him in his quarters?”

“PROFESSOR McGONAGALL! Please don’t even THINK that I would EVER…do such a thing! The very thought of him…touching me…wanting to do…THINGS…to me! I feel like I want to go take a shower for hours just to wash his…slimy …touch…away!” As she was saying this, her adrenaline rush subsided and she started crying, mostly in relief, but with some fear as she realized what could have happened. “If I hadn’t been able to push him away and slam the door, if he hadn’t been a little slow because he was drunk…what would he have done? Minerva, I should never have…what was I thinking? I could have…”

“HARMONY! Don’t you start blaming yourself for this attack on your person!” Minerva’s eyes were now just as fiery. “You DID NOT do anything to cause this! Now, tell me, from the start, what happened.”

Minerva listened quietly, but with increasing anger apparent on her face as Harmony explained the purpose of her visit to Gilderoy, and what had happened after she had knocked on the door.

“…And then, he tried to kiss me! He had grabbed me pretty tightly around the waist, and pulled me towards him. I could smell the firewhiskey on his breath…I couldn’t get to my wand, or else things would have been different, I can tell you!” Harmony’s eyes took on a cold look as she thought of what she could have done to him. “But, then I realized I had to do something quickly. I told him that I wasn’t that kind of a witch, told him to never call me by anything but my title and last name again, and then I pushed him away hard enough that I was able to get out of there. I could hear him begging for me to come back as I ran down the hall, and then I saw you.”

“Miss Puckle…I mean, Hermione,” Minerva said with genuine sorrow in her voice, “I want you to know that this …horrible attack will not be ignored. I assure you that Albus and I will do whatever we can to address this! Unfortunately, Wizarding law is still based on older customs and times. I am sad to say that there is not much official recourse that can be done under the circumstances. Since you were ‘unharmed’ by your encounter, and you were the one who ‘initiated’ the contact…”

Hermione immediately started to say something at this, but Minerva held up her hand. “Calm down, dear. I am just telling you what would happen if this ever went before a wizarding court. Please let me finish before you say anything. Now, where was I? Oh, yes…since you went to talk to Gilderoy in his quarters, during non-instructional hours, on a weekend, in fact, there would be the appearance that you were not there to discuss teaching business. This is especially true considering Lockhart’s well-known reputation with the many female fans he has and his ‘charming good looks’. I am sure that a picture of you in the front row at his book-signing would be on the front page of the next edition of the Daily Prophet if you were to go public with this, and the Wizarding world would immediately think of you as a ‘fan girl’ who wanted some money or publicity or both. I warned the Headmaster when I found out that he was bringing that…poor excuse for a wizard on to teach this year that he would cause trouble! I’m just sorry that you got involved with it.”

“But, Minerva,” Harmony said, sadly. “I just wanted to have a word with him about his unprofessional treatment of …well, my younger self and I didn’t even think…”

McGonagall interrupted, gently. “Yes, my dear, you didn’t think that a teacher at Hogwarts would do such a thing. We all sometimes forget that you are really just an almost 18-year old student doing an admirable job of pretending to be a nearly 28-year old faculty member. You have still not experienced some things that women of your ‘apparent’ age have generally faced by this time – the fact that some men are incapable of controlling themselves, especially someone like Lockhart. He is told regularly, by his agent, his publisher, and his ‘adoring fans’ that he is above all those silly little rules the rest of us try to follow. And, I’d say many of those female fans would have had no problem taking him up on the invitation you declined just now. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t one of the first that did turn him down under those circumstances. Now, before I contact the Headmaster, are you SURE that he did nothing more than grab you around the waist roughly and attempt to kiss you, while making it very clear that he was interested in more than that? Do you have any bruises or marks that you know of that could be examined?”

“Well, not that I can tell, he mainly just wrinkled my robes when he grabbed me, as you saw afterwards. If there are any bruises or scrapes, I wouldn’t know – I don’t feel anything so far, but they may not show up for a while. I suppose I should have Madam Pomfrey check me over to make sure.” Harmony said, resignedly.

“Yes, Hermione, that would be a good idea. Poppy can be trusted to keep things quiet, but she will do a thorough job of making sure you are uninjured. I’ll save some time and tell Albus to meet us in the Hospital Wing so we can fill him in and get you checked out at the same time. It should be relatively empty today, being the weekend and all.”

******

Anyone observing the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Head Healer would have found it an interesting wager as to who was going to lose control first. Dumbledore did have an advantage in the end because of the natural camouflage caused by his long beard and mustache, but anyone who knew him at all would have been able to see the struggle he was having. Madam Pomfrey, however, had resorted to putting on her “clinical” face, so her professional training could mask her feelings about the situation. But, it was obvious that if Gilderoy Lockhart ever found himself in need of any medical attention from that point forward, he would be well-served to find a healer in Hogsmeade, or even better, at St. Mungo’s. Not that she would actually do anything to him that would violate her healer’s oath, but he might find that any treatment he did get would include the most unpleasant treatments possible.

As soon as Poppy was finished with her examination (finding that Miss Puckle, while still emotionally upset, was not physically harmed by Gilderoy), Dumbledore was finally able to speak. “Miss Puckle, I assure you, from the bottom of my heart that I deeply regret what one of my senior staff has done to you. I assure you that I will be meeting with him in my office as soon as we are finished here and he will also be… regretting a few things before he leaves. Unfortunately, as Minerva has explained, we are limited in what we can do beyond a few sanctions at Hogwarts. While I completely disagree with our current laws on the subject, and have worked over the years to modernize them, I feel that it would be best to leave the punishment for this abhorrent act to Minerva and myself. If, however, Poppy had discovered any injuries to your person, I fear that I would not have been so forgiving.”

Harmony looked at her mentor and friend, and realized once again why Dumbledore was the only one that Voldemort feared. There was a powerful anger flashing in his eyes, smoldering just barely under the surface, that was truly frightening. She knew that Gilderoy would be adequately disciplined, but she also knew that if he so much as looked at her again with any hint of interest, she would take matters into her own hand…er…wand. “Thank you, sir. I would like to ask one question, just in case I need to know this in the future. What are my rights as a witch in this situation while at Hogwarts or elsewhere? Am I allowed to protect myself in whatever matter I see fit? Do I need witnesses to back up my story, or what?”

Dumbledore had a hint of a smile on his face as he answered. “Harmony, if he is ever foolish enough to try anything like that again with you or anyone else while at Hogwarts, I will trust your judgment, and your magical abilities, in whatever you choose to do. As part of our meeting today, I will make sure he is aware that you have no limitations on your response, short of an Unforgivable Curse. However, outside of Hogwarts, I would recommend that you try to avoid places and people you don’t feel comfortable around. If you think that you might find yourself faced with that decision, I suggest that you read the applicable Wizarding statutes relating to self-defense and protective use of magic to help you plan your response. I think you will find it interesting reading. But, as for me, I have some staff business to attend to, and I will leave you in the capable care of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. Please excuse me.” And with that, he left, striding purposefully towards the staff quarters.

As soon as he was out of sight, Minerva observed, “Poppy, for a second there, I almost felt sorry for that…prat, but, it’s gone now. You know, I think that today would be a good day to close down the Hospital Wing so the house elves can do a thorough cleaning. I seem to remember hearing that there might be a surprise inspection coming up soon, and I wouldn’t want Hogwarts’ medical facilities to be found wanting. You don’t have any patients here, it’s a weekend, and any possible patients that may be coming here in the next hour or so will just have to make an appointment with St. Mungo’s, I dare say. Unfortunately, I’m sure they will be booked solid for, oh, two or three days at least, at least that’s what I’ll tell the elf I leave in charge. How about it, ladies? I think that this calls for a trip to The Three Broomsticks, just the three of us!”

*****

After Blaise had agreed to gauge the interest of the Slytherin “outcasts” and let him know as soon as he could, Harry just had to share the news with Miss Puckle. As he was walking towards her office, not quite sure where to find her, he thought, <She’ll be so happy! She’s been trying to do something like this since she got here, and now it may just be starting to go that way. I bet she’ll be excited when I tell her, and I love to see her smile. She looks so pretty when she smiles. Maybe she’ll give me a hug, now, that would be nice.> Harry caught himself. <Potter, get a grip…she’s over twice your age, you know! I’ve heard about schoolboy crushes on their teachers, but this is just silly.> But, as hard as he might, he couldn’t get the thought of hugging her out of his mind. Without warning, another “flash” occurred.

Harry crossed a dingy landing in a place that felt very familiar. He turned the doorknob, shaped like a serpent’s head, and opened what he knew was a bedroom door. He caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy, high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room, then there was a loud twittering noise, followed by an even louder shriek, and his vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very bushy hair. Someone, (Miss Puckle, maybe? Now why would she be here?), had thrown herself onto him in a hug that nearly knocked him flat.

<Potter, you are going to HAVE to talk to someone about this!> he thought, completely embarrassed at the feelings he had just had for…a teacher? But, the more he thought about it, he wasn’t sure it was Miss Puckle in his memory. He couldn’t quite put his finger on who it was, it was almost as if that specific face had been removed from his mind. He did remember feeling that he was …older, somehow, in the dream. He knew he was taller for one thing, and he definitely remembered feeling…beard stubble, maybe?, when he hugged whoever it was. <Just great, Potter, now I’m either remembering someone else’s life, or I’m seeing the future. I know that wasn’t me, I don’t have a beard yet! But it felt so real! It was almost as if…I was hugging… –>

“Harry, is that you? What are you doing down here? Are you lost?” a voice (now, why does she sound so familiar?) startled him out of his thoughts.

“–Hermione? Wha…what are YOU doing down here?” And, with one voice, they both said “I was looking for Miss Puckle!” “You, too?” Why do you want to...?” Finally, Harry had enough. “Okay, one of us is going to have to stop this! You go first!” and they both giggled a little.

“I was just coming down here to see if Miss Puckle was back here from her visit with…well, she said she was going to check on something for me, and I wanted to see how it went. She said she’d let me know what he…I mean, what happened. It’s been quite a while since she left, and I’m beginning to get a little worried. What about you? What business do you have with Miss Puckle? Or, are you just coming here to flirt with her, like some of your older housemates have started doing?” Hermione said this last with more than a hint of disapproval in her voice.

“Whoa, wait a minute; don’t accuse me of that stuff!” Harry was more than a little upset, partially because there was a little truth to what she had said. “And besides, it’s not just Slytherins doing it, you know! We’re not the only house that can see…” As soon as he said that, he realized he was in trouble.

“Hmmm, I’m surprised, Potter.” Hermione said. “I thought you might be different, for some reason. Harmony told me…well, never mind. I guess she was wrong.”

Harry started to feel a bit angry with her. “Before you jump to any more conclusions, Miss Granger, I’ll have you know that I have been working with Miss Puckle this year to try to get some of my housemates to take her extra Charms class. She thought this would be a good idea, and would help reduce some of the tension between houses while giving our house a chance to compete better for the House cup. At the time, I agreed with her, but after I see from your attitude that Slytherins may not be welcome, I’m not sure it will be worth it!”

He turned to leave, but he heard Hermione’s sad voice behind him. “I’m…really sorry, Harry! I know a little about that, you know. She told me that she was working with someone in Slytherin to see if she could work with them, she just didn’t tell me it was you. Please forgive me! I would love to see…well; at least SOME Slytherins join us in the class. I’m hoping that they’re not all as bad as – well, you know.”

“Oh, you mean, the Gruesome Threesome?” Harry grinned.

Hermione gasped, and then nodded sheepishly. “So, you’ve heard their nickname, then. So much for the plan to try to keep it to ourselves.”

Harry laughed as he caught a glimpse of a mischievous grin on Hermione’s face. “Actually, I only heard it right before I came here, and from a Slytherin friend of mine, no less. He’s who I came here to talk to Miss Puckle about. He knows a few Slytherins who aren’t too happy with what is happening at Hogwarts, and he’s going to try to convince them to give her a chance. It’ll have to be pretty low-key, though. We don’t want to rub Malfoy’s face in the fact that some of us aren’t doing everything he says.”

Hermione grinned back at him, and Harry had the strangest feeling that he had done this before. It was almost as if he had spent hours upon hours talking to Hermione, as if it were the most natural and familiar thing in the world. But, he couldn’t remember when he would have done that. <Surely not since I met her last year, that’s for sure, he thought to himself. “Must be one of those memory things. Hmm, now there’s an idea!> “Hermione, do you mind if I ask you something? It may sound silly, but I understand you know a lot about magic, considering you’re a m–”

“Watch what you are saying, Potter!” Hermione’s tone was immediately angry. “That’s not very polite, you know, calling me a Mudblood!”

“NOW JUST A MINUTE!” Harry was livid at her accusations. “Please let me finish my sentence before you jump down my throat! All I was going to say was ‘considering you’re a muggle-raised witch.’ I would never call you a …Mudblood! I’m not Draco, you know! I have always admired the fact that you know so much about magic even though you weren’t exposed to it, just almost like me. I don’t remember anything about my parents, even though I hear they were both magical. So, I’m just about as much Muggle-raised as you were!”

Hermione’s voice was even more subdued. “There I go again, jumping into the battle before I even know what’s going on. Guess that’s why I’m in Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw! We’ve been talking just a few minutes, and I’ve already had to apologize to you twice. Can we just start over again, this time without the accusations on my part?”

Harry saw from her face that she was truly sorry, and extended his hand. “Truce, then?”

“Actually, in this case, I think the correct word is détente!” she smiled, shaking his hand firmly. “You know, ‘A relaxing or easing, as of tension between rivals’. The word truce means ‘A temporary cessation or suspension of hostilities by agreement of the opposing sides’ and I really hope that this isn’t just temporary.”

“So, Hermione,” he asked, chuckling. “Are the rumors about you true? Did you really swallow a dictionary when you were younger, or do you just sleep with one strapped to your head so it can sink in?”

“Honestly, Harry, how many times do you think I’ve heard that one?” she giggled back at him. “You’re going to have to do better than that! Where’s that well-known Slytherin ability to insult people?”

And, before they returned to their respective rooms that night, Harry and Hermione were well on the way to becoming, well, not the closest of friends yet, but at least they were capable of being pleasant to each other.

When he went up to his room, he saw that Draco was still in a very bad mood after his detention. Blaise had drawn the curtains around his bed to avoid hearing Malfoy whinge repeatedly to Crabbe and Goyle about the foul, disgusting work he had to do. “That’s house elf work, that is! Look, my hands are still bleeding from all that scrubbing. I’m going to write my father straightaway and tell him how his friend Snape has been treating me, all because of him!” he said, pointing directly at Harry. He had attempted to sneak in quietly to his bed when he heard what was happening. “Professor Snape’s little favorite, he is! And, that Mudblood-loving Dumbledore’s, too! Potter, for such an idiot, you sure know how to kiss up to the right people. No wonder you’re in Slytherin!”

“But I shouldn’t be…”the thought came out of the blue. And, confused, Harry managed to close the curtains and perform a silencing charm so he wouldn’t have to hear Malfoy the rest of the night. Harry didn’t realize that he never got around to asking Hermione if she knew anything about the memory flashes until he was nearly asleep. “Well, I’ll have to ask her some other time. If she doesn’t know, I’m sure she’ll be able to find it in the library…”and with that, he drifted off, with an unusual smile on his face.

(A/N –By the way, Hermione’s definitions of truce and détente were both from Answers.com.)

Chapter 14 – Two Warnings for Harry

(A/N –If you wonder why I bothered to include an event from Chapter 8 in COS as being important enough to include in this timeline, some of the concepts in this chapter are related to a wonderful essay (http://www.symbolic-flight.org/theory_pp_veil.htm - if that link doesn’t work, do a search on the site) by Perdita Potter at Symbolic-Flight.org, called The Veil Mystery Unfurled. I am not using much more than the basic idea, but I have to give her the credit for an interesting theory. She ties the events in COS to critical events in OotP, and possibly to HBP and on to book 7. Symbolic-Flight is a great site, by the way, hosted by Portkey – very insightful H/Hr essays, among other things. But first, I have a little bit of spare business I decided to wrap up from last chapter (PG-13 in nature!), and a Quidditch match to prepare for, which again has a key plot point in it that needs to be addressed for this to all work out!)

September passed and October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. School had settled into its normal pattern after that early weekend in the term, except for some noticeable differences in Gilderoy Lockhart. Starting on the Monday following his famous Cornish Pixie demonstration and continuing for about a week, he seemed to be walking very gingerly wherever he went, as if he had had a very painful accident on a broom. Also, watching him sit at the staff table was sad to see because of the open look of pain on his face. Some male students swore they heard sobbing coming from a bathroom stall right before he emerged one day, obviously upset. This, along with his transparent attempts to do whatever he could to avoid being anywhere near Miss Puckle, and his studied avoidance of any reference to Miss Granger’s “fainting spells” in that first class of the term, seemed to indicate that something or someone had definitely changed him. As a result, the DADA classes became more interesting, since he no longer relied so heavily on his own books to teach the basics of defense. He was still pretty incompetent when it came to actually demonstrating defense spells, but he at least gave them practical homework assignments that allowed the better students to pick it up on their own.

Early on that following Monday, though, Miss Puckle and Professor McGonagall were having trouble keeping the obvious question to themselves during their regular meeting with the Headmaster. It wasn’t helping their curiosity to see that he had a “cat who ate the canary” look the entire morning. Finally, he could not keep from smiling after he had finished with the regular meeting agenda.

“I assume, Harmony and Minerva, that you are somewhat curious as to the results of the staff business I had on Saturday? Well, due to the nature of that business, I feel that it is a private matter between myself and our Defense against the Dark Arts professor. Suffice it to say that the sanctions that have been levied against him for his behavior Saturday are both appropriate, and fully reversible, if he keeps out of further trouble while he is employed here.” As he said this, his eyes seemed to flicker towards a jar on a shelf next to his desk. “But, I dare say that he won’t be so interested in associating with members of the opposite sex for the foreseeable future. I feel that this will allow him to reflect on his life to this point and maybe even improve his behavior.” His eyes were twinkling merrily as he said this last, and Harmony was seen to blush slightly as she realized what had happened. Minerva didn’t blush, however; she was too busy laughing.

Another change that was happening, although not quite so noticeably, was in the Charms quiz and homework scores of a small group of Slytherins. There were at least one or two in each year from that house that seemed to have really put forth some extra effort in their various charms studies, and the House Cup point totals were becoming a tight race between Gryffindor and Slytherin as a result. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were still in the thick of things, too, with not 50 points separating the four houses on any given day.

Harry, who was one of the students whose Charms scores were now at the top of his year (tied with Miss Granger, by the way), had also settled in to his regular Quidditch training. He found that he loved flying so much he didn’t even mind practicing in the worst weather. Heavy rain, cold, snow, wind, none of it mattered to him as long as he was on his broom, learning how to fly scoring plays with his fellow Chasers while keeping an eye on Draco’s sometimes comical attempts to catch the snitch. One stormy day he noticed the unmistakable sight of two red-heads trying to spy on their practice. He flew over by Marcus and discreetly pointed them out to him.

Flint wanted to sneak up behind the Weasley twins and hex them, but Harry had a better idea. “Why don’t we just SHOW them what they came here to see? They obviously are curious about our 2001’s so let’s do a little demonstration – maybe that speed flying drill we use to warm up?” Marcus, who had come to respect Harry’s opinion, (even though he thought he was too soft-hearted sometimes), agreed. He called the team over, and they showed off their speed and agility to a hidden audience. Based on what he saw from his broom, Harry was sure that the Weasley’s would only have seen seven green blurs in the air. He was just as confident that they would spread the word among all the teams, and it never hurts to make your opponents scared of you before you even face them.

Soon, it was Halloween. All of the students were happily anticipating their Halloween Feast in the Great Hall that evening. The decorations and entertainment were all set, and Harry was pretty excited as he left his room with Blaise on the way down to the festivities. He had found that Blaise was, well, not a great friend, but someone to hang out with occasionally. They really didn’t have all that much in common besides the extra charms class and their dislike of their dorm mates. Now that he had distanced himself from Draco and company, he found that he didn’t really have anyone in Slytherin that he was very friendly with. He kept a “businesslike” relationship with his Quidditch teammates, but since they were worried about offending the Malfoy family they did not make an effort off the field to spend time with him. When he bothered to think about it, he really felt as if something or someone was missing in his life, like something was just not “right”. But, he chose not to dwell on something that depressing all that often.

Today, though, he and Blaise were headed from the Slytherin Common room towards the Great Hall when Harry realized he had forgotten his wizard hat. “You go on ahead, Blaise, and save me a seat, will you? I’m really looking forward to some of that excellent treacle tart and pumpkin pie!” He ran back to his dorm room, grabbed his hat, and headed back towards the hall. When he got out into the hall, he was surprised to see the Bloody Baron, floating silently away from the passage to the Great Hall “That’s strange, he usually at least makes an appearance at the big feasts. Wonder where he’s headed? I’ve got a few minutes, still, and Blaise is saving me a seat, so I’ll just see where he’s off to!”

Soon, Harry found himself in front of one of the roomier dungeons. The passageway leading into the dungeon was decorated with jet-black candles, burning bright blue. He heard a terrible screeching sound coming from the draped doorway, and walked a little bit closer to see what was causing it. Before he could go much further, he was stopped by an unexpected voice.

“Mr. Potter, isn’t it? May I help you? What has led you down to this part of the castle on this feast day?” The mournful voice of Nearly-Headless Nick sounded slightly worried as he asked.

“Oh, hello, Sir Nicholas!” Harry said, slightly startled. “I…I was just a bit, well, curious, I guess. I saw the Bloody Baron headed this direction, and I was wondering why he wasn’t going to the Halloween Feast, that’s all. May I ask what is going on here? It looks like someone is having a celebration, too!” He took another step towards the door to get a better look and felt much colder almost instantly.

“Mr. Potter, don’t go any further, if you please.” Nearly-Headless Nick warned. “To answer your question, today is my 500^th Deathday Party, and I have invited a large number of ghosts from around the country to visit. But, this party is, unfortunately, limited today to those who have already passed through the veil. If I had known in advance that you were interested in attending, I would have been more than happy to make the necessary arrangements. (In fact, Nick thought to himself, that would have probably helped my reputation considerably among my peers), but at this late hour I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a good idea. You see, this party, by the nature of its attendees, is held in a “transitional zone” between the physical and spiritual worlds. Those who are living, such as yourself, need to be invited by one of us, and escorted by their host while they are among us. To do otherwise would be…well, let’s just say that you have a lot of life ahead of you, and you need to experience it as a physical being. It is difficult for the living to return from our world unless they are properly prepared.”

“Oh, sorry, Sir Nicholas, I didn’t know that! Yeah, you’re right; I’d rather not have to go through the rest of my time at Hogwarts as a ghost – no offense, of course!” Harry said apologetically.

“That’s quite all right, Mr. Potter. No harm done”, the ghost answered quickly. “But, why don’t you head up to that Halloween feast of yours? If my memories of your father are any indication, I’m sure you’ll find the food there more to your liking, both in quantity and flavor.”

“Wait…you knew my father?” Harry was completely taken aback at this revelation. “Yeah, I guess you would, if you’ve been dead at Hogwarts for 500 years!”

“Yes, and your mother, too! What a charming young witch she was! And your father, now he was quite the character. They were both in my house, you know! Head Boy and Head Girl, too!” Nick said with pride. “Would you like to talk about them sometime?”

“Would I! Of course I would! About all I know is what Hagrid told me when I first found out I was a wizard, but I’d love to find out more about them.” Harry was obviously ready to sit down right there in the doorway and have a chat, but Nick held up a ghostly hand.

“I’d love to talk to you about them, but now, I have a party to host. I promise I will talk to you about this as soon as we can after tonight. The next time you have a free moment, come look me up. I admit, my schedule isn’t all that full, floating around the castle. It’s not like I actually have to be anywhere, now is it? Now, off you go, enjoy your feast!”

Harry turned away, somewhat reluctantly, but Nick had already passed through the draped doorway. Harry ran up the passageway, ran into the Great Hall, and spent the rest of the evening thoroughly enjoying himself. He started to tell Blaise about his adventure in the dungeons, but he thought better of it. <No, I’m sure he wouldn’t be all that interested in hearing me go on about a ghost and my parents. Sometimes I wish there was someone who I could talk to about things like that.>

*****

“Yes, Albus; tonight is the night that Ginny opened the Chamber in my timeline.” Miss Puckle said as they were walking towards the Great Hall. “Harry, Ron, and I had attended Sir Nicholas’s 500^th Deathday party in the dungeons, and Harry heard the Basilisk moving through the pipes. He followed the voice, and we saw a message written on this very wall. Ginny had written in it blood while under the influence of that diary. The message said the chamber had been opened, and that the enemies of the heir should beware. Mrs. Norris was the first petrified victim that night, but there were others, as I have already told you.”

Dumbledore smiled as he spoke. “Some things have not changed, at least. Sir Nicholas is having his party this evening, of course. He was courteous enough to send me an invitation after I had reserved the room for him, although I begged off due to my previous commitments with tonight’s feast. I have been to other events of this nature, of course, after the proper arrangements have been made. Severus has too, now that I think about it. Once he was invited to a Deathday celebration for the Bloody Baron, and as head of Slytherin, he felt that he was obligated to attend. Of course, neither one of us can stand the smell or sight of either salmon or haggis ever since!” he said ruefully.

“Oh, don’t I know it!” Harmony grimaced. “Whenever I have eaten peanuts or cheese from that time on, I still automatically check them for mold and fungus, too! Bleaaah!”

“Fortunately, it appears that this part of the timeline has been changed, at least, and hopefully towards a ‘safer’ alternative.” Dumbledore sounded relieved. “Now that I have been able to neutralize the power of Tom’s diary, I am confident that he will not be able to terrorize Miss Weasley and the rest of our non-pureblooded student body! I am concerned, though, that Harry’s skills will not have been tested as they were in your version of events. Of course, there are other implications, too. The Chamber, while sealed, still has a sleeping Basilisk in it, and Harry will not have the loyalty of the Weasley family as a result of his heroic rescue of their only daughter. Hmmm, this is a quandary! How much change is ‘too much’? Are we doing a different type of damage in our efforts to push things back towards your memories, when obviously there are some major differences now? I’ll have to consider this carefully. I think I am missing an obvious solution now, but time paradoxes are always a challenge. Let’s consider this more at our next meeting, shall we? But, for now, let’s join the feast. Oh, look, there’s Gilderoy! Hmm, I wonder why he is always in such a hurry to leave when you come into a room? I’ve noticed he always looks so pale when he sees you, too. I hope he’s not coming down with something!” he said, winking at her.

*****

The following Saturday, Harry woke early and went to breakfast so he would have time for his meal to settle. Finally, the day of his first-ever Quidditch Match (as a player, anyway) had arrived. He was pretty confident, considering his team was mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy, but he was still a bit nervous as he got dressed in his brand-new green and silver robes with the rest of his teammates.

As they walked on the field, Harry immediately realized he was playing before a hostile crowd. Fully three of the four houses were booing loudly, but as he looked towards the Slytherin stands, he could tell that they were cheering as much as they possibly could. Then, as the Gryffindor team was introduced, the ear-splitting roar immediately changed, with a deafening cheer going up for the scarlet-robed underdogs. Harry was surprised at how loud it was on the field. <Wow, I never realized just how much people don’t like us at Hogwarts. Just because we’ve won the Quidditch cup for so many years, I guess they want us to fall apart. We’re just trying to do our best! And, if our best is better than the other teams, we’ll win. They always have a chance to beat us!>

As soon as Madam Hooch sounded her whistle and the Quaffle was taken by Alicia Spinnet for Gryffindor, Harry immediately rose with his teammates. The next thing he knew, Marcus was yelling at him. “Oi, Potter! Get down here! You’re supposed to be on defense, going after the Quaffle, remember! Let Malfoy look for the snitch. You’ve got plays to run! GET SCORING, POTTER! If Malfoy needs any help, I’ll let you know!

Harry was very embarrassed, considering that just for a moment he had found himself automatically starting a search for the snitch. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. By this time, Adrian Pucey had intercepted a Quaffle intended for Angelina Johnson. Harry immediately joined the Chaser formation they had been working on for weeks now. It was designed to get him into scoring position quickly, since his skills were not well known by Gryffindor’s keeper, Oliver Wood. Pucey passed to Flint, who did a perfect sloth-grip roll to confuse his pursuers, and by then Harry was wide open in front of the left hoop with Wood distracted over by the far right hoop by Pucey’s feint. “Come on, Marcus, let’s do it!” Harry muttered, NOW!”

But, as Flint had thrown a pinpoint pass to Harry, he heard a Bludger heading right for him. As he caught the Quaffle and threw it through the open hoop in one smooth motion, the Bludger barely missed his head. “Watch it, Potter,” Flint said as the score was announced, “those Weasley twins must have been practicing their Beater skills all summer! I’ve never seen a Bludger swerve like that! It’s almost like it had eyes!”

*****

Many hours later, Harry woke up quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. He was quite disoriented, and couldn’t figure out where he was for a moment. Then, it started to come back to him, how the Bludger kept on following him no matter what he tried. At first, the Slytherins were yelling that the Gryffindors had hexed the Bludger somehow, but it became immediately apparent that the Weasley’s were not anywhere near that Bludger when it would swoop down towards him, obviously controlled by some other force. Even though they ended up winning when Malfoy heard the snitch flying in his left ear and was able to catch it, Harry’s arm ended up being broken by the Bludger while his team was celebrating the win. <I thought Bludgers were supposed to stop whenever Hooch blows her whistle! Guess not! But, why did that git Lockhart have to come down and remove all the bones in my arm? Why was he trying to show off like that? He’s not a healer! Must have been trying to get his name in the Daily Prophet again! He sure turned white when he saw both Hermione and Miss Puckle headed towards him, didn’t he? I never knew he could turn tail and run so fast!>

Then, as he rolled over to protect his aching, but rapidly healing arm, he yelped. “DOBBY! What are you doing here?” The green-eyed house elf was standing next to his bed, getting ready to put a dampened sponge on Harry’s forehead.

“Harry Potter came back to school,” he whispered miserably, “Dobby tried to warn Harry Potter, then he made him sleepy, but he still found another way to get to Hogwarts after he missed the train.”

“How did you know I missed the train? Did YOU block the barrier that day? Why, I ought to strangle you! Do you know how much trouble you caused me that day?”

“Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home.”

*****

Lying there in the dark, Harry’s arm felt like it was full of very large splinters. Madam Pomfrey had said he wouldn’t be done healing until near breakfast time in the morning. But, that was not why he was still awake. After hearing Dobby’s crazy tale about a backup plan to open something called the Chamber of Secrets, using Harry’s abilities to make a monster attack Mudbloods; not to mention what he learned about house-elves and their masters, followed by a tearful plea for him to leave Hogwarts before it was too late, he wasn’t able to sleep a wink. <I don’t even know what a Chamber of Secrets is! Why did he say I have special powers? Even if I did, I wouldn’t use them to attack other students, no matter who they are!> Harry was, to say the least, quite confused. <That does it! I’m going to see Professor Snape as soon as I get out of here. This is just too weird….but, wait a minute. The last time I said anything about a house elf, Snape was not too sympathetic. He seemed to think I was making it all up to get out of trouble. So, who else can I talk to? Dumbledore? Well, I don’t know him very well, do I? He seems okay, but I don’t think I should introduce myself to him in quite this manner, so scratch that idea. Let’s see…I know! I’ll talk to Miss Puckle. We have Charms practice Monday after dinner, and I’ll just stay after for a moment to have a word with her. She might have some suggestions about what to do, at least!>

Harry was surprised at just how interested Miss Puckle was in his story. “I was hoping that you would…I mean to say, I’m glad that you came to talk to me, Harry! I have worked with house elves on a few occasions in the past, if you weren’t aware. But, I admit that this is a strange story (<…even though it’s the second time I’ve heard it!> she thought to herself with a chuckle.) I think that it would be best that we involve the Headmaster as soon as we can. He might be able to shed some light on this Chamber of Secrets you mentioned. Let’s go to his office and see if he’s available.”

As they got off the spiral staircase at the door to Dumbledore’s office, Harry was surprised to see that the knocker was in the shape of a Griffin. <It looks like the Headmaster was in Gryffindor, eh? I hope he doesn’t play favorites when it comes to students from Slytherin. All the heads of houses seem to be pretty fair with students in the other houses, though, so I’m sure the Headmaster will be, also.>

Miss Puckle rapped on the door, and as it opened, she entered as if she was quite familiar with the place. She immediately ushered Harry over towards an enormous, claw-footed desk, then turned and greeted a strange looking bird perched behind the door. “Hello, Fawkes! My, you’re starting to look a bit under the weather. How long is it until your burning day?” she asked.

“Oh, I’d say at least five, maybe six more weeks, Miss Puckle.” Albus had come in so quietly that both Harmony and Harry jumped. “I hope that he will be back to his old self again around Christmas, and here it is only the second week in November. But, I’m sure you have more important things to discuss than the well-being of my phoenix, isn’t that right? Ah, Mr. Potter, I’m glad to see you again. Have you had any more blackouts since I saw you in the hospital wing back at the first of term?”

“No, sir, nothing like that.” he responded. “But, Miss Puckle would like me to talk to you about something that just happened in the Hospital Wing after my …Quidditch accident on Saturday.”

Dumbledore looked slightly amused. “Oh, yes, the ‘rogue Bludger’ that broke your arm. It took the combined efforts of spells from Madam Hooch, Professor Flitwick, and Miss Puckle to finally bring it under control after you were taken to the Hospital Wing. I hope that you suffered no long-lasting damage because of Professor Lockhart’s ministrations! Hmm, maybe it’s time for another little chat with him, although I daresay if I invite him into my office again, he may just faint dead away.”

Harry could have sworn that he saw his Headmaster and Miss Puckle exchange a knowing wink, and he could tell that she, for one, was barely able to keep from laughing out loud, especially when her eyes rested for a second on a jar on the shelf next to his desk. <Must be a private joke…> he thought as he answered Dumbledore. “No, Headmaster, my arm is fine now. I’m sure Professor Lockhart was just trying to help, although I admit I wish he hadn’t practiced his bone-mending charm on me!”

“Well, that’s just it, Mr. Potter. From what I understand, he didn’t do a bone-mending charm. He unintentionally used the wand movements for a bone-removing charm, which is used in cases of multiple, painful fractures of large bones if performed in a medical facility,” Dumbledore explained. “Under different circumstances, I’d almost recommend that he attend some of Miss Puckle’s excellent charms classes, but I doubt that he would think that is a good idea.” This time, Harry noticed that Harmony’s eyes got very wide for a second, and then she was back to stifling her laughter as best she could.

“Headmaster Dumbledore,” she said, barely able to keep her composure at first. “Harry does have something to tell you that you may be interested in. Please let him speak, and I’ll just sit over here and listen.”

Dumbledore nodded at Harry as if to tell him to go ahead, so Harry started explaining what had happened in the Hospital Wing a few nights previous.

“So, anyway, Miss Puckle thought you might be able to tell us something about this Chamber of Secrets that the house-elf Dobby warned me about. What exactly is it, sir? And, what does it have to do with me?” Harry asked pleadingly.

Albus steepled his fingers for a moment, and looked at Harry. “Usually, I tell anyone who asks me that question the ‘approved’ answer, which is that the Chamber of Secrets is an old legend and many learned wizards and witches have spent years trying to find it unsuccessfully. But, because of new information I have received in the past few years, I have to tell you the rest of the story. I understand from Professor Binns that History of Magic isn’t your favorite subject (of course he could have been referring to any one of a number of students, come to think of it), but please pay attention, Harry. I think this story will be able to hold your interest. Please have a seat – this may take a while.”

******

After Dumbledore finished relating the entire legend of the Chamber, along with a few additional details he had recently been told from an unimpeachable source, Harry sat for a moment, stunned to silence. “So, there is a …basilisk somewhere in an underground passage in this castle, and, from what Dobby said, I’m supposed to know how to control it somehow? I’m not even sure I know what a basilisk is…” Miss Puckle started to answer him, but Albus waved her off quickly, “so how am I supposed to make it attack people? And, why would I want to attack a student here…well, I guess there are one or two that I wouldn’t mind…but I surely wouldn’t use a monster on them!”

“Well, that’s the big question, now isn’t it, Harry? Since you have no idea why a house elf would be warning you about this, to the point of trying to harm you just to keep you safe from this possible fate, I’m just going to warn you to keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary that happens to you the rest of this year. If something does happen, I want you to make sure you tell me, Professor McGonagall, or Miss Puckle right away.”

“Professor McGonagall, sir? Why not Professor Snape? As you know, he’s the head of my house. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to tell him about my situation?”

“Normally, that would be the case,” Dumbledore thought quickly, “But, Professor McGonagall also has some unique knowledge about these old legends, as does Miss Puckle. I assure you, Professor Snape will be kept informed of anything of importance that you report to us. We meet regularly and I will make sure of that. If that’s all, Mr. Potter, I’ll ask Miss Puckle to escort you back to your common room hall. Harmony, after you are finished with that, please stop by Minerva’s office and ask her to join us for a quick word.”

Afterwards, Harry realized he should have probably brought up his memory flashes with the Headmaster, but since he hadn’t had one for a while, he had forgotten to mention it. <Must not be all that important, then, if I can’t remember it any easier than that>, he thought as he went quickly to sleep.

In the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore was chuckling as he talked to his two trusted associates. “Hermione, weren’t we just discussing on Halloween about how we may have made too many changes in the timeline? Fortunately, it appears that certain events are ‘meant to be’, as long as we don’t interfere too much. It looks like Harry may just have an adventure of some kind in the Chamber of Secrets this year after all.”

Chapter 15 – Dueling Pairs

(A/N –This is one place where I cannot get a certain scene from the COS movie out of my head as I write it. I normally work hard to keep any movie “contamination” out of this story, but I personally think Kenneth Branagh did a PERFECT interpretation of Gilderoy, at least when he appears on the Dueling Club stage. So, in your own mind, if you’ve seen the movie, think of his line here being spoken with the timing and inflections of that scene.)

Less than a week before the end of term, Harry was walking across the entrance hall. He noticed a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been posted. <Hey, there’s Ron Weasley!> Harry noticed the obvious red hair on a much taller frame. <It’s been ages since I’ve seen him except in passing. Wonder what he’s been up to this year? Hey, there’s Hermione, too! Now I’ve got to see what’s going on, even though it seems like it’s mostly Gryffs over there right now.>

One of the Gryffindors (<Seamus, right?> Harry vaguely remembered) was reading the note out loud for the benefit of the rest of the group. “They’re starting a Dueling Club! First meeting tonight! I wouldn’t mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy some time,” he said. “You never know when you’ll run into someone you may have to fight!” he said, eyes narrowing while he watched Harry come closer.

Ron Weasley, who had also noticed Harry’s approach, said “Unfortunately, it looks like the Club is open to ALL houses…” He had been very vocal in the Great Hall for weeks after Harry’s first match about how unfair the match was and the poor sportsmanship of the Slytherin team. <Funny,> Harry thought to himself with a smirk, <I was the one being chased all over the place by a rogue Bludger, and I was the one who got my arm shattered and re-grown, but you don’t hear me complaining! Of course, that may have been because we won!> he chuckled inside.

Harry was happy to hear a familiar voice, although it wasn’t too pleasant at the moment. “Now Ronald Weasley - HONESTLY! Of COURSE it is open to all of the houses. It’s not like we have to bring our Quidditch rivalries into everything, now is it? Don’t be so rude! Hi, Harry! Are you going to come to the class tonight? You could bring a few of your friends, you know!” Harry could have sworn she winked at him when he said this. Since they had been meeting together as part of the group taking Miss Puckle’s extra charms lessons, they were becoming more comfortable around each other. A major “icebreaker” had occurred soon after that particular Quidditch match. Harry made a point in front of the whole class of thanking her and Miss Puckle for rushing to his aid after Lockhart had de-boned him, and also to Harmony for helping disable the Bludger before it was able to do more damage. Harry had seen Hermione blush for the first time since they had met, and he was struck by a random thought of how nice she looked.

“Sure, Granger, that sounds like fun!” he smiled slightly back at her. Yeah, I might be able to round up a few others to attend! Wonder what Dumbledore’s doing this for? I haven’t heard about a dueling club at Hogwarts before.”

He then heard another, older, but also familiar voice behind him. “The Headmaster feels that it would be a good idea for the students to have a chance to reinforce the skills they are learning in their classes, and this is a fun way to do it.” If he hadn’t been looking right at Hermione then, he would have bet a Galleon that it was Hermione, or at least her older sister, that had said it. “Oh, hello, Miss Puckle!” he said as he turned to see who it was. “Will you be there, too? Who’s teaching the class tonight?”

“You’ll just have to come to the Great Hall at 8 tonight to find out! Of course, I’ll be there – I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” she said as she seemed to be smiling at a private joke again.

********

“Headmaster, sir, are you…sss…sure you want me to teach this class?” Gilderoy Lockhart’s voice was quite shaky from the shock he had received when Dumbledore had knocked on his office door earlier that day.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Of course, Gilderoy. You are the Defense against the Dark Arts professor, are you not? I would think you’d be jumping at the chance to teach an after hours class in your area of expertise. Miss Puckle says it is very rewarding!”

At the sound of Miss Puckle’s name, Gilderoy’s face went pale. “She…she won’t…be there, will she?” he said, with rising fear in his voice. Are you sss…sure that Filius wouldn’t be a bbb…better choice, then? …Please?”

“I doubt you could drag her away from this class with a convocation of raging hippogriffs”, Dumbledore replied wryly. “And Filius has some important business to attend to at the Ministry this evening. Don’t worry, Gilderoy. I expect both you and she will be on your best behaviors tonight, so I trust that things will go well. Besides, Severus will be there, too. In fact, why don’t you invite him to be your dueling partner for your demonstrations? I am sure he will really enjoy that!”

The more Gilderoy thought about it, the more he began to like the idea. “Yes…Yes! I could wear my deep plum robes… they look so dashing, you know…I’ll have to have the house elves work on my hair, and get my cape pressed…Of course, sir! I would be honored to teach the youngsters a few things! I must go invite Severus right away! I’m sure he might just learn a few things, himself – that sly dog!”

Dumbledore decided it was best to leave him to it. “Good, it’s settled, then. I’ll notify the rest of the staff so they are aware of what is happening in the Great Hall, and I’ll post the notice on the board. 8 PM, then?”

*****

Harry found he didn’t need to invite anyone from Slytherin, since most of the student body was already planning on attending that evening. He was dismayed, though, to see the Gruesome Threesome, along with their female counterparts of Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Daphne Greengrass, already there.

“Hey, there’s Scarhead!” Draco yelled so everyone took notice of Harry’s arrival “Maybe he wants to learn how to defend himself against a Bludger instead of having to have his Mudblood friends do it for him! By the way, how’s the arm? Got all your bones back? Better not let Lockhart near you – he may try to take some other parts…rumor has it he may be in the market for some, as it were!”

Harry had no clue what Malfoy was talking about, although apparently his five cohorts did, based on the snickering that was going on among them. Instead, he started walking towards another part of the large crowd. “Harry, over here! Come over by us!” Hermione was beckoning to him from the other side of the stage, standing by Miss Puckle.

Harry thought this was a much better option than being near Draco, so he walked over. “Hello, Miss Puckle! Hello, Granger! Quite the crowd, eh?”

“I wonder who’ll be teaching us?” said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. “Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young – maybe it’ll be him.”

“As long as it’s not –” Harry began, but he ended on a groan. Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Professor Snape, wearing his usual black.

“No, sorry, Professor Flitwick had business in London tonight,” Harmony said. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll enjoy this demonstration of Gilderoy’s true abilities,” she said with a repressed giggle. “It will be quite the show, if I’m not mistaken.”

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, in his most dramatic voice, “Gather round, gather… round! Can everybody… see me? Can you all…hear me? Excellent.”

******

Miss Puckle stood in the background, watching the events of five years previous replaying in front of her. Of course, she was an observer instead of a participant, but she did see that things went almost exactly the same as the first time. <You stupid, incompetent git…Snape is much too good a duelist to not take advantage of you dropping your guard like that right before you start to attack. Well, if I ever have to face him again, I’ll know to look out for that. Interesting…why didn’t I notice before that Harry automatically moved towards me when Severus started pairing us up? If I hadn’t seen it happen just now, I still wouldn’t have believed it! Ow! That still hurts, even now! I remember that headlock from Bulstrode (Millicent? The first time I saw her, I would have sworn she was a bloke…). Oh yes, I still remember that - Harry using all of his strength to pull her off of me…he didn’t have to do that, then OR now, did he? I mean, Lockhart and Snape were both right there! Hmm…maybe he already had…has a little bit of feeling for me…her…whatever! Uh, oh…here comes the famous Malfoy-Potter duel! Guess Snape wanted to give them a chance to work out their differences in a duel instead of by pranking each other all the time. Wonder if what has to happen will do so this time? Well, here goes…>

“Scared?” muttered Malfoy.

“You wish,” said Harry out of the corner of his mouth. (Harmony hadn’t heard that comment the first time around, but this time she had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing out loud. As a result, she missed Harry’s rude remark to Gilderoy.)

“Three – two – one – go!” Lockhart shouted.

Draco raised his hand quickly and bellowed, “Serpensortia!”

<Now, I KNOW he didn’t learn that one in any Charms class here at Hogwarts!> Harmony thought, as she watched the familiar scene unfold again. <It looks like Daddy’s been teaching Junior a few Death Eater favorites when he’s home between terms! But, why that spell… unless… he WANTED Harry to speak Parseltongue in front of the whole school. Poor Justin…he’s scared out of his wits! Ah, there goes Severus, saving the day. Wait a minute…B…but that means…NO! I’m going to have to let Albus know about this…Oh…poor Harry! EVERYONE is moving away from him now, Snape, Ron, everyone. Come on, Hermione, pluck up a little of that Gryffindor courage and help him get out of there!>

Hermione, though, had a momentary look of utter revulsion on her face. But then, as if she were in a trance, she looked first at Miss Puckle, and then at Harry’s frightened expression, and right then she made up her mind. She grabbed his robes in the general confusion and murmuring, and whispered in his ear “Come on! Move – come on- follow me!”

Anyone watching Miss Puckle at that moment would have seen a tear form at the corner of her eye as she muttered, “That’s my girl…!” as she headed across the Entrance Hall on her way to the Headmaster’s office. She was even more pleased when she noticed Hermione pulling Harry towards a small chamber next to the Great Hall (the same one that McGonagall used to hold the first year students each year until the sorting occurred), where she knew he would be getting a quick lesson in what it means to be a Parselmouth.

*****

“Just as you suspected, sir…the Dueling Club episode I told you about was important.” Harmony said as she sat down in her favorite chair in the Headmaster’s office. “For some reason, I suspect that Lucius taught Draco that Serpensortia spell so Harry would instinctively use his Parselmouth abilities in front of the whole school. But, why would he want to do that? I mean, what does it gain him?”

“Think for a minute, Miss Puckle…what did Lucius gain in your timeline when the Basilisk was unleashed? Don’t you think that some of his aspirations are still the same now? He has always wanted to have more control over this school, even after he bribed his way onto the board of governors. Maybe that was the “reward” he was offered originally that motivated him to plant the diary with young Miss Weasley in the first place!”

“But, sir, you’ve neutralized the diary, so the Basilisk shouldn’t be awakened this time around, should it?” Harmony asked…but then, the light came on. “Oh, …I see… that means that Harry is now the ONLY one around who can open the Chamber and free Salazar’s pet, and with that little display in front of the whole school, there will be no doubt in anyone’s mind that Harry is the Heir of Slytherin!”

“Very good, Hermione! Sorry, but right then you reminded me so much of your younger self as you are figuring out an answer to a problem, I couldn’t resist using your real name.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily. “Yes, you are right. And, since we now have a good idea of why this all happened, let’s see if we can make this work to our advantage. You see, I would really prefer that Harry actually accomplish at least part of Lucius’s little plot to remove me from my position here. I’d rather not have a Basilisk, sleeping or not, anywhere around Hogwarts. Aragog and all of his family don’t like it, either; and I’m afraid I’m rather fond of fresh chicken soup on these cold winter nights. Let’s see if we can keep Harry from completing the rest of Lucius’s plan. Maybe it’s time to ‘recruit’ Miss Granger to help in this matter.”

“I was just thinking the same thing, Albus. I was so proud of myself when I made up my mind just now to do the ‘decent’ thing for Harry. As soon as she made up her mind to help him, I recognized my ‘Protect Harry’ face show up right away. Although, I don’t remember it being quite so…so…determined! Guess it all depends on which side of the face you are on!” Harmony laughed.

“So, how will you go about this, my dear?” Dumbledore prodded. “I still don’t think it is a good idea for you to reveal your identity to her yet. As confident as I am in her intelligence and mental stability, I’d prefer you wait until she’s older before you drop THAT little bombshell on her.”

“Oh, no sir! That will have to come out over time, and I’d prefer her to figure it out for herself, somehow, when the time comes. No, I was just going to suggest that Hermione could invite Harry to another meeting in your office, where you and I can have a follow-up on that discussion we had with him about the Basilisk.”

(A/N –By the way, in this chapter I originally used the term “Pride” to refer to a group of Hippogriffs, and my reviewer bluemoon thought that “herd” may be more appropriate. Well, I consulted a reference (http://www.sandiegozoo.org/kids/got_questions_groups_list.html) and I found another option for Hippogriffs –So Dumbledore now refers to a “convocation” of Hippogriffs – this is also used for eagles, and I thought it might work.)

Chapter 16 – A Dinner with Dumbledore

“Harry…Harry…please slow down! I hoped I’d catch you after you finished breakfast! I need to talk to you!” Harry had, in the short time since the dueling club incident, taken to coming down to the Great Hall near the end of a scheduled meal time to miss most of the crowd and then leaving as soon as he could force a few bites down. He was already tired of the not-quite whispered murmurs, finger-pointing, and “looks” he was getting as he ate, even from his housemates. He almost kept up his pace towards the exit, but something in Hermione’s voice made him pause. He turned around and looked at her, but when he saw who she was with, he thought about turning on his heel and finding another way to his first class. Then, he saw that Hermione had a friendly smile on her face, and right now he realized that was just what he needed.

“Oh, hi, Hermione, hello…Ginny,” he said, shyly. He had really only met the Weasley girl once before. He had, of course, immediately figured out who Ginny had to be when he saw her near the first of the term, her red hair being an unmistakable sign. The first time she had been introduced to him formally (by Ron, wasn’t it? – strange, that was one of the few times this year he said anything to me that wasn’t rude…) her face had turned about the color of her hair, and she had not been able to do more than stammer a greeting before she had run off. This time, though, she seemed quite a bit more nervous and …frightened than anything to meet him.

Hermione had also noticed her nervousness, and as they drew closer, Harry heard her say, “Ginny, calm down! Remember, I’m your friend, and I wouldn’t introduce you to someone who will hurt you! Haven’t I helped you with your homework most nights this term? Trust me, Harry’s not at all like what you may have heard. Besides, I remember back at the beginning of the school year you were VERY interested in meeting him, right?” Ginny smiled weakly, first at Hermione, and then at Harry, but he could tell she was still not convinced.

Harry’s voice had a cold edge as he looked at the frightened first-year. “So, are you afraid I’ll turn you into a toad, or conjure up a whole knot of snakes to attack you? Don’t worry; you’re a pure-blood, aren’t you? If I remember the stories right, I’m only supposed to attack half-bloods and Mudbloods. Besides, tomorrow’s the end of term, so just keep away from me until then and you’ll be safe!”, and he once again turned to leave. <Just what I need, another person that is scared to be around me, just like that Finch-Fletchly bloke in Hufflepuff. Why did Hermione have to embarrass me like this?>

Before he could get too far, though, he felt a gentle pull on his robes. “Harry, please wait…I’m sorry about Ginny. I thought…well, that she’d handle it better after I talked to her this morning. Guess I was wrong. Why don’t we go outside for a minute? We’ve got too many people watching right now.” Hermione, now standing between Harry and Ginny, gently grabbed both of their arms and pulled them towards the front door. “After that blizzard the other day it’s still a bit cold out there this morning, but that means that we shouldn’t have too many onlookers.”

They walked in silence to the front doors, and Harry thought that Hermione’s weather report was a bit understated as a bitter wind swirled around them, coming right off the heavy snowfall. They quickly ducked in to a sheltered spot near the front doors. Hermione pulled a jam jar out of her robes and muttered a spell, resulting in a warm, bright blue fire. “There, that’s better,” she said, warming her hands and motioning to the others to do the same. “Now, let’s get down to business. Ginny Weasley, this is Harry Potter. He’s a second year student in Slytherin house. Go ahead, shake his hand – he won’t bite!”

“…much!” Harry said with a wicked smirk on his face as he reached out his hand. He had heard that as the punch line to a joke someone had told in the Common room, and he couldn’t resist.

“Honestly, Harry…you’re not helping matters!” Hermione tutted at him, but grinned as she saw Ginny giggle and shake his hand. “That’s better. Harry Potter, this is Ginny Weasley. I’m sure she would want to hex me if I told you her full first name, but Ginny is what she goes by. She’s a first year student in Gryffindor house. She is the younger sister of Ron, Fred, George, and Percy Weasley, whom you have already met, but I dare say she is nicer than the rest of the lot – at least she eats with her mouth closed, cares about her class work, and doesn’t come across as a pompous… git most of the time.”

Both Ginny and Harry laughed at Hermione’s quick descriptive summary of the Weasley boys. “Well, that’s good to know, Hermione. If I ever eat lunch around her, at least I won’t have to keep my eyes away from her face. Honestly, Ginny, didn’t your mother ever try to teach him some manners? If my aunt had seen me eating that way, I’d have been thrown in my cupboard…”

“Harry, what is it? For a second there, it looked like you went blank.” Hermione had a puzzled look on her face.

He was even more confused. “What are you talking about, Granger? I just asked Ginny if her mother had tried to teach Ron some manners, and the next thing I knew, you said I blanked out.”

Ginny spoke up, still sounding nervous. “No, Harry, you did ask me about Ron’s table manners, but then you said something else…about a cupboard. That’s when your face went blank! What’s going on, Hermione?”

“Harry, do you know anything about this? Have you talked to Miss Puckle or the headmaster? Let me help you!” Hermione said, pleadingly. She had noticed his face start to harden as he seemed to withdraw a little.

He seemed a little frustrated as he answered. “Help me? Why do you think I need help from you right now? I’m fine, really! Yes, Dumbledore knows. I mentioned it to him before the beginning of term after I missed the Hogwarts Express. He must not have been too worried about it, although the last time I talked to him he did remind me to let him know if anything strange happened to me…but, it wasn’t all THAT strange, come to think about it. If you two hadn’t seen it, I probably wouldn’t know that anything happened, now would I? Give it a rest, okay?”

Harry noticed that Hermione had been looking intently at him when he said that the Headmaster knew. She didn’t sound too convinced when she asked, “Now, why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me the whole story? Have you told him about every time you’ve had something like this happen?”

Ginny interrupted with a chuckle. “Yeah, Harry, I’ve seen that look from Gred and Forge…sorry, Fred and George, whenever Mum or Dad catches wind of one of their little escapades and asks them about it. Come on, ‘fess up! But, can we PLEASE continue this conversation inside? I can’t feel my ears anymore, and if it hadn’t been for this fire, I’m sure we’d all be icicles by now.”

“I agree with Ginny!” Harry said, as he realized his backside was pretty numb from the wind. “But, you’re going to have to show me how to make that fire one of these days – that might be a handy spell to know! My hands are still warm, at least!”

“Potter, Weasley, don’t try to change the subject! Oh, all right, let’s go in. Hopefully most everyone’s done with breakfast now. I’m getting a bit chilled, myself.” Hermione waved her intricately decorated wand over the jar, extinguishing the flames, and put the jar and her wand back in her robes.

As they walked in the front door, Ginny’s curiosity was too much for her. “Hermione, I never noticed your wand that closely before. It’s so…pretty, with all those flowers and things carved on it! And, it looks a lot like Miss Puckle’s wand, now that I think about it! I remember seeing it at that first charms lesson I went to with her. Your wand could be the twin of hers!”

“That’s strange…I never really paid that much attention, I guess. I didn’t think it was polite to stare at someone’s wand unless they invited you to look at it.” Hermione said. “I’m sure that Miss Puckle must have gotten her wand somewhere else, going to school in Canada and all that, but she did tell me once that she spent her early years in England. Hmm, maybe the next time I talk to her, I’ll ask her. Mine is a vine wood wand with a dragon-heartstring core. Some say that the vine wood is supposed to have something to do with strengthening mental powers, but others say it is related to…other things,” and Hermione started to blush a little as she said this.

Harry jumped in before he noticed her slight embarrassment. “Well, it seems to have worked, at least with the ‘mental powers’ thing, wouldn’t you say! I don’t know how anyone can keep all those facts straight in their head like you do! I mean, you even remember what Binns says, and that’s not a mean feat! Although I think you’re a bit keen on the whole Werewolf Code of Conduct thing!”

“Thanks, Harry…I didn’t know you noticed.” She started to say something else, but seemed to think better of it and said, instead, “Now, what were we talking about before the two of you froze up on me. Oh, yes! Funny, that is actually related to what I wanted to talk to you about. Last night Miss Puckle asked me to invite you to visit with her, Professor McGonagall, the headmaster, and me this evening during dinner. They’ll have some food brought in for us –she said something about you getting a full meal for a change without all the distractions. I just happened to run into Ginny before I came down, and I had wanted the two of you to meet anyway, so this seemed like a good way to take care of both at once.”

“But, why are you invited, Hermione?” Ginny asked. “Can I come? Oooh…it sounds mysterious…maybe they’re going to talk about…well, you know, the dueling club!” Ginny realized that she had probably said something sensitive, and started to blush quite red.

“QUIET, Ginny!” Hermione snapped, much more forcefully than she intended to. “I don’t know why I was invited, or what this is about. All I know is that I’m meeting Professor McGonagall at her office with Harry at the start of dinner today, and no one else is invited.”

“Don’t I have something to say about this?” Harry said, obviously annoyed. “I haven’t even decided if I’m going to go or not, and it appears you’ve already made my mind up for me.”

“Yes…well, sorry about that, Harry. I just assumed…” Hermione said, slightly worried at Harry’s tone. “Besides, you even said that the Headmaster wanted you to let him know if something strange happened, and you could at least do that when you are there. And, Ginny, sorry to bite your head off just now. I wondered about those questions myself, and it makes me a bit nervous. I didn’t mean to be so brisk with you.”

“To tell you the truth, Hermione, I WAS beginning to wonder which of the two of you was scarier just now! I mean, Harry’s been very polite to me, and you about jump down my throat for asking a simple question. Are you SURE you weren’t put into the wrong house?” she giggled. “And, no, I don’t mean Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff!”

Harry had a fleeting thought of Hermione, wearing Slytherin colors, sitting near him in the common room, but shook his head slightly. <No, that would never happen…She’s not the Slytherin type!>, he thought sadly. <But then, I didn’t think I was, up until this whole ‘talking to snakes’ thing came out.>

“How about it, Harry? I mean, at the very least you get to enjoy a full meal without people talking about you behind your back,” Hermione pointed out.

“That would be a change, now that I think about it. Sure, I guess I’ll go. When and where do you want to meet me so you can escort me to Professor McGonagall’s office?”

****

“Welcome, Mr. Potter! I’m glad you could join us for dinner this evening! Thank you, Miss Granger, for convincing him to come.” Headmaster Dumbledore had escorted the two students into a private dining room, set with five place settings. Minerva and Harmony followed right behind, and Miss Puckle was the first to comment, “Headmaster, sir, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this part of your office in all of the times we have met here. I could have sworn this was a bookshelf the last time I was here, because I sat here reading a fascinating old book titled ‘New Charms for the 15^th Century Wizard’.”

“Hmm…I do believe you are correct, my dear. But, today, we needed a dining room, and, well, here we are! This castle always surprises me with its resourcefulness, and this office especially seems attuned to the needs of the current headmaster. But, as for now, please tell the place settings what you would like for dinner. Let’s eat first, and discuss business later.”

For the first time in a long time, Harry really enjoyed his meal. He ate his favorite dishes and desserts until he was full, and he also had some interesting conversation with his dinner companions. He found that all three adults at the table were genuinely nice people, and the Headmaster even told a few jokes that were pretty good (although Professor McGonagall ended up having to remind him of the time and he finally stopped.) Harry also had a chance to get to know Hermione a little more as a person, not just a student in a competing house, and he found that she was very pleasant to be around when she wasn’t in her “homework” mode. She really seemed interested in him, not just as “The Boy Who Lived”, or more recently, as the “Parselmouth from Slytherin”. He had not had that kind of honest attention paid to him by adults or children…well, ever in his life, he realized.

As the five of them were finishing their pieces of pumpkin pie, Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Ahem…well, although I’m sure the evening would be a success if we just went back to our respective quarters right now with full stomachs and happy minds, I would like to take some time to discuss some important items with you, Harry. After what happened at the Dueling Club meeting, I’m sure both of you have some questions, as do I, and the three older of us in this party would like to make a proposal to you. But first, your questions, then. Yes, Hermione, did you want to ask something?”

“Actually, no, sir. But, I think Mr. Potter needs to tell you something before we get started, and I hope it is more than one thing,” she said, while glancing with determination at Harry.

“Harry, I assume Miss Granger is correct,” Dumbledore chuckled, “or is that a sure bet?”

He returned her glance for a second, then chuckled in response. “Well, actually yes it is, sir. The last time we met, you asked me to report if anything strange happened to me. This morning, when Hermione was letting me know about this meeting…well, I blacked out again. Ginny said I mentioned something about my old cupboard first, but as you can see, I can talk about it now without any problem. I think I must have just gotten distracted for a moment.”

Hermione was obviously expecting him to continue, but when he didn’t, she went ahead. “Harry, you didn’t tell him the whole story, probably because you don’t remember part of it. What you said was, ‘If my aunt had seen me eating that way, I’d have been thrown in my cupboard…’ before you blacked out.”

Dumbledore raised his hand to interrupt. “Miss Granger, I hate to disappoint you, but I am already aware of this reaction. He had a similar thing happen to him at the beginning of term, and Miss Puckle and I are confident that we know what is causing that problem. Unfortunately, now is not the time to let you know about our theories, but rest assured that this shouldn’t have any negative effects on Mr. Potter’s health.”

Hermione wouldn’t be dismissed so easily, though. “Go on, Harry – tell him the rest of it. What else has been happening besides the blackouts? I’m curious myself as to what you are keeping secret!”

All three adults immediately looked at Harry with renewed concern. “What is it, Harry?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s just my mind playing tricks on me or something, but…” and Harry proceeded to tell about his memory flashes. He found that the more he told them, the more flashes he remembered, but he also could tell that there were certain memories that he couldn’t recall at all. It was as if he remembered having a memory, but the memory itself was gone. He even told them about his more “bizarre” memories, where he felt that he was in an older body, sometimes with Ron Weasley, sometimes with Hermione, but most of the time with both of them. When he described his dream of being “tackle-hugged” by someone in a familiar-feeling bedroom that he just couldn’t place, he was so intent on describing his feelings that he failed to notice Miss Puckle’s embarrassed reaction.

Albus noticed, though, and thought it would be safer to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Tell me more about these Quidditch memories, Mr. Potter. You said you just ‘felt’ you should start looking for the Snitch when Madam Hooch blew her whistle? How much time have you spent practicing Seeker skills?”

“Not all that much, to be honest, sir. Marcus just had Draco and me go through some speed and agility drills with that basic training snitch, you know, the one that flies a pre-set course at a steady speed just to make sure a Seeker can actually catch one? After Malfoy was picked as the first-team Seeker, I’ve spent all of my practice time working on scoring plays with the rest of the team.”

“Do you enjoy being a Chaser, Harry? Do you ever find yourself bored or distracted when you’re practicing?”

“Oh, no, sir…well, yes, occasionally…” he answered with a guilty grin. Generally, it’s when I see the Snitch from across the field and Draco…well; he seems to have trouble seeing it sometimes. I know Marcus gets really frustrated with him, but, apparently he made a promise, and he kept up his end of the deal.” Albus smiled, as he had heard rumors about “the deal,” but kept quiet until Harry was finished describing his experiences with the Nimbus 2001 and how familiar it felt to him the first time he ever rode it.

Finally, when Harry had told them all he could remember, Dumbledore was silent for a few moments. “Hmm, well, that WAS interesting, Harry. I would like to discuss these new developments with my staff, and see if we can come to a conclusion. But, before you get your hopes up, I have a feeling that we may not be able to share this information with you, either. I fear that the time is not yet right for that.”

Harry was now looking at Hermione with an unhappy look on his face. “You mean, you convinced me to tell everyone all that…stuff, and now no one can tell me what is happening? WHY? I mean, it’s the memories in my head, you know! Oh, I should never have let you talk me into coming here, Granger! Now it’s just going to make things worse!”

Hermione, on the other hand, had passed Harry’s stare on to Miss Puckle. “You told me that if I brought Harry here, you’d be able to help him! And now, you CAN’T? Well, actually, it seems that you WON’T, even if you can. Miss Puckle, I can’t believe you tricked me into bringing him here!” There was fire in her eyes and her voice as she spoke.

“Hermione, please calm down!” Harmony said, quietly. “Let me ask you one thing before you get any more upset with me. Do you trust me?”

Hermione stared at her favorite teacher for a moment, and visibly relaxed. “Of course I do, Miss Puckle. From the moment I first met you last year, I’ve always trusted you for some reason.”

“Then I must ask you to trust me on this one, and trust Professor McGonagall and the headmaster also. We have very good reasons for keeping certain things from the two of you, and I promise it will all be made clear to you in due time. But for now, please believe that we will tell you what we can, as soon as we can. I know that you are not satisfied with that answer, I know I would have been furious if I were you, but please be patient.”

Harry didn’t seem like he wanted to end the discussion, but he saw right away that Hermione had made her decision to drop it. <Guess I’d better go along for now, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!> “Is there anything else, sir?” His voice was much more formal now as he addressed his headmaster.

“Actually, Harry, there is,” Dumbledore replied. “I mentioned before that we had a proposal for you, but before that, I would like to answer your questions about your experience at the Dueling Club, if you are still interested. And, no, before you ask, I do reserve the right to not answer certain questions that may arise, but, on this subject, I’m rather confident that we shouldn’t have a problem. So, go ahead, what would you like to know? I’m sure you got the basic concepts from Miss Granger.”

“Yes, sir, she explained what a Parselmouth is, and she said that the ability to speak to snakes is what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. I suppose the sorting hat was right after all, eh, putting me in Slytherin last year! But, why can I speak Parseltongue, and what does all this have to do with ‘The Heir of Slytherin’?” Some of the ‘whispers’ of my classmates haven’t been all that quiet, you know!”

“Well, Mr. Potter, there are two questions I can answer at one time. You can speak Parseltongue, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly, “because Lord Voldemort – who is the Heir of Salazar Slytherin – can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure…”

“Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?” Harry said, thunderstruck. He did notice, however, that McGonagall and Hermione winced at each mention of the Dark Lord’s name, but Miss Puckle and Dumbledore did not.

“It certainly seems so. And, apparently, someone wanted you to ‘reveal’ that talent you were given at a time when everyone at school would know about it. Without going into a lot of Wizarding world political maneuvering, did you ever wonder why young Mr. Malfoy used that particular spell during your duel?”

“Well, he was talking to Professor Snape beforehand, so I assumed that he must have suggested it, which really surprised me when I noticed. I mean, he’s my head of house, too! I didn’t think it was fair that he was helping Draco out and not me!” Harry remembered the quick flash of anger he had felt when he saw Snape whispering in Draco’s ear, and Malfoy smirking afterwards.

“Harry, I assure you, your head of house was doing no such thing. I asked him afterwards what had happened when I heard the reports of your unique skill surfacing, and he told me that he was warning Mr. Malfoy to not use certain spells of a, shall we say, darker nature on you or else he would be spending the rest of term in detention. Since the Serpensortia is one of the more mild forms of a ‘dark curse’, he reduced it to only three hours of cauldron scrubbing.” Dumbledore said with a grin. “And, before you ask, Hermione and Harry, I do trust Severus Snape, for very good reasons that are personal in nature, so I am sure that he was telling me the truth.”

“Does this have anything to do with the legend of the Chamber of Secrets?” Hermione blurted out. Only the Headmaster and Miss Puckle did not seem shocked at this question.

“How did you know about that, Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall asked directly. “Or, have you been reading Hogwarts – A History again? Sorry, that was a foolish question!” she said, as she saw Hermione’s face.

Dumbledore seemed pleased, however. “Very good deduction, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor!” Hermione, while happy at the points for her house, was more interested in the answer.

“As I explained to Harry earlier this year, there is an official answer concerning the Chamber of Secrets, and a truer answer. I say truer, because I myself have never verified the existence of such a chamber. However, I’ll tell you what I shared with Mr. Potter, along with a few more facts that may be of interest to both of you.”

********

After the explanation, Hermione was still somewhat confused. “But, that doesn’t explain what Harry speaking Parseltongue has to do with the Chamber, and a poor girl dying outside a toilet stall fifty years ago. Although, that does explain Moaning Myrtle, I suppose. I always wondered why a ghost would haunt a lavatory, of all places!”

“As usual, Miss Granger, you have gone to the heart of the matter, and that leads us to the proposal we discussed earlier. According to my information, only a person who speaks Parseltongue can open the chamber and control the basilisk reputed to be there. As Headmaster of this school, I would prefer that we NOT have any basilisks, sleeping or awake, anywhere around here. So, I propose that the five of us here go on a “Basilisk hunt”, or, to be more precise, a “Chamber of Secrets Entrance” hunt, starting next term. I would like to see if there is any truth to these legends once and for all, and possibly correct a wrong that happened to a loyal friend of mine at the same time. How about it, Harry? Would you like to put your new-found talent to good use, and maybe even spare a few lives while you are at it?”

Harry thought for a moment. “What’s in it for me, sir? Sorry to sound so …Slytherin-like, but it sounds either a bit foolish or quite dangerous, and I’d like to know I had some reason for participating besides ‘the greater good of Hogwarts.’” This time, only Dumbledore did not seem surprised at Harry’s words. Hermione and Miss Puckle’s jaws were both open wide, and Minerva was quite taken aback.

“Of course, you’re right, Harry. Knowing the influences you have been exposed to in Slytherin house, I completely understand your point. Now, at the risk of offending others in this room, I happen to agree with what you have said to some extent.” Now, Minerva’s jaw also dropped. “Sometimes, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, especially, seem to volunteer for risky tasks or obey orders loyally without thinking, and this can be short-sighted. I would rather have people working with me who are behind me even though they are fully aware of the risks and possible rewards involved, not because they don’t know. It makes for a stronger force when things don’t go according to plan. Nobody ends up complaining that ‘they didn’t know’ at critical times. Of course, that doesn’t mean that you can share everything with everyone all the time, based on your assessment of their ability to accept all of the facts.”

“But, as to what is ‘in it for you’, Harry. Well, how about a bit of payback on the head of a certain wizard family? From what you have told me, they haven’t been too friendly to you since you rejected their invitation earlier this year. If we are successful, I am certain that this expedition will interfere with certain plans he has to remove me from my position here.”

“So, if we find this chamber during the year, it’s likely that Malfoy suffers?” Harry said with a wink and a chuckle.

Dumbledore’s mustache twitched noticeably. “Humiliations galore!”

“That is a noble cause…I’m on the job!” Harry said, finishing the scene from one of the few Muggle movies he had been able to watch while he was growing up.

Both Hermione and Miss Puckle, who recognized the reference, also were snickering into their hands, but Professor McGonagall just shook her head with amusement as she thought, <Try as I might, and as much as I enjoy working with them, I doubt I’ll ever really understand those who are Muggle-born or raised.>

“Headmaster, how will we go about this ‘search’, then? Do you have any idea where to start looking for the entrance?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, I have some ideas, but I feel it is best if we all act as if we are investigating this from the beginning. Since the three of us on staff at Hogwarts will be involved with our regular teaching and other assignments, I think it would be best to have Harry work with you to research the legends and tales to see if you can identify possible locations. I estimate that this will take much of next term as you will have to work it in with your normal course work, and two of our top students studying in the library shouldn’t draw too much attention. Besides, it may help alleviate some of the inter-house rivalry problems we have at Hogwarts. If you make any important discoveries, please let one of us know immediately. Of course, I must insist that you refrain from attempting to enter the chamber without at least one of us present, if it comes to that.”

(A/N - Hope you caught the reference to one of my personal favorite movies, which, fortunately, would fit in the right timeline for Harry and Hermione to see.)

Chapter 17 - The Hunting of the Snark…er…Basilisk

(A/N – Apologies to Lewis Carroll, but…oh, never mind.)

“Happy Christmas, sir! I didn’t expect to see you in this part of the castle today. I thought you’d be out with the students or something. What brings you to the staff quarters? Although, I’ve been meaning to ask you something…” Harmony said as she joined Albus walking down the hall.

“Oh, I’ve been notifying Gilderoy of my Christmas gift for him…or, should I say, gift return? As you agreed when I discussed this with you, he’s been behaving quite well for the entire term. I thought it would be in keeping with the season to rescind his ‘punishment’. He is aware, of course, that he is on a very short leash when it comes to re-offending, and I reminded him that you still are permitted to act as you feel appropriate if something like this happens again. Now, what is it you would like to ask me…I assume it has to do with our young Mr. Potter?”

Harmony checked to make sure that no one (or no portrait) was listening to their conversation as they stopped in the hall. “Yes, there’s just one thing. I think I know your reasoning on this, but why don’t we just tell him somehow WHERE the entrance is and get this over with? I assure you, my memory of what Harry told me about how he found the entrance is accurate.”

“Miss Puckle, you of all people should be able to understand my reasoning. As you are most aware, by this time in your timeline, Harry and you had already worked together on a number of tasks and adventures over your time here. That doesn’t even include the amount of revising and class work you did with both him and Mr. Weasley. I think that Harry needs that friendship, probably even more now that he is being more and more isolated in his own house. I am also hoping that your younger self will be a good influence on him, which he also needs; and that he will be an influence to her to be a little less…bookish, besides. Developing the kind of bond that you need to have with Harry, in this future and your past, requires more than just thinking each other is cute across the hall. Crushes like that, while not doomed to failure by themselves, have to progress beyond that point before a lasting relationship will ever form. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Of course, sir. That is exactly what your future self said would need to happen,” Harmony said as she remembered her last instructions about Harry before she traveled back in time.

“There is, of course, another reason,” he continued as they resumed their walk. “I have found that there is great value in researching a task before you undertake it. Sometimes the facts you find out during your research may be useful in ways you’ll never guess, and now that Harry and Hermione are working together to discover them, it will give them added strength. I seem to remember things I learn easier if I am around friends when I do it. By the way, have you seen Harry today? I hope he’s not planning on spending this glorious day in his room, all alone. Hmm, maybe I should invent an excuse to send Severus to check on him...”

“That’s true, in my time; he had the entire Weasley clan and me to relax with the whole break. This time, Hermione went home for Christmas, since there wasn’t the same reason to stay since Harry already knows who the Heir of Slytherin is. At least this time I won’t miss the next few weeks of class stuck in the Hospital Wing covered in fur,” Harmony remembered painfully. “But, all the Weasleys except Percy are here – too bad Harry’s not that close to any of them this time.” she said with a sigh.

“Yes, with them being in different houses, especially THOSE houses, it does seem to put a damper on friendly banter over a game of Exploding Snap in the Gryffindor Tower.” Dumbledore winked at her. “Yes, I remember that scene from your Pensieve last year – you were actually holding your own against the twins during that last match! Oh, here we are at the hall to my office. Unless there is something else, I will take my leave of you until dinner tonight. I have to check on Fawkes, you know. He’s almost fully recovered from his burning day last week.”

Harmony waved as he turned down another passage. “I may just check to see if Harry has come out of his room yet. Don’t worry; I won’t go in after him! Good day, sir! See you at dinner.”

*****

But, Harry had not left his room yet. In fact, he was not even out of bed, and had actually slept in for once. As he woke up to the sound of Hedwig hooting softly from the bedpost at the head of his bed, he was once again glad that Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle especially had gone home. He did sort of miss Blaise, but the Zabini family had been planning a trip back to visit relatives in Italy all term (which fact Harry was continually reminded of by his roommate), so for the second year running he was alone on Christmas morning. Having grown up with the Dursley’s, however, he preferred the peace and quiet instead of the tantrum extravaganza that was Dudley when he didn’t get exactly what he wanted for Christmas.

As he put on his glasses and looked around, though, he was quite surprised to see… <Presents...for me?> sitting by his bed. Hedwig had nibbled his ear affectionately, but looked slightly apologetic for the small package from the Dursley’s she had brought. <Figures… a toothpick and a note trying to get me to stay here longer. Wasn’t it a 50-pence piece last year? I shouldn’t complain, that was the only thing I got then.> But, the other presents, he noticed, were much bigger than a toothpick box. There was a long, flat, and wide box, next to a neatly wrapped parcel. He opened the first, and there was a luxury eagle-feather quill and a note, which read:

Harry,

From what I understand, you will be working extra-hard this coming year and I thought this might be useful.

A friend

He then opened the second parcel, which was very light, and something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material. He had no idea what it was, but he thought it might be a cloak, so he threw it around his shoulders. When he looked down, he let out a yell when he saw his body had disappeared wherever the cloak covered him. He ran over to the mirror, and saw that he could make his reflection vanish completely if he pulled the cloak over his head. Then, he noticed a note that had fallen on the floor. Written in narrow, loopy writing that seemed vaguely familiar, were written the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. I originally intended to give this to you last Christmas, but now it is past time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was, again, no signature. Harry felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really belonged to his father? Ever since he had found Nearly-Headless Nick floating through the castle on a Sunday morning right after Halloween and listened all day to stories of his parents, he had hungered to know more about them, to see pictures of them, anything to give his life a foundation. And now, here was a note from someone whom his father trusted enough to leave a magical cloak with, someone who was most likely a close friend of his parents, and he didn’t even know who it was! That made two Christmas presents from people who cared enough to give him something, but apparently didn’t care enough to reveal who they were to him. Harry thought to himself, “As nice as this cloak and that quill are, it would have been nicer to have friends or family to share Christmas with, I suppose, even without the gifts. Ah, well, I guess I’d better get up and see what’s happening outside. Nothing much to do until the Christmas dinner this evening – hope it was as good as last year!”

*****

After the Christmas holidays finished and the students came back to school for the beginning of second term, Harry and Hermione met together to discuss their research plans in private. Harry was shocked to see that Hermione had, over the break, developed schedules for the two of them, including free time, their regular class work, and their research on the Chamber, Harry’s Quidditch practices, and end-of-term revisions into a color-coded masterpiece. She had included both joint research and individual assignments in such a way that it wouldn’t draw too much attention to the fact that the top second-year students in Slytherin and Gryffindor were now studying together regularly. Harry was amazed. “Wow, Hermione! This is really something! How long did it take you to figure this out? Did you spend your whole holiday working on these plans?”

She sounded a little embarrassed as she said “No, of course not! …Not ALL of the holiday! My parents and I had a great Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day together, and I got some nice presents from my Muggle relatives and some Chocolate Frog cards from Ginny Weasley, too. How about you, Harry? How was your Christmas? Did you enjoy your stay at the castle?”

“I suppose…I got a toothpick and a note from the Dursley’s asking if I could stay here basically year-round, and a couple of anonymous gifts.” Harry felt bad for some reason, because he realized he hadn’t even thought of getting Hermione even so much as a toothpick, and he resolved to do better in the future.

“Oooh…anonymous gifts?” she said, obviously curious. “Maybe you have a secret admirer or something! Sounds mysterious.”

“No, one of them was a personal item of my father’s from someone who knew him. The other one was this quill I saw you admiring, and the note with it said it was from a friend who thought I might need it this year.”

“That is a beautiful quill, you know! It looks just like something I might have picked out for a friend. And, before you ask, no, it wasn’t me!” Hermione said, quickly. “But, who would know you need it this term, especially? You know, Harry, I bet that Miss Puckle sent that to you! I must say, I’m a bit jealous if I’m right about that!”

“If you like it all that much, you can have it, I suppose. Why would Miss Puckle buy me something like that? She can’t be going around buying a student expensive presents – it might get her in trouble or something.”

“Harry, that’s probably why she sent it anonymously, just so no one would think the wrong thing. And, no, of course I can’t take it – although I’d love to use it once in a while, if you don’t mind? For special assignments and things, when you’re not using it?”

“Hermione, that’s a deal! I’m not much into writing flowery love poems, you know! I don’t write many letters or anything besides homework, either, so I’m sure you’ll end up using it more than I will.”

“You could always start…er…writing letters, that is! Might be good for you! But, we’d better get going on this research plan or else we’ll never find that Chamber!”

*****

So, with a detailed plan in place, things quickly settled into a comfortable routine. The two researchers gathered all the materials they could on the legends of the Chamber, including the more outlandish ones, and started trying to make any sense out of them. Anything interesting they passed on to Miss Puckle, who ended up acting as a liaison with the Headmaster. She gave them some solid training on research methods when she could, and helped steer them away from dead-end theories without giving them too much help. A result of all this was that their scores in all their other classes also benefited immensely, and they never even flinched when either McGonagall or Snape assigned some of their more nasty essays during second year. Harry had even learned to enjoy working with the Mandrakes in Professor Sprout’s class, and, although he would never be as talented with plants as Neville Longbottom, at least he was comfortable with the subject.

Sometimes, when Harry would come into the library, he would see Ginny Weasley and her brother Ron being tutored by Hermione, and he saw how much she enjoyed helping other students. “She’d make a great teacher some day, just like Miss Puckle, if she wants to…but then, I think she’ll do well at anything she chooses.”

Harry had also noticed that Professor Lockhart seemed to be enjoying life a lot more this term than he had before. Some of the “old Lockhart” from his books started to surface, and Harry’s DADA training suffered as a result. Things started looking very bad when Lockhart had the nerve to recruit dwarfs to dress up as Cupids to pass out Valentine’s cards. (“Glad I didn’t get one…I think I would have died of embarrassment!” Harry thought) and went downhill from there. “Wonder what’s got into him?” he wondered after a particularly dreadful re-enactment of the Defeat of the Wagga-Wagga Werewolf in early March. “I’d bet he hasn’t even BEEN to Australia!”

On a Saturday in early May, however, after returning from watching a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Harry was surprised to receive a note from the Headmaster, asking him to meet with him in private right after he finished with his lunch.

“What is it, sir?” he asked as he greeted Dumbledore at the head table. “Is something wrong?”

“Let’s go to my office first, Harry. I need to tell you something for your ears alone.” Dumbledore said, with a concerned look on his face. They walked in silence until they were in Dumbledore’s study. “Harry, some associates of mine with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have, only this morning, heard rumors of an attack this evening of some kind aimed directly at you. I cannot tell you who these associates are, but rest assured the information has now been verified. Unfortunately, we do not know the form this attack will take, but between you and me, I feel it has something to do with your research into the Chamber, and the attempt being made to remove me from my position at Hogwarts.”

“So, getting to the point, you think tonight’s the night that Mr. Malfoy is going to try to force me to open the chamber somehow, use the Basilisk to get someone killed, and then blame it on you?”

“Very good, Harry. That about sums it up. Now, the question is, what do we do about it? Did Hermione come up with any options on how to deal with this situation?”

“No, sir, but I have thought about it on my own for quite a while, and I think I’ve got a plan. You may think it’s silly, but…”

******

After he heard the plan, Dumbledore’s eyes were quite merry. “Oh, Harry…If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were related to the Weasley twins! Come to think of it, this is a plan worthy of your father and his …associates on their best day. Yes, although it does have its risks, I think that we should proceed. I assume you will take advantage of properties of my Christmas present to you, then?”

“You…you sent the cloak to me?” Harry said, quite surprised.

“Yes, your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it. Useful things…your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here, as I recall. I didn’t give it to you last year because I wanted to get to know your character a little more before I entrusted you with this tool, which you may have used inappropriately. And, in case you were wondering, I didn’t tell you who it was from because it is a VERY expensive gift, and some of your schoolmates may think I was showing favoritism if they saw my name on the card. But, since it truly belonged to you already, I felt it was appropriate for me to return it to you.”

“Yeah, I can see how some of my fellow students would want to put it to use, based on their claims in the common room. The cloak would make it quite a bit easier to get away with certain nocturnal activities.” Harry blushed a little as he thought of just what activities they were referring to. “But, I’ve only used it to go to the library after hours a few times, and to get away from Draco when he’s being annoying, or to just go for a walk when I can’t sleep some nights.” Harry then noticed the time. “Headmaster, sir, if both your clock and your information are correct, I’d better get to Professor Snape’s office right away to make the necessary preparations.”

“By the time you get there, I will have notified him to expect you. Be careful, Harry, and don’t get too cocky. Just because I am confident that this will work doesn’t mean you can be careless.” Dumbledore admonished, gently. “Do you want some assistance from anyone…Miss Puckle or Hermione, perhaps? They can confirm you are doing the necessary charms properly. It wouldn’t do to have this plan fail based on an improper wand movement or mis-spoken word!”

“No, sir, I am quite sure I know what to do. When I first found out about these charms, I made it a point to ask Miss Puckle about them early last term, and I got very good with them during our extra classes. I’d better get going… and, sir, thanks for the cloak!” Harry said with a wave.

*******

Later that evening, it was a very embarrassed Lucius Malfoy who stood before a bemused Dumbledore and an unhappy head of Slytherin house in his study. “I’m curious, Lucius. First, what business did you have in the castle tonight? Even though you are on the Board of Governors, I would expect you to have the common courtesy to notify me when you are coming to visit so I could have welcomed you properly. But, more importantly, I still do not understand WHY Severus caught you in the act of repeatedly performing an Imperius Curse on a lifelike representation of one of our students? I find your explanation a bit lacking in detail, and I’d like to make sure I’m hearing all the facts. Fortunately, since there was no harm done to a fellow human being, we won’t be conducting a trial for you at this time.”

After arriving at Professor Snape’s office, Harry had immediately headed towards the “contraband” storage closet where his head of house had stored the components of the “Potter dummy” that Draco had animated at the beginning of the year. He had quickly re-animated it, updated its appearance to match his current look, and taught it to speak in his voice again. Then, he hid under the Invisibility Cloak and followed along behind it, using his wand to control its movements, just like a fisherman trolling for his catch with live bait. When they were walking along a secluded hall, Harry’s prey struck. Fortunately, Severus had just happened to be out for his nightly rounds and heard the commotion. The decoy, instead of speaking Parseltongue, was heard yelling rude comments concerning the Malfoy family at the top of its magically amplified voice. Lucius was so intent on recasting the spell that he failed to notice Snape until he was fully wrapped up with magical ropes. Harry, safely hidden under the cloak, was barely able to keep from laughing out loud at the sight of Snape floating Mr. Malfoy towards the Headmaster’s office, especially when he saw Severus “accidentally” drop him on the stone floor a few times. “Quit struggling, Mr. Malfoy!” Severus said with a wry grin. “You are making it very difficult for me to control your direction.”

The end result was that Lucius, nursing a sore head, was escorted quickly from the grounds by a group of powerful-looking Aurors who had been visiting Hogwarts that evening at Albus’s invitation. As they started through the front door, Harry, looking very innocent, was coincidentally walking through the Entrance Hall at that moment. “Mark my words, Potter! I know you had something to do with all of this. I’m not done with you yet!” Malfoy snarled. “Who do you think gave my idiot son the idea to create that dummy in the first place?”

Harry looked at Lucius with a suitably puzzled expression. “What are you talking about, sir? I’ve been in the library since lunch. End-of-term exams are coming next month, you know!”

*********

During the next few weeks, though, exams were not the most important thing on Harry and Hermione’s mind. Their research had narrowed the possibilities for the chamber entrance to a specific hallway on the first floor, in the general vicinity of a girl’s lavatory. They had figured this out by plotting all the known attacks on students each time the chamber had been opened, and, combining that information with the assumed speed of a basilisk on the hunt, were able to identify a possible entry point into the castle. One day, as they were reviewing their map of the attacks, Hermione was first to notice an interesting fact about that lavatory. “Wait…I know that place. That’s…Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory – no one ever goes down there more than once, that’s why I didn’t see the connection before. Oh, that makes sense! She must have been in there right when the basilisk came out! Harry, I think we’ve found it! The entrance has to be somewhere in there. Let’s go tell Dumbledore right away!”

But, as they were running to his office, they almost bowled over Miss Puckle as they came around a corner. “Slow down, you two! Where are you headed in such a hurry?”

They quickly explained what they had discovered, and Harmony couldn’t help smiling widely. “Very good! You know, I think you may just be right about that. But, I’m sorry to say, both the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall were called to the Ministry today for some school business. It’s something to do with finalizing the upcoming O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examination questions and schedules, I think. They will be gone until sometime tomorrow evening, in fact. But, I’m curious about this discovery of yours, I think it would be a good idea to go there and investigate your theory about the Chamber.”

“Theory, Miss Puckle? What theory is that? May I be of assistance?” the voice of the person they would want least to assist them, that of Gilderoy Lockhart, spoke from behind them. “Chamber, you say? Surely you don’t mean that old chestnut about the Chamber of Secrets! Codswallop, I say! If there was such a place, I’m sure I’d have been able to find it by now! I was asked to participate in the last expedition to find the Chamber, you know! Never found a thing.”

“Oh, really, Gilderoy?” Miss Puckle said with a smirk. “Then, you wouldn’t be interested in any publicity that may come if and when we do find the Chamber entrance, and verify once and for all what terrors may lie within? I mean, since you are the DADA professor at Hogwarts, I’m sure it would be a rather impressive story for your next book, not to mention it would probably keep you employed here for the rest of your life – you know, a reward for services to a grateful school, and all that!” She really would have preferred anyone else to accompany them, but she figured he would have to do under the circumstances.

“Hmmm, yes, you’re right” He muttered mostly to himself as he was in deep thought. “I’m sure I could milk that story for …yes, that would be a good tale for future generations. But, what were you saying about ‘terrors that lie within’? Do you think that the tales of the Basilisk may be true?”

“I guess we’ll just have to go find out. First, we have to see if the entrance even exists, and then we can go hunting the Basilisk if it comes to that.” Miss Puckle saw that he was wavering between the temptation of the possible glory and the fear of the possible risk, so she decided to help him make up his mind. “Of course, if you’re too scared to go somewhere with two second-year students and a lowly assistant professor, I’m sure your fans will understand.”

“Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin 3rd class and Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, scared? Rubbish, my dear! Lead on, then! I’ll be right behind the three of you – protecting your back, you know.”

However, the size and makeup of the group of explorers heading towards the first floor girl’s lavatory didn’t go unnoticed. <Wonder what that lot’s up to?> Ginny Weasley said to herself as they passed. <Miss Puckle and Gilderoy Lockhart, with Harry and Hermione, too? Not a group you’d normally expect to be going anywhere together. Hmm, I’d better see what’s up!> she thought as she followed quietly behind them.

Of course, Gilderoy, who might have noticed they were being followed had he been paying attention, by this time was reminiscing on the last time he went hunting a basilisk. “Oh, yes, I have lots of experience with these foul creatures. I considered going into the basilisk hunting business full-time when I was younger, you know, but I felt my many talents were too precious to focus on so narrow a specialty. Why, I remember, right after I left Hogwarts, I was called to investigate a reported basilisk in a castle in Germany, it was…” and he went on to describe, in great detail, how he had defeated the largest basilisk known to man by the skillful use of a mirror and a blindfold.

By this time, they had reached the doorway to Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory. “Come on, you two, don’t be shy – there are no girls in there. It’s okay for you to come in.” Hermione said as she and Miss Puckle opened the door and walked in, ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign. Harry was pleased to see that Lockhart was shaking.

It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Harry had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden door to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it she said, “Hello, Myrtle, how are you?”

Harry and Lockhart went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.

“This is a girl’s bathroom,” she said, eyeing Lockhart and Harry suspiciously. “They’re not girls.”

“No,” Hermione agreed. “I just wanted you to meet them. We’d like to ask you a question, Myrtle.”

“I don’t believe you. No one ever wants to ask me anything. They just want to throw things through me, or tease me, or talk about me behind my back.”

“No, that’s not why we’re here, Myrtle! We need to know something…about you!’ Miss Puckle said quickly.

“About me? No one cares about me!” she looked at them suspiciously. “What…what is it you want to know?”

“We’d like to ask you how you died,” said Harry.

Myrtle’s whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question. She told them the whole story about Olive Hornby and the big, yellow eyes that she saw.

“Where exactly did you see the eyes?” said Harry.

“Somewhere there,” said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Harry and Hermione hurried over to it. Lockhart was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face, while Miss Puckle watched him with increasing disdain.

It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Harry saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.

“That tap’s never worked,” said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it.

“Harry,” said Hermione. “Say something. Something in Parseltongue.”

“But -” Harry thought hard. The only times he’d ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when he’d been faced with a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real.

“Open up,” he said.

He looked at Hermione, who shook her head.

“English,” she said.

Harry looked back at the snake, willing himself to believe it was alive. If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look as though it were moving.

“Open up,” he said.

Except that the words weren’t what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

Harry heard Lockhart gasp and looked up again. He had made up his mind what he was going to do.

“I’m going down there,” he said.

“Me too,” said Hermione.

There was a pause.

“Well, you hardly seem to need me,” said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. I’ll just-”

He put his hand on the door knob, but Miss Puckle pointed her wand at him. “You can go first,” she said firmly. “I’d like to keep you in front of me right now.”

White-faced, Lockhart approached the opening. “Miss Puckle, my dear, what good will it do?”

Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.

“I really don’t think -” he started to say, but Hermione gave him a push, and he slid out of sight. Harry followed quickly. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then let go.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. <Hmm, those pipes must be how the basilisk gets around the castle.> Behind him he could hear Hermione and Miss Puckle, thudding slightly at the curves.

As they reached the end of the entranceway, the four explorers lit their wands and had begun to explore their surroundings. “Harry – there’s something up there -”, said Hermione, grabbing Harry’s shoulder. “Remember,” Miss Puckle said, “any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…”

The light from Harry’s wand slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least. “Well, at least we know there’s something down here!” Hermione observed. “And, from the looks of this skin, it is a basilisk. Guess the story wasn’t a chestnut, after all!”

There was a sudden movement behind them. Gilderoy Lockhart’s knees had given way. “Get up,” said Harmony sharply, pointing her wand at Lockhart. “And, don’t even think about trying to take this wand. You really don’t want a repeat of what happened last September if Albus hears you were misbehaving, now, do you?” Gilderoy immediately froze, certain painful memories coming back full-force. He sat down heavily on the bone-strewn floor, looking rather dejected.

“Go on, Harry,” Miss Puckle said. “Let’s see where this tunnel goes. I’ll keep an eye on this git, but you lead out, and the rest of us will follow as far as we can. Now that we’re here, we might as well make the most of it.”

After walking quite a way down the tunnel, he finally saw something interesting ahead. There was a solid wall on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

“This must be the entrance,” he said to the other three. “I really don’t want to have to drag him around if there’s a basilisk in there. Why don’t the two of you keep an eye on him, while I go check out what’s in there. If I need any help, I’ll yell for you to come in.” Gilderoy seemed quite relieved that he wouldn’t have to travel any further, but Hermione and Harmony both protested.

“Harry, you shouldn’t face this by yourself!” “Let at least one of us come with you!” they pleaded.

Harry held up his hand, indicating he wasn’t negotiating this one. “No, since I’m the only one who can speak Parseltongue, I am the one that is most useful against a Basilisk. Apparently Mr. Malfoy was confident enough in my abilities to control it that he was willing to try to force me to come down here and try. I promise, I’ll get out of there quickly if I see anything that even looks like a basilisk!”

They finally agreed that his reasoning made sense, so Harry approached the wall, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; there eyes looked strangely alive.

He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

“Open,” said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

*******

After a few minutes of waiting in the lavatory for someone to come back, Ginny finally got up her courage and walked over to the opening. She had hidden at the door, watching the whole time as the others had slid through the entrance to the chamber. <That looks interesting, wonder where it leads to? Guess there’s only one way to find out.>, and she also entered the pipe.

(A/N – Sorry for the longer direct quotes and “slightly modified” quotes from COS, but I think that JKR’s descriptions are better than anything I can come up with. I am using the Scholastic US Hardbound Edition, © 1998.)

Chapter 18 – Reconciliations

(A/N –This is the last chapter of the Year 2 events in this time loop; coincidentally, Chapter 18 was the end of COS in canon – no, I didn’t plan it that way! Of course, the reference for COS is the same as at the end of Chapter 17.)

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish glow that filled the place.

He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, remembering Miss Puckle’s warning to shut his eyes at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard’s sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And, lying between the feet, Harry saw a tightly sealed roll of parchment. When he picked it up, he saw that it was covered with drawings of basilisks and other serpents, but he did not see any way to open it.

“Hmm, it’s worked twice already today, let’s give it a go one more time,” he thought to himself. “Open,” said Harry, the proper hiss coming to his lips quickly. Immediately, the parchment unsealed itself with a flash and unrolled in his hand. There was a date at the top indicating a year some fifty years previous. He began to read:

Greetings,

If you are reading this message, welcome to the Chamber of Secrets, fellow Parselmouth, whoever you are! I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four, have spent years searching for this legendary, glorious place hidden within Hogwarts, and I finally succeeded in opening the Chamber. Now that I have been prevented from finishing Salazar Slytherin’s noble work by the meddling of a Mudblood loving Transfiguration Professor, I have provided a means for someone else to follow in my footsteps. I assume you have been led here by the diary -

<Diary? What diary?> Harry thought. <Wonder what that’s about?>

- which I created to record, among other things, the details of my research and the discovery of this chamber. Of course, in case that method was unsuccessful, I have also left instructions with a few intimate associates. They will pass the diary and the instructions down within their circle of like-minded friends and family until the time is right for the Chamber to be opened and the Final Solution to the Mudblood infestation at Hogwarts to be released. By opening this parchment using Parseltongue, you have begun the process of awakening Salazar’s pride and joy, his own pet Basilisk. Only a true Parselmouth will be able to enter the chamber and control the beast to have it do your bidding.

I am Lord Voldemort

As Harry read the signature, he noticed that the order of the letters was changing as he watched from “I am Lord Voldemort” to “Tom Marvolo Riddle”, and back again. <So, Lord Voldemort was originally called Tom Riddle? This is really strange! Bet he wouldn’t be too happy if he knew that I was the one who found this note, seeing as the last time we met he didn’t come out of it too well.> He rolled up the parchment and put it in his robes. <I bet Hermione would like to see that!> But then, a sound brought him back to remember his current situation. As he looked up to Slytherin’s statue, <- So that’s what he looked like -what an ugly bloke…looks just like a monkey…> he saw the mouth was opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole, and something was stirring inside the statue’s mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

<Uh…oh…better get out of here…FAST!> and he headed back towards the entrance. Apparently he hadn’t been seen, as he saw the basilisk entering one of the many pipes leading from the chamber towards the school. <Great…now I’ve done it! I’ve released the basilisk into the school! I’d better go see if I can track it down somehow. If only Dumbledore were here! He’d know what to do!> HERMIONE, MISS PUCKLE, IT’S COMING…

********

Hermione stared through the recently opened portal at Harry’s retreating figure. “I hope he knows what he’s doing, Harmony!” she said to her friend as she guarded Lockhart. “Maybe I should go in after him.”

Before Miss Puckle could say anything, though, they heard a very faint voice echoing softly down the passageway they had recently traveled down. “Hello…hello? Anyone here? Hermione? Harry? Miss Puckle?...Professor Lockhart, even? …Anybody here? Hello?”

“Miss Puckle? That sounds like…Ginny! How did SHE get down here?” Hermione said.

“I don’t know, but you better go find her before she gets lost. Hurry, Hermione! I’ll be fine with this…prat.” Harmony jabbed him with her wand as she said this.

Hermione paused for a second until she saw the look of determination on Miss Puckle’s face, and she quickly retraced their steps back towards the basilisk skin.

As soon as she was out of sight, Gilderoy, with a knowing wink, turned to Miss Puckle. “So, my dear Harmony…you just couldn’t wait to get me alone, could you! How convenient that Miss Weasley showed up when she did, eh? Although, I’m sure you were just about ready to send Miss Granger off to help Mr. Potter, anyway. Either way, we’re finally alone, here in the dark, just the two of us…I commend you on your restraint since the beginning of the term, knowing as you did that the headmaster had …restored…my abilities?”

As the shock left Harmony’s face and she realized he was serious, the fire in her eyes started building. Unfortunately for Gilderoy, he assumed that it was the fire of passion that she was expressing, so he continued with his pursuit. “I see it in your eyes, my dear…you can’t deny it…you’ve been wanting to get me alone ever since you knew about my restoration, haven’t you?” And with that, he made the last mistake he would ever remember making around Miss Puckle – he reached his hand towards a certain part of her anatomy that she wasn’t at all willing to have him investigate. “Why…you…IDIOT!” she screamed. “Well, Albus warned you! And with that, she raised her wand high over her head, yelled, “Obliviate!” and there was a bright flash as Gilderoy’s memories were no more.

*****

Hermione, meanwhile, had come upon Ginny tearfully stumbling down the passageway in the dark. “Ginny, WHAT are you doing here? You shouldn’t be down here, you know! Why did you come down here?” And, why didn’t you light your wand?” she said harshly.

“I…I…I’m sss-sorry, Hermione!” Ginny sobbed. “I …I saw all of you…heading towards the first floor, and I wondered what you were doing…so I followed you. I…saw you go down that pipe, and you didn’t come back, and I was worried, so I followed you down here…and there were…bones, and skulls, and that huge…snakeskin! Why’d it have to be snakes? I hate snakes, Hermione! I was afraid…if I lit my wand, the snake would be able to see me.”

