Secrets of the Shadows by TheGreatFox2000

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 10/12/2004
Last Updated: 08/04/2005
Status: Completed

Part III of the Second War Trilogy. Harry and Hermione have been accepted into the Auror
Program, and are ecstatic. But neither of them could have expected what training was going to be
like. Nightmares now plague everyone, strange disappearances riddle the land, and the secrets in
the shadows will finally reveal themselves. Rated-R for mature concepts and violence.




1. News and N.E.W.T.'s
----------------------

Hello boys, I’M BAAAAAAACK! ::big explosion::

Ahh, ::wipes eye:: good movie. Anyways....

I’m back. Fic writing is my home. I don’t think many people were too pleased with my ending to Part
2, as it received the lowest count of reviews for a chapter since chapter 14, so I wanted to get
this next one out. Not to mention I need a decent chapter that didn’t give away too much plot
information for Witching Hour’s Call for Papers (did I mention I love living in Massachusetts?).
Ya’ll wish me luck with that now.

Right now, I’d like to thank everyone who has thus far nominated me or my stories in the Reader’s
Choice Awards. I don’t expect to make the cut in any of the categories I’ve been voted for (Novel
Length: The Path Ahead, Short Fluff: Who Turned Off The Water, and Best New Author: Me), but I
still appreciate the love that you guys give me.

And so, let Secrets of the Shadows, Part 3 of the Second War Trilogy begin.

---------------

Chapter 1: News and N.E.W.T.’s

*‘HARRY!!!’*

Harry woke up in a cold sweat and sat straight up in bed.

“Harry? What is it?” Hermione asked sitting up beside him. He was hyperventilating and had his eyes
closed, trying to block out the memory of the nightmare. “It was the dream again, wasn’t it?” He
nodded slowly before lying back down, looking at the patterns on the ceiling of his (and now
Hermione’s) room at Grimmauld Place.

Hermione draped her arm across his bare chest and looked at him. She knew what the dream was about,
it even came to her too sometimes, though not as often.

*The pain...

The screaming...*

“I don’t suppose they’ll ever go away,” Harry said with a sigh. “It would bad enough if it were
just you, but I see Ginny too. Sometimes I’ll even get one with Ron and Luna.”

“I know,” Hermione said softly. “Do you want me to get Dobby?”

“No, it’s –” but Harry didn’t have time to finish his sentence as Dobby had heard his name called
and appeared in the room.

“Miss called for Dobby?” he asked, polishing a silver goblet with his red and yellow polka dotted
tie.

“No, Dobby, sorry,” Hermione said. “I was just asking Harry if he wanted me to.”

“Sir has had another nightmare?”

“Yeah,” Harry said laying his arm over his eyes. “What time is it?”

“‘Tis ten of six,” Dobby replied.

“Might as well get up then,” Harry said. “Could you start the breakfast, Dobby?”

“Of course sir,” the house-elf said before disappearing with a slight pop.

“Are you going to go back to sleep?” Harry asked Hermione as he got out of bed and threw on a white
t-shirt.

“I don’t see why,” she said getting up and mimicking Harry’s action by also throwing on a white
tee. “It’s never a bad thing to get a head start on the day.”

“D’you think your parents are up yet?” he asked pulling on a pair of denim jeans. Hermione looked
at her simple gold wristwatch (a graduation present from her parents) as she picked it up off the
nightstand and put it on her wrist.

“Probably,” she said, grabbing a pair of khaki shorts from her dresser. “They’re still used to
getting up early for work.” Harry only shook his head and sighed. “It’s not your fault,” she said
reading his thoughts. “If anything, they’re alive because of you.”

“The fact that I’m the reason they have no house and can’t go to their day jobs is a good thing
then?” Harry asked spitefully as he sat down on the bed. Hermione sighed and sat down next to him,
putting an arm around his shoulders.

“It won’t last forever.”

Those words had the effect of calming Harry down enough to look into Hermione’s soft eyes, and he
realised that what she was saying was true.

“I know.”

“Good,” she said getting up. “Now stand up, I want to make the bed.” Smiling, Harry rose and
Hermione went and re-tucked the sheet underneath the top mattress. “What are you smirking about?”
she asked, seeing his grin.

“I still don’t understand the purpose of making the bed when all we do is get right back in it,” he
said shrugging. Hermione narrowed her eyes and walked past Harry on her way to the door.

“It’s more comfortable,” she said as she stepped out into the hallway.

“Comfortable?” Harry asked, joining her in the hall and closing the door to his room. “We don’t
sleep *on* the sheets you know.” Hermione kept walking but turned to look at him and narrowed
her eyes slightly.

“I suppose that’s a matter of how you look at it,” she said with a slightly devious grin. Although
it took Harry a minute to realise what Hermione was talking about, when he did, he vowed to make
the bed in the morning from then on and spare her the trouble.

They entered the basement kitchen and were greeted with the warming smell of frying bacon and eggs.
Taking their usual seats at the table, Dobby was quickly at their side serving them food before
going and collecting the ingredients for a batch of raspberry pancakes.

“Is sir and miss satisfied?” Dobby asked from the pantry.

“Vewy,” Harry said with his mouth full. Hermione gave him a stern look and he swallowed his food.
“Very, Dobby. Thank you.”

Dobby’s grin reached from ear to ear as he quickly used his magic to conjure a bowl to stir the
batter in.

“Harry Potter is too kind,” he said. “Dobby is only doing chores that Dobby should be doing.”

“We’re still appreciative of them,” Hermione said.

“I thought I smelled bacon,” said a voice from above their heads. Harry looked up to see his best
friend–turned ghost descending from the ceiling into a seat next to him. “What are you two doing up
so early?”

“Good morning to you too, Ron,” Hermione said with a grin. The ghost yawned and scratched his
once-flaming-red hair.

“I’m not a morning person. So sue me,” he said with a smile. “Have another bad night?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed as Dobby loaded a stack of pancakes onto his plate. “Thanks, Dobby.” The
house-elf bowed as he served Hermione. “It’s still the same dream.”

“I’ve been getting a lot more nightmares too,” Ron said. “Visions of the battle in Hogsmeade,
Ginny, Luna...”

“It’s never a good sign,” Harry replied. “The one thing I know about nightmares is that they’re
never a good sign.”

“You’re telling me,” said Ginny, walking into the kitchen wearing her pyjamas. “I thought I smelled
bacon.” Harry and Hermione couldn’t help but share a chuckle at this.

“You and your brother have more in common than I thought,” Harry said.

“Oh, sod off,” Ginny said, pulling a plate towards her.

“My, my, a bit tetchy, aren’t we?” asked Ron.

“You would be too if your boyfriend was being forced to give testimony on what happened in
May.”

“They’re still after him about that?” Hermione asked. Ginny nodded solemnly.

Draco, just as he had said, had been accepted for the job he applied for at the Ministry. However,
since then he had been held there and subjected to the very worst of the Auror and Unspeakable
Divsions to make sure he wasn’t a spy working for Voldemort. He hadn’t been able to join Ginny and
the Weasleys at the Burrow as they’d planned (even though that wouldn’t have happened anyway, as
Dumbledore had moved everyone to headquarters as a safety precaution), and from what Ginny said,
he’d been forced to drink some very vile potions to ensure that he spoke naught but the
truth.

Almost as if on cue, the fireplace roared to life with green flames, and out came the topic of
their conversation.

“Draco!” Ginny squealed as she rushed over to embrace him in a hug. He apparently wasn’t prepared
with anyone being up so early and was nearly bowled over as a result.

“Whoa, easy there, Gin,” he said brushing the soot of his robes. He was leaning in to kiss her when
Ron cleared his throat and made them jump apart. “Well, aren’t we all up a bit early.”

“The bacon’s good,” Harry said holding up a piece. Draco sat down at the table next to Ron and
pulled a plate towards him. “How’d you get here, anyway?”

“Well, the final hearing was today and Dumbledore showed up on my behalf,” the blond said, taking a
swig of orange juice. “After it was over, he told me how to get here.”

“If sirs or misses would like anything else then please let Dobby–”

Draco choked on his eggs as he spun around to face the elf, whose eyes promptly bulged out and let
out a loud squeak.

“Oh, that’s right,” Harry said in a bored tone of voice. “You two need a re-introducing.”

“Ha-Harry Potter sir, certainly mister Malfoy isn’t staying here, is he?” Dobby asked, looking more
terrified than Harry had even seen him, and that was saying something.

“I do believe I am staying here,” Draco said. “Is that a problem?”

“N-n-no problem, sir...”

“Stop it,” Hermione snapped, causing everyone in the room to look at her. “Draco, Dobby has been
kind enough to offer his services while we live here. Dobby, Draco will be staying here in order to
protect himself. Now I realise that the two of you may not exactly fancy each other, but Draco, you
will treat Dobby with the due respect he deserves in Harry’s house.”

“Our house,” Harry corrected, causing Hermione to look at him.

“Our house, then,” she said with a slight smile. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Granger.”

“Good, now let’s enjoy this wonderful breakfast, shall we?”

Draco gave one last look at Dobby and sighed before resuming his breakfast. Dobby continued to
putter around the kitchen, though doing his best to stay as far away from his former master’s son
as possible.

“So how’d it go?” Ginny asked, once everyone had calmed down again.

“Well apparently I’m not a spy, so I can go to work regularly now,” Draco said. “Oh, and by the
way, Potter, Dumbledore asked me to tell you that he’s going to be stopping by later on, though I
think I already know why.”

“Enlighten us, then,” Hermione said. Draco stared at her in surprise.

“You mean I know something you don’t?” he asked in mock surprise. “What a wonderful day for
everyone who isn’t Hermione Granger.”

“Malfoy...” Harry said warningly.

“Fine, I’m sorry, but I had to get that out of my system,” he said with a smile, although no one
else at the table joined him in his sentiment. “Dumbledore’s coming by to announce the new
Minister.”

“They finally decided, then?” Ron asked. Draco nodded.

“Who’s it going to be?” Ginny asked, causing her boyfriend to sigh.

“Well, let’s just put it like this,” he said. “I never thought I’d see the day where a Weasley
became Minister of Magic. Nothing against you Ginny, of course.” The other four pairs of eyes in
the room widened in surprise and excitement.

“Oh my gosh, Dad became Minister?” Ginny squealed, before throwing herself at Draco with her arms
open.

“Ginny...”

“This is great!” Ron exclaimed. “And with Dad as Minister, you two’ll get into the Auror program
for sure!” he said to Harry and Hermione. Their smiles widened, but it was all short-lived as Draco
cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry to ruin your celebration, but Arthur Weasley is *not* the new Minister of Magic,”
he said.

“What?” four voices said at once.

“Then who is?” Ron demanded.

“Your brother,” Draco said. “Percy.”

These time-shattering silences were starting to irritate Harry. For a moment no one did anything.
Hermione’s and Ginny’s eyes were wide with surprise, Ron’s mouth was slightly agape, and Harry was
slowly counting down in his head to when the outburst would occur.

*‘5...........’

‘4...........’

‘3...........’

‘2...........’*

Ron’s mouth closed and his fists clenched.

*‘1..........’*

“HOW COULD THEY BLOODY ELECT HIM?!” Ron roared.

“Ron, shut up,” Ginny hissed. “You’ll wake everyone.”

“I don’t bloody care!” he yelled. “How...*why* on Merlin’s green earth would the Wizengamot
elect Perfectly Pompous Percy?”

“Well he *was* the leading candidate,” Draco said. “Apparently they thought he did a stellar
job as Senior Undersecretary–”

“Bollocks!” Ron yelled. “Don’t you remember that bill he submitted to the Wizengamot on pure-blood
superiority?”

“To be fair, Ron, he was proposing an amendment to change the laws so that muggle-borns could hold
higher-up positions in the government,” Hermione said.

“He might as well have just said that the entire population of muggle-borns are worth less than a
single pure-blood,” Ron huffed.

“I think he was trying to convey the exact opposite, actually,” Harry said.

“Fine, side with them!” Ron exclaimed, waving his arms. “I’m going to tell Mum and Dad.” With that,
he drifted up from his seat at the table and floated through the ceiling.

“He’ll get over it,” Ginny said once her transparent brother had vanished. “But it’ll take a while.
Dear me...Percy, of all people...”

“This isn’t good,” Hermione said.

“How come?” Harry asked.

“Well there are two big reasons. One, Arthur’s job could now be in jeopardy depending solely on
Percy’s mood. Two, our future as aurors could also be in serious danger. You know how quick he was
to side with Fudge during that whole mess in fifth year. And if he thinks along those lines, then
my chances are slim, because pretty much everyone knows that I’m the future Mrs. Harry Potter,” she
said lifting her hand to show him the engagement ring.

“Oh......right.”

“Well now, isn’t everyone up bright and early today,” said David Granger walking into the kitchen,
his wife in tow. “I thought I heard someone yelling.”

“That would be my git of a brother,” Ginny said with a frown. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no trouble at all,” Emma Granger said, sitting down at the table. “And you’re.....Draco,
right?” she asked him, to which he nodded. “You’ll be staying with us now?” Again, another nod.
“Well what was all the fuss about this morning?”

“A new Minister of Magic was elected this morning,” Hermione said. “It’s Percy Weasley.” Her
parents exchanged confused looks at this.

“Er...is this a bad thing?” David asked.

“He’s no better than Fudge,” Ginny said. “He’s an older brother of mine, though we try to forget
that he’s part of the family.”

At this point a very loud screech was heard from somewhere above them, followed by a loud
thud.

“And that would be Ron telling Mum and Dad,” Ginny said morosely.

“Is he really that bad?” Emma Granger asked.

“I don’t suppose Hermione told you about what happened in my fifth year?” Harry responded.

“Well yes, but what does this Percy have to do with you?” Emma said.

“He was one of the few that voted for my expulsion.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly there was a loud yell heard from the vicinity of the stairs.

“This is absurd!” came the unmistakable voice of Molly Weasley from the hall. “How could this have
happened?”

“Now, now, Molly, there’s no need to overreact...”

“I’m not overreacting!” the matriarch of the Weasley clan screeched as she and Arthur came through
the door followed by Fred, George, and Ron. She stopped when she noticed everyone assembled in the
room. “What are you all doing up so early?”

“People seem to be commenting on that a lot today, don’t you think?” Harry asked with a
smile.

“Well I’m glad that someone is able to find humour in all this!” Molly yelled. “Percy as Minister,
what was the Wizengamot thinking–”

“Yes, a lot of people were most surprised when I nominated him,” a disturbingly calm voice said
from the doorway.

“Albus, how good of you to join us,” Arthur said, walking over and shaking the headmaster’s
hand.

“Thank you, Arthur, although it seems the primary reason for my visit has already been revealed,”
he said, glancing over his spectacles at Draco, who promptly fixed his gaze on his empty
plate.

“Why Percy?” Hermione asked. “Why not Amelia Bones, for instance?”

“She was considered,” Dumbledore said, conjuring himself a chair and sitting down at the table.
“But she openly requested not to be voted for.”

“Why not?” Ron asked. Dumbledore shrugged.

“Apparently she didn’t want the responsibility,” he said. “Though you can hardly blame her. One
doesn’t spend 26 years being the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and not feel over-excessively
responsible for things beyond one’s control.”

“So you nominated Percy,” George said, taking a sip of orange juice. “Don’t get me wrong Albus,
none of us would ever argue with you–” he glanced at Harry with a small snicker. “Well, most of
us.”

“But why on earth would you choose *him*?” Fred finished.

“I wish to impress upon all of you the fact that I have no interest in political power for myself
in the least,” Dumbledore stated. “That being said, we need someone in office who will be easy for
us to watch. Someone who is......inexperienced in political matters involving high power, and can
be swayed easily by the right people.”

“And who do we have in the Ministry that could do that?” Molly asked. Dumbledore’s head turned
until his gaze was fixed upon a seat three to the left of him, and slowly all eyes in the room fell
on Draco, who noticed this.

“Me?” he asked incredulously. “No. Not happening. Not a chance in hell.”

“As a result of your late father’s connections, not to mention some sizeable donations that have
been made in your name as of late, you’ll find that swaying the opinion of someone like Percy will
not be difficult at all,” the headmaster said with a smile. Draco considered this for a
moment.

“I’m not usually one to pass up an opportunity for power,” he said. “But what do I get out of all
of this?”

“I think,” Dumbledore said evenly. “That considering the...er, mess I’ve helped you out with in the
past two weeks, perhaps you could do this as a personal favor to me?” The graduated Slytherin took
a long pull from his goblet.

“All right,” he said after a moment. “But on one condition.”

“I really don’t think it’s very polite of you to be making demands,” Molly said, but was silenced
by Dumbledore.

“I want in on the Order of the Phoenix.”

“A reasonable request,” the headmaster said. “I have no arguments against it, but other members
surely will.”

“Not if I back him, they won’t,” Harry said, causing all eyes in the room to be turned on him. “Oh
come on, Draco and I hated each other as much as my father and Snape. If and when I vouch for him,
he’ll be admitted.”

There was a stunned silence following these words, whilst Dumbledore simply twinkled away at
Harry.

“Well I think I’ve said all I need to say,” the headmaster said, rising. “I’ll let you all get to
your day-to-day activities then. Oh, and Hermione?”

“Yes, sir?” she asked.

“You may expect what you’ve been so anxiously awaiting sometime this morning.” Hermione’s eyes grew
wide at this, and Dumbledore merely smiled and exited the room.

“What was he going on about?” Ron asked.

“Do you really think he meant it?” Hermione asked, suddenly very giddy.

“Meant what?” Harry replied.

“Oh, if they come today I’ll be so thrilled, we weren’t supposed to get them for another
week–”

“Hermione, are you going to make me read your mind to figure out what you’re talking about?” Harry
asked with a smile. She was about to respond when a loud bang was heard from the fireplace, and
Fawkes gracefully glided out of it and landed on the table, dropping several thick envelopes among
the usual mail.

“Our N.E.W.T.’s!” Hermione exclaimed, rushing over to the letters and looking for hers.

“Is it that time in our young friend’s lives already?” Fred asked, glee running rampant through his
features.

“I believe so, my esteemed brother,” George said, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Well then, let’s see what you got!” Ron exclaimed, watching Harry, Hermione, and Draco find the
envelopes containing their results.

“What about you?” Ginny asked, looking for a letter that would have Ron’s grades.

“Me?” he asked with mock indignation. “Why in Merlin’s name, my dear sister, would I expend
exorbitant amounts of energy on exams that hold absolutely no meaning in my future
whatsoever?”

The entire room stopped and stared at Ron.

“What?” he asked, slightly startled.

“I never thought that Ron Weasley would ever use three four-syllable words in a sentence that made
absolutely perfect sense,” Hermione said with a huge smile. Immediately the room broke into a
chorus of laughter while Ron did his best to look somewhat embarrassed.

“Go on then, let’s have a look!” David Granger said with a grin. Draco opened his first and quickly
scanned the letter.

“‘O’ in potions and charms, ‘E’ in everything else,” he said. Ginny squealed and wrapped her arms
around him in a hug, causing a little redness to creep into his otherwise pale cheeks.

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled in his robes.

“Er, thanks, Gin.”

“Well, what about you two then?” Molly asked, trying to look affronted at her only daughter’s
obvious display of affection, but failing slightly.

“Together?” Hermione asked Harry.

“Together.”

They both ripped open the envelopes and two letters fell out of each of them. Hermione squealed
upon reading her letter, which for Hermione was quite rare.

“I got ‘O’s in everything I took!” she exclaimed, and was immediately swamped by her parents’
congratulations and hugs.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, dear!” her mother exclaimed, while her father was beaming.

“You’ve got a tough act to follow, mate,” Fred whispered to Harry, clapping him on the back.
Shrugging, he looked at his letter containing his marks.

*Mister Harry James Potter
Hogwarts High-Level N.E.W.T. examinations:

Defense against the Dark Arts: Outstanding

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations+

Charms: Exceeds Expectations+

Potions: Outstanding

Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding

Other Significant Mentions:
6th Year: Prefect
7th Year: Prefect, Head Boy, Captain of Quidditch*

“Well, how did you do?” Hermione asked, finally breaking away from her parents long enough to talk
to Harry.

“Three ‘O’s, two ‘E pluses’,” he said.

“Harry that’s wonderful!” Hermione exclaimed, giving him a hug.

“Fanks,” he said, muffled by her hair. “Hey, what are these?” he asked, pulling the two other
sheets of parchment that had come with their grades towards him.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. Harry handed her the one that had come with her letter, while
scanning his.

*Dear Mister Potter,

Your application to the Auror Training Program has been received and carefully considered. Your
marks are more than sufficient, and your leadership skills are of a very high quality. Therefore, I
am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the ATP, along with one other person who
applied. We expect to see you at Auror Headquarters, Level Two of the Ministry of Magic, on June
20th. Bring only your wand. Congratulations on your acceptance.

Signed,
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of Magical Law Enoforcement*

“Bloody hell,” whispered Ron over Harry’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you had already applied.”

“I didn’t,” Harry said in an equally low tone. “And I thought Amelia Bones was the Head of Magical
Law Enforcement.” He glanced over at Hermione who was re-reading her letter. “What does yours
say?”

“I got into the auror program,” she whispered. “I hadn’t even applied yet.” Harry showed his letter
to her.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he said. “But how is this possible?” As if to answer him, Fawkes
separated a letter from the pile and pushed it towards Harry. Seeing both his and Hermione’s names
on it, he opened the envelope and brought it next to him so both he and Hermione could read
it.

*Dear Mr. and Soon-To-Be-Mrs. Potter,

Neither of you were aware of this, but upon receiving information regarding your N.E.W.T. grades, I
took it upon myself to submit applications to the Auror Training Program for both of you. I would
therefore like to offer my heartfelt congratulations to each of you. It is a profession that Lily
and James would have been proud to see you both in.

Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagal, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy

P.S. I told you I would help you become an auror if it was the last thing I did, Harry. Good
luck.*

“Well, wasn’t that nice of her,” Harry said with a huge grin.

“Would you like to tell us what exactly is going on?” Fred asked. Only then did Harry and Hermione
look up and realise that the entire room had been watching them intently with bated breath.
Smiling, he held up the letters.

“Hermione and I are going to become aurors,” he said with a grin. There was silence for a few
seconds before the entire room with the exception of Draco and Hermione’s parents erupted in cheers
and applause.

“Well done, you two!” Arthur was shouting from near Molly, who had tears of joy running down her
face. “First aurors in five years!”

“Forgive me for saying so,” David said. “But why is this such a monumental occasion?”

“*Why?*” chorused the Weasley twins in unison.

“Because auror is one of the most prestigious jobs a wizard can hold!” Fred exclaimed.

“They’re all looked upon with the utmost respect and admiration!” George added.

“Not to mention that they’re eligible for some very high ranking positions later on in their
careers,” Arthur said. “For example, Barty Crouch was an auror in his early days, and he almost
became Minister.”

“Yeah, but look what happened to him,” Draco said with a scoff, causing everyone to look at
him.

“Way to kill the mood, Malfoy,” Ron said.

“Terribly sorry,” he replied. “But I haven’t been to sleep for several days straight now, so
forgive me if I don’t join in the celebrating and retire.”

“Where do you plan on sleeping?” Harry asked.

“Dumbledore said I could take the fourth room on the left on the second floor,” he said. “So I’ll
be in there.” Harry nodded, and Draco rose from his seat and left.

“We must have a party!” George exclaimed once the door closed. “In honor of the two newest aurors,
Harry and Hermione!”

“I think that’s reasonable,” Emma said. “When?”

“Tonight,” said Fred with a grin. “There’s a wonderful restaurant in Diagon Alley that has a
banquet hall for formal occasions. We’ll rent it out.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Harry. “Banquet hall? Formal occasions?”

“Quite right!” exclaimed Fred, clapping Harry very hard on the back. “We’ve been wanting to do
something like this for a while now, anyway. Ever since you gave us your prize money from the
Triwizard Tournament, we’ve felt we needed to repay you, so we’ll do it now.”

Harry looked at Hermione, who smiled and shrugged.

“Okay,” Harry said with a chuckle. The twins let out a cheer and quickly huddled together to run
through a list of things.

“Here’s the plan,” Fred said addressing the room. “Everyone meet at Angelo’s at six-thirty tonight,
and–”

“What?!” Molly shrieked. “Angelo’s? Are you out of your minds?! You can’t afford that!”

“Au contraire,” George said with a grin. “‘Tis but petty cash for us.”

“You’re joking, right?” Ginny said.

“Not at all,” Fred replied. “I realise we don’t divulge our financial status to all of you, but
rest assured, this will barely put a dent in what we have right now.” Molly could only shake her
head in disbelief and Fred continued.

“Anyway,” he said. “Angelo’s at six-thirty, and please clean up nice. This place is very high
class.”

“Are you sure about this?” Harry asked. “I don’t want you guys to go to too much trouble.”

“Trust us, Harry,” George said. “It’s no trouble. Just don’t ask us to do this for you all the time
once you’ve tried the food.”

“Is it that good?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yes,” Fred replied. “Angelo’s. Six thirty. Now go enjoy your day!” With that Fred and George
promptly walked over to the fireplace, threw in some floo powder, and shouted ‘Weasley’s Wizarding
Wheezes’ before stepping into the flames and vanishing.

“Well,” said Ron with an amused look. “This should be interesting.”

---------------

And that’s the first installment.

In regards to chapter length...in the past I’ve had some people complain to me about my chapters
being simply too long. I can understand that. I usually try to write about 12-17 page chapters for
each update, but that won’t be continuing with this story for two reasons. One, it can cause
boredom on the part of the reader (though I hope this is never the case), and two, long chapters
are frightfully difficult to write. So with that in mind, I would like to inform all of you, that
because of slightly shorter chapters, they will:

a.) Be of better quality (which I’m sure no one cares about :-P )

b.) Be updated quicker (stay seated)

I’m not promise faster updates, I’m just saying that it may happen a few times throughout the
course of the story. There will be no updates past the usual day of the week line (which from here
on out is Friday). So you all can thank me for that later j/k j/k. Until next time.



2. Return of the Rat
--------------------

Not a whole lot of reviews for Chapter 1....oh well, I guess I can’t expect too much on the
first chapter. Just keep on readin’ and reviewin’ that’s all I can ask for right now (that and
nominations ::wink::)

There’s a reference in this chapter to one of my favorite video games of all time, but it’s not
obvious for those of who haven’t played it. Pumpkin pie to anyone who can tell me what reference
is, and what game it’s from.

A quick reminder, in case some of you forgot, this chapter will again start up the use of ‘single
quotes’ for when Harry and Hermione communicate through their minds.

---------------

Chapter 2: Return of the Rat

Harry was standing in front of the mirror in his and Hermione’s room, buttoning up his plain white
shirt.

“They really decided to go all out for this, didn’t they?” he asked, looking at Hermione slip into
a black skirt through the mirror.

“Well, not all out,” she said. “They could’ve made it a black-tie affair.”

“Knowing Fred and George, they probably would’ve too if given the opportunity,” said Harry with a
grin.

“I tend to agree,” said Hermione with a chuckle as she threw on a simple cream-colored
blouse.

“Can’t say I’m complaining though,” said Harry pulling up a pair of khakis. “You look marvelous, by
the way.” Hermione chuckled.

“Quite the charmer, aren’t you?” she asked, sauntering over to where he was standing.

“I do my best,” Harry said with a smile. He turned around and captured her lips with his in a
passionate kiss.

“If we keep this up,” Hermione said once Harry pulled away. “We’ll never get downstairs...” Harry
gave her a small frown.

“I suppose we can’t be late to our own party, can we?” he asked. Hermione smiled and shook her
head.

“But...I’ll promise to make it up to you when we get back up here tonight,” she said in a low
voice.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Harry said with a grin.

“Deal, now let’s get going.” said Hermione.

They walked downstairs hand in hand and made their way to the basement kitchen, where they would be
flooing to the Leaky Cauldron.

“You know,” said Harry as he reached for the pot of green dust. “Somehow I get the feeling that
we’re going to have to learn to apparate if we want to pass the auror training.” Hermione
considered him carefully.

“Do you mean to tell me that you haven’t so much as even looked into *how* to apparate?” she
asked with her brow furrowed slightly.

“Erm....no?” he suggested. Hermione let out a groan and shook her head.

“Well then I suppose I can just help you out,” she said. “Mind you I haven’t tried apparation yet,
but I’ve read all there is to know about it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Harry grinned as he threw a pinch of the dust in the fire and green
flames roared to life. “The Leaky Cauldron!” he yelled as he stepped inside the flames. A second
later he was gone.

‘Why am *I* not surprised that he didn’t give any thought to this at all?’ Hermione asked
herself.

‘I heard that,’ Harry’s voice replied in her head. ‘Are you coming?’ She rolled her eyes and threw
a pinch of the floo powder into the fire, shouting, “The Leaky Cauldron!” and a moment later she
too was gone.

Hermione tumbled forward as she emerged from the fireplace, only to fall into Harry’s waiting
arms.

“We really need to work on our landings,” he said smiling. “You’re just as bad as me.”

“I take that as an insult,” Hermione said sticking her tongue out at him. “Oh, for pete’s sake. I’m
covered in soot.” She drew her wand and muttered a simple cleaning charm on herself before noticing
that Harry had the same problem and cast it on him too.

“Well m’lady, do you think you’re ready to go to our banquet?” Harry asked, holding out his arm for
her. Hermione giggled.

“I suppose so,” she said with a dramatic sigh. Neither of them could help but laugh as they walked
out into the back alley and Harry tapped the appropriate bricks with his wand.

Since it was a Wednesday evening, Diagon Alley wasn’t very crowded. The sun was setting in the
distance, and a warm summer breeze was blowing, making it a very comfortable walk for Harry and
Hermione. There was the occasional point and stare as they passed people, but nothing out of the
ordinary except for a tiny reflection of light from somewhere near the curb that seemed out of
place. Harry simply shrugged it off as a trick of the light.

They walked for a few more minutes before Angelo’s came into view. On the outside it seemed rather
quaint. Like most of the other buildings in the area, it rose four stories above the ground and had
a brick exterior. However neither Harry nor Hermione had ever been there before, so it was with
wide eyes that they looked around the establishment once they had entered.

Saying that Angelo’s was a simple restaurant would be a gross understatement. Harry thought that
saying it was a fine establishment restricted to only the rich would be closer, but not quite all
the way. It was instantly obvious to him that only the most wealthy in the wizarding world could
ever afford to dine here. They were standing in a large foyer with enormous full-body portraits of
famous witches and wizards that Harry had seen on chocolate frog cards hanging on the walls. A
diamond chandelier was sparkling some twenty feet above them, and there was a maitre d’s podium
made out of what looked to be solid cherry wood in front of the dining area, which looked to be
covered with a gold-threaded rug. It wasn’t until Hermione slightly nudged Harry that he noticed
the person behind the podium was talking to him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Harry asked, still bewildered.

“I asked, if you ‘ave a reservation zis evening?” the host asked in a very thick French accent.
Harry noticed that he was fairly short and probably had an entire bottle of Sleakeasy’s Potion on
his head.

“Uh...we’re here for the party,” he replied, not entirely sure of what the most formal response
would be.

“Mmm, and your names are?”

“Harry Potter and Hermione Granger,” Harry answered. The host’s eyes widened slightly at this but
quickly looked to a ledger to hide his reaction.

“Yes, of course,” he said with a slight bow. “Please follow me.” He walked off to the left, away
from the dining room and slowly Harry and Hermione followed him. The host reached a door and tapped
the knob twice with his index finger. Harry heard a click and the door swung open, revealing a
short, well-lit marble hallway with a lift at the end of it.

“Ze lift will take you to ze banquet,” the host said. “Top floor. Enjoy yourselves, Monsieur Potter
and Madame Granger.” With that he bowed and returned to his podium.

“Well, *Madame Granger*,” said Harry, mimicking the host’s accent. “Shall we go to our
party?”

“Why of course, *monsieur*,” she replied, with a chuckle. They walked into the hallway and the
door closed behind them, which Harry supposed was to keep unwanted people out. They walked to the
end of the hall and he pressed the button to summon the car. A soft bell announced its arrival and
they boarded, Hermione pressing the button labeled ‘4’.

“You know,” she said, examining the buttons for each floor. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear
these were diamond.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. “Everything in this place seems to be the best that money could
buy.”

“You’re telling me,” Hermione replied. “I wonder who owns this place. Whoever it is must be filthy
rich.”

The bell dinged softly to let them know they had arrived at their destination. Smiling, Harry took
Hermione’s hand in his as the doors opened to let them out. They were still rather early; he could
only make out four or five people in the room. Then he took a look at the surroundings and his jaw
dropped.

The single room occupied all of the top floor, and was made entirely of glass. The ceiling, walls,
tables, everything save the floor. He wondered briefly what kind of charms were used to make the
outside look like plain brick to anyone on the street. There were about a dozen small little tables
that could seat up to four scattered about the room, covered with navy blue silk tablecloths. Each
of the tables had a solid gold candlestick holder with a lit candle in each of them. Combined with
the dim lights and the fading sunset, they gave the room an ethereal glow. The soft sounds of jazz
and blues were heard in the background, coming from what he guess were magical speakers that were
quite well hidden. It was rather a lot, Harry thought.

“You like it then?” Fred asked, he and his twin coming up beside Harry.

“Er....it’s...a lot,” he managed to say.

“Well of course it is!” George exclaimed cuffing Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t let anyone know, but this
setup cost us about what you gave us to start the business,” he said in a whisper.

“How could you ever pay for this?” Hermione asked looking at the fading sun through the glass
windows.

“Well, let’s just say that our net worth has increased exponentially from what Harry gave us,” said
Fred in a low tone.

“So you’re millionaires,” Harry said, more as a statement than a question.

“Shhhhhhh!” George hissed. “We don’t like that term. It makes us sound so....”

“Malfoyish,” Fred finished, causing Harry and Hermione to chuckle.

“Listen,” George said, resuming his normal voice. “There aren’t a lot of people here yet, so why
don’t you go and chat with our esteemed Headmaster. He’s over there talking to Moody.”

“How many people did you two invite, anyway?” Hermione asked. The twins looked around the
room.

“Well, we’ve got room for....” Fred paused to count the tables. “About fifty,” he said.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Harry replied. “I don’t think I know fifty people.”

“Oh, sure you do,” George replied with a smile as the elevator bell dinged again. “Now go and
relax.” Harry and Hermione sighed as they started to walk over to Dumbledore and Moody, but that
strange reflection of light Harry had seen out on the street appeared in the corner of the room. He
stopped and looked at the spot, but again there was nothing there.

‘Harry?’ Hermione asked silently. ‘What is it?’

‘Nothing,’ he replied shaking his head. ‘I’m just seeing things.’

“Ah, and here are the guests of honor,” Dumbledore said with a smile as Harry and Hermione got to
his table. “I trust all is well?”

“Very well sir, thank you,” Hermione said as Harry pulled out her chair for her to sit down.

“Lookin’ forward to training, you two?” Moody growled.

“I think so,” Harry said. “I’m not really sure what to expect.” This elicited a scoff from the
ex-auror.

“It oughta be interestin’,” he said. “Back before this whole election business, it’d have been
Kingsley to train ya.”

“Yeah, about that,” Harry said. “I thought Amelia Bones was the Head of Magical Law
Enforcement.”

“When Percy was elected,” Dumbledore said. “Amelia was promoted to Personal Advisor to the
Minister. Kingsley was asked to take her place.”

“So who will be training us then?” Hermione asked. This elicited a warm smile from Dumbledore and a
more pained, crooked, one from Moody.

“Traditionally they’d take the best auror they’ve got and throw you with him on assignments,” Moody
growled. “But the Ministry needs all their aurors out hunting death eaters what with the return of
You-Know-Who, and they don’t want trainees getting in the lines of fire.”

“So what’ll happen?” Harry asked. Moody grinned.

“Let’s just say that I owed Kingsley a personal favor,” he said, his magical eye darting around the
room.

“You’ll be training us, Professor Moody?” Hermione asked, her expression brightening
considerably.

“I told you not to call me that, since I never even taught you lot in the first place,” the auror
growled. “But yes, I’ll be training you in most of the stuff you’ll need to know.”

“*Most* of the stuff?” Harry asked.

“Well I’m a bit rusty on my potions, so someone else will be helping you with that,” Moody growled.
“Dunno who though.”

“I see that more people have arrived, so it may be prudent to go and say hello to each of them,”
the headmaster interjected with a smile. “After all, it is your party.”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione said standing. “It was wonderful to see you both again.”

“You too, Ms. Granger,” said Dumbledore with a smile. “Or should we start calling you Mrs. Potter?”
Harry and Hermione looked at each other with thoughtful glances.

“We haven’t really discussed that yet,” Harry said.

“No worries,” Dumbledore replied with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure there are more important things
on your minds right now.”

“You two enjoy yourselves,” Moody growled, taking a swig from his hip flask. “And remember –”

“Constant vigilance,” Harry and Hermione finished for him.

“And don’t you forget it,” Moody said.

“Come dear, let’s go greet the guests,” Harry chuckled. He and Hermione waved goodbye to Albus and
Moody and walked over to a table where Molly and Arthur Weasley were sitting, the former fretting
about how much this cost her sons.

“Honestly, how they can go about and spend this much money just for one night is beyond me,” she
was muttering while Arthur was doing his best to look fascinated at the tablecloth. “Harry,
Hermione, how are you dears?”

“A bit amazed at the arrangements,” Harry said gesturing to the room they were in. “But I can’t say
I’m complaining.”

“Yes, well,” Molly huffed. “I think this is a bit extravagant even for Fred and George.”

“I still wonder who owns this restaurant,” Hermione said. “This place must have cost
millions.”

“Some witch,” Arthur said, joining the conversation. “Her familiar is a dog named Angelo, so she
named the place after him.”

“Must really like the dog,” Harry joked.

“Harry! Hermione!” a voice behind them shouted. They turned and saw Neville waving at them from a
seat next to his gran.

“Well, we should go and say hello to them,” Hermione said. “We’ll see you later, Mr. and Mrs.
Weasley.”

“You too, dears,” she said.

Finally, about an hour later, Harry and Hermione had said hello to just about everyone present, and
it turned out that he actually did know fifty people. Everyone who had been present to watch Harry
and Hermione open their letters, along with the entire Order of the Phoenix had shown up, with the
obvious exception of Snape and his dislike of joyous occasions. Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Lavender
were present as well as all of the old Gryffindor quidditch team. Apparently Fred and George had
tried to get Parvati, but she was on holiday with her family for the summer. The entire staff from
Hogwarts was there, and to top it all off, Fred and George had convinced Dobby to show up. All in
all, it was a rather festive bunch.

“Could I have everyone’s attention please?” asked a standing Fred in his best impersonation of
Professor McGonagal while tapping his glass with a fork, earning him a reproving glare from his old
transfiguration teacher. “Welcome!” he announced in a booming voice. “I’m sure you all know why
you’re here, but in case you don’t, we’re celebrating England’s two newest aurors!”

Enthusiastic applause sounded as he finished this, but Harry held up his hand next to Fred’s to
silence it.

“Soon-to-be-aurors,” he corrected.

“Yes, yes,” George said, dismissively. “Anyway, there will be dancing after dinner, so while we
wait for the meal to be brought up here, please enjoy yourselves!” The twins sat back down after
this, leaving everyone to chat amongst themselves.

Dinner in itself was a pleasant affair. Harry and Hermione sat with Ron and the twins while dining
on the best filet mignon Europe had to offer.

“Wizards get the best cows on the market, you know” George said, stabbing a piece of steak with his
fork.

“I would’ve thought it would be dangerous to eat cow in the first place, what with Mad Cow Disease
running rampant,” Hermione said, eyeing her portion carefully.

“Oh come now,” said Fred. “This whole Mad Cow Disease that the muggles go on about, it’s quite
ridiculous.”

“Why do you say that?” Harry asked, taking a sip of wine.

“Because it’s dim-witted pranksters who put the Imperius Curse on the cows,” George replied. “From
what I’ve heard they find it funny to watch cows do things that cows should never do, then have the
muggles shoot them.”

“That’s horrible!” Hermione exclaimed.

“No worse than what death eaters do,” Harry muttered, causing a sigh from his fiancee.

“I suppose.”

Once the meal was over, the tables magically vanished and a dance floor was revealed. However, just
as the music was about to begin, Remus (in true Marauder fashion) yelled out from the back,
“SPEECH!” and was met with tumultuous applause. So much to Harry’s dismay, he found himself and
Hermione standing in front of the assembled guests who were waiting for an inspiring string of
words (or something of the like).

“Well, erm...” he began clearing his throat. “First off we’d both like to thank Fred and George for
throwing us this wonderful party –” This was met with applause. “And we’d like to thank each and
every one of you for coming here to celebrate it with us.” More applause.

“An’ you think that the fact that it was held ‘ere had nothin’ to do wit it then?” Seamus called
out from the back of the crowd, eliciting a chuckle from the audience.

“No, and I’m sure that Fred and George were thinking along the same lines when they decided to have
the party here,” Hermione chimed in, causing more laughter.

“Anyway, I’m sure we’d all like to get to dancing, so if no one has any objections? Good. Shall we
then?” As if waiting for his cue, the lights dimmed and the volume of the music in the background
increased enough for people to dance to.

“May I have this dance?” Harry asked Hermione is his most gentlemanly voice.

“I would be very honored,” she replied with a smile. Harry led her out onto the dance floor and
wrapped his arms around her waist, as a slow, blues song started playing.

“You know,” Hermione said, resting her head on Harry’s chest. “I do kind of like the ring of
it.”

“Ring of what?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Mrs. Potter.”

“Shall we have people start calling you that then?” Harry asked, grinning.

“I think so,” Hermione replied. He was leaning in to kiss her when he saw it and froze. It was the
tiny reflective glimmer he had been seeing all day, but this time it didn’t disappear.

“Harry?” Hermione asked noticing his change in expression. “Harry?”

He didn’t answer. Although it was very dark since the sun had gone down, and most of the candles
had been extinguished, years of playing as a seeker had trained Harry’s eyes very well, and it
didn’t take him long to figure out what that glint of light was.

It was silver. And it was in the form of a hand attached to a rat hiding in the corner.

“We need to find Dumbledore right now,” he whispered urgently. Hermione was about to question him,
but saw the intense look of fear and resolve in his eyes and quickly silenced herself. They found
Dumbledore dancing with Professor McGonagal a few feet away.

“Harry, Hermione,” their old head of house began. “How are you...” but she trailed off when she saw
the look on Harry’s face.

“What is it Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

“Wormtail’s here,” he whispered, so as not to be overheard by anyone else.

“I see,” the headmaster replied. “Alastor?” he called to his left, and the old auror walked over to
him. “Where is he, Harry?”

“In the corner to your back and right,” he answered. Moody, seeming to have understood, swivelled
his magical eye to that spot. It took him a moment before his normal eye widened.

“We have to get everyone out of here now,” he growled in a low voice. “They could be coming any
minute.”

“No,” Dumbledore replied. “It would cause a panic. It will be easier to defend everyone from inside
here anyway.”

“How?” Hermione asked. Dumbledore drew his wand.

“Contega Vitalus,” he muttered, and the windows and ceiling flickered a dull silver momentarily
before returning to their normal transparency. “If there is an attack, we will be protected long
enough to muster a defense,” he whispered. “But hopefully it will not come to that–”

The words weren’t out of the headmaster’s mouth when ten green flashes went off from outside the
building. They all struck the glass simultaneously, and, to Harry’s great surprise, reflected off
the walls and went back at their casters, striking two death eaters while the other ten were forced
to evade the spells on their brooms.

Then panic broke out. Dumbledore quickly cast a sonorous charm on himself.

“Everyone must listen!” he roared as more green jets of light hit the glass, which was starting to
crack. “We cannot run from this. There are too many of us, the chance of escape too small. We have
no choice but to fight. Use every spell you know to defend yourselves.”

The people in the room looked apprehensive as they drew their wands, but all fear in the room
disappeared at once when the windows finally shattered and spells started firing from every
direction.

Chaos ensued. Harry didn’t remember much of the battle, only a few stunners that he’d shot at the
attackers (he wasn’t going to risk firing a killing curse when it might hit someone on his side)
and the freezing jinx that Hermione used to immobilize three death eaters in mid-air.

Fortunately, having a few aurors and several teachers from the most prestigious wizarding school in
the world can help in a battle, and by the time it was all over five minutes later, no one had
ended up dead. The windows and ceiling had been shattered, there were black scorch marks on the
floor in several places, and eight hooded figures were being bound and gagged, while the two who
were killed were being hauled off to the side.

“Well, that was scary,” said David Granger, brushing his slacks off as he stood next to his wife.
“What happened?”

“We got ‘em all,” Moody growled. “Kingsley pulled off a great stunner and knocked one out and Tonks
did a nifty bit of apparation and got herself out onto one of the brooms to take the last one
down.”

“Where’s Wormtail?” Harry asked, not caring about anything else at the moment.

“Hang on,” said Moody, swivelling his magical eye around before giving a small laugh. “Still in
that bloody corner, too scared to move.”

“How utterly like him,” Harry sighed pointing his wand at where the rat was. “Accio rat!”

There was a high-pitched squeak as the rat flew from where it was cowering in the corner into
Harry’s outstretched grip. Hermione immediately cast a revealing spell, and just as it did four
years ago, the rat grew into one Peter Pettigrew.

“Well now,” Harry said, looking the cowering man right in the eye. “Fancy meeting you here,
Wormtail.”

“H-h-h-h-harry,” he stammered. “W-w-what happened here?”

“Oh, you didn’t see it?” Harry asked. “Then again you were probably too scared to look up from your
hiding spot. Your colleagues tried to kill us.”

Peter stood there looking at the floor, whimpering.

“I should have noticed it was you earlier,” Harry continued. “I saw that hand of yours all day.” He
yanked back the sleeve on Pettigrew’s robe to reveal the silver hand. “You should work on covering
that up, Peter. It gives off quite a reflection.”

“Sorry to interrupt your reunion, Potter,” Moody growled. “But I need to take this scum to the
Order’s detainment center for questioning.”

“No.”

Moody spun around and looked Harry right in the eye.

“What?” he growled.

“I want him turned over to the ministry,” Harry said. “There’s something that needs to be cleared
up.”

“And what’s that?” Moody asked in a lower growl, obviously displeased at having someone argue with
him.

“I want Sirius’ name cleared.”

Moody was silent as it was apparent that there was a huge internal struggle going on in his mind.
Finally, after about a minute of debating to himself, he sighed.

“Have it your way then, Potter,” he said, conjuring two pairs of golden shackles and magically
fastening them to Pettigrew’s wrists and ankles. “I’ll take him there.” With a soft ‘pop’, he and
Peter disappeared.

“Perhaps it would be better if you returned to headquarters,” Dumbledore said to Harry, Hermione,
and her parents as Ministry officials descended on the scene with mediwizards to help people who
had been injured. “I will take care of everything here with the Ministry.” He tapped a knife he
picked up off the floor with his wand and it glowed blue for a moment. Harry took it from him and
held it out for Hermione, who put a finger on it, along with each of her parents.

“Good job tonight, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “You saved more people than you know.” With that he
tapped the knife again and Harry felt a familiar tug behind his navel as he was whisked away from
Angelo’s.

---------------

So yeah....not a fun chapter. I really didn’t like writing this one, it irritated me to no end, and
I don’t like chapters that have no or almost Ron in them. This basically just sets the story for
the next 20 or so chapters, and the *real* fun stuff will begin shortly. Until next time.



3. The Madness Within
---------------------

Well, I got a much greater response to Chapter 2 than 1, so that gives me hope :) . I would just
like to reiterate how much I appreciate the reviews, they mean more to me than you know.

The story starts to cloud over in this chapter...and the sun isn’t going to come out for a long
time.

---------------

Chapter 3: The Madness Within

“SON OF A BITCH!”

Harry, Hermione, and the Grangers had just arrived in the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place, and
Harry, in a fit of rage not seen since before his fifth year, grabbed the nearest breakable object
(a glass goblet) and hurled it into the stone wall, whereupon it shattered into a thousand pieces.
He was about to snatch up another one and repeat the effort, but found himself frozen in place, his
outstretched hand stuck in mid-air.

“Now then,” Hermione said, tucking her wand away in her robes. “If you’ve stopped expressing your
anger long enough to calm down, perhaps you could enlighten me on exactly *why* you’re firing
around pieces of the Black family china set like they were cannon fodder.” Harry blinked once to
show his assent, and with a wave of her hand, Hermione released him.

Harry slumped down into a chair at the table and slammed his fist down on it, though not hard
enough to cause any damage.

