Harry Potter and the Curse of Atlantis

Author's Note—This story is a sequel to Harry Potter and the Time Turner, which was set in Harry's sixth year. This story is set in his seventh year, following the defeat of Voldemort. Obviously, this story will make much more sense if you've read the previous story.

Following the defeat of Voldemort, Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the wizarding world rejoiced in hope of a better future. However, their peace is soon threatened by old foes, new enemies, and the race to recover a powerful weapon from the nearly forgotten age of Atlantis. But who would be interested in an artifact which, according to myth, gave its wielder power over life and death? Harry and Hermione must find out who is looking for it and beat them to the artifact if they hope to prevent the curse of Atlantis from destroying their world. This story is a sequel to H.P. and the Time Turner.

This page is a general disclaimer for all of the chapters that follow.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor any of the characters in this story, they are the property of J. K. Rowling.

I still appreciate comments or reviews, those I received on my earlier story were very helpful and often very motivational, as well. I hope that everyone who reads this new story enjoys it, especially all those who read and offered comments on my earlier story.

Ch 1: A Missing Hero

At number four, Privet Drive, the tranquility of the beautiful Sunday morning was broken by another loud, rather vulgar oath. “There can't be this many bloody owls in the entire world Petunia! But they all seem to be finding their way here. When I get my hands on that scrawny boy, I swear I'll wring his worthless neck!”

Indeed, both the front lawn and the backyard of the Dursley's were covered with owls jostling for position. The trees for nearly a block around were filled with all sizes, shapes, and colors of owls, with a few other breeds of birds as well. The one thing they all had in common was the item they all carried, either a tightly rolled scroll or a very small package with the name Harry Potter written on the outside.

Inside the house, all three Dursleys were simply hurling the pieces of mail as fast as they hit the table or floor into the roaring fireplace. If they had been watching closely, they would have noticed that none of the scrolls actually burned in the fire, but disappeared as soon as they were tossed into the flames. But none of the Dursleys were particularly observant or curious about the letters. They were simply furious.

Their summer had been terrible so far. In May, they had thought it was going to be the best summer ever, when they received a letter from Harry telling them that he would not be coming home for the summer. But then a few days later, the owls bringing letters and scrolls and packages addressed to Harry had begun. And instead of decreasing in numbers, the flocks of owls had only grown larger as the days of June passed one by one.

They had already received numerous complaints from their neighbors, most of whom were no longer talking to them. They had received visits from the Health Department and the Wildlife Preservation Agency, several natural resource and conservation societies, and staff from the various British zoos. And the reporters never stopped harassing them. Now bird watchers from around the country were flocking to their street to watch all the birds that seemed so interested in the Dursley's home. They were the center of attention in Little Whinging, Surrey, but for all the wrong reasons.

-----

As the morning sun rose, it became readily apparent that it was going to be a beautiful day. Outside the solid walls of Hogwarts, the warm June morning felt pleasant to the bustling wizards and witches as they streamed across the grounds, heading towards the castle doors. Many stopped to pause and look at the black, circular scars radiating from the front doors of the school that still marked the turf from the battle at Hogwarts weeks earlier. Where the magical fire had burnt away the Dementors and resisting Death Eaters, the very ground remained dead and charred a deep black while in contrast the green grass and bushes everywhere else seemed even more vibrant than ever.

Inside the castle, Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled merrily as he looked around the Great Hall at the milling crowd. The hall had been greatly expanded in order to provide sufficient space for the hundreds of ministry officials and reporters from around the world who had insisted upon attending the award ceremony. The slight scowls and frowns on the faces of most of the faculty and members of the Order he saw around the room made it difficult for him to continue hiding his growing smile. Minerva McGonagall leaned over and whispered to Dumbledore, “Where is Harry? I haven't seen him anywhere. There's Ron Weasley with his family, but where is Hermione Granger? Surely she wouldn't miss this?” Dumbledore just smiled but said nothing.

Minister Fudge, as usual, seemed extremely cheerful as he gesticulated wildly with both arms in front of a throng of reporters, whose quills were scribbling madly as he droned on and on. Finally, with a huge satisfied grin on his face, Fudge looked around the head table and moved closer to Dumbledore.

“Truly a memorable day in the history of the wizarding world, wouldn't you agree Dumbledore? Harry Potter, the powerful young wizard I have often thought of as fondly as I would my own son, to be the youngest wizard ever to receive the Order of Merlin, First Class. Simply amazing. Even beat you by a few years, eh Dumbledore?”

“Yes of course, Minister Fudge,” smiled Dumbledore.

As Fudge continued to look around the room, appearing extremely pleased with himself, a sudden thought struck him.

“It's nearly ten o'clock, Dumbledore. If he waits much longer, young Harry is going to be late. As it is, I'm astonished that he's not here yet. You haven't seen him this morning, have you?”

“No Minister Fudge, I have not.” With that, Dumbledore leaned back in his seat and continued watching the crowd with amusement.

Five minutes after ten, a somewhat flustered Minister of Magic came to speak with Dumbledore again. “Are you sure you haven't seen him, Dumbledore? Where on earth could the boy be? Doesn't he realize how important this ceremony is? Does he know how many people have traveled from around the world to share in our triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“Are you referring to the defeat of Voldemort, Minister Fudge?”

“You know I am, Dumbledore.”

“Then do not be afraid to use his name. He has been defeated after all.”

“I know that Dumbledore. And I am not afraid.” With that, the Minister of Magic stalked off angrily.

Half an hour later, there was a loud buzzing throughout the room as the hundreds of people gathered for the ceremony speculated openly about why the guest of honor had not appeared yet. A livid Minister of Magic was alternating between pacing back and forth by the front table and snapping at various aides who kept appearing and disappearing from the room.

“Minister Fudge. Do you have any idea when Mr. Potter will be showing up today? Will he be coming to the award ceremony today?” asked one of the milling reporters.

“We are confident he will be appearing shortly,” replied Fudge.

“How do you know, sir? Have you spoken with him? What did he say?” asked another reporter. Amidst the various questions being asked of the minister, one from the back caught everyone's attention. “Has some sort of problem come up?” There was a gasp throughout the room.

“We do not foresee any problems that young Mr. Potter could not handle himself.” People throughout the crowd chuckled at his answer.

“Does that mean there is not a problem, or that you are unaware of a possible problem Minister?” followed up another reporter.

“There is no problem.” Fudge began to look a bit uncomfortable with the continued questioning but managed to hide it fairly well.

“When was the last time you spoke with Mr. Potter?”

“Well, I spoke personally with Mr. Potter several weeks ago, several days after the battle. Obviously, I have been very busy since directing…”

“You haven't spoken with Mr. Potter in over four weeks?” Gasps of astonishment were heard throughout the room. “How would you characterize your relationship with Mr. Potter?”

“I would say we have a very good relationship. I believe he feels he can trust me with anything and I've made it perfectly clear that he can talk to me any time he wishes. I owled him several reminders about the award ceremony last week and I'm sure he will be here momentarily.”

“You owled him about the highest award the magical world can bestow on a wizard? You didn't invite him personally? How did Mr. Potter respond to these messages?” Loud whispers could be heard throughout the hall.

Fudge looked stumped for a minute. “Well, err, I'm sure he has been very busy…”

“Has he responded at all to any of the Ministry's messages? Has anyone from the Ministry been in contact with Mr. Potter recently? Speaking on behalf of my paper, I can assure you that all of our attempted communications with Mr. Potter have been ignored. Has anyone at all been in touch with Mr. Potter recently?” The crowd exploded with a dull roar as reporters shared notes and quickly discovered that nobody from the press had received any kind of a response from Mr. Potter.

“Does the Ministry even know if he's still alive? We know there are still searches for remaining allies of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Is it possible that there has been some sort of attack on Mr. Potter by one of these yet unapprehended Dark wizards?”

“Please, everyone calm down. I'm sure there is no need to worry. Mr. Potter is very capable of…” Fudge looked increasingly frustrated as he tried to speak over the growing murmurs in the crowd. Dumbledore, hiding his smile, stood up the front table and raised his arms waiting for the hall to quiet down.

“I assure you, young Mr. Potter is perfectly fine.” Before the crowd could erupt again, Dumbledore raised a palm to the crowd. “Harry has in fact, been keeping in touch with the Ministry of Magic.”

The crowd exploded in commotion and Fudge turned to glare at Dumbledore. “I believe Arthur Weasley may be able to provide some of the information many of you desire. Please come forward Arthur.” There was a dull roar as the crowd spoke amongst themselves while the tall, thin red-haired man made his way from the side of the table to the center by Dumbledore. Mr. Weasley looked somewhat confused and in shock at all of the attention being focused upon him. Fudge glared at him with intense anger.

“I'm not sure exactly what Headmaster Dumbledore meant to imply, but…”

“Do you know where Mr. Potter is? Have you been in contact with him? What is your relationship to Mr. Potter?”

“Well, Mr. Potter is good friends with my son Ron and several other members of my family. Ron and Harry are in the same class and house at Hogwarts. We have received several messages from him while he has been on vacation. He seems to be very happy and doing well…”

“Where is he vacationing? Where is he now? Is he coming to the award ceremony and if not, why not?”

“I am not at liberty to say where he is vacationing. He wished to remain undisturbed. I am not sure if he is coming to the ceremony or the reason for his absence.”

Nearly purple with rage, Fudge stalked over to Arthur Weasley and demanded, “Why didn't you tell me about this? Why didn't you inform the Ministry of your communications with Mr. Potter?”

Arthur glared back and replied, “My communications with Harry were personal and private, not related to my position within the Ministry. I saw no need to inform anyone at the Ministry about them nor has anyone at the Ministry been asked to do so. Besides, the impression we had at the Ministry was that you were in constant contact with him and that everything was fine.” One of the veins in Fudge's neck began pounding almost as if it were going to burst.

More questions and comments came from the assembled crowd. “Why isn't Mr. Potter coming to the ceremony? Doesn't he realize the effort and preparation that has gone into this ceremony? How could he be so disrespectful of the wizarding world and the representatives gathered here to honor him? How could he be so immature as to disappear without notification? Didn't he understand the responsibility he owed to the wizarding world?”

As the muttered comments continued, the look on Arthur's face turned from puzzlement to surprise to one of growing anger. As his face turned nearly as red as the hair on top of his head, Arthur Weasley rounded on the reporters. “That is enough!” he thundered. The hall was immediately silent. “Disrespectful? Immature? Irresponsible? Is this how you describe the wizard who just saved the entire world from the horror and terror of Lord Voldemort and his army?” Most everyone in the crowd flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name but continued to listen quietly as Arthur continued. “I think those phrases better describe those members of this audience who slandered Mr. Potter last year in their sleazy tabloids and contemptible editorials. It hasn't been a year since many of you thought he was an egotistical, fame-seeking delusional danger to the world. And you dare call him disrespectful, immature, or irresponsible? How dare you? HOW DARE YOU! All of you, all of us, pinned our hopes on the shoulders of this young man, who is not even seventeen years old yet. We expected this boy to save us from the darkest wizard our world has seen in centuries and he's not even allowed to legally use magic outside of Hogwarts yet. He met and defeated Voldemort six times, once while an infant and the rest while a student at Hogwarts. His whole life up until now has had one focus—defeat Voldemort and save the world. Is there anyone here tonight who could have done what he has accomplished under the incredible pressure he has survived with the same amount of courage and grace and strength? Is there? For over sixteen years, this young man has shouldered the heaviest burden one can imagine, having lost most of his family and many of those dearest to him, afraid of losing still more close friends, knowing that if he was defeated the entire world would fall into shadow and despair beneath the heel of a merciless tyrant.

And you dare to complain because he wants to take a vacation? Because he doesn't want to be bothered for a few weeks? Hasn't Harry Potter done enough for all of us? What more do you expect from him? What more do you want?” Arthur Weasley glared around the silent room, listening in shock and shame to his impassioned speech. Not a sound could be heard, until a chair scraped and someone's footsteps could be heard. The crowd turned to watch as a slightly slimmer version of the older Weasley walked forward to his father. Arthur looked in confusion as Ron approached. “Uhh, Dad, I think Harry would have wanted you to read this about now.” Ron handed him a sealed scroll and after looking around to see everyone's eyes riveted on him, returned to his seat.

Arthur broke the seal, unrolled the scroll, and as he read the first few lines his eyes widened in surprise. Clearing his throat, he began to speak again. “Dear witches and wizards of the magical world, it is with the deepest regret that I must refuse the honor you wish to bestow upon me. Though I deeply appreciate the sentiment and gratitude that led you to award me with the Order of Merlin First Class, I cannot accept it. I consider myself very fortunate to have survived my various encounters with Voldemort. Though I survived several of his attacks, I did not defeat him by myself. Voldemort would never have been defeated without Hermione Granger or Ronald Weasley. He would never have been destroyed without the sixth and seventh year students of Hogwarts, the Hogwarts faculty, the Order of the Phoenix, or the Aurors from the Ministry. None of us would have survived the final battle without the aid of the magical creatures who stood by us in our fight, the house-elves, the wild elves, the dwarves, the centaurs, the unicorns, the tree sprites, the merpeople, the hippogriffs, the thestrals, and the dragons. If you truly wish to honor those who stood up to Voldemort and helped bring about his downfall, honor those who gave the ultimate sacrifice. Honor the memories of James and Lily Potter and the countless others who gave their lives trying to prevent the rise of Voldemort. Remember those, like Sirius Black who was falsely accused and wrongly imprisoned in Azkaban, who fell trying to prevent his return. Never forget those who fell at the Battle of Hogwarts or during the final battle with Voldemort. Some of the greatest wizards and witches of our time, as well as younger ones with great potential, gave their lives so that the rest of us who survived could live in peace and joy. They are the ones who deserve our thanks and gratitude, not some young wizard who by sheer luck happened to remember how to cast a Summoning spell. The honor belongs to them, not to me. Yours sincerely, Harry James Potter.”

There was a moment of silence until Dumbledore rose from his chair and slowly began clapping. The Great Hall then burst into applause as Dumbledore looked over the crowd with great pleasure and pride.

-----

“Humble Hero Rejects Wizarding World's Highest Award,” read the headlines of the Daily Prophet. Similar headlines framed other important wizarding papers around the world. At the bottom of most of the British papers, but still on the front page, ran a number of articles very critical of Cornelius Fudge and his behavior as Minister of Magic. Many of them poked fun at the attempt he had made to appear close to Harry Potter, when in fact it seemed like Mr. Potter barely communicated with him. Several reminded readers of how Fudge and the Ministry had been very critical of both Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore the summer before. Some observed how the refusal of Fudge and the Ministry of Magic to believe their account of the return of Voldemort delayed defensive preparations and undermined the safety of the magical world. A few even criticized Fudge for not using the portkey to fight in the final battle when many other witches and wizards like Arthur Weasley, who were not specifically trained as Aurors, did go and fight.

Speculation ran rampant about where Harry Potter was vacationing and over the next week, Harry Potter sightings popped up all over the world. A few papers speculated that Harry Potter had been captured or killed by former allies of Voldemort and that this was just the latest in a number of cover ups by the Ministry of Magic. The Weekly Wizard ran a special series of detailed reports on Arthur Weasley and his family's connections to Harry Potter as well as Arthur's involvement in the final battle against Voldemort. Ginny's was the most informative to the general public. Ron's was the shortest, but his interviews with other papers were much longer, though they tended to focus less on Harry's accomplishments and more on Ron's contributions. The interview with the Weasley twins was the most humorous, and by far the most popular. Sales at their store doubled after the second reprint of their interview and catalog orders for their products went through the roof.

It wasn't until the second week when reporters began trying to track down Hermione Granger, the third member of the incredible trio, and were unable to find her that concern for the whereabouts of both her and Harry Potter began to increase. Speculation ranged from a double kidnapping by surviving Death Eaters to wild claims that they had eloped and were now honeymooning in the foothills of Mongolia. Few of the guesses were even remotely close to the truth, the truth which Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley had already explained.

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Ch 2: Summer Vacation

It was still dark when he awoke. There was a terrible buzzing in his head that he struggled to ignore. The sun had not yet appeared on the horizon, but there was enough light in the room for him to realize this wasn't his bedroom. In a slight panic, he thought maybe he had been captured by Death Eaters and leaped from his bed. He wished he hadn't moved so quickly since it took a moment for the room to stop spinning. Then he realized he wasn't chained down, he had been sleeping in a comfortable bed, and he had on a pair of comfortable pajamas, though the top seemed to be on backwards. Most importantly, he did not feel like he had been beaten nearly to death. He doubted any of those would have been true if he were a prisoner somewhere.

His mind raced through other possibilities. There were no snores from his fellow Gryffindor roommates, so he wasn't at Hogwarts. The mattress wasn't lumpy and there was no strong smell of disinfectant spells, two telltale signs of the school infirmary. “At least I'm not hurt,” he thought to himself wryly. “Except for that throbbing ache in the back of my brain.” There were no Chudley Cannon posters covering the walls or that warm, homelike feeling he always found at the Burrow. He couldn't hear Dudley's buzz saw snores through the walls nor feel the cold draft that came through the window seals around his bedroom window at Privet Drive. So where on earth was he?

Glancing quickly around the room, he noticed a small desk with a telephone and a chair near the bed, a television on the far wall, two closed doors, one with several towels on a nearby shelf, and a sliding glass door. He decided a little exploration might help him orient himself.

Opening the far door, he stepped out and saw only a dimly lit hallway with several other doors. He closed the door and tried the other door. It opened into a bathroom where he recognized one of his shirts and a pair of his trousers. As he turned around he saw something hanging from the curtain rod. It looked like someone had peeled the skin from a human pair of legs. And it was still dripping! Horrified, he watched as another drop fell and splattered on the floor. But it wasn't red, it was clear. It was only water!

Disgusted, he turned and saw something else hanging from the rod. For a moment he thought it was some sort of a noose, but upon closer inspection realized it was a very oddly cut piece of stretchy fabric. Curious, he pulled it off the bar and looked at it closely, trying to figure out what its purpose might be. As he twisted and turned the straps, puzzling over the piece of clothing, his eyes happened to notice a blue skirt and a light grey blouse in the corner. His eyes widened as he realized what he was holding and he threw it across the room where it hit the door with a soft thud and slid to the floor. Stumbling, he bolted from the bathroom, hastily locking the door as he left.

His mind whirling, he stumbled across the room towards the glass door, hoping that going outside for a moment might help him clear his head and think more coherently. He jerked the door open and stepped out on a small balcony where he could see dim shapes of buildings crowded all around him over a narrow street.

The early morning air, cool and brisk on his face, seemed to promise a day of perfect weather. Letting the wind softly ruffle his messy mop of black hair, he closed his eyes and let his other senses tell him of the events swirling around him. With his eyes closed, the pain in his head seemed to recede slightly, though he kept a tight grip on the railing. A brief hint of salt from the sea lay beneath a variety of other smells as shopkeepers and street sellers began setting up their displays of clothing, spices, and fresh vegetables and fish. The buzz of a thousand conversations competed with bicycle bells and car horns as traffic began to pick up. As he tried to pick up pieces of conversation, he realized he couldn't understand a word that was being said. Nobody was speaking in English.

Fighting down panic, he tried to put together the clues he had discovered so far. Apparently he was in a hotel in a foreign country and there was some naked, invisible girl hiding in his room somewhere who had blindsided him with a rogue bludger. But that didn't make any sense at all! What the hell was going on? He needed to find out. But how?

“Harry!”

Whirling around, his eyes searching the shadows, he raised his right hand instinctively and summoned his wand without thinking. “Who are you? What do you want? Show yourself! No don't!” he demanded.

“Harry, calm down.” He could tell the voice he heard inside his head seemed amused. “It's me, Hermione. Just go unlock the door and…”

“Hermione! Are you OK? What door! Where have they taken you! I'll come rescue you! Where are you?”

“Harry, I'm fine. Nobody's taken me and I definitely don't need you to come and rescue me. Just unlock the bathroom door.”

Still confused, Harry returned to the bathroom door and opened it to reveal a widely smiling Hermione Granger clad in a warm bathrobe.

“Why didn't you just open the door with a spell? Have you lost your magical power? Are you sure you're OK?” asked Harry with great concern.

“For the last time, Harry, I'm perfectly fine. And put that wand down. Neither of us is seventeen yet. We can still get into trouble for casting spells outside of school. Though there probably aren't any detection wards around here.” She leaned forward to give him a good morning kiss and then pulled away quickly, with a look of disgust on her face. “Harry James Potter! You're DRUNK!!!”

Harry backed up a step, dropping his wand and clasping both hands to the sides of his head. “I am NOT DRUNK!!! OWWWwwww my head.”

“I can smell it on your breath…”

“Can you please talk more softly, Mione? My head feels like it's about to split right open any second now. I am not drunk, I just have a really, really bad headache. It must be my scar. I must have had another dream sent by Voldemort. Uhh, by the way…where are we Mione? What are we doing here? What's going on?”

“Harry, you defeated Voldemort. He's dead. He is not sending you any dreams or making your scar ache. We are on vacation with my parents in Greece. Don't you remember?”

“Everything seems a little fuzzy right now, Mione.”

“Why don't you go sit down on the bed for a minute.”

Harry sat and the trolls who were happily hammering away inside his skull decided to take a short break for tea. “Mione, how on earth would I have gotten drunk last night?”

“Well, my dad insisted on taking you out after we all had dinner last night. He said something about wanting to get to know you a little better. I cannot believe he let you get drunk. In fact, I can't believe he bought you drinks. What on earth was he thinking? In fact, I think I'll go over right now and…”

“Hermione, there is no way on earth I would be stupid enough to get drunk while having a one-on-one chat with your dad. I doubt he would have bought me a drink in the first place.”

“Well, I guess I'll know in a minute then. As for you, that's the last time you ever drink anything stronger than butterbeer, Harry Potter.”

Harry just muttered a reply but then a rather frightening thought occurred to him. “Uhh, Mione. Umm, did anything happen between us last night?”

“What do you mean, Harry?”

“I mean, I found all of your stuff, at least I guess it's your stuff, I mean I'm sure it's your stuff, at least I'm sure it's not anybody else's stuff and it's not my stuff. Anyways, there's a bunch of girl stuff in my bathroom. And, uhh…”

Fixing Harry with a cool stare that caused Harry to wonder what on earth had forced him to open his mouth just a moment ago Hermione replied, “That is a bathroom between our two rooms that we share Harry. And though I love you more than you can imagine, I assure you that nothing happened between us last night. I'm not that kind of girl, Harry—you should know that. Now I'm going to go speak to my father about last night. I suggest you get some more sleep, Harry. You obviously need it because you're not thinking very clearly.” She then turned and slammed the door behind her.

Harry put his hand to the side of his head. “Way to go, Harry, you absolute prat! Looks like you've made a real mess of things now. I don't envy her father right now.” Harry turned and rolled over on the bed. He laid down and tried to calm himself down enough to sleep for a bit. Just as he got comfortable, the trolls inside his head decided break time was over and returned to work. Apparently they thought jackhammers would be more effective than hammers and cheerfully went back to work as Harry curled into a little ball on the bed.

-----

The door across the hall from Hermione's room was still vibrating from where she had pounded on it for the fifth time. A bleary eyed woman opened the door as Hermione bulled her way through the opening crack. “Where's dad?”

“Shh. Hermione, you'll wake him up. He's still sleeping. Apparently he and Harry had a very good time last night.”

“I'll bet,” grumbled Hermione as she rounded the corner into the bedroom area. She pulled up a chair, sat by the bed, and kicked the lump wrapped up in the blankets.

“Mmphff. Go away, dear. I'm tired and have a terrible headache.”

“It's going to get a lot worse if you don't wake up and give me some answers, Dad.”

“What? Who?” exclaimed the lump as it sat up in bed. “Is that you Pumpkin?”

“Don't try and Pumpkin me, Dad. I want to know what the hell you were doing getting my boyfriend drunk last night. Was it some sort of test or something? Were you…”

“Don't talk to your father like that, Hermione.”

“Mom, did you know about this? Did you know Dad got Harry drunk last night?”

“No dear. I only know that he wanted to talk to Harry by himself.”

“Listen dear, I did not aim to get Harry drunk,” responded her father. “I ordered a glass of wine for myself and what I thought was a soda or something for Harry. But you know my Greek is terrible and the waiter's English was not much better. Judging by the strength of this headache, I imagine they brought both of us wine and it was some pretty strong stuff. I'm sorry dear, really I am. Like your mother said, I just wanted to talk to Harry.”

“But what did you want to know that I haven't already told you?” asked Hermione.

“Well we know from you that the boy is nearly perfect. We just wanted to get to know him better for ourselves.”

“And…” probed Hermione.

“And your father and I like him very much. There's no doubt he cares for you very much. And the two of you act like you've been together forever. It's almost eerie how the two of you interact, as if you could read each other's thoughts. But…”

“But what, Mom?” asked Hermione with a hint of anger in her voice.

“Well, two things. Though Harry acts very nice and seems very pleasant, your father and I are concerned about his upbringing.”

“His what?” Hermione nearly shrieked.

“Let me explain. You told us he was orphaned as a baby and brought up by a very nasty set of relatives. And his school years, from what you have told me, have been very wild and dangerous. You mentioned a godfather who had been in jail and then killed after knowing Harry for only a couple of years. We're just concerned about what kinds of role models he might have had or not had growing up. We are just worried about how he might treat you in the future.”

Through grating teeth, Hermione asked quietly, “And what was your second concern?”

“Well, though Harry seems to be a very nice boy, he does seem to draw quite a bit of trouble. We understand that he, along with friends like you and Ron, have been in danger a number of times over the years. Though you never said very much about it, your father and I could sense there was always more to your stories than you were telling us. For example, last year you came home with those medicines that you had to take. You acted as if everything was alright, and refused to see a doctor, even though I could tell you were in quite a bit of pain for several weeks. You barely left your room while you were home. You told us you had a nasty fall off of a broom.”

“So you think I'm inventing injuries for sympathy and that my boyfriend is some sort of dangerous anti-social thrill-seeking psychopathic lunatic time bomb just waiting to explode. Thanks a lot, guys. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“That's not what your mother said, Pumpkin.”

“She didn't have to, Dad. I'm deeply moved by the depth of your trust in me.”

“If you want to talk about trust, Hermione, we could discuss the reasons why you don't trust us with the whole truth,” snapped her mother. Her father looked sharply at Hermione's mother.

“What are you talking about Mom?” bristled Hermione as she stood up from her chair.

“I'm talking about the two versions of your school years at Hogwarts. There's the version you've told us on your brief visits home, and then there's the truth.”

“WHAT?”

“You remember that after our home was destroyed last fall that we spent most of last year hiding at some wizard's home protected by those two Aurors, right? Well, Tonks was one of the witches and we had plenty of time to chat. It turns out that even though she hasn't known either of you more than a year or two, she knew more about what the two of you have done at Hogwarts than your father and I. And what she didn't know, I was able to read about in some of those magical newspapers. It seems like most of the magical world knows more about what has happened to my daughter over the past six years than her own parents.”

Hermione just stared at her parents with her eyes wide in shock.

Her mother continued. “Why didn't you tell us you had been petrified during your second year? I remember the weeks without letters and thought you were just very busy with your studies. I didn't know how you nearly drowned your fourth year during that silly tournament, or about all those terrible lies and slanders that awful Rita Skeeter made up about you. Then last year when you came home with those potions and that nasty cough you kept trying to hide. You just laid around in your room most of the time. You told us you were just relaxing, but I could tell that you weren't feeling very well, but you wouldn't tell us what happened. Tonks told us you were nearly killed by a bunch of evil wizards while going with Harry to rescue his godfather. You had barely recovered when you went back to school early…for extra classes you told us. Instead, you went back to the headquarters of that secret group of wizards with Tonks and the others again, like you had the summer before.

Then, several weeks ago, Tonks and the other witch disappeared one morning. Some other wizard returned that afternoon, and told us that the evil wizard had been defeated. We could return to our new home that had been rebuilt if we wanted to, we were safe now. And he said that we must be so proud of everything you had done to help Harry Potter defeat the evil wizard. But you know what Hermione? We still don't have a clue about how you helped him. We spent a couple of days at Hogwarts while you and Harry recovered from what we gathered was a huge battle or something, but we never really knew what was going on. After you woke up, you were more concerned about Harry and finishing the school year than filling us in on any details. The only message we got from you after we left was to let us know the day and time we could come to pick you up at the train station, and how excited you were to go on vacation with us this year and would we mind if your friend Harry Potter could come along with us.