“Hush, Ginny…its okay now, I’m here! Don’t worry; we’ll get out of here!” Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug and said, soothingly, “Miss Puckle and Harry are up ahead, and together we’ll find a way back out of here.”

But then, they heard a slithering sound coming from a nearby passage. “Quick, Ginny”, Hermione whispered as she pointed to a nearby column, “behind here! Don’t worry about that puddle – it’s not deep. Now MOVE! We have to hide! And Ginny, whatever you do, don’t look into its eyes!”

“Eyes…Hermione, what are you talking about? What’s down here?” Ginny whimpered.

“Never mind that…I’m sure you don’t want to know. Just keep your eyes closed as much as you can! Just a minute, let me get out my pocket mirror. Then, I can see if it’s coming.”

*******

“HERMIONE, MISS PUCKLE, IT’S COMING…” Harmony heard Harry’s voice as he ran towards the entrance.

“Get up, you pathetic piece of …OOOOH!” Miss Puckle was still fuming as she poked Gilderoy in the side with her wand.

As Harry came through the door, he distinctly heard a dull thud, followed by a loud yelp from Lockhart. “MISS PUCKLE! Did you …just kick Professor Lockhart in the shins?”

“Erm…well, no…it wasn’t his shins I kicked…” she said impishly, as Lockhart was doubled over in pain, dry heaving and trying unsuccessfully to catch his breath. Harry realized what he had just heard, and winced. “Here, grab his arm…I assume from what you were just saying, that we need to leave here in a hurry? Sorry, Harry, but I’m not all that keen on letting that…OOOH…touch me!” she screamed in frustration.

Harry was struggling to try to drag Gilderoy along the passageway back to the entrance. Harmony finally calmed down enough to come up with a solution. She put Gilderoy in a full body bind and levitated him in front of them. “At least I don’t have to touch him this way. Oh, so sorry…did that hurt, Professor Lockhart?” she said, her voice sickeningly sweet. “It’s just too bad it’s so dark down here…I can’t seem to see all those rocks and things in the way.”

“Miss Puckle…what happened?” Harry was very puzzled by her behavior. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn she was taking as much pleasure in transporting Professor Lockhart as roughly as Professor Snape had done with Lucius Malfoy. “Why are you doing all this to Professor Lockhart?”

“Oh, never mind that, Harry. Let’s just say that Gilderoy’s recently decided to resign his position at Hogwarts as a result of premature…memory loss, and I’m just helping him return to clean out his quarters and his office. I’m sure you will greatly prefer Albus’s replacement for next year…whoever it is!” she added quickly.

By this time, they were nearly back to the entrance. Miss Puckle explained the situation to Harry. “Right after you entered the Chamber, we thought we heard Ginny Weasly’s voice. Somehow she must have followed us down here. I sent Hermione to collect her so she wouldn’t get lost, and I hoped they would wait here until we got back. Now, what happened to you? I assume, from what you were yelling as you came out, that you found the basilisk?”

“Yes, but what’s worse, is it is awake and probably heading for the castle as we stand here. And, I released it! It’s all my fault, Miss Puckle! I’ve got to stop it! I can’t let it kill anyone this time! It has been trained to go after…well, Mudbloods…sorry, Miss Puckle, no offense!” he said, guiltily.

“None taken, Harry. I know that you’re not caught up in all that pureblood garbage”, she smiled reassuringly. “Now, where did those girls get off to?”

“Miss Puckle, over there, by that column…what’re those…robes…doing there? Wait, there’s someone in them…red hair? …Ginny…? HERMIONE? …NO!” he yelled as he got close enough to see the two girls, lying stiffly next to each other in a shallow puddle of water.

“Calm down, Mr. Potter! Don’t worry, I’ve been through something like this before, so I recognize the symptoms. Look, Hermione’s still holding a mirror, and Ginny must have seen the reflection in the water when she was hiding behind Hermione. It’s okay, Harry! Trust me! They’re still alive, just petrified, and we’ll be able to revive them as soon as we get them back to the castle.”

There was an unexplained anger in Harry’s eyes, but also a flutter of fear remaining in his heart from when he had first seen Hermione, and Ginny, too, lying there just now. Only Harmony’s assurances had calmed him down enough to speak coherently. “But, we have to stop the basilisk first!” Harry said, with steel in his voice.

“Yes, Harry, but that is a task for you to handle, I’m afraid. I have injured students here that I am responsible for as a teacher. And, call it a hunch, but I just have a feeling that you are best equipped to handle this situation. Just think about it, Harry, and I’m sure what you need will come to you. Now, let’s get the girls out of the water and over by the pipe we came in from, and I’ll take care of this group.”

Harry knew there was only one thing left for him to do after they had moved the frozen students next to Gilderoy, who was completely oblivious to his surroundings. “Wait here, then. I’ll go look for the beast…if I’m not back in an hour…”

There was a very pregnant pause.

Harmony kept her voice very steady. “Don’t worry, Harry, we’ll be fine, and I have confidence you will be, too. Loyalty and bravery such as yours will always be rewarded.”

“See you in a bit,” said Harry, trying to absorb some of Miss Puckle’s confidence into his soul. “I last saw the beast back in the Chamber, no better place to start looking for it, I suppose. I’ll just have to follow his tracks from there.”

*****

As he passed back through the Chamber door, trying to keep his eyes as tightly closed as he could while he moved quite a bit more cautiously towards Slytherin’s statue, he was still unsure what he would do if he actually found the creature. <Now, what was Gilderoy saying, something about a mirror and a blindfold? Guess I should have borrowed Hermione’s… although it didn’t seem to help her too much!>

And then, before he knew it, he heard something huge moving towards him through the Chamber. He could hear the basilisk’s heavy body slithering across the dusty floor. Eyes tightly shut, Harry began to run blindly sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way. He tripped and fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood – the serpent was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming –

There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars – He couldn’t help it – he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.

<Fawkes? What is Dumbledore’s phoenix doing down here?> Watch out, Fawkes!” Harry yelled. But Fawkes was too fast for the large creature, and soon Harry saw that Fawkes had successfully punctured both of its yellow eyes, now streaming dark blood. But, the basilisk was still a threat as its head weaved drunkenly, trying to find Harry by smell.

“Help me, help me,” Harry muttered wildly, “someone – anyone –”

The snake’s tail whipped across the floor again. Harry ducked. Something soft hit his face. When he saw what it was, he was very confused. “The…Sorting Hat? How did that get down here? I wish it was big enough to crawl in…” but he rammed it on his head, more out of frustration than anything, and threw himself flat on the floor to dodge the basilisk’s tail.

Help me – help me - Harry thought, his eyes screwed tight under the hat. Please help me –

There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly.

Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of Harry’s head, almost knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it. A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat…

****

As soon as they were dropped off by Fawkes in Myrtle’s bathroom, Miss Puckle had immediately levitated the two frozen girls and Lockhart to the Hospital Wing as Harry headed for Dumbledore’s office. They had been able to rig harnesses so Harry was able to carry Hermione and Miss Puckle, Ginny; with Gilderoy grabbing on to Harry’s leg. Since Harmony refused to let Lockhart anywhere near her, she had taken hold of Fawkes’ feathers with one hand while holding Ginny in the other, and Harry had grabbed, somewhat embarrassed, onto the hem of her robes with his free hand as they ascended. “Don’t worry, Harry. I trust you to not take a peek at my knickers while you’re down there, but that git won’t bother you any. I’d probably want to accidentally kick him loose.”

****

“So, Harry, it appears that we have a problem to resolve, and I would like you to have a say in it. Apparently the Sorting Hat may have made a mistake in your house assignment, based on what you have just told me happened to you in the Chamber.” Dumbledore’s kindly voice sounded in the office. “Fortunately, I had to return to Hogwarts early because I had accidentally left some important documents behind, so I was here when you came by.”

“Why do you say that, sir? What does killing a basilisk have to do with my house assignment?” Harry was puzzled.

Dumbledore reached across to his desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword (which he had placed on top of an old diary of Tom Riddle’s that he had shown to Harry when it had been mentioned during his story), and handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.

Godric Gryffindor.

“I have it on the highest authority that only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry,” said Dumbledore simply. “Therefore, I leave it up to you. Do you want to stay in your present house assignment, or would you like to give it a try in Gryffindor? Under the circumstances, we’d make the necessary arrangements to house you in the tower.”

Harry seemed stunned. “Me…a Gryffindor, sir? I don’t know…that would be different! That would mean I’d be…with Hermione and…the Weasley’s, wouldn’t it? And, I dare say, I’d probably have a pretty good shot at making their Quidditch team as a Seeker, if their last match is any indication. 300 to 10, wasn’t it? But, come to think of it, I suppose I can just sit tight where I am after Draco’s last foul-up – not seeing the snitch until the Ravenclaw Seeker grabbed it from right under his foot…”

After a pause, he continued. “Actually, sir, I still think I’d like to stick with Slytherin House. I mean, Professor Snape’s not a bad head of house, unless you get on his bad side, I mean! And, if I leave, what will happen to the Slytherins who are trying to get out from under Draco’s thumb? They’ll not have an easy go of it, that’s for sure. I think I can help them better if I stay where I am.”

Dumbledore’s mustache crinkled merrily. “Harry, I’m proud of you. Again you are proving what I have always taught – that it is our choices that show us what we truly are, far more than our abilities. You have chosen the harder road, but you have done it for only the best of reasons – for the welfare of others. I commend you for your choice! But, for now, I need to send this interesting document that you recovered from the Chamber to Cornelius Fudge, who is the Minister of Magic if you were not aware. This proves that our gamekeeper Hagrid is completely innocent of the charges that got him expelled so long ago, as I knew all along. It also appears that I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too,” he added thoughtfully. “We’ll need a new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher…Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don’t we? By the way, Harry, before you go, I wish to thank you for all you have done for Hogwarts today, and for my friend Hagrid, too. I’m sure that the kindness you have done today will help you somehow in the future.”

Harry got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

“Why, good evening, Lucius, what a surprise! But, once again, I must ask why the unexpected visit? I thought we discussed the appropriate protocol during your last visit, didn’t we?” Dumbledore said pleasantly.

“As a member of the Board of Governors, I have a right to be involved when there is an attack on students, do I not, Headmaster?” Lucius said in his most silky voice.

“Well, that is true, Lucius, although last time, if I remember correctly, you were the one who was doing the attacking, now weren’t you?” Dumbledore chuckled, but his smile did not extend to his eyes.

Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury. “So – have you stopped this latest round of attacks yet?”, he sneered. “Have you caught the culprit?”

“We have,” said Dumbledore, with a smile.

“Well?” said Mr. Malfoy sharply. “Who is it?”

“The same person as last time, Lucius,” said Dumbledore. “But this time, Lord Voldemort had attempted to act through someone else by means of this diary, which, as you can see, I have rendered harmless. Having failed in that attempt, there were other plans made to achieve the same results, but fortunately, Mr. Potter was not recruited to this cause.”

He held up the small black book with a large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby …

*****

Harry had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pajamas, and the celebration lasted all night. Harry didn’t know whether the best bit was Hermione running toward him, screaming “You did it! You killed the basilisk and you rescued us!”, or the two quite unexpected things that happened next.

First, he was surprised to see Ron Weasley come up to him, looking quite embarrassed. Eventually, he cleared his throat nervously and said in a quiet voice, “Thanks, Potter, for …well, for rescuing my sister. She’s the only girl in the Weasley family for quite some time, and I’m sure Mum would blame me somehow if she had gotten hurt or something.” Harry shook the offered hand firmly and said, “Anytime, Ron. Sorry that she got mixed up in all this, but I’m glad she’s fine.” Ginny had come over, too, and added her thanks, giving Harry a very quick hug before she ran off, blushing quite red.

The second incident was completely unexpected, however. Rubeus Hagrid, the one person who Harry owed his whole existence at Hogwarts to, came over to thank him also. Harry had spent very little time with Hagrid since he had been at school, because he didn’t have much interest in Hagrid’s particular assignments around the castle.

“Thanks, Harry, for finally findin’ that parchment an’ provin’ that i’ twern’t me that done it, all them years ago! Jus’ wait ‘til I tell Aragog what you done! I’m sure he’ll be glad tha’ you killed th’ basilisk, too!” he said, as he slapped Harry so hard on the shoulders that he was knocked into his plate of trifle.

Soon afterwards, Dumbledore made the announcement that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back, not to mention the healing of parts that apparently had been damaged quite severely recently. As she winked at Harry, Miss Puckle seemed to lead the cheering that greeted this news.

****

Too soon, the Hogwarts Express pulled into King’s Cross Station and the students started to disembark. Hermione walked with him towards the barrier. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, Harry?”

“Hey, I survived last summer break, barely. I mean, another two months with Dudley can’t be much worse than being in the same room with Draco for an entire school year. You know, maybe I should reconsider Dumbledore’s offer…”

“What about your aunt and uncle? Won’t they be proud to hear what you did this year?”

“Proud?” said Harry. “Are you crazy? Being bitten by a seriously dangerous beast that kills people on sight, and I didn’t even manage to snuff it? They’ll be furious…”

And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.

*****End of YEAR TWO****

(A/N –Thanks to a suggestion by one of my faithful reviewers, Zerberus, I added Tom’s full name to the letter he left in the chamber – I thought it sounded better that way. You may also notice that Ginny has two lines which are quotes from an old favorite movie of mine. The quote has been fixed from the original post to to more closely match the original reference – it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out the movie.)

Chapter 19 – More Surprises

(A/N –Now to some “unfinished business” from Chapter 18 that came out of some of the original reviews…1. How did A.D. end up neutralizing the diary? 2. (a less important one) was concerning the parchment that Harry found in the chamber. What would have happened to it in the canon timeline? Here are the answers that I had as part of my “back-story” thinking: 1) – My assumption was that Albus had access through his connections to other sources of basilisk venom, so he basically duplicated Harry’s solution although without the risk of getting bitten while he was doing it. Remember, he said to Harmony in Chapter 11 - “Yes, I agree, I’d prefer to come up with a solution that isn’t quite so…risky, at that.”

That does remind me of another little plot issue that may not be clear to some readers: 1A) Why did Fawkes come to help Harry? Answer – Read Chapter 11 again – Dumbledore was told by Harmony about what had happened originally, so Albus had instructed Fawkes to “keep an eye” on Harry in case he was needed and Harmony was aware of this. As Harmony said to Harry in Chapter 18 – “Just think about it, Harry, and I’m sure what you need will come to you.”

2) My idea on the parchment was that if this were part of COS canon, Tom would have had Ginny dispose of the parchment since it wasn’t needed under the circumstances. That leads me to one more reminder that came out of some apparent confusion as to whether Dobby was freed in Ch 18. Yes, he was! As I stated in a previous author note, I do not intend to type in LONG sections of canon materials where the basic facts are no different in this timeline, except to show where things synch up and where they are different. I will try to do a better job of identifying where things are the same in my story as in canon [with the ***** marks] – so you just need to re-read the appropriate section in canon to see what happened. Enough Author notes – on with the story!)

After completing his late-night essay work, Harry stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table. It was one o’clock in the morning. Harry’s stomach gave a funny jolt. He had been thirteen years old, without realizing it, for a whole hour. <Well,> he thought to himself as he looked out the window, <I wonder what strange thing is going to happen on my birthday this year? Two years ago, I met Hagrid, last year I met Dobby and got locked in my bedroom for a while…Hmm, what’s that?>

Silhouetted against the golden moon and growing larger every moment, was one, no two owls flapping towards him, both carrying packages. <Hey, that’s Hedwig! Wonder where she’s been for so long? And, a Hogwarts owl, from the looks of that letter. Oh, yeah, it’s time for the third year letter! Why would they be sending me a package, though?>

As the school owl, relieved of its letter and package, left through the window, Harry picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought. Inside this there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, from Hermione? <Wonder why she’s sending me a birthday present? I’ve never sent her anything – in fact, I’m not really sure when her birthday is?> But, as he read, he realized he would have to do something about that soon.

Dear Harry,

Since Miss Puckle ‘stole’ my birthday present idea with her Christmas present to you last year, I thought I would try something a little different. Now, before you say “I shouldn’t have” or some such rot, listen up, Potter – This is a thank-you present for helping save my life and Ginny’s, not to mention getting rid of that basilisk and making Hogwarts safer for those of us “lower-class” students. So, don’t you dare try to return it! Also, please don’t let any of my housemates know who gave it to you – I might be accused of ‘fraternizing with the enemy’ or some such nonsense!

Just to let you know, I’m on holiday in France at the moment and I didn’t know how I was going to send this to you - what if they opened it at customs? – but then, your owl Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I’ve been getting it delivered; it’s so good to keep up with what’s going on in the wizarding world). Since I doubt you are getting the news, I thought you might be interested to know that the Weasleys won the annual Daily Prophet draw for 700 galleons, and they went to Egypt on vacation with the winnings. I hope that Ron is paying attention to the fascinating history of the Egyptian wizards, but, knowing him, he’s probably more concerned with taking the mickey out of his brothers. I’ll ask Ginny when she gets back if she took good notes, at least!

There’s some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I’ve rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I’ve found out. I hope it’s not too long – it’s two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.

I am planning on being back in London the last week of the holidays to purchase my school supplies for this year. Can you make it to Diagon Alley then? I’m sure there will be lots of Hogwarts students and teachers there – might be fun to get together with a few of them. If your aunt and uncle will let you come, I’ll see you there. If not, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first! (Don’t be late this time, Potter! I doubt if Snape will be as forgiving as last year!)

Love from

Hermione

P.S. Ginny told me that her brother Percy will be Head Boy this year – I’ll bet Percy’s really pleased, but Ginny says that Ron and the twins don’t seem to be too happy about it.

Harry laughed as he put Hermione’s letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book of very difficult spells – but it wasn’t. His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit.

“Wow, Hermione!” Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside. After he put her marvelous present aside <Return that? Not on your life, Granger!>, he opened the last parcel.

******

Harry clamped the struggling book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and pulled out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid’s card.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I know I didn’t send you anything for your last birthday, but after what you did for me at the end of the year I thought I might send you a little something.

Think you might find this useful for next year.

Won’t say no more here. You’ll find out soon enough.

Hope the Muggles are treating you right.

All the best,

Hagrid

******

After finishing his breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron early in his “Dursley-free” time, Harry was still not quite sure that he could believe the ups and downs in his fortune since his birthday. <I was sure I was going to get expelled for blowing up Aunt Marge. Good thing that Knight Bus came along when it did! And now, I find out from Minister Fudge that I have a murderer after me – well, at least I know – I’d hate to find out the hard way, with a knife to my throat or something!>

So, Harry spent the rest of the summer holidays exploring the shops and eating under the brightly colored umbrellas outside cafes…

****

As the days slipped by, Harry became a bit restless, and he couldn’t figure out why. He had started to notice more and more Hogwarts students, from Slytherin and the other houses, coming to do their shopping. Then, one morning, he realized why he was restless. <Hey, there’s Hermione! I guess I must have been keeping an eye out for her all this time. But, who’s that she’s with? That’s not…Ron Weasley, is it? Oh, great…just what I need – someone to make rude comments about me!>

“Harry! HARRY!”

There they were, both of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor – Ron looking taller and incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown <Hmm, she must have spent some time on the beach in France – not bad, Granger!> Hermione was waving frantically at him, but Ron seemed to be rethinking whether he wanted to even be there.

“Oh, hello, Granger!” Harry said, “Weasley…” he nodded slightly in Ron’s direction. Ron stood, obviously uncomfortable at the situation he found himself in.

Finally, he cleared his throat and acknowledged that Harry had spoken to him. “Potter… good to…well, how has your summer…” and than, flustered, he shut up; since he realized he didn’t much care about Harry’s summer, and it really wasn’t all that good to see him.

“Honestly, Ron!” Hermione turned to him, with determination in her eyes. “You’re almost as bad as your sister was when I introduced Harry to her last term! She was mostly scared, and here you are being mostly rude. Am I going to have to use the same tactics on you that I did on her, since I KNOW you too have met already? All right then – shake hands and start acting civilly towards each other!”

“Yes, Mum!” Ron said, automatically, extending his hand towards Harry. As he realized what he had said, his ears turned quite red with embarrassment. “Sorry, Hermione, but you sounded just like my mum then, and I…well, I just forgot for a second.” Hermione and Harry just stood there, and then all three of them burst into laughter. Harry took Ron’s proffered hand and shook it once again, smiling as he felt a sense of …rightness…about it.

*****

After Ron showed Harry and Hermione his new wand (“Charlie’s old one finally wore out, so Mum and Dad used the last of their winnings to buy me this one- fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn hair!) and they completed their excursion into the Magical Menagerie, where Hermione purchased Crookshanks for an early birthday present (<At least I know her birthday month, now I just need to find out the day!> Harry thought as he planned what he would get for her to thank her for the Broomstick kit), they set off towards the Leaky Cauldron. Ron was still not too happy about having been nearly scalped by Crookshanks as he went chasing after Ron’s rat, Scabbers. Neither Harry nor Hermione, however, were too fussed. “That rat’s seen its better days, isn’t that what the witch said just now? Might be a kindness to snuff it quickly, you know. Besides, that’s what cats do, isn’t it? Eat rats and all?” Harry said, very unsympathetically.

Hermione glared at Harry for this, but she didn’t provide Ron with too much more comfort. “Oh, stop worrying, Ron. Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what’s the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he’d been in there for ages; no one wanted him.”

Ron snarled at Harry. “Potter, just shut it… you just don’t understand how it is with wizarding family pets…And you, Hermione, just make sure you don’t let him anywhere near my rat.” By this time, they had entered the pub, and found an older, red-headed wizard wearing glasses sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet. “Dad, there’s someone here I’d like you to meet…” Ron said, with some hesitation. “This…is Harry Potter, you know, from school.”

“Harry!” he said, smiling as he looked up. “Oh, yes! You look so much like your father! But, you definitely have your mother’s eyes! What a pleasure to meet you! Harry, my wife and I just wanted to thank you for what you did for our daughter this last year. After hearing what happened from Dumbledore, I’m glad that it wasn’t any more serious than it was. But, if we can ever do you a favor one day, be sure and let us know. By the way, there is something you’ll need to know about your travel arrangements to King’s Cross this year. Remind me to tell you later.”

Mr. Weasley had put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.

******

Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Mrs. Weasley had insisted that Harry and Hermione join the family that night, so Tom the innkeeper had put three tables together in the parlor. The seven Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were stuffed after they ate their way through five delicious courses. Molly seemed to fuss over Harry a lot more than he would expect, considering he just met her, but he realized that the Weasleys must have known his parents so he figured it must have had something to do with that.

“What was this you were telling Harry, just now, about going to the station tomorrow, Dad?” asked Fred (or was it George?) Weasley as they dug into their dessert pudding.

“The Ministry is providing a couple of cars,” said Mr. Weasley.

Everyone looked up at him.

“Why?” said Percy curiously.

“It’s because of you, Perce,” said George seriously. “And there’ll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them -”

“-for Humongous Bighead,” said Fred.

Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.

“Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?” Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.

“Well, as I was trying to explain to Harry just now, some in the Ministry are concerned about his security until he returns to Hogwarts. And, since the Weasley’s create a large crowd wherever they go, I was told that we could serve as an escort in exchange for the use of the ministry cars. How about it, Harry? You too, Miss Granger? You up to joining our little excursion? Ginny would really enjoy some ‘girl’ company for once! It’s rough on her being surrounded by all these boys!” he said with a chuckle.

“Sure, Mr. Weasley!” Hermione said with a grin. I’d love to tag along. I was planning on hiring a cab, but this would be easier.”

Harry didn’t mind, either, although he wasn’t sure why he was a security problem until later that evening, when he overheard a heated conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

****

As he looked up at the dark ceiling from his bed that evening, he scowled. Did they really think he was in that much danger, and that he couldn’t look after himself? He’d escaped Lord Voldemort once already, and a basilisk is surely more dangerous than Sirius Black, wasn’t it?

Unbidden, the image of the beast in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent crossed his mind. What to do when you know the worst is coming…

“I’m not going to be murdered,” Harry said out loud.

“That’s the spirit, dear,’ said his mirror, sleepily.

******

After boarding the train the next morning at King’s Cross Station and settling in the compartment with a sleeping Professor Lupin, Harry wanted to get Hermione alone to talk to her about what he had heard from the Weasleys. He wasn’t too sure that he knew Ron well enough to trust him. Ginny, fortunately, had met up with some of her friends, and had long since disappeared into another part of the train. As he was sitting there in the compartment, trying to decide what to do, Hermione spoke up. “What is it, Harry? You seem like you want to say something. Go ahead, Ron’s okay, for a boy, that is!”

Ron couldn’t let that go unchallenged. “Yeah, I’m a boy! What of it? I guarantee you I keep my mouth shut more than most of those girls at school! Always gossiping about everything. Can’t leave a bloke in peace if he even wants to say hi to a girl – all of a sudden, everyone thinks you’re going to get married next week! I promise, all I did was carry Lavender’s books for her one time!”

Hermione nodded, ruefully. “You’re right, Ron. I found that out this last year – you’d think it was a guaranteed engagement announcement to be seen in the library studying with someone more than once, especially if they are from another house!”

Harry realized what Hermione was referring to right away. “You mean, people thought… you and me were…dating or something last year? How come I never heard that before? That’s about the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You and me, Granger? What a joke!” From Hermione’s slightly hurt expression, Harry thought maybe he had gone a bit too far. “Oh, sorry, Hermione, I didn’t mean that to sound that way. It’s just that we were so busy last year working on our…project that I never even thought that anyone would think that we were…well, you know…” Harry decided that his foot was far enough in his mouth, thank you, so he shut up. Hermione continued to look at him with an expression of…well, not anger, but something he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Hmmph…well, Potter, are you saying you don’t think of me that way? Oh, shut it, Ron, I KNOW that you don’t think too much of me, the ‘bossy bushy brown-haired bookworm’, isn’t that how you refer to me when you think I’m not around?” Ron immediately stopped the snicker that had started to come out. “I enjoy the alliteration, but I’m just another ‘ugly girl’, is that it? Is that what you think, too, Potter?”

He could detect a little bit of pain in that last, so he thought he’d better say something nice. “But, I don’t think you’re ugly,” said Harry, bemused. And then, for the first time since he had told Dumbledore about them the previous school year, he had another memory flash.

<…Hermione laughed.

“Harry, you’re worse than Ron…well, no, you’re not,” she sighed, as Ron himself came stumping into the Hall splattered with mud and looking grumpy.>

In his mind, he could tell that Hermione and Ron were definitely older, and Ron was wearing Gryffindor Quidditch robes. “But, Ron’s not on the Gryffindor team…”

Obviously Harry said this out loud, because Ron sputtered, “Me, on the Gryffindor team? Why would you say something like that? Are you CRAZY, Potter? My brothers would never let me try out; besides, there’s no openings until next year when Wood graduates. Although, we could always use a better seeker than we’ve had these last two years. Honestly, if I thought I had a chance on my old broom, I’d give it a go…but, what does that have to do with Hermione being ugly?”

“RONALD WEASLEY! Did you just call me ugly?” Hermione’s voice was definitely on edge.

“No, of course not, Hermione! I’d never say something like that, especially to your face!” Ron said with a smirk.

Hermione started playing along as she saw that he was kidding. “Ah, you may not say it, but you think it, is that it? Honestly!”

Harry held up both hands. “Now, you two, stop it. You can continue this fight later – you seem to be enjoying yourself way too much! Remember, I started to try to say something to you when we got off-track a little. Do you want to hear this or not?” As they both shut up and nodded, Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him.

******

The door in the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when he heard a familiar voice, and a not so familiar one.

“Potter!” said Snape, his head of house. “Granger, you too!” said Professor McGonagall. “The two of you, come over here. We need to talk to you, in my office, if you don’t mind, Severus?”

Professor Snape nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course, Professor. That will be fine.”

Once they were in her office, Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down while she settled herself in behind her desk, with Snape standing beside her. He said, abruptly, with a decidedly unpleasant tone, “Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead that you were taken ill on the train, Potter.” Harry could have sworn that Snape didn’t think that Lupin deserved to be considered a professor for some reason.

Before Harry could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in. “Oh, it’s you, is it? What is it with you, Mr. Potter, and the simple act of trying to get back to school without incident? I mean, thousands of students have made the trip from King’s Cross for many years with no difficulties, yet I’m seeing you TWO YEARS in a row!”

“It was a dementor, Poppy,” said Professor McGonagall. Snape seemed rather upset that Minerva seemed to be assuming responsibility for his student, but, since she was his superior, he decided to let it go.

Eventually, Harry convinced the three adults that he was fine, and that the chocolate had done its job.

“Very well, Potter,” Professor Snape said. “Off to the Great Hall with you, then.” As Hermione started to rise with Harry, not quite sure why she had been brought in to the meeting.

McGonagall interrupted her. “Just a minute, Miss Granger! I need to have a quick word with you about your course schedule – you didn’t think I brought you here just to hear about Harry’s incident, did you?”

****

Harry was already seated next to Blaise Zabini when he noticed Hermione come into the hall, looking quite pleased with whatever news she had been given. He followed her progress as she walked to the Gryffindor table, and watched as she sat down between Ginny and Lavender Brown, who was seated next to Ron. But then, Dumbledore stood up and started to speak, so Harry listened attentively to the Headmaster, commenting to himself as the speech progressed.

<Great, I have to deal with those dementors all year? Well, that’s one good reason not to go to Hogsmeade with everyone else. If I don’t have to go past them, I guess it’s okay that I don’t have permission to go…Hmm, so, Hermione was right – Lupin is the new DADA professor. Wonder why Professor Snape doesn’t like him…What, Hagrid is the new Care of Magical Creatures professor? Why are the Gryffs so excited? Was Hagrid a Gryff, too? I guess I never knew that. Well, that explains the biting book, I guess! Hagrid always seems to like the more vicious things, from what I’ve seen! I mean, I wouldn’t want to come across that boarhound I’ve seen him with either at night or in the day!> And then, it was time to eat.

At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed. As Harry headed towards the Slytherin common room, he felt a large hand tap him on the shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet.

“Oh, hello, Hagrid! I suppose congratulations are in order! Care of Magical Creatures, eh?” Harry said, trying to stand up straight.

“All thanks to you, you know, Harry,” said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkins as he looked up at him. “Can’ believe it…great man, Dumbledore...came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he’d had enough…It’s what I always wanted… but, until I was cleared, I couldn’t even be considered. But, you fixed that for me, eh, Harry?”

Harry smiled at him, and then headed for his dormitory room, which now said THIRD YEARS on the door. “Oh yeah, that’s right. I have to go face the Gruesome Threesome again, and now they’re going to be on me all term about the dementor thing. Maybe I should go see if Dumbledore’s offer is still good? Naah, I’m sure it’s too late to change now, besides, how bad can it be?”

Chapter 20 – A Ride and a Boggart

(A/N – After reading the chapter title, you know what’s coming…but I have to do some other things before and after we get there, so, be patient!)

Harry soon found out just how bad it could be as soon as he entered his room. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle either had a hidden talent for special effects work, or they had help, because there were very life-like looking dementors floating through the air, surrounding him, following him wherever he went. As he climbed into his bed, he even found one waiting for him, complete with a rotting hand and long fingers that reached for him as soon as he moved the covers. Fortunately for Harry, due to the sheer numbers of animated “dementors” that were now running into each other in their attempts to swarm around him, he started to find it very funny. “Hey, Malfoy, good job! I was wondering, are these relatives from your mum’s or your dad’s side? I still haven’t figured out why you thought I needed to meet your family this way! I mean, you could just invite me down to the gates to meet them in person!”

“Told you, Malfoy!” Blaise Zabini chuckled, “Subtlety has its place, remember? Just because one is good, it doesn’t mean 100 are better, right, Potter?”

“Shut it, Zabini!” Malfoy growled. “For all of your pure-blood claims, you sure do stick up for the half-bloods like Potter and those Mudbloods you hang out with, especially that Mudblood Puckle. I admit, she’s not bad to look at, and I’m sure there are some things I could do to her that would be VERY enjoyable, but, actually spending time with her afterwards? Not on your life!”

Harry’s temper had started to rise as he heard this. He sat on the edge of his bed, and said, with noticeable restraint, “Just watch it, Golden-boy! I probably shouldn’t say anything, because I’d so like to see what happens if you tried what you were just thinking about, but I’ll just ask you this. Do you know the whole story about why Lockhart didn’t return to school this year? I was there and saw what happened…On second thought, Malfoy, the more that I think about it, the more I like the idea. Why don’t you or your buddies go ahead and try something with Miss Puckle? I’m sure that if St. Mungo’s had a few more “boy sopranos” in residence to join Gilderoy, they might be able to form a choir to help with fundraising and such! Ah, but I forgot a small detail. You wouldn’t be able to remember the words to any songs you know, though! That would make it difficult, now wouldn’t it?”

As soon as Malfoy realized what Harry was referring to, he winced and went to his own bed. Crabbe and Goyle both got dizzy staring at the dementors circling their heads, so they, too retired. That left Harry and Blaise to deal with the creations, and they ended up coming up with a plan to do so. Blaise had magically duplicated a sign he had made, which said “Pleasant Dreams to you all! Courtesy of Draco Malfoy” and attached it to each dementor. Then, since they seemed to be charmed to follow Harry wherever he went, he led the whole lot of them out of their dorm room and into the room of the Seventh Year Slytherins, who had a later curfew than the Third Years. Before he left the room, he reversed the charm that attracted the dementors to him and redirected it to the seventh year boys. “Yeah, Malfoy’s sure going to be popular with the Seventh Years tomorrow, isn’t he, Blaise?” Harry smirked.

****

As he read his Third Year schedule during breakfast the next morning, Harry was happy to see that his first class the following morning was Charms with Flitwick and Puckle, then History of Magic, followed in the afternoon by Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors. <Great, that means I’ll get to see Hermione and Ron today!> he thought, as he started to realize that he really did enjoy being with them more than his housemates. <Yeah, Ron’s not too bad, once you get to know him, and Hermione is …well, she’s just really nice to me.> His eyes glazed over for a moment; until he saw Rubeus come in swinging a dead polecat. <Hmmm, wonder what Hagrid’s going to show us today? Maybe it’s something that eats polecats…Hey, I’d better get going if I’m going to say hello to Miss Puckle before class starts.>

When he got to the Charms classroom, he saw he was the only one of his classmates there. “Oh, hello Mr. Potter!” Miss Puckle’s familiar voice greeted him as he walked in. “You’re here early! Professor Flitwick and your classmates probably won’t be in for a few minutes, but that should give me time to thank you properly for what you did last year! I thought it was very brave for you to be able to get rid of the basilisk, and protect Ginny and Hermione while you were doing it. Thank you, Harry, from all of us!” she said with feeling.

Harry looked into her eyes as she said this, and saw…something there that was quite unfamiliar. Immediately, he felt his neck and ears getting warm. “That…that’s quite all right, Miss Puckle. My pleasure and all.” He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a mirror in the corner, and saw that he was now blushing quite noticeably.

Harmony saw it, too. “Oh, sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to…embarrass you like that. Oh, drat, we don’t want your classmates to see you that way when they start coming in.” And she waved her wand, casting a charm that reversed his flushed appearance.

As Harry watched her cast the spell, he finally understood what Ginny had said about Miss Puckle’s wand. “Erm…Miss Puckle? Thanks for taking care of that, but…I couldn’t help noticing your wand just now. It looks just like…Granger’s!”

Now it was the assistant professor’s time to quickly turn quite red. She stammered for a second, “Er…oh, really, Mr. Potter? I…well, I never noticed…Just a coincidence, I’m sure…” Fortunately for her, this awkward scene was cut short by the arrival of Professor Flitwick, followed closely by some Slytherin students. Harry took his seat, but he noticed that Miss Puckle seemed to deliberately avoid looking at him for the rest of the class.

Harry was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch that day. He had already been to Professor Binns’ class, and he needed some sunlight and fresh air to counteract the drowsiness he always felt. Yesterday’s rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as he set off for his first ever Care of Magical Creatures class. He was in such a hurry that he failed to notice that the Gruesome Threesome were right behind him as he walked down towards Hagrid’s hut. Malfoy was in a very animated conversation with the troll boys, so Harry “accidentally” dropped his Monster Book of Monsters (which caused it to growl menacingly) so they would pass him as he stopped to pick it up. As he looked up, though, he saw Ron and Hermione walking towards them. He immediately noticed that they were not speaking to each other, but when Hermione saw him, she came over to say hello as Ron tagged along behind, still with a closed expression on his face.

“What’s up, you two?” Harry asked. “So Ron, what’d you say to Hermione this time to set her off?”

“Hey, Potter, watch it!” Ron said, tightly. “It wasn’t me; it was Professor Trelawney that started it!”

Hermione glared at her red-headed friend. “That’s true, Ron, but you don’t have to keep bringing it up, now do you? ‘Professor Trelawney said you didn’t have the right aura! You just don’t like being bad at something for a change!’ ”She mimicked Ron’s sing-song voice. “Honestly! If being good at divination means I have to pretend to find any meaning in a lump of tea leaves, I’m not sure I’ll be studying it much longer. That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!”

Harry was quite confused. “Who…who’s this Trelawney person? Is she the Divination professor? I haven’t had that class yet. And, wait a minute, Hermione, you can’t have had Arithmancy – it’s the same time as Divination, if I remember the schedule I saw this morning.”

Ron nodded his head. “Yeah, and her schedule says she’s taking Muggle Studies, too, at the same time. What’s going on, ‘Mione?”

“RONALD WEASLEY! How many times have I told you to NOT call me by that name! Just because your sister prefers her name to be shortened, it doesn’t mean you can be that familiar with ME!” OOOOH!” and with that, she adjusted the book bag on her shoulders and stalked away.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut…

*****

“Right – who wants to go first?”

The entire class of Slytherins and Gryffindors l backed farther away in answer. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn’t seem to like being tethered like this.

“No one?” said Hagrid, with a pleading look. “How about someone from Slytherin? Nothing to be worried about, you lot – I’m right here!”

“I’ll do it,” said Harry.

Harry thought he heard a quick intake of breath coming from Hermione’s direction when he said that, but he wasn’t sure why as he climbed over the paddock fence.

****

As Harry watched the rest of the class work with the hippogriffs after his trip around the paddock <Well, I still prefer riding a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, I’d say!>, he noticed that Ron and Hermione were both attempting to get close to the chestnut hippogriff, without too much success. <Ron doesn’t seem too interested in being near the creature, or is it Hermione he’s trying to avoid?> he observed. Without any warning, Harry had another flash…this time, of a dark night, and him giving Hermione a leg up as she climbed on Buckbeak’s back, then the …wonderful, warm feel of her arms wrapping themselves tightly around his waist as he sat in front of her…them gliding off, her frightened voice in his ear, muttering about not liking it, them flying next to a window, her pulling out her wand that looked just like Miss Puckle’s, and then…

Just as he had totally lost himself in the sensations from this scene playing in his mind, he was startled out of his pleasant thought by a high-pitched scream from Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

******

Later that evening, seated by himself at the Slytherin table, Harry noticed a large group of his housemates huddled together on the other end, deep in conversation. Harry was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Malfoy had been injured. He looked over at the Gryffindor table, and saw that Ron and Hermione had also noticed that Hagrid was not present at the meal. He saw Ron look at his watch, say something to Hermione, and then the two of them headed off towards the main doors to the grounds. <They must be going down to check on Hagrid. Hope he’s not been sacked! I’m sure that Malfoy must have been doing something stupid to get Buckbeak to attack him like that. He sure wasn’t mean to me, now was he! And, now that I think about it, it was quite the ride I got to take…but I wish I knew what that dream I had about riding him with Hermione meant!>, Harry thought. <Guess I’ll just have to ask Dumbledore the next time I see him. By the way, where is the Headmaster?>

Harry then noticed there were two chairs besides Hagrid’s empty at the head table at the moment, Miss Puckle’s and Dumbledore’s. The normal occupants of those chairs were at that moment meeting in Miss Puckle’s office.

“Headmaster, I’m glad I saw you walking by just now. Sorry if I delayed your dinner, but…I need to tell you about something that happened earlier today.”

“Well, Miss Puckle, I must admit, based on the last two years I was expecting this unscheduled meeting to be earlier in the term!” he twinkled at her. “You’ve made it through almost a full class day this time without having to discuss Mr. Potter with me!”

“I won’t even bother to ask how you knew this was about Harry!” she blushed. “But, I’m afraid it is. This morning, he had occasion to look closely at my wand, and he must have had a similar opportunity to notice Hermione’s, because he said they looked the same. You know, that’s strange, that never came up in all the preparations we made before I came here. Wonder why neither I nor your future self ever thought about that being a problem?”

“Well, Hermione, I’m sure that the two of you had a lot on your mind at the time, eh? Besides, I’m not too concerned about this incident by itself. I’m sure you can think of a reasonable explanation for the apparent likeness, if the subject comes up again with either your younger self or Harry? Just try to be discrete, and avoid situations where your wands will be close to each other with curious eyes around!”

“Yes, sir! I do have a question, though. Is there some way I can slightly change the appearance of my wand without affecting its properties in any way? This wand and I have been through a lot together, some of it twice,” she smirked, “and I would hate to do something that can’t be reversed.”

“Yes, my dear, there are ways. Sometimes wands do, coincidentally, look almost exactly alike; so to prevent wizards and witches from getting their wands confused, there are methods of uniquely identifying them. I will consult with my friend Mr. Ollivander, and get back to you with the specifics. Since you have a vine wood wand, I’m sure that there are some obvious modifications that can be easily completed. But, I sense that there is more that you want to tell me…am I right?”

She was caught off guard by his question, because she had already decided earlier that she wouldn’t mention what was bothering her to anyone. But, now she knew it was useless to try to cover up. “Now that you mention it, Albus… yes, there was one thing. When I was talking to Harry before class started this morning, I thanked him for what he had done last term for the school, and also Hermione, Ginny and me. When I said this, he …he…erm, he looked into my eyes, and I couldn’t help but look back into those…beautiful green eyes of his…and, well, he started blushing quite a lot so I assume he could tell my thoughts weren’t all that…professional at the moment. Since I knew that the other students would notice if they caught him that way, I cast a charm on him to mask his flushed face. That’s when he noticed my wand, by the way. Oh, Albus, I think I’m doing so well, and then…he looks at me, or I notice him doing something familiar, and…all those feelings I have for him come back again.”

“It’s completely understandable, Hermione, if you’d just think about why this is happening. Haven’t you recognized the pattern here? These incidents seem to happen after you’ve been away from him for a while – after the summer or winter breaks, isn’t it?” She thought for a moment, and then nodded. “As I suspected, that just means that when you are seeing him in a classroom situation during the year, you are more comfortable at keeping the student-teacher relationship completely proper. But, after a longer separation, you have to work a little to control your feelings. Don’t worry about Harry’s reaction too much. He is, obviously, a maturing boy, so he has random ‘thoughts’ like that all the time, so I’m sure he will just chalk it up to hormones and go on with his life. He’s got quite enough else to worry about this year, as you well know!”

“But, what do I do about it? You know of course, that I surely don’t want to cause Harry any discomfort! I’m also quite sure that if he knew his charms teacher is in love with…well, not him exactly, but who she knows he will be in a few years, it would cause him a lot of confusion, at the very least. Not to mention what would happen if …you know, my younger self noticed it, too. I’m starting to notice that they are spending a lot more time together, and not just studying, either. You know, if it weren’t so weird it would be funny, but sometimes I have seen them together, and I find myself feeling very jealous…of myself, mind you!” Her eyes were starting to glisten with tears as she said this. “It’s just so…frustrating, sometimes!”

“Ah…Miss Puckle, since I am sure that your situation is unique, I don’t know what else to say to you. No great words of wisdom this time, I’m afraid. I’ll just repeat my previous advice – I assume you are continuing your chats with Minerva? Sometimes a listening ear, especially from another woman, is the best you can hope for.”

“Yes, I have really enjoyed our gab sessions! I was already planning on talking to her about this, you know, but you brought it up just now, so I had to answer your question.”

“That’s quite all right, Harmony. Just take all this as a reminder to be on your guard constantly, because there are others around who may start to notice similarities between you and Miss Granger. Now, you are quite late for dinner, so why don’t you go down to see if there is anything left! Besides, I have to check on Mr. Malfoy’s injury on the way to the Great Hall before I write up the accident report for the Ministry this evening. Shall we?”

*****

As Harry was adding more ingredients to his Shrinking Solution the next day, he was having trouble ignoring how Professor Snape was treating the Gryffindors, especially Hermione. All she had said was that she could help Longbottom fix his potion, and he called her a show-off. <That’s not very nice of him –I know how she works – she’d just tell him what to do to fix it, he’d have to do all the work on his own anyway.>

But then, Seamus Finnegan interrupted. “Hey, Potter! Did you hear? Sirius Black’s been sighted near here – it was in the Daily Prophet this morning. Bet you’re scared, eh? I would be if I were you, with a condemned murderer after me and all!”

“Why would I be scared?” Harry said. “As long as he stays away from me, we’ll both be fine.”

Harry saw that Malfoy was watching him closely. He leaned across the table.

“So, if you did run in to him, I bet you think that you could handle him single-handed, eh, Potter?”

****

The next morning, it was time for Harry’s first Defense against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin. He had overheard a few third years at the Gryffindor table murmuring something about a…boggart, whatever that was, and something to do with Longbottom’s grandmother and Professor Snape during their lesson the previous afternoon, but it didn’t make any sense to him.

As they followed Professor Lupin into the staffroom, he was surprised (and a bit pleased) to see Miss Puckle sitting in a chair, reading a very old copy of Hogwarts, a History. He caught her eye and smiled at her, but her face was impassive as she quickly turned the page and looked away. Professor Lupin, however, took in a deep breath as he walked past her chair. He looked over at her with a very puzzled expression on his face. “Strange…but that doesn’t make any sense…I could have sworn…” he mumbled under his breath. Out loud, he said, “Ah, Miss Puckle! Care to stay for a bit? I’m sure that you won’t be facing the same thing that happened at Severus’s expense yesterday, eh?”, and both of them chuckled.

“Why yes, Professor, I’m sure it will be quite…interesting to see how the Slytherins deal with your practical lesson today. If you’re sure I won’t be a distraction?”

“Actually, Miss Puckle, I must admit, you are quite the distraction, but a very pleasant one at that!” Most of the Slytherin boys and quite a few of the girls groaned at Lupin’s corny line, but he just smiled and walked to the front of the room. “Now, then, class, I have been extremely fortunate in procuring another subject for our lesson today. Apparently there is a large group of them in the castle this year, so I’ll be able to perform this demonstration in all the third-year classes this week and still have enough for other purposes.” As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

****

“Who would have thought that Malfoy is afraid of so many things that the boggart got confused and couldn’t decide what to change into?” Harry said, laughing, to Blaise as they left the room. “And then, when first Crabbe, and then, Goyle went up against it, and both times it turned into Draco! – that was brilliant!”

Blaise smirked back at him. “But, Harry, why didn’t Lupin let you have a go at it? I mean, it’s like he didn’t think you could handle it or something. What, was he afraid that…You-Know-Who would show up for you? Besides, it looks like he’s scared of a crystal ball or something, so he should know that everyone’s got weird fears!”

Before long that term, what with his regular Quidditch practices and his DADA lessons, Harry was completely enjoying his third year. Professor Lupin seemed to really know his dark creatures, and had shown them Red Caps and Kappas already, and he had mentioned that he had already picked out their next subject and he had ordered one for class study already. Potions, however, was becoming less enjoyable for Harry. He was still at the top of his class, and was doing quite well in all of his work, but he was really beginning to see how unfair Professor Snape was with the Gryffindor students in their Double Potions class. He seemed especially to focus his attacks on Neville Longbottom and Hermione, and Harry could tell it was starting to get to her. On the Saturday before Halloween, Harry found her sitting out on the castle grounds, holding Crookshanks and looking forlorn.

“Hey, what’s up, Granger? You look like you’ve lost a friend or something!” he said trying to be cheerful.

“Oh, hi Harry…funny you should mention that, but you may just be right,” she said dejectedly. “It’s Ron…well; it’s actually Ron and his rat, Scabbers! I mean, a cat is supposed to chase and catch rats, isn’t it? Crookshanks can’t be expected to know it’s wrong, now can he? And, how dare he tell Lavender that I don’t think other people’s pets matter very much! Of course I do! I love Crookshanks! He’s the best pet I could ever have, and I know that Ron probably feels the same way about his rat…although I can’t for the life of me understand why!”

Harry chuckled at this. “Yeah, it is a pretty pathetic rat, isn’t it? I guess it’s all he has, though…I mean, I have my Hedwig, and you have your Crookshanks. Even Longbottom has that…toad, right?”

“Now that you mention it, Harry, maybe a rat isn’t all that bad. At least it has some fur that you can pet – not slimy skin like Trevor!” a small smile starting to form.

“That’s more like it, Hermione! I much prefer seeing you smile, you’re really pr…I mean…I don’t like to see you sad.” he said, quickly covering his slip-up.

Hermione looked over at him, not sure that she had heard what he almost said. But then, Crookshanks decided that he was being ignored, and jumped down from Hermione’s lap. He slowly circled around Harry’s legs, purring and rubbing up against him. “Oh, Harry, go ahead and pick him up. He usually doesn’t take to others this easily, but I think he wants you to see the collar you bought him so he can thank you properly for it. I’m so glad you bought that for him! It was a great birthday present for me, too!” she smiled.

“Hermione, knock it off. You’ve thanked me for that collar nearly every time I’ve seen you since your birthday. If you keep this up, you’re not getting anything for Christmas. I don’t think my ego can take so much buttering up! I mean, it was just a collar for your cat!” he chuckled as he absent-mindedly petted Crookshanks, who had by now jumped into his lap.

“Sorry, Harry, it’s just that…yours was the only present I got from anyone here, besides Miss Puckle, that is, and I really wasn’t expecting you, especially, to give me anything. And, it wasn’t just a collar, you know. I mean, those sapphires are beautiful! Where did you get something like that?”

“What, after the present you sent me for my birthday? There’s no way I couldn’t send you something nice in return! I bought it in Diagon Alley the afternoon after you bought Crookshanks. You mentioned that your birthday was in September, so I knew right away I had to get you something while I was near the shops. Remember, I told you I had to go back and buy one thing that I forgot right before dinner with the Weasleys? The wizard at the counter said that Sapphire was the traditional birthstone for September, so I thought it would be something for both you and your new pet! I still had to find out your actual birthday, though…”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you that, Harry. How did you manage that piece of information, anyway? I mean, it’s not something that is all that common knowledge, unless you were snooping in the student files. I mean, I’m not sure any of my housemates…well, at least one of them, is aware of my birthday, based on his…I mean, what happened this year.”

“Oh, that was easy…I just asked Miss Puckle! She seemed quite excited to tell me when I asked her. Of course, I had to show her what I had bought for Crookshanks and you, and she said I had very good taste, but she sounded a little…I don’t know, choked up when she said it. Now, before I get off track, I have to ask you something. You were just talking about Ron, weren’t you? He didn’t get you anything for your birthday? I thought…well, you know, that you two were…good friends, at least, right?”

“Yeah, I thought so, too. I mean, I do spend some time with him, now that I’ve gotten to know him. I guess its all thanks to Ginny that I even talk to him. He can be quite annoying much of the time, but I really do consider him a friend, just as I do Neville or Dean. Or, at least I thought he was a friend, until the whole thing with Scabbers this year,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Hermione, is something else wrong? I mean, sitting here, I’ve noticed – you seem a lot more tired than normal. Are you having trouble with school this year? I mean, I know Professor Snape’s been really hard on you this year, at least in our Double Potions classes, but I thought you would be used to that by now.”

“Well, Harry, I am taking a few extra subjects this year through a special arrangement with Professor McGonagall, and I guess I’m still getting used to it. That’s all, I suppose. I’m surprised you could tell.”

“Yeah, it surprised me, too, but I was just looking at you sitting there, and it was almost as if I knew you were tired for some reason. Oh, yeah, that reminds me…”

“Reminds you about what, Mr. Potter?” he heard the voice of Miss Puckle come up behind him. “Hello, Hermione, Harry! Are you enjoying this fine Saturday afternoon out in the sun! Good for you!” But, before she could say anything else, the three of them were quite surprised to hear a strange sound coming from Crookshanks as he sat on Harry’s lap. He was quite agitated, looking back and forth between Miss Puckle and Hermione while he was sniffing the air quite frantically, then glaring at Harmony especially. Finally, he seemed to give up and ran off back towards the castle.

Hermione was the first to speak. “Well, now that was quite unexpected, wasn’t it? He’s never acted like that before…wonder what’s gotten into him? I hope he didn’t pick up Scabbers’ smell and is going off to chase him. That would be all I need today – to give Ron another reason to growl at me!”

While she was talking, both Harry and her failed to notice the sad expression on Harmony’s face. She hadn’t seen Crookshanks in Harry’s lap when she came up behind him, or else she would have known to keep her distance from the half-Kneazle. She had made it a point to avoid the animal up to this point. <Poor Crookshanks…between my smell being just like Hermione’s and the fact that I’m not being all that truthful in my current form, I’m sure he was quite confused!> As she took a seat next to them, she decided to distract her two cleverest students before they began to think about what had just happened. “So, what were you saying when I just came up, Harry? Something you were reminded of? Or, was it something personal between the two of you? If so, I’ll leave you to it!”

Harry sputtered, “Oh, no, Miss Puckle. Nothing like that…In fact, you already know what it’s about, anyway, and maybe you can help. Remember those memory flashes I described to you last year? Well, I’ve had a couple more since then, but these were different, somehow.”

Both Hermione and Harmony’s eyes were fixed on Harry, and, as they saw that there were no unwanted ears listening in, they said simultaneously, “What is it, Harry? Something wrong? What did you see? How were they different?”

“Whoa, one question at a time!” Harry said. “It’s bad enough when its one of you, but two at once? Give a bloke a chance to breathe, and I’ll tell you! To begin with, no, I didn’t think that these flashes were anything to worry about…far from it, in fact. And, the reason they were different is that they were so…well, I guess intense is the best word. I mean, in both cases, it was almost as if I were there, smelling, seeing, feeling everything that was happening to me in the dream, if that’s what it is.” And then, he proceeded to describe both incidents, first, the one where he was talking to Hermione and Ron came in with his muddy Quidditch robes on, and second, what seemed to him to be a ride on a hippogriff with Hermione. “…I mean, it was as if I could feel her breath on my neck as she sat there…”he said. “Now, I know THAT has never happened to me, so I must be picking up on someone else’s memories or something, right, Miss Puckle?”

But Miss Puckle was off in her own thoughts and memories at this time, and just sat there with a well-rehearsed “poker face” expression. Since her talk with Dumbledore at the first of the term she had spent a lot of time in a mirror learning how to control her outward expressions of emotion around Harry, and this was one of the first times she had to put it into actual practice.

“What is it, Miss Puckle?” Hermione said. “Why is Harry having dreams…about me? So, Harry, that explains your comment to Ron about the Quidditch robes back on the Hogwarts Express at least. You never did explain that very well and now I know why, with Ron there and all.”

“Hmm, well, Harry, Hermione, I’m not sure…I’ll discuss this with the Headmaster, and see what he thinks.” Harmony said as she got up quickly, still maintaining her cool demeanor on the outside. “Yes, Dumbledore needs to know about this right away. Why don’t you two head on back to the castle yourselves? I’ll let you know if we come up with anything.”

Chapter 21 –Partnerships

(A/N – Slight change here for this chapter. The single * marks will indicate scene breaks – of which there are a lot this time, and any sections that are the same as canon will be marked with ******. Hope you like the fluff! By the way, Harry’s talk with Lupin is coming, later…mostly off screen, it turns out.)

“OOOF! Oh, I do beg your pardon, Miss Puckle, I wasn’t watching as I came around the corner…”

Harmony, who had been completely lost in her own thoughts, realized sheepishly that she was probably the cause of the collision in the otherwise deserted hallway. As she started to pick herself up, she felt especially embarrassed when she realized who she had just knocked down, as she had landed right on top of…Remus Lupin!

As she hurriedly got the rest of the way up, she said quickly, “Oh…no, pardon me, Professor! I was the one who wasn’t paying attention! Sorry, I…I just received some very startling news, and I needed to talk to the headmaster about it.”

“Miss Puckle, is something wrong? May I be of assistance? And, please call me Remus. You’re not my student now, you know!” Lupin said quietly, as he stood up and dusted off his robes.

“I should be asking you the same thing! It looks like you got the worst of it when I ran into you …Remus… Sorry about that!” she smiled as she helped him pick up his armload of books. “No, this is something that is between …wait…hold on, did you just say what I thought you said?”, she said, now completely caught off guard.

“Whatever do you mean, Harmony…or should I say, Hermione?”

*

“Crookshanks? Crookshanks, come out from under there! Harry, why don’t you try? He still seems to be upset with me for some reason. See if he’ll come to you!”

Harry, who had followed Hermione back to the castle after Miss Puckle’s hasty exit, looked back at her with a bit of exasperation. Sighing, he knelt down by a small door next to the entrance hall. As they entered the castle, they heard what could best be described as a full-out cat war cry coming from the broom closet, and had found Crookshanks when they investigated. He could see the cat’s brightly shining eyes and a glimpse of his sapphire collar peeking out from under the supplies in the back, and it looked like his back and tail were quite arched and stiff. “I don’t know about this, Hermione. He looks pretty upset to me, too, and I’ve heard that it’s not a good idea to touch cats when they are in a bad mood. I don’t want to find out the hard way just how sharp his claws are!”

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Potter, that Crookshanks has NEVER clawed anyone! He’s a good cat!”

Harry chortled at that. “Hmm, I’m sure that Ron has a different opinion about that. Think back for a minute on the day you bought him? Something about, ‘Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me…’ if I remember correctly?”

“But that was purely accidental, I’m sure!” she said, defensively. “He smelled Scabbers, and I’m sure he was just acting on instinct when he chased after him. Unfortunately, Ron was in the way. Besides, Ron wasn’t hurt, really, just startled! `You know, Harry, you’re probably right about one thing. Ron and Crookshanks have not gotten along ever since, and now he’s starting to take it out on me.”

By this time, Harry had lit his wand and started to crawl cautiously into the closet to see if he could find any way to coax the cat out from his hiding place. He was somewhat distracted as he spoke. “…Well, I was just thinking…Easy, Crookshanks, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you…they say that people are a lot like their pets…OW! Who put that broom there? Could have poked my eye out! - So the whole… cat/rat thing…Phew! what IS that smell?– you’d think cleaning supplies shouldn’t stink like that … you know, it’ll never work out anyway.”

“Work out…work out how? Harry, what do you mean by that?” Hermione said.

“OUCH!” yelled Harry, followed quickly by a more earthy comment which made Hermione wince, followed by her wincing for a more painful reason. Harry had sat up just a little too quickly as he realized what he had said out loud. Unfortunately, this knocked a large bucket full of cleaning brushes off of the shelf, which landed right on Crookshanks’ tail. As a result, Harry had both a sore head and some severe scratches on his arms as the cat decided to exit by the shortest route possible, which was right through both Harry and Hermione. “Well, so much for Crookshanks never clawing anyone, eh, Hermione? I’ll have the scars to prove otherwise for quite some time, I’d wager…as will you, it looks like!”

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry! I still don’t know what’s gotten into him! Here, let me help you up and I’ll have a look at your arms. They’re starting to bleed!” As Hermione reached out to give him a boost, he accidentally slipped on a cleaning brush and pulled her over on top of him on the floor of the broom closet.

*

“Ah, yes…well, I thought something like this might happen when I offered him the position this year.” Dumbledore’s mustache was twitching quite freely. “However, knowing Remus as I do, I’m sure that he will be…discreet with his new-found information?”

Remus nodded, and smiled reassuringly over at Harmony as he said, “Of course, sir. You know, for a while this year I was beginning to think my werewolf nose was starting to fail me. Yes, Harmony, one of the little ‘side-effects’ of being a full-fledged werewolf is that some of my senses are heightened even when I am not in my alternate form. I find this useful in some situations, but it does make it very difficult for me to go to any large department store. Those salesladies at the entrance spraying their various scents on unsuspecting passers-by, it almost makes me choke to think about it…sorry, where was I? Oh, yes, anyway, I began to get suspicious back at the beginning of term, you know, that day you were in the staffroom reading when the Slytherin third-year class came in? I just happened to be next to your chair when I saw Mr. Potter smile at you. You pretended to ignore him, but your…well, your pheromones…told quite a different story. I admit I was concerned at first, thinking that we had either an inappropriate teacher-student crush developing, or that possibly you were VERY interested in me for some reason as I passed, but then I noticed that what I was smelling was Miss Granger’s scent. She had attended the class the previous afternoon, so I was already slightly familiar with her unique ‘signature’. It’s instinctual, you know – I promise I don’t go around deliberately smelling students! In fact, because some youth around here are still working on developing certain…hygienic habits, I’d rather avoid it completely if it were possible. But, it just didn’t make any sense WHY it was happening! From then on, I just couldn’t figure out why I could catch a whiff of Miss Granger whenever I was in the staff room or at the head table in the Great Hall, among other places, even when I knew she hadn’t been there. However, just now when we …er…met in the hall and I took a deep breath after you knocked the wind out of me, I finally made the unmistakable connection. Of course, I have no earthly idea how you could be Miss Granger, Harmony; I just know that you are. I completely understand if you want to keep the details to yourself, although I admit to quite a bit of curiosity on the subject.”

“First Crookshanks, and now, you, and within the same thirty minutes, too!” Harmony muttered under her breath. “Going on three years without any problems, and I’m caught by a nose…well, two noses!” she choked, starting to laugh as her concern turned to relief. “Well, Headmaster, I suppose there’s no use in keeping him in the dark any more, besides, I realized just now that he may be able to help me with something this year!”

“Yes, Miss Puck…er…Hermione, I agree. Again, with your unique knowledge of events, I’m sure that you, especially, realize I do trust Remus. The mere fact that I have allowed him to teach here under the circumstances, as I explained to the staff at the beginning of the year, should be proof of that! So, do you want me to do the honors, as it were, or would you like to enlighten your fellow teacher?”

*

“MISS GRANGER! AND…MR. POTTER! JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” Professor McGonagall’s voice was barely restrained. She had been walking across the entrance hall when she heard a crash coming from the broom closet, and had nearly been run over by Crookshanks as he left. Then, when she got close enough to investigate further, she saw probably her favorite (although she would have denied it if accused) Gryffindor witch laying on top of a certain young man from…Slytherin House…in a broom closet…on a Saturday…wearing those shameful MUGGLE clothes, mind you! It was very fortunate that most of the students were still outside, or else the entire student body would have found out about what had just happened.

By this time, they had both gotten to their feet, both of their faces turning as red as tomatoes. “Professor McGonagall, ma’am! It’s not what you think…Oh, this looks bad, doesn’t it!” Hermione sputtered. She was still not quite sure how the whole falling-on-Harry incident had happened, but she couldn’t help thinking that it was…really…different. Different… and…satisfying… having Harry’s arms around her for that brief moment.

Harry just stood there, stunned, not so much by being caught, but by the feelings he had just had as Hermione had landed on top of him in the broom closet. He could have sworn that she…well, after the initial shock when she tensed up, it didn’t seem like she was resisting all that much… And, it was so familiar, somehow…and not only that, it was VERY nice, as if she…well, he really didn’t want to dwell too much on those thoughts…no, actually, he did, but not with Professor McGonagall around!

Minerva, however, had been unable to keep from expressing her recent thoughts, although she had lowered her voice to her most intimidating and said, “Yes, Miss Granger, that is an understatement! I’m waiting for a reasonable explanation as to why it looked like you were …well, snogging with Mr. Potter right now…in a broom closet…on a Saturday… wearing those shameful MUGGLE clothes, mind you!”

“Well, you see, Professor, it’s all my cat’s fault…” Hermione started, realizing immediately how bad that must sound. “She’s right, Professor! We were just …” Harry added, trying to be helpful.

“Silence! You two, follow me to my office, now! We’ll get to the bottom of this, hopefully without drawing too much attention from your classmates!”

*

“Of all the crazy, wild tales I’ve ever heard, you two, that has to be one of the least believable!” Remus said, as he stared at Hermione and Albus across Dumbledore’s desk. “However, since I trust Albus probably at least as much as he trusts me, and with the evidence staring me in the face, I have to believe the story. I’m not sure I accept it, yet, but I have to believe it. So, Voldemort has resorted to playing with time lines, has he? He must be getting desperate in the time you came from. I must say, this is a stretch, even for him!”

“Well, that’s exactly what the future Dumbledore thought.” Hermione said. For the first time in over two years in the presence of others, she had reversed her appearance charms and took the aging potion antidote that Dumbledore had in his office, as a final proof to Remus that she was who she said she was. “That REALLY feels good, I must admit” she said, as she reverted completely back to her now 19-year old self. “He kept on saying that Tom’s pride in his abilities and his overconfidence may just result in his downfall. Although, by the look of things in my neighborhood when I left, it looked like he had been successful.”

Both Dumbledore and Lupin nodded knowingly at each other as they smiled. “Well, my dear, brave Hermione,” Albus said, “don’t be so quick to assume that things will stay that way.” And, the two of them proceeded to explain to Hermione some of the paradoxes involved with time-loop theory…

******

“Of all the crazy, wild tales I’ve ever heard, you two, that has to be one of the least believable!” Minerva said, as she stared at a chagrined 14-year-old Hermione and a 13-year old Harry across her desk. “However, since I did witness your cat leaving the broom closet as if Hagrid’s Fluffy were chasing him, and I did see the floor brush under your feet when I got closer, Harry, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. It helps, too, that you are both bearing other evidence that verifies your story. You’d both better go see Madam Pomfrey – those scratches look pretty deep! Oh, before you go, a word of caution, though. Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, if you ever want to visit a broom closet with each other, PLEASE remember to not do it in the middle of the day!” At Hermione’s scandalized expression, Minerva chuckled. “Sorry, Hermione, I couldn’t resist taking the mickey out of you just now! But, that does help to confirm your story even more. The shocked look on your face right now would have been hard to fake! As a result, I won’t be taking any points from either house, but I will be notifying the Headmaster of this incident. I’m sure he will find the whole thing quite amusing! After you get your wounds looked at, the two of you had better go find Miss Granger’s cat. I’m sure Mrs. Norris won’t appreciate the competition, having another cat patrolling the halls tonight! Hermione, you’d better take Harry along – if Crookshanks is as upset as he seemed at you, you might need some help. Just don’t trap him in a broom closet this time, okay?”

Harry and Hermione both grinned guiltily, but then Harry remembered something.

“Professor McGonagall, ma’am? I meant to ask Professor Snape about this, but seeing as how you’re here, I thought I could check with you, since you are the Assistant Headmistress and all.”

“Yes, Potter?”

Harry took a deep breath.

“Professor, my aunt and uncle – er – forgot to sign my Hogsmeade permission form,” he said.

******- See “The Flight of the Fat Lady” – US edition p. 150 – down until “There was nothing to be done.” - with the obvious difference that Ron wasn’t egging him on.) ******

“Yes, Hermione, I’m sure I will be able to help you with that part of your plans for this year.” Remus said, as they heard someone knocking on Albus’s office door. Before Hermione could even start to re-establish her appearance charms, Dumbledore opened the door with a wave of his hand. “Headmaster, wait…I’m not…” she said shrilly, as she started to duck behind the desk.

“You’re not what, my dear?” Minerva said as she closed the door quickly behind her. “Don’t worry; do you honestly think that Albus would let just anyone in when you looked like that? Oh, hello, Remus…I see you’ve been officially introduced to our visitor from the future, then? So, what was it, the twin wands or her scent that tipped you off?”

“Wands? Oh, yes…that would be a problem too; I see…well, since I don’t make it a point to go around looking at everyone’s wand, I guess that must have slipped past me. Of course, it was the scent that did it.” Lupin said, tapping the side of his nose.

“Same as Crookshanks, then! Hermione, didn’t we discuss staying away from that half-Kneazle of yours? What happened? As soon as I saw Crookshanks tear out of that broom closet I knew something big had to have upset him.” Minerva said, waiting for Hermione’s expected response.

She didn’t have to wait long. “Broom closet? What was Crookshanks doing in a broom closet?” Hermione said, confused.

“Well, it is the identity of the couple that I found on top of each other in the broom closet afterwards that is much more interesting, my dear!” Minerva’s eyes were crinkled in one of her rare smiles, as she saw the wheels turning in Hermione’s head.

“No…you’re not serious…me? And…HIM? On top of each other…in a BROOM CLOSET?” And then, she surprised everyone by letting out a triumphant laugh. “Well, it’s about time she put some of our Gryffindor courage to good use! Wish I would have had the guts to do that to him myself, when I was her age! But back then, I wasn’t really thinking of him that way yet, come to think of it. Although, that reminds me, I was actually on my way to talk to you about what Harry told me this afternoon…”

*

On Halloween morning, Harry awoke with the rest of his Slytherin housemates and went down to breakfast, feeling slightly depressed that he wasn’t going to Hogsmeade, but mainly still feeling confused about what had happened in the Entrance Hall the day before. He tried his best to act normally as he saw Hermione come in. He thought he saw her smile at him for just a second, before Ron walked up.

“Hermione,” he said impatiently, “you’re still coming with us, aren’t you? We’re just getting ready to leave. Don’t dawdle too long!” he said, looking at Harry. “Too bad you can’t come too, Potter! You’re missing out!” He headed towards Dean, Lavender, and Seamus, who were waiting at the door.

“I’ll bring you back something from Honeydukes,” Hermione said, looking desperately sorry for him. “Meet me in the Great Hall after we get back?”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Harry, in what he hoped was an offhand voice. “I’ll catch up with you before the feast, then? Have a good time.”

After he watched the group of happy, chattering students until the walked out of sight, he wandered around the castle for a while. He really didn’t want to go back to his room (<It’s way too depressing to be there by myself,> he thought) so he found himself walking towards the library. “What am I doing, Potter?” he said as he realized where his feet were taking him. “She’s not going to be there, now is she? Get a grip!” He turned around and came face to face with Filch, who had obviously just seen off the last of the Hogsmeade visitors.

******CANON – page 153 -4******

“Sit down,” said Lupin, taking the lid off a dusty tin. “I’ve only got teabags, I’m afraid – but I daresay you’ve had enough of tea leaves?”

Harry looked at him. Lupin’s eyes were twinkling.

“How did you know about that?” Harry asked.

“The more appropriate question is, how could I have not known about that, Harry,” said Lupin, passing him a chipped mug of tea. “Some of your housemates have a propensity to gossip, as you know, so the story about you having a Grim in your tea leaves has made the rounds quite a few times. I’ll admit, it gets more interesting each time I hear it!” He noticed that Harry seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Anything worrying you, Harry?”

******CANON – page 155 -7******

“There you go! I brought back as much as I could. I tried to get Ron to pitch in a little, but he didn’t seem all that interested. Besides, he had all of his sweets eaten before we got back to the castle.” Hermione said with some disdain as she dumped treats in his outstretched hands. Harry had just happened to be hanging around the Entrance Hall when she got back, her face still pink from the cold wind and with a happy smile on her face as she saw him.

“Thanks,” said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. “What’s Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?’

“Harry, never mind about that. We can talk about that later. But now, I think we need to discuss something else, just the two of us. Here, have a seat.” At the look of fear that crossed his face, she soothed, “Don’t worry, Harry, I won’t bite…much!” she said, reminding him of what he said to Ginny the previous year.

“Just…the…two of us?” he said with a shaky voice. “Are…are you sure that now is a good time? I mean, we’ve…I’ve got to get ready for the feast tonight, yeah, that’s right…”

“Honestly, Harry! You’d think I’d asked you to go hunt another basilisk or something! Is the thought of talking to me all that scary?” she said with a touch of worry in her voice.

“Scary? No, of course not…well, maybe a little, depending…” he stammered.

“Depending on what? What are you worried about, Harry?”

“Well, you know…the whole broom closet thing…I’m afraid…you thought I did that on purpose…which I didn’t, by the way, and that you might not want to be around me anymore because of that and you are going to tell me to stay away from you or something.”

“Oh. Is that what you thought? And why, pray tell, would that bother you?”

“Pray tell? Hermione, why do you have to talk like that? You sound like McGonagall sometimes.”

“Don’t you dare change the subject, Harry! Answer me! Why would it bother you if I wasn’t around?”

“Do I have to spell it out, Granger?” he said with frustration. “Okay, I …like you, Hermione! Of all the students at Hogwarts, you’re the one who has been the closest thing I have to a real friend, and you’re not even in my house! Blaise is okay, but besides the whole ‘despising Malfoy’ thing, we don’t have a whole lot in common. He is a pure-blood, you know, and I just don’t think we’ll ever really understand each other.”

(<Just like Ron and me…> Hermione thought to herself.)

“…but you,” Harry continued, “…you seem to want to know me as me, not as The-Boy-Who-Lived, or even the boy who killed the basilisk last year.” He looked up to see her reaction, and what he saw in her eyes encouraged him to continue. “And then, yesterday, when…well, when you landed on top of me in the broom closet, for a second there…well, you know!” His face was starting to noticeably redden.

“Know what, Harry?” she said with encouragement. “What about the broom closet? Go on, you’re doing fine.”

“You are an EVIL witch, you know that, don’t you?” he said with a wry grin. “Okay…well, right after you landed on me, I could have sworn that…that you…well, didn’t mind all that much being there. But then, McGonagall came, and you seemed so…upset, I thought that you were disgusted with me for grabbing you like that.”

“Oh, Harry…” he could have sworn she nearly purred. “Now it’s my turn to be honest with you. Having your arms around me felt…well, pleasant…nice…I don’t know quite how to describe it. But, just so you know, disgust had nothing to do with what I was feeling then. What you sensed was probably the guilt I felt when Professor McGonagall caught us that way – nothing at all against you!” she said quietly. “But the question now becomes, what are we going to do about this? I assume from what you said that you didn’t mind me being there all that much?”

“So…fishing for something, Hermione? I already told you that I like you. I think someone as clever as you are can figure it out. But, before you ask, it wasn’t having you on top of me that made me start to like you. It just woke me up, I guess! It felt like…well, you were where you belonged! Yes, I’ll admit, I would have really liked it better if we hadn’t been interrupted right then…not that I would have tried to snog you or something,” he added hastily, “but I was quite happy as it was,” he said as a silly grin appeared on his face. “I don’t know, Hermione. What do you think we should do? I mean, obviously we can’t ignore what happened, what we both felt, but under the circumstances, you know, us being in different houses and all, it might be a little…awkward?”

Harry could see that Hermione was in deep thought. He barely heard her whisper something that sounded like “…where I belong…yes…” but he wasn’t sure. Finally, she noticed that he was still sitting there. “Oh, sorry, Harry, just off in my thoughts for a moment. Yes, well, Harry, I’ve thought about this a lot since yesterday, and I realized you’re probably right. Under the circumstances, it’s reminding me way too much of a Romeo and Juliet rehash- you know, the whole “star-crossed lovers, warring houses” thing. And, I sure don’t want us to both end up dead because of a misunderstanding like that one!” she laughed. When she saw that Harry looked extremely confused, she said. “Harry, surely you’ve read…or at least heard about Romeo and Juliet, right? A thirteen-year-old girl falls in love with a prince from another house? You know, the whole balcony scene? Didn’t your Muggle school have a section on Shakespeare? Mine did!”

Harry was quite embarrassed. “Well, yeah, I’ve heard about Shakespeare, and something about Romeo and Juliet, but, no, I’ve never read that story. Maybe you can tell it to me some time?” he said, hopefully. <Potter, you must have it bad for her…asking her to tell you a love story? You’re a thirteen-year-old boy, we just don’t DO those kind of things.> And, right then, he had the strangest thought come to his mind that he really wasn’t thirteen, but eighteen. Before he could say anything, though, he realized Hermione was answering his question.

“Oh, Harry, I’d love to! Oh, look at the time! We do have to get ready for the feast tonight, so can you give me a rain check on that? We’ll do it really soon, Harry,” said Hermione earnestly. “I promise.”

As soon as she said that, she saw that Harry’s face went completely blank, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she touched his arm. “What is it, Harry? Did you just have one of your memory flashes?”

Harry nodded, but said quickly. “Hermione, before you ask, I’m not quite ready to tell you about what I just saw in my mind. Someday, maybe, but not yet. I promise you’ll be the first to know. I just have to think about it for a while. Is that okay?”

“Oh…sure, Harry, if you think that’s best. Just promise me you won’t keep it to yourself too long, deal?”

“Deal! And, you’ve got to promise me that you’ll tell me about that bloke Romeo sometime, too!” and with that, they shook hands, stood up, and went back to their rooms to get ready for the Halloween feast.

******

After Harry returned to his room after the feast that night, he was happily stuffed with food and treats, but he was as emotionally as happy as he had been…well, for a long time. He had seen Hermione looking at him across the hall on more than one occasion, but she would look quickly away whenever she got caught. Finally, frustrated by her little game, he looked right at her, winked, and she grinned and winked back before she turned to talk to Lavender Brown and one of the Patil twins – he could never keep the two of them straight in his mind.

He had just started to get ready for bed when he heard a loud voice ring out. “All Slytherin students! Please return to the Great Hall, at once. This is an emergency! NOW!”

When they got to the hall, they found that all of Gryffindor House was already there, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw houses were coming in from different directions, all looking extremely confused.

Chapter 22 – A Match, a Map, and a Broom

(A/N – One of my reviewers mentioned that the *CANON* breaks in the last chapter were slightly irritating, and made a good case to support her opinion, but I don’t know a better way to note the canon sections. There is a LOT of canon included in this chapter, marked with the ****** marks again, so if you have a copy of POA it might be good to have it ready if you want to follow along – your choice, of course.)

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder. Strangely enough, only a few students were somewhat curious about why he had apparently tried to enter Gryffindor tower, when his supposed target was a member of Slytherin house.

Three of those curious students had discussed that very subject in the Great Hall when they found themselves in sleeping bags next to each other that night. “It just doesn’t make any sense, Harry!” Hermione said. “Surely he’s heard which house you are in, especially if he is a supporter of You-Know-Who like everyone says!”

Harry pondered on this for a moment. “Well, I don’t know, Granger…maybe he got confused or something. I mean, he didn’t even remember that we would all be in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast tonight, either.”

“I reckon he’s lost track of time, being on the run,” said Ron. “Didn’t realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he’d have come bursting in here.”

******

“Potter, please have a seat.” Professor Snape said, firmly. He had told Harry to meet him in his office after Potions that day.

“Yes, sir. May I ask what you wanted to see me about?”

“There’s no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter,” he said in a very serious voice. “I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black -”

“I know he’s supposed to be after me,” said Harry wearily. “I overheard a member of the Ministry talking about it earlier in the year.”

“Let me guess, Arthur Weasley, correct? Well, I never thought he was too good at keeping secrets.” Snape sneered. “Well, in that case, let’s get to the point. I have been instructed by others at this school to remove you from the Quidditch training sessions until…the alleged attacker has been apprehended. While I understand their concern, I informed them that I felt this was completely unnecessary. You know the situation, of course…with Malfoy continuing to milk the ‘injury’ to his arm to get out of class work, we are already down one player. As you know, we can play if we are down a Chaser, but we can’t play at all without a Seeker. Since, fortunately for us, you are the official backup Seeker, Flint was intending to start you on Saturday. However, if you are not allowed to play, we will be forced to forfeit and Gryffindor will play Hufflepuff instead. I am told that they consider my plans to have you play are a result of my obvious desire to see Slytherin defeat Gryffindor once again, instead of being concerned for your safety. I asked that I be allowed to discuss it with you, and see what your feelings were, before a final decision would be made.”

“Me…Seeker…against Gryffindor?” Harry’s eyes grew wide as he realized what he had just heard. “But…Sir…they can’t do this to me…to the team! I mean, Black didn’t even come anywhere near me, now did he? We’ve got our first match on Saturday! I’ve got to train, Professor!”

Snape said, dryly, “I take that as a sign that you would rather play, then? Hmmm… very good, Potter, but for a minute there, you sounded more like a Gryffindor than a Slytherin.” Harry looked at his head of house and saw his eyes betray the smile that he was trying to suppress. “I will propose a compromise which I hope will be accepted by the powers that be. If a teacher, perhaps Madam Hooch, were to oversee your training sessions, this should provide sufficient protection to calm their worries. Is that acceptable, Potter?”

“Yes, sir! As long as I get to play Seeker against Gryffindor Saturday, I’ll be willing to put up with just about anything!” Harry said, somewhat prophetically.

******

Within five minutes of leaving the ground after Madam Hooch had blown her whistle to start the match, Harry was soaked to his skin and frozen, hardly able to see his teammates, let alone the tiny snitch. <Just great,> he thought, <my first chance as a Seeker in a real match, and we have to have it during a gale!> He flew backward and forward across the field past blurred red and green shapes, with no idea what was happening in the rest of the game. Twice Harry came very close to being unseated by a Bludger; his vision was so clouded by the rain on his glasses he hadn’t seen them coming.

With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle; Harry could just see Marcus Flint’s unmistakable outline through the thick rain, gesturing him to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.

“Gryffindor called for time-out, the wimps!” Flint roared at his team to be heard over the wind. “Come on, over here -” and he led them, Harry noticed, not under an umbrella like Gryffindor had set up, but into a circle on the edge of the field. “Hmmph,” Flint said, sneering, “those weakling Gryffs can’t even handle a little rain. So much for bravery, eh, Potter?”

Actually, Harry was slightly jealous of the Gryffindors, especially since his vision was still quite obstructed by the large raindrops that were pelting all of them. Help came from an unexpected source, however. As he heard Marcus encouraging the team by telling them that they were fifty points up in the worst storm to hit a Hogwarts Quidditch Match since 1894, he felt someone come up behind him.

“Miss Puckle? What are you doing here?” Harry said, goggling at her beaming face under her cloak.

“Well, I could tell you were having trouble seeing things, Harry, so I thought I’d help you with your vision. Honestly, I’d swear that you can’t see something right in front of your face, eh, Potter?” He could have sworn she was almost flirting with him as she said this. “Besides, its not like you are playing Ravenclaw, now is it? And, maybe, some of your housemates may just figure out that I’m not all that horrible! Give me your glasses, quick!”

Curious as to what she was going to do, he handed them to her. As the team watched with barely concealed disdain for the “Mudblood” professor in their midst, Harmony tapped them with her wand and said, “Impervius”.

“There!” she said, smiling widely at him as she handed them back to Harry. “They’ll repel water!”

For a brief second, Harry had the distinct urge to grab his Charms professor and kiss her right in front of the whole school. <Where did that idea come from?> he thought wildly. <Not a good idea, Potter! That’s just not right! Why is Miss Puckle acting like that, anyway?>

Harry could say one thing for sure, though; Harmony’s spell had done the trick. He was still numb with cold, still wetter than he’d ever been in his life, but he could see. Full of fresh determination, and with a fifty-point lead, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath the Gryffindor Seeker, who was streaking in the opposite direction…

******

Scariest…the scariest thing… hooded black figures…cold…screaming…

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing, eyes still quite blurry since his glasses seemed to be missing. Someone who looked vaguely like Marcus Flint was standing next to his bed spattered with mud from head to foot. “Oh, so you’re awake, Potter…guess the fall didn’t kill you after all! Although, since you lost the match for us with that little stunt, I’m not sure you wouldn’t have been better off. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but just a word of warning from your team captain…your housemates aren’t all that happy with you right now. And to think, I actually thought you were a better Seeker than Malfoy? At least he can stay on his broom for a whole match! Well, now that I know you’re not dead, I’ll leave you to the nurse.” And with that, Flint turned on his heel in a huff and left.

“Wh…what was that all about?” Harry said, still a bit groggy and unable to see. “What happened…why am I in bed? Did Marcus just say…we lost?”

A completely unexpected voice answered him. “Yes, Potter, we won…but we don’t have to like how it happened. In fact, we were all just coming in to offer a rematch to Flint when he stormed out of here. I heard what he said, Potter. Is there anything we can do for you? We all honestly thought you had died.”

Someone, obviously female from the sound, made a small squeaky noise when he said this.

“Oliver? Oliver Wood? Is that you? Where are my bloody glasses? I can’t see anything!” Harry pleaded. He was surprised when he felt his glasses being handed to him by someone with very soft skin, who was still breathing unevenly as he put them on. “Hermione? Wh...why are you here? What’s going on?” As he could now see, he looked around and found that the entire Gryffindor team, along with Ron and Hermione, were now gathered around his bed.

“Potter,” said one of the Weasley twins, “How’re you feeling? You fell…must have been –what- fifty feet!”

“Yeah, but before that, you did some of the best flying I’ve seen, Harry!” Wood’s love of Quidditch skill was rapidly overcoming his concern for Harry’s well-being. “Not that I mind, all that much, seeing as you’re on Slytherin, but why aren’t you their regular Seeker? Marcus must be a fool to keep you as Chaser! I mean, if it hadn’t been for those…things attacking you, you would have easily caught the snitch. Just a few more seconds is all it would have taken! And now, it looks like your ‘loyal teammates’ are going to want to sack you. Better for us, I’m sure, since now we have a chance to win the Cup for the first time in years, but we all think it’s a raw deal you’re getting. Like I said, I want to offer Flint a rematch, but only if you’re the Seeker. We don’t want to win that way.”

“It’s not over yet, said the twin who had spoken earlier. (George? No, that’s Fred…Harry thought.) “We won by a hundred points, since Slytherin was up 50 when we got the Snitch, right? So…we still have to beat Ravenclaw, and…”

“Oh, shut it, Fred.” Ron said, surprising everyone. “Can’t you see Harry’s still in bad shape here? As much as I love Quidditch, there’s a time and a place for all that stuff later. Now leave him in peace, you lot!”

The team trooped out, muttering condolences and muted congratulations for surviving the fall. Ron watched them leave, and then continued. “Potter, I have to admit, I’ve not been too much of a fan of yours, you being in Slytherin and all. But, Hermione and Ginny have been working on me quite a bit these last two years whenever I’d listen to them, telling me to give you a chance. I still wasn’t convinced, though. But, something about seeing you flying so…brilliantly today in that storm, and then seeing you fall so far because of those…dementors, something inside of me just seemed to snap. It was almost as if I was watching my best mate nearly die right before me. Weird, huh? It’s not like we’ve been too close, but I promise you, Harry, for some crazy reason, I’m on your side now. All right, Potter?” And, once again, he stuck out his hand.

Harry was slightly befuddled as he stared at Ron’s hand. “R...right, Ron”, but as he shook Weasley’s hand, he again felt that this was…familiar. “But, could someone explain to me what happened? I’m still confused as to why I’m here in bed. I sort of remember seeing…a Grim in the stands …reaching for the Snitch…and the dementors…”

“Dumbledore was really angry,” Hermione said in a quaking voice. “I’ve never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, then he waved his wand and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away…He was furious they’d come onto the grounds. We heard him -”

“Then he magicked you onto a stretcher,’ said Ron. “And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…”

“Yeah, I know…dead!” Harry said sharply, but he immediately felt bad about it as he saw that Ron and Hermione were both honestly concerned about him. “Sorry, guys…it’s just…well, we lost and all…and I heard someone screaming…” he said, still not sure who he had heard. “Wait a minute…what happened to my broom? Did anyone get my Nimbus?”

******

The following Tuesday, Harry was happy to see Professor Lupin back in class. According to Professor Snape, who had substituted during their last lesson, Lupin had been quite ill and unable to teach. Since Harry had been in the Hospital Wing for most of the weekend, he had been unable to finish the werewolf essay they had been assigned. So, before class began, he went up to talk to his professor. “Sir, may I have a word with you? It’s about Professor Snape’s assignment. I…well, you’ve probably heard, but I was in the hospital…”

“Don’t worry about that, Potter. I’ve already told all the other classes that they don’t have to complete Professor Snape’s idea of a little assignment. Miss Granger in Gryffindor is the only one I know of that finished it; and I’m sure that few, if any, of your classmates did. At least you had a valid excuse, Harry!” he said with a smile. “But, see me afterwards… there is something else I’d like to talk to you about. Go ahead and be seated, now.”

Harry had a very enjoyable lesson…

******

As Lupin finished his description of why dementors affected him so strongly, and had agreed to teach him how to fight them off, Harry had one more thing he felt he needed to get off his chest. “Sir…you’re a teacher, and a guy, and all that. I…well…I need to ask you about something…something else that happened at the match.”

“What is it, Harry? Is it about the Grim you thought you saw?” Lupin’s eyes were focused on his.

“No, sir, although I wonder how you knew about that? … No, it…it’s Miss Puckle, sir! I…she…well, I keep on feeling…that…you know…” and he blushed red, “I think she’s got a crush on me or something…and I don’t know what to do!”

Remus was taken aback for a second, and then Harry was surprised to see him start to chuckle. “Harry, sometimes you really amaze me…I heard from Ron and Hermione that you told them you saw a Grim in the stands, you get attacked by dementors, almost get yourself killed because of it, and you seem to be more concerned now about a teacher having a crush on you? You know, most boys your age would be bragging about something like that, not worried about it! So, tell me why you think that about her?”

“It’s just…well; it seems that whenever I’m around her, she’s always smiling at me… differently than she does with the other boys in my class. And, before you ask, yes, I do think she is very pretty, especially when she smiles, but something doesn’t seem right about it somehow. I’ve heard stories about adults accused of getting well, involved with students in the Muggle news, and even if they are proven innocent they end up getting sacked because of it. I don’t want her to get in trouble with Dumbledore, you know, and I’m afraid that she will if she keeps this up. Someone’s bound to notice, especially after what she did for me at the Quidditch match. I mean, everyone there had to see that she was flirting with me a little bit when she was fixing my glasses. I’ve heard as much from a few of my housemates, at least those few that are still speaking to me!”

“Potter, I’m very glad you came to me about this first.” Lupin said seriously. “I have actually gotten to know Miss Puckle quite well recently, and we have even talked about you in some detail. Without going into specifics, Harry, you can rest assured that what you are sensing as a possible crush from her is actually her deep concern for you as a student and as a person. She sees that you, being a ‘half-breed’, he said the term with obvious disgust, “will continue to have a struggle 'fitting in' in the house you were placed in. She is trying to…oh, what’s the Muggle term… ‘cut you some slack’, as it were. She wants you, above all else, to be safe. That’s why she helped you with your glasses. Not all adults who are friendly to younger people have ulterior motives, you know. Most of us are really just regular people who are trying to be nice. Unfortunately, there are those among us who can’t be trusted, and yes, you do need to be careful always. My advice to you in this case, however, is to trust her, Harry. She is a very formidable witch to have on your side, you know, along with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley! She has even asked me to help, to be honest. Quite the team of supporters you have there, Potter! Now, off you go. I’ve got a lot to do to catch up. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.”

******

Two weeks before the end of term, to everyone’s delight except Harry’s, an announcement was made concerning another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term. Hermione seemed excited about some Christmas shopping she could finish up, and Ron was excited about being able to restock his candy supplies (which, honestly, didn’t ever last too long).

Resigned to the fact that he would be the only third year staying behind again, Harry borrowed a copy of Which Broomstick from Flint, who was the only member of the Quidditch team that would even talk to him. “I don’t know why you’re bothering, Potter. I’m still not sure you have a position on the team. Professor Snape and I are still discussing our options. For now, that old Shooting Star you’re riding is probably more suited to your abilities, I’d say.”

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry bid good-bye to Ron and Hermione, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned back to return to the Slytherin common room. As he was walking along a dark passageway, he felt something hard hit him in the back of the head, followed by an unmistakable cackle. “PEEVES!” he yelled at the poltergeist that was hovering over his head, upside down, making an obscene gesture at him between his legs. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

“Just following instructions, wee little Potty!” he giggled. “Doing what the note told me to do and all!”

“What note? What are you talking about?” Harry said as he picked up a small rock, wrapped in a piece of old parchment, with a note attached.

“Found it, I did! It was addressed to me, even! So, I did just what it said, although I probably would have anyway!” he continued to smile wickedly. “The note said, PEEVES…that’s me, you know…take this rock and parchment, and go hit Potter in the head with it! And, I thought, what a clever thing to do! So, I went looking for you, and I did it!” And with that, he floated off, cackling merrily.

Harry picked up the parchment and untied it from the rock. As he did so, he saw the attached note to Peeves fade out, and the words changed to read something completely different in an unfamiliar script.

Mr. Potter,

Sorry about the headache you probably have, but it was the best I could come up with under the circumstances. Besides, I probably made Peeves’ day today and I owe him a little for something that happened earlier this year. Whatever you do, Harry, don’t discard this parchment. I think you will find its unique properties very useful to you. Just think about what you would like to be doing right now, and I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

A friend

Harry, rubbing the knot that was forming on his head, was very confused by all this. “What do I need with a bit of old parchment? Last time I got an anonymous gift like this, it ended up being pretty useful, though. Wonder what it does? Hmm…I’ll go to the library and look at it closer.”

As he walked back into the Entrance Hall on his way to the Library, he heard the Weasley twins across the way, engaged in an obviously heated discussion…er…argument. He couldn’t help overhearing their conversation. “You stupid git,” Fred was saying to George, “why’d you have to let him see you with it! We’ve had that for years now!”

George retorted, “Oh, shut it, Fred…we know it by heart anyway! What’s the big deal? We were going to let Ron have it for Christmas, weren’t we?”

Fred smiled, “Yeah, but now we have to actually buy our little Ronniekins something, don’t we? Well, off to Hogsmeade, I guess, after all!” and they headed towards the front doors. “Hey, Filch…we’ve changed our minds. Not too late, is it?”

In the library, Harry went to one of the more private tables, one that Hermione and he had used when they were working on their joint research the previous year. It was in a section that hardly anyone visited because the books in that area had a tendency to bite you if you got too close to them. Hermione had discovered a counter charm to put the books to sleep, so they were able to sit there safely with little chance of being observed.

He spread the parchment out on the table, and picked up the note again. “What did it say…oh, yes… Just think about what you would like to be doing right now... he read, and he concentrated on walking down the road to Hogsmeade. To his astonishment, he saw a small ink figure appear on the map, labeled Harry Potter. As he watched, the figure pulled out his wand, tapped a piece of parchment he was holding, and a tiny speech bubble appeared. In it, in miniscule writing, were the words “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

“Well, here goes nothing!” Harry thought, as he did exactly as he had been shown.

And, at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider’s web from the point his wand had touched…

******

Harry didn’t have a very clear idea of how he had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All he knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that he hardly noticed what he was doing, because his head was still pounding with the conversation he had just heard.

Harry found himself back in his dorm room, alone, completely shocked. Why had nobody ever told him? Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley, Snape, Fudge…why hadn’t anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harry’s parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them? He looked over at the one picture he had managed to find of his parents on their wedding day. He had come across it in an old moldy box of Petunia’s he had found in the attic the previous summer, when she had given him one of his many ‘character building’ cleaning assignments. It drew his attention at the time because it was obviously a wizard photograph that his mother must have sent to her sister, probably in an attempt to mend fences. There was his father, waving up at him…his mother, arm in arm with his dad. And there…that must be him. Their best man…Harry had never given him a thought before.

******

The dormitory door opened.

“Harry?” said Blaise’s voice uncertainly. “Where were you at dinner tonight? You’re not still upset about losing that Quidditch match, are you? It’s been weeks, Potter! Give it a rest! You know there are a few of us that don’t care about that rot. We’re still with you! Well, my parents just came to pick me up and I wanted to check on you before I left. See you next term!”

But Harry lay still, pretending to be asleep. He heard Blaise leave again, and rolled over on his back, his eyes now wide open.

******

“Harry, you look terrible.”

Harry hadn’t gotten to sleep until daybreak. He had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed, and gone down through his also empty common room, out to the Great Hall, where a few students seemed to have gathered. He found Ron (who had stayed because he said he couldn’t stand two weeks with Percy) and Hermione (who said something about needing to catch up on her class work) sitting together at a table next to a big fireplace that was now in the hall. <Strange, I don’t remember that being here during meals. Must be something new.>

Hermione must have been serious about her studying, because she had commandeered a large section of table with the homework she had spread out. “Hermione, this is ridiculous!” he said as he saw all the books she was using. “No wonder you stayed here – you wouldn’t have been able to get this all on the Hogwarts Express! I know you’re a bit of a swot, and all,” he said with a wink, earning a glare from her as he said it, “but isn’t this too much, even for you?”

“Oh, shut it, Potter,” she said with a slight grin. “You know I’m taking a few extra courses. Besides, this gives me a chance to use the library without anyone else around.”

“Where is everyone?” said Harry.

“Gone! It’s the first day of the holidays, remember?” said Ron, watching Harry closely. “It’s nearly lunchtime; we were wondering if you were ever going to come down. I was about ready to ask Filch to go roust you out of bed!”

Harry slumped into a nice, comfortable chair that had been set next to the fire. He could tell from the magical ceiling that snow was still falling outside. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug…

******

On Christmas morning, Harry woke up, again quite alone in his Slytherin dorm room. “Wonder what anonymous gift I’m getting this year?” he said, half-jokingly, as he put on his glasses. “Just as long as Peeves doesn’t throw it at me, whatever it is.” So, he was not at all surprised when he saw only one present at the foot of his bed, a long, thin package.

Harry ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming, broomstick rolled out onto his bedspread.

It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Harry had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as he picked it up.

<I’ve got to show this to Ron and Hermione! Bet they’re in the Great Hall already! Wow! Won’t they be surprised?> Since the dress at Hogwarts during the holidays was decidedly informal in the mornings, Harry threw on his Slytherin dressing gown over his pyjamas and went down to find his friends.

Hermione, however (who looked really cute in her dressing gown, Harry thought…) didn’t seem either excited or intrigued by his present. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.

******

“What d’you think Harry’s going to do with it – sweep the floor?’ said Ron. But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks jumped right at Ron’s chest.

“GET – HIM – AWAY – FROM – ME!” Ron bellowed as Crookshanks’s claws ripped his pyjamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks, at the same time dropping what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. It whirled and whistled on the floor, and Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.

“What is that, anyway?” Harry said, fascinated by the strange device.

“Oh, that’s a Pocket Sneakoscope. It must have fallen out of my dressing gown just now when I was attacked! My brother Bill sent it to me for a Christmas present all the way from Egypt. It’s supposed to light up and spin if there is someone untrustworthy around, but Bill said it’s just rubbish they sell to tourists and such. At first, I thought he was right, because it’s been spinning off and on all day, but I don’t know, though…seems to be detecting something untrustworthy right now, doesn’t it?”, he said as he glared, first at Crookshanks, and then at Hermione, who strode out of the room in a huff, glaring back at him.

“Can’t you shut that thing up?” Harry said, and Ron stuffed it in his pocket while he barely stifled his moans of pain and rage…

******

Later that evening, after another memorable feast, Harry (who really didn’t want to go back to an empty room) and Ron (who was still in awe of Harry’s good fortune) sat together next to the fireplace in the Great Hall, admiring the Firebolt. Harry had even brought out the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had sent him, but he could not find anything to do to it. Then, surprisingly, they saw an unexpected threesome heading their way. Hermione was in the lead, looking very determined, followed by both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, who looked as if he were more than a little annoyed at being included.

Hermione walked around them, sat down, picked up a nearby book, and hid her face behind it.

“So, that’s it, is it?” Snape said, walking over to the fireside and starting at the Firebolt. “Miss…Granger here, has notified her head of house that you were sent a broomstick, and the Assistant Headmistress has been so kind as to include me, for once, in matters pertaining to one of my charges.” He said this with a definite edge to his voice. “May I?” he continued, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he pulled the Firebolt out of their hands. He examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. “Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?”

“No, “said Harry blankly. He looked over at Hermione, who he could see was still hiding behind the book, which she was holding upside down. The small part of her forehead that he could see was noticeably red.

“I see…,” said Professor Snape. “Well, I’m afraid, as head of your house, I will have to take this, Potter. While I don’t necessarily agree with some people around here’s worst-case assessment of the situation,” he said, looking quickly at both Hermione and Minerva, “I must admit that it isn’t normal for such an expensive broom to be given to a student under these suspicious circumstances.”

“But…sir!” Harry was very exasperated as he realized what was about to happen to his new broom. “Wh…what are you going to do?”

Snape explained, somewhat impatiently, that the broom would have to be examined for jinxes and other problems. “Potter, I assure you that I, especially, would like to see you use this broom in your next Quidditch match. Hopefully you’ll be able to remain seated on such a fine model,” he said with a smirk. “But, it shouldn’t take more than a few weeks to investigate these wild claims, and I will personally return it to you when we find that it is jinx-free.”

He could tell that further protests were useless as the two adults left, Snape carrying the Firebolt rather gingerly. Harry stood staring at him, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

“What did you go running to McGonagall for? And, why did you have to bring Snape along, too?”

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron directly.

“Because I thought – and Professor McGonagall, at least, agrees with me – that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!”

(A/N – Well, that chapter covered a lot, didn’t it? All the way from Halloween to Christmas Day! As you can tell, most of the events in this chapter are very similar to the corresponding three chapters - Ch 9, 10, and 11 of POA -, so I again only wrote the key differences between the timelines. Hope it wasn’t too hard to follow! By the way, if you wondered how Fred and George learned how to operate the map in the first place, now you know my ideas on the subject!)

Chapter 23 – Conversations and a Stag

(A/N –This is one of the times when I will accelerate the canon timeline when it comes to certain events in this chapter, hopefully you will understand why as you read. Also, I am including an interlude I felt I needed to write in response to a comment that was made in an earlier review. I was asked if Harmony would intervene somehow to get Harry’s broom back to him quicker. My reviewer’s assessment happened to be right –although I didn’t admit it in my reply - but not necessarily for the reasons I had in mind. Well, maybe I’ll just let Harmony explain her thoughts on that subject…)

”Harmony, what have I done?” Hermione said, sobbing, as she lifted her head up from her teacher’s desk. “Are you sure I did the right thing with Harry’s broom? Now he’s angry at me, and Ron…is so furious with me he doesn’t even acknowledge I am around except to snap at me when I point out obvious things. Have I lost my only friends here?”