“Every time something like this happens...” he muttered. Causing Hermione and her parents to raise
their eyebrows slightly.

“Honestly, Harry, you can’t blame yourself for what happened tonight,” Emma Granger said
consolingly. He looked up at her with a clenched jaw, but after taking a second to consider her,
relaxed.

“I suppose it’s all right coming from you,” he said. “You actually don’t know why tonight was my
fault.”

“Tonight was NOT your fault, Harry,” Hermione said, the color rising to her cheeks.

“Bollocks!” he yelled.

“Now then, son, you can’t blame yourself for accepting a party on your behalf from two people that
you helped start their own business,” David said putting a hand on Harry shoulder.

“That’s part of it, but it’s not the real reason,” Harry grumbled.

“Then what is, dear?” Emma asked.

“Pettigrew,” he spat in response.

“Ah,” Hermione’s father said, drawing his hand from Harry shoulder. “So that’s the man who betrayed
your parents?”

“Yes,” Harry replied through clenched teeth.

“Mum, Dad,” said Hermione. “Perhaps you could give Harry and me a second?”

“Of course, dear,” her mother said. “We’ll be in our room if you need us.”

“Thanks,” Hermione replied. Emma and David walked quietly out of the kitchen, and let the door
close behind them.

“You could’ve been a bit more sociable to my parents, you know,” Hermione said once she was sure
they were out of earshot. “It’s not their fault.”

Harry gave a frustrated growl and stood up, walked over to the sink and turned the tap on.

“What is it you’re so worked up about?” she asked, almost pleadingly.

“Read my mind,” he said, splashing some water on his face.

“Now don’t get snippy with me,” Hermione replied hotly. “I’m only trying to help.” Harry turned off
the faucet and grabbed a nearby towel to dry his face with. “Now what’s wrong?”

“You know, sometimes it even amazes me,” he said turning around to face her, his eyes blazing with
self-hatred. “That I was able to get over Sirius’ death before forgiving myself for letting
Wormtail live.”

“Harry, is that what this is about?” Hermione asked, her shoulders slumping visibly with
sadness.

“Yes,” he replied. “Every time something happens that’s his doing, I can’t help but blame
myself.”

“It was a noble thing to do, letting Peter live,” she replied. “And what Dumbledore said is true,
your father would’ve done the same.”

“I don’t bloody care if my father would’ve done it!” Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Look
what’s come of it! Sirius was forced into hiding, Voldemort got his body back, and we came close to
winding up with dead bodies ourselves tonight! I think if I had to choose between Pettigrew or
Voldemort, I’d rather have crossed wands with the rat!”

“But you don’t have a choice in the matter,” Hermione whispered, a lone tear running down her
cheek. “You have to fight Voldemort in the end, no matter who dies along the way.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry sighed, taking a seat at the table again. “Still though...”

“Hermione’s right,” said Ron floating through the door and drifting into a seat. “There’s really no
point in beating yourself up over it, mate, the worst that happened on our side were a few cuts and
bruises from when the windows were blown in.”

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Harry said. “How was everything after we left?”

“Chaotic,” Ron replied. “But Dumbledore managed to get everything under control pretty quickly.
Last I checked Fred and George were talking with the owner of the restaurant, in order to sort
things out.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered. “If you talk to them before I do, Ron, make it perfectly clear to
them that I’m paying for what’s happened tonight.”

“Suit yourself, mate,” Ron said. “But they’ll just try to brush you off.”

“How did you get here anyway?” Hermione asked the ghost.

“Took a portkey with Mum, Dad, and Ginny,” Ron replied. “Ginny pulled something during the fight,
so they’re helping her up to her room. They’ll probably be down –”

He was cut off as the basement door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came inside, the latter
hurrying over to Harry and giving him a bone-crunching hug.

“–shortly,” Ron finished.

“How are you two,” Molly asked. “Not hurt, I hope?”

“No, we’re fine,” Harry said. “How’s Ginny?”

“She’ll be fine, just pulled a calf during the battle,” Arthur replied. “How about you, Harry?
You’re not beating yourself up over this, I hope?”

Hermione looked at Harry and crossed her arms, wearing an expression that plainly said, ‘I told you
so’.

“A bit, yeah,” he replied.

“Listen, it’s late,” Molly said, her motherly instincts kicking into gear. “Why don’t you all go to
bed, and we can have a nice long discussion in the morning?”

“As long as it’s not too early in the morning,” Ron replied. “We were all up much earlier than the
sane people this morning.” This caused a collective chuckle from the people in the room, and Harry,
Hermione, and Ron bid their goodnights to the elder Weasleys and set off for the upper floors of
the house.

“Well, I’ll see you two tomorrow,” Ron said, trying to stifle a yawn. “Don’t stay up *too*
late now, you hear?” he added with a wink.

“Yes, Father,” Harry replied sarcastically. Ron smiled and waved goodnight to them, before floating
through the door to his room. Harry looked over at his fiancee and couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” Hermione asked, smiling shyly.

“I really love you, you know,” he replied.

“I love you too, Harry, but why–” Harry quickly cut her off by pressing his lips to hers in a
passionate kiss. He pulled away a moment later, his eyes full of only love for her.

“I believe you have a promise to keep,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

“Y-yes?” Hermione asked, slightly breathless and lightheaded from the kiss.

“One that you made before we left tonight?” Harry grinned and in one swift move, picked her clean
up off the ground, cradling her body in his arms.

“Harry!” Hermione squealed, but couldn’t help laughing as Harry carried her up the flight of stairs
to the floor their room was on. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you across the threshold,” he said with a smile as he reached the door to their room and
kicked it open.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait to do that until the night after we’re married?” Hermione asked as he
sidled into the room sideways, before closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Am I?” he asked with a mischievous grin. “Well, too late now.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Hermione replied, beginning to unbutton her blouse.

“Stop,” Harry whispered, gently grabbing her arm. “That’s my job.”

And with a wave of his hand the lights turned off.

=====

*“Wormtail has been captured, master,” a voice from behind Harry said meekly.

“I am aware,” Harry replied. “I should not have sent him tonight.”

“Yes, my lord.” Harry turned around slowly and faced the man, who was kneeling on the floor with
his head bent, his identity hidden by the pitch black robes he wore.

“You dare to say that Lord Voldemort was wrong, Rodolphus?” Harry breathed, so softly it was almost
inaudible.

“No!” the man called Rodolphus screamed, terrified. “I would never disagree with you, sire.” Harry
considered the man carefully.

“Hmm, perhaps the only answer you could have given to spare your life,” Harry said. The man let out
a soft sigh of relief. “But it shall not spare you from pain. CRUCIO!”

The man’s screams shattered the dull, quiet atmosphere surrounding the room as his limbs bent back
in upon his body. Harry held the curse for a few seconds, then released the man.

“I have no need for a ‘yes’ man,” Harry said. “But be more careful with your words,
Lestrange.”

“Yes, master.”

“I have a task for you.”

“What is your bidding?” Harry smiled.

“I need you to deliver instructions to our spy in the Ministry,” he said. “You are to relate that
Wormtail’s trial must delayed, no matter the cost. Since our agent is in a position of information
and power, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Is there anything else, master?” Rodolphus asked.

“Yes...” Harry hissed. “Summon Narcissa.”

“Yes, lord,” the man backed out of the room, and closed the double doors behind him. Harry looked
around, and only then did he notice his surroundings.

The walls were a deep green, along with the carpet on the floor. A purple fire was blazing in the
fireplace. A silver serpentine chandelier was hanging from the ceiling, its candles lit and also
giving off a purple flame. There was a single wooden chair in the middle of the room, which Harry
sat down upon. Aside from that, the room was barren. A soft knocking at the door broke the
silence.

“Enter,” Harry hissed. The door opened and Narcissa Malfoy walked in.

“You summoned me, my lord?” she asked, kneeling. Harry grinned.

“I am in need of a woman’s body,” he said, with a revolting smile.

“Of course, my lord,” replied Narcissa, who bowed.
* “AHHH!”

Harry bolted upright in bed, eyes wide and panting hard.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, waking. “Another nightmare?”

“No,” he replied, still hyperventilating. “I...it was a vision.” Hermione sat up in bed at hearing
this.

“You were Voldemort?” she asked evenly.

“Yeah,” replied Harry. “I should try to contact Dumbledore.”

“Okay,” said Hermione, getting out of bed, and picking up the clothes that were strewn about on the
floor.

“Are you coming?” Harry asked, turning so that his legs were hanging off the side of the
four-poster.

“Of course,” she replied, throwing her bra on and fastening it. “I’m not letting you go looking for
Dumbledore by yourself, *especially* just after you’ve had a vision.” Harry nodded, and they
each got dressed in silence. A few minutes later they were walking down the stairs to the basement
kitchen, and found to their surprise when they arrived that Dumbledore was there talking to
Remus.

“Professor,” Harry said, trying to interrupt their conversation as politely as he could.

“Ah, Harry,” Dumbledore said as Harry and Hermione walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the
table. “What ails you so that you must be up so early in the morning?”

“It’s morning already?” Harry asked, and saw to his dismay that technically it was; the clock on
the wall read 2:55. Dumbledore and Remus smiled. “I had another vision.” The headmaster nodded
calmly, and took a seat, while Remus merely had a worried expression on his face and kept
standing.

“What happened?” Dumbledore asked.

Over the course of the next half hour, Harry related the events of what happened in his dream,
while Remus and Hermione looked on, occasionally asking questions to help fill in the blanks.

“And then,” Harry gulped. “He summoned Narcissa because he was ‘in need of a woman’s body’,” he
finished with a shiver, which caused Remus and Hermione to scrunch up their faces in disgust.

“I see,” Dumbledore said. “This is most disturbing news indeed.”

“Which part?” groaned Remus.

“A spy in the ministry could prove extremely dangerous for us,” the headmaster said. “We must be on
constant alert for anything out of the ordinary, especially from newly hired people.”

“Right,” agreed Harry.

“For right now, we must concentrate on two things. The first is to make sure the security around
Peter is increased. If Lord Voldemort wants his trial delayed, then he will probably try to break
him out of custody.” The other three people in the room nodded.

“And the second?” Harry asked.

“We must all be extra cautious,” Dumbledore said. “If there is a spy running around, then we cannot
talk about Order business outside of this house, no matter how private you think the area where you
are speaking is.” Again, Harry, Hermione, and Remus nodded, and Hermione gave a huge yawn.

“I think perhaps you two should get back to bed,” Remus said. “You don’t want to sleep in and then
have trouble falling asleep tomorrow night.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Well, you *do* have a little thing called training to attend,” Remus replied, causing Harry’s
and Hermione’s eyes to widen.

“That’s right!” Hermione exclaimed, slapping her hand to her forehead. “The day after tomorrow –
well, technically tomorrow is the 20th!”

“Right, now get off to bed you two,” Remus said, shooing them out of the kitchen.

“Hey! Watch it,” Harry grinned. “Or I’ll get that advanced charms book my mom gave Hermione and
find a good spell to turn your ears green for a week.” Remus’ brow furrowed.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

‘He doesn’t remember that,’ Hermione said to Harry silently.

‘Right,’ he replied in his head. ‘Memory charm.’ Hermione nodded.

“Harry?” Remus asked.

“Sorry, don’t worry about it,” Harry said in a dismissive voice. “We’ll just be off now.” With that
he and Hermione left the room. Remus turned around and faced Albus with a confused face.

“I know they went back in time,” he said. “But did Lily really give Hermione an advanced charms
book?”

“Indeed she did,” Dumbledore replied, his twinkle shining brightly behind his half-moon spectacles.
Remus could only smile and shake his head before resuming his earlier conversation with the
headmaster.

Upstairs, Harry and Hermione were lying awake in bed, Harry staring at the ceiling, while Hermione
was staring at him.

“Harry?” she asked. “What’s the matter?”

“I dunno,” Harry replied. “I guess I just kind of wish I could talk to Remus about all the things
we did in the past with him. With my parents.”

“I understand,” Hermione said.

“I just wish there was some way to reverse a memory charm!” Harry growled. “Merlin, it’d be so much
easier than ‘crucioing’ the person until they remembered.”

“Well, you know,” Hermione said, with a thoughtful twinkle in her eye not unlike Dumbledore’s.
“There is always that option.”

“What option?” Harry asked. Hermione looked past him and nodded in the direction of the dresser.
Confused, Harry turned to look. “I don’t get it. What’s the dresser got to do with anything?”

“You are really daft sometimes, you know that?” Hermione asked.

“Um...” Harry thought. Then it hit him and his eyes bulged out. “Ohhhhhhhhhh.” Silently, he got out
of bed and grabbed his wand from the nightstand before walking over to the dresser. Crouching down,
he waved his wand in a series of complex motions before a clicking sound was heard, and he opened
the bottom drawer. “You do remember what happened the last time we used this, right?” he asked,
pulling a dusty old tome out.

“I think creating a spell to reverse a memory charm is a little more simple than creating a spell
that accidentally sends one back in time,” Hermione said as Harry walked back over to the bed and
sat down on it, placing the book next to him.

“The Tome of the Spellmaker,” he said, leafing through the pages. “It seems like so long ago when
we made that charm.”

“Well, it was almost a year,” Hermione said, taking the book from him and closing it. “We don’t
need to worry about making a new spell tonight. It can wait for the morning.”

“It’s already morning,” Harry said with a smile.

“Later in the morning then,” Hermione replied, putting the book on the nightstand, along with
Harry’s wand. “For now, let’s just sleep.”

“Yeah...sleep.”

And for the first time in a month, Harry dreamed not of nightmares, and death and destruction. He
dreamt of his parents and Sirius.

---------------

I know, I know, this chapter is EXCEPTIONALLY short, but I had one less day to work on it, so
forgive me. I promise you all that Harry and Hermione’s training will start next chapter. Three
chapters for one day and a little is a lot, I understand. Once training starts, the story will move
much faster. Until next week, then!



4. The Prodigal Students
------------------------

Sickness overcame me exactly on Christmas Day...oh well, I really don’t care much for the
holidays anyway. As always, I really appreciate the reviews, and as Dec. 31 draws nearer, I cross
my fingers to see if The Path Ahead makes the final cut in the Reader’s Choice Awards. Also, as an
added incentive to some people (and I know I’m just being a glutton for punishment right here), I’m
going to start trying to reply to all the reviews people give me. Mind you that’s on Portkey only,
if there’s a way to respond to reviews on FF, I haven’t figured it out yet. I feel that
author/reader interaction is a great part of the world of fandom, and as a fairly avid fic reader
myself, I love hearing from the authors. Hey, if Heaven and Amynoelle can do it...

That being said, I would like to give my condolences to the people who have been affected by the
enormous natural disaster on the other side of the world, either directly or relatively. I wish you
all the best of luck.

---------------

Chapter 4: The Prodigal Students

As it turned out, much to Harry’s dismay, he and Hermione were not able to create a new spell to
reverse the effects of a memory charm themselves. Hermione had pointed out that if either of them
were to draw the magic from their own bodies, they would be rendered unconscious for slightly more
than 24 hours, and with their auror training set to begin the next day, that would prove to be a
problem. So it was with their fingers crossed and slightly guilty consciences that the two of them
sought out Dumbledore with their request. As they had the night before (or hours before), they
found him in the basement kitchen, though this time he was alone and sipping on a mug of hot cocoa
while reading the Daily Prophet at the table.

“Good morning,” he said, peering above his half-moon spectacles. “How are you both doing on such a
beautiful morning?”

“Erm...rather well,” Harry said hesitantly. The headmaster’s overly cheerful mood was somewhat
disconcerting in an ironical way.

“We...um...we have a favor we’d like to ask,” Hermione said, somewhat awkwardly. Dumbledore
exchanged a glance with each of them.

“Well perhaps you could tell me what the favor is,” he said about a minute later with his trademark
twinkle. “Although I am a sufficient legillimens, I doubt either of you would appreciate such a
probing this early in the day for the simple purpose of my finding out what is on your minds.” He
finished this last bit with a broad grin.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking,” Harry said. “What has got you in such a good mood today?”

“Ah, well perhaps this could answer your question, Harry,” Dumbledore said, waving his hand. The
Daily Prophet he had been reading hovered off the table and zoomed into Harry’s chest, startling
him. He did a double take upon reading the headline.

**CONVICTED MURDERER TO BE POSTHUMOUSLY AWARDED ORDER OF MERLIN**

“My God...” breathed Harry, he mouth slightly agape.

“Harry, what is it?” Hermione asked. He turned the paper so that she could see the headline, and
her eyes promptly became round as dinner plates. She took the paper from a still-shocked Harry and
began to read aloud.

*“Sirius Black, escaped convict of Azkaban and supposed murderer of thirteen, was officially
pardoned by a majority decision of the Wizengamot and Minister of Magic Percy Weasley. According to
officials, the decision was quickly reached after...Continued on Page 6”*

Hermione quickly leafed through the pages until she got to the relevant one, where Harry, who was
now looking over her shoulder, did his second double take of the morning as two very large and
hideous pictures of Peter Pettigrew were staring back at him.

*“...Peter Pettigrew, who was believed to be dead, was captured by ex-auror Alastor Moody last
evening after a skirmish at Angelo’s, an upper-class restaurant. The battle was started by known
death eaters, all of whom were also captured. Two aurors were already on the scene when the chaos
started, and reports have it that Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter were also present and helped
ensure that no one was seriously injured.”*

“They don’t even mention you,” Harry grumbled, but Hermione quickly waved him off as she kept
reading.

*“Under the influence of Veritaserum, Pettigrew admitted to the crime of murdering twelve
muggles, which many had believed was the work of Sirius Black. Black was killed in a death eater
battle two years ago, although it was believed he was fighting for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the
time.”

“‘It is my decision, along with many member of the Wizengamot, that Sirius Black be cleared of all
charges and awarded Order of Merlin, First Class, for so selflessly giving his life for the good of
wizard-kind,’ Minister Weasley said, when asked for comment. ‘It is regrettable that an innocent
man was forced to spend more than a decade of his life entombed in Azkaban, but I would like to
assure the general public that, although Azkaban is no longer in use, Pettigrew will spend the rest
of his days behind metal bars.’

An official ceremony will be held on July 2nd to present the heir to the estate of Sirius Black his
official pardon and Order of Merlin, in an undisclosed location.”*

Harry looked up at Dumbledore with shining eyes, only to find the headmaster grinning determinedly
at the ceiling.

“How much did you have to do with this?” he asked, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Not as much as you might think,” Dumbledore replied, taking a sip of his cocoa. “It was actually
Percy’s idea.”

“Percy?” both Harry and Hermione replied simultaneously.

“Percy,” the headmaster reaffirmed. “Honestly seemed to think it was the right course of action.
Not that I’m saying it isn’t, of course.”

“But...why would Percy do something like that?” Harry asked. “I mean, he knows that the only people
left who were connected to Sirius are myself and Remus.”

“I’m not entirely sure he *does* know that,” Dumbledore replied. “As you might recall, Ronald
didn’t relate the story of your third year to anyone except for Ginny and the twins.”

“He didn’t?” Hermione asked. The aged-wizard shook his head.

“You might remember, Hermione, the surprise of Molly when Sirius transformed into a human at
Harry’s bedside after Voldemort’s rebirth.”

Harry and Hermione shrugged and nodded.

“I assume, Harry, that you will be present for the ceremony?” Dumbledore asked.

“Wouldn’t be much of an heir if I didn’t show up for my benefactor’s Order of Merlin presentation,”
Harry replied jokingly.

“Good, good,” the headmaster replied. “Now what was that favor you wanted to ask of me?”

“Oh...right,” Hermione said hesitantly. “We...er, we want to make a new spell.” Albus peered at
them over the top of his spectacles after this.

“Even after what happened last time?” he asked, seriously.

“Even after what happened last time,” Harry replied. “I......*we* want to make a spell that’ll
undo the effects of a memory charm.”

Dumbledore sighed and flicked his wand, only to be met with the Tome of the Spellmaker come
whizzing into the room ten seconds later. Muttering, he leafed through the book until he got to a
section that contained some very ancient runes, and from the look on Hermione’s face, she didn’t
know what they were.

“Theoretically,” he said after reading a couple of pages. “It’s possible. However, the spell would
be so complex, whoever created it would likely be unconscious for more than two days, and you two
have training tomorrow.”

“Yeah...about that...” Harry said. “We....er...were kinda hoping you could do it for us.”
Dumbledore looked at him carefully.

“Why, exactly, do you want to create this?” he asked, looking truly curious.

“We, um....we wanted to be able to talk with Remus about...the past,” Hermione said, shuffling her
feet. The headmaster’s expression softened a little, and a sad smile appeared on his face.

“A most honorable cause,” he said. “But I’m afraid I cannot do this for you.” Harry, while
expecting this, couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

“I understand sir,” he said, defeated. “Thanks anyway.”

“Of course, Harry.”

Harry and Hermione were about to turn around and leave when a knock at the door made them
stop.

“Come in,” she called, and the door opened to reveal the Weasley Twins, who were looking slightly
embarrassed.

“Er, thanks,” said George, taking a seat at the table.

“What’s up?” Harry asked.

“Well...um...we kind of overheard what you guys were talking about,” Fred admitted, turning
slightly red. “We don’t have a problem if you want to use either of us.”

“Guys, I can’t ask that of you,” Harry said. “You already threw me and Hermione a huge party, which
got crashed by a dozen death eaters, which I still need to pay you back for.”

“Bollocks, Harry,” George said. “You’re not paying for anything. The owner’s quite skilled with
magic you see, so once everyone was gone she just up and ‘reparo-ed’ everything that was broken. No
financial damage.”

“Fine, but you’ve still done more than you need to.”

“On the contrary,” Fred interjected. “We’ve not done nearly enough. If it weren’t for you, we’d
have had to stay at school under that foul Umbridge creature, and get respectable jobs after we’d
left. You’ve done more for us than you know.” Harry couldn’t help but give a frustrated sigh and he
ran his hands through his hair.

“You’re absolutely sure you don’t have a problem with this?” he asked, frowning.

“Not a one,” the twins said in unison. Harry glanced at Dumbledore who was watching the exchange in
silence, and the headmaster nodded once. He turned to look at Hermione, and she looked back at him
with a sad smile and shrugged.

“If they don’t mind,” she said. “Then I don’t see why not.” Harry gave one last sigh before turning
to the twins.

“Might as well then,” he acquiesced. “We...er, aren’t going to need to brew the potion again, are
we?”

“I don’t think so,” Hermione said, walking over to the pantry and retrieving a vial filled with a
white liquid from the top shelf. “It doesn’t matter that it’s your blood, I’ll daresay it’s more
potent than anyone else’s. Except for maybe yours, of course, Professor.”

“No, I think your first assumption was correct,” Dumbledore said with a smile.

“Well let’s get to it then!” Fred exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “What do we do?”

“Just sit tight for a while,” Harry said. “We’ve got to write everything down first and figure out
an incantation.”

“You two need to decide which of you is going to be passed out for two days,” Hermione said,
pointing at the twins.

“Let us begin, then,” Dumbledore said.

=====

Everyone living in the house made an appearance at some point during the day, giving their
greetings before taking some breakfast prepared in portable dishes by Dobby into other parts of the
house to eat.

Five hours later everything was ready. It had taken a little longer than usual due to the
complexity of the spell. Dumbledore had explained that merely writing ‘Undo effects of the memory
charm’ in the tome wouldn’t suffice. So they had spent several hours debating on how a Memory Charm
actually worked, and how a spell could go about fixing it.

Fred and George found a suitable solution with the help of Ginny, who had decided she wanted to
stay and help. She had pointed out that since a memory charm locks away memories in the brain with
a special magical seal, the most likely solution would be to create a spell that ‘removed the
seals’ and would let the locked memories free again.

Finally everything was written down, and the Memory-Restoration Charm (with an incantation of
‘*restuto!*’) was ready to be created.

“So what do I have to do?” Fred asked (he had drawn the short straw). Hermione handed him the vial
of potion.

“Take a seat on the floor, and drink,” she commanded.

“Why do I have to sit on the floor?” Fred inquired, although he was already sitting on the hard
stone as he spoke.

“Because when Harry did this the last time, his body started to spasm,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Harry added, seeing Fred’s eyes widen slightly. “It’s a little weird, but it stops
quickly.” Fred took a breath and nodded.

“Well, here’s to you, mate,” he said, uncorking the small glass container. He drained the contents
in one gulp and gave a shiver. Sure enough, he started shaking fairly badly a few seconds later,
only to have them cease a few moments after.

“Brrr,” said Fred shivering as he stood. “That felt downright strange.”

“Wait until you actually make the spell,” Harry said with a grin.

“You know, Harry, you’re starting to make me wonder if agreeing to do this was such a good idea,”
Fred said skeptically.

“You’re the one who volunteered for the job,” Ginny pointed out. “And besides, Harry’s fine now,
aren’t you Harry?” The subject of her argument nodded.

“All right, all right!” Fred grumbled. “What do I do?”

“Put the tip of your wand on ‘Memory-Restoration Charm’ and say, ‘Magus Erogo’,” Hermione said in
her best McGonagal tone of voice. Fred nodded and taking a deep breath, put the tip of his wand on
the title of the new spell.

“Here goes nothing,” he said with the best Weasley twin smile he could manage. “Magus Erogo!”

Just like a year before, a red glow started to emanate from his body after he said the words. The
glow funneled down Fred’s right arm and onto the words on the page, which glowed white briefly,
before turning back to black, whereupon Fred promptly fainted.

“Seems to have worked,” Ginny said, bending down to check her brother’s pulse. “He seems
fine.”

“I’ll go and carry him up to our room then,” George said, brandishing his wand and waving it
elegantly, which made Fred’s body float into the air. “See you all later then.” Ginny opened the
door and Fred floated out through it, followed by George, who, in a fashion that reminded Harry
greatly of Sirius, was letting his twin’s head bump the ceiling occasionally as they progressed
down the hall to the stairs.

“When will we be able to test this to see if it works?” Harry asked, turning to face his
mentor.

“Well, I myself haven’t been memory charmed,” Dumbledore said. “But I do believe, that if you send
Remus an owl, he will be more than glad to oblige.” He looked at his infamous twelve-handed watch
and frowned slightly. “I’m afraid that I must be off,” he said. “Ginny, perhaps you could fetch Ron
for me?”

If Ginny was surprised or confused, she hid it well as she drew her wand and said, “Sonorus,” while
pointing it at her throat. “RON! KITCHEN!” she bellowed, causing Harry and Hermione to jump while
Dumbledore simple smiled and twinkled away. Moments later there was a flurry of steps and the
basement door was thrown open by a red-faced Molly Weasley.

“How. Many. Times. Do. I. Have. To. Tell. You. All. To. Not. Communicate. Like. That. INDOORS?!”
she screeched.

“Sorry, mum,” Ginny said sheepishly. “But Professor Dumbledore asked me to call Ron, so I
did.”

Molly stood there with her mouth opening and closing as if trying to find some way to yell at the
headmaster, who was staring at a point on the ceiling, expecting Ron to float down through
it.

“Well fine!” she huffed. “But don’t do it again.” She walked away muttering something that sounded
vaguely like ‘could wake up the dead with that voice....’

“Someone call?” Ron asked as he floated down through the ceiling and into a chair at the
table.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said. “It’s time to go.”

“Already?” the ghost asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“I’m afraid so,” the headmaster replied.

“Where are you two going?” Harry asked.

“Ghost meeting,” Ron replied. “After all, I didn’t fare so well on my own last time.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, slightly surprised. “Well, good luck then.”

“You too,” Ron said. “Don’t let Moody work you too hard.” Harry scoffed.

“Somehow I think that’s unavoidable,” he deadpanned. Ron smiled and Dumbledore held out a small
snow globe for him to touch.

“Well, see you guys around, then,” the ghost said, and passed his hand through the globe, which
promptly whisked both him and Dumbledore away.

“Well, I’m going to go write Remus that owl,” Harry said.

“I’ll come with you,” Hermione said.

“Okay, see you later Ginny,” Harry called out as they left the kitchen.

“Bye, guys,” the red head called back.

Harry and Hermione walked up to the third floor and Harry opened the door to their room. He had
taken two steps inside when he heard Hermione slam the door shut and turned around to find his
fiancee leaning against the door with a very sultry expression on her face.

“I should’ve known you didn’t want to come up here to help with the letter,” Harry chuckled.

“Are you suggesting that I have ulterior motives?” Hermione asked in a low voice. Harry grinned
mischievously and walked over to her, quickly pinning her against the door with his body.

“Yeah, I think I am,” he replied in a husky voice.

“I suppose you’ll have to punish me then?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“That’s putting it very, very, mildly,” he smirked before his lips descended on hers.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Since there were no parties to attend, or death eaters to
capture, Harry and Hermione stayed in bed for the entire afternoon, save a trip to the shower,
which they shared. Finally, around eight at night, after being served dinner in bed by Dobby, Harry
insisted that he get the letter to Remus written. Upon completing it, he gave it to Hedwig who
nipped at his hand affectionately before flying out the window into the starry night sky.

“Now then,” Harry said, turning around to look at a grinning Hermione who was covered only by the
sheets on the bed. “Where were we?”

=====

*‘BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP’*

“What in the bloody hell?” Harry asked groggily as he searched for the source of the noise.

*‘BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP’*

After a minute of frustrated struggling, he managed to shut off the alarm clock and sit up in
bed.

“Hey, Hermione, wake up,” he mumbled. “We’ve got to get ready for training.”

“Already?” she asked into the pillow.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with a yawn. “And I had almost gotten used to sleeping in.”

“Never get used to that,” Hermione replied, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Because
you never *do* get to always sleep in.”

“Fair enough,” Harry replied, throwing on a plain white shirt. They each got dressed in silence,
too tired to talk to each other, either aloud or telepathically.

“Well, let’s go downstairs and have some breakfast,” Hermione said, putting on her black
robes.

“I want to go and see how Fred’s doing first,” he said, stepping out into the hallway. They walked
down to the twins room and knocked lightly.

“Come in,” George’s voice called through the door. They entered to find George sitting at the desk,
going over what looked to be order forms for the business. He smiled when he saw who had come in.
“How’re you guys doing?”

“Pretty good, a little tired perhaps,” Hermione replied. “How’s Fred?”

“Sleeping like a Weasley,” George replied with a chuckle, looking over his shoulder at his twin who
was snoring on the bed.

“Glad to hear that he’s doing fine,” Harry said. “Well, we just wanted to stop in and check on him,
got auror training to get to.”

“Good luck,” George said with a smile. “I’m sure you two’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” Harry chuckled as he and Hermione left the room. They arrived down in the basement
kitchen to find Hermione’s parents sitting there, David reading the Daily Prophet, Emma conversing
with Dobby.

“Ah, morning, you two!” David said, putting down the paper. “This came for you.” He handed them an
official looking envelope, which Harry tore open, only to find a quill and a small note.

*This is your portkey to take you to training. It will activate upon both of you touching it.
Remember, bring only your wands.

-A. Moody*

“Well that answers that question,” Hermione said, sitting down at the table and helping herself to
toast and marmalade jelly. “I was afraid we’d have to fly to get there.”

“You mean you’d have actually gotten a broom if it was our only way there?” Harry asked, looking at
her incredulously.

“I’m not above flying you know,” Hermione said, slightly affronted. “Nor is this job. I’ll probably
have to learn to do it anyway before training’s over.”

“I think that’s very mature of you, dear,” Emma Granger said as Dobby trotted off into the kitchen.
“She was always terrified whenever we flew on airplanes anywhere,” she said to Harry.

“Well, really,” Hermione huffed. “Is it so unnatural to be afraid of heights?”

“Of course not,” David said. “Oh, I was wondering, have either of you seen Draco lately? I’ve been
meaning to ask him something I read in the paper about goblin jewelry a day or two ago.”

“Come to think of it, no, I haven’t,” Harry said. “Last time I saw him was when he flooed here and
went right up to his room.”

“M-master Draco has been at the Ministry a lot lately,” Dobby said softly from the oven. “He has
only been home for a few hours each day. Miss Weasley has been very upset at this.”

“I’ll bet she has,” Harry muttered with a smile.

“I wonder what’s taking up so much of his time at work?” Hermione wondered aloud.

“No idea,” Harry replied, draining his coffee. “Well come on, we don’t want to be late on our first
day.”

“Too right,” Hermione said, standing up and giving each of her parents a quick kiss on the cheek.
“We should be home by supper time, I hope.”

“Well, if you’re not, we won’t worry,” Emma said, standing up and giving Harry a hug. “See you
tonight.”

“Bye, Mum, Dad,” Hermione said as Harry picked up the quill and held it out for her to touch. The
moment she did, they were both whisked away, leaving a smiling David and Emma Granger in the
kitchen with Dobby and his cooking.

Harry and Hermione landed with a thud against the marble floor, and looked around at where they
were. Harry hadn’t ever been in this part of the Ministry before, although he could definitely tell
that they were somewhere on the ground floor. Natural sunlight was pouring in through the windows
and several portraits of past Ministers were peering out through their frames at the new arrivals.
There were chairs lining the walls, and a reception desk in front of them where a man was hunched
over talking to the person behind it.

“Well, let’s take a seat then,” Harry said, walking over to the chairs with Hermione and sitting
down. They waited for a moment for the wizard at the desk to leave, but when he did, Harry couldn’t
help but shout out.

“Remus!” he called, waving his hand. The man turned around, and upon seeing Harry and Hermione
smiled and started walking towards them.

“How are you two?” he asked. “All set to start your training?”

“Of course,” Hermione replied with a smug smile.

“Did you get my letter?” Harry asked.

“Indeed I did,” Remus answered. “How about I come home with you two tonight and we can talk about
it after dinner?”

“That sounds great – wait, since when do you work here?” Harry asked.

“Since today,” Remus replied with a smile. “I applied about a week ago for a vacant position in the
Department of Inter-Species Relations, and they hired me. Between you and me, I think Dumbledore
had something to do with it.”

“Congratulations!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Thanks, but I must be off to my office,” Remus said, with a proud smile. “Meet back here at say,
oh, six?”

“Will we be done by then?” Harry asked.

“Oh, you should be,” Remus replied. “Moody isn’t supposed to work you for more than eight hours in
a day.”

“Here at six it is then,” Hermione replied. “Good luck, Remus.”

“You too,” he called as he walked through a door on the left hand side of the reception desk. Harry
and Hermione now stepped up to the desk and saw that a fairly pretty blond woman was standing
behind it rummaging through a desk. She looked to be in her early thirties, and her hair reminded
Harry distinctly of Fleur Delacour, although with less platinum. She was wearing long, flowing
green robes, and gold earrings. None of this compared to her eyes though, which were a clean,
shining silver that reflected like almost like a watch.

“Er...hi,” Harry said. “We’re here for auror training?”

“Oh,” she said turning to face them. “Sorry, I’m not the receptionist.”

“You’re not?” Hermione asked. “I thought you were just talking to Remus.”

“I was,” the woman replied. “I’m the one who hired him. Rose McClellan, Senior Assistant to
Minister Weasley,” she said, extending her hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said, shaking her hand, which Hermione also did. “We don’t exactly know
where to go.”

“So you’re Harry Potter and Hermione Granger?” she asked.

“Hermione Potter,” Hermione corrected, shifting so that her engagement ring could be seen.

“Harry and Hermione Potter then,” Rose replied with a small smile. “I think Alastor will be up
shortly. From what Remus has told me, he likes to surprise his new students.”

“He’s taught before?” Harry asked.

“Oh yes,” Rose said. “Before he retired he was head of the training division. One of the most
brilliant in the Ministry. Of course, I was working as a grunt in foreign relations then, so I
can’t tell you much about that.”

“Oh, well, ok,” Hermione said. “It was nice to meet you, Rose.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she replied. “Looks like your trainer’s here,” she added, nodding at a
point behind them. Harry and Hermione turned around to see Moody standing there, his wand drawn and
pointed at Harry.

“Thanks for blowing my cover, McClellan,” he growled, putting his wand away.

“Anytime, Alastor.”

“Come on, you two, we’ve got a lot of work that needs doing.” Harry waved goodbye to Rose who
resumed searching through one of the drawers for something. Moody let them through the same door
Remus had gone through and Harry found himself next to the lift near the Fountain of Magical
Brethren.

“C’mon, in you get,” Moody growled as he poked Harry in the back to get him to step into the
elevator. The door clanged shut and they rode down to the second floor where the doors opened to
reveal Kingsley Shacklebolt waiting for them.

“Ah, Alastor,” he said. “Harry, Hermione, good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Kingsley,” Harry said.

“Room Four is open to you right now,” he said to Moody. “Don’t push them too hard now, you
hear?”

“I’ll push as hard as it takes to get them ready,” the old man growled. “Let’s go.”

Moody’s peg leg clunked along the marble floor as they walked through the office. Wizards were
working in cubicles that were packed into the area, while little purple paper-airplane memos were
flying all around near the ceiling. They walked to the very back of the room they were in and Moody
took a key from his belt and put it in the lock on the door that had materialised in the wall in
front of them.

“Kinda handy,” Moody said, taking two keys from his belt and handing one to each of them. “Door
only shows itself if you’re supposed to be inside.”

“Why?” asked Hermione as their training opened the door and led them inside a long dark hallway
lined with doors.

“Because you can get to the Department of Mysteries from here,” Moody said, opening the first door
on the left. “We’ll be training in here, though.”

“How come you gave us keys?” Harry asked.

“Well I can’t be coming up to the top floor every day, now can I?” he asked with a gnarled smile.
“We’ll be in here until Kingsley needs this room for someone else.”

“What else are these rooms used for?” Harry asked.

“Prisoners, mos’ of the time,” Moody replied. Immediately an image of Wormtail flashed through
Harry’s mind. “And don’t you go gettin’ ideas about him,” he added, seeming to have read Harry’s
mind.

“You’re a legillimens?” Harry asked. Moody nodded.

“And a damn good one too,” he said. “Much better than that professor of yours. Oh, and speakin’ of
him, you remember how I said we couldn’t find anyone to do your potions training, right?” Harry’s
jaw dropped.

“Oh please me tell you’re not serious,” he said, and he could feel Hermione’s apprehension in his
mind as he said it.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” Moody asked. “I thought you made up with him, besides.”

“Well, I kinda did,” Harry said. “But with Snape, one never knows, do they?” Moody chuckled.

“I s’pose not.”

“Well, er...then what will you be training us in today?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t be so formal, Granger,” Moody growled.

“Er...what are we learning?” she revised.

“A little better, but still needs some work,” the old auror said. “Well, you two don’t really need
any training in dueling, you’ve both had more experience with that than a lot of the aurors that
are on the force today.”

“So, what then?” Harry asked. A thin, crooked smile appeared on Moody’s face.

“You’ll find,” he said. “That when you’re in the auror business, people don’t really trust you
much.” Harry had a feeling where this was going.

“What does that mean, Professor?” Hermione asked. Moody shot her a glare and she reddened slightly.
“So?” she corrected herself.

“Better,” her teacher said. “Gotta learn how to speak all different kinds of dialects, if you’re
gonna be an auror, Granger. Glad to see you pick up on it quick.”

“Thanks.”

“You were saying, sir?” Harry asked.

“Right,” Moody said. “First rule of being an auror: If you’re with someone who doesn’t trust you,
you can be damn sure they’re gonna be able to read your mind. From what Dumbledore’s told me, you
already have some experience in this Potter, and Granger, you’ve read a couple books on it, so it
shouldn’t take very long to learn.”

“Sir, are you going to train us to be occlumens and legillimens?” Hermione asked. A sadistic smile
appeared on Moody’s face.

“You are quite correct.”

Training was going to be much more unpleasant for Harry than he thought.

---------------

Thar’ you have it. It’s a bit longer, because I had more stuff to cover in this one, but I’m sure
you won’t complain. Again, I’d like to remind everyone that I’m going to start replying to reviews,
so hopefully that will be an added incentive for everyone to help boost up my numbers ;) ;)

You can tune in next week, same time, same channel, for another chapter of my fanfic.
Ciao!



5. Reminiscing with Remus
-------------------------

Okay, so the responding to the reviews, hasn’t gone badly...yet. I’m pleased with the overall
response to last chapter, most of you seemed to enjoy it. I was skeptical while writing it, but I
suppose that can be a side effect of doing most of your writing twelve hours before you post
::blush::. Keep the reviews coming, and thanks to everyone who wished me happy holidays and a new
year. My resolution: write better fanfiction. And get into the New York Film Academy ;)

Two announcements for this chapter. The first, fluff is abound. I got back from seeing The Phantom
of the Opera movie (which is absolutely, unbelievably wonderful, by the way) and my fluff muse
kicked into overdrive. So just watch out for that.

Second, I finally understood the phrase ‘and it hit you like a sack of bricks’ this week. Some of
you may or may not know that I was nominated in three categories (Best New Author, Best Fic Fluff,
Best Novel Length, all H/Hr) for the Reader’s Choice Awards, and much to my amazement, I made the
final cut in all three. Even more surprising to me, I’m actually in close contention for the lead
in two of them, and winning the third. I cannot stress enough, how unbelievably flattered and taken
aback I am at this. When I first heard of the RCA’s, which was back in July right after I first
posted on PK, my goal was to get a simple nomination in the first round. Not make the cut, not be
in contention for a win. Just get a nomination. To know that you guys believe that my writing is
good enough to win, is just so overwhelming that I cannot express it in words.

Therefore, I dedicate this chapter to **every** person who has ever reviewed my stories and
given me words of praise and hope. Now I suppose, all that’s left is to cross my fingers and see if
I manage to win any awards. I have one final statement before the chapter begins. Vote for me!
::raises hands, gives thumbs up and large, toothy, smile::

---------------

Chapter 5: Reminiscing with Remus

“Again!” barked Moody, as Harry slowly rose from one knee to a standing position, his head
throbbing madly.

“Sir, perhaps you could let me try again?” Hermione asked, obviously partially feeling some of the
pain that Harry was going through, and wishing to relieve him of it.

“Not bloody likely,” their teacher replied, though he did conjure a class of water and handed it to
Harry. “The more punishment you can take now, the easier it’ll be later if you get captured.” Harry
took several large gulps before he threw the glass down, causing it to break.

“I’m ready,” he said in a hoarse voice. Moody nodded and raised his wand.

“Legillimens!” he bellowed.

Harry had already found out that his teacher’s claim of being a more accomplished Legillimens than
Snape was more than true. With Snape, it felt similar to a hard wind hitting him in the face as the
memories rushed from the depths of his mind. With Moody, it felt like someone had thrown a brick at
his forehead. He was, however, getting more adept at forcing only certain memories to surface to
his mind with each attack. Moody had explained it in a way that Harry felt Snape never would have
been able to.

“*I thought you’d done this before, Potter,” Moody growled, seemingly growing impatient.

“I’m a little rusty,” Harry said, getting to his feet, rubbing his temple.

“Snape never really did teach you much, did he?” Harry shook his head.

“Little that I could use, nothing that I could understand,” he replied while Hermione looked on
with sad eyes, having never really known what Harry had gone through in his fifth year.

“It’s a battle of wits,” Moody said, turning his back to his students and pacing the room, in a
style not unlike Dumbledore.

“How so?” Harry asked.

“Your mind, Potter!” Moody growled, whirling around to face him. “You’ve got to out-muscle your
attacker with your mind! You can break the Imperius Curse, this should be a walk in the park for
you.”

“Yeah but with the Imperius I have a little voice in my head helping me out,” Harry replied.
Hermione and Moody surveyed him carefully.

“Have you now?” his teacher asked. Harry nodded. “Whose?”

“Er...I’ve never really noticed,” he replied. “Why?” Moody raised his wand and pointed it at
Harry.

“Imperio!”

A familiar calmness that Harry hadn’t experienced since the end of his fourth year washed over him.
Inside his head, Moody’s voice was echoing, “lie down on the floor, lie down on the floor.” He felt
his knees start to bend, but another voice, this one much more firm fought its way into the
foreground.

“Now why on earth would you do something so utterly pointless like lying on the ground?”

Hermione’s voice...

And just like that it was over. The cloud lifted from his mind and he found himself staring
straight into Moody’s smiling face.

“So who was it?” he asked.

“Er...” Harry turned and glanced at Hermione who was absolutely beaming at him. “Hermione.”

“I guessed right, then,” Moody said. “I’ll have to tell Albus.”

“Why?” Harry asked, suddenly alarmed that he’d done something wrong.

“It’s not entirely usual to hear more than one voice in your head when under the Imperio Curse,”
Moody explained. “Trust me, I know.”

“Maybe when you heard it back in fourth year, it was just a premature version of the link,”
Hermione said. “But you couldn’t distinguish who it was because we hadn’t...er...” Hermione’s face
promptly turned beet red.

“I’ll leave the speculation to Dumbledore,” Moody growled. “He’s better at that stuff than I am.
Back to your training. Do you understand how to fight an attack on your mind, Potter?”

“Not really,” Harry said. “I don’t hear Hermione’s voice in my head telling me to repel you when
I’m under a Legillimancy attack.”

“Well how about that time your and Voldemort’s wands crossed and connected?” Moody asked.

“I had help,” Harry said, getting frustrated. “The phoenix song...it helped me.”

“How so?” Hermione asked.

“It told me not to break the connection,” he replied. “When the light hit Voldemort’s wand, the
memories of the people he’d killed came out and told me what to do.”

“Potter, what do you mean, ‘the phoenix song talked to you’?” Moody asked.

“Just that,” Harry said. “It was like it was speaking to me, the music, that is. Why?” Moody looked
contemplative for a moment before he shook it off.

“Just curious,” he said. “Now just imagine that all these people are helping you while I’m in your
mind.”

“It’s not entirely easy what with all my memories flying forward without any resistance,” Harry
replied.

“Well then create some resistance, damn it,” Moody growled, raising his wand. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry replied.*

That was how it had gone. Since then, Harry and Hermione had been stuck in the dingy room that was
only furnished with three metal chairs, and a squeaking lamp hanging from the ceiling. Many failed
attempts and four hours later, Harry was starting to make progress. He had managed to keep away
from the flow of memories long enough to regain his own thoughts, and stem the tide of images.
Hermione didn’t fare as well. She had trouble even keeping consciousness, let alone regaining
control of her mind. Moody wasn’t satisfied.

“You’re learning,” he growled at Harry. “But it’s going to take a long time before you’ll get to
the point that you need to be at.

“I suppose that’s high praise coming from you,” Harry said with a sarcastic smile.

“Yes, well. Your turn, Granger.”

Hermione stepped forward with a deep breath and a resigned look on her face, and nodded. Moody
raised his wand.

“Legillimens!”

Hermione’s face immediately started to show pressure from the forced entry into her mind. Just like
when he was under the spell and she was watching, Harry couldn’t hear or feel what was going on
inside of her head. It was over only a few seconds later. She collapsed to the ground,
hyperventilating, and he immediately rushed to her side, like every time before.

“I don’t know how you can do it,” she whispered as Harry helped her stand up and Moody handed her a
glass of water.

“I *can’t* do it,” he replied with a smile.

“You will eventually,” Moody said. “You’re both better than most of the people who have to learn
with no prior training. Usually they just pass out. It can take months for them to get it, because
you can only try once every few hours or so.” He said this last bit with a sadistic grin.

“I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky, then?” Hermione asked. Moody shrugged.

“Well we didn’t force you to join the auror program, after all,” he said with a crooked smile. He
pulled back the sleeve of his robe on his left arm and looked at a strange watch he had strapped
there. It was similar to a normal watch in that it had the usual numbers from one to twelve in the
normal spots, but along with an hour, minute, and second hand, there were three or four other ones
that were pointing to random spots on the watch. “Well,” he growled. “I think we’ve done enough for
today.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said.

“Oh you won’t be thanking me in a week or so,” Moody replied. “Don’t expect that I’m going to let
you out early every day.” Harry and Hermione nodded. “As for now, Dumbledore tells me that neither
of you can apparate. Is this true?”

“Yes, but I’ve read up on it and I think – ”

“That will suffice,” Moody said. “I want both of you to be able to apparate by the end of next
week. Study in your own time, don’t study at all, I don’t care. But by the Friday after next, I
want both of you to be able to disappear and appear somewhere else at your own whim. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” they both chorused.

“Good. Now go and relax.” Harry and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped out of the
dim-lit room into the hallway lined with doors. He couldn’t help but stop and remember what Moody
had said right before they started training.

“*What else are these rooms for?” Harry asked.

“Prisoners, mos’ of the time,” Moody replied.*

“Harry?” Hermione asked, sensing his thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” he replied after a moment.