So don't you dare come in here complaining about our lack of trust in you. We want to trust both you and Harry, but you have to trust us as well.”

Hermione snapped out of her shock at the last challenge from her mother and moved to the door. Then she spun and spat out, “Don't tell me what I have to do. You don't trust either Harry or me, just because I don't tell you every single detail of my life.”

“Hermione, your mother and I aren't asking to know about every little detail of your life. But if you've been in danger at school or with young Harry, we should know about it. We want to know about it. We are your parents after all. We love you and worry about you.”

“If I've been in danger, it's been my choice. My choice! It's not Harry's fault.”

“Sweetie, we never said it was. We just don't understand why you never told us about all of this. Why didn't you trust us? Did you think we wouldn't understand because we can't do magic? Are you ashamed of us? Why?”

Hermione looked first at her father, then at her mother, then dropped her eyes to the floor. “No, I'm not ashamed of either of you. It's just that…I…I can't talk about this right now. I need some time to think.” And without looking at either of her parents she quickly left the room. She didn't notice the twin looks of worry and concern that followed her out of the room.

-----

Returning to her room, Hermione sat on her bed in shock. Her parents knew! What was she going to do? She always knew that she would eventually have to tell them the truth, but she hadn't thought the time would come so soon. What was she going to do?

Moving to one of her bags, she reached in and extracted a small metal cylinder and moved to the door of the bathroom that she shared with Harry.

“Harry?” she mindspoke softly.

“Owww. Who is this? Hermione?”

“It's your princess in need of rescuing.”

“I thought you didn't need rescuing.”

“I changed my mind. There's something I really need to talk to you about.”

“If you want, though I don't think I'll be much help. I'm really not feeling too good right now.”

“I think I can help with that. I'll be there in a minute.”

Hermione quickly walked through the bathroom and found Harry curled up on his bed, both of his fists digging into his eye sockets. Hermione set down the glass of water she had filled in the bathroom and opened the metal cylinder she had brought from her bedroom. Using the cap, she measured out some of the powder into the glass and swirled the cup.

“Here, drink all of this, Harry.”

Harry took the glass from Hermione and downed the drink in three swallows. A few moments later, he opened his eyes and blinked widely at Hermione.

“That was amazing! I feel so much better. What was that?”

“Just a simple pain-relieving potion, Harry. I'm sure you've taken hundreds of them under Madame Pomfrey's care.” smiled Hermione.

“Well, yeah. But how did you make it so fast?”

“I made it before we left Hogwarts. I thought if you were going on vacation with us, it would come in handy.”

“Very funny. But that didn't taste like one of Pomfrey's potions. It tasted sort of minty—no bad aftertaste. I'll bet you could sell them like aspirin or something.”

“A super aspirin potion, huh?”

“Yeah, you could call it a SAP. You can put me down for a hundred of those potions.”

“It's not really a potion, Harry. Well, it was, but then I made the potion into powder, making it much easier to carry.” Noticing Harry's confused look, Hermione continued. “As you know, healing potions are fairly easy to make, if you have all the ingredients and equipment. And they can be stored and saved for later use, but they slowly lose effectiveness over time. They're most effective just after they have just been created. This powder provides the maximum potency of the healing potions with ease of creation—just add water. I talked with Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape, and with their help I developed this healing powder.” Hermione beamed at Harry.

“You worked with Snape?”

“Well, you did didn't you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it still seems wrong somehow. Gryffindors and Snape.” Harry thought for a minute. “Umm, Hermione. How many times have you used this potion on people?”

“Ahem, yes, well, uhh…Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape were closely monitoring the creation of the powder and they both seemed satisfied…”

“Hermione, has anyone used this potion besides me?”

“Uhh, well, technically, errr…no.” replied Hermione in a quiet voice. “How do you feel?”

“Well, not so good now that I've learned that I'm just a big fat lab rat for your mad science experiments.”

“Ohh, Harry, I'm so sorry! I can't believe I did that. But I thought it would help and I was sure there wouldn't be any side effects…”

“Relax, Hermione. I'm just kidding. I'm just glad you didn't try it on yourself first.”

“Ohh.” replied Hermione, looking a little relieved.

“OK. Uhh, Mione? I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean to…”

“Don't worry, Harry. I'm not mad at you. Forget about it.”

“Why didn't you give me a SAP before you went to talk to your dad?”

“I wanted the lesson about drinking to sink in some more first.”

“Ohh—how very kind of you. Uhh, what was so important that you needed to come in and see me right away?”

Suddenly Hermione's eyes widened and in them Harry thought he saw a variety of emotions pass through them—sorrow, anger, regret, and fear.

“Why don't we get cleaned up first, and then we'll go have some breakfast. I'll tell you after breakfast.” She then spun around and headed back to her room. Harry just sat on the bed, confused as he watched her leave.

-----

Hermione quickly got ready and then returned to her room to wait for Harry to finish. A few minutes after Harry jumped into the shower, Hermione heard a light knock at the door over the sound of the running water. She heard her mother's faint voice calling her name but she ignored it. A few minutes later Harry entered her room fully dressed but still trying to get his damp red hair to lay down.

Grinning at him, she laughed. “Give it up, Harry. That's one battle you'll never win. Not even with a metamorphmagus transformation.”

Harry chuckled and asked, “Ready then?”

A few minutes later, they were walking together outside the hotel and down the street to a little café they had eaten at several times before. They settled into a small white table outside on the edge of the sidewalk where they could watch the morning traffic yet not be overheard.

“Are your folks going to join us?” When Hermione refused to respond, Harry tried to make small talk as they ate a delicious breakfast of fruit, almond pastries, and juice.

Finally Hermione spoke and described the argument she had had with her parents earlier that morning. Harry sat in complete shock.

“I don't understand Hermione. Why wouldn't you tell your parents the truth about your years at Hogwarts?” Sensing Hermione was drawing in breath to explode at him, he continued. “Take it easy, Hermione. I'm on your side. I just don't understand why you kept all of that secret.”

“Don't you, Harry? Didn't you keep a few secrets all to yourself last year? Tell me, why did you do that?”

“Well, that was different. I was trying to protect you and Ron and everyone else I cared about. You don't know what it's like to lose your family, to be afraid of losing everyone you love so dearly simply because you're a target…”

“HARRY JAMES POTTER!!! Did you forget that I nearly lost both of my parents last year? That I've nearly lost you every year we've gone to school together? How dare you sit there as if you're the only person who's ever lost a loved one or been afraid of losing someone close to you!”

“You're right, Mione. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that at all. It just came out wrong. I'm sorry. I just tried to keep everything secret because I thought I could protect people better that way. And I wasn't sure I would get as much help from the members of the Order if they knew more. But I still don't see what this has to do with your parents.”

“They think I'm ashamed of them or something. But part of the reason I didn't tell them was because I thought it would be easier on them if they didn't know about the dangers I faced with you. That they would worry less if they didn't know everything. But part of me was afraid they might never let me go back if they knew the truth.”

“Go back?”

“Go back to the magical world. I mean I love my parents and everything, but when I'm at Hogwarts with my friends learning about magic and using it everyday, I feel like my world is finally complete. Like I'm whole. I never felt that way in my other schools or at home—I never felt like I really belonged. All those times out breaking rules with you and Ron, I felt so alive. But at the same time, part of me was terrified that I would get caught and expelled from school. And my worst fear was that my wand would be taken away and I would never be allowed to learn about or practice magic again. Ever.” As she finished, she leaned her head forward into her hands and began crying softly. Harry slid his chair over and tucked her head onto his shoulder and just let her cry.

Once Hermione had settled down a bit, Harry asked her, “So what are you going to do?”

“I don't know what to do. I have no idea.”

Tilting her head up to look at him, Harry suggested cautiously, “I think you should go back and talk to them. Tell them the whole truth. And tell them what you've told me.”

“That's excellent advice, coming from the Boy who never revealed a secret until it was discovered and only then did so reluctantly,” she replied sarcastically.

“Yeah, and you saw what the effect of trying to keep all of those secrets to myself did to me.”

Hermione looked at Harry and grasped his hand and squeezed it as Harry stared at the tabletop. “Don't make the same mistakes I did, Mione. You're smarter than that. I really think it would be for the best, for you and your parents.” He looked back at her. “If you like, I could go with you to give you some support,” he offered.

“Thanks, Harry, but I should probably do this on my own. Besides, I always have your support up here,” she smiled as she tapped her head with a finger.

“Whatever I can do to help, just let me know,” grinned Harry and put his arm around her again. They just sat there, enjoying the signs of life swirling around them.

-----

Returning to their hotel, Harry left Hermione in front of her parents' door with one final hug and then he headed back to his own room. Hermione hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly and waited for the door to open.

Three hours later, Harry left his room and walked to the Grangers' door. Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door opened and Hermione let him in and showed him to a chair. Her parents were seated next to each other on the edge of the bed, both looking a little pale.

Mr. Granger looked at Harry and said, “Hermione just told us about her owl form and showed it to us. She says that the two of you can communicate telepathically. When I asked her if you were listening to the conversation, she said yes and I asked her to have you come over. You might as well be here physically as well as mentally.” Both of the Grangers looked uncomfortably at Harry.

“Well, thank you for the invitation. Actually, I can only hear Hermione's side of the conversation.” Both of her parents looked confused. “I'm not really much of a telepath. I mean I can talk to Hermione, we call it mindspeaking, and I've done the same thing with Professor Dumbledore a couple of times, but that was under very strenuous circumstances. I can't read your minds. Hermione is the one that has the real gift for communicating telepathically with other people.” Both of the Grangers turned to look again at their daughter.

Hermione continued telling the story of the events of their sixth year, leaving out only some of the quiet, personal moments she and Harry had spent together and glossed over her visits inside of Harry's mind. When she told them about the Battle at Hogwarts and the final battle against Voldemort, her mother gripped her father's hand so tightly the blood was squeezed out of it.

When Hermione finished, her parents just looked at her in shock. The minutes seemed to drag by as the silence continued. Finally, her father spoke. “Why did you keep all this from us Hermione? What were you afraid of?”

Hermione looked quickly at Harry and he just nodded. “I wanted to protect you from the worry and the fear, the same worry and fear I felt all those years for Harry.”

Harry's head snapped up at that. He had known of course that she always worried about him, but had never really thought about how awful it must have been for her until now. “I'm so sorry Mione to have caused you so much pain.”

She simply smiled back at him before turning back to her parents. “And I was afraid that you might not let me go back to Hogwarts because of the danger there. I was afraid of losing the magical side of me, the part that makes me feel whole. I don't know how to explain it. But I'm so sorry I never told you the whole truth. I should have explained after the attack at our home. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sooo sorry…” As she began crying, her mother quickly moved over and gave her a huge hug, followed by her father.

Harry, looking a bit uncomfortable, moved quietly to leave the room and let the Grangers spend this moment alone.

“Where do you think you are going young man?” asked a teary eyed Mrs. Granger. Before the confused teen could respond, she gave him a huge hug as well. Mr. Granger walked over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

“Uhhh, thank you? I'm a little confused here. I thought you would hate me because of all the danger I've dragged your daughter into…”

“Harry!” protested Hermione.

“Trust me, son. Nobody drags my daughter anywhere she doesn't want to go in the first place. I want to thank you for protecting her as well as you have. Nobody could have done better.”

“Uhh, thank you sir.”

“You can call me George.”

“George?” asked Harry with a smile as he ignored Hermione's sharp look.

“Yes, is there something funny?”

“No sir, I mean George. It's just that I have a very good friend named George. And he has a twin named Fred.”

“Oh, that is funny. My father's name was Fred.”

“Yes, that is funny.”

“Harry, I do not want to hear one joke about…”

Harry quickly tuned her out as Hermione's mother began to speak by his side. “I think Hermione is very lucky to have found a friend like you.”

Harry's face turned a bright crimson as he tried to think of a reply. “Actually, I'm the lucky one. I never would have made it through the last six years without the help and friendship of your daughter.” Hermione rushed over and gave him a huge hug. “You mean the world to me, Mione. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. I love you.” Hermione gasped and pulled back in his arms a bit to look at him.

“What?” asked Harry and then saw the stunned faces of her parents. “Uhh, did I just say that out loud?” His face grew even more brightly red.

Hermione's mother gave them both another bone-crushing hug. Hermione's father walked over, looked at Harry and said, “We'll talk more about this later, Harry. But no wine this time.”

-----

They had a wonderful dinner that evening with Hermione's parents. When they left, Hermione and her mother walked on ahead, leaving Harry alone with her father. It was one of the longest walks of Harry's life. After all, he was the father of the girl, no, young woman, that he loved. If he were Hermione's father, he would be very protective of her, too, so he really couldn't blame the guy for wanting to know more about Harry. However, knowing and understanding Mr. Granger's motives didn't necessarily make it any easier for Harry. He kind of liked Hermione's dad, but he still felt nervous and a bit intimidated.

George Granger asked a lot of questions, and Harry did his best to answer them. He hoped he hadn't said anything embarrassing. Hermione's voice kept popping into his head to try and reassure him. But under the continuing barrage of questions and Hermione's constant comments, Harry couldn't keep track of both conversations.

Finally, Harry just turned to Hermione's father and said, “I know you have lots of questions for me, sir, but I meant what I said earlier. Your daughter means everything in the world to me. She has saved my life a dozen times over. She has been the best and truest friend I have ever known. She has never let me down and has been there for me every time I have needed her support. She brings out the best in me and inspires me to do more and be more than I ever could on my own. I love her more than anyone or anything I can ever imagine. I would never do anything to hurt her or to put her into harm's way. You have to believe me when I tell you that I would die before I let anything happen to her.” Harry paused and looked intently into Mr. Granger's eyes.

Mr. Granger reached across and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. “Well spoken, young man. I look forward to getting to know you better, Harry. Come on, let's catch up to the girls.”

As they reached the women walking ahead of them, Hermione reached back and grabbed Harry's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “I think Dad was very impressed tonight. Mom, too.”

“I meant every word. Do you feel better now that you've talked to your parents?”

“Yes, thanks Harry.” They followed her parents upstairs and Hermione gave Harry a quick kiss goodnight before he headed into his own room. She followed them into their room and paused to look back at Harry. “I've got a few more things to sort out with my parents, but thanks again for everything, Harry.”

Harry just smiled. “Anytime, Mione. Anytime.”

-->

Ch 3: Acropolis

The next morning, Harry woke up to the sound of Hermione's voice inside his head.

“Wake up sleepyhead! We've got lots of things to do today.” Harry found the voice rather annoyingly perky, especially this early in the morning. “I'm already to go. Hurry and get washed up, then we'll go grab some breakfast with my folks. I've already picked some places for us to go see today.”

Harry grumbled as he got up, but went and did as he was told, slowly waking up in the hot shower.

After her long talk with her parents the day before, Hermione had slept very well and woken up early. Too excited to sleep further, she had gotten ready for the day. After waking up Harry, she looked at several travel brochures and tourist guides. She enjoyed reading and thinking about the various places they hadn't visited yet. She finally decided that the Acropolis should definitely be the first thing on their list of things to visit today. That decided, she read about it again in several of the different books she had brought with her and waited for Harry to finish getting ready.

When Harry finally emerged from the bathroom, they went across the hall and knocked on her parents' door. Then all four went down to their favorite café and enjoyed a pleasant breakfast while Hermione shared her ideas about the places she wanted to visit during the day.

“Actually, your father and I thought it might be nice for the two of you to spend some time together today. We'll probably take one of the tour buses around the city and then relax this afternoon at the hotel. Why don't we meet back at the restaurant we ate at yesterday about eight o'clock tonight?” Smiling at the wide grins on the young teens' faces, Mrs. Granger assumed they were both happy about her suggestion.

After they were done eating, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him into the street. “You're going to love it Harry. We're going to the Acropolis today. The main temple there is the Parthenon. During the time of Pericles in the mid fifth century B.C., following Athens' defeat of Sparta, the city rebuilt the temple and surrounding structures that had been destroyed earlier by the invading Persians in…”

“Is there going to be a quiz on this later, Mione?”

“No, now stop interrupting. I'm almost to the good part…”

Harry focused part of his attention on Hermione's background lecture on the Acropolis and the Parthenon as they walked to the hill on which it stood. The walk also gave him a few moments to reflect on the weeks since Voldemort's defeat and his own recovery from that battle. Exams had been canceled and the last few weeks at school had been full of fun despite their sorrow for their fallen classmates. None of the students and few of the professors were very eager to be in class. Every weekend the students were allowed to go to Hogsmeade and the Gryffindors and the other houses were up late nearly every night throwing victory parties. Indeed, the entire wizarding world had been caught up in vast celebrations following the Dark Lord's defeat for several weeks afterwards.

What also seemed clearer now to Harry were the reasons he had come to Greece in the first place. First, since Voldemort was no longer a threat, not even Dumbledore himself could have persuaded Harry to return to the Dursleys. One of the happiest moments of his life was when he sent Hedwig to the Dursley's home informing them that he would not be coming home for the summer. He was sure the feeling of joy had been mutual.

He couldn't stay at the Burrow either because it was still being rebuilt after being burnt down last fall. With Lupin's help, Harry had sold one of the Black's estates he had inherited and used the money to open a new account at Gringott's. Then, with Dumbledore's help, he had talked to the goblins about how to give the money to the Weasleys without them ever being able to find out. To his great surprise, the goblins offered to send a letter to the Weasley's announcing that part of Sirius' original will had left them 100,000 galleons in an account out of gratitude for their aid and support of Harry during the years he had been unable to look after him. Furthermore, they offered to send them a letter notifying them of this and explaining that the reason they hadn't been notified earlier was due to some clerical error and that they were terribly sorry and would award them the interest they deserved as well as an additional 10,000 galleons. When Harry, in shock, tried to offer them additional gold to cover what they proposed, the goblins smiled and politely declined. They explained that it was simply a token of their appreciation for what Harry had done for the magical world by defeating Voldemort. Before Harry could protest further, Dumbledore thanked the goblins for him and got up to leave. Dumbledore quietly advised Harry to simply accept the gift in gratitude and not risk antagonizing the goblins for their generosity. Harry then thanked the goblins for their gift graciously, which seemed to please them very much.

Harry had no desire to rebuild the Black mansion at Grimmauld Place, so when Hermione invited him to accompany her folks on a vacation to Greece, he jumped at the chance. He had never been on a vacation before with the Dursleys, and in fact, in the nearly six years since he had discovered the world of magic, he had scarcely enjoyed a moment of peace because of the various dangers caused by Voldemort. He thought he certainly deserved a little break away from it all.

In addition, the growing amount of mail and attention he was receiving from wizards and witches all over the world was beginning to wear heavily on his patience. It was only a few days after he had sent the wonderful letter to the Dursley's announcing that he would not be going back this summer that he managed to find the department in the Ministry that would solve his fanmail problem. Late one night, using the techniques he had already mastered to break through the Ministry's security systems, he adjusted the mail delivery system that all magical owls depended upon to deliver their mail correctly. He altered the identification charm that allowed owls to find him and placed it on his cousin Dudley. Instead of delivering owl mail to Harry Potter, future owls would deliver all letters and packages to his cousin Dudley Dursley. He then placed an altered identification charm on himself and set up a new account for under the name James Black for those friends he still wanted to be able to reach him.

Harry smiled widely thinking of how the Dursleys were probably handling the flocks of owls that were doubtless assaulting their home's windows daily. Knowing exactly what they would do with the mail, Harry had placed a simple transportation charm he obtained from the Weasley twins inside of the fireplace to transfer the mail to an empty vault at Gringotts. Though he didn't want to read it, he didn't want it destroyed either. Someday he would talk to Dumbledore to see if there was some magical way to sort through and respond to the mountain of letters he had received. He felt kind of bad ignoring the mail, but on the other hand knew there was simply no possible way for him to physically read it all himself. He doubted whether even Hermione could have accomplished the feat.

For the last ten minutes of the walk as he walked hand in hand with Hermione, he let his senses catch the various sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling world around them as Athens started its day. As they approached the high hill on which it sat, Harry's eyes took in the various buildings that Hermione had been describing to him as they strolled along. His jaw dropped in awe as he took in the view that unfolded before them as they climbed the steep ramp leading to the crown of the hill and passed through the Beule Gate.

Hermione pointed out some of the other important points that were visible from the hill. Following her pointing arm he listened with interest. “That's Areopagos hill, where St. Paul spoke with the Greeks in 51 A.D. That low hill to the west was where the Judicial Court of democratic Greece met and deliberated. And that hill slightly to the southwest of here called Pnyx Hill was where the Eklesia, the citizen's assembly of the 5^th century met and discussed politics.”

Turning away from the magnificent view offered by the hill, Harry and Hermione looked at the ruins that surrounded them. There were several buildings still standing on the top of the hill, but the one that instantly drew everyone's attention was the Parthenon itself. A massive building of marble that measured 230 feet by 100 feet and tall enough to house a forty foot statue of the goddess Athena, it must have been an incredible structure when it was first erected. It was still impressive, but during a seventeenth century battle between the Venetians and the Turks an explosion had nearly knocked the entire building down. Most of it remained standing, but one could now see through the walls into the interior. But it didn't take much imagination to picture the grandeur it had once possessed. Despite the lack of remaining paint, the still existing sculptures along the roof and the massive stone columns testified of the artistic and architectural genius that had created the magnificent building.

“It's a pity we couldn't have seen it in during its days of glory.”

Harry paused and looked off into the distance as he thought for a minute. “Give me your sunglasses, Mione.”

“What? Why?” she asked as she reached into her pocket.

With a grin on his face, he took the sunglasses from her hand and whispered “Trust me.” He looked around quickly to make sure nobody was watching or listening as he cupped his hands underneath the lenses and muttered something very quietly.

Hermione heard a soft hum and hissed, “Harry, you know you're not supposed to…”

He gave her another infuriating grin and returned the sunglasses to Hermione. “Try them on and check out the view, Mione.”

As she slipped them on, she gasped loudly. “Harry! What did you do? These buildings…they're amazing…have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

“Not unless you lend me the glasses,” he teased.

Hermione slowly turned around so that she could see all of the buildings in all of their former splendor. “Now this is what the Acropolis was meant to look like,” she muttered in awe. At Harry's insistent tugging on her arm, she reluctantly took the glasses off and passed them to Harry. He put them on and looked around in disbelief.

“Wow, sometimes I amaze even myself,” he began bragging when Hermione punched him in the arm.

“What spell was that, Harry? Some sort of divination charm? A discovery charm? No, no, uhh, some sort of restoration charm. But it has aspects of an illusion charm, because it doesn't actually physically transform anything. Or some sort of combination of the two—but that's very difficult to do with a wand. But of course, you're Harry and so obviously you can do it without a wand, and what are you smirking at?”

Trying to keep from laughing at loud, Harry struggled to respond, “Do you have any idea how fast you talk when a problem stumps you and you try to solve it out loud?” Then he burst into laughter.

Hermione slugged him in the arm again and asked, “So are you going to tell me or not?”

“Maybe if you stop hitting me. It's a simple variation on a spell that the twins have been working on. They're creating a new line of joke glasses that will, uh, well…”Harry paused as his face turned red, “Are you sure you want to know, being a prefect and all?”

“Probably not, but I suppose I better. I imagine I will be confiscating a fair number of these types of glasses when we return to Hogwarts?”

Harry tried to put on an innocent face. “Of course not, Mione. I'm sure they'll be put on Filch's list of banned items almost immediately.”

“And why would that be? What is it they do exactly?”

Gaining confidence, Harry explained, “Oh nothing dangerous of course. They simply create various illusions for the wearer. Perfectly harmless fun.”

With a dangerous glint in her eye, Hermione asked coolly, “And will these illusions portray scantily clad super models from the Muggle or Wizarding world? Veela, perhaps?”

Harry started, and then sputtered. “Mione! They're nothing like that. Honest. Some of the glasses would have put funny clothes on people or made them look ridiculous, like what Neville did with the boggart of Snape. Some would trick the wearer into reaching for doorknobs or trying to walk through doors that weren't really there. But now that you mention it, the kind that you mentioned might sell better,” teased Harry.

“Harry,” growled Hermione in a threatening tone as she stepped nearer.

“Kidding! Just kidding. Actually, we were also thinking about putting some Muggle TV shows or movies on some of the glasses, or replays of Quidditch matches like the omnioculars we got at the Quidditch world cup. It took us awhile to figure out the spells they used to enchant them, but…”

“And I suppose some of these glasses will let students read their textbooks and then recall the images in the glasses when they need them during an exam?” demanded Hermione.

“No, no. We hadn't thought of that, actually. Blimey, Hermione, we should make you a partner. You've got a great mind for this sort of thing. All those years hanging out with me and the Weasleys has thoroughly corrupted you. Just look at you now. You don't trust anyone, you automatically suspect the worst…” laughed Harry.

“Harry, this isn't funny. And don't think you can just talk your way out of it,” glowered Hermione, but he could tell she wasn't as upset as she pretended to be. At least he didn't think so.

“Really, Mione, we haven't worked up any sinister or offensive illusions. But I have to confess, we are thinking about a line of glasses called Homework Helpers which would allow a person to recall images of the textbook that they had at least looked out, but…”

“Harry…”

“But the images they would actually recall would be slightly different from the real textbook. Imagine someone using them to cheat on a Potions examination and having the Homework Helpers tell them to add ten pinches of sulfur to a Potion of Mind Focusing instead of two pinches of lavender.”

Finally cracking a smile, Hermione chuckled. “Well, they'd get exactly what they deserved. A mild explosion, a pounding headache, and a failing grade. Not to mention Snape's reaction. I guess I can live with that.”

“Good. Let's check out the rest of the buildings.” Harry pulled Hermione along, and they took turns with the glasses, taking in all of the sights.

As Harry moved closer to the Parthenon, Hermione grabbed his arm. “Nobody is allowed in the temples now. Nobody has been for about thirty years.”

“Well, I guess nobody better see us go in then,” smiled Harry.

“Harry, we really shouldn't.”

“But you're not going to let that stop you, are you?” teased Harry.

“Just give me the cloak and make sure nobody sees us disappear.”

With a chuckle, Harry reached into his pouch and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak for Hermione and prepared to disappear himself. Now invisible, both stopped and gazed in admiration at the temple they now saw before them. The pillars and walls were a nearly blinding white while the statues and carvings along the edges and just under the roof were brilliant hues of blue and red. As they entered the temple itself, they marveled at the beautiful furnishings and then stopped within the large chamber that had housed the statue of Athena. She wore robes covered with a thin layer of gold and the skin of her hands and face were ivory. In her right hand she held a small depiction of the winged god Victory and in her left a shield embossed with a large snake. The helmet on her head had three crests, one was the head of a lion, one an owl, and one seemed to be that of a dog.

“This is simply amazing, Harry. Do you realize who that is?”

“It's Athena, right?”

“Well, actually in this depiction, she is Athena Parthenos, the Virgin, the goddess of wisdom and war.”

“It's beautiful isn't it? Did you notice the four animals that were depicted on her helmet and shield? They look like the same ones that represent the four houses at Hogwarts. Do you think there is any connection?”

“I don't know, there could be. That would make a very interesting research project.”

“Uh, sure. Very interesting.” agreed Harry dryly in a tone of voice that sounded far from convinced.

They continued to wander around the temple, taking in sights that they imagined hadn't been seen for centuries, appreciating the opportunity, even if it was only an illusion. Then they wandered around the other buildings and marveled at their beauty. Nearly an hour later, they left and headed west, towards a smaller temple called the Erechtheum.

Just outside of the temple, they saw a small patio that sheltered an ancient olive tree. They passed several pillars and then opened a small door, ignoring the sign that said “Closed to the Public.” As they crossed the threshold into the darker chamber, both paused momentarily to allow their eyes to adjust to the gloomier interior. The golden lamps burning inside provided much less light than the bright sunlight outside. Right in front of them they saw a spring that smelled of salt. Off to their left, they saw three separate statues and small altars. Hermione described each one of them to Harry.

“The first is a statue of Erechtheos, the first king of Athens. The second is Hermes, the messenger of the Gods, and the third is Athena Polias, the patron goddess of the city of Athens.”