Harmony’s eyes were glistening, too, as she vividly remembered the pain she had felt when she had been going through this episode in her life. But, since she also remembered why the broomstick incident was so important in helping Hermione resolve her feelings for the two boys, she was determined to keep things from changing too much. She walked over and stood beside her younger version and rubbed her back and shoulders gently, unconsciously using the same words and movements that her mother had always used on her when she was upset. “Hush…it’ll be okay…I’m right here, Hermione, calm down…it’s okay. I’m still your friend, too, you know!”

Hermione’s sobbing seemed to slow, and she visibly relaxed. “Miss Puckle, that’s just what my mum says to me! Thanks – how’d you know how to do that?”

“Oh, I had a pretty good teacher…I have a mother, too, you know! She always knew just what to do to make me feel better. Glad I could help… Now, tell me all about it. Here, have a biscuit – they’re my favorite!”

“Oooh, mine too, Harmony! Where’d you get the recipe? These are just like the ones my mum makes for me when she has the time, but she said it was an old family recipe that no one else had.”

<Drat it all, Hermione, why’d you forget that little detail?> Miss Puckle thought to herself. <Better think of some excuse quickly!> “Hmm…well, maybe we’re related then, because my mother told me the same thing!” <Weak, Granger…but it’ll have to do. Besides, it IS the truth! Now, time for a quick distraction.> “We’ll talk biscuit recipes later, Hermione. I want to hear about this whole broomstick thing you said has made Mr. Potter angry at you and Mr. Weasley furious with you. How do you know that, anyway?

“W…well…”, Hermione said, still sounding quite shaky, “he hasn’t talked to me much, except the few times that Ron’s not around to glare at me or snap at me whenever I say anything. And then, Harry just gives me this sad…look…like he’s not too happy with me. I mean, it’s just a broom, right? Isn’t his life more important than that…to both of them?”

“Yes, Hermione, it would be, if they were capable of logical thought on the subject. They are teenage boys, you know,” Harmony said, rolling her eyes and eliciting a giggle from Hermione, “and from their perspective, you’ve taken away a very important part of Harry’s very existence. What makes it worse is that you are using the rather weak excuse, in their minds, anyway, that you’re just trying to keep him alive! Don’t worry, I can promise you that they do grow up…eventually – yes, even someone like Ron!”

Hermione looked appropriately shocked at this last declaration, but then she sighed, “That… boy…sometimes he can be so…well, irritating. I mean, all I wanted to do was have the broom checked out, for Harry’s sake. You are still working on it, aren’t you?”

“That’s right; Professor Flitwick and I have finished stripping it down…” At this, Hermione let out a gasp. “Don’t worry, my dear! We know what we’re doing! I can promise you I, for one, am being quite careful with this particular broom, and we will make sure it is returned to perfect working order before it is done. I have a feeling it will be very important to Harry in the future…that is, if it’s not jinxed or something!” she added quickly. “Then, we’ll let Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall check it over in their areas of expertise. Professor Snape would have checked it over too, but since I doubt a broomstick is at risk from a bad potion, we didn’t think that was necessary. Then, if it passes all of our inspections, we’ll get it back to Potter as soon as possible, well before Slytherin’s match against Ravenclaw a week from this coming Saturday. The more I think about it, though, maybe I should keep it a while longer!” At Hermione’s scandalized look, she laughed. “Don’t worry, my dear. Even though I am the assistant to the head of Ravenclaw, I assure you that I wouldn’t dream of doing something like that to him…er, the Slytherin team. Now, back to the other subject we were talking about. Let me reassure you about something. If I know Mr. Potter, yes, he is angry at you, and yes, Mr. Weasley is, most likely, furious with you. Do you see the difference? Think about the two words you used now. Come on, here’s a dictionary…check them for yourself!”

“Let me see,” she said, flipping through the pages, “…well, angry means a strong displeasure… and furious is an extreme anger, usually more uncontrolled. So…does that mean…?” Hermione pondered what she had just read.

“Go on, Hermione…I think you’re seeing what I’m getting at”, Harmony grinned.

“So…Harry’s not too happy with me, not that I really blame him – I would have been upset if he had Professor McGonagall take…oh, let’s say Crookshanks, away from me ‘for my own good’, too. But, you’re saying that Ron…is more upset with me than Harry is? But, that’s just silly! It’s not even his broom!”

Harmony smiled wisely, “Yes, well, just as I said, sometimes boys at this age can be rather foolish about things like that, especially when it’s a GIRL who is ‘interfering’ in their fun. Boys and their sports, you know! Ron’s just got it worse than some. Never fear, Hermione, they’ll get over it. I’m sure this will all be forgotten soon enough. Now, is that all you wanted to talk about? I get the feeling you had something else you wanted to ask me.”

“H…how’d you know? N…no, it’s nothing, really; it’s just silly, you being a teacher and all, now that I think about it,” Hermione stammered.

“Never mind how I know. Just come out with it, Hermione! Nothing you can say will surprise me!” she said, confidently. But, she found that she was wrong as the next words from Hermione were these:

“Harmony…do you have a crush on Harry?” she said quietly.

*****

That same evening, Professor Lupin was describing to Harry how to cast a Patronus charm in the History of Magic classroom.

“What does a Patronus look like?” said Harry curiously.

“Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it.”

“And how do you conjure it?”

“With an incantation - which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.”

Harry cast his mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to him at the Dursley’s, or in the Slytherin Common Room, for that matter, was going to do. Finally, he settled on the moment when he had first ridden a broomstick.

“The incantation is this -” Lupin cleared his throat. “Expecto Patronum!”

Harry repeated it a few times under his breath, but he forgot to concentrate on his happy memory until Lupin reminded him. Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. Lupin seemed pleased, and Harry was excited.

But, when they tried it on the boggart/dementor, Harry found himself waking up slowly, knowing immediately what had happened. After a moment to collect his thoughts and eat a Chocolate Frog, Harry indicated to Lupin that he was ready to try again. “I have to, Professor. I can’t afford to fall off my broom like that again, especially now! You know that Malfoy kept his arm in that fake sling so much last term that he can hardly move it at all, now. So, he won’t be ready to use it until the next match, at the earliest. Flint told me that I could still be Seeker against Ravenclaw, that is, if I get my Firebolt in time. ‘No Firebolt, no playing’, were his exact words. He also said if I fall off this time, he’ll personally take me down to the dementors…so, I’ve got to do this!

Lupin sighed, but gave Harry some important advice. “You might want to select another memory, a happier memory, I mean, to concentrate on…That one doesn’t seem to have been strong enough…”

Harry thought hard and decided that his feelings when he saw Lucius Malfoy bound in ropes, Snape ‘accidentally’ bouncing his head on the ground now and then, had definitely qualified as happy. He gripped his wand tightly again and took up his position in the middle of the classroom.

***

“You heard James?” said Lupin in a strange voice.

“Yeah…” Face dry, Harry looked up. “Why – you didn’t know my dad, did you?”

“I – I did, as a matter of fact,” said Lupin. “We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry – perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced…I shouldn’t have suggested putting you through this…”

“No!” said Harry. He got up again. “I’ll have one more go! I’m not thinking of happy enough things, that’s what it is…Hang on…”

He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory…one that he could turn into a good, strong, Patronus…

The happiest he had EVER been, that he could remember…was being in a broom closet, an accidental slip, and…Hermione in his arms, laying on top of him, and then telling him afterwards that she liked it too…followed by the memory of Hermione riding a Hippogriff with him, her arms tightly around him. If that wasn’t a happy set of memories, he didn’t know what was…Concentrating very hard on how he had felt both times with her so close to him, Harry got to his feet and faced the packing case once more.

“Ready?” said Lupin, who looked as thought he were doing this against his better judgment. “Concentrating hard? All right – go!”

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry bellowed. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The screaming inside Harry’s head had only started for a brief moment this time, until it was silent. He could still see the dementor – it had halted immediately, and then something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of Harry’s wand, to hover between him and the dementor. Harry, for once, felt almost no weakness, and he thought that he could hold the dementor off for quite some time.

“Riddikulus!” roared Lupin, springing forward.

There was a loud crack, and Harry’s semi-solid Patronus vanished along with the dementor. He still felt…well, not great, but not really weak, either as he watched Professor Lupin forcing the boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again.

“Excellent!” Lupin said, staring in amazement at Harry. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had to have done that before! You came close to making a corporeal Patronus on your third attempt! Whatever your happy memory was just now, keep it in mind if you ever have to face a dementor again! In fact, that’s something you can work on from now until our next lesson. Whenever you have a spare moment, concentrate on that memory – it will make it stronger each time.”

“Can we have another go? Just one more go?”

“Not now,” said Lupin firmly. “You’ve done quite well enough as it is. The next time we do this, we’ll have to do it somewhere with more room. If you practice like I just told you, I think it’s possible for you to create a full Patronus next week, which should be just in time for your next match!”

He handed Harry a large bar of Honeyduke’s best chocolate.

“Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. See you next Thursday?”

“Okay,” said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the dementor. A thought had just occurred to him.

“Professor Lupin?” he said. “If you knew my dad, you must’ve known Sirius Black as well.”

Lupin turned very quickly.

“What gives you that idea?” he said sharply.

“Nothing – I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts, too…”

Lupin’s face relaxed.

“Yes, I knew him,” he said shortly. “Or, I thought I did. “You’d better be off, Harry, it’s getting late.”

Harry left the classroom, continuing to work on the chocolate as he walked back towards the Slytherin common room. He wasn’t feeling all that weak, because his Patronus had been so powerful he wasn’t drained too much, but since he liked chocolate anyway he finished the rest quickly. “Wonder why Lupin wasn’t too keen on the subject of Sirius Black?” he thought. “I probably shouldn’t bring that up again. But, Lupin knew my dad…I’ll have to see if he can tell me something about him!”

***

“Harmony…do you have a crush on Harry?” she said quietly.

Harmony’s jaw dropped. <Well, I definitely wasn’t expecting that to come up…> she thought quickly as to how she could answer this question as truthfully as possible without making things worse. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, seriously, “What are you talking about, Hermione? Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Probably …well, the looks you give him when you think no one’s watching during meals, the smile on your face when you see him in the halls, and, oh, yes…there was that little thing at the Quidditch match when you did something to his glasses…Impervius, right? That’s what I would have used…Besides, I’ve heard some …talk, you know, from the girls that take Charms with Harry. They say you can’t keep your eyes off of him sometimes.”

“No, Hermione, I can promise you I don’t have anything that you would call a crush on him. But, if I didn’t know better, Hermione, reading between the lines on what you just said, I’m beginning to think that you may just be a little jealous about Harry…you must be watching him pretty closely to notice all that!”

“So, if you don’t have a crush on him,” Hermione pressed on, trying to ignore her teacher’s last comment but determined to get a straight answer now that she had drummed up the courage to ask, “could you tell me what you do feel about him?”

“Well, Miss Granger, I guess I could say that my personal feelings along those lines are really none of your business,” she said, her face impassive except for a slight crinkle around her eyes, “but under the circumstances, I suppose I can tell you. No, Hermione, I don’t have a crush on him. I do, however, care for him quite a lot, much as I do all of my students individually. To be completely honest with you, there is another very personal reason. I probably smile at him differently because he reminds me so much of a young man I knew when I was your age, attending my wizarding school. I assume that’s what you and those girls are seeing – that young man was my first real love, and I suppose that some of those old feelings show up when I look at Harry now. I can see how it could cause someone to get the wrong idea if they saw me like that. I promise I’ll try to do better – I surely don’t want to raise the Headmaster’s suspicions unnecessarily, you know. Wouldn’t look good on my record and all that! Now, does that make you feel better?”

“Well, I suppose so,” Hermione said, slowly. “But, I’ll have you know, I’m not jealous…No, that’s silly…I mean, he IS a boy, you know!” she said, somewhat unconvincingly since her face was starting to redden.

“Yes, well, whatever you say, Hermione,” she said with a twinkle. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, just as I’d appreciate you not telling anyone about my old friend at school, okay? And, in case you’re wondering, I think Harry is a fine young man for you to feel that way about…whatever your feelings are, that is.”

*****

After his great success with the Patronus, Harry found that he was no longer upset with Hermione about the Firebolt. He realized, as he considered the memories of her that had helped him against the dementors, that she was doing it for his own welfare, and he also knew, somehow, that things would work out fine. Ron, however, seemed to still hold a grudge against her, and that, along with her heavy class load, seemed to be getting to her. She looked extremely tired the few times he saw her at meals and on the weekend.

The following Thursday, Harry was looking forward to continuing his Patronus lessons with Professor Lupin. They had found a much larger classroom this time to practice in, since Lupin had a suspicion something special was going to happen this time. At Lupin’s suggestion, Harry had been working on remembering just exactly how he felt with his happy memory and he had never found a homework assignment so easy to work on. As a result, on his second attempt of the night, Harry was amazed to see a fully corporeal Patronus in the shape of a …stag…canter in a circle around the two of them.

“And that, Harry, concludes these after-hours lessons!” Professor Lupin said, stunned. “If any of my advanced students ever needs a demonstration of the Patronus charm from now on, I’ll just send them to you! Are you SURE you’ve never done this before I started teaching you last week?”

“N…no, sir…!” Harry was still quite surprised at what he had just done. “So, that was okay, then?”

“Not just okay, Potter, superb! Most wizards and witches, even ones that can successfully chase away a dementor, are not able to create a corporeal Patronus. Even fewer are able to make one as impressive in size and strength as yours is.” Lupin was barely successful in keeping a knowing smile to himself, as he had immediately recognized the implications of the particular form Harry’s Patronus had assumed. “Harry, I’m serious. There is no need for you to receive any more training from me. I have complete confidence in you. Here – you’ve earned a drink – something from the Three Broomsticks. You won’t have tried it before -”

He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase.

“Butterbeer!” said Harry without thinking. “Yeah, I like that stuff!”

Lupin chuckled to himself, knowing full well why Harry knew about butterbeer, but raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“Oh – Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade,” Harry lied quickly.

“I see,” said Lupin, though he tried hard to look suspicious. “Well, even though you do play for the despised Slytherin team, I suppose I can drink to a Slytherin victory against Ravenclaw this weekend! – Not that I’m supposed to take sides, as a teacher …,” he added hastily.

******

Ravenclaw was scheduled to play Slytherin in two days. As a result, Miss Puckle had made it a priority to finish her inspection of Harry’s broomstick in record time, as had McGonagall and Madam Hooch. As Harry returned from his successful Patronus lesson where he had heard about the dementor’s kiss from Remus, he was surprised to hear a familiar voice behind him.

“Potter, a word with you if you please!” his head of house said briskly. As Harry stopped and waited, Snape continued. “I’ve been looking for you in the house common room, and I was told you were elsewhere. Well, here it is, and as I suspected all along, the self-appointed experts at this school have been unable to find anything wrong with it at all. You’ve got a very good friend somewhere, Potter…”

Harry’s jaw dropped. He was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.

“I can have it back?” Harry said weakly. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” said Professor Snape, and he was almost smiling. “I daresay you will need to get the feel of it before Saturday’s match, won’t you? And Potter – do try to win, won’t you? Or, I’m afraid I will have to let Flint kick you off the team, which I was only able to prevent when I pointed out to him the inherent…advantages… of you riding this Firebolt as it is! We can still win the house cup, assuming we suffer no more losses this season, and I’d hate to have to relinquish that trophy to Professor McGonagall. It has been in my office for so many years now – I’m quite accustomed to it!”

Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back to the Slytherin Common Room. There was a slight murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people wanting to see the famous broom. He noticed, however, that the Gruesome Threesome did not join the curious throng, but Draco had a murderous look on his face as he started to whisper to his comrades.

After a while, he grew tired of the repeated requests for a chance to ride the broom, not to mention the serious offers to take it off his hands to keep him from making a fool of himself by falling off of it, and he realized immediately who he’d rather be sharing the news with. He excused himself, went to his room to get an old piece of parchment, and then left through the hidden entryway to the Slytherin common room.

In a deserted corridor, Harry took out his map, tapped it as before, and started his search. “Hmm, now where would she be…Gryffindor common room? No…Miss Puckle’s office? No, not there, either. Ah…there she is, I should have guessed!” and he immediately headed for their private table in the library.

“Can I sit down, then?” Harry asked Hermione as he came up behind her, carrying his Firebolt so she could see it.

“I suppose so, said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair. “I see you got your broom back,” she said, guiltily. “I saw Miss Puckle when I came in. She told me that there wasn’t anything wrong with it and she was taking it to Snape. Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry I put you through all that! Can you forgive me?”

“Sure, Hermione…I know you were probably just worried about me for some reason. No worries, though. I have it back, and I’m still going to be Seeker on Saturday, so there’s really nothing to forgive.”

Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay, and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over.

“Why aren’t you studying in your common room, Hermione?” Harry asked her. “Wouldn’t it be easier to not have to haul all of this stuff down here when you want to study?”

Hermione looked over at Harry with a pained look on her face. “If only it was that easy, Harry. If you must know, Ron’s been quite insufferable lately, and I’ve found that this is the best place for me to escape his not-so-subtle insults and snide remarks. Just this evening he accused Crookshanks…well, never mind…a few cat hairs and some bloody sheets don’t mean… well, he doesn’t venture into the scary depths of the library all that much, you know! Between the ongoing Crookshanks vs. Scabbers war, and the… thing with your Firebolt, well, let’s just say things haven’t been too pleasant for me in my house lately. After what happened tonight, I think our friendship may just be at an end. Sometimes I wish I had a referee to step between us, just to keep us from going at each other all the time.”

Harry froze for almost a minute this time, and Hermione knew immediately what was happening so she didn’t interrupt. Finally, when his eyes focused on her again, she said, “Don’t tell me…another memory? Am I allowed to ask about it this time, Harry?” she said with a sad grin. “You still haven’t told me about the last one, you know!”

Harry started to blush as he knew exactly why he wasn’t ready to talk about that memory yet, but he recovered quickly. “Yes…well, uh…this one was just weird…yeah, I guess I can tell you this one. It must have been something to do with what you were saying about a referee for you and Ron just now, because I just saw…well, it was more complicated…first, I was yelling at you and Ron, telling you to shut up and to stop having a go at each other all the time, and I stormed off…and then, I was in Divination, and …this is where it gets really strange…Ron came in, sat down, and told me that you and he had stopped arguing and that you said it would be nice if I stopped taking out my temper on the two of you. What was a Gryffindor like Ron doing in a Slytherin Divination class? I don’t have that bad of a temper, do I? The whole thing doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“Tell me more, Harry…quickly, before you forget any details! Were we older, the same age as now…what were we wearing? Anything at all that stands out?” Hermione, faced with a mystery, was in full fact-gathering mode.

“Hold on, Granger!” he said, “and let me think…well, yes, Ron was quite a bit taller than he is now, and I was, too, like I had grown quite a bit, very quickly. Hmmm…and now that I think about it, you looked older, too, and …different, besides. Your…well, you know…” and he began to blush.

“My what, Potter? Surely you’re not talking about…well, those being bigger, are you?” Hermione said with a sly grin while glancing down quickly. “Of course, if I was older, that would make sense…”

Harry had turned even redder at this. “Hermione Granger! NO…that isn’t what I was going to say at all…not that I didn’t notice that, too…”, he stammered, blushing even deeper, “but…I mean…well, I know you’re sort of sensitive about it and all…”

“Spit it out, Potter! What was so different about me?” Hermione was torn between being embarrassed at misunderstanding what she thought he was referring to and being extremely amused at his discomfort.

“It was your teeth!” he finally said, ducking his head quickly. “They…well, they weren’t so…”

“…huge? Rather large…prominent…horse-like? What is the exact description you were trying to find, Potter!” she said, her voice quickly turning cold. “I’m sure I’ve heard them all, most of them in the last few weeks, come to think of it!”

“Hermione, I…I really didn’t mean to…upset you like that.” Harry truly sounded apologetic, so Hermione calmed down quickly. “Besides, about your teeth …well, they never bother me any. They’re just …you, you know. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t worry so much about them. I like seeing you smile, and I suppose you don’t do it all that often because you think everyone will laugh at you or something.”

“You…you like my smile, Harry?”

“Of course, Hermione. Like I said, it’s just you to see you smile like that. It’s just so…familiar. Weird, huh?”

Hermione looked at him intently for a second, shook her head, and then went back to thinking about Harry’s memory flash. “Well, Harry, much as you might like my smile, I’ve always wanted to change it, and that fact may help us figure out your ‘vision’. My parents are both dentists, you know, and although I’ve told them we could have Madam Pomfrey fix my teeth with magic very quickly, they are holding out for the more traditional Muggle methods. Daddy said that I would be old enough to start sometime next year. So, in your memory, did you see any brackets… or wires… or headgear or anything like that on my teeth?” she said with obvious distaste.

“Nope, just your teeth. They were…well, normal sized, and I’d say just right for your face. They must be really good dentists if they’ll be able to do that so well.”

She beamed at the implied compliment for her parents. “Yes, well, they do have a lot of experience with cosmetic dentistry. But, back to the memory. Daddy said it would take over two years to get that done, so that would mean…you’re seeing something from our sixth or seventh years, Harry, if I’m still not being treated. Hmm… that’s interesting…” and she trailed off in her own thoughts for a second.

Harry, thinking that there was not much else to be gained by reviewing his “vision”, interrupted her with a question he had been considering for a long time. “How are you getting through all this stuff?” he asked.

“Oh, well – you know – working hard,” said Hermione. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.

“Why don’t you just drop a couple of subjects?” Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

“I couldn’t do that!” said Hermione, looking scandalized.

“Arithmancy looks terrible,” said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

“Oh, no, it’s wonderful!” said Hermione earnestly. “It’s my favorite subject! It’s -”

But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Harry never found out. At that precise moment, he heard the unmistakable voice of Madam Pince. “MR POTTER…AND MISS GRANGER! BRINGING A BROOMSTICK…INTO MY LIBRARY? MISS GRANGER, I’M ESPECIALLY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU! OUT! OUT BOTH OF YOU!

****

At a quarter to eleven that Saturday, the Slytherin team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn’t have been more different from their last match against Gryffindor. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze, there would be no visibility problems this time, and Harry, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. They could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. Harry took off his black school robes, removed his wand from his pocket, and stuck it inside the T-shirt he was going to wear under his Quidditch robes. He only hoped he wouldn’t need it. He wondered suddenly whether Professor Lupin was in the crowd, watching.

“You know what we’ve got to do,” said Flint as they prepared to leave the locker rooms. “If we lose this match, Potter, we’re out of the running. Just – just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we’ll be okay! But, I don’t have to remind you what I promised I’d do if you fall off again. You’ve sorted out your dementor problem, have you?” Harry didn’t bother to reply.

They walked out onto the field to muted applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, was already standing in the middle of the field. Their Seeker, someone named Cho Chang if Harry remembered Flint’s rundown of their opponents during practice, was the only girl on their team. She was shorter than Harry by about a head, and Harry couldn’t help noticing, nervous as he was, that she was extremely pretty. At that thought, he saw clearly another quick flash…this time, of a not-so-pretty Cho, face shining with tears, shrilly telling him that he’d talk to Hermione Granger but not her. <Well, of course I’d talk to Hermione instead of her…I don’t even know her! Strange…I’ll have to let Hermione know about that one after the match, that’s for certain!>

“Flint, Davies, shake hands,” Madam Hooch said briskly, and Flint glared at the Ravenclaw captain as he barely touched fingers before turning away.”

“Mount your brooms… on my whistle…three – two – one -”

****

Harry accelerated; so, many feet below, did Cho. He was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second – then –

“Oh!” screamed Cho, pointing.

Distracted, Harry looked down.

Three dementors, three tall, black, hooded dementors, were looking up at him.

He didn’t stop to think. Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, he whipped out his wand and roared, “Expecto Patronum!”

Again, something silver-white and enormous shot directly at the dementors below. He was surprised that his mind was still unaffected, but he looked up and saw the Snitch right ahead of him. He stretched out the hand still grasping his wand and just managed to close his fingers over the small, struggling Snitch.

****

“The dementors didn’t affect me at all! Harry said excitedly to Professor Lupin. “I didn’t feel a thing!”

That would be because they – er – weren’t dementors,” Lupin said. “Come and see – You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright!”

Harry stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and another boy that Harry thought was named Nott, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle’s shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost disgust on his face, was Professor Snape.

“Malfoy…so, it’s come to this, has it?” he said with contempt. “Trying to assure your place as the permanent Slytherin Seeker, are you? Well, under the circumstances, I think a different outcome is in order. You are hereby banned from the Slytherin Quidditch team for at least the rest of this year. I will re-evaluate your status the next time we re-form the team. Flint, you’d better hold a tryout right away. It looks like we’ll need another Chaser before our next match. Now, the lot of you, report to my office immediately so we can arrange the appropriate detention. Finally, I really hate to have to do this, but …fifty points…” and he grimaced as he said this, “…from Slytherin!”

(A/N – Well, that chapter ended up being a little longer than I had planned, but I still got to where I needed to be.)

Chapter 24 – A Change in the Wind

(A/N –I did sit down and work out the Quidditch cup schedule and results in the alternate timeline to make sure things worked out properly. Actually, if you think about it, this is most likely the order of the matches as they WOULD have happened in canon, if Malfoy’s “injury” hadn’t caused the first match to be rescheduled.)

“Hermione… What are you doing back here by yourself in the dark? It’s been…what, three weeks since I’ve seen you except in passing in the halls – since before our match with Ravenclaw, right? I don’t remember seeing you at Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw today. Gryffindor won, by the way, so they’re in the lead for the cup now. Did you even come?”

“Of course I did…to your match, at least.” said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up from the library table where she was trying to read an enormous book about Muggles. “I’m very glad you won that day, Harry, even though that loathsome Malfoy tried to make you fall again…” her voice caught as she said this, “but I need to read this by Monday. I’ve been spending most of my free time in the library…extra classes, helping Miss Puckle with some research she’s working on for Hagrid, you know…doesn’t leave much time for Quidditch. I guess that’s why you haven’t seen me. I’m not all that hard to find, actually…” she said with a weak chuckle.

Harry winced a little as he realized that he hadn’t actually looked for her too hard, and with the Marauder’s Map in his possession, he really didn’t have a good excuse. Since his recent triumph over the Malfoy faction, things had been much more pleasant in the Slytherin Common Room for him, (although much LESS so for the Gruesome Threesome after that 50 point setback, he chuckled), and he had been neglecting his other friend because of his new-found acceptance in his own house. “Time to turn over a new leaf…” he thought.

But as his eyes completely adjusted to the dim candlelight, he noticed something different about his friend. Her skin was pallid, and her bloodshot eyes didn’t have their normal energy. “Wait, what’s wrong? Have you been crying? Come on, Hermione, you’ve been studying in this candlelight for too long - you don’t have any color in your cheeks. It looks to me like you need to eat something and get outside for a while. I know, come down to the Great Hall with me – late lunch today because of the match, you know, and then we can go outside for a quick walk before it gets dark! Don’t make me have to smuggle some food into the library to keep you alive!” he said with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to face the wrath of Madam Pince again after our last little scene. Can’t imagine how bad it would be if someone brought a sandwich, or, even worse than that, chocolate, in here!”

Hermione couldn’t help but grin quickly back at him as she pictured in her mind what Harry had just suggested, but it just as quickly faded. “I’d love to, but I really can’t, Harry. I’ve still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read! Anyway…I’m still trying to avoid … someone, and he’s probably still eating.”

“Hmmm…let me guess…” he said, tapping his finger on his chin, pretending to look deep in thought. “Ron’s still on about his rat?”

“Right in one, Harry…although it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” As she saw him trying so hard to make her smile, it almost worked for a second. “It’s just…as if he expects me to apologize to him for what he thinks Crookshanks may have done. He won’t even consider that his rat died on its own, or just ran off or something…it’s been weeks, now. He keeps on bringing up how MUCH he misses his rat…how much Scabbers liked some disgusting treat or another… I just had to…get out of there when he started in again this morning,” her voice trailed off with an audible sob and her eyes threatened to spill over again with tears.

Harry, who was honestly pretty convinced that Crookshanks was the prime suspect, was even surer that it wouldn’t be a good idea to point out that evidence to Hermione in her current state. <I just know I’d get my head bit off if I said that…>he thought to himself. To her, he said, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t go run off to your room instead of coming down here where I could find you. I actually thought you might have been avoiding me for some reason. Hermione, do you think it would help if I said something to him…ask him to give you a break? I hate to see anyone, especially you, crying like this.”

“No, Harry, I doubt it. Miss Puckle assures me that he’ll grow out of it eventually. I guess I’ll just have to trust her on that, though – I don’t see it happening any time soon.” Hermione sighed, wiped her eyes quickly on the back of her sleeve and said, “Now, did you want to see me about something? Surely you had some reason to come look for me, after all this time?”

“Oh, yeah…well, never mind about that, Hermione. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She nodded, and silently indicated her books, her quill, and her parchment would keep her company. He continued, “You needn’t worry about it…besides, I think you answered my question. See you later…I’ve got to go do something,” he said as he left. Right before she went out of his sight, he noticed her waving goodbye and smiling (for the first time in weeks, truth be told) before she turned back to her studies.

Harry had actually used the map to find her that day, because he had finally decided he was ready to ask Hermione about the Cho “flash” that he had seen. He had thought about it occasionally over the past three weeks, and he had been completely at a loss as to what it meant. But, as he talked to her, Harry had just realized something important. When he “saw” Cho Chang crying, he felt…well, useless… uncomfortable… bewildered, really, as to what to do, as she was obviously upset with him in the vision he had. When he saw Hermione crying in the library, he felt…sad, of course, but …like he wanted to help her, do whatever he could to take away the pain she was feeling. <Better go find Ron and have a talk with him…he really shouldn’t be treating her that way! Then, I’m bringing her some chocolate, even if I have to drag her out of here to eat it!>

****

Harry wasn’t able to get to see Ron the rest of that day, though, since all of Gryffindor was still in their common room. They were celebrating because they were favored for winning the Quidditch Cup for the first time since Charlie Weasley played for them. All they had to do was beat Hufflepuff, which was expected to lose to Slytherin in the next match, and they would clinch the cup. If, however, Hufflepuff pulled off at least one upset, there could be a tie between Gryffindor and Slytherin, depending on the actual scores of the matches. Since Gryffindor had offered a rematch to Slytherin after Harry’s fall during the first match, that was being considered seriously by Dumbledore as a way to resolve a possible tie.

When he snuck back into the library using the invisibility cloak with a slab of Honeyduke’s finest chocolate, he was unable to find her at the table she had been working at. When he checked the map, he saw that she was with Miss Puckle in her office, and he relaxed a little. <Well, Miss Puckle surely won’t let her starve…I just wish she’d get outside a little more. They must be working on that research for Hagrid that she mentioned…wonder what that’s all about?>

The next morning, his planned talk with Ron was completely forgotten in the excited gossip that was surging through the castle before breakfast. Apparently, from the stories Harry pieced together, Sirius Black (who had gotten the password to Gryffindor Tower from Neville Longbottom somehow) had attempted to kill Ron in his bed the previous night. As he entered the Great Hall that morning, Harry noticed a large group of students gathered around the Gryffindor table. At the center of the pack, obviously flushed with all the attention, was Ron Weasley himself. Harry moved close enough to listen for a while without attracting attention. To hear Ron tell it, as he seemed to really enjoy doing repeatedly to whomever would listen, he barely escaped with his life by yelling at Black and scaring him off. Harry found the whole story to be very suspect, starting with the fact that a known murderer would be unable to kill a sleeping boy in his bed just because he yelled, not to mention the continued incongruity of Black continuing to attack a resident of Gryffindor Tower instead of going after his reported prey. “Surely he must have figured out where I am by now? Unless Azkaban addled his brain so much that he can’t tell where he’s at? Hold on…maybe he’s been after Ron all along? No, that makes NO sense whatsoever.”

Finally, a few days later, Harry ran into Ron, alone for once, his “pack” of admirers apparently tired of listening to the same story over and over again.

Ron, who thought that he found another listening ear to regale with his adventure, smiled at him. “Hey, Harry…did you hear about what happened to me? I haven’t seen you for a while! I was…”

“…attacked by Sirius Black…I know, I’ve heard.” <…more times than I care to, thank you very much!> he added to himself grimly. “How are you doing, anyway?”

“Oh, just fine, Potter! I mean, he must have really been scared when I yelled at him, so…”

“Yes, I know, Ron! I was just trying to be polite.”

Ron looked at him with disappointment, but decided not to pursue it from the look on Harry’s face as they walked down the corridors together. Harry couldn’t get a word in edgewise, as Ron was monopolizing the conversation.

“So, Potter – you heard about this weekend, eh? Hogsmeade again! Oh, yeah, that reminds me,” Ron said, pulling a very mashed looking bag out of his robes, where it had obviously been forgotten for a while, “here’s those Zonko’s tricks I told you about! Fred and George got them for me somehow. Sorry they’re a bit…used, but I forgot until just now. By the way, are you going to sneak down there again like last time…with that map you found, you know? Oh, yeah, Potter, I meant to talk to you about something. This last Christmas, Fred and George only got me a single Bertie Bott’s Bean each for a present…one of them was corned beef flavored, and the other one tasted like ear wax…bleah! Anyway, when Mum and Dad yelled at them for being so cheap, they said something about having a much better present for me, but a teacher confiscated it so they had to settle for the beans. They also had some excuse about buying an entire box of them each, but by the time they got back to school, those two were all that were left. Later, I cornered them and asked them about what they were going to give me. They laughed, and told me all about the map, thinking I surely wouldn’t believe them, I suppose. I pretended that I thought they were just taking the mickey out on me, that there was no such thing as a map like that. That’s exactly what I would have felt, by the way, if I hadn’t seen you with the very thing that day in Hogsmeade. So, how did you do it, Harry? How did you steal it from the twins? Did you see them with it one day, and set them up to be caught by Lupin? I think you owe me something. Looks like you’ve got my property somehow!”

“What’s this, Potter? Did I just hear Weasley say you stole something from him?” For once, Harry was not glad to hear Professor Snape’s voice. “Why would you want to steal something from someone who has so little to begin with?” Snape sneered, looking askance at Ron’s too-short, hand-me-down robes. “Although,” he continued silkily, “it does sound like something a Slytherin would think of…nevertheless, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, to my office, now! We’ll get to the bottom of this! It is times like this that I almost regret banning Draco for the rest of the year! But, considering your father’s tendency to ignore the rules, I’m honestly not surprised you’re indulging in a little larceny.” Harry’s eyes narrowed at this, but he said nothing as they walked towards the Potions Master’s office.

Snape escorted Harry inside, while having Ron sit outside as was his usual practice to make sure student’s stories remained independent. As he closed the door, Harry turned on him and said, with anger rising in his voice, “So…what was that remark you made about my father? The headmaster told me one time that you knew him…and a few other things about the two of you, too.”

Snape’s voice, none too charming under the best of conditions, got more and more menacing as he spoke. “Potter, I am getting tired of your cheek! Must I remind you that I AM your head of house, and I EXPECT that you will speak to me accordingly? Ever since you were sorted into my house, instead of Gryffindor as was expected by…well, everyone, including me…I have tried to overlook my…shall we say, unpleasant memories associated with your father. I have intervened on your behalf on many occasions, including with the Malfoys and most recently with Flint. But, as time goes on, I find it increasingly difficult to do so. How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter…”

*****

Afterwards, in Miss Puckle’s office, Remus was explaining his recent actions. “Of course you can understand just WHY I had to confiscate the map from Harry, don’t you, Harmony…er…I mean, Hermione? Now, what do you want to do with it? It wouldn’t do to let Severus have a chance to study it …although I must admit I was pleased to see our Snape Insult charms are still working so well after all this time! Greasy git, anyway – he always wanted to figure out what we were doing with that old parchment all the time. He tried to steal it whenever he thought he could get away with it, and almost succeeded once or twice, so we added those insults just in case he was successful. Eventually, given enough time, he would have figured it out, though…and that would have put your cover story at risk, too, as you well know!”

Harmony nodded, but said quickly. “Remember, Remus, please only call me Harmony. I’d hate to have you slip up when someone might accidentally overhear.”

“Yes, I know that, of course…it’s just…well, my nose tells me one thing, and my eyes tell me another, and I forget sometimes…sorry! I’m just glad I was able to convince the map that you were Miss Puckle, not Miss Granger. If Snape had ended up working the map, he would have noticed that bit of jimmying right away, most likely. I’m actually surprised Harry hasn’t done so…”

****

Harry, however, was at the moment otherwise occupied. Between Snape’s tirade and the chewing out he had received from Lupin, he had been in a very bad mood until he saw someone walking towards him, obviously upset.

“Hermione! I was about to say that it was good to see you out and about, but…it looks like you’re not any happier than you were the last time I saw you. Is something wrong?”

“Yes…” said Hermione, tearfully. She was holding a letter in her hands and her lip was trembling. “I just thought you ought to know…Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed. He – he sent me this,” holding out the letter.

“Hagrid…Buckbeak? Executed? Huh? What are you on about, Hermione? Oh…yeah, the whole Malfoy fake injury thing…don’t tell me anyone actually believed that git was hurt seriously?” He read the damp and smudged letter that Hagrid had written to Hermione, thanking her for the help she had given them. “Oh…I guess they did! So, you’ve been helping…with the defense, then? Is that why you’ve been spending so much time by yourself in the library?”

“Well, Miss Puckle’s been helping me some, of course. She gave me a lot of good ideas…but yes, I’ve been spending a lot of time on it.”

“But why, Hermione? Yeah, I know that Buckbeak’s not really dangerous, and he shouldn’t be executed just because Malfoy is too stupid to listen to instructions, but…well, it IS just a hippogriff, you know…I mean, why should you care what happens to it? Hagrid’s already got a whole herd, doesn’t he? What difference does one more make?”

“Oh, Harry…you don’t know much about hippogriffs, do you?” He looked at her, slightly confused. “Miss Puckle told me all about them while we’ve been working on the case. They are very special magical creatures…they symbolize something that’s supposed to be impossible…well, never mind about the details,” she said, quickly blushing, “let’s just say that it is a really sad thing to have one of them die unnecessarily!”

As he heard Hermione’s voice enter “lecture mode”, in the back of Harry’s mind was a feeling of déjà vu as he realized that he at one time did know more about hippogriffs. “Hermione,” he said, “are you sure you’ve never told me about this before? I seem to remember having this conversation with you…but I don’t remember anything else about it!”

“No, Harry, I’m sure I’ve never…” her voice trailed off as she considered his question for a second. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and said, “But Harry, never mind that now. We’ve got to do something! Obviously Malfoy’s dad frightened the Ministry into it. You know what he’s like. They’re a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There’ll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can’t see any hope…Nothing will have changed.”

“Yeah, it will,” said Harry, surprising even himself with his conviction. “You and Miss Puckle won’t have to do all the work by yourself this time, Hermione. I’ll help.”

“Oh, Harry!”

Hermione flung her arms around Harry’s neck and broke down completely. Harry was quite surprised that she was in his arms, sobbing. As it was, he returned the hug cautiously at first, but then with more …well, participation. He decided pretty quickly, as his senses filled with the smell, sounds, and touch that he was experiencing, that he would be happy just letting her stand there as long as she wanted. Finally, Hermione drew away, blushing, as she had realized what she had been doing.

“Erm… Harry, I…well, I didn’t mean to cry on your shoulder so long. Your robe is soaked through! Sorry about that! It’s just that…well, I’ve been so busy…and tired…and no one else was interested…Miss Puckle has her classes to take care of, so she could only do so much. I even asked Ron for some help out of desperation, and you can guess what his reaction was! Stupid rat…it’s caused much more trouble than it’s worth. Thank you so much for the offer! After last year, I think we do well together…researching, that is!”

As he walked back to his room after escorting her back to the Gryffindor Tower entrance, (“See, Harry, we have trolls guarding our entrance now,” she pointed out rather unnecessarily) he realized that it was the first time that he could remember in his entire life where someone had actually hugged him intentionally, not counting the broom closet incident. “Well, it looks like I have another pleasant memory to use if I need to chase off any more dementors!” he thought happily. “Wonder when we’re going to do some more… research?”

Fortunately for Harry, Slytherin had their Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor, so they were able to work on their plan of attack then. They had heard from Hagrid what had happened at the hearing, and the two of them tried to reassure him that they would do all they could to work together on the appeal. Harry found himself once again looking forward to their library time, working on another special project as they had done during second year.

One day, they were walking back up to the castle with Hagrid, Ron and the rest of the class. Ron was still barely talking to either of them, (having still not forgiven Harry about losing the map himself), but he had been talking to Hagrid and found himself stuck with them as they climbed. Ahead, they could see the Gruesome Threesome, looking back, laughing derisively at Hagrid’s emotional state as he ran back towards his cabin, crying in his handkerchief.

“Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?” said Malfoy, “And he’s supposed to be our teacher!”

Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first – SMACK!

She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.

“Don’t you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul – you evil -…”

“Hermione!” said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.

“Get off, Ron!”

Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

“C’mon,” Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.

“Hermione!” Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.

“Harry, you’d better make sure you never give him the chance to play Seeker for Slytherin again!” Hermione said shrilly. “You better keep that fancy broom of yours in good shape so he’ll never be able to buy his way back on to the team like last time! I can’t stand him!”

“We’re due in Charms,” said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. “We’d better go!”

“Yeah, and I’ve got Divination, then we switch, right?” Harry said. “See you later, you too! Oh, and Ron, best not get her mad at you – she’s got a pretty wicked slap there!” he said with a wink at Hermione. She grinned shyly back at him and waved quickly as they separated to their different classes.

***

“Hey, Harry! Did you hear what Hermione did after you left us today?” For some reason, Ron had seemed to forget their argument about the map in light of Hermione’s attack on Malfoy.

“What was it this time?” Harry asked with a grin, trying to come up with the most outlandish scenario he could think of. “Let me guess…she skived off Charms and stormed out of Divination…” As Ron’s jaw dropped in astonishment, he said “Wow…does Trelawney know about you? Or did someone already tell you? Because you were spot on, you know!”

“I was only joking, Ron! You’re not serious, are you? I mean, when you asked that, I said the first thing that popped into my head…and you’re telling me that’s really what happened? Hermione, skipping a Charms class AND telling off a teacher, after nearly flooring Malfoy?” Well, some day Hermione’s having, eh?”

“Stop it, Harry, you’re really scaring me…that’s exactly what I was going to say. You really need to go talk to Trelawney about this.”

“What, that old fraud? Every time I’m in there I feel like I’ll be lucky to see the next sunset, you know. Apparently I have the shortest lifeline known to man, and the Grim is embedded in everything I come in contact with, including my underwear, probably.”

“Harry…please, no more mentions of your…well, you know, underwear? I mean, that’s an image I can live without. It’s bad enough having to share a dorm with other guys you’re not related to, you know!”

“Tell me about it. But, before you complain too much, just think who I have for dorm mates…You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen Crabbe and Goyle starkers…and Malfoy, too, come to think of it…well, never mind that. Blaise, at least, knows to wear a towel when he comes out of the shower. I swear I’m going to have to do a memory charm on myself after we leave Hogwarts just to clear those images out.”

“HARRY! Thanks a lot, mate! Now I’m going to be having nightmares myself! Yeah, a memory charm…great idea, thanks! I hear Miss Puckle is pretty good at them. Maybe she’ll help us out…without giving us the rest of the treatment, eh?” The two boys laughed, but then winced as they thought of what had happened to Lockhart.

Harry decided to take advantage of the thaw in their relationship. “Ron, can I talk to you about something…well, actually someone?”

“Sure, Harry…what is it?”

Well, it’s…Hermione…and how you’ve been treating her.”

At the mention of Hermione’s name, the tips of Ron’s ears reddened. “Serves her right, Harry! She’s always going on about how that…beast of hers would NEVER do something so…natural as to eat a rat. Bollocks! I mean, honestly, to use her favorite expression, I find blood all over my bedsheets where Scabbers sleeps, and on the floor, ginger-colored CAT hairs, and I haven’t seen Scabbers since then! Just what AM I supposed to think?”

“Easy, Ron…yeah, I know all that. In fact, truth be known, I agree that makes the most sense based on everything you said. But just WHY do you keep on her about it? I mean, it IS a cat, you know, and like you just said, it IS natural for cats to eat rats…”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right, stick up for Hermione, I knew you would! If I didn’t know better, Potter, I’d say you have a …thing…for that little bookworm!”

“Sorry? Did you just say you think I have a …thing…for her? That’s codswallop! I mean…well, yeah, she’s nice and all, but, look at her, she’s in Gryffindor and I’m in Slytherin, for starters. It’s not like we see each other all the time, like you and her can!” Ron’s ears reddened even more at that, and Harry had a crazy thought. “Oh…so that’s it, is it? You’re the one that fancies her, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re jealous!”

Ron muttered something that, if taken literally, would be impossible for Harry to do (even with magic), and stormed off towards the Gryffindor Tower.

*****

Harry, however, had a lot of other things to worry about. While Slytherin had beaten Hufflepuff in their match in February, Gryffindor had ended up losing in March by a score that caused an unprecedented tie in the standings, both in win-loss record (2-1 each) and in points scored vs. allowed, so the Gryffindor-Slytherin rematch was scheduled to take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays, winner-take-all.

Never, in anyone’s memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. Madam Pomfrey (helped by Miss Puckle) was kept busy sorting out a number of more interesting curses and jinxes.

Harry was having a particularly bad time of it, unfortunately much of it coming from his own house. After his run-in with Professor Snape earlier in the year, he had been relegated back to “persona-non-grata” with most of Slytherin house, Blaise’s group still a notable exception. While Malfoy was, of course, still banned from Quidditch for the match, this just increased his desire to cause Harry harm, or, failing that, embarrassment. Harry, of course, hadn’t forgotten Malfoy’s attempt to sabotage him in the match against Ravenclaw, but it was the matter of Buckbeak that made him most determined to win in spite of Malfoy’s best efforts, which seemed to consisted of having Crabbe and Goyle trying to trip him up or hex him when they thought no one was looking. That, combined with the verbal digs from Gryffindor house members (with at least one exception, Harry noted gratefully), made it difficult for him to go nearly anywhere. Harry also asked Professor Dumbledore to secure his Firebolt, since under the circumstances he felt it wasn’t safe in his room.

The night before the match, Harry slept badly, having strange dreams about trying to avoid flying dragons, even though he realized he needed his Firebolt to do it and he didn’t know how to get it.

He woke up, put on his invisibility cloak, and went outside for a walk to try to clear his head. The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow that Professor Sprout had taught them about in Herbology that year was motionless and innocent-looking. It looked as though the conditions for the match would be perfect.

Harry, who was once again getting sleepy in the early morning air, was about to return to his room when something caught his eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn. It was…Crookshanks? Harry recognized the bottlebrush tail even from a distance. Or was it only Crookshanks? Harry looked closer, and was sure he could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too. It…was the Grim, Crookshanks trotting at its side. Harry quickly returned back to the castle, even more confused as to what he had just seen.

*****

It was turning into the dirtiest game Harry had ever played. Gryffindor’s team of Chasers, who had worked together for years now, began the match scoring quickly and often. Slytherin’s new Chaser, on the other hand, was found to have a disturbing tendency to drop the Quaffle whenever a Bludger came near him. This affected Slytherin’s strategy significantly, and it took some time before they could adapt their plays. As a result, Harry’s teammates started resorting to physical attacks, starting with extra elbowing, followed by the beaters swinging their clubs at anything that moved, regardless of whether a Bludger was anywhere in the area, and direct attacks on Gryffindor’s keeper, Wood. This resulted in additional penalties assessed against Slytherin, making the deficit even greater.

After two hours of fierce playing, in which Madam Hooch actually complained about how tired she was of blowing her whistle against both teams (Gryffindor finally resorting to limited retaliation after some of the harder fouls against their teammates,) the score was 300 to 160 in favor of Gryffindor. Harry knew that if he could only catch the Snitch, they would still win the cup by 10 points overall.

And then, he saw it, a tiny golden glimmer, just hovering above the grass. Unfortunately, the Gryffindor Seeker was much closer to that end of the pitch and had quite a head start, having seen Harry react to his sighting. Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but he wasn’t sure he could make it in time.

“GO! GO! GO!” Harry wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard Hermione’s voice urging him on, and he flattened himself to his broomstick and urged it to go faster. He threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom, and grabbed the Snitch right out from under the Gryffindor Seeker’s nose, where it had flown at the last second.

“YES!”

****

Harry, while very excited about winning the cup, was even happier at what happened afterwards. After the cup was presented to a smirking Severus Snape once again, Harry walked slowly back towards the castle. From the looks he had received during the presentation, he knew that his presence in any Slytherin House celebration parties that night would not be welcome, even though he was the supposed hero of the match. None of that mattered to him as he walked past the locker rooms, as soon as he heard a quiet voice calling his name from the shadows.

“Harry…Harry, come over here. Shhh…don’t let anyone see you, please. It probably wouldn’t be too good for me if my housemates saw me with you right now.”

“Hermione, is that you?” Harry said as he walked closer and peered into the darkened passageway.

“Yes, Harry. I know this may be strange, coming from a Gryffindor, but I was proud of you today for winning that match. I watched you quite closely, and you never participated in any of the fouling that both teams were doing. You flew brilliantly, you know! Even I could tell that, and, you know I’m not a big Quidditch fan!”

“Hermione…was that you I heard yelling ‘GO! GO! GO!’ right before I caught the Snitch? I was so shocked that a Gryffindor was cheering for me that I almost fell off my broom again!” he said, teasingly.

“Oh, Harry, don’t EVEN joke about that!” she smiled weakly. “Yes, it was me. I didn’t know if you could hear me or not. I’m glad you didn’t fall off, though!”

“Me, too, come to think of it. Flint’s threat to take me down to the dementors still stands, I’m afraid. Thanks, Hermione, for talking to me. You…I mean, it means a lot to me. Is that all you wanted me to come over here for?”

“Well, there is one more thing, Harry…”

(A/N – This chapter is, as you may have figured out from the title, extremely important in not just this year, but for the other two years too. I hope you noticed that I tried to reduce my “canon” breaks, instead writing out most of the key scenes. The biggest section I left out was Snape’s scene with Harry and Lupin, but it is just the same as canon. I just had to include Hermione’s attack on Malfoy, because I have always loved it! One more thing…no, I don’t hate Ron in canon, or in this story. It’s just that I think that under the circumstances of this time-loop, I think this is how he would react, especially to Hermione, without Harry acting as a buffer.)

Chapter 25 – After the Match

“Well, there is one more thing, Harry…” Harry’s palms got sweaty and he was certain his entire face was as flushed as it had ever been when he heard that last sentence come from Hermione’s lips, which he was noticing with renewed interest. One part of him wanted to run away from her as fast as possible, while the other part wanted to just snog her right there next to the locker rooms. Both options had their good points, although… he knew which one he preferred.

However, Hermione didn’t acknowledge that she noticed his flustered appearance. She continued after a slight pause, “Harry, I…I…well …I really wanted to… tell you…thanks! You know, for trying to talk to Ron for me. You really didn’t have to do that, you know!”

“Oh, is that all? I thought…” Harry couldn’t help but sound disappointed in the difference between what just happened and his previous hopes, not to mention the slight annoyance he felt when Ron’s name had come up in the middle of their private conversation. “Well, never mind what I thought. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, you know. I just don’t think he should keep bringing that up just to make you feel bad. How’d you find out about it, anyway?”

Hermione, who had noticed Harry’s disappointment and grinned inwardly as she thought <Looks like things are still moving along nicely…Harmony was right!> said, “Oh, you know Ron…he’s not the most… well, reticent person, especially when it comes to embarrassing someone else. Takes after Fred and George somewhat, although they usually prank their victims. Oh, yes, Ron took great pleasure in announcing to everyone in the common room that Harry Potter fancied me! When I asked him why he would ever say something like that, he told me you were ‘sticking up for me’ about Crookshanks, and that it was obvious from what you said that you had a ‘thing’ for me. What exactly did you say, anyway, to make him think that?” she asked with definite interest.

“Erm…well, not much, now that you mention it. I did say that I actually agreed with him that Crookshanks was the most likely suspect…,” At this, Hermione’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Harry plunged ahead anyway, “…and that it IS natural for cats to eat rats…What?”

Hermione’s giggle had interrupted Harry. “So, here I am halfway expecting to hear that you had broken down and confessed your feelings for me, whatever they are…” she said with a wink, “… to Ron, and I come to find out you were discussing the dietary habits of felines? And Ron actually thought…Oh, this is too funny!”

“Well, there was one other thing I said…” Harry confessed.

“And what was that, Harry?”

Harry said, slowly, “Well, I…I may have mentioned something about…Ron…you know, being jealous of me…”

“Now, why would Ronald Weasley be jealous of you?” Hermione was now quite businesslike.

“Because…I think…HE fancies you, too!”

“WHAT? You think that Ron…FANCIES me?” Hermione said with disbelief. Her eyes looked disturbingly like they had when she had slapped Malfoy, but this time they were focused on Harry.

“Steady on, Hermione!” Harry said quickly, keeping a wary eye on her dangerous right hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you…” The conversation was definitely less pleasant than it had been not too much earlier, “…but…yeah, I think he does!”, and he flinched as he said it, half-expecting a slap to the head.

Hermione, on the other hand, had started to giggle again as she saw the fear on his face. “Don’t worry, I’d never hit you! I’d hope by now you’d know that much about me, at least,” she said with obvious sincerity. “Oh, this is too much, Harry! It’s so…so ludicrous, to think that Ron fancies me. I mean, the way he treats me, hanging around me in the common room, always teasing me, insulting me, annoying me…” She paused. “Oh, you don’t think… no… anything but that…he’s flirting with me, isn’t he?” And she put her shaking head in her hands.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I thought, too, but…anyway, Hermione, I still need to take my broom to Professor Dumbledore so he can put it away for safekeeping. You can come with me, if you want,” he said hopefully.

“Oh, Harry, you know I would if I could…but, as I said, now would not be a good time for me to be seen…well, you know, with you. I’d probably find all my things out in the Great Hall if that happened, and I’d prefer to sleep in my own bed, thank you very much! Don’t worry, Harry, things will blow over soon! After our exams are over this term, I’ll be glad to go for a walk with you, that is, if you are still interested. I seem to recall that I owe you a story, don’t I?”

Harry thought for a second, and then brightened as he remembered. “Oh, yeah, Shakespeare, wasn’t it? That Romeo bloke? I can hardly wait…” he said, not all that convincingly.

Hermione looked at him with a mixture of pity and joy. “Well, you’ll have to wait for a while. With all the extra classes I am taking, the next eight weeks or so should keep me very busy, and I hope you will be spending your time on your studies, too, now that Quidditch is over with! But, after that first week in June, we’ll have our little Shakespeare lesson. Oh, don’t worry, Harry, I’ll make it interesting,” she said, coyly. “I promise!” And with that, she gave him a quick hug and ran towards the castle.

Harry’s emotions were quite unsettled, therefore, as he began heading towards Dumbledore’s office. As he entered the castle, he was again surprised to hear a voice calling to him. This one, however, was less familiar.

“Potter, a word with you if I could?”

“Wood? What are you doing here? I wanted to say something to you afterwards, but I saw you were talking to those older blokes. Great match, by the way. Sorry…well, sorry you had to lose your last chance at the cup,” and he tentatively stuck out his hand.

Oliver shook it quite heartily. “Great match, yourself! And, great flying, too! You have to be a better-than-average Seeker to even stay on a broom as good as that Firebolt you’ve got there. So, you saw me talking, did you? That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Those two gents were scouts for Puddlemere United! Came up to see the match and check out some prospects! Potter, they want ME to play Keeper on their reserve team after I finish at Hogwarts! And, I have you partially to thank for it!”

“Wh...what?” Harry was very confused. “What did I have to do with anything?”

“Well, as they told me later, they were impressed that I was able to block most of the shots from the Slytherin Chasers, even with the obvious cheating and excessive fouling that was going on, not to mention the added complications of having to face a very talented Seeker riding an international-class broom. They also told me that there’s nothing legal that a Keeper can do when they are faced with a Seeker like you, so they don’t hold the fact that we lost to you against me. They were actually expecting Gryffindor to win, until you pulled off that last maneuver and grabbed the Snitch! They also thought that I kept my composure quite well in the face of the poor sportsmanship of all but one of the Slytherin team,” he said this last warily, not sure what Harry’s reaction would be.

Harry could see Wood’s nervousness, and quickly replied, “Yeah, Flint and company were awful, weren’t they? Sometimes, I really wish I didn’t have to play on a team like that! I want to win honestly when I win!”

“That’s what one of the scouts said about you, Harry. You know, if you keep this up, you may be getting an invite to play for P.U. in a few years yourself! Oh, by the way, Harry, now that the season’s over and we’re not sworn enemies any more, d’you think I might be able to have a go on your Firebolt?” Harry nodded, and Wood smiled. “Well, Potter, I’ve got to go join my team and drown our sorrows in some butterbeer!” he said happily. As he walked towards the Gryffindor Tower, he heard Oliver singing to himself, “I’m going to play for Puddlemere… I’m going to play for Puddlemere…!”

As he continued towards Dumbledore’s office he was intercepted once more, this time by a very excited red-headed young wizard calling for him from down the corridor. “Harry! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! Where have you been? You haven’t been out snogging Hermione, have you?” he said cheekily.

<I wish!> was the thought that came quickly to Harry’s mind, but he kept his feelings to himself as he slowed and waited for Ron to catch up to him. “What is it, Ron? Don’t tell me…you want a go on my Firebolt, eh?” he said with a grin.

“Whoa…you’ve GOT to talk to Trelawney, mate! Although, come to think of it, that’s not too hard to figure out, now is it?” he laughed. “Yes, Harry, of course I would! But, I also wanted to congratulate you on that wicked flying you did. I mean, even though you beat our team, you were brilliant up there! That was one of the best matches I’ve seen here at Hogwarts!” It appeared to Harry that Ron was willing to overlook just about any personal differences they may have had as long as Quidditch was involved. “By the way, Harry, did you hear about Wood? Of course, he’d be better off if he went to the Cannons…” and they walked the rest of the way towards the Headmaster’s office, talking about Quidditch, the match and the Cannon’s chances for the championship this year.

*****

“Harmony, you were right!” Hermione said, happily as she burst into Miss Puckle’s office. “I think Harry still likes me!”

“Of course he does, silly! He just doesn’t know it yet. What did I tell you about being patient? So, I assume that your little ‘talk’ after the match went well?”

Hermione was glowing as she answered excitedly. “Oh, yes! Except for some rubbish about how he thinks Ron fancies me, it was great! Harry blushes quite nicely, you know! For a second there, I thought he was going to pass out when I told him I had just one more thing to tell him. I’ll admit it was hard for me to resist him right then, when I saw his eyes… Then, when I only gave him a hug as I left, he looked almost as disappointed as I felt! Those were great suggestions, Harmony! Where’d you ever learn to do things like that to a boy?”

“Oh, let’s just say that I have studied that particular subject for…well, YEARS now, and I’m pretty sure I know what will work with…well, boys that age. If you go too fast, you’ll scare him off, but if you go too slowly, he’ll lose interest and spend his time going on about Quidditch or something. Always leave them looking forward to your next meeting, you know. Builds the excitement! Then, when you’re ready for the next step, you’ll both enjoy it a lot more!”

“So, does this special knowledge have something to do with that boy you told me about, the one you knew at school?” Hermione winked conspiratorially.

Now it was Harmony’s turn to redden slightly. “You know, Hermione, sometimes I think you are a little too clever for your own good, and that is saying something coming from me!”

*****

Harry’s euphoria at winning the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin didn’t last too long after he mended his friendship with Ron. Before they dropped the broom off with the Headmaster, Harry made a deal with Ron allowing him to fly it whenever he wanted, on condition that he would start acting civilly towards Hermione. Dumbledore, when he heard this, wisely added the condition that Ron would have to show proof that he was caught up on his studies first. Then, the two newly restored friends went back to the Great Hall. As they were discussing the finer points of the match, they heard a very unpleasant voice come up behind them. “Well, well, if it isn’t Potty and his Weasel…” Draco Malfoy said.

As they turned around, they saw the entire Slytherin team standing there with Malfoy. “So, the great Harry Potter saves the day for his beloved Slytherin house, and then shares his strategy with someone related to two members of the opposing team!” Flint said harshly. “Well, Potter, we can tolerate a lot of things, but we CANNOT allow you to reveal team secrets to a possible spy. In my last official act as captain, effective immediately, you are off the Slytherin team indefinitely. And, before you say anything, Professor Snape has given me blanket authority in this matter until the end of the year. Your Firebolt won’t save you this time, Potter!” And then, the entire team turned on their heels as one unit, and walked off. Harry could have sworn that Draco gave him an extra smirk as he did so.

Ron was the first to speak. “Wow, Harry! I’m…really sorry! It’s all my fault – they wouldn’t have kicked you off if they hadn’t heard us talking about the match! That’s a bum deal, mate! What a prat that Flint fellow is!”

“Oh, don’t worry, Ron, if it hadn’t have been for this, I’m sure they would have invented some other excuse to get rid of me. Can’t have a half-blood like me leading the team to victory that way. I’ve heard the talk in my Common Room and the locker rooms. Malfoy’s dad probably had a lot to say about this after Snape kicked Golden Boy off the team!” Harry snorted.

Ron seemed to be thinking seriously for a moment before he spoke. “So, what are you going to do about it…for next year, you know! It’d be a shame for someone as good as you to not be able to play Quidditch next year, and even more of a shame to not be able to use that Firebolt in a match!”

“Before you get your hopes up, Ron, no, I’m not going to let you or your brothers use my broom to play for Gryffindor next year!” Harry grinned. “I’m not all that slow, you know! I could see where you were headed!”

Ron grinned back guiltily, and said, “Sorry, Harry, but a bloke’s got to try! I mean, a real FIREBOLT…”

******

As Hermione had predicted, the rest of the term was quite busy for all of the students. As Harry noted, though, it seemed to affect her more than most. It seemed like each time he saw her, her face was more lined and worn than the last time, even within the same day. A strange thought came to Harry – it seemed to him as if she was aging at least twice as fast as everyone else. One day, he said as much to her during one of their “Save Buckbeak” research sessions. She still found time to go over cases with Harry and Ron, who had volunteered to help as a token of their restored friendship after Harry had explained what was going on. “That’s just crazy, Harry – why would you think that?” and Harry could tell from her tone that she didn’t want to discuss it any further. The boys had long since given up asking her how she was managing to attend several classes at once, so Harry left it alone.

Soon afterwards, they had received their exam schedules and the notice of Buckbeak’s final appeal hearing, so there was not much else for them to do except wait for exam week to start. Since Harry’s course schedule was quite different than the two Gryffindor third-years, he didn’t even have that companionship to look forward to. <Wish I could see some friendly faces during the exams! Well, at least I have Care of Magical Creatures with the two of them – that will be a welcome break from the cold shoulder I’m getting from the Slytherins!>

And then, it was over. Harry had, for the first time since he had come to Hogwarts, felt that his Potions exam was an unqualified disaster. Afterwards, he told Blaise (who was the only one in Slytherin who would even acknowledge his presence), “I guess it makes a difference whether the teacher is on your side or not. I’ve never had so much trouble getting a potion to work out right. I’d almost swear someone tampered with my ingredients.”

But, he knew he did well in his DADA final, getting full marks from Professor Lupin, “As if you expected anything different? I still remember your Patronus lessons, you know!” Lupin said as Harry left the obstacle course. Harry had already heard the rumors of Hermione’s failure with the boggart earlier that day, and he thought that he might be able to give her a few pointers on that subject. <Hmm, maybe when we go for our walk…she can teach me about Romeo and Juliet, and I’ll show her how to make a Patronus! Yeah, sounds like a fair exchange,> he said to himself as a smile came to his face. As he walked back to the castle, he saw an unexpected sight at the top of the steps, next to Ron and Hermione.

Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds.

*****

Harry’s Divination exam was next, with Ron’s Divination final and Hermione’s Muggle studies final in the exam slot following. “I’ll see you two after you’re done, then? I’ll wait for you at the front doors and then we’ll go down to see how Buckbeak’s hearing went!” Harry said as he headed towards the spiral staircase to Trelawney’s classroom.

The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Harry cough as he stumbled through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for him before a large crystal ball.

“Good day, my dear,” she said softly…

****

After Trelawney dismissed him for making a complete botch of the whole exam, Harry got up, picked up his bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind him.

“IT WILL HAPPEN TONIGHT.”

“S – sorry?” said Harry, staring at a rigid Professor Trelawney.

As he seriously considered running to the hospital wing for help, Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own:

“THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE MIDNIGHT…THE SERVANT WILL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT’S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER HE WAS. HIS OTHER SERVANTS WHOSE PLANS ARE BEING INTERFERED WITH WILL REJOIN THEIR MASTER IN TIME. TONIGHT…BEFORE MIDNIGHT…THE SERVANT …WILL SET OUT…TO REJOIN HIS MASTER…”

****

Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, the three friends crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath Harry’s cloak, which he hadn’t used since the morning of the Quidditch Cup finals. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.

They reached Hagrid’s cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

“It’s us,” Harry hissed. “We’re wearing an Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off!”

Hagrid was shocked to see who was under the cloak when they showed themselves. “Harry? Harry Potter? What’re you doin’ here? And, Ron and Hermione, too? Blimey, you sure scared me when I didn’t see anyone outside. Tha’s your father’s cloak, innit, Harry? I din’t know you had tha’… Dumbledore give it to you, did he? Great man, Dumbledore… thanks for coming, Harry – there’s another one I owe you. So, Hermione, I see you recruited some more help for Bucky, have ye? Good girl…too bad it din’t make any diff’r’nce…” and he began to tremble. “Wan’ some tea?” he continued, shaking as he reached for the kettle.

“Where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” said Hermione hesitantly.

****

There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione swayed on the spot.

“They did it!” she whispered to Harry. “I d – don’t believe it – they did it!”

(A/N – Hate to disappoint those who were looking for a different resolution to the first cliffy, but shaz124 guessed closest in his original review. As I said, there is over two more years of story to get through. The big H/Hr scene you are looking forward to will come in time! Sorry if you thought that the young Hermione was getting a little too OOC in her interest in Harry, but as you know now, Harmony has been a ‘bad’ influence on her!

Only three deferrals to canon in this chapter that are of any note – first, the scene with Cornelius Fudge at the steps of the castle, second, the disastrous Divination exam both before and after Trelawney’s prophecy including the results of Buckbeak’s hearing, and, finally, the final part of the chapter, including Hermione’s discovery of Scabbers in the milk jug up until the trio appears to hear Buckbeak’s execution – and Hermione whispers to HARRY…sorry, she doesn’t do ANYTHING to RON… – Don’t you get that, Alfonso? :-)

These three sections would be nearly word for word the same in this story, except of course Hermione wouldn’t have had to go get the cloak. And yes, the prophecy did change slightly.)

Chapter 26 – Gatto, Ratto e Cane dalla vista di Licantropo*

(A/N –This chapter is a departure for me because, well, I had to do SOMETHING different with this whole section! I was thinking about posting a note that said “Read chapters 17-22 of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban; nothing of significance changes in this timeline.” But, since that’s not all that interesting for either you or me, I came up with this angle. *I also thought that the chapter title in Italian would be appropriate. If you can’t guess why I chose Italian, I’ll explain and translate it for you at the end. This chapter will cover more than five (actually, almost six) canon chapters, so hang on to your hats!)

“Begin Letter!”

-10 June –

Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,

With this letter I formally tender my resignation as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After our recently concluded discussion, you know my feelings on why I have to take this action based on what nearly happened last night. I ask you; please don’t invest any more time or effort trying to convince me otherwise. You and I know what will happen as a result of Snape’s little “slip” to the students at breakfast this morning, and I do not want to put you or Hogwarts through such a scandal. I know I’ve said this many times in the past year, but I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for the trust you have shown in me this past year, even more so considering this last incident. Oh, that I felt more worthy of such trust! But, seeing as how I could have killed the only son of two of my best friends, not to mention his two friends, my newly rediscovered friend, and anyone else that may have been out for a walk last night, I know it will be a long time before I trust myself on that one horrible night each month.

Albus, while I know that anything I write here will not be considered of any worth by certain members of the Ministry, I felt it was my duty as a former teacher and as your long-time friend to report what happened last night from my unique viewpoint. Consider this a confessional if you must, but I do want to set the record straight and I think it might help me to begin to forgive myself for what nearly turned tragic.

Here, then, are my recollections and thoughts about the events of the evening of the 9th of June:

As you are probably aware, I was keeping a close eye on the old map that I had confiscated from Harry earlier in the term when it was in danger of falling into Professor Snape’s hands. As I’m sure Harmony has explained to you in your meetings, the map that James, Sirius, and …strange how hard it is to say his name, especially now…Peter made with me allows its reader to keep track of ALL of the goings-on in the castle and in the areas surrounding it. Harmony had already explained to me the critical nature of the events that HAD to happen last night, and I must admit it took all of my resolve to not go down and take care of the “Scabbers” problem myself the very hour I heard the whole story. She also described to me my critical role in the whole affair, and tried to assure me that no real harm would come to anyone last night because of my actions as long as I acted precisely as I did in her timeline. However, she repeatedly refused to tell me any details about what will happen to us beyond last night, so I assume there are things that are best left unknown at this time.

I, as you know, have developed quite a personal interest in time-travel, ever since I seriously considered stealing a time-turner so I could go back and prevent my bite from ever occurring. As you so clearly explained to me at that time, (how DID you ever get wind of my plans, by the way?) the unpredictable nature of the consequences of any timeline-changing act, no matter how “good” it may seem, are seldom if ever worth the risks. I assume, by the way, that Tom Riddle never heard the same lecture? Or, did he choose to ignore it, considering that you were the one who probably taught it to him? Well, no matter. I am quite aware of the whole time-traveling paradox, so I steeled myself to wait and act according to her instructions. From what I understand, Harmony decided to deal with her internal struggle by giving herself a twelve-hour sleeping draught yesterday evening so she wouldn’t be able to give in to her base instincts and interfere, for the fear that it might somehow harm Harry. She really does love him, doesn’t she?

As soon as I saw our three intrepid students huddling together closely, I knew that they were under James’s cloak and were heading towards the grounds. I saw them go to Hagrid’s hut, and when they left, I saw that they had found …Wormtail, and Ron had taken him with them. I saw Sirius attack them, and drag Ron and Wormtail into my old passageway under the Whomping Willow. Then, I knew it was time for me to do my duty. I’m not sure even you can imagine the conflict inside me as I walked from the castle towards the tree, each step taking me closer to that traitor whom I honestly considered to be a friend at one time. Even after the fact, I nearly cannot bear the anger that I am feeling right now when I think of him! But, I was a trouper, and hit my marks on time and said my lines as well as I could. I admit it was strange, at first, to see Sirius there, after having hated him for oh so many years now. But, when I hugged him there in the Shrieking Shack, I…well, I KNEW that he was innocent, as Harmony had said all along.

Unfortunately, it will be a long time before I forget the look of betrayal that was on Miss Granger’s face as she saw me embrace him. I admit it was very difficult to keep up the masquerade when Hermione reacted to my apparent double-cross of her Harry so powerfully. I am sure that if I hadn’t disarmed her previously, my part in this whole affair would have ended on the spot! She is not only the cleverest witch of her age, as I told her then, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t become one of the more powerful ones, too. Her courage and strength are truly astounding! Mr. Weasley also impressed me with his support for Harry last night. Both of his friends were willing to die for him yesterday evening, and as you know that fact alone is very powerful. I’m sure you, in your own due time, will help Harry become aware of the loyalty and love he has to support him. What a powerful team the three of them will make as they continue to draw closer together!

Back to my story, then…Sirius and I were explaining what was happening to the trio, and I assume we must have made somewhat of an impression on them. When Severus tried to interfere, all three of them performed a disarming spell on him at exactly the same time, as if they had been practicing combined spells together for years. I could hardly withstand the force from that combined blast, and I only felt it as it passed. Severus should be sore for a week, I’d wager…not that he didn’t deserve it, the interfering prat! (Sorry, but now that I no longer have to be civil to him as a professional courtesy, I choose not to!) Finally, Sirius and I were able to convince Ron to give up his rat so we could reverse his transformation. Again, Ron showed quite the trust in me when he handed what he honestly believed to be his pet rat over to us. I admit I was quite relieved when Peter stood before us. Even though I thought I believed Harmony, it was a great relief to have such concrete confirmation of her story.

Well, Peter, being the despicable …creature that he is, tried his hardest to make Harry doubt our version of events, but, with Hermione’s logical questions and analysis, combined with Sirius’s heart-felt testimony, I saw the very moment in Harry’s eyes when he believed us. Peter must have seen it too, because he went to pieces under the weight of the evidence and tried begging for mercy, first from Ron, then Hermione, and then, in the most repugnant act of all, from Harry himself! I don’t know who was more incensed, Sirius or myself, over his audacity at even being able to LOOK at the boy after what he had done to James and Lilly! We threw the filthy traitor on the floor and listened as he continued to make the most pathetic excuses about his cowardly actions. We could only listen to him defending his treachery for so long until we could not take it any more. We were about ready to dispose of him as you would any vermin that foul, when I noticed Hermione cover her face with her hands and turn towards the wall so she wouldn’t have to witness our vengeance. I don’t know if seeing his…well, let’s say very close friend so horrified at the prospect of witnessing an execution was a factor, but as soon as she did this, Harry immediately intervened and stopped us. I must admit, even though I already was aware of what his choice would be, it was shocking to hear it from his own lips! I admit that his stated reason for preventing us from carrying the execution out, that of not having his dad’s friends reputations besmirched by murdering such a worthless piece of filth, was both honorable and precisely what James would have done, now that I think about it.

I had a glimmer of hope, even then, when the traitor almost committed suicide with his next action. He actually had the nerve, after all that had happened, to TOUCH Harry again and thank him for his kindness. I saw the look in Harry’s eyes as he pushed the slimy rat’s hands away from him, and I’m sure Harry was seriously reconsidering his decision. He did, at least, make sure Peter knew that if he attempted to transform, he would be dead before his miserable body stopped shrinking.

Sirius floated Snape’s unconscious body through the tunnel, while the …prisoner and I carried the injured Mr. Weasley. By the way, if Severus complains about unexplained headaches or scrapes and bruises in strange places over the next few days, well, let’s just say Sirius wasn’t all that fussed about steering too carefully, if you catch my meaning! The three of us were in the front of the group, but I still heard Sirius offer to take Harry in as soon as he was able to. I’ve never seen two people happier! Harry was ready to move in at that very moment and Sirius was smiling the first smile I’m sure he’s shown for over 12 years now! I hope that Harry will have the opportunity to take him up on that offer. It would be good for both of them, I think.

And then…it happened, just as I knew it would. I transformed and Sirius barely kept me from killing the lot of them. I assume that Peter must have transformed in the confusion and escaped. Of course, for the rest of the story you’ll have to ask others; as I didn’t have the inclination to remember details after that point as you know! Perhaps you will be able to fill in the blanks after you talk to Harry, Hermione, and Sirius. (That is, of course, assuming that you know what happened to him? I am rather curious about that part of the story. Perhaps another time you’ll care to explain?) Also, even though I’d recommend you take his word with a grain of salt, Severus can probably fill in some details, too, after he recovers from his disappointment.

If only Harmony had not insisted, I can’t say that I would have had the courage earlier that evening to pour the Wolfsbane potion down the drain instead of drinking it. I just had a curious thought - I can’t imagine ever forgetting to drink it in her timeline, no matter how distracted I was, since it is such a routine part of my life. Another time-paradox, I suppose, for if I had taken the potion in Harmony’s reality, we wouldn’t be where we are, now would we?

Be that as it may, all I can think of now is the bitter memory I will have the rest of my life…to know I could have stopped the whole series of events, while also knowing that I must not! I can only imagine how much more pain Harmony feels for having told us about it in the first place. I have had the opportunity to spend some time with the older Miss Granger over this past year, especially after I discovered her identity. While I have come to know that she is as human and fallible as the rest of us, I am still awed at the courage and strength that young woman has! I must admit, that if I didn’t know how deep her love was for the Harry she knows, I’d be quite smitten by her! She reminds me so much of another young woman in Gryffindor that we knew while I was at school…but as you know, sometimes pleasant memories are best left alone, even now.

Again, I apologize profusely for any harm I have done to Harry, his friends, you, or the school. I would have never been able to forgive myself if Sirius hadn’t been able to prevent me from acting according to my baser instincts, and the risk of that happening again is too great. However, I also want to thank you for the opportunity you have given me to get to know our young Mr. Potter so well this past year. The praise I was heaping on Miss Granger previously goes double for him. I am honestly amazed that he is growing into such a fine young man, considering the character of those he is forced to spend so much time with. Without even considering his remarkable magical abilities, I’d say that the character and fine qualities he has shown me in class, on the Quidditch pitch, and in the Shrieking Shack last night are those of a true Gryffindor. But, the Sorting Hat has never been wrong before, so I’ll just consider that to be another mystery.

Albus, (I suppose I’ll have to start calling you by your first name again!), if Harry ever needs a bodyguard with a fair knowledge of how to defend against the Dark Arts, please call me!

Respectfully yours,

(s) Remus J. Lupin

“End Letter!” Remus said to the Dictation Quill he had been using. Then, with a sigh, he addressed the parchment, attached it to the school owl’s leg, and began packing the extensive contents of his office.

****

“Remus, my old friend…how I hate to see you go under these circumstances. Sadly, though, I understand why you are resigning. I just wish you weren’t correct in your assumptions!”

Harmony noticed, once again, how tired Professor Dumbledore sounded when he finished his silent reading of the letter. They, too, had been reviewing the events of the previous evening when an owl had delivered a parchment to the Headmaster in his office.

“So, he’s gone ahead with it?” she said, sadly. “In case you are wondering, sir, I said nothing to him about his resigning when I told him about what was to happen. I felt that if he knew in advance that his actions would cause him to step down from his teaching post, it would put too much pressure on him. Besides, knowing his character, I was certain he would make the same decision facing the same circumstances. I just hope he doesn’t hate me too much for my role in this affair.”

“Oh, after reading this letter, I don’t think you have anything to fear along those lines. Our friend Remus seems to be enamored of you, Miss Puckle! In fact, I’ll read you this one section…let me see… ah, here it is… ‘…if I didn’t know how deep her love was for the Harry she knows, I’d be quite smitten by her!’

“Oh…well, that was very sweet of him…” she said, blushing quite red, as much for his mention of her love for Harry as anything. “I must admit…after getting to know him so well this time, I think he is quite an amazing wizard himself. If I didn’t know what I know about him, I’d be surprised that he hadn’t settled down with someone yet. Although, I’m sure his condition puts a damper on establishing permanent relationships, doesn’t it? If things were different, I’m sure I’d be interested in getting to know him better, that’s for sure. But, he’s right…my heart is already spoken for. My Harry is still the only one for me! I just wish I could see him again…” she finished sadly.

“Thank you, Hermione. The kind words you said about Remus just goes to prove his point – you are quite the young woman, you know, in any timeline. As to your wish, let me say this. You have taken on a great burden with this task, and I continue to be amazed at how well you are performing it. Remember, you’re over halfway to your goal! I am also quite sure that the good you have already accomplished here in keeping Harry and your younger self both alive and mainly unaffected by Tom’s influences has already disrupted the plans of his supporters. Who knows, you may have already done enough to restore your timeline back to normal! Unfortunately, we can’t tell, now can we? Please don’t lose hope, Hermione. As long as you keep your hopes and desires in your mind, and perform the actions that are necessary to accomplish them, you won’t be thwarted. Remember what my future counterpart said to you about this before you came here?”

Hermione pondered his question for a moment. “If I remember the gist of it, he said that Tom had overestimated Bellatrix’s abilities while failing to account for all of his opponent’s resources.”

“Exactly, my dear. And, overlooking a powerful witch like you, I feel, will end up being his biggest mistake. I’m sure the thought of a Muggle-born witch being able to do anything to interfere with his plans would never cross his mind.”

“Thanks, Albus…I really needed that,” she said, dabbing her misty eyes on a handkerchief that magically appeared next to her. “Sometimes, it just gets so hard to keep going on…I get so lonely, you know. I haven’t seen my parents or ‘my’ Harry for years, now. I have to keep reminding myself that I’m doing the right thing, but it is good to hear you say it, too!” She smiled gratefully as she noticed he seemed to be quite interested in a most fascinating spider web on the wall behind him, and she lost herself in some very pleasant thoughts for a moment. Finally, she blew her nose quietly and said with fresh resolve, “Enough daydreaming, sir. I would really like to know more about what happened last night. I wish I could have been there, but…well, I thought it would be best if I didn’t have the ability to interfere. You understand, I hope?”

“Of course I do, my dear. I’m sure you are tired of hearing this, but your strength of character never ceases to amaze me. I’m not sure I would have the fortitude to act as you did, faced with a similar situation. I hope I never have to find out! But, on to business. While you were in your self-induced sleep, and from the information I have gathered, things went precisely according to your recollection. Buckbeak was rescued first, then after Sirius was revealed Harry was able to drive off the dementors by the lake, thus saving all three of your lives. After a thrilling flight on the back of a hippogriff,” he said, eyes twinkling, “Harry and your younger self were able to free Sirius before the dementors could administer the kiss, and Severus is quite beside himself, of course. As I admonished the two time travelers before I sent them off on their little time-loop, they were able to save more than one innocent life last night. Oh, and while we’re on that subject, I’m sure you are aware of the symbolism associated with that flight you took?”

Harmony was blushing quite freely once again. “Yes…of course, sir. In fact, that is one of the things that made me start thinking, well, that way about Harry back in my timeline. Up until that point, I thought of him mainly as a very good friend, but…well, something happened that night to broaden my perspective, as it were.”

“Well, do you have any further questions? If not, I think you probably need to go check on your younger self. I’m sure she’d love to share additional details with you. I’m sure that she’s not too interested in visiting Hogsmeade today, under the circumstances. I wouldn’t be surprised if Harry’s not having a chat with Remus by now, if he’s heard the news, so I’m sure she’ll welcome the company. Ron’s probably alone with her, you know…” and with that, Miss Puckle left his office to hurry down towards the lake.

Dumbledore soon followed her on a more serious mission, as he found himself at Lupin’s nearly empty office, and knocked on the door. As it opened he saw Harry there, just as he suspected, but he said nothing.

“Your carriage is at the gates, Remus,” he said.

“Thank you, Headmaster.”

Lupin picked up his effects and said a final goodbye to Harry and the Headmaster, leaving them alone in the office.

“Why so miserable, Harry?” he said quietly. “You should be very proud of yourself after last night.”

“It didn’t make any difference,” said Harry bitterly. “Pettigrew got away.”

“Didn’t make any difference?” said Dumbledore quietly. “It made all the difference in the world, Harry. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate.”

Terrible. Something stirred in Harry’s memory. Greater and more terrible than ever before… Professor Trelawney’s prediction!

“Professor Dumbledore – yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very – very strange.”

*****

Before Dumbledore left the office after explaining about the Patronus Harry had seen the night before, Harry asked one more question.

“Before you go, sir there was one more thing Professor Trelawney said in her prophecy. It didn’t seem to make any sense at all. I heard what you said just now about Pettigrew, but she also said…let me see if I can remember it…something about ‘other servants whose plans are being interfered with rejoining their master in time’. What does that mean, sir?”

“Interesting, Harry. Well, I’ll have to think about that one and let you know if I come up with something. Yes…very interesting…! Now, off you go! Please feel free to come by and talk to me again before you leave for the summer, if you would like. I may have an answer by then.”

(A/N – Well, there you have it. Hope you liked the letter! It was a bit long, I know, but I thought Remus would want to be as thorough as he could. The only canon excerpt was Dumbledore explaining the “Wormtail” part of the prophecy to Harry. Just one more chapter to go for this year! I’m warning you right now, there’s some serious H/Hr “interaction” coming up, along with an interesting revelation. Oh, and if you haven’t figured it out by now, the chapter title translates to “Cat, Rat, and Dog as seen by the Werewolf”. I used Italian, because, well, with a name like Remus, he has to have some Italian in him, don’t you think?)

Chapter 27 – A Walk to Remember

(A/N – No, not the movie…which I haven’t seen, by the way. As you will see, I chose that title for a specific reason – it has a double meaning.)

Dumbledore’s piercing eyes searched the crowd in the Great Hall. Finally, he saw her. “Oh, there you are, Miss Puckle! Please come with me to my office. I have some very interesting information for you!” As she joined him and they left the hall, he couldn’t resist asking her with a cheeky smile, “So, were you able to intercept Ron and Hermione before… anything happened?”

“It depends on what you mean by that, sir,” she said with a neutral tone. “When I found them, there WAS something happening between them, you know…”

Albus was not able to hide the surprise on his face. “No! You don’t mean…they were…well, doing what the teenagers around here seem to spend an inordinate amount of time doing, especially this time of year?”

“Actually, that was EXACTLY what I caught them at. The very thing that many teenagers spend a lot of time with, anyway!” Harmony was struggling to keep a straight face as she saw his confusion.

By this time, they had entered his office and had retired to his private study. Dumbledore’s voice turned somewhat serious. “Miss Granger… please stop equivocating! I AM an old wizard, you know. I don’t think my heart can take any more of this. Now what were the younger Hermione and Ron doing when you found them? Surely you didn’t catch them mid-snog?”

Hearing her oldest friend use that particular phrase was the last straw. A laugh exploded from her lips, and it took a minute for her to catch her breath. Finally, she said, still gasping for air, “Albus, you…you should have seen yourself just now! It was just so…funny to hear you actually say…that you thought …Hermione and Ron…were ‘caught in mid-snog’ as you so bluntly put things! Of COURSE they weren’t! As I said, they were doing what many teenagers do around here, well, those that aren’t snogging each other, of course! They were in a full-blown argument! I mean, that’s how I was able to locate them – I could hear their voices as soon as I left the castle. Seems that Ron has still not taken the time to actually apologize to Hermione about the whole Crookshanks-attacking-Scabbers issue, and my younger self had pointedly reminded him of that fact. So, they were…well, yelling at each other quite loudly when I arrived.” Dumbledore’s expression had changed from surprise to amusement by this time, as Harmony continued.

“By the way, sir; that is the very reason that there will NEVER be any snogging between me and Ronald Weasley, in ANY timeline, thank you very much! When I was younger, I actually did think about what he would be like as a boyfriend for a short while. I soon realized that neither one of us would be happy in that kind of relationship with each other. Much of our interaction, especially when Harry wasn’t around, consisted of the two of us arguing about the silliest things. I suppose I did it just to bait him, and he did it just to tease me, but I can’t see that as a basis for anything permanent. Harry and I, on the other hand, have a different way of handling disagreements in my timeline – it’s more like how my parents work things out, I suppose. That’s what I’m looking for…when the time comes… Sorry, sir, I got distracted again. Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me? Is it something about Harry?”

“Actually, it is, but it also has a lot to do with you, also. After you left my office, I went down to see Remus off, and, as I suspected, Harry was already there. Remus gave him that wonderful map back, by the way. You know, Harmony, if you could arrange it somehow, I’d like to examine it more closely one of these days. Quite remarkable all the things those Marauders were able to get away with right under my nose…” he mused. “Well, never mind that. As I was saying, Harry and I said our goodbyes to Remus, and then we had a talk about what had happened last night, and how important it was that he did not take Pettigrew’s life when he had the chance. You, of all people, know how powerful a wizard’s contract can be, and one that is tied to a life debt is even stronger. He also told me about the prophecy that Professor Trelawney gave during his Divination exam. You’ve already told us about it as we have discussed the events of this year. But, the strange thing is, that it was different this time from the one you related to me. There was an additional line…Harry related it to me this way: something about ‘other servants whose plans are being interfered with rejoining their master in time’, and he wanted to know if I understood what that might mean.”

Harmony gasped as she immediately understood the implications of the new prophecy, and then smiled broadly. “So…my excursion in time is doing something, anyway!! I am actually interfering with their plans! Oh, Albus, thank you so much for passing that on to me! Although, I don’t like the part about the other servants still rejoining their master…” and her smile faded just as quickly as she also remembered exactly what that rejoining would lead to. “No…that means…not that again…!”

“What is it, my dear? Why are you so sad all of the sudden? Please tell me, if you can.” The headmaster’s voice was very calming to her, and she was able to collect herself.

“Before I answer, Albus, just how much do you want to know about what will happen to certain…students…and others? I mean, you saw some of it in the Pensieve when I first arrived here, but I specifically avoided revealing certain…memories. Please help me with this, Albus, how much should I tell you? Would telling you these things and possibly changing events as a result, corrupt the timeline even worse than Tom did? OHHHH! This is SO frustrating!” she said with a grimace.

“Hermione, my dear, I’ve had this discussion with you and many others before. As I have said to you time and time again, DO NOT tell me any more than you must say to help us help you RESTORE the timeline to the way your memories say it should be, at least as closely as possible. Certain events that are changed by your mere presence here are unavoidable, but other critical events MUST remain the same, I fear. If I understand you correctly now, you have knowledge of serious injury, death, or both resulting from events that have been put back into play by our efforts. Without trying to sound heartless and cruel, my dear, you must remember we ALL have to die some time. It is, as the old saying goes, not how long we live, but how we live that matters most. Death is just the next great adventure, you know!”

Hermione sighed, “Yes, I understand all the lectures and theories, but it is a lot harder when you actually have to put the theory into practice. I just wish there was some way…”

Dumbledore cut her off. “You can’t start thinking that way! Just remember why you took that sleeping potion – to prevent you from interfering in any way, even accidentally, in those critical events. You have to trust that you did the right thing by doing the least amount possible. And, thank you for the reminder. Even I need one from time to time, you know. I now know exactly what I must say when Harry asks about the new version of the prophecy. I will be sure and talk to him before he leaves for the summer.”

****

Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, though he knew that they had achieved the near impossible in helping Sirius to freedom, Harry had never approached the end of a school year in worse spirits. This was partially because of Professor Lupin’s resignation, but mainly because of how unbearable life had been in Slytherin House since the night of Buckbeak’s escape with Sirius. Malfoy, of course, was the worst of the lot. While he was incensed thinking that a simple gamekeeper was able to thwart his father’s plans to execute that hippogriff, he was also insufferable in his repeated crowing over both Harry’s banishment from the Quidditch team and Professor Lupin’s forced resignation. He needled Harry about both of these facts incessantly whenever he saw him; as did most of the rest of the house. Harry took to using the invisibility cloak and the map every night to assist him in finding new places to sleep without the constant threat of either verbal or physical attack.

Unfortunately, that was not all that was on Harry’s mind. He couldn’t help thinking about Professor Trelawney’s prediction. He kept wondering where Pettigrew was now…

****

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had passed every subject, although Harry’s potions mark was the lowest he had ever received. Harry wouldn’t have thought it possible that Snape’s feelings for him would have changed so drastically this year, from being a relatively friendly head of house to feeling like he considered Harry an outcast, based on the professor’s threatening glares and comments whenever he saw Harry.

It was, therefore, a rather distressed frame of mind that Harry found himself in as he was wandering aimlessly around the grounds after getting his exam results. But, his mood changed immediately as he heard a familiar, cheerful voice. “Oh, Harry, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! I’ve got to keep a promise to you, you know, and this evening is my last chance!” Hermione had closed the gap between them very rapidly after spotting him. “I hope you’re not avoiding me, Harry! I owe you a walk and a Shakespeare lesson, you know!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right! I forgot all about that!” Harry said with a smile on his face.

Hermione’s face fell as she heard this. “So, does that mean you’re not interested any more, Harry?” If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn she was pouting.

“Of course not, Hermione! I’ve been looking forward to it from the day you promised me. In fact, I even thought of something I could do for you in trade! But, well, you know, I’ve had a lot on my mind recently…what with Sirius and Lupin and all...”

For some reason, Hermione could tell that Harry wasn’t sharing everything that was on his mind with her, and was bold enough to say so. “Anything besides that, Harry? I think something else is bothering you, too…am I right?”

He deliberately avoided her eyes as he answered, “No, nothing, Hermione…I’m fine.” He quickly tried to change the subject back to more pleasant thoughts. “Now, what was this about a walk and a lesson? How do you want to do this? When we get back from our walk, will we need a classroom or something to work in?”

“Silly, it’s not THAT kind of a lesson!” she giggled. “No, this is more of a …practical lesson. Yes, that’s it! A…hands-on approach to Shakespeare, you might say. I was thinking we could…well, do it outdoors, in fact. These late-spring evenings this far north are perfect for what I have in mind.”

“Great, Hermione! That sounds like it will work well for what I wanted to show you.” At her curious look, he tried to explain. “You know the trade I just told you about? It will be easier outdoors, too! I hope you like it when you see it! So, when and where are we going to do this, Hermione?

Hermione was positively beaming as she thought about her plans, even more so now that Harry was going to show her something, too. “Oh, I’ve got it all planned out – never you mind about that. Just meet me in the Entrance Hall when you would normally go to dinner, and bring a good appetite…for both knowledge and food!” And with that, she winked at him and headed back towards the castle and a very important pep talk.

“Oh, Harmony…are you sure this will work out okay? I’m getting very nervous now. What do I do if Harry…well, doesn’t like my plans for this evening?” Hermione’s was quite agitated as she considered those very plans while seated in Miss Puckle’s office. She came in with the excuse of helping her friend pack a few necessities for her stay in London over the summer, but this was quickly forgotten as she realized what she was about to do.

“Steady on, my dear. You’re working yourself into a right state, now aren’t you! If you go to him looking this flustered, you’re sure to get him concerned. Take some deep breaths and relax. It’s not like you’re taking him to some dark corner of the castle to have your way with him, you know!” At these words, and the thoughts they brought to mind of a certain young wizard of HER dreams, Harmony had to stop for a moment and take her own advice. Fortunately, the younger Miss Granger was unaware of this, as she had taken the instructions to heart and was breathing like a swimmer attempting a new breath-holding record.

“Not that deep, Hermione! Slow, deep breaths, not that puffing you were doing! Now, as I was saying, all you are doing is going for a walk to that spot by the lake I showed you, and then you’re having a nice, friendly picnic. After the meal, during which I expect you to actually CONVERSE intelligently with him and not just feed your respective faces, you will then proceed with your Shakespeare instruction. Fortunately, I was able to bring my copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare with me from London last holiday, so you have a text to work with. And then, well, my dear, let nature take its course! I doubt that he will be an unwilling student, if I know Mr. Potter as well as I think I do!” Under her breath, Harmony muttered something that sounded like “…just making sure he’s veela-proof…” but Hermione wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot to mention…When I just told him the time and place to meet me, he said something about a trade he has planned for me for teaching him tonight. He said there’s something he wants to show me! So, do I let him go first, or what? I wonder what it could be?”

“Well, it could be a LOT of things, my dear, many of which I’d prefer not to bring to your mind right now! Be that as it may, I think you should let him go first, right after you finish feeding him those strawberries and cream I got for you. You never know, you may not ever get to the Shakespeare lesson at that, depending on what he has in mind!”, Harmony said with a wicked grin that caused Hermione to turn her head in embarrassment. “MISS PUCKLE! I am shocked that you would say such a thing!”, but, after getting to know her so well in the years since they met, she really wasn’t shocked at all.

****

Fortunately, Harry found that his dorm room, not to mention the Slytherin Common Room, was empty that afternoon as he got ready for…well, his first date ever, he realized, “…and it’s with Hermione, too!” he smiled broadly in the mirror as a warm feeling surged in his chest. The weather outside was perfect, and no one seemed to want to stay indoors. He couldn’t bear to think of the comments that he would have faced from his housemates if they saw him taking such care in his preparations. After a very thorough shower, he put on the nicest jumper and trousers he could find of all of Dudley’s hand-me-downs, and then tried to do something with his hair. As usual, the mirror in the room was less than subtle in its remarks about the hopelessness of his efforts, but he did what he could. “Well, Potter, that’s as good as it gets under the circumstances…I just hope Hermione doesn’t mind too awfully much!”

Hermione, on the other hand, was having a similar conversation with the mirror in HER equally deserted dorm room. “What do you mean, my hair is still too bushy? Do I have to put more of that Sleekeasy stuff on? OHHHH! And no, I can’t do anything about my teeth. Harry says he likes them the way they are, anyway! So there!” She stuck out her tongue at the mirror with a laugh, smoothing down the periwinkle blue jumper and matching skirt that Miss Puckle had recommended she wear. “I just hope Harry doesn’t mind too awfully much!”

Finally, the long-anticipated time had come. Dinner would be starting in just a few minutes in the Great Hall, and Harry, who had been ready for a good thirty minutes already, was trying unsuccessfully to look nonchalant as he paced a lap around the Entrance Hall, for at least the tenth time.

He muttered softly, again for at least the tenth time, “What if she decided not to come? No, you’re just being silly, Potter…Hermione’s not that kind of girl…”

“I’m not what kind of girl, Harry?” her familiar voice came up behind him. He turned, and he finally understood the old Muggle phrase about “a sight for sore eyes…”

“Hermione…is that…you?” His jaw dropped and…he remembered…

Just what he thought he remembered was interrupted by Hermione’s teasing voice. “Of course, Harry! Were you expecting someone else? I don’t remember you mentioning any other plans you had for this evening?” At his unwavering stare, she started to get self-conscious. “What is it, Harry? Something wrong with the way I look? It’s the best I can do with what I’ve got, you know…” she said, attempting to sound unconcerned.

“Er…no…Hermione, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look…it’s just…well, your hair looks so…and that color of blue…wow!” His voice seemed to fail him as he continued to stare at his friend.

“Well, you look quite dashing, yourself, Harry,” she said diplomatically, in an attempt to ease his obvious embarrassment. Actually, she thought the two sizes-too large jumper and slightly too-worn trousers needed some serious attention, but she knew that he was doing the “best he could with what he had”, also. <Hmm…well, if things go the way I hope, the two of us will have to go on a clothes shopping trip one of these days, soon! I’m sure he’ll clean up nicely, given a little bit of help!>. To him, she said, “So, been waiting for me long? I had to stop and pick up our picnic basket, you know! Miss Puckle helped make the arrangements.”

Harry’s voice slowly started returning as he realized she had asked him a question. “No, not long at all, Hermione! In fact, I just got here right before you!” he lied, quite unconvincingly.

Hermione was not fooled, for she had seen him lost in thought, pacing around the hall for a good five minutes before she worked up the courage to meet him. But, she handed him the picnic basket while she took a large blanket that she had brought from her bed, and they headed out the front doors.

As they walked down the hill from the castle, Harry’s confidence returned as he remembered just who he was with, and how much he had been looking forward to this moment. He spoke in an almost normal voice as he asked her, “So… where are we going, Hermione? You said something about a walk? I assume we’re going to a place where we can eat, right?”

“Yes, there’s this place on the lakeshore that is pretty secluded. In fact, it’s not too far from where…well, you saved us from the dementors that night. I thought that would work out best, because I’d rather not have our lesson interrupted. It might be rather embarrassing… for you, you know!”

“Yeah, if someone came across the two of us talking about Shakespeare, I’m sure I’d never be able to live it down! Thanks for thinking about that, Hermione!” They walked the rest of the way in silence, close but not touching, although Hermione could have sworn she caught him glancing at her from time to time. <So, I guess I’ve successfully attracted his attention… Harmony was right about the Sleekeasy and this outfit!>

When they reached the spot Miss Puckle had shown her, Harry was suitably impressed. “This is really nice, Hermione! That big flat rock over there will make a perfect table, and, since we both passed our exams recently, I’m sure we can transfigure us some chairs, now can’t we?”

“Well, actually, Harry, that’s not…well, that’s not how a picnic goes. You’re supposed to…eat on the ground, you know. Why do you think I brought this nice blanket?” Hermione asked, but then she realized before he even said anything what the problem was.

“Well, er…I…the Dursley’s…” Harry stammered, suddenly painfully ashamed of his upbringing.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry…you know I didn’t mean to embarrass you. You’ve never been on a picnic before, have you?” she said sadly.

“No, they always seemed to find a way to foist me off on someone else when they went. All I know about picnics is that they have something to do with baskets and ants. I actually thought you were bringing the blanket in case you got cold tonight or something. I’m sure Petunia would NEVER allow one of her good blankets to be used on something as unclean as the ground, you know! In fact, that’s how I got the only blanket I ever had growing up – it blew off the clothesline in a wind storm when I was about five and ended up on my bed that night.” As he noticed her look of…pity, followed quickly by anger, Harry said quickly. “It’s okay, Hermione. I’ve long since realized that my unique…upbringing is not what anyone would call normal. If only I could have gone to live with Sirius…”

Hermione completed that thought to herself while she expertly spread out the blanket. <…or me…> but shook her head to dismiss the impossibility of it…or, was it impossible? <I’ll have to see…I’m sure Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind. We have that spare bedroom next to mine…>. Her pleasant thoughts were interrupted as she realized Harry was still talking to her about Sirius while she had been getting the food out of the basket.

“..I just barely met him, you know, and now, I miss him so much! He said he would like to have me stay with him! But now, I don’t even know when I’ll see him again…I don’t even want to risk sending him a letter unless I hear from him first!” He flopped down next to her on the blanket, looking very forlorn.

“Harry, listen to me, please! Don’t get yourself all worked up! I’m sure you’ll hear from your godfather as soon as he can get settled somewhere. As to your summer holidays, I’d rather that you not have to deal with them for too long. I’m sure Miss Puckle and I will be able to figure out some way to get you out of the Dursley’s ‘evil clutches’ soon. Really soon, Harry,” said Hermione earnestly. “We promise.”