“Budge up, you two, will ya?” Moody growled from behind them. “I ain’t got all day to stand around
here while you two contemplate life.”

“Is Pettigrew being held here?” Harry asked, stepping aside for Moody to walk by.

“Yeah,” his teacher replied. “Not telling you where though. ‘S not like you’d be able to get at him
anyway, the wards are so thick.” Harry’s expression hardened considerably at this. “Come on,
Potter,” Moody said, showing an uncharacteristic display of affection and putting his hand on
Harry’s shoulder. “Worry about him when the time comes to worry.”

“I’d say during a war is a pretty good time to worry,” Harry replied, as he, Hermione, and Moody
stepped out of the hallway and into main area of auror headquarters.

“You got more important things to be worryin’ about though, son,” Moody said. “I’ll see you
tomorrow.” With that Moody walked off to his left, into the vast expanse of cubicles packed into
the small space.

“Well, we’ve got about two hours before we have to meet Remus,” Harry said with a sigh. “Care to
check out the employees’ café?”

“Sure,” Hermione replied with a smile. “If you’re good, I’ll even treat you.”

“Don’t forget we share the same vault now,” Harry smiled as they stepped into the lift and pushed
the button labeled ‘Ground Floor’.

“We do...don’t we?” Hermione said with a mischievous grin, before leaning up and kissing Harry
soundly on the lips.

“Benefits of being engaged,” he replied, although it was fairly muffled.

“Speaking of which,” Hermione said as the doors to the lift clanged open and she pulled away. “We
need to set a date.”

“Hmm...you’re right,” Harry answered. “Hey, look.” He pointed to a tall man with red hair walking
across the lobby from them.

“Oh! Mr. Weasley!” Hermione said as loud as she could without shouting. The red-haired man turned
and his face lit up when he saw the two of them waiving and walking towards him.

“Harry! Hermione! Oh it’s great to see you,” he said giving each of them a quick hug. “How’s
training?”

“Exhausting,” Harry replied truthfully. “But Moody let us out early, it being our first day and
all.” Arthur laughed.

“Don’t expect that too often,” he said. “When Moody gets in one of his...well...moods,” they shared
a chuckle at this, “he can be a slave driver. When Tonks started training he was still in the auror
program, and she was all too glad to see him retire.”

“I’ll bet,” Harry replied with a smile. “We’re just off to the café. Can you tell us where it
is?”

“Right down the hall on your right,” Mr. Weasley replied. “Well I’d best be off. You two have a
good day.”

“And you,” Hermione replied as Arthur waved farewell.

“Well my dear,” Harry said in an imperious tone. “Shall I escort you to the restaurant?”

“You remember what happened the last time you did that, right?” Hermione said in a playful tone,
but immediately regretted it when she saw Harry’s face fall. “I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to
bring that up.”

“It’s okay,” he replied as they started walking. “Just tough for me to get over it.”

“At least you can admit it’s not your fault.”

They finished the walk in silence, and found when they reached their destination that the ‘café’
was actually a cozy little restaurant for luncheons and such.

“Can I get you two a table?” the witch behind the cashier’s desk asked.

“Um...sure,” Harry replied. The witch grabbed two menus and they walked over to a little booth
tucked away next to the wall.

“Give me a call as soon as you’re ready,” she said with a smile. Hermione opened a menu and started
scanning it.

“How about just tea?” she asked. “We’re having dinner with Remus in a little while.”

“Tea’s fine,” Harry replied, raising his hand to call over the waitress.

“So what can I get for you?” the waitress asked.

“Just tea for the both of us, please,” Harry said.

“Comin’ right up,” the waitress said, taking the menus and walking away.

“So, when did you have in mind?”

“Hmm?” Hermione asked.

“For the wedding.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know, did you have a preference?”

“I’d prefer it be sooner than later,” Harry replied. “I want the world to know that I’m the
luckiest guy in the world.”

“This coming from the Boy-Who-Lived,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Imagine where I’d be without you,” he said with a laugh.

“I’d rather not,” she said, reaching across the table and taking his hand. “Because then I’d be
without you, too.”

“Have I told you how much I love you today?” Harry asked. Hermione smiled and shook her head. “I
really, really love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

“So, about the wedding,” he said, straightening up as the waitress arrived with the tea.
“Thanks.”

“Not a problem, dear.”

“I was thinking,” Harry said as the waitress walked away. “The sooner the better.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Hermione replied with a beautiful smile that nearly made Harry’s heart
melt.

“But I’d like it to be at Hogwarts, if you don’t mind,” he said.

“I’m not against it,” Hermione said. “But how come?” Harry shrugged.

“I did call it my home for seven years,” he replied. “But if you’d rather get married in a church,
that’s okay.”

“Not at all, I just think it may be a problem for my parents, they being muggles and all.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Harry said. “I’m sure Dumbledore could find a way to lower the
Unplottable Charms around the castle so they could get inside.”

“Yeah, and speaking of Dumbledore, we need to get his approval,” Hermione added.

“We’ll ask him the next time he stops by headquarters,” Harry said. “But, if you don’t mind...I was
hoping for maybe early November.”

“Won’t everyone be in school?” she asked.

“Well, I’d like some of the teachers to attend, if possible,” Harry said. “And perhaps some of the
students who were a year below us in the DA.”

“Okay,” Hermione said flashing him that smile again. “Hogwarts in November.”

“To us,” Harry said, raising his cup.

“To us,” Hermione replied.

=====

Three-quarters of an hour later Harry and Hermione were walking down the hall arm in arm back
towards the lobby.

“We’ve still got a little over an hour,” Hermione said. “D’you want to go and say hi to
Remus?”

“Why not,” Harry replied with a grin. They walked over to the reception desk and were greeted by a
short, plump witch with dark gray hair. “Could you tell us which floor Remus Lupin is working on?”
he asked. The witch nodded and opened a file cabinet on her left, which she quickly scanned
through.

“Floor four,” she replied. “Just talk to the supervisor first, he can be a bit cranky some
times.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione as they walked over to the lift. The elevator ride passed in silence,
with the exception of the buzzing made by the inter-department memos zooming around their heads.
Finally the reached their destination and stepped out, coming face to face with a rather nasty
looking man with short silver hair. He seemed to be about six and a half feet tall, and overall was
rather menacing.

“Can I help you?” he asked in a snobbish tone.

“Er...we’re here to see Remus Lupin?” Harry asked politely. The man eyed them carefully before
nodding in a direction to their left.

“Ninth cubicle on the right,” he said. “And keep it down.” He stalked off before they had a chance
to respond.

“Not very sociable, is he?” Hermione asked as they walked down the aisleway.

“Not at all,” Harry replied as Remus became visible sitting in his cubicle, hunched over a piece of
parchment. Harry put his finger to his lips as a devilish glint shone in his eyes. Hermione only
shook her head and smiled. Grinning, Harry tiptoed up behind Remus and stuck his head over the
werewolf’s left shoulder.

“Boo.”

Remus nearly fell out of his chair at the surprise, which in turn caused Harry and Hermione to
laugh as the Marauder calmed himself enough to confront them.

“That wasn’t very funny, Harry,” he said, although it was easy to tell that he didn’t mean
it.

“I think it was,” Harry replied. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Yes, well,” Remus said. “So what can I do for you? Moody let you out early?”

“Yeah, said he’d take it easy on us because it was our first day,” Hermione said.

“You’re quite lucky then,” Remus replied.

“So what do they have you doing?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Remus replied honestly. “They’re not giving me anything to do until my boss goes over
the department policies with me.” He pointed to the parchment he’d been reading.

“Who’s your boss?” Harry asked.

“Jacob Dells,” Remus replied. “Big, sour-looking fellow. You probably met him, or you wouldn’t have
known I was here.”

“*That’s* your boss?” Hermione asked, wide-eyed. Remus nodded.

“I feel bad for you, Moony,” Harry said, clasping his old professor on the shoulder.

“Well, it’s better than not having a job at all,” he said. “So what is that you wanted to talk
about tonight? I’ve got about an hour left until I get off and nothing to do.”

“It’s er...maybe not the best place to talk about this,” Harry said.

“Does it have to do with,” he leaned in close, “The Order?”

“No, no not at all,” Harry said. “We...er, we made a new spell.” Remus raised his eyebrows at
this.

“You did?” Remus asked.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, his legs suddenly feeling stiff. Reading his mind, Hermione conjured two
chairs out of thin air and sat down. “Thanks,” he said with a smile, taking a seat in the other
chair. “You remember how Hermione and I disappeared for about four months at the beginning of the
last school year, right?”

“Of course,” Remus said with a nod.

“Did Dumbledore tell you where we’d gone?” Hermione asked.

“All he said was that you’d accidentally transported yourselves into the past,” Remus replied.
“Didn’t tell us when, or where, just that if his past self did everything correctly to send you
back, you’d reappear sometime in winter.”

“Would you like to know where we ended up?” Harry asked with a grin.

“I’ll admit that I’m slightly curious,” Remus admitted.

“Hogwarts, 1977,” Harry replied. Remus sat there in silence for a moment before he spoke.

“That can’t be true,” he said. “That was my seventh year, I would’ve remembered you.”

“Not if Dumbledore had memory charmed you, you wouldn’t,” Hermione interjected with a grin matching
Harry’s.

“But why would he memory charm me?” Remus asked. “Not unless I’d met you and figured out who
you...were......” His eyes widened and he snapped his head up at Harry who nodded.

“So we invented a spell,” Harry said. “That reverses the effects of a memory charm.” Remus gaped at
him.

“You....you’re serious?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Hermione said. “We wouldn’t joke about something like this.” Remus closed his mouth
and looked at her.

“Do it,” he said.

“I’m sorry?” Hermione asked.

“You created a spell to fix a memory charm,” he reiterated. “Cast it on me.”

“What here? Now?” Harry asked, slightly stunned.

“I...I want to know,” Remus said.

“Listen, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Harry said. “We haven’t tested the spell yet and it
might be safer to do it at headquarters.”

“Harry, I understand your hesitation,” Remus said. “But I’m just asking you, do me this favor. Try.
If it doesn’t work, there’s always a way to fix it. And I’m fully confident that neither of you
made an error.”

“Well, okay,” Harry replied drawing his wand. “You’re sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” Remus replied. Harry looked at Hermione, who nodded. Taking a deep breath, Harry
pointed his wand at the old Marauder.

“Restuto,” Harry said, as calmly as he could. A thin wisp of blue light flew from his wand and
impacted upon his target’s torso. Harry watched in shock as Remus’ eyes rolled into the back of his
head, but the shock was lessened by the fact that he seemed to have kept consciousness.

‘What’s going on?’ Harry asked Hermione silently.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘We’ll just have to wait.’

They didn’t have to wait long. A few seconds later Remus’ eyes came back down to their normal
positions, and although looking slightly dizzy, he appeared fine.

“Remus?” Harry asked. “Are you okay?” His old professor looked at him as though he had never seen
him before in his life, and cocked his head to the side.

“Oh no,” Hermione gasped, brining a hand to her mouth. “Harry...he looks like he doesn’t even know
who you are...”

“Remus?” Harry asked, this time a little more forcefully. “Do you know who I am?” Remus continued
to give him a blank stare. “My god,” Harry said, dropping to his knees. “What have I done?”

“A bloody good job,” Remus said, with a grin. Harry’s head immediately snapped up to find Remus
laughing at him.

“You git!” Harry exclaimed. “You had us both right scared.”

“Payback,” Remus said with a shrug.

“For what?” he asked.

“A night in the Gryffindor common room, say about 20 years ago.”

“You remember?” Hermione asked, a smile growing on her face. Remus turned to face her.

“I remember much more than that,” he said with a smile. “Did you enjoy the fireworks display we
gave you for your birthday?” Hermione stood from her seat and walked over to Remus, engulfing him
in a hug.

“They were wonderful,” she said, dabbing at her eyes.

“You know,” Remus said, turning to Harry. “I never really felt like I knew the whole story behind
how James and Lily got together. Dumbledore said that Lily fell for him after the quidditch
fall.”

“I know,” Harry said with a hint of regret. “I wish he didn’t have to memory charm you all, but it
had to be done.”

“I suppose,” said Remus. “Remember the time that Snape called Lily a mudblood while you three were
talking in the courtyard?”

“How could I forget?” Harry asked with a chuckle. “That was the most fun I’d had since Barty Crouch
Jr. bounced Malfoy up and down the hall as a ferret.”

“I’ll say,” Remus said with a chuckle. “Hmm, what’s this?” A purple paper airplane had just zoomed
into his cubicle and landed on his desk. He unfolded the note and read it, his face quickly
becoming the color of the paper as he read.

“Remus?” Hermione asked. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an attack,” he said, grabbing his cloak. “We have to go. Now.” He hurried out of the
cubicle with Hermione close on his heels, but curiosity got the best of Harry, and he glanced at
the note to see what it said.

*Remus,

Death Eater attack in Surrey. Several dead, more injured. Dumbledore’s calling everyone back to
headquarters. Get Harry and Hermione if you can, they might be having something to eat downstairs.
Hurry Remus, this was in Little Whinging, if you get what I’m talking about.

A. Weasley*

---------------

There it is. It is now 5:20 AM by my clock, so I bid you all a good morning, and am going to sleep.
Oh, by the way, this cliffhanger that I left you? Don’t assume anything.



6. Unexpected Visitors
----------------------

Nothing to say, a lot of questions get answered in this chapter, though obviously it creates
some new ones also ;) Enjoy!

---------------

Chapter 6: Unexpected Visitors

“Harry?” Hermione called, coming back to see what was holding him up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied quickly, grabbing the note so that no one else saw it. “Let’s get
going.”

They quickly walked back towards the lift, only to find Remus in conversation with the large,
unfriendly man they had met earlier.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency,” Remus was explaining.

“What kind of emergency requires you to leave work – ” he looked at his watch, “Thirty minutes
early?”

“A family emergency,” Harry interrupted, quickly growing impatient with this man.

“And are you family, then?” he asked with a sneer.

“That’s right,” Harry replied, doing some quick thinking. “Remus is my godfather.” He could see the
shock on Remus’ face at this statement, but made no reaction so as not to give anything away.

“So why don’t you tell me what this family emergency is, then,” Remus’ boss scowled at Harry.

“We have reason to believe that my aunt and uncle have been injured in an accident,” he said. The
man wrinkled up his nose and gave them a slightly animalistic growl, but nodded at the lift
nonetheless. Not bothering to say thank you, Harry quickly ushered Remus into the elevator with
Hermione hot on his heels.

“I take it you read the note, then,” Remus said once the lift started moving.

“Yeah...” Harry replied, handing the purple paper to Hermione for her to read. She scanned it
quickly and shook her head.

“You...you don’t really think that it’s the Dursleys, do you?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied as the lift clanged to a stop. “To be honest, I don’t even know if I
really care.”

“You don’t mean that,” Hermione said as they walked into the room they had arrived in earlier that
day.

“I’m not sure,” Harry said, taking a pinch of the green powder. “I wouldn’t wish death on anyone
except Voldemort, but some part of me wishes they would pay for what they did to me for all those
years.”

“Speak softly, will you, Harry?” Remus hissed at him. “We don’t need people here knowing what we
do.”

“Right,” Harry affirmed. “Er...how are we getting home?”

“Use the portkey that got you here,” Remus replied. “Just tap it with your wand when you’re both
touching it, and it should take you back home.”

“Right then,” Harry said. “See you at headquarters?” Remus nodded and disapparated. Harry quickly
took the quill from his robes and held it out for Hermione to touch.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded once and Harry tapped the quill with his wand, causing both of them
to be jerked away to their destination.

They arrived in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place to find most of the Order already assembled
(although Fred was still absent), chatting worriedly while, Harry supposed, waiting for
Dumbledore.

“Glad to see you two got here safely,” Arthur said, stepping through the crowd to meet Harry and
Hermione. “Where’s Remus?”

“He had just disapparated when we left,” Harry replied, shortly thereafter spotting the topic of
his discussion. “There he is.”

“Ah,” Arthur thanked Harry and turned to go speak with Remus.

“What do you suppose is keeping Dumbledore?” Hermione asked.

“He’s probably cleaning up whatever mess the death eaters made,” replied Harry. “Probably having to
talk with the ministry too, given how many muggles must need memory charms.” They were each silent
for a bit, letting various thoughts and scenarios wash through their already exhausted minds.

“If it *is* the Dursleys,” Hermione said. “What would you do?” Harry sighed and ran his hand
through his already extremely disheveled hair.

“I *really* don’t like them,” he answered. “I can’t stress that enough.”

“....but?” Hermione asked, sensing there was more.

“But I grew up there,” he said. “No matter how badly they treated me, they gave me a home. They
could have just as easily dumped me off at an orphanage for any death eater to come and bring me
home only to kill me when we got there. If they got killed...I suppose I’ll attend their funeral,
but I won’t be saying anything.”

“That’s very mature of you, Harry,” Hermione smiled. “I’m glad to see that you don’t hold the
lingering kind of hatred that Voldemort does.”

“I suppose,” Harry said. He was unable to say anything else he might’ve wanted to, however, because
the door opened to reveal Dumbledore, looking quite drained, with Moody hot on his heels.

“Headmaster – ” Hermione began, but was silenced when Dumbledore raised his hand.

“I cannot stay,” he said. “I’ve already walked out on Ron once when he’s needed my help to argue on
behalf of our side for the ghosts. Moody will explain everything.” And without another word he
disapparated soundlessly.

“So what happened, Alastor?” Molly asked.

“The Dursley household was attacked,” he explained. Hermione heard Harry take a sharp intake of
breath.

“And?” asked Tonks when he didn’t continue. Moody frowned, contorting the already distorted
features of his face.

“Apparently Dumbledore hadn’t removed all of the security charms after Potter left,” he said. “He
sensed an attack and quickly arrived on the scene a few minutes later to find Voldemort standing
over a cowering Dursley family.”

“Did they make it?” Harry asked, a little too quickly not to draw attention to his true
emotions.

“Yes,” Moody said, after a slight hesitation. “But Arabella Figg was having tea with your aunt,
Potter. She died trying to stop Voldemort.”

There was a moment of stunned silence at this proclamation. Harry could see tears forming in Mrs.
Weasley’s eyes, along with Professor McGonagal, and, much to his surprise, Mundungus Fletcher. All
too quickly he felt the burning, prickling sensation at his eyes and wiped them with the back of
his hand.

“You said Voldemort was there in person?” he asked with a slight sniffle.

“Yeah,” replied Moody with a grunt. “Seemed that he wanted to personally kill the people who had
ensured your survival during your young years.” Harry frowned.

“So how’d they live, then?” he asked.

“Like I said, Figg was there,” Moody said. “She stalled him long enough for Dumbledore to show up
and give the Dark Lord a run for his money, but she got herself killed in the process. Voldemort
doesn’t like delays.”

“So You-Know-Who just got away?” George asked.

“To put it mildly, yeah,” Moody growled. “He and Dumbledore started dueling out in the middle of
the street, and he blew half of it up before disapparating. I’m suspecting that’s who Wormtail
learned it from.”

“Goodness,” Hermione said, bringing her hand to her mouth. “How many were killed?”

“Twelve,” Moody replied. “He blew three houses completely to smithereens, and another six were hit
from the shockwave and sustained minor damage. Surprisingly, Number Four managed to get through it
all without a scratch.”

“What’s the ministry doing about all the muggles who saw this take place?” Professor McGonagal
asked.

“They memory charmed the ones who saw it all happen,” said Moody. “The rest were told it was a gas
explosion in one of the underground pipes.”

“Where are the Dursleys now?” Harry asked.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask that, Potter,” Moody growled, but did not elaborate
further.

“Well?” Harry demanded when his trainer didn’t continue.

“Ah, yes...erm,” Moody mumbled, obviously not wanting to answer this question. “You all know how I
usually agree with Dumbledore without question...but I didn’t really think this was the best idea
–”

“Get on with it!” Mundungus Fletcher growled from the corner.

“They’re about fifteen feet above your head,” Moody said in a defeated tone.

This time, Harry swore that time did stop. He looked around to see everyone staring at Moody as if
he was mad. Hermione’s slightly open mouth was frozen in place, as were McGonagal’s pursed lips and
wide eyes. However, like so many times before, the thing that convinced Harry time had, in fact,
not stopped, was the red color making its way to Molly Weasley’s face.

“Er...putting aside my own feelings here for a minute,” Harry said. “Why on earth did Dumbledore do
that?”

“It’s the safest place,” Moody replied. “After all, there *is* a spy in the Ministry.”

“And they couldn’t just stay at Privet Drive?” Harry retorted, his anger beginning to rise.

“Better if they stay away from there for the next few days,” Moody answered. “If Voldemort thinks
they’ve left, he might go looking somewhere else –”

“Did you just say the next few days?” Molly interrupted, surprising everyone. Although she had a
fiery temper, she was not usually the one to cut people off.

“That’s right,” Moody said, his tone growing impatient. “Look, I had no say in this, so stop acting
like you’re all going to bite my head off – not that you could stomach the taste, mind you. They’re
here until Dumbledore sends us an owl saying it’s safe for them to go back.”

“And are you forgetting that this is *Harry’s* house, and if he doesn’t want them here, they
don’t get to stay,” said a voice from the corner, which surprisingly turned out to be Remus’. All
eyes immediately turned to Harry, who sighed.

“I’m going to talk to them,” he said. “I’ll make a decision then.”

“Harry,” Molly said, stepping towards him. “Now I realise these people aren’t the nicest in the
world, but you need to remember they did bring you up – ”

“Mrs. Weasley, for once, please stop treating me like a child,” Harry said, not in a strong or
obtrusive voice, but in a completely flat one. “As much as you would like to believe it, I’m not a
Weasley, nor do I see it likely to happen.”

“Harry, dear, if you’re talking about how I feel about Ron – ”

“I’m not,” he replied. “And I understand that you wish the best possible outcome for everyone in
this world. Unfortunately the Dursleys don’t feel the same way. I’ll deal with them how I see fit.”
With that, he strode to the door and put his hand on it, but felt a familiar presence following
him. “Hermione, please stay here while I do this.”

“Why?” she asked, obviously slightly hurt.

“Because this is something I need to do on my own,” he replied. There were nervous glances shared
throughout the room. “Look, if you’re all afraid that I’m going to harm them, don’t worry. I have
no intentions of physically hurting them in any way.”

“What about mentally?” Hermione asked, almost in a whisper. Harry turned to face her.

“I make no promises.” With that he stormed out of the room and up the stairs.

It didn’t take spells or magic to figure out where the Dursleys were being kept. All one had to do
was simply follow the sound of the floorboards creaking from where Vernon was pacing. Harry slowly
made his way down the second floor corridor to a room at the end of the hall and opened it without
knocking. He barely had time to register the animalistic growl his uncle gave before he was running
at Harry like a wild bull. Fortunately, he had prepared for this.

“Impedimenta!” Harry bellowed leveling his wand at his uncle, who froze mid-air, blinking at him.
This action had the effect of causing Petunia to back into the corner, trying to shield Dudley.
Frowning, he walked over to his uncle and pointed his wand at him. “Incarcerous.” Thick, yellowish
ropes sprung and bound Vernon, whom Harry promptly levitated onto the bed.

“Now then,” he said, conjuring a chair out of mid-air, and taking a seat. “What a strange
predicament this is.” His ‘family’ sat in silence while he tucked his wand away and crossed his
arms. “How long ago was it, that you found a small child in a basket on your doorstep, only to
learn that you were the only living family this child had?” Still, silence. “I SAID, HOW LONG
AGO?!”

“Almost seventeen years,” Petunia said softly. Harry nodded.

“You took me for what reason?” he asked. “You both hated – *hate* my mom and dad. You hated
what they were, what you knew I was going to be. So why do it? Why make me suffer through seventeen
years when you could have just as easily sent me off somewhere else, and then everyone’s
happy?”

“Your headmaster – ” Petunia began, but Harry cut her off.

“Oh don’t give me that,” he said. “Don’t pretend to tell me that he forced you at wand point to
take me in.”

“H-h-he said that we would be protected from that-that Voldermorty,” Vernon stuttered, although it
was an obvious lie. Harry stood and drew his wand, causing all of the Dursleys to recoil.

“I can force you to tell me the truth, you know,” he said menacingly, even though he knew he could
do no such thing without Veritaserum. However, the Dursleys remained silent so Harry chose to do
nothing but scoff at them and sit back down. “You treated me like scum. Why should I let you stay
in the safety of my house when I could just as easily send you back to Privet Drive and subject you
to the mercy of Voldemort?”

“How about because we took you in, even though we didn’t want to?” Vernon grumbled, though Harry
heard him quite clearly.

“Hmm, fair point,” he said. “Perhaps I could find a nice cupboard for all three of you. Though I’m
not sure one exists that could fit *both* you and my pig of a cousin.” He saw Vernon’s face
purple slightly at this remark. “I’ll ask you again. Give me a reason why I should let you stay
here and not toss you out onto the street.”

“Because Lily wouldn’t have wanted it,” Petunia spoke in an almost inaudible whisper. Harry nearly
fell out of the chair at hearing his mother’s name come from his aunt’s lips. No matter how angry
he wanted to be at the Dursleys though, he couldn’t argue with Petunia’s logic.

“Fine,” he said, standing up. With a wave of his hand the ropes holding Vernon vanished. “Try not
to make a disturbance. I’ll send Dobby up with food later.” He opened the door and stepped out, but
stopped before he was fully in the hall. “Oh, and Dudley? I advise you not to wander around. You
might er...run in to some things that would result in unpleasant experiences for you.” He heard a
distinct whimper from where his cousin was, and he closed the door behind him as he walked out into
the hallway.

Sighing, Harry shook his head and walked back down towards the basement kitchen, hearing hushed
whispers coming from the inside upon nearing his destination. He opened the door and everyone in
the room stopped to turn and look at him.

“They’re staying,” Harry said, answering the unsaid question. “But we’re not making it easy for
them. No favors. If they want something done, they can do it themselves.”

This seemed acceptable to everyone in the room, so quiet discussion resumed while Harry made his
way over to where Hermione and George were talking.

“He still hasn’t budged,” George said quietly. “Listen...I realise that doing what we did can take
a lot out of someone...but are you sure he’s okay?”

“He should’ve awakened by now,” Hermione replied. “Maybe you should take Harry and me to see
him.”

“Fred’s still under?” Harry asked, speaking in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, do you want to come up now, while everyone’s down here?” George asked. “I think we can avoid
being bothered by mum if she’s busy talking to someone about Order business.”

“Sure,” Harry replied. “Let’s go.”

The three of them left as discreetly as possible, and made their way to the room where Fred and
George were staying, but not before running into Ginny.

“Oh, hello,” she said brightly. “So are you going to tell me why everyone from the Order is
downstairs?”

“The Dursleys were attacked,” Harry said. “Arabella Figg was killed.” Ginny’s face dropped
immediately.

“Isn’t she the person who gave the testimony in your fifth year that got you off?” she asked. Harry
nodded. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah...so am I,” he said sullenly.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ginny asked.

“No – yes, actually,” he revised. “Tell my why I haven’t seen Draco around since he first got
here.”

“Oh...that,” Ginny said, frowning slightly. “He’s been quite busy, from what he tells me. I only
see him for about an hour every day, and that’s right after he comes home.”

“What time does he usually come home?” Harry asked.

“Around 11, usually,” Ginny said. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Harry replied. “Listen, don’t go telling your mum that we told you about
tonight.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” the red-head replied making a motion as if she was zipping her lips.

“Actually, we’re just going to check on Fred right now. How would you like to come with us and see
how he’s doing?” Hermione offered.

“That’s fine,” Ginny said. “I was just looking for Dobby to see if he could – ”

“Miss called for Dobby?” the house-elf said, having suddenly appeared at her knee.

“I keep forgetting I can do that,” Ginny said with a smile while shaking her head. “Could you bring
my dinner up to my room when you have the chance, Dobby? I’m doing some difficult schoolwork and I
won’t be able to join everyone for dinner.”

“Of course, Miss,” the elf replied before turning to the other three present. “Can I get Sirs or
Miss anything?”

“Nothing for me,” Hermione answered.

“I’ll have a butterbeer,” George said. Dobby snapped his fingers and a cold, frosty, butterbeer
appeared which he handed to the Weasley twin, he thanked the elf.

“Could you bring a pepper-up potion to Fred and George’s room?” Harry asked.

“Of course, sir.” With that Dobby disappeared with a soft pop.

“You know Fred can only take that when he wakes up,” Hermione said, as they started up the stairs
again.

“I know,” Harry replied. “I have an idea though.”

“Care to tell us?” Ginny asked as they reached the room and opened the door. Taking a quick glance
around the room, Harry saw that Dobby had already been there and placed the potion on the
dresser.

“You’ll see in a minute,” he said, walking over to Fred and looking at him carefully.

‘What are you thinking?’ Hermione asked silently.

‘That the fact that the potion contained my blood is somehow responsible,’ he replied, pressing the
back of his hand to Fred’s forehead.

‘It shouldn’t have had any effect,’ Hermione said as Harry slapped Fred’s face lightly.

‘He shouldn’t have been out for nearly two days,’ he said. ‘The spell we made last year was much
more complex and I was only out for a day and a half.’

“So what do you think?” George questioned.

“Hermione?” Harry asked. Getting the picture, she went over to Fred and with a wave of her wand
checked his pulse, blood pressure, and temperature.

“He’s perfectly fine,” she said. “He just seems to be in a really, really, deep sleep.”

“So what’s your great idea?” Ginny asked, getting slightly impatient. For an answer, Harry drew his
wand and pointed it at Fred’s chest.

“Ennervate!”

Fred’s eyes seemed to shift under his eyelids, and a few seconds later he let out the first sign of
life that he had since the creation of the spell: a long, extremely loud snore.

“Fred,” Harry said, bending down over him. “Fred, wake up. Fred!”

“Mmmf?” the bed-ridden Weasley mumbled as one of his eyes squeaked open. “Tired. Go ‘way,
Harry.”

“Here,” he said, grabbing the potion. “Take a sip of this.” Fred let out a frustrated growl but
took a bit of the potion all the same, and a moment later his eyes were wide open.

“Wow,” he said, letting out a large yawn. “That’s some good stuff.”

“Works like magic,” Harry said with a grin. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Fred replied, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Could I have my wand?”
George quickly withdrew his brother’s wand from his robes and handed it to him. “Aquas.” A spray of
water flew out of the tip of his wand and hit Harry squarely in the face. “Yep,” said Fred with a
grin. “I’m fine.”

“Glad to see it,” Harry said in an annoyed voice, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his
pants while Hermione and Ginny were trying their best not to laugh.

“Great to have you back, bro,” George said, clapping his twin on the back. “Shop’s not been the
same without you.”

“I’m sure you managed,” said Fred. “So did it work?”

“Did what work?” Harry asked, muttering a drying spell on his clothing.

“The charm, you git!” Fred exclaimed.

“It worked great,” Hermione said. “Thank you for doing that, by the way.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” said Fred as he stood and worked out the kinks in his back. “So!” he
exclaimed clasping his hands together. “What have I missed?”

At that precise moment, a distinct beeping was heard coming from Ginny, who looked confused for a
moment before blushing.

“Right, it’s for me,” she said. “Give me a minute?” Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion, but his
confusion disappeared when he saw her take the small charm attached to the silver necklace she was
wearing and bring it to her mouth before walking off to the corner of the room.

“Is that the necklace Draco gave her?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah.....” Harry replied, but then trailed off.

“Harry?” she asked.

“Mate? You okay?” Fred responded when Harry did not.

“Yeah...yeah. I’m fine,” he said. “Listen, I’m a bit tired, so I think I’m going to head on up to
bed.”

“At quarter of six in the evening with no dinner?” George asked.

“Training was really tough,” Harry replied. “I’ll just have a large breakfast tomorrow. You know
they say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“Unless you’re Ron,” George snickered.

“Why, what does he say?” Hermione asked.

“That anything involving food immediately becomes the most important thing of the day,” Ginny said
with a smile as she returned from her spot in the corner. “Sorry about that.”

“Was that Draco?” Harry asked.

“Yes, he said he won’t be able to make it home tonight. They’ve got him doing extra work lately in
the research department,” she replied.

“Ah. Well, I’m going to head up now,” Harry said. “I’m sure your three can bring Fred up to speed
on what’s been happening. See you tomorrow.” He quickly left the room without another word, leaving
Hermione and the three Weasleys standing there speechless.

Harry jogged to his room and closed the door behind him before flopping down onto the bed, his mind
reeling from what he had just remembered.

*Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny found themselves back on the Hogwarts Express, heading back for
their next term of classes. Hermione had convinced Ron to take a quick walk with her to check on
some of the first years so that Harry could inquire about the present from Malfoy.

“So what was it?” he asked anxiously.

“This,” she said revealing a silver necklace she was wearing. “He has one too. He said that there’s
a protection charm on it, so if either of us is in danger, it emits a warning buzz. We can also
talk through it.”

“Have you checked to make sure it’s not cursed or anything?” Harry asked. Ginny tucked the necklace
back inside her collar and crossed her arms.

“Harry, you may not trust him, but I do,” she said. “And that’s what matters.”
* “Harry?” Hermione asked, opening the door, bringing him back from his thoughts.

“Mm?” he asked. “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” she answered. “Why did you run out of there like a bat out of hell?”
He looked up at her and sighed.

“That necklace...” Harry said. “Was Ginny wearing it while you were captured?” Hermione thought for
a moment.

“I think so,” she said. “Mind you, I don’t really remember much from that whole experience what
with the draught and everything, but I think she had it on. Why?”

“She and Malfoy can talk through them,” Harry said.

“But what does – ” her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Malfoy isn’t stupid, we know that,” said Harry. “Hell, he landed a portkey onto a *moving*
Hogwarts Express. How could he have forgotten about the necklace so easily?” Hermione sat down on
the bed next to him.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” she said, shaking her head. “And I agree with you. It doesn’t sound
like Malfoy to forget something as simple as a necklace, *especially* if he was wearing
it.”

“What if he wasn’t wearing it?” Harry asked. “What if he really *did* have an ulterior motive
when he gave it to Ginny?”

“Harry, I thought we were past trying to find ways to distrust Malfoy even more,” Hermione
said.

“He lives here, for Merlin’s sake!” Harry exclaimed. “He knows all about the Order of the Phoenix,
and he’s going to be inducted into it this weekend. What if – ” he stopped short as a horrifying
thought came to him. “What if he’s the spy?”

“I think it’s a little early to be making accusations,” Hermione said. Harry opened his mouth to
argue, but she raised her hand to silence him. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t be paying attention to
him a little more carefully, but, and forgive me for saying so, don’t you have a history of jumping
to the wrong conclusion? Like with Snape in first year?”

“You agreed with me on that after the quidditch game,” Harry said, angered at Hermione’s
accusation.

“Don’t get mad at me,” she said. “I’m just trying to help point out everything before you go off
and do *something rash*.”

Harry didn’t have to ask to know what Hermione was referring to. He hung his and let out a deep
breath.

“You’re right,” he said, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hermione said, taking Harry’s hand in hers. “The last thing we need right now is to
accuse the wrong person.”

“I know,” Harry replied, kissing her forehead softly. “I wasn’t lying to the twins though, I am
really knackered. You can go down to dinner if you want.”

“I know I can,” Hermione said with a smile. “But I’m probably just as tired as you, if not more so,
so if it’s all right with you, I think I’ll just go to sleep with you in those wonderful arms of
yours.” Harry smiled and flexed his biceps.

“I suppose I at least got one good asset out of quidditch,” he said.

“More than one,” Hermione replied with a devilish grin and squeezed his arse, causing him to jump
slightly.

“You’ll pay for that, Granger,” he said with an evil smile, which was interrupted by a large yawn.
“Tomorrow, you’ll pay for that,” he revised.

“Yeah, tomorrow sounds like much more fun,” Hermione said as they laid down in bed, Harry wrapping
his arms around her before she muttered a vanishing charm and their clothing disappeared, shortly
followed by the lights clicking off.

=====

Harry was awoken several hours later by a soft knocking at the door. Groping in the darkness for
his glasses, he found them and turned the bedside lamp on to see what time it is.

“Ugh...” he muttered, seeing that the clock read 1:12 AM. “This better be good.”

“Harry?” Hermione mumbled into her pillow.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.” She didn’t answer and upon a quick
check, Harry saw that she had fallen back asleep. Smiling, he threw on a bathrobe and walked to the
door. Opening it, he saw one of the last people in the world he was expecting to see.

“Hello, Harry,” Petunia whispered.

“What are you doing up at a quarter past one in the morning?” he asked groggily.

“I...I was hoping we could talk,” she whispered. “I didn’t want Vernon or Dudley to know.”

“Erm...okay,” Harry said, stepping out onto the landing. “What is it?”

“Perhaps we could go somewhere more private?” she asked, looking nervously around the hall.

“Uh, sure. Let me get my wand.” Harry said, going back into the room. A moment later he returned.
“Follow me.”

He led his aunt to a room down the hall that he knew was unoccupied: Buckbeak’s old room. Quietly
opening the door, he let his aunt enter before he followed her into the room and closed the door
behind him. Waving his wand in the air, he conjured a pair of comfortable armchairs and sat down in
one. Petunia, however, was looking skeptically at hers, almost frightened to sit down in it. “It
won’t bite you,” Harry said with a small smile. She glanced at him warily before carefully sitting
down in the chair, visibly relaxing when it, in fact, did not bite her.

“Forgive me for being cautious,” she said. “Sirius got me to sit in a chair that bit me
once.”

Harry, who had been leaning back in his chair, toppled over backwards completely at hearing
this.

“Wha – what?” he asked, getting up off the floor and righting the chair.

“I should have told you all of this a long time ago, Harry,” she said, sighing.

“Told me what?” he asked, not daring to believe what he was hearing. His aunt took a deep
breath.

“When Lily and James graduated, they had already been dating for several months,” she said. “He and
Sirius came over one day to visit. It turned out that James had been planning on proposing to Lily
for quite some time, and Sirius, having known about it, refused to not be there when he popped the
question. So the both of them came over to our house, and James asked Lily to marry him. That was
after the recliner had taken a bite at me, though.”

“This can’t be true,” Harry interrupted. “Sirius would’ve told me something like this.”

“In truth I’m surprised he didn’t,” Petunia said. “But it happened. My parents decided to throw a
nice party that night to celebrate the engagement. I spent the entire party in my room.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t meet Vernon for another year, so it was another thing that Lily had that I didn’t,”
Petunia said. “Just like magic. The number of times that I wished I could do magic when I was
twelve or thirteen is too many to count.”

Harry was stunned. Here he was, being told by one of the people he thought despised magic the most,
that she had wanted to be able to do magic when she was younger, and that she had known
Sirius.

“Why did you treat me so badly then?” he asked, wanting to know the answer.

“Lily and I were never on the best of terms, even before she went to that school,” his aunt said.
“She always knew more than I did, always did better than I did.”

“Sounds a lot like my fianceé,” Harry said with a chuckle.

“You’re engaged?” Petunia asked, with a look of surprise.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“I’d like to meet her sometime,” she said with a soft smile. Harry, though thoroughly stunned,
nodded dumbly. “Anyway, when Lily got her letter, it only made me hate her more. The week after she
got engaged to James she moved to Godric’s Hollow with him. I didn’t speak to her again. You may
think that Vernon hates magic because it’s strange. The truth is he hates magic because I hated it
when I told him about it shortly after we got married. I didn’t really stop despising it until the
summer before your sixth year.”

“When you found out that Sirius had died trying to protect me,” Harry said, remembering all too
well the conversation Dumbledore had with his aunt and uncle the moment he had arrived at Privet
Drive that summer.

“As much as I loathed Lily and disliked James, I liked Sirius,” Petunia said. “When he saw how
angry I was over the chair, he actually apologised to me and promised that he wouldn’t do it again.
No one except my parents had showed me that kind of compassion before, so he became the first
person in the wizarding world that actually seemed nice. Of course I didn’t ever hear from him
after the engagement was announced. Lily went off with James, and neither James nor Sirius had a
reason to come to my house anymore. When I found out that he had been killed, it brought forth all
those emotions that I had completely forgotten, the greatest being that not everyone who knows
magic is evil.”

“My parents weren’t evil,” Harry countered angrily.

“I never said that,” his aunt said. “But it was Sirius who helped me realise that for the first
time, not James or Lily.”

“All right,” said Harry with a sigh. “Go on.”

“I realised that your uncle and I shouldn’t have treated you as we did,” she said. “You’re not
James, or Lily for that matter. You didn’t even have enough time with them for either of them to
really rub off on you.”

“I appreciate you telling me all of this,” Harry said. “But is there a point to it?”

“Yes,” said Petunia. “When James and Lily were killed, Sirius was the beneficiary of their will.
But he went to jail the day after, or so I heard.”

“That’s correct,” Harry said.

“So it fell to Dumbledore to distribute James and Lily’s possessions as he saw fit,” his aunt said.
“Most of it he put in a vault in that wizard bank, but he left something to me, which I feel you
need to have, especially now that you’re engaged.” Harry’s eyes widened as his aunt pulled a long
velvet box from a pocket in her nightgown and handed it to him. Hands trembling, he took it from
her, and opened it.

Two wedding bands sat resting inside it, both made of what looked to be solid gold. A lone tear
running down his face, Harry picked up the slightly larger one and examined it. The outside of the
band was smooth and the edges were rounded. On the inside though, there was a faint inscription
that read *‘Two bodies, one heart’*. He picked up the other one and sure enough it contained
the same writing on the inside of the band.

“I thought you might like those,” Petunia said softly. “They are rather nice.”

“They...they were my parents’?” Harry asked, choking back a sob. Petunia nodded. Letting go of all
of his reservations, he stood up and walked over to his aunt, before bending over and wrapping his
arms around her in a hug. Clearly taken aback by this, she patted him softly on the back before he
pulled away.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Of course,” Petunia replied. “Now we should probably get back to bed. It is rather early.” Harry
nodded, and they left the room in silence. They walked back to Harry’s room, and he put his hand on
the knob to open the door but stopped.

“Aunt Petunia?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm?” she asked.

“Why now?”

“Let’s just say that your decision to let us stay here instead of throwing us out after our
treatment of you had something to do with it,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll see you around,
then.”

“Yeah...”

Petunia walked off down the hall towards the stairs, leaving Harry staring after her. Sighing, he
opened the door to his room and quietly made his way to the bed before placing the velvet box on
the nightstand, discarding his robe, and getting under the covers next to Hermione.

“This has been one of the strangest days of my life,” he mumbled before drifting off into a
dreamless sleep.

---------------

Okay, I know a lot of you may not like what I did with Petunia. I wrote her the way I feel JKR will
reveal her to be in later books. I don’t believe that she is as cold-hearted as we are led to
think, and although that she probably won’t turn out the way I wrote her, I think that if she
really hated Harry as much as some people think, even Dumbledore’s howler in the fifth book
wouldn’t have stopped her from kicking Harry out onto the curb. The other possibility, of course,
is that Dumbledore’s ‘last’ could be something solely for the benefit of the Dursleys, but I do not
think that’s true. On a whole, I rather enjoyed writing this chapter, and I think I’ll rather enjoy
writing the next one. I’ve got some great ideas that are going to start planting themselves, so you
can all enjoy that. As for Mrs. Figg, don’t worry. I didn’t forget about her.



7. Departure
------------

Recently, I applied to the New York Film Academy’s Hollywood school, and this Wednesday I got my
acceptance letter. Huzzah! My term starts in early September (so unfortunately I will not be
attending Witching Hour as I had planned), and once this happens, my fanfiction writing will cease.
I hope to have this story along with one other one (I’m debating whether to write a Phantom of the
Opera A/U fic, or a very emotional depressive/angst fic, any opinions?) completed by that time, so
don’t worry, I’m not leaving anytime soon, but it will happen eventually.

A couple people have talked to me about Ron, and why there’s so little of him. Don’t worry, he’s
not dead (again). But he’s going to be gone for a very long time. There’ll be a few places between
now and the end of the story when you’ll see him again, but that’s it.

Only one other note this week, and it’s that I’m now officially dropping out of the preside –
::cough:: Reader’s Choice Awards race. I know, I know, I can’t *really* drop out, but let’s
just say we’re at the point where it’s obvious I’m not winning in any category. Therefore, I’d like
to give an extremely heartfelt thanks to whomever voted for me, and good luck to the other nominees
in the voting.

---------------

Chapter 7: Departure

The rest of the week went by without incident. The Ministry had formally recognized Arabella Figg’s
death, and held a memorial service in her honor. Most of the Order had attended; Ron and Dumbledore
were still meeting with a mass of ghosts and were the only two not present. Aside from the service,
Harry and Hermione had spent all of their free time practicing apparation. Because of the attacks,
Moody gave his two students an extension on learning how to apparate until Monday. Although Harry
still needed a little bit of work, Hermione had managed to get it down in three tries.

“I’m really glad you found out how to fix this,” Harry said after another failed attempt. He had
tried to apparate across his and Hermione’s room and upon arriving there, found that his legs had
remained firmly planted on the ground where he had last been.

“Well I wasn’t about to try apparating without at least talking to someone from Accidental Magic
Reversal,” Hermione said, re-attaching Harry’s bottom-half to his torso. “After all, it’s not
something to be taken lightly.”

“I just wonder how everyone else learns,” he said, getting up and brushing himself off.

“With trained professionals watching,” Hermione replied with a grin. “Do you want to try again?”
Harry took a look at his watch and shook his head.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m tired enough as it is, and we’ve also got the Order meeting to attend in a few
minutes.”

“All right,” she said, sitting down on the bed. “I still think you’ve made great progress
today.”

“From not being able to move at all, to moving half of my body?” he asked with a chuckle as he sat
down next to her.

“Well...it’s an improvement,” Hermione said, interlacing her fingers with Harry’s.

“Improvement won’t be good enough for Moody,” he said. “And given that he’s putting us through hell
for eight hours a day because we can’t do mind tricks makes me really want to get this
right.”

“Well, if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything,” Hermione replied.

“That’s a good saying,” Harry said, moving close to her and gently pressing his lips against
hers.

“If that’s what I get for telling you proverbs, remind me to do it more often,” she said, once
Harry had pulled away.

“Come on,” he said, getting up and extending his hand to help her. “We’ve got to get to this bloody
meeting.”

“Are you still going to vouch for Draco?” she asked as they left his room and started to descend
the stairs.

“I plan on it,” Harry said. “I’m still suspicious of him, but not enough to change my mind.
Besides, if he *is* the spy, then he’d know we were on to him if I didn’t speak tonight. And
the last thing you want is your enemy to know that you’re on to them.”

“True,” Hermione replied as they entered the already full basement kitchen and took their usual
seats at the table.

“Well then, now that everyone’s here,” growled Moody, shutting the door. “We can get on with
business. As this is the first meeting we’ve had since Albus has been gone, it’s my duty to inform
you that I’ll be conducting these meetings while he and Weasley are away. Now then, I believe we
have an initiation to perform?”

“Yes, sir,” Draco said, stepping out from the shadows in the corner.

“What is your reason for wanting to enter the Order?” Moody asked.

“Headmaster Dumbledore has asked me to keep a close eye on the minister,” Draco replied, although
his voice seemed slightly forced. “I requested admittance into the Order as repayment.”

“Bargaining,” Moody grumbled as he shook his head. “Tell the assembled why you should be admitted
since you’re the son of a known death eater?”

“Ex-death eater,” said Draco, echoing the conversation that took place at the end of the school
term. “For those of you who do not already know, I killed my ‘death eater’ father when he attempted
to kill myself, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. Any of them can back me on this, they were all
there.”

A couple of heads in the room turned to where Harry and Hermione were sitting.

“He’s telling the truth,” Harry said. “And I believe that he will be a useful asset to the
Order.”

“Is that all, then?” Moody asked. Draco nodded once. “Very well, all those in favor?” A good
seventy percent of the room raised their wands in agreement, although it was easy to spot that the
first wand that went up was attached to Snape’s arm. “All right, admission granted. Let’s get to
business then, shall we?”

Malfoy stalked off to the corner where he had been leaning before, while Moody pulled out some
parchments from his robes.

“These are letters from Dumbledore,” Moody said. “Carried by Fawkes, so they’re not tampered with,
before any of you ask.”

“What do they say?” Fred Weasley asked.

“This one here is a bunch of arithmetical calculations,” he replied, spreading out the first piece
of the parchment on the table for everyone to see. “I don’t know much ‘bout Arithmancy,
myself.”

“They look like calculations for the strength of wards, shields, some protective charms,” Hermione
said.