“Ohh!” exclaimed Hermione as a darkly clad stranger emerged from the side of the Athena statue where he had been completely hidden by the shadows and looked directly at them, as if he could see through both the Invisibility Cloak and Harry's cloaking ability.

Harry quickly and silently stepped in front of Hermione protectively and with a flick of his wrist summoned his wand to his hand. The world around him exploded as his senses expanded, trying to provide him with the information he needed to understand the potential threat. Hermione shifted behind him and he could tell that she was reaching for her own wand.

“Wait a moment, Mione. There's only one. I don't sense anyone else. I doubt a Death Eater would even be wandering around here this far from home.”

“I am deeply impressed my young friends. Let me guess, an invisibility cloak and a hmm…that seems like a variation on a disillusionment spell.” Realizing the stranger had spotted them, Hermione removed the cloak and Harry dispelled his invisibility. The silence lengthened between the three as the stranger and Harry looked at each other, trying to get the measure of the other. Harry let his senses expand again, trying to gather any small bit of information that might provide him with a clue about the identity of the cloaked figure. The most startling discovery he made was that despite his best attempts to view him more clearly, the stranger's face remained in shadow within the folds of the hood that rested over his head. The stranger finally broke the silence.

“Good morning, Mr. Black. Or should I say Mr. Potter?” spoke the man in a low voice. Seeing the young man with long, dark red hair and flashing green eyes tense he continued. “You have nothing to fear from me, Mr. Potter, I mean you no harm. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. And I am doubly pleased to meet the beautiful young Miss Granger. I have heard much about the both of you.” He then bowed graciously before the two. “I hope you are enjoying the sights of this beautiful city. It is a shame that you cannot see it as it used to be.”

“Who are you and how do you know us?” demanded Harry still holding his wand at the ready.

The man's head darted from side to side, as if assuring himself that they were truly alone. “It would be too dangerous to the both of you and to myself to reveal my true name, but you can call me Corlyn. That is how I am known to one of your oldest friends. In fact, it is because of him that I know both of you—even you, Mr. Potter, despite your excellent Metamorphmagus transformation. He and I have often worked towards the same cause to protect the world from those who would seek to control it or destroy it, much as he has with the Order of the Phoenix.

Both Hermione and Harry gasped in shock. “You—you know Dumbledore?” stammered Hermione.

The stranger smiled and continued, “Yes. But there are other threats to the world besides Voldemort—though he was one of the worst our world has seen in ages. Yet these other evils, though less obvious, are no less dangerous and must be countered as well. And this is why I have come to speak with you despite the terrible risk. There are important matters I wish to discuss and I don't have much time.”

“Very well,” sighed Harry and looked briefly at Hermione before he returned his gaze to the stranger. “What can I do to help?”

The cloaked man laughed softly. “I'm not really sure how you could help, Mr. Potter, beyond protecting Miss Granger. While I appreciate your valor, Mr. Potter, it is not your courage that is needed most to combat this evil. It is the intellect and talents of Miss Granger that will be of most use in this task. Not all battles are won through brute force and sheer strength—or even raw magical power. No, wars are won by those with the intellect to plan for every contingency and minds adaptable and agile enough to take advantage of unforeseen developments.”

The eyes of both Harry and Hermione widened in surprise, and Hermione blushed as well. Harry's face flushed briefly, then he locked his jaw and grated his back teeth, biting off any angry comments he might make. If the stranger noticed Harry's anger, he gave no sign. Harry fumed quietly and then rubbed his temple softly with his right hand.

Still somewhat flustered, Hermione asked, “I'm not sure I understand. Harry is the one who defeated Voldemort. I don't have any skills or powers that could…”

“My dear young lady, never sell yourself short. Your amazing intellect, your talent for research, and your ability to translate languages are powerful weapons—as I believe you have already demonstrated time and time again.”

“I suppose so, but how—how did you know all that? And I still don't understand what it is you want. I'm not sure how you think I—we could help.”

“As to the former question, your reputation precedes you. As to your second question, you know that there are artifacts of incredible power in this world. I believe you have had some experience with the Philosopher's Stone. Many of these powerful items have been lost, and most are better off that way. But occasionally they are found and all too often they fall into the hands of those who should never be allowed to use their power. It is not always the safest course to sit back and simply hope they stay hidden forever. Especially when there are agents of evil actively searching to recover items which should never have been created in the first place.”

“So you want us to find some long lost magical item and destroy it before it falls into the wrong hands?” asked Hermione.

“I cannot tell you what to do,” hissed the dark stranger sharply. “You must make your own decisions.” He regained his composure and continued. “I apologize for losing my temper momentarily. I am sure you have heard of Atlantis, yes?”

“Of course. Though there aren't many sources besides a few writings by Plato, and those are second or third hand accounts if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, Plato—one of the few muggles worth reading. But not about Atlantis. What have historians of the wizarding world said about Atlantis?”

“Well, very few seem to agree on which myths contain more truth. But most seem to agree that it was the pride of the human wizards that brought about its destruction.”

The man in shadows laughed deeply. “Oh, it was the sin of pride that brought about the destruction of Atlantis. But not the pride of human wizards. What did the other historians say?”

Hermione looked puzzled. “Other historians?”

The stranger laughed again. “Why is it that humans continue to think the entire world revolves around them and them alone?” It seemed like a rhetorical question so Hermione remained silent. Harry, still rubbing his forehead, looked at the stranger curiously. “You, better than anyone else should realize that humans, both muggle and magical, are not the only living beings that can think and communicate, correct? When creatures can think and speak, they often develop some form of written communication as well, do they not? And if they can write, they can leave behind records. Humans aren't the only ones who keep records of the past.”

Hermione looked at him in shock and then with growing comprehension. “But where would those records be stored?”

“Where are most historical records found?”

As Hermione opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off and continued. “I wish I could give you more specific guidance, but I know very little more myself and my time is almost up. These other historical records may provide more details—though most are unreadable now, except for someone with your particular talents. In your animagus form, Miss Granger, you may be able to unravel the ancient mysteries of Atlantis. And, I hope, prevent another cataclysm of the magnitude that sank Atlantis and nearly destroyed the entire world.”

Harry looked in awe at Hermione while her mouth dropped in amazement.

The shadowed figure continued. “Unfortunately, I cannot help you further. But should you decide to pursue this quest, be very careful, Miss Granger. There are many who would love to recover some of the power from long lost Atlantis—no matter the cost. And I fear some are actively looking for the clues right now. And they will not let anything, or anyone, get in their way. Guard her closely, Mr. Potter. Good luck.” He then melted back into the shadows and vanished from sight.

“Wait! What is it they're after? And who are they?” Silence was their only answer.

“Lot of bloody help he was,” muttered Harry. “How did he know we were here? How did he see us—we were both invisible. And how did he disappear like that? I didn't hear him Disapparate.”

“Maybe he's been following us…maybe he's got an eye like Mad-Eye Moody's…maybe he had a timed portkey…” replied Hermione, deep in thought.

“That's a lot of maybes, Mione. What he should have done was give himself enough time to better explain himself,” complained Harry. Harry looked around a bit, looking for any additional clues that might help him better understand the mysterious stranger, but came up with nothing. Hermione just stood chewing her lip and thinking hard. Putting the cloak back over her head, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand as he disappeared and they left the small temple. Moving down the hill, they made themselves visible while nobody was looking. They sat down on one of the steps of the ramp with a wonderful view of the city and began discussing their strange encounter. To all appearances, they seemed to be a young couple holding hands taking in the magnificent view of Athens.

“Do you suppose he really was a friend of Dumbledore?” asked Harry.

“I don't know. But Dumbledore has some pretty odd friends, don't you think? Just look at the faculty and some of the members of the Order. I wouldn't feel comfortable with all of them if Dumbledore didn't trust them. Do you think we can trust him? Or anything he said?”

“I don't know right now. And I think I feel a migraine headache coming on.”

“I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, how about another SAP.”

“Fine, here you go.” She mixed a small amount for him and he drank it gratefully.

“Why don't you trust him, Harry?”

“Are you serious? He never even told us who he was, really. I couldn't even see what he looked like. But there was something else about him, something I could sense, but I'm not sure how. But he seemed to radiate great power. And death. I'm not sure how to explain it exactly. Did you sense anything odd about him, besides the obvious of course.”

“No, not really. For some reason, I couldn't really get a sense of his thoughts or feelings—though I didn't really try. I was concentrating more on what he was saying.”

“Hmm. Well I don't like him and I don't trust him at all.”

“Are you sure you're not just mad because, well, because he said your skills weren't the ones that would be needed or…” As soon as she thought it she immediately regretted it.

“NO!!! Well, maybe a little bit. No, the thing that upsets me most is that if what he says is true, then you may be in the most danger. I'm used to that for me. But it scares me to death to think about you being in danger. It always has.”

“Well, welcome to my world Harry. You've been dealing with that for what—ten minutes now? Try dealing with it for five and a half years. And for your information, Harry, I can take care of myself.”

Smiling, Harry replied, “I know, I know. You're my princess but you don't need a rescue. But why all the mystery and vagueness? Why didn't he just tell us what to look for? And who was after it? For all we know, he could be part of some plot to get one of the lost artifacts of Atlantis.”

“I suppose, but look at who doesn't trust anyone now and automatically suspects the worst…”

Harry grinned as Hermione continued, “And remember how Dobby tried to help you in our second year, but he couldn't come out and say anything directly?”

“Yeah, but Dobby seemed a lot less dangerous than this guy.” Then Harry smiled. “Of course, Dobby nearly got me killed, or even worse, expelled, at least half a dozen times.”

“Funny, Potter. But admit it Harry. You're dying of curiosity.”

“Well, I'm sure I'm not the only one, Mione. But I think we should be very careful. Especially you.”

As she squeezed his hand, she laughed as she thought, “The infamous Harry Potter urging caution instead of charging right in? I never thought I'd see the day!”

With a wry grin, Harry replied “Well, I've come to believe that reckless courage is way overrated. Haven't you ever noticed that most of the stories about heroes are told by someone else and not the hero himself? As for me, I want to be one of those few heroes who lives happily ever after. And who lives long enough to tell the stories himself.”

Smiling back, Hermione thought, “So you're interested then, even if it sounds like lots of reading and research in dusty old libraries?”

“Let me get this straight. A mysterious stranger comes up practically begging our—well, mostly your help—to research some mysterious artifact from Atlantis and then find it before some bad, evil guys can find it and use it to take over the world and you're asking me what do I think? Of course I'm intrigued. But if we do try and find whatever he was talking about, I'm going everywhere and doing everything with you. I don't care if he doesn't think my skills would be that helpful. I happen to know that my snitch catching ability and bacon frying expertise have come in very handy in the past.”

Hermione chuckled. “Good. Now when do you think we should start researching? Tomorrow morning or this afternoon? Personally, I favor…”

“This afternoon. I know. But I thought we were on vacation. Besides, I really think we should talk to Dumbledore first. I'd like to know more about this Corlyn character first and what his agenda is. Especially if he's supposed to be some old friend of Dumbledore's. Besides, it's not like we have the library at Hogwarts to browse through right now. What are we going to read?”

“Hmmm. Maybe you're right. We'll use this afternoon to make a plan to try and get in touch with Dumbledore. Then we can start first thing in the morning.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon going over the strange conversation they had shared with Corlyn trying to unravel the clues he had given them and planning out some course of action they could take. They also discussed how they might get in touch with Dumbledore. They took a break when they met her parents later that night for dinner, and enjoyed a relaxing evening together. No mention was made of the mysterious stranger however.

After dinner, Hermione told her parents that she and Harry were going to walk around for a while before they headed back to the hotel. Her mother looked at her oddly for a moment but her dad just advised them to be careful and not to stay out too late. When they had left, Harry and Hermione continued discussing their plan.

“I still don't think it's much of a plan, Harry. Wandering around the streets until we stumble across a wizard shop or tavern—I mean, what are the odds of us actually finding…”

“Hey, this is better than most of the plans Ron comes up with,” grinned Harry.

“That's not saying much, Harry.”

“Besides, you haven't come up with a better one. Unless you know where the Ministry of Magic is located, or a wizard's home that is hooked up to the Floo network, I can't think of a better idea. You've told me it's too far for you to contact anyone there telepathically. And I don't know any of the special methods the Order uses to communicate. I guess I should have asked.” Harry's brow furrowed in thought. “Wait a minute. Do you suppose they might have the equivalent of a Knight Bus?”

“I'm not sure. It's certainly a better idea than your first plan.”

Harry led Hermione out of the restaurant and down a few blocks until they found a darker alley. Sensing only a few cats chasing each other down the alley, Harry led Hermione out of sight of the main street. He lifted his wand up in his right hand and whispered “Lumos.”

A dull roar like distant thunder rolled through the narrow alley and then a small bus appeared beside the two young teens. The driver opened the sliding door and turned to look at them. Harry let Hermione do the talking, since he couldn't speak more than three or four words in Greek without Hermione's help. He pulled out twenty sickles from his leather pouch to give to the driver when Hermione told him and she directed the driver to take them to the nearest wizard inn. The driver looked at them with a look of surprise on his face. Hermione spoke to him as she mentally translated for Harry.

“He says it's not more than fifteen blocks from here. I just told him we were students visiting abroad and weren't very familiar with the local wizarding community. That seemed to satisfy him.”

“Good thinking, Mione,” replied Harry as he settled back into one of the seats for the short ride. Within a few minutes, they arrived at a seedy little dive. Reading the sign, Hermione translated the name to Harry as The Crooked Staff.

“Seems appropriate enough,” he chuckled as he stepped out of the van. He helped Hermione to the street and glanced warily at the shadows as they walked to the front door.

-->

Ch 4: The Long Walk Back

Inside The Crooked Staff, Harry and Hermione paused momentarily to allow their vision to adjust to the dim light inside the tavern. Avoiding the scattered tables and chairs strewn haphazardly throughout the chamber, they made their way to the bar at the far side of the room. Hermione asked for a room with a fireplace from which they could contact their school.

The tavern owner looked up from the glass he was cleaning and peered at them curiously. “I have rooms I could rent you if you needed,” he offered, “but they would have to be separate. You two don't seem old enough to be married and I won't rent you a single room if you're not.”

Hermione blushed slightly but Harry explained with Hermione's help. “I quite understand. We just need a room for a few minutes to speak with one of our professors at school. We're classmates from the same school. Actually, we're here on vacation with my parents and we would have stayed at a wizard inn like the one you have, but they're both Muggles and still don't feel very comfortable in our world. That's why they didn't come with us tonight. I'm sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, young man. I understand.” Turning around behind him, he pulled out a key on a short chain and hesitated before he handed it to Harry.

Noting his concern, Harry spoke softly to him. “You have my oath as a wizard that I have nothing but the best of intentions for the young lady. We just need the room to talk to our professor.” Satisfied, the owner gave him the key and told them to use the second room on the right at the top of the stairs.

They walked across the room to the stairs on the side of the wall. Harry's gaze swept again over the several figures hunched over their drinks at various tables, but nothing out of the ordinary struck him about their appearance. If anyone noticed the young couple heading upstairs, nobody seemed to show an interest.

Closing and locking the door behind them, Harry moved towards the fireplace to throw an extra log on. Hermione searched the mantle for the jar of powder they would need and lifted it down. Removing the lid, she grabbed a pinch and passed the jar to Harry. He took a bit of the powder between his fingers and turned towards the fire. Together, they tossed the powder into the flames and repeated in unison, “Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland.” Then they waited for a few moments. The room spun for a moment and when their vision cleared, they could see Dumbledore's office. Seated in a chair by his desk was Dumbledore himself, who looked at the two young teens with calm amusement in his blue eyes.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, my two young friends? To tell you the truth, I did not really expect to hear from either of you for another couple of weeks after you returned from your vacation in Athens.” Grinning suddenly at Hermione, he continued, “As you predicted, Harry's refusal to either attend or accept the award caused quite a stir, but one that has been mostly positive I believe, especially after Arthur read Harry's letter. In fact, Arthur has been put in charge of a special commission for creating a special monument honoring all those who gave their lives in the war against Voldemort.”

It was Hermione's turn to grin as Dumbledore looked at Harry more seriously. “But I am afraid that Hermione was also right about the political problems your little stunt might cause. Obviously, Fudge is furious. But there are others in the international community who were upset as well.”

Harry snorted, “Fudge is upset? Who cares? He's nothing but a political hack, a spineless bureaucrat. What can he possibly do that Voldemort and his Death Eaters couldn't do? I'm not scared of what he can do.”

“I did not say that you should be, Harry. But do not dismiss so easily the trouble and chaos those with political power can cause, given the proper motivation. Fudge may not be much of a foe in a magical duel, but his political power can be quite dangerous. There are many kinds of enemies, Harry—political opponents are not the least of these and should never be taken lightly.”

Hermione chimed in, “Have you forgotten what Fudge and Umbridge were nearly able to do to Hogwart's two years ago? They almost took over the school simply through bureaucratic manipulation and quasi-legal decrees.”

“I know, I know. It's not like I could have forgotten,” muttered Harry as he absent mindedly rubbed the back of his right hand. “But why do I need to worry about it when the both of you do more than enough worrying already?” smiled Harry.

Exasperated, Hermione replied, “Because we may not always be there to point out the political pitfalls of your actions.”

“I know, I know, I promise I'll be more careful,” replied Harry.

“Excellent, Harry. By the way, I think you did the right thing. You made an excellent point to the magical world, one they needed to more fully understand. I just hope you realize that those kinds of actions almost always exact a price as well. But I do not think you wanted to speak to me about the Order of Merlin ceremony. Please tell me, what is so urgent that you needed to contact me personally?”

Harry glanced at Hermione before beginning a detailed description of the events of their day. When Dumbledore raised his eyebrows several times in surprise, they were glad they had decided to speak with him before pursuing the task any further. When he was finished, Dumbledore rubbed a furrowed brow and looked off sideways into the distance as he thought quietly for several moments.

“So do you know this Corlyn fellow?” prompted Harry.

“I thought I did. We have occasionally shared information in the past, he was very helpful during both wars against Voldemort. But he was always a very mysterious figure, though his information was always useful and accurate. Now if he has information about someone who is seeking one of the artifacts of Atlantis…”

“Well, he may have had information, but he sure wasn't very good at sharing it. He was pretty vague about both the people who were interested in it and what they might be after,” explained Harry.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Yes, I do recall experiencing certain frustrations with some of the information he provided.”

Hermione spoke up, “Do you know what he was talking about? What kind of artifact someone may want from Atlantis? We thought we would begin with some initial research on Atlantis, but if you know something you could tell us or help point us in the right direction…”

Looking closely at both of them, Dumbledore sighed. “I suppose the two of you have already decided to pursue this task Corlyn has described?”

“Of course, sir. If we can prevent some powerful artifact from falling into the wrong hands, how we could we not try and do something to prevent it?” replied Hermione. Harry nodded his agreement.

“I thought as much. I will not waste my time nor yours trying to dissuade either of you.” The look of concern and worry in his eyes that he was unable to hide spoke more loudly than did his actual words to the two. “I will come to Athens and visit the both of you a week from tomorrow. I have a few things I need to look into first. I presume that you have told nobody else about your experiences today?” As they shook their heads in unison, he continued. “Please keep it that way. If you feel like pulling books from the library to begin some preliminary research, feel free to do so. I will alert Madame Pince so that she does not become alarmed at missing books on her shelves. But do not do anything more until after we have spoken. And be extremely cautious—both of you.” Dumbledore looked at both of them sternly, but kindly.

“Sir, how did you know we were in Athens?” asked Hermione.

Dumbledore chuckled. “A true wizard never reveals all of his secrets.” Then his tone became serious again. “I will meet you again a week from tomorrow at eight o'clock at—what was the name—The Twisted Staff?”

“The Crooked Staff, sir.”

“Ah yes. They have excellent food there, by the way, despite its rather shabby appearance. Try to enjoy the rest of your vacation until we meet again. And be careful.”

Realizing the conversation was over, Harry and Hermione pulled back and looked at each other.

“If he's worried, you know we've stumbled into something serious, Mione. I've never seen him that off balance before.”

“Well, we'll just do what he says. Take in some sights and do some casual reading in the afternoons and evenings. You can get us books from Hogwart's library, can't you?”

“Of course, as long as your idea of casual reading doesn't exceed five books a night. It's getting late, we better get headed back to the hotel.”

Hermione followed Harry out of the room and back down the stairs to the main room of the tavern. Harry noticed there was the same number of people in the tavern, but the witch with the purple hat had left and a wizard with a shabby grey cloak was now at a table by the wall that had been vacant before. When he glanced at his watch he was astonished to notice that nearly an hour had passed as he made his way to the tavern owner to pay for the room. Harry paid the sum requested and added a generous tip which was received gratefully. After saying good night, Hermione and Harry exited the tavern and turned their steps towards their hotel.

The night was cool and refreshing after the warm tavern. With only a sliver of the moon present, it was also fairly dark on most of the sidestreets. A brisk walk home appealed to the young pair as they mindspoke silently about their conversation with Dumbledore and tried again to make sense of the events of their day.

A pair of young men had just reeled past them, a little tipsy after a long night drinking. When they suddenly stopped several feet in front of them, Harry sensed the trap but it was too late to escape. Strong pairs of arms grabbed both Hermione and Harry and dragged them into a dark alley.

Harry forced himself to relax as he sorted through his options and listened as Hermione translated for him.

“Well, well. A foolish young couple out for a lovely stroll? Not very smart bringing your girlfriend to this part of the city at this time of night. But don't worry, we'll take good care of her. Nikki! Get his money and then slit his throat. We'll take the girl somewhere else.”

Harry closed his eyes tightly and heard laughter around him. “Not very brave, this one, eh? Finish him off and let's get out of here.”

To the young thugs, it seemed as if Harry was whimpering and begging for mercy, but when he muttered Lumos the alley exploded in blinding light, stunning his opponents momentarily. Harry snapped his head backwards violently to smash in the nose and front teeth of the man holding his arms pinned. As his hold loosened, he grabbed the wrist of the man in front of him that had been searching through his pocket looking for his wallet, locked his fingers tightly around the thumb, and twisted violently until he heard the bones snap. Then he punched him as hard as he could in the left ear. The mugger dropped quietly to the ground. Harry spun to face the mugger who had pinned his arms and was now holding his face with his hands, trying to stop the heavy bleeding coming from his nose and mouth. Harry punched him once in the solar plexus, doubling him over. In one fluid movement, Harry shifted his feet into position, bent at the knees into a crouch, grabbed the mugger's right wrist with his left hand, and then shot his right arm between the man's legs. He then exploded upward from his crouching position with the man laying across his shoulders, he yanked down hard with his left arm as he lifted his right and threw the man headfirst across the alley where he crumpled, moaning in pain.

Harry's back exploded in pain as a long board smashed diagonally across it. Harry spun to face the new attacker and lunged forward. Harry caught the man hard right below the sternum with a shoulder while he had both arms raised as he tried to hit Harry again with the long board he was swinging. Harry heard the man gasp as the air rushed from the man's lungs when his shoulder connected with his diaphragm. He then seized the man's hair with both hands, and pulled down hard as he brought his right knee up. As the man fell over unconscious, Harry noticed that Hermione was on top of one man punching him with all of her strength. On the other side stood the last attacker, still rubbing his eyes, but carrying a long stiletto blade. As Hermione got up with one last kick to her assailant's head that left him motionless, Harry moved towards her screaming a mental warning even as the remaining thief seized her from behind.

“One more step, and I swear, I'll cut her head off. Back off! Back off!” Hermione translated for Harry, her eyes wide with fright.

Harry raised his hands in defeat but his eyes blazed with anger. A wind sprang out of nowhere, blowing Hermione's hair into the eyes of the mugger. Distracted, he moved his knife hand away from her throat for a moment to clear his vision. The cool breeze blew a little cooler but also brought the smell of superheated metal and burning flesh. Screaming in pain, the final thug pushed Hermione to the ground as he dropped the knife and ran off, clutching his wrist and hand in unbearable agony.

“Mione! Are you OK?” Harry rushed to her side and helped her up.

“Yeah, I think I'll be fine. I just feel a little sick to my stomach right now. Are you OK?”

“I've had worse. I think I might be a little sore tomorrow, though.”

“That's why I brought my SAPs, Harry. For all of your little accidents,” she joked as she managed to crack a smile.

“Funny. Let me help you up. I think we should get headed before any of their friends show up. Come on, let's go.”

With her arm around his shoulder, and his around her side, Harry walked with her until she felt a little steadier. He kept turning his head this way and that, the adrenaline driving his senses to super sensitivity. Harry reckoned they were about halfway back to the hotel when he slipped his hand into the leather pouch at his side. “Can you keep walking another block or so without me?”

“What?”

“I think there is someone following us. I'm going to activate a Splittin' Image to keep walking with you while I wait for our friend in this alley. Will you be OK?”

“I guess, just be careful,” she replied uncertainly.

“Trust me.” Harry pulled out the small globe and put it in Hermione's hand as he disappeared into the background of the wall. Hermione and the illusion continued walking, while Harry waited for their stalker. The man was fast and very good, little more than a shadow. Harry recognized him as the wizard dressed in shabby grey robes from the tavern. Harry pulled another small object from his leather pouch and then shapeshifted into his dragonform. He flew silently behind the stalking shadow and then moved slightly above and behind him.

Suddenly the shadow paused and whipped his head around as if looking for something. Realizing the trick was up, Harry transformed again. As he fell back to the earth, he threw the object at the man's back. Incredibly, the man spun just as he released the small orb and Harry nearly missed him entirely. It grazed him on the side and then exploded into a mass of sticky webbing that trapped the man to the side of the wall. Hermione came running back as Harry stepped closer. Harry watched in amazement as the man slowly fought through the webbing. Realizing he would be free in moments, Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it right at the man's face.

Instead of showing fear, the man grinned. “Well done, Potter. I'm very impressed. That was an excellent illusion. And this webbing. Very clever.”

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” threatened Harry in a low voice.

“Ahh. It must have slipped his mind to mention me. Corlyn asked me to watch over Miss Granger. That is a very convincing Metamorphmagus transformation, by the way, but you must admit that the red hair would remind those looking for you of the Weasleys, even if it's not as bright as their hair. I presume this is the face you used on your passport where you are known as James Black? Cleverly done, but you realize of course that that name is not going to really fool anyone that wants to track you. Yes I know it has fooled the press for several weeks now, but then most of those reporters weren't too sharp to begin with, were they?”

“Who are you? And if you were sent to protect us, where the hell were you ten minutes ago when we were attacked in the alley?”

“Yes, well, my name is Aardus. And I deeply regret my tardiness in arriving,” A pained look crossed his face. “I am sorry I could not do more. I did not have a clear shot for a stunning spell at the attacker who threatened Miss Granger. But I am glad you were able to take advantage of the slight diversion I created to disarm him.” He paused and then asked, “Would you mind pointing that wand somewhere else besides in my face? It's becoming rather uncomfortable.”

Harry backed up a step and lowered his wand slightly, still unsure of the man barely held by the bonds of the web. He would have to discuss this with the twins. They swore the web created by the orb would be strong enough to hold a small dragon. But it had barely slowed down a single man. And who was this wizard who claimed to be their protector? Taking a chance, he quietly spoke the command word to dissolve the web. A moment later, the man stood quietly before them, looking from Hermione to Harry. Harry noticed blood on his hands and face and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, this? Well, I had a little chat with your friend from the alley. He won't be bothering you again.” Harry looked at his own hands and noticed that though there were flecks of blood on his knuckles, it was nowhere near the amount found on Aardus. Harry raised his wand again cautiously, aiming it at Aardus.

Aardus raised his hands again and suggested, “I suppose this attack could be a coincidence, but it also might have been an attempt to prevent you from succeeding in your task.”

“Task? We don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh, excellent. Clever, resourceful, and closemouthed. Yes, I can see why you two were so successful against Voldemort and why Corlyn thinks you may be able to help.”

“Well, we don't need any bloody bodyguards while we're here on vacation, so you're free to go. And don't follow us around anymore, we're fine on our own. You can tell our mutual friend thanks all the same. Now it's late and we're a bit tired, so if you'll excuse us, we'll be leaving now.” Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and led her away, back to the hotel. Aardus didn't seem insulted at all, simply calling out a cheerful sounding admonition to be careful before they were out of earshot. When they turned back to see if he was following them, he had disappeared.