Again, as had happened the last time she said those words to him, she saw that Harry’s face went completely blank. “Harry, what I said just now…it triggered that memory again, didn’t it? The one you said you couldn’t share with me last time, when I proposed this get-together? Can you now? Please? Trust me, Harry, I really think you need to tell someone,” she said with as much warmth as she could express.

Harry continued to stare deep into Hermione’s eyes, lost in thought. Normally self-conscious when under that kind of scrutiny, Hermione thought instead that she would be glad to let him look for as long as he wanted as she stared back into his green eyes. Finally, she could almost feel him gather his courage to speak. “Yes, Hermione, you’re right. It is time…” and he proceeded to share with her what he had seen in his mind twice now.

“It was the same both times,” he started in slowly. “We were at King’s Cross Station, and you were…well, older, like I mentioned before. Based on your teeth, and…erm, that other difference we discussed last time, well, yeah, you were at least a little older than you were that other time I told you about. You were walking away from me, and you looked so…beautiful… and you made that same promise to me about doing something really soon… then, I remember feeling a sad, sinking feeling deep inside, like I wouldn’t be seeing you again for a long time. But, there’s more to it than that. As I was walking towards the car park, somehow I knew that I had hurt you very badly …I remember thinking about a battle…I saw you lying unconscious in a strange room, and for some reason Neville Longbottom was there and he said you had a pulse…” Harry’s voice, which had gotten progressively softer while he was speaking, caught in his throat in an unmistakable sob at the emotions he was remembering.

Hermione had already moved closer to him so she could hear better, and when she heard his sob she instinctively put her hand on his. “It’s okay, Harry. I’m fine. I’m here with you, and I’m not hurt. Let it out, Harry, I’m listening,”, but her heart nearly broke at his next words.

“Hermione, whatever happened to you in that room, I know I caused it! I might have killed…” and he broke down in tears. Immediately, Harry felt her arms around him as they sat on the blanket, and he once again felt an indescribable joy fill his chest.

“Harry, listen to me…I’m here. Feel me in your arms. I’m not dead. You haven’t hurt me! I don’t think that’s even possible, Harry. I think I know you better than that,” and her eyes glistened with tears as she said it.

The two teenagers just sat there, crying softly on each other’s shoulders as they held each other, sharing strength with each other through the warmth of their embrace. Finally, he started to regain some composure and he began to apologize. “Hermione, I…I didn’t mean to…well, let you see me that way. It’s not very manly, now is it?” he said with a weak smile. “I’m normally not all that emotional…it’s just…”

“Mister Harry Potter! You just stop right there!” she said firmly, releasing him from her hug just enough to look him in the eyes. “You don’t see me storming off in disgust, now do you? I was just about ready to thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me, and I will not have you apologize to me for what just happened here. You have nothing to be ashamed of, you know. I’d rather be with someone like you that can share his feelings than …well, someone who can’t seem to ever do that without shouting,” and a familiar red-headed boy’s face crossed her mind.

“Yeah…well, just promise me you won’t tell anyone about it, okay?” he said seriously. “I mean, it’s bad enough having to live in Slytherin House as it is, but if anyone there got wind of this, I don’t know that I’d be able to survive the fallout.”

“Here, hand me your glasses. I’ll dry them while you wipe your eyes on this serviette,” she said, opening the picnic basket and rooting around for a minute. “Seriously, Harry, don’t you know I’d never tell another student about this? Remember, you can trust me!” she winked at him as she said this, trying to cheer him up. “But, that brings up a good point I wanted to talk to you about. First, let’s start in on this wonderful dinner, though!”

As they got settled with their food, Hermione continued as they ate. “Harry, I’ve always wanted to know…just why are you in Slytherin House? Did the sorting hat…well, offer you another choice at the time? I don’t know if you know this, but when I was sorted, the hat seriously considered putting me in Ravenclaw. But then, he said something about me being braver than I was smart, so he asked me which one I preferred, and I chose Gryffindor.”

“Actually, no,” Harry admitted truthfully. “But, funny you should mention that. Remember last year, when I had that run-in with the Basilisk?” She nodded, eyes widening at the memories. “Well, afterwards, the headmaster told me…that only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that sword I used out of the sorting hat, so he offered me the chance to, how’d he put it… ‘give it a try in Gryffindor.’ At the time, he said that they could make the necessary arrangements to house me in the tower.”

It was now time for Hermione’s jaw to drop. “Are you serious, Harry? That’s…well, I’ve read all of Hogwarts, a History, you know…Oh, stop it!” she giggled as he rolled his eyes at her, “…and I’ve never heard of a student ever being allowed to switch houses after their sorting. So, did you even consider it? Why didn’t you take him up on it?”

“I almost did, Hermione. I remember as soon as he offered the chance to me, I immediately thought of …well, you, to be totally honest, how nice it would be to be in the same house with you…and the Weasley’s, of course,” he said quickly. “But, as I thought about it some more, I realized the time wasn’t right. I was still getting along with …my head of house then, and I saw that I still had a few friends there, with Blaise’s group of ‘misfits’, so I chose to stay where I was at the time.”

“But now, Harry?” she finished his thought for him. “Do you still feel the same way…about switching, that is?”

He once again looked deeply into her eyes, as if he were seeking the strength he needed to say what had to be said. “No, Hermione…I can’t say that I do…!”

“So, what are you going to do about it?” she prompted gently.

“Well, I suppose it’s time to have a little talk with Dumbledore and see if his offer is still good.” Harry said, simply. “Now, let’s have some more of that great food, and then I think we have some lessons to get to!”

Now that the “ice” had broken in their relationship, Harry and Hermione found as they sat together eating their dinner that they were very comfortable talking together about anything and everything. It was as if they were lifelong friends who had been interrupted in the middle of a conversation, and when they met again, they picked it up right where they left off.

Finally, as Harry popped the last cream-covered strawberry in Hermione’s mouth as she lay stretched out on the blanket, the meal was over. “Why don’t you clean up the dishes, Harry, and I’ll put them away.” Harry waved his wand, said “Scourgify!”, and the plates and glasses they had used were once again sparkling. Hermione nodded in approval, waved her wand and said “Pack!” They laughed, both thinking how much harder Muggles had it.

“Since you were so kind as to bring the meal, I suppose it’s time for me to return the favor.” Harry said, smiling broadly. “Are you ready?”

Hermione could barely contain her curiosity. “What is it, Harry! What have you been planning?”

“Well, I…I heard…that you had some trouble with your DADA exam, and…I thought I might be able to …tutor you a little on some things I picked up from Professor Lupin. Anything at all that you think you could use some help with,” he said, watching her reaction carefully.

“Oh…well, of course, Harry. I…can’t say that I was expecting that, but, yes. I’d love to have you show me what you’ve learned. OOOH! Can you show me your…well, your Patronus?” she said excitedly..

“Actually, that’s exactly what I thought of, and that is why I was so happy when you said we were doing this outside. It gives the Patronus room to form and move around, you know. So, to form a Patronus, you…”

Trying to sound as if he were an instructor himself, Harry began demonstrating various aspects of the Patronus charm to her, showing her the differences in the power of the shield based on the strength of the happy memory he used. After one demonstration, only a tiny puff of silver came out of his wand and faded quickly. “See, that time, I was just thinking of finding a lost Knut on the ground, and, while a nice thought, it’s not nearly happy enough to do any good.”

“So,” Hermione had switched into ‘student’ mode. “If I understand you correctly, Harry, you could, with practice, bring up thoughts of different ‘powers’, shall we say, to create a Patronus of exactly the right size for the situation. That would keep you from overtaxing your magical energy unnecessarily, now wouldn’t it? Harry, I think you may be on to something here. Let’s see…now, finding a Knut on the ground, that seems to be sort of a minimum threshold, doesn’t it? We could establish that as a power baseline, and then think of increasingly happier thoughts, and compare the size and strength of the resulting Patronus. Remind me next term to talk to Miss Puckle and Professor Vector about this – we need to use some Arithmancy analysis techniques on this charm, and between the two of them, they know a lot about both subjects. Okay, Harry, if this is true, then let’s see what your upper limit is…without being too nosy, what’s the happiest memory you’ve ever felt when you’ve created a Patronus. Like, say, the one you used to chase off all of those Dementors…”

“Ahem…well, to tell you the truth…” he said, clearing his throat nervously, “if I ever need to create a really powerful Patronus, I…well, Ithinkofyou,” he said very softly and rapidly.

“What was that, Harry? I didn’t quite hear you.” She actually had, but she was enjoying watching him squirm a little.

“I…I think of you, okay?” he said, reddening quickly.

“Just checking, Harry…” she said with what is best described as a Cheshire cat grin. “So, let’s try that. Why don’t you think …well, whatever you think about when you think of me, and then cast the Patronus just so I can see the difference? If this works the way I suspect, I’ll know that there is a reason to proceed with this whole investigation.”

“Sounds reasonable, Hermione…Okay, here we go.” This time, however, he had a new thought to focus on. He remembered how he had just felt this very evening, feeling Hermione in his arms, sharing her strength with him, being with her, talking to her, feeding each other strawberries and cream, and… “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The resulting explosion of power from his wand would have blinded any Muggles that might have witnessed it. As it was, Hermione had to cover her eyes with her arm as a gigantic stag, appearing to be made out of pure diamond, burst out. She blinked, and the Patronus walked majestically around them, finally coming over next to her. She felt compelled, somehow, to reach out to the magnificent sight, and cautiously touched the shining form. “Harry, it…it’s so…solid!” she said in awe. “And…so beautiful…”

The Patronus lasted for a full ten minutes before it faded. During that time, Harry drummed up the courage to climb on its back after silently asking for permission. After he was settled, he reached out his hand to Hermione. “Just like with the Hippogriff, you know…although I don’t think this one will be flying off with us.” Since she was wearing a skirt, (“Well, I wasn’t expecting to be riding a stag today, now was I?”, she said testily to an amused Harry) she ended up sitting down on the stag in front of him sidesaddle so she would maintain some propriety, just as her mother taught her. He put his arms around her to steady her, and the stag’s power seemed to surge immediately. The stag began to walk slowly around their picnic site. The two teens rode him, basking in the energy they felt, until the edges of the stag started to shimmer and slowly fade. They dismounted before it completely faded and then they sat down on the blanket, both of them with jaws dropped almost to their chest.

“WOW!”

Harry and Hermione both sat there stunned, amazed at what had just happened.

“And for my next act…” Harry finally managed to croak out. “Hermione, I promise, I wasn’t expecting that…not at all,” he said, weakly.

Hermione was still attempting to collect herself after witnessing the magical power Harry had just demonstrated. “I…well …very…impressive, Harry…I didn’t know…that it would be so big…and solid…and last so long…” Her voice started to come back. “Are you okay, Harry? You sounded a little weak there! Did you overdo it? Do we need to go back to the castle and see Madam Pomfrey?”

“NO...I mean, no, of course not…Actually, I’ve never felt better. It’s almost as if that didn’t take any effort at all. I’m not tired, just surprised! When I was holding you just then, it was as if…you were helping me keep it going…as if you were sharing your magic with me.”

“That’s strange…that’s exactly what I felt, Harry! But, it wasn’t draining at all, either. Well, more mysteries to investigate, I guess. I’d still like to tell Harmony and Professor Vector about this, you know.”

“Are you sure, Hermione? I know you like them both, and Miss Puckle has been very nice to me, but…now that I think about it, I’d almost rather keep that between us, you know.”

“Okay, Harry…How’s this? If in the future, we both feel that we can talk to someone about it, we’ll do it together.”

“Yes, that would work…I just don’t want you to tell her all about it without me there, for some reason.”

After a minute of blissful silence sitting on the blanket wrapped in each other’s arms, Hermione said sadly, “But Harry, after what you just showed me, I’m sure my…Shakespeare lesson will be somewhat of a disappointment. I don’t think Romeo and Juliet can compare with what just happened.”

“I beg to differ, ‘Mione. I did a little research on that play too, you know, and I’m not too sure that there aren’t a lot of similarities between what we just did and the two of them. Although, you ARE a lot older than Juliet, now aren’t you!” he said, flashing a grin at her. “I mean, you’re almost 15, and she wasn’t quite 14 if I remember right?” And wasn’t Romeo the older of the two? That doesn’t match with us at all!

“Oh, yes, I’m positively ancient” she answered wryly, standing up while pretending to stoop over and walk with a cane. “And you are SO much younger than me, Mr. Potter – I’ll be accused of robbing the cradle, now won’t I? By the way, Harry, what was that you just called me now?”

“Erm…I just called you ‘Mione, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to! Ron told me how much you hate being called that! I’m so sorry…”

“Oh, stop apologizing! I don’t like it if anyone else, especially Ron, calls me that…but, in your case, I really don’t mind.” Harry heard a definite purr in her voice. “My parents call me that, you know, so it’s sort of personal. Just one thing, Harry, promise me you won’t call me that around anyone else…and don’t do it all the time. I don’t think that would be a good idea. I’d hate to get tired of hearing you say that to me.”

“Okay, ‘Mione…it is easier to say, you know. Now, I want YOU to stop apologizing – I’ve been looking forward to this lesson you’ve been promising me for weeks now, and I’m not leaving here until you give me what I want!” he finished, winking at her cheekily.

“Thanks, Harry…let’s get started, then.” and she smiled again at him, causing his heart to flutter.

Hermione began by transfiguring the ground itself into a reasonable-looking stage, and charmed their respective clothes to appear as the traditional costumes of Romeo and Juliet. “That will help get us in the mood, Harry. Like I said, this is going to be a practical lesson.”

She proceeded to give a short, but accurate summary of not only the play, but the historical context of the time and place it was both set in and written in. Harry had never been so enthralled by a subject in his life, although he knew it was because of his newly awakened feelings for the instructor. “Now, Harry, why don’t we try some of the play ourselves? We’re dressed for it, you know, and I think this would allow us to experience its themes first hand. You up for it, Harry?”

“Sure, Hermione, although I don’t have any experience reading lines…Petunia refused to let me participate in any plays at school. Said she didn’t want to have to spend money on a costume for me.”

“Never mind that, Harry. You don’t have to memorize anything, just read along and I’m sure you’ll do fine. Hmmm…here’s a good scene, just the two of us. It’s the first time Romeo and Juliet meet…Act 1 Scene 5 lines 93 through 110, you see where I am? Great…You’ve got the first line, so go ahead when you’re ready.”

Harry grinned, and started his lines, although he was unfamiliar at first with the archaic language of the Bard. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

Hermione picked up the scene as if she had practiced for quite some time, (which, honestly, she had…) “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray -- grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Harry had finally figured out where this scene was leading, and started to smile.

Hermione kept going bravely as she saw him smile, since she had been anticipating this moment for some time now. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.”

“Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.” (And, right on cue, he looked deeply into her eyes, and then kissed Hermione gently.)

After a pause to catch her breath, Hermione continued, a bit unsteady on her feet. “Then have my lips the sin that they have took.”

“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” Harry’s kiss was much more enthusiastic this time, which didn’t upset Hermione at all.

She sighed happily as she looked into the eyes of an equally happy Harry, and said her final line from the scene, “You kiss by the book.”

“You were right, Hermione…”Harry said back to her after some additional practice, “You promised you’d make it interesting…”

****

The next day, Harry, still on an emotional high from the night before, was surprised to see a note appear next to his plate at breakfast. It consisted of a simple sentence: “Come see me in my office as soon as you can…the password is Candy Kisses”, and it was signed by the headmaster.

He hurried to Dumbledore’s office and knocked on the door, hoping to hear something more about the prophecy. Instead, he was surprised to see Professor McGonagall standing next to Dumbledore, as was Professor Snape, whose face had apparently developed a noticeable tic.

The headmaster spoke first. “Mr. Potter, it has been brought to our attention that you would like to follow up on my conversation with you from just over a year ago, in which I offered you the opportunity to switch your house affiliation. Is this information correct?”

Harry chuckled to himself <Well, Hermione sure didn’t waste any time, did she? I’ll have to thank her when I see her. I was going to wait until later to see the headmaster.> then he said, quietly. “Well…yes sir, it is.” At this, Snape visibly stiffened, while McGonagall’s eyes widened and he thought he almost saw her smile for a second.

“As you may have already heard, Harry, a change in house affiliation during a student’s stay here has never happened before at Hogwarts. But, due to the unique information we discovered last year, along with …recent events that have occurred, I feel that this is the best option for you now. As of now, you are officially a member of Gryffindor House, and beginning in the Fall term, you will be moving in with the other fourth year male students. The teachers and staff will all be notified of this change as appropriate, and the heads of houses will pass the word on to their students. Thank you, Severus, Minerva, for witnessing this change. If you would so kindly excuse us now, now, I need a private word with Mr. Potter.”

The two professors left and Harry waited patiently for Dumbledore to speak. “Harry, I have three things to say to you. First, welcome to Gryffindor, and congratulations for making the decision you made last night when the time was right. I assume that you…well, had a little help in making up your mind?” His eyes twinkled as Harry stared at them.

“Yes sir, I did, from a very good friend of mine.” Harry said with a wide grin.

“Then, Harry, that brings up the second thing I wanted to say: Congratulations again…on your choice of ‘very good friends’. I have it on very good authority that…well, let’s say it’s about time! Finally, Harry, I’m sure you are still curious about that one phrase in the prophecy you asked me about. After fully studying it and evaluating it carefully, I have come to the conclusion…” Harry was holding his breath, waiting for Dumbledore’s next words. “…that I don’t know exactly what it may mean!”

“Wha…what?” Harry let out his breath rather explosively. “But, I thought…surely you have an idea?”

“Unfortunately, regardless of what Professor Trelawney may have inferred in her classes this year, divination is a rather imprecise art form. Any interpretation of that prophecy at this time would be premature. I will continue to study it, and if I find anything of interest to you, I’ll be sure and let you know. Now, I think you have a train to catch, Mr. Potter!”

*****

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station, Hermione gave Harry and Ron some surprising news in the compartment the three of them shared with Crookshanks and Hedwig.

“I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I’ve decided to drop Muggle Studies.”

“But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!” said Ron.

“I know, sighed Hermione, “but I can’t stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I’ve handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I’ll be able to have a normal schedule again.”

Ron decided that he needed to visit the loo, so Harry took the opportunity to give her a hug and a quick kiss as he said, “Hermione, I assume that you had something else to say to Professor McGonagall this morning besides turning in that Time-Turner, am I right? Thank you for that, by the way! I was going to tell Ron the news, but I guess we’ll have to find something else to keep us occupied until he gets back.” She smiled a wicked grin at him, but before he put his arms around her again, he said, “’Mione, I still can’t believe you didn’t tell Ron or me about that Time-Turner. I know we weren’t all that close of friends in the past, well, at least not as close as we are now, but it would have explained a lot, you know, and maybe I could have helped lighten your load a little.”

“Oh, Harry, you don’t know how much I would have liked to tell you, but I had to promise just about everyone from the Minister for Magic on down that I wouldn’t tell anyone, especially you! But, it’s over with now, and I’d say we have a few minutes at least before Ron comes back, and these blinds are pretty good at keeping snooping eyes from seeing in this compartment, so…”

***

As late afternoon approached, Harry was the happiest he thought he had ever been. He had…well, a girlfriend, a new House to look forward to next term, and a potential invitation to attend the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys. Ron, when he had heard about his new dorm mate, had excitedly offered to check if Mr. Weasley could get a ticket for him, too. “Well, only if you invite her along!” he said, pointing at Hermione who was sitting on the opposite seat to keep up appearances. “I’m sure she would love to go, too, wouldn’t you, Miss Granger?”

“Honestly, Harry!” Ron said with exasperation. “You don’t have to call her Miss Granger any more. I mean, she’s in your same house now. Surely you can call her by her first name, can’t you? I mean, you don’t mind, do you, Hermione?”

“Oh…no, I suppose I could let him do that, if he wants to, that is. How about it, Mr. Potter…I mean, Harry? You think we can call each other by our first names all the time now?” Harry shook her outstretched hand with exaggerated formality. As he did so, though, he caught her eye and both of them nearly burst into laughter. Ron smiled at both of them, totally oblivious. “All right, then, that should get you two off to a good start. Can’t have you fighting from the word go, now can we?” he said, obviously proud of his peacemaking skills.

“Harry,” said Hermione suddenly, peering over his shoulder. “What’s that thing outside your window?”

****

“I’ll call about the World Cup!” Ron yelled after Harry as Harry bid him goodbye. He then turned back to Hermione, who had a sad look on her face. “Oh, Harry, please be careful this summer…don’t go blowing up any relatives or anything. Assuming Ron can get tickets for us, I expect to see you at that Quidditch thing…what do you call it?” she said, grinning. “In fact, I can’t wait to have a chance to ‘greet’ you. I’ve heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know…”

“I’m not too sure,” Harry said, grinning back at her. “I’d say I’m already pretty fond of you as it is…don’t know if I could GET any more fonder of you…that’ll be an interesting experiment. I’ll let you know the results when I see you next time!” and with that, he kissed her quickly before he wheeled his trolley toward Uncle Vernon…

****END OF YEAR THREE

(A/N - Hmmm…was that enough H/Hr interaction for you…considering that this won’t go beyond a PG-13 fic? In the final repost of this chapter, I have added a bit more detail to the Romeo and Juliet scene compared to when it was originally posted to make it a little more clear what happened.)

Chapter 28 – A Short Prologue to Year Four

(A/N – Here’s a bit of a “teaser” for the upcoming year’s events. It will be a much shorter chapter.)

“ALOHOMORA”

The old lock on the ivy-obscured door clicked open, and a darkly shrouded male figure, apparently carrying a wrapped bundle, nudged the door with his foot. The rusty, seldom-used hinges protested loudly at the intrusion, but fortunately there was no one in the area to hear. There was also no one to notice the very large snake that followed the man inside.

“COLLOPORTUS”

The lock clicked again, sealing the door as if it had never been disturbed. The man, still carrying his bundle as if it were a child in his arms, went where he had previously been directed - to an upstairs sitting room in the formerly impressive manor house. He found that the room contained a fireplace with an old, tattered rug and a large, ornate chair in front of it. The chair hadn’t been used in years going by the thick layer of dust visible on the cushions. He considered the chair for a moment, pointed what looked like a tree branch at it, and then said,

“SCOURGIFY”

The chair was suddenly as clean as if it were newly made. Satisfied, the man gently lowered his bundle into the chair with a barely noticeable shudder. With both hands free now, he also lowered the hood on his cloak and turned towards the empty fireplace. There was no wood or coal there after all these years, but the man seemed to not even notice as he again pointed the stick at the grate.

“INCENDIO”

The fireplace suddenly filled with magical flames, flickering eerily through the grimy windows. Anyone passing outside would have noticed the light, if they bothered to look. But, the residents of that neighborhood had spent years actively ignoring any strange goings on in that particular house, and this night was no exception.

A cold, high-pitched voice was heard in that room for the first time in fifty years, although its owner’s form had changed significantly during that time. “Very good, Wormtail…At least you are still capable enough of a wizard to perform basic housekeeping spells…”

“Y…yes, master…I do my best…” the timid voice of the man who had brought the bundle to this room answered.

“…Wormtail, how many times have I told you to not interrupt me, especially when you are just being obsequious? You assumed I was complimenting you just now?” and there was an evil-sounding cackle, coming obviously from the cloth-wrapped bundle. “I was about to chastise you for not casting a silencing charm on the hinges first, you imbecile! If anyone had been nearby, they would have heard the door open, and I daresay you would have had to do more than some housekeeping spells, eh, Wormtail?” he sneered.

“Y…yes, master, if you so commanded me…I would obey”, he said with obvious fear.

“I’m sure you will, Wormtail. I’m sure you will. Now, do you know what is important about this specific house in this Muggle village?” the first voice said amusedly.

“Th…this is where…Tom Riddle Sr. lived, isn’t it, Master? With his parents…?”

“WORMTAIL – I WARN YOU - NEVER MENTION THAT MUGGLE’S NAME IN MY PRESENCE AGAIN!” the voice was quite agitated as the bundle squirmed against the back of the chair.

“My Lord…I beg your forgiveness…I did not mean to offend.”

“But, you do…by your very presence, you do offend me, Wormtail. Ah, no matter, I can be patient, even with you. Yes, this is the house of that pathetic Muggle and his parents. This is the very house where I killed the three of them, on a night fifty years ago, as they sat down to dinner. From what I gathered later, no one even noticed they were dead until the next morning”, he chuckled grimly. “And, it is the place where I choose to wait until my faithful followers can overcome the interference that has affected all of our plans.”

“I…interference, my Lord? Who could interfere with any plans you have developed? You…you are such a wise wizard, master, and…”

“Silence, Wormtail! I grow tired of your subservience! Although, in this case you are partially correct, out of sheer dumb luck, I suppose. If this were entirely my plan to both design AND implement, I am sure we would not be having these distractions. However, due to the apparent ineptness of others of my followers, things have become more complicated. Instead of being able to focus my resources on the better of the two plans, I have to continue working on two sets of plans to guarantee I will achieve my desired results.”

“T…two plans, my Lord?” he sputtered.

“Yes, Wormtail. Listen and learn for once, if you are capable of doing so. I am about to share something with you that is of great importance to me. I would prefer to have a more useful servant to work with, but you will have to do. Over four years ago, when I was sharing the mind and body of that useless idiot Quirrell, I received a very strange communication through mysterious means. The message was purported to be from some of my followers in the future who had been working with a future version of myself to develop a means to solve the problem of a certain…thorn in my side once and for all – the problem of Harry Potter!” he said, menacingly. “If this plan had been implemented correctly, I am quite certain by now that young Mr. Potter would already be standing at my side, and you…would probably still be a rat, cowering in that Muggle-loving Weasley’s pathetic hovel. However, apparently someone has interfered with these plans because certain events have not happened as they should have. As a result, I have resurrected another set of plans to dispose of Mr. Potter permanently in case we are unable to discover and eliminate the cause of the interference.”

“What plans are those, my Lord?”

“First, you must feed me. I feel quite weak from traveling. Bring me the bottle.”

****

It was Frank’s bad leg that woke him; it was paining him worse than ever in his old age. He got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen with the idea of refilling his hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in his knee. Standing at the sink, filling the kettle, he looked up at the Riddle House and saw lights glimmering in its upper windows.

(A/N – To read what happens next, just read the rest of the first chapter of Goblet of Fire, following that sentence, starting at the bottom of Page 5 in the US Scholastic Edition.)

Chapter 29 – After Effects

(A/N – This chapter fits in right before the start of Chapter 6 of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.)

“G’night, Harry…”

“Good night, Ron. Thanks again for inviting me to your house! I’ve never been to a wizard home before…” Harry stopped talking as he realized, based on the snoring coming from the bed next to his, that Ron was already asleep. <Wow! And I thought Crabbe snored loudly! Good thing I know how to use a silencing charm, or else I won’t be getting much sleep in Gryffindor Tower!>

At that thought, he again felt a warm, calm feeling come over him as if he were finally headed back to the House where he belonged all along. When he had gotten the invitation from Molly Weasley to come stay with them overnight before they left for the Quidditch World Cup, he had immediately felt like he was being released from prison early so he could go…well, the only word for it was home, something that Harry wasn’t all that familiar with. His summer hadn’t been anywhere near as unpleasant as previous ones with the threat of Sirius at the back of the Dursely’s minds. But, he couldn’t deny he was happy that his last view of Privet Drive had included Dudley pinned under Petunia with his engorged tongue flopping around on the floor, with Vernon and Arthur engaged in a duel. <Maybe that will teach Dudders to not be such a pig about sweets!> he thought to himself.

And then, coming to the Burrow for the first time, he knew somehow that he had been there before. Everything seemed so familiar…he recognized the Weasley’s magical clock, the sounds of the ghoul in the attic; everything…even though he also knew it wasn’t possible. Any thoughts of that nature were immediately forgotten at what happened next. He had been introduced to Ron’s older brothers and was getting to know them a little while Arthur and Molly started discussing the twin’s recent behavior, when…he saw her, walking in the kitchen doorway with Ginny and his heart surged with joy.

Harry had, of course, been in daily contact with Hermione over the summer (thanks entirely to Hedwig’s tireless service – Harry knew that the Dursleys wouldn’t let him anywhere near the phone, especially if they knew it was a friend of his calling from school). But, as soon as he saw her he knew that letters and parcels were just not the same. Of course, to a casual observer Hermione really hadn’t changed much since he saw her walking to meet her parents at King’s Cross station, but to Harry it was as if he hadn’t seen her in years. She caught his eye for a second as she walked in the kitchen, and he knew immediately that she was feeling the same way about him. <I guess she was right…as usual…about that ‘absence making the heart grow fonder’ business…I’ll have to let her know as soon as we get a moment together – alone!>

Unfortunately, they had yet to have that moment alone, what with all the hauntingly familiar gnome-chasing, Quidditch-talking, Percy-insulting, table-dueling, and feasting that had gone on that evening. However, just being near her, seeing her again was pretty wonderful in and of itself, and the few times he was able to sneak a look at her he could swear that he could almost hear her voice in his head telling him to be patient.

At that moment, however, he knew that the time for patience was over. He slowly got up out of bed, quietly dressed, and eased his way out into the hall and down the stairs so they wouldn’t creak too loudly. When he entered the kitchen, he wasn’t surprised at all to see a bushy-haired silhouette of someone sitting at the table waiting for him in the dark. “Took you long enough, Potter…” and those were the last recognizable words that were spoken in that room for a while as their mouths were otherwise occupied.

“Hello to you, too!” Hermione finally was able to murmur in his ear as they broke for air. “I guess this means that I was right, eh? You know - the absence thing?”

“You know, Hermione,” Harry whispered softly to her as she sat comfortably in his lap, her head nestled against his neck with their arms tightly around each other, “that’s exactly what I was thinking of when I knew I had to come down here to see you.”

“Honestly, Harry, since it is rather dark down here, I don’t know that you’ve actually seen me yet tonight, now have you?” she whispered back with a chuckle. “Tell you what – let’s go outside so we don’t have to keep whispering and we can take care of that problem. Since we’re at a wizard family’s house, the Ministry won’t be too concerned that we’re using magic, especially normal housekeeping charms. You did bring your wand, didn’t you?”

“Won’t go anywhere without it…or you, if I get my wish!” he answered her, sweeping her up in his arms and heading out the back door into the yard. Due to the lateness of the hour when they had finished eating and talking, the long tables were still set up in the garden. Molly had said she would take care of them after everyone else left for the campground the next morning.

“HARRY!” she squealed as he set her down on the end of the table, standing right in front of her. “Why are you putting me up here? Can’t we sit on the bench?”

“Nope, I have something better in mind. First, some light on the subject!” While Harry reached for his wand in his trouser pocket, Hermione muttered “Lumos!” to her wand. They were both surprised to see Harry’s wand was already lit when he pulled it out.

“Hermione…you…you’re affecting my wand…and you’re not even touching it!” Harry said. “Wait…let me try!” and he said “NOX!” The light on both wands immediately went out. “Wow…is it supposed to do that? I thought you had to be in contact with the wand for Lumos to work, especially with someone else’s wand!”

“That’s right, Harry…unless…” and she blushed as she considered how to say this, “Unless…you’re, well, close to the other person.” As he put his arms around her and started to nuzzle her neck, she said, “No, not that way, Harry…although… that is very nice…stop that, Mr. Potter, I’m trying to explain something to you…Harry…please…” Finally he moved away slightly, and she took a deep breath to calm herself before she could continue. She cleared her throat and said, “As I was saying…I have read that two people can use each other’s wands without touching them when they are close to each other…emotionally, if you know what I mean.”

“Wait a second, ‘Mione”, he said as he muttered “Lumos!”, and both wands lit up as before. “That’s much better! Are you saying…that because of what happened – well, that night by the lake, we’re now able to control each other’s wands?”

“In a nutshell, yes…does that bother you, Harry?” she asked cautiously, looking into his by now familiar green eyes.

“Of course not! I think it’s great! That is, if it doesn’t bother you?” he replied, taking the opportunity to lovingly examine her face in the combined light of their wands. He knew right then that he would never get tired of that sight, no matter how long he lived.

“No, of course not, Harry…I just didn’t want you to…I don’t know, get nervous about, well, what this implies. We’re still teenagers, you know – this kind of thing usually only happens with older…couples.”

<But I am older!> an insistent voice (that sounded a lot like himself, but deeper and more mature) in Harry’s head seemed to shout. Instead, he said with a goofy grin, “So, do you want to think of us…that way?”

“Yes, if you’re okay with that? Although, we’d better keep it quiet for now, you know, when we get back to school and all,” she said apologetically.

“Yeah, you’re right…what with all the other changes that will be happening at Hogwarts, I don’t want people to get the idea that I changed houses just to be with my…girlfriend…” and he nervously looked to see if she was upset by his use of that word.

Her eyes glistened as she quietly said, “Harry…did you just call me…your girlfriend?”

“Erm…yes…is that okay?” Harry’s confidence started to wane slightly. “I mean…if you don’t mind…”

“Oh, Harry…of course I don’t mind. Although, I am nervous about…well, how fast we’re going – It seems so sudden sometimes, but …”

“…other times it just seems right, doesn’t it?” Harry finished her thought for her. “Almost like we’ve been through this before or something and we’re just doing what we should have done a long time ago.”

“Harry…that’s exactly what I was feeling just then! And, a minute ago, after I mentioned ‘older’ couples, I could have sworn I heard a voice in my head that sounded just like an older version of you saying that you were older…do you know anything about that?”

“’Mione…I heard the same voice in my head! But I promise it wasn’t me! I just turned 14 less than a month ago, and I know that’s not all that old…I’m still ten months younger than you, you know!”, he grinned as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Yeah, one of us has to be the mature one in this relationship!” She smacked him lightly on his shoulder as Harry stuck his tongue out in reply. “Wow…we have a relationship!” she sighed happily. “But, Harry…we do need to let someone know… about what’s happening between us. Especially the wand thing, and the …the voice in our heads just now. I mean, even in the wizarding world, hearing voices in your head isn’t a good sign. We need to let the Headmaster know…or Harmony, maybe!”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Although…I’ve already thought about writing Dumbledore this summer about something else, and I don’t know how to contact him. And, isn’t Miss Puckle staying at her flat in London during the summer? This isn’t something I’d want to put in a letter, you know!”

“Yes, I’ve been writing her there. Wait a minute, how’d you know where she lives, Harry?” she said, eyes narrowing quickly.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting jealous, Hermione! No, she mentioned it during class last year for some reason. That reminds me; I just thought of something that I wanted to ask you, since you’re a girl and all.”

“I’m glad you noticed, Harry…I’m not sure that Ron has a clue even now that I am one. Honestly, if Ginny hadn’t invited me to visit, I don’t know that I would be able to stand being here. I kept on reminding myself just who I was waiting for, though, and it made it a lot more bearable.”

“Well, if you’re not a girl, I’ve been snogging the best-looking bloke at Hogwarts tonight!” he said cheekily, “And, I don’t intend to stop, in case you were wondering.” he said as he held her face in his hands, kissing her gently but repeatedly.

“…mmm…Harry…” she said after a pleasant interlude, reluctantly breaking contact with him. “…What is it you wanted to ask me…as a girl, you know?”

“Well, it’s about Miss Puckle, actually. I just wanted your opinion…on whether or not you think she has a crush on me. I asked Professor Lupin once, and he said something about her just being concerned about me because I was a half-blood in Slytherin. I’m not too sure he was telling me the whole truth. I’ve heard a lot of gossip about her having ‘feelings’ for me, and I just wanted to know if you knew something. I know you’re pretty good friends with her.”

“You know, Harry, I noticed that too, last year, and I heard the rumors, so I just asked her myself. She…well, she told me a secret that explained to me what is going on. Don’t worry, Harry – reading between the lines of what she said that day, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a crush on you. I think she actually does love you, to tell the truth, but she has a good reason. Before you ask, no, I’m not really too jealous under the circumstances, if you must know. But, I promised I wouldn’t say anything about her reasons. Maybe you can ask her yourself sometime – as long as I’m there, of course!”

“Of course, ‘Mione! Yeah, it would be kind of awkward to talk to her alone, wouldn’t it? Tell you what, the next time we see her alone, we’ll have to tell her about…well, us…and then we can ask her together. Now that that’s settled, though…I have a few things I’d like to go over with you…” he said with a definite gleam in his eye.

“Like what, Harry… Now what do you want to discuss?” she purred back at him, hoping that he had the same thing in mind as she did.

“Oh, I was just thinking…remember that time in the train compartment at the end of term? You know, when Ron went to the loo, and he had so much trouble opening the door when he got back? It was a good, oh, 15 minutes or so before the door finally unlocked, even with Ron doing his best Alohomora charms? I was wondering…did you have something to do with that? I mean, not that I minded, under the circumstances,” he said, turning quite red at the memory of that particular snogging session, “…but I was hoping you could teach me a few of those spells. They may come in handy for what I have planned for you this year, and I’d hate to have to rely on you for that each time. We could take turns, you know…”

…

After a while, the two teenagers (sporting two sets of very puffy lips, not to mention noticeably disheveled hair and clothing) took a break for a moment and sat on the bench beside the table, cuddling close to each other. “So, Mr. Potter, you would like to learn a few locking charms, eh? Hmmm, let me think…Yes…I may just be able to work you into my schedule this year… although, I’m sure it will be difficult, what with all the work we have to do during our fourth year.” She was trying very hard to keep a straight face while she said this, especially as she saw Harry’s expression.

“You think…you might be able to work me in, do you?” he said with mock indignity. “Hmmm… let’s just see if I can give you a better reason to be accommodating, why don’t I?” And with that, he did his best to show her some of the advantages that she could look forward to if she was more flexible with her schedule.

After a very intense (but enjoyable) negotiating session, Hermione finally capitulated. “Okay, Harry, you win!” she said, kissing him lovingly on the tip of his nose, which was one of the few areas on his face that wasn’t too flushed. She grinned wickedly as she continued. “Now that I think about it, all I have to do is to let all my other boyfriends know that my schedule is otherwise occupied on their assigned nights, and that should free up plenty of time for you…”

“Oh…you…you’re going to pay for that one, Miss Granger!” And he proceeded to exact his revenge for her little joke, until they finally noticed the lateness (or was it earliness…) of the hour. “Hermione, as much as I would love to stay out here until sunrise with you, I just don’t think that now is the best time for that. Especially if you want our relationship to be kept quiet! If Ginny, or worse, the twins caught us like this, everyone at school would know before the train cleared the platform at King’s Cross. I’d also like to get at least some sleep before we go see the World Cup match, or else I’ll be falling asleep in your lap…not that I would mind that, either, now that I think about it…”

“You’re right, Harry. Although, we’ll have to try that ‘staying out until sunrise together’ thing someday soon…that sounds very nice. Yeah, if Ginny sees me like this, she’ll probably know just what I’ve been doing all night!” she beamed happily at him. “And, I don’t quite think I’m ready to have to explain that to her…she’s still got a bit of a crush on you herself, I think. Oh, don’t look so clueless, Harry! Don’t worry, it’s not really that big of a deal – I think she was just a bit taken by the whole ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ thing, and she was hoping that you’d pay some attention to her.”

“But…I do pay attention to her! I mean I say hi to her all the time and I talk to her nicely, don’t I?”

Hermione had to giggle at his utter naiveté when it came to other girls. “Honestly, Harry…you ARE worse than Ron sometimes…No, that’s not the kind of attention she wants from you. I’d say she’s more interested in…the kind of attention you’ve been giving me all night tonight…and before you go any further, Potter, rest assured that you’d better not even THINK about that. I know quite a few hexes myself, you know! Now, let’s get back to bed…although I doubt either one of us will be sleeping too much, now will we?”

Harry groaned as he realized how right his girlfriend was while they entered the kitchen and walked slowly towards the stairs. “Guess I’ll have to hang in there until we set up our tents at the campground in the morning. But I’ll be so knackered by then, I’m sure I’ll need a long kip, eh?” He grabbed Hermione’s hand gently as they started to walk up to the room Hermione was sharing with Ginny. “You know, of course, that I’m going to want to hold your hand like this all day while we’re waiting for the match to start, but we won’t be able to if we want to keep things quiet. So, just remember what you’re feeling right now,” he squeezed her hand gently as he said this, “and be as patient as possible. After I wake up, I’m sure we’ll be able to find a little time together, if you can work me into your schedule, that is!”

“Oh, you! Just shut up and kiss me, Harry!”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said seriously as he hurried to obey. “See you later, then?” and he hugged her one last time before she quietly opened the door. From what he could hear, Ginny was not quite as loud of a snorer as his roommate was, but she was close. “See what I mean, Harry? I doubt either of us will be able to sleep…not with that racket!”

*

Harry felt as though he had barely lain down to sleep in Ron’s room (which was almost literally true) when he was being shaken by Mrs. Weasley.

“Time to go, Harry,” she whispered pleasantly, moving away to wake Ron…

*****

“Whew,” panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. “Well, we’ve made good time – we’ve got ten minutes…”

Harry, taking some deep breaths himself, looked back at Hermione as she finally crested the hill, clutching a stitch in her side. He so wanted to rush over to her to help her, but she caught his eye and shook her head slightly while smiling a little to reassure him she was fine.

“Now we just need the Portkey,” said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. It won’t be big…Come on…”

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

“Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we’ve got it!”

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

“Amos!” said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

“This is Amos Diggory, everyone,” said Mr. Weasley. “He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?”

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

“Hi,” said Cedric, looking around at them all.

Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in what would have been the final match of the year. As it was, Hufflepuff’s victory (their only one of the year) resulted in Gryffindor losing to Harry’s Slytherin team in a tiebreaker match. Fred and George had been quite cool towards Harry last term, also, until they heard about his change in house assignment from Ron.

“Long walk, Arthur?” Cedric’s father asked.

“Not too bad,” said Mr. Weasley. “We just live on the other side of the village there. You?”

“Had to get up at two, didn’t we, Ced? I tell you, I’ll be glad when he’s got his Apparition test. Still…not complaining…Quidditch World Cup - wouldn’t miss it for a sackful of Galleons – and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy…” Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. “All these yours, Arthur?”

“Oh, no, only the redheads,” said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. “This is Hermione, a friend of Ginny’s – and Harry, a friend of Ron’s -”

“Merlin’s beard,” said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. “Harry? Harry Potter?”

“Er – yeah,” said Harry.

Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.

“Ced’s talked about you, of course. Told us all about your little problem keeping on the broomstick during that one match. I’m surprised, Harry…if you can’t handle a broom that fast, you shouldn’t be riding it, now should you?”

Harry couldn’t think of any reply to this, especially considering that Slytherin had easily beaten Hufflepuff the previous year, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again at the perceived slight to their soon-to-be Seeker. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

“Harry fell off his broom, Dad,” he muttered. “I told you…it was an accident…the Dementors, you know…”

“Yes, but you’ve never fallen off your broom in all your matches, Dementors or not, now have you?” roared Amos genially, slapping his son on the back. “Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman…but one Seeker falls off his broom, one stays on, you don’t need to be a genius to tell which one’s the better flier!”

“Must be nearly time,” said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. “Do you know whether we’re waiting for any more, Amos?”

“No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn’t get tickets,” said Mr. Diggory. “There aren’t any more of us in this area, are there?”

“Not that I know of,” said Mr. Weasley. “Yes, it’s a minute of…We’d better get ready…”

He looked around at Harry and Hermione, who had moved very close to each other when Amos had been speaking unkindly about Harry’s flying skills. Hermione found herself standing directly in front of Harry, with Ron crowding in behind him.

“You just need to touch the Portkey, that’s all, a finger will do -”

With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.

They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Harry how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now…nine people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting…He chose to think of this mainly to distract him from noticing just how close he was to Hermione, and how nice it was to feel her warm back pressed up against his chest on such a cool morning. <Too bad I can’t just…>

“Three…” muttered Mr. Weasley, unknowingly interrupting Harry’s thought, one eye still on his watch, “two…one…”

It happened immediately: Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could still feel Hermione in front of him and Ron behind him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then –

His feet slammed into the ground; Ron staggered into him and he fell over on Hermione, who grunted softly as he landed on her, none too gently. The Portkey hit the ground near his head with a heavy thud.

Harry looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

“Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill,” said a voice.

Harry disentangled himself from Ron, then, as nonchalantly as possible, he reached out his hand to help Hermione up. She smiled at him quickly, but the smile turned to a glare as he was entirely too thorough in brushing the dust off her. “Watch it, Harry!” she whispered quietly. “Later…”

They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

“Morning, Basil,” said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard…

*****

(A/N – That seemed like a good stopping place for this chapter. Hope you liked the continuation of the H/Hr fluff. If anyone thinks things are going “too fast” with their relationship, considering they just had their first date just over two months before this chapter, I have two things to say in my defense. First, remember that Harry, even though he really doesn’t know it, is 19 by this time – internally, anyway; and Hermione is being encouraged in her actions by Harmony. Second, they HAVE been apart for two months, which can be an eternity in a budding romance – so, I let them have a little time to re-acquaint themselves with each other, because with one thing and another coming up this year, they’re going to be pretty busy.

By the way, in case you were wondering, I had to include the long “canon” section about the Portkey to account for a few differences in the timeline. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out the changes. The only canon section I didn’t include was after Molly woke Ron up that morning, including finding the twin’s stash of toffees. The whole section, up until they get to Stoatshead Hill, would be pretty much the same as canon.)

Chapter 30 – Before the Match

“Hello in there…are you awake?”

Hermione rolled over, stretched, and looked at her glow-in-the dark watch dial grumpily. Someone had woken her up from her nap after only a few hours. After her rendezvous with Harry the previous evening, followed by a very exhausting climb to the top of Stoatshead Hill so early that morning, she had been hoping to get a few hours rest before the beginning of the Quidditch match. After Harry and she had figured out how to set up the two borrowed tents, they had both begged off when Mr. Weasley asked them to go with Ron to get some water. Fortunately, they had a ready-made excuse, explaining that neither one of them had been able to sleep the night before because of their snoring roommates.

Arthur, who had, of course, been exposed to the “Weasley chainsaw chorus” for many years, understood immediately and made them both go to their respective tents. “It wouldn’t be good for you to fall asleep during the match, you know!” he said with a grin. Ron and Ginny were assigned to get the water and the twins and Arthur took care of gathering wood for the fire.

Hermione had been sleeping quite soundly when she heard a familiar voice waking her up. “Harmony…is that you?” She blinked rapidly at the afternoon sun coming in the tent flap, trying to recognize just who was ducking into her tent.

“Good morning, Hermione…or should I say, good afternoon! I know it’s not like you to sleep in the middle of the day! Are you not feeling well? I needed to talk to you about something that’s rather important.” Miss Puckle said as she stood up in the magically-enlarged interior.

“No…I’m fine…” Hermione said, yawning widely, “just a bit knackered, that’s all…I was up late last night …” and a silly grin crossed her face for a second, which did not go unnoticed by Harmony.

“Oh…that would explain the identity of the occupant of the other tent, I take it?” Miss Puckle winked at her younger self, who nodded happily in return. “I asked Arthur where both of you were just now, and he just pointed at the two tents. Hmmm…well, I take it your reunion was everything you hoped it would be? Based on those letters you wrote me this summer, you had very high hopes for that meeting!”

“Oh, Harmony, it was even better than I expected…we had a wonderful time getting re-acquainted, out under the stars, just the two of us…Oh, that’s right, I forgot…something happened when we were together last night. Harry and I have something we need to tell you… together.”

At Harmony’s immediately concerned look, Hermione blushed quite deeply. “Harmony! Surely you’re not thinking that we…NO! It’s nothing to do with…well, THAT! But, I promised Harry we’d talk to you about it together, so we’ll have to wait until he gets up.”

“Until who gets up?” Harry’s still-sleepy voice came through the tent flap. “Mr. Weasley just woke me up and said I had a visitor over in your tent…Oh, hello, Miss Puckle! It’s good to see you! Did Hermione already tell you we had something we needed to talk to you about?”

“Yes, she was just doing so when you came in. So, what’s the big secret? Let me guess, you two are officially a couple…” Harmony said with a smirk.

Hermione put her finger to her lips in an attempt to quiet her friend. “Harmony, please! Keep your voice down! Harry and I aren’t ready to make a public announcement just yet! Besides, you already knew that one didn’t you? No, we just wanted to tell you the strange things that have happened the last two times we’ve been alone together. Harry, why don’t you tell her about our picnic, and I’ll tell her about last night?”

Harmony held up her hand quickly. “First, why don’t I just take care of any inadvertent eavesdropping that may occur? These ARE tents, you know…” and she quickly drew her wand in the semi-darkness and cast a silencing charm around the outside of the tent and a sealing charm on the tent flap, then with another flick of her wand she lit the lamps so they could see each other better. “There, that should do it. Now, Harry, you first.”

Harry and Hermione sat down on the bed next to each other, while Harmony conjured up a comfortable chair for herself. As Harry related the events of his first date with Hermione at Hogwarts (leaving out some of the more personal details, of course…) Harmony’s eyes widened in interest as he described their experiment with the Patronus charm, especially when it came to the “full-power” attempt. “Did you just say that you were able to RIDE the Patronus…together, for ten minutes…? Well…without Professor Vector here to consult with, I’m not sure, but that may be one of the more powerful Patronus charms ever cast!”, and she began muttering spell formulas and Arithmancy calculations under her breath. After a while, she said. “Let me put it this way, Harry. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Dementors guarding Azkaban felt the effects. If any Dementors were still at Hogwarts that day, they would have probably left immediately for Azkaban as fast as they could fly…this is amazing…”

As Hermione heard this, she positively glowed. “See, Harry, I told you it would be good to talk to Harmony about this. After I saw your Patronus, I knew from my Arithmancy studies last year that it was pretty impressive, but Harmony has a lot more experience in that area, obviously.” She turned to her friend and teacher, once again slipping in to student mode. “So, what values did you initially include in your power calculations? When I tried to figure it out, the resultant outputs seemed to be ridiculously large, so I thought I must be doing something wrong. But, from what you just said, maybe I was doing it right! Wait, here’s some parchment…could you show me…”

“Hermione, just a minute.” Miss Puckle interrupted. “While I would love to sit down with you some time and go over the calculations, I’m sure Harry would be bored silly, and besides, you haven’t told me about what happened last night.” She began talking, mostly to herself, in a distracted manner. “Besides, I’d rather have Professor Vector there with us to make sure I’m doing the calculations right…whenever I had a problem with setting up a problem of this nature, I found that she had a knack when it came to explaining it to me…”

“Miss Puckle, what are you talking about?” Harry interrupted her reverie, puzzled. “When did you have Professor Vector as a teacher? She’s been at Hogwarts for many years, and you went to school in Canada, right?”

Harmony immediately realized her mistake, but recovered quickly. “No, Harry, Professor Vector and I have had many discussions in the faculty lounge, doing research in this fascinating area. Arithmancy, along with Ancient Runes, has always been one of my most favorite subjects, and naturally I have continued my studies. You honestly don’t think that you’re done studying after you leave Hogwarts, do you Harry? I enjoy studying so much I doubt I’ll ever stop.”

“Hey, Hermione, for a second there, Miss Puckle sounded just like you…” Harry said jokingly. “…I mean, you both love studying Arithmancy…and Ancient Runes, too! Are you sure you’re not her long-lost older sister or something?” As he said this, he thought he saw a fleeting look of panic cross Harmony’s face, but she quickly laughed it off.

“No, Harry, I can assure you I’m not her older sister, long-lost or otherwise. But you are right, Hermione and I have found over the years that we do share a lot of interests, so if I had a sister, I’d be honored to have one like her! Speaking of which, Hermione, you still haven’t told me your story of last night,” she said, quickly trying to divert the conversation on to less incriminating paths.

Hermione, who had been listening to the conversation very intently, seemed to be lost in thought for a second, but then she spoke up. “Hmmm…Oh…yes, well, last night, Harry and I were in the yard outside the Burrow, and a strange thing happened. First, since it was dark outside, Harry said we needed some light. As he reached for his wand, I did a “lumos” on my wand, and his wand lit up too, without me touching it. We soon found that Harry could control my wand on simple spells like that without touching it, too. I have read and heard people talking about that kind of thing happening with very close couples, usually married ones.”

Harmony interrupted, chuckling knowingly. “So, Hermione, what are you asking me about it for? Looks like you figured it out for yourself, eh?” and she winked at both of her students, causing them both to redden a little. Harry immediately reached for Hermione’s hand next to his and interlocked their fingers. They both relaxed immediately as they turned and sought each others eyes for a moment. Finally, Harry said, sounding more mature than an average 14 year old, “Yes, that’s right, Miss Puckle. As you already know, we are a couple – and we had already come to that conclusion last night when we discovered the wand connection. But, that’s not what we wanted to tell you about. Go on, Hermione.”

Hermione continued, “Well, when we were talking about what had just happened with our wands, I had mentioned to Harry that this connection was usually experienced by older couples, I heard a very strong voice in my head, that sounded just like I’d imagine Harry will sound like in a few years, saying ‘But I am older!’. Harry told me that he heard the same thing. That’s what we were curious about…why did I hear what was going on in his mind?”

Harry spoke up at this. “The funny thing is, Miss Puckle, I don’t think it was my voice I was hearing! Like Hermione said, it sounded like maybe my older brother or something. I’m only 14, you know, and my voice hasn’t finished changing yet…” he said as his voice broke in the middle of his sentence. He cleared his throat and continued. “See what I mean? The voice I heard was definitely older, much more…confident sounding, I guess.”

It was Harmony’s turn once again to appear lost in thought. “That is very interesting, you two.” she said thoughtfully, “Let me ask – has anything like this happened before?”

Hermione shook her head, but Harry paused before he answered. “Well, actually…” he started, and Hermione looked quickly at him. “What, Harry? You didn’t tell me about anything else! Have you been hearing voices before last night? Who was it?” Her voice was very intense by the time she was done.

“Steady on, Hermione!” he said, “It wasn’t anything to worry about…and I did mention it to you, sort of. Let me finish, please…” and he looked at her firmly while still holding her hand. She looked back sheepishly, and let him continue. “Well, all day yesterday, after I showed up at the Burrow and saw you there, I so wanted to…well, say hello to you privately. But, with all the goings and comings during the day, we didn’t have any time alone all afternoon. Each time I would look over at you, I thought I heard your voice in my head telling me to be patient.” Hermione immediately looked as if she were going to burst at this, but she held her tongue. “And then, after everyone went to bed last night, I was laying there trying to sleep with Ron’s snoring making it rather pointless, when I just KNEW that you were waiting for me downstairs. In fact, I could almost see you in my mind. So, I wasn’t surprised at all to see you sitting there in the kitchen.”

Harmony spoke to Hermione directly. “From your reaction to Harry’s revelation just now, I think you may have something to add?”

“Well, not that it should be much of a surprise, but each time Harry looked at me, I so wanted to ‘say hello’ to him privately, so I kept on telling myself to be patient. It got to be almost a mantra…I was saying in my mind ‘Be patient…be patient…’ over and over again. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep last night without seeing you, so I had slipped out from Ginny’s room as soon as she was snoring and sat at the table. I kept on picturing you while I was sitting there in the dark, and I was really hoping you’d think about me and come downstairs. I was just about ready to go back upstairs to knock on Ron’s door, when I…well, felt you coming downstairs. Remember what I said, Harry?”

“As I recall, you said something like ‘took you long enough, Potter…” but after that, neither one of us was saying much, now were we?”, and they shared a private smile at the memories of the night before.

“Oh, stop it, you two lovebirds…” Harmony faked being sick to her stomach. “At least wait until I get out of here! With me being a single witch and all, it’s sometimes hard to be reminded of certain…well, things like that,” but her eyes were twinkling with joy as she said it.

“Sorry, Harmony, we’re still getting used to this couple idea and we didn’t want to upset you that way!” Hermione apologized quickly. “That reminds me, Harry. We need to watch our behavior for another reason. We’re going to have to be very careful in public, especially tonight at the Quidditch match, or else people are going to notice something. Any ideas?”

“Well, as long as we get to snog each other senseless every now and then in private, I’ll live with it, I suppose,” he said with a sly grin. “But, at the Quidditch World Cup tonight, why don’t we just keep Ron and Ginny around all the time? That should put a damper on things, and keep us distracted a little, besides. But, after it gets dark, I’m sure we can arrange another late night meeting, right?” Harry said expectantly.

“Yes, Harry, in fact I was planning on it already…”she smiled lovingly at her boyfriend. “But, back to the subject. Harmony, is this ‘voices in our heads’ thing something we should be concerned about?”

After a moment’s pause, Harmony answered. “Well, I doubt it very much, but I would like to discuss your experiences with the Headmaster before I say anything else…with your permission, of course.” They immediately nodded their assent. “He has already owled me to meet with him in London next week before the start of term this year. And, by the way, you really don’t have to worry about being affectionate around me. I was just teasing you a little. As long as you behave yourself, you have my permission to ‘greet’ each other appropriately, and hold hands like you are doing now. If you get too carried away though, I’ll be sure and let you know! But, look at the time – I’m sure the Weasley’s are wondering what is keeping us so long in here. I only told Arthur I needed to talk to the two of you for a moment. Better remove the privacy charms! Hermione, could you take care of the lights?”

Both females took out their wands and performed the necessary charms, and Harry’s eyes were drawn to how similar the two wands looked. “Just a minute, you two! Remember, Miss Puckle, at the beginning of the year last year I asked you about your wand matching Hermione’s? I’ve never seen them this close to each other. They’re both…vine wood, right? That’s pretty rare!”

“Yes, and both of them have a dragon heartstring core, Harry”, Harmony said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And lots of wizards and witches from around the world have that kind of a core. Yes, our wands are similar, that’s true, but Hermione and I did compare them last year soon after you mentioned it to me, because I hadn’t really thought about it until then. Now look, here…and here…the pattern of the vines on the shaft is quite different, and her wand is much lighter in color, too.”

Harry’s observant seeker eyes weren’t completely convinced. “But, they are exactly the same length, aren’t they? And, the pattern isn’t all that different, it’s almost as if the vines and leaves there were…well, shifted a little…and…”

Before he could examine them any closer, Harmony was quite relieved to hear Arthur yell from outside the tent. “You lot about done with your talk? We need to start for the stadium in a little while, you know. It’s quite a walk and we don’t want to miss anything. Besides, you probably need to buy a few things before we go!”

“You heard him, Harry, Hermione…go, find Ron and buy some souvenirs. I’ll see you later – I’m sitting in the general admission seats, you know. I surely can’t afford a Top Box seat like you have on an Assistant Professor’s pay!” Harmony said quickly, herding them outside in an attempt to get their minds off of the wands. Before they left, she touched Hermione on the shoulder for a minute and whispered in her ear. “Since we didn’t have a chance just now, I still need to talk to you alone, and then Harry. Trust me, it’s very important. See me after the match before you and Harry go off together.”

*****

“Been saving my pocket money all summer for this, “Ron told Harry as they and Hermione strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette in support of the Irish team, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron’s hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

“Now, who did you say that was, Ron? From that scarlet uniform he’s wearing, I’d say he’s on the Bulgarian team, and I thought we were all supposed to be supporting Ireland!”

“Krum!” said Ron, “Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!”

“He looks really grumpy,” said Hermione to the two boys, looking closely at the magic figure.

“’Really grumpy’?” Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. “Who cares what he looks like? He’s unbelievable. He’s really young, too. Only just eighteen or something. He’s a genius, you wait until tonight, you’ll see. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you, Harry? Harry?…Oi! Earth to Harry!”

Harry, however, was quite preoccupied. As soon as he saw Krum’s figure in Ron’s hand, he had another memory flash. He thought he saw Viktor Krum, dressed in formal robes…at what looked like some kind of a party…with…

Hermione’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Something wrong, Harry? For a second there, you looked like you had seen a ghost or something. And, Nearly-Headless Nick isn’t anywhere around!” she said, trying to ease the tension that was evident in Harry’s face.

Harry shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs out of his mind, and smiled weakly as he looked at Hermione, as if he hadn’t seen her before. “Oh…sorry, were you saying something, Ron?”

“Yeah, mate, I was just trying to explain to Hermione about Viktor Krum, and I asked if you’ve heard of him before. Surely even the Slytherins talked about the World Cup standings last season! He almost single-handedly got the Bulgarians to the Cup this year, you know. It was in all the wizarding newspapers.”

“Now that you mention it, Ron, his name does sound familiar, and…weird, now that I look at him, it’s almost like I’ve met him before.” In his mind, he could almost hear Viktor’s heavily accented voice, congratulating him for flying so well…but that was…

“… mental, Harry!” Ron interrupted him again. “He’s never been off the continent until this match. Didn’t you read his interview in the Daily Prophet last week?”

“Well, no, actually. Whenever he could this summer, Uncle Vernon destroyed it when the owl would deliver my copy. I stopped subscribing because he threatened to kill the next owl that showed up with a paper on his leg…besides Hedwig, you know. If he ever so much as touches her, I’m sure I’ll be in Azkaban myself for violation of a number of Wizarding laws,” he said with a grim determination.

“Honestly, Harry! Promise me you’re not serious…” Hermione sounded quite scared as she looked into his eyes and saw that he was. “Please, Harry, don’t even joke about that…”

Harry’s green eyes seemed to flash for a second, and then he relaxed. “Sorry, Hermione. I’ll be fine.” He looked around as if to get his bearings, and noticed a cart next to them. “Wow, look at these!” said Harry, picking up what looked like a pair of brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

*******

“Everyone ready?” Ludo Bagman said as he charged into the Top Box, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. “Minister, ready to go?”

“Ready when you are, Ludo” said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said “Sonorus!” and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

“Ladies and gentlemen…welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans – A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce….the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

“I wonder what they’ve brought,” said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. “Aaah!” He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. “Veela!”

“What are veel - ?”

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry’s question was answered for him. Veela were women. <Not bad looking, I suppose> Harry thought to himself, but then he looked at Hermione who was staring intently at the field while seated next to him. <But not as pretty as her…they don’t even look human, now that I look closer.> As the music started, he looked back at the veela who were now dancing on the field, moving faster and faster with the music. Both he and Arthur continued to sit there, watching the show and enjoying it, while slightly amused at the antics of a lot of the males (single and otherwise) in the stadium. Neither one of them was at all interested in joining the others in making a fool out of themselves.

Finally, the music stopped. Harry looked up in amazement at Ron, who was standing on the wall of the box, frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard. “Ron, what are you doing?” he said to his red-headed friend, pulling him back into his seat. “Honestly!” he said, catching Hermione’s eye and winking at her. She smiled back at him, and surreptitiously squeezed his hand discreetly while the crowd roared its anger at the veelas having stopped their dancing.

Ron, meanwhile, was absent-mindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

“You’ll be wanting that,” he said, “once Ireland have had their say.”

“Huh?” said Ron, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

“And now,” roared Ludo Bagman’s voice, “kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!”

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium…

***

(A/N – Well, the rest of the chapter is pretty well the same as canon. Obviously, there is a long section from GOF that I didn’t bother to include, from when Harry bought the Omnioculars until when Bagman came into the box. All of that, including the Winky scene and the Malfoy scene in the Top Box, happened the same way. By the way, I don’t know if my idea of what is taught in Arithmancy is quite canonical. HP-Lexicon.org indicates Arithmancy has more to do with numerology and predictions, but I prefer the concept of it being more the “math behind the spells…” as I have indicated here. Who knows, maybe it’s both – or neither, for that matter.)

Chapter 31 – Repercussions

(A/N – Again, this chapter will be more alternate scenes than rewrites of canon sections. I originally intended to start it near the end of the match, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked this starting point, which would fit right at the beginning of Chapter Nine – The Dark Mark…yes, the chapter that generated the following quote from JKR that I found on HP-Lexicon.org: “The worst ever [rewriting] was thirteen different versions of one chapter (chapter nine in Goblet of Fire). I hated that chapter so much; at one point, I thought of missing it out altogether and just putting in a page saying 'Chapter Nine was too difficult' and going straight to Chapter Ten." (CR) (emphasis added). Yeah…now that I have been writing for a while, I am starting to relate. Some chapters are just stinkers to write! Hope this one isn’t a stinker to read!

By the way, I do have to respond to one of my reviews for the last chapter which honestly had me worried for a while. The review said that since Harry wasn’t affected by the veelas, “...(t)his means that Barty Crouch Junior has no chance to steal Harry's wand, ergo no dark mark and Winky probably won't be dismissed by Barty Crouch Senior. Does this mean no SPEW either? Anyway quite a major time-line change…” I almost panicked for a minute, but I grabbed my copy of GOF to verify a certain scene, and I can assure you that there is no indication in canon that Harry lost his wand because he was distracted by the veelas. Read carefully what Barty Jr. said when he was captured about how he got the wand! But, thanks, jatkinson, for making me check a few facts again!)

As they walked slowly back to the campsite, trying to avoid being crushed by the merry-makers streaming back from the stadium, both Harry and Hermione were experiencing a wide range of emotions. They were excited and surprised at how quickly the match had ended, all things considered; impressed by the courage and skill that was shown by players on both teams, but especially Viktor Krum; and happy to have been able to witness such an important event. But, on a more personal note, as the two began to consider just how much time the quick end to the match was going to free up for their “evening plans,” they began to get excited for a different reason. The “secret couple” were finding it very hard to keep from holding hands as they walked in such a public venue, especially as they were repeatedly jostled and pressed into each other by the crowd. Harry found himself instinctively shielding Hermione’s body from the throng, keeping the tightly-packed crowd at bay as best as he could. With his seeker reflexes, he was able to successfully intercept a “grope” of his girlfriend by a very embarrassed-looking older wizard who had tripped over a rock in the trail and had apparently reached out to steady himself. After Harry helped the man to his feet and dusted him off, Hermione smiled gratefully at her rescuer. “Thanks, Harry…I’d rather not get introduced to a stranger in quite that way! Uh, oh! It looks like his wife didn’t think it was an accident!” she chuckled as they saw and heard the man being berated by his spouse as they drifted away from the pair. <Besides, there’s only one wizard I want that close to me…>

“Oi, Harry! Hermione, there you are!” Harmony’s yell interrupted her before she could finish her thought. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Arthur said you were back here somewhere. Let’s get out of this pack for a minute,” and she pulled the two of them off to the side of the path from the stadium. When they got far enough away from the din of the masses that they could, Miss Puckle smiled at them and said, “How did you like the match, you two? Quite exciting, eh? So, Hermione, what did you think of Viktor Krum?”

“Well, I don’t know, really. I did think he was very brave doing that last maneuver, though…what did you call it, Harry?”

“Oh, the Wronski Feint, you mean?” he said as he smiled back at her. “Yeah, that was brilliant! I can’t wait to get up on my Firebolt and try it!”

She frowned slightly back at him as she thought of what had happened to him the previous year. “Just be careful, Harry! I don’t want to have to visit you in the Hospital Wing again like last year! Promise me you’ll only practice it when I’m flying with you so I can keep an eye on you, okay?”

“But Hermione, I didn’t think you…well, enjoyed flying all that much!” As soon as he said this, he saw from the fire in her eyes that he had made a mistake. “Erm…well, I do remember your first flying lesson, and…”

“Potter, you’d better quit while you’re behind!” Harmony said with a chuckle. “Hermione performs quite well when she rides a broom. She just doesn’t spend as much time on one as you do, you know. She did pass her individual flying test during first year, or didn’t you know that part of the story? That broom she tried to ride that first day was found to have been inadvertently damaged during a previous class, wasn’t it? Madame Hooch had it destroyed because she felt it was no longer safe for beginning students to use.”

“Yes, the next broom I tried worked much better. I can fly just fine, Harry!” she said with a slightly put-out expression. Then she realized something wasn’t right. “But, how did you know about that, Harmony?” Hermione asked quickly. “Madam Hooch told me that in private during our Gryffindors-only lesson the next day. She was trying to encourage me so I wouldn’t give up, and I didn’t!

<Uh, oh…think fast, Granger> Harmony recovered quickly. “Remember, dear, I am responsible for keeping an eye on all the first-year Muggle-born students, and Madam Hooch would have included that as part of her regular report to me your first year.” <Phew…I’m going to HAVE to be more careful! Albus isn’t going to be happy if I let the cat out of the bag now!>

Hermione nodded, apparently accepting the logical explanation from her teacher and friend. “Now, what was it you wanted to talk to us about, Harmony? It sounded important.” she said with a hint of concern.

“Yes, it is, but don’t worry, it’s not dangerous. Harry, why don’t you wait over by that tree for a minute? I need to talk to Hermione first, and then you.” Harry followed Miss Puckle’s instructions and tried to look inconspicuous as thousands of Quidditch fans continued to stream past. One wizard with a strong accent yelled over at him in passing, “ ’Ang on, mate, tha’s no place to go for a jimmy, right in front of us and all! Don’ you know nuffink? Tha’s disgusting, that is!”

Meanwhile, Harmony had found a semi-secluded spot and cast a quick silencing charm around them. “Since we’re in the open, this charm won’t last too long, but it should serve its purpose. Hermione, I have a message for you from the Headmaster. He sent it to me when he asked me to meet him in London next week. Apparently, Miss Granger, you didn’t quite follow the rules you agreed to when you borrowed his time-turner last year. Remember, you were supposed to limit your usage to only allow you to attend and study for your two additional classes last year – up to a limit of about 20 hours a week, am I correct?” Hermione nodded slowly in agreement, immediately looking guilty as she did so. “According to what Albus learned after examining that device more closely this summer, you used it MUCH more than that, now didn’t you! Why, Hermione? Did you really need to spend that much time doing every POSSIBLE Muggle Studies extra-credit assignment? Was getting a three-hundred and twenty percent score really necessary?”

Hermione grimaced, not saying a word but beginning to look very nervous as she remembered the sanctions that she had agreed to when she took possession of the time-turner.

At her worried look, Harmony moved to reassure her. “Oh, don’t worry, my dear. Albus would never report you to the Ministry under the circumstances. But, he and I are very concerned about one thing – the after-effects on your body. He would like you to report to Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible after you arrive at Hogwarts to undergo a complete physical and magical powers evaluation. After the welcoming feast and announcements are over, you need to report to the hospital wing. Be prepared to spend the night there. Your housemates will be given a reasonable explanation for your absence.”

Harry, who was getting quite tired of the whole “leaning against a tree” act he had been trying to pull off, was more interested in keeping an eye on his girlfriend. Even though he couldn’t hear what Miss Puckle was telling her, he could see as Hermione’s expression fell the more they talked that she was not happy with what she was hearing. Finally, he could stand it no longer, and walked towards the two just as Miss Puckle cancelled the silencing charm.

“Oh, good timing, Mr. Potter!” she said, smiling at him. “Now, before you say anything, don’t worry – I’ve just given Hermione a bit of a dressing-down for something she did that she knew she shouldn't. Please, Harry, don’t pester us about it, either. I’m sure she’ll fill you in on the details AFTER (and she looked directly at Hermione as she emphasized this) she takes care of something her first evening back. Now, however, it’s her turn to go get acquainted with that tree whilst you and I discuss a few things.”

Hermione, still looking quite downcast, walked slowly towards the tree while Harmony re-established the private zone around Harry and herself. “First things first. What’s wrong with Hermione, Miss Puckle?” Harry said forcefully. “I am finding I don’t like being kept in the dark about things, especially if they concern her! And you better not give me any excuses about it being none of my business, or that I’m too young to worry about things, or that kind of rot!” When he finished speaking, she noticed that his fists were clenched tightly and he seemed quite agitated.

When she saw Harry’s strong reaction, Harmony indulged herself in a small memory flashback of her own. It involved an older version of Harry, at a place that the Harry standing in front of him didn’t know about … yet. <BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT’S BEEN HAPPENING?>.

She started to answer him much like she did on that occasion. “Harry, I do want to tell you… I really do…but there won’t be much to tell for a while. As soon as I can, I promise Hermione and I will fill you in...on everything.” And then she did something that she had scrupulously tried to avoid doing for nearly four years now. Miss Puckle gently put her hands on each side of Harry’s face, turned his head so she had his full attention, and looked deeply in his beautiful green eyes. “Harry, all I ask is that you trust me…trust US…and things will work out for the best.” At the same time, (again for the first time in years) she re-established her bonding link with him in her mind just long enough to calm him, but hopefully not long enough for him to get suspicious or to cause her to want to do something to him that would most assuredly get her sacked.

At this, he relaxed immediately. “Sss…sure, Miss Puckle. Of course I trust you…I don’t really know why, but I do…almost as much as I trust Hermione.”

At this, Harmony’s heart seemed to flutter in her chest. <Better not do that again…wouldn’t look good if my knees gave out on me right now! It’s been so long since I’ve felt…>

Harry snapped her out of her pleasant thoughts. “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about? Before you start, though, I want you to know that if it involves Hermione’s health and well-being in any way, I will tell her about it immediately unless you can explain to me why I shouldn’t!”

By this time she had taken a deep breath to steady herself, and “Slow down, Harry…I am just passing on a few messages from the Headmaster, some of which do involve Hermione, actually. First, he wanted to again send his congratulations about your new relationship, but he wants to admonish you to exercise self-control when you are around her. In fact, he would like you to meet with him after the welcoming feast to discuss a few related personal matters. He agrees that you should keep things quiet about the two of you, especially at school. He also asked me to inform you that your new housing arrangements in Gryffindor tower have been completed, and you will be in the same room as Mr. Weasley, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.”

Harry nodded in recognition, having been in classes with all of them over the years. However, when he heard Neville’s name, he gasped audibly. He had a strange feeling of panic and fear come over him. He thought he saw Neville with an obviously broken and bloody nose, holding what looked like Hermione’s wand, shouting “STUBEFY!”…but then it was gone.

Harmony, still feeling the residual effects of her earlier link with Harry, detected his panic immediately and deduced what must have just happened. “Is there something wrong, Harry? Do you foresee a problem sharing a room with Mr. Longbottom, or any of the other boys, for that matter?”

“No, of course not…they all seem to be fine blokes, from what I know, and Ron and I get along already. I’m pretty sure that Seamus doesn’t care too much for me, but I hope that was based on my association with Slytherin. But, compared to the people I’ve had to put up with the past few years, it’ll be a piece of cake!”

“I do hope you’re right!” she said with worry in her voice. “Obviously, this switching of houses mid-stream has never been done before, so I want to warn you to be careful. It may take a while for your fellow fourth-year students, in all the houses, for that matter, to get used to the new situation. Be prepared to face more than your normal allotment of gossip this year, Harry!”

“Yeah, I’m sure that the Slytherins are going to be even more insufferable this year when the word’s out…but why would the other houses care?” he said with a puzzled look on his face.

“Well, I want to be wrong about my concerns, but all I’ll say is watch your back, Harry… wherever you go.”

“I already do – that’s the only way I survived my former house, you know!” he said with a rueful expression on his face, remembering both the hexes he had dodged or blocked (and, painfully, the ones he didn’t) over the years. “Is that all?”

“Yes, Harry, that’s all. Remember, when everyone’s dismissed after the announcements, please go see Dumbledore at the head table. He’ll take it from there. Now, it’s time for you to get back to the campground. I’m sure the Weasley’s are wondering where you two got off too, so I’d better escort you back to the tents to help quell their suspicions. And, Harry, a word to the wise…please don’t go wandering off alone with Hermione. I have a strange feeling that it would be best if you put off your plans for a rendezvous. Stay near the camp, okay?”

Harry was quite disappointed since he had been anticipating the evening’s activities ever since he heard about Hermione’s plans, but he nodded his head. “Do me a favor, if you haven’t already…could you tell her the same thing? I sure wouldn’t want her to think I wasn’t interested in her anymore or something…”

“Sure, Harry, I’d be glad to let her know. But, between you and me, let’s just say I don’t think you have to worry about her losing interest in you any time soon!” she said with a sly wink which caused him to blush slightly.

“Thanks, Miss Puckle! Ah!, here she is now!” he smiled as he saw Hermione walk directly towards him with a determined look on her face as she saw him blushing.

She whirled on her teacher. “All right, you two, you’ve been talking in secret long enough…what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Hermione. I was just passing on a few messages to Harry from the Headmaster related to this next year. Why don’t we start heading back to camp? Looks like the crowd has thinned out considerably while we’ve been talking. Harry, you go on ahead for a second, we’ll catch up after I have a quick word with Hermione.”

When they finally reached the tents, they found that nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. Miss Puckle begged off, saying she needed to get back to her own tent, and waved good-bye to Harry and Hermione. “Remember, stay close to your tents tonight and don’t wander off! You’ll have other opportunities to be alone!”

*********

The following Sunday morning, Miss Puckle sat at a table in the Leaky Cauldron watching the rain pour down in sheets while waiting to meet with her friend and employer. She had already finished all of her packing in preparation for her return to the castle the next morning on the Hogwarts Express, so she had arrived early. Tom the Bartender greeted her warmly, and told everyone in earshot how generous she was. “Aye, she’s the one I’ve told you all about…paid me a whole galleon just to carry her bags, right Miss Puckle? How come the rest of you lot never give me a tip like that, eh? Especially in weather like this!”

“Hello, Harmony”, Albus’s kind voice interrupted the bartender’s story and the unhappy stares of the patrons in the pub. “I apologize if I’ve kept you waiting too long. I was unavoidably detained at the Ministry. But, since the subject of that meeting is directly relevant to this one, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Actually, I’ve only been here for a few minutes myself,” she said while she stood and warmly shook his hand. Quietly, she added in an aside to Albus, “I would have preferred to not be the subject of so much attention from everyone else since I’ve been here, thanks to Tom. I don’t see how Harry can stand it – he draws this kind of attention wherever he goes.”

As they moved towards a reserved private meeting room in the back of the pub, Albus said, sadly, “I’m sure he’d prefer not to be a ‘marked man’ so to speak. Especially considering the circumstances of how he received that mark. Which, indirectly, leads me to the news I received today at the ministry. I think you may already know something about this, Harmony, but a little over a week ago, the body of a Muggle named Frank Bryce was found at an old mansion in Little Hangleton. He had died, according to the Muggle doctors, of “mysterious causes”, which they have ended up explaining away as being caused by his age and disabilities. However, my sources in the ministry indicate that he was struck by a killing curse. We have Aurors monitoring that particular house regularly, and… Ah…I see that you do remember something about this incident!”

“Yes, unfortunately. I do remember his name. I also know just where he was found, and a little of his history. But, worst of all, I know what this incident leads to.”

“Actually, Miss Puckle, I’m not sure that you do. And that, my dear, is what I needed to talk to you about. Let me be direct with you. Harmony, why are you changing the timeline so much?”

Harmony was completely caught off guard at the strong accusation. “B...but sir…what do you mean? You know that I have been very careful not to do anything that would endanger our goals here! Remember, both Harry’s and my future happiness, not to mention my very existence, probably, is based on me not making things worse!”

“Then, I must insist that you stop meddling in Mr. Potter’s personal relationship with your younger self. While I think I understand your motivation for pushing things in that direction, especially considering that they have been in different houses up until now, I fear that you have encouraged them too much.”

Harmony was still somewhat defiant as she responded. “But sir, you must admit, I have a rather unique and personal view when it comes to ‘my’ feelings this coming year, not to mention the feelings of others that will be involved with Harry this year. I also know what is coming soon, so I wanted to make sure that both Harry and Hermione survive this year alive and reasonably well. You can’t imagine what is coming up as a result of the Triwizard Tournament this year. I am very concerned that his transition into Gryffindor will not be as smooth as we all would hope, and he is going to need some personal support from Hermione as a result!”

Albus answered somewhat sympathetically. “Be that as it may, Harmony, while you have had the best of intentions with your actions, I fear that you have put Harry, you, and your younger version in great danger by what you have done this past year. Since you already know that Tom Riddle has returned to this country with the assistance of Peter Pettigrew, I will dispense with that part of the story. However, you may not be aware of what we discovered when we investigated the mansion where Mr. Bryce’s body was found. A disguised Auror team uncovered some written evidence in the room where the murder occurred that Tom has somehow received detailed information from your time concerning the changes that should have occurred by now in this version of events. Since he is not seeing them happening, he has begun to investigate what has caused the difference. Knowing Tom’s analytical skills as well as I do, I am sure that it won’t take him long to realize that a Muggle-born witch named Hermione Granger should have died in a tragic accident during her first year, and Harry should still be happily ensconced in Slytherin House, under the direct tutelage and watchful eyes of both Lucius and Draco Malfoy. It won’t take a wizard as intelligent as Tom long to realize that the other major anomaly in the timeline, namely a young assistant professor of Charms that should not be at Hogwarts, may somehow be involved. Remember, Peter saw you regularly at Hogwarts while in disguise as Wormtail, and it is only a matter of time before he mentions you to his master and the pieces will begin to fit together in his mind. For all we know, he’s already figured some of it out. Also, now that your efforts have resulted in a significant acceleration of Harry’s mental connection to Miss Granger before it was supposed to happen, Tom will soon realize how this closeness may be used as a way to influence Harry. Even though I know he is beginning to remember many things from before, he is still in many ways a maturing, struggling, 14-year old wizard who may not always choose the right path, especially if Hermione’s welfare is at stake.”

Harmony sat back, stunned, as she began to digest this information. Finally, she said, with tears rapidly forming in her eyes, “Oh, Albus! What have I done? Why did I interfere?” and she lay her head down on the table and sobbed..

After a moment, Albus patted her gently on the shoulder. “Hermione, I’m sorry that you had to hear this, but you need to be made aware of the repercussions of your actions. I promise, though, that I will do all I can to help set things back on track again. But, to do this, I will have to violate one of my own rules and ask you to share with me ALL of your memories from this year in your timeline. Under the circumstances, I MUST know as many details as you can give me so we can plan a strategy to recover. Anything you leave out may put our plans at risk, so I must ask you to agree to a very unpleasant procedure. I have obtained some Veritaserum from Professor Snape’s stores, and as you can see I have brought my Pensieve. Do you understand what I have in mind?”

“You…you mean to interrogate me…just like you did to Bellatrix during her trial.”

“Yes…unfortunately, you are correct. I assume my older self must have told you about that before you came here, eh? There will be one important difference, though. Bella was quite the unwilling participant, and I assume you will be a lot more cooperative under the circumstances. This should make the procedure less physically painful, I admit, although the mental impact is bad enough. If it would make you feel more comfortable, Minerva can join us to make sure my questioning is above-board and proper.”

“Not that I am worried about that, sir, but I think it would be a good idea to have Minerva there anyway. Her analytical skills may be useful to you as you work on a solution to the problems I have caused…Oh, how could I have been so stupid!” Hermione said sadly, her eyes glistening with tears. “In my zeal to help Harry and my younger self get together without going through all the problems we went through in my time, I have put all of us at risk. I promise, sir, I will do all I can to help restore things the way they should be. When and where do you want to perform the procedure?”

“The sooner, the better, I suppose, and if we can trouble Tom for the use of this room the rest of the day, here is as good as any place. I’ll contact Minerva via the Floo network and as soon as she can get here, we’ll begin.”

(A/N – The canon break in this chapter, marked with the *********, actually covers nearly forty pages of text in the US edition, from the bottom of page 117 to near the end of Chapter 10. In this story, then, the Dark Mark incident, including meeting with Malfoy, etc. happened just as in canon, along with all the other scenes when they return to the Burrow in the morning.

By the way, if you are wondering where the expression “go for a jimmy” came from, I found the following reference on BBC America’s British-American Dictionary : jimmy, noun, Jimmy Riddle=piddle, pee, urination. Cockney Rhyming Slang. ('Ang on, I need to go for a jimmy.)

Chapter 32 – A Dark and Stormy Night

(A/N – Note: Please remember when you read this first part, that “Harmony” has given her willing consent to the interrogation process. And, I apologize for the chapter title in advance!)

“Oh, Albus…what are we going to do now? The Dark Mark appears for the first time in so many years, and now this!” McGonagall’s normally strong voice was subdued and full of anguish for what she and the Headmaster had just discovered while interrogating Harmony with Veritaserum. “Not Cedric…Mr. Diggory’s always been such a fine student. We were already considering him as a possible Head Boy candidate…for next year. And, poor Alastor, too…how awful for him! At least we know that he recovered, and we know who was responsible for the Dark Mark. Who would suspect that Barty Crouch Jr. is actually alive?”

“Yes, Minerva, we have seen and heard many terrible things,” he said sadly as he helped Harmony unsteadily to her feet, her eyes shut tightly, and wincing with each word he spoke. “Before we discuss them, however, we need to attend to Miss Puckle’s needs. The Veritaserum has already left her system, but I fear that she will have a few unavoidable side effects this evening. Having all your memories extracted and reviewed in a Pensieve that quickly can cause a very painful headache and sensitivity to light and sound. She should be physically recovered before she boards the Hogwarts Express in the morning, though. After we get her settled in her room we can talk.”

When they got her seated in a comfortable chair in her darkened room upstairs, Albus and Minerva turned to leave. “W…wait, Albus, Minerva”, Harmony croaked weakly, pain evident in her voice. “Did…that help? Were you able… to find out some way to put things back right this year? Will Harry be…okay? Please tell me… the damage I have done to Harry is reversible!” She choked back a sob as she said this last.

“Hush now, my dear.” Minerva turned in the doorway and said soothingly. “Albus and I will do our best to come up with a solution. Don’t blame yourself any more. Remember, we have been aware of your actions and your ‘other agenda’ for years now and did nothing to stop you, so we share fully in the responsibility. All along, we both knew that you would be motivated to do what you did. Unfortunately, none of us could have imagined how serious the consequences were, or else we would have warned you sooner. Be that as it may, now we have to consider our options carefully. Don’t lose hope now! Besides, in the long run, you may have been right in what you did.”

Dumbledore agreed. “Yes, Harmony, we will do our best. We understand what is at stake here, and with your unselfish willingness to submit yourself to that painful, invasive interrogation, I hope that we have a definite advantage over Tom. We now know more about what we need to restore. You, I feel, will be the key to our success. You should rest more peacefully if you contemplate that happy thought!” he said before he closed the door and sealed it with a privacy charm.

As they walked down the stairs, Minerva sounded worried. “Albus, do you really feel that way, or were you just trying to cheer her up? Honestly, I’m at a loss to what we can do. Perhaps after we return to Hogwarts this evening I’ll be able to think more clearly.”

“Minerva, you should know by now that I would never say something ‘just to cheer her up’ I believe what I told her,” he said simply. But, I agree, we should discuss this in a more private setting,” he said as they reached the main room of the pub, which was quite crowded with all the wizards and witches trying to take shelter from the heavy rain. “Shall we be off, then?” he said as he escorted her to the fireplace and the Floo Network. “We have much to do before the students arrive tomorrow. Of course, the most pressing thing now is what to do about Alastor!”

*

There was a definite end-of-the holidays gloom in the air when Harry awoke at the Burrow the next morning. Between the fear and loathing associated with seeing the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup and the uncooperative weather, Harry had been unable to spend much time alone with Hermione since they returned to the Burrow. The few times he was near her, she seemed preoccupied and somewhat worried. Whenever he asked why, she refused to say anything about it except to ask him to wait until they got back to school and then she would have more to say. He also was concerned about what exactly the Headmaster wanted to talk to him about in private. He knew that it had something to do with his developing relationship with Hermione. <I just hope he’s not wanting to talk about…well, THAT… with me. I can’t imagine Dumbledore giving me the old ‘facts of life’ talk!> he thought to himself as he got out of bed and got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. <Or, worse, he’s going to tell me to break it off with her or something. I don’t want to even think about it!>

After an uncomfortable journey to King’s Cross in the rain, the severely scratched trio finally found themselves alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, the very same compartment that they had been in on the way from school the previous term. When Ron left to see if he could find Seamus and Dean, Harry winked at Hermione and reminded her of that fact expectantly as he started to close the blinds.

“Oh, Harry…please don’t start,” she said testily. “I’m feeling pretty miserable right now. That rain soaked me through to my skin and thanks to Fred’s fireworks scaring Crookshanks my arms and legs look like I’ve been climbing through a bramble bush. You’re in no better shape, to tell you the truth. Come on, Harry…don’t look so sad! I’m really not upset with you, you know. I’m just worried about something that Harmony told me…that night, and until I get that sorted out, I’m going to be a bit distracted. Can you forgive me?” she said with a weak smile. “I’d ask for a raincheck, but rain is the last thing I want to think of right now.”

Harry sighed, “Of course, Hermione…but I am curious. This isn’t because we…well, we didn’t have a chance to get together that night, is it? I asked Miss Puckle to explain it to you …is that why you’re feeling this way?”

“No, Harry, of course not! I understood why we had to change our plans that night. Harmony asked me to stay close to the camp also. You were so sweet to think of my feelings right then. Harmony told me about that, too.” She smiled at him warmly. “Don’t worry, Potter, you’re not going to chase me away that easily! I’m just worried about what she said to me earlier, you know, when you were paying so much attention to that tree?” she said with a smirk. “But, until we get…”

“…back to school, I know, Hermione” he finished with a grin. “So, what would you like to do instead? Oh, here’s the lunch trolley…how about some Cauldron Cakes? Then, I’ve got to go visit the loo!”

****

As the soaking wet trio entered the Great Hall after slipping and sliding across the entrance hall, the Headmaster was waiting. He motioned Harry aside while Ron and Hermione continued on to sit at the Gryffindor table. “Mr. Potter, to avoid unnecessary speculation among the student body, why don’t you come sit in Professor McGonagall’s chair at the head table for a minute instead of joining your new House immediately. There’s no time like the present to announce the change, then we can commence with the Sorting.”

“Thank you, sir. I was hoping you would make the announcement soon. I’d rather not have to sit at the Slytherin table at all tonight, to be honest.”

Very few students had even noticed that Harry was sitting at the head table until they heard Dumbledore call them to order. “May I have your attention, please? Before we get started with the Sorting on this very rainy evening, I have an unusual announcement to make. Four years ago at this very Welcoming Feast, Mr. Harry Potter was Sorted into the noble house of Slytherin.” At this, scattered boos and catcalls were heard from three of the four house tables.

“Quiet, please.” Albus continued. “As I was saying, Mr. Potter joined the ranks of the silver and green on that evening. However, evidence has been brought to light since then indicating that the Sorting Hat was interfered with by an outside force that evening. After discussing this matter with Mr. Potter at the end of last term, and verifying this with the Sorting Hat, we have come to the conclusion that it would be best if he were reassigned to his proper house – that of Gryffindor!” At this announcement, a roar of disbelief and anger rose from the Slytherins, matched only by the cheers and applause from most of the Gryffindors. Nearly-Headless Nick was beaming, while the Bloody Baron looked like he was ready to explode.

After a short pause, Albus raised his hands to try to quiet them. “Harry, please join your new Housemates at the Gryffindor Table. Now, while he is taking his seat, I have more to say to you all. Under these unusual circumstances and in all fairness, I have decided to offer this opportunity to any fourth-year student who feels that they, too, may have been assigned to the wrong house during their Sorting. If you are convinced that you have a valid reason to change to a different house, please contact your current Head of House within the next two days and schedule a hearing on the matter. A teacher’s council consisting of myself and the Heads of the four Houses will evaluate your requests on a case-by-case basis and make any changes that are necessary. A word of caution, however. This is not to be taken lightly. Do not ask for a change simply because your feelings were hurt by someone in your house, or because you want to live closer to the kitchens.” A knowing chuckle rose from the Hufflepuff table.

“This is a one-time opportunity. Be very sure you wish to change houses, because this time it will be permanent. Now, before we start the Sorting, rest assured that we are confident that the outside force that affected the Sorting Hat that night has not done so since, which is why this offer applies only to our new fourth-year students.”

Trying to ignore the eyes of most everyone, alive or dead, in the Great Hall, Harry walked to the Gryffindor Table and took the place that Ron and Hermione had saved between them. In an attempt to distract himself from the stares he was getting, Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor. “Let’s see…there’s Snape, and Sinistra, and Flitwick, and Miss Puckle…Professor Vector, Professor Sprout, Madam Hooch, that Muggle Studies wizard...” but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn’t think who else was missing.

“Where’s the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher?” said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

******

After the excitement from Moody’s dramatic appearance and the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament qualifications had died down slightly, Dumbledore had one last thing to say. “The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

At that moment, both Harry and Hermione remembered the assigned tasks that Miss Puckle had told them after the Quidditch World Cup. Harry turned to his new roommate and asked, “Could you wait here for a minute, Ron? The Headmaster needs to talk to me for a minute about something, and I need you to show me how to get to our room in Gryffindor Tower.”

“Sure, mate…I’d be glad to! I’m too excited to get to sleep tonight anyway! All that news about the Triwizard tournament…just think, a THOUSAND GALLEONS!”

Hermione smiled at Harry and Ron, and said, “Well, I’ll see you both at breakfast tomorrow morning, then,” and headed off with the other students. However, as soon as she got out of their sight, she doubled back and headed towards the hospital wing.

When Harry and Ron reached the head table, Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled happily as he greeted him again. “Harry, I’m glad you remembered Miss Puckle’s message on my behalf. Now, Mr. Weasley, please sit over there and wait. I will provide both of you with a note authorizing you to be out after hours tonight, but I have to discuss something in private with Mr. Potter.” With that, he cast a privacy charm around the two of them that appeared to Ron to be a semi-transparent bubble. He realized this would serve to dissuade any potential lip-readers in the area.

“Now that we have some privacy, Harry, let’s get right to the point of this meeting. I would like to discuss your growing feelings for Miss Granger.” At this, Harry blushed for a second, but he didn’t speak. “Mr. Potter…I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…I must insist that you work as hard as you can this year to control your …attraction for her, both physically and emotionally. This year is not the time or the place for that.”

Harry’s embarrassment faded quickly and his Slytherin anger started to build as he spoke. “Now, just a minute, Headmaster. What business is it of yours what my feelings are for Hermione? And, don’t EVEN start with some rubbish about us being too young…you know as well as I that third-year and even second-year students go out on dates, so that won’t wash with me. Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything, well, you know, inappropriate with each other! Yes, we’ve had a few good snogs, but nothing beyond that; again, not that it is ANY of your business! You’d better have a good reason for daring to say such a thing to me, and you’d better tell me NOW, or else this conversation is OVER!” His eyes flashed green as he nearly yelled this last bit and a wave of anger surged in his mind.

Albus looked deeply into Harry’s eyes for a second, but then he shook his head, not quite sure what he thought he saw. He spoke quietly in an attempt to calm his student. “Harry, please, calm your mind. You are correct. What I have asked of you I would normally have no business saying to any of my students. The juvenile romances, snogging sessions, cases of puppy love, crushes, and resulting heartbreaks that always occur each year at Hogwarts are usually an essential part of the growth of all children your age, including Muggles around the world, for that matter. In all my years here, I have only intervened when there has been the potential for abuse, or when one of the parties involved begins to develop an unwanted obsession with the other party, which does happen from time to time. However, in this case, I have a much more important reason to ask you this favor. Putting it simply, without trying to be too dramatic about it, if you fail to do what I have asked just now I fear it may result in the deaths of untold numbers of wizards, witches, and Muggles, not to mention both yours and Miss Granger’s.”

Harry snorted in unbelief as he heard this pronouncement. “You…you’ve got to be joking, sir!” But as he saw his headmaster’s expression and looked once again into his eyes, he knew that he was being quite serious. “But…that’s just…stupid! How could us being together end up killing her…or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Harry, I wish I knew all the details, but I will share what I can with you. Do you remember your first ‘date’ with Miss Granger at the end of term last year? Of course you do!” he winked at Harry as he said this. “Miss Puckle owled me after the two of you talked with her and filled me in on the details you described…quite impressive, I must say – a corporeal Patronus that could support both of you for approximately ten minutes. Unfortunately, that much magical energy cannot be easily ignored by others. I agree with her assessment – the Dementors at Azkaban surely felt what you accomplished together that night, as did a few others who are just as evil, unfortunately. At the time even I felt a powerful surge of energy, but I did not understand why. I should have investigated further at the time, but it was such a happy feeling that I could not imagine any harm coming from it. And, since then, I understand that you have had other manifestations of your closeness since then. This is why I am so concerned for your safety. Rest assured, this restriction is not permanent. But, until you both have received more instruction in how to control your connection, it is best that you minimize your contact with each other. No, I don’t want you to avoid her this year, but treat her as you would any other of your female housemates – develop your friendship with her first. It seems from what I have been told that the effects of the bond are strongest when you are…” and Dumbledore cleared his throat, “… in direct physical contact with her?”

Harry thought for a moment, and nodded his head.

“Good! That means we have an obvious solution. Please restrain from any type of prolonged physical contact with her this year, and hopefully this will draw less unwanted attention to the two of you. I know this will be difficult for you, but if you truly care about her and want her to be safe, I must insist. And, before you ask, yes, I will inform Miss Granger of this request and the reasoning behind it that I have shared with you tonight. I surely do not want her to get a mistaken idea that you have lost interest in her!” His eyes twinkled brightly as he smiled at Harry. “She is quite an impressive witch, you know. I am happy that you have found two good friends to support you. Be patient, Harry, and enjoy this year with your new House and your friends. You may find that focusing on developing your friendship without the physical distractions may be the best thing you can do for your relationship with her.”

Harry didn’t seem to be too convinced. “I hope you are right about this, sir. She is very important to me, and I don’t want to have anything happen to her. But, if I find you are not telling me the truth, on this or other things, I promise I will find it hard to forgive you.”

“I already find it equally hard to forgive myself…over many things, Harry. Now, you and Mr. Weasley need to get to your rooms. Here’s your hall pass. Now, get to bed!” and he dispersed the privacy bubble.

As they left the hall, Ron asked, “Blimey, mate, what was that all about? You don’t look too happy, Harry! Was Dumbledore trying to change his mind on your House change?”

“No, nothing like that…he just gave me some unpleasant news now. I’m sure it will be okay.” But, he said this more to convince himself than Ron as they walked down the empty, darkened hall towards Gryffindor Tower.

******

“Ah…Miss Granger. There you are. The Headmaster said I would be expecting you tonight. The Welcoming Feast is over with, I take it?” Madam Pomfrey looked up from her desk as Hermione, carrying a small backpack with her overnight things and her favorite pillow, came into the Hospital Wing. She had packed it in secret when Harry had gone to the loo on the Hogwarts Express earlier that day, and had magically shrunk it to fit in her robe pocket until she had left the Great Hall.

“Since it is so early in the year you should be my only patient tonight, so you can have your pick of beds. But first, why don’t you go change into your night clothes, then we can start the testing. The results won’t be available until tomorrow, you know.”

Hermione threw her bag and her pillow on one of the beds and quickly changed out of all of her still-damp clothes and put on her summer-weight nightdress and fuzzy slippers to protect against the cold stone floors. “Where do you want me to put my wet things?” Hermione asked the nurse from behind the nearby privacy screen.

“Just leave them there, my dear. A house elf will take care of them.”

“Hmph!” said Hermione once again at the mention of her soon-to-be obsession.

“Did you say something, Miss Granger?” Poppy said when she heard Hermione’s mutterings about unfair treatment and slave labor as she tried to fold her discarded clothes neatly and put them back into her backpack.

“Never mind, Madam Pomfrey. I’ve taken care of it.”

When she came out from behind the screen, the school nurse immediately started talking to herself. “Yes…I can see why Albus was concerned…well, it could just be that…” and then she sighed and spoke directly to Hermione. “I suppose there’s only one way to be sure. Thank you for choosing such a thin nightgown, by the way. It makes the diagnostics process much more accurate, while still allowing you to maintain your modesty. I’ve been a healer for so many years that skin doesn’t bother me at all, but I’m sure you’re still a bit shy about that.” Hermione nodded in agreement, grateful that she wasn’t going to have to be made more uncomfortable than she already was. “First things first. Let me take care of those nasty looking scratches. Your Kneazle, I presume?”

Hermione again nodded as Poppy waved her wand, healing the scratches immediately.

“Now, Miss Granger, please stand there with your arms out straight from your sides, legs slightly apart. That’s it…now, hold still. This may, well, tickle a little, so don’t start giggling if you can help it. If you have any questions, and knowing your reputation I’m sure you will, you may ask away. All I ask is that you keep your head as still as possible when you speak.” And, using her wand, Poppy performed a very complex combination of twists and flicks in a specific pattern around her patient’s body, which while it did tickle, actually felt quite invigorating. Glancing down quickly, Hermione saw a spectacular, dynamic glow form around her, a few inches away from her skin. “Madam Pomfrey…is that what Muggles would call my aura?”

“That’s right, Hermione, although to be honest, a Muggle’s aura is much less impressive since it does not include any magical indicators. But, in either case, it can be used to provide a wealth of information about the subject’s general health and well-being. No, don’t look down – here, let me get you a mirror so you can see better.”

And, with a wave of her hand, she conjured a full-length mirror right in Hermione’s line of sight. “See, these bright colors here, and the unique patterns here….and here…those are indicators of a magical person. All magical creatures, including witches and wizards have similar aural indicators that can be used to verify their membership in the community of Magical Brethren. Hmmm…well, this IS interesting…that’s not supposed to look like that…and you have definitely been…”

“Madam Pomfrey…what is it? Is there something wrong with me? What is going on? Please stop muttering like that!” Hermione pleaded, trying her hardest to keep still as the tickling sensation was building throughout her body until it was no longer pleasant.

“My dear Miss Granger, until I have a chance to analyze this information, there’s not much I can say to you. First thing in the morning I promise I’ll be able to tell you more. One thing I can tell you right now is that you have a classic healer’s aura. As you consider your career options, in the coming year, I hope you will think carefully about that one. Now, that should about do it. I’ve recorded all I need to make a diagnosis.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey…yes, I’ve considered healing already. I guess I’ve always been interested in that because of my parents being Muggle Dentists, you know! So, may I put my arms down now?”

As the nurse nodded and Hermione lowered her arms, Nearly Headless Nick glided hurriedly through the doors. “Hurry, Madam Pomfrey! Harry Potter’s been attacked!”