“Well this letter explains it all,” Moody said, holding the second piece of parchment at arm’s
length so he could read it aloud. “These are the mathematical conjectures that show the apparent
and actual strength of the protections around the Dursley and Weasley homes. Based on carefully
calculated estimates, both families should be able to return to their respective homes by
Saturday.”

“We’re going home?” George asked suddenly.

“That’s the general idea,” Moody replied. “Only if you want to, of course.” The entire Weasley
family huddled together quickly to discuss this option, and a moment later broke apart.

“Nothing against you, of course, Harry,” Molly said gently. “But we’d rather prefer to go back to
our own home if possible.”

“Not at all,” Harry replied. “I also believe that it’s safe to assume that the Dursley’s will wish
to leave here as soon as possible.”

“We’ll get them packed and ready to go then,” Moody said. “Any questions?”

“How’re Ron and Dumbledore getting along with the ghosts?” Tonks asked.

“They haven’t sent much in the way of reports,” Moody growled disdainfully. “But they seem to be
making a little progress.”

“That’s good to hear,” Remus said. “Bill and I are still working on the goblins, though they’re not
to keen to help out.”

“Who can blame them?” George said. “We treat them as badly if not worse than how we treat
werewolves. No offense to you, of course, Moony.”

“None taken,” Remus replied.

“The goblins would be a great asset,” Moody said. “But the giants would be of more help. Minerva,
talk to Hagrid when you get back to the school and ask him how he’s doin’ with that brother of
his.” The transfiguration teacher nodded once. “That it?” Moody asked, when no one else spoke. “No
one else’s got news to talk about?” The room stayed silent. “All right then. Dismissed.”

“Potter, Granger, a word please,” Snape said as they stood up. Though slightly surprised, they
nodded and followed the potions teacher off into a corner of the room. “Obviously, having to train
the both of you in potions beyond the N.E.W.T. level doesn’t please me that much, but there is no
other alternative. Moody may or may not have already told you, but your first session with me will
be next Thursday at 11 AM. Apparate to the back room of the Three Broomsticks; Madam Rosemerta will
have been alerted. We’ll leave a coach for you to take you up to the castle.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry and Hermione said simultaneously. Snape regarded them carefully before turning
away and walking out of the room.

“At least he’s being slightly more civil,” said Hermione with a sigh.

“I suppose,” Harry said. “Do you want to head back upstairs since there’s nothing else we need to
do right now?”

“Why not,” Hermione agreed. “I was thinking a nice hot bath could be just what we’re in need
of.”

“We?” Harry asked with a smirk on his face as they departed the room, waving to various members of
the Order as they left.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Hermione said in almost a purr.

“You’ll give me a back rub?” Harry said, his face lighting up. Hermione tried to give him a
disapproving look but found it too difficult and burst into a fit of giggles.

“Well, if that’s what you *really* want,” she said with a shrug. Harry quickly grabbed her arm
and whirled her around.

“You know I was joking,” he said, his eyes starting to darken with lust. “Besides, you know what I
want more than I do.”

“Mmmm, I think I might,” Hermione replied, unconsciously licking her lips. They had already reached
their room and Harry was about to open the door when he heard a voice coming from down the
hall.

“It’s good to see you,” the unmistakable voice of Ginny Weasley said.

“You too,” Draco replied. “I...can we talk?”

“Sure.” Harry heard a door open and close in the distance.

“What do you think that’s about?” he asked, finally opening the door.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Hermione murmured, leaning against Harry in a way to make him move inside
the room.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Harry grinned as she shut the door behind her.

“Bargains aren’t the only thing,” Hermione said with an evil grin as she shed her robe and opened
the door to the bathroom. “Get in here.”

“Coming, dear.”

=====

The next morning Harry woke to find Hermione noticeably absent from his side. His curiosity
overpowering his desire to go back to sleep, he got out of bed and threw on some clothes before
trudging downstairs.

He entered the basement kitchen to see Ginny hunched over the table, head in her hands, while
Hermione sat next to her rubbing her back consolingly whilst Fred and George were grumbling amongst
themselves.

“What happened?” Harry asked, taking a seat at the table and loading up a plate of Dobby’s
marvelous cooking.

“Draco broke up with me,” Ginny said softly. Harry’s fork clanged to his plate and he stared at
her.

“Why?” he asked, finally unable to come up with anything else to say.

“Said that his job was more important to him,” Ginny spoke in a trembling voice, tears threatening.
“Said that he didn’t want to keep me occupied with a relationship when we only saw each other for
two or three hours a day.”

“Excuses,” Hermione scoffed.

“Is that what he wanted to speak to you about last night?” Harry asked. Ginny looked up at him in
surprise, and he was taken aback with how red and puffy her eyes were from crying.

“How’d you know about that?” she asked.

“We heard him ask to speak with you,” Hermione said, draping her arm across Ginny’s shoulders and
hugging her.

“Oh,” came the response. “Yeah.”

“Well if he thinks he’s staying here now, he’s mistaken,” Harry grumbled.

“He said he’d go back to Malfoy Manor,” Ginny said before lowering her head onto the table sobbing
softly. Harry glanced at Hermione whose eyes were locked on him.

‘This sounds fishy to me,’ Harry said silently.

‘I agree,’ she replied. ‘We’ll talk about this with Moody on Monday during training, since he’s
taking over for Dumbledore.’

Harry gave her an almost imperceptible nod and glanced over at the twins who were still
arguing.

“What are you two going on about?” he asked, looking over at them.

“Oh, us,” George said, looking slightly like the cat that ate the canary. “We’re...uh...”

“You’re not planning on trying to get back at Malfoy, are you?” Hermione asked, sounding scarily
similar to Molly.

“Oh, of course we are!” Fred exclaimed. “Look at what he’s done to Ginny!”

“But – ”

“Hermione, let them do it,” Ginny said, sniffling. “After making me think that he loved me, I
deserve some payback.”

“I don’t think – ”

“Hermione, let it drop,” Harry interrupted. “They’ll do it no matter what you say. So what were you
planning to do?” he asked. Fred procured a small white bottle from his robes.

“The git didn’t move his stuff out yet,” Fred grinned. “So we’re planning on dumping this on his
drawers.”

“I’m afraid to ask,” Hermione said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But what *is* that
stuff?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out,” George said. “But if you don’t, we’ll tell you afterwards.”

“Right, right,” Harry said. “Hermione, could I talk to you for a minute?” She nodded and got up
from the table before giving Ginny one last squeeze, and followed Harry out of the room, up the
stairs and into the library.

“Why here?” Hermione asked, looking around the old Black vault of knowledge.

“You do your best thinking in libraries,” Harry replied. “Does the timing of this seem strange to
you?”

“You mean Draco breaking up with Ginny in relation to everyone leaving?” Hermione asked. Harry
nodded. “I don’t know. I mean, he was at the meeting last night.”

“But why now?” Harry asked. “I mean, he could’ve chosen any other day, but instead he chooses to
leave her the day before she moves back to the Burrow. Doesn’t that set off warning alarms to
you?”

“A couple,” she agreed with a sigh. “But I don’t possibly see what his motives could be.”

“Well...” Harry said thoughtfully. “If he *is* the spy, it would make sense.”

“He killed his own father, who happened to be Voldemort’s right hand,” Hermione said. “How does
that make sense?”

“Maybe Lucius did something to piss Voldemort off and Draco was offered his place if he killed him
to show his loyalty,” Harry said with a shrug.

“I suppose that’s possible,” Hermione said.

“Besides, think about it. He goes out with Ginny so he can stay here and try to catch pieces of
information from the Order. Once she moves away there’s no excuse for him to stay here, so he
breaks up with her and moves back to Malfoy Manor, where his mother lives. There’s no harm in him
not living here any more because now he’s a part of the Order. And let’s not forget the dream I had
where we found out that Narcissa is most *definitely* a death eater.”

“Dumbledore trusts him, though,” Hermione pointed out. “That’s got to count for something.” Harry
growled and slumped down into a chair.

“It sort of worries me,” said Harry. “I mean, Dumbledore gets a lot of things right. Couldn’t it be
possible that he got one wrong for once?”

“He *is* an excellent legillimens,” Hermione replied. “I would think he would know if Draco
were a spy.”

“All of this is giving me a headache,” Harry said. He was just about to comment when he heard a
familiar voice coming from the hallway.

“Would you *please* let us carry our own baggage?!” the booming voice of Uncle Vernon
exclaimed. Chuckling, Harry opened the door and peered outside, to be greeted with a view of Moody
levitating the Dursley’s suitcases down the stairs.

“Scared of magic, Dursley?” Moody grinned.

“I just wish to make sure you don’t do anything funny to our possessions!” Vernon exclaimed in a
dignified voice.

“Sure, sure,” Moody said, although he continued to float the luggage down the hall. Vernon’s face
was starting to purple as they passed, when Petunia suddenly spoke up.

“Oh, I forgot something in the room, I’ll go and get it,” she said, turning and hurrying back up
the stairs before anyone said anything. Harry suddenly thought of something he wanted to ask her,
and turned to Hermione.

“I need to go ask her something,” he said. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Hermione said. Harry quietly slipped out the door so as not to alert his cousin and
uncle, and hurried up the stairs after his aunt. Arriving at the room where they had been staying,
he saw the door ajar slightly and opened to find Petunia rummaging around looking for
something.

“Explain to me something,” he said, causing his aunt to startle in surprise. “Why haven’t you told
Vernon about not hating magic anymore?” Standing up straight, his aunt sighed and looked at
him.

“Vernon has a brother who’s like you,” she said.

“You never told me about any brother of his who was a wizard,” Harry retorted.

“If you’ll remember, we were trying to keep you from finding out about the wizard world,” Petunia
replied. “I told you when we had that conversation that Vernon hates magic because I did. The truth
is that’s only some of it. Vernon has a brother who’s a wizard. Unfortunately everyone on his side
of the family hates abnormalities, including himself. So when he found out he was a wizard, he
changed his name and ran off somewhere. I heard he went to a wizard school somewhere in
Germany.”

“Durmstrang,” Harry said. “Probably fit him real well.”

“Yes, well,” Petunia said. “We never heard from him again. I think he keeps in contact with Marge,
she’s the only one who doesn’t know. She was already away at university when his letter came, and
no one told her. Or so Vernon tells me.”

“I wonder if I know him,” Harry said.

“Probably not,” Petunia said, finally pulling out a small necklace from under the bed and putting
it on. “I don’t even think he came back from the mainland.”

“So why not talk to Vernon about all of this?” Harry asked. “I’m sure you could convince him that
we’re not all so bad.”

“You’d be surprised,” his aunt said with a chuckle as she walked past him out to the hall.

“Thank you again, by the way,” Harry said following her. “For the rings.”

“It was nothing,” Petunia said as they reached the hall on the main floor where Vernon, Dudley, and
Moody were waiting for her.

“Go on then,” Harry said in an angry voice, though he winked at her slightly. “And try not to make
me house you for your own safety again.”

“Trust me, we have no interest in coming back here,” his aunt replied in an equally cold voice,
though she also winked at him. Harry smiled inwardly as she walked down the hall and the Dursleys
departed from the house, Vernon’s grumbling audible until Moody closed the door behind them.

Laughing, Harry walked back into the library where Hermione was lying on a sofa she had conjured
for herself reading a book.

“What’cha reading?” Harry asked, walking over to the couch and kneeling down next to her.

“A book,” she replied with a small smile. Rolling his eyes, Harry looked at the worn brown cover
with the intention of reading the cover. Though the gold lettering was worn and dirty, he could
clearly make out “H gw rts, A is tory”.

“Oh you can’t be serious,” he said. “Doesn’t this book ever get old to you?”

“I never read this book before,” she said seriously.

“Oh come on,” Harry replied. “You know ‘Hogwarts, A History’ by heart.”

“Yes, but this edition was published in 1732,” she said. “I bet there’s some information in here
that’s not in the newer versions.”

“Well how about you bring that on upstairs and read it while I practice apparating some
more?”

“Honestly, Harry, I was just reading it while waiting for you to get back,” she said, putting the
book back on a shelf and vanishing the couch. “Let’s get moving then.”

=====

The weekend came and went. On Monday morning Harry felt fairly confident that he could apparate
across a room without trouble. He and Hermione had practiced apparating to the roof of Grimmauld
Place from the basement. He’d managed it, but it still made him slightly nervous.

They arrived in their dark training room on time, and were greeted by Moody firing off several
stunners at them. Out of instinct, Harry pushed Hermione out of the way before firing off a few
stunners of his own. Hermione did the same, and eventually Moody halted his attack.

“Good,” he said. “Glad to see you don’t let your guard down.”

“Was it really necessary to do that?” Harry asked, catching his breath.

“Yep, gotta make sure that you’re being vigilant,” Moody said. “After finishing up with your
Occlumency and Legillimancy training, I’ll be teaching you how to throw off spells, and the stunner
will be one of the first. Granger got me good with one, but as you can see I’m still quite
conscious.”

“Another mind over matter thing, I take it?” Harry asked. Moody nodded.

“You’ll find that most of the secrets behind magic are mental ones,” he said taking a piece of
parchment from his robes. “Now then, here are your coordinates. You have two minutes.” Without
another word of explanation, he disappeared with a pop.

“Where’d he go?” Harry asked, staring at the parchment that read 55° 55 10, -3° 4 0.

“From the looks of this,” Hermione said staring over his shoulder at the parchment. “Somewhere in
Scotland.”

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied. “That seems to be near Edinburgh.”

“How do you know where this is?” Harry asked, stunned. Hermione shrugged.

“I don’t, it’s just a guess,” she said. “But I guess we need to apparate there.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” Hermione answered.

“How are we supposed to get there if we don’t even know where ‘there’ is?”

“One of the great things about apparition,” she said. “Is that you only need coordinates to do it.
A picture or mental image of the place helps, but it’s not necessary.”

“So I just need to imagine...” Harry trailed off as he tried to make sense of the parchment.

“Fifty-five degrees, fifty-five minutes, ten seconds north, three degrees, four minutes east,” she
said. “See you there.” And with that she disappeared with a similar pop. Harry shook his head and
frowned.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” he asked himself before closing his eyes and thinking
about the coordinates in his head. The familiar whoosh of air surrounded him and he opened his eyes
to find himself on the roof of an old church overlooking a small Scottish village.

“Glad to see you both made it,” Moody growled from behind him. “I’m impressed.”

“We did practice a lot, sir,” Hermione replied, walking over to Harry and putting an arm on his
shoulder. ‘I told you you could do it.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said standing up and surveying the landscape. “So what are we doing here?”

“I thought we could have training out here today,” Moody said. “I get sick of that damn room
sometimes. Too small and dusty.”

“Where are we?” Hermione asked.

“Small wizarding village called Old Craighall,” their instructor replied. “I like it here. Nice and
peaceful.”

“Won’t people see us training?” Harry asked.

“Nah,” Moody replied. “The town’s about ten square miles and has a population of seventy. We’re on
top of the only church in the town and it’s a Monday. No one will see us.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said. “Let’s get to it then.”

=====

Seven hours later the three of them were brushing themselves off after apparating back into the
grimy little room they usually trained in.

“Good session today,” Moody said. “I usually like to go out there every couple of weeks, so we’ll
be there again.”

“All right,” Harry said. “Sir?”

“Mmm?” Moody growled as he gathered up some notes he had been taking on Harry and Hermione.

“Can we talk to you about Order business?” Moody swivelled both of his eyes to look at Harry and
regarded him carefully before nodding.

“But keep it down,” he said. “These rooms aren’t soundproofed, nor can they be.”

“Do we have any leads on who the spy might be?” Harry asked. Moody shook his head.

“None, but we know it’s someone who works for the Minister in some way.”

“We have an idea of who it might be,” Hermione said. “Mind you, it’s just a guess.”

“Well go on then,” Moody said. “Tell me.”

“Draco Malfoy,” Harry said.

“Why him?” he asked.

“We’ve been keeping an eye on him,” Harry said. “There are several reasons, but the biggest two are
that he didn’t use the communication necklace he gave to Ginny when she and Hermione were
kidnapped, and that he broke up with Ginny on Friday night after the Order meeting.”

“She might not’ve been wearing the necklace,” Moody said.

“I think she was,” Hermione interjected. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember her wearing a
necklace of some sort.”

“All right,” their teacher replied. “What about the breakup?”

“He didn’t give a really good reason,” Harry said. “Said that he didn’t think it was fair to Ginny
to only see her two or three hours a day when he’s working here for the rest of it.”

“That’s a real reason,” Moody grunted.

“Yeah, but he could’ve done it at any time,” Harry replied. “Why right after the Order meeting
where we agree to send the Weasleys and Dursleys back to their houses?”

“Hmm...you make some points,” Moody said. “And he is in the Minster’s circle. I’ll look into it. In
the meantime, stay away from him if you can. He’s in the Order, so there’s not much we can do right
now, but we’ll watch him.”

“You know...I don’t even know what Malfoy does, come to think of it,” Hermione said.

“He’s the official scribe,” Moody said. “For some reason Minister Weasley admires his ambition and
gave him the position.”

“After the crap that Malfoy gave him in Hogwarts?” Harry asked. “That doesn’t sound like Percy at
all.”

“Well, what can I say, the man is strange,” Moody said. “I’ll look into it.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, now get out of here and get some rest,” Moody said with a crooked smile. Harry and
Hermione nodded and left the room, and walked to the lift.

“Do you think we could see Remus?” Harry asked as the doors opened. “I just want to hear his
opinion on all of this.”

“Sure thing,” Hermione said, pressing the button in the lift that read ‘4’. They spent the short
ride in silence and stepped out when the doors opened. Immediately they were greeted by an angry
bulldog barking at them, the collar around his chain the only thing keeping it from attacking
them.

“DOWN, BRUTUS!” a loud voice said, and the big sour-looking man who was Remus’ boss pulled the dog
back on his chain. “Oh, you again.”

“We’re here to see Remus?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, yeah, get moving,” he said, nodding towards the cubicle that Remus worked at while trying to
restrain the growling dog. “Damn dog...”

As Harry and Hermione walked down the aisle, Harry looked over his shoulder at the bulldog and
noticed it was eyeing him suspiciously. The dog seemed somehow familiar to Harry, but he shook it
off as a strange case of deja-vu.

As Remus’ cubicle came into view, Harry could see that Remus wasn’t alone. A familiar blond woman
was smiling and talking with him. So they wouldn’t be seen, Harry quickly pulled Hermione into the
nearest empty cubicle and listened carefully.

“I know he’s a bit harsh, Remus, but he’s good at what he does.”

“I know, Rose...I just wish he’d go a bit easier on me. Sounds a bit like how Snape treated
Harry.”

“You haven’t told me that story,” Rose said, with a hint of mirth.

“Well, I will later,” Remus replied. “I should get back to work. Would you like to have lunch
tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she replied. “I’ll meet you in the café at noon?”

“That sounds great,” Remus said. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

Harry and Hermione backed against the thin wall of the cubicle so as not to be seen by Rose as she
passed by them. When she had gone, they stepped out of the tiny space and walked over to Remus, who
was facing away from his desk staring into space.

“Hey, you two,” he said, his attention returning to the present. “What’s up?”

“I think it should be me asking you that question,” Harry said with a grin turning to face
Hermione. “Would you give me the honor of dining with me?” he asked, holding his hand over his
heart in an exaggerated manner.

“Of course,” Hermione replied, codding on. “I’ll meet you in the café at noon.”

“Oh, sod off, you two,” Remus said, though he was grinning. “So, you’ve taken to eavesdropping now?
James would be proud.”

“If you remember, he was after I found out about you four and that powder,” Harry said with a
laugh. Remus narrowed his eyes at him but chuckled anyway.

“So?” Hermione asked in a giddy voice.

“So what?” Remus asked.

“So...are you two dating?” Remus’ normally slightly pale face turned a soft pink at this.

“No,” he said. “But I’m trying.”

“Well good for you, Moony,” Harry said, clapping him on the back. “We’ll let you daydream about
your new love. Don’t forget you have work to do.”

Remus scowled at him, but it was easy to tell he wasn’t angry. Waving them away, Harry and Hermione
left the cubicle and walked back towards the lift.

‘You didn’t tell him about Malfoy,’ Hermione said silently.

‘Yeah...I didn’t want to ruin the mood,’ Harry replied. ‘Remus hasn’t had it easy. He deserves some
happiness and I didn’t want to take that from him.’

They reached the lift and the same bulldog was still there. Harry was pretty sure he had seen it
before, and given that the dog was giving him a shifty look, he guessed that the dog remembered
him. Hermione pressed the button to call the elevator while Harry stood locked in a staring contest
with the canine.

“Harry?” she asked as the doors opened.

“Coming,” he mumbled, as he stepped into the lift and the doors closed.

“What was that about?”

“That dog...” he said. “I swear I’ve seen it before.”

“Really?” Hermione asked. “Where?”

“I have no idea,” Harry replied as the doors opened and they walked out towards the departure
room.

“Well, don’t worry yourself over it,” Hermione said. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah...” Harry said as they arrived at the disapparation point. “I’ll see you at home?”

“Of course,” Hermione replied. She leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips before
disappearing with a soft pop, followed moments later by Harry.

---------------

Eeeeeee! Remus has a love interest. Now you all see why I created Rose. She’ll be in more of the
story, and you’ll get to see some great Remus/Rose/Tonks interaction (I won’t hide it that Tonks
*does* have a thing for Remus) in later chapters. Until next time!



8. Hogwarts and Back Again
--------------------------

The return of the evil school work...grrr.....it’s biting into my fic writing time.

Some of you may or may not know about the Alerts problem that PK is having right now...so for those
of you that didn’t know I was updating, this is Chapter 8 (in case you’ve missed earlier ones).
There’s another cliffhanger at the end of this chapter (I know, I know), so I just wanted to warn
you all in advance. But, just like the one with the Dursley’s, you’ll be surprised at the outcome
of this one too.

One other thing, for those of you who have been reading the trilogy faithfully, you’ notice that
there’s a major continuity error in this chapter. I’m not saying what or where it is (if no one
notices, more power to me). I’m going to erase the counter-proof from the trilogy, so the change is
now canon in my timeline.

---------------

Chapter 8: Hogwarts and Back Again

“Why am I so nervous about this?” Harry asked, standing outside the Great Hall at Hogwarts for the
first time in a month.

“Because it’s Snape,” Hermione replied.

“Remember what happened the last time we were standing in there?” Harry asked with a smile as they
began the familiar walk down to the dungeons.

“How could I forget?” Hermione asked as Harry took her hand in his. “I’m wearing this bloody
three-kilo ring on my hand.”

“It doesn’t really weigh that much, does it?” he asked.

“Of course not, I’m just having you on,” she replied.

“You can have me on anytime you want, you know,” Harry said in a mischievous tone of voice.

“Not here,” Hermione replied sternly, though she was smiling. “You wouldn’t want Snape to come find
us in a compromising position, would you?”

“You make a strong argument,” he said as they arrived at the potion master’s office. “Ready?” Harry
asked, taking a deep breath. Hermione nodded, and he knocked on the door.

“Enter,” came the reply in Snape’s usual drawl.

“You sound quite amiable today, Professor,” Harry said. “Did you win the lottery?”

“Spare me the pleasantries, Potter,” Snape said, although there was the tiniest hint of a smirk
playing on his features.

“What will you be teaching us?” Hermione asked, taking off her cloak and hanging it up on one of
the rusted iron pegs on the wall.

“Strangely enough, something Potter already has experience in brewing,” Snape replied. “Antidotes.”
Harry looked at his teacher and arched one of his eyebrows.

“The Vulnero Draught?” he asked.

“The very same,” Snape said. “Though you’ll find that it’s much easier to brew the antidote to the
normal version of the potion than the version I made.”

“Version *you* made?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes, Granger, the version *I* made,” Snape replied. “And before you ask, yes. It was the one
that was forced down your throat several months ago.” Hermione huffed at this, but made no further
comment. “Let us begin then.”

Many hours of stirring, listening to instructions, and conversing silently in their heads later,
Harry and Hermione had managed to brew an antidote for the Vulnero Draught successfully.

“Very good,” Snape said, peering into their cauldrons. “Here. Fill these.” He handed each of them a
medium-sized flask.

“What are we supposed to do with them?” Harry asked after filling his full of antidote.

“What, Moody didn’t tell you?” Snape asked, frowning. Harry and Hermione shook their heads and the
potions teacher gave a sigh of disapproval. “I must remember to thank him.”

“Professor?” Hermione asked.

“Well I suppose you’ll have to leave them here, until next week,” Snape said distastefully. “Moody
was supposed to instruct you two to buy potions belts, but I guess it must have slipped his
mind.”

“What for?” Harry asked. Snape frowned at him.

“For being the son of Lily Evans, you can really be unintelligent sometimes,” he growled. “What
would be the purpose of brewing these difficult and strenuous antidotes if we just threw them out
afterwards?”

“Um....”

“You’re to buy potions belts and wear them here the next time you come, along with every minute of
every day after that” Snape said. “You’ll each carry around the antidotes that you brew with you.
In your line of business, one never knows when they might need the remedy for some of the more
vicious types of poison, do they?”

“No sir,” they both said at once.

“Very good,” Snape replied. “You’re dismissed. Same time next week.” Harry and Hermione nodded
before moving to clean up the remainder of the potion. “Leave it. The Order could use it, so I’ll
fill up more flasks after you leave.”

“Er...right then. See you next week, sir,” Harry said, as he and Hermione departed from the
office.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll admit, I thought it was going to be much worse.”

“Well, if you’re still feeling under the weather about it, I bet I can find a way to make you feel
better,” Hermione suggested. “Race you home?”

“If you insist, Granger,” Harry replied with a playful smile on his face. They quickly sprinted up
the stairs and out of the castle before finally getting off the grounds and disapparating to
Grimmauld Place, only to end up on top of the bed together at the same time.

=====

“Soooo?” Harry asked in a very immature voice.

“So what?” Remus responded, sipping at his tea.

“So, what’s the deal between you and Rose?” he asked. “Or did it not work out?”

Remus sighed and glanced around the seating area in the small restaurant in Diagon Alley. Ever
since Harry had learned about the old Marauder’s blossoming relationship with the blond woman, he
had been aching to pester Remus with questions ever since. Hermione had suggested that he have that
conversation without her, so she was off with Ginny on a shopping spree to help take the young
Weasley’s mind off Draco.

“We’ve seen each other a few times,” Remus replied. “But I wouldn’t go so far as to say she’s my
‘girlfriend’.”

“Well, how have your ‘dates’ gone, then?” Harry asked. Remus shrugged.

“As well as they could, I suppose,” he said. “We pretty much just came down and talked over
tea.”

“What’d you talk about?”

“Oh, nothing exciting,” Remus said, picking up a small biscuit and biting off a piece. “We talked
about how Dells keeps hounding on me to get over to Gringott’s to chat with the goblin liaison
office, but he’s making me do it on my free time, and what with helping Arthur and the kids move
out of you-know-where, I haven’t had any time to do it.”

“You know Gringott’s is just down the street, right?” Harry asked teasingly. Remus gave him a fake
scowl. “So are you going to ask her out formally?” he questioned with a sparkle in his eyes.

“You ask more questions than James,” Remus said with a laugh. “I suppose I will in time. It just
seems hard that anyone would like me given that I’m...well...”

“Trust me Remus, I know how you feel,” Harry said after his surrogate godfather trailed off. “For
so long I was convinced that Hermione was crazy for loving me because I nearly got her killed in
fifth year. Sixth and seventh, too, come to think of it. The point is that when you find the person
you’re meant to be with, they don’t look at the lycanthropy or the scar on your forehead.”

“Yeah...I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I am,” Harry replied smugly.

“You know, you reminded me of Sirius just then,” Remus said with a smile.

“How so?” Harry asked.

“The night before your parents got married,” Remus began. “James was as nervous as Neville in front
of Snape. I never thought I’d see the day when Sirius Black gave valuable philosophical and
romantic advice to anyone, but he helped your father warm his feet back up.”

“Never knew he was such a romantic at heart,” Harry grinned.

“Oh don’t get me wrong,” Remus smiled. “Sirius was a prat through and through. But he did have some
warm fuzziness in him.”

“You know he’d kill you for ever saying something like that,” Harry said with a smile.

“And I’m sure I’ll pay for it once I pass on too,” Remus replied.

“You know, speaking of my parents’ wedding,” Harry said, a thought coming to him. “Do you know what
happened to their wedding bands?”

“No,” Remus said sadly. “Last I heard, Dumbledore was in possession of them.”

“My aunt gave them to me the day she and my uncle and cousin arrived,” Harry said, crossing his
arms.

“You’re kidding me,” Remus replied, his eyes widening.

“Not at all,” Harry said. “Up and apologized for treating me like scum during my pre-Hogwarts
years, and gave them to me.”

“That’s very uncharacteristic of her, from what I remember,” Remus said.

“Tell me about it,” Harry said with a shrug. “She also told me that Vernon has a brother who’s a
wizard.”

“Really?” Remus asked, becoming very interested.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Didn’t know much about him though. She said that he went to Durmstrang after
changing his name.”

“What’d he change his name for?” Remus asked.

“Wouldn’t you if you were a wizard and part of that family?” Harry countered.

“I suppose.”

“Hey, did you hear what the twins did to Malfoy after he broke up with Ginny?”

“I vaguely remember hearing about them plotting something, but I never found out,” the old Marauder
said with a hint of eagerness.

“They put bulbadox powder in his shorts,” Harry laughed. “You should’ve seen him the next day, he
was walking around with a limp looking like he had just gotten off of a horse.”

“Talking about my ex-boyfriend?” a voice behind Harry asked. He turned around to see Ginny and
Hermione standing there, arms laden with shopping bags, most of which were marked ‘Madam
Malkin’s’.

“Have a good time?” Remus asked.

“Pretty good,” Hermione said. “Although I still think that some of the things Ginny bought
were–”

“Presents for myself and my next boyfriend,” Ginny interrupted, blushing slightly.

“It’s probably best that I don’t hear about that,” Remus said with a smile. “Since your mother
would hex me into next century for not telling her right away if I did find out.” Harry, Hermione,
and Ginny all smiled at this. “Well I think I’d best be off,” Remus said looking at his watch. “I
should really go into Gringott’s, since Harry made a point of telling me that it’s right down the
street. I’ll see you two during the week?”

“We’ll stop in and say hi,” Hermione said. Remus smiled before turning to Harry.

“Don’t worry,” Harry said, reading the werewolf’s mind. “My treat.”

“Thanks,” Remus said. “My treat next time.”

“Whatever you want,” Harry smiled. Remus nodded and disapparated with a soft pop.

“Well then,” Hermione said. “Shall we go home?”

“If you two are all done shopping?” Harry asked. Both girls nodded. “All right,” he said, putting
down a few galleons on the table. “Let’s get going.”

They walked to the Leaky Cauldron where Ginny said her goodbyes and flooed to the Burrow, leaving
Harry and Hermione standing in the near-empty pub.

“Race you home,” Harry grinned before disapparating with a pop.

Hermione rolled her eyes before apparating into her and Harry’s bedroom, only to be ambushed from
behind by him upon arriving.

“I win,” he whispered with a smile, while kissing her neck gently.

“Well it wasn’t really fair, you had a head start and...ohhh...”

“So what did you buy?”

“Besides our potions belts?” Hermione asked with a grin.

“Besides our potions belts.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Hermione asked, turning around to face him.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it looks positively stunning on you,” he replied kissing her. “Though,
come to think of it, whatever it is would probably look better strewn about on the floor.”

“Well, we’ll have to test that theory, won’t we?” Hermione asked huskily.

“Sounds like a plan.”

=====

“You know, you two, you really ought to fix yourselves up afterwards before presenting yourselves
in public,” Tonks said with a grin as Harry and Hermione walked through the door to the basement
kitchen about an hour later, looking slightly dishevelled.

“And just what are you insinuating?” Harry asked, pretending to be angry, even though a smile was
creeping up on his face, and Hermione’s ears were turning a pretty shade of pink.

“You know what I’m insinuating,” Tonks replied gleefully. “Where have you two been all day?”

“I went shopping with Ginny and Harry talked with Remus about Rose,” Hermione replied, walking over
to the sink and pouring herself a glass of water.

“Who’s Rose?” Tonks asked.

“Remus’ new love interest,” Harry replied, as he summoned a butterbeer from the pantry. “They seem
to be hitting it off.” He muttered a quick freezing charm on the drink before taking a long
sip.

“Really?” Tonks asked skeptically. “What’s this woman like?”

“Seems nice enough,” Hermione replied. “Kept Moody from surprise attacking us on our first
day.”

“Hmph.”

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, though he had an inkling of an idea already.

“Nothing,” Tonks said a little too quickly. “So this woman works in the ministry?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “What does she do again, Hermione?”

“I think she said she was the new Senior Assistant to the minister,” Hermione replied.

“Oh. Her,” Tonks replied.

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked.

“She gave everyone in the auror and mysteries department along with all the heads evaluations when
Percy was elected,” she replied. “Bit of a snob, if you ask me. That’s why Remus now has that oaf
of a boss.”

“Remus’ boss is a new hire?” Harry asked, slightly surprised.

“Well, from what I gather he’s been around for a while,” Tonks said. “But he got promoted after the
regime change.”

“I wonder what Remus thinks of that,” Hermione chuckled.

“Who knows,” Tonks replied. “So, Harry, looking forward to Sirius’ commemoration?”

“That’s right, that’s next week!” Harry said snapping his fingers. “I can’t believe I
forgot.”

“We’ll you’ve been busy these past couple of weeks,” Tonks replied nonchalantly. “Arthur and Molly
are actually a bit nervous about attending.”

“Because Percy’s going to be the one awarding the Order of Merlin?” Harry asked. Tonks
nodded.

“They still haven’t spoken since he left them,” she said. “Or so Arthur tells me.”

“I still find all of his behavior of late strange,” Hermione said. “He’s giving Sirius this
wonderful ceremony, he gave Draco the scribe position –”

“Wait, what?” Tonks asked.

“Percy made Draco the official scribe when he was named Minister,” Harry said. “We just found out
about that last week.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever,” Tonks said. “Draco was hired in foreign relations. Why promote
him to scribe?”

“How should we know?” Harry said.

“I don’t know!” Tonks exclaimed waving her hands frantically. “It just makes no sen–”

“IS ANYONE THERE?!” a loud voice screeched from the fireplace. Whirling around, Harry saw the
familiar face of Ginny Weasley sitting in the fireplace.

“What’s wrong?” he quickly asked.

“We’re being attacked!” she said, terror evident in her eyes.

“Is Voldemort there?” Harry asked.

“I don’t think so,” Ginny said frantically. “Just hurry up and get over here!” Before any of them
had time to answer, her head was gone.

“Tonks, get to Diagon Alley and alert Fred and George. Then go and find anyone and everyone else
you can. We have to get over there now,” Harry said frantically.

“I’m more experienced than you,” Tonks argued. “You go tell Fred and George.”

“That may be true, but I can’t die thanks to a nifty little prophecy hanging over my head,” he
retorted.

“He’s right,” Hermione said. “I’ll help you.” Tonks frowned and tried to think quickly, but Harry
interrupted her thought process.

“We don’t have time to argue, Tonks, just do it!” And with that he disapparated with a pop.

---------------

Thar you have it. I realise this is by far the shortest chapter I’ve written since Part I, but the
muse was awfully unkind to me this week. I promise to make up for it in future chapters.
Adios!



9. Battle at the Burrow
-----------------------

All right, here’s the part that a few people aren’t gonna like. I’m not talking about the story,
I’m talking about this A/N. After going through my notes and doing some quick math in my head, the
end of this chapter will roughly mark the halfway point of this story. I know, this story is
shaping up to be a lot shorter than TPA, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I’m not
about to start adding pointless material like I did for the previous story just to make it longer.
Sorry.

On another note, this chapter is where you start to see some pieces of the puzzle come together.
Major pieces. I’m won’t say anything else, you’ll just have to read on.

---------------

Chapter 9: Battle at the Burrow

Harry arrived in the backyard of the Burrow to see flashes of light emanating from within the
house, accompanied with the sounds of numerous spells being shouted out. Not wasting any time,
Harry barreled headlong through the back door into the kitchen to find Molly Weasley in close
combat with a masked death eater.

“Stupefy!” he bellowed. The spell caught the death eater in the chest, and he slumped to the floor
unconscious.

“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley shouted. “What are you doing here?”

“Ginny flooed in to let us know you were under attack,” he responded, grabbing the fallen
attacker’s wand. “Who else is here?”

“Ginny’s upstairs, Arthur’s battling out in the sitting room I think,” Molly replied. Nodding,
Harry tore through the house until he encountered Arthur, who was backed into a corner, blood
dripping from a corner of his mouth, two death eaters advancing on him.

“Stupefy!” he bellowed again, hitting one of them in the back. The other turned around, taken by
surprise, and Arthur promptly stunned him with the wand hidden behind his back.

“Where’s Ginny?!” Harry yelled as Molly came rushing into the room.

“Upstairs,” Arthur said in a hoarse voice. “Attic.” Leaving Molly to attend to her husband, Harry
tore up the stairs two at a time. Upon finally reaching the top, he burst through the door to the
top of the Burrow and was greeted by the sight of Ginny kneeling on the ground, blood running
freely from many cuts on her face and arms. Standing above her was none other than Rodolphus
Lestrange. Not missing a beat, he quickly pulled Ginny to her feet and wrapped his arm around her
neck, so as to hold her in a position so she would be a human shield.

“Potter,” he spat. “How lovely to see you again.”

“Let her go, Lestrange,” Harry said, staring the man down. “It’s over.”

“Hardly,” the man replied. “Now, throw down your wand or I kill her.”

“Don’t do it, Harry,” Ginny replied through gritted teeth. Harry’s gaze flitted back and forth
between Ginny and Rodolphus.

“I know you may not care for this one like you do the mudblood,” Lestrange growled. “But if you
don’t do as I say, you’ll have her death on your conscience. Just like your dear
godfather’s.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Sirius,” Harry growled back.

“Still a tender topic after all these years?” Rodolphus asked, with a hint of a smile. “I should
think that you’d have gotten over it after you killed my wife.” Harry heard footsteps coming up the
stairs, and a moment later Hermione burst through the door. “Which reminds me, I need to return the
favor.”

“Fred and George just got –” Hermione began but Rodolphus raised his wand and cut her off.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” he bellowed, leveling the tip of the shaft at Hermione. The spell caught both her
and Harry off guard. She was still standing near the door, a good ten feet from Harry, and he
couldn’t have pushed her out of the way if he wanted to. The spell struck her squarely in the
chest. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath as the curse hit her torso, before slumping to
the ground.

Harry stood dumbfounded at what had just happened. Losing all his resolve, he crumpled to the floor
and crawled over next to her, desperately not wanting to believe that she was dead.

“Hmm...that was easier than it should’ve been,” Lestrange commented still holding onto a now gaping
Ginny. “My master will be pleased. Now give me your wand, Potter.”

Harry didn’t hear him. His soul suddenly felt empty and barren, a wasteland that the sun no longer
shown down upon. Silent tears flowing from his face, he put his hand on her cheek.

“I SAID, GIVE ME YOUR WAND POTTER!” Rodolphus bellowed.

“No.” Harry replied. An unearthly red aura took form around his body, and started to pulsate, as if
to be a warning siren for the anger and hatred building up in his body.

“I’ll kill her!” Rodolphus yelled, tightening his grip on Ginny. Harry turned his head to look at
him.

“Not if I kill you first,” he replied. Not giving time for anyone to react, the red glow erupted
from his body in a tremendous explosion. Before Rodolphus could blink, the red light was upon him
and vaporized his body, though it left Ginny unharmed. The tremor blasted the walls and ceiling
clear off of the attic, leaving a hole in the floor where the stairs came up, and revealing a
clouded gray sky.

Tears in her eyes, Ginny crawled forward to where Harry was laying in a sobbing mess over
Hermione’s body.

“She...she can’t be...” Ginny whispered, as it started to rain. Suddenly, there were hurried
footsteps on the stairs and the twins along with Molly and Arthur came flying up through the open
gap where the door used to stand.

“Dear lord,” Arthur said in a awestruck whisper. “What happened up....here...?” He saw Harry’s
sobbing figure hunched over Hermione’s body and quietly walked towards her, bending down beside
him.

“Hermione...” Harry whispered, cradling her head, tears falling onto her soft, brown hair.

“Harry...come on,” Arthur said, trying to get him to step away from her body. Harry didn’t hear him
though, and continued to rock back and forth while holding her. Seeing that he wasn’t moving,
Arthur reached out to touch Hermione’s wrist. The twins and Molly just continued to look on in
horror. Arthur took her wrist and gently pressed his index and middle fingers to it,
hoping...praying for anything. Nothing came.

“Harry...I’m sorry,” he said, not letting go of her wrist. “She’s –”

He was about to say, ‘she’s gone,’ but was cut off by the faintest of pulses in Hermione’s
wrist.

“She’s alive!” he yelled. Harry’s head immediately snapped up. “We have to get her to St. Mungo’s
quick!” Before anyone could say or do anything else, Harry scooped Hermione up in his arms and
disapparated.

“What in the bloody hell happened?” Fred asked, looking around at the destroyed attic.

“She...she was hit with an Avada Kedavra,” Ginny said, slightly pale. “How...how can she be
alive?”

The Weasleys could do nothing but stand there in disbelief as Tonks arrived on the scene with
several Order members and aurors.

=====

Upon seeing who it was carrying a limp and barely-alive body into the main ward, many professional
healers and assistants rushed to Harry’s aid, quickly conjuring a stretcher and helping to lower
Hermione on it.

“What happened to her?” one of them asked as they ran through the hospital.

“She got hit with the Avada Kedavra,” Harry replied. “She’s alive, but only just.” The healer
looked at Harry skeptically. “Look, she’s alive!” he bellowed. “Just run a quick check on her or
something if you don’t believe me!”

The healer ran his wand over Hermione’s body quickly, and the number ‘8’ floated out from the tip
of it.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, before starting to bark orders at other healers.

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, referring to the number that had just been produced by the
healer’s wand.

“That was her heart rate,” the healer said. “It’s a miracle she’s still alive. We’re bringing her
in there.” They rushed Hermione into an examination room, Harry close behind them. He was stopped,
however, at the doors through which the team of healers and Hermione had just passed.

“I’m sorry, sir, you can’t come back here,” a different healer said, blocking Harry’s way.

“That is my fianceé,” he growled through gritted teeth. “And if you don’t let me back there
–”

“Mr. Potter, I understand your distress,” the healer said, visibly nervous at the prospect of
turning down Harry Potter. “But the healers will do a better job if there are no distractions.”
Harry’s fists clenched, but he understood the purpose of not being allowed back there.

“Fine,” he replied. “But I want to know the moment I can see her. And I want to hear it from you,
in person.”

“Of course, Mr. Potter,” the healer replied. “Why don’t you have a seat in the waiting room?”
Nodding grimly, Harry walked over to the rows of chairs lining the wall and slumped down in one,
the healer leaving Harry alone. He was only alone for about three minutes though, as he was quickly
joined by the Weasleys, Tonks, and Moody.

“How’s she doing?” George asked tentatively, sitting down next to Harry.

“Alive for the moment,” he replied, burying his face in his palms.

“That’s amazing,” Ginny said. “I saw her take that curse right in the chest. How could anyone live
through that?”

“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled.

“I want you to know, you did a hell of a job over there by yourself, Potter,” Moody said, a small
frown on his face.

“It wasn’t exactly good enough, now was it?” Harry asked shortly. “We’ll be lucky if Hermione makes
it through this.”

“Yeah, you will,” Moody replied. “But you saved the lives of three other people. That’s got to
count for something.”

“Of course it does,” Harry said, finally looking up. “But....it’s just....Hermione is a little more
important to me, no offense to any of you, of course.”

“None taken, dear,” Molly said with a sad smile. “We owe you our lives as it is.”

“I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost her...” Harry whispered.

“You’d be hurt,” Tonks said. “And your grief would probably kill you in the end. But we’d all make
sure to give You-Know-Who one hell of an arse-kicking before it did.”

“Thanks,” Harry said sadly.

“Mr. Potter?” a voice asked. Harry looked up and saw the healer who had denied him entrance to the
examining room before standing there holding a clipboard.

“Yes?” Harry asked, albeit nervously.

“We’ve managed to stabilize her heart rate and blood pressure through the use of various potions,”
he said. “She’s going to pull through, though it was a very close call.”

Harry felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off his chest at hearing these words. A fresh
stream of tears came to him, though they were tears of joy. Wiping them away with the sleeve of his
cloak he stood up.

“Can I see her now?” he asked. Smiling, the healer nodded. He turned to face the other seven people
there and sighed. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Take as much time as you need, dear,” Molly said. Nodding, Harry turned and followed the healer
into the examination room. Hermione was lying peacefully in a bed, a potion drip hooked up to her
left arm, her chest rising and falling with her breathing. The few healers who were in the room
left when they saw Harry enter.

“I’ll give you two some time,” the healer said. Harry nodded his thanks and the man left, closing
the door behind him. A lone tear running down his face, Harry pulled a chair over to Hermione’s
bedside and took her hand in his.

“Harry?” she asked, although it was in a very faint and weak voice.

“Shh....” he said. “I’m here. You’re okay.”

“What happened?” she asked, cracking an eye open.

“You got hit by an Avada Kedavra,” he replied. Immediately her eyes opened all the way.

“Are...are we dead?” she asked, though it was still in a weak voice.

“No,” Harry replied with a smile. “You lived through it.”

“But....that’s not possible,” Hermione said. “How could that have happened?”

“I believe I may be able to answer that question,” a familiar voice said coming from the doorway.
Harry turned around and saw none other than Dumbledore standing in the room.

“Sir,” Harry said in acknowledgement. “Shouldn’t you be with Ron?”

“Fortunately the meetings had just ended when we received word of the attack,” Dumbledore replied.
“You’ll find him outside, waiting with the rest of his family, Tonks, and Alastor.”

“You said you could explain how Hermione lived,” Harry said.

“I did,” Dumbledore replied. “But I think it might be prudent for the Weasley family to be present
for the explanation, as it directly affects them too.”

“Okay...” Harry said curiously. The headmaster left the room to go and fetch the Weasley clan, and
when the door closed, Harry bent over Hermione’s bed and kissed her on the lips.

“You have no idea how scared I was that I’d lost you,” he breathed, looking into her face.

“I felt so cold,” she whispered softly. “Like everything I’ve ever felt for anything or anyone just
disappeared and left me empty.”

“I felt the same way...” Harry replied. “I thought I’d never get to hear your voice again.”

“Well, I’ve got news for you,” she said with a smile, struggling to sit up in bed. “You’re stuck
with me.”

“And I hope it stays that way forever,” Harry replied, kissing her again. They were interrupted by
the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“I don’t wish to intrude,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in their usual manner. “But I
believe you wanted to know how Hermione’s survival was possible.”

Harry turned around to look at him and saw all the Weasleys were standing nervously behind the
headmaster.

“Well, don’t be strangers,” he said brightly. “Come in.”

All six of the Weasley clan relaxed visibly at this and sat down in chairs scattered about the room
(or in Ron’s case, floated).

“It’s good to have you back, mate,” Harry said to Ron, taking a seat in between Hermione’s bed and
the chair Ron was in.

“It’s good to be back,” he replied. “Though I wish we could’ve come back for a brighter
reason.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” Harry replied grimly.

“Now then,” Dumbledore said, once he had conjured a nice armchair for himself and popped a sherbet
lemon into his mouth. “As I’ve already told Harry and Hermione, I believe her survival is directly
related to you all.”

“In what way?” Arthur asked. “We didn’t put up any shield charms on her, if that’s what you’re
implying.”

“There is no shield charm that can block the Avada Kedavra,” Dumbledore said. “Except for the one
Tom used in battle at the end of Harry’s 6th year. But that requires all of one’s magical aptitude
to use, and is still difficult to control. In other words, it’s not very reliable.”

“So what happened then?” George asked.

“You may or may not recall my reasons for sending Harry to live at the Dursleys for the majority of
his life,” Dumbledore said. “For those of you who don’t know, I’ll tell you. When Lily Potter
sacrificed her life to protect Harry’s, a blood protection was formed that keeps him safe from all
evils when at his home.”

“We know that,” Ron said. “But the Burrow isn’t Harry’s home. Grimmauld Place is.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “What does my protection have to do with the Weasleys?”