Finally arriving at the hotel without further incident, Hermione gave Harry a final SAP to ease his aching back. In their separate rooms, they collapsed into a heavy slumber that lasted well into midmorning.

-->

Ch 5: Summoning the Council

As the fire's flames returned to normal, Dumbledore leaned back wearily deeper into his chair. There was no sound but the crackling of the fire and an occasional soft hiss as the logs burnt down into embers. Much later Dumbledore slowly raised himself from his seat and crossed the room to stand before a small portrait of a lion roaring in front of an emerald forest. He whispered softly then raised his hand to the portrait. His hand hovered there for a moment, then reached through the lion's mouth and passed right through the picture. When he pulled it back out, a thick leatherbound book was held in his grip. He returned to his desk and sat in his chair. As he flipped through the dusty pages, his shoulders slumped slightly.

At the end of the book, he closed it once again and removed his half moon spectacles, laying them gently on the top of the desk. For another moment, he sat quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Moving suddenly, he rose and replaced the book within the mouth of the lion. Pulling his hand back out, he waved it in a circle and whispered softly. He then swept aside one of the hanging tapestries that hung in front of the door to his private chambers and opened it.

Entering his bedroom, he strode quickly to a small trunk sitting under a long sidetable. Lifting it easily, he sat it on the table and withdrew his wand. Focusing intently, he waved it in a very complex, intricate pattern and then touched the wandtip to what appeared to be a broken lock and the lid opened by itself. Though there were several items within the trunk, Dumbledore removed only two. He pulled out a shimmering silver cloak and a small hoop made of a silvery metal. He placed the hoop in a small stand that allowed it to stand upright, like a table mirror. Dumbledore then threw the cloak over his shoulders and pulled the hood down over his face until it was covered in shadow. He pulled a chair to the table and sat down in front of the hoop. He reached out his hand towards the center of the hoop and extended his fingertips. His eyes looked intently at the hoop and he guided his fingers deftly over the thin, nearly invisible strings that crisscrossed each other within the hoop. As his fingers danced over the magical threads, there was no sound but instead there were small bursts of light which hovered in the air above the quivering strings.

Dumbledore spoke softly as the lights shimmered in the room. “Greetings, fellow members of the Council. I request an emergency meeting of the full Council in three days at our usual location. I apologize for the short notice I have given, but I feel it is critical that we meet quickly to discuss a recent development that has just been brought to my attention. Thank you, Septimus.”

Dumbledore's fingers continued to fly over the gossamer strands for several minutes as the light show continued. When he stopped, the light lingered for several minutes and then slowly faded away. Dumbledore replaced both the cloak and the metal hoop in the trunk and resealed it. Wearily, Dumbledore shuffled to his bed and laid down. However, sleep did not come quickly.

-----

The next morning, Dumbledore asked Minerva to take care of any important school related issues for the next week and indicated that he was not to be disturbed. Though a bit confused, she complied with his request. That day and the next two passed quickly as Dumbledore sat in his study, poring over various books and ancient scrolls. Late in the evening of the third day, Dumbledore once again opened the small little trunk and removed the silver cloak and a small silver key. Placing the cloak on his shoulders and pulling the hood over his face, Dumbledore picked up the silver key and spoke several words quietly.

Moments later and hundreds of miles away, Dumbledore stood still for a moment to regain his equilibrium from the portkey trip. Feeling better, he walked towards what appeared to be an old abandoned grist mill by the side of a creek. Laying his hand on the side of the doorway, his fingers tapped out a curious rhythm and then repeated it twice more in slightly altered form. As he stepped under the partially collapsed beam of the doorway, his view suddenly changed and he found himself in a large entryway. He walked briskly down the hall to the open double doors and entered the room.

He glanced quickly around the large table and saw five other figures in silver robes. The quiet discussions they had been holding stopped as soon as he entered. He moved to his place and sat without speaking to anyone else. Instead, he simply observed them in the awkward silence that continued. It did not last long, however, since a few minutes later, another silver cloaked wizard strode through the door. At his entrance, everyone else moved to their seats. The last member to arrive stood and announced, “Welcome. Since Septimus has called this meeting, I will let him direct it as he sees fit. Septimus?”

“Thank you Primus,” spoke Dumbledore as he arose from his chair. “As you all know, this secret Council exists to protect the world from magical threats of the most dangerous nature, such as that most recently posed by Voldemort. But one of our greatest fears has always been that some of the surviving artifacts from Atlantis might eventually be rediscovered. This council has existed since the fall of that mighty city changed the world of magic as our ancestors knew it. It has summoned the mightiest wizards and witches from the magical world and extracted from them an oath to protect the world from another Atlantean catastrophe. This council is so secret, that I, who was chosen last among all of you, do not know the identity of any of you. Only you, Primus, having served the longest of those here, know the true identities of the rest of us. In fulfilling that oath, we are allowed, nay, encouraged, to use any and all means at our disposal in order to prevent a repetition of those events.”

A voice from across the table interrupted. “If we could finish with the history lesson, Septimus, what is your point? Why did you summon us here?”

“I was just getting to that, Secondus. As you all know, one of my greatest tasks has been watching over the young wizard named Harry Potter.”

“Yes, and what a fiasco you've made of that. Abused for ten years by those damned Muggles and completely ignorant of the wizarding world until he was eleven. Then he nearly got himself killed nearly every year he went to Hogwarts. He should have been trained with us. We could have tracked down and defeated Voldemort much more quickly had we done so. How he ever learned enough to survive that final battle with Voldemort, let alone defeat him, remains one of the greatest pieces of luck I've ever encountered. No, we should have handled his training.”

“But at what cost to Harry? I wish there had been some more humane relatives with whom we could have placed him instead of the Dursleys, but there were none. I believe his experiences there and at Hogwarts were the ones that made him strong enough to defeat Voldemort—it was the friendship and love he developed through those trying experiences that allowed him to defeat Voldemort, not his extensive training or incredible power that allowed him to emerge victorious, and gave him hope of enjoying some kind of life afterwards.”

“I don't care about his life afterwards. We could have destroyed Voldemort earlier and perhaps saved other lives as well.”

“And that has always been one of the greatest differences between you and I, Secundus. I don't think we could have trained him to defeat Voldemort. And I never saw Harry simply as a tool to defeat Voldemort. I saw him as a boy with a terrible destiny laid upon him. And I know that I went against the wishes of many on this council in treating him the way I did, but I never apologized then, and I will not do so now.”

Primus then interrupted both of them. “Secundus, what is done is done. There is no need to continue bringing up this old debate. Yes, Septimus may have gone against the wishes of this council, but he chose his own method, as can we all. And in the end, Voldemort was defeated. That is what mattered the most. Please continue, Septimus.”

“Thank you. Three days ago, Harry Potter and a close friend of his, Hermione Granger, told me of a very strange experience they had while visiting the Acropolis in Athens. It seems a wizard in a grey robe with a shadowed hood who called himself Corlyn approached them and spoke with them. During the course of the conversation, he all but invited them to look for a lost artifact from Atlantis in order to destroy it before it fell into the wrong hands. This figure indicated that he knew me and had worked with me on a council similar to the Order of the Phoenix. The shadowed figure may even have been referring to this council itself.”

The room exploded in a babble of voices. Finally, Primus raised his arms and restored order. Secundus hissed at Septimus, “Are you accusing one of us of betraying their oath by telling others about the artifacts of Atlantis? Of betraying everything we hold dear and would give our lives in defending?”

“No, I do not believe it was one of the members present. I have worked with a man named Corlyn in the past, but if this was in fact the same Corlyn, why he didn't come directly to me, I do not know. Perhaps it was too dangerous for him to do so.” As the other six started to speak, Dumbledore raised his hand. “The Corlyn I know provided very useful information in the war against Voldemort, so I have little reason to distrust him. And if the vague hints which he gave Harry and Hermione are true, then somebody is seeking one of the Atlantean artifacts.”

Discussions broke out again as Dumbldore finished speaking.

Interrupting the chaos, Dumbledore continued. “I have a question that only Primus may be able to answer. When I was invited to join the Council, I was under the impression that you served until death. But have there been occasions where someone has been too badly wounded to continue serving on the Council, or disappeared on a mission and been replaced? Has anyone ever been removed from the Council for any other reason?” There was a deep silence as six pairs of eyes turned to look at Primus, but Septimus continued. “The reason I ask is that Corlyn, by dressing the way he was, may have been trying to send a message. Perhaps whoever is seeking the artifact from Atlantis captured a former member of the Council. Or worse, perhaps the person we seek was a former member of the Council.”

Voices erupted again in pandemonium at Dumbledore's words.

“This is very disturbing news Septimus. As to your earlier question the answer is yes, there have been people removed from the Council for other reasons besides death. I will personally investigate those who remain alive. Septimus, continue to keep a close watch upon your young charge. There may be more things required of him in the future. What will you counsel them to do?”

“I fear my counsel may not move them much one way or the other. Both Mr. Potter and Miss Granger have a tendency to make up their minds on their own and act accordingly. It would appear that they have already decided to pursue the task despite my concern for their safety.”

“Well, good. Maybe they can help us discover and defeat this mysterious group.”

“Secundus, that is of less concern to me than their safety.”

“Bah! You've always been too soft about these things. There are higher stakes at risk. You should understand this.”

“I do, only too well. But the magical world has already asked so much of these two. When will it be enough? But do not worry too much. I have already told you that I doubt they will heed my advice. Knowing them as I do, they will do everything in their power to recover the item and to destroy it if it poses a great danger to the world. Though I do not like the idea, I will offer them my complete cooperation—as much as my oath will allow.”

“Excellent, Septimus. Is there any other news of importance that we should discuss while we are here? If not, then…”

“What about the prophecy? It could be related to this. It has been foretold that after the defeat of the mighty dark one that a queen of death would arise to take his place,” interrupted Quintus.

“Not the Dark Queen of doom and gloom prophecy again,” laughed Primus. “You went on and on about that first after Grindelwald was defeated, and then after Voldemort was defeated the first time.”

“And the only reason it didn't come to pass then was because Voldemort hadn't really been defeated. But now he has and I'm warning you that the prophecy will come true,” insisted Quintus.

“What prophecy is this?” asked Dumbledore. “I have never heard of it.”

“I thought you did not put much stock in prophecies, Septimus,” chuckled Primus.

“Well, normally I do not, but…” replied Dumbledore.

“Well, then do not worry about this one. Quintus and I have discussed it at great length, and we have decided it is like the vast majority of prophecies—vague, misleading, and useless,” answered Primus.

“Maybe you've decided,” mumbled Quintus.

With a scathing glance towards Quintus, Primus continued in a somewhat angry tone, “Now if there are no more important matters to discuss, we stand adjourned.”

Primus and Quintus left immediately, giving Dumbledore no opportunity to speak more with either of them, but the rest sat and talked quietly for quite some time afterwards. Though Dumbledore was involved in many of the conversations, he actually said very little, preferring instead to listen and observe his colleagues. It was quite early in the morning by the time he returned to Hogwarts and he fell into his bed quite exhausted.

-----

For a week after their visit with Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione continued to enjoy the sights of Athens, though Hermione's mother could tell the two teens were sometimes a bit distracted. When asked about it, they both denied anything was going on which she seemed to accept, but didn't really believe. In the evenings, Harry would summon various books on Atlantis from the Hogwarts' library and they would carefully read through them and take notes.

One night after several hours of reading, Hermione threw up her hands in disgust. “It's just one misleading myth after another Harry! Sometimes it seems like all these authors are talking about three hundred different events. There aren't enough overlapping details for me to say for sure whether any of them are anywhere near the truth. For example, this historian insists that groups of magical humans fled Atlantis and settled on the isles of Great Britain. Another claims they fled to South America. This one claims that the pyramids of Egypt and Mexico were ancient outposts of the Atlantean civilization. This one claims that Atlantis was destroyed by a magical spell gone horribly wrong, while this one argues that it was simply a natural catastrophe. And don't even get me started on the different places they claim as the original site of Atlantis. This is so maddening!”

“Well, maybe they are all right. Or all of them have bits of truth in them.”

“How can they all be right, Harry?”

“I don't know. But we'll figure it out. And when I say we, I really mean you. After all, you're the one with the intellect and the adaptable and agile mind. I've just got my courage and valor. And that annoying save-the-world-and-play-the-hero impulse that always gets me into trouble.”

“Are you still letting what he said bother you, Harry?”

“Well, yeah. I would like to get noticed for more than just my rugged good looks, my snitch catching ability, and my incredibly beautiful girlfriend, but I guess you can't have it all.”

“Oh quit whining and give me a kiss,” laughed Hermione. Harry eagerly obeyed, and then Hermione chuckled at Harry's face when she pulled back a few moments later.

“Harry, we need to get back to these books.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled sourly. “Have you found anything that mentioned what kind of artifacts we might be looking for or what they might be able to do?”

“Some sources have said it had the power to call down fire from the heavens, or that it could transport people and items halfway across the world, or it allowed the Atlanteans to control the minds of other races. One even said it could raise the dead.”

Harry blinked. “Did you say raise the dead?”

Hermione looked over and then started as she saw Harry's face. “Yeah, why?”

“Think about it. What group of people would be very interested in raising the dead right about now?”

“Well, the Death Eaters are probably at the top of the list…” murmured Hermione, “but we don't even know if it does that Harry. It could…”

“It doesn't really matter. We can't let anything like that fall into their hands,” finished Harry grimly as he opened another book.

-----

The evening they were supposed to meet with Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione explained to her parents they were going to go try the new restaurant one of the tour guides had been talking about. They took a taxi to the street before The Crooked Staff and walked the rest of the way. They were still a half an hour early so they went in and ordered some dinner. Dumbledore had been right—the food was excellent. None of the other patrons paid them any attention. When they were finished eating, the owner, who looked at them curiously, approached and said in a low whisper, “Follow me upstairs. Your friend is waiting for you.”

Harry looked at him suspiciously and asked, “Which friend?”

With a quick glance around the room, the tavern owner leaned closer and replied in an almost inaudible tone, “Dumbledore. Come with me now. Don't worry about paying for the meal.”

Hiding their surprise, both Harry and Hermione rose to follow him upstairs. At the end of the hallway, they entered a brightly lit room after the tavern owner opened the door. They heard Dumbledore speak from a comfortable chair by the fireplace at the far side of the room.

“Thank you Laeconius, for taking care of my young friends.”

“I wish I had known they were friends of yours, I could have helped them get home safely on their last visit. It was very late and the streets around here can be dangerous. In fact Albus, I cannot tell you how glad I was to learn that the two of them reached their hotel safely that evening. There were five extremely brutal murders that very night not far from here. The city has been in an uproar about it. Even the Greek Ministry of Magic has Aurors looking into it.”

Dumbledore rose from his chair with concern evident in his face. With a quick warning glance at Hermione, Harry asked quietly, “How were they killed?”

“Well, that's the thing that has everyone so upset. All five of them had criminal records—mostly theft, assault and battery—that sort of thing. Most people I've spoken with assume that the five of them just picked the wrong victim. What they believe to have happened is that the five of them intended to rob the victim when he turned the tables on them. But this is the part that really scares everybody. He appears to have beaten them all into submission, there appears to have been no need to kill them—he could have just walked away. Four of the bodies were found in the same alley. But the fifth was found nearly five blocks away.”

The eyes of Harry and Hermione widened at this. Laeconius continued, glancing now at the two teenagers. “Three of them had been beaten by someone who knew how to fight, someone who had been well trained—there were no wasted punches, and all of the blows were to vital areas. The fourth wasn't beaten as severely or as efficiently, but was still effectively taken out of the fight. Some think there might have been two victims who were initially attacked, based on the different fighting styles. Anyways, all four were probably unconscious and defenseless when they were killed.” With a strange look on his face, Laeconius looked at Harry and Hermione more closely.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Harry repeated his earlier question. “Yes, but how were they killed? And what about the fifth man?”

“Yes, well, it uhh—it seemed as if some sort of wild animal had ripped out their throats.” Hermione turned away with a hand covering her mouth. Harry's eyes bored into Laeconius, “And the fifth?”

“Like I said, he was found nearly five blocks away with his throat torn out as well. He was very badly beaten and looked like he had tried to fight off his attacker, though. And one of his hands was severely burned.”

Dumbledore asked quietly, “Why is the Greek Ministry of Magic involved? Were any of the victims wizards? Or do they believe those who killed them were wizards?”

“They believe there may have been magic used in the attacks. Though there were no eyewitnesses to the actual attacks, there were reports of a bright blinding flash about the time of the deaths. Also, the fifth victim had a rather nasty burn in his palm that matched the pattern of a knife hilt found with the other four bodies. But nobody can explain how the knife got so hot so quickly to burn his palm like that. Most ominously, there were traces of Dark Magic. Unfortunately, there was not enough to positively identify the magical aura of any of the casters. They used either very powerful concealing charms or wandless magic, or they possessed natural magical abilities. The Ministry is very concerned about these murders.”

“Would you care to share any other observations, Laeconius?”

Laeconius glanced briefly at Harry and Hermione before replying. “I think there were two victims who fought only to defend themselves against the five attackers. I think that they disabled four of the attackers, and the fifth ran away. I think a third individual killed the four unconscious would-be thieves and tracked down and killed the fifth. But what the motive might have been for the murders, I haven't got a clue.”

“How do you know so much about these murders?” asked Hermione. “We heard about them a couple days ago at the hotel and were warned against visiting this part of the city, but nobody seemed to know any of the details you've shared with us tonight.”

“Ahh. Perhaps I will share my secrets if you and your young red-haired friend will share yours,” chuckled Laeconius.

“I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we have no secrets. We're just two normal students on summer vacation who hope to graduate next year …” started Harry.

“Who receive secret, personal visits from one of the most powerful wizards in the world while on vacation? I hardly doubt either of you is ordinary or common.”

“No, they are not. In fact, they are two of the finest students who have ever attended Hogwarts.” Dumbledore paused momentarily while Hermione looked at him and silently informed him that she and Harry had been attacked by the five but had left them alive. Looking back at Laeconius, he spoke again. “But these murders trouble me greatly. In fact, I believe it is a good thing that you are here with us now, Laeconius. These two might be able to help you in your investigation.”

Both Harry and Hermione looked at Dumbledore sharply. However, Dumbledore was looking at Laeconius and asked, “May I?”

Seeing Laeconius nod slightly, Dumbledore continued. “Laeconius is an Auror for the Greek Ministry—one of their best. Though officially retired, he still helps them out occasionally. I have known Laeconius a long time. You can trust him.”

“Now that you know my secret, perhaps I can guess one of your secrets.” Smiling slightly, Laeconius bowed slightly towards Hermione and said, “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Granger.” Hermione was shocked as Laeconius turned to Harry. “And I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter. I have heard a great deal about the two of you.”

Harry's mouth dropped open and he shut it quickly. “I'm not…” he began to deny but realized that Laeconius would not be fooled any longer, “how did you know?”

“Well, it was not really that difficult. I began to suspect something as soon as I learned that Dumbledore would be coming here to visit with two of his students and that it needed to be kept quiet. And when he mentioned that you might be of help in the murder investigation, I realized for certain who you were. There are only a few wizards and witches your age that might have survived the murder scenes I inspected—either as intended victims or witnesses. And there is only one young wizard that I am aware of that could cast a wandless light charm as strongly as was described or cause a knife to heat so quickly that it seared itself into a man's palm without any sign of a spell at all. The red hair is a nice touch, but now that I think about it, it does remind me of your other friend, Mr. Weasley. I would have guessed your identities much earlier, but those terrible photos that continually appear in the papers scarcely do you justice, Miss Granger. You are much more beautiful in person.”

Hermione blushed bright red while Harry tried to fight off a smile. “You know, you're the third person that's told me this is a terrible disguise.” Harry's face tightened and his smile faded. He looked quickly at Dumbledore and then continued. “In fact, I think you might want to talk to this other guy about these murders.” Harry recounted their encounter with the thieves and their later meeting with Aardus. Dumbledore and Laeconius waited until he was finished before asking additional questions. Laeconius seemed very impressed and both seemed very anxious to know more about Aardus. After Harry repeated again all the details he could remember about Aardus, the four sat quietly in thought.

Dumbledore asked Harry for one of the web spheres that he had used. “Fred and George call it the Webstopper. It's one of their latest inventions. If you ask me, it still needs some work. It barely stopped him. Another few seconds and he would have broken free,” added Harry. Dumbledore just looked thoughtfully at Harry as he twirled the globe in his fingers.

Laeconius spoke then. “I understand Dumbledore wished to discuss some other things with you, so I will leave you alone. I would like to write a statement based on what you two have just told me, so that it can be used in the investigation. Would that be acceptable?” He looked first at the two teens, and then all three looked towards Dumbledore.

“I do not see any harm in it, but I trust you will be discreet,” replied Dumbledore. Hermione and Harry both nodded their assent.

“Excellent. I will go write them up and bring them back for you to sign later.”

“Umm, Laeconius, sir? I have a question.”

“Go ahead Mr. Potter.”

“Why do you believe us? What good will the signed statement do? Don't you need to use Veritaserum or something to know if we're telling the truth?”

Laeconius only chuckled. “Well, Veritaserum is fine and good for determining the truth once you've apprehended a suspect and the situation is completely under control. But for most Aurors in the field, there simply isn't time to use a potion like that. No, there are some other spells and techniques that we use that are nearly as reliable as Veritaserum.”

“Nearly as reliable?” protested Hermione. “But don't you need to be sure?”

“Not even Veritaserum is perfect. The questioner can ask the wrong sort of questions, the person being interviewed can be under the influence of another powerful spell, or believe in their version of reality so strongly that they are no longer able to retell the true chain of events.”

“But what about these other spells and techniques you mentioned? I've never read about any of them.”

“No, Miss Granger, I doubt you would have. Surely you realize by now that there are many types of knowledge that escape the written page. History records only a fraction of the reality that has existed—sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose. The spells and techniques I spoke of would only be learned by an Auror through the training they receive from another Auror.”

Hermione's eyes widened in thought but she remained silent as she thought about the implications. Harry looked up suddenly at Laeconius.

“These alternative methods you use, do they enhance your ability to distinguish between truth and falsehood or do they interact with the target somehow?”

“A good question. There are methods that can do either. Why do you ask?”

“I was just trying to figure out how you knew we were telling the truth.”

“And what do you think?” Laeconius leaned forward as he looked at Harry.

“I think you only used a method or two to enhance your own ability,” responded Harry thoughtfully.

“And why do you say that?”

“Because I think I would have noticed if you had cast some sort of spell on me. At least a powerful spell.”

“Really. That's very interesting.” Laeconius looked quickly at Dumbledore and then smiled. “You are correct Mr. Potter. I did not try to use any methods which might have possibly alerted you to what I was doing. Based on what I have heard of your exploits, I suspected that that you were both sensitive and resistant to mind altering spells. Indeed, a quick scan of my own indicated that both you and Miss Granger possess very powerful mental defenses. In such a case, it is always better to avoid any possible chance that the target may learn that they are being evaluated. I am sure you have both heard this before, but you would both make excellent Aurors. Now unless there are any further questions, I will leave the three of you alone.” He rose and walked quickly and quietly to the door, leaving the three to look at each other.

Before Harry or Hermione could open their mouth to ask a question, Dumbledore had pulled out a large stone bowl from a large sack by the side of his table. “If you do not mind, I feel as if I need to order my thoughts for a moment.” They watched as he drew his wand and slowly massaged his temple. Pulling out a small wisp of white, he placed it gently in the bowl. He repeated the process for several minutes while Hermione and Harry watched quietly with growing curiosity.

With a look of satisfaction on his face, Dumbledore pushed his chair back from the table. “There, I feel much better now. Before either of you ask, I apologize, but after a week of research I have discovered nothing I can tell you. I am truly sorry.” They weren't sure, but he seemed to wink before continuing. “Did you try the soup? I seem to remember that they made the most excellent fish stew here. If you will excuse me for a few minutes, I believe I will go downstairs and have a bowl and check in on Laeconius. I should be back in about fifteen minutes or so.” Without another word, Dumbledore walked to the door and let himself out.

“What on earth is going on?!?!” exploded Harry, staring in amazement at the Pensieve lying on the table. “A week of research and nothing to tell us?”

Hermione looked thoughtful for a minute and then replied, “No, he didn't say he had nothing to tell us. He said there was nothing he could tell us.”

Harry's brow furrowed in thought for a moment. “Do you think that's why he left the Pensieve?”

“Only one way to find out,” smiled Hermione. “But if we get in trouble…”

“I know, it's my fault,” finished Harry. “Come on then,” and he stretched out his hand for Hermione and together they peered into the Pensieve. First they found themselves reading over his shoulder in what they guessed was his private room at Hogwarts. Later, they found themselves walking beside Dumbledore to the run down mill and entering the meeting of the secret Council.

Five minutes after they had left the Pensieve they still sat in silence, trying to come to grips with the information they had just gained from Dumbledore's meeting.

“So, what do you make of all that, Mione?”

“Well, if Dumbledore's sources are better than the ones we've been looking at, at least we can eliminate some of the stranger myths.”

“What about the meeting of that secret council?”

“I don't even know where to begin. Did you recognize anybody there?”

“No. I thought it might be one of the members, but I couldn't tell for sure. It sounds like the one named Primus will check out the others.”

“Do you think he will get into trouble for telling us?”

“Dumbledore didn't tell us anything. He forgot to empty his Pensieve and we found out for ourselves.”

“I don't know Harry…”

“Well, those guys seem to be operating with very few rules. And the few they have, they seem to be willing to break, if they think it's for the greater good. Besides, I don't care what they think—none of them seemed too concerned about me, except for Dumbledore.”

There was a knock at the door and Dumbledore slowly opened the door, followed by Laeconius. Laeconius placed a long scroll on the table and placed a feathered quill nearby. Hermione picked up the scroll and quickly read through it. She offered it to Harry who held up his hand with a laugh. “If you've read it and approve of it, that's good enough for me.” At a nod from Laeconius, they each signed their name below the statement.

“Thank you. I will keep you posted on how the investigation is proceeding and if we're able to find this Aardus. If we do, we might need you to testify—this statement would not be enough in a wizard court.”

“Well, we hope it helps you find the murderer. If there is anything else you need, please let us know,” offered Harry.

“Have a good evening. Let me know if you would like an escort to your hotel.”

Harry nodded and thanked him for the offer. After he left the room, Harry and Hermione waited to see what other surprises Dumbledore might have in store for them.

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Ch 6: The Oath of Gryffindor

Dumbledore sat at the table and retrieved his memories from the Pensieve while Harry and Hermione watched quietly. Placing the Pensieve back in the large bag, Dumbledore looked at Harry thoughtfully and spoke.

“Once again, I wish to apologize for not being able to offer more information. I imagine by now that your knowledge of the legends and myths of Atlantis is about the same as mine. I have only read what some Muggles such as Plato have written and what a few of our own wizards and witches have recorded about it. Nor have I studied much about prophecies—out of the thousands I have read, I have only seen a mere handful come to pass.”

“What do you think, Mione?”

“I think if he had any other clues to give us, he would have put them in the Pensieve for us to see. I don't think he knows anything else about Atlantis or the prophecy that might be of use.”

“There is something else of grave importance that I must discuss with you Harry. Professor McGonagall and I have discussed your desire to become an Auror. Do you still wish to follow that path?”

Harry quickly replied, “Of course I do. Why do you ask?”

“Do not be so hasty in answering, Harry. You originally made that decision while the threat of Voldemort still loomed. He has been defeated now and you could become anything you wanted—a Quidditch star, a flying instructor, a professor of DADA,” Dumbledore's eyes glinted mischievously, “or even a politician. Have you given much thought to your future beyond Hogwarts? You could pursue any career you desire.”

“Well, I know that whatever I do, I want to do it with Hermione.” Harry smiled and squeezed her hand as she moved closer to him.

“That is another reason why I ask. I imagine it was extremely difficult for you to pursue the task of defeating Voldemort with the constant fear that your actions might bring harm to one of your friends or those close to you.” Dumbledore paused while Harry's face tightened and Hermione gently rubbed his shoulder to calm him down. “I do not wish to cause you pain, Harry, only to help you realize that if you do want to become an Auror and also be with Hermione, it may place her in jeopardy for the rest of your life. It may also jeopardize any future family you might have together.” Hermione noticed that Dumbledore's eyes looked incredibly sad for a moment and she sensed a flicker of terrible heartache and loss which he quickly hid.