Chapter 33 – A Stay in the Hospital

“Hurry, Madam Pomfrey! Harry Potter’s been attacked!” At these completely unexpected words from Nearly-Headless Nick, the school nurse grabbed her wand and started immediately for the doorway at the other end of the room, followed close at her heels by Hermione. Poppy looked back at her and said sharply, “Miss Granger, you should stay here! I don’t think you want to be seen in the halls wearing as little as you are right now.”

“I don’t care about that! Harry’s in trouble...and I’m going with you!” Hermione answered with fierce determination.

But, just as they were about to open the doors, Miss Puckle came through them with an obviously unconscious Harry floating closely behind her on a stretcher. Though he had apparently come out the loser in this attack, Hermione immediately noticed the fierce look on his face. She then saw that his glasses were slightly askew and one lens was cracked. Also, his shoulder was dipped as if he were trying to duck a spell and he had a death grip on his wand based on the whiteness of the knuckles on that hand.

“What…Harmony, what happened?” Hermione looked imploringly at her friend. “Is he…petrified? How did it happen? Where did you find him? Who could have done this?” she said, the anger building in her voice as she spoke.

“Hermione, as you already know there is more than one way to petrify someone, and you know about one of them first-hand. In answer to your questions, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to tell us soon what happened, and I was just lucky to be walking not too far from Gryffindor Tower when I found him in a side corridor, just like you see him. I sent Nicholas ahead to alert you, and now he’s notifying Albus. I hope that he will be able to investigate and find out the answer to your last question. It will help, though, if we can reconstruct who he was with last. When was the last time you saw him, Hermione?”

As Madam Pomfrey floated Harry’s frozen form into the bed next to the one Hermione had already chosen and began evaluating his condition, Hermione answered, “Well, it was right before I came here. He was asking Ron Weasley to show him the way to the tower entrance. Ron was positively drooling about the thousand-galleon prize for the tournament, but he said he would show Harry the way. Speaking of which, just where IS Ron? He must have been one of the last to see Harry tonight – besides whoever attacked him, that is! Wait a minute…you don’t think…?

“Actually, Hermione, that is the curious thing – I had gone to Gryffindor Tower in the first place to talk to Ron about a few things, but he wasn’t there. Strangely, no one had seen him after the feast. His roommates were looking forward to having Harry in their room and were expecting Ron to have brought him round already. But, I doubt that Ron has anything to do with Harry being attacked - I know him better than that, I dare say.”

Just then, the Headmaster came through the door, looking quite concerned. He hurried quickly to Harry’s side and looked him over carefully. He watched quietly as the nurse performed a spell similar to the one she had done on Hermione earlier to reveal her aura, muttering to herself over what she was seeing. Finally, he cleared his throat softly before he spoke. “Poppy, what is it? Can you tell how Harry came to be petrified? Do I need to ask Professor Sprout to start growing some Mandrakes?”

“No, Albus, it’s fortunately nothing that serious. From what I can tell, Mr. Potter has been hit by multiple Petrificus Totalus spells, obviously cast by a number of people simultaneously. One person didn’t do this to him – it took a large group, probably sneaking up on him in the halls. I am confident that he should be coming out of it before morning, so I’d like to keep him here for the night to make sure nothing else is wrong with him. Some of the indications I see now are…well, interesting, to say the least. Oh, Hermione, it looks like you’ll have to share the hospital wing after all! Normally, I’d recommend that you change into something a little more modest and I’d put up a barrier between your beds, but tonight I doubt he’ll notice anything even if you were laying next to him starkers!” she said with a wink.

Both Harmony and Hermione blushed at her flippant comment, but fortunately only Albus noticed Miss Puckle’s reaction before he spoke to Hermione. “Miss Granger, that reminds me of something I need to discuss with you. I promised Harry tonight that I would do so, and this is as good of a time as any.”

“What is it, sir?” Hermione asked quickly. “What did Harry want you to talk to me about?”

. . . . .

“…so I’d really appreciate it if you would do this difficult thing, for both yours and Harry’s sake. Harry has already agreed to the restrictions, but he asked me to explain this to you so you wouldn’t misinterpret his actions.” As Albus finished describing his earlier conversation with Harry, and asked Hermione to support him by “cooling” her relationship with Harry, it became more and more obvious that his words were having the opposite effect. Having Miss Puckle there, apparently agreeing with all Dumbledore was asking of her and seemingly encouraging her to give in quietly was almost too much for her to bear. As he spoke, her body began shaking slightly, but it wasn’t caused by the coldness of the stone floors or the thinness of her nightgown.

As the last words left his mouth, it was with great effort that she controlled her anger. “How…DARE… you!” she finally said to them through clenched teeth. “And YOU especially, Harmony! After all these years of you encouraging me to first even notice Harry, then to start considering him as a possible friend while he was in Slytherin House, culminating in all the ‘assistance’ you gave me to overcome my fears to not only go out with him, but to set us up with that scene from Romeo and Juliet, and with him in Gryffindor with me now…how could you do this to me? I thought you were on my side!”, and a tiny sob escaped from her lips. “Now that I am really starting to…well, enjoy being around him, you have the NERVE to ask me to abandon him?”

“Now, Miss Granger,” Albus started to say with a placating tone, “I never asked you to abandon him, I just…”

The fact that Hermione cut her Headmaster off quite abruptly showed just how upset she was. “YES YOU DID! Because, truth be told, that’s probably the only way I’ll be able to do what you ask. Now that I am getting to know him better, I am finding that I …well, I’m not sure quite what I feel for Harry, but I want to see where this takes me…takes us. It’s not like we’re doing anything inappropriate, you know! And, before you bring it up, my feelings for him are not just because we enjoy kissing each other. I’ll have you know that earlier today on the Hogwarts Express, we actually had a long conversation with no snogging whatsoever, and it was wonderful! But, I don’t know that I can promise to do that all year, based only on your claim that it may put Harry and me in danger? Just look at him – he’s in danger already, and I wasn’t even there! Who knows, if I had been there maybe they wouldn’t have attacked him in the first place…or possibly together, we would have been able to fight them off? I have a certain amount of talent in both Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts, you know!”

Knowing full well that she might not be able to sway her once the younger girl’s mind was made up, Harmony still gave it one more try. “Hermione, I am sure you are understandably angry with both of us; and that you feel I especially have betrayed your trust.” Hermione nodded angrily at this as she turned away quickly, not wanting to look her teacher in the eye. “For that, I am sorrier than you can imagine…because I KNOW how important trust is to you. But, I ask you, to please trust the headmaster and me one more time on this. We are very worried about the two of you this year, especially with the dangers we fear you are facing. And, as you would have heard if you hadn’t interrupted him so rudely, Professor Dumbledore was trying to tell you that he has no intention of ‘splitting you up’ this year. In fact, he very much wants you to be Harry’s friend, because we both feel that Harry will need you badly this year and in the future. Please, Hermione, we just want you both to be safe. If I could only get you to understand how important that is to me personally, and to all of us!”

Hermione was obviously deep in thought for quite some time. Then, with her eyes still flashing, she finally broke the silence. “Okay, I’ve thought of a way to resolve this,” she said, “Let me talk this over with Harry and TOGETHER we’ll make a decision as to what WE want to do. Since Harry will be incapacitated until tomorrow morning, and my presence is required here also, I don’t see that much will happen until then. Now, however, it is getting late, and I have classes tomorrow, so I would ask that you all leave so I can get some rest. Good night!” With that, she walked briskly over to the bed next to the one where Poppy had placed Harry, climbed in, and deliberately turned her back on the others while facing Harry’s frozen form.

The three adults looked at each other, stunned. Madam Pomfrey was the first to recover. “She’s absolutely right, you know. My patients need their rest, and it is WELL past visiting hours on this ward! Now, you two get out of here!”

As the others left, Poppy said under her breath, “Yes, a natural healer’s aura if I ever saw one. She’d make a great Head Nurse some day!” Out loud, she said, “Good night, Hermione. I’ll see you in the morning with the results of my test. Have a good night’s rest, now. Remember, I trust you to not do anything…well, let’s just say inappropriate with Mr. Potter in his current unaware state. Please don’t disturb him or touch him in any way, or else I will have to separate you! He’ll be back to normal by the morning.” She herself then left the room, extinguishing the lights with a wave of her wand.

As soon as the door closed behind the nurse, Hermione uttered a quick “Lumos!” She played the light from her wand over her boyfriend’s stiff body, examining him carefully from head to toe. After convincing herself that he was still alive, she took advantage of the opportunity to really look at his face without interruption or embarrassment. <My Harry is really growing to be quite handsome, isn’t he? Wait a minute…my Harry? Where did that thought come from, Hermione? *sigh*…if only I knew what was going to happen with us…I wonder why they are so concerned for our safety?> Tentatively, she reached for his wand hand and held it gently, grateful to feel his warmth. Finally, she began to talk, even though she knew Harry couldn’t hear her. “Well, Harry, I guess we’re going to spend our first night sleeping together…wasn’t quite how I pictured it, honestly! Not all that romantic, although I’m definitely dressed more appropriately than you are.”

She realized that her face was noticeably warmer as she talked to Harry about her sleeping apparel, so she decided to switch topics. “Can you imagine the NERVE of Harmony and Professor Dumbledore, asking us that? When I figured out just what it was they were talking about, something inside me just snapped and I let them both have it. But, I am upset with you, too, you know. Why, Harry? Why did you agree to such a thing? Did you do it because you were trying to protect me? While I do appreciate your concern, Harry, please check with me first next time, okay? I have an interest in anything to do with our relationship, you know! I just don’t see how our kissing and hugging like we have done so far is all that dangerous…besides, if you tried anything more than that right now, that WOULD be dangerous - for you!”, she grinned wickedly.

“Ginny showed me a few ‘interesting’ hexes she’s learned from her older brothers that are rather cruel. Older brothers looking out for their only sister, you know. Let’s just say that if, oh, Draco ever tried to do anything along those lines, well, the Malfoy’s pureblood line would not extend beyond his generation, if you get my meaning. Not that I’d do anything like that to you, of course…” and as she continued that thought, she was sure her blush extended a lot further than it ever had before. “I’m sure glad you aren’t awake to see me like this, Harry…I’m sure I’d die of embarrassment! Wow…is it getting warm in here? I won’t need a blanket for a while tonight, I dare say!” After another pause while she looked lovingly at him, she leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Harry, I know you can’t hear me, but…I wanted you to know that I think I’m…well, anyway…good night, Harry.”

Releasing his hand, she gently removed his glasses and put them on the nightstand next to his bed. Pointing her wand at the broken lens, she muttered “Reparo!” and smiled at the successful results. "I just saved you a trip to the shop! Oh, don’t mention it, Harry!” she chuckled. Then, tenderly, she leaned over and started to give him a loving kiss on his scar. As she touched the lightning-shaped mark, she could have sworn that Harry moaned slightly. Hermione jumped back, her lips burning painfully where they had touched the damaged skin on his forehead. Immediately, in her mind she thought she saw…a familiar corridor, not too far from Gryffindor tower. Then, her view shifted as she looked down in the vision, and she was wearing…Harry’s robes…and holding Harry’s wand in a defensive stance. She looked around, and saw Ron Weasley looking around nervously. <I must be tapping into Harry’s memories!> she realized quickly. <Maybe I can see who did this to him…and where Ron is.>

The Ron in her mind’s eye spoke in an unsteady voice. “Ha…Harry…what was that noise? I’ve lived with a ghoul over my head for my whole life, and I’ve never heard anything moan like that! I’m going to go find some help!” Then, she heard Harry’s voice whispering forcefully to a rapidly retreating redhead, “Wait up, Weasley! Do you think I want to be here by myself…with whatever it is we just heard? I don’t even know where we are, you git!”

He started walking in the direction that Ron headed, but he came to a crossing passageway and knew he could go no further alone. “Ahhhh…that’s just great!” the Harry in her vision muttered to himself. “What a great way to start out my first night as a brave Gryffindor…lost and a bit…well, cautious…maybe? Wonder where Hermione is? Probably safe in her bed already...I wish she were here right now…or I were there! No, I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t think about those kind of things this year…get a grip, Potter!” Then, Hermione heard a horrible moaning sound through Harry’s ears as he gripped his wand tighter. “There it is again…who’s there? What…?” and she saw Harry turn around with his wand extended. She caught a glimpse of a group of darkly robed and hooded shapes drawing their wands, and then Harry ducked his shoulder…. Hermione sat back onto her own bed and blinked her eyes. She vaguely remembered seeing Harry in his bed before she, too, was unconscious. Thus, she was quite unaware of Harry’s wand dropping to the floor and his face relaxing into a peaceful sleep.

“Wh…wha…what happened? Where am I?” Harry said early the next morning as he awoke with a start in the still-dark hospital wing. “Where’s my wand? “LUMOS!” he shouted instinctively, hoping that his wand was close enough to respond to his command. He was very surprised to see the ghostly light from not one, but two, glowing wand tips in the darkness around him. One came from the floor next to his bed, and one was on the nightstand of the bed next to his…which had someone sleeping in it! He reached unsteadily to the floor, grabbed his wand shakily, and looked around wildly for his glasses.

When he found them on the nightstand, he put them on hurriedly and then tried to focus his still-muddled senses on the bed next to his. “Hermione…what are YOU doing in my room?” As his head cleared, he looked around more carefully. “Wait, this isn’t my room…it’s the Hospital wing…Hermione, wake up!” and he shook her gently. She moaned and rolled over on her back, her arms falling loosely to her side. Harry immediately blushed as he saw what she was wearing…and a little bit more than that, besides. “HERMIONE! W…wow!” he stammered, having just been reminded once again that his girlfriend had matured considerably over the summer. “Well, if I intend to keep my promise to Dumbledore, I’d better do something quick!” He grabbed the blanket at the foot of her bed and pulled it over her.

“There, that’s…well, not better, maybe, but definitely safer…Hermione, please wake up! I’ve just had the strangest dream.” He shook her a little harder this time, and her eyes fluttered open groggily. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked toward him.

“H…Harry? Oh, you’re awake! Are you okay now?” She shook her throbbing head gingerly.” OW! My head feels like it’s going to explode…”and she slumped back onto her pillow, trying to rub her temples. Before Harry knew what he was doing, he was standing behind her at the head of her bed, gently pushing her hands away as he took over for her. “Here, let me…”

She immediately relaxed at his cool touch. It was as if his fingers were absorbing the pain from her head wherever they touched. She felt a shudder pass through her entire body as he continued his skillful massage. ‘Oooh…Harry…that feels so nice…where did you ever learn how to…do that so well?” she purred.

“You know, Hermione, I have no idea,” he quickly admitted. “It’s almost as if…I knew just what you needed, and my hands had a mind of their own. I’m glad I could help.” He intentionally failed to mention the intense pain that he had felt from when he first touched her. Now that the pain was rapidly dissipating, he decided there was no need to bring that up as he slowed, and then stopped, his massage. A strange weakness came over him, and he almost fell back into his bed, drained.

Hermione, however, didn’t notice his discomfort as she was still remembering his ministrations. “Thanks, Harry…that was wonderful. You’re quite the masseur! You’ll have to do that for me again sometime!”

“Uh…Hermione, well, I need to talk to you …about that. I guess you haven’t talked to the Headmaster yet, have you?”

“Actually, Harry, I have. He came to check on you when Miss Puckle brought you in, frozen like a statue. And yes, I agree, WE need to talk about what he said. But first, I need to let Madam Pomfrey know you are awake.” As she stood up quickly, the blanket that Harry had used to cover her fell to the floor. She bent over to pick it up, which once again made Harry blush and turn his head away quickly.

“Oh…sorry about that, Harry. I forgot for a second just how revealing this gown can be when I bend over.” She quickly wrapped the blanket around her upper body like a shawl, but Harry was still looking away guiltily. "Oh, honestly, Harry, don’t act so silly…it’s just me, you know, don’t you remember…your girlfriend? I suppose I’m the one that should be embarrassed. But, I’m not fussed in the least, seeing as it’s you that saw me just now. It was obviously an accident, wasn’t it? Just don’t go expecting a repeat showing any time soon…but, as I said, we’ll talk about that later. Let me go get the nurse.”

She returned quickly with Madam Pomfrey and sat next to him on his bed. Poppy waved her wand as she looked into Harry’s eyes. The lights quickly came up very brightly in the room, causing his eyes to water and blink rapidly. “Good…normal reflex reactions have returned. Well, Potter, I wasn’t expecting to see you come around for a few more hours under the circumstances. You must recover very quickly – you were hit with a lot of magical energy, and it’s difficult for your body to dissipate it that rapidly without help of some kind.” She tapped her finger on her chin in thought for a minute, and then turned towards Hermione. “Now, Miss Granger…you didn’t have anything to do with this, did you? I told you not to bother him!”

Hermione started to rise to her own defense. “All I did was take his glasses and put them on the nightstand. I even fixed his broken lens for him, see? And then…” Hermione realized that she really didn’t want to confess what happened next.

“Yes, Miss Granger…I’m waiting…” Poppy said, impatiently.

“Well, all I did was…talk to him for a while, and then I gave him a good night kiss…on his scar, by the way. And then, it was as if I were in his mind, seeing what he saw up until he was attacked…and then next thing I knew, Harry was shaking me awake.” She thought it was best not to mention her headache and how Harry had instinctively relieved her pain.

Madam Pomfrey was grinning widely. “Well, in the Muggle stories, it was the Prince who woke up the Princess with a kiss, but I suppose it works the other way, too!” Both Harry and Hermione blushed a little, but they found each other’s hands and squeezed them lovingly. This slight motion didn’t go unobserved by the nurse. However, she didn’t notice two sets of eyes who were watching from the shadows as she spoke her mind. “You know, my dears, it’s really not my place to say anything against Albus. I’m sure he has his reasons, but I just don’t think his request of you is either fair or completely necessary. In all my years at Hogwarts, I’ve seen my share of student relationships come and go. Truthfully, the last couples I saw here that had anything close to what I see in the two of you were… James and Lilly Potter, and Frank Longbottom and his Alice. Now that I think about it I think you may just represent the best of both of them. From what you just told me about your connection with Harry, Hermione, you appear to have the spiritual bond that the Longbottoms were known for. And, from what I’ve observed and heard rumors about, you also have the combined magical skills and the passion for each other of the Potters…that is quite a powerful combination! You both have quite a mature outlook on life...which fits in with what I need to discuss with the two of you. I have the results of your diagnoses…and you both have very strange symptoms. Let me start with Miss Granger. What I saw in your aura is actually understandable, considering your unauthorized over-use of the time-turner last year. Let me ask, Hermione. How old are you… chronologically, that is?”

“Well, my 15th birthday is coming up in a few weeks…on September 19th. I turned twelve right after I started here, you know, so I’m probably one of the oldest fourth-year students at the school.”

“Miss Granger, let me assure you that ‘probably’ is an understatement. You are surely no longer ‘one of’ the oldest fourth year students, in fact, you are biologically older than some of our sixth-years. The data I have gathered indicates that you are 17 years, 23 days, and 5 hours old, which means you repeated over 2 years and 1 month of subjective time during your third year. This explains a number of things, including the rapid maturing of your body. In fact, the obvious physical changes in both your upper and lower body are some of the indicators I noticed right away when I saw you change into your nightgown earlier. Let’s just say you are truly a young woman now, my dear, as I’m sure Harry is quite aware of from the look I see on his face. Didn’t Minerva and Albus warn you about the side effects? Surely you didn’t forget such an important fact?”

“No, they warned me…regularly. But, I was so busy helping Hagrid with Buckbeak’s defense, since no one else was helping (she glared at Harry as she said this) and I was taking so many classes, and I thought just a few more hours would be okay…” her voice trailed off sadly. “So, what’s the prognosis, Madam Pomfrey?”

“Actually, considering that the lifespan of Wizarding folk is so much longer than Muggles, in the long-term scheme of things it’s not too bad. You appear to have sustained no damage at all from the time stress to your system. But once in a while the effects are latent. Eventually they could catch up with you. It isn’t anything to worry about, and it isn’t even very likely. But it is something to be aware of.”

“What kind of effects?” Hermione said, startled. Harry, too, was listening very intently sitting next to her and appeared to be holding his breath.

“Heart problems, mostly. The ‘extra’ pumping may cause additional wear on the valves. So you should be sure not to let more than six years pass between checkups after age 140 or so.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” Hermione said, thinking with relief, <A few years? Over a century from now seems an immeasurably long time.> Harry whistled slowly as he started to breath again. “Really, Madame Pomfrey? She can live to be that old?”

“Of course, my dear. And, if she takes care of herself, even older. For example, I know of one witch by the name of Griselda Marchbanks. She’s the head of the Wizarding Examination Authority, and she must be well over 160 if she’s a day. She personally administered our Headmaster’s N.E.W.T. exams, and he’s no spring chicken himself. You’ll meet her at the end of next year. Don’t tell her I said anything, though. She’s a bit sensitive about it sometimes. And, wizards can live just as long, so if you two are interested and keep each other alive, you can be together for a long, long, time. Assuming you don’t get tired of each other, that is! But, that leads me to my next report. Harry, when I examined you after you were brought in, I saw similar aging indicators as I saw with Hermione before. In fact, I thought for a second I was getting an echo of her results as I examined you and I was going to have to have my wand repaired. But, after checking things carefully, I saw that the data was clear. Harry, you appear to be…well, approximately FIVE years older biologically than you are chronologically, but only in certain indicators. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been exposed to a …but that’s impossible. You’ve never even been to the Ministry offices, have you?”

Harry was stunned. “FIVE years, you said? But, how can that be? I’ve only used the time-turner once, and it was for only a few hours when Hermione and I went back to rescue Buckbeak and…” Harry quickly stopped talking as he realized what he was about to say. Madam Pomfrey raised her eyebrow for a second, but chose to ignore it.

“Be that as it may, I stand by both diagnoses. I will be providing this information to the Headmaster, and possibly he can come up with a reasonable explanation. Just to let you know, Harry, your prognosis is the same as Miss Granger’s…in about 125 years or so, please make an initial appointment with a Healer specializing in time-related illnesses. The two of you could go together, you know, and make a date of it!”

Harry smiled and turned to his girlfriend. “How about it, Miss Granger? Would you go with me to visit the healer 125 years from today? I’ll fly us there on the fastest broom I can still ride!”

Hermione’s eyes glistened as she gave Harry a big hug and looked deeply into his green eyes. “Yes, of course, Mr. Potter. I’m holding you to this, you know. Don’t be late to pick me up.” <Although, I hope he just has to remind me when we get out of bed that morning!> she thought as she pictured the scene in her mind.

“Hermione, did you just think what I thought you did?” Harry blushed at what he had heard and seen so clearly in his mind. “Something about…reminding you when we get out of bed that morning? And, besides, how would you know if I’ll be bald or not by then…or what I usually wear to bed?”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to blush. “Yes, something like that DID cross my mind, Harry. Is that okay with you?” she asked cautiously, turning away from him slightly.

Harry put his hands tenderly on each side of her face, turned her head gently toward his, and stared deeply into her brown eyes. “Oh, it’s more than okay…it’s what I want, too.”

They were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of Madam Pomfrey sniffling and blowing her nose. “Young love…there’s nothing like it.”

“Nothing indeed, Poppy.”

“Yes…of course you’re right.” another voice said, overcome with emotion.

“Albus…Harmony! I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been listening?”

“Long enough to realize that we may have to reconsider my request of our two…more mature students. I have been unable to sleep after I considered Miss Granger’s harsh but appropriate words last night, and Miss Puckle and I have been busy considering alternative solutions. From what we’ve heard just now, I doubt that there is anything that can be done to prevent the inevitable. I was hoping that I could delay having this conversation with you two, but under the circumstances, I must let you both know something that will be of great importance to your safety. I implore you that you do not consummate your relationship until after you are married. You are both chronologically eligible for marriage under the customs of the Wizarding World after Harry’s 17th birthday, which will be in just under three more years. In case you think I am just being old-fashioned, I assure you that there is a reason for you to remain chaste until after the ceremony. As part of a Wizarding World marriage, certain powers are available to those who “wait”, and I am certain that you two will need all the help you can get to face the challenges ahead. But, now, you two need to get back to your rooms, get dressed, and get to breakfast. You’ve got to pick up your class schedules, you know. You’ve got quite the interesting year ahead of you, I’m sure. Harry, I’ll show you the way to your room, and Harmony, why don’t you walk with Miss Granger? We can talk more while we walk.”

(A/N – There is a section in this chapter that is a “borrow” from a relatively obscure science fiction novel, based in another well-known fandom universe. If anybody here catches it, I’ll be very surprised! However, I’ll tell you the details in my next author’s note.)

Chapter 34 – “Furonem Pulsum!”

(A/N - The scene in the last chapter where Poppy is telling Hermione about the potential heart problems she may face after age 140 came from a Pocket Books paperback called Enterprise – The First Adventure by Vonda N. McIntyre, a somewhat well-known author of Star Trek™ related fiction. The book describes Captain Kirk’s first mission in command of the USS Enterprise. The copy I have was published in 1986, so I doubt that too many of you may have heard of it, or even care, for that matter.

In that book, the dialogue was between Dr. McCoy and Sulu, who had lived on a high-gravity planet when he was growing up in this version of the Star Trek back story. The major difference between the scenes is that McCoy told Sulu to start getting checked at age 70 and every 3 years or so after that, which is related to my observation that wizard-folk seem to age at a 1:2 rate compared to Muggles. Trivia, I know, but I’ve been a Star Trek fan - just don’t call me a Trekkie *grrr* - since I was about 5 or 6.

Also, for those of you who may end up being a little disappointed in the direction this chapter heads, well, I do have my reasons, and they are explained in the end Author’s Note.)

“Hermione…we…uh…”

“Yes, Harry?” Hermione whispered in his ear. After being escorted to Gryffindor Tower, Harry and Hermione had been able to sneak quite easily into their respective rooms to shower and change into fresh school robes before heading down to breakfast. The storm had blown itself out by then, but there was still a chill in the air. Fortunately, they had figured out a very good way to keep each other warm. The two had just returned to the common room and were cuddling together by the fireplace in one of the larger armchairs. They planned on taking full advantage of a last moment together before the term officially started.

“We need to talk…about, well, you know…” Harry stammered and blushed, staring intently into the flickering flames. “All that…stuff that Dumbledore told us just now, about whether or not we are going to let anyone else know about…us, and about not…well, you know…until we…erm…get married? I don’t want…”

Hermione stiffened and her tone quickly turned businesslike. “You don’t want what, Harry? Getting cold feet already? Remember, the Headmaster said we have to wait until you’re officially seventeen before we could consider get married, anyway, so it’s not like you’d have to do worry about it until…”

“Now, wait just a second, Hermione!” Harry glared at her for interrupting him. “What makes you think I’m having second thoughts? All I was going to say is that I don’t want to do anything that involves the two of us without talking to you – isn’t that what you told me you wanted? Being Muggle-raised, I’m not all that familiar with the Wizarding customs he was talking about. I was hoping you’d probably know something more about it from your studies, and now you’re accusing me of getting cold feet!”

Her face fell as she realized she had jumped to conclusions without reason, although a nagging voice in her mind told her there was something not quite right about what Harry just said. “Oh, Harry, please forgive me! There I go, assuming that you…didn’t want to get stuck with someone as plain-looking and swotty as me. I mean, you’re the Boy-Who-Lived, and I’m …”

Whatever she thought she was, it was never expressed as Harry put his finger gently on her lips and gave her a big hug. “For someone who is supposedly so clever, sometimes you are just mental, Hermione. For one thing, I don’t mind at all that you’re ‘swotty’ – it’s part of who you are. And, why are you calling yourself plain? Surely you should know by now how I feel about you? And, besides, after what happened in the hospital wing a while ago, well, plain isn’t the word I’d use to describe you!”

Hermione melted into his embrace and moved in for a kiss, but was surprised to see him turn away, blushing. “What’s wrong, Harry…just what did you see, anyway?”

“Erm…well, the better question would be what I didn’t see…either time.” Harry said quietly, still looking away.

“And…that makes you uncomfortable? I mean, I just bent over to pick up a blanket. It wasn’t like you were trying to sneak a peek at me, was it? Like I said, Harry, it was an accident, and I’m not at all embarrassed. Why should you be? Wait, what do you mean by either time? You didn’t take advantage of the situation when I was asleep, did you?” she teased.

Harry winked at her mischievously. “No, I didn’t, but thanks for the idea, ‘Mione…maybe next time!” earning himself a glare, then a grin, before he continued. “When I first tried to wake you up…uh…you rolled over, and you didn’t have a blanket over you, and, uh, that nightgown of yours…while it does cover all the important bits, it is rather sheer…and clingy. Even in the dim light…I saw…” but he didn’t complete his thought. “Of course I’m embarrassed, Hermione, remember – I’m a normal, healthy, apparently 19-year-old bloke…who’s just seen…well, most everything that most single blokes dream about seeing…and…you’re so…”

“Harry…what are you trying to say? That you really don’t think I’m ugly? You think I’m…”

“…beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, stunning, easy on the eyes, dishy…can I stop now?”

“No, tell me more…”she purred, putting her arms back around his neck and snuggling closer.

“…pretty, shapely, cute, ravishing…”

“Hmmm…now just who is it that sounds like they swallowed a dictionary…or rather, a thesaurus?” They laughed together as they remembered a conversation from when they first started getting to know each other during second year. “So, what’s the problem, Harry?”

“Well, after what Dumbledore said about…well, you know, I’m worried that…I’m not going to be able to get what I saw out of my mind…not that I want to, of course, but it makes it very difficult, sometimes…Hermione, will you PLEASE stop that?”

“What’s wrong, Harry?” she said as she sat up quickly, afraid that she was hurting him somehow.

“When you put your head on my shoulder like that…your breath…in my ear…well, it tickles...and it’s quite…er… stimulating, if you get my meaning, and I’m not sure what to do about it. You know, this all makes sense now after what Madam Pomfrey told us. I guess the fourteen-year-old in me wants to run away screaming because a ‘girl’ is sitting on my lap, but the nineteen-year-old REALLY doesn’t want to do that!”

“No kidding, Harry! I mean, at least now I know why I felt so strange around you sometimes as the months went on last year. Part of me is still this shy, nearly 15-year old bookworm of a girl living in the body of an older…more mature, young woman...” She slapped his shoulder playfully as he raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes suggestively. “Oh, stop that, Harry- you’re not helping!” she giggled.

“Hermione…please…giggling while you are sitting in my lap…not helping either…”

“Fine, then!” she pretended to pout as she moved to a nearby chair. “Better?”

“Yes…and no… as I tried to convince myself earlier, it’s safer, at least. Seriously, Hermione, could you tell me more about what Dumbledore was saying…you know, about waiting? I’m sure you’ve read something about the subject.”

“Oh, of course, Harry…it’s actually quite fascinating to read about. Do you want all the details, or just the summary?”

“Come on, Hermione…I think you already know the answer to that one.”

“Summary, then...” she chuckled knowingly. “Basically, according to the customs, if any magic-user wants to realize their full potential as a witch or a wizard, they must wait until after they get married to…how did Dumbledore put it? – ‘consummate their relationship.’”

“Thanks, Hermione, but I had already figured that much out. Surely there’s something else you can tell me? Like, a reason why this all matters, maybe? Like Dumbledore said, it sounds a bit old-fashioned, don’t you think? Surely not everyone in the Wizarding World follows those customs any more.”

“No, you’re right, Harry…some couples still do, but many don’t even bother any more, I suppose – it’s totally up to them. Obviously, no one checks to see if they waited, and there’s not even anything said at the time if they didn’t. No lighting bolt from the sky striking them down or anything!” she said with a wry smile.

“As to why it matters, well, it has to do with the promises made both before and during the wedding ceremony, I suppose. You know, of course, that a wedding ceremony in the Wizarding world is a special form of a binding magical contract.”

At his confused look, she sighed in frustration. “Honestly, Harry, don’t you pay attention in your classes? We’ll have to work on that together this year. Binding magical contracts are…well, let’s just say there can be serious consequences for misrepresenting yourself, or not following through – up to and including total loss of magical power in the more extreme cases. It all has to do with some very ancient and powerful magic that no one completely understands, but for the contract to be fully in force, the participants need to be “…pure in spirit, chaste in body, and sound in mind…” is how it is stated in the ceremony. But, in the cases where a betrothed couple does follow the ancient customs, swears honestly to their chastity, and goes through with the complete ceremony, the power available to them afterwards is quite impressive.”

“I still don’t get it, ‘Mione. What difference does someone saying some words in a wedding ceremony make, if the couple’s already in love? Isn’t that all that matters?”

She looked at him for a second as if she couldn’t quite believe him. “Harry… please think about what you just said…you are attending a wizarding school, you know! What difference does it make if you cast a spell without an incantation, but only perform the wand movements…especially when you are just beginning to learn?” He still looked puzzled. “Words have meaning, Harry…and they can be used to focus the power of the spell…or the wedding bond, for that matter, if you live up to the contract.”

A smile came over Harry’s face as he understood her point. “Thanks for explaining things. That helps a lot. But, just what will this mean to us? What kind of extra power are we talking about?”

She grew quiet for some time, lost in pleasant thoughts. Then, she reached over to his chair and took both of Harry’s hands in hers. “Harry, remember what happened when you summoned your Patronus last spring, and you put your arms around me when we were sitting on the stag?”

“As if it were yesterday…” he said quietly, the memory causing a pleasant shiver to pass through him as he looked into her eyes.

“Do you remember what happened then?”

“Yes…the stag’s power seemed to surge…and he was able to walk around with us on his back.”

“That’s right, Harry, If I remember right, afterwards you said ‘When I was holding you just then, it was as if…you were helping me keep it going…as if you were sharing your magic with me.’ ” Again, he nodded. “You know me, Harry, always the student. What you said there, while very sweet and romantic, got me to thinking…and when I need to think, I…”

“…head for the library…I know! So, what did you find out? Seriously, I don’t mind a lecture, as long as you’re the teacher!”

“Thanks, Harry…that really means a lot to me.” Her eyes sparkled at the compliment. “In the library, I found a fascinating Arithmancy book on this very subject and Madam Pince let me take it home over the summer after I swore I’d be careful with it. Remember, when we told Harmony about our date at the Quidditch World Cup, and I asked her about the values she used in the formula? Where do you think I got the formula to begin with? But, to make a long story a little shorter, you were exactly right – since we are both, I assume, ‘…chaste in body…’she looked at him questioningly, and he nodded quickly – “Good…same here!” she continued, smiling happily. “-we were able to actually share our magic very effectively, and we didn’t even know what we were doing. Based on what I read in the text, if we are successful in doing what the Headmaster asked us to do, what we saw then is just a glimpse of what we can do…together. You don’t remember this because you were still petrified, but that is why I lost my temper with Harmony and Dumbledore when they asked me to ‘cool’ it. I understood why they were asking me, because they were concerned about us going too fast, but I also knew that there was no possible way I could go back to being ‘just friends’ with you. After all that has happened to us, with the bond we have, the only way that would be possible is if I stayed completely away from you, and I’m sure we need each other more than that. We’ll just have to be very careful not to go too far, okay, Harry? It’s going to be hard for both of us, I know, but just think of what we’ll have…together, if we wait.”

It was Harry’s turn to be lost in thought for a moment. “Why does this still worry me so much, Hermione? No, not the ‘together’ part…” he said quickly as she started to say something, “…that’s not a problem for me. It goes back to ‘how’ and ‘why’? First, how is it that I am five years older than I should be? At least your being two years older makes sense, but what happened to me? Then, why does Dumbledore think we’ll need all this extra power? I mean, we haven’t heard anything from Voldemort… oh, stop that, will you?!” Hermione had involuntarily shuddered at the name, earning her a reproving glance from Harry, “…for years now, so what could possibly happen that would be all that bad?”

“I don’t know the answer to any of your questions yet. I just hope we don’t have to find out the ‘why’ for a while, at least…as to the ‘how’… I’m sure we’ll have to look into that as soon as we can get to the library. Now, we do need to talk about something else…do we keep our relationship quiet, as Harmony and the Headmaster recommended, or what?”

“Don’t ask me, Hermione…it’s that whole conflict thing again. The fourteen-year old part of me barely can accept that he might fancy a…girl…while the older me wants everyone to know about us. That’s especially true when it comes to the blokes, so they’ll keep their eyes and their hands to themselves around you! I have a feeling that after they see you this year your picture will replace Miss Puckle’s on the walls of some of the older boys’ dorms. That reminds me…don’t let that Creevy kid anywhere near you with a camera – that must have been how that picture of her down at the lake came about.”

“So…you honestly think I’m prettier than Harmony? And all this time I thought you had a crush on her like all the other boys.”

“Hmmm…let me think about that for a second…” he teased, earning himself a light slap. “OW...that hurt!” he said, pretending to clutch his arm in pain. “Well, I guess I’d better watch how I answer your question. Let’s see… I much prefer brown hair over black, or red, for that matter, and blue eyes are just so…not you, I guess, so I’d have to say, yes, I think you are much prettier than Harmony! Besides, she’s too old for me. But, my dear Miss Granger, we still need to decide if we’re going to keep this quiet or not.”

Hermione sat back in her chair and bit her lower lip as she thought about it for a moment. “The only person I would want to tell would be Ginny, I suppose. She’s been a very good friend to me, so that means you’d probably have to tell Ron…”

“Ron? Why him? What does he have to do with it? I mean he’s not that good of a friend… although, with the change in houses, he may just end up that way. But, I still don’t think that we need to tell Ron…” he said as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung wide.

“Tell me what, Harry?” a lanky, red-headed boy came in, followed closely by Argus Filch.

“Never you mind, Weasley!” the old caretaker said gruffly. “You don’t want to spend another night in detention with me, do you?”

“N…N…No sir…I don’t, sir.” Ron stuttered.

“Mark my words, next time I’ll bring out the chains if I catch you out of your dorms so late again!” Filch snarled as he left the common room. As the portrait closed, Ron added a few earthy comments that he wouldn’t have dared say with an adult in the room.

“RON WEASLEY! There are ladies present! Didn’t your mother teach you better than that?” Hermione said as she stood up.

“Oh, hi, Hermione. I didn’t see you there in that chair. Sorry about that!” he said half-heartedly. “Good to see you made it to the Tower last night, Harry! I had almost made it to McGonagall’s office to get help when that bloody…” and he used another impolite term.

“RON!”

“…Sorry again, Hermione, but I just think of you as one of the guys, you know…”

Both Harry and Hermione reacted quite differently to his matter-of-fact statement. Harry’s face had a look of unbelief, while Hermione looked like she was going to kill him.

Harry broke the uncomfortable silence. “Are you mental, Weasley, or just blind? If you think that Hermione is just one of the guys, I’m very worried about you! By the way, Ron, thanks to you I ended up petrified in the Hospital Wing last night! Not that I really minded, all things considered…” he said as he winked at Hermione, “but I wish you wouldn’t have run off like that. You were SUPPOSED to be showing me to the common room entrance, you know!”

“Petrified? How did that happen?” Ron asked quickly.

“A bunch of hooded goons jumped me right after you left…and they all hit me with a Full-Body-Bind. Miss Puckle had come over to talk to you and couldn’t find you in the Tower. Fortunately, when she was walking back to her quarters she found me and took me to see Madam Pomfrey.”

“M…Miss Puckle…wanted to talk to me?” Ron said with a dreamy expression on his face. “No offense, Hermione, but there’s someone who I wouldn’t mistake for one of the guys! She’s…quite a looker, eh, Harry? That picture of her…lying face down next to the lake, trying to get an all-over tan… mmm…she’s even prettier than Madam Rosmerta.” His face had turned as red as his hair as he remembered some of the details of the magical photograph.

While Hermione snorted in disgust, Harry said, grinning “To each their own, I suppose. Hey, Ron… Hermione and I were just talking about something that you might be interested in. Can you keep a secret? I mean, REALLY keep a secret?”

“Sure, Harry, what is it? I know how to keep my mouth shut – I grew up covering for the twins, you know!”

“I was just wondering…would it bother you if I told you I fancied…Hermione?” Harry was not prepared at all for Ron’s reaction.

“You WHAT? Blimey, now that’s mental, Harry! Why would you fancy Hermione? I mean…she’s so…”

“Out with it, Ron. Just what am I?” Hermione stared menacingly at him.

“Er…well…you’re so…you, I suppose. I’ve just never really thought of you that way, I guess. It’s not like I’ve ever spent that much time dreaming about you, you know.”

As he saw the anger rising in his girlfriend’s eyes, Harry thought it would be a good time to change subjects. “Just look at the time! We’d better get down to breakfast and get our schedules. But, Hermione, I want to continue our conversation later...alone.”

“Yes, Harry… I just remembered something you said a while ago, I need to talk to you about it, too.”

. . . . .

While Harry and Hermione were having their talk in the common room, there was a different, but related conversation going on in the Headmaster’s private office.

“Ah, yes, the start of a new school term…and here we are once again, meeting to discuss Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily as Harmony sat in her regular place. “Fawkes,” he said to the bright-plumed phoenix, “…please invite Minerva to come to my office. We need to let her know what has happened to her students.” With a bright flash, the bird disappeared.

When the head of Gryffindor House finally arrived and saw Miss Puckle already there, her first words were, “I assume this has something to do with my new ‘transfer student’? Surely he’s not in trouble already?”

“No, he’s fine, now…but he did spend the night in the Hospital Wing with Miss Granger. I apologize for not telling you sooner, but since he was in no danger I did not find it necessary to wake you.”

“I appreciate that, Albus. With all that we are going to be dealing with this year, I’m sure I could use one last night of uninterrupted sleep. I still don’t agree with your decision to let the ersatz Moody remain at school, by the way. What caused him to need Poppy’s services?”

“He was attacked in the hall not too far from Gryffindor Tower by more than one person using the Full-Body-Bind, according to our Head Nurse.” As he saw her angry reaction to the news, Dumbledore continued quickly “However, Miss Granger was able to bring him out of it quicker than we expected, so he will be ready for his classes this morning. And, Minerva, before you accuse me once again of not taking care of Harry, I have already started the investigation into the identity of his attackers. In answer to your obvious question, no, I doubt that our ‘simulated’ Alastor was in any way responsible, since I am keeping a close watch on him through various means. I have explained my reasoning to you on this subject previously, and I am certain we must not interfere. But, that is of less importance than what happened as a result of the attack. When Poppy was examining him, she discovered evidence that he has been exposed to a time-reverser field with a 5-year time shift. Of course, she felt she had to tell him about this soon after she told Hermione that she had aged two years’ subjective time. So, unfortunately, I feel it is only a matter of time before the three of them start asking hard questions about what could have caused Harry’s change, and I’m not sure what we should tell them.”

“Yes, knowing our Poppy, she’s bound to figure it out soon. I think it is time to bring her into our confidence, since she is bound by her healer’s oath to keep these things private. As to Harry and Hermione, any ideas, Harmony? After all, you should probably know her best.”

“Actually, that’s what’s bothering me. I’m not sure I do know her all that well any more. I mean, when I used the time-turner in my timeline, I obeyed ALL of the rules…” As she saw the look that Albus gave her, she hastily said “…well, almost all of them…but I surely didn’t repeat more than two years subjective time. It was closer to six months, if I remember correctly. But, of course, I had more help with Buckbeak’s defense, and I was a little less likely to spend repeated hours in the library since I had Harry and Ron to drag me out more often. No, she’s definitely a different person in many ways than I was. She’s much more confident with Harry, for one thing, and less enamored of Ron…” Harmony smiled guiltily, knowing that she was a major reason for that change in Hermione. “And, after hearing what Poppy said to them when she didn’t know we were listening, I’m still not sure that’s not for the best.”

“Yes, I just hope you are correct in your supposition,” Albus sighed. “They are quite formidable as a couple, aren’t they? I am still concerned, however, that they are not yet ready for what will face them this year. I fear greatly for their safety…and their happiness, especially if Voldemort becomes aware of their relationship. I hope that they are able to keep it as private as possible. Minerva, both Harmony and I have asked them to be discreet. Maybe if the request also came from their Head of House, they would comply easier. I’m sure they will tell someone, most likely Ron and Ginny Weasley, so you might bring them all in to discuss this soon.”

“Surely, Albus. I’ll invite them to meet with me as soon as possible; and I’ll invite Poppy down to the Three Broomsticks for a chat over drinks soon and explain the situation to her, if that meets with your approval?” Dumbledore nodded, glad that McGonagall had volunteered to break the news to her friend. “Now, that leaves us with what to do about Harry and Hermione.”

“Yeah, too bad Gilderoy isn’t around still…we could use a couple of good memory charms right now!” Harmony said to her two mentors jokingly. But, when she noticed they weren’t laughing, her jaw dropped. “No…surely not…you can’t be seriously considering…”

. . . .

Heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead in the Great Hall as Harry, Ron and Hermione examined their new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

“Today’s not bad…outside all morning,” said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. “Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures…damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins… Harry, you’d better be careful today. I’m sure Malfoy’s not going to let your new status go without trying something.”

“Yeah, I know…I’ll be keeping my eye out for them.” Harry said as he continued to look at his schedule. “Double Divination this afternoon…”

However, Malfoy was uncharacteristically well-behaved during Hagrid’s class that day, except for a few remarks about the usefulness of blast-ended skrewts. When Harry thought about it, and much as he hated to admit it, Draco’s evaluation was probably very accurate. After surviving his first Divination class of the term, he and Ron headed back for dinner with Hermione. They had just joined the queue with the other students in the entrance hall when a loud voice rang out behind them. “Weasley! Hey, Weasley!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking very angry about something.

“What?” said Ron shortly.

“Just giving you fair warning. If you know what’s good for you, you and your little sister better stay clear of that scar-headed house traitor and that filthy mudblood wench he seems to want to bed. I’d hate to see two purebloods, even one from a blood traitor family such as yours, get caught in the crossfire on accident! What do the Muggles call it? Oh, yes, ‘collateral damage’ – such a useful phrase…but very descriptive.”

“What are you on about, ‘Golden Boy’?” Harry said sharply, angry at his implied threat against Hermione. “What makes you think you’ve got the stones to pull off a threat against me – by yourself, anyway? Now that I think about it, I’d almost swear that one of the hooded goons that attacked me last night was wearing robes just like yours…I’m sure the Headmaster would be interested in that observation, eh, Draco?” he finished, turning away.

“BANG!

Several people screamed – Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face – he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he’d even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.

“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”

Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry – at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

“Did he get you?” Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.

“No,” said Harry, “missed.”

“LEAVE IT!” Moody shouted.

“Leave – what?” Harry said, bewildered.

“Not you – him!” Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody’s rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

“I don’t think so!” roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. “I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,” growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…”

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

“Never – do – that – again –” said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

“Professor Moody!” said two voices, one sounding shocked, while the other sounded as if she was having some trouble controlling her giggles.

Professor McGonagall and Miss Puckle were coming down the marble staircase, carrying a large pile of books between them.

“Ladies…” said Moody calmly, nodding his head at the two while bouncing the ferret still higher.

Harmony could no longer stifle her laughter, so she hurried over towards the trio, trying to appear as if she were concerned about their well-being. <Wouldn’t have missed a chance to see that scene again for anything...> she thought happily as she winked at her younger self.

(A/N – For those of you who wonder why I am writing this fic to be a “chastity-before-marriage” based H/Hr relationship, I am just following my interpretation of JKR’s own comments on the subject. Here’s a section from a well-known interview she had with Katie Couric, found at http://www.quick-quote-quill.org/articles/2003/0620-dateline-couric.htm

<snip>

Couric: “Any snogging with Hermione?”

Rowling: (slight frown) “Hermione and Harry! Do you think so?”

<snip>

Couric: We should probably explain that snogging means kissing.”

Rowling: “Yeah.”

Couric: “Lest people think they were shagging!”

Rowling: “Lest people think you’re talking about something completely inappropriate.”

So, I take that to mean that any shagging between the two would have to be considered very OOC/AU, and I am trying to stay as close to canon characterizations as I can with this story. Now, don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying that other authors here can’t write the relationship the way they choose to, at whatever rating they feel comfortable with, but in this story I will stick to a PG-13 rating, since I too am “Keeping a Promise”. However, since they ARE hormonal teenagers, I’m sure they will be tempted - often - over the rest of this story, but it won’t ever go past JKR’s “line in the sand”. So, if you’re reading along hoping for that scene, sorry to disappoint you! Actually, I’ll be very surprised if canon Harry and Hermione will get married until after the final battle with Voldemort, -assuming of course that they both survive :-(

As to the chapter title - Furonem, I understand, is Latin for thief – and is the root word for ferret, while pulsum is Latin for a repeated beat, push, impulse, or blow, so that’s my guess as to what Moody’s spell was!)

Chapter 35 – A Promise Renewed

“…so, my friend, that’s the whole, hard-to-comprehend story.” Professor McGonagall said to Madam Pomfrey. She had invited the healer to meet at the Three Broomsticks right after she had finished dealing with Moody’s unorthodox method of discipline before dinner earlier that afternoon. They were seated in a back room, well-protected by extensive privacy charms – along with Madam Rosmerta guarding the entrance to the hallway. By this time, Minerva, with the help of a Pensieve, had been able to quickly retell Harmony’s story and the events to this point. The head nurse watched and listened quietly, but saying nothing as she took in all the facts. Minerva smiled wryly at the nurse as she continued. “So, how does it feel, Poppy, to be part of an alternate reality – a ‘time loop’ as Albus refers to it? I for one don’t feel any different, do you?”

Madam Pomfrey sat back in her chair, lost in thought as she swirled her glass of gillywater slowly in her hand. Finally, she said, sadly. “And, if only I hadn’t told Mr. Potter the results of my examination, he would continue to remain confused, but clueless. Oh, Minerva, I apologize for that. I know now I should have checked with you or Albus first, but the results were just so…incomprehensible, I was hoping that Harry might have had a reasonable explanation for what I was seeing.”

“Now, Poppy, don’t go blaming yourself for any of this. Albus has been concerned for years that eventually you would have a reason to examine him, discover his secret, and given time, figure it out. We probably should have told you earlier, but now we need your help to solve a new problem. You see, Miss Granger, in her Harmony persona, is quite vocal in her opposition to a specific course of action related to Harry and Hermione. The ironic thing is that she jokingly brought up this very solution herself, and Albus and I began to seriously consider using a very selective memory charm on both Harry and Hermione. However, Harmony will not allow that to happen.”

Pomfrey immediately nodded her agreement. “And, from what you’ve told me now about the boy’s history, she’s right to be concerned. Harry has already withstood what amounts to a complete mind-wipe of five years of memories immediately after being attacked by not one, but two full-force Cruciatus Curses in the space of less than a day. He’s either very lucky or very powerful to survive that and still be able to speak coherently, not to mention fly a broom the way he does. I would recommend against any further use of the Obliviate spell on Harry Potter until he can be tested thoroughly in a few years. Besides, there is another complication you’re probably not aware of,” the healer said, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I alluded to this when I was talking to the two of them about my findings, but…”

Minerva’s eyebrow rose slightly. “Don’t tell me…they’ve already established the beginnings of a soul-bond, haven’t they?”

“Yes, the process is well under way, so any kind of a spell cast on one of them will affect the other. Also, remember that spell resonances of any kind in a newly forming bond, especially one as complex as this one, can have unexpected, possibly dangerous side effects.”

“But, why wasn’t either Hermione or Harmony affected when Harry was attacked, then? Surely they would have felt a combined Full-Body-Bind attack?”

“I think it was all a matter of timing in Hermione’s case,” the nurse said after thinking for a minute about what happened the previous night. “When I was working on her, part of the examination spell includes some powerful shielding charms, because the patient’s life force is exposed and can be vulnerable to attack during that time. By the way, that is when I knew that she was beginning to form a bond - the indicators were very obvious. Now that I think about it, I saw when Harry was attacked. I even mentioned it to Hermione – I saw a bright flare appear momentarily in her bonding indicators, and I said it didn’t look quite normal or some such. She wanted to know if something was wrong with her at the time. And, besides, she was affected - it just happened later. When she came to tell me that Harry was awake, I found out that she blacked out for a while in the hospital wing. When I asked her what happened, she confessed that she had kissed him on his scar, and was able to see his memories of the attack before she fainted. It appears to me that she drew off a good portion of the spell energy from Harry into herself through the bond by doing that, which is why he came out of it so quickly. I’m surprised she didn’t wake up with a terrible headache, but she didn’t mention it to me. As to Harmony, I’ll have to investigate that further.”

“That all sounds like a logical explanation for the younger Miss Granger, and seems to confirm that they are bonding. However, it does complicate matters. How are we going to keep the two of them from asking too many questions this year? Dumbledore is convinced that the safest course is to try as much as possible to re-establish the events of the original time line. This, unfortunately, includes getting Harry and Hermione back to a ‘good friend’ status, if possible. He’s concerned that ‘You-Know-Who’ would be very interested to find out that Harry is forming a soul-bond, based on Harmony’s description of what happens this year to Harry. That also means we have to not interfere with the other, horrible things I told you about, too. Poor Cedric…I can hardly bear to look at him since I heard his fate.”

“Minerva,” Poppy said, sadly, “remember, from the perspective of our Miss Puckle, he’s been dead for many years now. Don’t you think it’s probably as hard on her to see him alive again? Think how difficult this whole experience must be on Harmony mentally and emotionally – knowing what will happen and who will be hurt or killed…watching her younger self with Harry – that has to be especially tough on her, even with her knowledge of the situation. Has someone been looking out after her well-being during all this?”

“Yes, Poppy, both Albus and I have been extremely concerned. So, at his suggestion, I have been meeting with her informally to just talk things over for many years now, and I haven’t noticed any major emotional problems, although I admit I’m not an expert. But, you…you’ve had training in this area, haven’t you? Maybe it would be a good idea for you to have a chat with our time-traveler.”

“That is just what I was thinking. I’ll meet with her as soon as I can – maybe in this very room. It might allow our Harmony to loosen up a little if she were away from the castle when we talk. I’d also like to examine her aura if she’ll agree. I have some concerns of a different kind about her that I’d like to investigate.”

“Yes, I’m sure that she’d agree to that. But, we still don’t have a solution to our problem now that you agree we shouldn’t memory charm Mr. Potter, at least. Do you have any ideas?”

“Well, there is one way…we could give them a forgetfulness potion. It’s less damaging, obviously, and I could adjust the dosage so they will not remember much of the time in question in detail. I can also add something to temporarily deaden their forming soul- bond, which may just keep a certain Dark Lord from noticing it and taking action against Miss Granger…or Harmony, for that matter. However, the potion will wear off eventually, in less than a year most certainly, and they will remember everything again– and I doubt they’ll be too happy with us when they do.”

“Hmmm…well, let’s discuss it with Harmony and Albus. It’s not a perfect solution, but it may be the best option we have. You know, as long as they are all still alive at the end of this year to be mad at us, I’ll live with that. Let’s Floo back to the castle. It’s not too late to get this done tonight if we hurry!”

. . . . .

“Harmony, you have the final say on this decision. Not to put any pressure on you, but for the potion to be completely effective in only affecting the memories in question, it would be best if it were given to them tonight.” Albus said quietly.

“Yes sir, I understand. Now that you have passed on Madam Pomfrey’s assurance that neither one’s memory nor the soul-bond will be permanently damaged, I know that this is the only way to address your concerns about Voldemort. By the way, before I came here I talked to Hermione and she confirmed that only Ron and Ginny have been told about their relationship now, so you’ll only need four doses. We’ll have to get permission from Arthur and Molly, I suppose.”

“I’ll see to that personally via the Floo Network. I’ve already thought of a reasonable explanation, which I won’t go into now. Now, Minerva, I suppose it is time to gather the four of them. Now make sure you don’t mix the potions up when Poppy brings them to you – we wouldn’t want the wrong couple to get the soul-bond suppressant.”

. . . . .

“Welcome, all of you, to my office. Sorry that I called you in so late, but it was the only time I could fit you in. So, how are the four of you enjoying the year so far? Yes, I know it’s a bit early to evaluate the year after only one day of classes, Miss Granger. In case you’re curious, Mr. Malfoy will suffer no lasting damage. Oh, honestly, Mr. Weasley, that remark was uncalled for! Regardless of your feelings for him personally, he is a fellow student at Hogwarts. Mr. Potter, are you settling in to your new accommodations? Mr. Weasley is taking care of you, then? That’s great news. I admit I’ve been concerned about your safety for quite some time now. I just had a thought… I’d like to propose a toast to your new status. Here’s some freshly chilled pumpkin juice. Hermione, why don’t you take that one…that’s right, everyone raise their glass… To Harry, our new seeker – may he bring the Quidditch cup to Gryffindor! That’s right, drink it down… good…What’s that you say, you’re not feeling too well? All four of you? That’s strange…maybe you should head back to your dormitories right away. Oh, that’s quite alright, Miss Weasley – you can come back some other time. See you in the morning!”

. . . . .

After barely making it back to their respective beds, all four Gryffindors experienced a very restless, but dreamless, sleep that night. They woke up the next morning not even remembering that they had been in Minerva’s office the previous night. Truth be told, they could barely remember that they had already been through their first day of classes except for an incident involving a ferret and Professor Moody which still brought a smile to their faces.

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness, not only against Harry but against all Gryffindor students over the summer, gave Neville a horrible detention. Neville returned from it in a state of both nervous and physical collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads and scrub the floor of the potions dungeon with a toothbrush.

“Any ideas why Snape’s in such a bad mood?” said Ron to Harry as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails. “I know that he’s not too happy about you transferring out of his house, but is there anything else that you can think of that might set him off?”

“Yeah, said Harry. “Moody.”

*****

“Ah…there you are, Miss Puckle! Thanks for canceling your evening class on such short notice to meet with me down here. Rosmerta, could you bring me my usual gillywater, and…what would you like, my dear?” Poppy said, cheerfully.

“Oh, just a butterbeer, if you please. I’ve never developed much of a taste for anything stronger.” Harmony admitted to Rosmerta as she magically filled their orders.

“Remember,” the proprietor said, smiling as she moved towards the door, “if you want a refill, just tap your wand twice on your empty glass. If you want to change your order, or you need something to eat, just tap on this menu next to what you want. Albus is picking up the tab, so don’t worry about that. And, now, I’ll leave you to it!” and with that, she closed the door.

“Harmony, if you please, could you arrange for a little more privacy for our conversation?” the nurse said, putting her finger to her lips.

“Surely, Madam Pomfrey,” and she performed the charms to make the room secure from eavesdroppers, either intentional or inadvertent.

“Poppy, if you please, Harmony. No need to stand on formality, is there? I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you here this evening. First, as you know, Minerva has told me your story, and I just want to tell you how wonderful I think you are for taking on this difficult task. But, since I’ve never been one to pull any punches, I’ll be frank with you. I am very concerned about you, my dear. Extended time-travel takes its toll, no matter how powerful of a witch you are, and I would like to examine you to make sure that you haven’t already suffered permanent damage. I’d like to run a diagnostic exam on you, just like the one I did for your younger self recently, and then I’d like to talk to you about some other concerns I have.”

“You do get right to the point, don’t you, Poppy. I was just realizing the other day that I hadn’t had any kind of medical evaluation for…well, YEARS now, and I thought I should probably ask you about it. So, that would be fine. What would you like me to do?” she said as Pomfrey transfigured the room to look just like her exam room at Hogwarts, complete with privacy curtains.

“Just change into this examination gown over there, and we can get started right away,” the healer said. “Oh, and by the way, you’ll need to release your appearance charms. They’ll interfere with my tests, and I’m sure you could use the rest, besides. They must be very draining to maintain all the time. I’ll need to compensate for the aging potion effects, though…how long did you say you shifted? You’re still taking the maintenance dose every night, of course?”

“Yes, every night. And it’s a ten year shift, Poppy”, Hermione winced at the memory of her nightly ritual as she started to change out of her faculty robes into the hospital-style gown. “You know, I doubt I’ll ever get used to that particular taste. It’s very unpleasant.”

“What are you talking about, my dear? Surely…no, don’t tell me that Albus is having you use the maintenance potion with the knotgrass and nettles in it? You’re right…that IS nasty. Before you go, I’ll tell you how to brew a newer formula that is just as effective but completely tasteless. Albus tends to stick with tried and true methods, you know. How are you coming in there?”

“Oh, I’m fine, although this gown is…well, a bit skimpy, isn’t it?” she said shyly from behind the curtains as she noticed the thin material and the open back held closed with a single tie.

“Ah…you’re just like your younger self was the other day. She seemed to be a bit shy at first around me, and she was even wearing her own night clothes, which, I dare say, cover much more than what you have on now. Funny, though, when she thought Harry was in danger, she was ready to go find him right then, no matter who might have seen her.” The old healer chuckled at the memory. “Fortunately, you brought Mr. Potter in right then, or else I’m sure Hogwarts’ rumor mill would have had quite a lot to talk about! Now, come on out. There’s no need to be modest around me.”

When Poppy saw her emerge from behind the screen, she gasped in amazement. “Hello, Hermione! It’s a pleasure to finally see you…although you are obviously a grown woman, you’re definitely Hermione Granger. I’ll have to hand it to you - those appearance charms you have been using are quite effective. If I didn’t know your story, I would never suspect the masquerade. But, from looking at how you’ll turn out, I’d say that Mr. Potter will be quite the lucky wizard to have you on his arm when the time comes!”

Immediately, tears formed in Hermione’s eyes as she heard this. “Oh, Poppy…why did you have to say that?” and she broke down, sobbing into her hands.

“Whatever did I say, Hermione?” Pomfrey said as she rushed to comfort her in a hug. “I meant that to cheer you up, you know…what’s wrong?”

Hermione sniffled loudly as she tried to regain her composure for a moment. “I know it’s s…silly for me to be…jealous, but it’s…just… so… hard…. sometimes… to see them…together…and me, with no one whom I…” and she let out another piteous cry.

As she continued to pat Hermione’s back, Poppy smiled knowingly. “Oh…I see. Well, I was afraid of that as soon as I heard your tale from Minerva. That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, actually. I wasn’t sure how I was going to bring up the subject, and you’ve made it easy for me! Now, tell me all about it. That’s right, blow your nose and wipe your eyes, and let’s see if we can figure things out. Let me guess…you’re wondering just which one of you is going to end up with Harry in the end, aren’t you?”

Hermione nodded weakly as she continued to sob. ”Uh, huh…sometimes, it’s all I can do to keep me from going over and slapping her, telling her that he’s MY bond-mate…For the first time in a long time, I made the stupid mistake recently of reaching out to his mind through the bond to calm him down. Now all I want to do is tell her to go away and leave us alone because I saw him first! Dumbledore has tried to explain it all to me and he even had Remus try, but the more I think about it, the more confused I get…” and once again, tears ran down her cheeks, this time silently.

“There, there, my dear…never fear. I think I know just the thing to help you. But first, I’d like to get this examination over with before you get chilled standing there wearing so little. Is that okay with you? It shouldn’t take long.”

Hermione nodded, still choking back a few sobs, but held still while the nurse conducted the magical examination. “Hmmmm…yes, well, that’s not surprising…but that definitely isn’t normal…” Poppy muttered under her breath as she observed Hermione’s aura in detail, until she discovered a unique pattern. “So…you have been injured, haven’t you?” Poppy walked around behind her patient and undid the tie on Hermione’s gown so she could get a better look. “Ah….there it is. Hermione, how’d you come by this scar? I saw this same pattern recently, but I didn’t have time to investigate further. It looks like you got it quite some time ago, but that may be related to the effects of the aging potion.”

Hermione craned her head over her shoulder trying, but failing, to see what Poppy was referring to. “What does it look like?”

“Oh, here. Take a look in this mirror. Do you see it? Right here, in the middle of your lower back?”

“Oh…now I can see it…there it is…rather rough-looking, isn’t it? I remember now…when I was little, maybe four or five at the most, I was down at the play park near my home one summer and I fell backwards out of a swing when I was going pretty high and fast. My foot got caught in the chains and I was dragged back and forth across the gravel a few times. Some of the rocks must have been sharp, because I remember I was bleeding something awful when my dad picked me up and took me home. I think he was more scared than I was. Fortunately, it wasn’t serious – even though that scar does look pretty horrid once you look at it closely. Should I be worried?”

“Of course not, Hermione. I’m sure we all have ‘war wounds’ like that from when we were little. Mine happens to be a burn scar in a most embarrassing location…I lost my balance and fell backwards onto a lit woodstove when I was about two – sat right on the grill – left some very interesting X-shaped burn scars. My family teased me for many years about my “Hot Cross Buns… Quite the painful memory, even now,” she said with a grin. Then, Pomfrey’s tone had turned serious. “Enough of that. I’m finished with the examination – go get dressed, and then we need to talk.”

Hermione went back behind the screen and began to dress, doffing the gown and, pulling her robes quickly over her head as she talked, completely caught up in her “student” persona. “What is it, Poppy? Did you see something wrong just now? I’m not coming down with something, am I? I’d hate to have to miss any time teaching this first week of class. I assumed you wouldn’t have a diagnosis for me until tomorrow, after you’ve had a chance to analyze the data.”

“You are correct, my dear. But, remember, that’s not exactly what I want to discuss with you. I seem to remember a rather emotional display coming from you a while ago and as I said then, I think I may just be able to help.”

Hermione came out into the room, which Poppy had restored back to its original appearance. “Yes, well, I admit I have a bit of a problem when it comes to that subject. I just wish I knew why.”

Pomfrey answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s simple…you’re still deeply in love with Harry Potter, and since you can’t do anything about it, it’s literally tearing you apart. By the way, even though I don’t need to analyze any data to confirm this, your aura shows that you have been deliberately blocking the bond, which is why you weren’t affected when Harry was attacked – that clears that question up. Also, I imagine that besides everything you are going through with Harry and Hermione, your emotional state in other areas is pretty fragile with all the other things you’ve had to face these past few years. The death and pain you know about and are unable to share, with no really close friends to unburden yourself to.”

“But, Albus and Minerva…” Hermione started to say in protest, but Poppy interrupted her.

“…have been wonderful, I’m sure. But, they aren’t who you need, are they, Hermione?”

After a moment’s pause, the tears again started to flow silently down her cheeks. “No, Poppy, they aren’t…You know who I need, as do I…but, she needs him, too. And that is my problem – I can’t see how both of us can have what we need…and I fear it may kill me if I have to give him up to my younger self. But, if…that’s what I have to do to fulfill my promise to keep Harry safe…and happy, there’s no question that I will do that…for him.” she said, as her eyes flashed brightly.

“Hermione, that was a beautifully expressed sentiment, and I can tell that you are sincere, but what if I told you that any sacrifice of that nature was completely unnecessary?” At Hermione’s stunned look, Pomfrey smiled and continued with a phrase that would be part of Hermione’s favorite memories for years to come. “Let me explain…”

*******

The students of Hogwarts quickly settled into a normal routine for the term, although some did notice that Miss Puckle seemed to be particularly happy no matter what she was doing. She always had a smile on her face, and was usually found humming a happy tune when she wasn’t teaching. Some speculated that she must have found a new “someone special” earlier in the year at Hogsmeade, because she was seen walking back from the village that first week looking for all the world like she was walking on air. The Headmaster, his assistant, and the school nurse all knew that her love interest, while quite special to all of them, was no one new to her.

On the other hand, Harry and Hermione’s relationship seemed to change about the same time. After they had been seen sharing a compartment on the school train both at the end of third year AND at the beginning of fourth, the rumor mill was actively speculating on how long it would be before they were caught snogging in the common room. But, the day after Moody’s legendary transformation of Malfoy, they seemed to go back to being just close friends. Miss Granger, of course, was seen quite frequently in his company, but they were joined just as frequently by Ron Weasley, even after she started her S.P.E.W. campaign. From time to time, a careful observer might have noticed Harry looking quite wistfully at Hermione as she sat across from him in the Great Hall, but then he would shake his head slowly and return to his meal. The three of them were nearly inseparable, and some even started referring to them as ‘the trio…” When Miss Puckle overheard this in class one time, she quickly turned away so her students would not see the big grin on her face she thought to herself, <Yes, things are getting back on track in this timeline…Oh, I hope that Poppy is right! She just has to be!>

******

Time seemed to pass very quickly from then on. At the end of October the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived. This was followed by the shocking events that led to a second champion from Hogwarts, resulting in a major rift developing between Harry and Ron and an equally strong show of support from Hermione. From then on, the two of them were once again the subject of a few rumors linking them romantically, since they were seen together frequently walking around the lake in deep conversation. But, it was also known that Hermione spent time alone with Ron, too, apparently trying to talk some sense into him.

Finally, it was the Sunday morning before the first task. Harry had just awoken after spending the night out, first with Hagrid who had shown him the dragons, and then talking with Sirius in the fireplace until they were interrupted by Ron. He was still quite upset with his roommate, but he didn’t say anything to Hermione or Ginny when he joined them at the Gryffindor table. Feeling too queasy to eat, Harry waited until Hermione had swallowed her last spoonful of porridge, and then dragged her out onto the grounds. There, he told her all about the dragons, and about everything Sirius had said, while they took another long walk around the lake, the first of three they would do that day as they tried to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon.

The next day, Harry found himself running quickly to Herbology from Professor Moody’s office. Moody, after declaring that he wasn’t going to show favoritism, had finally given Harry the hint that he needed to succeed the next day. He was best at flying. He needed to pass the dragon in the air. For that, he needed his Firebolt. And for his Firebolt, he needed –

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, when he had sped into the greenhouse three minutes later, uttering a hurried apology to Professor Sprout as he passed her. “Hermione – I need you to help me.”

“What d’you think I’ve been trying to do, Harry?” she whispered back, her eyes round with anxiety over the top of the quivering Flutterby Bush she was pruning.

“Hermione, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon.”

And so they practiced. They didn’t have lunch, but headed for a free classroom, where Harry tried with all his might to make various objects fly across the room…He wanted to skip Divination to keep practicing, but Hermione refused point-blank to skive off Arithmancy, and there was no point in staying without her.

*****

“That’s better, Harry, that’s loads better,” Hermione said, looking exhausted but very pleased…He raised his wand once more. “Accio Dictionary!”

The heavy book soared out of Hermione’s hand, flew across the room, and Harry caught it.

“Harry, I really think you’ve got it!” said Hermione delightedly.

*****

“Harry, you were brilliant!” Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. “You were amazing! You really were!”

But Harry was looking at Ron, who was very white and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

“Harry,” he said, very seriously, “whoever put your name in that goblet – I – I reckon they’re trying to do you in!”

*****

“Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?”

Professor McGonagall’s irritated voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class. With an angry glare at the pair, she continued. “Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age, I have something to say to you all.”

(A/N – As you noticed, I covered a LOT of canon chapters from GOF in this one, only highlighting some key moments that I think are important. By the way, when I was researching a throwaway joke I wanted to use in this chapter, I came across a VERY interesting article titled A history of hot cross buns. I didn’t realize that they have been around for many centuries, and span many cultures, but now I know!)

Chapter 36 - A Ball and a Brawl

A week ago, Harry would have said finding a partner for a dance would be a cinch compared to taking on a Hungarian Horntail. But now that he had done the latter, and was facing the prospect of asking a girl to the ball, he thought he’d rather have another round with the dragon.

“Why do they have to move in packs?” Harry asked Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past them, sniggering and staring at Harry. “How’re you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?”

“Lasso one?” Ron suggested. “Got any idea who you’re going to try?”

Harry didn’t answer. He had actually considered two girls he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t seem to maintain his focus when he thought about either of them. Whenever he saw or even thought about Cho Chang, the pretty Seeker for Ravenclaw, almost immediately he would feel very sad for her, as if he knew she had lost someone close to her. Then, images of a teary-eyed, angry Cho would fade in and out of his consciousness. “Why is it that I always think of being cried on when I’m around her? I must be nutters…well, maybe I should just forget about her.”

And then, there was Hermione. As soon as McGonagall had announced the Ball and that Harry was required to take someone, an image of Hermione wearing a stunning periwinkle-blue dress < …periwinkle? Now why on earth would I know what that color was called? But it sure looks nice on her! > came to his mind, standing by…someone, hidden in the shadows, who obviously wasn’t Harry; and he felt a wave of jealousy and…anger surge over him. <Blimey, Harry, get a grip! Why would you be feeling this way about Hermione? She’s just a friend, you know! And that’s all she’ll ever be!> But then, he heard a voice in his head that sounded just like Hermione say very clearly, “Oh, you! Just shut up and kiss me, Harry!”

That pleasant memory was interrupted by Ron. “Harry, you okay? You had the silliest grin on your face just now, and your eyes closed, and you…looked like you were kissing someone. Quite enthusiastically, too…So, who was she?” he said, cheekily.

“Who was who? I was NOT kissing anyone!” Harry said, blushing.

“Sure, Harry. I believe you. Now, back to the girl – you were thinking about a girl just now, weren’t you? Who was it? Cho? She’s quite the looker, eh? Or Susan Bones? Nah… it must have been Millicent Bulstrode!” And with that, he ran off quickly before Harry could retaliate.

“Why, you…WEASLEY! I’ll get you for this!” Harry yelled as he ran off in pursuit, his pleasant memory quickly forgotten in the chase.

* * * * *

“So… you lot got dates for the ball yet?” said Fred Weasley.

“Nope,” said Ron.

“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” said Fred.

“Who’re you going with, then?” said Ron.

“Angelina,” said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

“What?” said Ron, taken aback “You’ve already asked her?”

“Good point,” said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, “Oi! Angelina!”

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.

“What?” she called back.

“Want to come to the ball with me?”

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.

“All right, then,” she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.

“There you go,” said Fred to Harry and Ron, “piece of cake.”

He got to his feet, yawning, and said, “We’d better use a school owl then, George, come on…”

They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked across the smoldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.

“We should get a move on, you know…ask someone. He’s right. We don’t want to end up with a pair of trolls.”

Hermione let out a sputter of indignation.

“A pair of …what, excuse me?”

“Well – you know,” said Ron, shrugging. “Id rather go alone than with – with Eloise Midgen, say.”

“Her acne’s loads better lately – and she’s really nice!”

“Her nose is off-center,” said Ron.

“Oh I see,” Hermione said, bristling. “So basically, you’re going to take the best-looking girl who’ll have you, even if she’s completely horrible?”

“Er – yeah, that sounds about right,” said Ron.

“I’m going to bed,” Hermione snapped, and she swept off toward the girl’s staircase without another word, joining a group of other girls who were also retiring.

Ron looked at Harry, stunned. “What’d I say? I just told her the truth! Aren’t girls supposed to like openness and honesty in a bloke? So, I tell her the honest truth about what I’m feeling, and she storms off. I’m telling you, Harry, she’s mental. Well, I’m going to go see if I can find out what Fred and George are up to. Something fishy’s going on with those two…and I’d love to catch them at it!” he said as he got up from his chair. “See you later!”

“Yeah, see you, Ron…” As Ron left the common room, Harry sat there, oblivious to the conversations swirling around him as he was lost in serious thought. Finally, he reached a conclusion. He grabbed a quill and some parchment out of his bag. After writing a few lines, he folded it, wrote a name on the outside, and sealed it with a tap of his wand as he muttered a privacy charm. The name quickly disappeared as the charm took effect.

“Oi! Angelina!” he called, trying to sound as much like Fred as possible.

Angelina giggled as she got up from her chair, walked over to him, and whispered, “Sorry, Harry, Fred’s already asked me…maybe next time?” she said teasingly.

“Next time? What are you talking about?” he said, puzzled. “Oh…no, sorry, Angelina, I…I wasn’t asking you out…I just need a favor.”

“Sure, Harry. What is it? Anything for our Triwizard champion, you know!”

“Could you…well, promise not to tell anyone about this?” he said, indicating the note in his hand.

“About what? OOOH…let me guess… you’ve figured out who you want to ask to the ball then, and you’re asking her with a note…and you want me to sneak that note upstairs, but you don’t want me to know who it’s for, hence the privacy charm you have on it?

“Yes… except all the note does is ask her if she’ll come down to chat for a moment. I’m not sure she’ll go with me…and I’d rather not have anyone else know about it…you understand.”

“Of course, Harry. But, you don’t have to worry. I’m sure whoever it is will be honored to go with you! You’re Harry Potter, you know!” As his face fell, she realized how that must have sounded. “Sorry, Harry…I didn’t mean…”

“That’s the problem, Angelina!” he said, grimacing. “I just want someone to go with me who doesn’t care about my name…or the fact I’ve switched houses, or that I’m in the Triwizard Tournament…or that I’m the bloody Boy-Who-Lived!” he said with rising anger apparent in his voice.

“Steady on, Harry!” Angelina said hastily. “I said I was sorry! I think I understand what you must be going through, and I really do apologize. Now, I think I can help you with your problem. You wouldn’t have studied this in Charms yet, but Miss Puckle just taught us a more advanced version of the Privacy Charm – it not only seals itself until the addressee opens it, but it will deliver itself only to the person intended - it’s related to how the Owl Post owls always can find the right person, but it only works for distances of less than a few hundred meters. I can teach it to you, and then the note will take care of the rest. You could even wait until everyone has gone to bed and no one will even see you send the note.”

“Brilliant! That’s just what I needed, Angelina! And, I’m sorry I snapped at you…”

. . . .

Hermione sat on her bed, fully dressed, still stewing about Ron’s comments a good hour later. <Honestly…that boy is a real prat sometimes. So, all he’s interested in is looks, is he? I must not measure up to what he’s looking for, I suppose. And I’m sure he’s got Harry feeling the same way! BOYS!> She wiped her damp eyes on the cuff of her robes as she saw her face in the mirror. Before the mirror could make any comments, Hermione beat it to the punch. “Honestly, Hermione, get a grip! Just because Harmony told you way back in first year that she was turning heads by this time at her school, it doesn’t mean you will! Although I dare say my teeth look loads better now, thanks to Madam Pomfrey…and Mum sent me that beautiful new set of dress robes when I told her about the ball…it would be so nice to go there with…well, someone…and sometimes I just wish that he…er…I mean, someone…would ask me…”

The mirror immediately spoke up. “Well, my dear – although I’m not a wishing mirror, it looks to me like your wish is about to be granted. Isn’t that a private note coming up behind you?”

Hermione turned around and grabbed the note that was hovering next to her shoulder. “Oooh…it is!” and she tapped the note with her wand, saying clearly, “Hermione Jane Granger.”

The note flashed as it unsealed itself, and she greedily read the words that she had been hoping to see, in a familiar script.

Dear Hermione,

Could you come back down to the common room for a minute? I’d like to talk to you about something. I hope you’re not already in bed. If you are, just send a note back to me and I’ll see you some other time, I guess.

Harry

By the time she got to the name at the end, she was already halfway down the stairs.

“Harry, I got your note,” she said as she sat down next to him in the now deserted common room. “What do you want to talk to me about? You’re not worried about your potions exam, is it? I’m sure you’ll do fine, even if Snape seems to be taking it out on you particularly…”

Harry cut in, annoyed. “Will you please just hang on for a bit? No, Hermione…it’s not about my potions exam. I…well, I…er…was wondering…”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Wangoballwime?”

“Sorry?” said Hermione.

“D’you – d’you want to go to the ball with me?” said Harry. Why did he have to go red now? Why?

“Oh!” said Hermione, and she went red too. “Oh Harry…I’d love to!” as she leaned over and gave him a quick hug. As they touched, both of them felt…well, something…in their minds, but it quickly faded.

“Fine, then…that’s just fine…”Harry stammered, at a loss for words at what just happened. “So…I’ll pick you up…here…then, right?”

“Yes, Harry…I’m really looking forward to it.”

****

“Harry – we’ve just got to grit our teeth and do it,” said Ron, in a tone that suggested they were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress. It was the last day of the term, with exactly one week to go before the Yule Ball. “When we get back to the common room tonight, we’ll both have partners – agreed?”

“Er…okay,” said Harry. He hadn’t yet told Ron that he had already asked Hermione to the ball, because he wasn’t quite sure how Ron would handle the news when he found out just who Harry had asked. He even skipped dinner later when Ron dragged him along on his search that evening, since he had assumed that Harry was still looking for a partner. Finally, they made it back to their common room and sat down by Ginny.

“This is mad,” said Ron. “We’re the only ones left who haven’t got anyone – well, except Neville. Hey – guess who he asked? Hermione!”

“What?” said Harry, completely distracted by this startling news.

“Yeah, I know!” said Ron, some of the color coming back into his face as he started to laugh. “He told me after Potions! Said she’s always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff – but she told him she was already going with someone. “Ha! As if! She just didn’t want to go with Neville…I mean, who would?”

“Don’t!” said Ginny, annoyed. “Don’t laugh -”

Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.

“Why weren’t you two at dinner?” she said coming over to join them.

“Because – oh shut up laughing, Ron – because neither one of them can find a date for the ball!” said Ginny.

Harry looked for a second as if he were going to say something, but thought better of it as he saw Hermione wink at him.

“Thanks a bunch, Ginny,” said Ron sourly.

“All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?” said Hermione loftily. “Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone somewhere who’ll have you.”

But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.

“Hermione, Neville’s right – you are a girl…”

“Oh well spotted,” she said acidly.

“Well – it’s obvious - you’re coming with the two of us! Harry, you could walk in with her at the beginning, and then we could take turns dancing with her. You don’t mind sharing with me, do you, Harry?”

What Harry thought about that was never expressed, as Hermione stood up, walked over to Ron and yelled, “HOW DARE YOU! WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO MAKE THAT KIND OF DECISION WITHOUT ASKING WHAT I THINK ABOUT IT! BESIDES, I’M ALREADY GOING WITH SOMEONE!” and she stormed off to the girls dormitories again.

“Blimey, Harry, what’s got into her?” Ron said, stunned. “All I did was suggest a way we could all go to the ball together, and she comes unhinged. What did she say, though…she’s already going with someone? She’s lying!”

“She’s not,” said Ginny quietly.

“Who is it then?” said Ron sharply.

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t say, but I have a good idea,” said Ginny. Unnoticed by the boys, her eyes darted quickly over to Harry, and she looked extremely miserable for a second. “I think I’ll go and have dinner,” she said, and she got up and walked off to the portrait hole, her head bowed.

“Nah,” Ron continued rattling on to Harry. “She’s just saying that because she’s mad at us, I bet. I mean, who’d want to go out with Hermione…even if she is a girl? I’m sure she’d bore her date to death, rattling on about some arithmancy spell power analysis nonsense or something. That seems to be her favorite subject – can’t understand it for the life of me why anyone would want to study maths, especially a girl, unless she’s a total bookworm – like Hermione, come to think of it! Me, now I prefer the good-looking ones, don’t you, Harry? Hey, so I’m a shallow teen-aged wizard – so what? Bollocks…that means we’ll have to keep on looking. Any ideas, mate? Harry? You still here?”

“Wha…were you saying something, Ron? Sorry, I must have been thinking about something else.” Actually, as soon as Ron had mentioned arithmancy, Harry had remembered a long, strange vision of…riding a large stag around a picnic blanket, and seated on the stag with him was…someone – he couldn’t quite tell who because he was behind her with his arms around her. But, he could still smell her hair in his face…and the feel of her body warm against his…and it all seemed so familiar…

Ron snickered, “Yeah, like I said before, who was she? Honestly, mate, you’re going to have to stop daydreaming about whoever that girl is. People will think you’re in love or some such nonsense!”

But right then, Parvati and Lavender came in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action.

“Ron, there you go – ask one of them! I’ve already figured out who I’m going with so I’ve got some other business to take care of. When I get back, I’ll expect to hear you’ve asked someone or else I’ll sic Professor Moody on you – you don’t want to go to the ball as a ferret, do you?”

Ron pretended to shrink back in horror. “You wouldn’t…would you? Yeah, I guess you would! All right, mate, you win. You go take care of your business, and when you get back, I’ll have a date.”

As he left through the portrait hole, Harry said “That’s the spirit, Ron!” as he headed towards Professor McGonagall’s office.

After knocking on the door and being told to come in, he was surprised to see Miss Puckle already there. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, Professor. I’ll come back later.” Harry said politely.

Minerva waved him in. “Nonsense, Harry…I assume this has to do about your partner for the ball? You’ve made your choice, then? Who is it?”

“Yes, I have. I’ve asked Hermione to be my partner.”

At this, Harmony let out a small gasp, but quickly recovered and said nothing. Minerva controlled her surprise more effectively, but her eyes were dancing for a moment before she said. “Oh…I see…yes, that would be fine. Miss Granger will be an excellent representative of Gryffindor and Hogwarts. Good choice, Mr. Potter. I’m curious, though…why did you choose her?”

He blushed slightly as he remembered what he had seen in his mind that helped him make up his mind. After he thought for a moment, he said simply, “I’m not really sure, now that I think about it. It just…sort of happened, I guess. I mean, she’s been a good friend of mine and Ron’s for years now, and I wanted her to be able to go to the ball.”

“Very well, Potter. We will add her name to the program. Now, it appears that Miss Puckle and I have some additional business to discuss, and it’s getting late, so please excuse us. See you tomorrow, then.”

….

“Well, Minerva, that was…surprising, to say the least.” Harmony said as soon as Harry closed the door.

“How so, Hermione? Remember, Poppy did warn us at the time that the potion wouldn’t be as effective as an Obliviate spell would have been, and that its effects would wear off over time. It just appears that Harry’s subconscious is still fighting to break out. Did you see his reaction when I asked him why he chose her? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s probably having some more of those flashbacks –probably of what he missed out on by not taking you to the ball in your timeline. Fortunately, the part of the potion that numbs the soul bond has been proven to be more successful, which should mean that you and Miss Granger are still safe from the probings of a certain Dark Lord, at least for now until Harry is capable of fighting off what you’ve shown us is coming.”

Hermione nodded, and then she remembered something very important that was now obviously changed in from the original events. “Wait a minute, who is Viktor going to the ball with?”

***

“Hermione – who are you going to the ball with?” said Ron as they entered the Great Hall for dinner.

After Harry’s challenge earlier that week, Ron had ended up having to ask Padma Patil, since Parvati was going with George and Lavender was going with Seamus. But, he hadn’t been able to figure out who either Harry or Hermione was going with. Harry ignored his questioning, so he focused his efforts on Hermione by springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it. However, Hermione merely frowned and said, “I’m not telling you, you’ll just make fun of me.”

“You’re joking, Weasley!” said Malfoy, behind them. “You’re not telling me someone’s asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?”

“Harry and Ron both whipped around, but Hermione said loudly, waving to someone over Malfoy’s shoulder, “Hello, Professor Moody!”

Malfoy went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.

“Twitchy little ferret, aren’t you, Malfoy?” said Hermione scathingly, and she, Harry, and Ron went up the marble staircase laughing heartily.

Then, Ron saw Neville walking ahead of them and yelled, “Hey, Longbottom…want to have a go at a chess match? I’ll even spot you a couple of pawns!” and he ran ahead to talk with his next victim for a minute.

“Hermione,” said Harry, looking sideways at her, with a puzzled look on his face, “your teeth…”

“What about them?” she said.

“Well, they’re different…I’ve just noticed…”

“Of course they are – did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?”

“No, I mean, they’re different to how they were before he put that hex on you… They’re all…straight and – and normal sized.”

Hermione suddenly smiled very mischievously and winked at him conspiratorially. Harry noticed that it was a very different smile from the one he remembered…but then, the more he thought about it, this smile was very familiar, too. He just couldn’t put his finger on when he had seen her like this before.

“Well...when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were,” she said. “And I just…let her carry on a bit.” She smiled even more widely at him, and Harry once again felt something familiar stir in his heart, but it died out quickly as she continued. “Mum and Dad won’t be too pleased. I’ve been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces.” By this time Ron had returned, having scheduled his next chess match with his soon-to-be victim, as Hermione concluded, “You know, they’re dentists, they just don’t think teeth and magic should – “look! Pigwidgeon’s back!”

*****

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville changed into their dress robes up in their dormitory, all of them looking very self-conscious, but none as much as Ron, who surveyed himself in the long mirror in the corner with an appalled look on his face. There was just no getting around the fact that his robes looked more like a dress than anything else. In a desperate attempt to make them look more manly, he used a Severing Charm on the ruff and cuffs. It worked fairly well; at least he was now lace-free, although he hadn’t done a very neat job, and the edges still looked depressingly frayed as the boys set off downstairs.

“I still can’t work out how you and George got the best looking girls in the year,” muttered Dean.

When Harry heard this, he realized he had a difference of opinion on that subject, because he saw a clear vision of Hermione sitting on his lap, asking him “… you really don’t think I’m ugly? You think I’m…”

“…beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, stunning, easy on the eyes, dishy…can I stop now?”

“No, tell me more…”

Ron was jostling his elbow. “Harry…wake up, Harry! You’re fading out on me again. I think you should see Pomfrey about that or something. Anyway, I’ve got to go meet Padma down in the entrance hall. You and your date, whoever she is, need to go meet with the rest of the Champions so you can lead the procession. By the way, have you seen Hermione? If you see her, tell her we’ll save her and her date a place at our table, too. See you in a while, Harry!”

As the last of the Gryffindors exited the common room, Harry walked over to the girl’s stairs. “Hermione?” he called. “Where are you? Everyone else has left, and we need to get going. McGonagall wants the Champions and their dates to meet her in the hall five minutes early, you know!”

As he listened for a response, a timid voice came from the shadows of the stairwell. “Is…everyone else…gone?”

“Yes, they’ve all left. What’s going on, Hermione? Why don’t you come on out where I can see you? Please?” he said, worried that she had changed her mind about going with him. “Did something happen to your dress robes? Or did you break out in spots at the last minute?”

“N…no…nothing like that. I’m just worried that you won’t like what you see, I guess. I’m afraid I may have used too much Sleekeasy.”

Harry, who wasn’t quite sure what Sleekeasy was, laughed. “Oh, just come out here. I promise I won’t mind – no matter how awful you may look. Just teasing, Hermione! I’m sure you look fine.”

Actually, he reflected later, that was probably one of the biggest understatements he had ever uttered. As she shyly walked out into the light of the common room, Harry’s jaw dropped as he saw Hermione.

But she didn’t look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, <Just like I saw earlier…Forget about the nurse, I’m going to have to have a chat with Trelawney soon!> and she was holding herself differently, somehow – or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling – rather nervously, it was true – but the reduction in the size of her front teeth was more noticeable than ever; Harry couldn’t understand how he hadn’t spotted it before.

“Harry…is something wrong? I knew it! You don’t like it, do you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! That does it…you go on ahead without me. I’ll change into something less fancy and...”

Harry quickly protested, “Now, just hold on, Hermione! I was just surprised for a moment. You look….beautiful…and your hair is so…soft looking. You’d better not try to go anywhere, Miss Granger. I’d have to chase after you, and that would probably get us BOTH in trouble.”

“Harry, did you just call me…beautiful?” Hermione’s smile started to spread.

****

A few minutes later they hurried, flushed and slightly out of breath, into the entrance hall. Just then, they heard Professor McGonagall’s voice call out, “Champions over here please!” They saw her standing by the doors into the Great Hall, wearing dress robes of red tartan and a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat. Harry saw Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies station themselves nearest the doors, followed closely by Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. <Hope he doesn’t mind being cried on tonight…now where did that thought come from?>. Then he finally noticed Krum’s partner. For the second time that night, his jaw dropped as he saw something completely unexpected.

It was Harmony.

****

“Yes, I know that this may look somewhat strange, but Professor Dumbledore and Professor Karkaroff approved it under the circumstances.” Harmony, looking resplendent in dress robes of deepest sapphire blue that matched her eyes perfectly, along with Krum, had joined Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Padma at the table for dinner. Harry noticed that Ron kept on glancing, tight-lipped, at both Harry and Hermione as Harmony continued. “My good friend Viktor here”, she said, turning to her seatmate, “procrastinated a little too long and was not able to secure a partner for the grand procession. When the Headmaster and I found this out, we thought that under the circumstances I would be able to serve as his companion during the processional. Victor shares an interest in charms work, and we’ve gotten acquainted already this year, so I thought it was the least I could do. However, lest you think it is inappropriate, I assure you that we are not ‘on a date’. After the traditional first dance with the rest of the Champions, we are both free to go our separate ways for the rest of the evening…as are you all, of course.”

Harry could have sworn that Viktor looked somewhat disappointed at Harmony’s comments, but he recovered quickly and said “Vell, Miss Puckle, I vill enjoy your company tonight for as long as you vant to be here. Ve from the Durmstrang delegation vant to thank you for helping me in this. It would haff been a scandal in certain circles if I had not been able to find a …how you say, date, tonight. Professor Karkaroff vas quite unhappy with me for not making the necessary arrangements in advance, since he feels I haff plenty of vimmen that vould be villing to haff me escort them to this affair.” After quickly checking to make sure that Karkaroff was otherwise occupied, Viktor whispered to the group, “But, I am not interested in those kind of girls. They only vant to be near me because I am famous… and I vant to be vith someone who can talk to me about something other than Quidditch…or the latest trends in vimmen’s fashions. Miss Puckle, may I say that you haff been vunderfully charming to me ever since ve arrived at Hogvarts, so thank you again.”

Unseen by Krum who was facing Harmony as he said this, both Harry and Hermione caught Harmony’s eye and winked at her, causing her to blush.

“Thank you, Viktor - that was sweet of you. I’m happy to have been able to help you.” Harmony said. “But for now, it’s time to eat. What will you have?”

***

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry, who had been so interested in watching them that he had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were standing up.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered in his ear, “I think … we’re supposed to dance!”

Harry tripped over his dress robes as he stood up. The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; Harry walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone’s eye (he could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle making what appeared to be rude gestures at the two of them and sniggering)., and the next moment, Hermione had gently captured his hands, place one around her waist, and held the other in hers.

Harry soon found, after a bit of nervousness, that dancing with Hermione was as natural to him as flying. As he watched other champions and their partners closely and saw them do more than just revolve in a circle, he decided that he might venture a go at it, too; but he wasn’t sure what to do. As he looked in Hermione’s eyes, he could tell immediately that she understood his dilemma. She whispered quietly, “It’s okay, Harry, I’ve watched my Mum and Dad do this at home. Just follow what I’m doing,” and she led him in a basic waltz box step. When she saw he was comfortable with that, she showed him a few variations on the basic move, until the first song ended. They left the floor and went over to the table where Ron and Padma were sitting.

“How’s it going?” Harry asked Ron, sitting down and opening a bottle of butterbeer.

Ron didn’t answer, but once again Harry thought he saw him glare quickly at Hermione as they sat down. Padma was sitting with her arms and legs crossed, one foot jiggling in time to the music. Every now and then she threw a disgruntled look at Ron who was completely ignoring her. Hermione noticed this and tried to engage Ron in conversation, but he pretended that he couldn’t hear her over the music. Finally, Hermione took a hint and leaned over to Harry. “I dare say that Ron’s on about something…and I think it’s me. Do you want to try to talk to him, while Padma and I go have a chat?”

“Sure, Hermione…although I can’t imagine what Ron’s problem is.”

After the girls left the table, Harry soon found that Ron was not interested in talking to him, either, continuing to cup his hand behind his ear, while mouthing “I can’t hear you…” each time Harry tried. Finally, when he realized that Hermione hadn’t returned with Padma, he excused himself and went looking for them. First, he found Padma dancing with a boy from Beauxbatons, and then he saw Hermione sitting by herself with an empty chair next to her. As he sat down, Hermione smiled at him and said, “Sorry about that, Harry, but I could tell Padma was not having any fun, so I gave her an excuse to get out of there. I was hoping you’d come find us after a bit. So, did you ask? What’s wrong with Ron, anyway?”

“Beats me, Hermione. He still wouldn’t talk to me after you left, but he kept on looking at me, shaking his head and sighing. That was really starting to annoy me, so I left when I saw you hadn’t come back.”

“Hmmm…well, we can’t let his mood spoil the ball for us, now can we? How’d you like to learn a two-step? I dare say you’ll be better at it than Moody, merely because you have both of your legs!” she said, grinning and grabbing his hands as she stood up. “Then, if you’re interested, we can go for a walk outside to cool off.”

*****

By the end of the evening, Harry and Hermione were exhausted, but they were finding that they were rapidly becoming more than friends. They had been together all night, either dancing or sitting at a table and talking, while having a wonderful time in the Great Hall. They even had time to take a walk together in the moonlight. When they were outside, they had overheard Snape and Karkaroff talking, and then Hagrid and Madame Maxime, after which Hermione had to explain to Harry what the fuss was about as a strange looking beetle buzzed around their heads. Finally, when the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to wend their way into the entrance hall. Harry and Hermione both joined the vocal crowd expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, because as far as they were concerned, the evening had been about the most fun they had had all year.

As they headed through the entrance hall towards Gryffindor Tower, Cedric Diggory caught Harry’s eye and signaled him over for a private conversation. Hermione excused herself and went over to wait by the staircase next to Cho Chang.

“Listen ….”Cedric lowered his voice as Ron disappeared. “I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

“Well …take a bath, okay?”

“What?”

“Take a bath, and - er – take the egg with you, and – er – just mull things over in the hot water. It’ll help you think….Trust me.” Harry stared at him.

“Tell you what,” Cedric said, “use the prefect’s bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password’s ‘pine fresh.’ Gotta go …want to say good night, as I’m sure you do, too!”

He winked at Harry and hurried over to where Cho was waiting for him, obviously refusing to acknowledge Hermione’s presence. As Cho and Cedric walked off together towards the Ravenclaw dormitory, Harry came over and offered Hermione his arm like a gentleman should as they resumed their walk to the tower. “I dare say, that was…a strange conversation,” Harry said to Hermione after they had traveled in silence for a while.

“What did he have to talk to you about, Harry? Something to do with the next task? Did he find out something?”

“Yeah…I suppose. But, I’ll have to think about what he said for a while to see if it will help. Ah, here we are. Fairy Lights!” he said, but it ended up taking both of them yelling it together before the Fat Lady woke up and let them in.

“Ron! What are you doing up!” Hermione said as they entered the common room, surprised and a bit disappointed to see him there, apparently waiting up for them.

He was still in his old, frayed robes, but they were disheveled and he had a wild look in his eyes as he yelled, “Where have the two of you been all night! I went looking for you all over the castle a few times, but I only caught a glimpse of both of you out on the dance floor and heading for the entrance so you could go outside and… So, did you have fun without me? Never even thought to check on me, or ask ME to dance, now did you!”

By this time they were standing face to face about ten feet apart, and Harry had backed away, as if he could sense that it would be best if he stayed out of it.

“But Ron, I seem to remember that you had a date with Padma tonight…and you never asked her to dance. I thought you didn’t know how, I suppose.”

“Well, that sure didn’t stop you from teaching Harry! I know HE didn’t know how to dance before you got hold of him. I watched you, you know. Showing him all those fancy dance moves, laughing with him when he messed up, and his arm around you most of the night…”

“Well, if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?” yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.

“Oh yeah?” Ron yelled back. “What’s that?”

“Next time there’s a ball, make sure you ask a girl out before someone else does, and not as a last resort.”

Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girl’s staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Harry, still quite angry. “And YOU, Potter! How could you not tell me that you were taking Hermione! Made me look like a fool, keeping on asking her who she was going with all that time. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you trust me?”

“Sorry, Ron…but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. And, it looks like the answer is, ‘Not well’!” Besides, it just sort of happened…when I was thinking about who I was going to ask, her name came to mind, and I gave it a go. Since no one else had asked her yet, she said yes. She is my friend, you know!” Harry was starting to raise his voice as he spoke.

“But I thought she was my friend, too! Maybe I would have wanted to take her if I had only…oh, never mind! That completely misses the point!” as he stormed off up the boy’s staircase.

Harry somehow knew that Ron was the one who was missing the point as he wearily followed his roommate.

****

The next morning, the two of them had a talk and Harry and Hermione decided on their own to keep their developing feelings for each other low-key for a while. They spent time together, but they continued to include Ron in their circle, and he seemed to forget the incident in a few days.

As the new term started, once again things settled down into a regular routine. In the back of Harry’s mind, he knew he should probably work on the clue for the second task, but there always seemed to be something that distracted him. First, Rita Skeeter had written her scandalous article about Hagrid’s secret, and what with trying to get him back to where he could teach, one thing led to another and February 24th was rapidly approaching…

(A/N...Okay, there you have it! The Yule Brawl revisited…with a twist or two thrown in for good measure. Next time, the events associated with the Second Task- and another surprise!)

Chapter 37 – The Second Task

“WORMTAIL! WORMTAIL, WHERE ARE YOU!” a cold, high-pitched voice sounded through the room.

Peter hurried up to the chair where his master lay. “Sss…sorry, Master, but Nagini wanted…”

“No more excuses, Wormtail. I do not want to hear you say ‘Sss…sorry, Master’ for the rest of the day. Don’t make me regret keeping you around any more than I already do. Now, have you done what I asked you to do?”

“Y…Yes, Master…I sent the message to our…er… inside contact as you asked. He is to proceed fully with the original plan.”

Voldemort sounded amused. “Wormtail, you don’t have to be so secretive here. We’re not a Muggle intelligence service, you know. You can use Barty Jr.’s name around me – I am quite aware that he is impersonating Alastor Moody.”

“Sss…sorry, Master.”

Voldemort let out what sounded like a heavy sigh. “Never mind. Did he respond already? What has he been doing while he has been at Hogwarts? Fortunately, it appears that the Muggle-Lover, Albus, has not discovered that yet or else surely he would have moved to reveal him. And, if he did that…”

“Yes, my Lord. You would have had to attack Harry directly. But, Barty has been maintaining appearances in his role as the DADA professor. He says he thoroughly enjoyed his small bit of revenge on Mr. Malfoy through his son at the beginning of the term, and hopes to be able to have a similar opportunity with Lucius at the proper time. He has been feeding Potter the necessary clues and help all along, so nothing much will change. Apparently, Potter has been distracted for some reason and has not been investigating the second task clue as he should have, so Barty has been working on some more drastic measures to make sure he does not fail to complete this next portion. Thanks to Potter, Barty reports that he has recently obtained a map that will help him in his task. As you have said, it would not do to have him fail to complete a task at this point in our plan.”