“Everything,” Dumbledore replied with a smile. “You may remember, that right before you and I left
for the mainland to meet with the masses of ghosts, Ron, some very intelligent students decided to
make a spell that would reverse the effects of a memory charm. However, they had training the next
day, and couldn’t make the spell themselves, for it would knock the creator out for several days.
There was also another downside, it being that the potion takes two to three weeks to brew.
Luckily, there were answers for both problems. Fred volunteered to create the spell for them,
eliminating that complication. As for the potion, Hermione wisely created more than enough the last
time she and Harry decided to make a spell, knowing it doesn’t spoil. Therefore there was a ready
amount for Fred to take in order to make their new charm.”

“I still don’t get it,” Fred said after Dumbledore didn’t go on. “Did my creating the spell do
something to protect Hermione?”

“No,” Dumbledore said. When everyone looked confused, he turned to Hermione. “Hermione, perhaps you
could tell us exactly what the ingredients of the Spellmaking Potion are?”

“Uhm....well there’s hot water, Rootmanga leaves, a phoenix tail-string, and...OH!”

Dumbledore’s smile widened as Hermione’s face lit up like it always did whenever she was the first
to figure out a problem.

“Blood!” she exclaimed. “Harry’s blood was in the potion!”

“Quite right,” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair. “By drinking a potion containing Harry’s
blood, Fred, you were awarded the same protections that he has. And although Harry may not call the
Burrow home, you do.”

“But Hermione doesn’t share Harry’s blood,” Ron said confusedly. All the heads in the room turned
to face him and gave him idiotic looks. “What? I don’t......oh. Right. Never mind, then. Don’t
listen to me.”

“So you see it was really rather simple,” Dumbledore resumed with a smile. “Fortunate, but
simple.”

“So what happens now?” Harry asked.

“Hold on!” Ginny interrupted. “I want to know what the hell happened that caused Lestrange’s body
to vaporize without even scratching me.”

“Hmm...I wasn’t told of this,” Dumbledore said. “What happened, exactly?”

“When I thought Hermione had been killed...” Harry said hesitantly. Hermione, sensing this,
reaching over and grabbed his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Smiling, he resumed. “When
that happened, I became overcome with anger. It felt like a fire burning within my body, but it
didn’t hurt. When Rodolphus threatened to kill Ginny, I told him ‘not if I kill you first’. Then
the fire burst from me and turned him into a pile of ash.”

“That’s about what happened,” Ginny agreed. “When the light hit me, though, it just felt like a
warm breeze.” Dumbledore considered this carefully.

“How interesting,” the headmaster said after a moment of thought. “Harry, if I asked you to tell me
exactly what you were thinking about when this happened, could you accurately tell me?”

“Yes,” he replied confidently. “I was thinking about how I was going to get revenge on Voldemort
and every single one of his death eaters.”

“Ah, well that explains it then,” Dumbledore said. “When Lord Voldemort places the dark mark on the
left arm of his faithful, a mental link is forged between said Dark Lord and his death eater. It’s
how he can contact all of them so quickly, simply by touching the mark on the arm of another. The
link that you and Tom Riddle share through your scar, Harry, is much more pronounced. By wishing
for the death of him and all of his servants, you effectively targeted them all
individually.”

“So what you’re saying is, that if I had done...whatever I did on a more powerful level, I could’ve
theoretically wiped out all the death eaters everywhere?” Harry asked, his eyes lighting up with
hope.

“Theoretically, yes,” Dumbledore replied. “But the amount of magical energy and power required for
such a thing would simply be too great for any person to be able to control. Probably ten times the
strength of all those gathered in this room, combined.” Harry’s face fell a little at this. “Now,
I’ve talked to the healers and they want Hermione to stay here for a couple of days, just to make
sure that her body remains in stable condition.” Harry’s face fell the rest of the way. “So why
don’t we all give her and Harry some privacy before we’re kicked out by the healers.”

Nodding, the Weasleys stood and exited through the door, though not before expressing their relief
to Hermione that she was okay. Finally, when Dumbledore was the only one left, he walked over and
put his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he said consolingly. “There are other ways of bringing him down.”

“I know,” Harry replied. “But it seemed like such a good idea.”

“As good as an idea that it may have seemed, the only way to replicate that kind of magic would be
for you to think Hermione had died again,” Dumbledore said in a soft voice, though it was filled
with seriousness. “I don’t think you would wish to repeat that experience.”

“Never in a million years,” Harry replied nodding.

“Good. Well, I’ll leave you two to it then,” the headmaster said. “I would also like to express my
utmost relief at seeing you alive and well, Hermione. Perhaps it would be best, though, if Alastor
didn’t hear all the details of what happened. I doubt that he won’t push you two even harder
now.”

“Yes, sir,” Hermione replied with a smile. “And thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Dumbledore replied. “Visiting hours close in twenty minutes. I’ll see you
outside, Harry.” Nodding, Harry watched as Dumbledore turned and left the room.

“Well...” he said once the door had closed. “At least you’ll be out in time for Sirius’
commemoration.”

“Yeah,” Hermione replied as Harry climbed into the bed with her.

“I’m not going to get to hold you like this for a few days,” he said, answering her inquisitive
look. “I want my fill of you first.”

“I’m not sure we could do that in twenty minutes,” she replied with a grin.

“Well, a half tank then,” Harry said with a smile. She returned the smile as he leaned in and
kissed her softly on the lips. Their kiss grew to be more passionate, and Harry softly slipped his
hand up Hermione’s shirt. He quickly drew away, though, when he reached the bottom of her ribs and
she let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“What is it?” he asked quickly. “Do you want me to call the healers?”

“No,” Hermione replied. “I’m just a little sore from where I got hit.”

“Can I check it out?” Harry asked. “Just to make sure you aren’t bleeding internally and
everything?”

“I would think the healers already checked that, but if it makes you feel better, then by all
means,” Hermione replied. Harry pushed her shirt up as gently as he could to get a view of where
she had been struck by the spell, and his eyes widened when he saw the result.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, slightly nervous.

“Erm...let’s just say we’ve been saved the trouble of having to get matching tattoos,” Harry said
with an appraising look. Hermione’s brow furrowed and she pulled up her shirt as far as she could
to look at where the pain was.

Placed about six inches above her belly button, right in the middle of her body, was a thin,
lighting-bolt shaped cut, roughly three inches long. Her jaw dropped.

“Well,” Harry said with a sigh. “At least people won’t be able to stare at yours whenever you meet
them.”

---------------

And there you have it. I bet a lot of you thought that I actually killed Hermione, didn’t you?
Nope, I’m not that mean to Harry. But that doesn’t mean that no one’s going to die. I’m actually
deciding who to have die right now...I’ve got it narrowed down to two characters. I think I’ll just
flip a coin. Lol, only joking. I know who’s dying in this story, and I actually have pretty much
most of the rest planned out already.

As for the chapter, I know this one’s pretty short too, but it was either this or write a thirty
pages. And since I have to work all day Friday and post this on Thursday (a day earlier than I
usually do), I didn’t have time for 30 pages. Next chapter will also reveal a lot of information,
so I suggest you stay tuned for that one too. Ciao!



10. The Graveyard
-----------------

I am infinitely sorry for posting this two days late. Real life caught up with me, along with a
lack of sleep. I would like to say here that hopefully this will be the last 10 page chapter for a
while. I’m hoping next week’s to be at least 12-13, and from there on out at least 14+. Nothing
else to say, so enjoy!

---------------

Chapter 10: The Graveyard

Harry lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He was sure that somewhere in London
at St. Mungo’s, Hermione was having the same problem. Fortunately, this would be the last night he
would have to spend away from her. Giving up on trying to sleep, he swung his legs over the bed and
walked towards his bathroom, deciding a shower would be an excellent way to pass the time until he
could go into St. Mungo’s and check Hermione out of the hospital.

Sighing, he turned on the water and shed his pyjama bottoms before stepping into the hot spray. As
he let the water pound down on his head and the back of his neck, his thoughts again drifted to the
conversation that he and Hermione had with Dumbledore the day after the attack.

*“Professor, could we ask you a question?” Hermione said tentatively.

“As I once told Harry, you already have, but I daresay you may ask another,” the aged wizard
replied with a twinkle in his eye.

“Well...there’s a bit of a complication with what happened yesterday,” Harry said hesitantly.

“Go on,” Dumbledore said when neither Harry or Hermione continued.

“Maybe it’s better if I just show you,” Hermione said, pulling her gown up to reveal the slowly
healing lightning-bolt shaped cut just below her ribcage. Dumbledore peered over his half-moon
spectacles at the cut with an appraising look.

“How remarkable,” he said after a minute. “I wonder if this would happen to anyone else if they
ever survived the killing curse as well.”

“Sir, this couldn’t possibly connect Hermione to Voldemort, could it?” Harry asked.

“How could it?” the headmaster responded.

“Well, you said that all death eaters have a mental link with him,” Harry said. “And since
Rodolphus was definitely a death eater, couldn’t Hermione theoretically be connected to him
now?”

“Your logic, while correct under different constraints, is not accurate here,” Dumbledore
replied.

“How so?” Hermione asked, a mixture of confusion and relief across her face.

“Well, the simplest flaw in your theory is that Rodolphus is dead,” Dumbledore said. “Had he lived,
you would probably have a small connection to Voldemort, though the one you would have had to
Lestrange would be significantly larger.”

“So you’re saying, since Rodolphus is gone, any link that Hermione may have had with Voldemort
disappeared?” Harry asked.

“The link itself can’t disappear,” Dumbledore said. “But there is no way of using it. Think of it
as if Hermione and Tom Riddle were to stand on opposite sides of a canyon. By the laws of nature,
they’re connected by the fact that they stand upon the same ground as each other, but they have no
means of contact. In order for contact to happen, a bridge would be necessary. You, Harry,
destroyed the bridge.”

“So that’s a good thing, then?” Harry asked.

“Active mental connections like the one you have with Voldemort are unnatural. I suppose you could
consider it a good thing to have stopped something unnatural,” Dumbledore replied with a
smile.

“Thank you, sir,” Hermione said, clearly relieved.

“Not at all,” the headmaster replied.*

Sighing, Harry turned off the water and stepped out of the shower before muttering a drying spell
on himself.

“We avoided a close one there,” he muttered to no one in particular.

=====

‘Why on Earth could they not have let me out a day earlier?’ Hermione thought to herself as she got
dressed to go back to Grimmauld Place and change for Sirius’ ceremony.

‘Because the healers aren’t very cooperative,’ Harry’s voice replied in her head.

‘Are you almost here?’ she asked anxiously.

‘Turn around.’

Hermione turned and saw Harry standing there with a bemused expression on his face.

“How long have you been there?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Not long enough,” he replied, walking over and kissing her soundly on the lips. “Apparently I
missed my favorite part of the morning.”

“And what would that be?” she asked softly with a smile.

“The part right after you wake up but right before you get dressed,” he whispered into her ear with
a grin.

“And why is that your favorite moment?” Hermione asked curiously.

‘Because you’re too tired and powerless to stop me from doing anything I might want to do,’ Harry
replied silently with a large smile.

“Oh trust me,” Hermione said aloud. “If I wanted to stop you, I could.”

“Maybe we’ll have to try that some day then,” Harry said with a sparkle in his eye. “Are you almost
ready to go?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We just need to check me out.”

“I did it before I came up,” Harry said. “We can apparate out right now if everything’s all
set.”

“Okay,” Hermione said. “Meet you at home?”

“Meet you at home.” Hermione disappeared with a soft pop, and checking the room quickly to make
sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Harry quickly followed suit. He arrived in his room at
Grimmauld Place and was immediately ambushed by Hermione crushing her lips to his.

“Merlin, I missed you so much,” she said breathlessly as she pulled away. “I was going spare
without you next to me at night.”

“Me too,” Harry replied. “Toughest four days of my life.”

“We don’t have to get to the ceremony for another hour and a half,” Hermione said.

“How will we ever pass the time?” Harry said with a grin on his face.

“I can think of a way,” she said with a lustful expression.

“I’m sure you can,” Harry replied while pulling off his shirt.

=====

“Why did they have to pick today of all days to have the ceremony?” Hermione asked as she put on a
clean black cloak.

“It’s not like they knew you were going to become the second person to live through the A.K.,”
Harry said with a shrug.

“I know,” Hermione said in a resigned voice. “I just wish we could spend the day by
ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied while pulling her into an embrace. “But it could be much worse.”

“That it could,” she said with a sad smile.

“You two about ready?” the voice of Remus came from outside the room.

“We’re coming right out,” Hermione replied, though not letting go of Harry.

“Come on,” he whispered. “There’s always later.” Though she was obviously displeased when Harry let
go, she said nothing, and so they walked to the door and opened it to find Remus standing there
with a smug grin.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” he said with a mischievous twinkle not unlike Dumbledore’s in
his eye.

“No, we were just getting ready,” Harry said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s disappointed,” Remus scoffed. “Ready to leave?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “Where’s it being held?”

“Dumbledore didn’t tell you?” Remus asked as they started to walk down the stairs to the basement
kitchen. Harry and Hermione shook their heads. “Oh. Well...erm...this may come as a bit of a shock
then...”

“What is it?” Harry asked as Remus trailed off.

“The ceremony is being held at Sirius’ grave,” the werewolf said with a sigh.

“I don’t understand,” Hermione said as they arrived in the basement. “Sirius doesn’t have a
grave.”

“He does,” Remus replied. “When the ministry decided to honor Sirius as a martyr instead of a death
eater, they erected a memorial for him.”

“Oh,” Harry said sullenly. “Well, I suppose that’s not so bad.”

“His memorial is next to James and Lily’s graves.”

Harry supposed it really shouldn’t have surprised him. Sirius was, after all, James’ best friend
for his entire life (at least all that Harry knew of it). Yet, thinking about it, Harry supposed it
was the fact that his parents had graves and he had never visited them that bothered him more than
the fact that Sirius’ memorial was next to them.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, seeing that his thoughts had drifted elsewhere.

“I’m fine,” he said, dismissing the topic. “I...I just didn’t know my parents were buried
anywhere.”

“Something I should have remedied years ago,” a quiet voice in the corner of the kitchen said. The
three of them turned and saw Albus Dumbledore leaning back in an old chair by the pantry. “But,
unfortunately, I didn’t. I hope you can forgive me one day, Harry.”

“It hurts,” Harry admitted, “Not knowing I could visit Mum and Dad all these years. But it’s not
the end of the world.”

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said, getting up and giving Harry a slight smile.

“You’re welcome,” Harry replied. “Now could we get going so I might be able to spend a little time
with my parents before the ceremony starts?”

“Of course,” Dumbledore said, taking a slip of parchment from his robes and handing it to Harry.
“This is where you are to apparate to. I’ll see you shortly.” Then, without any noise whatsoever,
Dumbledore disapparated from the kitchen. Harry showed the slip of paper to Hermione and Remus, who
nodded once.

“See you there, then,” Harry said. Closing his eyes, he imagined the coordinates in his head and
quickly felt the all too familiar rush that one gets used to when traveling by any magical
means.

Upon opening his eyes, he saw a small crowd of people (about half of which he knew) gathered in a
clearing about ten feet in front of him. There were about two dozen plain white, wooden chairs,
laid out in four rows, and at the front of the assembly was an ordinary podium. Looking around,
Harry saw that he was standing in a rather ordinary graveyard; there were many tombstones laid in
rows, some gray, some white, some black. What let Harry know that they were definitely in a wizard
graveyard though, was that the little engraved pictures on the top of some stones were moving.
Hearing two soft pops behind him, Harry turned and saw Hermione and Remus brushing themselves
off.

“I’m sorry you didn’t know about your parents,” Remus said. “If I had known that you didn’t, I
would’ve taken you here myself years ago.”

“It’s okay,” Harry replied. “I’m here now.” Remus gave him a small smile before looking behind him
and spotting someone.

“Er..I’ll go and mingle with the guests, then,” he said, walking past Harry. He turned around and
saw that, in fact, Remus was making a beeline for Rose McClellan.

“He really likes her,” Hermione said with a smile. “I think it’s wonderful that he finally has
someone in his life.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Harry said as he saw Dumbledore walking towards him.

“Perhaps you would like me to show you where your parents are buried?” the headmaster asked. Harry
nodded and let himself be led by Dumbledore towards the small group of people. He expected those he
knew to greet him as they passed, but either Dumbledore had asked them to be left alone for a
little bit or they simply didn’t notice. When they reached the other side, Harry could see two
rather large headstones resting next to each other, one white, the other gray.

“I’ll come and get you when the ceremony is about to begin, then,” Dumbledore said with a smile as
he walked back towards the group of people. Hermione began to follow him, but Harry noticed and put
his hand on her arm.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I thought you might like some privacy,” Hermione said. “They’re your parents, after all. Not
mine.”

“We’re going to be married in a few months,” Harry replied. “They’re your parents too.” Hermione
smiled and took his arm in hers as they walked towards the smooth marble stones.

The black one was obviously Sirius’. Aside from the words ‘Erected in memory of Sirius Black’,
there was nothing else on the stone.

“They’ll probably ask you what you would like to have put on it,” Hermione said, reading Harry’s
thoughts.

“Yeah,” he replied, shifting his attention to the white one. Like some of the other tombstones,
there was a small picture at the top of it, though this one had two lions, one male, one female,
curled up together. They were currently asleep. Sighing, Harry let his gaze fall to the engraved
words upon the marble.

*Here lie James and Lily Potter

1960-1981

Two bodies, one heart

Erected in loving memory by Remus Lupin*

“That’s beautiful,” Hermione said softly.

“It is,” Harry agreed. “That reminds me, when we get back home, I have something I want to show
you.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“I want it to be a surprise,” Harry replied. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile. Harry wrapped his arm around her as she laid her head on his
shoulder. “They weren’t even my parents and I miss them.”

“I know,” Harry said. “So do I.”

“Kinda makes you want to go back and try to see them again, doesn’t it?” Hermione said with a sad
smile.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that,” Harry replied. “But it’s not
smart.”

“I know,” she said. “But it’s nice to think about.” Harry nodded and the two of them stood there in
silence for a couple minutes before the sound of someone clearing their throat was heard from
behind them.

“We’re ready to begin,” Dumbledore said. Harry and Hermione turned around and saw that everyone was
starting to take their seats. Nodding, Harry turned back to his parents’ grave one last time.

“I’ll come back in a little while,” he whispered. A soft, warm breeze blew as he said those words,
causing him to look around skeptically.

“Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” he said with a smile as they followed Dumbledore and took a seat next to him in the
first row. Harry noticed that also in the first row were Remus, Rose, and (to Harry’s slight
surprise) Kingsley Shacklebolt, along with an extra empty seat.

“Now then,” a voice interrupted Harry from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Percy standing at
the podium. “I would like to thank all of you for coming. We are here today to remember Sirius
Black, a man who gave his life in the war against Who-Know-Who. I would now like to present his
official pardon, along with his award of Order of Merlin, First Class, to his beneficiary, Harry
Potter.”

Percy’s tone along with his unusually patient demeanor unnerved Harry a little bit, but he shook it
off as he stood up and walked towards the podium. Upon reaching it, he took the parchment that
Sirius’ pardon was written on, along with the Order of Merlin medal from Percy.

“Thank you for this,” Harry said in a low voice. Percy didn’t meet Harry’s gaze, but he nodded all
the same and walked away to take the empty seat in the front row. Now that he was able to see
everyone clearly without having to turn around in his seat, Harry could tell that the entire
Weasley family was present, along with a good portion of the Order, and some other ministry
officials, some of which he knew, some of which he didn’t. Harry assumed from the silence and the
way everyone was staring at him intently that he was now supposed to say something.

“I’d like to thank Minister Weasley for what he has done today,” Harry said hesitantly. He didn’t
have a speech prepared, and he wasn’t entirely sure improvisation was one of his best abilities.
“For those of you who don’t know, Sirius Black was my godfather. I didn’t even know I had a
godfather until I was thirteen. When I did find out about him, I thought he was responsible for the
deaths of my parents. How I found out about his innocence is another story for another day, but in
the process, I learned that it was Peter Pettigrew who had betrayed my parents, not Sirius.

“Unfortunately, Pettigrew escaped,” Harry continued. “And so Sirius was forced to remain on the
run. I kept in contact with him during my fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts, but I never really
got to spend much time with him. And then he was killed in the Department of Mysteries by Bellatrix
Lestrange, trying to save me. I blamed myself for his death for too long. Fortunately, I had people
who cared about me to help me through it.” He smiled shamelessly at Hermione upon saying this. “Now
that he’s finally a free man, though I’m not sure how free one is in death, I can rest knowing that
his memory will not be spat upon by those victimized by Pettigrew. For that, I thank Percy
Weasley.”

There was polite applause following this, and Harry smiled as he stepped down from the podium.
Percy stood up and walked back to the front once Harry had taken his seat, and waited for the
murmuring to die down.

“A fine speech,” he said with very little emotion. “Now that that’s taken care of, we can – ”

But whatever Percy was going to say was interrupted by blasts of green light coming from the left
hand side of the clearing. Instantly several aurors were up and tackled Percy to the ground,
shielding him, the rest were left using the chairs as shields as about three dozen death eaters
swarmed into the clearing.

“We can’t disapparate, Albus!” Remus yelled from somewhere behind Harry.

“They’ve put up an anti-transport field!” Albus replied in a loud voice. “Portkeys won’t work
either!”

“RON!” Harry bellowed as he fired another stunner at the death eaters. From a little ways off, he
saw the ghost stop firing balls of white light from his hands to turn and look at him. “DO
SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!” He nodded quickly and flew off towards the death eaters. A moment later
Harry felt a large tremor and chanced a look to see what had happened.

Ron was floating half a foot off the ground, looking curiously down at the unconscious bodies of
about thirty death eaters. Another six or so looked to be dead, caught in their own
crossfire.

“Hmm,” the ghost said appraisingly. “I must be getting stronger.”

“Yeah,” Harry said breathlessly. “I guess so.” He looked around and saw Hermione getting up slowly,
an ugly bruise on her face. Quickly, he rushed over to her and helped her to her feet. “What
happened?”

“Oh, one of their spells hit the chair I was using as a shield,” Hermione said in a pained voice.
“A piece of the wood hit me in the face.”

Harry quickly muttered a basic healing spell to help prevent swelling and reduce the pain, when he
saw Remus lying on the ground, bleeding fairly badly. Making sure Hermione was okay, he rushed over
to the werewolf’s side, where Rose was crouched next to him, trying to help.

“What happened, Remus?” Harry asked, summoning over Albus for help.

“I got hit with a nasty stinging hex,” Remus said, nodding at his shoulder. Harry gently pulled the
ripped cloth off the wound and his eyes bulged as the size of the gash that Remus was
sporting.

“I can help him,” Albus said. “Harry, go find Moody, he may need help with other people.” Harry
stood and glanced over at Hermione before looking down at Remus. Sighing, he walked over to his
fianceé.

“Are you okay?” he asked her softly.

“Yes,” she replied. “It just smarts a little bit.”

“I can’t believe this,” Harry said. “During Sirius’ ceremony too. I thought this was supposed to be
kept under wraps.”

“It was,” Moody growled, coming up behind them. “Someone leaked the location, no doubt.”

“The spy...” Harry said with obvious distaste. “I’m getting sick of this.” He looked around at the
various aurors who were helping to apprehend the death eaters, when a thought struck him. “Why
wasn’t Malfoy here today?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “It’s not like he was a friend of Sirius’.”

“Yeah, but neither was Rose and she still came,” Harry said. “And Malfoy’s the scribe. Why
*wouldn’t* he be here?” Moody and Hermione shrugged. “I’m getting to the bottom of
this.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Moody said, putting his hand on the shoulder of an about-to-disapparate Harry.
“Where do you think you’re going.”

“To talk to Wormtail.”

“Potter, he’s a top security prisoner. You can’t just go in there and interrogate --” Moody said,
but Harry cut him off.

“I don’t care. I will not stand by and watch people I care about get hurt like this,” Harry replied
hotly. “And you’re not going to stop me.”

“Who said I was going to stop you?” Moody asked. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that
you can’t go in there and interrogate him without a seasoned auror with you.” Harry couldn’t help
but smile a little at this.

“Can you apparate, Hermione?” he asked, not wanting to leave her.

“You go ahead,” she said. “I want to stay here and help make sure everyone’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. “I really wish you’d come with us.”

“I’m okay,” Hermione said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you back at the house,
okay?”

“Please stay safe,” Harry said.

“I will,” Hermione replied. “Now go get to the bottom of this.” Harry looked at Moody and with a
nod, they disapparated.

---------------

And there you go. Again, I’m sorry this was two days late, I will TRY to have next week’s up a day
early as compensation. Until next time.



11. Assault on Malfoy Manor
---------------------------

A forewarning, a few of you may have to refer to chapters 12 and 13 of The Path Ahead to
understand the context of the flashback, if you can’t make any sense of it at all, let me know in
your review and I will try to explain it.

All right, here’s the beginning of the answers. No more plot setup (well, maybe a little), from
here on out we start to see the final rising towards the final battle. I realise the name of the
chapter spoils it a little, but try to forget that fact as you’re reading.

---------------

Chapter 11: Assault on Malfoy Manor

Harry and Moody both appeared in the atrium of the Ministry at the same time. It was obvious those
who were working there had been informed of the attack during the commemoration; there wasn’t a
witch or wizard in sight who was standing still. It took Harry and Moody five minutes to cross the
fifty feet to the lift and get in, and it was only by shouting, “Floor two, please!” that they
managed to have the button for their level pushed.

“Bloody madhouse,” Moody grumbled as he fished his key out for the special door. Muttering to
himself, he inserted it into the lock and swung the door open. Harry followed, and was surprised to
see his instructor stop at another door only one farther than the one he and Hermione usually
trained in. Harry noticed that instead of a keyhole, there was a space about a quarter inch deep, a
quarter inch wide, and three inches long in the otherwise flawless surface of the door.

“We’ve been next to Pettigrew all this time?” he asked with a frown.

“Yeah,” Moody growled, searching his pockets for something. “Not a whole lot of space down here,
Potter. Ah, here we are.” He pulled out a thin, silver rod with elaborate carvings on it, and
inserted it into the space on the door. “Works better than a key,” he growled, seeing Harry’s
confused look. “The carvings match magic patterns in the door. Kind of like them muggle eclectic
locks with cards and stuff.”

“Electric,” Harry corrected. A loud buzz sounded and Moody opened the door before removing the rod
and replacing it in his robes. Following his mentor inside, he noticed they were in a room very
similar to one he had seen in one of Dudley’s action movies once. It was completely dark, save for
a dim light coming through a large window that showed the room Pettigrew was being held in. He saw
that on Peter’s wrists were two blue, glowing cuffs, that weren’t chained to anything at all.

“Could I talk to him...alone?” Harry asked.

“I was hoping you’d ask that, actually,” Moody replied, fishing through his robes again and pulling
out a flask. “I need to see how well you can interrogate someone. We’ll make a lesson out of it.”
He handed the flask to Harry.

“What’s this for?” he asked, swirling around the faintly familiar purple contents.

“In case you need to persuade him to talk,” Moody said with a sadistic grin. Comprehension dawning
on Harry, he nodded. “Door’s open.” Without another word, he opened the door leading to the holding
cell Peter was in. With a quick look, he confirmed his suspicions that the window allowing watchers
from the other room was in fact a one-way mirror. Upon hearing someone enter the room, Peter looked
up and promptly cowered into one of the corners.

“Oh, come now, Pettigrew, no need to be scared,” Harry said with an evil grin. “Not unless you plan
on holding your tongue.”

“W-w-what do you want?” Peter stuttered.

“The truth,” Harry said simply.

“About?” Wormtail asked with a hint of relaxation, seeing that Harry wasn’t actually going to kill
him on the spot.

“When Lucius was killed you became Voldemort’s right-hand,” Harry said matter-of-factly, not caring
when his prey flinched at the sound of his master’s name. “We know there’s a spy in the ministry.
Who is it?”

“I-I don’t know,” he replied.

“Somehow I think you’re lying,” Harry said, removing the flask from his robes. “Do you know what
this is?” He held the flask in the light, making it barely discernable that it contained a dark
purple liquid. “I said, do you know what this is!” he bellowed when Pettigrew didn’t respond.
Hastily, he shook his head.

“You should,” Harry snorted. “You forced it down the throat of my fianceé.” Wormtail’s eyes widened
with the realisation of what the potion was. “Though, you’ll find we’ve altered this one a little
bit,” Harry lied, having a flash of inspiration. “This one doesn’t take three and a half days to
work. More like three and a half minutes.”

“W-wait!” Peter shouted, trying to stop Harry from advancing. “Please. Don’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Harry asked.

“I...I can’t tell you,” Wormtail spluttered.

“What, who the spy is, or why I should stop?” Harry asked.

“Both,” mumbled Pettigrew. Sighing, Harry removed the stopper from the flask and pointed his wand
at the cowering man.

“One last chance,” Harry said. Though Wormtail was visibly shaking from fear, he remained silent.
Using a spell he once saw in one of Hogwarts’ many tomes, he forced Pettigrew’s mouth open. He was
just about to pour the liquid down his throat when he had a sudden flashback.

*The two students pushed him into the wall and held him there as he whimpered.

“You will join the Dark Lord, Pettigrew,” said the first one again.

“Never,” spat Peter, who was still shaking. “Just wait until James and Sirius hear about this,
they’ll curse you into next year -“ He was interrupted by the loud thud of one of the student’s
fists connecting with his left cheek.

“You tell them,” the second one said. “And I promise you, Bertha will die a most unpleasant death.”
Peter’s eyes grew wide at this.

“Y-You wouldn’t,” he said through gritted teeth as a tear made its way down his cheek. The two
students pinning him to the wall laughed.*

“Perhaps there is an alternate way to solve this problem,” Harry said, stepping away and
re-stoppering the flask. Pettigrew breathed a sigh of relief at this. Harry was just about to speak
when he heard a buzz in his head and a soft tap on the glass of the mirror. “I’ll be back in a
minute,” he said.

Rushing to the door, he opened it to find Moody giving him a curious glance.

“What was that all about?” Moody asked once Harry had shut the door.

“I have an idea,” Harry said. “If it doesn’t work, then I’ll dump the potion down his
throat.”

“You have the antidote on you, right?” Moody asked. Harry pulled back his robes to unveil his
potion belt, and sure enough, in the first slot was the antidote that he had made during his first
potions lesson, along with two others. “All right, then,” he sighed. “Go back on in there.”

Harry mouthed a ‘thank you’ to his mentor and stepped back into the room. He conjured a chair for
himself, and sat down, reclining in it slightly.

“Who the spy is,” he said contemplatively, “that’s something very important that I need to know.
But it will have to wait for the moment. There’s something else I’ve been wanting to talk to you
about for a long time.”

“A-and what’s that?”

“Bertha Jorkins,” Harry said.

“Th-the witch that I brought to...to...”

“To Voldemort, before the Quidditch World Cup four years ago,” Harry interrupted. “Yes. Why did you
turn her over to him?”

“He would have wanted me to,” Peter replied simply. “And it turned out that doing that saved my
life.”

“So you would give a woman you were possibly in love with for many years to the Dark Lord without a
second though?” Harry asked with distaste. “Just to save your own skin?”

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wormtail said meekly.

“How could you not know?” Harry asked.

“Not know what?” Peter asked, his interrogator’s frustration worrying him. Harry furrowed his brow
and went into thought.

‘I couldn’t have dead-ended this so easily. How could he not remember her?’ Harry asked to
himself.

‘Maybe a powerful wizard put a memory charm on him,’ Hermione’s voice replied.

‘You can hear me?’ Harry asked, slightly surprised.

‘I’m standing next to Moody,” Hermione said. ‘Everyone was okay, and I wanted to be here for
this.’

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ Harry replied. ‘Both parts.’

‘Good. Well, get on with it already.’

Harry turned to face Peter and had an idea. He knew that Hermione was referring to Dumbledore’s
memory charm, but he had a feeling it was something else. The fact that Dumbledore was one of the
best spell casters in existence probably had something to do with it.

“Peter,” Harry said sweetly. “Do you know what it feels like to be under the Imperius Curse?”

“I...no,” he replied, confused. “Why?”

“Voldemort has never cast it on you?” Pettigrew shook his head. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Confused, Peter looked up at him. “I wonder,” Harry said, though more to himself than anyone else,
holding his wand in both hands. In a flash, he pointed it at Wormtail who had enough time to
recoil, but couldn’t do anything else as Harry shouted, “Restuto!”

Peter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he started to shake slightly. Knowing from past
experience with Remus that this was typical, he simply put his wand back in his robes and
interlaced his fingers, waiting for the target of his spell to come around.

It was about twenty seconds later when Pettigrew regained focus, and upon seeing Harry, his eyes
became as wide as saucers.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Harry asked with a sick smile. “Now then, tell me what Bertha
Jorkins meant to you.”

“My god....” whispered Pettigrew. “What have I done....?”

“Why don’t you tell me that?” Harry asked, glad to have gotten somewhere. “What did Bertha Jorkins
mean to you?”

“Harry...”

“Answer me!” Harry yelled. Pettigrew immediately recoiled and slumped down into the corner of the
cell.

“She...I killed her...” he whispered.

“I know that already,” Harry said, getting frustrated. “Peter...just tell me what happened with
her.”

“We were always really good friends,” he said softly. “I didn’t see much of her after she
graduated, but I always really liked her.”

“So why hand her over to Voldemort?” Harry asked.

“I...I don’t know why I did it,” Peter replied.

“May I venture a suggestion?” Harry asked, having a very good idea of why he *did* do it.
“Cast your mind back to, say, oh, I don’t know, summer of 1980.” Pettigrew looked up at this. “I
couldn’t tell you the exact date and time, I’m not you. But tell me about the very first time you
met Lord Voldemort.”

“He told me to join him or die,” Peter whimpered. “I didn’t want to refuse him.” Harry stood up and
walked over to Pettigrew.

“I know when I’m being lied to,” he said pointedly. “And I know you’re lying. I think perhaps, that
maybe it wasn’t that you didn’t want to refuse him, it was that you *couldn’t* refuse him. And
you’re embarrassed because of your weakness.” Pettigrew looked away, giving Harry all the
confirmation he needed.

“Well, let’s talk about it, then,” Harry said, narrating to the room. “Here you are, all alone,
walking somewhere, I would presume, when you’re accosted by some death eaters. You’re taken
captive, and thrust before Lord Voldemort himself. After pitifully begging he not kill you, he
performs a very complex version of a memory charm that instead of erasing memories, it alters them.
Having brainwashed you to believe you’re a death eater and loyal to him, you immediately turn on
James and Lily, resulting in their deaths. Does that sound about right so far?”

Pettigrew simply whimpered.

“Upon nursing your master back to health some five years ago, you encountered Bertha Jorkins, and
promptly subjected her to the full fury of the Dark Lord,” Harry continued. “Not remembering that
you ever cared for her, or who she was, it must’ve been quite easy for you. You always were strong
and confident when in a position of power, Peter.”

Wormtail still said nothing.

“You know,” Harry said, resuming his seat. “I think Sirius was wrong. All those years ago in the
Shrieking Shack, when he said that you were a traitor to Lily and James, you were never a traitor
by choice. You were simply too weak to let yourself be killed for your friends, and instead were
brainwashed into thinking that Lord Voldemort would lead you to the promised land. Just like a
typical cultist. Is that accurate?”

Pettigrew did nothing but lay curled up in his corner, although it seemed he had started to sob
slightly. Grumbling, Harry got up and was about to exit the room to talk with Hermione and Moody,
when his captive’s voice stopped him.

“Harry...I was too weak....too weak to save James and Lily. And you saved my life from Remus and
Sirius.”

“I know that already,” Harry said, turning to look at him.

“They...they gave me friendship when no one else would, and I turned on them,” he whimpered. “I’ll
tell you what you want to know...”

“But?” Harry asked when Peter had trailed off.

“You have to promise me to keep me locked in this cell,” Pettigrew answered. “Not anywhere else.
Especially not Azkaban. Here. I-I-I can’t be set free...the death eaters will hunt me down now that
I remember the truth. Or worse, he’ll find me and make me think I’m a death eater again.”

Harry turned and looked at the mirror for confirmation.

‘Moody says that’ll be doable,’ Hermione said in his head. He nodded once and sat back down on the
chair.

“Okay, then,” Harry said, taking a deep breath and sitting back down in the chair. “Let’s try this
one more time. Who is Voldemort’s spy in the ministry?”

“Draco Malfoy,” Peter replied. Inwardly, Harry frowned. Although he had a feeling all along that it
was Draco, he had hoped differently. “At least he was.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“When I got captured, he was still working for You-Know-Who,” Peter said. “Although, the Dark Lord
always thought his loyalties were to be questioned. I don’t know if he’s still a spy or not.”

“Saving Ginny, was that part planned?” Harry asked.

“On the Hogwarts Express last year?” Peter asked, prompting Harry to nod. “Yes, that was a setup.
Lucius and the others had two objectives. The first was get Hermione from you, the second was to
attack Ginny and have Draco save her. It would get him in good graces with everyone.”

“What about afterwards?” Harry asked.

“He was to try to set up a relationship with her, and eventually get in to the Order of the
Phoenix,” Pettigrew said. “Either way, he was going to be let in to the ministry on Lucius’
name.”

“Draco killed his father, though,” Harry said. “You know that. How could he still be a spy after
murdering one of Voldemort’s inner circle?”

“Lucius had gotten on You-Know-Who’s bad side,” Peter replied. “He had failed in just about every
task before finally managing to capture Hermione and the other girl Ginny. Draco was ordered to
kill his father in front of you all to ‘prove’ that he was no longer on the Dark Lord’s side. The
Vulnero Draught that Hermione and Ginny drank was never the version to cause bleeding. It was all a
ruse to get you and Draco to come and rescue the girls. The Malfoy’s house-elf had been given
instructions to listen to Draco, not Lucius, and so everything you found out from him was set up
too.

“Lucius never knew of these plans though,” Peter continued. “He was fed the same story you were,
and believed every word of it. Draco murdered him, as instructed, and by doing so not only got into
the ministry, but the good graces of Dumbledore and the Weasley family.”

“And now he’s a part of the Order...” Harry growled. “How do you know all this? I thought Voldemort
never told *all* his plans to one servant.”

“I already knew that Draco was a spy working for us,” Peter said. “Once Lucius was dead, I took
over as the Dark Lord’s second, and he told me why what had happened was a success.”

“What was Draco to do after all of this?” Harry asked.

“Use his position to his advantage,” Pettigrew said. “If he couldn’t get into the Order, he was to
slowly take over the ministry.”

“God damnit,” Harry muttered. Making up his mind, he quickly stood and Peter recoiled. “I’m not
going to hurt you, Peter.”

“I....I’m sorry, Harry,” he sobbed, returning to some of his former pitifulness.

“So am I,” Harry replied. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you for not giving your
life for my parents, just like they would have done for you.” He squatted down next to the shaking
heap of a man. “But I appreciate what you’ve just done for us. If it makes any difference, I think
that my parents and Sirius appreciate it too, wherever they are.”

Harry stood up and walked away, leaving the room just as Peter broke out in hysterical sobs.

He didn’t say anything to Moody or Hermione as he stormed past them and out of the room. Even
Hermione’s shouts couldn’t halt him. It wasn’t until he was nearly at the lift and Moody seized his
arm that he finally stopped and turned around. When he did, he eyes weren’t of their normal green,
but a flaming red.

“Potter, where do you think you’re going,” Moody growled, not letting go of Harry’s arm as Hermione
came running up behind them.

“To get that son-of-a-bitch,” he replied in an equally low growl. “Now let go of me before I make
you.”

“Today is Malfoy’s day off,” Moody said, not letting go, though loosening his grip slightly. “Not
surprising, really.”

“Harry, please,” Hermione begged, terrified of the evil glow in his eyes. “Don’t make any rash
decisions.”

Slowly, the red tinge faded from his gaze, and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to get ahold of him so badly.”

“And we will,” Mood replied, finally completely releasing his grip on Harry’s arm. “We just need to
go about it the right way.”

“And what way is that?” Harry asked.

“Stealth,” Moody replied with a crooked smile. “We’ll simply remove him from his home, but we’ll do
it quietly.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Hermione asked.

“Without the proper paperwork, yeah,” Moody replied. “But seeing as how Kingsley happens to be a
‘good friend’, I doubt anything will come of it, even if we’re caught.”

“What happens if we’re not caught?” Harry inquired.

“Malfoy becomes a prisoner of the Order,” Moody responded with an evil grin. “Your interrogation of
Pettigrew wasn’t recorded, not by an official source, anyway. Right now, the ministry has no record
of Draco ever being a spy. If we capture him without raising any alarms, we can take him to
headquarters and...what is it that muggles say? ‘Have our way with him’?”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s what you mean,” Harry grimaced. “But I get the idea. Who’s going with
us?”

“Just us three,” Moody replied. “Can’t take anyone else without arousing suspicion. Besides, you
two are better fighters than most of the people here as it is.” Harry glanced at Hermione.

“I’m coming, and nothing you say will change my mind,” she said before Harry could say
anything.

“I was only going to ask if you were sure you wanted to get involved in this,” he said.

“Well, you have my answer,” Hermione replied.

“All right. Let’s get moving then,” Harry said with a sigh. Moody nodded and they stepped into the
lift.

“Malfoy Manor is located on the very top of Mosshead Hill in Wiltshire,” he said as the arrived at
the lobby. “Apparate to the village in the valley below. The entire hill is Malfoy property, so we
can’t apparate any closer or we’ll trip off wards.” Harry and Hermione nodded once to show their
assent before Moody disappeared with a pop.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, and before Hermione could respond, he disapparated.

=====

He reappeared in a back alley between two wooden buildings. Moody promptly shushed him as Hermione
popped in next to them.

“All right,” Moody said, drawing his wand. “Take out your wands.” They did as told and he promptly
tapped them with his own. All three glowed slightly pink before returning to their normal color.
“Good. That’ll let us –”

“Communicate through our wands,” Harry finished. “Krum used it last year when we were rescuing the
women,” he added, seeing Moody’s appraising look.

“Right then,” he said. “Now walk with me.” He walked out of the alley onto an empty street and
turned left. Harry and Hermione followed him and quickly fell in step. “This is one of the smaller
all-wizard villages,” he said as they walked at a reasonable pace.

“Shouldn’t we be a bit more cautious?” Hermione asked. “Walking around in broad daylight like this
for everyone to see?”

“No one here will have heard of us, much less know what we’re here for,” Moody replied. “Probably
the only village in all of England that doesn’t know who You-Know-Who is.”

“Why is that?” Harry asked as they passed a small pub.

“Too isolated,” Moody replied. “The Prophet won’t deliver out here, they don’t have an owl station
for about two hundred and fifty miles, and the wireless doesn’t get any reception. It’s perfect for
the Malfoys, they could have as many death eater meetings as they wanted an no one would suspect a
thing.”

“Won’t seeing outsiders in such an isolated place *cause* suspicion?” Hermione asked

“Nah, it would just be pub talk for a couple days,” Moody said. “No one in this town is wealthy
enough to leave and tell anyone except for the Malfoys, and they’re not the most popular people
around here. That’s why they live up there.” He pointed to a large mound of Earth that could hardly
be described as a small hill.

Standing easily 3,000 feet tall, the ‘hill’ was not what one would consider ‘unusual’. Covered in a
lush, green forest that ran all the way up the sides until the very top, it looked as natural as
anything in nature would. The only exception was the bit of black, bare rock exposed at the very
top, along with a small speck, which was undoubtedly Malfoy Manor.

“*That’s* Mosshead Hill?” Hermione asked skeptically. “That’s a mountain!”

“Yeah, well,” Moody grumbled. “We get to climb it.”

“You’re joking, right?” Harry asked, staring skeptically at the mansion situated probably more than
a half mile above the ground on which they were standing.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to do this in the first place,” Moody growled as they reached a
trail that led up the tree-covered mountain. “Now it’s unwise for us to all go up the same path. I
know there’s no separating you two, but I’m taking the way up on the other side.”

“You won’t trip anything by apparating over there?” Harry asked.

“No, I’ll make sure I go a safe distance away when I reappear,” he replied. “Now listen carefully.
There are sure to be wards placed all around the mountain. You can’t dispel them, it’ll set off
alarms. You have to go around them.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Harry asked.

“Well we didn’t spend any time preparing, so we don’t have a layout of the area,” Moody said.
“However, you wands should react whenever you near one of the wards. Nifty side effect of the
communication spell.”

“Let’s get moving then,” Hermione said. Moody nodded once and disappeared.

“You nervous?” Harry asked as they started trudging up the hill.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” Hermione admitted. “This is my first ‘raid’ after all.”

“It’s not that bad,” Harry said. “Just gotta be ‘vigilant’.” They stopped when a crackling started
emitting from Harry’s wand. He took it out and found that instead of a ward being nearby, Moody was
simply talking to him.

“You on your way, Potter?” came his voice through the wood.

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, continuing up the trail with Hermione.

“Good, listen, only talk if you really have to,” Moody said. “Some of the wards are attuned for
sound.”

“Not a problem,” replied Harry. “What do you want us to do when we get to the top?”

“I’ll find you,” Moody said. “Lay low near the edge of the forest, but stay on alert.”

“Gotcha,” Harry said.

“Over and out.”

‘Well, it looks like we’ll be talking like this the whole way up,’ Harry said silently.

‘At least we still have the ability to talk,’ Hermione replied.

It took them the greater part of two hours to finally reach the forest’s edge near the summit.
There hadn’t been as many wards as Moody suspected; Harry and Hermione only had to re-route their
course four times throughout the hike. After waiting for about ten minutes, they heard some
branches near them rustle, and Moody stepped into view.

“Glad to see you made it,” Harry whispered.

“No time for pleasantries,” Moody said, eyeing the mansion.

Despite looking small from the bottom of Mosshead Hill, Malfoy Manor was easily half the size of
Hogwarts. Standing four stories tall, the entire exterior was made out of gray marble, with ivy
vines running up and down the sides. ‘Typical Slytherin colors,’ Harry thought.

“I did a scan of the area on my way over here, and the best odds we have of entering are through
the kitchen window,” Moody said, pointing at the right side of the house. “No wards to avoid by
going that way.” Harry and Hermione nodded, and the three of them made their way around the edge of
the forest until they were facing the side of the mansion that the kitchen was on.

“What if we’re seen?” Harry asked. Moody responded by hitting him hard on the head with his hand,
and he felt the familiar sensation of a Disillusionment Charm on him. Hermione, not wanting to be
hit by Moody, put it on herself, and their instructor quickly followed suit.

“Right then,” Moody whispered. “Let’s go.”

Moody went first, Hermione in the middle, and Harry brought up the rear. He listened so as to know
where Hermione was standing at a given time so he didn’t bump into her. About a minute later, they
were next to the manor, standing beside a closed window. He heard Moody give the window a quick
ward-check with his wand, before he heard him mutter ‘Alohomora.’ The latch on the window clicked
and Moody slid it open. Harry listened carefully as he heard one person climb in through the
window, then another. Holstering his wand, he climbed up into the kitchen and found that Moody and
Hermione had taken the charm off. Tapping himself on the head, he removed the charm and slowly his
body reappeared.

“Good,” whispered Moody as softly as he could while closing the window and re-locking it. “Now
let’s find Draco without attracting attention. If you have to cast any spells, do it silently.”
Harry and Hermione nodded in understanding as they quietly left the kitchen and found themselves in
a long hall, with a set of stairs at the end of it.

‘Let Moody know we should try upstairs first,’ Harry said silently. Hermione tapped Moody on the
shoulder and silently pointed towards the ceiling when he looked at her. Nodding, he made his way
to the stairs and slowly started walking up them, all the time keeping his back to the wall.

Harry was thankful that everything in the mansion seemed to be pristine and well kept, he didn’t
know what would happen if the stairs had creaked during their ascent. Reaching the landing on the
second floor, Moody’s eye swivelled around and he nodded up at the ceiling, telling them they
needed to go higher.

As they reached the third landing, Harry saw that one of the door across from them was open. He
gasped inwardly as he noticed that the room was carpeted and the walls were a deep green, along
with a silver, serpentine chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The fireplace, thankfully, was not
full of purple flames at the moment.

‘We have to hurry,’ Harry said to Hermione as they continued up to the top floor. ‘Voldemort might
be here.’ She turned to face him with eyes wide.

‘How do you know?’ she asked.

‘That room,’ he said nodding at the room on the landing below them. ‘It was the one I saw in my
dream with Voldemort a month ago.’

‘If he’s here, let’s hope Moody sees him before he sees us,’ Hermione said as they reached the top
landing and Moody halted them.

‘If he’s here,’ Harry replied. ‘We’re all screwed already.’