“Don't you think I know that?!?! Don't you think I thought about the danger I brought to my friends every single day I was training?” exploded Harry.

“So you no longer think about it?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry looked at him for a minute and then glanced at Hermione before replying. “It used to terrify me. I was always afraid of making another mistake like I did with Sirius. But during the final confrontation with Voldemort, I saw him and both of my parents. They seemed to be OK. They even seemed happy. It made me realize that there are worse things to be afraid of than death—like being afraid of living. If I let the fear of losing Hermione or any of my friends to death prevent me from enjoying life, then what kind of life would I have? Not much of one. Don't get me wrong—I don't want to lose anyone. I would rather die than let that happen, but I won't let that fear paralyze me either or take the joy from my life.”

“Once again I am deeply impressed with the wisdom you have managed to acquire at such a young age, Harry. Very few people fully understand how our life here is merely one stage of a much longer journey. Though we all wish to enjoy it for as long as possible, once we reach the end of the road in this life, it is merely to take up a new path in the next world. And as you have already witnessed for yourself, it is a world full of friends and family, not a solitary trek. I find that very comforting.”

Dumbledore's eyes continued to bore into Harry's, as if looking for confirmation of something. Dipping his head slightly, he continued. “I have something for you Harry, something I probably should have given you quite some time ago. And had I known more of your plans last year, I certainly would have done so.” Reaching down into the bag again, he pulled out a silver sword with rubies inlaid in the hilt. Harry watched quietly as Dumbledore slowly laid the sword on the table, then reached down again and pulled out a short, plain leather sheath hung on a black belt. Harry's eyebrows raised questioningly as he glanced at the items resting on the table.

Harry stepped closer and looked in admiration at the sword resting on the table and passed his hand slowly over the sword again admiring its beautiful craftmanship. “Drughaig Bior de Argid,” he thought in silent respect, having learned a little more about the history of the famous sword amidst his other studies last year.

“The Silver Rose Thorn,” whispered Hermione softly. “The sword of Godric Gryffindor.”

Harry's hand reached down to grasp the hilt before Dumbledore's voice stopped him. “Harry. If you know the true name of the sword, then you know you cannot simply take it up—not this time at least. It served you well during your encounter with the basilisk and came when you called for it. But if you wish to wield it again, you are now old enough to accept the burden that its bearers have always shouldered—to spend your life defending the weak from the strong, protecting the good from the wicked, and combating evil in whatever shape or form you find it. You will be a protector of both the muggle and wizarding world. It is a heavy burden for anyone to carry, but one you have borne before Harry. However, this time, it is yours to take up only if you choose to do so. The choice is yours Harry. Take all the time you need to think about it.”

“I beg your pardon, sir, but what is there to think about? I did not have to carry my earlier burden. True, I did not choose to take it upon myself, but I could have dropped it at anytime. I could have fled and denied my destiny. But then how many innocent people would have had to die for my selfish choice? How many years would have passed before Voldemort tracked me to whatever far corner of the earth I had hidden myself? Is this choice any different? For whatever reason, I have been blessed with wonderful friends, wise counselors, and tremendous magical powers that even I fail to fully comprehend yet. How would I be able to live with myself knowing that I might have been able to prevent some future tragedy had I chosen to become an Auror and continued in the fight against evil instead of becoming a Quidditch star or simply retiring from the magical world to live off my inheritance?”

“Harry, I do not want you to feel pressured to make a decision out of a sense of guilt or obligation to the magical world. You have done more than enough—you have earned your rest.”

“And how could I rest knowing I might be able to do more—that there might be others I could help? The battle against evil will continue, will it not? Tell me sir, did you not earn your rest after you defeated Grindelwald? Did you not continue battling evil, leading the fight against Voldemort, knowing that you would never be able to completely defeat him, but might easily perish in the fight?” Harry's glance bore directly into Dumbledore's. “I assure you sir, there is a part of me that wants nothing more than to become a professional Quidditch seeker and face nothing more dangerous than speeding bludgers. But I have greater gifts than that, gifts that can be of greater service to the world than my snitch-catching skills. I admit I feel a sense of duty and pressure, but it's more than that sir. And I know I will continue to feel guilt occasionally, just as I fully realize I cannot save the entire world. I have seen too many battles to naively believe that good always triumphs and that there are never losses or sacrifices that have to be made to obtain victory. But I also know that unless I fight, unless I use my skills to help others and fight against the dark, evil forces that will always try to destroy our world and everything and everyone we love, I would never be able to live with myself. If I can make the world a better place, a little safer place, then I will do it. And we both know that even with Voldemort's defeat, there will be others trying to take his place. And they have to be confronted. I want to be one of those helping defend those who can't defend themselves. I have to be. I can't imagine doing anything else sir.”

Dumbledore rose from the table to stand beside Harry and laid a hand upon Harry's shoulder. “Harry, I could not be more proud of you if you were my own son. I am sure your parents would be very proud to see the young man I see before me. Hermione, if you would be so kind as to assist me with the ceremony, I will pass on to Harry the Sword of Godric Gryffindor and the legacy that accompanies it. Dumbledore briefly explained the ceremony and oath to both Harry and Hermione who nodded in understanding.

Standing beside Hermione, Dumbledore began. “As the current wielder of Drughaig Bior de Argid, the Sword of Godric Griffyndor, I invite you to take up his sword in the fight against evil and the defense of all those who are in need of your aid. Do you accept this charge?”

Watching Dumbledore closely, Harry glanced briefly at Hermione's brightly smiling face before returning his gaze to Dumbledore and nodded while responding, “I accept the charge you offer.”

Dumbledore inclined his head towards Hermione, who then approached Harry while lifting the sheath and belt she held in her hands. She wrapped the belt around his waist and fastened it with the sheath hanging from his left hip. Before she pulled away, she leaned in and gave Harry a quick kiss and whispered, “I am so proud of you Harry.” She then stepped back by Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stood forward and lifted the gleaming sword high above his head. “Behold Drughaig Bior de Argid, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, bane of dark wizards and evil creatures everywhere. May its light forever shine brightly upon the foes of all that is good and just. May the hand that bears it do so in strength and virtue.” The words rolled like thunder. The sword itself seemed to gather light from the fireplace and candles and began to glow in Dumbledore's hand. For a brief moment, Harry thought he could glimpse back in time as perhaps a dozen young wizards before him went through the same ceremony, making the same oath he was about to swear, preparing to go forth and conquer the evil that threatened their own time. Dumbledore swung the sword around to rest its point in the floor with his hand resting lightly on the pommel. As he did so, Harry bent his right knee to the floor and grasped the sword right below the crosspiece with his right hand.

With his head bowed, Harry repeated the oath he had just learned from Dumbledore a few minutes before. “I, Harry James Potter, give my oath as a wizard that as a wielder of Drughaig Bior de Argid, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, I will spend my life fighting those who threaten the people of both the magical and muggle worlds. I will defend those who cannot defend themselves. I will assist those who need my help. I will support those who combat evil, but will oppose evil all alone if none will stand with me. I pledge my strength, my magic, my very life to the defense of all that is good and the defeat of all that is evil. And I, Harry James Potter, make this wizard's oath of my own free choice, come what may.” As Harry recited the oath, his voice grew stronger and his grip on the sword tightened. Blood dripped from his white knuckles slowly down the blade as his eyes rose to meet those of Dumbledore. Electricity seemed to spark in the air as their gazes met. Harry met Dumbledore's gaze for a long moment after he finished the last phrase, then his eyes flashed towards Hermione. “My dear lady Hermione, I, Harry James Potter, give my oath as a wizard to serve forever as your protector and defender. Likewise do I pledge to do all within my power to make your life as full of joy and happiness as possible. My heart, my magic, my love, my life, my very soul are yours to command.”

Dumbledore's eyes widened in amazement as Harry added to the customary oath, but then his jaw nearly dropped in awe at Hermione's reaction. She stepped near to where Harry was kneeling and then she lowered her right knee to the floor, nearly touching Harry's. She gripped the bloody sword blade just below Harry's hand and squeezed tightly. “My dear lord Harry, I, Hermione Jane Granger, give my oath as a witch to serve forever as your protector and defender. I swear to stand by you always in your efforts to defend all that is good and fight against evil—you will never need to stand alone. Likewise do I pledge to do all within my power to make your life as full of joy and happiness as possible. My intellect, my magic, my love, my life, my very soul are yours to command.” She gazed directly into Harry's eyes as tears slowly worked their way down both of their faces. The bloody sword in their grasp glowed a bright silver and the large ruby in the pommel under Dumbledore's palm radiated a bright red flash of light. Hermione removed her hand, and ran her left forefinger over a faint white scar across her right palm that still felt vaguely warm. Harry reached up and grabbed the hilt as Dumbledore released the sword. Harry lifted it and stared at it in awe as the red and silver auras radiating from the blade slowly diminished. There was no trace of either his or Hermione's blood now on the blade itself.

“I continue to be deeply impressed, Master Dumbledore. I wish thou wouldst have presented me to Harry before last spring, I desired greatly to aid in the defeat of the treacherous Death Eaters. And thou knew well my great desire to spill the blood of Lord Voldemort himself.”

“Yes, Saldar, I know. But you are also aware of the reasons why I did not. Perhaps I made another error in judgment.”

Both Harry and Hermione looked first at the sword that Harry still held aloft, then at Dumbledore with increasing shock. “Umm, sir? Did I just hear the sword speaking to you telepathically?” stammered Hermione.

It was Dumbledore's turn to look shocked, but he recovered much more quickly than either of the two teenagers. “Did you hear what he just said to me?” When she nodded affirmatively, he repeated the question to Harry. Harry nodded yes as well. “Saldar. What is the meaning of this? As far as I know, you have never been mentally linked to more than two people at once. And you have never had more than one wielder at a time.”

“That is true, Master Dumbledore. But these two are a remarkable young pair. They are full of power and potential. I intend to train both to be able to wield me and use my powers.”

“Sir, if this sword can think and speak for itself, doesn't that make it a sentient sword?” asked Harry.

“And aren't all sentient swords creations of evil?” added Hermione. Both looked in horror at the sword in Harry's hand.

“I am afraid that thou art only partially correct, my clever young mistress. It is true that the creation of a sentient sword requires spells of the darkest nature because it involves the binding of a living soul to a magical but lifeless weapon. However, I am not evil. Being sentient and possessed of free will, I canst still make my own choices and choose those who wish to wield me and access my powers. That is something my creator forgot.”

“Then Godric did not create you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then who did?” continued Hermione.

This time Saldar was silent. Dumbledore coughed and said, “It is a very painful story, Hermione. And I will leave it up to Saldar to share it with you when he feels the time is right. But rest assured, neither of you have anything to fear from Saldar—except his training regimen.”

“I am terribly sorry, Saldar. I did not mean to pry. I was just…”

“Curious,” prompted Harry with a smile. “Eternally and constantly curious.”

Hermione glared at him and then smiled. “Yes, he's right. But what was this about training?” Harry and Dumbledore quickly hid their grins.

“I will be in charge of training thy physical fighting skills, Mistress Granger. Thine and Master Potter's.”

“I don't mean to be rude, but how exactly are you going to do that? You don't exactly have a body that can train with us or spar against us.”

“No, I have other methods. Whilst thou art asleep, I can train and condition your nerves and muscles, honing your physical reflexes and teaching them to respond to stimuli and execute movements that would otherwise take thee years to learn.”

“That doesn't sound too bad,” smiled Hermione. “I think I can handle training while I sleep.”

“Excellent, because once thou art awake, ye both shall give me two hours a day of intensive conditioning and sparring practice.”

“But I thought you just said that you could do that while we were asleep,” complained Hermione.

“That is but the beginning. Thou wilt still need to train while thou art conscious. Though I canst teach your body how to react, ye both must train yourselves how to fight. Ye must learn how to move beyond reaction and move to anticipation. I canst accelerate the teaching of the basics, but both ye and Master Potter must each develop thine own unique style.”

“I don't mean to complain Saldar, but how are we supposed to fit in an extra two hours of training every day?” asked Harry.

“Do not worry your minds about that. One of the first skills I shall teach thee is how to master thy body in such a way as to function perfectly fine on much less sleep than eight hours a day.”

Harry smiled. Hermione eagerly asked, “How much less sleep?”

“Well, I believe Master Dumbledore was down to about one hour a day, when he had great tasks to perform. Why dost thou ask?”

Dumbledore responded with a chuckle “I believe the young lady simply wants to know how many more hours of reading and studying she can fit into a single day.” Harry laughed and Hermione simply smiled.

Harry went to put the sword in the scabbard only to notice that the sheath was way too short for the length of the sword. He looked questioningly at Dumbledore.

“It is quite alright, Harry. The sheath operates in a similar manner as your pouch. Recent wielders have found it too awkward to move about in public, even in the magical world, with a four foot sheath strapped to their side. So even though it is only six inches long, it can still contain the entire sword. It makes it much easier to conceal. If either of you tap this metal clip on the side of the sheath twice with your thumb, the sheath and sword will assume the appearance of an extra belt loop on your clothing.”

Standing before them, Dumbledore put a hand on each of their shoulders. “I cannot express how proud I am of both of you. You have both chosen a very difficult path to follow, but one that will be well worth it. Together, you will do much good in this world. If there are any new developments, do not hesitate to contact me. This bag of powder will allow you to talk to me through any open flame. I do not wish to keep you up any later than need be. Knowing Saldar, he will begin your training tonight.” With a laugh, Dumbledore dropped the pouch in Harry's hands, collected his things and headed to the door. Harry sheathed the sword and grabbing Hermione's hand, followed him out the door.

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Ch 7 Dedicating Hallowed Ground

As usual, Dumbledore was right on the mark. When Harry and Hermione awoke in the morning, neither felt very well rested and both complained of aching muscles. After a few days of light sightseeing, their bodies began to adjust and they convinced Saldar to put off the daily physical training until they returned to England two weeks later.

Realizing that her parents, especially her mother, suspected something, Hermione had another discussion with them. She explained that because of everything her and Harry had gone through, and all of the talents they had developed, there might be other times when she and Harry might have certain duties and responsibilities to fulfill, and she might not be able to keep her parents fully informed about her actions. Though not very pleased that their girl seemed to be growing up so fast or that she might be in danger again in the future, they seemed to understand and accept it, although very reluctantly. Not completely satisfied either, Hermione realized that was the best she could probably expect.

When they finally left Greece behind them, Harry stayed with Fred and Stella Granger, Hermione's grandparents, for a couple of weeks. During their stay there, Hermione and he took short day trips into London to see some of the places she had told him about, but that he had never had the opportunity to see for himself. They also began their intense physical practice sessions with Saldar. Telling her grandparents they were just off for a morning run, Harry and Hermione would find a secluded stretch of woods in which they could actually practice the various skills and techniques Saldar had been teaching them during their sleep after their morning run. Harry had already had some training in unarmed combat, but for Hermione it was all brand new. Even so, she learned quickly and the sparring matches between the two quickly became fairly equal. Harry was stronger and quicker and had a longer reach, but Hermione was better defensively than Harry.

One morning in early July following one of their morning workout sessions, Hermione shoved a copy of the Daily Prophet across the table to Harry. Frowning for a minute, he was unsure what she wanted him to see until he saw the article titled, “Arthur Weasley to Dedicate New Wizarding Monument Tomorrow.” As he scanned through the article, his eyes lit up and he looked across at Hermione.

“What do you think? Bored of vacation yet?”

“I'm game, Harry. But you know that the place will be crawling with politicians and reporters, right? And if you just show up, without having answered any of the invitations they've sent you, well—I'm sure some of them will be hounding you for some answers. Are you ready to deal with that?”

“Yeah, I know,” sighed Harry. “But I would love to see the monument. And most of our friends will be there, too. Besides, I can't keep hiding here with you forever—much as I might like to do that.”

“Alright, well, I'll just owl Molly and Arthur to let them know we're coming and…”

“Who said we were going to tell anyone?”

“Harry, we can't just show up unannounced. Besides, they'll have tons of security and…”

“But Hermione, that's half the fun. Let me worry about the security.” Nodding her head, Hermione reluctantly agreed. They spent an hour or so packing their things and then the rest of the day in London seeing a movie, walking in the parks, and having dinner. While Harry was packing, Hermione sent off a short note to Molly, letting them know they would see them tomorrow—Hermione didn't want Molly to get overwhelmed with emotion when they showed up the next day.

After their training session and a light breakfast the next morning, Hermione and Harry finished readying their bags and said their goodbyes to the Grangers. Harry sprinkled liberal doses of the Weasley's Sprinkle `Em, Shrink `Em powder over their luggage, and they put their shrunk bags and trunks in their pockets. Putting on Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Hermione reached out and grabbed Harry's hand as he cloaked himself with invisibility. Ready, Harry teleported them both to the Weasley living room, where they were nearly ran over by a frantic Molly Weasley who was rushing around chaotically and bellowing at her children to finish getting ready for the dedication ceremony.

“Wow, they sure rebuilt this in a hurry. I thought it would take longer.”

“They can build much faster in the wizarding world when they want to, Harry,” laughed Hermione.

“Well, the house looks nicer, but still the same, does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it still feels like a home.”

Glancing at the family clock, Harry noticed that all of the hands pointed to home, all of them that is but Percy's. With a tug on Hermione's hand, he led her slowly up the stairway, brushing by a rushing Ginny tumbling down the stairs and barely ducking out of the way as Ron came charging down from the hallway at the top. Harry froze a moment as he looked at the clothing Ron was wearing. Though he couldn't name a single fashion designer, Muggle or magical, and his knowledge of fabrics comprised four categories—denim, cotton, wool, and other; even Harry could tell that the outfit Ron was wearing was very nice and probably very expensive clothing by the look of it. Moving quickly to Ginny's room, they set their luggage in one corner.

“Did you see what Ron was wearing?”

“Yeah. He must have hit the lottery. Those Surrain shirts cost a small fortune. And you have to special order them from Paris. And those pants—hand stitched by Liz Courdelle herself. And here I always thought all of his taste was in his mouth. He must have been secretly reading some of Lavender's Stylish Witch or Bewitching Wizards magazines when we thought he was just rereading old Quidditch magazines.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, never mind. By the way, Harry, I'm still hungry. Would you mind…”

“No problem, Hermione. I'll just run downstairs and grab us a pancake or two. I'm still hungry, too. And it smells like Molly is fixing one of her huge breakfasts.”

Harry quietly made his way downstairs to where he could hear the family congregating around the massive kitchen table. Padding softly through the open doorway, Harry paused to take in the wonderful smells of a Weasley breakfast before he started moving stealthily towards a steaming plate of pancakes. Suddenly he leaped back as a blaring alarm started ringing and a cloud of dust exploded around him. He realized a split second too late that he had somehow set off an alarm spell. He then noticed that the Weasley boys were all throwing small spheres in his direction. Throwing himself flat on his back, he managed to elude them. Rolling back to his shoulders, he front flipped to regain his footing again and raised a deflecting shield in front of him. Too late to dive out of the way, he realized there was one more globe coming at him from behind, only a moment before it tagged him right in the lower back. Immediately, he was caught in a very powerful webbing.

“You might as well uncloak yourself, Harry. They knew you were coming.”

Jerking his head to one side, he realized that he could only look forward—the incredibly strong webbing had completely immobilized him. All of a sudden, he caught a glimpse of Hermione stepping gingerly around the webbing that had caught him in place as she ran to give Molly a huge hug at the table. Ron, the twins, and the other boys were struggling to stay in their chairs as their laughs deepened. Feeling his cheeks flush, Harry uncloaked his invisibility and the laughter increased tenfold.

Hermione picked up a thick pancake, tore off a piece, and returning to Harry's side, stuffed it in his mouth. “You were looking for one of these, I believe?” she asked laughingly.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Ron exclaimed, “That was one of the best pranks I've ever seen Hermione!”

“A stroke of genius!” added George.

“Brilliant! Inspirational!” concluded Fred. “We might have to make her an honorary Weasley for this.”

“I thought I was an honorary Weasley,” joked Hermione.

Swallowing his pride and the pancake, Harry thought “Hermione, would you mind getting me out of this?”

“What was that Harry? I couldn't hear you.” Hermione's eyes were filled with mirth.

Harry mumbled low, “I said, would you mind getting me out of this?”

Spinning her wand in her fingers, Hermione posed in front of Harry. “I don't think I should do that right now. I'm not sure you've learned your lesson just yet.”

“Yeah, never try to outtrick a Weasley!” shouted Fred.

Pointing her wand at Harry, Molly announced, “Oh, I think the poor dear has suffered enough. There you go, sweetie.” And she dispelled the webbing.

Looking sternly for a moment, Harry announced, “You do realize that you've all moved to the top of my prank list, don't you? You're all right below Miss Hermione Granger. She has even managed to bump Snape and the Slytherins down a notch or two on the list.” Softening at the laughter that erupted, Harry continued. “But I guess I had that coming.” Giving Molly a big hug, he added, “Hermione was right, I should have let you know we were coming today. But she already did, didn't she?”

With a wide smile, Hermione nodded and took a bow. “I confess. I suggested that we plan a little welcoming party of our own for you. So the twins planted several of their motion detectors around the house.”

“But why didn't the family set them off, then? Why only me?” asked Harry curiously as he finished off the pancake Hermione had given him.

“We set them to detect only the motion of invisible parties, old chap. We knew if you came here like Hermione had hinted that you wouldn't be walking around in plain sight,” explained Fred.

“But why didn't I sense them? And why didn't we set them off when we first arrived?”

“Were you looking for active spell wards?” asked George. When Harry shook his head, he continued. “Hermione signaled us when we should activate them and then we just waited for you to show up. I must say, the dust worked perfectly, making you a very visible target, even if you were still too quick for the five of us to hit you. Good thing we had some back up, eh Hermione?”

“Yeah, good thing,” muttered Harry as Hermione laughed out loud. “I'm going to need to take another shower, you know,” he complained.

“Poor boy.” she replied as she drank her pumpkin juice.

Ignoring the continued laughs, Harry happily took the plate Molly handed him and heaped several warm pancakes on it.

“Now eat up, Harry. You're still too thin, if you ask me,” muttered Molly. Harry just smiled at Hermione and let the warmth of the family around the table envelop him. It was good to be home.

-----

Arthur had several extra tickets which allowed Harry and Hermione to attend the dedication without having to resort to more drastic measures. Harry continued to decline Arthur's invitations to be part of the ceremony however.

After breakfast and Harry's quick shower, Hermione and Harry accompanied the Weasleys to the battlefield where the monument had been placed. Harry altered his appearance and the guards just assumed that they were either Weasleys or clerks from the Ministry since they arrived with Arthur's group. They were early enough so that they could walk around the battle site for a while before the arriving politicians and news reporters began arriving and made it too crowded to move freely. It was the first time either Harry or Hermione had returned to the battlefield.

Though several months had passed, and it was now close to midsummer, there was not a speck of green to be seen anywhere. Just dry dust everywhere. The forest on one side, once so vibrant and alive, now appeared grim and stark, skeletal branches stretching forth searching for life. On the other side, the once calm blue waters appeared grey and stagnant, and emitted a bitter smell. In the center of the field stood the large circle of statues facing inward where a smaller group of wizards had made their final stand against Voldemort and his remaining allies. Where Voldemort's body had fallen, there was now a silk curtain, hiding whatever monument had been placed there until after the ceremony. A large stage was set on one side, with seating for several hundred facing it and on the sides.

Refusing a place on the stage, Harry and Hermione sat among the crowded onlookers with the rest of the Weasleys when the ceremony began. Most of the stage seemed to have been reserved for various officials from the Ministry. Harry nodded briefly to Dumbledore, who he saw on the stage with several other Hogwarts professors. Fudge and several other officials gave their dull, self-serving speeches. Harry noted ironically that not one of them had actually been present at the battle. Finally, it was Arthur's turn. He stood and crossed slowly to the silk curtains. He tugged on a golden rope, and the curtains came crashing down to reveal a huge block of transparent crystal. A murmur passed through the crowd and several of the officials on the stage frowned severely. Arthur stood to the side of the block, pointed his wand at his throat and intoned “Sonorus.”

“Wizards and Witches, if I may have your attention for a moment. I wish to apologize to you all. This monument is not quite finished. In fact, it may never be finished.” The murmuring exploded into barely checked anger and several of the Ministry officials, including Fudge, rose to their feet with extremely angry looks on their faces.

“Please, let me explain the concept behind the monument and then you will understand why it may never be completed. This block you see here is a memory crystal, the largest that has ever been created. It completely encases and protects the broken halves of Voldemort's wand, preserving it as evidence of his defeat. You can also see the silver dagger that not only restored Voldemort to power just over two years ago but also helped defeat him once and for all. But we wanted this monument to do more than just remind us of his defeat, we wanted it to remind us of the lives that were taken to further his evil goals and the lives that were given to prevent his success. So we have created a magical display with the memory crystal of every human and magical creature that lost their life opposing Voldemort. We have included everyone we know of, but the sad fact is that we may never know every life that he destroyed. That is why this monument will never be complete.” Arthur looked around at the crowd now nodding in astonishment and locked gazes with Harry.

“What does he want, Hermione?”

Hermione paused for a moment and then replied, “He wants to know if you would be willing to be the first one to view one of the monument's images.”

“Tell him yes.”

Arthur then announced, “I would like to invite Harry Potter to be the first person to view an image of the monument.” The crowd exploded at the mention of Harry's name and everyone looked around up on the stage to see where he might be seated. If possible, Fudge's facial features became even darker with rage.

Harry removed the metamorphmagus transformation that concealed his features, and pushed back the hood of his cloak as he slowly walked forward from the seated crowd towards the crystal monument. The buzz of conversation grew louder and Harry was momentarily blinded by the round of flashes from wizarding cameras that were going off all around him.

Arthur directed him to stand directly in front of the crystal block and to place his hand upon the front of the block. A voice asked softly, “Whom do you wish to view?”

There was a hush of anticipation from the crowd, many expecting him to mention his parents, and then Harry's voice rang out. “All of them. I would like to see all of them, please.” Harry stood back, his back straight as a rod and looked up as the image of a small boy, perhaps six or seven, materialized upon the stone. “I am Rolfo Finnes. I caught Tom Riddle stealing food I had hidden under my bed in the orphanage where we both lived. He…” The minutes grew into hours as the images each told their own brief story. As word of Harry's presence spread throughout the day, and the incredible request he had made, the field itself began to fill with wizards and witches who wished to see for themselves if the rumors they heard were true. Throughout it all, Harry stood still as a rock, his face focused on the parade of images before him. The only time he moved was to squeeze Hermione's hand as she stood by his side and gently put her hand in his.

After dusk, when the final image had finished speaking, Harry awoke as if from a trance, and looked around in astonishment at the vast gathering around him.

“I'm sorry for keeping everyone here so long,” started Harry. Realizing that only those closest to him could hear him, he spoke quietly to Arthur for a moment, who then pointed his wand at Harry's throat and spoke the command word “Sonorus.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley. And thank all of you for coming and staying so long. I'm sorry for keeping all of you here so late. This is a wonderful monument, as wonderful as such a monument can be. Thank you. Thank you.” With tears still running down his face, Harry ignored Arthur's outstretched hand and gave him a huge hug instead. Harry then shook hands with the remaining officials from the Ministry—conspicuously absent was Fudge, who had left some time ago. Dumbledore, too, got a bear hug from Harry.

When several reporters pushed forward to ask additional questions of Harry, he declined, in a voice still amplified by the Sonorus spell, “Please, there is nothing more I can add. Arthur Weasley and the others who worked on this project have done more to honor the memories of those who have fallen than any mere words of my own can do. Those statues you see surrounding us here tonight, and the images that appear above the crystal represent those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for the world. They're the real heroes. Honour them.” Reaching for Hermione's hand, he shook his head at the next round of questions. “Good night.” Then he and Hermione simply vanished.

-----

Harry and Hermione were relaxing around the dining table, finishing off a meat pie with the rest of the Weasley boys while they waited for Ginny and her parents to come home.

“Geez, Harry, you still know how to steal the spotlight, huh?” scowled Ron through a chicken leg he was gnawing on.

“What's that supposed to mean?” asked a puzzled Harry.