Voldemort was silent for a moment, and then said “Yes…Harry does seem to be distracted for some reason. I am still able to barely detect his general mood, even now. I am also puzzled as to what happened. I felt I was on the verge of breaking through to his mind and taking him over completely up until he returned to Hogwarts, and for a time I thought that I could sense…other minds there, too, but then, the evening of the first day of classes, the link went completely dead. It was so sudden, I was almost convinced that he might have died also, but our spies confirmed that he was back in school the next morning. I wonder…maybe Albus suspected something was amiss and meddled in my affairs again. No matter, though – we have our original plan to fall back on. He should be truly dead by the time the year is over, and I will be restored. Now, you fool, move me closer to the fire. My strength is still lacking, but soon, Potter…soon, I will have you where I want you…and then I will not be stopped!”

*******

“You said you’d already worked out that egg clue!” said Hermione indignantly.

“Keep your voice down!” said Harry softly. “I just need to – sort of fine-tune it, all right?”

He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to themselves. They were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today – the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room, Professor Flitwick had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn’t hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn’t working very well. Neville’s aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room – Professor Flitwick, for instance.

“Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?” Harry whispered as Professor Flitwick went whizzing resignedly past them, landing on top of a large cabinet. “I’m trying to tell you about Snape and Moody…”

*

“You just don’t like Crouch because of that elf, Winky,” said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window.

“You just want to think Snape’s up to something,” said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box.

“I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he’s on his second one,” said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his relief, flew straight across the room and landed neatly on top of Hermione’s, just where he wanted it. Immediately, he looked over at Hermione to see her reaction. At first, she looked mildly surprised, but then, a wave of understanding seemed to go through her. Then, as she noticed Harry looking at her, she smiled and winked at him.

****

By the evening before the second task, Harry felt as though he were trapped in a nightmare. He was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, he managed to find a suitable spell, he’d have a real job mastering it overnight, even with Hermione’s help. How could he have let this happen? Why hadn’t he got to work on the egg’s clue sooner? Why had he let the Yule Ball and Hagrid’s problems related to Rita Skeeter’s article distract him so? Why had he ever let his mind wander in class – what if a teacher had once mentioned how to breathe underwater? <Ah…but that’s silly. If that had ever happened, Hermione would surely remember, and she would have told me by now!>He looked at her sitting next to him in the library, intently reading one of the many books the three of them had found in the library that day. Ron seemed to be nearly asleep, but Hermione was still as alert as ever, worry evident on her face as she closed the book and moved on to the next one. <She really does care about me…doesn’t she? How could I be so lucky to have a friend…well, a girlfriend, actually, as beautiful and brilliant as she is?>

“Oh, this is no use,” Hermione said, snapping shut Weird Wizarding Dilemmas. “Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” said Fred Weasley’s voice. “Be a talking point, wouldn’t it?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves.

“What’re you two doing here?” Ron asked.

“Looking for the three of you,” said George. “McGonagall wants you, Hermione. She said you’d probably be in the library with Harry and Ron, and she was right. Although, that wasn’t too difficult for her to figure out, come to think of it.”

“What does she want me for?” said Hermione, looking surprised.

“Dunno…she was looking a bit grim, though,” said Fred.

“We’re supposed to take you down to her office,” said George.

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, who felt his stomach drop. <How will I be able to find what I need without Hermione here to help me? I’m doomed without her!>

Hermione stood up and looked at Harry. “I’ll meet you two in the common room when I get back. Ron, when you’re done here, help Harry get these books to the common room. Between the two of you, you should be able to take them all.” As Ron started piling the books they had discarded into a stack he could carry, she turned to Harry and put her hand on his arm in reassurance. “Don’t worry, Harry…I’ll find something to help you. Don’t give up on me yet!” she whispered. For some reason, Harry felt the urge to kiss her good-bye, but she smiled at him and turned to follow the twins.

****

The mermaid in the painting at the prefect’s bathroom was laughing. Harry was bobbing like a cork in bubbly water next to her rock, while she held his Firebolt over his head.

“Come and get it!” she giggled maliciously. “Come on, jump!”

“I can’t,” Harry panted, snatching at the Firebolt, and struggling not to sink. “Give it to me!”

But she just poked him painfully in the side with the end of the broomstick, laughing at him.

“That hurts – get off – ouch –”

“Harry Potter must wake up, sir!”

“Stop poking me –”

“Dobby must poke Harry Potter, sir, he must wake up!”

Harry opened his eyes. He was still in the library, the Invisibility Cloak had slipped off his head as he’d slept, and the side of his face was stuck to the pages of Where There’s a Wand, There’s a Way. After Ron had begged off studying soon after they had returned to the Common Room to wait for Hermione, he had snuck off to the library under his Invisibility Cloak when it was obvious Hermione wasn’t going to come back that night. At the time, he was quite disappointed in both of his friends, but most especially in Hermione. <She promised to come back, didn’t she…she knows how much I need her...or…does she? Maybe I’ll have to tell her…if I don’t drown during the task, that is.> He sat up, straightening his glasses, blinking in the bright daylight.

“Harry Potter needs to hurry!” squeaked Dobby. “The second task starts in ten minutes, and Harry Potter –”

“Ten minutes?” Harry croaked. “Ten – ten minutes?”

He looked down at his watch. Dobby was right. It was twenty past nine. A large, dead weight seemed to fall through Harry’s chest into his stomach.

“Hurry, Harry Potter!” squeaked Dobby, plucking at Harry’s sleeve. “You is supposed to be down by the lake with the other champions, sir!”

“It’s too late, Dobby,” Harry said hopelessly. “I’m not doing the task. I don’t know how –”

“Harry Potter will do the task!” squeaked the elf. “Dobby knew Harry had not found the right book, so Dobby did it for him!”

“What?” said Harry. “But you don’t know what the second task is –”

“Dobby knows, sir! Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his…his…”

“My what, Dobby? My Firebolt? What is it that I have to find?”

As far as Harry could tell, Dobby seemed to be blushing. “You have to find…your special friend…and take your Hermy back from the merpeople!”

“What? They have Hermione?”

“The thing Harry Potter will miss most, sir!” squeaked Dobby. “‘But past an hour–’”

“-‘the prospect’s black,’” Harry recited, staring, horror-struck, at the elf. “‘Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.’ Dobby – what’ve I got to do?”

“You has to eat this, sir!” squeaked the elf, and he put his hand in the pocket of his shorts and drew out a ball of what looked like slimy, grayish-green rat tails. “Right before you go into the lake, sir – gillyweed!”

“What’s it do?” said Harry, staring at the gillyweed.

“It will make Harry Potter breathe underwater, sir!”

“Dobby,” said Harry frantically, as he considered Hermione being held captive underwater by the merpeople. “Listen, - are you sure about this?”

He couldn’t quite forget that the last time Dobby had tried to “help” him he had ended up with no bones in his right arm.

“Dobby is quite sure, sir!” said the elf earnestly. “Dobby hears things, sir, he is a house-elf, he goes all over the castle as he lights the fires and mops the floors. Dobby heard Professor McGonagall and Professor Moody in the staffroom, talking about the next task…Dobby cannot let Harry Potter lose his Hermy!”

Harry’s doubts vanished. Jumping to his feet he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, stuffed it into his bag, grabbed the gillyweed, and put it into his pocket, then tore out of the library with Dobby at his heels.

*****

After swimming for what seemed like forever, he finally swam through the merpeople’s village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson. As he recognized who they were, he was not surprised by the choices in the least.

Hermione was tied next to Cho Chang…and Miss Puckle. <I guess Viktor was really impressed with Harmony!> There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour’s sister. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

Harry sped towards the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong. For a fleeting second he thought of the knife Sirius had bought him for Christmas – locked in his trunk in the castle a quarter of a mile away, no use to him whatsoever.

He looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding them were carrying spears. He swam swiftly toward a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear. The merman laughed and shook his head.

“We do not help,” he said in a harsh, croaky voice.

“Come ON!” Harry said fiercely (but only bubbles issued from his mouth), and he tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head and laughing.

Harry swirled around, staring about. Something sharp … anything…

There were rocks littering the lake bottom. He dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one and returned to the statue. He began to hack at the ropes binding Hermione, and after several minutes hard work, they broke apart. Hermione floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom. Harry was embarrassed to see that her loose top had come untucked from her skirt and floated up quite a lot, which exposed most of her lower back as she drifted in the ebb of the water. For a second, he attempted to pull it back into place unsuccessfully, then, blushing, he quickly turned back to Miss Puckle, raised the jagged rock, and began to hack at her bindings too –

At once, several pairs of strong, gray hands seized him. Half a dozen mermen were pulling him away from Harmony, shaking their green-haired heads, and laughing.

“You take your own hostage,” one of them said to him. “Leave the others…”

“No way!” said Harry furiously – but only two large bubbles came out.

“Your task is to retrieve your own friend …leave the others…”

“She’s one of my teachers, and my friend, too!” Harry yelled, gesturing toward Harmony, an enormous silver bubble emerging soundlessly from his lips. “And I don’t want them to die either!”

Cho’s head was on Harmony’s shoulder, the small silver-haired girl was ghostly green and pale. Harry struggled to fight off the mermen, but they laughed harder than ever, holding him back. Harry looked wildly around. Where were the other champions? Would he have time to take Hermione to the surface and come back down for Harmony and the others? Would he be able to find them again? He looked down at his watch to see how much time was left – it had stopped working.

But the merpeople around him pointed excitedly over his head. Harry looked up and saw Cedric swimming toward them. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched.

“Got lost!” he mouthed, looking panic-stricken. “Fleur and Krum’re coming now!”

Feeling enormously relieved, Harry watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho free…

***

And then he felt his head break the surface of the lake; wonderful, cold, clear air was making his wet face sting; he gulped it down, feeling as though he had never breathed properly before, and, panting, pulled Hermione and the little girl up with him. All around him, wild, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water with him, but they were smiling at him.

Finally, he made it to the shore. As he handed Hermione and the little girl over to Madame Pomfrey, who was ready with blankets and hot potions, he saw Ron running up to him with a puzzled look on his face as he pointed to Fleur’s sister. “What did you bring her for?”

“Fleur didn’t turn up, I couldn’t leave her,” Harry panted.

“Harry, you prat,” said Ron. “You KNOW that Dumbledore wouldn’t have let anyone drown! Think about it!”

“The song said -”

“Percy explained it to me while we were waiting for you to come back. The song was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!” said Ron. “I hope you didn’t waste time down there acting the hero!”, and then his voice turned decidedly cool. “Besides, you already found what you wanted down there – what you’d miss the most, right? I saw her when she got out of the water just now…her wet top…exposed like that, all that skin showing – positively indecent! Is THAT what took you so long? Had to stop for a bit of fun, did you?”

“What ARE you talking about, Ron?” Harry said, bristling at what his roommate was suggesting. “When I cut her loose and she floated free, I saw her top had come untucked. I tried for a second to tuck it back in, but I was afraid she’d wake up right then and catch me, so I stopped. You should know I’d never do…anything like that to Hermione! <Unless she was awake and willing…Now where did THAT thought come from?>. Besides, she’d probably hex me into next week if I tried!”

Behind him, he heard Hermione’s voice. “Tried what, Harry…?” She and Harmony, both wrapped in blankets but still looking quite waterlogged, came up to the two of them.

Hermione handed him one of Pomfrey’s blankets and helped him wrap it snugly around him, as Miss Puckle gave him a steaming mug of potion. He held the warm container gratefully, as he could now start to feel his frozen fingers again.

Harry could tell from Ron’s wicked expression that he was about to blurt out what he thought Harry had been doing, so he quickly cut him off. “Oh, never mind about that. Ron was just telling me I was stupid for bringing back both you and Fleur’s sister…that’s all.” He quickly took a large swallow of the hot potion, causing steam to pour out of his ears.

“Oh…well, I thought it was brilliant of you…and quite brave, besides!” Hermione said, looking askance at Ron.

Harmony smiled at him. “Harry, well done! You did it! You found out how all by yourself!”

“Well -” said Harry. He would have told her about Dobby, but he had just noticed Karkaroff watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Hermione, and Fleur’s sister had got back safely. “Yeah, that’s right,” said Harry, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.

“You haff a water beetle in you hair, Harr-monnny” said Krum. Harry had the impression that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake. Harmony reached to brush away the beetle, but Harry saw a mischievous expression slowly build on her face. “Just a second, Viktor. Let me take care of this poor lost beetle – wouldn’t want it to get hurt, you know!” she said with definite amusement in her voice. “Hmmm…if it’s a water beetle, it must have got caught in my hair when I was waiting for you to rescue me. Well, we’d best get it back to where it came from.” She quickly walked over to the shore where one of the merpeople was watching the general commotion. “Here, kind merman…could you return this beetle to your village? No, don’t eat it! I doubt you would find it very tasty. That type of beetle is QUITE nasty – acidic, actually,” she said, mostly to herself. “That’s it…just take it back into the lake and let it go. I’m sure she…I mean, it, will be fine…as long as it can swim, that is.” By this time, Harry could definitely see that Miss Puckle seemed to be enjoying herself way too much for what appeared to be a simple act of kindness. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he almost heard…revenge in her voice as she talked.

Hermione broke in to his thoughts and said, “But Harry…you’re well outside the time limit, though, Harry…Did it take you ages to find me…er…us, I mean?”

“No…I found you okay…”

****

“Look after Gabrielle,” Fleur told Madame Pomfrey, and then she turned to Harry. “You saved ’er,” she said breathlessly. “Even though she was not your ’ostage.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he’d left the other two girls tied to the statue.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek. He felt his face burn and wouldn’t have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again. Then he caught a glimpse of Hermione’s face, looking daggers at the witch from Beauxbatons. <Bit jealous, are we?>, he thought with a grin. He caught her eye and shrugged, trying to let her know that it wasn’t his idea, but he could tell she was furious. But just then, Ludo Bagman’s magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet and look towards him.

No one noticed, therefore, as a completely soaked Rita Skeeter climbed out of the lake behind them and sloshed towards the castle grounds, her hair plastered wetly to her head as Bagman announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision…”

****

For the first few days, everyone at Hogwarts had congratulated Harry and Cedric being tied for first place in the tournament standings so many times, Harry found himself avoiding students as much as possible in the halls, as did Diggory. But it wasn’t long before the excitement died down and students settled back into their class work with determination. The fifth year students were busy studying for their O.W.L.S., as were the seventh-years for their N.E.W.T.s which were fast approaching. Harry, however, being exempt from end-of-year testing, soon realized that he found that being with Hermione was sufficient motivation to keep attending his regular schedule of classes. Even though Ron was always with them, he soon noticed that Hermione made it a point to sit on one side of him with Ron on the other. Ron didn’t seem to notice too much, or care, for that matter, so the whole arrangement suited Harry just fine.

One day a little over a week after the second task, the trio was descending the steps into the dungeons for double Potions with the Slytherins. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson’s gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Harry couldn’t see and sniggering heartily. Pansy’s pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle’s broad back as Ron, Harry, and Hermione approached.

“There he is…there he is!” she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. Harry saw that Pansy had a magazine in her hands – Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

“You might find something to interest you in there, Potter!” Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Harry, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside. Hermione, Harry, and Ron headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of today’s potion on the blackboard, Harry hastily rifled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Harry found what they were looking for. Hermione and Ron leaned in closer. A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:

Harry Potter’s Forbidden Love

A boy like no other, perhaps, yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter seemed to have caught the eye of his prettiest teacher – Asst. Professor of Charms Miss Harmony June Puckle, age unknown, who joined the staff at Hogwarts the same day that young Mr. Potter started his schooling at the renowned Wizarding institution. Since that time, many students have noticed that Harry has attracted the interest of the beautiful, yet mysterious, young faculty member. (For an exposition of the horrible mismanagement and questionable hiring practices at Hogwarts during Albus Dumbledore’s tenure as Headmaster, see page 35 of the latest issue of the Daily Prophet – Subscribe now through Owl Post!)

Pretty as she is with her dark, black hair, shining blue eyes, and charming visage, that does not excuse her apparent fascination (or is that infatuation?) with the famous Boy-Who-Lived. We do not blame Mr. Potter, of course. He’s a normal, healthy teenager that is probably flattered by her feminine wiles, no matter how misguided or illegal they may be. For one thing, according to Mr. Lucius Malfoy, former member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, the bylaws specifically forbid any such relationship between students and teachers, no matter how famous or good-looking they may be. Mr. Malfoy said in an exclusive interview with this reporter, “Oh, yes, that would be grounds for immediate dismissal of the teacher and, if the facts warranted, dismissal of the student unless it could be proven he or she were innocent. Mark my words, if I were still a school governor, I would launch an immediate investigation into this disgusting lack of professional behavior and corresponding lack of oversight on the esteemed, yet possibly past his prime, Headmaster.” (For more background on the questionable series of accusations that led to the dismissal of Mr. Malfoy, one of the Wizarding World’s best know supporters of charitable causes, including the Witch Weekly Orphan’s fund, and head of one of the truly great Wizarding pure-blood lines, see page 40.)

However, Miss Puckle, who apparently came out of nowhere when she appeared on the scene, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. (For the inconclusive results of the research into Miss Puckle’s background and credentials, see the sidebar on the last page of this article.) Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Puckle has been toying with both young men’s affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Puckle, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has “never felt this vay about any other girl.”

Further investigation has also revealed the shocking proof that Miss Puckle was a known associate of famous author and current resident of St. Mungo’s, Gilderoy Lockhart, when he taught at Hogwarts during Harry’s second year. Students at the time reported seeing her coming from Gilderoy’s private quarters, obviously flushed in appearance with her robes in disarray. It doesn’t take a Nicholas Flamel to realize what they must have been doing that day, especially considering Gilderoy’s reputation with the ladies. Miss Puckle was even reported as being in the front row during his book signing where he announced he had accepted the DADA position – an obvious ploy of a fangirl trying to be noticed.

From this evidence, it appears that while Miss Puckle may have a thing for underage boys, she also craves the attentions of more mature, athletic types and known ladies men to fulfill her baser desires. No doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these shocking claims. In the meantime, we hope to see her put on administrative leave to keep her from having the opportunity to charm some other young wizard in one of her classes. Harry Potter’s well-wishers must also hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.

“Wow…wonder what Miss Puckle did to set her off? Someone should have warned her not to mess with Rita Skeeter, whatever it was she did.” Ron muttered as he stared at the article. She’s made her out to be some sort of – of scarlet woman!”

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. “Scarlet woman?” she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked past Harry at Ron.

“It’s what my mum calls them,” Ron muttered again as his ears went red.

Still giggling, Hermione continued, “If that’s the best Rita can do, she’s losing her touch. Miss Puckle…in love with Harry? Rubbish!”, although Harry noticed a little worry on Hermione’s face as she threw the magazine onto the empty chair beside her.

“There’s something funny, though,” said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. “How could Rita Skeeter have known...?”

“Known what?” said Ron quickly.

As she started to pound her beetles again, she said, quietly, “How did she know Viktor asked Harmony to visit him over the summer? He’s graduating from Durmstrang this year, and he’s definitely of age, so he was hoping on showing her his home country. Miss Puckle’s always been fascinated with anything related to Wizarding history in Europe, so he thought she would enjoy being shown around by a native. He asked her right after he pulled her from the lake. Harmony only told me about it yesterday.”

“And, what did she say?” said Ron.

“And he did say he’d never felt the same way about anyone else,” Hermione went on, avoiding answering Ron’s question. “But how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn’t there…or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task…”

“And, what did she say?” Ron repeated, strangely interested all of a sudden in Miss Puckle’s love life.

“Well, she was too busy seeing whether Harry and I were okay, and then she had that merman rescue that poor water beetle - ”

“Fascinating as that story may be, Miss Granger,” said an icy voice right behind them, and all three of them jumped, “I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Malfoy took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.

“Ah…reading magazines under the table as well?” Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. “A further ten points from Gryffindor…oh but of course…” Snape’s black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter’s article. “Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings…”

The dungeons rang with the Slytherins’ laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape’s thin mouth. To Harry’s fury, he began to read the article aloud.

“‘Harry Potter’s Forbidden Love’…dear, dear, Potter…what’s this about? ‘A boy like no other, perhaps…’”

After what seemed to Harry to be an interminably long time, Snape finally finished reading the entire article out loud to the class. “…‘Harry Potter’s well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.’ How very touching,” sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. “Well, I think I had better separate you three since you seem to be more interested in the questionable tastes of one of my fellow teachers than you do in your Potions assignment. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter – that table in front of my desk. Move. Now.”

****

“Do you know what this is, Potter?” Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously as he showed him a small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion.

“No,” said Harry, with a complete honesty this time.

“It is Veritaserum – a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear,” said Snape viciously. “Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand slips” – he shook the crystal bottle slightly – “right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then, Potter…then we’ll find out whether you’ve been in my office or not. Since I am quite sure that I have the only stock of gillyweed in the area, I am sure you must have stolen it somehow. No student has EVER gotten away with stealing from my private stores in all the years I’ve been here…-” <That’s not right…I seem to remember that Hermione took Boomslang skin before…don’t I? That doesn’t make any sense…Hermione stealing something? She’d never do that, would she? Why would I remember her sneaking out with Boomslang skin…?>

As Harry realized that Snape had finished threatening him, he said nothing and turned back to his ginger roots once more, picked up his knife, and started slicing them again. He didn’t like the sound of that Truth Potion at all, nor would he put it past Snape to slip him some. He repressed a shudder at the thought of what might come spilling out of his mouth if Snape did it…quite apart from landing Dobby in trouble, there were all the other things he was concealing…like the fact that he was in contact with Sirius…and – his insides squirmed at the thought – how he felt about Hermione…<How DO I feel about her, anyway…sometimes its like I’ve known her forever…but whenever I try to remember the details, they’re just not there. Hmmm…maybe the Veritaserum would help, come to think of it. Have to ask the Headmaster about it sometime.>

There was a knock on the dungeon door.

“Enter” said Snape in his usual voice.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up towards Snape’s desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

“We need to talk,” said Karkaroff…

***

The following Monday, after meeting with Sirius and getting socks for Dobby, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were eating breakfast when the post owls arrived.

“Harry…look at Miss Puckle!” Hermione said with alarm. Harry looked up to the head table and saw that Harmony was surrounded by flocks of owls, most of which appeared to be carrying…howlers!

Immediately, the Great Hall was filled with loud, angry voices denouncing Miss Puckle as being a child molester or worse and demanding that she resign her position immediately. Finally, with tears streaming down her face she ran from the hall, followed by a number of post owls and Professor McGonagall.

The general commotion coming from all of the students in the hall was halted as Dumbledore stood up, performed the Sonorus charm on himself, and said in a booming voice, “MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE! PLEASE BE SEATED AT ONCE!”

As soon as the students quieted down, he performed the counter charm and continued. “Now, that’s better. I have only one thing to say to all of your students, and I will just say it once. Please pass what I am about to say on to your parents. If I ever have any reason to believe that ANY of my staff has behaved in such a manner as a recent news article has reported, they will be immediately suspended until the truth can be discerned. However, I have full confidence in Miss Puckle, and I am quite certain that the libelous charges against her are completely untrue. I have known Miss Puckle for many years now and I have met with her on many occasions, and I know that she is above reproach in this manner, with respect to either Mr. Potter OR Mr. Krum. I also have additional knowledge with respect to her supposed relationship with our former DADA professor, Gilderoy Lockhart - that completely satisfies any concerns along those lines, also. Now, please return to your excellent meal. The House Elves have outdone themselves today. If you see one, be sure and thank them for their fine work.” Harry swore that he winked at Hermione when he said that.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked up to Miss Puckle’s place at the table to see if they could help clean up the mess caused by all of the howlers and hate mail that had been delivered. As Hermione read some of the opened notes, she was shocked by the hateful words and threats that she saw there. As she picked up the last envelope, though, she screamed as the contents gushed over her hands, causing large yellow boils to erupt.

“Undiluted bubotuber pus!” said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.

****

Even after Dumbledore had written a letter to the editor of Witch Weekly in which he stated his continuing support for Miss Puckle, hate mail continued to arrive for her over the following week. She had long since stopped opening the mail, but the Howlers could not be ignored as they exploded. Even those people who didn’t read the magazine knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Harmony triangle now. Harry was getting sick of telling people that Miss Puckle was not his girlfriend and that he wasn’t getting extra credit in Charms class because of their supposed relationship. One thing that did come out of this was that Harry and Hermione ended up spending more time together. For one thing, Albus had thought it was best that Harry not be seen with Miss Puckle outside of class for any reason, and he suggested that Hermione serve as a chaperone to verify this. Since they were quite accustomed by this time to working in the library together, this was no problem for either of them. Ron, who was still a bit upset with Harry over the leprechaun gold incident, generally found other things to occupy himself when they spend time walking together around the lake or doing research in the library.

****

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Harry was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which he needed to prepare, but he still didn’t know what he would have to do. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held him back in Transfiguration.

“You are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o’clock, Potter,” she told him. “Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task.”

So, at half past eight that night, Harry left Hermione to study with Ron and Ginny in the tower and went downstairs. As he crossed the entrance hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common room.

“What d’you reckon it’s going to be?” he asked Harry as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night. “Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we’ve got to find treasure.”

******

“Maze,” grunted Krum, as Bagman asked for a guess as to what the Quidditch pitch had been turned in to.

“That’s right!” said Bagman “A maze. The third task’s really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be place in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks.”

*******

“What’re we going this way for?” said Harry as they passed Hagrid’s cabin and the illuminated Beauxbatons carriage.

“Don’t vont to be overheard,” said Krum shortly.

When at last they had reached a quiet stretch of ground a short way from the Beauxbatons horse’s paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face Harry.

“I vant to know,” he said, glowering, “vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny.”

Harry was doubly shocked at what he had just been asked. For one thing, he would have expected the question to be about Miss Puckle, and, for another, because he was surprised that Krum would be concerned about Hermione. As he collected his thoughts, he decided to be direct with Krum and said. “Viktor, why do you want to know? Besides, aren’t you more interested in my supposed relationship with Miss Puckle? She’s the one you would most miss, you know.”

Viktor shook his head quickly. “No, Harry. I vill admit that I haff greatly enjoyed getting to know Miss Puckle this year, and I vill miss her after this tournament is completed. However, she has made it qvite clear that her heart is spoken for. There is …someone from her past, apparently, that she still loves greatly. And, before you ask if I am interested in Miss Granger, I assure you that is not vy I am asking. While she is a charming young vitch, she is much too young for me, just as I am too young for Miss Puckle. It would not be appropriate under the vizarding traditions vere I come from. The reason I am talking to you now is because I haff noticed that you spend much time with her, but only as friends. Are you not interested in her that way, Harry? It is quite obvious she has feelings for you, even if she vill not admit it to herself, and if you do not return those feelings you should tell her soon so she can get on vith her life.”

Harry couldn’t quite believe he was having a conversation about his feelings for Hermione with Viktor Krum, the famous International Quidditch player. He looked thoughtful for a minute, and then said, “Honestly, Viktor, I cannot say just what my feelings are for Hermione. Yes, I think of Hermione as a very good friend, and sometimes I seem to …well, remember, that there could be more to our relationship than just friendship, but then it is almost as if I can’t keep my mind focused – as if something is blocking me from that line of thought. I have even considered having someone administer Truth Potion to me to see if that will help.”

Viktor smiled. “Vell, Harry, I vish you vell in your efforts to find out the truth. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think she vud make a vunderful girlfriend for you. She seems to be always there for you each time you are in need.”

Harry blushed as he realized how true that statement was. “Thanks, Viktor. I’ll keep that in mind. Yes, you’re right. I think I need to have a talk with her…after the third task is over, that is. Good luck, by the way!” he said as he stuck out his hand.

Viktor shook his hand and said, “You fly very vell. I vos votching at the first task.”

*****

(A/N – Another long chapter…but a lot to cover, too. For those of you who are Sirius fans that may be upset that I’m not including much of that story arc from canon, all I can say is 1. This is primarily an H/Hr story. 2. The chapters recapping GOF for this time loop would have been WAY too long if I had incorporated that story line or much about S.P.E.W, which in my opinion is probably more interesting from an H/Hr relationship standpoint, anyway; and 3. If you want to know about those plot lines, just reread the appropriate sections in canon. Besides, there’s still more chapters coming – and Sirius will be back before the end of the story.)

Chapter 38- The Third Task

(A/N –I received comments on the last chapter concerning Viktor Krum’s talk with Harry. As I said in my reply to godsowndevil , Krum IS a Seeker, you know…he’s very good at seeing what may not be obvious to others. That is why he talked to Harry about his feelings for Hermione, not Miss Puckle.

Some of you may not be too happy with me, but this chapter mainly consists of canon segments that have changed slightly to match this time loop’s history. A good portion of the events in this chapter are unchanged from the parallel sections in Chapters 29-34 of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. And, as usual, I won’t be retyping those sections – indicated by the ****. So, just grab your copy of GOF and follow along…Please don’t try to skip ahead, either. There are some very IMPORTANT changes in the sections I have included.)

After what happened with Mr. Crouch and Krum from the night before, Harry found he could not sleep. He ended up spending most of the night thinking about what he needed to tell Sirius, while trying not to think too hard about what Krum had said to him the night before. He found that whenever he did think about that conversation, he seemed to lose track of time. Before too long, as far as he could remember, anyway, Harry was surprised to see the beginnings of a new day start to lighten up his room. He sighed tiredly, but at least he had made up his mind. He would talk to Hermione…and tell her...<Tell her what, Harry…Oh, bloody hell! It happened again! I know I need to talk to her about something, but whenever I try to think about it, I can’t remember…Well, it’s no use staying here any more. Maybe she’s come up with an idea about what happened to Viktor last night…and Mr. Crouch.>

As he got out of his bed, still dressed in his robes from the night before, he heard Ron’s sleepy, yet sarcastic voice. “What’s up, Potter? Getting up early so you can sneak off and snog your girlfriend Hermione? D’you think she stayed up all night in the common room waiting for you, Harry?’

“I don’t know, Ron…besides, she’s not my…”

“Earth to Harry…what just happened, mate? I was just teasing you, you know, just like when you rescued her from the lake in the second task – you didn’t have to black out on me!” Ron had repeated this story to Harry so many times that he almost believed it himself.

“Sorry, Ron…Guess I was just thinking about this note I need to send to Snuffles. Come on; let’s get it to the owlery before anyone else gets up. It’s plenty early right now.”

Harry waited for Ron to throw on his robes and they both headed for the common room. As they entered, they could see a familiar bushy-haired silhouette sitting in her favorite chair next to the fire. “See, mate, she did stay up all night waiting for you!” Ron said with a forced laugh as he poked him in the side with his elbow.

Harry, however, wondered why Ron would be surprised to find Hermione waiting for him in the darkened room. As soon as Ron had mentioned it earlier in their dorm room, he somehow knew she would be there. As he saw her look up at him from her chair, he thought he could hear her saying quite clearly in his mind, <Took you long enough, Potter…> but then, there was nothing.

“Hi, Hermione…Harry and I are going to the Owlery to send a letter. Want to come along?”

“Sure, Ron…but then, there’s something I need to talk to Harry about…”

As he saw her face go blank, too, Ron waved his hand in front of her. “Blimey, Hermione! You too? You look just like Harry! Don’t tell me both my friends are going bonkers on me at the same time! Harry, are you sure you don’t want to go see Pomfrey?”

Harry looked at him strangely as he shook his head. “What are you talking about, Ron? Why would I need to go see the nurse? Let’s get to the owlery and get this letter sent. Oh, hello, Hermione, I didn’t see you there. Do you want to come with us? We can talk some more about what happened to Viktor and Mr. Crouch last night.”

*****

History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Harry kept checking Ron’s watch, having finally discarded his own, but Ron’s was moving so slowly he could have sworn it had stopped working too. All three of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn’t taking her usual notes but was sitting with her head on her hand, alternately gazing at Harry, then Professor Binns. Each time she looked at Harry, her expression would go blank for a second, followed by her eyes going out of focus as she tried to concentrate on the lecture.

When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

“Professor Moody?” Harry called as they made their way toward him through the crowd.

*****

“So,” said Ron, “d’you reckon he’s somewhere in Hogsmeade?”

“Could be anywhere,” said Moody, shaking his head. “Only thing we know for sure is that he’s not here.”

He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided mouth revealed a number of missing teeth. Then he said, “Now, Dumbledore’s asked me to tell you three to stay out of this whole thing with Crouch and Krum, especially you, Harry. Just keep your mind on the third task.”

“What?” said Harry. “Oh, yeah…”

He hadn’t given the maze a single thought (that he could remember, anyway) since he’d left it with Krum the previous night.

Moody continued. “Besides, after outflying a dragon and having to make like a fish, a simple maze shouldn’t bother you any, now should it, Potter? I meant to ask you, Harry, how’d you figure out how to summon that broom? An Accio that powerful takes quite some time to perfect.”

“Er…well, Hermione….she helped me learn it.” Harry stammered, afraid that he might be getting both of them in trouble. Ron’s expression again turned neutral as he remembered why he hadn’t been there to help Harry also.

Moody, however, grinned. “Don’t worry about a thing, boy. Your secret is safe with me! Our kind has been ‘bending the rules’ at the Triwizard Tournament for centuries.” He turned to Hermione as he continued. “Now you, Miss Granger…you help him practice for this one, too, and I’ll be very surprised if he doesn’t win. Why don’t you get Weasley here to help, too? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Ron looked smugly at Hermione, and she gave him a disgusted look in return. “In the meantime…constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance.” He took another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swiveled onto the window. The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship was visible through it.

“You two,” counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione as he pulled them aside for a private moment as Harry started back to the common room, “you need to stop your silly bickering and stick close to Potter, all right? I’m keeping an eye on things, but all the same…you can never have too many eyes out.”

****

“Can’t we kidnap Mrs. Norris instead of you venting your anger on me all the time?” Ron suggested on Monday lunchtime as he lay flat on his back in the middle of their Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and reawoken by Harry for the fifth time in a row. “On that last one I could have sworn you put a little extra power into it. How long WAS I out, anyway? Or”, he said, looking devilish, “you could just use Hermione, you know. She hasn’t had a turn.”

“Well, I think Harry’s got it now anyway,” said Hermione hastily. “And we don’t have to worry about Disarming, because he’s been able to do that for ages…I think we ought to start on some of these hexes this evening.”

She looked down the list they had made in the library.

“I like the look of this one,” she said, “this Impediment Curse. Should slow down anything that’s trying to attack you, Harry. We’ll start with this one.”

The bell rang. They hastily shoved the cushions back into Flitwick’s cupboard and slipped out of the classroom.

“See you at dinner!” said Hermione, and she set off for Arithmancy, while Harry and Ron headed toward North Tower, and Divination.

**** (Big jump…sorry, but this whole section, including the dream and the Pensieve scenes don’t change much from canon – at least not enough to include in this story.) ***

Harry’s nerves mounted as June the twenty-fourth drew closer, but they were not as bad as those he had felt before the first and second tasks. For one thing, he was confident that, this time, with both Ron and Hermione helping him for once, he had done everything in his power to prepare for the task. For another, this was the final hurdle, and however well or badly he did, the tournament would at last be over, which, he was certain, would be an enormous relief.

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. The post owls appeared, bringing Harry a good-luck charm from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Harry appreciated it all the same. A screech owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

“What?” said Harry and Ron together, staring at her.

*****

“Gone off on me a bit, hasn’t she?” said Harry lightly, folding up the paper.

Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at him, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces, and waggling their tongues like snakes.

“How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?” Ron said. “There’s no way she was there, there’s no way she could have heard -”

“The window was open,” said Harry. “I opened it to breathe.”

“You were at the top of North Tower!” Hermione said. “Your voice couldn’t have carried all the way down to the grounds!”

“Well, you’re the one who’s supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!” said Harry. “You tell me how she did it!”

“I’ve been trying!” said Hermione. “But I… but…”

An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione’s face. She started acting out someone pulling her fingers through her hair…and then, holding her hand up to her mouth, as though she were speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Harry and Ron stared at each other.

“I’ve had an idea,” Hermione said, gazing into space. “I think I know…because then no one would be able to see…even Moody…and she’d have been able to get onto the window ledge…but she’s not allowed…she’s definitely not allowed…I think we’ve got her! First, I’ve got to go check something in the library, but just wait until I tell Harmony…Oooh! Someone’s going to have some explaining to do!

With that, Hermione seized her school bag and dashed out of the Great Hall.

“Oi!” Ron called after her. “We’ve got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey,” he said, turning back to Harry, “she must really want to get that Skeeter woman for what she’s done to Miss Puckle and you if she’s willing to miss the start of an exam. What’re you going to do in Binns’s class – read again?”

“S’pose so,” Harry said to Ron; but just then, Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him.

“Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast,” she said.

“But the task’s not till tonight!” said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.

“I’m aware of that, Potter,” she said. “The champions’ families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them.”

She moved away. Harry gaped after her.

“She doesn’t expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?” he asked Ron blankly.

“Dunno,” said Ron. “Harry, I’d better hurry. I’m going to be late for Binns. See you later.”

Harry finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterward. Harry stayed where he was. He really didn’t want to go into the chamber. He had no family – no family who would turn up to see him risk his life, anyway. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.

“Harry come on, they’re waiting for you!”

Utterly perplexed, Harry got up. The Dursley’s couldn’t possibly he here, could they? He walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.

*****

“Mum – Bill!” said Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. “What’re you doing here?”

“Come to watch Harry in the last task!” said Mrs. Weasley brightly. “I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?”

“Oh…okay,” said Ron. “Couldn’t remember all the goblin rebel’s names, so I invented a few. It’s all right,” he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, “they’re all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn’t hard.”

Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow. But, when he thought of the Burrow, he realized that he couldn’t remember something from that time at the Burrow…something important…and something quite pleasant. The harder he thought about it, the more the memory seemed to elude him. In his mind’s eye, he could almost see…someone, sitting in the dark, waiting for him…one person that he really missed from that night at the Burrow…it was....<Concentrate, Harry…you’ve almost got it…who was sitting there waiting for you at the table…was it Ginny? No, she was asleep – I remember her snoring when I walked by her room. That means it must have been…>.

“Hermione!” How are you doing, my dear? Come, have a seat and tell us how your exams went.” Mrs. Weasley said, glancing sharply at Ron as she said this. Molly had always thought of Hermione as a good influence on Ginny and possibly even Ron, so she was glad to have a chance to talk to her.

However, about that time, Miss Puckle entered the hall and headed towards the head table. Immediately, Molly’s expression changed from warm to cold as her eyes narrowed, following Harmony’s progress across the room with an audible sniff.

Harry noticed this immediately. He said, “Mrs. Weasley, you didn’t believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Miss Puckle’s not chasing after me, or Viktor Krum, for that matter. Headmaster Dumbledore said as much in the article that Witch Weekly published later that week. Too bad they wrote it in small print and buried it in the classified section. Besides, both Hermione and I can vouch for her – she’s always been our friend.”

Molly, of course, immediately denied doubting Harmony, but she became considerably warmer towards the young assistant professor after that.

*****

“So…on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!” said Bagman.

“Three – two – one -”

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. Harry felt almost as though he were underwater again. He pulled out his wand, muttered, “Lumos,” and heard Cedric do the same just behind him.

After about fifty yards, they reached a fork. They looked at each other.

“See you,” Harry said, and he took the left one, while Cedric took the right.

*****

Cedric, robe still smoking from the near miss from Hagrid’s Blast-Ended Skrewts, shook his head and dived out of sight, along another path. Keen to put plenty of distance between himself and the skrewts, Harry hurried off again. Then, as he turned a corner, he saw…a dementor gliding toward him. Twelve feet tall, its face hidden by its hood, its rotting, scabbed hands outstretched, it advanced, sensing its way blindly toward him. Harry could hear its rattling breath; he felt clammy coldness stealing over him, but knew what he had to do…

He immediately searched his mind looking for a happy thought to focus on...and he realized he couldn’t think of a single one. <That’s strange…I know I’ve summoned a Patronus before…I remember Professor Lupin congratulating me on how powerful my stag was…but I can’t think of what I thought of to bring that up…let’s see…my Firebolt? No…not that…Wait…I know…it was…>.

And then, as if a barrier melted away in his mind… he remembered just HOW he created his Patronus. Images of Hermione tumbled wildly through his mind. Hermione, sitting with him on the back of Buckbeak – his arms around her, feeling her warmth. Hermione sitting with him on a blanket near the lake…crying with him and hugging him as they talked. Hermione and him, again riding something together, this time a glowing, solid stag Patronus…and then, he was reading the part of Romeo to her Juliet, as, for the first time, they kissed. At that moment, he raised his wand and cried, “Expecto Patronum!”

A large, solid stag again erupted from the end of Harry’s wand and galloped toward the dementor, striking it full on with its antlers and knocking it to the ground, where it remained motionless. The large stag pawed at the dementor on the ground, and then nudged it with its antlers once again. Harry had never seen a dementor just lie there.

“Hang on!” he shouted, “You’re a boggart! Riddikulus!”

There was a loud crack, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver stag stayed with him for a while longer, and Harry found himself grateful for the company as he continued searching for the Cup. <As soon as I get out of this maze, I’m definitely going to have a talk with Hermione…shouldn’t take too much longer now, should it?>

*******

… “Just take the cup!”

“No,” said Cedric.

He stepped over the spider’s tangled legs to join Harry, who stared at him. Cedric was serious. He was walking away from the sort of glory Hufflepuff House hadn’t had in centuries.

“Go on,” Cedric said. He looked as though this was costing him every ounce of resolution he had, but his face was set, his arms were folded, he seemed decided.

Harry looked from Cedric to the cup. For one shining moment, he saw himself emerging from the maze, holding it. He saw himself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Hermione’s face shining with admiration, more clearly than he had ever seen it before, along with a few other scenes that he couldn’t get out of his mind. But then, he found himself starting at Cedric’s shadowy, stubborn face.

“Both of us,” Harry said.

“What?”

“We’ll take it at the same time. It’s still a Hogwarts victory. We’ll tie for it.”

*******

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice <That’s Voldemort! But, why would I already know who it is?> say, “Kill the spare.”

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: “Avada Kedavra!”

A blast of green light blazed through Harry’s eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him. The pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, but somehow realizing that he already knew what had happened as if he had already experienced it, he opened his stinging eyes..

Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. He was dead.

*****

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry…and Harry stared back into the face that had killed his parents so long ago. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake’s with slits for nostrils…

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

***

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail’s arm.

The scar on Harry’s forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail’s mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

“How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?” he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. “And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?”

He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

“Ah…Mr. Potter! We meet again! I’m glad you could make it – wasn’t sure where you were until just recently. For some reason, my connection to you” and he touched Harry’s scar with his wand as he said this, causing another sharp pain to surge through Harry’s body, “hasn’t been working lately. But, within the hour, I was once again able to sense your thoughts. Seems you had a bit of trouble in that maze, eh? But, here you are, and you have done your part in reviving me. For that, I promise your death will be, well, I was going to say ‘quick and painless’, but I’m afraid it will be neither. First, though, I’m sure you are wondering why I summoned you to this graveyard. You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father…”

*****

As the Death Eaters listened with a mixture of horror and shame, Voldemort continued with his story of how he had survived to this point. “Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals – snakes, of course, being my preference – but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic…and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long…

“Then, four years ago…the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard – young, foolish, and gullible – wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of…for he was a teacher at Dumbledore’s school…he was easy to bend to my will…he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I was never allowed access to the Sorcerer’s Stone – somehow that Muggle-loving fool must have got wind of my plans and the stone was removed from Hogwarts. I don’t know how this happened, but I was thwarted in my plans by someone unknown…on whom I will have my revenge as soon as I find who it was.”

Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Death Eaters were quite motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Voldemort, and upon Harry.

“While I was in his body, though, I received word of an alternate plan…from a most unexpected source, which would allow me to regain my power with a new and powerful ally at my side. For a while, it appeared that all was in place, but again, due to the interference of an outside party, it appears that this plan, too, has been thwarted. Ah…when I find who is responsible, he or she will regret their interference for as long as they live – which won’t be that long!” he said with an evil chuckle. “But I digress. As with all the other bodies I possessed, the servant’s body was unable to sustain me for much longer. He died of fright one day on his way to obtain more unicorn blood for me in the Forbidden Forest – we were attacked by a three-headed dog and I had to transfer my essence into another nearby creature before his body was destroyed. I was as weak as ever I had been…”

*****

“Since there was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer’s Stone any more, and the other plan appeared to have failed also, I was able to come up with another plan. I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.”

“I knew that to achieve this – it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight – I would need three powerful ingredients Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant…

“My father’s bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe…Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who hated me…as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if he would not join me, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter’s blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago…for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too…

*****

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.

“Crucio!” For a brief moment, it was pain beyond anything Harry remembered ever experiencing; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar – and then, immediately, the pain was gone.

Miles away at Hogwarts, both Harmony and Hermione had fallen to the ground, unconscious.

Chapter 39 – Beginning…Again

(A/N – This chapter will start out with a flashback. I hope it’s not too confusing. Yes, there are some long canon sections that I’m not going to write out here, for obvious reasons.)

“Harmony, let’s go over the timeline and the plan one more time – I want to make sure we have everything covered on this critical night. Are you sure you can’t come down with us?” McGonagall said as she walked with Miss Puckle to a secluded area on the cliffs near the castle. They stopped when they could see the Quidditch pitch, now completely covered with tall hedges twisted and crisscrossed into a complex maze.

“Yes, Minerva, I’m quite sure I have to stay this far away from the action. Remember last year I had to take a sleeping draught to keep from interfering that night when Wormtail escaped, and this time, well…it’s much worse.”

“Yes…Cedric dies.” Minerva said with great sadness.

“And, after Harry has to be a witness to that horrible scene, here’s the timeline from what I remember. Over the course of this evening, Tom will attack Harry with two separate Cruciatus Curses and an Imperio. Harry may be attacked with a few other spells here and there until Riddle makes another attempt at an Avada Kedavra. But, thanks to the Priori Incantatem effect from their ‘brother’ wands, Harry will be able to block this one. While I know our soul-bond is numbed currently, my calculations indicate that the Crucios will break through, and both Albus and Poppy confirmed my findings. Since I know from experience that I will pass out in reaction to the curse, I assume Hermione will also. If we were both seen to respond to the attack in some way at the same time, it would draw too much attention to the two of us…which we don’t need right now. If there is one good thing to come out of all of this, Poppy did assure me that by draining off the power from these attacks, we will at the very least save Harry’s mind from further damage.”

Minerva agreed. “Yes; or possibly even his life – he’s obviously still suffering the effects of the original memory charm attacks that started this whole adventure and repeated attacks could weaken him to the point where he won’t be able to defend himself. But this way, he should also barely notice the Imperio or any other curses the Dark Lord tries on him, and he should have much less trouble taking control of the Reverse-spell effect since he won’t be anywhere near as drained magically. Now, you’re sure you’ll be fine up here by yourself? Wait, I just thought of something…you could use Harry’s invisibility cloak and you wouldn’t be seen at the critical times.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me – I will be able to see everything I need to from here, and no one will see me if and when I do collapse. I thought about the cloak, and it’s too risky – it might fall off of me when I fall. Besides, if I were any closer to the maze I’m afraid I would forget myself and take matters into my own hands when it comes to Barty Junior…I still don’t understand why Albus is not doing something to at least prevent Harry’s abduction when he returns, you know…”

“We’ve been over this before – Albus does not want us to disturb the time line any more than we have to – besides, Harry will be in no real danger this time. Albus has seen to that, at least.”

“Yes, I know, Minerva.” Harmony sighed. “I just wish that we had some other options – or that I didn’t know so much about the horrible things that are about to happen. Oh, look at the time – the task is almost ready to start. You’d better get down to the maze and take care of my younger self when she blacks out. If she weren’t seen there, that in itself would be strange, so she has to make an appearance. After the first attack, though, you should probably get her away from there. You don’t want to have to come up with a reasonable explanation for any strange behavior she may exhibit when Harry’s hit with Voldemort’s Imperio.”

(End Flashback)

“So, Harry…you seem to be abnormally resistant to my strongest Crucio. Again I am encountering more interference from your protector.” He reached out and again touched the lightning-bolt scar, and, instead of the expected pain, Harry could only feel a slightly annoying twinge…along with something else flowing into him as Tom attempted to probe his mind. “If only I could determine who it is that is doing this, but…I still sense no one else in your mind – just you. Ah, well, in a few moments, none of that will matter. Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.”

**********

“I said, bow,” Voldemort said, raising his wand – and Harry felt pressure on his back. Immediately he felt his spine stiffen in resistance, and instead of bowing, he seemed to be pushed into the soft dirt of the cemetery grounds. Voldemort’s anger increased and the Death Eaters’ scattered laughter quickly faded to silence.

“You still fight me, eh, Potter? Strange, no one has ever resisted me this successfully.” Voldemort’s voice sounded slightly concerned, and he lowered his wand.

As soon as Harry felt the pressure go away from his back, he bowed slightly, all the while looking his opponent directly in the eye. “If I bow, I will bow on my own terms, not yours.”

“Very well, then,” said Voldemort softly. “None of this cheekiness you are exhibiting matters in the long run, for now, you will face me like a man…straight backed and proud, the way your father died…

“And now – we duel.”

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry barely flinched as the Crucio curse dissipated even quicker this time. <What is happening? That much magical energy has to be going somewhere! Why isn’t it affecting me? I wonder if the bond is…but that means that he’s attacking…Hermione!>

“NO!” Harry yelled, as he saw Voldemort raise his wand again, no longer willing to embarrass himself in front of his supporters. As Harry shouted “Expelliarmus!” Voldemort cried, “Avada Kedavra!”

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort’s wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry’s – they met in midair – and suddenly Harry’s wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn’t have released it if he wanted to – and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold.

******

His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever…and now the beam between him and Voldemort changed too…it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands – As he felt power from an unknown source flow into him, Harry felt his wand give a slight shudder under his hand as the light beads slowly started to move in his direction. But then, as if he already knew what to do, he concentrated on moving the beads towards Voldemort. Immediately, Voldemort’s wand started shaking rapidly, and Voldemort looked quite fearful as he realized that he was being outmatched by a young boy. As soon as he looked at Tom, Harry realized that he could also sense Riddle’s fear very clearly.

Quickly, one bead connected with the tip of Voldemort’s wand, which began to emit echoing screams of pain …then – Voldemort’s red eyes widened even more in shock as a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished…

******

“Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!” shrieked Voldemort, as he watched Harry dodge his Death Eaters who were finding it difficult to hit him with any spells.

Harry’s hand had closed on Cedric’s wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, bud Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach –

Voldemort’s red eyes flashed in the darkness as he realized the advantage was now his again. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand.

“Accio!” Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup.

It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle –

He heard Voldemort’s scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked – it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, and Cedric along with him….They were going back.

*****

The person Harry had come to know as Professor Moody seemed to him to have gone completely mental as he continued to describe what he had done.

“Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. And, who, except for one time when I was caught off guard, frightened off every person or group that might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament. I did. And, by the way, Potter, in case you were wondering who attacked you early in the year, it was a few select former housemates of yours…you met their fathers earlier tonight, I dare say. Junior Death Eaters, they fancy themselves…following in the family tradition, I suppose. Now, where was I? Oh yes…Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? I did.”

*****

As he lay on his bed in the Hospital Wing, Harry was quite confused about his feelings. He wasn’t sure what was worse; the shock and horror of all the terrible things that had happened to him in the graveyard, seeing one of his classmates killed without a moment’s thought by Wormtail at the orders of a now-restored Lord Voldemort, the revelations from the traitor Barty Crouch Jr., or the betrayal he felt from certain adults whom he had previously trusted, especially after meeting with the Headmaster and hearing him defend his actions. As Pomfrey’s memory-numbing potion had fully worn off, he was now able to remember all the details of his relationship with Hermione for the past 4 years – and the more he remembered, the angrier he became as he recovered in the Hospital Wing. <How DARE they interfere with us, using the excuse that they were trying to protect Hermione! Besides, from what I heard, Hermione was still knocked out when I was Crucio’d, so their plan wasn’t even very effective. I remember warning him at the beginning of the year that this was none of their business, but they went ahead and did it anyway without our knowledge.

How can I face Hermione again? From what I can tell, the memory potion is still working on her, so she still doesn’t know about what they did to us. Oh, if it weren’t for me, she would have never been in danger from Tom in the first place – I’m sure she’d be happier if she’d never met me.>

But, as soon as he thought that, he realized it wasn’t true. <But then, she wouldn’t have survived that troll in the bathroom without me…>. Immediately, he realized that he shouldn’t even have had that thought. <That’s strange…why do I remember helping save Hermione from a troll? I only heard about it much later – I understood she saved herself with a Wingardium Leviosa…but somewhere in my mind, I seem to remember jumping on a troll’s back…while RON used the levitation spell to drop the troll’s club on his head…but that never happened, did it? And, what does Miss Puckle have to do with this…in my mind, she’s there, too…helping Hermione? And, where IS Miss Puckle? I haven’t seen her since before the third task started. I’m not too happy with her because of her part in all this…>

Before he could continue that thought, he was interrupted by visitors he would rather not have to face. However, he knew he could not avoid this unpleasant duty. “Mr. Diggory…Mrs. Diggory.”

“Harry…” The Diggorys sat down next to his bed, both looking quite numb with shock as they tried to understand what had happened.

They did not blame him for what had happened; on the contrary, both thanked him for returning Cedric’s body to them. Mr. Diggory sobbed through most of the interview. Mrs. Diggory’s grief seemed to be beyond tears.

******

Harry returned to Gryffindor tower the following evening. From what Hermione had told him, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry alone, that nobody ask him questions or badger him to tell the story of what happened in the maze. Most people, Ron included, took this to heart and seemed to avoid him as much as possible.

Hermione, however, was a different story. At first, Harry was slightly concerned that she seemed to always be close to him whenever he looked up. Not that she was hovering, mind you, but he noticed she was always nearby. The few times he caught her eye, he thought she looked like she wanted to say something to him, but would quickly think better of it and concentrate on her knitting or whichever book she was reading. However, today, as he sat in the common room he found was glad she was near, sitting in the chair next to his, pretending to read the latest Daily Prophet. He found that her presence in his mind seemed to be quite calming. <Wait a minute…her presence…in MY mind…and…I can sense some of her thoughts, too! Wonder if I’m a Legilimens…or is that an Occlumens? …. Blimey, Harry, how did I know about Legilimency, or Occlumency? I’ve never even heard of those before…or have I?>

“Harry…Harry, are you okay?” Hermione was shaking him gently by the shoulder as she leaned over him.

“Wha…what? Oh, Hermione…what’s wrong? Did I doze off or something?”

“Well, not really, Harry.” She continued to stare deeply into his eyes with a look of worry on her face. “You were just sitting there, staring at me for the longest time, and you had this weird looking grin on your face, and I thought…well, I was beginning to think you had ‘gone round the twist’ for a while. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey, or Dumbledore, maybe?”

“NO!” he yelled quite forcefully. At her pained expression, Harry immediately apologized. “Sorry about that, Hermione. While I’m grateful that Dumbledore kept me from being attacked by the fake Professor Moody, I am still quite angry with them over…well, something else that Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Puckle and McGonagall did this year and I’ve got to decide how best to handle things. In the mean time, its best that I stay away from them…for now. And, before you ask, Hermione, I know what you’re about to ask, <Literally, in this case…> and, no, I’m not quite ready to talk to you about it yet. Soon, though…I promise. I have something I need to do for you first. Now, you’ve been following me around ever since…well, you know…and I got the impression you had something to say to me. No, don’t worry; I’m not upset with you for being around. In fact, I really do appreciate it, truth be told.”

“Harry…how did you know that was exactly what I was thinking? Do you know me that well? It’s almost as if you could read my mind…but that’s silly.” she said as she smiled at him shyly.

<You have no idea…> he thought, as he said in reply, “Never mind about that, Hermione. What did you want to say to me?”

“Well, there are a few things, actually. First, Mrs. Weasley…” Hermione stammered and blushed as she tried to answer him. “…er…she asked Professor Dumbledore if you could go straight to the Burrow this summer. But he wants you to go back to the Dursleys, at least at first.”

“Why?” said Harry. And, what does this have to do with you?”

“She said he’s got his reasons,” she said, and then she blushed even more. “And…well, I was …hoping that….instead of you…”

“Yes, Hermione? What’s got you so worked up? I swear your face is redder than I’ve ever seen it!” he said, chuckling knowingly at her embarrassment since he could sense what was coming.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and started in again. “Well, I…was kind of hoping that you could stay with me…I mean, with my family, this summer after the headmaster says it is okay.” Hermione quickly started to backtrack at Harry’s neutral expression. “That is…if you want to…I mean, I’m sure you’d have more fun with Ron, anyway, practicing Quidditch and all, and Mrs. Weasley’s a really good cook, probably much better than my mum, and you could chat with Ginny, she fancies you still, you know, and all you’d have at my house is me…and you‘d probably get bored there…and…”

Hermione’s nervous nattering was cut mercifully short by Harry’s finger being placed gently on her lips. “I’d love to, Hermione. As soon as Dumbledore gives me permission to leave my prison sentence at Privet Drive, I’d be glad to come and stay with you…and your parents. You have an extra room next to yours, right? That would be fine.”

“How…how’d you know about the extra room?” Hermione said, but before he could answer, they saw Ron enter the common room, attempting to look nonchalant as he tried to pretend he didn’t see Harry sitting there while he walked towards the boy’s staircase.

“Remember what I said, Hermione…I’ll tell you all about it later.” Harry said quietly, forgetting for the moment that she had wanted to talk to him about more than one thing.

While he hadn’t been that close to Hagrid up until this point, he found that the half-giant was the only person besides Hermione that Harry felt able to talk to. As there was no longer a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, he had those lessons free, and he and Hermione used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin.

******

“The end,” said Dumbledore, looking around them all, “of another year.”

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall. He then looked at the staff table, and was both surprised and concerned to see Miss Puckle sitting there, looking noticeably pale and weak as she sat next to a restored Professor Moody.

“There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight,” said Dumbledore, “but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here,” he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, “enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory.”

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, “Cedric Diggory.”

Harry caught a glimpse of Cho Chang through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face. Once again, he had a flashback of her crying…in a dark room…under what looked like mistletoe…and leaning towards him…and him patting her awkwardly on the back…

Dumbledore, who had continued to speak while Harry considered this strange scene in his mind, said something next that grabbed his full attention, not to mention the attention of all the students in the hall. “Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.”

******

“Bye, Harry!” said Hermione, and she did something she never remembered doing before, and kissed him on the cheek. Harry looked at her with a wry grin on his face, and thought <Hermione, I know you can do better than that!>. She gasped as she recognized the voice in her mind. <Harry…what is happening? Why can I hear you in my head? And what exactly did you mean by that comment, anyway?>

<Wait…this time let me be the one to help you see something…> And with that, he used some skills he had recently acquired from a certain Dark Lord to remove the effects of Madame Pomfrey’s potion from Hermione’s mind. As all the memories that had been blocked came flooding back to her, tears of joy and relief ran down her cheeks as she heard Harry’s familiar voice sound lovingly in her mind - <…you know, ‘Mione, after all we’ve been through, I’d hate to have to begin things all over again!>

*****End of YEAR FOUR****

(A/N – All the rest of the canon story would be just about the same – Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall rescuing Harry from Barty, Fudge and Dumbledore’s parting of the ways, the whole Rita Skeeter in the jar incident, and George and Fred getting the thousand galleon reward to start the joke shop – nothing’s changed significantly this time around. Just remember, Harry still hasn’t recovered ALL of his memories yet – just the blocked ones about Hermione that go back to the beginning of the time loop…but soon – VERY soon, he will remember the rest. As you may have noticed, in this chapter the process has already started. When that happens, Harry may just consider the last thought he shared with Hermione to be an understatement! We’ll also find out more about what happened to Miss Puckle, but again, it’s not too difficult to figure that one out, is it?)

Chapter 40 – Harry’s Breakthrough

(A/N – Okay, hang on to your hats – here comes the fifth year…things will be interesting, to say the least.)

After Harry and Hermione had said their good-byes at King’s Cross, they had each gone to their respective homes. Soon, however, they realized they could sense each other’s presence occasionally at first, but more frequently as time went on, through their reawakening soul-bond. It seemed to be strongest when they were resting in their own beds each night. Because of this, Petunia and Vernon both noticed that Harry seemed almost excited when they told him it was time to go to bed, no matter how early they sent him upstairs after he finished his chores. “That proves the boy’s not right in his head!” Vernon huffed one evening to his wife. “Normal boys of that age should be more like Dudley…out and about, exploring the world, learning how to be a real man, doing all he can to avoid bedtime…but that one, he goes up to his room without a peep, and we never hear from him ‘til he gets up to fix breakfast.”

Petunia nodded in agreement, “Yes, and this summer I’ve never once had to punish him for getting up late. He’s always so…well rested…and he seems so happy most of the time. He must be sleeping quite well – not like my Dudders. He’s always so tired in the morning after staying up playing with his little friends every night. They’re such sweet boys!”

Harry, of course, never felt tired as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, knowing that soon he would be able to hear Hermione’s voice in his mind as clearly as if she were in the same bed with him, filling him in on what she had done that day and listening to him as he did the same until it was time to say good-night. If the Dursley’s had known all this, they would have done all that they could to keep him awake. The only thing that bothered him slightly is that Hermione seemed to be unwilling to follow up on her offer to have Harry come stay at her house before the start of the new term. All she would say about it is that there was a change in plans in the works, but he would most likely be seeing her soon.

But, as it was, Harry had his most pleasant summer ever at Privet Drive. This good mood even made it easier for him to be friendly with his neighbor, Mrs. Figg, who seemed to never be too far away each time he was outside. She was usually muttering to herself when he saw her walking by, but whenever she noticed him in the yard she’d usually ask him around for tea. Each time he declined politely as he still had unpleasant memories of long hours spent looking at picture albums of her cats.

Memories…both pleasant and unpleasant - were causing Harry the most problems right now. Hermione’s kiss on his cheek, which somehow had allowed Harry to enter her mind and remove the effects of Pomfrey’s potion, had started a similar process in Harry’s mind.

One night in early August, as he got ready for bed, he thought back on when he began to notice something strange was happening. It was, he remembered, when he pushed his luggage to the car park at King’s Cross. He instinctively found himself heading towards a very expensive car, and he was quite surprised when Vernon cursed at him for being blind as the Dursely’s stood next to the same car that Harry had ridden in many times before. Then, upon arrival at Privet Drive, as he unloaded Hedwig’s cage and his trunk, he had a feeling of great foreboding come over him as he entered the front door. He felt as if he were about to be attacked as soon as he entered the house. However, he entered without incident and took his effects up to the second bedroom.

Later that first day, though, he had walked past his old cupboard on his way into the kitchen to prepare the Dursley’s evening meal. Suddenly, his heart had started to race and he couldn’t catch his breath. <What is wrong with me? I felt as if…someone were forcing me into that place…and I can’t move at all, and… no, no, not in there again…I can’t go back in there….NO!... NO! HERMIONE!>

The next thing he knew he was sputtering from the warm water that Dudley had thrown in his face…teapot and all. “MUM! HARRY’S ACTING STRANGE” he yelled, while sticking out his tongue at his cousin.

Petunia had come down the stairs in a huff, and was even more upset when she saw the large puddle of water mixed with blood (the pot had hit him squarely in his nose, which was now bleeding freely) and the mark the pot had made as it hit the wall. “What’s all this?” she cried. “Dudley, please explain to me who is responsible for this mess…as if I didn’t know already.”

“Well, Mum, I was in the kitchen heating up some water for a spot of tea and I saw Harry standing by his old bedroom. It looked like he was frozen or something. Then, it looked like he was struggling…like he was getting out of some ropes. Then I though I heard him saying ‘no, no…I can’t…’, and then it sounded like he said some girl’s name… Hermoninny or some such. I though he was having a fit, so I grabbed the teapot to throw some water on him. Sorry, Harry, I guess I must have got carried away and the pot accidentally slipped when I threw it.” Harry, of course, knew that it was no accident.

Petunia turned to her nephew and said, “Harry, stop bleeding on my clean floor and clean this all up before you start cooking our dinner! Tomorrow, you’ll have to patch this wall and repaint the whole area. If it doesn’t match perfectly, we’ll have you do the whole ground floor, so you’d better be careful.”

For the next few weeks, much of which was spent with a brush or a roller in his hand, Harry had been faced with other memories, too…flashes from what appeared to be from someone else’s life…or was it? These flashes lasted longer and came more and more frequently, mixed in with more recent, horrific nightmares. Nightmares that caused him to wake up moaning most nights… memories of Cedric dying…of Wormtail cutting off his own hand…and of Voldemort, rising from a cauldron in a graveyard…and then, there were the angry memories. Dumbledore, trying to explain just why it was that he, McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and Miss Puckle had conspired together to temporarily block his memories…and Hermione, Ron, and Ginny’s, too. And, not just any memories – no, they blocked the very things that would have given him joy…and hope for the future. No, it was not good to dwell on those memories, either – best to think about other things, here in his bedroom when he would soon be hearing…

“POTTER…POTTER! LISTEN TO ME, BOY!” As Harry opened his eyes slowly, he saw Vernon’s purple face looming large in front of him as he as he opened his eyes. “WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE!” He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him roughly out of bed. WHAT ARE YOU DREAMING ABOUT?” Vernon roared, turning a deeper purple as he built up steam with his diatribe. “Better not be that…that…girl I saw you with at the station! I saw the look on your face just now – you were thinking of her, weren’t you? Well, don’t get thinking along those lines. Just what we need, you getting with one of those witches at your school and making even more of your kind – just like Petunia’s sister and that layabout father of yours. Disgusting! Get your mind out of the gutter! I don’t want you having funny dreams about ANY of your unnatural friends or that school of yours.”

Harry’s sense of déjà vu came back very strongly as he listened to Vernon’s rant – he KNEW he had heard this before…but when? <And I’m getting that feeling again…that I’m about to be attacked - but that makes no sense!>

Vernon, who realized that Harry was no longer paying attention to him, grabbed him around the throat.

“Get – off – me!” Harry gasped; for a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncle’s sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised wand which he had instinctively grabbed from the nightstand. Then, suddenly, Uncle Vernon yelped and released Harry as though he had received a very nasty electric shock – some invisible force seemed to have surged through his nephew, making him impossible to hold.

Vernon looked at him, slightly bewildered, but soon gathered up his nerve and said to Harry, “You, get dressed…you’re going out tonight…we think you’re enjoying yourself entirely too much in your bedroom, thinking about whatever unnaturalness you were thinking about, so tonight, I don’t want to see you anywhere around here until whenever Dudley comes home, but not a minute later or I’ll lock you in the shed. You understand, boy?”

That is why Harry found himself aimlessly wandering the streets around Privet Drive, not sure what to do this time of night, realizing that he would rather be listening to Hermione tell him about her day while he lay in bed. As he turned a corner into Magnolia Crescent, he passed the narrow alleyway where he had first clapped eyes on his godfather, Sirius. <Wonder where he is now? He keeps on sending me letters, but they don’t seem to say much…>

He crossed Magnolia Crescent, turned into Magnolia Road, and headed toward the darkening play park. He vaulted over the locked park gate and set off across the parched grass. The park was as empty as the surrounding streets. When he reached the swings he sank onto the only one that Dudley and his friends had not managed to break, coiled one arm around the chain, and stared moodily at the ground. But then, as he sat there quietly thinking, his heart leaped in his chest as he heard a familiar voice in his head. <Harry… Harry…what’s wrong? I’ve been trying to reach you for a while now, ever since I felt…well, that you were in danger somehow – I thought that someone was attacking you. Then, I felt an energy surge come from you, then there was nothing. Are you okay? I’ve been so worried…I wanted to phone you, but then I realized that you’ve never given me your phone number…and with what’s been happening recently, I never thought I’d need it!>

Harry responded quickly. <Oh, don’t worry, Hermione. Vernon was just encouraging me to get out a bit more at night. Thinks Dudley should be my role-model, I suppose – wanted me to stay out until whale-boy comes home tonight. I’m fine…honestly! Now, how are you doing? Everything okay at your home? I’m sure looking forward to visiting you and meeting your parents. Have you got an answer from…HIM yet?>

<Well, as I told you already, plans have changed. First, yes, I have been in touch with Headmaster Dumbledore. He still has a name, you know. Even if I am still not too pleased with what he did to us, I am at least able to maintain a civil relationship with him. And that has resulted in this change in plans…I haven’t been at home for some time now, actually…but I honestly can’t tell you any more just yet, so please don’t ask. Trust me, Harry…I’ll be seeing you as soon as I can…and then, well, I have something planned for you. I hope you’ll like it!>

Harry smiled. <That depends…will this something you are planning be any way similar to what we did at the end of last summer…at the Burrow? You DO remember that night now, don’t you?>

Harry swore he could almost feel her embarrassment through the bond as she responded, trying to sound like she was having trouble recalling certain events. <Hmmm. Well, yes, Harry, now that you mention it, I do seem to remember…something about that night. Let’s see…Ginny snoring…Ron snoring…Fred and George snoring in unison, Percy snoring…Molly and Arthur snoring…is that what you’re referring to?>

<Oh…very funny, ‘Mione. You’re a regular comedian. I’m sure if you were here…or I was there, wherever there is, I would be able to refresh your memory, wouldn’t I? Or maybe, I can do it from here.> Once again, he could tell she was blushing even more as he reached into her mind and replayed a certain scene of him descending the stairs…and, Hermione saying -“Took you long enough, Potter…”

The pleasant scene was interrupted by the sound of voices making their way across the park. <Sorry, Hermione, got to go. Someone’s coming this way. Stay up for a while…when I finally get to go to bed, I’ll say good night then.>

<Okay, Harry...I’ll wait for you...>

As the group got closer, Harry knew who these people were. The figure in front was unmistakably his cousin, Dudley, wending his way home, accompanied by his faithful gang. Harry, who had never gotten his cousin back for the teapot in the face incident and the resulting hours Harry had spent painting and repainting the entire ground floor until it was perfectly matched, was hoping that tonight would be the night.

Look round, Harry found himself thinking as he watched them. Come on…look round…I’m sitting here all alone…Come and have a go…

*****

“And now, Poppy, do you have anything new to report on the status of your patient?” Albus looked hopefully at his head nurse at the conclusion of the first Hogwarts staff meeting of the month that same evening. But, any hopes of a change were dashed immediately as Madame Pomfrey shook her head sadly.

“No, Albus…ever since we found her passed out in her room on the afternoon the students returned to King’s Cross, she hasn’t so much as moved. My last check of her aura shows she’s still nearly completely drained of her magical energy. If only I had been more persuasive when I told her not to attend that farewell feast…”

Professor Snape grimaced. “Merlin, not this again…Madame Pomfrey, please do not launch into another round of self-recrimination and guilt. We’ve been through this…over…and over…and over again, as the minutes will attest. I don’t see what all the fuss is about Miss Puckle, anyway. The only thing that matters to me is if she will be able to carry out her duties as an assistant professor when school resumes. If not, I am of the opinion she should be sacked, transported to St. Mungo’s for long-term treatment, and replaced with another likely candidate. That is what you did to Gilderoy, if I recall correctly. Of course, this is assuming that there is a need for the position to continue in the first place.” He glanced smugly at Filius as he said, acidly “I, for one, do not understand why Hogwarts needs an assistant professor in any subject. If the professor of a subject is unable to handle the course load, maybe we should find someone who is.”

Before Professor Flitwick could come up with an appropriate response, Dumbledore raised his hands, signaling for quiet. “Severus, we’ve been over THAT before, too…and, as I have reminded you each time, those comments are completely uncalled for. Miss Puckle is one of our own, and we will take care of her. Poppy, please let me know immediately of any change in her status. I am very sure I know what will cure Miss Puckle’s current condition; unfortunately there are reasons why I cannot act on this knowledge at this time. But now, it is time to adjourn this meeting.”

……

At nearly the same time, another meeting was also breaking up. “Thank you, Undersecretary, for your …interesting…suggestion as to our course of action in this matter. The Ministry will take this recommendation under advisement. But now, it is time to adjourn this meeting.” Cornelius Fudge rose from his chair, effectively ending the discussion as the other members of the council followed suit quickly.

As she left the meeting chambers that night, smiling her toad-like smile, Dolores Umbridge was seething inside. <Fools! Weak-minded fools! The whole Ministry is acting like sheep…bleating for that Potter whelp to be silenced, but refusing to do something about it…Well, I’ll have to take matters into my own capable hands right this minute…and then we’ll see what Fudge thinks of me then. Not that that matters…if I’m successful tonight, I’m sure that there will be certain…well-connected wizards who will be quite pleased with me…and less so with Cornelius for his failure to take action. We shall see what that does to our respective fortunes in the Ministry…yes…we shall see…>

******

Dudley backed into the alley wall. Harry was pointing the wand directly at Dudley’s heart. Harry could feel what seemed like two lifetimes worth of hatred towards Dudley pounding in his veins – what wouldn’t he give to strike now, to jinx Dudley so thoroughly he’d have to crawl home like an insect, struck dumb, sprouting feelers –

“Don’t ever talk about Cedric again…he’s a friend of mine who was killed recently.” Harry snarled. “D’you understand me?”

“Point that thing somewhere else!”

“I said, do you understand me?”

“Point it somewhere else!”

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

“GET THAT THING AWAY FROM -”

Dudley gave an odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.

Something had happened to the night…

****

A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly toward him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.

Stumbling backward, Harry raised his wand.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of the wand and the dementor slowed, but, as had happened in the maze just a few weeks earlier, Harry was having some trouble thinking of a sufficiently happy memory. This time, however, it was worse – instead of a boggart pretending to be a dementor, this was the real thing…and Harry again realized that there was something…that he couldn’t quite remember, as if he had done this all before.

Harry retreated farther as the dementor bore down upon him, panic fogging his brain – concentrate –

A pair of gray, slimy scabbed hands slid from inside the dementor’s robes, reaching for him. A rushing noise filled Harry’s ears.

“Expecto Patronum!”

His voice sounded dim and distant…Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand – he couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t work the spell –

But then, a familiar, calm voice entered his head. <Harry…I’m here…what’s wrong? You’re in trouble, I know… What can I do to help? Wait a minute…what’s wrong with your mind? It’s a memory block of some kind. Since you were so kind to remove the one I had, let me return the favor. OH! Now I see the dementor! Well, don’t you remember what happened the last time you showed me your Patronus? Think of me…with my arms around you…on the back of a silver stag!>

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

An enormous silver stag erupted once again from the tip of Harry’s wand; its antlers caught the dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown across the alleyway, weightless as darkness, and as the stag struck again, the dementor seemed to evaporate as the sharp prongs struck home.

“THIS WAY!” Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. “DUDLEY? DUDLEY!”

He had run barely a dozen steps when he reached them: Dudley was curled on the ground, his arms clamped over his face; a second dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head toward Dudley’s face as though about to kiss him…

“GET IT!” Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag he and Hermione had conjured together came galloping past him. The dementor’s eyeless face was barely an inch away from Dudley’s when the shining silver antlers caught it; this time, however, the dementor immediately evaporated at the first contact. As the moon, stars, and streetlamps burst back into life the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway, tossing his head proudly, then trotted back to Dudley’s side. He kneeled down, allowing Dudley to grab his fur. As the stag arose, Dudley found himself lifted bodily from the ground until he was standing on his feet. The glow from the stag seemed to revive him immediately, and he looked almost cheerful for a moment as Harry walked over to where he stood next to Harry’s Patronus.

He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging! Before he could say anything to his cousin, he heard loud, running footsteps behind him; instinctively raising his wand again, he spun on his heel to face the newcomer.

Mrs. Figg, their batty old neighbor, came panting into sight. Her grizzled gray hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist, and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but –

“Don’t put it away, idiot boy!” she shrieked. “What if there are more of them around. Nice Patronus, by the way, Harry…Oh, I’m going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!”

“What?” said Harry blankly.

“He left!” said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. “Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I’d flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It’s just lucky I put Mr. Tibbles on the case, and very lucky you can create a Patronus that powerful. I’ve never even heard of one that would last this long., but yours seems to be solid enough that I dare say you and your idiot cousin could ride it home!”

At this, Harry immediately realized that he would never allow Dudley to sit on his Patronus – that spot was reserved for someone else – someone who had just saved both their lives by unblocking…

As soon as he focused on that thought, three things happened simultaneously. Harry realized that he was starting to remember everything that had happened to him. Hermione, who had been sitting up in her bed concentrating on helping Harry, fell back on her pillow, unconscious; while miles away, in her private quarters at Hogwarts, Miss Harmony June Puckle gasped suddenly and her eyes snapped open. <So…Harry’s memories are returning…this ought to be interesting!>

*****

As he entered the strange house in the company of the advance guard who had been sent to collect him from Privet Drive, he saw Ron’s mother, Mrs. Weasley, emerging from a door at the far end of the hall. “Oh, Harry, we’re so glad you came. I’m afraid Hermione needs you…badly.” Mrs. Weasley whispered, pulling him into a rib-cracking hug before holding him at arm’s length and examining him critically. “Ever since you were attacked by the dementors four days ago, we haven’t been able to rouse her. She seems to be sleeping peacefully, though. We’ve even tried using an Ennervate on her, to no avail… but Albus says he thinks you might be able to do something.” She winked at him knowingly.

Ever since the attack that night, Harry had been nearly frantic with worry over Hermione. For, while he could remember just why he had been having memory flashes of a previous life for all these years, he could no longer hear Hermione’s voice in his head. He was so desperate that he even gave Hedwig an urgent message to deliver to Headmaster Dumbledore, as he realized that Hermione’s present safety was more important at the moment than the anger he still felt. Strangely, though, he realized he could sense the presence of someone else, though; someone familiar…and pleasant…but he couldn’t figure out who it could be. Harry couldn’t concern himself with that mystery at present – he had more pressing concerns.

“Where is she? Can you take me to her?” Harry said, worry in his voice.

Mrs. Weasley pressed her finger to her lips. “Harry, please keep your voice down in the hall.” He nodded as he instinctively remembered the reason for the warning. She said, whispering, “I’ve got to hurry to a meeting. Ron will show you where you are sleeping, and then he’ll take you to her room. Don’t worry; your room is next to hers. You’ll be able to attend to her soon enough.”

As they tiptoed past a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains, behind which Harry knew now that a painting of Sirius’ mother was hidden, and after skirting a large, familiar umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from a severed troll’s leg, they parted company at the base of the stairs, where Ron was waiting. Molly went back into the room where a meeting of this Order he had just found out about was being held, while Ron led him up a dark staircase, passing a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer look reminded Harry that the heads belonged to house-elves. All of them had the same rather snout-like nose. He KNEW this place…it belonged to Sirius’s mum…and that meant he would be seeing Sirius again…and he remembered what was supposed to happen. <Not this time, Sirius…I’ve learned my lesson.>

Ron whispered as they continued to climb the stairs. “Shh, Harry…you’ll find out all of that soon enough.” Soon, Ron led him down a dank hallway. “Harry…your room is here…and this is where Hermione is…and before you ask, yes, the potion has worn off for both Ginny and me, so we both remember what you two told us that night. Harry, before you go in, I have something to say to you. Don’t worry, I’ll be quick. You know, I’ve been a bit jealous of you two, especially after I saw her with you at the Yule Ball, but…I guess I’m over it, now. When we first got here, as the potion had worn off, the three of us had a little chat. Hermione told us some of what had happened, and filled us in on some details about a certain…picnic you two had at the end of third year, not to mention what you two were doing in MY kitchen and MY yard that night last year…” he winked cheekily at Harry, who smiled back.

“Anyway, I guess Hermione has made it clear just who she wants to take care of her…she won’t let me in her room, even though she’s unconscious. She’ll only let Ginny or Mum in to check on her, and Pig’s in there, too. Ginny says he’s her watch-owl…whatever that means. If I go anywhere near her door…well, just stand back, Harry, and watch.”

Ron reached for the doorknob on Hermione’s bedroom door. As he turned the serpent-shaped handle and started to push the door open, there was a loud bang and Ron was thrown across the narrow hallway as the door slammed shut. He winced as he stood up, and said with a grimace. “Please, Harry, go wake her up. Even when she’s asleep, she’s scary… brilliant, but scary! She must know you’re here - that was actually one of the nicer things she’s done to me. She’s been horrid to me since she passed out! Why, just yesterday Mum told me to take some fresh bed linens in to her room. As soon as I opened the door, I found myself in the kitchen, with my trousers and underpants missing – but then I realized my underpants were pulled down over my ears. I was barely able to set things right before Tonks came in! You’d better get in there – Dumbledore says she’s been waiting for you, mate.”

Harry reached for the doorknob with some trepidation, as he thought rapidly <’Mione, it’s me, Harry. Let me in… please?>. As he pushed the door open cautiously, he found himself in a darkened room as the door closed gently behind him. Then, Harry heard the door lock click quite audibly as Pig hooted cheerfully in greeting from his perch in the corner. The light in the room slowly increased as Harry walked over to the bed where Hermione lay peacefully, her bushy brown hair spilling over the pillow and framing her slightly paler than normal face. She was still dressed in the periwinkle blue pajamas that she had been wearing when she had collapsed. As he sat down, he took her hand gently in his and was relieved to feel her warmth. Harry looked down at her and thought < I really do like that color of blue on her… Beautiful as an angel…that’s what she is>. He was quite relieved as she responded through the bond - <Harry, did you just call me…beautiful?>

Harry then saw her eyes flicker slightly as the color returned to her cheeks. Pig had now taken flight and began to zoom excitedly round and round their heads. As Hermione’s eyes opened fully she said sleepily, “Harry…you’re here! You’re finally here! Took you long enough, Potter…”

*****

After his private and emotional reunion with Hermione, followed soon after by one of a different nature with Sirius; Harry was as happy as he could ever remember being. He was once again reconnected with the two people who meant the most to him; his now restored girlfriend and his once-again living godfather. It was especially meaningful because he could now remember what his stupidity had done to each of them individually in the previous timeline, and he vowed that he would not let that happen to them again. Ethical discussions about the risks of changing timelines could be left to the philosophers; to Harry, only Hermione and Sirius’s continued protection from harm and death, respectively, mattered now.<Besides>, he rationalized, <I already know there are differences in the timeline this time around, so what’s the harm in a few more…especially ones that protect their lives?> The residents of Grimmauld Place all noticed that no matter where Harry was over the next few days, either learning about Percy’s falling out with the Weasleys; the Black family history; or being told more about the Order of the Phoenix; he made sure he was never far from either Hermione or Sirius.

Fortunately, Harry was no longer the same ANGRY Harry he had been previously. Since he had begun to recall all the memories that had been blocked by Bella’s curses, he knew what he had put everyone else through and he didn’t want to do that again. Also, since he was much more mature this time around, he decided he wouldn’t waste his energy by yelling at his friends and loved ones. And, after talking things over seriously with Hermione, he decided that this restraint would also extend to three adults who he felt had seriously violated his and Hermione’s trust. He still wasn’t happy with what they had done, but due to Hermione pointing out that no real harm was done to any of them and that they felt they were doing the best they could, he decided to let it go for now. “But, I still would like a chance for us to discuss this with the three of them when we get back to Hogwarts.”

Harry also had other targets for his anger, based on his memories of what had happened to him both in the original timeline and the time loop to this point, and he decided that he would be better off in the long run focusing his energies on his true enemies…that is, when he wasn’t helping in the cleaning of Grimmauld Place, avoiding Kreacher’s foul moods, or trying to not disturb the portrait of Sirius’s mum.

But first, there was the small matter of a trial at the Ministry of Magic…Harry, of course, remembered EXACTLY what happened last time. However, since he had not thought it wise to tell anyone about his unique knowledge he felt he had to go through the motions, confident that this scene would play out much the same way as before. The one thing he did differently was to urge Arthur to floo ahead to check the time of the hearing VERY carefully that morning, so they were right on time to enter the chamber…much to the displeasure of Cornelius Fudge and a few others.

As he first caught a glimpse of Dolores this time, sitting so far back on the bench that her face was hidden in shadow, he was surprised at the powerful anger he felt surge in him. It was strong enough for Hermione to notice and she immediately called out to his mind. <Harry…what’s wrong? Are you all right? I just felt something coming from you…if I didn’t know better; I would think it was pure hatred. Care to explain?>

As he struggled to regain control of his emotional response, he tried to calm her worries. Harry had not yet explained to Hermione exactly what she had done when she removed his memory block, because he wasn’t sure she would believe him. <Sorry, Hermione…I just saw…well, I can’t explain now. I promise I will tell you everything when we get back to Hogwarts…I need to talk to a few people with you first. Besides, the hearing is just about to begin, and I need to pay attention.>

She didn’t sound too pleased with his evasive response, but she didn’t press it at the moment. <Okay, Harry…but soon, I hope you can help me figure out what’s going on. I see some…strange memories in your mind from time to time that don’t make any sense.>

“Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,” said Fudge in a ringing voice…

******

“Very well…very well…cleared of all charges.”

“Excellent,” said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. This time, however, Harry was ready for Dumbledore’s attempt at escaping and positioned himself right in the doorway.

As the headmaster tried to avoid looking into the boy’s eyes, Harry would have none of it and stared directly at him. “Professor Dumbledore, sir…Hermione and I need to meet with you, Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and Miss Puckle immediately after the welcoming feast is over upon our return to school. Do not put me off or try to avoid looking at me. I know why you think you must, and that is one of the things we need to discuss. Oh, and one more thing…you need to seriously reconsider your choice for Gryffindor’s prefect before you make a big mistake. Now, headmaster, I bid you good day.”

This time it was Harry who swept from the dungeon, after once again looking into his headmaster’s eyes and not feeling the slightest discomfort.

(A/N…Before you ask, no, Harry didn’t hear Mundungus disapparate this time.)

Chapter 41 – Hermione Squared

(A/N – This chapter title has been in my head since this plot bunny originally invaded my brain. Hope you like it…the chapter, that is.)

“I knew it!” yelled Ron, punching the air. “They didn’t do anything when you blew up your Aunt, how could you not be cleared of defending yourself against dementors?”

Hermione, of course, had known his good news immediately through their bond, but Harry had asked her to keep it quiet until he and Mr. Weasley returned from the hearing. They had already agreed that it wasn’t a good idea to let everyone in on the details of their connection. They knew that it was a very personal, private gift they shared, and truth be told they were still getting used to it themselves. Also, they realized if they kept it quiet, Tom Riddle and the Death Eaters (<Hmmm…sounds like a bad rock and roll band name, doesn’t it?> Hermione thought to Harry one day) would be more likely to underestimate his opponent’s resources and abilities.

Hermione, acting the role of the worried girlfriend that Harry had asked her to perform, looked positively faint with anxiety when Harry had entered the kitchen and was now holding a shaking hand over her eyes. “There was no case against you, none at all…” <How’d I do, Harry…did I sound worried enough?> she asked through their link.

<You did great, ’Mione…I’ll give you your acting award later. Hope you’ll like it!> he responded. To the assembled residents of Grimmauld Place, he said, “Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering they all knew I’d get off” said Harry, smiling.

Mrs. Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, and Fred, George, and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went “He got off, he got off, he got off –“

*****

“Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you,” said Ron happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potatoes onto everyone’s plates.

“Yeah, I admit he swung it for me, and I do appreciate it,” said Harry. “Funny thing, though. For a second there I knew…or remembered…he was trying to avoid me…but I wasn’t about to let that happen. I made sure I got a chance to talk to him for a moment. Hermione, I got the distinct impression from our conversation today that he’s going to want to meet with us our first evening back.” Harry, who was working on controlling what Hermione could sense through the bond, had successfully kept that scene from her. He really wasn’t looking forward to a lecture on proper respect to his elders from Hermione, considering his feelings for the headmaster were still quite confused.

“Oooh…what do you think it’s about? Does it have something to do with being a prefect? Someone should be getting their badges soon, don’t you think, Harry?”

“Oh, I’m certain of it…” he said, grinning.

“HE GOT OFF; HE GOT OFF: HE GOT OFF –“

“SHUT UP!” roared Mrs. Weasley.

****

As he welcomed Miss Puckle into his office where Minerva was already seated for their late-night meeting that same evening, Harmony said to him with a grin on her face, “Well, Albus, I DID warn you, you know! Harry’s not about to roll over and let things happen the same way they did last time now that his memories are starting to return. I assume he’s also asked you to reconsider him instead of Ron for the prefect position?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Yes, Harmony, you did warn me…and he did ask. As soon as you awoke the day the dementors attacked, and you told me what you had felt when you regained consciousness, I was already resigned to the fact that there would be changes coming. Then, when I heard from Molly that Hermione had collapsed at exactly the same time, it confirmed to me that Bella’s memory block had been completely removed from his mind. Apparently, as the soul-bond is continuing to grow, he seems to be drawing magical power from first one, then the other of you in times of great emotional stress, either positive or negative. When Harry removed Hermione’s block that day at King’s Cross after she kissed him on the cheek, it appears that your mind was overloaded by this outburst of magical energy.”

Albus stopped for a moment as he considered what he had just said, but then he continued. “However interesting that information may prove, our more pressing problem is how we deal with Harry’s newly recovered memories and the logical consequences that knowledge will bring. As you know, he has demanded a meeting after the welcoming feast between Hermione, himself, and all of those he holds responsible for what happened to him last year. While I am sure that he will express his displeasure with me during that meeting, my greater fear is that your ‘secret identity’ will not be secret from our two soon-to-be Gryffindor Prefects for too much longer.”

Minerva nodded her head. “I’m actually surprised he hasn’t already realized that your very existence is an anomaly. However, I chalk it all up to the fact that your younger self is keeping him otherwise occupied, if Molly’s reports of their behavior are accurate.” She winked at Harmony as she continued. “Yes, sometimes a young woman’s very presence can be a welcome distraction to a young man in turmoil. Oh, I’m sorry, my dear. I’m being insensitive, aren’t I? Please forgive me, Harmony.”

Miss Puckle’s eyes had started to glisten with tears as she thought about just what Hermione was doing to “distract” Harry. But, at McGonagall’s apology, she shook her head and said, “No, Minerva, I’m just being unnecessarily jealous…of myself, mind you!” She continued to speak, but soon it was obvious to Albus and Minerva that Harmony was no longer talking to them as her memories, long stifled by personal choice, began to surface. “It’s just difficult to think about sometimes…to realize that if I had only been a little less shy during the original time loop, I could have experienced what she has with him now…I mean, who knew that Harry wouldn’t reject me if I asked? I guess I’m mostly upset with myself for not trying harder. At the time, I was confused…there were always Ron’s feelings to consider, and then Viktor Krum’s attentions distracted me for a while…but, through it all, there was Harry. From that first day on the train, I was drawn as if by a magnet to his compartment. I had, of course, read all about him and knew that we would be starting Hogwarts at the same time…but to see him, sitting there, looking so lost and confused…my heart went out to him right away. Of course, since I had my “bossy bookworm” self-image to maintain, I could not admit my feelings to myself then, or for some time after. That all changed, though, when a foolhardy young man jumped on the back of a fully grown mountain troll with no real plan except to try somehow to save my life…MY life…the life of someone who hadn’t been all that kind to him previously. I knew then, even before Ron remembered the levitation spell that Harry would be someone important to me from that moment on. Little could I imagine just how true that is…and how much that knowledge would cost me.”

“Do you regret it?” Albus asked, quietly.

The tears flowed freely down Harmony’s face as she answered with all the fervor she possessed, “Not for one minute, sir. And, no matter what happens to me, I promise I never will.”

As she said these words, a bright glow surrounded her, bathing Dumbledore’s office in a soft, warm light. Unobserved (except by two owls), this same phenomenon was repeated in two adjacent bedrooms at number 12, Grimmauld Place.

*****

On the very last day of the holidays Harry was sweeping up Hedwig’s owl droppings from the top of the wardrobe when Ron entered his bedroom carrying a couple of envelopes.

“Booklists have arrived,” he said, throwing one of the envelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair. “About time, I thought they’d forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this…”

Harry swept the last of the droppings into a rubbish bag and threw the bag over Ron’s head into the wastepaper basket in the corner, which swallowed it and belched loudly. He then opened his letter: It contained three pieces of parchment: the usual start of term reminder, the booklist, another letter…and something else that felt hard in the envelope. <Very wise decision, Headmaster…I was hoping you would see things my way this time. Better act surprised...hey, maybe I’ll let Ron find out first…> he thought as he nonchalantly put the letter down where Ron would most likely pick it up.

Ron, however, was busy reading the list. “The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard.

Crack.

Fred and George Apparated right beside Harry. He was so used to them doing this by now in the two timelines that he scarcely noticed.

“We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book,” said Fred conversationally.

“Because it means Dumbledore’s found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” said George.

“And about time too,” said Fred.

Harry, of course, was already quite aware of the identity of the new DADA professor, said nothing. Ever since his memories associated with that creature resurfaced, he had been planning what he would do to make sure this time around, things would be different. “What d’you mean?” he said, trying to sound like he knew nothing about this.

“Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back,” Fred told Harry, “and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year.”

“Not surprising, is it, when you look at what’s happened to the last four?” said George.

“One sacked for no reason, one eaten in the forest, one’s memory…and something else, removed…” all of the boys winced instinctively at the thought of exactly what had happened to Gilderoy, “…and one locked in a trunk for nine months,” said Harry, counting them off on his fingers. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

By now, Ron had noticed that Harry’s Hogwarts letter looked different than his. “What’s this, Harry? There’s something in there besides the booklist…it’s…”

“What’s up with you, Ron?” asked Fred.

In a voice that sounded slightly disappointed as he held up Harry’s letter, Ron said, “Looks like Harry’s made prefect.”

“Prefect?” Fred said. “Prefect?”

George leaped forward, seized the envelope in Ron’s other hand, and turned it upside down. Harry saw something scarlet and gold fall into George’s palm.

“That’s great, Harry!” George said with enthusiasm.

“We were sure you were a cert!” said Fred as he clapped Harry on the back.

“We knew Dumbledore was bound to pick you!” said George, as he grinned widely and handed the badge to Harry.

The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand. Harry had worked very hard to not let her know this secret in advance. He really enjoyed seeing the joy on her face after being surprised.

“Did you – did you get -?”

She spotted the badge in Harry’s hand and let out a shriek.

“I knew it!” she said excitedly, brandishing her letter. “Me too, Harry…me too!”

“Yes, I figured as much – in fact, I could have guaranteed it!” said Harry, smiling at her genuine happiness that he could both see and feel through the bond. As everyone congratulated him, he sensed that Ron was only participating half-heartedly. “What’s wrong, Ron?”

“Yeah, ickle Ronniekins! You’re not jealous, are you? Fred said. “Surely you didn’t think you would ever be a prefect!” He and George looked at their brother, and started to laugh. “That’s a good one…we’ve got to go tell Sirius about that. Ron…a prefect?” they continued to laugh as they left the room.

“Ron?” said Hermione, tentatively. “Is that true…what the twins said?”

“Honestly, Hermione, you must be barking mad to think I would want to be a prefect…” Harry noticed that his ears were turning bright red as he looked away from her. He shook Harry’s hand quickly and said, “Anyway, mate, congratulations…well done, and all that. Please excuse me, I’ve got to start packing for school.” as he dashed from the room.

Harry felt a slight twinge of guilt as he watched Ron leave. < Oh, no…I recognize that look of his – red ears and all. But, why would he be upset? Surely he wasn’t hoping he would be prefect all along? Well…I’ll talk to him about it later. Even better, I just thought of a few things I can do to cheer him up…I’ll have Hedwig run some errands for me in a bit.>

“HARRY!” said Hermione, as she gave him a big hug and a quick kiss now that they were alone. “Can you believe it? We’re both prefects! It will be so fun this year…the two of us, working together.” Then, she remembered something else. “And, with our…well, special connection, we’ll be able to keep in touch whenever we are patrolling the castle. That will give us quite an advantage, you know…”

“In what way, Hermione?” Harry said.

“Well…if we’re on patrol, and we come across a couple…well, inspecting a broom closet or something, we can…”

“…chase them out …and then, we can finish up their inspection…together!” Harry finished for her.

“Exactly my thought, Harry…which isn’t a surprise, now is it?!” she said, grinning cheekily at her boyfriend. “Oh, Harry, could I borrow Hedwig so I can tell Mum and Dad? They’ll be really pleased – I mean, prefect is something they can understand -”

“Sure, Hermione – I was just going to get her and send her on a few errands for me. She’ll be glad to drop your letter off while she’s out. However, I must warn you, Miss Granger. There’s a fee associated with the use of my owl,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“And, what, pray tell, would that fee be, Mr. Potter?” Hermione answered coyly.

“Well, I’m sure we can think of a reasonable payment…something along the lines of a follow up to your Romeo and Juliet lesson, maybe? I haven’t rehearsed that scene for quite some time now…and I’m sure I could use a little coaching.”

“Hmmm…well, I suppose I could pay that fee…as long as you guarantee results.”

“Oh, Hedwig’s never failed me yet,” he said proudly.

As she cast a locking spell on the door, Hermione answered in a sultry voice that sent chills down Harry’s spine. “I wasn’t talking about Hedwig…”

****

Soon thereafter, Harry and Hermione, looking quite flushed but very pleased with themselves over their successful “rehearsal”, went to their respective bedrooms to write individual notes for Hedwig to deliver. After they sent the owl off, they went down to the basement, where Mrs. Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which now read CONGRATULATIONS HARRY AND HERMIONE – NEW PREFECTS.

<That’s much better…and, I’ll make it up to Ron, I promise. I’m sure he’ll be quite pleased when he finds out what I’ve done...> Harry thought.

*****

As a result of the shock caused by seeing his parents in Moody’s photograph, not to mention him witnessing the various forms that Molly’s boggart had taken, Harry had a troubled night’s sleep. His parents wove in and out of his dreams, never speaking; Mrs. Weasley sobbed over Kreacher’s dead body while he and Hermione, wearing crowns, watched silently. For a moment, he started to dream about walking down a corridor ending in a locked door…until he remembered…and, without giving it another thought he blocked that memory from his mind. <Not this time, Tom…I’m on to you. You’re not going to trap me that way again!>

He awoke to find Ron in his room, already dressed, with a big smile on his face. “Look what I got, Harry!” he said, holding out a brand new Cleansweep Eleven. “Mum said it was delivered by messenger early this morning – the letter that came with it said something about me winning a random drawing. Funny, I don’t remember entering a drawing for a new broom…but it’s great, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, mate, it is…” Harry was pleased that his first present had worked out so well. <Those galleons were well spent, I’d say…just wait ‘til he gets to Hogwarts and finds out the rest of my surprise.>

“We’d better hurry up, Mum’s going ballistic, she says we’re going to miss the train. I just had to show you my surprise first, though.”

There was a lot of commotion in the house. From what he had heard as he dressed at top speed, Harry had gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs…

****

“See you!” Harry called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved beside him. The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shrank rapidly but a black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people were laughing to see it chasing the train, and then they turned the corner, and Sirius was gone.

“He shouldn’t have come with us,” said Hermione in a worried voice.

“Don’t worry, Hermione,” Harry said. “I’m sure Snuffles will be fine…<this time, anyway…> I’ll see to it, in fact.”

She looked at him as if she was going to say something, but Ron interrupted. “Oh, lighten up,” said Ron, “he hasn’t seen daylight for months, poor bloke.”

As Fred and George left to go look for Lee, Ron turned to his friends. “Shall we go and find a compartment, then?” he asked Harry and Hermione.”

They exchanged looks…and thoughts. <Uh, oh…how do we handle this?> Hermione asked.

<Don’t worry; I’ll take care of it. He’ll be quite distracted soon.> Harry responded silently. “Ron, Hermione and I have some business to attend to in the prefect carriage. Why don’t you go down and find the compartment Neville and Ginny are in…I have a feeling that there’s room in that one for all of us.”

“Neville…and Ginny…in the same compartment?” Ron laughed. “Now I know you must be crazy, Harry…that’ll never happen. Next thing I know, you’ll tell me that my loony neighbor, Luna Lovegood, will be in there with them!”

“You never know…stranger things have been known to happen, Ron. We’ll be along in about an hour.” Hermione again looked at Harry quizzically, but shook her head as if she thought better of what she was thinking and they walked together to the prefect meeting.

****

By the time Harry and Hermione returned to the compartment, the food trolley had already gone by. Ron, Ginny, and Neville had finished their Pumpkin Pasties and were busy swapping Chocolate Frog cards when they entered. After Harry and Hermione had told everyone who the new prefects were, Ron was upset to hear that Malfoy was a Slytherin prefect. “So, Harry…when are you going to go after Crabbe and Goyle? It shouldn’t take long to get them for something, you know.”

“Harry’s not going to abuse his position, Ron!” said Hermione sharply.

“Yeah, right, because Malfoy won’t abuse it at all,” said Ron sarcastically.

“So you want Harry to descend to his level?”

“No, I just want Harry to get Malfoy’s mates before he gets us.”

“For heaven’s sake, Ron -”

“I know, Harry…you could make Goyle do lines, it’ll kill him, he hates writing,” said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle’s low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair.” I…must…not…look…like…a…baboon’s… backside…”

Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing. She laughed so hard that her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs, and onto the floor.

“That was funny!”

*******

“Anything good in there?” asked Ron as Harry closed the copy of the Quibbler he had picked up from the floor where Luna had dropped it.

“Of course not,” said Hermione scathingly, before Harry could warn her through their bond not to say anything insulting. “The Quibbler’s rubbish, everyone knows that.”

“Excuse me,’ said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. “My father’s the editor.”

“I – oh,” said Hermione, looking embarrassed. “Well…it’s got some interesting…I mean, it’s quite…”

“I’ll have it back, thank you,” said Luna coldly, and leaning forward she snatched it out of Harry’s hands. Rifling through it to page fifty-seven, she turned it resolutely upside down again and disappeared behind it, just as the compartment door opened again.