Silently, Moody used two fingers and pointed left down the hall. Understanding, Harry quickly but
silently moved to the other side of the closed door. He could hear papers rustling from inside.
Hermione stayed on the side of the door closer to the stairwell, and Moody stood directly in front
of it, wand aimed right at the oak.

Moody nodded at Harry, and he put his hand on the doorknob. Harry could feel Hermione’s nervousness
grow, but before she had time to think about it, he had flung the door open and Moody had sent a
stunner right at a wide-eyed Draco Malfoy. The beam of light hit him right in the chest, and he
collapsed on top of the desk he was behind.

“Quick, grab him,” Moody hissed as the three of the rushed into the room. Harry quickly bound
Draco’s hands and feet with ropes while Moody hastily shoved all the parchment that was on the desk
into his robes. “Apparate back to headquarters,” he said. “It doesn’t matter if you set off the
alarms on the way out, it’ll be too late for them to do anything.”

Moody and Hermione disappeared instantly with a pop, and just before Harry disapparated with Draco,
he swore he saw the same red eyes that haunted his dreams floating in the doorway.

---------------

A long chapter to write. Just a quick snippet of what’s to come:

If you think what Harry *almost* did to Pettigrew in the chapter was bad, wait for the next
one.



12. The Interrogation Of Draco Malfoy
-------------------------------------

Right. Here’s the part where I say I’m sorry and beg for your forgiveness for missing an update.
Real life caught up with me these past two weeks (sickness and work), and I was unable to come up
with a chapter that satisfied me before last Friday. Sorry. Hopefully you’ll at least be pleased
with this one.

All right ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time of the year again! No, not your local car dealer’s
President’s Day sale, it’s time for an ECN (that stand for Estimated Chapter Number, for those of
you who don’t know). When I get about two-thirds of the way through any of my fics, I like to try
to let the reader know about how many chapters there will be in total. Well, after contemplation
and discussion with the muse, I have come to the decision that there will be a total of 17
chapters, plus a small epilogue. Therefore, the tentative series finale date is set at April 9th. I
hope that it will be well worth the wait.

On with the show!

---------------

Chapter 12: The Interrogation of Draco Malfoy

Harry landed quite ungracefully with a thud on the floor of the basement kitchen in Number 12,
Grimmauld Place, with Draco right next to him. In an instant he had his wand drawn and was looking
around his surroundings, unable to erase the vision of the glowing, red eyes from his mind.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, Potter?” Moody asked, walking over and picking Malfoy up off the
ground.

“It’s Voldemort,” he said, still looking about the room. “He was there.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Moody said, dumping Draco unceremoniously in a chair. “I would’ve seen him.”

“Oh, come off it, Moody!” Harry exclaimed, putting his wand away at last. “He’s the most powerful
Dark Lord in over a century. I would think he could avoid being detected by even your eye if he so
desired.”

“Harry...calm down,” Hermione said tentatively.

“How can you tell me to be calm?!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “Apparition can be
traced! He could very well know where we are right now –”

“No, he *couldn’t*,” Hermione stressed, cutting him off. “He could trace us all he wants, but
if you’ve forgotten, Grimmauld Place is under the Fidellius Charm. He couldn’t possibly know where
we went unless Dumbledore told him the secret, and I think even *that* is a bit of a stretch.”
Harry thought about this for a moment before sighing and slumping down into a chair.

“...I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But I did see him. His eyes, anyway.”

“His eyes?” Moody asked.

“His eyes,” Harry repeated. “I would know that damn gaze anywhere. Thin, almost snake-like, and
glowing red.”

“Well, if he *was* there, why did he let us get away with Draco?” Hermione asked. “Great and
powerful wizard that he is, you’d think he could stop us.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to...” Harry thought aloud, looking over at an unconscious Draco.

“He’s the spy,” Hermione said. “Why on Earth would he want to lose a spy?”

“Well, if he knew that *we* knew,” Moody said. “What would be the point of engaging us? It’d
just cause an unnecessary commotion, and if one of us managed to get away it would be almost the
same as us escaping with Draco. He’d be useless anyway. And if on the long shot, we actually
managed to win a battle...well, let’s just leave it at the fact that it was a break even or lose
proposition for him.”

“Maybe so,” Harry said. “But there’s only one way to find out.” He quickly drew his wand at pointed
it at Draco. “Incarcerous. Aquas.”

Thick, yellow ropes sprouted from the end of his wand and tied Draco firmly to the chair before a
stream of cold, blue water hit Malfoy in the face. Draco quickly regained consciousness and shook
his head, only to realise that he was bound to the chair he was sitting in.

“What in the...?”

“Good to have you back, Draco,” Harry drawled. Malfoy looked up at his captors and his brow
furrowed.

“What do you want, Potter?” he asked coldly. “And why am I tied to this chair? Let me go.”

“He’s all tied up at our mercy after being found out and yet he still thinks he can order us
around,” Harry snorted to Moody and Hermione. “Hasn’t learned from our Hogwarts days. Cheeky little
bugger, isn’t he?”

“What are you talking about?” Draco asked. “I haven’t done anything wrong. In fact, you had no
business coming to my house and attacking me! I’ll have your head for this!” Harry grinned
menacingly and leaned over the table at his captive.

“Oh believe me Draco,” he said softly. “Once Pettigrew testifies under Veritaserum that you were
Voldemort’s spy...my head is the last thing you’ll ever get to have.”

“Spy?” Draco asked. “What are you on about? I’m not a spy –”

Harry backhanded Draco across the face, prompting Moody to step forward.

“Harry....” Hermione said, but his voice drowned out whatever she was going to say next.

“Bollocks!” he yelled. “You’re the reason the Weasleys were attacked! Hermione almost died because
you leaked information to Voldemort that they were returning to the Burrow! You let him know about
Sirius’ commemoration! AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO TELL ME YOU’RE INNOCENT?!”

“Calm down for a moment, will you?” Draco asked wincing at the purpling bruise forming on his right
cheek. He sighed and looked at the floor before recapturing Harry’s gaze. “I want a deal.”

“You get to live,” Harry replied. “That’s your deal.”

“No,” Draco countered. “I want to be guaranteed freedom when my name finally gets cleared, along
with the expunging of the arrest record, if there is any.”

“And how is your name going to get cleared?” Moody asked. “Going to have one of Voldemort’s lackeys
pay off some of the higher ups?”

“No, you twit!” Malfoy yelled. “I’ll get cleared because I’m innocent!”

“Bullshit,” Harry said. “You’re a spy, and you know it.”

“I *WAS* A SPY!” Draco bellowed. “I’m not anymore!”

“Since when?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms. “Three minutes ago?”

“Since....since Ginny told me she loved me,” Draco sighed, looking down. Harry snorted.

“Prove it,” he said.

“Well I can’t, obviously,” Draco said. “Which is why I want the deal granting my freedom before I
tell you anything.” Harry pursed his lips and turned to Moody.

“I can’t guarantee anything,” the aged auror said. “But Kingsley is a good friend of mine. If you
turn out to be innocent, I’ll do my absolute best to make sure you’re released.”

“AND have my criminal record expunged?” Draco asked. Moody sighed but nodded nonetheless. “Fine.
Where do you want me to begin?”

“A wise man once told me it’s wise to start at the beginning, talk until you reach the end, and
then stop,” Harry said quoting something Dumbledore had once said to him. “Why don’t we try
that?”

“All right,” Draco said with a sigh. “The plan was formed in our sixth year, right after the
student body was told about the impending attack in Hogsmeade.”

“What plan?” Hermione asked.

“Are you going to let me tell you the story or not?” Draco asked, annoyed. “Anyway,” he continued.
“When we, we being my father and I, found out that you knew about the attacks, we told the Dark
Lord about it. He seemed to think this was a good thing, for whatever reason.”

“So what did you do?” Moody asked.

“Nothing,” replied Draco. “I was to stay in the castle during the attack. My father along with many
others would still storm the village as planned.”

“But that didn’t really work out all that well, did it?” Harry asked.

“On the contrary, it worked perfectly,” Draco said. “The aim was never to kill you there, Potter.
Why do you think he purposely let slip the plan? He knew that if you knew, you would be there in
full force, along with any ‘weaknesses’ you may have.” He looked pointedly at Hermione as he said
this. “The Dark Lord found out that you had a soft spot for Granger, and he managed to kill
Lovegood and Weasley. The party that commenced in His name that night was extraordinary, or so I’m
told.”

“Couldn’t you have just told him all this information yourself?” Hermione asked.

“I did,” Draco answered. “But that wouldn’t have killed Ron and Luna. He knew that. He also seemed
to want to verify the information in person.”

“All right,” Harry said. “Continue.”

“The entire plan for what happened a few months ago was thought of in the summer between sixth and
seventh year,” Draco said. “It was all a setup. There were two main objectives. My father and the
death eaters he had with him were to capture Granger after attacking the train.”

“What was the second?” Moody asked.

“For me to save Ginny,” Draco replied. “I was supposed to be in the same car as hers when my father
attacked to make it look like I had truly defected to Dumbledore’s side when the time came for
that. The portkey story I told you about half a year ago was only part true. There was a portkey,
but I didn’t create it. It was all timed perfectly so that the attack would coincide with the time
I would need to save Ginny. The portkey was setup based upon the speed of the train and where it
would be upon activation. The coordinates weren’t a lucky guess on my part, it was all
pre-planned.”

“What about when you killed your father?” Harry asked.

“He pissed off the Dark Lord,” Draco said with a shrug. “He didn’t only fail with Granger, you
know. There were tons of other things that he failed on as well.”

“Like what?” asked Hermione.

“Well, it all started back in our second year, didn’t it?” Draco responded. “He failed to bring Tom
Riddle back to life with the diary. Then before our fourth year he was with all the death eaters at
the Quidditch World Cup. The Dark Lord never really forgave any of them for that, torturing muggles
and whatnot but not doing it in his name. Then in fifth year he failed to obtain the prophecy.
After he failed to get Granger, he was given some mundane tasks such as getting potions ingredients
from shopkeepers he knew in Knockturn Alley. Turns out, none of them wanted anything to do with him
after his name started being constantly mentioned in the same sentence as ‘death eater’.”

“I thought Knockturn Alley catered to death eaters,” Hermione said.

“Not consciously,” Draco replied. “They may do business with some that they don’t know about, but
the Ministry keeps very close tabs on what happens in there. If they know that it’s a death eater
they’re sellling to or buying from, they’ll have them out of the shop quicker than you can say
quidditch.”

“How could shop owners stop death eaters?” Harry asked. “You would think that a servant of
Voldemort would win in a duel.”

“Knockturn Alley is a rough place, Potter,” Draco said. “If you’ve been there you would
know.”

“I have been there, and I *do* know,” Harry retorted.

“Then you would know that one would have to be insane to own a shop there and not have
protection.”

“What kind of protection?” Hermione asked. “Like the mafia?”

“Organised muggle crime,” Draco scoffed. “Paying people to protect you, only to get brutally killed
when you become late on a payment? Not likely. Wizards prefer a more safe way of protecting their
stores.”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

“Goblins,” answered Draco simply.

“I’ve never seen a goblin in any shop I’ve been in,” Harry said. “Knockturn Alley or
otherwise.”

“You’ll find that goblins are a lot like Dumbledore,” Draco said. “They can avoid being seen if
they wish.”

“So how do goblins protect the shops?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, they have their ways,” Draco replied with a sadistic smile. “They may have lost the old wars
and rebellions, but wizards never forget what they’re capable of. Wizards who know what they’re
capable of, anyway.”

“All right,” Harry said. “So Lucius couldn’t get these ingredients. What happened then?”

“Our master gave him an ultimatum,” Draco replied. “Of course, in my mind I stopped thinking about
him like that much earlier but –”

“Hold it just a minute,” Moody interrupted. “I happen to know from a very reliable source that
You-Know-Who is a master Legillimens. How could you possibly fool him into thinking you were still
on his side if you really weren’t?”

“One of the advantages to being Snape’s favorite student,” Malfoy said. “Is that he looks after
you. He had a notion very early on that I would need more than just potion-brewing abilities to get
anywhere in life. He started mentoring me in Occlumency in my second year.”

“Did anyone know about this?” Harry asked.

“Dumbledore did,” Draco replied. “Or so Snape told me.”

“Go on,” Moody said after a moment, apparently satisfied.

“Anyway, the Dark Lord told my father that he had one last chance. He was to capture Granger and
Ginny, and bring them back to him.”

“What if he failed?” Hermione asked.

“He was told not to return without them,” Draco said. “It was the Dark Lord’s final chance to my
father to flee and save his own life. All the rest of the death eaters knew he was a dead man if he
returned, with or without the girls. He was too stupid to realise it though, and although he
succeeded, I was ordered to kill him.”

“To help strengthen the illusion that you were on our side,” Harry said, more as a statement than a
question.

“That’s right,” Draco replied. “He didn’t know about the order to terminate his life, obviously, so
his reaction was quite authentic, as you might recall.”

“What about Kreacher?” Hermione asked. Draco cracked a small smile at this.

“Kreacher, being the filth that he is, obeyed the Dark Lord to no end. More so than my family. He
was ordered by him in person to come with me and act as though I had been unfaithful to my
‘master’. When we were in Dumbledore’s office later wondering what became of him, it was an act on
my part. I had been ordered to free him from the bond once his task was done. I couldn’t do
otherwise, it would have given me away.”

“All right, fast forward to the attack on the Weasleys,” Hermione said. “How do you explain
that?”

“At that point in time, I had started losing prestige among the death eater ranks,” he replied.
“They thought I was half-assing my duties, and truth be told I was. I didn’t know about the attack
on the Weasleys until after it had already happened.”

“You expect us to believe that?” Harry asked. “After all you supposedly went through in an act as a
spy? You should’ve taken over as Voldemort’s right-hand man. I can’t believe that he wouldn’t let
you in on that plan.”

“While Snape is a master occlumens, I unfortunately do not possess the raw talent that he has for
the practice. The Dark Lord began to sense that I might not be completely trustworthy, and started
treating me as such.”

“This is starting to stretch a bit, but go on,” Harry said, crossing his arms. “Tell me why you
broke up with Ginny when you did.” At this, Draco’s face fell noticeably.

“I...it’s....it’s embarrassing,” he said sullenly.

“You’ve been a double-agent and we don’t really know whether to believe you or not,” Harry said.
“Your family’s name is mud. How could you worry about being embarrassed after all of this?”

“I lied to her,” Draco said, looking up. “I told her I loved her.”

“But you didn’t,” Hermione said as a statement.

“I came to care for her as a sister...she helped me change from the monster I had become with the
Dark Lord...but I could never love her the way she deserved to be loved.”

“So instead of telling her the truth, you dumped her, lied to her again, and endangered her entire
family,” Harry said. “Good plan.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Draco spat. “I did what I did to try to keep her safe.”

“Well, that worked out well,” Hermione said spitefully.

“Oh come off it!” Draco shouted. “If I had told her everything, and then they found out, she’d be
dead before any of you could blink an eye. It doesn’t matter what the Order thinks they can do, all
it takes is three-tenths of a second to point a wand and say the words before she’s cold and
lifeless.”

“Okay,” said Harry, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Suppose we believe you for a minute.
Suppose *I* believe you for a minute. Why not tell the Order what was going on? Why keep
everyone in the dark? We could have kept you safe.”

“Did you not just hear my answer?” Draco asked. “You really are as daft as I made you out to be.
There’s a spy. You don’t know who it is, you don’t know who it could be. For all you know it could
be someone in the Order. What if it is?”

Harry, Hermione, and Moody shared a wary look with each other at these words. Finally after a
moment, Harry pulled them over into a corner of the room.

“What do you think?” Harry asked them. “You are the expert here, Moody.”

“I don’t know what to think,” the old wizard said. “All the evidence is against him, but I’m pretty
good at reading people. I think he’s telling the truth.”

“His story does match Pettigrew’s,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “And it would make sense. Peter
would still think he was the spy.”

“If that is the case though...” Harry said, not wanting to think about the possibility of there
being another spy. Sighing, he turned around and faced Draco. “As of right now, we’re not making
any decisions. We’ll hold you here until we can tell Dumbledore everything and he can decide what
to do with you.”

“I suppose asking for something to drink would be a bit much?” Draco asked. A brilliant idea
suddenly crossed Harry’s mind.

“As punishment for your crimes,” he said imperiously, though inside he was grinning madly. “You
shall be taken care of by –”

“Did someone ask for a drink?” a small voice asked, followed by a crack announcing the arrival of a
house-elf.

“Dobby,” Harry finished. Malfoy’s eyes widened.

“Um....master Harry....sir...I don’t....I don’t thinks it is a good idea for me to be taking care
of Malfoy...”

“He is our prisoner right now, Dobby,” Hermione said. “Treat him as such.”

“....Very well, Miss Hermione,” Dobby said after much hesitation, and with two loud cracks, both he
and Draco disappeared.

“I know house-elves can’t really hurt anyone,” Moody said with a grin. “But that ought’a be
good.”

“I agree,” Harry said. “Now, I’m really exhausted with all that’s happened today. I hope you won’t
mind if I go to bed now.”

“Not at all, Potter,” Moody said. “And by the way, you did an excellent job today. I’m
impressed.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You too, Granger. Good work.”

“Thanks, sir,” Hermione said, her cheeks showing a tinge of pink.

“I’m off to find Dumbledore and let him know what’s happened. I’ll see you two on Monday then,”
Moody said. Without another word, he disapparated.

“Are you coming to bed?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied as they made their way out of the basement kitchen and up the stairs. “I
can barely see straight.”

They continued up to the third floor, pausing briefly on the stairs to confirm that it was indeed
Dobby singing at the top of his lungs somewhere in the house. Smiling, they reached Harry’s room
and didn’t bother to undress before collapsing on the bed, exhausted.

“What a day,” Harry commented.

“Understatement of the year,” Hermione muttered. She turned over so she was on her side, facing
him. “Do you think he’s guilty?”

“Honestly?” Harry asked. Hermione nodded. “No,” he answered after a minute.

“I agree,” she said. “His story, while a bit far-fetched does make perfect sense.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “Though if he is telling the truth, we now have a big problem on our
hands.”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked.

“There’s still a spy in the Ministry, they somehow always know what we’re doing, and now we have
absolutely no clues or leads to go on.”

“Why wouldn’t Pettigrew know?” she asked.

“Voldemort isn’t stupid,” Harry replied. “If he didn’t tell Peter, he didn’t tell anyone else. That
much is obvious. The only two people who know who the spy is right now are Voldemort and the spy
himself.”

“So what do we do?” Hermione asked. Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“I don’t know.”

---------------

Nothing to say here. Please review. Remember, it takes you only a minute of your time to make my
entire day. ;)



13. Weasley Surprise
--------------------

So, right. After some reconsideration, there won’t be an epilogue. Just a straight 18 chapters.
I think it’ll be easier to finish that way.

---------------

Chapter 13: Weasley Surprise

Harry awoke and immediately felt the familiar presence of Hermione missing from beside him.
Wondering where she was, he got up and stumbled into the bathroom, preparing for a shower to help
regain his senses for the day.

After holding Malfoy for three weeks, the leads had got fewer and farther between. If it weren’t
for the fact that Harry’s scar had started tingling constantly, he would have thought Voldemort and
his death eaters had fallen off the face of the earth. It was unnerving Harry to no end that after
Draco’s capture, all muggle-torturing activity had ceased. It also made him wonder if Draco had
really been telling him the truth or not.

Sighing, he stepped into the hot spray of water and let it wash over him. He vaguely remembered
that today was important for some reason, but couldn’t put his finger on it. Deciding he would just
have Hermione tell him when he found her later, he grabbed a washcloth and soaped it up
thoroughly.

According to Moody, Dumbledore had been slightly surprised to hear that they had already captured
Malfoy (and coming from Dumbledore, this was saying something). Apparently he had a feeling that
Draco was not working entirely for their cause, but didn’t expect Harry to act so quickly on it. He
had advised Harry, Hermione, and Moody that the Order could be told that a prisoner was being kept,
but the identity would remain secret. Most of them believed the story and thought it was just a
routine death eater.

Ten minutes later he stepped out of the shower, grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his
waist. Not bothering to dry himself thoroughly, he walked back into the bedroom, grabbed his wand,
and muttered a drying spell on himself just as Hermione walked through the door.

“Where were you this morning?” Harry asked, dropping his towel and pulling on a pair of
boxers.

“Apparently not in the right place,” she replied with a mischievous grin as he pulled on a pair of
pants.

“Well you could give me a nice ‘hello’ to make up for it,” Harry said with a smile.

“I think that could be in order,” Hermione said as she walked up to Harry and kissed him soundly on
the lips.

“Now that that’s over with,” he said once she pulled away. “How come you were up so early?”

“Hmm....I don’t think I can tell you that,” Hermione said with a smile as he pulled on a
shirt.

“And why not?” Harry asked.

“Because I can’t,” she replied with a grin.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with singing lessons for Dobby, does it?” he asked. “Not that I
feel bad for Malfoy or anything but...I kinda feel bad for Malfoy.” Hermione laughed

“Yeah, he really does need to improve a bit, doesn’t he?”

“I’d say, ‘A bit’, is a bit of an understatement,” Harry said sitting down on the bed to pull on
his socks. “Oh, I wanted to ask you, are we doing anything special today? I could’ve sworn there
was something important that we needed to do but I can’t remember it for the life of me.”

“I think I know what you’re talking about,” Hermione said. “Why don’t we talk about it over
breakfast?”

“Er...okay,” Harry replied as they walked out of the room and down the stairs. “You know...you’ve
been acting a little...energetic this morning. Any reason?”

“Not at all,” Hermione said in a sing-song voice while looking determinedly at the ceiling. Harry
sighed as they reached the door to the basement kitchen.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or – ”

“SURPRISE!!!”

Harry blinked as he looked around the kitchen which was decked out in red and gold streamers with
muggle glitter shining on the paper. The entire Weasley clan with the exception of Percy was
scattered throughout the room watching him with eager eyes. Sitting next to Charlie was Hagrid
(whose head, while sitting, came up to the ceiling). Fred and George were sporting party hats
(which were undoubtedly Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes originals) that spouted off random party
noises, and Bill and Ginny were off in the corner and covered in red and gold glitter.

Molly and Arthur were sitting next to Remus and Tonks at the table which looked like it was
straining under the weight of a heaping pile of gifts and a large pan cake with ‘Happy Birthday
Harry!’ written in green icing on the top. Moody was standing in the corner next to a very
uncharacteristic Professor McGonagal, who, for the first time in Harry’s memory, looked as though
she finally did ‘let her hair down’. Dumbledore, meanwhile, was simply standing there taking in his
surroundings sporting a very Luna-like smile, while David and Emma Granger just sat marveling at
the magical decorations. Chuckling to himself, Harry turned and looked at Hermione.

“You *think* I know what I’m talking about?” he asked sarcastically.

“So I did know what you were talking about,” she replied. “No harm done.”

“What’s she talking about mate?” Ron asked, floating next to the cake while sneaking occasional
glances at it.

“I forgot what today was,” Harry muttered sheepishly.

“You forgot your own birthday?” Ginny asked incredulously.

“Now it’s not something to be ashamed of,” Dumbledore interjected, causing everyone in the room to
turn and look at him. “I myself have forgotten at least twenty of mine.”

“Barking mad...” Ron muttered under his breath, though in the silence of the stunned room, is was
clearly audible to everyone.

“Mad I may be, Ronald,” Dumbledore said with the familiar twinkle in his eyes. “But unless I have
somehow managed a second animagus transformation, I doubt you will see me barking any time
soon.”

“What’s your first, sir?” Harry asked curiously.

“That, you will find out when the need for my transformation comes,” the headmaster replied
seriously. “But I think right now there is cake to be cut, and presents to be opened.”

And so the entire morning was spent opening presents and eating cake (Ron even used some of his
Weasley dust so he could partake in the festivities). Never had Harry received so many gifts at any
one time before.

Hagrid’s present, which Harry opened first, was thankfully not his usual rock cakes. Instead, the
gamekeeper had given him a very beautifully carved wooden flute, not unlike the one he had received
in his first year.

“Have Dumbledore tell yeh abou’ that,” Hagrid whispered over the din of people conversing and
eating cake. “Dun want anyone teh hear what it can do.”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” Harry replied softly and he quickly pocketed the instrument.

Tonks’ present was next, and whatever she had given Harry, it was apparent that he wasn’t supposed
to open it in front of everyone else.

“Um...yeah,” she interrupted as Harry was about to remove the plain brown paper from the
present...which strangely felt like it was a book. “You might want to open that up somewhere
more....private.” Harry furrowed his brow at the older auror but tucked it away nonetheless. Tonks
gave Hermione a meaningful wink as she resumed eating her cake.

‘What was that all about?’ Harry asked Hermione silently.

‘For once in my life, I don’t want to think about it,’ she replied. Harry turned to look at her at
saw that her face was almost beet red. His thought process quickly caught up and soon, he too was
sporting an equally furious blush.

The Weasleys had all chipped in (though Harry had a distinct feeling that Fred and George
contributed more than the others) and bought him a very fancy wand holster, which he promptly
strapped around his waist, over his potions belt.

“It’s dead useful,” Ron was saying. “Repels even the toughest magic. Solid dragonhide.”

“Welsh green,” Charlie chipped in. “Best kind for repelling.”

Harry smiled and thanked each of the Weasleys graciously for the wonderful gift before turning to
the present from Remus.

“This,” Remus said. “Is something I think you might like to have. I’m not entirely sure how useful
it will be to you, but --”

Harry’s jaw nearly hit the floor as he removed the paper and stared at the book he was holding. The
cover was a very plain brown, but in fading gold letters, the words, ‘Hogwarts, Class of ‘77’ were
visible.

“It’s my yearbook,” Remus explained. “James’ and Lily’s were destroyed in Godric’s Hollow, and I
don’t know where Sirius kept his. I don’t really have a need for it, and I thought it might have
better use in your hands than mine.”

Harry slowly opened the cover and stared at the moving pictures of all the people from his parents’
year. He flipped through the book until he got to the part that showed the Head Boy and Girl, and
sure enough, there were James and Lily, beaming up at him in their pictures and waving their hands.
Sniffling, Harry wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“Thank you,” he said to Remus.

“I think that perhaps, given what Remus’ present was, it might be best if you opened mine next,”
Dumbledore said pointing at a gold wrapped parcel on the table that was roughly eight by six
inches, and one inch deep. Clearing his throat, Harry pulled it towards him and pulled off the
paper.

This time, his jaw really did hit the floor. Smiling at him from inside the solid oak frame, were
James, Lily, Sirus, himself, and Hermione, all sitting in various chairs in the Gryffindor common
room.

“H-how....when...–” he started to ask, but Dumbledore cut him off.

“I had a feeling that one day you would like to have a record of your trip into the past,” the
headmaster said. “While I do not possess one of those muggle recording devices, I thought that this
might suffice.” Harry tried to say thank you, but found that he couldn’t speak. Dumbledore, seeming
to sense this, merely chuckled. “They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I believe the
pictures that bring forth no words are a bit better.” Harry simply nodded in thanks without looking
up. He spent the next few minutes staring at the picture before Hermione put her hand on his
shoulder gently and reminded him that he still had two presents to open.

“Right,” he said, pulling McGonagal’s gift towards him and opening it to reveal four boxes of
chocolate frogs.

“You’ll forgive my lack of an original idea,” she said. “But I’m not very accustomed to giving out
presents.”

“They’re always delicious,” Harry said with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” the transfiguration professor replied.

“So this last one is from all of you, then?” Harry asked, looking at the Grangers while keeping an
eye on the lone parcel wrapped in green paper.

“Yep,” David Granger said rubbing his hands together. “We didn’t really know what to get you, so
Hermione suggested we get you this.” Harry ripped off the paper to reveal a white box. He opened
the box and found a beautiful sterling silver watch shining up at him.

“Oh wow,” he said, taking the watch out of the box an examining it. “This must have cost you a
fortune.”

“Not really,” Emma said. “It’s only six karat. Not really that expensive.”

“Turn the dial,” Hermione said, smiling at him. Curious, Harry turned the small silver knob on the
right side of the watch and looked on in amazement as the face somehow flipped over completely to
reveal another face, this time with four sets of hands.

“We got that done at a shop in Diagon Alley that Fred and George referred us to,” Emma said. “I’d
really like to find out how those work.”

Squinting so he could see the tiny writing, Harry realised that this watch was a miniature version
of the grandfather clock in the Weasley household. Each hand had a separate picture on the end of
it, and they were labeled Harry, Hermione, Emma, and David. All four hands were pointed at the word
‘home’.

‘I got you something else too,’ Hermione said in her mind as Harry strapped the watch on his wrist.
‘But it’s for later.’

‘Is it one of those presents that girls get for guys, but are really for themselves?’ Harry replied
silent with a grin.

‘Are you insinuating something?’ Hermione asked.

‘I am,’ Harry replied with a smik.

‘Hmph.’

‘So is it something like that?’ Harry asked.

‘Yes,’ Hermione replied in a huffy tone. Harry laughed and pulled her into a hug. “The present is
wonderful,” he said aloud. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome dear,” Emma said. “And if you’re planning on talking in your heads without
anyone knowing, you shouldn’t make those facial expressions. It gives it away.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Harry, how do you like your party?” Remus asked, coming up to him.

“It’s wonderful, Moony,” Harry replied. “Thank you.”

“Ah, don’t thank me,” Remus said. “It was all Hermione’s idea.” Harry turned and smiled at his
fiancee. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to be going.”

“Of course,” Harry said without hesitation. “You’ve already done more than enough.”

“Thank you,” Remus said. “I promised Rose I’d take her to the theater today. I didn’t remember that
today was the 31st. Sometimes I can be worse than James when it comes to remembering things and
–”

“Remus, just go,” Harry said with a grin. “You gave me this.” He held up the yearbook. “That’s more
than enough.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Remus said again. “You have a great day now, you hear?”

“We will,” Hermione said with a smile. Remus hugged them each once before he disapparated.

“Where’d he go?” Ginny asked, coming over to them.

“He had a date,” Harry said, smirking.

“Oh,” Ginny said. “So I was wondering, do you mind if –” she was cut off by a pop signifying the
arrival of Dobby.

“Master Harry Potter!” the elf squealed, burying it’s face in Harry’s shirt. “Happy
birthday!”

“Thank you Dobby,” Harry said, giving Ginny an apologetic smile.

“Here is your present, sir,” the elf said, handing Harry a package wrapped in crinkled brown paper.
He opened it to reveal a pair of mismatched socks, one red with broomsticks on it, the other yellow
with wands on it.

“Thank you Dobby,” Harry said with a smile.

“Umm....master Harry, Malfoy is wondering if he can have a small increase in food.”

“Malfoy?” Ginny asked. Immediately Harry hushed her and grabbed her hand before dragging her out of
the room, Hermione and Dobby in hot pursuit. “What’s he doing here?”

“No one is supposed to know about that,” Harry said in an undertone.

“Oh....oh master sir...Dobby is sorry...Dobby is a bad house-elf...” He had just turned to run at
the wall head first when Harry picked him up by the back of his tie and put him down.

“You don’t need to punish yourself, Dobby,” he said. “You didn’t know.”

“Is someone going to tell me why Malfoy is here?” Ginny asked again.

“You know the prisoner that we captured a few weeks ago?” Hermione asked. Ginny’s eyes
widened.

“I thought that was just a routine death eater,” she said.

“Yes, well, it wasn’t,” Harry said.

“Where is he?” Ginny asked.

“Why?” Harry asked cautiously.

“I want to see him,” she replied.

“No,” Harry said “You can’t know.”

“If you don’t tell me why he’s here, I will go back in that room and tell everyone that it’s him
you’re holding here,” she said.

“You’re willing to blackmail me on my birthday?” Harry asked, slightly impressed.

“He lied to me,” Ginny said dangerously. “I think I deserve the truth.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed. “Come with me. Dobby, lead the way.”

Dobby led them to the second floor (though it was difficult as he was forced to refrain from
hitting his head on every solid object he passed) and down the hall to a door at the end of it.
Waving his hand, they heard the click signifying the door unlocking, and he opened it and ushered
them inside.

“What did Potter say about my food, Dobby?” Draco asked from his bed.

“That you shouldn’t get any you son-of-a-bitch!” Ginny screamed as she lunged at him and staring
punching him in the face. Hastily, Harry pulled her off Draco still kicking and punching at the air
wildly while Hermione and Dobby cast some powerful silencing charms on the door.

“If you continue to behave like that,” Harry said, not letting go of Ginny. “I will be forced to
remove you from here and memory charm you.” Ginny instantly stopped struggling.

“Why is she here?” Draco spat, causing blood to trickle out of the corner of his mouth. “You know I
kept everything a secret to protect her, and now she knows –”

“To protect me?” she yelled. “That’s rich.”

“It was either her, or everyone else downstairs,” Harry said. “Besides, she does deserve the
truth.”

“If she dies,” Draco said dangerously, “I will have your head Potter.”

“What do you care?” Ginny asked.

“More than you could know,” Draco replied.

“Enlighten me, then,” Ginny said acidly.

The next half hour was spent listening Draco tell the youngest Weasley his tale. There was more
than one occasion where Harry was forced to calm Ginny down, but she succeeded in listening to all
of it without downright attacking him again. Finally, at the end of all of it she got up and stood
in front of Draco.

“I can’t believe you,” she said softly. “I can’t believe I ever fell in love with you.”

“Ginny...”

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” she said turning her back on him. “Do not ever let me see you
again, because if I do, no amount of Harry Potters will be able to stop me from harming you.”
Without another word she stormed out of the room.

“So can I have a little more food?” Draco asked. “Not to be picky, but it’s tough going through a
day on just two corn muffins.”

“We’ll increase it to three then,” Harry said, striding out of the room followed closely by
Hermione, leaving Dobby to tend to Malfoy. Sighing, he walked slowly down the stairs when suddenly
he heard a familiar shout from the entrance hallway.

“You lied to me!” the voice yelled. It didn’t take him long to work out that it was Ginny yelling
again, and he quickly ran down the steps to find her standing in front of none other than Albus
Dumbledore, her eyes blazing with a fury that wasn’t present even during the conversation with
Draco.

“Harry, Hermione,” the headmaster acknowledged as they came down the stairs. “Perhaps we could take
this conversation somewhere a little more private.”

They walked into the study and the moment Dumbledore finished the silencing charms on the room,
Ginny exploded.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” she yelled. “YOU TOLD ME THAT DRACO WASN’T ALL THAT BAD AND THAT I
SHOULD EXAMINE MY FEELINGS FOR HIM MORE CLOSELY!”

“I am sorry, Ginevra,” Albus said sincerely.

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” she yelled. “I HATE THAT NAME AND YOU KNOW IT!”

“Ginny, then,” Dumbledore corrected. “You must understand that I did not know that Draco was
working for Voldemort at that time.”

“You’re Dumbledore!” she yelled. “How am I supposed to believe that?!”

“As much as I would like to believe that I am omnipotent,” the headmaster said with a grave smile.
“I’m not, nor will I ever be.”

“You told me I would be able to change him though!” she yelled.

“And you did,” Dumbledore said. “You very well may have saved his life.”

“I wish I hadn’t,” Ginny said, tears starting to run down her cheeks.

“You know that’s not true,” Dumbledore replied.

“I know,” the red-head said softly.

“I must say, you are at least much more well behaved than Harry when you’re angry at me,”
Dumbledore said with a chuckle.

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed.

“Why, what did he do?” Ginny asked with a rueful smile. Dumbledore glanced at Harry as if to say,
‘it’s your story to tell’.

“I erm....I trashed his office when he told me about the prophecy,” Harry said bashfully.

“You didn’t,” Ginny said with a small smile. Harry nodded once.

“Well then, perhaps we should get back to the party,” the headmaster said. “People will begin to
wonder what’s happened to us.” They walked out into the hall and back towards the basement kitchen.
“I must say, it was rather lucky that I noticed the three of you gone or I would not have had the
sense to step out into the hall when Ginny came running downstairs looking for me to prevent her
from telling everyone that Draco was being held here.”

Harry and Hermione shared a small chuckle at this. Dumbledore had just reached for the doorknob to
the kitchen when suddenly Harry’s scar exploded in pain. Instantly he sank to one knee from the
pain, eyes already watery, and managed to breathe out, “Giants,” before passing out on the floor,
unconscious.

---------------

For those of you who recognised the birthday scene, yes, I did take a lot of it from Who Turned Off
the Water. Just a heads up so that no one spends time asking me when they REVIEW! ;)



14. The Calm
------------

Yet again, my mind has changed on the number of chapters that there will be. Seventeen is the
final number, as I always like to make the last chapter of my fics a nice long one (and by long I
mean 10k words long). I have also decided and started on the next work that I will be writing after
the trilogy is over. I will discuss that more in detail in the note at the end of the
chapter.

I would also like to say that I had some problems uploading this chapter (I did it at a
friend's house, and Internet Explorer is terrible, so I had to encode the file manually), so if
there are any strange things, or spaces missing, please excuse it this once. Thank you
::wink::

---------------

Chapter 14: The Calm

*Harry sat in a wooden chair, facing a dying fire. His eyes were closed, patiently awaiting his
guest. He didn’t have to wait long, for a moment later a knock came from the door.

“Enter,” he hissed. A figure hooded and in black robes entered the room and quickly knelt in front
of Harry. The only distinguishable feature about this person was that straight golden hair was
falling down from inside the person’s hood.

“Narcissa,” Harry hissed, with a sick smile on his face. “How wonderful of you to join me.”

“How may I be of service to you, my lord?” the woman asked, keeping her head bowed.

“Let us have a talk, shall we?” Harry asked. The woman nodded, and he conjured another chair like
the one he was sitting in with a wave of his hand. “Sit.” Obediently, the woman got up from the
floor and sat in the chair, still keeping her gaze lowered. “Look at me.” Harry commanded.
Hesitantly, the figure raised her head until the face of Narcissa Malfoy became visible.

“What do you wish to talk about?” she asked, visibly frightened from having to look into Harry’s
eyes.

“Did we get what we bargained for after I became unconscious?”

“Indeed, my lord,” Narcissa replied. “The giants’ envoy arrived a week and a half after you took to
your bed.”

“The power transfer was successful, then?”

“Yes,” she answered. “They have already begun to move from the island and establish colonies in the
north of the Scandinavian countries.”

“Excellent.” Harry said with a yellow smile. “Everything is proceeding as planned.”

“What about the boy?”

“Which one?” Harry asked.

“Potter,” Narcissa replied.

“My spy reports to me that he is still unconscious, though he is showing signs of regaining his
power,” he answered. “I must say, the power drain worked much more effectively than I thought it
would. Perhaps Severus’ lessons in Occlumency really taught the boy nothing.”

“I wouldn’t know, my lord.”

There was silence in the room for a little while. Finally, sensing that something was troubling the
woman, Harry spoke.

“What is on your mind, Narcissa?” he asked. “You are troubled.”

“It’s about my son,” she answered.

“Ah,” Harry said. “The other boy.”

“He may have rejected our ways and faith, but he is still my son, after all.”

“I do not blame you for the way he turned out,” Harry said. “That remains Lucius’ miserable fault.
He was unable to help the boy see the true ways of the wizarding world, and instead let him be
taken over by that little Weaslette.”

“What shall become of him?” Narcissa asked.

“When we storm Hogwarts and take it by force, we will make him the offer to return to our graces,”
Harry replied. “He will be punished for turning, but he will still learn to be faithful to our
cause. I feel he may become a valuable asset.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now, I have one more question for you before I send you on your way.”

“What is it that you ask, my lord?”

“Tell me,” Harry said steepling his fingers. “Have we taken care of our ‘friend’ in the ministry?”
For the first time during the conversation, Narcissa smiled.

“We thought perhaps you would like to do that yourself,” she replied. “May I escort you?”

“You may indeed,” Harry said, rising from his seat. He allowed himself to be led out of the dark
room by Narcissa and was temporary blinded by the light coming in from the windows before he closed
the shutters with a wave of his hand. The one thing he hated about Malfoy Manor was that being on
the top of a mountain, it caught more sunlight than any other house he had the displeasure of being
in.

“I’m sorry, my lord, I forgot you hate the light – ”

“It is of no concern,” Harry said. “I’ll have to get used to it eventually anyway.”

“He’s being held in the basement.”

“Take me to him, then,” Harry said. They walked slowly down the stairs to the second floor landing,
when Harry felt a familiar sensation in his head.

‘You...’ he said to himself.

‘Ah, Potter, you’ve returned to the world of the living,’ a hauntingly familiar voice said through
his body, though he could tell it was not his own. ‘I wonder, how much have you seen.’

‘Why would I tell you that?’

‘It’s no matter,’ the voice said. ‘Although I sense that the old protector of mud-bloods and
muggles will be attempting to wake you soon enough, so I think perhaps our time together will be
cut short.’

‘I’m curious,’ Harry said after a moment. ‘Why are you in such a forgiving mood? On a normal day
you would’ve tortured Narcissa to within an inch of her life for leaving the windows open.’

‘Ahhh,’ the voice replied with a chuckle. ‘That, dear Potter, is because the time for my
victory....is at hand.’*

And without another word Harry’s consciousness was thrown from his body and he blacked out.

=====

“Harry? Can you hear me?”

“Mmmm?”

“He’s conscious, headmaster,” a familiar female voice said.

“Very good, Poppy. You may go now,” another familiar voice, this time male, replied.

“Where am I?” Harry asked, cracking an eye open. Sitting in the chair next to his bed was
Dumbledore, and leaving through the curtains closing his bed off was Madam Pomfrey.
“Hogwarts?”

“I will answer all of your questions in a moment, as you must have many,” Dumbledore said. “But I
think it would be prudent to awaken your fiancee first.” Harry turned and saw that, in fact,
Hermione was asleep next to him on the bed. “She has refused to leave your side since you fell
unconscious.”

“Hermione?” he said gently, rubbing her shoulder.

“Mmmm?” she mumbled sleepily, barely opening one of her eyes. The moment she saw Harry was awake
she sat bolt upright and threw her arms around him. “You’re back,” she whispered urgently.

“I’m back,” he said holding her tightly. “How long was I gone for?”

“I’m not entirely sure how to tell you this...” Hermione said hesitantly. “But it’s almost the end
of October.”

“The twenty-fourth, to be precise,” Dumbledore added.

“Two and a half months?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Nearly three,” Hermione said sadly. He looked at her worriedly and could tell from the expression
on her face that if he asked, she could probably tell him the number of minutes he had been
unconscious.

“How could I have been out for so long?” Harry asked.

“We do not know,” Dumbledore replied. “In fact, we were hoping you might be able to enlighten us on
the situation. You seemed to have a faint idea of what was going on right before you blacked out. I
distinctly remember you gasping the word ‘giants’ before collapsing to the floor.” Harry went into
thought for a moment at hearing these words.

“I had a dream while I was unconscious,” he said after a minute. “It was right before you woke me
up; at least I think it was right before you woke me up. It’s still a little fuzzy though.”

“Were you in Voldemort’s body again?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded.

“Yeah. He knew I was present in his mind towards the end of it, but I don’t know about the
beginning. I don’t think he knows that I saw what I actually saw.”

“And what did you see?” Dumbledore asked.

“I was sitting in Malfoy Manor,” Harry said. “And I had summoned Narcissa.”

“Go on,” the headmaster urged.

“I...Voldemort, that is, asked her if he had gotten what they bargained for after he became
unconscious.”

“Did he?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, something about an envoy from the giants.”

“Did he say what he bargained for?” Dumbledore asked.

“No,” Harry said. “But he did say something about a power transfer being successful.”

“I think I know what has happened,” Dumbledore said quickly. “Not too long ago, we received reports
of massive amounts of giants leaving Great Britain for the mainland. They seemed to be heading to a
location where a massive amount of magic potential was stored. It is my belief, that whatever
Voldemort got from the giants, he guaranteed them a safe place to live in return.”

“What would guarantee their safety?” Hermione asked.

“Most likely a massive shielding enchantment,” Dumbledore said.

“But how would that make Harry unconscious?” Hermione inquired.

“Voldemort mentioned something about a power drain,” Harry said.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore agreed. “An enchantment of that magnitude would require a massive amount of
magical energy. I think it’s probable that Voldemort found a way to drain Harry of all his energy
at the same time of his own.”

“Wait,” Harry said quickly. “Does this mean that in a battle against him, all he would have to do
is drain me of my power and knock me out? He’d be able to kill me before I could get a spell
off!”

“Fortunately it’s not that simple,” the headmaster said. “In any form of power drain, mental or
physical, the drainer needs to be transferring his or her own power to something else as well. So
the answer is that if Voldemort were to transfer all of his magic to one of his death eaters, for
example, he could drain all of your energy while giving his away. Thanks to a certain prophecy,
however, none of his death eaters could kill you in your unconscious state.”

“How lucky,” Harry muttered sarcastically.

“Was there anything else in the dream?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah...now that I think about it,” Harry said. “I’m almost positive that Draco’s not the spy.” At
this, Dumbledore and Hermione shared a glance. “All right, what am I missing here?”

“We...er...we know that already,” Hermione said.

“How?” Harry asked.

“About a month after you fell unconscious, Peter Pettigrew was broken out of custody in the
ministry,” Dumbledore said. “He was guarded in such a way that it would have been impossible for
him to escape without assistance.”

“The spy helped him?” Harry asked.

“Help might not be the best word,” Hermione said. “After all, Voldemort probably knows that
Wormtail cracked when you questioned him. You said yourself he was at Malfoy Manor when we took
Draco. How else could we know that Draco might’ve been a threat?”

“That must’ve been what he was talking about,” Harry mused.

“What who was talking about?” Dumbledore asked.

“Voldemort,” Harry replied. “In my dream, Voldemort asked Narcissa if they had taken care of their
‘friend’ in the ministry.”

“What did she say?” Hermione asked.

“That they wanted to let Voldemort do it for himself,” he replied. This answer was met with a
contemplative silence for a few moments. “So what did we do with Malfoy?”

“After meetings with the Order, he was released about a month after Pettigrew disappeared,”
Dumbledore. “It did take time to find a suitable place for him. He can’t very well go back to
living at Malfoy Manor now, can he?”

“So where is he?” Harry asked.

“Mate!” a familiar voice shouted from outside the curtains. “Pomfrey told me you’d just woken up.”
The familiar form of Ron floated through into Harry’s small cubicle. “How you feeling?”

“Could be better,” Harry said. “These two were about to tell me where Malfoy’s staying.” At this,
Ron gave a distinct snort. “What?”

“If they’re the ones who are going to tell you, I’ll let them tell you,” Ron said, looking at the
ceiling.

“Don’t tell me...” Harry said with a skeptical smile.

“After much debate, it was decided best if Draco went and lived at the Burrow,” Dumbledore said.
“The protection of the Fidelius Charm, along with the blood protect that Fred now possesses, makes
it an adequate, if a little bit awkward choice.”

“I’ll say,” Harry said. “You’ve had to live with Malfoy?”

“Yeah,” Ron said half-heartedly. “I feel bad for Ginny though. She had to see him everyday until
term started.”

“Narcissa sounded worried about him,” Harry said. “She asked what would become of him.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked.

“I had dreamed that I was in Voldemort’s body while I was out,” Harry said. “I’ll give you the
details that you missed later.”

“What did Voldemort say when you asked this?” Dumbledore asked.

“He said that when he stormed Hogwarts, they would try to convert him back to a death eater,” Harry
replied.

“Did he say when he would try to storm the school?” the headmaster asked.

“No,” Harry replied sadly. “Although....towards the end of the dream he figured out that I was in
his mind.”

“What was his reaction?” Hermione asked.

“.....He laughed,” Harry said. “Laughed and told me he was in a good mood because the time for his
victory was at hand.” At this, Dumbledore’s face almost turned white.

“Ron,” he said with a sense of urgency. “You must make haste to the ghosts. There is no more time
for talks. Bring whoever will fight, and return here immediately.”

“Why?” the ghost asked, bewildered.

“Lord Voldemort may be a madman, but he is no idiot,” Dumbledore replied. “He would only
consciously let Harry know of his plans if he was going to attack quickly enough so that we would
not have time to prepare, even with this knowledge. Come with me to my office, and I will portkey
you to the mainland right away. You won’t be able to come back with a portkey though, so you’ll
have to fly.”

“I...I understand,” Ron said as the headmaster got up, obviously a little apprehensive.

“You must fly as fast as you can, Ron,” Dumbledore said. “I feel that if the Dark Lord is finally
attacking, he will have made sure he has enough forces to take the castle. Let us make
haste.”