“Nothing. I'm beat. I'm heading to bed.” And with that, Ron tossed the leg on the table and stomped upstairs.

After he was gone, Harry turned to the twins and asked, “What's his problem?”

“Haven't you noticed the swelling in his head?”

“It's amazing he can still put his new fancy shirts on in the morning.”

“What are you two talking about?”

“Haven't you been reading the papers? He must give two or three interviews a week.”

“Interviews? About what?”

“About you. Well, actually about how important his role was in helping you defeat Voldemort.”

“It's quite disgusting actually.”

“Revolting.”

“Umm, I think we've got the picture,” cut in Hermione.

“We're glad you're back now. Maybe you two can talk some sense into him.”

“Yeah, he doesn't seem to want to listen to us.”

“Well I'm sure that you two have been very diplomatic about it,” remarked Hermione.

“Why of course. It's a shame the self-annointed all-important One can't see that.”

“Yes, Mr. the-world-revolves-around-me has been fairly full of himself as of late.”

“Uhh, is there anything else of importance that we ought to know about?” ventured Harry.

“Well, business was a bit off there for a while, but is doing much better now. We're thinking about opening another store, maybe in Diagon Alley. We're looking into it.”

“And we've got some new items we'd like to try, er…show you. Even better than the one this morning.” Both twins and Hermione started laughing.

Ignoring them, Harry asked Charlie how the dragons were doing in Romania.

Several puffs of smoke and the murmuring voices in the living room announced the arrival of the returning Weasleys.

Entering the kitchen with his wife and daughter in tow, Arthur boomed, “Well, Harry, you certainly know how to make an exit. It took me forty-five minutes to finish off the remaining questions from those reporters.”

“Yeah, somebody already mentioned that. Why didn't you just Apparate? You didn't need to stick around just to answer their questions,” offered Harry.

“Well, as a ministry official, and apparently the only one you seem inclined to associate with, I did need to stay and deal with their questions. Especially since Fudge had left early.”

“I'm sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean to…”

“Oh hush, Harry. It's no problem, Harry. I think you handled it very well, Arthur. I am very proud of you. Now it's very late and it's been a long day. Finish eating, the lot of you, and then off to bed with you,” urged Molly.

Half an hour later, after the grumbling, but no longer hungry Weasleys had all gone to bed, Harry laid back and though concerned about Ron, fell asleep quickly.

-->

Ch 8 Warnings from a Wanderer

Harry floated lazily over the Quidditch field. The last few weeks hadn't turned out nearly as well as he had hoped. While he and Hermione were technically staying at the Weasleys, it seemed like they spent more time at Hogwarts than at the Burrow. Harry came every morning for training sessions with Dumbledore after he and Hermione had finished their sparring session with Saldar. Hermione came as well, to read in the library—Dumbledore had given her complete access to the Restricted area. They spent most of the day there, since the Weasleys all seemed to be very busy. The twins seemed to have their hands full with the shop and it seemed as if even Ron and Ginny were working full time there as well. Arthur, Bill, and Charlie seemed to have never ending tasks to do for the ministry, and even Molly was rarely home. Sometimes Harry read with Hermione looking for clues about Atlantis, other days, like today, he flew around on his Firebolt. But not even that seemed to be lightening his spirits today.

Returning to the bedroom he shared with his Gryffindor roommates through an open window, he put his broomstick back in its case and looked back out the window. On an impulse he jumped through the window and shapeshifted to his dragonform as he fell towards the ground. Catching a draft, he soared upward and headed for the Forbidden Forest. Circling for a moment, reveling in the onrush of sensations his heightened senses were picking up, he dove towards the tangled branches.

Swooping, diving, rolling, Harry flew through the tangled canopy, dodging and twisting agilely and avoiding gnarled limbs and entangling vines. Minutes later, Harry perched on a limb and soaked in the images his senses provided him from the world around him. Grawp's presence was easy enough to detect, the unicorns and centaurs more difficult. He had passed several tree nymphs, a few had seemed to notice his presence as he flew by. Just off to the right, however, Harry detected something odd. The normal sounds of the forest, the normally bright music of bird songs, punctuated by the flapping of wings and the velvety brushing of ferns by larger animals, seemed somewhat subdued, though not completely silent. Harry went to investigate.

Perching on another branch overlooking a small clearing, Harry watched and waited in complete silence, cloaked in his form of invisibility. Suddenly, silently there emerged from the underbrush a tall, roughly dressed figure. He paused at the edge of the clearing, paused to lift his nose as if smelling the air, and then continued across the open forest. His long, grey overcoat hung off his shoulders, brushing lightly against the leaves and branches but making no sound. Harry noticed the wary stride of the man and recognized the balanced, relaxed attitude of a capable adversary. The man's blue eyes continued to dart everywhere, constantly looking for possible danger. Though Harry could see no wand or visible weapon, he detected a sense of strength and danger about the man. After all, anyone who would wander right through the heart of the Forbidden Forest alone and unarmed had to be either very foolish or very powerful. He didn't seem to be a fool. And if he continued to follow his present course, it would lead him straight to Hogwarts.

Harry decided to follow him, and if he got nearer, he would warn Hermione and Dumbledore. Maintaining his invisibility, Harry alternated between flying and teleporting to keep an eye on the intruder. Once or twice, he noticed the man turn his head towards him, and Harry quickly teleported away.

A quarter mile from the edge of the forest, Harry mindspoke to Hermione. “Mione. Please tell Dumbledore that we have some company arriving through the Forbidden Forest.”

“Who?”

“No idea. But he's walked through the heart of the forest by himself while avoiding the most dangerous threats. I thought you should know.”

“Thanks, I'll tell Dumbledore.”

When the man and Harry broke out of the forest and looked across to the castle, Harry saw Dumbledore sitting in the middle of one of the remaining green patches of field, with an empty chair in front of him, and a small table with some snacks, a pitcher, and several glasses. Harry noticed that the man's pace quickened, and he seemed a little more relaxed. Harry stayed cloaked and followed the man, about ten feet behind him and to his right. When the man stopped in front of Dumbledore, Harry transformed back and pointed his wand at the stranger while staying invisible.

“Samuel, it is a pleasure to see you again. I trust you are well. Please, have a seat. Would you care for something to eat? Or a drink perhaps? Please, relax. You have nothing to fear here.”

The man called Samuel stood for a minute, then laughed. “Getting too old to defend yourself, Dumbledore? Need a pair of bodyguards to watch over you now? Tell the girl to calm down. That's a lovely fragrance she's wearing, by the way—smells like dust and paper. I haven't figured out what you had tracking me in the forest yet—it's got tremendous skill, but it's still a little sloppy.”

“Hermione, Harry. It's quite all right. Please, come and sit down with us.” Dumbledore then waved his wand and two more comfortable chairs appeared. Hermione, standing several feet to the side of Dumbledore, pulled off Harry's Invisibility Cloak, put her wand away, and stood by Dumbledore. Harry uncloaked himself and moved next to Hermione. Both looked intently at the stranger named Samuel as he poured himself a glass to drink.

Grimacing, Samuel swallowed as he sat in the chair. “Pumpkin juice, Dumbledore? I've crossed half this damn island for juice?!? Please tell me you've got better stuff than this hidden in that school of yours!”

“Perhaps, but I believe it is a little early in the day for stronger drinks, Samuel.”

“Well, yeah, I guess. What are those, cookies? Toss me a couple would you, sweetie?” asked Samuel, looking at Hermione. “Any of your elves know how to grill a decent burger or just fish `n chips? I'd kill for a double cheeseburger with extra bacon and onions right about now.” Chomping on the biscuits, Samuel looked at Hermione and Harry, who were in turn studying him quietly.

“Hermione and Harry, huh? That would make you Granger and Potter.” He looked them up and down quietly for a moment. “You don't look half as formidable as the papers make you out to be. But what are you doing here? Isn't school out for the summer? Shouldn't you be at a press conference or endorsing a new brand of broomsticks or meeting with your fan clubs or something? You know, cashing in on your fame?”

Harry's mouth closed in a tight line. “I've got better things to do with my time then waste it talking to reporters. And I don't know who you think you are, but I would suggest that you show a little more respect towards Hermione and Professor Dumbledore.”

Samuel smiled and chuckled tauntingly, “You going to make me hero? What about you Missy? Any words of advice or veiled threats? What's the matter, cat got your tongue? Or does he do all the talking for you?”

“If you would say anything halfway intelligent, I would be happy to respond,” snapped Hermione.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Ah, Samuel, I see you have not lost any of your considerable charm. However, I think that if you got to know Hermione and Harry a little better, you would find them to be quite different from what some of the papers make them out to be.”

“Whatever. Let's cut to the chase Dumbledore, I've got some important news for you. Tell the dynamic duo to get lost so we can talk in private.”

Though Dumbledore's eyes flashed briefly, he politely asked, “Harry, Hermione, would you mind giving us some privacy for a few minutes, please?”

Controlling his temper, Harry muttered, “No problem, sir.” Hermione pulled him away and they walked back up to the castle. They had barely reached the front doors, when Hermione paused, and then pulled Harry back towards the field.

“I think Dumbledore wants us back for a minute.”

“Were you eavesdropping?” At Hermione's faint smile, Harry thought, “Fine, we'll head back, but something about that guy really gets on my nerves. I'd as soon punch him as look at him.”

As they walked back, they could see that Samuel was talking very animatedly with Dumbledore. Hermione looked oddly for a moment at the profiles of the two mages as they faced each other and then turned simultaneously to watch Harry and her walk towards them.

“Thank you two for returning. I am afraid that the information Mr. Hunt has brought me may involve the two of you as well. Before I ask Samuel to share that with you, let me provide a little background for the both of you. As you may have guessed from his accent, Samuel is American, not British. He therefore does not have any ties with our Ministry of Magic here in Great Britain. Because of that, he has been very helpful to us in the Order of the Phoenix in countering Voldemort's moves here and on the continent. During most of the recent war, Samuel has been hard at work trying to prevent Voldemort from gaining additional allies and trying to undermine the alliances he did make.”

“It would have been much easier had I known that Potter and Granger here were working on their own set of alliances,” interrupted Samuel.

“Yes, we have already been through all of this. That is in the past now. We need to move on,” commented Dumbledore.

“Did you really think that the vampires or the harpies were going to fight on our side? How many other groups did you waste your time on?”

“It was worth a try,” insisted Hermione.

“Besides, they didn't help Voldemort's side,” added Harry.

“More because of dumb luck, than anything. If you had launched your final battle any later…”

“That is enough. Voldemort has been defeated. Could it have gone more smoothly? Perhaps. But that is not important right now. What is important is the information you are bringing us now, Samuel. Please tell Harry and Hermione what you have already told me.”

“Very well. I'm not sure if you know, but the Death Stalkers have been very busy on the continent tracking down the remaining allies of Voldemort who were supposed to show up for the big showdown. I have been doing the same thing on my own.”

“By yourself?” gasped Hermione.

“Of course,” snapped Samuel.

“Samuel is a Grey Warlock, the American version of an Auror,” explained Dumbledore. “And one of the best, I might add. We were very grateful for his assistance.”

Samuel glanced at Dumbledore, then he looked at Harry and Hermione oddly. “Was. I'm not exactly a team player.” Then he straightened in his chair and looked at both Harry and Hermione more seriously. “As I was tracking down various allies of Voldemort, I came across a mid-level Death Eater named Schraeder. During the interrogation, he informed me of some very dangerous allies that Voldemort had tried to enlist. Voldemort had been unsuccessful, thank goodness, during the war in recruiting them. But Schraeder told me that several had been recruited about two weeks ago.”

“But who could have done that?” asked Harry.

“Who did the recruiting is less important right now than what was recruited. They, whoever that is, have enlisted the help of the Yonnua.”

“Assassins?!?!” cried Hermione.

“You know of them?” sputtered Samuel in amazement.

“Not much. I came across a reference to them for an essay I was doing last year. It seems that during the late nineteenth century, there were several groups of radical wizards looking to shake things up by bringing down the various Ministries and creating a new social order of magic. Some of them tried to enlist the aid of the Yonnua, but were never heard of again. Some wizards also think they may have been involved in some of the political assassinations of Muggle leaders at the end of the nineteenth century usually attributed to the Anarchists, but nobody has been able to prove anything definitively one way or another.”

“Glad to hear it. The fewer that know about them, the better,” responded Samuel. Turning to Dumbledore, he asked again. “Are you sure you want them to know? They're awfully young and this is pretty serious stuff.”

“Please continue Samuel. They are young, but they have handled some fairly serious stuff on their own. Besides…” with his eyes twinkling as he gazed at Hermione, “if you do not tell them, you will simply force them to discover the information for themselves.”

Hermione blushed slightly and quickly hid her guilty look.

“Fine, you're the boss old man. Anyways, the Yonnua are the perfect assassins. They're shapeshifters. Do not confuse them with boggarts and don't even think about using a Riddikulus spell on them. They're much more lethal than boggarts, or even dopplegangers. They can assume the shape of anything they kill, not just a human form like a doppleganger. But in addition, they can absorb the memories and behaviors of the victims, making them impossible to detect. You might be able to trip up a doppelganger, catch it in an inappropriate behavior. But not a Yonnua, it's like they can clone everything about the victim.

Normally, Muggles don't have to worry about them, except for their victims, obviously. What I mean is that they have never involved themselves with the affairs of humans before.” Here he paused and glanced at Hermione. “Or at least that I've heard of. The Yonnua are completely wrapped up in their own scramble for power. They seem to be concerned with only two things, survival, and killing every other Yonnua they find. Their entire existence seems to be a never ending game of cat and mouse, with every Yonnua constantly hunting down and eliminating every other Yonnua they can find. Sometimes they kill humans to hide among human society, most of the time they hide as various types of animals.”

“Why haven't they involved themselves in human affairs?” asked Harry. “It sounds like they could do pretty much whatever they wanted.”

“Be glad they haven't. Personally, I don't think they believe we have anything to offer them. Or maybe a lack of coordinated goals between them. Like I said, all they seem to care about is killing each other.”

“But you specifically mentioned Muggles. Couldn't they cause problems for the wizarding world as well?” asked Hermione.

“I suppose so, but, according to Schraeder, the Yonnua can't absorb magical powers, so there is no advantage for them to target wizards or witches—or magical creatures for that matter. In fact, by trying to impersonate a magical being and then being unable to use magic would increase the risk of exposure and murder by one of their fellow Yonnua. Thankfully they don't have the ability to cast spells—their ability to transform their physical appearance and to absorb memories seems to be their only gifts, though they are powerful ones.”

“So why was Voldemort trying to recruit them?” asked Harry.

Looking steadily at Harry, Samuel replied evenly. “I'm not sure. Maybe Voldemort simply wanted to create problems among the Muggles. Or maybe he didn't know about it. Maybe not all of the Death Eaters thought he would be able to take you down. Maybe they were plan B.”

“But if they've never bothered with interfering in Muggle or Wizarding affairs before, why now?” asked Hermione.

“It seems that someone working for Voldemort found something that sparked their interest. Schraeder told me that they discovered that if viewed with infravision, the mind of a Yonnua glows much more brightly than a normal human would. They figured it had something to do with the absorption of the victims' memories or the fact that they could hold memories from many different victims. Some nonsense about increased blood flow or neural connections or something.”

“Yes, of course. That makes sense,” commented Hermione. Dumbledore glanced at Hermione and nodded in agreement.

Looking at Harry, Samuel rolled his eyes and continued, “Anyways, they then created an item, a set of magical glasses, that would allow any Yonnua to have infravision. Of course, they would have to get the glasses recharged, which is how Voldemort planned on keeping their loyalty. With those glasses, it would be very easy for any Yonnua to discover and kill as many other Yonnua as he pleased.”

“Hmm. But how did the Yonnua detect each other before if not through the use of infravision? I thought you said they didn't have magical abilities and…”

“I don't know and frankly, I could care less. Do I look like some sort of encyclopedia to you?” snapped Samuel.

“Well, how do you know all of this about the Yonnua?” demanded Hermione.

“I've told you—I interrogated Schraeder,” replied Samuel forcefully.

“That's your only source?” questioned Hermione incredulously.

“Back to the more important questions,” urged Harry, “Do you how many were hired? And who are they supposed to kill? And who is calling the shots?” asked Harry.

Samuel shrugged. “Well, Schraeder was in charge of this recruitment project and, after he successfully made agreements with two of the Yonnua, as seems to be standard procedure for Death Eaters, he killed everyone below him that worked on the project. I believe the only other one who knows anything about this is his immediate superior, but I couldn't find out who it was. But there can't be too many left. Most of them perished in the final battle with Voldemort and, as far as I understand, some are still being held in your wizard prison—what was the name?”

“Azkaban,” supplied Harry. “Yeah, there's still about two dozen there. But it couldn't be one of them. Even when the Dementors abandoned the prison to attack Hogwarts, nobody was able to escape because the Order left some members close enough to the prison just in case that happened. They've been under constant guard since then, right Dumbledore?”

“Well, until the final battle, there was always someone from the Order at the prison in addition to the other guards. However, since then, the guard staff has been provided solely by the Ministry, but as I understand it, nobody has been allowed visitors since the battle at Hogwarts,” explained Dumbledore.

“Maybe we could try talking to Schraeder again. Where is he?” asked Hermione.

“Dead. Tried to escape. Died in the attempt. But at least he's no longer a threat.”

Hermione looked closely at Samuel. Samuel returned the gaze coolly.

“I didn't kill him on purpose, if that's what you're insinuating, Miss Granger. I would have liked to continue questioning him—I still need to know who's in charge now and who the targets are. Now that job is a lot tougher. In case you've forgotten, we're still in a war. But that doesn't mean I stoop to their level and start acting like one of the monsters we're fighting and start killing people just for the sheer pleasure of it.”

“I didn't mean to imply…I mean…but isn't the war over? I mean we defeated Voldemort and his army.”

Glancing at a grim-faced Harry and a somber Dumbledore, Samuel replied, “Ask them if the war against evil ever ends. For every Grindelwald and Voldemort that goes down, some other scumbag wizard will surface and try to make a name for himself.” He then stood and headed to the castle. Stopping by Dumbledore's seat, he reached down and placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “It's good to see you again old friend, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I'll head to my regular room, if that's alright. I'm going to hit the sack for a short catnap—I'm beat.”

Dumbledore invited him to dinner later that evening in the Great Hall. Samuel nodded and then strode to the castle without another word. Harry and Hermione watched him go before Harry turned sharply to Hermione. “What if Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters had another research project going on? What if it's one of his Death Eaters that is looking for one of the artifacts from Atlantis?”

Hermione gasped as Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in thought. “That is possible, Harry. There may be other groups like the one that was headed by this Schraeder…”

Harry's fist clenched as he stared at the castle in frustration. “It never ends does it? I thought Voldemort's evil would be finally finished when I defeated him, but no, his stupid followers keep on causing new problems.”

“We do not know whether they are involved or not Harry. If it's not, it simply means someone else is trying to step in and take their place as Samuel pointed out. As long as people have choices, there will always be those who prefer evil to good. That means that there will always be a need for people like you and Hermione, people who are willing to stand up and fight against them in order to protect those who cannot. We simply do the best we can, Harry. We can do no more,” offered Dumbledore.

Hermione stepped near and slid an arm around his waist comfortingly. “Don't worry Harry, we'll find them. We'll get the artifact before they do.” Harry just nodded silently.

-----

Harry was happy to see most of the Weasleys in the Great Hall that night. He was even glad to see Ron, who was in a particularly happy mood. Hermione and he had grown somewhat tired of Ron's fluctuating moodiness and were trying to give him some space. Apparently Dumbledore had invited all of the Weasleys to join them for dinner. Several of the teachers were there as well. They were about to start eating when Samuel appeared in one of the doorways. He had shed his long grey coat and was wearing a light grey shirt with black pants. He had pulled his long hair back into a ponytail and shaved his stubble. Judging from Ginny and Hermione's gasps, he looked quite different.

As he walked towards the table, Hagrid let loose a bellow and swept him off his feet in a huge bear hug.

“Tis good teh see yer, Sam!” boomed Hagrid.

“Yeah, same here. Now let me go, you hairy grizzly, before you crush all of my ribs,” gasped Samuel.

“Sorry, sorry, jus' glad teh see yer is all!” laughed Hagrid.

“Well, well. Looking worse than usual, aren't we Hunt? I thought we cut ties with the bloody Yanks years ago,” sneered Snape.

“Ah, Snape. How wonderful to see you again. I thought for sure that Voldemort would take down all of his buddies with him when he fell again, including the traitors. Guess that was asking for too much, eh?”

Dumbledore quickly stepped between the two. “Ah, I see you two remember each other well. There will be more time to catch up later, I am sure. There are a few others I thought you might be glad to see, Samuel.”

“Has Snape ever gotten along with anyone?” thought Hermione.

“Well, if Snape hates him that much, there must be a lot about him that we would like.” replied Harry.

“I trust you remember Arthur and Molly. These are their children, Charlie, Bill, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny.”

“Of course. I'll never forget what they did for me.”

“And Professor McGonagall, of course.”

“M'am,” he replied and gave a deep bow. “A pleasure, as always.” Hermione glanced across the table and saw that Ginny was watching the three of them as well with close interest. Especially Samuel.

“And…”

“Hawkeye!”

“Moony!”

Samuel and Lupin embraced in a hug and pounded each other's back. Resuming his seat, Dumbledore smiled. “Come, now that we are all present, let us dig in.”

Harry, Hermione, and the younger Weasleys spent most of the dinner trying to figure out how Samuel fit in with everybody. Harry was just glad to see everyone around him enjoying themselves. Worries about artifacts from Atlantis, assassins, and why the Weasleys seemed to be avoiding him washed away during the enjoyment of the meal.

-->

Ch 9 Birthday Bash

On the last day of July, the afternoon sun was terribly warm. Harry was having a difficult time keeping up with his melting ice cream. Across the table, Hermione seemed to be having the same problem. For perhaps the fifth time, Harry reached across with a napkin and wiped ice cream off her nose.

“You really like this stuff, don't you?” he laughed.

“What's that supposed to mean?” she countered.

“Nothing, nothing. Relax. Thanks for taking me out. I'm really starting to go stir crazy. I know I shouldn't complain, but I thought this summer would be different. I was so excited about staying with the Weasleys, but I've hardly seen them all summer.”

“Got tired of hanging out with me and my family, huh?”

“That's not what I meant.”

“I know—I was just kidding. Don't worry, things will get better.”

“Do you know something I don't know?”

“I think that's pretty obvious, Harry.”

“Is it about my birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it a surprise?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Not if I want to keep it a surprise.”

Moving closer, Harry threatened, “Maybe I'll have to tickle the information out of you.”

“Not if you want to keep all of your fingers.”

Smiling, Harry leaned back and shaded his eyes against the sun as he looked down the street. “I love the private table they've installed here. I'll bet the twins will make a small fortune off of this invention.”

To any person walking down the street of Hogsmeade, the table outside of the ice cream shop appeared to have an elderly wizard and witch talking quietly over small slices of ice cream cake. The illusion allowed Harry and Hermione to sit and talk quietly without the least fear of being discovered by nosy reporters from one of the wizarding papers. The only person who knew they were there was the owner of the shop herself.

“Well, if you're done, Harry, we might as well go.”

“To the secret surprise party?”

“No, we're going somewhere else first. Besides, you know how busy everyone has been this summer. It will probably just end up being you and me blowing out a match on a cupcake.” At Harry's pained expression, Hermione laughed. “Oh lighten up Harry, I'm just kidding. Come on.”

They left the ice cream shop through the back and Hermione guided Harry through several alleys to the edge of town.

“Uhh, Mione, are you sure you know where you're going? The only thing there is up this trail is the Shrieking Shack. And from what I've heard in the village, it's been especially haunted this summer.”

“Trust me, Harry.”

Within a few minutes, they had climbed the little trail that led up the side of the hill to stand in front of the old, falling-down house known as the Shrieking Shack. It sounded eerily quiet today, which only made it appear more ominous. Normally a slight breeze whistled through several of the spindly trees and caused several of the shutters and the front door to creak and bang against the house. But there was no wind today.

Looking at the overgrown garden, the peeling paint, and the walls in various states of disrepair, Harry snorted. “What a horrible little shack.”

Hermione glanced at him. “You know, I heard someone bought this place this summer.”

“Really?!?! Who in their right mind would want this place?” Then the expression on his face changed. “They're not going to tear it down are they?”

“I thought you didn't care, Harry.”

“Well, I don't. It's just that—well, my dad and Sirius spent a lot of time there. I just hate to see it get destroyed I guess.”

“Well, I guess you'll just have to make that decision for yourself.”

Puzzled, Harry looked at Hermione as she reached into her pocket and with a grin pulled out a large skeleton key.

“Welcome to your new home away from Hogwarts, Harry Potter,” she pronounced as she placed the key in his hand.

As Harry's hands wrapped around the key, movement out of the corner of his eye captured his attention. Like a shimmering veil, the image of the Shrieking Shack seemed to drop like a stage curtain and in its place was a beautiful three story brick home with a wild mixture of eaves and gables and towers that nevertheless seemed perfectly balanced.

“What the …” started Harry.

“This is your birthday present, Harry, from all of us. Now follow me and I'll show you around.” She led a wide-mouthed Harry towards the solid oak doors and raised a large brass knocker. Before she could knock, the double doors swung open to reveal a deeply bowing Dobby.

“Welcome to your new home, Master Potter.”

“Dobby, I'm not…I…wow,” stuttered Harry as he glanced around the entrance hallway. The first door on the right opened into a huge parlor lined with bookshelves and comfortable chairs and sofas. On one wall hung a huge black rectangle over the top of an enormous fireplace. There were huge black boxes around the room.

“Hermione, this room alone is big enough for everyone in Gryffindor house to fit in.”

“And you'd better invite us over from time to time,” laughed Ron as he got up from one of the chairs. “Hermione has been explaining to us about how to work these DDD's and DC's, but they never seem to work right.”

“They're called DVD's and CD's and the problem is that you keep mixing them up and putting them in upside down.”

“Hermione knew how you never got to watch TD or movies or listen to any of your own music growing up with the Dursley's, so she thought she would remedy that in your new home. And the twins managed to hook up the stereo to the Wizarding Wireless Network as well.”

“Wow Hermione. This is incredible. Is that a flat screen TV?”

“Of course, Harry. Nothing but the best for you.”

“You shouldn't have, I'm sure this was all very expensive.”

“Oh, don't worry about it Harry. We just took it out of your Gringott's account,” joked Hermione.

“You what? How?” exclaimed Harry.

Choking off his laughter, Ron smirked, “Wait till you see the rest of the house, mate.”

Across the hall there was an enormous study with several large tables, desks and chairs. Once again there were bookshelves that lined the room.

“Did you put bookshelves in every room, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Except for the kitchen and bathrooms, yes. I thought you might have friends over who like to read.”

“But Ron just likes to read Quidditch magazines, and even then just the ones with lots of pictures—I certainly don't need that much shelf space.”

“That's funny, Potter,” snorted Ron. “I'll have you know I read plenty of wizarding comic books as well.”

“Cute, Harry. Maybe I won't show you the library, then.”

“How could I miss it? I'm sure it will be the biggest room in the house,” teased Harry.

“Keep it up funny boy,” snapped Hermione in mock anger.

The double doors on the side of the study did indeed open to an enormous library. Rows of books lined the shelves on every wall, as well as several freestanding bookcases. A rolling ladder leaned on one wall that provided access to the shelves over six feet off of the ground.

Walking back out of the room, Ron quipped, “Well, that's enough books for me. I'll be back in the parlor listening to some DDD's.”

On one wall, Harry noticed a pair of chairs in front of a small fireplace. Then it hit him. Hermione had recreated the library within his own mind. He turned and looked at her. “Thank you. It's beautiful. This is all so wonderful. How can I ever thank you?”

“It wasn't just me, Harry. I had a lot of help. All of your friends wanted to do this for you. We wanted to give you a real home. We're just sorry it took most of the summer to finish it.” Hermione gave him a huge hug and a peck on the cheek. “Now it's Molly's turn to show you the kitchen and I think the twins have a surprise for you outside.”