Harry looked around; he had been expecting this incident to happen as before, but that did not make the sight of Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle any more enjoyable.

“What?” he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.

“Manners, Potter, or I’ll have to report you for behavior unbecoming a prefect,” drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father’s. “You see - while we BOTH have been made prefects, I unlike you, actually deserve the honor.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are still a git even if you are a prefect, so get out and leave us alone.”

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville laughed. Malfoy’s lip curled.

“Tell me, Ron, as a Weasley, how does it feel to be second-best to Potter here…again?” he asked.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Ginny sharply.

“I seem to have touched a nerve,” said Malfoy, smirking. “Well, just watch yourself, all of you…because I’ll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line.”

“Get OUT!” said Hermione and Harry together as they stood up.

Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment door behind them and turned to look at Harry, who knew at once that she, like him, had registered what Malfoy had said. Of course, this time, Harry knew exactly why this statement was significant, but he was glad that Hermione had noticed on her own once again and had been just as unnerved by it as before.

“Chuck us another Frog,” said Ron, who had clearly noticed nothing. <Same old Ron…> Harry thought with a sigh. <Some things never change…>

Before too long, it was time for Harry and Hermione to change. They both pinned their prefect badges carefully to their chest, and Harry could swear he saw Ron looking at the badge wistfully.

*****

“Who’s that?” Hermione said sharply, pointing toward the middle of the staff table.

Harry, who remembered all too well who Hermione was pointing out, tried hard to control the anger that once again had surged in his chest. He looked at the creature… wearing a pink cardigan just as he remembered, still looking just like a toad sitting on a lily pad, waiting for a wayward fly. “It’s that Umbridge woman!” he said through clenched teeth.

“Who?” said Hermione.

“She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!”

“Nice cardigan,” said Ron, smirking.

“She works for Fudge?” Hermione repeated, frowning. “What on earth’s she doing here, then?”

“She’s here to make my life miserable… again.” Harry mumbled to himself. Once again, Hermione looked up at him sharply…and then, her eyes grew wide as she considered a very crazy explanation for what she had been noticing recently.

“Oh, look…there’s Miss Puckle.” Ron said, grinning goofily as the Assistant Professor of Charms made her way to the staff table. “Blimey, mate, as I’ve said before, she’s still quite the looker, eh?” But then, she looks much better in that picture that Colin took last year, don’t you think, Harry?” he said as he elbowed Harry in the ribs. “Harry? Harry? What’s wrong with you, Potter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Harry, however, had not seen a ghost…but as Ron mentioned the photograph of a topless, sunbathing Harmony taken from the back, Harry remembered a distinguishing scar…one that perfectly matched in shape and location another scar he had seen as Hermione’s top floated loose when he rescued her during the second task….and his eyes also grew wide as he considered a very crazy explanation…but one that also seemed to fit the facts. <It can’t be…but that would mean that they are …Yes, of course, I remember now, Miss Puckle wasn’t a teacher at Hogwarts in the other timeline…and that scar…well, I guess I’ve got another thing to discuss during our meeting after dinner…>

******

As Madam Pomfrey entered the headmaster’s office and took her seat between Professor McGonagall and Harmony, Harry nodded at the school nurse and stood up. Before he could start the speech he had worked on for some time, he felt strength, support, and love flow through his soul-bond. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and began. “Now that you are all here, Headmaster, with your permission, let’s get started. First, let’s dispense with the pleasantries. I, for one, am not happy to be here, and I trust that none of you are either. I assume that all of you except Hermione are aware of what I am about to discuss. In way of explanation to her, then, recent events have resulted in Hermione removing a memory block that was placed there by Bellatrix Lestrange in another reality. As a result, I find that I have detailed memories of another version of my experiences here at Hogwarts. In that reality, I was originally sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, and I had a number of different experiences in that time.”

He looked at Miss Puckle as he said this, while Hermione’s expression changed from one of shock to understanding as she considered Harry’s revelation. She said quietly, “Well, that would explain what’s been happening with you recently, wouldn’t it?”

Harry continued. “I have more to say about those different experiences later. Right now, I am interested in one thing – to try to understand just why the four of you think it was necessary and acceptable to violate the minds of four students in such a manner as you did this past year. While you are all at fault in this matter, I feel that the actions of two of you deserve special notice – and possibly worse, once all the facts are in. First, Headmaster Dumbledore, you are entrusted with the health and well-being, both physical and mental, of all of the students at Hogwarts, are you not?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter, I am.” Albus answered seriously in the same formal tone that Harry had adopted.

“Then, how could you justify taking away the one thing that I could have used most last year – my memories of my relationship with Hermione? I needed her support…it would have given me hope.”

Before Albus could respond, Harry continued, “And, Madam Pomfrey, how could you agree to this misuse of your healer’s skills? I understand that even Muggle ‘healers’ have a code of ethics that they follow known as Hippocratic Oath. The author of that oath is also rumored to have written another famous phrase – ‘First, do no harm.’ I would say to you that by your actions, you have done harm to not just Hermione and me, but also to Ron and Ginny, simply because we had told them about our feelings for each other that very day.”

Poppy, who was looking quite chastened, was about ready to respond when Albus interrupted. “Harry, if you will permit me, I would prefer to answer for both of us, since it was at my request that Madam Pomfrey acted the way she did. Would this be acceptable to you, and will you promise to listen to what I have to say before you pass judgment?” Harry nodded. “Simply put, Harry, as I’ve told you before, we acted the way we did because we were quite convinced that to do otherwise would have resulted in many deaths, including most likely yours, Hermione’s, and the Weasleys.”

“How do you know this, Professor? Excuse me for doubting, but my memories of certain events that happen near the end of this year are quite clear, and I assure you I will not let you withhold information from me any more. I remember first-hand the pain, death, and suffering that this will cause.”

As he said this, Hermione noticed that Harmony, who had been trying to remain inconspicuous, was nodding her head sadly, eyes shining with tears. But, before she could think about that, Albus continued to speak in his defense.

“Yes, Harry; I understand why you feel this way. You’re not the only one in possession of this knowledge, you know. I have my sources, too.”

Harry once again glanced at Miss Puckle and sighed. “Actually, sir, I was going to bring that up later, but I realize that now is as good a time as any. I just figured out your little secret for myself not that long ago.” With all eyes focused on him, he stood up and walked over to where Harmony was seated. He held out his hand, inviting her to stand. When she did, he took both of her hands in his and said with tears starting to form in his eyes as he realized the depth of her sacrifice, “You’re Dumbledore’s source, aren’t you? You came back for me, didn’t you, Miss Puckle… or should I say, Hermione?” And, much to everyone’s surprise, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her full on the lips, eliciting a gasp from the youngest female in the office.

Harmony resisted at first, but it didn’t take long for her long-suppressed feelings to take over, and she was returning his kisses with equal fervor as she began to apologize. “Oh, Harry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you…but I knew that ….you would figure it out eventually.” Soon, the reunited couple noticed the shocked silence that filled the room, not to mention the anger and hurt on the face of the younger Hermione. Tears were starting to run down the young girl’s cheeks as she looked first at Harry, then at Harmony. “I thought….after all we’ve been through, that you loved ME, Harry! And why are you calling her by my name? How dare you!” she said with a barely stifled sob. Then, to Miss Puckle, she said, scathingly, “I KNEW you wanted him for yourself all along…but I hoped that you didn’t…then you made me make a fool of myself!” Then, the feelings of betrayal overwhelmed her and she tried to run from the room, crying and covering her eyes with her hands. As she got to the door, she found it had been locked magically. She started pounding on it with both fists. “LET ME OUT! I HATE ALL OF YOU! LET ME OUT OF HERE THIS INSTANT!”

Harmony moved toward the door in an attempt to stop her, but Harry looked intently at her and thought <No, my love…why don’t we just show her? First, release your appearance charms… Good!…and then turn around for a second. You know why, of course. And, it helps that you’ve got a loose top on…this shouldn’t take too long.>. Then, he focused his thoughts on the girl at the door. <’Mione, please calm down…if you just look over here, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.>

Still trying to beat the door down with her arms, she screamed loudly in response. “DON’T YOU EVER REFER TO ME BY THAT NAME AGAIN…AND NEVER USE THE MIND-LINK EITHER. I DON’T WANT TO HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU, HARRY JAMES POTTER! NOW OPEN THIS DOOR!”

Calmly, he responded once again to her mind. < Please trust me, Hermione…I do love you too…I have for years now – more years than even I knew until you removed my memory block. If you’ll just turn around you’ll understand what I mean.>

And then Hermione was surprised to hear another familiar, yet hated, voice enter her head. <Harry’s right, you know. He has no choice but to love you as much as he loves me. Please, Hermione, turn around and look.>

With tears of anger still in her eyes, she turned slowly to face the two people she now thought of as her newest enemies. The first thing that Hermione noticed was that Harmony was facing the wall with her top pulled up, exposing a fair amount of skin on her lower back. Before Hermione could turn away in embarrassment, she saw…a distinctive, yet familiar scar…in exactly the same place as the one she had since she was a young girl. Before she could react, Harmony had turned to face her. For a brief moment, Hermione thought she was looking at her mother as she appeared in her parent’s engagement picture, but she knew that wasn’t possible. She rubbed her eyes and looked closer at the brown-haired, brown-eyed woman who stood next to her former boyfriend…and then, she said slowly, “Where did you get that…scar…on your back? And why do you look so …familiar? Who are you?”

Harry cautiously reached for both of their hands, joined them together in a handshake and said, “Hermione Granger, I would like to introduce you to…Hermione Granger. Wow…this is going to be confusing, isn’t it?” he said to the headmaster. “What are we going to do with double Hermione Grangers, sir? Or, should I say Hermione squared?”

(A/N…Okay, about this chapter. I actually toyed with the idea of having Hermione be able to see the thestrals because of her link to Harry’s mind, but I thought that scene would drag things out too long. Also, one of my betas couldn’t remember how Hermione/Harmony got the scar in the first place – it’s all included in Chapter 35.

Before you complain that it was inappropriate for Harry to be kissing “Harmony”, remember they are both actually in their early 20’s by this time.

Finally, the “First, do no harm” quote…many do think that it is part of the Hippocratic oath. For the whole story, please see http://www.geocities.com/everwild7/noharm.html - Now, the bigger question is, “Why would Harry know this?” And, the answer is, Hermione’s been after him for TWO timelines spanning around 9 years, surely some of Hermione’s research skills have rubbed off on him by this time. )

Chapter 42 – Dolores Decloaked

(A/N –As you can see from the chapter title, there will be the beginnings of Harry’s interaction with Umbridge, covering the events of Chapter 12 in OotP. But first, I suppose I’d better finish up the scene in Dumbledore’s office.)

Anyone watching Hermione’s facial expressions for the last few moments would have been amazed at how many feelings she could go through so rapidly. First, there was anger mixed with betrayal; followed in succession by confusion at what she was seeing, but couldn’t accept for a moment, revulsion and hate when he grabbed her hand and insisted she shake hands with her hated enemy, surprise at Harry’s unbelievable revelation of that person’s true identity…and finally…as her logical mind processed all of the facts…the dawn of recognition, and the beginnings of acceptance.

“Hermione,” Miss Puckle said quietly, “please tell me what you’re thinking. I, more than anyone in this room, understand that you’re having trouble with what you’ve just seen and heard.”

Harry added slowly. “Hermione, I apologize for not handling that…erm…reunion scene any more tactfully… and I know you’ve got good reason to be upset at seeing me…well…kissing Harmony in front of you. In my defense, weak as it is, I had hoped to be able to reveal Miss Puckle’s identity in a different manner. Events moved pretty quickly there, though, and I lost my head in the moment.”

Hermione, who had quickly released Harmony’s hand, was now looking at the two of them. Her expression was now unreadable. “Harry…after what I’ve seen you do in front of me, followed by probably the wildest story I’ve ever heard, I should just hex you both where you stand and never speak to you again. But, for some unfathomable reason…I believe you – both of you. I don’t know why… maybe it’s all that time we’ve spent in each other’s head recently…I CAN’T understand how you could be telling me the truth, but I will give you 10 minutes to make your case. If you haven’t convinced me by then, I guarantee I WILL never speak to either of you again, even if I have to leave Hogwarts to make sure that happens. You have ten minutes, starting now…Proceed.”

Albus, who, along with Minerva and Poppy had been silent witnesses to these last few amazing minutes, immediately spoke up. “Hermione, may I speak? I may be able to overcome your resistance to these new, hard to comprehend facts in a much shorter time, with your permission, that is.”

“Certainly, sir. In fact, this might be preferable – Now that I think about it, I’m still not sure I WANT to listen to either of those two for ten minutes under the circumstances,” she said tightly as her valiant attempt at emotional control started to fail.

Dumbledore walked quickly over to a cabinet in his office and withdrew his Pensieve. Placing it on the desk in front of Hermione, he said “I assume you know what this is?” At her nod, he said “Good… then I won’t have to waste time explaining its operation. I have here the combined memories of my experiences over these past years with the person you have known until recently as Harmony June Puckle, along with her specific memories of how she came to be here. I hope that this will validate their ‘wild story’ very quickly. If you want to see for yourself, just place the tip of your wand in the silvery material, and concentrate on what you want to see.”

Hermione didn’t hesitate as she complied with his instructions. Immediately, Harmony’s figure rose from the bowl and started to speak, first describing her trip through time when she first met Dumbledore at the Leaky Cauldron, followed by her detailed memories of the earlier timeline she had related during the interrogation at the beginning of the previous year. Before long, both Harry and Hermione were listening with rapt attention as they heard all the details for the first time. Ten minutes stretched into twenty, and then an hour, as they also reviewed the headmaster’s memories of his first meeting with Harmony in a room at the Leaky Cauldron, and his assertion that the letter she had used to validate her story was written by his own hand in a different reality.

Eventually Hermione waved her wand, dispersing the memories back into the silver liquid. “That was…quite enlightening…and nearly convincing. I do have a few questions, Miss Puckle, just for my own reassurance.”

She proceeded to grill Harmony on a number of obscure facts about her pre-Hogwarts life, secrets she had never told anyone, (exchanged in whispers between the two, of course) teachers she had in Muggle school, her favorite movies, and other personal bits of trivia, each of which Harmony answered correctly.

“One last thing, though…if you don’t mind a little experiment, Headmaster?” He nodded quickly, eyes twinkling, as he understood what she was about to try. “Harmony, draw your wand, please…I formally challenge you to a duel.” Harmony gasped, but then nodded grimly. Harry looked as if he was going to say something, but then; he too recognized what she was up to. “Priori Incantatem – the brother…or is that sister –wand effect! And, realizing what was about to happen, he ducked behind the desk for protection. Poppy, Minerva, and Albus, his mustache quivering in delight, all remained seated. “Very good, Miss Granger…10 points to Gryffindor!”

Hermione, summoning all the magical energy she could, took careful aim at her assistant professor and said, “Three…two…one…“Petrificus Totalus!”, while Harmony countered immediately with a “Protego!” Two flashes of energy left their respective wands…and a golden thread joined them briefly before the spells dissipated completely.

“Hmmm…well, that was different.” Harry said as he peeked over the edge of the desk and then stood up. “When I crossed wands with Tom Riddle in the graveyard, we had a much more impressive light show.”

Albus smiled. “That was a slightly different situation, Harry. In this case, since the dragon heartstring cores in this case were not only from the same dragon, but actually the same exact core, they cannot be used against each other in anger as you have just seen. The magical energies here cancel each other out, as I’m sure our younger Miss Granger guessed would happen when she thought of that specific test. Well, then, are you convinced?”

Slowly, a warm smile spread across Hermione’s face as she looked at Miss Puckle for a moment, and then dropped her wand and embraced her in a welcoming hug as she said, “Yes, Professor Dumbledore…looking back on all that has happened since I met Harmony, I guess in the back of my mind I always knew there was something different about her…I always felt a connection to her from when we first met, and now, I know why.”

Then, she looked over at Harry, standing next to her awkwardly. “Oh, come here, Harry…I’m still not sure what this means to the two…erm… three of us…but I’m sure we’ll be able to figure it out – together.” And the two Hermione's reached out as one to include him in their circle.

After a pleasant interlude where Harry’s mind was fully engaged in VERY happy thoughts, eventually he was able to focus on a nagging concern. He turned to Albus with his question. “Erm…sir…I was wondering…just how DO we figure this out? I mean…what’s going to happen? As much as I enjoy the thought of two beautiful girlfriends giving me all this attention,” he said winking at both of them, and receiving two glares in return, “I just don’t think that would be appropriate. Can anyone explain how this is going to work out?”

Harmony grinned, and turned to Madam Pomfrey. “How about it, Poppy – you explained it quite well to me last year, do you care to give it another go?”

“Certainly, my dear!” the healer replied happily. “First, a bit of background on the nature of time. Time can be considered to be like a…”

*******

“Are you sure about that, Poppy?” Harry said, scratching his head after Pomfrey finished her explanation. “I’d ask you to run that by me one more time, but I doubt that it would do much good.”

Hermione (the younger one), however, had a very studious expression on her face as she considered what she had just heard and seen during Poppy’s presentation. “Yes…that WOULD seem to solve our little problem, now wouldn’t it? But, since we obviously can’t do anything about it now, nor would we want to, really, I suppose we’ll just have to keep on the way we are going…well, actually, not QUITE the way things were going.”

“What do you mean, Hermione?” Minerva looked puzzled

“Well, I for one am not sure I want to have to witness Harry and Harmony doing any more displays of affection like I had to endure earlier, even knowing what I do now. And, knowing her as well as I probably should, I’m sure Harmony agrees. In fact, now that I think about it, I am amazed she hasn’t slapped me when I’ve told her about what Harry and I have been doing together, telling me that Harry’s HER bond-mate. It’s what I would have wanted to do if I were in her position. It must not have been at all pleasant for you to have to watch us come together in such a manner, especially since you were the one encouraging it.”

Harmony looked a bit guilty as she said, “To tell you the truth, Hermione, that very thought HAS crossed my mind. It has been very painful to watch sometimes, even after Poppy explained to me how things should work out for us all. As much as I want to believe her explanation, I am still facing the realities of this time loop. Did you realize, Harry,” she mused, “when you kissed me earlier tonight, that was actually the first time I have ever been kissed like that…by anyone? Here I am, a young woman in her chronological early 20’s, and I had never been kissed romantically, while my ‘younger self’ has been kissed by and kissed you…well, I assume a significant number of times,” (Harry and Hermione looked slightly embarrassed as she said this) “…and there have been times when I have just wanted to do exactly as Hermione said – to both of you. No, I don’t know that I want to have to endure knowing about that any more this year.”

As he listened, Harry started to realize what this conversation was probably going to mean to him personally. “Does this mean we can’t snog any more?” he asked plaintively.

Both of the Grangers looked at him with a combination of amusement and sadness. Finally Harmony spoke. “No, I don’t expect that of you, especially considering all the effort I’ve put into GETTING you two together! You need each other, this year especially. But, Hermione, please, no more descriptions of how it feels to kiss him…to have his arms around you…that was the hardest for me to bear. In fact, it is probably best if you don’t tell me about your dates any more…and, please try to keep your relationship as quiet as possible – for all of our sakes. And Harry, of course it would be totally inappropriate for you to treat me as anything other than your Assistant Charms Professor as you have always done. After I restore my appearance charms before I leave here tonight, you must maintain the proper student-teacher relationship with me and continue to refer to me as Miss Puckle in public and as Harmony only on those rare occasions when the three of us are with each other. Since I know that this adventure will be coming to an end soon, I will steel myself for one more school year of being without you, my only love.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed automatically when she heard this last, but she quickly berated herself in her mind. <Now, Hermione…there is no point in being jealous, now is there…but it will take some getting used to, to hear another woman say that about Harry…even though I know it is true.> To Harmony, she said, as pleasantly as she could. “Okay, Harmony…we’ll promise to keep our relationship discreet…and I won’t share the details with you any more. Is that acceptable to you, Harry?”

“Yes, of course. Besides, if all the guys at Hogwarts knew I was snogging the TWO prettiest witches at the school, I’d never hear the end of it!” Immediately, two magically-produced down pillows flew directly towards his head. He drew his wand and, without thinking, said “Reducto!” as he ducked. This, he realized later, was not the best spell to use in that situation. Minerva and Poppy, now covered in plumage, were not amused. Albus, however, was smiling broadly as, with a flick of his wand, cleaned up all the feathers. “Enough of that for now, Harry,” he said mildly. “We have a few more items of business to take care of tonight. Since the revelation of Miss Puckle’s identity, you have been distracted from the original purpose of this meeting. Would you like to continue with your previous discussion?”

With all the excitement that had just occurred, Harry found that he was no longer as angry at Albus and Poppy about what happened the previous year, but he felt he had to say one last thing. “Headmaster, Madame Pomfrey, I suppose that this is the time when I’m supposed to tell you that ‘All is forgiven’...well, all I can say to that is ‘Bollocks!” I am still quite brassed off at all of the adults in this room, come to think of it; yes, even you, Harmony. Since I have full memory of this year’s events from the last time I lived through them, I know now that much of the suffering that happened then was caused by others ‘doing what they thought was best’ for me – trying to protect me by interfering in my life. I give you all a warning – do not try anything like that ever again. Remember, chronologically I am a twenty-year old, and Hermione, because of her time-turner adventures, is over eighteen, if I remember Pomfrey’s diagnosis last year. We are no longer children, and we will not tolerate being treated as such any more. Do I make myself clear?”

Poppy and Minerva nodded, but Albus said, sadly, “Yes, Harry, you make yourself very clear. I would like to give you a warning in exchange – no, not a threat against you of course, but a true warning – that you work with Harmony and between the two of you, try to stick to the existing timeline as much as possible. You may find that attempting to change events too drastically will not necessarily result in the outcomes you desire – as Tom Riddle himself is finding out. Now, if you are finished, Harry, I have one more concern about this year. You are familiar, of course, with our new DADA professor?”

In response, Harry’s eyes narrowed fiercely and he nodded slightly. “Yes, I am.”

“From what Harmony has shown me in her memories of this year, you and Dolores had your…differences last time, am I right?”

“That’s putting it mildly, sir…”

Albus looked at him gravely. “Yes, I have felt anger rise from you each time you have heard her name or seen her… as is happening this very moment. I do not know the details of what she did to you previously – I chose not to delve into Hermione’s memories of those events. But, I can assure you that she is here without my approval. The only reason she IS here at all is because she is well-connected in certain circles in the Ministry - circles that are most likely quite sympathetic to Tom’s pureblood beliefs, I am certain. Harry, I feel it would not be wise to draw undue attention to yourself where she is concerned. I am certain that she has ulterior motives in being here at Hogwarts, and we must be careful not to make her suspect we know about her. The time is not yet right to uncloak her, so I must ask you, Harry, to not go seeking after revenge against her in this time-loop.”

“But sir,” Harmony said quickly. “I remember the events of that time too…and Harry was never the instigator when it came to Dolores Umbridge. She was always the one to attack, denigrate, punish, oh, let’s face it, to abuse him. He never, so far as I knew, did anything to her in retaliation, no matter how much he may have wanted to. I was the one who acted against her, and then it was to keep her from using a Cruciatus Curse on him to get him to talk.”

At this startling news Hermione, Minerva and Poppy all gasped, finding it hard to believe that ANY teacher would consider using an Unforgivable Curse on a student. Albus spoke again. “Be that as it may, Harmony, I still do not think it wise…”

Harry interrupted. “Enough talk, sir. You want me to agree to do nothing against her? I will make that promise – as long as she gives me no reason to. In other words, sir, I’ll behave only as long as she does. I promise nothing else – if she moves against Hermione, Ron, or me, I will respond accordingly.

“Fair enough, Harry. As subtly as possible, I will do my best to warn her to be on her best behavior around you this year. For her sake, I hope she has the foresight to do so. And, of course, you have the right to defend yourself and your friends, if it comes to that. But now, the hour is late, and we all have our various classes and duties to attend to in the morning. Until tomorrow, then.”

*****

After a relatively uneventful first day of classes (that is, except for the large amount of O.W.L. preparatory homework that they had been assigned), it was time for Harry to see if Dumbledore’s subtle warning had gotten through to her.

When he, Ron, and Hermione entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher’s desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Through her link to Harry, Hermione very clearly saw the image of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad, and was barely able to stifle a giggle as they found their seats.

“Well, good afternoon!” she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled “Good afternoon,” in reply.

“Tut, tut,” said Professor Umbridge. “That won’t do, now will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

Everyone but Harry repeated automatically, “Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.”

Dolores, who had been looking directly at Harry, said with a sickly sweet tone to her voice, “Well, apparently there is one student here who cannot follow instructions. Mr. Potter, I assume you heard my request?”

As Hermione gripped his arm in warning, Harry looked at Umbridge and said, “Yes, I did.”

“Yes I did, what?”

“I don’t know, what did you do?” Harry said with a straight face.

As Ron chuckled, Hermione said frantically, “HARRY…Please…you promised the Headmaster you would behave.”

Dolores turned her attention to Hermione. “Miss…Granger, is it? Yes, I’ve heard about you, of course…your reputation as a top Muggle-born student is well-known in the Ministry. And you, the redhead- you must be Arthur’s boy, correct, Mr. Weasley?” All three of you had better keep on your best behavior, or I will be seeing you in my office for the appropriate…punishments. I will not be threatened by anyone, even if they have the headmaster convinced of their importance. Her grin got even wider as she said this, which caused Harry’s anger to swell again as he remembered just exactly what punishments she was referring to. But, with Hermione’s calm voice in his head saying <Ignore her, Harry…it’s not worth it. Just let her go…she hasn’t done anything serious yet…please, do it for me…> Harry relaxed slightly, and said clearly, Yes, I did hear you earlier, Professor Umbridge. I apologize for not responding appropriately. Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge”.

“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge sweetly, “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.”

*****

Several silent minutes passed. Next to Harry, Ron was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Harry looked right and received a surprise to shake him out of his torpor. Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.

<Remember ‘Mione - I know what you intend to do…and you were telling me to behave MYSELF?>

<Oh, hush, Harry…I only want everyone in class to understand what is happening in this class. Hopefully the wiser ones of our classmates will understand the problem. I have a feeling you’re going to need more people on your side this year, and you won’t get effective help if no one has the proper training in DADA. I swear, she’s worse than Gilderoy if she thinks this twaddle is of any use. It would help if you stayed out of it this time, though. We surely wouldn’t want to draw too much attention to you!> she thought with a big grin on her face. <Besides, I’m perfectly capable of exposing her true colors to the class by myself. Watch, you’ll see…trust me, Harry.>

<Always, my love! Besides, as I said, I already know what’s going to happen here…I’m just going to sit back and enjoy the show this time. Okay, I’ll try to be on my best behaviour – for once!>

When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

“Not about the chapter, no,” said Hermione.

“Well, we’re reading just now,” said Professor Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. “If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I’ve got a query about your course aims,” said Hermione.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

“Well, Miss Granger… I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully,” said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

“Well, I don’t,” said Hermione bluntly. “There’s nothing written up there about using defensive spells…

******

“What on earth are you shouting about, Potter?” Minerva snapped, as Peeves cackled gleefully and zoomed out of sight. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“I’ve been sent to see you,” said Harry stiffly.

“Sent? What do you mean, sent?”

He held out the note from Professor Umbridge. Professor McGonagall took it from him, frowning, slit it open with a tap of her wand, stretched it out, and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from side to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower.

“Come in here, Potter.”

He followed her inside her study. The door closed automatically behind him.

“Well?” said Professor McGonagall, frustration evident in her manner. “Honestly, Harry, after all the warnings you got from the headmaster, and knowing all that is at stake, you still couldn’t control yourself.”

“Yes, Professor. As I said yesterday, I will not tolerate her impugning my character OR threatening my friends. And besides, you know that Hermione and I are right in what we are trying to do. Her teaching this year will be less than useless, because it will give some of our fellow students the mistaken notion that studying defensive spells out of a book will somehow teach them to you, and that misunderstanding may be fatal. I, for one, will not stand by this time and let that happen.”

“Have a biscuit, Potter.”

*****

“Have we reached an understanding, then, Harry? I still think it is best that you follow Hermione’s advice and keep your head down and your temper under control.”

She stood up and, for a second, a smile crossed her face as he stood, too.

“Here…take a biscuit to Hermione, too. For that skillful performance in the DADA class, I dare say she deserves a treat, too. No, not THAT kind of treat!” she said as she noticed Harry’s blushing expression. “Mr. Potter…need I remind you that as prefects, you both are held to a higher standard when it comes to public displays of affection? You can possibly even lose your badge if you’re caught, you know.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Professor. Hermione and I have already discussed that very subject. She’s come up with a solution to that problem already.”

Professor McGonagall eyed him for a moment and her eyes grew wide as she considered what these solutions may include. Then, she sniffed, walked around her desk, and held open the door for him.

“Well, I’m glad you listen to Hermione at any rate,” she said with a grin, pointing him out of her office. “However, I’m sure it would be best if I knew nothing about her ‘solution’.”

(A/N – By the way, if you are interested, here’s the link to my daughter’s first Portkey story -Soul Schism .)

Chapter 43 – Dolores Defanged

(A/N – First, I want to thank all of you who read my daughter Renaiya880727 ‘s stories. she’s a good writer, isn’t she? By the way, if you are confused by which “Hermione” I am referring to from now on in the story, whenever I use the name Harmony it will be referring to the older version/assistant professor, and Hermione will refer to the younger version/Hogwarts student. Hope that’s clear enough!

In case you are wondering, I did have to re-order some paragraphs in the first section to make things a bit clearer when I reposted this chapter.

Also, after reading about the controversy on FF.Net where they appear to be kicking off any story that has the slightest appearance of a copyright violation, I suppose I should re-iterate my disclaimer.

Disclaimer: If I was JKR and these characters were mine, do you really think I’d be worried about my mortgage payment being due? Just this slightly AU plot is “mine…all mine!” All excerpts from JKR’s Harry Potter book series in any chapter in this story are from the US Scholastic Editions, and any ideas that I can attribute to others in the greater Harry Potter community will be appropriately referenced. So, to you lawyers out there –please don’t sue me! I guarantee I am not making any money off of this story, and I don’t have any assets to pay a settlement, besides! )

Anyone observing Harry as he sat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table during dinner that evening would have assumed he was deep in thought, possibly about schoolwork, but more likely thinking about tactics for the upcoming Quidditch season. Actually, Harry was conversing through the bond with Harmony as she sat at the staff table. Through some rapid experimentation over the past day, the three of them had discovered that they could either communicate with each other as a group or individually, based on who they focused their thoughts on as they linked.

Since Harry felt it was best for Hermione to remain ignorant of some of the specific events that had happened to her and others originally, he wanted to keep this conversation with Harmony private to avoid confusion on her part and to eliminate the need for endless explanations. Hermione didn’t necessarily enjoy being left out of their conversations, but she understood why and accepted it as gracefully as she could. Already at Hermione’s request, Harry had agreed to share his memories of what Dolores Umbridge had done to him originally, so her concerns over ‘equal time’ were mollified as she watched the abuse he had undergone at the hands of the “High Inquisitor.” However, now he needed to discuss some personal things with Harmony.

<This time, Harmony, I promise things will be different! Even now, as I look back on my memories of my first time through this year, I cannot believe how rude…how ANGRY I was at everything and everyone, especially you. But, you still stuck with me through all of that…in fact, you were more loyal to me than anyone else, including Ron…Why?>

Anyone observing Harmony at that moment would have seen a small shake of her head while a hint of moisture collected in the corner of her eyes as she responded, slightly exasperated. <Honestly, Harry, do I HAVE to spell it out for you? Why do you think I was so excited to see you at Grimmauld Place that I nearly suffocated you in a hug until Ron reminded me you needed to breathe…why do you think I came up with the idea of gathering students together to have you teach us DADA…why do you think I kept Dolores from attacking you in her office? Why do you think I put up with ANGRY Harry, MOODY Harry…RUDE Harry, that whole year?> And then he heard her quiet voice in his head say something that pierced him to his very soul; <Why do you think I came back for you, Harry?>

Hermione noticed Harry’s expression as he thought about what Harmony was saying to him. “What is it, Harry?” she whispered, “Is something wrong? Or, are you two chatting again?”

“Mmmhmm”, he mumbled through a mouthful of pumpkin pie as he looked away quickly so she wouldn’t notice the glistening in HIS eyes. To Harmony, he responded gently, <You came back for me for the same reason I would have come back for you if the situation had been reversed.>

<Good answer, Harry…I’m glad we understand each other. And, I’m very glad that you’re not going to be spending this year biting either my or Hermione’s head off when you think we’re not supporting you enough! Honestly, Harry, didn’t you know by this time that I was never going to abandon you? Hadn’t I shown you time and time again where my heart lay? I just wish I would have been brave enough to do…what Hermione did this time…with you.>

Harry’s right hand instinctively found Hermione’s left hand and held it (beneath the table to avoid notice from curious eyes) as he looked toward Harmony. <But remember, Harmony – this is mostly your doing! I doubt Hermione and I would even be at the same table tonight if it hadn’t been for you, much less sitting next to each other. Besides…you remember the lecture we just had…we need to be patient and trust that Poppy and Minerva know what they are talking about. I’ve given up trying to make sense of it all, but I’m just going to hope that they are right.>

Harry could hear Harmony’s sigh in his mind. <That’s what I’ve been living on for years now…hope. Oh, look at the time…don’t you two prefects have some duties to attend to in the common room? Remember?>. And then she projected a memory of two tricksters doing some unauthorized product testing with some first-years.

Harry smiled and addressed Hermione and Ron. “I don’t know about you, but after that wonderful dessert I’m ready to go back to the common room. A prefect’s work is never done, you know. Let’s get out of here.”

As the trio got up from the table, Harry continued to ignore the whispered comments coming from around him, even though he could tell that they were bothering Hermione. Ron, of course, paid no attention. <Don’t worry, my love, it’s the same as before…not very many of this lot believe my story. Well, this time I’m not going to let it bother me – I’ve got all the support I need right here….with you by my side. I promise I’ll never doubt you again.>

<Again? What are you talking about, Harry?> Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she understood. <Oh…you mean ‘last time’, don’t you? What happened between us last time? Were things different then?>

<Trust me, ‘Mione…you really don’t want to know. Let’s just say I wasn’t the nicest bloke to be around and leave it at that. If you’re still curious, ask Harmony about it…I’m sure she’ll fill you in on the details.>

Rain pounded on the windowpanes as they strode along the empty corridors back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry felt as though his first day had lasted a week because of all the revelations and stress he had experienced, not to mention the mountain of O.W.L. related homework he had to face before bed. As he thought about homework, though, a big smile came across his face. <Hey, wait a minute…I’ve already done all this stuff…all I have to do is remember what I wrote last time!> He glanced out of a rain-washed window at the dark grounds as they turned into the Fat Lady’s corridor. There was still no light in Hagrid’s cabin. <Oh, that’s right – I’d better tell Dumbledore what I know about Hagrid’s mission….maybe I can warn him in time to make a few changes there, too!>

“Mimbulus mimbletonia,” said Hermione, before the Fat Lady could ask. The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind and the three of them scrambled back through it.

****

”So, what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?” Ron said as he looked up expectantly at Hermione.

But Hermione was not listening; she was squinting over into the far corner of the room, where Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were now sitting at the center of a knot of innocent-looking first years, all of whom were chewing something that seemed to have come out of a large paper bag that Fred was holding.

“No, I’m sorry, they’ve gone too far,” she said, standing up and looking positively furious. “Come on, Harry.”

Harry smiled and stood up as he thought to Hermione, <Oh, yeah, that’s right…Harmony reminded me about having to do our ‘prefect duties’ tonight…that’s why I suggested we leave when I did. Don’t worry, ‘Mione, those sweets aren’t dangerous, really…I’m quite familiar with their effects from last time. They became quite popular later this year as a way for students to get out of Umbridge’s class. But, I suppose you’re right – we should be seen ‘doing our job’, shouldn’t we?>

Before Hermione took one more step towards the twins, she grabbed Harry by the arm and thought in response <What was that, Harry?>

<What, didn’t you understand me? I said we should be seen doing our job.>

<No, before that…something about ‘getting out of Umbridge’s class…’ right?>

<Yeah, I suppose so…what’s up?>

<Hmmm…I just had an idea…maybe Fred and George may be willing to help out with a few things this year…>

As the first years slumped unconscious in their seats, Hermione marched directly over to where Fred and George now stood with clipboards, closely observing the test subjects. “Fred, George…we need to talk for a moment,” she said happily to them as they looked up in surprise.

“What are you on about, Hermione?” Fred said defensively.

“Didn’t I tell you this morning you can’t test your rubbish on students?” she said, winking quickly so only Harry could see.

“You’re not going to act all ‘prefect-like’ and threaten to turn us in to Mum or something, are you?” George said warily as he administered the antidote to the first years in the form of a purple sweet inserted into their open mouths.

“Oh, of course not…I would, however, like to propose a ‘different’ test subject that may be more of a challenge…and more fun if you are successful,” she said with a smile as she drew the twins into a private huddle.

After a short while, Fred and George broke the huddle wearing the biggest grins that Ron had ever seen on them. As they walked towards the staircase to their room, they stopped and looked back at Hermione with something nigh unto reverence. Before they turned away, Fred said with awe in his voice, “Hermione, we never realized how brilliant....and wicked, you are.”

George nodded, and added solemnly “Just remind us never to get on your bad side!” and they both saluted her smartly and said in unison, “We have our orders…we will not fail in the completion of our assignment!”

Hermione saluted them in return, as Harry queried mentally, <What was that all about, ‘Mione? Just what did you ask them to do?>

<Never you mind, Harry…you’ll see soon enough. Let’s just say I’m not about to allow certain things to happen to YOU this time around, either. For now, though, I’m getting tired. Could you help me with something?>

<Sure, Hermione…I even have a good idea about what it is…something to do with ‘hats for house elves’ if I recall?>

As she opened her bag and began to pull out some misshapen woolen objects, she responded, <How’d you know…oh, that’s right…you’ve already seen them, haven’t you? One question, Harry. Do I EVER get better at knitting them? To me, they look more like wooly bladders, to be totally honest.>

Harry answered very carefully, <Oh, LOADS better, actually…just keep practicing. You’ll get the hang of it.>

“What in the name of Merlin are you doing?” said Ron, watching her as though fearful for her sanity....

****

As Harry was starving, and he had his first detention with Umbridge at five o’clock, he headed straight for dinner without dropping off his bag in Gryffindor Tower so that he could bolt something down before facing what he knew she had in store for him. He had barely reached the entrance of the Great Hall, however, when a loud and angry voice said, “Oy, Potter!”

<Oh, bloody hell, I forgot…Angelina’s not too happy with me right now. Well, no time like the present to face her, I suppose.> “What’s wrong, Angelina? You seem a bit upset over something,” he said pleasantly.

“What’s wrong? WHAT’S WRONG? I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” she said marching straight up to him and poking him hard in the chest with her finger. “How come you’ve landed yourself in detention for five o’clock on Friday? In that letter you sent me just before the start of term, you said you would be there to help train Ron as a Keeper and Ginny as a second-string Seeker, right? Although I don’t know just WHY we need a second-team seeker with you around, truth be told…but be that as it may, I really do need your help. You said that Ron would have a new broom, right? Anyway, we need to do a tryout with the whole team if we want this to work out…and now you’ve decided you're not going to be there!”

“I didn’t decide not to be there!” said Harry, still stinging from the memories of what had happened during his previous fifth-year Quidditch experiences. “I got detention from that Umbridge woman, just because I told her the truth about You-Know-Who -” he said, carefully avoiding upsetting her any more by the use of Voldemort’s name.

“Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday,” said Angelina fiercely, “and I don’t care how you do it, tell her You-Know-Who’s a figment of your imagination if you like, just make sure you’re there!”

She stormed away.

“You know what?” Harry said to Ron and Hermione as he met up with them at the entrance to the Great Hall. “I think we’d better check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood’s been killed during a training session, because Angelina seems to be channeling his spirit.”

“What d’you reckon the odds of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?” said Ron skeptically, as they sat down at the Gryffindor Table.

Before he could answer, he heard two distinct, familiar female voices enter his head at the same time. <Actually, if we have anything to say in the matter, they may be better than you think, Harry. You actually didn’t think we were going to let her get away with her ‘punishments’ again, did you?>

Ron waved his hand in front of Harry’s face. “Harry, what’s going on? You just got a really big smile on your face…and no, I don’t want to know what caused it. So, how about it, Harry – what are the chances of getting out of detention for the tryouts?”

“Well, I was about to say that it was less than zero, but, you know, I think things are definitely looking more promising,” he said as he winked first at Harmony, seated at the staff table, then at Hermione. “You know, I might even get a chance to work on all that homework we have when I get finished tonight. You realize we’ve got to write three essays, practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a countercharm for Flitwick, finish the bowtruckle drawing, and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?”

Ron moaned and for some reason looked up at the ceiling.

“And it looks like it is going to rain.”

“What’s that got to do with our homework?” said Hermione, her eyebrows raised.

“Nothing,” said Ron at once, his ears reddening.

Harry turned to Ron and said, “Oh, that reminds me, Ron. I forgot to tell you something. You see, Angelina wants you to come to our practice on Friday. Seems we have a Keeper opening this year, and since you’ve got that new Cleansweep she thinks you might have a good shot at it. Oh, and she wants you to bring Ginny, too…she got an idea that we may need a reserve Seeker this year, and thought Ginny might want to try out for it.”

“Ginny? But Ginny doesn’t fly…”

“Doesn’t fly what, Ron?” Hermione said firmly. “Your sister isn’t half-bad at flying, you know.”

***

At five to five Harry bade the other two good-bye and set off for Umbridge’s office on the third floor. When he knocked on the door she said, “Come in,” in a sugary voice. He entered cautiously, looking around while pretending that he had never been there before. Of course, he remembered all too well what had happened the last time he was in her office, which caused his anger to rise once again.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter.”

****

“You haven’t given me any ink,” he said.

“Oh, you won’t need ink,” said Professor Umbridge with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

<That’s right, Harry…you won’t need any ink this time, either…Harmony and I did a little research in the library and we’d like to test a theory out that we came up with. Now, Harry, just relax and focus on her quill for a second…then at the creature who gave it to you.>

As Harry looked intently at the quill in his hand, he heard Hermione’s voice in his head utter a strange incantation and he saw a brief flash surrounding the tip. As he turned his attention to Dolores, he then heard Harmony repeat a different spell, causing Umbridge to shudder noticeably for a second before she looked at him impatiently.

“Well, get on with it, Potter… “I must not tell lies,” she prompted.

Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.

He heard a gasp of pain come from Dolores, and he could barely keep from smiling as he thought, <Looks like your theory has been proven, wouldn’t you say? So, you can each project spells through me, eh? I’m sure that will come in handy this year!> and then turned back to his parchment.

The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, Dolores had quickly glanced at her hand. Eyes wide, she watched in amazement for a moment, shook her head, and said, “Continue, please.”

“Surely, Professor. Now how many times did you want me to write this?” he said, grinning even more inside as he started writing lines as fast as he could go. I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies.

Each time his quill touched the parchment there was a gasp of pain from Umbridge as she watched the back of her hand curiously. After the third line was done, she reached over quickly and grabbed the quill out of his hand before he could start on the next one. “That will be all, Mr. Potter…I just remembered I have some important business to attend to this evening, but I expect you to report to me each night this week, especially this coming Friday, nonetheless.”

However, when Harry went to her office the following evening, there was a note on her door. The note explained that Dolores had taken mysteriously ill after lunch and all of her appointments were cancelled until further notice, while her classes would be taught by a substitute as soon as one could be found. As he walked quickly back to the Gryffindor common room, he thought to Hermione, <I don’t really have to ask this, but did YOU have something to do with Dolores’s sudden illness? Or, did you recruit a little help, maybe?>

As she replied, Harry could sense a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she said, as innocently as she could, <Moi, Harry? Whatever gave you the idea that I would even THINK of doing something to a teacher? I’m a good little Gryffindor, you know, just like you. I NEVER break the rules! Of course, I cannot vouch for the alleged actions of other, older members of my house…>

As he entered the portrait hole, he walked over quickly to Fred and George, who were seated next to Hermione. They had obviously been waiting for him to return. The twins stood up as he approached and Fred said, “So, how much do you want to know, Harry?”

“As little as possible for now. I’m sure that it is best if I can honestly deny any involvement at all in whatever happened to Dolores. But, be sure and give me all the details over a butterbeer sometime.” Harry said as he shook both their hands.

George added, solemnly. “By the way, Potter, if you ever get tired of having Hermione around, be sure and let us know. If we had her brains and strategy, along with our…well, special talents, we’d put Zonko’s out of business in a week.”

Harry smiled at Hermione as he said, “Well, I’ll tell you now – I’m never going to get tired of Hermione, so you can forget that. However, I’m sure we can probably come up with some kind of a partnership deal with the two of you. How about it, Hermione? Want to go into the joke shop business with these two?”

She quickly thought back to him before answering out loud <As long as all they want is my brains and ability to develop strategy, I’m sure we can work something out. As for the rest of me, that belongs to you and you alone, Harry!>

To the twins she said, “That sounds quite fun, actually. Deal?”

“DEAL!” the redheads said in unison.

*****

With the threat of having to put up with Dolores no longer looming over his head for the rest of the year, Harry’s mood lightened considerably. He was able to attend the Quidditch tryout and was pleased to see that Ron was actually the best of the lot who tried out for Keeper, even though admittedly he would need a lot of practice to be really good. Ginny, also, showed raw talent as a Seeker. The following morning, as he sat in his room and thought about what that would mean, he realized that Quidditch was less important to him this time around. For one thing, he was becoming aware that his newly- discovered maturity was helping him put things in perspective – while Quidditch was fun and exciting, he needed to focus on other things this year. And, he realized, he had something else this time around – the sure knowledge that he was in love with Hermione Granger, and he’d much rather spend time with her this year than at Quidditch practice <I remember what happened last time around – Ron was off practicing Quidditch, while Hermione and I were spending a lot of time together. And, I don’t want to give that up!>

<Give what up, Harry? Oh, sorry, was I interrupting a private thought?> Hermione’s voice in his head was very clear, even though she was across the castle in the library. <I couldn’t help but hear you – you were thinking of me, weren’t you? What is it, Harry? Something I can help you with?>

<Well, to tell you the truth, not really. I was just thinking about my priorities this year. What would you say to me playing just one more Quidditch match for old time’s sake, and then letting Ginny take over? I’ll still help Angelina work with the team and do some training, but I’d much rather spend more time with you. I’m not about to…well, never mind that. Besides, you’ve got to show me how to knit woolen hats, right?>

<Let me get this straight. You’re giving up Quidditch…and you want to help me with S.P.E.W.? Oh, Harry…do you mean it?>

<Of course I mean it, ‘Mione…you of all people shouldn’t have to ask – you know my mind now.>

<You know, Harry, if I wasn’t in the library right now, I’m sure I’d be shouting THANK YOU at the top of my lungs…if I wasn’t busy thanking you in a more personal way, that is. >

<Hmmm. Well, we’ll just have to see about that sometime. Remember, though, we promised Harmony we’d keep things low-key.>

Harmony’s voice broke in. <Sorry for listening in, but I couldn’t help it – you two were coming through pretty loudly. Harry, ‘low-key’ doesn’t mean you can’t still see each other, you know. Remember our agreement – I don’t want to know the details, and you both know not to cross…well, THAT line, but, you two enjoy yourself. Just warn me beforehand and I’ll make sure I’ll block the link on my side so I don’t intrude. It’s okay, Harry – you don’t have to feel bad for me. I understand perfectly. Remember, things will work out for the best for all of us. By the way, it IS Saturday, you know. Hermione, what ARE you doing in the library on a fine day like today? Go find Harry, and maybe you can have a picnic this afternoon while you teach him how to knit…if you have time, that is!>

******

The next change that came as a result of Dolores’ sudden absence happened the following Monday. As Ron, Harry, and Hermione headed to their Double DADA class, they speculated as to who the substitute would be. “Maybe we can get the real Professor Moody back for a while…I doubt we’d be so lucky as to get Lupin back, though” Harry said sadly.

“Nah,” Ron said. “I suppose Dumbledore would get sacked if he tried to bring back a werewolf. Hey, how about Tonks? She’s an Auror – she’d probably be quite brilliant at teaching DADA.” His face turned red as he considered other advantages of seeing her again.

“Oho, Ron…I’m definitely thinking that you may just fancy our friend the metamorphmagus?” Hermione said with a wink.

“Er…well…she was nice to me at…well, Order Headquarters this summer, especially when Hermione was being so mean to me and all. Besides, she is nice to look at, when she’s not got a pig’s nose, that is. A bloke can look, can’t he? It’s not as if I’ve got a girlfriend or something.”

“Oh, be patient, Ron,” Harry said knowingly. “For all you know, you’ve got a secret admirer just waiting for the proper time to reveal her true feelings for you. Maybe she’ll make something for you…or sing just for you…you never know. Just keep your eyes…and your mind, open.”

They entered the DADA classroom and took their seats, along with all the other students. When the bell rang, there was still no instructor at the front of the classroom. After about a minute, the murmuring started in earnest. “Maybe Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone…” “Hey, does this mean we can get up and leave? I’ve got better things to do than sit here…” “Oh, shut it, you…someone will be here soon.”

The door opened, and a hooded figure entered the room. “Yes, someone IS here…sorry for the delay, but I had a few things to discuss with the headmaster. I will be your DADA teacher until such time as Professor Umbridge is able to return or a different substitute can be found.”

Hermione raised her hand quickly. “But sir…you haven’t introduced yourself yet, and with that hood we don’t even know what you look like. How may we address you?”

“I apologize, but there is a very good reason why I cannot show you my face. However, you may address me as Professor…Boardman.”

Chapter 44 – Mustering an Army

<Professor…Boardman?> Harry thought to Hermione. <Where do I know that name from? It sounds so familiar…but I don’t know if it is a memory from before, or now…or both.>

Hermione responded slowly. <I seem to remember the name, too…but I can’t for the life of me think where…wait…I remember now! It was an article in that ridiculous magazine that Luna was reading on the train to Hogwarts. Remember, the one that that claimed that Sirius Black was actually a false name for Stubby Boardman, the lead singer for the Hobgoblins?>

<You don’t think…that this is…?> Harry thought with mounting excitement. <But why would he be coming here? Guess we’ll have to have a chat with our substitute professor after class.>

As it was, Harry and Hermione did not even have to come up with an excuse to talk to the mysterious instructor. Immediately after the bell sounded to dismiss the students, “Professor Boardman” called out over the general commotion as everyone gathered their bags and prepared to leave. “Mr. Potter…Miss Granger? I understand that you are both Gryffindor prefects, correct? I would like a word with you before you leave. Please wait for me in my temporary office – it’s just down the hall, the third door on the left. I’ll be in presently.”

It wasn’t long after they sat down in the small office (Harry could have sworn it was a broom closet the last time he was doing his rounds earlier that week) before the tall, hooded and cloaked man walked in, drew his wand, and immediately cast a locking spell and a privacy spell. Then, he pointed his wand at his own throat and waved it quickly. As the spell took effect, he said in a familiar voice, “There, that’s better. That voice-masking spell always makes my throat sore.”

“SIRIUS…IT IS YOU!” Harry yelled as his godfather pulled his hood back, revealing his dark hair and gray eyes, his face still reflecting the effects of his stay in Azkaban. “I thought you were going to stay at Headquarters. You know, of course, that you were identified at King’s Cross. What are you doing HERE? Someone’s bound to get suspicious.”

“Yes, well, that was a risk I was willing to take that day– had to see my godson the prefect off to school properly, you know.” Sirius said, smiling. “Now, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but we don’t have much time so I’ll fill you in on what has happened. After Professor Umbridge’s unexpected illness,” he said with a wink over his shoulder at Hermione, who had remained in the background during Harry’s reunion with his godfather, “…Albus contacted me and asked if I would be interested in filling in for a while as the DADA professor. He mentioned something about this being a way to give me some ‘quality time’ with my godson. I jumped at the chance, of course – I’ve always wanted to come back here, you know – not necessarily to teach, but just to be back to a place associated with such pleasant memories.” He sighed happily. “So, here I am…Professor Saiph Boardman.”

“Saiph?” Harry asked, puzzled. “If I remember right, the article in the Quibbler used the name “Stubby” for you, right?”

“Well, he couldn’t very well use the name of a REAL person, now could he?” Hermione said in what Harry always thought of as her ‘lecture’ voice. “Stubby really WAS the lead singer of the Hobgoblins fifteen years ago, so I’m sure it would raise too many questions if you used his name, right, Sirius? Besides, I doubt that a singer in a band would be qualified to teach DADA at Hogwarts. And, besides, Saiph is quite fitting…the sword of the Giant, right?”

Sirius continued to look at Harry and said, “That’s right, Lily. As usual, you cut right to the chase.” At Harry’s stunned expression and an audible gasp from Hermione, Sirius looked puzzled. “What’s wrong, you two? What did I say?”

“You…you called me…Lily.” Hermione said in a quiet voice.

“I did what?” Sirius said, slightly flustered as he turned towards her. “Oh, yeah, I guess I did…sorry about that, Hermione. But, Harry looks just like James…except for his eyes, of course, and I cannot count the times that the three of us were together right here at Hogwarts and Lily would lecture us on some subject or another sounding exactly like you did just then. I called it her ‘having to explain the obvious to people too thick to grasp the concept’ voice. Then, when you immediately rattled off the reference to my alias being the ‘sword of the Giant’… well, it was what some famous Muggle said was ‘déjà vu all over again…I apologize if I upset either of you.”

Hermione quickly spoke up. “Oh, that’s quite all right…that is, if it doesn’t bother you, Harry?”

“Hmm?” Harry seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. “Oh…yeah. No, of course it doesn’t bother me…if it doesn’t bother you, that is?’

<Harry, what’s wrong? You looked like you had another one of your flashbacks…I thought we took care of all those memory blocks.> Hermione quickly thought.

Harry responded just as quickly. <Oh…it’s nothing, ‘Mione…at least nothing I want to talk about now. Maybe sometime when we are alone.>

Sirius looked quickly at both Harry and Hermione. “What’s going on, you two? I swear you must be channeling James and Lily…not to mention Frank and Alice. Just now, you were acting just like them – Remus and I used to tease them something fierce about it after they started going together. It was almost as if we weren’t even there sometimes –it was just the two of them, holding a private conversation without words. At first we thought it quite rude…but then, we realized that it was something …well, quite special,” he said with a wistful sigh.

“Oh, look at me…getting all sentimental…must be getting old or something,” Sirius said, dabbing at his eyes. “You’re right, of course. I met with Albus before class and he was the one that suggested the name. Actually, it’s appropriate for another reason, Hermione. Neither one of you may remember this from the family tree you saw this summer at…you know where, but if you recall, I have a first cousin named Bellatrix Lestrange…she’s in Azkaban, you know – she had the cell diagonally across from mine for a while – someone there must have had a sense of humor.”

Hermione’s face immediately brightened at exactly the same time as Harry’s countenance fell. “Oh, that’s VERY good, Sirius…it looks like the Headmaster has a sense of humor, too. Harry, don’t you remember from our Astronomy classes? Bellatrix is the star diagonally opposite Saiph in Orion…and, from what we saw this summer, Sirius and Bellatrix are about as opposite each other as they can be!” She finally noticed that Harry was no longer paying attention to her. In fact, his whole body seemed to be rigid, with a look of near panic frozen on his face. “Harry, what’s wrong? Harry?” <Harry….HARRY, snap out of it…it’s me, ‘Mione! What is going on? Harry, listen to me…that woman’s not going to hurt you here. Sirius and I are with you…Harry?>

Hearing no response in her mind, Hermione said forcefully, “SIRIUS…you’re going to have to help me – Harry’s in some kind of shock. We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey right away.”

“What’s going on, Hermione? What’s wrong with Harry? Why would hearing my cousin’s name do this to him? He’s never even met her.”

“Er…well, explanations like that will have to wait! Now let’s MOVE!” Hermione said as she levitated Harry’s stiff body out the door.

“Yes, ma’am!” Sirius said as he quickly pulled his hood up to cover his face. “I’ll lead the way in case we run across some curious onlookers. Let me think…what’s a good cover story?” he said as they started down the hall towards the infirmary. I know - you’re practicing how to steer a foe you have disabled and are taking to the authorities…that’s it!”

*

“Miss Granger…and Professor…Boardman, is it? Albus just informed me that you have joined the staff here. Welcome to Hogwarts! And, what’s this? Mr. Potter, frozen again? I’d better contact the headmaster right away.” She grabbed a quill and wrote a quick note, labeling the parchment with Dumbledore’s name, and then tapped it with her wand. The note flew rapidly through the open infirmary doors. “There – he’ll be along presently. Now, what happened?”

“Well, Madam Pomfrey”, Sirius said from under his hood, “I was having a chat with Miss Granger and Mr. Potter here, and suddenly Harry stiffened up like you see here. I had just mentioned something about…well, never mind that,” he said quickly as he realized he would reveal his identity if he had mentioned his cousin’s name.

Poppy’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “You’re going to have to tell me the whole story, Professor….without all the facts, I may not be able to diagnose his condition accurately. By the way, you can’t fool me with that hood, you know. I admit it’s been quite a while, but…how are you, Sirius?”

“How…how did you know?” Sirius sputtered.

Pomfrey laughed. “How could I forget the voice of one of the infamous Marauders? You forgot to disguise your voice just now, didn’t you? The four of you seemed to spend more than the normal amount of time in my infirmary, if I recall. Always experimenting with pranks…practicing charms that are not part of the normal curriculum here that sometimes backfired…oh, yes – how could I forget you? And, before you get too worried, remember I am a Healer – I’m quite used to keeping confidences, as Miss Granger and Mr. Potter are both quite aware.”

As he lowered his hood, he smiled at Poppy and said “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I am quite aware of your professional discretion…I too remember some of the…erm…more embarrassing situations you helped us out of.”

“Yes, a few of those hex combinations you tried led to…shall we say, interesting side effects,” she replied, her eyes twinkling merrily. “But, please, Sirius, call me Poppy. That goes for you, too, Hermione. As was recently pointed out, you are also an adult…biologically, that is.”

Hermione smirked. “Well, so much for your ability to keep confidences, eh, Poppy? Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure that Sirius will find out soon enough…but more about that later. First, let’s focus back on why we’re here – Harry’s still frozen, you know. What Sirius wasn’t telling you was that he had just mentioned his cousin Bellatrix’s name and that seemed to trigger Harry’s paralysis. Of course you understand the reasons for that reaction, but is there something you can do to bring him out of it?”

“Hmmm…well, yes, now it makes sense.” Poppy muttered to herself as she performed a quick diagnostic charm. “Yes…see here, Hermione, where his aura has turned so dark…that is the after effect of the spell that…well…caused this whole situation. The last time I saw this, it seemed to be healing quite nicely. Now it looks like someone has picked at the wound and opened it up again. Well, no matter; besides, all we’re doing here is piquing Mr. Black’s curiosity. Just be patient, Sirius. Hermione, I need you to do something for Harry. It may be a bit embarrassing, but it’s the quickest way to bring him round.”

“What is it, Poppy? You know of course I’ll do anything for Harry if it will help. What do you need me to do?”

Pomfrey leaned over and whispered in Hermione’s ear. As she listened, Hermione’s eyes grew quite wide and she blushed deeply, but then she got a happy smile on her face as she continued to receive instructions. Finally, she said, her face quite flushed, “Of course, Poppy…but I’d prefer to have a little privacy if I’m going to do that kind of therapy with Harry. Do you have any ideas as to an appropriate location?”

“Well, I’d prefer to keep the infirmary clear just in case other students need my services. But, there is another place that would serve your purposes. Isn’t that right, Albus?” She looked up at the Headmaster, who had silently entered the room and now stood behind Sirius.

The headmaster smiled and said, “Since I didn’t hear all of the conversation, I suppose I need some background before I answer that question. Miss Granger, do you care to explain why Harry is once again in a frozen state? I assume this has something to do with Poppy’s inquiry?”

Between the three of them, Hermione, Sirius, and Poppy quickly got him caught up with what had happened, and at the appropriate time in the story Poppy whispered the same instructions to Albus that she had given Hermione. His mustache twitched considerably as he said, “Well, now…that does pose an interesting problem. But, I know just the place…and I’m sure I can arrange a way for you two to travel there quickly and undetected.” He reached into his robes and pulled out a plain glass ball, then tapped it with his wand and said “Portus”. The sphere glowed blue and trembled for a moment before he handed it to Hermione. “Just grab on to Harry’s hand while you are holding this stone, and when you say you’re ready it will take you to a specific place in the castle. You will find yourself next to an apparently blank wall. Walk past that section of blank wall three times concentrating hard on what you need. I’m sure you can take it from there. Just remember my counsel from before…don’t get too carried away in your eagerness to reawaken Mr. Potter that you forget the potential consequences to the two of you. I fear you will need all the help you can get when you have to face Tom.”

“Yes, headmaster. I promise I will control myself. Harry and I have discussed this subject before, and we both understand what’s at stake. But, that reminds me…would you please talk to Harmony about…well, you know…we promised we’d warn her before…well, we did anything like…” Hermione’s voice trailed off in embarrassment.

“Surely, Miss Granger. I will notify her immediately. In fact, I think she may be in need of a specific potion from Poppy’s stores here to help her over the next hour or so. I will summon her immediately, but give us a few moments after you arrive before you begin.” Albus then noticed that Sirius appeared about ready to burst with curiosity as he listened to the strange conversation. “Besides, that will also give me some time to bring our new professor up to speed on…well, the strange story we are all in the middle of. Miss Puckle will be VERY happy to see you, Sirius, and it will probably help keep her mind off of…certain distractions that may be in her mind. Off you go, then.”

Hermione held the glass ball in her right hand while she grabbed Harry’s arm with her left. She smiled at the three adults and said, cheekily, “Well, fortunately we don’t have any more classes today…if we did, I’m sure we’d both be absent. Priorities, you know!” She winked at the headmaster as she said “I’m ready!” and felt that familiar jerk behind her navel.

After they stopped moving, Hermione followed her instructions and soon a doorknob appeared. She opened it and was surprised to see an area which looked very much like the Gryffindor common room, except it was unoccupied. She levitated Harry in the door, (which closed immediately behind them and disappeared) and as she walked around the room she discovered there was a large, comfortable couch and two beautifully upholstered chairs next to a warm, inviting fireplace. The flickering oranges and yellows were quite romantic, she thought. Even though it had been warm outside that late summer day at Hogwarts, in the room there was enough of a chill that she was glad for the added warmth. <Yes…cuddling by the fire with Harry is something I could get used to very easily.> Standing in one corner on a pair of mannequins there were two sets of familiar clothes, one for her and one for Harry. Finally, she saw a large buffet table loaded with their favorite foods.

<Hmmm…well, we are going to miss dinner, aren’t we…but that can wait until later. First, I’ve got some healing to attend to.> As Hermione remembered her instructions, she once again blushed deeply as she gently lowered Harry’s form onto the couch and looked at him with a mixture of love and concern. “Well, before we get started, I’d better take care of something. <Harmony? Are you there? Have Albus and Poppy warned you about…?>

<Yes, Hermione, they have. Poppy is preparing the bond-numbing potion for me now. Besides, I’m going to be quite preoccupied myself, explaining things to Sirius. So don’t worry about me…just do what you need to do to…for Harry…and for us. I hope that I can trust you not to cross the line, though. >

<Of course, Harmony…you of all people should realize that I wouldn’t violate that sacred trust…anything that would harm Harry…or you…would of course harm me, too. Now, take your potion…and soon, we’ll have our Harry back.>

<I’m sure we will…and Hermione, just be careful with him….for our sakes.>

The last thing Hermione could sense from Harmony was her taking a shimmering potion, and then the bond between them went silent. “Well, Harry…it’s just you and me now,” she said softly to the still body on the couch. “First, I suppose we need to get out of these robes. Then let’s see if I can fetch you round.”

*****

After what seemed like an eternity, a weak, but welcome voice was heard coming from the couch. “Hermione…where am I….where are we?”

Tears of relief slid slowly down Hermione’s cheeks as she grabbed him in a hug. “HARRY! You’re back! I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to get through to you…I couldn’t hear your voice in my head any more…I… I thought I’d lost you,” she said with a barely stifled sob.

Harry, who had been quite distracted by his girlfriend’s arms wrapped around him, whispered softly, “No, Hermione…I’m still here. I’m not going to go out that easily…I’ve still got some business with Tom to attend to, you know.” And then, as he became more aware of his surroundings, he said with alarm, “’Mione…what are you wearing? And…what happened to my robes?”

“Oh...that...” she said quickly. “Well, when we got here, I saw these clothes…and they looked so beautiful…and…well, don’t you remember the last time we wore these?

“Of course, my love. They are the Romeo and Juliet costumes you conjured up for us…that evening by the lake. But why...HOW did you get them on me? Or you, for that matter? Don’t tell me you…”

She grinned mischievously. “Well, Harry…you WERE quite unaware of your surroundings, you know…so I felt there wouldn’t be any problem with me changing out of my clothes in front of you.” Harry gulped audibly as he tried not to think about what she had just said. “And, as to your robes…” As she felt Harry’s increasing discomfort, she finally confessed. “Oh, silly, don’t you remember first year? I AM a witch, you know. I just used a simple switching spell…for both of us. I was just teasing you. Your school robes are over there on the mannequin, next to mine.” But then, a wicked gleam crossed her face for a second as she whispered huskily in his ear, “Oh, by the way…nice underpants, Harry.” As his jaw dropped in shock, she yelled “GOTCHA!” jumped up from the couch and ran away giggling, hiding behind one of the chairs by the fireplace.

“OOOH…Miss Granger, you are DEFINITELY going to pay for that one!” Harry said as he took up the pursuit.

*

“Albus, even though I have the evidence standing right here in front of me…and quite beautiful evidence at that, if I may be so bold, Miss Puckle…” Harmony smiled warmly at Sirius’s compliment, “…I’ll have to say that your story is one of the strangest I’ve ever heard…and I’ve heard quite a few in my time.”

“Nonetheless, Sirius, I assure you it is true. Miss Puckle is, as you have heard and seen, actually Miss Hermione Granger from an alternate reality - or more accurately, we are part of her alternate reality - because of the time loop your cousin created when she forced Harry back in time to relive his days at Hogwarts. Fortunately, Harmony here was able to intervene, so now we are just trying to get Harry to the point where we can complete the restoration of the original timeline. It’s all quite complicated, but I’m sure Minerva and Poppy can explain…”

Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Begging your pardon, Professor McGonagall, Poppy, but I didn’t come back to Hogwarts to have to sit through more lectures. I’ll trust you know what you’re talking about. I just want to know if there is something I can do to help. Anything I can do to interfere with my dear cousin’s plans...count me in! I AM still a Gryffindor, you know!”

Harmony’s face fell momentarily as she remembered the results of his bravery, but before Sirius noticed, she smiled at him and held his hand. “Well, actually, there is one thing that I’d like you to consider helping Harry with this year. I think you’d be perfect!”

*

“So, Sirius, are you up to the challenge?” Harmony said. Last time I did this for Harry we had to work secretly, but at least this time we’ll be able to be an official club. That is, if you consent to be the faculty advisor for the Defense Association…known in my time as Dumbledore’s Army.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for all the flea powder in England!” Sirius said. “And, coming from a dog animagus like myself, that really means something!” he said with a grin.

*

Back in the Room of Requirement, Harry was leaning with his back up against one of the chairs, with Hermione seated between his legs as they both faced the fire. His arms were wrapped around her waist as she relaxed against his chest. After they had tired themselves out chasing each other around the room…and then catching each other a few times, they had eaten their fill of the wonderful buffet and were now relaxing together. <I was right, Harry…cuddling with you like this IS quite nice, don’t you agree?>

“Mmmmhmmm…” he whispered as he kissed the hair on the back of her head and gave her waist a quick squeeze. Then, Hermione saw him stare back into the fire, the orange flames reflecting in his glasses.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself, Harry? Surely you can do better than that,” she said, pretending to pout.

Harry smiled wryly and answered, “Well, by now you should know that much about me, Hermione, I’m not all that much on flowery talk…but you, of all people, should be able to know just what I feel about you. Here…come into my mind for a second.”

As Harry dropped the mind blocks he had remembered how to set up from his previous experience with Severus in the original timeline, Hermione concentrated on seeing into his mind. After a few minutes passed, Harry looked down at Hermione. “Hermione, why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

She smiled up at him tearfully, sighing and snuggling closer into his chest, “Oh, Harry…nothing’s wrong, silly. It’s just not every young woman who gets a chance to see EXACTLY what her boyfriend feels about her…you really DO love me, don’t you?”

“Do I really have to answer that?”

“No…but you do have to experience it. It’s your turn, you know. Please…look into my mind and see what I feel about you.”

Soon, it was Harry who was weeping tears of joy. “Thanks, ‘Mione…now I know why you did what you did for me…both this evening…and in the other timeline when you came back for me as Harmony. You really do love me, too, don’t you?”

“Of course, Harry. Now, what was it I said a little over a year ago? Just shut up and kiss me, Harry.”

As happened the last time, he gave the only appropriate response under the circumstances. “Yes, ma’am!” he said as he rapidly complied with her demands.

*

The next day at breakfast Dumbledore stood up and formally introduced the substitute DADA professor, Saiph Boardman. At the same time, he announced the formation of a new student club dedicated to the advanced study of Defense against the Dark Arts. This club would be available for second year students and above from all houses. The club would be led by Professor Boardman and Miss Puckle sharing duties as faculty advisors and Harry Potter as instructor. He had resisted at first, but then Harmony reminded him how important the training had been for all the students, not just him, the first time around. <Besides, Harry, since we’re starting it so early this year compared to last time, just think how much better everyone will be this year. I surely don’t want Hermione to be caught off guard the same way I was last time…and I know you don’t, either. This time it WILL be different.>

A magical sign-up sheet was posted in the Great Hall after breakfast. Students were told that if they preferred, their interest in the training would be kept secret if they were concerned about the opinions of others in their house. Only students who signed up, however, would be allowed at the first meeting, which was to be held Wednesday evening in the Great Hall.

When the time came for the first meeting, Harry was pleasantly surprised that the first ones to enter the hall was a group of Slytherins led by Blaise Zabini. He walked directly over to Harry and said “Bet you’d forgotten about us, hadn’t you, Harry? Ever since you changed houses we haven’t seen much of you, you know. Of course, you WERE busy with the tournament last year…but we’re still behind you – that is, if you still want us here?” he said with a bit of uncertainty.

Harry quickly grabbed Blaise’s hand and shook it warmly as he looked at the small group of students wearing silver and green house crests. “Of course you are welcome here, Blaise...all of you.” He added sheepishly, “Sorry I haven’t been back. My last dealings with my former housemates ended with me paralyzed in the infirmary…”he winked at Hermione as he remembered what happened THAT night, “…so I doubt I’d even be allowed in the hall to the Slytherin common room without suffering a worse fate.”

Soon, the sign up sheet by the door glowed, and the doors to the Great Hall sealed themselves. “That’s it then, Harry”, Harmony said happily, smiling over at Professor Boardman. “Everyone who signed up for the club is now here, so we can start whenever you’re ready.”

“Right,’ said Harry, “shall we get practicing, then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do…”

(A/N – So, there you have it. If you are wondering about Sirius’s alias, I knew I couldn’t use Stubby, (for the reasons that Hermione stated) so I started looking around for alternates that would allow him to keep the same initials. And then, out of the blue, it hit me. I was a bit of an amateur astronomer in a previous life, so as I thought about the “star name” pattern in the Black family tree and did a bit of research until I realized the name Saiph was the obvious choice…at least to me.

If you want to know more about it, just Google the phrase Saiph Orion Constellation or follow the link above. If you think that this chapter was full of fluff and sweetness, just wait until the next one!)

Chapter 45 – Christmas at Grimmauld

(A/N – Fair warning – this chapter will end up as a fluff and sweetness chapter…calm before the storm and all that.)

After all that had happened during that first week, Harry could easily understand the old saying about being on top of the world as they settled in to the routine of the new term. Compared to his memories of his original experiences during fifth year, he much preferred this version of events. First, of course, he no longer had to deal with a certain hag. Word had gotten out that she was still recovering in a private room on the fourth floor of St. Mungo’s. Apparently, as rumor had it, the healers were unable to reverse the effects of whatever jinx, hex or curse that they assumed had been performed on her. Every time they would successfully reverse one of her many “conditions”, it would be replaced by another one in a specific sequence – as if the magical cure itself was the trigger for the next attack.

<Maybe one of these days I’ll send an anonymous tip in telling them that she needed to be treated on the next floor down.> Harry mused one night as he tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. <On second thought, I’m not all that fussed about her problem. Besides, if she had stayed much longer this time, I’m sure things would have been worse for her…and for me, if I had had to put up with her for the whole year! Besides…this way, I have Sirius here!>

If asked whose company he preferred between Sirius, Hermione, and Harmony, Harry would have found it very difficult to choose. He found that he enjoyed his time with each of them for very different reasons. Hermione, of course, was never far away from his thoughts... or him, for that matter. He came to rely on her presence – either physically, in the form of a soft hand touching his arm…a quick kiss on the stairs as she left the common room to retire to her dormitory room - or as a familiar, welcome voice in his mind. Harmony, at least in public, was the model of equanimity with respect to Harry. Whenever she was near him, in class, during DA practices, or in the Great Hall she was quite aloof, in an obvious attempt to keep other students from being aware of their newly rediscovered relationship. This attempt extended to their mutual decision to not spend time with each other, because the potential risk of being caught together would be too great. However, in his private mental exchanges with her, he came to see another side to his Charms professor that was quite wonderful to experience and made him wish once again for the resolution of the quandary they were in.

However, even as much as he loved his association with the “two” women in his life, the sheer joy he felt at being reunited with his godfather was hard to top. It almost compensated for the twinge of guilt he felt every time he looked at him. He had mentally discussed this with Harmony on many occasions during the term, and they were both unsure if they should let Sirius know what had happened to him. Finally, they agreed to keep him in the dark at least until they could consult with Albus about the proper course.

There was one change in the timeline; however, that Harry was less happy about – his relationship (or lack of same) with Ron. Sure, Ron attended all the DA meetings faithfully, and was becoming quite adept at his spell work (aided, Harry had no doubt, by some private tutoring from a dirty-blonde haired Ravenclaw) and was improving greatly at Quidditch during their practices…but now that he remembered that he and Ron had once been inseparable, he felt a sense of loss. <Sometimes, it would be nice to have…well, a mate my own age to talk about “guy things” with...I mean, Sirius is a great friend and all, but it’s just not the same.> He sighed quietly. <Well, it proves once again that there are changes in the timeline – I hope this means that we can successfully make some other changes, too. I WILL NOT see Hermione hurt or Sirius killed again…not if I can help it. Tom’s already cost me my dad and my mum…>. As he thought about Lily, once again he remembered the flashback he experienced when Sirius had inadvertently called Hermione by Lily’s name. In the flashback that day, he was there when Lily was struck by a green bolt of light and fell to the ground, dead. But, when he ran to her side in the dream and looked at her face, he realized that it wasn’t his mum after all.

It was Harmony.

That was why he didn’t want to tell Hermione about what he had seen at the time, or even afterwards as they were together in the Room of Requirement. Harry had been relieved that Hermione hadn’t pressed him on the subject, even though he had vaguely mentioned that he would tell her about it the next time they were alone. But most of all, he was also quite pleased that his mind shields had held when Hermione entered his mind to bring him back from the fugue he found himself in after hearing Bella’s name. He really wasn’t prepared to explain himself to her then, and still wasn’t, honestly. <And, I can’t very well tell Harmony, can I? That would be something – “I had a funny dream, Harmony. It looks like I’ve got you confused with my mum…and I think Tom Riddle is going to kill you.” I mean, I haven’t even told Sirius anything, and I KNOW what happened to him last time around.>

Harry had discussed what to do about Sirius thoroughly with Harmony. She, along with Albus and Minerva, had convinced him to keep quiet about what he knew for now. They were all hoping that they could avoid a repetition of the events that led to Sirius’s death originally, and in that case, their concerns about his safety would be moot. Harry, however, was not completely convinced. He felt that he, personally, would want to know, for he remembered how much pain and suffering his not knowing certain facts had caused his friends previously.

Harry sighed again and flopped restlessly back on his bed in his darkened dormitory room. He glanced at the new magical watch Hermione had insisted on buying for him at Hogsmeade their first visit of the year. He remembered her excitement quite well as she dragged him into a small shop he had never noticed before. <Look, Harry…it never needs winding or batteries, it is completely waterproof, it glows in the dark, and if you tap it with your wand like so, it changes so it works like that clock at the Burrow – allows you to keep track of the whereabouts of anyone you want. Might come in handy, you never know.>

Of course, he had set the watch to keep track of Hermione, Sirius, and Harmony at first. Convincing the watch to accept Miss Puckle as a separate person required a long series of spells performed by the headmaster himself, but he repeated the complex sequence very quickly as if he were quite familiar with the necessary charms. Right now, Sirius’s hand was pointing to “Office”, Hermione’s to “Dormitory”, and Harmony’s to “Staff Quarters”, which meant that everyone was where they should be. <So, why can’t I get to sleep? There’s nothing to worry about...well, except for my first and last Quidditch match of the year…against Slytherin… tomorrow.>

Harry had gladly kept the promise he made earlier to Hermione, even though Ron and Angelina were especially upset with him when he made the announcement one day after practice. Neither one would speak civilly to him for a week, but he was convinced that his time this year would be better spent in learning new ways to protect Hermione and Sirius than in riding his broom around. Besides, he realized, he had survived this year in the original timeline while only participating in one match, so he figured he could do it again, especially when it was a voluntary decision on his part. Of course, the fact that his final match would be against his former house was somehow apropos.

<That is, if I can get to sleep long enough so I won’t fall off my broom tomorrow out of sheer fatigue!> he thought with exasperation. <Now, what was that sleeping charm Miss Puckle showed me?>

Harmony’s quiet voice, (which sounded more and more like Hermione’s, Harry thought) entered his head. <Trouble sleeping, my love? Don’t you have some kind of game to play tomorrow morning?> He could almost see the smirk on her face. <Well, we can’t have you tired out on your big day, can we? Remember the incantation I told you last time… Good… now the wand movements…Good night, Harry!> she said as she felt him relax into a deep slumber immediately.

*****

<Don’t let Ron see what’s on those Slytherins’ badges,> Hermione thought urgently.

Harry nodded. <Yes, ‘Mione…I remember all about that. Oh, by the way, Harmony, I’ve been meaning to ask you – could you explain something to me? Just why DID you give Ron a kiss before this match last time? Surely you didn’t fancy him then, did you?>

<YOU…I mean I … did WHAT to Ron?> Hermione chimed in to the conversation with obvious disbelief.

To both Hermione and Harry, Harmony’s answer from the staff table where she was eating her breakfast seemed rather exasperated. <HONESTLY, you two! Could you just grow up a bit? Just because a girl gives a friend a kiss on the cheek it doesn’t always mean she’s in love with him. I just remember him standing there so forlorn, and I wanted to show that I was still his friend. Don’t worry, Hermione – it looks like someone else has taken on that responsibility this time around.> she said as Luna, wearing her lion-head shaped hat, walked up to Ron, put her arms around him and kissed him firmly on the mouth. This caused quite the uproar from the rest of the student body as she wished him good luck. <However, > Harmony continued, chortling in the mind link, <I’d definitely consider THAT particular kiss as meaning something more than just friendship!>

****

“Captains, shake hands,” ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. Harry could tell that Montague was trying to crush Angelina’s fingers, though she did not wince. “Mount your brooms…”

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward; out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Ron streak off toward the goal hoops. He zoomed higher, dodging a Bludger, and set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold; on the other side of the stadium, Draco Malfoy was doing exactly the same.

****

“…we won, Harry, we won!” Angelina said, still glaring at Crabbe.

Harry heard a snort from behind him and turned around, still holding the snitch tightly in his hand: Draco Malfoy had landed close by; white-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer even as Fred Weasley accidentally bumped into him.

“Saved Weasley’s neck, haven’t you?” he said to Harry. “I’ve never seen a worse Keeper…but then he was born in a bin…Did you like my lyrics, Potter?”

Harry did not answer. Instead, he watched in amazement while Draco’s ears started to lengthen while his nose and mouth elongated into a snout…as grey fur sprouted on his face and his voice picked up a definite braying quality. Then, Harry could see the tip of a tail showing from under Draco’s Quidditch robes.

The students around began to notice something was amiss as Draco fell onto all fours and started to kick. As they realized what was happening, they all started laughing hysterically at Malfoy, who by now had turned into what, Harry realized, was an appropriate form – that of a complete jackass. <Hmmm…looks like someone’s familiar with the Muggle story about Pinocchio! Wonder who it could be?>

As he looked around, he noticed a sly grin on the faces of two red-headed twins…and Hermione. <Ah…that explains it! She would be familiar with that fairy tale, wouldn’t she? Looks like the partnership is still working quite well. Zonkos had better watch out!>

******

The victory celebration in the Gryffindor common room that evening was louder and happier than normal as the snow swirled outside the windows. Next to the large banners recognizing Harry’s retirement from the house Quidditch team and welcoming him as the new team assistant manager in charge of training, there was an even larger poster that was attracting most of the attention. Colin Creevy had been present earlier, and as a result there was an enlarged magical photograph repeatedly showing Malfoy’s transformation from blonde haired Slytherin to donkey and back again.

After a round of butterbeers, Seamus Finnegan loudly proposed a toast to the Weasley twins and Hermione for their contribution to the day’s entertainment. Fred, of course, took the opportunity to solicit orders for their latest product, Donkey Drops, which could be administered to anyone just by applying the potion to their skin – as long as the pranker was wearing Weasley’s All-Purpose Invisible Gloves.

“As you can see from the advertisement behind us, the potion is quite effective and completely reversible…not that we’ve let Malfoy or Pomfrey know that yet. By the way, Colin, you have a job as our chief photographer whenever you want! Couldn’t have come up with a better campaign if we had paid someone for it!”

As the merriment continued through the night, Harry thought contentedly, <Thank you, ‘Mione, for what you did to keep me from getting in a fight with Draco this evening.>

She walked towards the window and looked out on the snow-covered grounds as she responded. <You’re welcome, Harry…after Harmony warned me about what happened last time, I knew I had to do something to intervene. Even though that hag isn’t around to ban you this time, I didn’t want anyone to remember your last match at Hogwarts as ending up in a brawl.>

Harry smiled at her. <Well, with you and Harmony always looking out for me, I’m pretty well set. In fact, I don’t know if there’s anything that would make me any happier right now.>

As she spotted something moving in the distance, she smiled broadly. <Oh, I can think of one thing…Hagrid’s back.>

When they sat down at Hagrid’s table shortly thereafter, Harry was pleased to learn that Hagrid’s trip to visit the giants was much more successful. “Blimey, ‘arry, Olympe and I sure do thank ye for that little tip you gave Dumbledore about where t’ fin’ them Death Eaters…don’ know how you knew wha’ we was up to, a’course, but never min’ tha’…” he smiled as he patted Harry on the back as gently as possible, which knocked him right into his tea mug. “Sorry abou’ tha’, Harry…anyway, 'twent real good with the Gurg…Karkus was his name…after we handed over our ‘prisoners’ to him, tha’ is…Told him we’d caugh’ some intruders in his territory. Right pleased, he was…said his tribe had been pretty hungry lately…between that and the magic gifts Dumbledore gave us, we think it did the trick.”

“So, the giants are on our side, then?” Harry asked with growing anticipation, trying not to think too much about the fate of Macnair and his group of Death Eaters.

Hagrid scratched his beard and pondered his answer for a moment. “Well, tha’s hard t’ say, really, seein’s how they aren’t really all that keen on makin’ frien’s…but Karkus did agree to not interfere in what was comin’…for either side. He also said to thank you, ‘arry…for that other warnin’ about Golgomath. As we were leavin’ their valley, I saw Karkus pers’nally tossin’ his rival’s head into the lake. Still can’ figure out how you knew his name and everythin'…you been doin’ some extra studyin’ in Trelawney’s class?”

Harry shrugged and quickly changed the subject. “Oh, yeah…must be something like that. So, how’s Madame Maxime?”

*****

December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a positive avalanche of homework for the fifth years. Harry and Hermione’s prefect duties took a lot of their time, but with their enhanced communication skills they were soon known around the castle as the “perfect prefects”. In fact, even Peeves seemed to have met his match after a few run-ins with a very determined Hermione. She never told Harry exactly what she did, but soon thereafter the poltergeist was seen helping decorate the castle for the upcoming Christmas season. Harry realized whatever she did got his attention, because whenever Peeves saw her from then on he always bowed politely. “Yes, Miss Granger…whatever you say, Miss Granger” he would say, and then he would turn happily to whatever task she had given him.

This month was much more pleasant for Harry this time for another reason. With his memory restored, Harry had earlier warned Albus against having Arthur serve as a guard in the DOM the week before Christmas, so he was quite relieved when Albus arranged for a late night meeting of the Wizengamot that night instead. “That should keep a certain slithery visitor from snooping around, eh, Harry?” Dumbledore said with a grin.

For the first time in his school career, Harry was quite looking forward to spending the holidays away from Hogwarts. During a DA meeting in early November, Sirius had suggested that Harry start up a contest for the club, with the top three pairs winning a stay over the break at an undisclosed location where they could receive advanced training from Sirius and Harmony. Harry thought this was a great idea and geared the club’s training towards competitive DADA skills.

Tonks, Lupin, and Moody were invited to serve as the Auror judges for the competition, held the first week of December, with the whole school watching. At the end, the team of Ron and Luna took second by 10 points behind Hermione and Harry, with (surprisingly enough) Neville and Ginny not far behind them.

So, it was with great excitement that Dobby, the three couples, and Harmony and Professor Boardman serving as chaperones loaded onto the Knight Bus on the last day of term and headed for Grimmauld Place (or, at least, as close as the Bus could go to a place protected by Dumbledore’s Fidelius charm).

The five days before Christmas were quite busy for them all. During one particularly grueling practice session on the first day of training, Ron was breathing hard after an attack from Neville. He started complaining that he had never worked so hard on a school holiday in his life. “When‘re we going to have some time to relax? All work and no play, you know…”

Luna, who had also taken a bit of a breather after being hit by one of Ginny’s stunners, smiled at her red-headed boyfriend and said, “Oh, Ronald…you just let me take care of that. I’m sure that between the two of us, we can think of something that will serve as a pleasant break from training this evening.”

Ron, his hands still on his knees, looked up at her and saw the look in her eyes, which caused his ears to redden quickly. A hooded Professor Boardman noticed the exchange, and quickly teased, “Well, you lot - are we going to have to establish some behavior ground rules as to the sleeping arrangements around here? I know the owner of this place, and I wouldn’t want him to think you students were doing anything inappropriate, now would I? Harmony, maybe you should brush up on your “opposite sex” door wards – they’re quite effective at keeping everyone in their proper rooms, you know.” He motioned the three couples in closer and whispered “It’s the same idea as the protections on the staircases to the girl’s dormitories in each house…if you do your best over the break maybe I’ll give you a few clues as to how to overcome that little obstacle…strictly for training purposes, mind you. These wards CAN be used to slow down mixed-gender Auror teams, you know – so there’s a practical reason why you need to know about how to defeat them.”

“Saiph, just what do you think you’re telling the students?” Harmony sounded quite shocked as she held an Extendible Ear in one hand. “I’ll have you know that I’m not going to allow ANY such activities while I’m here…so be warned. As of tonight, all the girl’s bedrooms, including mine, will be protected by the strongest wards I can come up with…as will the boy’s. I will also ask Dobby to patrol the halls at night just in case you get any ideas about getting together somewhere else in the house.” Harmony was surprised to hear Hermione’s voice in her mind. <Erm…Miss Puckle…you might want to reconsider what you just said. I can’t tell you why, just yet…please trust me on this one, Harmony.>

“On second thought,” Harmony said after a moment’s pause, “how about a compromise…if you all promise to behave yourself and stay out of each other’s bedrooms, I won’t put up the wards each night and Dobby will stay in his room. But, the first time I catch any of you in the wrong place, they will go up. You’ll have plenty of free time each night that you can spend together in the kitchen after dinner, besides. That way we can keep you out of trouble, right, Professor?”

*

Soon, it was Christmas Eve. The three couples’ team defense skills were improving at a rapid pace, so much so that they had been given the entire afternoon off to rest and work on whatever Christmas presents they were giving each other. Harry noticed that Hermione was very secretive whenever he fished for hints on what she was going to give him. He, of course, had already purchased a copy of New Theory of Numerology, (<That seemed to go over well last time, anyway...and besides, Hermione doesn’t have one – only Harmony does.> he thought to himself. < I just hope that Hermione comes up with a better idea than that homework diary she gave me last time…even though I did end up using it some, come to think of it.)

Finally, after his repeated cajoling got to be too much for her to take, Hermione said out loud so everyone could hear. “If certain people in this house don’t stop asking me what I’m going to get them,” she said, looking directly at Harry, “Father Christmas is going to deliver the proverbial lump of coal in their stocking…do I make myself clear?”

The room was silent for a good thirty seconds, and then Harry meekly answered “Yes, ma’am…”

“And, that reminds me. Don’t call me ma’am, Harry! It makes me feel so…old!” she said, winking at him. <Don’t worry, my love, I’m sure you won’t mind when you find out what I have planned for you. I must admit…this is one of the more difficult presents I’ve ever had to come up with.>

*

Finally, it was Christmas morning, and the eight of them sat down next to the tree, which was surrounded by presents from all of their families. Mrs. Weasley had thoughtfully provided personalized sweaters for all of them, including one in the Ravenclaw colors for Luna.

Ron was quite pleased by the broom compass Harry had given him, but not so much by Hermione’s homework planner. Harry’s presents were all the same as he remembered from before…up to and including the homework planner from Hermione –this time with a Revealer attached. <So, is THIS what you were trying to keep from me, Hermione? Honestly, I was hoping for better this time, especially since you knew I already knew about this present.>

<Honestly, Harry – you’re acting like a spoiled child…did you ever think that the present might be IN the planner, hmmm? No, don’t look now. After you go to bed, open the diary to September 19^th, and use the Revealer on the top of the page. Then you’ll find out about the rest of your present.> Harry thought for a second he could almost sense sadness in her tone, but she cheered up quickly as she spoke out loud. “Thanks, Harry, for the Numerology book! I’ve wanted it for ages.”

Luna, meanwhile, was admiring a bottle of perfume from Ron, while Ginny was gingerly holding a small mimbulus Mimbletonia plant from Neville. As Longbottom saw her expression, he looked quite upset. She smiled at him and said, “Don’t worry, Neville – I’m just a bit nervous holding it now that you’ve told me what it can do. Wouldn’t want stinksap all over the presents, now would we? Tell you what, why don’t you show me later how to take care of it?” He nodded cheerfully, and Ginny giggled happily at his change in attitude.

At the same time, Harry heard a gasp coming from Miss Puckle as she opened her present from Hermione. It was a card of some sort, bewitched so that only the addressee could read the message. As she read, Harmony’s eyes first grew wide, and then a tear formed on her cheek as she looked over at Hermione. “Oh, Miss Granger…thank you! You of all people know how much your present means to me!” she said, eyes glistening.

Sirius said, “What is it, Miss Puckle? What did Hermione give you?”

Harmony smiled slyly and said, “Never you mind about that, Saiph. It’s something quite personal that Miss Granger has given me, and I prefer to keep it that way. Oh, by the way, Hermione…this does change what I was going to give you. Don’t open your present yet…I’ve got something much better in mind for you now.”

After they finished consuming Dobby’s marvelous feast (Kreacher having already been dismissed by Sirius at Harry’s insistence as soon as he arrived at Grimmauld Place back in August) and playing a few traditional party games, Harmony, who had been sneaking glances at her watch all evening, announced that it was getting quite late and they had a long day ahead of them.

Ron was shocked. “What? It’s not even 9 o’clock yet! The evening’s still young! Surely you’re not going to make us work on Boxing Day, too? We’re not house elves, you know! OW! OW! OW!” At his inadvertent slip of the tongue, Ron had been hit soundly, first by Luna on one arm, then by Hermione on the other, while Dobby Apparated directly onto his feet and fell over on top of him. “Oh, I am so <hic> sorry, Mr. Wheezy…<hic> I thought I heard you call for me...<hic> and I had just had my traditional drink of Christmas <hic> butterbeer...does master wish <hic> me to help him with <hic> something?”

“No, that’s quite alright” he said, glaring at the witches on either side of him. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Have a good Christmas evening, Dobby.”

“Oh <hic> Thank you, sir<hic> you are as kind <hic> as the rest of Mr. Potter’s friends.” Somewhat unsteadily, he untangled himself from Ron’s feet, snapped his fingers, and Apparated back to his room.

Harmony, who was holding her hand over her face to keep from laughing out loud, finally answered Ron’s complaint. “Yes, Mr. Weasley – we are working on Boxing Day. However, if you promise not to disturb me tonight, and by that I mean NO one is out of bed after hours…and no one even comes NEAR my door, maybe we can wait until sometime tomorrow afternoon to resume our training. Do we have an agreement?” She looked quickly around the room and saw everyone’s head nodding gratefully. She also saw a sly wink from Hermione, which she just as slyly returned. “Yes, tonight is one night I really want to pass with no untoward interruptions.”

*

Soon thereafter, Harry sat quietly on his bed, his wand lit as he opened Hermione’s homework diary. He turned it quickly to September 19^th, which was already marked with Hermione’s birthday in her handwriting. “But, I already knew about that!” Harry muttered under his breath. “What’s she playing at? Oh, wait…she said to use this Revealer, didn’t she?”

He took out the eraser-like object from his pocket and rubbed it over the page. Slowly, more of Hermione’s distinctive handwriting appeared.

My dearest Harry, the note began. I know you were probably somewhat disappointed when you saw what you thought was my Christmas present for you. Harmony told me all about your experience with it last time. But, my love, there is more to it. The Revealer I gave you is also a portkey. Don’t worry – the headmaster himself was the one who created it for me, so it will work just fine. When you are ready to get your gift, just hold on to the Revealer and say “I’m ready.” When you get to where it takes you, you’ll find out more about my gift. By the way…I hope you aren’t in your pyjamas yet. It might be embarrassing.

With all my love,

Hermione

“Wha…what?” Harry said out loud in his empty room. “I’m supposed to take a portkey without knowing where I’m headed? One time I did that, I didn’t like the results all that much!” he said, remembering the trophy at the end of the Third Task maze. “But, I’m sure Hermione has something better in mind! Good thing I hadn’t gotten all the way ready for bed yet – I don’t usually wear pyjamas.” He grabbed the Revealer in one hand and his wand in the other, and said quietly, “I’m ready.”

After a VERY short trip, Harry found himself in a darkened room, but for some reason his wand would not light. He heard a sharp intake of breath coming from the corner, and said quickly, “Who’s there? Hermione, is that you? Come on, ‘Mione – stop playing games.”

As his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, he saw a familiar bushy-haired shadow in a chair by the corner. “Yes, Harry…it is me. Although, not necessarily the me you were expecting.” The witch waved her wand, and the room was bathed in the romantic glow of candles and his wand. He looked more closely at her and said, “Harmony! What are you doing here? What are you doing? You’re releasing your appearance charms…and it looks like you’ve gone off your age-changing potion for the evening, too! This…this was all Hermione’s idea, wasn’t it…this was her Christmas present to me?”

She sounded a bit upset as she answered, “Harry, it’s not always just about you, you know. This is Hermione’s present to me, too. I…I mean, she…sometimes surprises me with just how thoughtful she is,” she smiled happily. “Yes, Harry, her gift to me is a night alone with you…as my true self. And, before you get any ideas, remember that I know all about the restrictions that Albus discussed with you, and I fully support them. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company – just like you and Hermione did in the Room of Requirement earlier this year after she rescued you from your own mind. She felt very guilty that she has had so many chances over the years to spend some personal time with you that she felt she had to make it up to me somehow…even though it is really HER she is making it up to, now isn’t it?”

Harry smiled as he reviewed certain pleasant memories of his previous times with the younger Hermione. “So, Harmony, I assume that in exchange, you offered to make up some of that bond-numbing potion that Madam Pomfrey gave you that night?”

“Very good, Harry…you are getting to be pretty smart, you know. Must be the fact you are associating with TWO of the smartest witches to ever attend this school! There is one thing, though. Tonight, could you please call me Hermione…or even ‘Mione, if you prefer. I’ve wanted to hear you call me by my real name for so long that I can hardly stand it. Now, what was it that my younger self has told you on a few occasions?”

“Hmmm…can’t seem to recall anything like that, ‘Mione!” he said with a broad smile. “You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself if you’re so smart.”

As her brown eyes locked in on his shining green ones, she said with happy tears rolling down her face, “Oh, just shut up and kiss me, Harry!”

(A/N – So, there you have it…not a bad Christmas present for the two of them, eh? The rest of what happened that night I’ll leave to your own PG-13 rated imagination. Of course, I have no real way of knowing if you keep your imagination within those bounds, now do I? All I ask is that you keep your thoughts about their evening to yourself! *blush*.)

Chapter 46 – Hagrid and Grawp

(A/N – Well, thanks to a few comments I received, I decided to give you a bit of a glimpse as to some of what happened between Harry and Harmony (while she was back to being “herself”) on Christmas night…and then, some more plotting behind the scenes.)

“Miss Granger, may I come in?” said a familiar voice as he knocked on her bedroom door.

She looked up from her intense study of her new numerology book. “OH! Professor Dumbledore, sir! And Madam Pomfrey, too! What a pleasant surprise! I surely wasn’t expecting any visitors tonight. What brings you two out to Grimmauld Place on Christmas night– are you here to visit with Sirius?” Hermione asked quietly as she invited them in to her room.

As she walked in and removed her outer cloak, Poppy said briskly, “No, Miss Granger, we are not here to see Professor Boardman…or any one else for that matter. To tell the truth, we have come here to check on you…and make sure the potion you took is working properly. First things first – do you still have some of the elixir left? I just want to check that it is of the proper potency.”

Hermione pointed the healer to a small cauldron on her nightstand. “There’s the last of it – Miss Puckle and I were very careful to follow your instructions, including calculating the proper dosage that I would need to last the night.”

Pomfrey was unable to hide her disbelief, since she was of the opinion that she was the only one qualified to make healing potions of this nature <Well, except for possibly Severus> she grudgingly admitted, <but he’s not here, is he?> so she carefully ran a series of complicated tests on the sample that remained. Finally, she looked appraisingly at Hermione and slowly nodded her head. “Well, you could have used a little less knotgrass…makes the taste a bit less harsh, I have found…but, as I said to you once, you’d make a great Healer some day, Miss Granger. You seem to have the knack for it – if this potion is any indication. But, the proof is in the pudding, as the Muggles say. How is it working? Can you feel…well, anything over the bond?

Hermione looked up with glistening eyes. “Well….no, not really…at first, I thought I could still sense him…but now, it’s as if he’s not there anymore…” and then, before they could say anything, Hermione let out a sob and covered her face with her shaking hands…”AND I CAN’T STAND IT!” she admitted, wailing loudly.

Poppy immediately grabbed her up in a motherly hug and talked to her soothingly. “There, there, Hermione…you did a brave and noble thing tonight, you know…sharing your soul-mate with someone else…even if that someone else is you! I can’t imagine how hard this would be…wondering what’s going on between them…”

Hermione interrupted, trying to talk while choking back more tears. “No, no…you’ve got it all wrong. I trust Harry…and myself, to not do anything that could weaken his magical powers, or else I would have never considered giving the gift I did. Besides, I already know exactly what they’re doing – it’s the same thing that Harry and I did in the Room of Requirement. Yes, we had a bit of a snogfest at first, I admit,” she said, blushing at the memory, “but we spent most of our time there just cuddling by the fire…talking. It was the most wonderful thing – to just sit and talk to Harry about anything and everything…feeling his arms around me, feeling…well, safe… No, that’s not what’s bothering me!”

“Well, what is it, child?” Poppy said with surprise as she continued to pat the distraught young woman on the back. “Albus, you’d better leave – this may turn into ‘girl talk about men’ and I know that you’d prefer I handle that.”

“No…that’s okay…he can stay. It’s nothing like that, either,” she said as she dabbed at her eyes, “It’s just …I’m just so …LONELY”

Dumbledore’s mustache started to twitch. “Ah, I see, Miss Granger. You miss his presence in your mind, do you?”

“Uhhhh huhhh…” she said, sniffling loudly. “I…I’ve gotten so…used to feeling him there already, it’s almost like he’s…he’s…DEAD!” and she burst into tears again.

“There, there, Miss Granger… Harry’s quite all right.” Albus said soothingly as he quickly glanced at his pocket watch. “My, look at the time! I do believe that if we go down to the kitchen, Sirius may have finished a batch of some of his wonderful eggnog for us. He promised me that this time he would make it with butterbeer instead of Old Ogden’s, so come down and join us, Hermione. It might help you fill in that emptiness in your mind if you’re around friends. Soon, it will be Boxing Day, and you’ll have him back in your mind again.”

*****

“WORMTAIL!”

“Y….yes, master?”

“Where is Macnair’s report? Surely he has returned from his meeting with the giants? Clever idea he had to use the cover of trying to capture a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.”

“I…I…well…he …he hasn’t delivered the report…or returned, for that matter. He hasn’t been seen at the Ministry for weeks now.”

“WHAT? He should have been back by now… I want a full report by tomorrow.”

“Er…Master?”

“What is it now?” Voldemort said, sounding quite annoyed.