After quick ‘goodbyes’ and ‘good lucks’ to Ron, he and the headmaster left the hospital wing nearly
running (or in Ron’s case, flying). Harry turned to Hermione and sighed.

“I can’t believe I was out for so long –” Whatever else Harry was planning on saying got muffled
when Hermione crushed her lips to his.

“I was so scared,” she said when she pulled away a minute later. “I was so scared when they said
they couldn’t revive you.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said wrapping her in a tight hug.

“It’s not your fault,” Hermione replied. “Just make sure you kill him so we don’t ever have to go
through anything like this again.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, not letting go. “What have you been up to while I was here?”

“Since term started, I’ve been assisting Professor Flitwick in his classes,” Hermione said with a
slight blush.

“What about our auror training?” Harry asked.

“Since both Moody and Kingsley are in the Order, they understood,” Hermione replied. “We’re to
resume training as soon as you’re better, but if Voldemort attacks within a few days, I don’t know
if we’ll be doing much training before that.”

“I still can’t believe it might be over in a few days,” Harry said with a sigh. “Almost seven years
of constantly looking over my shoulder to see whether a madman is there with a wand pointed at me,
and in a few days it’ll be all said and done with, no matter which way it ends.”

“He might not be attacking,” Hermione said, with a hint of false hope. “He might just have been
saying it –”

“If Dumbledore is worried, then he’s attacking,” Harry said. “It’s that simple. The man may have
made some errors in judgment over the years, but tactically, I’ve never seen him make a
mistake.”

“Draco?” Hermione asked.

“Fine,” Harry acquiesced. “One mistake. But nobody’s perfect.”

At that point Dumbledore walked back into the hospital wing, looking slightly out of breath, but at
least fairly calm.

“Ronald is on his way,” he said, taking a seat next to Harry’s bed. “It depends on when Voldemort
attacks, but I believe that he should be able to return in time to defend us all.”

“How long will it take them to get back here?” Harry asked.

“Two days,” Dumbledore replied. “Maybe three. It depends how the winds fare.”

“What should we do until then?” Hermione asked.

“Assuming there are no attacks,” the headmaster said. “I suggest continuing assisting Professor
Flitwick. You should help too, Harry. It’s never bad to brush up on your charms.”

“All right, sir,” Harry said.

“Good,” Dumbledore replied. “Now I must be off. Lots of business to attend to.”

“The Order is on alert, right?” Hermione asked.

“The Order is *always* on alert, Hermione, I promise you,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Now,
perhaps you two should get some rest.” With that, he left the two of them lying in Harry’s
bed.

“You know,” Harry said looking around the hospital wing contemplatively. “I know it’s only been a
few months since I was last in here, but it feels like forever.” Hermione said nothing, but rested
her head on Harry’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Are we doing charms tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Fourth years in the morning, seventh years in the afternoon.”

“Good,” Harry said. “I’ll be able to brush up on my N.E.W.T. charms then.”

“Mm hmm,” Hermione mumbled. “Harry?”

“Yes, love?”

“I missed you.”

“I can’t say I missed you too, since it feels like I was only out for a few minutes,” he admitted
bashfully. “But I can say that I’ll try never to leave you again.”

“I know,” she replied.

“I can promise you one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, picking up her head slightly and looking at him.

“That I’ll never stop loving you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Hermione said, putting her head back on his chest before they both
drifted off into a light sleep.

---------------

There it is. The last chapter before the big climax. I hope that the big battles that take place
soon will have been well worth the wait.

And now, as promised, information on my next work. I have not ‘officially’ decided on a title yet,
but the one I’m using for a working title right now is ‘Fawkes’ Gift’. It’s a sequel piece to What
It Costs To Save The World, by Ahn Na Blue. If you haven’t read that, I suggest you do so, since it
is simply a marvelous piece of writing. However, since I’m behind on work, I will not be posting
any of that story until this one is OVER and DONE with. You may expect the first chapter of that in
late April.

Until next time.......



15. The Siege of Hogwarts
-------------------------

I have nothing to say this time. Let the battle begin.

---------------

Chapter 15: The Siege of Hogwarts

Harry sat in Professor Flitwick’s classroom watching Hermione help Ginny with the charm the class
was learning that day.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Hermione said. “It’s ‘dis-*pel*-ium’. Accentuate the ‘pel’.”

“Just like win-*gar*-dium,” Harry chipped in with a smile. Hermione scowled playfully at him
in response.

“I know,” Ginny said tiredly. “It’s just difficult.”

“Well, the Dispel Magic charm is a very difficult one to learn,” Professor Flitwick said, coming
over from another student. “Finite Incantatem may be useful for ending self-sustaining spells, but
it can’t remove positive and negative buffs like ‘Dispelium’ can.”

“I know,” Ginny said again.

“Why don’t you two take a break,” Flitwick said to Harry and Hermione. “You’ve been in this
classroom for hours.”

“All right,” Harry said, before Hermione had a chance to answer.

“Do I get a say in the matter?” she asked.

“If you really want to,” he replied. “But I’d like to talk to you.”

“Oh...all right then. We’ll be back in a little while.”

“Take your time,” Flitwick said with a smile as they left the charms classroom.

“So what’s going on?” Hermione asked as they walked down the hall.

“I should ask you that,” Harry countered. “You’ve been distant all day. You’ve hardly spoken a word
to me since I woke up, and you’re blocking your mind from me so I can’t even know what you’re
thinking.”

“Since when are you privileged to my private thoughts?” Hermione retorted. Harry quickly ran around
in front of her and stopped, forced Hermione’s gait to cease as well.

“Look,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t know what I did. It’s entirely
possible that I did something I don’t know about simply because I’m a guy, and if that’s the case I
apologise.”

“It’s not something you did,” Hermione said, relaxing slightly.

“Then what?” he asked. “Why are you treating me as if I’m Malfoy all of a sudden?”

“Harry...” She looked away and Harry was startled to see tears running down her cheek.

“Hermione?” he said sadly, pulling her into a tight embrace. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I was so scared,” she said, though it was muffled against Harry’s chest. “When you fell
unconscious, I thought it was just you having a normal fit or something. Then Dumbledore told me
that you had gone comatose and I...I...

“You don’t have to say it,” Harry said comfortingly.

“I didn’t know if I was ever going to get to talk to you again,” Hermione said, still crying
softly. “You know how you can feel my presence in your head, even when I’m blocking you out?” Harry
nodded. “When you’re unconscious, that disappears. I felt so empty....so alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, Hermione’s pain starting to leak over to him, causing the corners of his
eyes to burn. “Merlin, I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of your robes. “I’m sorry for
being short with you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied. “We all have a lot on our minds right now.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “Could we...could we go somewhere private?”

“I know just the place,” Harry said, taking her hand and leading her back up the corridor they came
until they reached the all-too familiar stretch of wall. They paced back and forth in front of wall
until the door appeared, and they wasted no time in entering the Room of Requirement.

The room wasn’t overly complicated; there were a few windows overlooking the grounds, allowing the
mid-afternoon sunlight to stream in. The only furnishing in the room was a queen-sized bed, with
clean white linens on it.

“Show me how much you love me,” Hermione said breathlessly as she kissed him.

“I would have no greater pleasure than doing that,” Harry replied with a gentle smile.

=====

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Are you okay?”

Harry sighed from the seat he had the room create next to one of the windows overlooking the
grounds. Hermione wrapped the sheet from the bed around her naked body and walked over the window,
sitting down next to him in the chair the room provided for her.

“Just thinking,” he replied in a far off voice.

“About Voldemort?” Hermione asked.

“Somewhat,” he answered. When he offered no further explanation, Hermione put her hand on his
shoulder.

“What is it you’re not telling me?” she asked. Harry turned to face her and she was startled to see
tears forming in his eyes.

“When the time comes,” he said in a choked voice. “I don’t want you there.”

“We’ve had this discussion before,” Hermione said with a gentle expression. “There is no way in
*hell* you are fighting alone.”

“What if I lose you?” Harry asked looking away. “What if you lose me?”

“I said it once, I’ll say it again,” Hermione said. “Any world without you in it is not one I want
to live in.”

“I’ll fight better knowing you’re safe,” Harry pleaded.

“Is that fair of you?” Hermione asked, hurt. “After three months, wondering if you were ever going
to wake up, is it fair to ask me to sit on the sidelines watching you fight for your life? This
isn’t a quidditch match, Harry.”

“I know,” he replied. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing will happen to me,” Hermione said, pulling him into her arms. “We’ll be fine. You’ll kill
Voldemort, then we can get married and have lots of little children running around our knees whilst
screaming for more cookies.” Harry pulled back from the embrace slightly to look at her.

“We never really talked about a family,” he said.

“Did you not want one?” Hermione asked, slightly surprised.

“Of course I do,” Harry said. “It’s just...I don’t know, it’ll be strange, I guess.”

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” she asked. “You’re worried that since you never had parents to guide
you, you won’t know how to raise children properly. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“It’s not that hard to figure out when you can read my mind,” Harry said with a smile.

“Let me tell you something,” Hermione said. “You may not have had parents, but I have had two
wonderful ones. Any children that we have, we will raise together, as a family. If we need my
parents’ help, then so be it.”

Harry couldn’t help it, he simply pulled Hermione into his arms and held her as tight as he could
without restricting her breathing. Hermione smiled, closed her eyes, and put her head on his
shoulder. She was just about to make an off-hand comment when she opened her eyes and spotted
something odd.

“Harry? What’s that?”

“What’s what?” he asked, turning around to look out the window.

“That,” Hermione replied, pointing at the canopy of the Forbidden Forest. No untrained eye would’ve
spotted it, but Harry’s years of seeking a small golden ball with wings, along with Hermione’s
years of searching for minuscule words in textbooks allowed them to see the slightest gap in the
canopy, and whatever that was causing the gap was moving towards Hogwarts.

“There’s something coming,” Harry said, squinting. “Something big.”

They exchanged a glance for about half a second before both of their minds came to the same
conclusion and they bolted out of the chairs they were sitting in.

“Accio clothes!” Hermione shouted, dropping the sheet and getting dressed faster than Harry had
ever seen her before. They wasted no time in sprinting out of the Room of Requirement and making a
beeline for Dumbledore’s office. They were almost at the gargoyle when it sprang aside and
Dumbledore came running out of it.

“Summon the flute Hagrid gave you for your birthday and follow me to the Great Hall,” the
headmaster said without waiting for Harry or Hermione to say anything. “Your belongings are in an
unlocked trunk in the hospital wing,” he said, answering the unspoken question. They didn’t argue;
instead, Harry pointed his wand in the general direction of the ward and yelled, “Accio Hagrid’s
flute!” A moment later it was in his hand as he, Hermione, and Dumbledore barged through the double
doors into the Great Hall where, to Harry’s surprise, the entire faculty was already
assembled.

“Everyone!” Dumbledore yelled. “There is little time for explanation. Voldemort has begun his
attack against Hogwarts.” Immediately a loud murmur rose from the teachers. “At this point in time,
we have neither the manpower, or the resources to stop him and his army. Our only hope is to hold
them off as long as we can, until Ronald Weasley returns with the ghosts who will fight for
us.”

“What would you have us do?” Professor McGonagal asked.

“Heads of Houses, use any and all means necessary to bring all your students safely to their common
rooms. If, after that is completed, any seventh years wish to fight, they may do so. Once you have
gathered the students who will fight, immediately proceed to the seventh floor corridor. Fawkes
will be waiting there, tell him your name and that you wish to see me.”

“What about after that?” Professor Sprout asked.

“It will become apparent at that time,” Dumbledore said. “Now come! We have no time to waste.
Everyone who is not a head of house, follow me.”

Professors McGonagal, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick all departed immediately, while Dumbledore,
Harry, and Hermione led the other teachers up to the Room of Requirement. They arrived there
shortly, only to discover that that they had left the door open and the room was still occupied by
the lone bed that had been there before they left. Dumbledore arched an eyebrow at Harry and
Hermione (who promptly blushed furiously), but said nothing and converted the room into a war room,
with a fireplace in the back.

“Harry, Hermione, I have a special task for you two,” Dumbledore said as there was a loud crack and
Fawkes appeared on his shoulder. “We will need to summon the Order as quickly as we can. I can do
most of that through here –” he pointed at the fireplace, “But there are certain possessions of
yours that we could certainly use. Namely, the Marauder’s Map.”

“Sir, what happens if Voldemort’s army reaches the grounds and no one is there to meet them?”
Hermione asked.

“The castle has wards that will be able to prevent anyone from stepping foot onto the grounds, even
from the forest,” Dumbledore replied. “But Tom will be able to bring them down in time. That is why
haste is of the essence.”

“He won’t be able to bring down the apparition wards, will he?” Harry asked.

“I doubt it,” Dumbledore replied. “Those are ingrained with the very magic the founders used when
they built the school, and cannot be turned on or off. They simply ‘are’. Now hurry, we have little
time.” Nodding, Harry and Hermione rushed to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo from the
pot that had appeared on the mantle and said, “Twelve, Grimmauld Place,” before being whisked away
in a flurry of green fire.

=====

When Harry and Hermione returned with the map five minutes later, they were mildly surprised to see
all of the Order already assembled.

“Good, you’ve returned,” Dumbledore said. “The map.” Harry quickly dug it out and activated it
before spreading the parchment out on the table in front of everyone. Sure enough, right before the
tree line ended, there were hundreds of dots all waiting just inside the forest. Suddenly, there
was a loud crack and Fawkes appeared on Dumbledore’s shoulder and sang something in his ear. The
headmaster waved his hand and the door to the Room of Requirement opened, allowing Snape and
McGonagal to enter along with ten students.

“Ginerva Weasley you go straight back to Gryffindor Tower this instant!” Molly Weasley’s voice
bellowed when it became apparent that Ginny was one of the ten students.

“Sod off, Mom,” Ginny replied in a tone so icy it could have frozen hell. “You, nor anyone else is
going to stop me from fighting.” There was actually a moment where everyone in the room was silent,
waiting for the outburst from Mrs. Weasley to come, but it never came. The fire and intensity in
Ginny’s eyes was such that Molly actually gave no further argument, and simply returned to looking
over the map.

“Now that everyone is here,” Dumbledore said. Harry gave a quick glance around the room and saw
that both Sprout and Flitwick were already back. “We need to discuss battle plans.”

“I think we should attack them head on,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said, looking at the map. “We can
activate charms to force them into a bottleneck and hammer on them.”

“That won’t work,” Harry replied, causing people to turn their heads and stare at him. “Voldemort
isn’t dumb. Based on the fact that something is out there tall enough to cause the canopy of the
forest to part, he either has riders on brooms, or creatures large enough that a containment ward
wouldn’t be able to hold. It would be a waste of time and resources, not to mention a lot of people
would die erecting the charms in the first place.”

“Well, what do you suggest then, Potter?” Snape asked. Harry took a few seconds to look at the map
before speaking.

“From what it looks like, the best plan of attack is to form teams,” he said. “Station people high
up in the castle battlements and astronomy tower. Preferably the students,” he said, glancing at
Ginny quickly. “Another team should be responsible for getting the wounded to Pomfrey and anyone
else skilled in healing. I know it sounds heartless for saying so, but we’ll have no choice but to
leave the dead until after the battle is over. Everyone else starts in the great hall firing curses
onto the grounds. When Voldemort and the death eaters begin to break in, and I promise you they
will, that group goes to the entrance hall to engage them in close combat there.”

“Harry, we barely have fifty people here,” Arthur Weasley said.

“Tis not true, sir!”

Harry spun around and vaguely registered about a hundred distinct pops before the room magically
expanded and the entire Hogwarts house-elf population was standing in front of them, with none
other than Dobby in the lead.

“Dobby? What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“Dobby saw Master Harry and Miss Hermione rush back for your old school stuff sir, and Dobby
assumed that the school was under attack. So Dobby comes to Hogwarts and rounds up all the elves so
that we may fight for you like we was not able to in Hogsmeade!” There were squeals and yells of
assent from the other elves at this short speech. Harry turned back to those present and
shrugged.

“We have more than enough now,” he said.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said without hesitation. “I feel that a third of the house elves should
stay back to help the wounded, a third with the battlements group, and the rest should go with the
Great Hall team.”

“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” Harry replied. “Now we need to make teams.”

“If no one objects, I will head the Great Hall team,” Snape said silkily. Harry surveyed him for a
moment before nodding.

“I’m going with him, then,” a voice said from the corner of the room. Harry turned and saw Draco
leaning against the wall. “What, you didn’t really think I wouldn’t be fighting in this, did you?”
He stalked towards the group of people who were looking at him suspiciously. “After wrongfully
holding me prisoner for a month and a half, I should at least be allowed to fight.”

“I trust him,” Snape said instantly, answering the unspoken question.

“If Severus trusts him, then I do as well,” Dumbledore said, closing the matter. “Harry, I think
you should be in charge of the battlements team.”

“I was planning on being there when they stormed the castle,” Harry said.

“That’s not the correct way to go about it,” Moody growled.

“He’s right,” Hermione said. “There’s a prophecy that says you have to kill Voldemort. We shouldn’t
get you in harm’s way if we can avoid it.”

“Quite right,” Dumbledore said. “If we can hold off the impending forces long enough for Ron to
arrive, then Harry should have no problem coming down and dueling with Tom without
interference.”

“All right, fine,” Harry said, resigned. “I’ll take all the students, Hermione, Moody, Tonks, and
all the Weasleys with me along with the elves who want to be in my group.” Dobby immediately
stepped forward, along with about three dozen other house-elves.

“Very well, your group should get into position now,” Dumbledore said. “Since it will take you the
most time.”

“All right, everyone in battlements, follow me!” Harry yelled, and ran out of the Room of
Requirement, followed by roughly fifty people. They reached a corridor that split off into two
different directions, and Harry stopped.

“Okay, listen up,” Hermione said. “Those with the best aim should go to the astronomy tower, since
you have farther to fire spells. Everyone else should take up points around the outer wall of the
castle.”

“I’ll lead the outer-wall group,” Tonks said. “But more people should be there than up in the
astronomy tower, it holds fewer people.”

“Ok, the astronomy tower group will be me, Hermione, Moody, Ginny, Dobby, you three, and a third of
the elves. Everyone else with Tonks. Move!” The groups immediately split in different directions
and Harry led his group of about 20 up the winding stairs to the top of the astronomy tower.

Harry threw open the door and ran to the wall, looking down onto the grounds for any sign of
movement. When he was satisfied that Voldemort hadn’t broken through the wards yet, he turned and
faced his group.

“We made it,” he said. “Good. Take up positions so that everyone has a good shot at the tree line.”
It took everyone about three minutes to get into a formation that Harry was happy with. Sighing, he
leaned with his back against the stone wall and closed his eyes.

“What now?” Fred asked from his spot.

“Now, we wait,” Harry said.

And so they waited. They waited without moving an inch the entire time. About ten minutes after
they were in position, Fawkes appeared next to Harry with a note telling him that everyone was
ready and waiting. Harry thanked the bird, who then disappeared quickly. Finally, about half an
hour later, there was a crackle from overhead.

“What was that?” Moody asked.

“The wards,” Hermione said. “Voldemort’s starting to break through them.”

“How will we know when he does?” one of the seventh year students asked.

“Trust me,” Hermione replied. “You’ll know. Get ready.”

And she was quite right. Five minutes later there was a sound about ten times as loud as a clap of
thunder, and a brilliant flash of white light. When the glare had cleared, Harry saw a wave of
black cloaks emerging from the forest, sprinting for the castle.

“Sonorus. OPEN FIRE!” Harry roared, and immediately jets of various colors of light began flying
from everywhere around him, shortly thereafter accompanied by more shots being fired from the outer
wall. From where he was, Harry could also see many spells being fired from the windows of the great
hall. The death eaters, surprised at the fire from all sides, quickly conjured rocks and blasted
ditches to take cover in before returning fire. Harry was busy firing spells at a particularly
clustered group of black cloaks, when a loud roar was heard, and several dozen mountain trolls
emerged from the forest.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. Aiming exceedingly carefully, he pointed his wand at one of them and
muttered, “Imperio.” His aim was true. Within a minute he had the troll swinging it’s enormous club
at its kin, and Harry managed to have his troll take down two others before it was killed by the
death eaters.

“Good idea, Potter,” Moody growled a few feet away. “We should try that again and – what in the
hell is that!?”

Harry quickly turned back to the forest and saw one of the most ferocious-looking creatures he had
ever seen in his life. The dog-like beast stood roughly fifteen feet tall on its four legs, and
looked as if to be a cross between a bull, a labrador, and a newt. Harry was marveling at the sheer
size of the thing when it reared on its hind legs (Harry guessed it was about forty feet tall when
it did that) and breathed fireball five feet in diameter that hit and shattered a portion of the
outer wall.

“Harry...that’s a catoblepas,” Hermione breathed, her face gone white. “Remember, you thought it
would make a good animagus form last year?”

“Holy shit,” Harry said, wide-eyed. The words weren’t out of his mouth when there was a bang and
Fawkes appeared next to him and dropped a scrap of parchment before disappearing again. Hastily,
Harry picked up the parchment which bore only the words, ‘Play the flute.’ Wasting no time, Harry
fished the wooden flute out of his robes and let a long, low note sound. Coupled with the Sonorus
Charm, it was very reminiscent of a church organ.

The moment the note ceased, there was a roar even louder than the one issued by the catoblepas, and
the birds in the Forbidden Forest took flight as there was now a very noticeable indentation among
the top of the trees. A moment later none other than Cerebus himself (or, as Hagrid called him,
Fluffy) bounded out of the forest and tore after its offspring. It reached the beast in two strides
and with a massive paw hit the monster right in the face.

Harry looked on as the catoblepas reared in anger and fully expected to see it attack Fluffy, when
suddenly it quieted as its father stared it down. Before Harry could comprehend what was going on,
the two mammoth dogs had turned and begun attacking death eaters.

“Cool,” Harry said with a nervous laugh, extremely thankful that the beasts were on their side. His
victory was short-lived, however, when an enormous fireball blew through the edge of the forest and
consumed both creatures. A moment later it dissipated, leaving nothing but the smoldering carcasses
of both.

From somewhere many feet below in the great hall, Harry heard the distinct bellow of Hagrid and an
enormous jet of green light blew through one of the few unbroken windows left, taking out four
death eaters before hitting the forest, blowing the base of a trunk to bits, and causing the tree
to fall on another seven or eight.

By this time the mountain trolls had reached the great doors of Hogwarts, and had begun beating
against them with their clubs to try and break them in. Most of the death eaters were entrenched on
the grounds in various places, when suddenly Harry felt the all-too familiar chill that he
associated with death.

“Dementors,” he growled. “EVERYONE WHO CAN SUMMON A PATRONUS, NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO DO SO!”
In response to that, two dozen or so patronuses emerged from various parts of the astronomy tower,
the outer wall, and the great hall, along with one that seemed to come from the castle wall itself.
Upon closer inspection, Harry saw that it was a phoenix, and surmised that Dumbledore could cast a
patronus through solid wall. The great white forms of mist stormed down onto the grounds where a
wave of liquid black was making its way towards the castle from the forest.

Harry noted a few minutes later that the Dementors were proving to be a large problem. While the
patronuses could keep them at bay, summoning a patronus required all of one’s attention, and they
didn’t last forever. Therefore while everyone was busy re-casting their great misty animals, the
death eaters were slowly advancing on the castle. Suddenly, the door to the astronomy tower burst
open, and Kingsley Shacklebolt came running through it, quickly crouching down next to Harry.

“We’re doing an okay job of holding them at bay,” he said breathlessly. “But the trolls are about
to break the door down. Once that happens...we won’t be able to keep them from getting in the
castle.”

“I’ll send an order for the outer wall team to keep using ‘expecto patronum’ and we’ll come down
and help you,” Harry said.

“Dumbledore wanted you to stay up here –”

“Holding them off long enough is the most important thing right now, got it?” Harry said urgently.
“We can help you.” Kingsley ran his hand over his bald head and sighed.

“Hurry then,” he said, starting back for the door.

“Kingsley!” Harry shouted. The large black man turned. “Is Hagrid okay?”

“Unconscious,” Shacklebolt replied. “That AK he cast drained so much of his power the house-elves
had to take him to medical.” Harry nodded as Kingsley went back inside the castle.

“What are we going to do?” Hermione shouted to Harry over the din of everyone casting spells.

“We’re going to help the others,” Harry said. “ASTRONOMY TOWER, FALL BACK INTO THE CASTLE. OUTER
WALL, KEEP SUMMONING. C’mon.”

He quickly led his team back into the castle and they raced through the corridors until they
reached the entrance hall, where everyone in the other group was gathered. Quickly, they conjured
up marble statues and other reflective objects to take cover behind, as the door shuddered against
the hammering of the trolls. Harry was concentrating on the door when he felt a slight tug on his
robes.

“Master Harry, sir?” Dobby asked.

“WHAT?” Harry boomed startling himself. “Quietus. What, Dobby?”

“The house-elves can use magic to send back trolls when they first break though, but it will only
work once. ‘Tis easily protected against. Shall we use it?”

“Of course,” Harry said. Dobby instantly vanished to tell the other house-elves of the plan.

“We’ll be fine,” Hermione said from Harry’s side as the wood of the door cracked. Harry turned and
smiled at her.

“Yeah,” he said. “I hope so.”

The doors flew open with a loud crash and instantly sixty jets of blue-white light hurtled at the
front line of trolls stalking into the entrance hall. On impact, they threw the beasts backwards,
hitting other trolls and various death eaters along the way. Immediately spells began being hurtled
back and forth through the entrance, and it wasn’t difficult to tell that this time the death
eater’s spells were hitting their marks. People (and elves) were falling left and right around
Harry as Voldemort’s servants slowly pushed forward into the castle.

“Damnit, where the hell is Ron when I need him?” Harry asked no one in particular. As if to answer
his question, and bright spot of light appeared on the far horizon, and judging by its rapid
increase in size, it was hurtling towards Hogwarts extremely fast. “They’re coming!” Harry
bellowed. “THE GHOSTS ARE HERE!”

Sure enough, a band of about a hundred ghosts led by Ron flew onto the grounds and started
attacking the invading wave of death eaters. A few dozen or so broke off to deal with the
dementors, which Harry noted couldn’t deal with ghosts as well as patronuses. The ghosts actually
seemed to carry the ability to combat the dark creatures, and within a minute, the dementors had
fled back into the forest.

The death eaters were now trapped. In front of them lay the castle, and the non-ceasing slew of
spells coming at them, behind were ghosts that were sure to end the battle quickly. So they did the
one thing that Harry was sure Voldemort would not have approved of: they ran. They ran in every
direction, trying to evade almost certain death. The ghosts finally broke through and Ron quickly
flew over to where Harry and Hermione were staked out.

“You all right?” he asked., breathing hard. “We heard about the battle from Dumbledore about an
hour ago. Flew as fast as we could. Anyone dead?”

“What do you think?” Harry asked as the other ghosts began wiping up the various death eaters who
were fleeing.

“Anyone we know?” Ron revised.

“Not that I know of,” Harry said looking around the hall. He saw a few house elves laying
motionless, many people were missing, probably having been taken to the medic team...and then Harry
saw someone he knew. Ron and Hermione followed his gaze and both of their jaws dropped when they
saw who was lying motionless on the floor.

Draco Malfoy was staring blankly at the ceiling, unmoving, and quite lifeless. Snape was crouched
over him checking for vital signs, but by the look on the potion master’s face, there was no help
for the blond. Sighing, he closed Draco’s eyes with his hand and looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione
with a sad expression.

“Professor –” Hermione began, but was cut off when Snape suddenly convulsed and a splash of blood
emanated from his torso. Falling over, it was visible that a long metal spear had been put through
Snape’s body. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried over to him as he was lying on the floor breathing
heavily.

Suddenly, from a ways down the hall, a green jet of light came from nowhere heading right at
Hermione. Harry, barely seeing it in time, did the only thing he could do and shoved her as hard as
he could away from the spell. They were lucky. Hermione was forced out of the way just in time and
the spell impacted on the wall behind them. However, she hit her head on one of the statues and
fell unconscious. Harry was about to go to her when he heard Snape’s weak voice.

“Potter,” he said, spitting up blood. Harry quickly ran back over to the potions master and knelt
beside him.

“Snape,” he said, though this time the name bore no hatred or malice in it.

“It’s the Dark Lord. He’s in the castle,” Snape said, gritting his teeth which too, were stained
with blood. “Potter, he’s going after the torch.”

“The one in Dumbledore’s office,” Harry said with wide-eyes. Snape nodded once.

“You must not let him get it,” Snape said. “It will give him power to destroy us all.” Harry nodded
at his former teacher and sighed.

“I’m sorry for all the years of hatred between us,” he said.

“Potter, will you shut up and go save the world?” Snape ground out with a sarcastic smile. “After
all, it’s always been about you, hasn’t it?” Harry couldn’t help but shake his head as the light
dimmed and went out of Snape’s eyes. Sighing, he closed the potions master’s eyes like Draco’s, and
stood up to walk over to Hermione.

‘I know you’re still in there,’ he said silently, kneeling over her unconscious form. ‘And I know
you didn’t want me to do this alone. But it’s better this way. You’ll be safer. I love you,
Hermione.’ He planted a soft kiss on her forehead before straightening up and facing Ron.

“Look after her, mate,” Harry said.

“Of course I will,” Ron replied.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Harry said, looking up the hall where the green light had come from. “I
have some business to attend to.” Ron nodded.

“Harry?” he asked, just as his friend had turned his back. Harry stopped to show he was listening.
“Go kick his ass.” Though he was facing the other way, Ron knew that his best friend had smiled as
he took off running, the shrill laughter of Lord Voldemort echoing throughout the school.

---------------

This one was really fun to write, so I hope you all enjoyed it. Next week, the FINAL
CONFRONTATION.



16. The Chosen One
------------------

There’s one thing I’d like to say before I start this chapter. Because of the length,
complexity, and difficulty of these past two chapters (and eventually the next one), I will not be
responding to reviews like I normally do. I’ll try to get back to everyone after the very last
chapter, but up until then I make no promises.

I have a little speech after this chapter to make on my views about HBP, the recent promotions that
scholastic has released, and what it means for us Pumpkin Piers. I would appreciate it if people
read it and tell me that I’m just a bumbling idiot.

I do take some movie lines and use them in different places in this chapter (I change them a little
bit), so if anyone can tell me what they are and what movies they come from, I will be awarding
pumpkin pie.

And now, enjoy the final battle.

---------------

Chapter 16: The Chosen One

The laughter of the greatest evil known to the modern world rang through the halls of Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as Harry nearly flew down the corridors towards the Headmaster’s
Office. He kept the connection to Hermione closed so that she wouldn’t know where to go after him
in case she awakened while he was gone.

Panting, he turned the last corner to the hall at the end of which was the stone gargoyle, and
froze in his tracks. Between him and the statue (which was currently standing aside, the rotating
stone steps visible in the alcove behind where it usually stood) was a murky, bubbling swamp that
covered the entire expanse of the corridor, wall to wall. Harry scratched his eyebrow thoughtfully
for a moment before raising his wand and shouting, “Evanesco!” which in turn caused the muck to
bubble up and splash him in the face instead of disappearing.

“Bloody Weasley twins products...” he muttered while wiping his face with the sleeve of his
robe.

Harry knew that he didn’t have much time, and decided to do the first thing that came into his
mind. He conjured a large metal disk on the floor, stood on it and muttered, ‘Adhesio’, causing the
soles of his shoes to seemingly melt into the surface of the plate. Hoping that either the stone
gargoyle was too heavy, or protected by the wards of the school, he then shouted, “Accio stone
gargoyle!”.

Harry was instantly flying down the hall towards the staircase at the end of it. He was ready to
unfasten the adhesive charm and jump to safety when he hit an invisible wall and fell backwards,
plate and all, into the bog.

Without warning, the sludge Harry was lying in came to life in murky tentacles and wrapped itself
around his body, arms, legs, and finally, neck. He felt the liquid start to rise up around him and
realised that the swamp was pulling him under its surface. Thinking fast, Harry went with what
worked in his first year and completely relaxed.

Apparently though, the swamp did not function the same way Devil’s Snare did, because instead of
releasing him, it only wrapped around his body tighter. Harry desperately wracked his brain as the
surface of the filthy water came up over his chest.

“Inflamarre,” Harry choked out, causing little bluebells of fire to spurt from the tip of his wand.
The swamp bubbled in response, and he felt the tendril holding onto his wand arm loosen slightly
before reclaiming its painful grip.

Harry was nearly completely submerged at this point, and did the last thing he could think of to
save his life. He twisted his wrist around so that his wand was pointed at his body, muttered a
freezing charm on himself, then gasped out, “flagrate”.

Immediately the entire swamp (and subsequently the hallway) went up in flames. The tentacles
holding Harry turned into a sticky goo and he managed to wrestle out of their grasp and fling
himself forward. The only problem was that the invisible wall was still there.

“Finite Incantatem,” he gasped, trying to get air back into his lungs quickly. When nothing
happened, Harry pushed hard against the wall. Vaguely remembering a useful spell they had been
studying in charms, he jabbed at the wall with his wand and muttered, “Dispelium.” The barrier
vanished and Harry struggled forward through the flames and sticky black sludge to the base of the
stairs where the swamp ended. Resting on the cold stone of the bottom stair, he removed the
freezing charm from himself and looked out into the blaze that was consuming the hallway.

‘Well,’ he thought. ‘At least Hermione can’t come to help me now.’

After quickly muttering several cleaning charms on himself to remove the sludge, he glanced warily
up to the landing many feet above him. Steeling himself, he placed one foot in front of the other
and walked up the stairs to the door behind which, he assumed, stood Lord Voldemort. He had his
hand on the knob and was ready to burst into the room when he heard a cold voice call out.

“Come in, Potter. Really, don’t be so foolish as to think I don’t know you’re there.”

Not wasting a moment, Harry flung the door open and bellowed out a killing curse at the form of
Lord Voldemort that was sitting behind Dumbledore’s desk. Voldemort simply raised his hand and
deflected the curse up towards the ceiling, which crumbled slightly after being hit.

“My dear Harry Potter,” he said with a sickly smile. “Surely you don’t think it will be as simple
as that?”

“I suppose one can hope,” Harry replied, staring the Dark Lord in the eyes.

“A foolish emotion,” Voldemort replied offhandedly. “Why would anyone who is intelligent hope? If
they cannot have what they want for themselves, why waste time and pray for someone else to get it
for them? Those with hope are those without power.”

“All the people who hate you are *hoping* that I kill you,” Harry said menacingly.

“And they are weak because of it,” Voldemort replied. “Instead of coming to fight me, they let you
do it for them. The common people know nothing of the prophecy. How does it feel, Harry, to contain
the hope of the free world in your hands?”

“Powerful,” Harry replied hatefully. Even though it wasn’t the truthful answer, he knew it was the
one that Voldemort thought to be correct.

“I’m impressed,” the Dark Lord said, looking at Harry appraisingly. “Perhaps there is more
Slytherin in you than I thought after all.”

“Whatever Slytherin there is in me, you put there,” Harry replied.

“Mm....yes,” Voldemort replied, his gaze rising to Harry’s scar. “The failed curse. My greatest
failure. Also my greatest accomplishment.”

“How so?” Harry asked.

“I gave you my powers,” Voldemort replied in a voice that told Harry he didn’t care one way or the
other. “All of them.”

“And what’s so special about you?” Harry questioned. At this, Voldemort smiled evily.

“Ten points to Gryffindor for the question of the hour,” he said, rising to his feet. Harry
instinctively raised his wand at him, which prompted Voldemort to roll his eyes. “Oh please, Potter
put it away, it’s insulting to think you could control me by pointing your wand at me.” Harry,
deciding that discretion was the better part of valor (and that Voldemort apparently didn’t want
him immediately dead), lowered his wand, but still held onto it. “This, my dear boy, is what makes
me so special.”

Harry turned to where Voldemort was staring and felt his breath catch in his throat. Placed in a
holder on the wall of the office, was the Green Flame Torch. He mentally berated himself for not
seeing it sooner and sighed.

“I wanted you to be here to witness my final victory,” Voldemort said, answering both of Harry’s
unspoken questions.

“Why delay and nearly kill me with the swamp then?” Harry asked. “I didn’t think you’d stoop so low
as to use a Weasley product.”

“With some minor modifications, of course,” Voldemort said with a sick grin as he raised a hand and
Harry went flying into the door, and was pinned against it a few inches off the ground. “Unlike
that miserable excuse of a life, Lucius, I do not have bloodline problems with pure-bloods, so long
as they put their minds to good use. For the invention of that fantastic device, I may spare the
Weasley twins’ lives. I needed to delay you long enough for me to break into wherever Albus kept
the torch, after all. Imagine my delight when I found the cupboard unlocked and vulnerable.”

Harry’s mind was racing. He didn’t know what Voldemort could do with the torch, but he remembered
Snape’s final words and knew he had to hold him off as long as he could.

“Why’d you kill Snape?” Harry asked frantically.

“Why *wouldn’t* I kill him?” Voldemort replied with a chuckle. “He betrayed me and my
faithful.”

“What about Draco, then?” Harry asked. “Why did you let us escape with him?” He seemed to have
asked a good question this time, because Voldemort moved his gaze from the torch to Harry.

“A bit nosy, aren’t we?” he asked. “I let you escape with Draco because he betrayed me. There was a
tactical advantage to be gained by not harming him. You thought him to be my spy in the ministry. I
can tell you, that although he was a spy for me at one point, he was never the one you tried so
desperately to find . Letting you take him stopped your search for a little while – long enough for
me to deal with Wormtail.”

“You killed him,” Harry stated.

“To put it nicely,” Voldemort replied. “I have to say, he didn’t go as bravely as your father or as
valiantly as Black. He whined and pleaded with me until the end.”

“So who is your spy, then?” Harry asked.

“Oh, but why should I tell you and spoil the fun?” Voldemort asked. “I know the connection you have
with your mudblood soon-to-be wife. You could just tell her and that would spoil all of my future
plans. Of course, once I kill you both your marriage won’t really be ‘soon-to-be,’ will it? Where
is she, anyway?”

“She got knocked unconscious when I pushed her out of the way of the killing curse that *you*
sent at her,” Harry spat.

“Ah,” Voldemort said. “Pity.”

“I take it you can become invisible too?” Harry asked.

“I believe a man once said, ‘I do not need a cloak to become invisible’,” Voldemort replied with a
chuckle.

“Dumbledore said that,” Harry said.

“Really?” Voldemort replied. “I’ll have to thank him for that before I kill him. Of course it can
be difficult to kill someone when they can simply turn into a phoenix.”

“He’s a phoenix?” Harry asked.

“What, he never told you?” Voldemort laughed. “I have reasons not to trust my death eaters with
information, but for the old champion of muggles not to trust Harry Potter with the knowledge of
his animagus form? I find that to be quite humorous.”

“You’re a bastard,” Harry ground out.

“Now, now, Potter, you shouldn’t speak that way to your superiors.”

“You’re not my superior,” Harry replied. “You marked me as your equal.”

“I suppose I did...didn’t I?” Voldemort asked with a sick smile. “Well, I suppose it’s time to
remedy that.”

Harry felt a rush of power as Voldemort raised his right hand towards the torch and the green
flames began to dance out of place from it. The magical energy in the room started to increase as
the flames started to draw themselves away from the torch and towards Voldemort’s outstretched
hand. Harry desperately wracked his mind for some way to stop the Dark Lord, but came up with
nothing he could do with his wand sitting a few inches below his feet where he had dropped it when
he hit the door.

At the moment when the flames contacted Voldemort’s hand, the power in the room exploded in a
violent rush of air and magic, causing the invisible bindings holding Harry to the door to
disappear. He fell to the ground in a heap and grabbed for his wand, only to look up and see
Voldemort hovering a few feet off the ground, a green aura surrounding him. Harry looked to the
torch and saw, to his surprise, that green flames were still flickering away in the head.

“Now do you see?” Voldemort asked, though instead of his voice sounding cold and harsh, it was now
ethereal, almost godlike. “Infinite power. The torch cannot be extinguished, no matter what affects
it. All I have to do is keep taking energy from it. I am....invincible.”

Desperately, Harry fired a killing curse at the floating form of the Dark Lord and gasped when it
impacted on his body. Instead of killing him though, it merely made the aura pulse brighter.

“Absorbed into my body,” Voldemort said. “How will anyone be able to kill me when the most powerful
curse in existence merely strengthens me?”

Harry simply looked on at the floating form of the Dark Lord and felt his shoulders slump. There
was nothing he could do now. Not even Avada Kedavra would kill Voldemort.

“I sense the despair in you, Harry Potter,” Voldemort said. “You know that you are beaten.” Harry
stayed silent, looking at his hands. “It is a shame, really. You truly are more powerful than you
believe. Had it not been for a certain prophecy I might even attempt to welcome you into my ranks.
But having the only person who can kill you among your faithful isn’t exactly prudent planning. And
so, Harry Potter, tonight ends our eighteen-year long war.” Voldemort raised his hand and began to
gather a ball of green energy in it. Knowing it was useless to run, Harry merely braced himself for
the impact.

That was why he was quite startled when instead of hearing the icy whoosh of death, he heard a loud
crash. Harry opened his eyes to find Voldemort’s gaze following Fawkes, who had apparently flown in
right through the closed window. While he was distracted, a second phoenix flew in (though Harry
thought this one looked slightly older and grayer) and landed on Harry’s shoulder. It put its beak
in his ear as if to sing to him, but nearly made him jump in surprise when instead of hearing
phoenix song, Harry heard the voice of Albus Dumbledore.

“You cannot give up,” Dumbledore whispered. “You cannot let him win.”

“He already has,” Harry replied as Voldemort shot the ball of green energy at Fawkes, who narrowly
evaded it.

“Only if you let him,” Dumbledore said.

“He’ll kill me,” Harry said. “What’s the point of trying to win if he’ll just kill me either
way?”

“What was the point of Lily trying to save you, knowing that Voldemort was going to try to kill you
either way?” Dumbledore asked, causing Harry to smile slightly. “There is hope yet. Do not give
up.”

As Dumbledore finished these words, Voldemort managed to hit Fawkes with one of the blasts of
energy, causing the phoenix to explode into flames and drop to the ground. Dumbledore wasted no
time in speeding over to the baby phoenix, grabbing it in his beak, and flying out of the blasted
window, narrowly avoiding a ball of dark energy.

“So what did Dumbledore want anyway?” Voldemort asked, turning to face Harry again. “He hasn’t left
you anything...has he? Some protector.”

“He did make a valid point,” Harry said, getting to his feet.

“And what’s that?”

“It’s better to die trying, than to die having simply given up.”

“Foolish words,” Voldemort said as he raised his hand. “It will only serve to anger me and
potentially make your death and the mudblood’s more painful.”

“You wouldn’t,” Harry said staring his nemesis in the face.

“Oh I would,” Voldemort replied with a smile. “Come to think of it, that sounds like a rather grand
idea. Maybe I’ll spare you just long enough so that you can watch her die from the agony of the
Cruciatus Curse.”

“You will do no such thing,” Harry ground out, the same unearthly red aura from the Burrow battle
starting to surround him.

“And who will stop me?” Voldemort asked. “You? Surely you don’t believe you can kill me.”

“Maybe not,” Harry said, the his own aura now shining as brightly as Voldemort’s. “But I’ll give
you one hell of a fight.”

Without wasting another second, Harry raised his right hand and fired a blast of red energy at
Voldemort. The action caught the Dark Lord so completely off guard, that he barely had time to
raise his own hand and fire a bolt of green energy back at Harry.

And then something happened that caught both of them by surprise. The two blasts impacted against
each other in midair, but instead of exploding, or dissipating, or anything else that Harry
would’ve expected, they joined together, creating a narrow beam of golden light that connected
Harry and Voldemort by their outstretched hands.

“This cannot be...” Voldemort whispered, as Harry was lifted off the ground to the Dark Lord’s
level.

“The brother wand effect,” Harry stated, as two beads of light appeared in the middle of the golden
beam. “Perhaps there is more to us then even we know, Tom.” Harry could see the fear in Voldemort’s
eyes and came to the same conclusion that he knew the Dark Lord must have also reached. If Harry
had beaten him at this once before, he could do it again.

So remembering what he did at the end of his fourth year, Harry concentrated all his power and
might on forcing the beads of light to move towards Lord Voldemort. He could see – no, he could
feel Voldemort struggling to force the light back towards Harry, but it was to no avail. A few
seconds later the beads of light touched the skin on Voldemort’s pale, wrinkled hand, and the
tremendous scream from the Dark Lord that followed was loud enough to shatter what was left of the
unbroken glass in the room.

The green aura surrounding Voldemort exploded, rushing towards Harry. He felt the green energy
surround and engulf him, and using what was left of his remaining energy, Harry forced his own aura
outward to protect himself. Just as he felt the last of his power draining away, the rush of dark
energy stopped, and both he and Voldemort fell to the ground.

Harry looked up and saw Voldemort laying in a heap on the floor, breathing slightly. Struggling to
his feet, Harry staggered over to the wall of the office and pulled Godric’s Sword, still stained
with the blood of the basilisk, from the holder on the mantle.

“It slew the pet of Slytherin, now it will slay the heir,” Harry said as he stood over Voldemort,
who was looking up at him with his hateful, red eyes. “I always told Ron I’d avenge his
death.”

“So, for Weasley, then?” Voldemort spat.

“No,” Harry replied. “For me.”

Without waiting a moment longer, Harry swung the blade of the sword down in a graceful arc.

This time, there were no screams. No explosions. No golden threads of light. The was simply a dull
thud as the head of Tom Riddle fell to the floor of the office, black blood oozing from its base.
Harry picked up the discarded wand of his nemesis and pocketed it in his robes, vaguely registering
the sound of frantic footsteps before blacking out and collapsing to the floor.

---------------

One chapter to go. Normally I’d say something sappy here, but this is the time when us H/Hr’s must
stand together and fight because of recent developments in the wizarding world.

There are probably a fair number of people who know this already (at least anyone who goes to
mugglenet like myself), but lately, pictures of a promotional cardboard countdown standup that will
go up in bookstores on May 27th (50 days before the release of HBP) have been released, and in my
opinion, severely hurt the H.M.S. Pumpkin Pie. I am truly troubled by this picture (I will not
directly link it because there is the possibility for legal implications). Those who wish to may
view it by going to mugglenet.com, and clicking on the link under ‘HBP Promotional Stand - New
Grandpre Art!’ I have one thing to say on the matter before I go, and that is this:

Should the loyal and true sails of the Pumpkin Pie be lowered on some sad, dark day in the future,
let it be known to all of us faithful shippers that we fought the good fight. Perhaps the steadfast
logics and ideals we believe in are best left untouched, for the majority of the world is not that,
and would not understand something so pure.

The relationships that we support will always live true in our hearts, not for the logic of a
brilliant author none of us know, but for what *we* know is just and right. Therefore, I
propose a toast to all of my fellow shippers. If, some day, we become divided by the very people we
despise, let us never forget the time we had together in blissful ignorance of the dark days to
come. Let us remember the days when we valiantly sailed the oceans of fandom on a ship whose
heading always was hard and true. To remembrance.

And, in the wonderful case that I’m an idiot and my fears are unjustified, let us then raise our
glasses in victory, as there would truly be justice in the world!

I’ve been reading too much Shakespeare lately lol. Now, as we approach the end of my trilogy, I
would like to thank each and every person who has ever reviewed, and especially to all of those who
stayed with me for the entire time. You have been my energy to keep writing, and I don’t think I
would have ever completed such a monumental task without you. I am truly in your debt.

Next week: The conclusion.



17. A New Beginning
-------------------

*And now, the end is near.
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I'll say it clear,
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full.
I've traveled each and every highway...
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.*

– Frank Sinatra

And so at least we reach the end of my saga. Keeping with tradition, it’s over 10K words, so enjoy
it. I will save the long speech for the end, and instead put concrete information on my next work
out. It will be entitled Fawkes’ Gift, the sequel to Ahn Na Blue’s ‘What It Costs To Save The
World,’ and the story premier will be on April 29th, the Friday after I return from my vacation in
Detroit. It has been a long and wonderful road, and I hope each and every one of you enjoy the end
of this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

---------------

Chapter 17: A New Beginning

A dull thud echoed in Harry’s head.

Then it happened again.

Forcing his brain into conscious thought, he determined after a few more thuds that he was
listening to his heart beat. Figuring he was alive if his heart was beating, he tiredly opened an
eyelid to see where he was.