Back in the hallway, Hermione pointed out an enormous dining hall, with a ceiling composed of constellations like at Hogwarts. Then she pushed him into the kitchen where Molly wrapped him up in a huge bear hug. “Now I've magicked most of the appliances and pans and utensils, Harry, but you can also cook without magic if you'd like.” Harry looked around in awe at the kitchen. It seemed enormous and every cupboard door he opened seemed packed with food. As Molly continued explaining the various aspects of the kitchen, in barged Fred and George from a door that opened to the backyard.

“Enough mum!” shouted George.

“If he gets too hungry, he can always hit up the Hogwart's kitchen staff for some table scraps,” explained Fred.

“Come on, Harry, you've got to see this.” Each grabbing an arm, they pulled Harry through the back door. Ten steps off of an enormous back porch, Harry realized he was standing on the edge of a regulation size Quidditch pitch. There were three rings on each end of the fields and even a small set of stands on one side.

“Brilliant!” was all Harry could say as he looked over the field.

“We thought you'd like it,” replied a very smug Fred.

“Now all we need are your brothers and my broom,” replied Harry with a huge smile.

“We were just waiting for the magic words, Harry,” smirked George, who then snapped his fingers.

From the other side of the stands emerged Bill and Charlie on their brooms, carrying several extra brooms. Ron stepped out of the house and walked over to stand by the twins and Harry. With wide grins on their faces, they all reached out their hands and commanded simultaneously, “Accio broom.”

Harry teamed up with the twins against the remaining three in what proved to be one of the wildest Quidditch matches any of them had ever seen. Resting for a minute after an exhilarating, but exhausting fifteen minute pursuit of the snitch, Harry happened to glance down at the stands and noticed that a number of people were there watching the game. He swooped down and greeted Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, and Lupin. Ginny and Hermione were there, as well as Molly, Arthur, and Samuel and Dobby. He quickly said hello to everyone and then noticed most of the Weasley boys were huddled around someone at the end of the bleachers.

“Hello, Harry!” said Fleur Delacour in very fluent English amidst a sea of red headed Weasleys.

“Er…hi Fleur. What are you doing here? I mean, here in Britain not here at my party…I mean you're welcome at the party,” he stammered.

“I have been working at Gringotts and”

“and spending time with me. Now clear out you lot, the lady is spoken for,” teased Bill, trying to shoo his brothers away from her. Fleur laughed but Harry could hear a low growling from behind him. He turned and noticed Hermione watching the commotion around Fleur with narrowed eyes. He was going to say something to her but then he noticed something sitting behind the stands. His eyes grew wide as he slowly walked towards it.

A large, black motorcycle covered with polished chrome stood behind the stands.

Harry's eyes grew round as saucers. “What is that?” he whispered. “Is it…”

“That was the pride and joy of Sirius, Harry. He spent more than a year working out the various charms and enchantments on it. It's truly one of a kind, as was Sirius,” explained Lupin.

“We reckoned he woulda wanted yeh to have it, Harry,” finished Hagrid.

“But it is to stay here, and under no circumstances is it to leave these grounds until after graduation.” McGonagall then accomplished the incredible feat of glaring at both Ron and Harry simultaneously as she finished her final sentence. “If it so much as gets within a mile of Hogwarts grounds…” Harry nodded his understanding before she even finished the threat.

Harry moved closer to the bike, his hand itching to grasp the handlebars but stopped when Hagrid spoke. Harry didn't notice that Arthur was right beside him, looking at the bike with extreme enthusiasm.

“They can be a bit tricky ter ride, Harry. I wouldn't want yeh fallin off at a hundred feet up, so I'll give you some lessons later, if yeh want,” offered Hagrid.

“Falling off at a hundred…do you mean it can really fly, Hagrid?” asked Harry with a puzzled look on his face.

“Look at the motorcycle more closely, Harry, and see if you can determine what sort of enchantments young Mr. Black placed on it,” urged McGonagall.

Harry walked around the bike carefully, examining it closely. Then he placed a palm over it and muttered a few low words. He opened his eyes and exclaimed, “Wow! It has a flying charm, a stabilization charm to prevent spills, a modified return charm that will enable the bike to fly itself home, a shelter charm to protect you from the elements, especially against the cold and thin air, and two acceleration charms. I'll bet this thing is faster than my Firebolt! Maybe I should…”

“Yes, yes, Harry, let's see what it can do…” urged a very enthusiastic Arthur Weasley. Harry was sitting on the bike reaching for the handlebars when he and Arthur looked up and saw the stern looks from McGonagall, Molly, and Hermione. “Perhaps some other time,” finished Arthur somewhat awkwardly.

Reluctantly, Harry dismounted the bike and walked back to the group. “Thank you Remus and Hagrid. Thank you everyone, for this wonderful birthday surprise. It's really too much—I don't know what to say except thank you.”

Harry looked around again at everyone in the stands and on the field. “But where are your folks, Hermione? Didn't you invite them?” asked Harry.

“They had to attend one of their conferences,” she replied, still glaring daggers at the beautiful French girl by Bill's side.

“Snape and Draco couldn't make it?” asked Harry, looking at Dumbledore.

“They had prior commitments, unfortunately,” replied Dumbledore, “but they sent their regrets as well as a present, I believe.”

“Probably a vial of poison,” commented Ron sourly.

Harry gave him a sharp look.

“If one of you is tired, I'll take your spot in the game,” offered Ginny. Ron looked around but nobody seemed willing or anxious to sit out.

“Sorry, Gin, but it looks like the teams are even right now.”

Before Ginny could reply, Harry asked Hermione if she wanted to play. “No thanks. I don't like flying in crowds.” “I just like to fly with you, Harry, like on that afternoon at Hogwarts down by the lake when you were supposed to be taking a nap in the infirmary.” She smiled and Harry felt his heart flip.

“How does she do that to me?” he asked himself.

“It's my secret power, Harry.” she teased and he noticed her smile grow much wider as it spread across her face.

“Stop eavesdropping like that,” commanded Harry and tried to shake his head to clear it and raise his mental defenses. Hermione just smirked with that know-it-all look that he loved.

“I'll fly, if it will make the teams even,” offered a deep voice. Everyone looked to Samuel. “And if you have a spare broom.”

Arthur cut in, “I'm not sure that would be such a good idea, Samuel.”

“And why not? Afraid I might hurt one of the kids?”

“Actually, no. Knowing my children, I'm afraid that one, or perhaps two of them,” he replied looking at the twins, “might hurt you.”

All of the Weasley boys and Harry started laughing. Samuel joined in a moment later. “Good one, Arthur,” he chuckled.

“Right then, Harry. As host, you should provide the broom. Now hurry up there,” laughed Fred.

“Uhh—well,” started Harry.

“Good grief, man! This is your house isn't it?” asked George.

“Well, yeah, I guess. But I've only been here a couple of hours. I don't know where to look.”

With a wide smirk on his face, Charlie suggested, “Why don't you try a broom closet, mate? Where else would you keep a broom? Why don't you show him where it is Hermione?” Then in a lower voice meant to be heard only by his brothers, he added, “You seem to know your way around a house.”

As the Weasley boys chuckled, Charlie's smile and their laughter died under the withering looks of Molly, Minerva, Hermione and Ginny. He gulped and tried to apologize, “Just a joke, mum, Professor. Uhh, on second thought Harry, I think I'll help you find the closet.”

Charlie guided Harry back towards the house as his mother spoke to their backs, “And you can do all the dishes tonight, Charles Finnigan Weasley, to help you learn your way around a house. One more smart aleck remark like that and you can have Christmas dinner on your own. No son of mine talks like that to a…”

“Nice one, Charlie,” smirked Harry once they were well out of earshot of the group outside. “Remind me not to ask you for advice about girls. I think you've been out too long with the dragons.”

“Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know they all have superior hearing? Sheesh! Now where is that broom closet? Ahh, here we go.”

Inside the closet on one side of the back porch were a dozen excellent flying brooms. “Nice collection you have here, Harry. You have a couple of Nimbus 2000's, some Starstreaker 2001's and some late model Skysweepers and Clouddusters. Nothing in the league of your Firebolt, but very good brooms nonetheless. Which one should we pick for him?”

With a wide smile, Harry asked, “Which one is the slowest, clumsiest of the lot?”

With a smile as wide as Harry's, Charlie picked up a Skysweeper. “Want me to knock it around a bit, first? Tear out some stabilizing twigs?”

“Nah,” laughed Harry. “We don't want to make it too obvious.”

When they returned, Samuel looked at the Skysweeper and then at the other brooms. “You're kidding right? Fancy house like this and this is the best you got?”

“Well, you could always borrow my old Nimbus 2000, but you might have a hard time finding a piece big enough to sit down on,” chuckled Harry, soon followed by the other Weasleys.

Dumbledore pointed out wisely, “Samuel, I am afraid that beggars cannot be choosers.”

“Fine, fine,” grumbled Samuel. “Who wants me?”

There was complete silence for thirty seconds while the Weasleys and Harry looked at each other and Samuel quietly. Then the twins burst out together crying, “We want Ginny!”

“What?!” roared Samuel. “You picked the girl before me?!?! That's it! Give me one of the beater clubs!”

Once again laughter burst out from everyone except for Samuel. If the game before had been frantic, the one that ensued was played at breakneck speed. Fred and George took turns watching the goals and playing Beater while Ginny played at her natural position of Chaser. Harry of course was the Seeker matched on the other side by Charlie. Both occasionally played Chaser as well. Ron played Keeper, while Bill played Chaser. And Samuel was an overenthusiastic Beater with incredible aim. Only the exceptional flying skills of Harry and the twins kept them from getting knocked out of the sky. Ginny managed to score a few goals on Ron, while Bill had a much easier time against the twins. Two hours into the match and down a hundred points, Harry realized that it was up to him to win the game for his team—they were not going to be able to dig themselves out of such a deep hole with Ron guarding the goals. Dodging bludgers from Samuel and with Charlie marking his every move and not falling for his feints, Harry was having a difficult time concentrating on locating the snitch. Pitching, diving and rolling around the field, Harry finally glimpsed a glint of gold a dozen feet behind the goal being guarded by Ron. Glimpsing another dive by Ginny below him as she sped towards the goal, Harry dove, too, as if he were trying to clear the way to the goal, with Charlie in close pursuit. Sensing it rather than seeing it, he dodged quickly to his left as another bludger flew past his ear.

“The snitch! Behind you Ron! Behind you!” screamed Charlie, who realized he would not be able to catch Harry on the Firebolt. Ron looked nervously over his shoulder and then back in front as Ginny and Harry sped towards the goal. Fifty feet away from the goal, Harry lurched to the side as Samuel slammed his broom sideways into him.

“Time to go down, hero!” grunted Samuel as he used his heavier weight to slowly force Harry down and to the side, slowing him considerably and providing Ron time to turn on his broom and dive for the snitch. As Ginny soared past the pair, she drove a knee into the back of Samuel's shoulder, knocking him off balance slightly. He grunted and then laughed as he leaned again to apply pressure on Harry. However, instead of pushing back against him, Harry rolled right over the side of his broom. He continued his roll underneath the broom and as he came up again, he pushed Samuel, who was already off balance from having pushed Harry. While Samuel managed to hang on to his broom, he quickly fell into a nose dive towards the ground. Unfortunately for Samuel, he made an appealing target that neither of the twins were able to resist. The spectators winced as they heard the dull thuds of the Bludgers pound solidly into his side right before he plowed into the turf.

Meanwhile, Ginny was speeding towards the goal and Harry was quickly catching up to her. But Ron had decided to go for the snitch and was only five feet away from it when it started to move towards Harry and Ginny. Harry adjusted his angle to shoot right through one of the hoops and intercept the moving snitch. Ginny lined up her shot and fired. Bill started laughing as the shot went wide but then stopped when Ron had to duck and dive on his broom, barely avoiding the Quaffle thrown by Ginny. Then the snitch changed direction again. Harry and Ron collided as they both changed direction to pursue the snitch with Charlie about twenty feet behind. When the snitch dropped again, Harry rolled on his broom to an inverted position. Hanging by his legs, his fingers just barely reached around the snitch. Ron had tried to dive lower, but even with his longer arms couldn't reach the snitch but got his fingers tangled up in Harry's sleeve. As Harry's hands closed around the snitch, Ron jerked his hand back in frustration pulling Harry off his broom. Ron reached his hand back out to grab Harry, but his fingers couldn't get a firm hold on his wrist before Harry fell towards the ground. Then Harry simply disappeared.

“Harry!” screamed Ron. It was echoed by Hermione from the stands.

“What's all the fuss about? I've had much harder landings than that,” laughed Harry, now sitting behind Hermione.

Spinning around, Hermione slapped him on the shoulder. “That's not funny, Harry!”

“Would you rather I bit the turf like our friend Samuel out there?”

As Harry and Hermione finished their discussion, the rest of the Weasleys were landing as a figure slowly limped off of the pitch towards the stands.

“You know, you could have brained me with that Quaffle!” roared Ron at Ginny.

“You mean like when you threw Harry off his broom? Don't you want a seeker this year?” countered Ginny.

“Easy, easy you two,” urged Harry. “It was just a game. A very competitive game, but just a game. Ron wasn't throwing me off, he tried to catch me. It was just an accident.”

“Well, what about the Quaffle?”

Harry glanced at Ginny and smiled. “Well, that probably wasn't an accident. But relax, she's on our team at school.”

The various discussions died down as Samuel limped up to the stands. With a scowl on his face, he looked at the various Weasley boys and then glared at Harry. Then he burst into laughter. “You were right Arthur, they do play rough. Even the girl,” Samuel added as he rubbed his shoulder. “Now that was a well played Quidditch match. It reminds me of the way we play it in the States. Of course, we don't use the little golden golfball with wings and we use two more Bludgers. Oh, and of course everyone has a Beater club. But this was still pretty fun. Good game.” He then limped into the house.

The Weasley boys and Harry just stared at him in disbelief as he walked in.

“Uhh, Dad,” started Ron, “is that why American teams never get invited to the World Quidditch Cup?”

“I would imagine so, Ron,” was his father's answer.

“Well, if you children are done trying to knock each other senseless, I have dinner and Harry's birthday cake waiting for us back at our house. Dumbledore has been good enough to make a portkey for us to use tonight. Just touch the floppy hat laying on the table and say Birthday Party.”

Everyone started filing in when Hermione pulled Molly aside. “I have one final surprise for Harry. We'll just be a few minutes behind the rest of you.”

Molly's eyebrows rose, but she merely said, “Very well, but don't be too long, dear.”

While Harry was putting the brooms away in the broom closet, everyone else was in the kitchen using the portkey. Before he left, Hermione offered Samuel one of her SAPs, which he accepted with a bit of skepticism. After he took it, he gave Hermione a hearty thank you. Hermione was sitting by the table, all alone, when Harry came in from the back porch.

Seeing they were all alone, Harry grinned. “Would you care for a quick spin around the pitch? It doesn't seem to be too crowded. Maybe on the motorcycle?”

“I'd love to, Harry. But not on the motorcycle just yet—you don't even know how to run it yet. The Firebolt will be fine.” Taking his arm, she followed him outside. A moment later he was kicking off the ground on his Firebolt, with Hermione riding behind him, holding him tightly. As they soared upward, Harry explained that the Weasley boys, with the help of Dumbledore, had charmed the field so that nobody from Hogsmeade could see or hear them playing on the pitch. “We could even have Gryffindor practices here,” he explained excitedly, “we wouldn't have to worry about scheduling time with the other teams!”

“Yeah, I'm sure McGonagall would have absolutely no problem with that,” replied Hermione sarcastically.

“Well, she doesn't need to know.”

“I don't think I want to know.”

“Well, forget I mentioned it then.”

“I already have.”

“It's beautiful up here,” whispered Harry. From their vantage point, they could see the lights being lit in the town of Hogsmeade, and further off, the silhouette of Hogwarts castle looming over the Forbidden Forest and the lake. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder.

“Take us down over there,” she whispered in his ear, pointing to a balcony on the third floor. Harry did as he was directed, setting them down gently on a spacious deck that overlooked the Quidditch pitch and had two large glass doors that opened into the house.

“Aside from the library, the remaining rooms on the second and third floors are guest rooms, a couple of bathrooms, and some other rooms that you can adapt for whatever use you want. This, however, is the room I wanted to show you. The master suite—I think you'll like it a bit better than your old room under the stairs. Come on, I have one final surprise for you.” As Hermione pushed Harry through the French doors, she missed Harry's look of puzzlement.

When he stepped through, his jaw dropped in amazement. There was a huge bed, all decked out in Gryffindor gold and red, several chests and wardrobes, a small worktable with several chairs, another TV and small stereo on one side of the room with a small fireplace and several plush chairs in front of it, and of course, more bookcases lining the walls. Harry just stood and spun, speechless. He followed Hermione as she showed him the huge bathroom, with a tub only slightly smaller than the one in the Prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts. When they walked back into the bedroom, Harry finally found his voice. “Wow. This is amazing. I can't believe you all did this for me. This goes beyond my wildest dreams.”

“So you like it?” asked Hermione.

“I love it! And I love you!” he exclaimed as he caught Hermione up in his arms and gave her a huge kiss. When Hermione returned the kiss just as strongly, Harry tightened his arms around her. For a moment, he thought maybe he shouldn't, but when Hermione hugged him tighter, he shook off any nagging doubts. A bit off balance, he stepped forward to try and regain it. He tripped on one of Hermione's shoelaces and began to tumble forward. He tried to catch himself, but he had already knocked Hermione backwards, and she pulled him down with her. They landed in a jumble on the huge bed. At Harry's puzzled look, Hermione laughed. Harry listened for a moment to that magical, enchanting sound and then leaned forward and kissed her again. Hermione hesitated for a moment, but when Harry ran his fingers down the side of her cheek and neck, she returned the kiss. Harry tried to pull her close to him again, but got tangled up in the quilt and ended up tumbling on top of her. He leaned down and kissed her again and she kissed him back. His mind whirling, he lost all sense of time as they continued to exchange kisses. Then he thought he heard Hermione trying to say something. He mumbled “I love you, too,” back and kept kissing her.

“Stop it Harry! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop!!!”

Harry's eyes flew wide open and he jumped backwards, falling off the bed in a tumble as if Hermione had hit him with a banishing spell.

Crawling to his knees, he looked up at a hysterical Hermione. “What the …” he started.

“I said stop it, Harry! This is all wrong. Don't you understand?”

“What?!? No! I don't understand. What's the matter?”

“Us! Here! Like this! Do you realize what could have happened?”

“Well, yeah. But I thought you wanted to…”

“NOOO! Harry! I thought you knew me better than that! This was all a horrible mistake!”

“A mistake! What are you talking about?!?! I love you!!! There's no mistake about that! And I thought you loved me! But maybe that's where the mistake is!”

“WHAT?!?!”

“You heard me! And if you didn't, you certainly could have read my mind! You're good at that! I thought we loved each other. And if we love each other, what is so wrong with showing it by…”

“And what bloody moron gave you that wonderful insight into relationships? Ron? One of your other roommates? One of the twins? Malfoy? Sirius, maybe? Because it sure as hell wasn't anyone that knows a damn thing about women!!!”

“Now it's my fault that I didn't have good role models to bring me up right?!?! It's my fault that anyone that might have taught me whatever the hell you think it is that I'm supposed to know died!!! Last time I checked, Voldemort killed both of my parents when I was a year old. Guess old Dumbledore should have found me a better pair of foster parents that the Dursleys. I guess Sirius should have broken out of Azkaban sooner, but that wouldn't have made any difference—apparently he was not up to your high and mighty standards!!! I'm sooo sorry! Maybe you know a book I could read that will help me sort it out!!”

“I thought you had enough common sense to figure this out on your own. Obviously, I was wrong. You're just as thickheaded and dimwitted as most boys your age!!!”

“Well I'm sorry if I can't read your mind! That's your specialty, not mine!! I thought I was reading the clues—I have one more surprise, Harry…I want to show you the bedroom, Harry—What the hell was I supposed to think!!!”

“WHAT!!! You think I set this up so that we could…”

“Well, you waited till everybody was gone and it was just the two of us. I have another surprise, Harry—Come in here, Harry.”

“And you automatically assumed…”

“I didn't assume anything!”

There was silence for a moment as the two glowered at each other in the very warm room.

“So what was this surprise supposed to be?” snarled Harry.

Hermione spun on her heel and stomped towards one of the bureaus. She picked up a flat, rectangular object and spat out, “You don't deserve it anymore.” She then hurled it like a fanged frisbee right at Harry's head. When he ducked, it smashed into the wall and he heard the sound of breaking glass. When he looked up again, Hermione was standing by the open glass doors with his Firebolt.

“Now Mione, you're not that good of a flyer, be careful with…”

“Shut up Harry! Don't worry about your precious little broomstick—I'm not going to break it!”

“That's not what I meant…” growled an angry Harry.

“And don't try and follow me, Harry. I don't want to ever see you again. EVER!!!” With that, she mounted the broom and flew off into the night.

“Good!!” shouted Harry into the darkness. “The same goes double for me!!” Then he slammed the doors shut. He turned and looked at the mess by the far wall and went over to inspect it, fuming. Picking up the golden cloth that had been covering the present, he saw shattered glass and a broken wooden frame but no evidence of a picture.

Looking back at the bureau, he saw another cloth covered frame, probably another picture. He stalked angrily over to it and snatched the fabric off. The undamaged picture was a wizard portrait, one of a young man with dark hair and glasses and a woman with beautiful, long red hair and green eyes. They both looked out at him very sadly. They then turned to look to the side of the picture as a slightly shorter young woman with long, curly brown hair ran sobbing into the picture, right into the arms of the woman who gave her a huge, comforting hug. The man stood for a moment uncomfortably, then put his arms around the pair of crying women, and with a last, sad glance at Harry, led the two women off the edge of the picture. Harry collapsed onto the edge of the bed, and dropped his head into his hands and began sobbing. He didn't notice the slight trembling of the floor over the shaking of his own shoulders.

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Ch 10 Reflection and Reconciliation

Around the Weasley living room, Arthur, Samuel and Lupin were chatting amiably, the Weasley boys were along one side of the wall laughing as they talked about the recent Quidditch game, the Professors were quietly discussing the upcoming school year, and Ginny was helping her mother put the finishing touches on Harry's birthday cake. Dobby was in the kitchen, whistling happily by the stove.

Finished, Molly went over and muttered to Arthur, “I have a bad feeling about this. Hermione said they would be here in a few minutes. That was nearly half an hour ago. Do you suppose they had trouble with the portkey? What if…”

“I'm sure they're fine, Molly. They can both Apparate, and besides they can take care of themselves. Harry's one of the most powerful wizards and Hermione's one of the cleverest witches I know. I'm sure there is nothing they can't figure out between the two of them. They're nearly adults, after all. Just relax, Molly. Everything will turn out just…”

With a loud pop, Hermione appeared in the middle of the living room seated on Harry's Firebolt. Her blouse and skirt were tousled, her hair was a bushy mess, and her eyes were red and puffy, with streaks of makeup where she had been crying. As she stepped off of the broom, Ron asked the obvious question.

“Blimey, Hermione! What happened to you? And where's Harry?”

Hermione moved to stand directly in front of Ron, who with his brothers, backed up a step when they noticed the smoldering anger simmering behind her eyes. Taking a grip on the broom handle as if it were a baseball bat, Hermione roared back, “I don't ever want to hear that name again!!!” and swung the broom with all of her strength right at Ron's head. Luckily, he ducked, as did the rest of his brothers as the broom whistled above their heads. Angry at having missed, Hermione aimed lower as she wound up for a tremendous backswing. Samuel's hand on the handle prevented her from decapitating an entire generation of Weasleys, and with a quick twist he pulled it from her hands. Undaunted, Hermione brushed past him and stomped up the stairs.

“Miss Granger, I am truly sorry for having to ask,” murmured Dumbledore, “but do you know where we might find Mr. Potter?”

Pausing on the steps, Hermione looked at Dumbledore with fresh tears in her eyes. “I left that bloody idiot in his new house. And he can rot in it for all I care!!!” She then turned and ran up the stairs. Silence reigned in the living room until a slamming door rattled the walls so hard that four pictures fell from their nails. Faces filled with shock and confusion looked at one another for several moments.

Fred looked at George and commented, “Blimey! I wonder how many pieces she left him in.”

Minerva made a move as if to get up, but paused when Molly passed by her and whispered, “Let me talk to her first.” Ginny offered to go up as well, but Molly told her, “Not right now, sweetie. I think she needs a mother right now.” Molly climbed up the stairs and everyone held their breath, half expecting a magical explosion. When none came, there was a collective sigh of relief.

George added, “Give mum some credit, she's got courage, she does. No spell on earth could have made me go up to talk to Hermione right now. Have you ever seen her so wound up, Ron?”

Ron simply shook his head. “I've made her plenty mad, plenty of times, but I've never seen her like this before.”

Dumbledore then spoke. “I believe it is imperative that we check in on Harry. If he is half as upset as Miss Granger right now…well, we need to find him quickly.” Lupin, Samuel, Hagrid, and the Weasley men Apparated to Hogsmeade to begin looking for Harry. When they noticed the slight shaking of the buildings, Dumbledore looked very concerned. “He's still close by, perhaps still in the house. We need to find him soon.”

*-*-*

Cradling Hermione's head in her lap, Molly soothed her and calmed her as Hermione slowly explained what had happened. There was a light knock on the door and Ginny came in, ran to Hermione, and gave her a big hug. Molly left the two girls shortly afterward and headed downstairs. The men had returned, having searched both Hogswarts and Hogsmeade thoroughly, but without any luck. Luckily, the light earthquakes had ceased, though many of the inhabitants were still extremely nervous. When Molly came down the stairs she halted on one of the landings and looked at Dumbledore, Lupin, and Arthur in turn. “I need to talk to you three in the kitchen,” and with a menacing glare at her boys, “and nobody else.”

As she pushed open the door, Molly shot a quick glance at Dobby, who beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen. With the other three men looking at Molly, she gave a very brief explanation of what had happened. “Luckily, they both stopped before they got too carried away. I will talk to Hermione, but one of you needs to talk to Harry. He needs to talk with a man, not one of his mates from school.” Looking at Dumbledore and Lupin, she asked, “Haven't either of you ever had a serious talk with Harry about girls?”

Both Dumbledore and Lupin looked very uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of Molly.

“Err…well, uhh…you see, Molly, I -uhh—consider myself to be more of a grandfather figure to the students even though I never had children of my own and uhhh…well, with everything else that has been going on in young Harry's life I never really thought about the need to…uhh, well, you know…talk to him about…err—that sort of thing.”

Arthur smiled slightly and looked down at the floor while Molly rolled her eyes in exasperation at the stuttering Headmaster. Then she turned to glare at Lupin. “And what's your sorry excuse?”

Lupin's grin faded instantly under her withering stare. “Oh, well, uhh, since I'm a werewolf I never expected to have any children and…I don't think my dad and I ever discussed it, I thought maybe Sirius had covered that…err…”

“Oh, and what a fine little talk that would have been with Sirius, God rest his soul. I thought I might have found better role models in here for Harry…maybe I should go ask Samuel for some help. Or maybe the twins can give him some useful advice,” snorted Molly.

“Relax, Molly, Albus, Remus. I'll have a chat with Harry. Heaven knows I've had plenty of practice giving the talk to my own boys. But we still have to find him,” replied Arthur.

“I am fairly certain he is still in the new house. Unfortunately, we cannot Apparate or floo there now that the protections have been reset. However, the old tunnel under the Whomping Willow should still connect to the basement. I do not believe that passage was sealed. Remus and I can help you get past the tree,” offered Dumbledore, having regained his legendary composure.

*-*-*

After Arthur, Lupin, and Dumbledore had left, Molly returned to the living room.

“I believe it is fairly apparent that there will be no more festivities this evening. Arthur, Lupin, and Dumbledore have left to check on Harry, and I will check in on Hermione again later.” Looking at her boys she explained, “You lot will be sleeping either down here or out back in sleeping bags and the girls will be upstairs.” At the first sign of protest, she continued, “We don't want to be disturbed.”

“And the rest of us will be leaving as well, Molly,” announced Professor McGonagall. “I would like to stop by to check on Hermione tomorrow as well.”

“Of course, Minerva. Good night. And Charlie, don't forget to clean up the kitchen.” As Samuel, Hagrid, and Minerva left, Molly was conjuring bags for her sons on the floor. “Good night, boys,” she said as she climbed the stairs.