“Well, there has been…a report…” Pettigrew said; wincing as he realized what was coming.

“Where did this report come from?”

“The Ministry sent someone to investigate when Macnair failed to return. After what happened because they didn’t check on the last Ministry employee to turn up missing, an Auror team is always dispatched to follow up. It was Weasley’s suggestion, actually.”

“First intelligent idea I’ve ever heard come from that family. Never mind that. Do you have anything to report, or don’t you? Tell me what you know or I’ll have to bring Nagini in to play with you for a while.”

“Well…that’s the problem, my lord. The team returned from the mountains empty-handed…except for what are thought to be the remains of Macnair’s robes…and they look like they had been chewed up and spit out by a giant.”

“What about the rest of the team? What happened to them?” Voldemort said, sounding more and more agitated.

“All they found was random bits of clothing…and a few bone fragments with teeth marks on them. Nothing even vaguely identifiable except for the robes. “Could have been anything,” the public report said. The confidential addendum also reported that giant spoor was also noted in the area, and it looked like there had been a battle between two factions. One giant’s head was recovered from the lake, but it wasn’t Karkus’s. From the description, it was Golgomath – remember, the one that we were trying to recruit?”

“Of COURSE I remember, you fool…why do you think I sent Macnair there in the first place!” Voldemort began to pace, deep in thought. “Someone must have known what we were planning. Either we have a spy in our ranks, or there is someone who has …shall we say, advance knowledge of things? I have been suspicious ever since that toady Umbridge was so quickly removed from Hogwarts. Even though she’s not one of us yet, she would have been a useful tool in demoralizing young Mr. Potter if she had been left in her position. Once again, I sense that someone is interfering with our master plan, and Mr. Potter and his mudblood wench top the suspect list, along with that young Canadian witch that works with Flitwick…what was her name? The one that we haven’t been able to find anything about?”

“Oh, you must mean Miss Puckle. Mr. Malfoy has kept us informed about her, and she seems to be just another mudblood who wants to share our magic with other mudbloods. If I may be so bold, what about the Headmaster? Wouldn’t he be the more likely one?” Peter asked cautiously.

“Foolish idiot, Wormtail! I know Albus well enough to understand he would NEVER interfere with events of this nature – he’s too much a believer in maintaining the status quo, even when it is obvious the status quo has been interfered with already. That is one of his weaknesses – what does he call it…that “love” (whatever that is) he says he feels for others keeps him from taking risks. He’s a fool, too. The only thing that matters is power – until he learns that, we have the upper hand.”

“But master, won’t the loss of Macnair’s team change our plans to recover the prophecy?”

“You let me worry about that, you pathetic idiot. I always have backup plans.”

*****

During their “private” discussions on Christmas night, Harry and Harmony had decided (before they retired to their own rooms about midnight) that for the rest of the holiday, they would include Hermione in their evening conversations instead of having to continue to produce batches of bond-numbing potion. The next morning, as the three of them ate a private breakfast (everyone else was still sleeping in) they presented this idea to Hermione and she was happy to go along with it. <Besides, my love,> she thought to Harry, <I don’t know if I could stand it without you in my mind any more.>

Harmony chimed in, <That goes for me, too, Harry…as nice as it was to have you to myself last evening, I don’t know that I would be too thrilled about having to ‘switch you off’ every other night for the rest of the holidays. We’ll just have to keep our activities limited to ‘conversation only’ in the kitchen…if you and one of us kept on disappearing for long periods of time each evening, someone’s bound to get suspicious. Besides, I think you’ve had your fill of snogging for a while, wouldn’t you say so, Harry?>

Harry started to protest, but then he saw both of them wink at him from across the table and he knew he was being played with. <Very funny, you two…well, if that’s the way you both feel about it, how about one last kiss from each of you before anyone else comes down here? And, for a little privacy, why don’t you meet me in the broom closet in a minute? One at a time, of course!>. So, first Hermione, and then Harmony, gladly took him up on his offer. Saiph was coming down the stairs soon after Harmony and Harry left the closet, and after looking at their three faces, immediately wanted to call Madam Pomfrey in to cure them of whatever fever that was making them so flushed. “Never can be too careful, you know…can’t have the three of you getting sick. Hopefully there’s nothing going around. We’ve got lots of training left before school starts.”

*

After completing their rigorous three-week training course over the holidays, the six students were quite excited for the chance to return to Hogwarts and pass on their knowledge to the rest of the DA. Harry was also glad that this time, at least, he wouldn’t have to face Occlumency lesson. <I sure don’t want to go through that again!> he thought. Instead, Albus agreed to help fine-tune his control skills, this time with a less confrontational teaching method than Severus had used on him.

Even though Harry and Harmony had warned Albus of the impending breakout from Azkaban, they decided that there was not much that could be done – the dementors had already agreed to look the other way so the Death Eaters could escape, and any warnings would be unheeded. When the breakout was finally announced in the Daily Prophet, there was quite an uproar at Hogwarts, with students of all houses and years spreading rumors and speculation about how Azkaban could have been compromised. The most noticeable effect, however, was at the first DA meeting of the new term – the line of students from all four houses that wished to join went around the Entrance hall and out the front doors onto the grounds a full hour before the meeting was scheduled to start

Harry and Hermione took a quick peek through the doors to the Great Hall at the ever-growing crowd and shook their heads in astonishment. “What are we going to do now, Hermione?” Harry said worriedly. “There is no way we can get that many students into here and do much more than feed them. We need a bigger place for training…and there is no way I can teach all these people by myself.”

Hermione smiled at her boyfriend as she shook her head. “Harry, there you go, thinking like a man! You’re trying to solve everyone’s problems all by yourself. Who says YOU have to teach everyone all the time? Weren’t there six of us taking the training over the holidays? As to where, well, why don’t we see just HOW accommodating the Room of Requirement can be? We can keep a group here with Harmony, and send the rest upstairs with Professor Boardman. Then the six of us in pairs will work both rooms, focusing on our areas of specialty as we work with individuals and groups.”

Harry nodded in amazement as he realized how obvious her solution was. The two of them called a quick meeting of the six students and the two teachers, at which they gladly accepted Hermione’s plan. “Neville, why don’t you and Ginny take the younger students in the Great Hall this time,” “while Harry and I can take the more advanced class upstairs. Ron, how about you and Luna serving as “rovers” today – you can help out in both sections as needed. Then, next week, we rotate assignments.”

Harry gave his girlfriend a hug and said “Thanks, ‘Mione…I’m glad one of us is thinking, anyway! How come a smart girl like you is hanging out with someone like me?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Harry…I always thought that was the smartest thing I’ve done here,” she said, winking at him cheekily, before she opened the doors to the Hall. “Okay, people, Second, Third, and Fourth year students come in here, and Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Years, follow Harry. Come on, move it, everyone!”

*******

The new training schedule worked amazingly well over the remainder of the school year. From time to time, Harry would just sit back and reflect on how much happier he was as he repeated his fifth year with no major incidents or blow-ups. Of course, he realized, there were a number of good reasons why this was so, with no Umbridge to bother him, no Snape to antagonize him, and no Voldemort invading his thoughts with dreams of the Department of Mysteries. About the only concern he had was for Hagrid. Soon after he had told them about what had happened with Golgomath in the mountains, he disappeared without warning for a fortnight. When he returned, he looked like he had been run over by a (very large) truck, but he seemed to be quite happy about it. Harry and Harmony, of course, knew exactly what was going on; but agreed to keep his secret for now until he was willing to share it with Hermione. She was quite concerned whenever she would see her giant friend with a fresh injury from time to time; but, as a good healer should, she kept her probing questions to a minimum as she would help him apply a fresh dragon steak to his eye or make up another batch of healing draught.

There was one other incident that was both the same, and different, than his memories of the earlier fifth year. He had been wondering if he would meet up with Firenze this year, because without Umbridge around, Trelawney’s position was safe. So, he was quite pleasantly surprised to see his friend the centaur show up on March 8th, right on schedule; this time being introduced as an assistant divination professor, whose courses would focus on the “grand scale” predictions common to his people in contrast to Sibyll’s “local scale” work. As he thought about this, he was saddened to realize that this meant the rift among the centaurs was still in play this time around.

Finally, the last weekend in May was here - the day of the final Quidditch match of the year. Gryffindor was fielding a much improved Ron at Keeper, with Ginny as Seeker and Fred and George as Beaters. Harry smiled as he saw them take to the air against Ravenclaw, the four redheads flying together in a diamond attack formation. Ginny, flying his Firebolt as a special favor, was in the lead; the twins were next, followed by Ron on his Cleansweep, leading the three chasers out of the locker room. <Another reason I’m glad the Hag was banished this time! Gave the twins a chance to participate in one more season before they move on to their joke shop business. Although, I sometimes wish I could have seen a repeat of their masterful escape last time!>, he thought to Harmony wistfully. She responded immediately from her seat in the staff tower, <Well, that IS one of the memories that I placed in the Pensieve…you could probably ask Albus if you can review that day’s events from my viewpoint. Tell him it is fine with me – I’m quite used to having you share my thoughts, you know!>

He and Hermione were just settling in to watch the match when he heard a familiar, but very happy, voice. “Harry…Hermione…Listen, can yeh come with me? Now? While ev’ryone’s watchin’ the match?”

Although he already knew the answer, Harry was still a bit exasperated as he knew he was going to miss the match again… “Er…can’t it wait, Hagrid?” he asked over his shoulder, continuing to watch the team warm up. “Till the match is over?”

“No,” said Hagrid. “No, Harry, it’s gotta be now…while ev’ryone’s lookin’ the other way…Please?”

Harry turned around and was surprised to see that Hagrid was not injured in the least this time – no bloody nose, no black eyes, and no scars. Harry had not seen him in this good of a mood for months; he looked quite pleased with himself.

“Course,” said Harry at once, “’course we’ll come…” He didn’t have to even check with his girlfriend as he stood up – he knew without a doubt she was right behind him.

He and Hermione edged back along their row of seats, causing much grumbling among the students who had to stand up for them. The people in Hagrid’s row were not complaining, merely attempting to make themselves as small as possible.

“I ‘ppreciate this, you two, I really do,” said Hagrid as they reached the stairs. He was beaming as they descended toward the lawn below. “I jus’ hope you’ll like my surprise.”

“What is it, Hagrid?” said Hermione, looking up at him with a curious expression on her face as they hurried across the lawn toward the edge of the forest.

“Yeh – yeh’ll see in a mo’,” said Hagrid, looking over his shoulder as a great roar rose from the stands behind them. “Hey – did someone jus’ score?”

“Sounds like it…wonder how Ron’s doing?” Harry said. <Wait…I know how to find out. Harmony, what just happened?>

<Oh…it was amazing – Ron just had a wicked save…score’s still tied. By the way, Harry – say hi to Grawp for me. I saw you leaving with Hagrid just now. Take care of my younger self for me, okay? Remember what happened last time! Do you want me to keep you up to date on the match while you’re traveling? Or would it be too much of a distraction?>

Harry was definitely conflicted for a moment, but finally he said, <Better not…it would be too hard to explain when we got back if I already knew the details. But make sure you are keeping a good memory of this. I’ll want to see a replay of THIS match in the Pensieve for sure.>

They had to jog to keep up with Hagrid as he strode across the lawn…

*****

“Hagrid, would it be all right if we lit our wands?” said Hermione quietly as they drove deeper into the dark forest.

“Er…all righ’,” Hagrid whispered back. “In fact…”

He stopped suddenly and turned around; Hermione walked right into him and was knocked over backward. Harry, already expecting this to happen, caught her well before she hit the ground. While they continued to walk, she followed up through their private link. <Thanks, Harry…how’d you know that he was going to do that? Do you know what’s going on here?>

<Patience, my love…you’ll see soon. Just promise me you won’t sit on any large mossy boulders until I give you the okay!>

<Mossy …what? Harry, you’re not making any sense.> she chided, but she realized that Harry was not going to say any more on the subject and resignedly kept walking.

Finally, they reached a small clearing, in which they faced a large, smooth mound of earth nearly as tall as Hagrid.

“Okay, Hagrid…why have you brought us here?” Hermione said as she immediately recognized what she was looking at.

“Well…Albus has asked me to do some work for the Order that means I won’t be around the rest of the term, and…I need someone t’ look ou’ for my half-brother. He’s sleepin’ now…but he’s not too bad onc’t you get to know ‘im. At firs’ he was a bi’ of a han’ful, but he’s calmed down a lot lately.”

“So, this is why you were so beat up earlier in the year.” Hermione said. “I assume you found him when you were on your expedition with Madame Maxime?”

“Yeah…tha’s righ’…took him a while to make it here, though…not too easy to sneak around Europe wi’ someone Grawp’s size. I had to leave him for a while in a safe place when I came to repor’ to Dumbledore abou’ wha’ had ‘appened wi’ Macnair that day you talked to me, then I wen’ back for him the next day. Anyway, here he is.”

“Grawp?” said Hermione.

“Yeah …well, tha’s what it sounds like when he says his name,” said Hagrid anxiously. “He’s gettin’ to know a fair amount of English now that he’s calmed down. At firs’ he didn’t take to his lessons too well, but I got through t’ him. Jus’ had to have a bit of a firm hand wi’ him. When he saw I was serious, he gave in. Well, better now than never – mus’ be time to wake him up an’ introduce you.”

“Wha – no!” said Hermione, jumping up, “Hagrid, no, don’t wake him, really, we don’t need - ”

But Hagrid had already stepped over the great trunk in front of them and was proceeding toward Grawp. When he was around ten feet away, he lifted a long, broken bough from the ground, smiled reassuringly over his shoulder at Harry and Hermione, and then poked Grawp hard in the middle of the back with the end of the bough.

The giant gave a roar that echoed around the silent forest. Birds in the treetops overhead rose twittering from their perches and soared away. In front of Harry and Hermione, meanwhile, the gigantic Grawp was rising from the ground, which shuddered as he placed an enormous hand upon it to push himself onto his knees and turned his head to see who and what had disturbed him.

“All righ’, Grawpy?” said Hagrid in an honestly cheery voice. “Had a nice sleep, eh?”

“Hagger…zat u?” the young giant said. “Who them?” he grunted, pointing at Harry and Hermione.

“Grawp, this is Harry…and his friend Hermione. They’re the ones I told you abou’…he’s the one tha’ warned me about Golgomath, remember?”

“Oooh…Golgomath bad giant…hit me lots. Beat me up. Cal’d me names…don’ like Golgomath!” Grawp said, shaking his head ruefully. “ ‘arry warn Hagger? Golgomath dead now! ‘arry Grawp’s fren…save Grawp life!”

If Harry hadn’t been there, he never would have believed what happened next. Grawp, all sixteen feet of him, bowed politely and smiled, showing his huge yellow teeth. “Grawp help ‘arry…and pretty Hermy…all time.”

“Well, I reckon tha’s enough fer one day,” said Hagrid, a huge smile on his face. We’ll go back now, shall we? Don’ wan’ to press our luck, y’ know.”

Harry and Hermione nodded. Hagrid shouldered his crossbow again and led the way back into the trees.

*****

“HARRY! HERMIONE!” yelled Ron, waving the silver Quidditch Cup in the air and looking quite beside himself. “WE DID IT! WE WON!

They beamed up at him as he passed; there was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron’s head got rather badly bumped on the lintel, but nobody seemed to want to put him down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the entrance hall and out of sight. Harry and Hermione watched them go, beaming, until the last echoing strains of “Weasley is Our King” died away. Then they turned to each other, their smiles fading.

“We’ll save our news till tomorrow, shall we?” said Harry.

“Yes, all right,” said Hermione wearily. “I’m not in any hurry…”

*****

(A/N – First, a shameless plug –please read my daughter’s story, The Wish List. I think it is a great story.

Fair warning #1 – If you haven’t read it already, be prepared - some scenes in TWL made me cry. Happy tears, but tears nonetheless, and I’m not embarrassed at all to say that! She is really making me proud…I am amazed with what she comes up with sometimes. Also, check out her other stories while you’re there.

I normally don’t do this, but I have TWO more shameless plugs that I have to add. I would recommend checking out Journey to Solace. Luna has a different style of writing, but I like it – at the time of this final posting, she had not updated it for a while, so leave a review and maybe she will feel inspired to finish it off. And, finally, for those of you who are musicians, music lovers, or you just want an emotional experience when it comes to H/Hr “moments”, PLEASE go immediately to read this story - Finding the Muse -and leave a review.

Fair warning number # 2 – Remember at the beginning of Chapter 45 I said something about “the calm before the storm”? Well, that storm is coming in the next chapter. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!)

Chapter 47 – The Department of Mysteries

(A/N – Two follow-ups from the last chapter. First, a few people wanted to know what happened to Snape because of my comment that this time around, Harry didn’t have “Snape to antagonize him.” What I meant was that this time around, Harry didn’t have to take Occlumency lessons because he could remember them from last time. Sorry if that wasn’t clear.

Second, some reviewers wondered why Grawp was so much better with English this time around. Well, as I explained in a few replies, I was thinking that with no Dolores around to upset Hagrid, he would have more time to spend with his “Grawpy”…and that would lead to quicker progress towards the nicer Grawp JKR has mentioned will be in HBP. “By the next book, Grawp is a little bit more controllable. I think you got a clue to that at the end of Phoenix, because Grawp was starting to speak and to be a little bit more amenable to human contact.” - J K Rowling at the Edinburgh Book Festival 15 Aug 2004.

Please remember this is an alternate timeline, so some of Tom Riddle’s thinking may be a little OOC from what you expect.)

“WORMTAIL! Why is it that you are never around when I need you?

“S…sorry, master…I was…”

“What have I told you about your pitiful excuses? Never mind, I will deal with that later. Now, could you go over once again what Rookwood said about removing the prophecy? I think I may have discovered a way to obtain it, finally, WITHOUT Harry Potter’s help.”

“Let me see…here’s the notes from that meeting, master….hmmm…here it is! Rookwood’s exact words are, “The only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries are those about whom it was made.”

“That is what I remembered, too…well, as I suspected, there is only one solution left since we have been unsuccessful at luring Mr. Potter to the Department. I would have preferred to have him do the retrieving for me, but it appears that I will have to recover the prophecy myself. I am one of the people included in the engraving, so I can do so safely.”

“But, my Lord – what about all the Aurors? What about all the people at the ministry who seek your destruction?”

“Do you HONESTLY think that I cannot take care of a few measly Aurors and Ministry personnel? Remember, I am the greatest wizard of the age! Yes, it will be more difficult and risky this way, but I have no choice. Now, hold out your arm – I need to summon my supporters!”

*****

“Are you sure, Poppy? Nothing more can be done?”

“Yes…after reviewing the data I obtained from my last check, there is no doubt in my mind, sir. You must act soon – preferably today, or else it may be too late. We knew all along this was likely to happen. The potions and spells we have been using these last few weeks have become less and less effective.”

“Does she know?”

“Of course…she’s the one that asked me to verify her diagnosis based on her observations. Quite the clever witch, that one…”

****

“Harry…Hermione…Harmony…it is time.” Albus Dumbledore said as he addressed the younger group of visitors in his office. Minerva’s face went ashen and she gasped as she heard his words, but then she nodded sadly, as did Madam Pomfrey.

“Time? Time for what, sir?” Harry asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Harmony, who, Harry finally noticed, wasn’t looking her normal self, was the first to speak. “Harry…look at what day it is…Remember what happened last time? It’s Thursday, you know…at the end of term.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he remembered that fateful day in the original timeline. “Tonight is the night that…Sirius died…and Hermione was nearly killed. Well, obviously that’s not going to happen this time, is it? I mean, we all know what the prophecy says, so there’s no reason to recover it this time…and it’s perfectly safe. Now all we have to do is stay away from the Ministry tonight and tomorrow, and nothing bad will happen to any of us! Doesn’t seem too hard, now does it?”

“Actually, Mr. Potter, I have brought you all here to transport you to the Department this very hour.”

“WHAT?” Harry shouted in amazement. “Begging your pardon, sir, but that has GOT to be the wildest idea I’ve heard around here. The further away from London I am tonight, the better…that’s what I think! Why would we even consider going today, when we know what happened last time?”

And then, he heard something he wasn’t expecting…from someone he didn’t expect. “Because I am dying, Harry…”

“Dying? Harmony…what do you mean? You can’t be dying! I don’t believe you!” Harry said firmly, but immediately he could feel inside that he was being told the truth…especially when he remembered a conversation from the beginning of fifth year.

Harmony grinned, and turned to Madam Pomfrey. “How about it, Poppy – you explained it quite well to me last year, do you care to give it another go?”

“Certainly, my dear!” the healer replied happily. “First, a bit of background on the nature of time. Time can be considered to be like a large piece of flexible steel. Meddling of the nature we are talking about can bend that steel out of its natural shape. If the bending force is removed quickly, the steel will tend to restore itself to the way it was. Since we talked last, Harmony, Albus and I have had a few interesting discussions on what must have happened, and we have come up with the following sequence of events. When first, Harry, then Hermione came back in time as Harmony; this created a time loop – an alternate reality, if you will, from the original time line. And, before you ask, Miss Granger, don’t even start trying to analyze the implications of that statement – that way lies madness. We have to go on the assumption that the time loop that was originally created with Harry’s forced travel IS the same one that Harmony came into, and her intervention during first year to save your life was the key to disrupting Tom Riddle’s original plan. (Harry was surprised to notice that Poppy had no problem referring to Voldemort by his “Muggle” name.) As far as we can tell, Hermione’s death at the hands of a troll during the first year of the time loop was the key reason that Harry turned completely dark. We can only assume without her influence, he was easily seduced by Tom’s supporters and joined forces with him, possibly as early as his second year when he met a fully restored Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets after the death of Ginny Weasley. Her death, along with Miss Granger’s the year before, would have most certainly resulted in Albus’s dismissal as Headmaster,, the closing of Hogwarts, and eventually the deaths of many wizards and witches, both Muggle-born and pureblood alike. From Harmony’s report of what her neighborhood was like at the time she left, apparently within 3 years the battle had spread to the Muggle world.

“Well, that’s all interesting theory and background,” Harry said impatiently, “but what does that have to do with the solution to the ‘two Hermione’ problem?”

Poppy grinned knowingly. “Well, the thing is, Harry, Hermione…the problem you describe doesn’t exist, now does it? And, if you think about it, you have already seen how this will work out. Remember, you’ve both experienced this already.”

Anyone looking at Hermione could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she contemplated this surprising statement. Then, slowly, a grin came across her face…”Of course…third year, when we went back to rescue Buckbeak and Sirius. Remember, Harry, when we time-turned, we SAW ourselves…there was, effectively, TWO of each of us for that time…well, of you, anyway. There was actually THREE of me whenever I used the time turner that year, weren’t there? Wow…that’s confusing, even for me.”

Minerva smiled and said, “I have found over the years that perhaps a picture would help…” as she waved her wand, causing a blackboard and chalk to appear. Using her wand expertly, Minerva used the chalk to sketched out a series of loops and parallel lines representing the events of the evening of 9 June during their third year, showing how both Harry and Hermione appeared to be two people to an outside observer, but were actually the same person at different points in their life-continuum. “Do you follow that, Hermione?”

“Yes, Professor, that makes sense.”

“Well, then, just think of this drawing representing many years instead of a few hours and you get the general picture of how both you AND Harmony are really only one person…albeit with a LOT of extra hours under your belt. Of course, this can have some long-range health effects on the person involved, especially if there is a soul-bond involved, but we can worry about that when the time comes.

“Now, let’s talk about Harry,” she continued. “The difference with him is that the time reverser chamber that sent him here adds a different aspect to time travel. As some of you may remember from the hummingbird display in the Department of Mysteries it actually regresses the subject’s physical body back to an earlier point in the continuum without creating another one of him. Normally, this would result in Harry retaining his memories. Bellatrix was supposed to compensate for this by using a mind-wipe (one that was more powerful even than the one Harmony used on Lockhart a few years ago) before she sent Harry back to start the time-loop with the chamber’s time-turner capabilities. However, from Harmony’s testimony, it appears that she was unable to keep from using multiple Cruciatus Curses on Harry. (He nodded wryly as he, too, remembered the pain from those spells.) To make a long story short, this is why Harry has been having memory flashes these many years – the mind-wipe never took full effect. So, the result of all of this,” she said quickly as she realized Harry’s eyes were starting to glaze over, “is that we have only one Hermione Granger here now – the two of you only differ by where you are at on your life continuum,” she said as she pointed to the chart, “and a time-regressed Harry with a lot of extra memories resulting from two ‘trips’ through his time at Hogwarts. Another fact you may pick up from this, related to your concerns about your relationship with Hermione, is that there really is no problem. When you were… well, snogging Miss Puckle just now, you were in all actuality just kissing Hermione – at a different part of her life. Of course, I realize it is not that simple when it comes to everyone’s emotions, but…”

“Once again, this is all fascinating, I’m sure,” Harry cut her off as he rolled his eyes, “but what are we to DO about it? Sorry, but I still see TWO Hermione’s in front of me. While I realize that I should probably just keep my mouth shut and thank my lucky stars when I consider the possibilities,” he said with a sly wink as he pretended to duck the glares coming from two sets of perfectly matched brown eyes, “I would only like there to be one version of Hermione Granger’s physical form with me, back in the original timeline Is this possible?”

Poppy took up the lecture at this point. “Well, of course it is…do you think that a situation like this has never happened before? Healers have had to deal with this paradox for as long as wizard-kind has known about the time-reverser effect and the time-turner effect. That’s why I was able to explain it to you so well. Although I must admit, this is the longest, most complicated time-loop I’ve ever heard of. Unfortunately, the solution that exists is of no use to you at present. The ‘three’ of you need to wait until nearer the subjective time when this all started to attempt to restore things the way you desire. At the proper time and place, Albus will let you know exactly what you need to do and where you need to go. Listen to him then, and just trust us, all of you. It will work out for the best…you’ll see.

“Are you sure about that, Poppy?” Harry said, scratching his head after Pomfrey finished her explanation. “I’d ask you to run that by me one more time, but I doubt that it would do much good.”

“You…you’re dying?” Harry couldn’t believe what Harmony had just said. “Why? Is there anything I can do about it?”

“Sadly to say, Harry – and please don’t take this badly, but you are at least partially the cause of it.” Poppy said. “Harmony, you could repeat to him what we discussed when I first examined you in Hogsmeade at the beginning of his fourth year.”

“Yes, that’s best…Harry, here’s the problem in a nutshell.” And then she showed him her memories from the examination. <It’s simple…you’re still deeply in love with Harry Potter, and since you can’t do anything about it, it’s literally tearing you apart.>

“But…but we HAVE done something about it…at Christmas, remember?” Hermione said tearfully. “That’s one of the reasons I gave Harmony the present I did- I’ve read about soul-bonds, of course, as soon as I found out they existed, and I knew that if they are interfered with, it can cause great harm to everyone involved. I figured out that Harmony has been deliberately suppressing the bond for many years now – with a few notable exceptions, so I knew she needed some time alone with Harry.”

Albus smiled kindly at Hermione. “And, my dear, that is the main reason why we didn’t have this conversation much earlier in the year. Don’t fret, Hermione – your sacrifice that night did nothing but help Harmony’s situation.”

Poppy interrupted, “But, even with all that we have done, we have finally reached the limits of what can be done for her. The three of you need to travel with the Headmaster to the Department of Mysteries. As I said earlier, he’ll tell you what to do when you get there.”

“But, for us to get there,” Albus said as he rose from his chair, “we will first have to leave here. Harmony and Harry, normally I would suggest that we take the thestrals as you did last time you made this journey, but with Miss Puckle’s rapidly deteriorating condition, I would prefer that we use a portkey.” He held up a large parchment scroll which was labeled “Ministry of Magic” as he said, “Here, everyone grab on to a corner. This will take us directly to the Ministry’s street entrance.”

***

As they descended to the Atrium, Harry’s memories of a previous trip to the Ministry started to play in his mind. This was even truer when they stopped moving and the door to the telephone box opened up. “Headmaster…why is there no one on duty today? Shouldn’t a guard be present at the security desk, at least? As someone once said, I’m getting a bad feeling about this…”

“You are correct, Harry. There should always be a guard on duty. So, I recommend we follow Alastair’s motto – Constant Vigilance! Wands out, then…and be ready for anything. Harmony, are you still with us? Do you need to rest a moment?”

“No, sir…I’ll be fine for now…but it is best if we keep moving.” She slumped tiredly between Hermione and Harry who were now taking on most of her weight as they walked.

It didn’t take them too long to travel to the lift, which they rode down to the 9^th floor and the Department of Mysteries. As they started to walk down the poorly-lit, bare corridor towards a plain black door, they heard a snake-like voice that would forever be part of Harry’s nightmares.

“Well, well…Mr. Potter…and Albus, too…with a few friends of yours for good measure! What a pleasant surprise! And I thought I was going to have to do this all myself. Lucius, Bellatrix, Antonin, surely between the three of you, you can take care of the two mudbloods…I’ll handle the headmaster myself…and then we’ll take Mr. Potter down to the prophecy room. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t already know the way!”

“Not this time, Tom Riddle!” Harry yelled as he dragged Harmony back up the corridor and behind a desk while Albus protected Hermione as she found shelter by the lift. Almost immediately, the room was soon filled with bright flashes of color as the two sides began to exchange spells in the narrow space.

“Watch out, Harmony!” Hermione yelled from across the way as a bright purple spell flew close by her ear. “That was close…I’ve never seen a curse like that before.”

<Be grateful for small favors, Hermione…the last time I got hit by that spell, I was very lucky to come out alive.> Harmony said through the bond. <Harry, I have an idea…can you see where Dolohov is? He must have seen me just now! I just wish I could distract…>

Harry interrupted, <Hermione, you’re next to Dumbledore, right? Could you ask him if he has any ideas as to how we’re going to get out of here?>

<Hang on…I’ll ask> There was a long pause, and then <Yes, Harry, he does…but for it to work, we all need to be together. You’re going to have to figure out some way to get Harmony over to us, and then he says we will be able to continue our journey to the Time Room. Harmony, do you think you can make it across the hall?>

<No time like the present to find out!> But, with Harry’s “NO!” sounding loudly in her ears, she was hit squarely in the chest by three different purple- hued spells as soon as she stood up. At the sight of her older form being cut down, Hermione shrieked, revealing her location. Immediately, she was hit by a single, powerful curse. Harry grabbed Harmony’s robes instinctively and dragged her towards Albus’s location while casting a series of shield charms that he had learned during his DADA training that year. When he got there, he saw the Headmaster perform an intricate wand movement, and a shimmering shield formed in the passageway, effectively blocking off the Death Eater team from further attacks. As he stopped to catch his breath from the effort of dragging his charms professor, he saw the headmaster kneeling over Hermione’s limp form.

After determining that Hermione still had a weak but steady pulse even though she was unconscious, he next knelt by Harmony’s nearly lifeless body and could barely detect a random beat every now and then. Then Harry heard Albus say in a quiet, sad voice, “Harry…we must take Harmony and Hermione to the time room while the shield charms I placed on the hallway continue to hold. Quickly now!” Albus said, as he headed towards the black door after casting a levitation charm on Miss Puckle while Harry did the same for Hermione.

As they traveled through the circular room towards the Time Room, (Albus, of course, knew which of the twelve doors to take already) Harry’s rage boiled over. “WHY? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THAT THIS COULD HAPPEN? WHY ARE BOTH HARMONY AND HERMIONE DYING? IT NEVER HAPPENED THIS WAY LAST TIME!

Dumbledore opened the door to the time room and answered quietly, “Harry, please calm down…my ears are quite functional, thank you. I hope you don’t mind, but I prefer we complete some pressing tasks first, and then there will be time to answer your questions after this process is finished. As they maneuvered the two young women into the room and Dumbledore sealed the door behind them with a wave of his hand, he continued to speak. “Please, Harry, do what I ask right now without question and I promise you things will work out in the end. See that rope over there? You need to start pulling on it as fast as you can.” As Harry automatically reached toward his pocket, Albus held up his hand. “No, don’t use your wand, Harry - this is a time chamber and sometimes simple wand spells by less-experienced wizards can cause ripples in time that cause unforeseen consequences. This is a very sensitive procedure with little variance allowed.” Harry grabbed the rope (which, he saw, was attached to a complicated lifting mechanism with numerous pulleys) and started pulling, slowly at first, but with increasing speed as he warmed to the task. He saw a large granite lid, engraved with unfamiliar runes and other symbols, starting to rise from the marble slab in the center of the room. <Hmmm…I don’t remember seeing that in here last time I was here. Maybe it only appears when it is needed.>

Albus continued to give instructions. “Very good, Harry – just a little bit more…good. Tie it off there and help me get our subjects situated on the device.”

As he levitated first Harmony, then Hermione on to the slab, their bodies aligned as close as possible with Harry’s assistance, Albus could sense Harry’s unvoiced query. “Patience, Harry…in a moment, either we will have all the time in the world to talk, or else it won’t matter much what we say. First, I’ll take their wands and put them in this compartment – if this works out, in a few minutes there should only be one of them. Now, I need you to release the rope and lower the lid back down…quickly, but carefully. If the device were to be damaged now, all would be lost.”

As the lid settled into a tight groove in the otherwise smooth top, Harry noticed a series of brass latches that were obviously meant to secure the …well, sarcophagus was the only word that came to mind. “Headmaster, I assume I need to seal these?”

“Yes, that’s correct…but be ready – when the last one is engaged, the joining process will start immediately. Here, I’ll work on this side and the foot of the lid, and you can do the other side and the head.”

As Harry bent to his task, he came face to face with a rune he did recognize…because he saw it every time he looked in a mirror. “Sir…why is my curse-scar engraved here?”

“Harry, didn’t Hermione ever tell you anything about what your scar-rune represents? I’m sure she recognized it soon after she started taking Ancient Runes.” Albus said with a smile while he continued to work.

“No…I didn’t even realize it was a rune, to be honest. I just thought it was a lightning bolt.”

“Harry, your so-called lightning bolt is a representation of the ancient rune called Sôwilô, or sometimes Sigel. It symbolizes the sun's energy as well as life's energy and, in turn, health. Speaking about health, it denotes that healing is most certainly on the way. This rune, furthermore, stands for great power and success, especially if you are involved in a very demanding project. Unfortunately, some of Grindelwald’s more vicious associates also used this rune as their unit insignia during the 1930’s and 40’s, but that is no longer important. It also has something to do with success in relationships…never mind. Are you almost done, Harry? Good…don’t latch the last one until I have left the room and you have covered your eyes with your free arm. I have a feeling you’d rather have some privacy in the next few minutes, one way or the other. I promise - I will be waiting right outside. See you in a while, Harry…” he said quietly as he exited the chamber. As he started to close the door behind him, he said, “Now, Harry! Engage that final latch!”

As a dazzling flash of light slowly dissipated in the time room, Harry blinked rapidly until he could once again see his surroundings. Cautiously, not quite sure what he was about to see, he quickly went around the lid and unfastened the latches on the device. As he started to lift the massive lid once more, in his mind he heard the voice that he feared he would never hear again, saying those words she had used before. < Took you long enough, Potter…>

He almost released the rope in relief at that wonderful presence in his head, but caught it before the lid had dropped. “Hang on, Harmony…I’ll get you out in a second.

There was a pause, then Hermione’s lecture mode voice came out, sounding a bit exasperated. “Harmony? Er…Harry, why did you call me that? Weren’t you paying attention to Madam Pomfrey’s lecture? Harmony’s not here any more…well, she is…I suppose…because she’s me! Well, anyway…we’re back together…and we’re alive!”

By this time, the cover had lifted far enough that he could begin to see her form. “Erm…’Mione? Why am I seeing so much…skin?” he said nervously as he stopped pulling on the rope.

“Well, silly – you really didn’t expect us to be able to rejoin through our clothes, did you? I suppose this device takes care of that as part of the process and removes any non-human material from the conversion chamber, including all of my clothes. Wouldn’t want to have my jumper or Harmony’s knickers permanently attached to my body, now would you? Besides, if I remember right, you’ve already seen this much of me – remember, in the infirmary at Hogwarts fourth year? Like I said then, it really doesn’t bother me under the circumstances.” As she felt Harry’s reaction to that memory, she apologized quickly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you. Where’s my wand? Do you see something around that I can transfigure into a robe for now?”

Harry looked around and was relieved to find a regular bathrobe hanging off of a nearby hook. “Here you go; Hermione…looks like someone already thought about this very thing. Besides, the headmaster told me not to use magic here, anyway.” He passed the robe in to her, and as their hands touched briefly, a wonderful, joyous feeling surged in his chest.

“Thanks for the robe…and yes, I can see where magic might act strangely in here.” Hermione said. There was a pause and the sounds of movement coming from under the lid, and then she continued “Okay, Harry! I’m decent. Now can you PLEASE get me out of here? I’ve got something I just have to do.”

Harry started pulling on the rope rapidly until there was barely enough clearance for his girlfriend to scoot out from under the lid and over to the edge of the large marble slab. “Help me down, Harry!” Hermione said impatiently, holding out her arms.

“Yes, ma’am!” Harry quickly placed his hands on her waist as she put her hands on his shoulders. As he swung her to the ground, he said, worriedly, “Are you sure you’re okay? You were nearly dead, you know. Do you want me to call Albus in here? Or, he can call Madam…”

His next words were cut off by her index finger placed gently on his lips. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me, Harry!”

(A/N – if you want an idea of what Minerva’s sketch of the timeline looked like, go to HP-Lexicon.org, click on the POA book cover, and then the visual timeline of the time travel episode. This graphic, by the way, was one of the things that got the plot bunny started in my head. I just thought <What if the Harry/Hermione loop covered more time than just a few hours?>

Also, I borrowed Albus’s description of the Sôwilô rune from the website at http://imlive.com/qa/cm/Mysticism/runes__sowilo_videochat__sowilo_advice.html.

Anyway, there’s a few more chapters to go to see the final outcome of all this. And, I hope that you weren’t TOO disappointed by the resolution. Some may think I cheated by using the old deus ex machina solution, but hey, it worked for the Greeks!)

Chapter 48 – Now There Are Three…

<Mmmmm…Harry?>

<Yes, my love?>

<Well, when you kiss me like that, I admit, it is VERY nice…yes, right there…that’s where I meant……Harry, let me finish…please….HARRY! Just stop it for a minute…don’t you think we have more pressing concerns to worry about right now?>

<Hmmm…would this have something to do with the fact that we are trapped in a room, surrounded, I assume, by an unknown number of angry Death Eaters, not to mention a thoroughly upset Dark Lord, waiting for us just down the hall?>

Before Hermione could answer, the reunited pair heard a familiar voice coming through the door to the time room, which was now slightly open. “Harry…is everything okay? I didn’t hear any voices coming from in here and I was beginning to get concerned.” By now he had entered the room and walked over to them by the device. “How is Miss Granger?”

“I’m fine, sir…thank you for helping Harry get me back together again.”

“Not just you, Miss Granger…ah…there it is.” As Albus opened the small compartment on the side of the chamber and withdrew a single vine-wood wand with a dragon-heartstring core and handed it to its owner, he continued. “I see that the chamber chose the younger body. I was expecting that – I fear Miss Puckle’s body was damaged beyond repair. That particular curse does quite enough damage to be going on with, especially when the incantation is uttered by three magic users who haven’t had their voice silenced by a charm” he said with a wink at Hermione.

“OH…” Hermione said quickly. “I…I remember…last time, I…I mean, Harmony…Oh, BOTHER… I used a Silencio on Dolohov- and he still nearly killed me…and Poppy described the effects exactly like you did just now...and I remember....OH NO! Harry…you lost Sirius!”

“Yes, but that was last time, ‘Mione…I promised myself that this time things will be different. Sirius is safe at Hogwarts…and there’s nothing that can make him come here. Isn’t that right, sir?”

The headmaster pointed towards the door as he responded. “Harry, why don’t we first work on finding a way out of the predicament we find ourselves in currently? Miss Granger, while I’m sure that Harry thinks your current attire is quite fetching,” he said, causing Hermione to blush as she realized just what she was wearing in Dumbledore’s presence, “…I am of the opinion that you would prefer more practical clothing. Step out into the hall and I’ll take care of it for you.”

As they left the time room, Albus waved his wand and Hermione was relieved to see her bathrobe transfigured into Gryffindor school robes. “Yes…that is much better, Miss Granger. Now, Harry…about Sirius…”

As Harry started to say something, he was interrupted by the unmistakable sounds of a pitched wizard’s battle coming from down the corridor. “Wha…what’s going on? Who is fighting? He…you didn’t…” Before Albus could stop him, Harry started to run down the corridor towards the noisy melee.

“Harry…wait for me!” Hermione called out as she quickly followed him – and then she remembered a more direct way of communicating with him. <Be careful, Harry – remember our Defense classes this year – don’t go charging into a fight without knowing which side of the battleground you are on!>

Harry, who was now stopped just before the circular room, said with a smile in his thoughts, <Right, ‘Mione…but in this case I think I can tell the difference. See for yourself…>

As Hermione caught up with Harry, she realized quickly just how right he was as she sized up the situation. The battle seemed to be centered in the circular room, which had somehow been disabled so the doors remained motionless. In one part of the room, there was a small group of Death Eaters currently battling with a squad of older DA members led by...BLAISE ZABINI? And, Hermione noted with satisfaction, the students he was leading seemed to all be wearing school robes carrying the Slytherin house crest.

“Oh, there you are, Potter, Granger…it’s about time you two showed up. We’re protecting the Hall of Prophecy.” Blaise said easily as he fired off a series of spells towards a hooded figure who was attempting to escape. “I just got a private note from Professor Boardman. It says that I am to wait for you here, and tell you that he would like your assistance. He’s got another group of Death Munchers pinned down in the Death Chamber, but he’s a bit pinned down himself. It’s through that door, over there.”

“Yes…I remember. HERMIONE! LET’S GO!”

“Harry, wait! Let’s disillusion each other first. Might give us a bit of an advantage.”

Harry agreed, and soon both of them were shivering slightly from the feeling of cold that ran through their body as they turned nearly transparent. Hermione thought with relief <That’s better, Harry…I can hardly see you at all, and with our mind link, we don’t have to talk and reveal our position. Now, let’s go find Sirius!>

They carefully entered the large, dimly lit rectangular room. At the moment, there appeared to be no signs of life anywhere Harry could see, but then out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a familiar hooded figure taking cover behind the stone dais at the bottom of the pit. <There he is, Hermione, see?> as he projected what he was seeing to her mind. <Careful, now…where are the Death Eaters?>

<I don’t know, Harry… but I have a bad feeling about this place. From Harmony’s memories of what you told her afterwards, I know what happened last time. Promise me that whatever you do, stay away from the veil.>

<I will, Hermione. Don’t worry; death isn’t anywhere near as tempting to me as it was last time I was here. With you around, I have too much to live for now. >

<Oh, Harry…that was one of the nicest things you could have said to me! I love you, Harry James Potter!>

While he marveled once again at the power of the love he felt coming from her through the soul-bond, Harry continued to scan the darkened spaces for any sign of his enemy. <Oh, there they are…third level down…behind those benches. Stalemated, are we? They can’t move without Sirius picking them off one at a time, but he’s trapped, too. Well, let’s see if we can change the status quo!>

They slowly worked their way down to where Harry’s godfather was concealed. “Sirius!” Harry whispered. “It’s me, Harry…and Hermione’s right behind me.”

“Harry? You got my message, then. Oh, you’re disillusioned…very good! Hermione’s suggestion, I’d wager?”

“Yes, Professor.” Hermione whispered as she joined them behind the dais. “At least I remembered your lessons from Christmas break.”

Harry interrupted quickly. “Never mind that, Sirius. I have one question for you…what ARE you doing here? I can’t tell you why, but I know you are in danger in this room.”

“Oh, is that so?” Sirius said. “Don’t worry, Harry. When he asked me to come here, Albus warned me about...well, what happened in your timeline.”

“He WHAT?” Harry was barely able to keep his voice down. “Dumbledore ASKED you to come here? How DARE he risk your life again! I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me!”

“Harry, keep your voice down…you’re going to make my cousin over there assume I’m mental if she thinks I’m talking to myself. Now, do you honestly think that I’d let fear of death stop me from protecting you? In some ways death would be an improvement over what I’ve been through already – ‘the next great adventure’ as someone once told me. Harry, I’ve experienced two of my best friends, your parents, murdered by a madman and I could do nothing to stop it. Then, I found out that another of my best friends was a murdering traitor, causing my other best friend to think I was a murderer. Because of all that, I’ve survived many hard years in Azkaban…and I am NOT going to let James and Lily’s son be harmed because there’s a chance I might get killed.” His voice took on a very solemn tone as he continued. “Remember, Harry…I am an adult, fully capable of making my own decisions, and not even you can keep me from doing what I think is right. Consider for a minute if Hermione was the one in danger and you could help her. Would you allow anyone or anything to stop you from doing whatever you could to save her, even if you could die in the attempt? That’s part of the power of truly loving someone – being willing to die, if need be, for that person. Not necessarily for ‘the greater good’, but because you LOVE that person. It’s something those Death Eaters over there know nothing about. They think those kind of unselfish actions are reckless and foolish.”

And then, Harry remembered something that Bellatrix had told him so many years ago. “Oh, did you think that YOU were the cause of his death? That since he came to save you, you killed him? You DARE to try to take any credit for that victory from ME! How pathetic! Hate to break it to you, Potter, but it’s not always about you. Yes, you were helpful in getting him moving, but he always was a bit reckless, don’t you think? Eventually, we knew he would turn up, either to save you or for some other equally noble reason. And then, he would have died. I know my cousin quite well. He would risk his life to save you, or anyone he thought was in danger for that matter. But, it would have been his choice to do so. Foolish boy! No wonder he ended up in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin.”

And then…he understood.

<Hermione…I get it now. It’s what Albus has told me for years…and now I see what he means.>

<What are you talking about, Harry? What is it?>

<Well, it’s two things, really. First, ‘it is our choices…that show us what we truly are…’ When I saw Blaise just now, with a group of Slytherins, fighting against people who, for all they know, could be their close relatives, it all started to make sense. And then, what Sirius just said – I figured it out! It’s LOVE…LOVE is ‘the power that he knows not’. They cannot comprehend that a person would actually willingly risk their lives for someone they loved – and that is why we can beat them!>

<Well, of course, silly! Didn’t you know? Oh...that’s right…the Dursley’s never showed you any love, did they?>

<No. Looking back, that day by the lake was the first time I ever felt that way…when I began to understand what love is. And, it’s all thanks to you.> Still disillusioned, he leaned over to where he knew she was, and wasn’t surprised to feel her lips on his, followed by a warm surge of power throughout his entire body. <Hermione, are you crying?> he asked as he tasted salt mixed in with the kiss.

<Yes…but don’t worry, I don’t mind. They are definitely happy tears.>

Sirius cleared his throat. “Harry, what’s going on? Remember, when you’re disillusioned I can’t see you in this dark of a room, and you’ve been quiet for quite some time now. You haven’t wandered off, have you? Don’t tell me, let me guess – you’ve been snogging Hermione, haven’t you? As I recall during my seventh year, your parents seemed to like to practice the disillusionment charm all the time…and whenever they reappeared, their lips were always a bit puffy…never could figure out why!” he chuckled impishly. “But, enough of that. I assume by now Albus is probably busy with a Dark Lord of our acquaintance, so we’re going to have to figure a way out of this on our own. Any suggestions? How about you, Hermione? If I remember right from Christmas, you’re pretty good at strategy.”

Harry could hear the pride in her voice as she said, “Thanks, Sirius…now, how many Death Eaters do you know are in here?”

“I think there are 9…So far I’ve recognized my cousin Bella, Jugson, Dolohov, Rookwood, and Rabastan, but the other four I haven’t seen well enough to identify.”

“So, that means we’re outnumbered three to one…not the best odds to be facing, now is it?” Harry said with a chuckle. If only we could surprise them some way… maybe take out a few of them before they knew we were even here.”

Hermione sounded very pleased. “Very good, Harry! Since we’re disillusioned, if we’re careful we should be able to get close enough to knock a few of them out before they figure out where we are attacking from. And, by the way, I owe you a kiss or two for that masterful thinking. Pay you later!”

“As if I needed any more motivation…watch out, Death Suckers…here I come! My woman’s promised me a kiss or two when I take care of all of you!”

Sirius said quickly, “Hold on, Harry…remember, I’m here, too. Surely you are not going to deny me the fun of taking on a few of them myself.”

Harry grinned (although no one could see it) as an old memory surfaced. “No, of course not…and don’t call me Shirley.*”

“Ha, ha…you got that from one of those muggle movies, right? Never mind…I’ll give the two of you five minutes to get in position, and then I’ll create a distraction somehow. Then, you can lift the Disillusionment charm and take out as many as you can with stunners. Then, well, after that, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

Hermione nodded knowingly. “Yes, remember the old military saying – ‘No plan survives contact with the enemy.’”

Moving as quietly as possible, Harry and Hermione got into position and waited. <Harry, has it been five minutes yet?> Hermione asked after what seemed like an eternity.

<No idea…I left my watch back at Hogwarts. We’ll just have to wait…> But they didn’t have to wait any longer, as Sirius stood up from his hiding place and started shooting spells in all directions. As the Death Eaters began to react with surprise, Harry and Hermione reappeared in their midst and were able to Stupefy and bind eight of the nine before Harry realized that Bellatrix was not among them. He looked back to where he had left Sirius near the veil…and found him engaged in a battle once again. Harry shouted frantically, “NO! SIRIUS…BE CAREFUL! STAY AWAY FROM THE VEIL!” as he started to scramble back down to the bottom of the pit.

In what seemed like slow motion, Harry once again saw the scene that he had relived over and over again in the original timeline - Sirius ducking Bellatrix’s jet of red light; laughing at her. “Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

Before Harry could get close enough to launch a spell to deflect it, the second jet of light hit Sirius squarely on the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch…

And Harry again saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather’s wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.

As before, Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s triumphant scream as she headed for the exit, and this time he knew what it meant – Sirius had not only just fallen through the archway, he would never reappear from the other side…

Hermione grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back. By this time he had pointed his wand directly at Bellatrix, who wisely froze near the doorway and said nothing.

“There’s nothing you can do, Harry…just like last time. Oh, Harry…I’m so sorry…”

Harry’s face turned impassive as he said, “It’s not your fault, Hermione. However, there is one person here who could have stopped this whole thing…Albus Dumbledore.”

“Harry…do you have something you wish to say to me?” the headmaster’s quiet but piercing voice came down from the top of the pit. He started to descend to where Harry and Hermione waited; causing Harry to pointed his wand aggressively at the headmaster. Taking advantage of the distraction, Bellatrix turned tail and ran out the door, causing an angry outburst from Harry.

“Never mind about her – we’ll deal with her later. I assume you now hold me responsible for Sirius’s death in this timeline…a charge which holds some truth, I fear. Before we discuss that, I feel it is more important that we extricate ourselves from our current situation. If some or all of us are unable to do so, any charges you have against me or defense I would present would be somewhat moot. If, however, we all find ourselves still in the mortal plane after this adventure, I promise I will discuss this with you at length.”

Harry blinked as he analyzed what he had just heard. “In summary, then, first we all have to get out of here alive, and then we’ll talk?”

Albus smiled widely as he responded. “Isn’t that what I just said, Harry?” as Hermione laughed out loud. <Yes, Harry my love, that is exactly what he said. Now, let’s follow our headmaster’s lead and rejoin the battle.>

Before they left, Dumbledore checked the magical ropes that surrounded the eight remaining Death Eaters, nodded his head appreciatively, and smiled at Harry and Hermione. “Well done, you two…I have a feeling that the balance of power has turned in our favor.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Hermione said as they walked, since Harry was still refusing to speak to the headmaster.

“Think for a moment, Miss Granger…the two of you were able to completely disarm and secure eight of Tom’s most powerful supporters in a very short period of time. After I checked the strength of those ropes just now, I am certain that I could not do any better at the peak of my powers…and you are still developing your skills. I can scarcely imagine the power that you two will have as a couple. In fact, the magical energy I sense from both of you has significantly increased since I saw you last in the Time Room. Care to explain why? I have my suspicions, you know.”

Harry’s voice turned harsh. “Is that all we are to you, Professor? Powerful weapons to be used to defeat an old enemy of yours? Is this why you let Harmony manipulate the timeline so much and make sure Hermione and I got together even quicker this time – just so we’d be able to work together to defeat Tom that much sooner?”

As she heard Harry’s accusations against Dumbledore, Hermione gasped audibly at his audacity. But then, as she saw the reaction on Albus’s face, her embarrassment quickly turned to anger. “WHAT? Don’t tell me that Harry is correct in what he just said? I’ve already said this to you once, sir; the last time you tried to meddle in our personal lives at the beginning of fourth year- HOW DARE YOU! We are NOT here to be USED by you…no matter how noble the cause. Did you ever think that you might just ASK us to help you, especially when you saw we were falling in love regardless of your interference?”

“To be honest, Miss Granger, the thought did cross my mind many times…but I admit, I feared that you would not agree to help – a possibility I could not tolerate. I felt the risks to both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds were too great to allow you the option to refuse.”

“So, basically you didn’t trust us to do the right thing?” Harry interjected. “I will repeat Hermione’s comment…HOW DARE YOU! I have half a mind right now to take Hermione with me, figure out a way to leave you here, and never return to Hogwarts again.” He paused, breathing heavily and green eyes flashing brightly. For a moment Hermione thought he was going to carry out his threat. <Harry…you know I will go with you if that is your choice. Just say the word and I’ll follow.>

<’Mione, please let me finish what I was going to say first. Thanks, though –that means a lot to me.> Harry continued to speak directly to Albus. “But…I can’t….and the fact that I can’t abandon you, even with all that you've done to me…to US… should prove to you that you should have trusted us. I promise you two things, Headmaster. First, I will defeat Voldemort – that much is clear to me. As the prophecy states, I now know ‘the power he knows not’ …and that will be his downfall. Second, after we finish what you want us to do for you, I want you to know that I will no longer risk my life – or my future wife’s life...for anyone except for our children.”

<Harry…does that mean you’re asking me to…>

<Yes, Hermione Jane Granger…I fully intend to marry you as soon as we take care of Voldemort and finish our time at Hogwarts. We’re already both of age, of course…but we don’t want our children to think we were dropouts – we’d never hear the end of it. That is, of course, if you WANT to marry me?>

<Oh, Harry…of course I do! And, just so you know, Harmony accepts too! Yes, I can still feel her presence with me and she wanted you to know it’s about time, Harry. Remember, she’s been waiting around 10 years since she met you on the train. It just took her a while to realize it. First things first, though…we’ve got a Dark Lord named Voldemort to dispose of! Oh, Tom Riddle…you don’t know what you’re up against.>

Harry laughed out loud at this, and Albus looked at him quizzically. “Harry, I assume you and Hermione have reached a mutual agreement concerning your upcoming nuptials? Let me be the first to congratulate you, by the way.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Harry said automatically. “Now, where’s Tom…it’s time I have a little chat with him and his followers. You know, he REALLY shouldn’t have tried to kill off Hermione with that troll…he’s going to have to pay for that one.”

Albus smiled in relief. “You know, Harry…I think he will. You’ve heard, of course, that I was always considered the only one Tom ever feared. I think that after tonight, that will no longer be the case. Now there are three of us.”

****

As they returned to the circular room, they found that Blaise’s Slytherin team had finally prevailed, and the Death Eaters had been petrified and bound tightly, waiting to be picked up by the next Auror team that happened that way. “Well done, Blaise! Are there any injuries…or deaths…to report on our side?”

“Oh, a few diffindo cuts and curse burns, and one broken ankle. I’m sure Pomfrey can fix us in a trice. Fortunately you taught us that Protego spell a few months ago, so we were able to protect ourselves adequately. Besides, it appears that a few of these Death Eaters were reluctant to attack Slytherin-robed students. They never believed that this many pure-blood students would be “blood traitors…” as we heard a few of them mutter. That reluctance cost them the battle. How goes it with you? Did you find Professor Boardman? How about Miss Puckle? I haven’t seen her here at all tonight and I thought she’d be right in the thick of things. Where are they? I want to ask either one of them about a new curse I saw one of the Death Eaters try – it’s a purple flame of some kind and…”

Harry cut him off. “Harmony…well, that explanation will have to wait until later. But Saiph Boardman is dead, Blaise. Bellatrix Lestrange…”

Blaise let loose with a strong expletive. “I KNEW I should have tried to stop her when she came running through here like a basilisk was after her. Unfortunately, I was dodging one of those purple flames I told you about, so I couldn’t get a bead on her. How did it happen, Harry?”

“Never mind, Blaise…there will be time for those kind of reports later after we get out of here. Which way did Bella go? I think she’s meeting up with her master, and the three of us have some unfinished business with the two of them.”

“Through that door…out to the Atrium, I suppose. And, before you ask, none of them made it into the Hall of Prophecy. Whatever they were trying to get out of there is still safe.”

“Very well…just wait here and we’ll send someone to pick up this lot. On to the Atrium, then!”

When the three reached the Atrium level, they exited the lift with extreme care, wands drawn. <Careful, Harry…they’ve had plenty of time to set up a trap for us out here. Constant Vigilance, you know!>

<What, are you channeling Moody now? Honestly, Hermione, I don’t want any association in my mind between my fiancée and an old, one-legged, one-eyed retired Auror.>

“Harry, Hermione…hate to interrupt your little personal chat, but we do need to focus on the risks at hand.” Albus said amusedly. “We should spread out a little and form a triangle. Tom has to be around here somewhere…as does Bellatrix.”

“And, I’m sure he’s in a bad mood now that he realizes he can’t retrieve the Prophecy after all.”

“Can’t I, Potter?” said a high, cold voice.

Harry looked around to locate his enemy.

Tall, thin, and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes staring…Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry. But, since he knew this spell was coming, Harry had already conjured a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it. When he saw what Harry had just done, Voldemort took a slight step back in surprise.

Harry took a step in turn towards Voldemort. “Sorry, Tom…it’s not going to work this time. You know, you REALLY need to think through your plans more carefully. Somehow you got this crazy idea in my past that you could kill off someone who was very close to me, and I would join you as a result. It might just have worked, I admit, but, as the old saying goes, ‘If you want the job done right, do it yourself.’ Sending your minion, Bellatrix, to do your dirty work for you wasn’t the wisest choice. She never could control her temper...and that ruined your plans.”

“So, Bellatrix has failed me again, has she?”

“Master, I am sorry…I have no idea what Potter here is talking about. I was fighting the Animagus Black…and I killed him! I don’t know anything about any plans to kill off his mudblood.”

“Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment.” He then turned once again to address Harry. “So, this must have something to do with that message I received when I was in Quirrell’s head…the plan from a future me to send you back in time, force you into Slytherin, and then separate you from those who would turn you against me. Potter, I am sure you don’t expect me to believe that masterful plan fell apart simply because Bellatrix here can’t keep control of her temper. I suppose she Crucio’d you, eh? Ah, well”, he sighed “you just can’t get reliable help nowadays.”

“Actually, Tom, she Crucio’d me twice…and that not only interfered with the memory block, it alerted a certain someone to my predicament, and that person saved my life by coming back in time to set things right.”

“Ah…that would be…what was her name? Miss Puckle, correct? The mudblood assistant professor from overseas? Hmmm…well, I thought she was involved somehow. However, Mr. Potter, I notice a complete shortage of Puckles around here? Don’t tell me she’s gone and got herself killed or something? Tsk, tsk….how dreadful! And, Bella tells me she already defeated her traitorous cousin. Well, that would be TWO deaths on your side…and, let me see…NONE from my side, and the battle’s barely started yet. So, there are three of you here…a pathetic old muggle-loving headmaster and two inexperienced students, a half-blood and a mudblood, no less; against the most powerful Dark Lord ever known and one of his most powerful, albeit stupid, supporters. The odds are not in your favor, Potter.”

“Oh, that’s where you are wrong.” Albus said. “It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way -”

“By which time I shall be gone, and the three of you dead!” spat Voldemort. He sent a Killing Curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard’s desk, which burst into flame.

Dumbledore flicked his own wand. The force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry, though still shielded, felt his hair stand on end as it passed. Now it was Voldemort’s turn to create the silver shield. The spell, whatever it was, caused no visible damage to the shield, though a deep, gonglike note reverberated from it, an oddly chilling sound…

“You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?” called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. “Above such brutality, are you?”

“He may be…but I, personally, am not bound by such limitations.” Harry’s voice was both calm and extremely menacing as he turned to face his foe. “You killed my parents…and I intend to make sure you pay for that.”

“Ah, Mr. Potter wants to play, does he?” Voldemort said with a smirk. “Well, let’s see how you deal with this.” He turned quickly and flicked his wand as he aimed a jet of green light from behind the silver shield across the corridor towards Hermione. Harry had already anticipated this, however, and the one-armed centaur from the fountain had galloped in front of her, absorbing the blast and shattering into a hundred pieces.

“Wha…how did you …” Tom said, obviously shocked at what he had just seen.

Harry grinned from behind his shield. “Let’s just say I’ve already seen how this plays out…and I’ve done a little extra research and practice, besides. Now it’s my turn. Hermione?” <Remember, Hermione …we can share our spell power among the three of us, can’t we, Harmony? You’re still part of this, you know.>

Harry was relieved to hear two separate voices in his mind, answering him together. <Yes, Harry…we’re both here…and we remember. Just tell us when.> And then, he heard Harmony’s voice once again, <Just like last time, Hermione…wait for Harry’s word!>

Harry turned toward Albus and bowed slightly. “After you, sir…”

Dumbledore drew back his wand and waved it as though brandishing a whip. A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a moment, it seemed Dumbledore had won by himself, but then the fiery rope became a serpent which relinquished its hold upon Voldemort at once and turned, hissing furiously, to face Dumbledore.

<NOW!> Harry yelled through the bond, and the tide once again turned against Voldemort. This time, however, there were three fiery ropes. One, colored an emerald green, issued from Harry’s wand, and, from Hermione’s wand there were TWO ropes – one a deep mocha brown, and the other, a bright midnight blue. All three intertwined around Voldemort’s form. The silver shield was crushed against him as if it were tinfoil.

Tom screamed in pain as the ropes began to tighten slowly around him. He was clearly struggling to throw off the magical bindings, but was just as clearly unable to do so.

“MASTER!” screamed Bellatrix, as she fired off a series of curses at the three of them in an attempt to weaken their combined attack. Whether it was well-aimed or just a lucky shot, a red jet of light nicked Hermione in the shoulder. Harry winced at the pain, too, which caused all three ropes to flicker slightly for a second.

That second, however, was all Tom needed. With a last burst of effort, he disappeared, followed immediately by Bellatrix.

“HERMIONE! Are you okay? Where did she hit you?” Harry shouted as both he and Dumbledore rushed over to her side.

“In the shoulder…see, here. I’ll be alright”, she said aloud, wincing slightly as she looked at her shredded robes and the charred flesh exposed underneath. “If I remember correctly, you hit me harder than that during our last DADA demonstration, and Pomfrey fixed that up right away. Just caught me off guard, I suppose. If only we could have held on for a few more seconds.”

“Don’t worry about that, Miss Granger. I think we have served notice to Tom that the status quo has changed. And look…right on time…Fudge and the Aurors.”

“He was there!” shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail. “I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear…it was You-Know-Who, he was trapped by three ropes…and then, he got out somehow, and a woman Disapparated with him!”

“I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!” gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pajamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as thought he had just run miles. “Merlin’s beard – here – here! – in the Ministry of Magic! – great heavens above – it doesn’t seem possible – my word – how can this be?”

(A/N…Well, the rest of this chapter is similar to the end of Chapter 36 of OotP…with a few obvious exceptions.

Oh, by the way, kudos if you can identify the original movie that Harry’s line marked with a * came from – and yes, it is one he could have seen. It’s not that difficult, actually…if you are old enough to remember it , that is.

I assume that there are those of you who were hoping that Sirius would survive this time. However, for the reasons I’ve stated in that scene, I think JKR had her reasons for Sirius’s death, and I’m not going to mess with the timeline that much..)

Chapter 49 – Hogwarts, King’s Cross and Privet Drive

<Harry….HARRY! Where are you? Where am I, for that matter?>

Harry woke with a start in his dormitory room. <What’s wrong, Hermione? I’m in my bed, you’re in the hospital wing – your shoulder was pretty bad, remember. Are you okay? Do you need to call for Madam Pomfrey? Or do you just need me to come down for a visit?>

<Oh, I’m fine…I think ...wait a minute… it’s Harmony…she’s gone! I mean…well, I can still remember all of her memories...but I can’t FEEL her in my mind any more. Can you sense her still?>

<Now that you mention it, no…not since Bella hit you with that spell in the Department of Mysteries yesterday…I was honestly more worried about you, so I didn’t really notice. But, you say you can remember all her memories…for both timelines?>

<Yes…as far as I can tell. But, she’s gone…Harry, I need to talk to the Headmaster about this.>

At the mention of Dumbledore, Harry’s mood clouded immediately. <Yes, you’re probably right>, he sighed in her mind, <but don’t call for him yet, Hermione…not unless I am there, too. After what he’s done to us…to you, especially, not to mention Sirius, I no longer trust him to act in our best interests. I’ll be there as soon as possible…I have to clean up a little after all that happened at the Ministry last night, and then I’ll collect him at his office. Will you be all right until I can get there?>

<Yes, my love…but don’t stop talking with me, all the same. I need to hear your voice…it helps keep me calm.>

<Gladly…I know just how you feel, by the way.>

So, Harry got out of bed and showered while he continually reassured Hermione over their mind link. He didn’t even blush when he realized she was seeing through his eyes as he toweled off from his shower in front of the mirror.

<Well, Harry, I suppose we’re even now!> she said, chuckling. <We’ve seen about all there is to see of each other – on the outside, anyway, and I already know all about what’s inside you. So, are you okay with all this? As I’ve said before, it’s not like either one of us will get a repeat showing any time soon…remember our promise?>

As he quickly finished dressing, he responded, <Of course I do…It’s just like you said to me then - I’m not fussed in the least, seeing as it’s you that saw me just now…it’s no big deal. But, as I’m sure you agree, it wouldn’t be a good idea to press our luck with repeat showings…not until after we’re married, that is. I AM human, you know.>

<As am I, Harry…as am I.> she thought to him wistfully, as she indulged herself in a small mental replay of what she had just seen. Harry, by this time, had left his dormitory room and descended the stairs, walked through the Common Room, out the portrait hole, and into the corridor to the Headmaster’s office. After shaking her head to clear that picture, she continued. <You know, Harry, it’s strange. Yesterday I was legally a 16 year old girl who is biologically closer to 19 now according to Poppy’s calculations from my time-turner abuse, but now I really feel MUCH older. I assume it must have something to do with Harmony– After we merged yesterday, I’ve got two lives worth of memories to sort out in my head, don’t I?>

<Yeah, ‘Mione, I can relate. Come to think of it if you add up both of my trips through the timelines, I’m probably in my 20’s…so maybe that’s why I’m a bit more mature about… you seeing me get out of the shower just now.>

As he continued down the passageway, he heard a familiar sound which he passed on to his girlfriend. <CROOKSHANKS! What are you doing back? Harry, I don’t know if you knew this, but ever since that incident in the broom closet all those years ago,> for some reason THIS memory caused her to blush deeply <he’s definitely been avoiding me whenever possible. Seeing Harmony that day must have really confused the poor thing.>

<Well, he’s sure being friendly to me…purring and rubbing up against me.>To the half-kneazle, he smiled and said “Let me guess, you want to see Hermione, don’t you? Well, I’ll probably have to sneak you past Pomfrey, but I think I can do that.”

Crookshanks jumped up into Harry’s arms and looked directly in Harry’s eyes, and Harry could have sworn he winked at him.” So I suppose you’re coming with me, then. First stop -the headmaster’s office.”

*

*

*

“Ah, Mr. Potter…and Crookshanks! How good it is for you to stop by!” a bareheaded Albus said as he opened the door to his office. Harry sensed he was genuinely pleased to see his visitors, even though he knew Harry was not happy with him. “Is there something I can do for you, Harry?”

<Harry…please… for my sake, don’t say anything that you’ll regret later!> Hermione warned as she sensed the extremely rude, cutting remark he was about to make.

Harry almost started to say it anyway, but then he stopped and cleared his throat and said, stiffly. “Erm, no sir…but we will talk about that later. It’s Hermione, sir. She can no longer feel Harmony’s presence in her mind and we want to know what is happening…and we want to know now – I will no longer put up with you keeping things from the two of us.”

Albus smiled knowingly but seemed to ignore Harry’s last comment, “As far as Miss Granger can tell, both sets of memories still remain?” When Harry nodded, Dumbledore’s face visibly relaxed. “The merger is complete, then…it does take a while for everything to settle in, you know, and I was afraid that the curse that Hermione was hit with might have interfered with things. Harry, you should know by now that not everything magical happens quickly. I have found that patience is a good virtue to develop, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Potter? In my experience, impatience can lead to misunderstanding; conversely, developing patience leads to understanding…not necessarily acceptance, but understanding nonetheless...” He looked directly into Harry’s eyes as he said this, and then he continued. “I assume that you would like me to accompany you to visit Miss Granger in the hospital wing? Let me get my hat. It’s one of my favorites; you know…Minerva bought it for me last Christmas!”

*

*

*

When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, they found Poppy already attending to her lone patient. “Yes, Miss Granger, your shoulder is healed again and you are almost free to leave. However, after all you’ve just been through, I feel that a complete diagnostic evaluation is in order. You know what to do – go change into this nightgown and I’ll be with you in a minute.’

As Hermione started to comply with her instructions, she looked up and saw Harry heading her direction, still carrying Crookshanks in his arms. The two students ran towards each other and soon they were hugging each other enthusiastically “Oh, Harry…and Crookshanks! I’m so glad to see you…I was so worried when I couldn’t feel Harmony…” At the mention of that name, the half-kneazle tensed noticeably and jumped down from Harry’s arms as his fur rose menacingly, “and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hear you, too… and… and…” she stammered as she started to cry.

“Don’t worry, ‘Mione,” Harry said as he rubbed her back soothingly while they continued to hug each other “It’s okay…I’m here…” <and I’m still here, too…> he thought reassuringly, which resulted in a shaky sigh from Hermione.

<And you better stay here...>

Albus coughed slightly as he walked up behind them. “Miss Granger, my school nurse is about ready to come down and drag you bodily back to your diagnostic exam. I suggest you delay your reunion for a moment until she is done with you, and then we’ll have plenty of time to talk. In fact, I think that her findings may be of interest to all of us.”

Pomfrey joined in “He’s right, you know, Miss Granger. Now, would you PLEASE get undressed and change into this nightgown, or am I going to have to do it for you…in the aisle?” she said with a wink.

Harry and Hermione both got a sheepish look on their face as Hermione retired behind the privacy curtain and began to disrobe. Finally, she called out, “I’m done, Poppy…” and the nurse went behind the screen.

“Very good, Miss Granger. Now we’ve done this before…actually both you and Miss Puckle have, so you know what to do. Feet spread slightly, arms out…good… Now, let me get my wand, and …”

<Hermione…?>

Hermione put down her arms and said quickly, “Wait, Poppy…before you get started, would it be all right if …Harry joins us? I for one would prefer that he is here during the procedure.”

Pomfrey considered her request for a moment. “Well, normally I would say no to a non-related male student observing while a female student undergoes this procedure, primarily because of what you are wearing. Doesn’t leave much to the imagination, that diagnostic gown, now does it? But, under the circumstances, and due to the fact you are both technically of age, I can see no reason to refuse your request. Mr. Potter, if you please?” Harry quickly moved to stand beside the nurse.

“Now, watch carefully, Harry…I have a feeling this will be quite impressive.” Poppy said as she waved her wand in an intricate pattern while moving it over her entire body. “Albus…” she called to the Headmaster who had remained in the main room, “could you do the honors and dim the lights? It may make it easier for young Mr. Potter to see her aura.”

As Albus waved his hand, causing half the torches to go out and the other half to dim noticeably, it was quickly obvious that there was no need to reduce the room illumination. Dumbledore immediately saw a brilliant glow come from behind the screen, and heard three individual gasps accompany it.

Madam Pomfrey’s voice was the first to recover. “Well, that…wasn’t quite what I expected. Mr. Potter, are you all right? Albus, come here quickly…you have to see this.”

Albus hurried over to see what Poppy’s concern was, and was relieved to see what caused her concern. “Ah…I see that the bond between them is still functioning well, eh, Madam Pomfrey?” as his eyes glistened. Harry and Hermione were surrounded by a pure, indescribably white luminescence that was almost painful to look at. Their skin took on a translucent glow as the light appeared to be coming from deep within them. He had also noticed a separate beam of light, connecting Harry’s scar to Hermione’s unblemished forehead. The two students had a blissful expression on their shining faces, and it was obvious that they were not aware of any thing else going on in the room. As the adults stood there in awe, Albus began to notice rapidly changing, brilliant colors weaving their way through the bond and their merged auras. “Are you recording all this, Poppy?” Albus said quietly.

“Yes, Albus…it is quite something to see, now isn’t it? Oh, look there…see that pattern?” she said, pointing to an angry purple glow that crossed Hermione’s chest. That’s from Harmony, I’d wager. That mark was caused by the original attack on her in the Department of Mysteries…in the original time line. So, Miss Puckle is now fully integrated back into her younger self’s body, as we expected all along. Oh…now this is interesting…Albus, how could we have ever thought we could keep these two apart? I KNEW I shouldn’t have given in to your request to create those potions! Never again, sir…I cannot in good conscience ever let my potion making abilities be used for the wrong purposes.”

Dumbledore’s face fell as he, too, saw what Poppy had pointed out. “But, you never told me that their bond was that powerful…I would have never done what we did if I had known.”

“Remember, sir…the bond was still new at that time, and there was the added influence of Harmony affecting things. You know I would have told you if I had seen this indicator now. At that time I could only see the bond forming, but I never suspected…”

The aura had slowly started to fade. Harry and Hermione were now looking quite bemused from their shared experience. Harry was the first to speak. “What is it, you two? What did you see that interests you so much?”

“Love, Harry…” Albus said simply. “As you can still see, the two of you are bound by a love that I cannot find words to express…at least in English. And, since neither one of you knows the Ancient tongue, we have a definite problem in communication. Suffice it to say, Harry, that from what I have seen, there is only one thing I can say to you.”

“And, what is that, sir.” Harry said stiffly.

“Merely this, Harry. I apologize for doing anything to affect your memories or to numb your bond with each other. It was at my orders that Poppy created and Minerva administered the potion, so I am solely to blame for any harm this could have caused you. I have been an old fool…and I have let my love for you get in the way of my doing what is right.”

“Sir, begging your pardon, but I’ve already had a conversation very much like this one with you in the original timeline, so I think I understand where you are headed. But, all of this STILL does not excuse your actions with regards to Sirius Black.” At the mention of his twice-dead godfather’s name, Harry lost control. “HOW COULD YOU LET HIM GO AGAIN…KNOWING WHAT YOU KNEW WOULD HAPPEN.”

<Harry…please…you’re hurting me!> Hermione gasped in pain as she felt a sharp stab of intense energy flow through the bond. She also noticed that the color patterns in the still visible aura were changing in a much more agitated fashion, and the colors themselves tended more toward dark hues and tints. <Calm down…please, Harry…he’s trying to apologize…and your anger will not help matters.>

<Sorry, ‘Mione…I didn’t realize how my anger would affect you. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you.>

<I know, Harry – it’s okay…we’re still learning how this bond works. But if you ever get angry again, at least warn me so I can be prepared!>

Hermione now spoke to the Headmaster. “On Harry’s behalf, we accept your apology on one condition – that you explain to us why you did not keep Sirius from going to his death.”

“Miss Granger, I assure you that I would not ever be as presumptuous as to keep a grown wizard from doing what he thought was right. Harry, did you not listen to what he told you in the Death Chamber? The last time I talked to him, he promised me that he would explain his actions to you this time if he had the opportunity.”

“Yes…he talked to me… told me all about how it was his choice to be there., and he was willing to give his life for someone he loved…but WHY DID HE HAVE TO DIE?” he shouted again, this time not in anger, but in pain, as hot tears ran down his cheeks.

As Hermione reached over to wipe away his tears and hold his hand, Albus answered solemnly “Because he loved you, Harry…as did your parents when THEY sacrificed their lives to protect you from Voldemort…as Hermione loves you, and as you love her – where you would gladly sacrifice yourself for the sake of the other. It is the love that caused Miss Granger to come back for you when you were in danger…and sacrifice everything just to keep a promise she made to you. And, it is that love, which was the reason for those sacrifices, which now permeates both of your souls - as we have just seen so convincingly demonstrated just now. Yes, this is ‘the power that he knows not…’ that you possess in such great measure thanks at least partially to the sacrifice of others in you behalf. You don’t know how sorry I am that you had to go through Sirius’s death again…but it was his choice to do what he did. I know you will miss him terribly, but life will continue…and now you need to do all you can to make sure the sacrifices of your parents and Sirius were not in vain.”

“By defeating Voldemort, right? Why does everything in my life have to boil down to that blasted prophecy?” Harry said with green fire in his eyes. “Sometimes I wish I had never heard of it, or him. I think I know now what one part of the prophecy means.”

“And what is that, Harry?” Hermione said.

“Neither can live while the other survives…Unfortunately, my life will not be able to go forward until such time as one of us is dead. And, with all I have to live for,” he said, squeezing Hermione’s hand lovingly, “I know which one of us will prevail, eventually. But, until then, my love, I feel we better keep our relationship quiet. It would probably be best if we pretended that things were no different between us then they were in the original time line at this time, don’t you agree, sir?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, that would be best. Besides, with a soul bond as strong as yours, you, at least, will know the truth, and it doesn’t matter at all what others may think about you. Does this meet with your approval, Hermione?”

“Actually, sir, I was going to propose that very thing. We do not want to give Voldemort and his followers any information that they may try to use against Harry. Unfortunately, there are spies of all kinds here at Hogwarts, so if it becomes known that we are together, word will get back to Tom immediately – and I will NOT be used as a bargaining chip.”

“Well said, Hermione – and very wise. As I’m sure you’ve heard, you are quite the clever witch. Oh, that reminds me…I have received a request from the healers at St. Mungo’s to the person or persons unknown who may possibly know something about Dolores Umbridge’s strange malady.”

Hermione grinned wickedly for a second, but her face quickly took on the look of pure innocence. “What does the request say, sir?”

“First, the head Healer admits defeat, and asks that this person or persons please give them a clue as to how to proceed with their treatments? It seems that whenever they use the standard magical treatment for whatever condition Dolores is exhibiting, then those symptoms go away as expected and are immediately replaced by another plague, skin condition, or random transfiguration. They have identified a 30-step cycle that holds true most of the time, but there are a few random sequences thrown in for good measure to keep them on their toes. Miss Granger, Madam Pomfrey has informed me that you have some interest in the healing arts. Do you have ANY ideas that might be useful in this situation?” he said, winking at her cheerily.

“Well, the first thing I would say is that whoever did this would have to be quite intelligent…clever, actually; and there was probably more than one person involved due to the sheer complexity of the attack. It is sad to think that one of our honored professors at Hogwarts, especially one of such a noble, pureblooded lineage as our Miss Umbridge, would have been subjected to such cruel behavior…but sometimes, what goes around comes around.”

Harry was barely able to choke back a laugh when he heard this last from his girlfriend. “Oh, yes, I agree, Hermione. It was such a tragedy that we lost the services of such a fine educator…”

“Never mind all that, you two. Hermione, seriously, is there something you could tell me? I assure you that there will be no recriminations for anyone involved.”

“Hmmmm…let me think. Now if I was faced with a case of this nature, where it appears that the magical cure itself is the trigger for the next attack, that just maybe, the magical cure IS the problem…”

The light came on in Poppy’s eyes as she realized what Hermione was hinting at. “That means…that to break the cycle, a non-magical cure would have to be administered…Albus, did the Healers provide a list of the 30-step cycle? Let me look at it….”

After a few minutes of studying, she pointed at one line in triumph. “THERE! There’s the key to unlocking the cycle…those symptoms here match closely with the Muggle disease known as chicken pox, and the next symptoms appear to match the related disease they refer to as shingles…very painful, but curable with what the Muggle healers call ‘anti-viral drugs’, if I recall what I read in the old Muggle medical books I studied during my internship at St. Mungo’s. I was being trained by a somewhat eccentric Healer at that time named Junius Pye. He was interested in investigating the use of Muggle remedies as aids to healing at St. Mungo’s. In fact, I think his grandson, Augustus Pye, is a Trainee Healer there now. Anyway, Junius set up the program and I was in it for a few years. But back then, some of the more influential pureblood wizarding families refused to be treated by such means, so the program was cancelled. Oh, this will be interesting – if I recall, Dolores’s parents were some of the leading opponents of the idea. So, for Dolores to find relief, she’s going to have to accept a cure from the very program her family helped kill. Now that is ironic. Knowing her background, I’ll bet anyone 100 galleons she’ll refuse the treatment.”

*

*

*

Poppy was proven to be right in her assessment, but this was of little interest to Harry and Hermione the last few days before they were scheduled to return home on the Hogwarts Express. As the day drew closer, Hermione seemed more and more distant as she was obviously deep in thought. Finally, one day at breakfast, Harry could stand her silence no longer. “What is it, “Mione? What’s bothering you?”

“Oh, I’m still confused about one thing…how are we going to get out of this time loop? Remember, I have all of Harmony’s memories – and when she left her timeline to rescue you, the Muggle world was under attack from Tom and his band. I remember, right before I left, there was a Dark Mark hovering over my neighborhood. So, how do we get us back to where we belong? I’ve been doing some studying, you know” Harry rolled his eyes at this, but then grinned widely, “Ha, Ha…very funny, Harry. Anyway, if I understand the theory, this time loop will come to an end soon…and I for one don’t want to be trapped here. My parents there need me to return.”

“Your parents THERE? But what about your parents here? They need you, too. Besides, you’ve always lived in this time loop, so THESE are your parents, not the ones that are…were…whatever, Harmony’s parents…or am I missing something here?”

“Oh, don’t confuse me any more than I already am, Harry!” she sighed in exasperation. “Remember, I AM Harmony…so her parents are my parents, too.” She sighed deeper this time. “I think it’s time we visit the Headmaster again.”

*

*

*

“So, you see, Hermione…remember what I said. Yes, time paradoxes never really make any sense if you try to analyze them, but all you have to know is this. I have recently returned from a preliminary hearing at the Ministry to discuss the final disposition of the Death Eaters you helped capture, and while I was there I visited the Time Room…and ‘borrowed’ this specially modified Time Turner. If you set it up properly, using the techniques I will teach you, it can return the two of you to your proper timeline during the return trip to Kings Cross Station. That will take the least amount of explaining, I think. And yes, to answer your obvious question, Hermione, I assume that as soon as you leave this time loop, it will collapse, and it will be as if none of this ever happened – except to the two of you because of your memories. Do not fret, though – this time loop is an artificial construct based on Tom’s meddling, so it needs to collapse – and allow the original timeline to come back into play.” At her obvious concern, Albus continued. “Don’t worry, Hermione. I assure you, you will not be guilty of mass murder or even abandonment if this existence ceases. Think of us here as a reflection of those you will know once again as soon as you return to where you belong.”

She nodded her head slowly, started to say something, and then thought better of it, as Albus continued with his instructions. “Hermione, I assume you remember from Harmony how to create a Portkey? Remember, since both of you are, as Madam Pomfrey pointed out, ‘of age’ you no longer have to worry about violating the Underage Sorcery decree. Then, Harry, I think after you arrive you may have some business to attend to at Privet Drive, and Miss Granger would probably like to return to her parent’s home, where I assume you will find all has returned to normal.”

*

*

*

After a nauseating time turner trip that seemed to Harry to take forever, he and Hermione found himself at Kings Cross Station. He looked at his watch and saw they had arrived a good hour before the Dursley’s would have left Privet Drive to pick up their new car and retrieve Harry. “Good” he said, “that gives us plenty of time to ruin Vernon’s plans for me. Hermione, we need a Portkey to my neighborhood. How about Mrs. Figg’s house on Wisteria Walk? <Here, let me show you where that is…> That’s far enough away that we can sneak in, but close enough that we won’t waste too much time getting to Privet Drive.”

Hermione grabbed a drinks can she found on the sidewalk, quickly tapped it with her wand and muttered Portus as she concentrated on the location Harry had shown her. The can glowed blue and trembled slightly, and she smiled. “Whenever you’re ready, Harry –grab on. On the count of three then…One…Two….Three.”

They landed in the middle of one of Mrs. Figg’s flower bushes <Sorry about that, Harry…I guess those flowers you remembered drew my attention…> and quickly retreated to the side yard where they wouldn’t be noticed by curious passers-by. When they saw the street was clear of any pedestrians, they started the short walk towards Privet Drive.

<Now what, Harry? What do you intend to do, anyway?>

<I’m not really sure, ‘Mione…all I know is that I’ve got to do something to interfere with Vernon’s deal with Bellatrix. Any ideas?> he said as they stealthily approached the house at number 4.

<Tell me again what happened to you today and maybe we can think of something.>

Harry began to recount his memories of that afternoon so long ago, starting from when he had been picked up in the new car, and his assumption that they had stopped by the sales lot on the way to Kings Cross that day. Hermione’s eyes lit up at this, but didn’t say anything. Harry continued to describe the rest of what had happened, from his realization that he no longer considered Privet Drive to be home, to his thoughts about Hermione and Ron, his embarrassment when Vernon guessed correctly about just who he was thinking about, and Vernon’s loud diatribe which Harry hoped would possibly get him in trouble with Mafalda Hopkirk.

<THAT’S IT!> Hermione shouted triumphantly as Harry winced. <Oh, sorry, a bit too enthusiastic there, was I? But I know what to do! Just listen to me for a minute, my love…>

As Hermione explained her solution, Harry’s grin grew wider and wider until he could not control his laughter. <Good one, Hermione…Vernon won’t know what to think…he always prides himself on keeping his things ‘Ship shape and Bristol fashion’. And then, when he starts seeing the Ministry Owls arrive…>

By this time, they had taken cover behind a large hydrangea bush below the living room window <Don’t worry, ‘Mione. The only way anyone can see us here is if they stick their head out that window and look straight down. Trust me, I know…> From here, they could see the Dursley’s car, apparently freshly washed, waxed, and cleaned in preparation for its impending exchange.

Hermione grabbed a watering can and converted it to another Portkey as she nodded her head in agreement. <This is perfect, Harry! Now, do you want me to do the honors, or should I leave the automobile work to the man in the family?>She grinned at him slyly as she thought this.

<Very funny, my love…although I appreciate the reference…we ARE going to be a family someday, aren’t we?> He took a moment to collect himself as the emotions he felt at that thought surged in his chest. After a pause, he leaned over and kissed Hermione, then pointed his wand at the car, muttering a complex charm. The car glowed for a second before it returned to its normal appearance.

<Very good, Harry…now we wait.>

They didn’t have to wait too long before they heard voices come out of the living room window. Vernon was apparently going over their itinerary one more time “Remember, first we exchange vehicles, then we pick up that unnatural boy and his bloody parrot, then we come back here to turn him over to his lot to dispose of. That woman made it clear that this would all fall apart if anything at all went wrong – something about critical timing, she said. Well, no matter…we’re going to be rid of all this foolishness after tonight, and we’ll have a new car, a new home, and a vacation home in Majorca to show for it…quite a trade for such a scrawny boy as Harry, wouldn’t you say, Petunia? Do you all have your last few things packed and ready? Look at the time – we’d better get going.”

Harry and Hermione watched with hands over their mouths to hold in the giggles as the Dursleys loaded into the car. Vernon swore loudly as he tried to get the seat belt wrapped around him, but finally he got the key in the ignition and attempted to start the engine. As he turned the key, strange noises started coming out from under the bonnet, and purple smoke rose from both the boot and the exhaust pipe. Petunia was the first to notice that the car’s paint was changing colors randomly before it started to run off the sides of the vehicle, leaving large rusty-colored patches behind. Then, one by one, each electrical light on the car, starting with the headlights, started flashing, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed and brightness, until they all started popping from the stress. And, as a final insult, each of the tires slowly deflated, sounding exactly like four very loud whoopee cushions in the process. This drew the attention of the neighbors up and down the street as they peeked out from behind their curtains.

<OK, Harry. One last spell, and then grab on to the Portkey – NOW!>

Harry waved his wand one last time, turning the car into a very familiar object – a large pudding made of mountains of cream and sugared violets, which immediately covered the Dursleys head to foot in a sweet, sticky mess as they found themselves on the ground. He then grabbed the spout of the watering can and winked at his fiancée. <Well, it worked last time – Mafalda’s owl should be on its way already! That should keep them from their appointment with Bellatrix, now shouldn’t it?>

Hermione winked back. <Next stop, my house! One, Two, Three…>

Chapter the Penultimate - Restoration

(A/N – Sorry if you feel this is “too short” of a chapter, but after 49 chapters averaging over 5,000 words each at this point I guess I deserve a small break.)

The four of them went outside on the front porch, since it wouldn’t do to have a stranger show up in the middle of the Granger living room uninvited. As they looked out on the eerily quiet, battle-scarred neighborhood, ‘Miss Puckle’ said, “Normally I’d say take care of Crookshanks and Hedwig for me, but I guess that isn’t necessary since I won’t be gone long at all, will I?”, as she set the dial on the Time Turner to the correct indications. See you in a flash!” And, firmly grasping the handle of her trunk, she released the catch on the side of the time turner and it began to spin rapidly.

As she faded quickly from sight, Albus closed the door and ushered the Grangers inside to the kitchen. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, we won’t have to wait all that long.” He reached into his robes and pulled out his twelve-handed pocket watch. After studying it intently for a few minutes, a smile slowly crept across his face. “Ah…that’s much better…at Kings Cross already…now they are moving again…Oh…that makes perfect sense. I have a good idea what’s going to happen next.”

Mr. Granger asked anxiously, “What? What is going to happen?”

“Something wonderful. Why don’t we adjourn to your study now and you can see for yourself.”

They entered the study and looked out the now undamaged picture window …to see a very familiar landscape of well-groomed lawns, children playing, and most importantly, no Dark Mark in the skies.

“Does that mean…she’s done it?” Mrs. Granger said. “She’s put things right, has she? That’s our girl! But, do you know if she’s okay? And what about Harry?”

He indicated the pocket watch he was still observing carefully. “Marvelous instrument, this is…it was made by the same wizard craftsman that created my wedding present to the Weasleys so many years ago…here, see for yourself.”

And he showed them his wonderful watch, one hand of which was labeled in very small print - HJG, and another was initialed HJP. They caught a quick glimpse of hands marked with MM, RH, FF, SS, and a few others they couldn’t quite make out, but they soon forgot about that as they finally noticed just where the first hands were pointing – to the words “Privet Drive” They watched closely for about 30 minutes, seated in the study. Suddenly, the hands moved to indicate “Traveling by Portkey” and then they spun rapidly until they stopped on the word “Home”.

At the sound of someone’s knuckles rapping smartly on the front door, Mrs. Granger rushed excitedly to open it as an unfamiliar male voice called out, “Hello…Is this the Granger residence? There’s someone here who very much wants to see you!”

The door flew open, and Albus saw what could best be described as a brown-haired blur rushed in and wrapped the Grangers up in a hug while Crookshanks meowed an obvious greeting from the hallway. “Mum…Dad…I’m back! And look who I brought along with me!”

Still embracing her parents as Crookshanks rubbed up against her legs, she looked back over her shoulder at the young man she had risked everything to save, now standing alone in the doorway. Harry smiled at her for a moment, and it looked to Albus as if they were engaged in a silent conversation. Finally, Harry took a step into the house, extending his hand towards Mr. Granger. “You must be Hermione’s father. We’ve never been formally introduced. I’m Harry Potter, and I’m pleased to meet you.” They shook hands, and then he turned to Mrs. Granger. He paused for a second as he looked at her, and then said “…and you, of course, are her mother. Except for your hair color, you look very much like…well, someone else we knew. Now I know where Hermione got her good looks from….and her tendency to be embarrassed at compliments,” he added as Mrs. Granger blushed.

Harry then turned towards the other occupant of the room, nodded slightly in recognition and said, coolly, “Professor Dumbledore, sir.”

The headmaster, while not expecting a warm embrace, was slightly confused at the apparent rebuff from his student, but he quickly realized what could have caused it. “I take it, Harry, from your reaction to me now, that you’ve had some differences with the time loop reflection of me?

Harry’s expression was neutral as he appeared to be deep in thought again. Hermione, who had been still embracing her parents, walked over to him. She took both his hands in hers and looked directly into his sparkling green eyes. Not a word was spoken for a good minute, but finally, Harry sighed loudly as he wrapped his left arm around Hermione’s waist and pulled her close to him as they faced Albus together.

Drawing a deep breath, he then spoke directly to Albus, “As Hermione has reminded me, you are not the same person I have known over the past five years and I should not hold you accountable, especially for his recent actions – recent to us, anyway. She has also pointed out that without that other person’s guidance and intervention, we would not be having this reunion under such happy circumstances. I apologize for my behavior just now.”

Hermione relaxed as he finished speaking. Harry slowly reached out his right hand towards his headmaster. Albus’s eyes twinkled merrily as he returned the handshake warmly as he asked, “Hermione, Harry, would you mind sharing with us what happened? It has been only a few minutes to the three of us, but I’m sure your perception has been quite different.”

Harry and Hermione nodded and they all sat down in the study. They were immediately joined by Hedwig, who flew right to Harry’s shoulder as he sat down and nipped at Harry’s cheek with affection. Albus and the Grangers spent the rest of the evening and into the night listening intently to their story. Since Hermione had all of “Harmony’s” memories to recount also, they were treated to a unique perspective of events from two points of view. Finally, near midnight, they finished their story. Dumbledore stood and solemnly shook Hermione’s hand. “Welcome back…welcome back! I am so glad to see that you were successful in keeping your promise, eh, ‘Miss Puckle’? I assume you don’t mind me calling you that? As we have just seen, she is still very much a part of you, you know.”

“Yes sir. But, please remind me to never make a binding wizarding promise like that again…I’m not sure I want to go through anything like that ever again in my life.”

“Oh, Miss Granger, I’m sure you don’t mean that.” Albus said, his eyes twinkling with pleasure. “Based on what you’ve told me about your recent commitment to each other, I have a feeling you’ll be making another binding promise to someone in a few years…after you’ve finished your schooling, that is. Binding promises of that nature can be a very good thing.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to blush as he considered what Albus was saying. “Well, yes sir…I was thinking that very thing myself.”

Albus smiled and nodded in agreement, then continued. “And now, Mr. Potter…there is another issue we have to address – since I assume from your recent adventures at Privet Drive that you are most likely considered persona non grata at your Aunt and Uncles’ house, do you think that you and Miss Granger could see yourself spending time both here and at Order Headquarters, at least for the rest of this summer? In the mean time, I will be seeing if there is any way the protections can be established once again, or if it is even advisable to do so.”

<Wait a minute - did Dumbledore just say what I thought he said? We’re going to be staying here, AND at Grimmauld Place…until we go back to Hogwarts in September? Is that okay with your parents?>

She turned to them and said, “Mum…Dad…Harry wanted to know…is what the Headmaster said correct? Are you okay with Harry staying here - with me...and at Order Headquarters?”

Mr. Granger spoke first. “Of course we are, my dear…as long as Albus promises to keep those chaperones around at all times, that is!”

Mrs. Granger pretended to hit her husband on the shoulder and laughed. “Yes, ‘Mione…we really do want to get to know your Harry, you know. After what you’ve told us, I have a feeling he’s going to be around here for quite some time so we had better get used to him.”

Harry grinned at the two of them, then at Hermione. “Well, now I suppose we’ve got some business to take care of - business that involves Tom Riddle.” As he looked lovingly at Hermione, he continued, “Thanks to his and Bella’s timeline meddling, I now understand just what the ‘power that he knows not’ is, and, according to the prophecy, I am sure that will be his downfall.” Still looking deeply into her eyes, he said, “You know, sir, I think that Tom has a tendency to underestimate his opposition.”

*****End of YEAR FIVE…****

(A/N – Well, that ends it…until HBP comes out. And, I apologize to anyone who didn’t like the way I wrote the resolution of the time loop in these last two chapters. Yes, some of you may think I used a cliché plot device to “reset the timeline”…but if you look back over the story, I gave you plenty of warning! I mean, that was a major reason Hermione went back in time to begin with – to set the timeline right again. (Well, that, and to rescue Harry!) I knew that for her to be successful it would have to result in the time loop ending and the original timeline restored – just like JKR herself did in POA. Honestly, my intent all along was to 1) give everyone who read KAP an excuse to re-read all the books if they wanted to follow along with my version, and 2) leave things so that Book 6 and Book 7 comprise the ‘sequel’ to KAP – unless, of course, after reading HBP I feel there is a need to “fix things”. For example, if by the end of HBP – or book 7 – Harry and/or Hermione are dead, Harry is settled down with Ginny, or Ron is married to Hermione, I may HAVE to make an exception.

By the way, in case you were wondering, all of the canon quotes (both long and short) in this story were typed by me directly from the printed novels. I did NOT use unauthorized e-books as a source that I could cut and paste from. I know that JKR has not permitted any Potter books to be released in electronic form, not even during the peak of the e-book craze a few years ago, and I respect her wishes.

Now, I want to thank a few people specifically for their support during the writing of this ‘little plot bunny that grew…’ First, and most importantly, I want to thank my wife (*Hi, honey! *) for putting up with me over the past 6 months or so saying ‘Just one more paragraph, dear…’ while graciously serving as one of my betas. She caught many grammar/spelling problems, and helped with some of the dialogue – not to mention that she was an inspiration for many of the H/Hr ‘fluff’ scenes. (We actually have been known to finish each other’s sentences and hear each other’s voice in our heads from time to time, so those scenes were pretty easy for me to write.) Anyway, since I owe her big-time, I am going to be somewhat ‘incognito’ on Portkey for a while – I have to catch up on some ‘honey-do’ tasks, along with hopefully spending some time together, just the two of us.

Same goes for my family…I’m sure they are going to be glad to not have to say “Dad’s on the computer working on his story” when someone asks. My daughter, Renaiya880727 and one of my sons have also helped as betas from time to time, and my daughter is now off on her own ‘Portkey career’ as a well-reviewed author (and my son may end up writing a story someday too! The last I heard he wanted to do something in the R/L arena.)

Now, on to the other thanks… to all of you who have been regular reviewers, especially those of you who have followed up with emails – THANKS! (Since they know who they are, I won’t mention them by name…with the exception of IronChefOR - thanks again for the DVD!) It has really made my day to get emails and reviews from the Portkey community. Sometimes when I got a mini-writer’s block, I would just read some of your encouraging comments, sigh, take a deep breath, and get back at it again.

Finally, I want to once again acknowledge and fully credit the original kind words, encouragement and support from my first “Portkey friend” – the amazing danielerin. It really is all her fault that I took that giant step to submit my application to the ficmods back in November of 2004. So, if you don’t like the story, I guess you should blame her… *grin*.

By the way, I couldn’t leave this story without including one more quote from a somewhat obscure sci-fi movie. I will be VERY surprised if anyone actually figures it out! HINT – It’s very near the beginning of the chapter.

What does the future hold for me? Well, I have a few in-depth reviews I’ve promised a few of you; and some beta work that I’m still involved with. Then, after I finish reading and analyzing HBP, my next project will most likely be an essay for the Forums side of Portkey. I’ve been working on it here and there during lulls in writing KAP, but I need to check how HBP turns out before I can confirm my suspicions. By the way, most likely this will not be a Harry/Hermione related essay – it will probably be in the General Discussion section, if someone else doesn’t beat me to the idea I have.

Thanks again for the support you’ve given me. You’ve been a great group of readers! (And yes, I KNOW that the Author’s notes are almost as long as the chapter…:rolleyes: )

MapleMountain

Chapter The LAST* – Epilogue.

(A/N - *And this time I MEAN it…)

“And, after two more years of exciting and challenging adventures at Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione eventually lived happily ever after.”

(I threw that in there so this can actually be considered as an epilogue to Keeping A Promise.)

Sorry if you were expecting a new chapter with additional content, but as I warned you in the previous chapter this whole posting is just an author’s note to generate the chapter alerts to anyone who still has Keeping A Promise in their favorites list.

By the time this epilogue is posted, I will have uploaded my final edits to all 50 chapters of Keeping a Promise and set the status to Completed. Hope you don’t mind the minor tweaks here and there. Most of them were done to make the story more readable and are mainly found in the earlier chapters when I was still finding my voice as a fiction writer. Whether I ever really did is a matter of opinion ;-)

I wanted to get this posted before HBP is released on July 16, because I KNEW that no one would be reading this story after that…at least for a while.

Also, as promised originally, here’s the somewhat obscure sci-fi movie quote from the previous chapter and its source:

“..What? What is going to happen?”

“Something wonderful...”

That was from the movie 2010 (with a link to its listing at IMDB.com) and was a dialogue between Dr. Heywood Floyd (played in this movie by Roy Scheider) and Dave Bowman (played, as in 2001: A Space Odyssey, by Keir Dullea. I vividly remember waiting in line with my parents to see 2001 when it first came out in 1968…which proves just how OLD I have to be, eh?)

Two more shameless plugs – first, I know that some of you read my daughter’s latest one-shot because she said she got reviews from you, but here’s a link to it in case you missed it - Ghost of a Chance.

Second, as I noted in the previous chapter, I have been doing some beta work for some other writers here. Here’s one of the stories I have helped with - Their Way

Anyway, enough babbling. I hope you don’t mind the minor edits…in fact, I almost hope you don’t even notice they are there. And, for those of you who want to flame me for “wasting” Portkey Points, go right ahead – just by doing so it will give you the two points I cost you back… ;-)

MapleMountain