‘Nighttime. Hospital wing,’ he thought, recognising the ceiling even in the darkness.
‘Figures.’

“Harry.”

The voice startled Harry and if he hadn’t been so drained or exhausted, he would’ve jumped at the
noise. He made to turn his head to see the speaker, but was cut off before he could make the
movement.

“Do not tire yourself, Harry,” the voice said. “You’ve had a busy day. For now, just rest.”

And he did just that.

=====

When he awoke the next morning, Harry squinted at the bright light coming in from the windows.
Using his hand to shield the glare, he saw the tired but smiling form of Albus Dumbledore sitting
on a chair next to his bed.

“I trust you had a good night sleep?” Dumbledore asked. “I thought about telling Mister Weasley and
your fiancee when you regained consciousness last night, but you seemed rather exhausted.”

“Where’s my wand?” Harry asked, looking around. “Voldemort’s wand?”

“Right to the point,” Dumbledore said. “They have both been sitting on the nightstand next to the
bed since you were brought here.”

“How long have I been here?” Harry asked, fearing that he might’ve been out for another three
months.

“Twelve hours,” Dumbledore replied, causing Harry to relax slightly. “A bit less than your last
episode, to say the least.”

“Yeah...” said Harry, running his hand through his hair. “Speaking of which, where is
Hermione?”

“I insisted that she have some breakfast and get cleaned up,” Dumbledore said. “None of us smelled
too clean after that battle yesterday.”

“She’s okay then?” Harry asked.

“A bit of a bump on the head, you pushed her rather hard,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “But
nothing that time won’t heal.”

“And Voldemort...is he really...”

“Gone?” Dumbledore asked when Harry trailed off. “Yes, Harry. He is gone. Whilst there are many
ways to end someone’s life in the wizarding world, sometimes none can be as effective as some of
the muggle ones.”

“What did you do with his body?” Harry asked.

“For the moment, it is still residing in my office, so none have to bear witness to the
rather...gruesome state you left it in,” Dumbledore said amused, causing Harry to bow his head in
shame slightly. “But since you have sacrificed so much to end this war, I thought it fitting that
you should be the one to decide what happens to Tom Riddle’s remains.”

“Bury him in a muggle cemetery,” Harry replied instantly. “I don’t care where, but I’ll be damned
if he gets to rest with others of our kind.”

“A fitting response,” Dumbledore said. “I will personally take care of it tomorrow.”

“How did I kill him, anyway?” Harry asked.

“You cut his head off,” Albus replied bluntly, though it was with a smile.

“I mean before that,” Harry said. “With the energy.”

“Your power is derived from love, Tom’s from hate,” Dumbledore said. “In the event that the two
meet and clash, love will always win.”

“What about the priori incantatem effect?” Harry asked.

“It is a very strange and wonderful phenomenon, the brother wand effect,” Dumbledore said. “But the
‘brother wand effect’ is not the correct term, even though it is the one that most people use.
‘Brother magic’ is more accurate. For you see, Harry, magic does not come from the wooden sticks
that we point at objects and people. It comes from within. Like blood, it also has its own unique
signature in people. Normally, nothing of this sort happens when magic-related people send spells
at each other. But that is because they are using wands, and their magic isn’t pure. When you and
Voldemort each used your own sources of power, yours being love and his hate, and sent them at each
other, the magical signatures locked, much like they will when brother wands meet. What happened
afterward, you already know.” Harry nodded solemnly as Dumbledore finished his explanation. “Is
there anything else you wish to ask me?”

“Professor, how come you didn’t tell me that you were a phoenix?” Harry asked. Dumbledore
considered him carefully for a moment.

“First of all, Harry, I will not have you calling me ‘Professor’, like you are just some inferior
student,” the headmaster said. “I have always hated the titles that are given to adults simply
because they are *adults*. Humans are humans, and should treat each other with the same amount
of respect, regardless of age, status, or knowledge. However, many do not share my views, as you
well know.” Harry smiled at this. “You have proven in the past twenty-four hours to be much more of
a man than many who address me by my first name.”

“All right......Albus,” Harry said hesitantly.

“Much better,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I’ve always liked my first name, anyway. Has a rather
nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Um...sir –”

“Albus, Harry. Albus.”

“Albus,” Harry corrected. “Now I know how it feels to be Dobby.” This prompted a chuckle from both
of them.

“You want to know why I kept my animagus form a secret from you?” Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded.
“Well, I do confess myself rather disappointed that you had to find out the way you did. I had
rather hoped you would get to find out some day in the future, when you were much older.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Because it directly relates to a story that is the *true* reason the prophecy was made in the
first place.”

“I thought prophecies couldn’t be planned,” Harry said. “That they only happened at the spur of the
moment.”

“What I mean is that without what I am about to tell you happening, it is very likely that the
prophecy would never have been made,” Dumbledore revised.

“Oh,” Harry said.

“The phoenix is a magical creature, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “Very few have animagus
transformations that are magical. In the past millenium, there have been in fact only four wizards
or witches that could turn into magical creatures, including yourself and Hermione.”

“You were obviously the third,” Harry said. “But who was the fourth?”

“The fourth was my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather,” Dumbledore said. “Like
myself, he too could turn into a phoenix.”

“Who was he?” Harry asked.

“Do you really need to ask that question?” Dumbledore countered. Harry started into the
headmaster’s twinkling eyes for a moment before the truth hit him.

“Gryffindor...” he breathed. “You’re the heir of Gryffindor.”

“Correct,” Dumbledore replied. “It was Tom’s reason for my being the ‘only one he ever feared’.
Riddle was always of the opinion that only the heir of Gryffindor would kill the heir of Slytherin
and end the battle one thousand years in the making, but it was never to be.”

“What battle?” Harry asked.

“The Founder’s War,” Dumbledore said. “It is something that is not taught in History of Magic
classes anywhere around the world anymore. It was the first and only world war in the wizarding
world. And it started with the founders of this school.”

“Between Gryffindor and Slytherin,” Harry said.

“Yes...and no,” Dumbledore replied. “There was a point in time where the founders were inseparable,
much like yourself, Hermione, and Ron. However, love, while it can create and hold strong bonds
between people, can break them just as easily. To make a long and boring love story short,
Gryffindor and Slytherin entered an argument one day over a woman. Rowena Ravenclaw, to be
exact.”

“They each fancied her?” Harry asked, fascinated.

“No,” Dumbledore replied. “Salazzar fancied her. Godric, however, was in love with her, much like
you are with Hermione.”

“Oh.”

“You understand, of course, that Salazzar Slytherin was not a man who liked to lose at anything. So
when it became clear that Rowena did not reciprocate his feelings, he started a sort of personal
feud with Godric.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“It started out as small competitions,” Dumbledore said. “Who would get Rowena better gifts on
holidays, who could instruct their pupils to do better...petty and rather ignorant things that only
served to anger Salazzar further, because Godric never lost. Godric didn’t even know he was in a
competition until it was too late.”

“Too late?”

“One day after a especially vicious argument between Rowena and Salazzar, the head of Slytherin
sneaked into Godric’s quarters and murdered him in cold blood,” Dumbledore said gravely. “They say
that the founders were divided because of their views on teaching muggle-borns, but that really
isn’t the truth. The Founder’s War started because of the murder of Godric Gryffindor.”

“If Gryffindor was murdered, how can you possibly be his heir?” Harry asked.

“Rowena became pregnant with my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather two weeks before
the murder,” Dumbledore said. “On the night he proposed to her, I believe. Anyway, after Godric’s
death, Rowena vowed to avenge him no matter the cost. Salazzar, hearing of this, fled the school to
gather an army and take it for his own.”

“Did he manage it?” Harry asked.

“Of course not, my dear boy,” Dumbledore replied with a laugh. “If he had, none of us would be here
today. War broke out across the continent, culminating in an epic battle, perhaps a thousand times
larger than yesterday’s, which was fought on these grounds a few months later. Tens of thousands of
wizards, creatures, and machines of war gathered here and fought.”

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“Merlin,” Dumbledore replied. At Harry’s inquisitive stare, he continued. “Many people know Merlin
for his accomplishment’s as Arthur Pendragon’s primary advisor and friend, but that was not his
greatest accomplishment. The battle I speak of took place fifty years before Arthur’s birth, and
was ended by Merlin, who, growing tired of the incessant fighting, destroyed half of the armies on
both sides with a single curse and forced all those who were left to see reason. Unlike Rowena,
Slytherin refused to accept his terms, so Merlin banished him to the far east, where he had his
only child with a Japanese witch. Rowena gave birth six months later. Merlin, however, spent his
next five decades in a small wooden hut, resting from the feat that easily saved all of
wizard-kind, before a young servant boy by the name of Arthur wandered across his hut.”

Well...that’s a really interesting story,” Harry said, once it became apparent that Dumbledore was
done speaking. “But what does that have to do with me or why you didn’t tell me about your
animagus?”

“If you knew about my animagus, either you or Hermione would have undoubtedly researched the roots
of it, and in turn, uncovered the story I have just told you. I did not want that to happen. I
wanted you to hear it directly from me, the truth, and not from the dusty, rotten pages of some
book that is over a thousand years old.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“I told you, in the explanation of why you triumphed over Tom Riddle, that it was because love will
always defeat hate that you killed him,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “While that is true, it is
not the only reason you ended this war.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

“Magical transformations are extremely rare,” Dumbledore repeated. “Hermione Granger is the first
muggle-born in history to have a magical animagus. *You*, however, are not muggle-born. Your
lineage not only gives you the power to turn into a Singa, but it also gave you the power to end
wars. It is your ancestry that was the source of the magic behind the prophecy.”

“Are...are you saying that I’m related to...to Merlin?” Harry asked, piecing the puzzle
together.

“Indirectly, but yes,” Dumbledore said. “Merlin himself never had children, but he did bestow all
of his powers to a peasant before his death. That peasant was your
great-great-great-great-great...well you get the idea. Although not by blood, you are, by magic,
the last of Merlin’s line. Until you and Hermione procreate, that is.”

“Did my father know?” Harry asked

“No,” Dumbledore replied. “It is not a secret that should be divulged easily, Harry. Being part of
Merlin’s line...imagine the kind of publicity that would create. I only know because of my relation
to Godric. I am telling you because you have done things no typical wizard or witch could ever
accomplish. You deserve to know the reason for your power.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Harry asked breathlessly.

“I did not want to tell you such a thing before you defeated Voldemort,” Dumbledore said. “I always
knew you had the ability to defeat him, but I did not want to give you the idea that you were
invincible. Such a thing could perhaps have turned you into the next dark lord.”

“All I wanted was to be like everyone else,” Harry said with a sigh, looking at the sheets on his
bed. “All I wanted was to live a normal life.”

“There is no such thing as a normal life. There is only life. And you get on with it,” Dumbledore
said with a sad smile. “Remember, though, that the destination is never to be expected. That makes
for a boring story, a boring tale, a boring life. It is the unexpected that makes us who we truly
are.”

“I suppose,” Harry said heavily.

“Remember that closure always comes eventually, whether it be in the form of love, or death, or
something greater. Just as no peace can last forever, neither can despair. Time eventually heals
all wounds, and though we never forget them, they make us stronger in the end. You would do well to
not forget that, Harry.”

“I won’t,” he replied, strengthened somewhat by the headmaster’s words.

“Now, I think that Hermione is returning from her breakfast, so I’ll leave you two in peace to work
everything out. I dare say, I’m rather famished myself, and could definitely use some of Dobby’s
exquisite cooking.”

“He’s okay then?” Harry asked as Dumbledore stood from his seat.

“A few scratches here and there, but none worse for the wear,” the headmaster replied with a smile.
“Due to the excellent planning of a certain someone, we had a medical team on standby for anyone
who got injured, and only suffered five casualties, three elven, two human. And you already know
who the humans are.”

“Yes sir.”

“Albus, Harry. Albus.” Harry nodded and smiled at the headmaster who warmly returned the grin
before walking out of the hospital wing. Harry had just heard the door shut when it burst open
again, Hermione flying through the double doors and into his open arms.

“You stupid, stupid, man,” she said into Harry’s chest, holding him as tightly as she could.

“Nice to see you too,” he replied. Hermione looked up at him and he saw there were tears running
down her cheeks.

“Why did you have to go and fight him alone?” she asked. “I woke up and they told me you were
fighting Voldemort in Dumbledore’s office....I couldn’t even talk to you through our link –”

“Hermione.”

“I was so scared that I was going to lose you...”

“Hermione,” Harry said more sternly cutting her off. “Listen, my first priority was always to make
sure you were safe, no matter what happened. My second was to kill Voldemort. I accomplished both,
and I didn’t even come out of it that badly. If you want me to apologise, I will, but I cannot say
I regret the outcome of what’s happened in the past twenty-four hours.”

“I....I’m sorry,” she said looking away. “All this time you knew it was going to be you and
Voldemort in the end...I haven’t exactly made things easy on you, have I?”

“Hermione,” Harry said, turning her face to look at him. “I would not have survived these past two
years without you. We both know that I’d have given up hope a long time ago if you hadn’t made me
realise I was in love with you.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, Harry simply lowered his lips onto Hermione’s in a single
kiss, trying to convey all the love he felt for her.

“Harry...” Hermione breathed. “I want to be your wife.”

“I want you to be my wife too,” Harry said with a grin.

“No,” Hermione said. “I want to be your wife now.” It took Harry a moment to register what she
really meant.

“Now?” he asked. “Isn’t that a little soon?”

“I don’t care anymore,” she replied. “I want the rest of the world to know that there will never be
another man I love as much as you.”

“Well then how about tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Give me at least a little time to set up the wedding
of your dreams.”

“I think I can handle that,” Hermione said, kissing Harry again. “I suppose having it today would
be a bad idea anyway, since we’ve both seen each other.”

“How in the name of Merlin are we going to get all the invitations out in time?” Harry asked
smiling at his soon-to-be (‘*Take that Voldemort!*’) wife.

“I think I can handle that,” a voice from the doorway said.

“Ron!” Harry and Hermione exclaimed at the same time.

“You were perhaps expecting Snape?” Ron joked. At the look on Harry’s face, Ron’s mood dampened
slightly. “Still too soon, eh?”

“He saved all of your lives in sixth year,” Harry said. “Including Luna’s.”

“I suppose,” Ron said, looking at the closed curtain behind which the bodies of Snape and Malfoy
were lying. “Guess I owe him for that.”

“I wish I could’ve asked him a few things before he died,” Harry said. “I always like hearing
stories about my parents.”

“He hated your father, Harry,” Hermione said. “I don’t think his stories about him would be too
kind.”

“Well, my mum, then,” Harry revised. “Anyway, you were saying you could help with invitations,
Ron?”

“Sure,” Ron said. “Fred and George have the floo alert system down pat because of the business. I
can just ask them to tell me how to mass deliver a message, or in this case, letters.”

“Speaking of letters,” Hermione said jumping up. “I have to alert my mum and start hunting for a
wedding dress.”

“All right,” Harry said, kissing her when she leaned over his bed. “Does this mean we won’t be
seeing each other again until sometime tomorrow?”

“I suppose,” she replied. “Don’t stay up too late having a party,” she added, looking at Ron.

“Don’t worry, I’ll want to be well rested for tomorrow.”

“Could you two stop that before I dry heave?” Ron asked, though he was smirking.

“I’ll stay at the Burrow tonight,” Harry said, ignoring Ron. “You can stay at Grimmauld Place or
here, wherever you want.”

“I’ll stay at home,” Hermione said. “Going to have to talk to my mom all night, after all.”

“Of course,” Harry replied.

‘See you later,’ Hermione said silently before leaving.

“I think I’ll leave and start on those invitations, then,” the ghost said, floating towards the
doors. “Everyone you know, right Harry?”

“Might as well,” Harry replied. “I don’t think there’s anyone left that I really don’t like
anymore.”

“Crabbe and Goyle?” Ron asked.

“Thanks for ruining my moment,” Harry deadpanned, causing Ron to laugh.

“Oh, and after I’m done with that, we’re going out with Remus and the twins to celebrate your last
day of freedom.”

“More like my first,” Harry said.

“Yeah...” Ron said, smiling at Harry. “Must feel good not to have a dark lord hanging over your
head all the time.”

“Speaking of which,” Harry said turning to the nightstand. “I promised you something.” He felt Ron
tense up as he produced Voldemort’s wand and laid it on his bed for the ghost to see. “I promised
you that I’d get it.”

“The tool that killed Luna,” Ron said in a shaky voice. Silently, he raised his left hand, causing
the wand to hover off the bed. The ghost closed his eyes and suddenly the air in the room started
to crackle with magic. Without warning the wand exploded, the shards of wood not having time to do
damage, having evaporated into thin air. “It will do no more harm in this world.” He turned and
faced Harry. “Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do,” he replied. “I was hoping I could get a favor from you in return,
though.”

“What’s that?” Ron asked warily.

“Would you be my Best Man tomorrow?”

“Harry, mate, I’d love to,” Ron said. “Now, let me go alert Fred and George. There are invitations
to be sent, and parties to be had.”

“All right,” Harry said with a smile. “I should probably go and talk to Dumbledore about using the
Great Hall anway.”

“You do that mate,” Ron replied. “I’ll meet you at the Burrow in a few hours, all right?”

“That’s fine,” Harry said. “Oh, but don’t send Remus an invitation. I want to pick him up in
person.”

“Sure thing. See you around.”

Harry nodded as Ron floated out of the hospital wing. Amazed that in the span of twenty four hours
he’d killed Voldemort, found out he was the heir of Merlin, and then decided to get married the day
after, he got out of bed and proceeded to throw on some decent clothes. He had just finished
getting dressed when the doors opened and, to Harry’s surprise, Ginny walked through.

“Hi, Ginny,” he said brightly. “Have you heard the news?”

“Yeah,” she responded with a smile. “Hermione found me and asked me to be her Maid of Honor.”

“Great,” Harry said warmly. “I’m just off to see Dumbledore about the Great Hall for
tomorrow.”

“Don’t let me hold you up then,” Ginny said, though Harry detected that her tone was perhaps a
little subdued.

“Is something the matter?” he asked. Ginny’s eyes suddenly started shining brightly, and Harry
gathered that she was holding back tears.

“No,” she said, her voice quavering. “Nothing.”

“It’s Malfoy, isn’t it?” Harry asked.

“No!” Ginny said a little too quickly. “I mean....I...”

“You can go and see him if you want,” Harry said, pointing behind the closed curtain. “I won’t tell
anyone if you don’t want me to.” Ginny sniffled once before smiling and wrapping her arms around
him in a hug.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Harry said, picking his wand up and stowing it in his robes before walking
to the doors of the hospital wing. He turned around when he reached them and saw Ginny walk behind
the curtains, sniffling slightly. Sighing, he exited the ward and walked towards Dumbledore’s
office.

=====

“So we’re all set for tomorrow then?” Harry asked, still slightly amazed that Dumbledore had
managed to clean up his office already.

“Of course,” he said. “I’m sure the house-elves will be more than happy to help out with the
decorations. Everything will be set up for eleven.”

“Thank you Albus,” Harry said, standing up and shaking the headmaster’s hand. “This really means a
lot to me, especially since it’s such a spur of the moment thing.”

“I’m being completely honest when I say that it’s the least we could do for you, Harry,” Dumbledore
replied, “given what you’ve done.”

“Yeah...” Harry said absently. “Well, I’m off to grab Remus. Ron is insisting that I have some form
of bachelor party before tomorrow.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Dumbledore said. “You may use my floo if you want.”

“Thanks,” Harry answered, walking over to the mantle and grabbing a handful of floo powder. He was
about to throw it in the fire when he saw something and stopped. “Albus?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Do you think I could have that?” he asked, pointing at the sword of Gryffindor. “I’d like to give
it to a friend of mine.” Dumbledore smiled.

“I think that can be arranged. I’ll have Dobby drop it off at Grimmauld Place later tomorrow.”
Harry smiled and nodded at the headmaster before dropping some floo powder in the alcove and
yelling, “Ministry of Magic, Visitor’s Entrance.”

When he arrived there a moment later, Harry brushed himself off and made his way to the lift after
showing his identification to the security wizard. Humming slightly to himself, he pressed the
number ‘4’, and the doors clanged shut. When he arrived at his destination, Harry was once again
greeted by Jacob Dells and his dog, Brutus.

“What do you want?” Dells asked.

“I’m here to see Remus,” Harry replied.

“Go on then,” the man growled. Harry nodded in thanks and walked down the aisle to Remus’ cubicle,
only to find it empty. Standing on his tiptoes, he scanned the room to see if Remus was somewhere
else. Harry’s surrogate godfather was *definitely* not on the floor though, so he walked back
over to Dells.

“Do you know where Remus is?” Harry asked. “He isn’t at his cubicle.”

“Hmph,” the man huffed. “Figures. Probably taking an extended lunch.”

“Er...thanks,” Harry said as he walked away towards the lift. He didn’t notice the man’s eyes
follow him the entire way, or how he quickly walked towards the lift on the other side of the floor
when Harry had turned his back.

Harry arrived in the atrium a few minutes later only to find that it was empty, save for the
waitress who was cleaning tables.

“Excuse me,” he asked her politely. “Has anyone been in here recently?”

“Not in the past half hour,” she replied. “Who are you looking for?”

“Just a friend,” Harry said, turning around and walking away.

Worry started to lace Harry’s thoughts as he made his way to the reception desk. If anyone knew
where Remus should be, he was betting that Rose McClellan would.

“Excuse me?” he asked the receptionist (who was doing her nails). “Could you tell me how to get to
Rose McClellan’s office?”

“Ms. McClellan is the Senior Assistant to the Minister,” the receptionist replied without looking
up. “I can’t let anyone just go up and see her.” Although he hated using his name to get what he
wanted, Harry decided that now was as good a time as any.

“And Harry Potter is just anyone?” he asked, crossing his arms. The receptionist visibly balked
upon looking up and seeing the Boy-Who-Killed-Voldemort standing there.

“Oh, Mister Potter I’m so sorry,” she said, ruffling through a drawer for a pass. “Here. Take the
lift to floor ten. Third office on the left.”

“Thank you,” Harry said rolling his eyes as he made his way back to the elevator.

When Harry arrived on the tenth floor, he wasted no time in walking over to Rose’s office, only to
find the door unlocked and ajar. His auror senses kicking in, he drew his wand and edged inside the
office. It was empty save an elegant mahogany desk by the window.

‘It’s too quiet in here,’ Harry thought to himself. Deciding he would snoop around for clues a
little bit, he erected a ten foot perimeter charm around himself so he would know if anyone was
approaching. Harry took one step and felt it go off.

Whirling around he saw the door slam shut behind him. When he turned around again he expected to be
facing a death eater, and was surprised when he was still facing an empty room. Assuming there was
more to the room than he could see, Harry pointed his wand at the ceiling and said,
“Dispelium.”

“That certainly took you long enough, Potter.”

The masking charms on the room disappeared and Harry felt his heart, lungs, and stomach all plummet
through the bottom of his feet at the scene that was revealed in front of him.

Remus was tied to a chair, bound and gagged, and presumably unconscious. Standing behind him was
Rose, wand drawn and pointed right at Harry.

“It was *you*,” he said menacingly.

“Me,” she spat at him. “You should have figured it out so much earlier, but thankfully your
stupidity exceeds your arrogance.”

“I’m sure you would know a lot about arrogance,” Harry countered. “After all, you worked for
Voldemort.”

“DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!” Rose screeched. Before Harry could react she had flicked her wrist and sent
Harry into the wall, while summoning his wand. “I should kill this filthy half-breed in front of
you just to hear you plead with me.”

“You wouldn’t,” Harry replied, getting up slowly. “You already know that it was my ‘righteous
anger’ that finished off your lord in the first place.”

“Hmm...yes, and now I take his place,” Rose said. “After all, when you’re related to the Malfoys
and Lestranges, you always do rank high among death eaters.”

“You were related to them?” Harry asked.

“Bella’s second cousin,” Rose replied.

“That’s a lie,” Harry countered. “The ministry does background checks. They never would’ve promoted
you.”

“If the minister himself ordered the promotion, who would dare go against it?” she asked with a
cackle. “Oh yes, Harry. Now you piece it all together,” she said at Harry’s shocked expression. “I
had Weasley under Imperious from day one. It was the reason that Dumbledore wanted Draco close to
him. He was always suspicious...but when you thought that Draco was the spy, that was priceless.
Talk about giving me free reign.”

“That’s how you knew about Sirius’ commemoration ceremony,” Harry breathed. “You bloody planned it
all!”

“Of course,” Rose replied. “And that attack on the Burrow was so well timed. Just after Draco
dumped that Weasel brat, and just after he had been inducted. Everyone thought he was to blame, so
why does it come as a surprise that Remus here failed to tell anyone that he had told me about his
helping them move back?”

“He told me,” Harry said shaking his head slightly. “Told me when we were having lunch.”

“And it never occurred to you that it was *that* little bit of information that prompted the
attack?” Rose asked. Harry just stared slack-jawed at her. “And they say you’re the most powerful
wizard since Dumbledore and the Dark Lord himself. Today, I have revenge for my master. AVADA –
”

Harry cringed and prepared to roll out of the way, but found that wasn’t necessary as the door to
the office was blasted off its hinges and Brutus the dog flew into the room and started attacking
Rose. The dog was followed by his master, who promptly stunned the startled witch and sent her to
the floor, unconscious.

“You all right?” Dells asked, ropes flying from the tip of his wand and binding Rose’s wrists and
ankles.

“Yeah...” Harry breathed, walking over to Remus. “How’d you know where to find us?”

“I followed you,” he said, walking over to the bulldog and patting him. “Had a feeling something
was amiss.”

“Why’d you come?” Harry asked. “Don’t you hate Remus?”

“Don’t hate him at all,” Dells replied. “Just think that he’s a bit of a slacker.” Harry snorted.
“Besides, it wouldn’t do at all to just let my nephew get killed.”

Harry did a double-take.

“Wait...what?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Dells said. “Didn’t your aunt or uncle ever tell you that Vernon had a
brother?”

“You...you’re Vernon’s brother?” Harry asked incredulous, momentarily forgetting about Remus.

“Yeah,” Jacob replied. “They always hated what I was anyway. Marge is the only one who even keeps
in contact with me. Brutus in hers, in case you’re wondering.”

“I thought that dog looked familiar!” Harry exclaimed, looking at the bulldog who was now sitting
back on its haunches licking its lips lazily.

“Yes, well, I’d better get her down to the holding cells,” Dells said, nodding at Rose. “Why don’t
you take Remus to the hospital ward at Hogwarts so he can get looked at?”

“Er...okay,” Harry said as Dells levitated Rose and started to float her out the door.
“Jacob?”

“Yeah?” the man grunted.

“Thanks.”

A lopsided grin not unlike Moody’s spread across the man’s face as he chuckled.

“Just don’t tell Vernon I saved your life,” the man said. “From what Marge tells me, he wasn’t too
keen on you.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Harry muttered as his uncle walked out of the office. Sighing, he turned to
Remus and shot a spray of cold water on his face. He immediately woke up and started to struggle
against his bonds before noticing that Harry was looking at him and calmed down.

“Harry...I’m so sorry,” he said breathlessly. “I should’ve seen it, I should’ve known, I should’ve
–”

“Remus, shut up,” Harry said with a laugh. “It’s over. She was captured.”

“What?” Remus asked. “How?”

“It’s a bit of a story,” Harry replied, finishing releasing Remus from his bonds. “Are you okay to
come with me?”

“Sure,” Remus said. “Where are we going?”

“My bachelor party,” Harry replied.

“Your...wait, *bachelor party*?!” Remus asked. Harry nodded.

“I’ll tell you all about it on the way there.”

It turned out that ‘getting there’ was trickier than Harry thought. He was swamped by reporters on
the way out of the ministry asking him what had just happened, and how he had defeated Voldemort.
Deciding certain things were better left to someone else, he delegated the task of answering
questions to Jacob, who had just reappeared from the holding area.

That night was one of the most enjoyable for Harry in a long time. Fred and George had originally
wanted to hire muggle strippers, but Harry put his foot down, saying that it would be a waste of
money. The twins had countered by saying it would be enjoyable for them, but Ron silenced the
argument by saying that this was Harry’s party.

So instead, the night was spent drinking butterbeer and playing Exploding Snap while talking about
anything and everything (thought it seemed that the topic of the hour was the Marauders, something
Remus was more than happy to reminisce about). Everyone finally went to sleep at around one in the
morning, all giddy with excitement about what the day to come would bring.

=====

“Harry. Harry! MATE WAKE UP!”

“I’m up Ron! What do you want?”

“I want you to get up, unless *you* want to be late for your own wedding.” Harry bolted out of
bed and looked at his watch. The hands read 10:22.

“Blast, we were supposed to be at Hogwarts an hour early to get ready!” Harry shouted, throwing on
whatever clothes he could find.

“Everyone else is already there,” Ron said. “I sent them ahead. We just need to get moving.”

“All right, I’m ready,” Harry said. “Where’s the portkey?”

“Right there,” Ron replied pointing at an old quaffle sitting on the besides table. “It’ll go off
when we both touch it.”

“Let’s get to it then,” Harry said, putting his hand on the quaffle. The moment Ron’s transparent
hand touched the rough, red surface of the ball, Harry felt the familiar yank from behind his navel
and was whisked away in a blur.

“Glad to see you two made it,” a familiar voice said when they landed in Flitwick’s classroom
(which he had graciously let them use to get ready). Harry turned around and saw Remus looking at
them through a mirror while fixing his tie, while Fred and George were in the corner consulting
amongst themselves.

“Don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get changed and write my vows,” Harry said, grabbing the tux
laid out for him on a chair and disappearing into the storage closet.

“A little on edge, isn’t he?” Remus asked Ron when the door closed.

“It’s his wedding, I can’t really blame him,” Ron replied.

“There’s going to be hell to pay at the ministry tomorrow,” Remus sighed. “We violated at least a
dozen protocols when we just left yesterday.”

“I thought that Jacob fellow took care of it,” Fred said.

“Yeah, but he can’t do everything by himself,” Remus replied as Harry walked out of the closet,
fully dressed.

“That was fast.” George remarked.

“So I used magic,” Harry said with a grin. Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Are you all decent in there?” a familiar female voice shouted.

“Yeah, come on in,” George yelled back.

The door opened to reveal Tonks, who was sporting straight, light pink hair and a matching
bridesmaid dress.

“Well, don’t you all look handsome,” she said beaming at Harry, who blushed.

“Thanks,” all the men muttered.

“Nervous, Harry?” Tonks asked.

“I’d be lying if I said I was completely fine,” he replied. “I don’t really understand it that
much, to tell the truth. I’ll still love Hermione with all my heart, so I don’t get why I’m so
fidgety.”

“Because you’ll be together forever in the eyes of the people now,” Tonks replied wisely. “You may
already be married from the Universe’s perspective, but you know better that everyone else doesn’t
really fall into that category. You’re simply shouting your love for Hermione to the world, instead
of just her.”

“I guess that kinda makes sense,” Harry sighed.

“How are your vows coming?” Tonks asked.

“Just about to start them,” he answered, pulling out a small leaf of parchment and a quill.

“All right, well, I’ll leave you boys in peace then,” Tonks said.

“Wait,” Harry said before she could leave. “Um...could you tell Hermione I love her?”

“You could tell her yourself, you know,” Ron pointed out.

“I feel like it’d be cheating though,” Harry said. “Since it’s today and all.”

“I’ll be happy to,” Tonks said. “And Remus, sorry about Rose.”

“News spreads fast, huh?” Remus said with a wry smile.

“I take it you didn’t read the Prophet this morning?” Tonks asked. “Well it doesn’t matter. Lets
just say they plastered her face all over the front page and gave all the credit for the capture to
your boss. They didn’t mention you or Harry in the story.”

“How incredibly unlike them,” Harry commented, staring at his blank page.

“I think Percy had something to do with it,” Tonks said. “Probably wanted to give you peace and
quiet before today.”

“Does he know?” Harry asked, looking up. “About the wedding, I mean?”

“Are you kidding?” Fred asked. “When Mum found out she went nuts. Probably told half of England.”
Harry chuckled slightly at this.

“So Remus, do you think I could persuade you for a dance at the reception?” Tonks asked, flashing a
smile at him.

“You can have the first,” Remus replied in a gentlemanly voice.

“I’ll hold you to that, wolf,” Tonks said with a smile.

“Of course you will, Nymph,” Remus countered, prompting Tonk’s face to turn the color of her
gown.

“I’m off, then,” she said. “Don’t be late.” Tonks stepped out of the room and closed the door
behind her. Promptly catcalls sounded throughout the room.

“Oh, lay off,” Remus said turning back to the mirror.

“You know she’s fancied you for quite a while,” Harry commented absently. Remus spun around.

“Er...you don’t say?” he asked timidly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking at him. “And from the color of your face, I’d say her feelings aren’t
entirely unreciprocated.”

“I...I, er....I’m going to see how the elves are coming along with the Great Hall,” Remus said
quickly and exited the room.

“They’re smitten for each other,” George said with a smile.

“Yeah, but Remus doesn’t want to admit it,” Harry said. “What with Rose and all.”

“Any luck on the vows?” Ron asked, floating over to where Harry was sitting.

“None,” he replied with a sigh, putting the quill down. “I’ve told her I love her so many times in
so many different ways...I don’t know how to say it again.”

“Who says you have to tell her you love her?” Ron asked. Harry crooked his eyebrow at him.

“It’s a wedding vow, Ron,” he said. “I can’t very well *not* tell her I love her.”

“So finish with that,” Ron suggested. “It is a vow, so you have to promise something to her.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said, thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you just tell her what she means to you?” George asked. “I mean, I’m sure you could
write a book on the subject.”

“You know,” Harry said. “That’s not a half bad idea.”

“I know it’s not,” George said. “I thought of it.”

“Come on chaps, time to get moving,” Remus’ voice shouted through the door. “It’s time.”

“You ready, Harry?” Ron asked, as the twins got to their feet along with Harry and walked to the
door.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied as they started walking down the hall. “I think.”

“You know, Harry, James was in a right state before his wedding with Lily,” Remus said with a
smile.

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Oh yeah,” Remus replied. “Never seen a man more nervous in my life. Not even more nervous than you
were before Hogsmeade in sixth year.”

“How’d he get over it?” Harry asked.

“It all faded away the moment he saw Lily walking down the aisle,” Remus said with a grin. “All the
fear just melted away from him, and got replaced by the largest dung-eating grin you ever
saw.”

“If I’m smiling like that, kick me or something,” Harry chuckled.

“We’ll be kicking you a lot then, because you won’t be able to wipe the smile off your face,” Remus
said as they reached the Great Hall.

When Dumbledore had asked him what he wanted the hall to look like, Harry had contacted Hermione
through their link and asked her if she had any preferences. In the end, he had just said that
Dumbledore should have the elves decorate it as they wished, all that he and Hermione really cared
about was the ‘getting married’ part. Once again, the house-elves (whom Harry suspected had been
led by Dobby) had outdone themselves again.

The four house tables had disappeared and been replaced with many rows of white chairs. There was a
crimson red carpet that led up to the head table, which had been turned into an altar. A beautiful
ivory arbor was standing in front of it, adorned with white and pink roses that also covered the
walls all the way up to the ceiling where there were almost a hundred doves perched on the rafters
(Harry sincerely hoped there was some form of invisible barrier to prevent any of the guests from
getting unwanted gifts from the birds).

“Wow,” Harry breathed as he and his four groomsmen walked up towards the arbor.

“That’s an understatement,” Ron said, awed by the surroundings.

“Congratulations, Harry,” Dumbledore said to him as they reached the head table. He was dressed in
a white cloak as was wearing something that reminded Harry of a bishop’s hat.

“Are you performing the ceremony today, Albus?” he asked.

“Normally a ministry official would lead the proceedings,” Dumbledore replied. “But seeing as how
there was a bit of...mayhem yesterday, they are all tied up at the moment, and so yes, I will be
performing the ceremony today. Being the head of the Wizengamot has its advantages, after
all.”

“Thank you,” Harry said in a hushed voice as wedding music (Harry had no idea from where it came)
started echoing through the hall.

The first bridesmaid through the doors was Hermione’s mother, which didn’t come as a surprise to
Harry. She smiled warmly at him as she took her place by the head table. Next was Tonks, who also
gave all the groomsmen a smile (though Harry thought she perhaps held Remus’ gaze a little longer
than the others) before taking her place next to Emma. Ginny was next, and at this point Harry felt
himself draw a breath as now there was no one left until Hermione.

“Relax,” Remus whispered in his ear. “Trust me, just wait until you see her.”

The doors opened again, and Harry made a mental note to let Remus know later that he was
right.

Hermione was wearing an ivory a-line spaghetti strap dress that flowed just slightly out behind
her. A three-tier cathedral veil sat elegantly on the top of her head, and she was holding a small
bouquet of pink roses. Harry was watching her so intently that he barely noticed when she arrived
at the arbor and her father (with whom she had entered arm in arm) kissed her on the cheek before
taking a seat in the front row.

“Hi,” Hermione said softly as she took Harry’s hands in hers.

“Wow,” was the only response he could make, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Friends,” Dumbledore began. “We are gathered here today......”

Harry didn’t hear what Dumbledore was saying anymore. He was too amazed by the angel that was
standing in front of him, smiling like she had just won the world as a door prize.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” he asked, turning to Dumbledore.

“I was asking you if you would read your vows to her now,” the headmaster said with a smile.

“Oh, oh right. Sorry,” Harry said with a guilty smile. “Well, erm...to be honest I have nothing
written down. Not because I couldn’t think of anything, but because what I feel for you is beyond
words, Hermione.” Hermione’s smile widened at this. “So I think it’s best to start from the
beginning. I lived too many years of my life with the Dursleys. They spent so much time making me
feel unwanted and unloved, that I began to believe it myself.” A tear rolled down Hermione’s cheek
when she heard this. “After Sirius died, you begged me to talk to you, to let me help you, but I
pushed you away. For that, I’m deeply sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she mouthed. Harry smiled at her in response.

“Then, news of what might be our impending deaths rolled around, and you confessed your love for
me,” he continued. “I think at that point, I was either too stupid or too stunned to admit that I
felt the exact same way. Probably a little bit of both.” This got a small chuckle from the crowd.
“But a few good friends of mine helped me realise that I was being a prat. So I did the smartest
thing I’ve ever done, and admitted that I loved you too. I’ve said it before, but I think that I
probably loved you from the moment I saw you looking for a toad on the Hogwarts Express all those
years ago. You’ve helped me through so much since we first became friends, even more so in the past
year and a half. I have no doubt that I would be dead right now if it wasn’t for you, Hermione. You
have shown me how to love, and how to be loved, and I will forever be in your debt for that. I
promise to you, that as long as I live, if there is something that will make you happy, I will do
it. I love you.”

There was a moment after Harry finished where he swore that Tonks had taken out a handkerchief and
blown her nose on it. Tears were now quite visible on Hermione’s face, and Harry reached up a hand
to brush them away, only to have her bring her own hand up and press his against her cheek.

“Hermione, could you read your vows now?” Dumbledore asked with a gentle smile. Emma handed her a
small piece of parchment, which Hermione took, albeit hesitantly.

“You know,” she said shakily. “I had everything I wanted to say written down. But after hearing
that...” Hermione ripped the parchment in two. “To simply say it, I don’t know what I’d do without
you, Harry. There were times when we were younger that I would end up pushing myself away from you
and Ron just to keep you safe. I cried myself to sleep every night during the incident in our third
year with your Firebolt, until the day it came back and you forgave me. It nearly killed me when I
thought you never were going to speak to me again. Then in sixth year, when you said you couldn’t
love me back...I just wanted to run away. But I knew I couldn’t. Because I knew you still needed
me, even if you couldn’t love me the way I wanted you to. You have no idea how happy I am that I
stayed. You say you live for me, I say you keep me alive. I think I would die if you disappeared
from my life somehow. Therefore I also promise, that if you ever wish me to do something just to
put a smile on your face, I’ll do it. I love you.”

Harry was then forced to blink several times to keep his own tears from spilling.

“Harry, do you take Hermione to be your beloved wife? Do you promise to be a tender, faithful
husband? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer for
poorer, for better for worse, from this day forward?

“I do,” Harry said, smiling.

“And do you, Hermione, take Harry to be your beloved husband? Do you promise to be a tender,
faithful wife? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for
richer for poorer, for better for worse, from this day forward?”

“I do,” Hermione replied, beaming.

“Now that that is settled,” Dumbledore said. “If there is anyone who believes that these two should
not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” Harry closed his eyes and prayed that the room
would stay silent, which thankfully, it did. “Do you have the rings, Harry?”

“Erm...”

But Harry was not able to finish his thought for at that moment there was a crack and Dobby
appeared next to them, holding up a small velvet box.

“Thank you, Dobby,” Harry said. The elf gave him and Hermione a beaming smile before disappearing
with another loud crack. He opened the box and took out his parents’ wedding rings, and gave the
larger one to Hermione.

“Place the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand,” Dumbledore instructed. Harry smiled as he
slid the ring on her finger. “Hermione.” She also beamed as she slipped the ring on Harry’s hand.
“Harry and Hermione, having witnessed your vows for marriage with all who are assembled here, and
by the authority vested in me by the Wizengamot, I pronounce that you are husband and wife. Harry,
you may kiss the bride.”

Hermione could wait no longer, she dropped the flowers and leapt into Harry’s arms, crushing her
lips to his as the entire assembly broke out in applause.

‘I love you,’ Harry said silently, not breaking the kiss.

‘I love you too,’ Hermione replied. ‘So much.’

Although the reception was to be held in the Great Hall as well, the traditions were still held in
place, and Harry and Hermione walked down the aisle arm in arm to tumultuous applause, before
exiting the hall and re-entering to find that it had already been reconfigured into many smaller
tables with candles on each.

“The newlyweds!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed over the crowd as Harry and Hermione waved to the
various people. “Let us celebrate with feasting and then dancing!”

The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Harry. There were probably a hundred people present,
who all came over at some point in time during the day to congratulate him and Hermione. On more
than one occasion, Harry pointed over to Remus and Tonks who were dancing in the middle of the
floor, looking for all intents and purposes as if they were the only ones in the world.

“I’m happy for him,” Harry said. “I’m surprised he got over Rose so quickly.”

“He wasn’t in love with her, obviously,” Hermione said. “Tonks will be great for him.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied.

The reception started to die down just as the sun was setting. People had started saying their
goodbyes, and house-elves could now be seen every now and then tidying up. Professor McGonagal had
just finished saying her farewells when Ron floated over.

“Enjoyed the day?” he asked with a smile.

“Couldn’t be any better,” Harry said.

“Well I don’t want to dampen it, but I’d like to talk to you two about something,” Ron said. “In
private, if possible.”

“Okay,” Harry and Hermione said at the same time, standing up. They followed Ron out onto the
grounds which were unseasonably warm for late autumn.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Ron said with a sigh, not facing them. “Voldemort’s gone.”

“It’s time for you to go home, isn’t it?” Hermione asked with a sad smile. The ghost turned around
in air and there was a tear running down his cheek. “What about your family?”

“I already said my goodbyes to them before I came to see you two,” Ron said. “I care about you two
as much as any friend ever could. But seeing all of this...what I should’ve had with Luna...”

“It’s okay, Ron,” Harry said. “You don’t need to say it.”

“I’m going to miss you guys,” Ron said, sniffling.

“We’ll miss you too, Ron,” Hermione replied, wiping her eyes.

The three of them stood there for a moment before coming together in a hug, even though Harry’s and
Hermione’s arms passed right through Ron’s body.

“Look after Ginny for me, will you?” he asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied. “Tell Luna hi for us.”

“Sure,” Ron said, taking a deep breath. “Goodbye you guys.”

“Goodbye, Ron.”

There was a slight breeze as Ron closed his eyes, and a moment later his ghostly form disappeared,
scattered by the autumn wind. Harry pulled Hermione close to his body as she sobbed lightly,
grieving for the life of their best friend for a second time. A few moments later they composed
themselves and stared into each other’s eyes.

“Well,” Harry said, taking a breath. “We have a reception to get back to.”

“Yeah,” Hermione replied. “We do.”

“He’ll always be with us,” Harry said, looking at the dying sun. “Just like my parents, and Sirius,
and Luna.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go home.”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. “Home to our new beginning.”

=====

*One Year Later*

Harry stood in the backyard of the Burrow, staring at the single headstone that marked the grave of
both Ron and Luna. Smiling, he knelt down in front of it and placed his hand on the earth.

“How are you two doing?” he asked the wind. “I wonder if you’re off gallivanting all over the
cosmos looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Seems like something the two of you would enjoy doing.
I’ve been meaning to do something for a while now, and now that I’m here, I think you’ll like it.”
Harry reached for the sheath at his belt and drew the sword of Gryffindor from it. “I know I
already gave you Voldemort’s wand, Ron, but I thought you might like this too.” He placed the sword
on the earth in front of the headstone, the point facing him, and muttered a powerful protection
charm on it. “I hope that it can guide you in the next life, the way it guided me so many times in
this one.”

Harry stood up and turned around to see Hermione standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Walking
over to her, he kissed her lightly and rested his hand on the graceful swell of her belly that held
their unborn son.

“All set?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking at the grave one last time. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

=====

*Epilogue*

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon decided to move to Australia for peace and quiet a year after the
defeat of Voldemort. Harry never heard from either of them (or Dudley) again.

Albus Dumbledore died in his sleep peacefully of old age six years after Voldemort’s defeat. At his
funeral he was granted High Order of Merlin, the first inductee into a category created solely for
him. As per his will, he was laid to rest in the Gryffindor ancestral burial grounds. The lone
phrase on his headstone was ‘*To the next great adventure.*’

Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy were both buried a week after the Potters’ wedding with Order of
Merlin First Class, and heroic achievement awards. Ginny Weasley was present at the funeral, along
with Harry and Hermione.

Narcissa Malfoy (having been captured in the final battle) and Rose McClellan were sentenced to
life in Azkaban under the guard of humans instead of dementors. Both became afflicted with insanity
three years in, and committed suicide four years later.

Peter Pettigrew was memorialised at a criminals’ cemetery even though no remains of his body were
ever found. Harry and Hermione Potter were the only ones present at his funeral.

Ginny Weasley went on to live a normal life, eventually becoming the chief editor of Witch Weekly,
and marrying (surprisingly) Neville Longbottom. They had three children together.

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks were married two years after Harry and Hermione’s wedding, and
they also had three children of their own, named Harry, Sirius, and Andy (short for Andromeda,
Tonks’ mother) respectively.

Harry and Hermione Potter had two children, one by the name of James Ronald Potter, the other Lily
Emma Potter. Neither Harry nor Hermione pursued a career in the auror field after the defeat of
Voldemort, both having had their fill of dark wizards to last a lifetime. Hermione took up teaching
Transfiguration when McGonagal assumed the position of headmistress, whereas Harry, after talking
it over with Hermione, took up the sport of quidditch again. He signed as the seeker for the
Chudley Cannons as a tribute to Ron, and led them to six league championships, along with leading
the English national team to two world cups.

At the age of sixty, Harry retired from the sport and began teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts
at Hogwarts, only to take the position of headmaster when Hermione refused it five years
later.

Harry and Hermione Potter died together at the age of 152, on the same night. Upon arriving on the
other side, they were greeted by Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood, before being escorted to be
reunited with their families.

The death of Harry and Hermione Potter inflicted the most sadness upon the wizarding world since
Dumbledore’s passing. Over 20,000 people gathered at the memorial service, where Hermione was
buried with Order of Merlin, First Class, and Harry was buried with High Order, the only other
person who would ever receive such an award. Their headstone read:

*Finally, they shall rest in peace together, for all eternity.*

And so they did.

*THE END*

---------------

My wonderful readers, it is done. I first started this trilogy on May 12th, 2004. Nearly a year
later, it is complete. There is simply so much I would like to say here, but I don’t really know
where to begin. I’ll start by thanking everyone who has ever reviewed, you were all wonderful. I’d
like to thank everyone who voted for me in the Reader’s Choice Awards back in January, I’d like to
thank my computer for never once crashing on me while I was writing, my mother and father for
betaing, my muse for never leaving me, J.K. Rowling for creating this wonderful world...the list is
endless.

Like I’ve already said, my next work will be called Fawkes’ Gift, and the first chapter will be
posted on April 29th. It is now 3 AM, and time for me to sleep, so until next time, may all your
ships be fluffy, and all your ships sail true (unless you ship R/Hr, of course ::wink::).

Yours truly, from the H.M.S. Pumpkin Pie,
– Greg S.
aka TGF2K