*-*-*

As Dumbledore, Lupin, and Arthur climbed up the hill towards Hogwarts, they felt the rolling thunder and witnessed the flashing lightening in the skies above Hogsmeade.

“We need to hurry. Harry must regain control of his emotions,” urged Dumbledore.

Gasping from their run, they paused, just out of reach of the Whomping Willow. Aiming carefully, Dumbledore's wand shot out a bright flash of red light and they took a tentative step forward. When the limbs did not try and crush them, they rushed forward, opened the concealed door, and entered the hidden tunnel. Arthur argued it would be best if he entered the house alone to talk to Harry. The other two decided to head to Hogsmeade to help the residents if they needed. Arthur moved quickly along the tunnel. Opening the trapdoor into the cellar of the house, Arthur noticed how bitterly cold it felt. Lifting his lighted wand aloft, he hurried quickly towards the stairs.

*-*-*

Molly reentered Ginny's room and glanced for a minute at the two girls huddled there on the bed. Hermione's head was leaning on Ginny's shoulder as Ginny gently stroked Hermione's tangled hair.

“Ginny, dear, you can use one of your brothers' rooms tonight. They're either sleeping downstairs or in the backyard in bags. I need to talk to Hermione for a little bit.”

“I don't want to talk anymore. I'm tired of talking,” mumbled Hermione.

As Ginny got up and left after giving Hermione another hug, Molly replied, “Suit yourself dear. We can talk tonight or first thing in the morning. But we're going to have a little talk.”

With a hint of anger, Hermione replied, “Fine, let's get it over with.”

“Good choice dearie. Now,” she continued as she pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of Hermione on the bed, “why do you think this happened?”

“What?!?! Because Harry's an insensitive, hormone-crazy git who…”

“Any other names you'd like to throw out there while you're at it? It's best to just get it out of your system. Go ahead. You've already used idiot and git. How about prat, jerk, buffoon, moron, creep, wanker…or would you like some stronger ones? Off the top of my head I can think of…”

“No, that's enough for now I think,” answered Hermione, slightly in shock.

“Fine, then we can continue. You've told me what happened. Now I want you to tell me why you think it happened.”

“Well, he started kissing me and then I…”

“Before that. Why did he start kissing you?”

“Well, I had just finished showing him the bathroom and the master bedroom and he was very happy still about the whole house and everything we had done for him.”

“And why were you two alone in the bedroom?”

“I just said I was showing it to him.”

“I know, but why didn't you show it to him earlier when Ron or somebody else was around?”

“I wanted it to be a special surprise, just me and him.”

“I see.”

“Oh, I see. You're taking his side! You think this is all my fault! That I'm some kind of tramp or…”

“HERMIONE! That's enough. I am not trying to figure out who to blame. There's enough blame to go around for both of you. I just want you to step back for a moment and try to understand how the two of you found yourselves in a situation I don't believe for one moment either of you wished to happen.”

Hermione thought quietly for a moment. “Well, I kept him behind on purpose so that we could be alone for a few minutes. He offered to take me up on his broom for a few minutes which was nice. Then I told him to land on the balcony outside of the bedroom…”

“So it wasn't his idea to go to the bedroom?”

“No, I told him to take us to the balcony, then I had to practically push him through the doors into the bedroom…oh no! Molly! You have to believe me! I had no intention of…I just wanted to show him the rooms and then the painting and photo I had made for him!”

“Shhh…There, there, Hermione. I believe you,” soothed Molly. “Do you see where Harry might have been a little confused?”

“Well, yeah, maybe, but still…”

“How did you both end up on the bed?”

“Well, he said he loved the house and everything we had done for him, then he told me he loved me, then he kissed me and I kissed him right back. Then he hugged me tighter and I did the same, then I felt him stumble a bit, then he fell forward, bumping into me and I was falling backwards and I grabbed onto his arms and uhhh…”

“Go on.”

“Well, he looked so funny when we fell on the bed, like he had no clue what was happening. I started laughing and he gave me another kiss.”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“Noo! Well, not at first. He did this brushing thing with his fingers on the side of my face and then I kissed him back. Then he tried to kiss me some more and I told him to stop but he didn't.”

“You tried to tell him to stop while you were kissing? How did you do that?”

“Well, I distinctly said…uhh…oh…”

“Did you push him away or do anything else that you wanted him to stop?”

“Well, uhh, no, not until I started screaming at him.”

“You already said that, Hermione.”

“No, I mean screaming at him telepathically.”

“Did he stop then?”

“Yeah, he did. He jumped backwards so fast he fell off the bed.”

“Hmmmm.” Molly let Hermione sit and think for several minutes. “Once again, Hermione, I want to ask you why you think this happened tonight.”

“I don't know…It just happened.”

“Oh don't give me that, Hermione. You're much smarter than that. Tell me why you think this happened tonight.”

Hermione sat for another minute or so, chewing her lip. “Fine. I put us in a bad situation where it became very easy for our emotions to get out of control.”

“Good, but not entirely correct. You both should have known better than to stay too long alone together, especially in a place like a bedroom. That's just asking for trouble. Either one of you could have and should have stopped and said `Let's go back with the others at the Burrow.' But neither of you did. The blame lies as much with Harry as it does with you Hermione.

But you are right about your emotions. You and Harry have been through some remarkable experiences together and you have grown very close. Of course, the fact that you can communicate telepathically and see into each other's mind on occasion brings you even closer. But as you saw tonight, emotions can be very powerful, especially between two people who are deeply in love. That's a good and wonderful thing. But it also means you need to be careful.

Now Arthur is going to go talk to Harry. I seriously doubt the Dursleys gave him any useful guidance about treating women. I'm afraid the only influence or advice Harry has received has come from his friends at school.”

With a half smile, Hermione cut in, “Uh, yeah. I think we discussed that briefly right before I flew off on his Firebolt.”

“Yes, dear. I imagine there might be a few things you two will want to discuss again in a calmer environment. My point was that you might have to help Harry as well learn to deal with his emotions better. I've noticed an incredible difference in him over the last couple of months, mostly due to your influence I believe, but it will probably take more time. I know you don't forget, but remember that he never had a family or anybody who cared for him until he first attended Hogwarts.”

With tears running down her cheeks, Hermione asked earnestly, “Do you think we'll be able to work things out? What if he hates me now? I said some really terrible things to him. What if, what if…”

Clasping Hermione tightly in her arms, Molly gently rocked her. “Don't worry dear, things will all work out. Every couple has their rows now and then. Don't you worry, it will be OK. I promise.”

Twenty minutes later, she left an exhausted Hermione sleeping soundly on Ginny's bed. As she gently closed her door, she whispered a silent prayer that Arthur had found Harry and had had a good chat with him as well.

*-*-*

As Arthur climbed the stair to the third floor, he could feel the floor rumble from the power of the growing storm outside. Shouting out Harry's name as he ran through the hallways, he paused outside of the door leading to Harry's bedroom. He knocked loudly and when there was no response, he opened the door. He quickly saw the broken picture by the wall and then focused on the two glass doors swinging wildly on their hinges. A bolt of lightening illuminated the form of a figure shaking his fists in the air. Arthur quickly crossed the room and stepped outside.

“Why?!?! What did I do?!?! I love her!!! What have I done?!?!” At each shouted phrase, there was a powerful clap of thunder and a brilliant bolt of lightening. And the storm's fury increased.

Arthur clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder and spun him around. Harry spun with the move, slid his hand down Arthur's arm to latch powerfully onto the wrist, rolled the arm over so that the elbow was on top, and then Harry slapped down with his free palm, driving Arthur to his knees.

As Arthur groaned in pain Harry threatened to dislocate his elbow and growled, “Who are you?! Why are you bothering me?!”

Arthur looked up into Harry's face and almost couldn't recognize Harry through the agonized expression he wore. “It's Arthur. I've come to talk to you, Harry. You need to calm down. This storm will destroy the village of Hogsmeade. You must calm down,” he gasped through pain-clenched teeth. There was no reaction. Arthur was forced lower and lower. “Harry, stop. Harry! Please stop!” The pain was becoming excruciating, he needed to get Harry's attention. “Son! Please stop and listen to me.”

Harry froze and blinked in astonishment, then his eyes cleared for a moment. He then reached down and pulled Arthur back to his feet and cried out, “I'm sorry Arthur, I'm so sorry. I…I didn't recognize you.”

Arthur gave him a hug and replied, “It's OK, Harry. You need to calm down. The storm…”

“I'm trying,” whispered Harry in an anxious tone. “I'm trying.”

“Come downstairs to the kitchen, I'll put on a pot of cocoa for us,” urged Arthur as he guided Harry inside and closed the doors. Harry just followed quietly.

After starting the pot of cocoa, Arthur cast a quick drying spell on Harry and then lit a fire in the fireplace at the far edge of the kitchen. Harry just sat in his chair at the table and stared at his folded hands. The storm outside sounded like it was winding down. When Arthur put a warm cup of cocoa in his hands, he drank it numbly. After a second cup, he looked up at Arthur with a painful look in his eyes and said quietly, “I've lost her, Arthur. I've driven away the person who mattered most to me in the entire world. What am I going to do?”

“Have another cup and then we'll talk,” urged Arthur.

Sipping quietly, Harry waited for Arthur to start.

“Harry, Molly has been talking with Hermione, and she suggested that I come to have a little chat with you as well. I don't think things are as bad as you imagine.”

“So everybody knows what happened?”

“Molly only spoke with Albus, Remus, and I. She didn't give us any details. Everyone else that was there only knows that Hermione was very upset about something and there was some initial concern about whether you were still alive or not.”

“What?”

“Well, Ron asked where you were when Hermione showed up at the Burrow without you and she nearly lobbed off his head with your broom before Samuel grabbed it.”

Harry's half grin quickly disappeared. “If she's that upset at the mere mention of my name, it's over. She'll never talk to me again.”

“Easy there, Harry. Like I said, Molly's talking to her now. She's in good hands. But there's a few things you and I need to discuss first.”

“Like what?” asked Harry.

“Like how you got into this mess to begin with.”

“Hey! It wasn't my idea for the two of us to stay behind. It wasn't my idea to go to the bedroom. It…”

“And you could have stopped it at any point. It doesn't matter whose idea it was, Harry. One of you needed to step up and make the decision to return to our home, and neither of you did.”

“But I love her, Arthur. And I thought she loved me.”

“You do. And she still does, Harry.”

“But…”

“But nothing Harry. Look, I'm sorry nobody has had this talk with you sooner, but better late than never.”

Blushing slightly, Harry replied, “Arthur, I already know all about how…”

“Yes, I'm sure you do. But I'm talking about a more important talk. There is more to love than just the physical aspects, Harry. Surely you understand that much at least.”

“Of course I do,” retorted Harry angrily.

“Good. Then this will be a short talk. When Hermione told you to stop, what did you do?”

“I stopped. Why?”

“Right when she asked you to?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you stop right when she asked you to do so? If what you wanted to do was right, if it was natural, if it was just what two people in love normally do, why did you stop right away?”

Harry just looked at Arthur for a few minutes thinking. “I guess because if she felt uncomfortable, then maybe it wasn't the right thing to do.”

“Good. Did you have any hesitations before that moment? Any thoughts that maybe this wasn't the best thing to be doing?”

“Well, yeah. But Hermione seemed to think it was a good idea, at least until, well, she said no.”

“Now why might you have had second thoughts, even before Hermione told you no?”

“Uhh, because it wasn't the right thing to be doing in the first place?”

“I think we can both agree to that, Harry. There is a time and place for everything Harry. From what I know of Hermione, I imagine she and her family share the belief with my family that sex before marriage is a very bad idea. Now I'm sure many of your classmates, and indeed, much of the Muggle world, and even many in the Wizarding world would disagree. That's beside the point. It's not important what they think. Have you ever discussed this with Hermione?”

“No, it never came up. I never gave it much thought.”

“Well, it's about time you do. Let me tell you why Molly and I think it is important, and why we've tried to teach this idea to our children.

The intimate experiences that a husband and wife can share are very special, very personal and they should only be shared between two people who have made very special commitments to each other—in other words, two people that are married. To do otherwise cheapens the experience, makes it less precious, despite what the rest of the world or some of your friends might say.

Real love is not about instant physical gratification. It's about commitment, and sacrifice, and lots of hard work. And it exists on many different levels, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual, in addition to the physical. Real love doesn't make demands or have to be proven to be true—it is giving and unselfish. Real love grows over time, and therefore isn't afraid to wait for the right moment. That's why Molly and I waited, that's why we tell our children to wait, that's why I'm telling you to wait until you're sure you've found the right person and made the commitment to be there for her forever before you fully express your love for her.”

Harry sat still, thinking hard for several minutes about everything Arthur had just told him. Finally he responded. “Thanks, Arthur. You've given me a lot to think about. Do you think we'll be able to work things out?”

“I think you have a very good chance, Harry.”

“But how do I go about making this up to Hermione?”

Arthur sighed deeply. “Based on extensive personal experience, flowers make an excellent start.”

As Harry reached for the floppy hat, Arthur grasped his wrist. “I'd give her some more time to cool off first, Harry. Waiting until at least tomorrow morning to talk to her would be a good idea.”

“Thanks again, Arthur.”

*-*-*

When Hermione woke up in the morning and walked downstairs, she couldn't actually step off of the stairs because the room was covered in flowers. Off to her side, by the kitchen door, a large bush with flowers that were constantly changing colors shook as someone behind it sneezed.

“Bloody Harry. Why couldn't he just order flowers from a shop like a normal wizard instead of conjuring up a bloomin' garden patch in our living room.” Pushing aside the leaves, Ron turned around, rubbing his puffy red eyes and complaining, “Bloody allergies,” as he wandered back into the kitchen. He didn't notice Hermione there looking at the other beautiful flowers and budding plants. There were singing bushes, thornless roses, dipping daffodils, rainbow carnations, prancing pansies, several starflowers hovering in midair and blinking, and dozens of others. When she looked outside, there was a hundred different varieties she didn't know the names of swaying in the early morning breeze.

“Somebody sure wants to get your attention,” remarked Molly as she descended the stairs.

“Hmmph,” snorted Hermione. “I have half a mind to let him try a little harder.”

“From the looks of things, he's been trying very hard all night dear.”

“I know, I know. They are beautiful, aren't they?”

“They sure are dear.”

“And there are an awful lot of them, aren't there?”

“There are dear.”

“And it looks like he went to an awful lot of trouble, doesn't it?”

“It does dear.”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I would try the kitchen if I were you. I've noticed that young men spend an awful lot of time in there.”

“Thank's Molly, for everything,” exclaimed Hermione as she gave her a big hug and then wound her way through the living flower nursery to the kitchen.

“You're welcome dear,” murmured Molly.

When Hermione swung open the kitchen door she stood there for a moment as all movement at the table froze. “Has anyone seen Harry?” Nobody replied. “Oh, for crying out loud, I'm not going to hurt you.” The only response she noticed was that the twins and Bill and Charlie were slowly backing towards the kitchen door leading outside. “Oh, go on. Clear out you lot,” she yelled in exasperation at the four, who immediately turned and ran for the door. “You,” she pointed at Ron, “have you seen Harry?”

“Seen Harry? No, I just bloody woke up! And if I were him, I'd…”

The rest was a low mumble as Arthur clapped a hand over his mouth and pulled him towards the kitchen door. “I think we'll finish breakfast outside, Hermione. Good luck.” Arthur shut the door tightly behind him.

“Fat lotta help they were. Where are you Harry?” “Harry? Are you here?”

“I'm here.”

“You're here? Where?”

“Well, I wasn't sure you wanted to see me again. But I sure wanted to talk to you again. I'm…”

“Oh, Harry! I want to see you again! I didn't mean a word I said last night. Please, let me see you again.”

Harry uncloaked himself on the other side of the kitchen. He looked very pale and very tired. As the tears streamed down her face, Hermione ran to him and he caught her in his arms.

“Mione. I was so afraid I had lost you forever. I am so sorry about last night.”

“No, Harry it was all my fault, I'm so sorry.”

With tears rolling down their faces, they both started laughing.

“Here, let me get us something to eat while we talk,” suggested Harry.

“I'll help,” offered Hermione.

The next forty five minutes were silent except for the clatter of pans and plates as Hermione and Harry mindspoke to each other, apologizing and discussing the events of the previous evening. When they walked out the back door, with Harry's arm draped around Hermione's shoulders, it was to a standing ovation from the rest of the Weasley family.

When the cheers finally died down, Ron asked, “Does this mean I can finish my breakfast now? I'm starving. I think we still have some birthday cake left.”

Laughter followed him as he led the family back in the kitchen. Molly stopped and gave Arthur a big hug before they went in and joined their family.

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Ch 11 The Woes of Ron Weasley

Now that work on Harry's birthday gift was done, Molly, Ginny, Ron, Bill, and Charlie had a lot more spare time. Harry and Hermione spent a lot of time with them at either the Weasleys or at Harry's new house, in addition to their training with Saldar and Harry's lessons with Dumbledore. The twins were still busy with their joke shop, but made time each evening for Quidditch games at Harry's place. None of them became as competitive as those on Harry's birthday. And there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that even the twins followed to not even joke about the minor spat between Harry and Hermione.

Several days after the birthday party, their letters arrived from Hogwarts while they were having lunch at the Weasleys. The envelopes for Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were fairly thick, but Harry's was rather thin. Ginny nearly dropped her letter in shock when she found a prefect's badge inside. She excitedly ran off to find her mother to tell her the great news. Enthusiastic as ever, Hermione seemed honestly surprised when she received a head girl's badge. She quickly began browsing her course list and required books.

“Honestly Hermione, who did you think they were going to pick?” grumbled Ron.

In return, Ron was dumbfounded when he found, in addition to a prefect badge, a letter from Professor McGonagall asking him to be the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He ripped it out of the envelope and began doing a little victory dance around the table.

“Aren't you going to look at your list of classes and books?” asked Hermione.

“Who cares? I'm the Quidditch captain! I'm the Quidditch captain!”

“Well, you'll have to invite Katie to our matches. I'm sure she'll be very proud of you.”

Ron stopped dancing and looked at Harry oddly. “Probably not, mate. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

“You what?” asked a shocked Hermione, as she and Harry swapped incredulous glances. “I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

“I thought things were going fairly well between you two.”

“Nah, not really. It turns out she wasn't really my type.” Looking at their concerned looks, Ron continued, “Really, I'm fine. It's for the best. But I can't believe McGonagall didn't ask you to be the captain, Harry.”

Uncomfortable, Harry quickly shifted his glance towards Hermione.

“She asked you first, didn't she Harry?” asked Ron in a voice that trembled slightly. When Harry didn't reply immediately, Ron snapped, “I should have known. I'm always second choice, always in the shadow of the great Harry Potter!”

“It's not like that, Ron!” exclaimed Harry. “I didn't really want to be captain. I knew you did and that I wouldn't have the ti…”

“Oh, of course not. You have enough titles and awards, don't you? What's one more? Ehh, I don't want to be Quidditch captain, maybe Ron would like it—why don't you toss him a bone, Professor McGonagall. That'll make him happy. Well, I don't want it like that!”

“It wasn't like that at all, Ron! You want to know why I turned it down? I'll tell you. First, I won't have the time to dedicate to planning the strategies and practices and all that. Second, I'm no good at devising Quidditch tactics—I'm a seeker. I'm on the team, but I don't play with the team. Don't you get it? For six years, I've basically played Quidditch by myself. Sure I run interference on a few plays now and then, but the only strategy I had to know was to make sure my team wasn't down more than 140 points when I caught the snitch. You've lived and breathed Quidditch your entire life. If your face were any redder, you'd be a Chudley Cannon. I told McGonagall that you'd make the best captain for the team, you know the game better, you're better at strategy, and you'll have the time to dedicate to the team. I just catch the snitch. That's what I do best. Now if you don't believe that, then fine, tell McGonagall to find another captain.” Harry then got up and stormed out of the Weasley's kitchen.

Ron looked at Hermione. “Well, go on then. Take his side. You always do.”

“Ronald Weasley! When are you going to grow up? I thought you had put aside all of this petty jealousy after the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Yeah, rub it in Hermione.”

“Let me finish. Do you know why Harry is coming back this year?”

“Of course. So he can graduate.”

“Don't be so thick. Harry took down Voldemort. Do you seriously think there is anything left for him to learn in one of our DADA or Charms classes? Harry could take the NEWTs tomorrow and ace the exams without even studying. He's already read all of the course books we use at Hogwarts. And that's not counting the other books and scrolls he's studied from the restricted section in the school library, the archives at the Ministry of Magic, and other private collections.”

“How could he have done all that? Why would he come back then?”

“Harry just wants to have a normal school year. As normal as he is ever likely to get. He'll be doing independent coursework with some of the Professors at Hogwarts and Dumbledore is trying to get permission from the Ministry to allow Harry to do some of his Auror training while he's at school. He wants to try and enjoy one year at Hogwarts without having to worry about Voldemort. But most of all, he wants to spend time with me and you, playing Quidditch, going to Hogsmeade, dancing at a ball, playing pranks on the Slytherins—all of the really fun stuff he hasn't been able to fully enjoy over the last six years.”

“I—I didn't know that,” gasped Ron in a quiet voice. “Wait, did you say Harry wants to dance at a ball?”

Hermione smiled. “He will if he knows what's good for him. Now let me finish. Dumbledore even offered him a position teaching dueling and running the DA as an official club of the school.”

“Well, that figures.”

“Knock it off, Ron. Harry turned him down.”

“Why?”

“Harry just wanted to be treated like the other students. He didn't want any special perks or privileges. And he didn't want to give any grounds for Snape to get him kicked off the Quidditch team.”

“Huh?”

“Harry wanted to make sure that he maintained his student status. If he taught in an official capacity where he was paid, he was afraid he might not be able to play on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And Harry is very determined to beat Snape and the Slytherins again this year.”

“I am such a git.”

“Well, at least you can admit it. Now go and find Harry and talk to him.”

Hermione watched from the kitchen window as Ron chased Harry on his broom for a while. Ron finally caught him and they talked for a few minutes. She then smiled as they chased a snitch for a little while, glad for the temporary peace at least. But the unsettling thought that Ron had changed, or had not changed, continued to plague her as she watched. Ever since they had left Hogwarts, something between the three felt different.

“Have you noticed any difference between the three of us, Harry.”

“Yeah, you're much prettier than either me or Ron.”

“I'm being serious, Harry. Have you noticed anything different about Ron?”

“Nah. I think you're worrying too much. He's the same old Ron.”

“You don't think, that maybe, uhh, one of those Yonnua got to him” suggested Hermione hesitantly.

“WHAT?! No way! It's just Ron! Stop overreacting and relax, Hermione. Blimey!”

“Harry, it's just that I worry about…”

In a little calmer tone, Harry replied. “I know, I know. Look, if it will make you feel any better, I'll check him out later with infrared vision.”

“But what if the Death Eaters gave them a way to block that?”

“Samuel didn't say anything about that.”

“I know, but Samuel doesn't know everything. He didn't even get to finish interrogating Schraeder. There could be…”

“Stop it, Hermione. You can't keep worrying about every little thing. You'll drive yourself crazy. Try and relax. Everything will be fine.”

Hermione didn't feel very comforted. Even if Ron had not been replaced by a Yonnua and was just the same old Ron he'd always been, there was something slightly disturbing about that as well.

-----

Later that afternoon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped by to visit Fred and George at their joke shop. Harry and the twins became so engrossed in discussing various jokes and future projects that they completely lost track of time. Hermione and Ron Apparated to the Burrow to bring back some dinner. When only Hermione returned with her arms full of food, Harry asked where Ron was.

“Where do you think? He said the food might get cold bringing it back.”

“What? That wouldn't happen.”

“Yeah, I told him. I think he was afraid he wouldn't get his fair share of dinner.” Harry and the twins laughed as they started in on the hot meat sandwiches.

Finishing their meal, they decided a quick trip to the Three Broomsticks would be an excellent way to finish off their day. As they walked down the street, something made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. He quickly glanced around, trying to discover what had unsettled him.

“What is it, Harry?”

“I don't know. I feel like we're being watched. Have you noticed anything?”

“No,” replied Hermione.

“Harry, you're being paranoid,” started George.

“Relax. You need to loosen up,” added Fred.

“We can help with that,” concluded George. And taking Harry by the arms, they dragged him along the street towards the inn.

As Fred moved to open the door, they noticed a witch with short hair reach for the handle at the same time.

“Katie!” exclaimed George.

“How are you doing? Why haven't you been by the Burrow lately?” asked Fred.

Perplexed, Hermione stared at the twins and then began trying to hush them.

“I'm sure little Ronniekins has been missing you to death,” teased George.

“You wouldn't be out sneaking around with somebody else, now would you? Not while you and our dear little brother are…” laughed Fred.

Katie raised her tear filled face and snapped bitterly. “No! He didn't tell you, did he? That conceited little prat! It was Ron that was cheating on me—with Cho Chang.”

“What?!?!” exploded Harry while Hermione's mouth dropped in surprise.

“Oh yes. And when I confronted him about it, he just laughed.”

“I'm—we're so sorry, Katie. We didn't know,” apologized Fred.

“That little two-timing jerk! Don't worry, Katie. We'll straighten out Ron,” promised George.

“We'll make him sorry he ever hurt you,” growled Fred.

“No, please don't do anything on my account. It's not worth it. I'm not worth it.” Katie's shoulders hunched as she began to cry again.

Hermione stepped up and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Nonsense, Katie. It will be OK. Why don't we go somewhere and we can talk a bit.” She moved towards the Three Broomsticks.

Katie shook her head. “I—I really don't feel like being around a lot of people right now. But thanks for offering. I'll just…”

“That's fine, Katie. We could go somewhere else and talk, just you and me, if you'd like.”

With tears streaming down her face, Katie nodded and whispered thank you.

“Harry, why don't you take the twins inside and help them cool off a bit before you head home. I'm afraid they might kill Ron on sight right now. I'll meet you all at the Burrow later.”

Harry nodded his head, and led the fuming twins inside as Katie and Hermione walked off down the street. Nobody felt like drinking anything. Harry just sat in astonishment at Ron's cruel behavior while the twins planned increasingly inventive and elaborate methods of punishment.

After about ten minutes, he roared, “That's enough!” causing several of the other patrons to glance over at their table. In a slightly calmer tone of voice, Harry continued, “Getting back at Ron might make you feel better, but it's not going to make Katie feel any better or do Ron any good.”

“Who said we wanted to help him, Harry?” countered Fred.

“Nobody should treat a girl like that. They were teammates, Harry. They're both Gryffindors! He had no right to do that to her, or to anyone!” argued George.

“I agree. I'm not defending him. But dipping him in gravy and sealing him in a cave with one of Charlie's dragons is not going to help the situation. There must be something else to do. Now look. Maybe if we all get together to talk…”

“Right, Harry! I'll bring the Beater bats,” added George helpfully.

“And I'll bring some Bludgers,” chimed in Fred.

Exasperated, Harry suggested, “And I suppose I should bring the Veritaserum potion and maybe some of Filch's chains from the dungeon?”

“Excellent, Harry!”

“That's the spirit, old chap!”

“But the emphasis should be on more pain.”

“Owww! What are you doing?!?! Stop!! NOOO! HARRY!”

Harry stood so fast his chair flew backwards. “Hermione!!!” he screamed. “Where are you? What's wrong?” Frightened at the lack of response, Harry sprinted towards the front door while everyone in the tavern looked on in shock. Fred and George jumped to their feet and rushed to catch Harry as he burst through the front door.

“Harry!”

“What's the matter!?!?”

“Something's happened to Hermione and Katie. Split up now and look for them. If you see anything, send up some sparks in the air with your wand. Go now!” commanded Harry.

Without another word, the three sprinted apart in different directions, searching furiously.

Harry shielded his eyes against the setting sun as he searched the skyline for a burst of sparks he kept examining every possible hiding place he could imagine as he raced down street after street, finding nothing. As the minutes passed, Harry's mood grew steadily darker, as did the sky with gathering thunderclouds.

“Stop and think for a minute. There's got to be a more effective way to search.” he berated himself. Then he noticed the gathering clouds and the rapidly cooling temperature. He tried to slow his breathing as he thought desperately, “Control. I have to maintain control. Now calm down and think. Think!”

“Idiot!” he screamed at himself with a sudden flash of insight. He cloaked himself and leaped into the air as he turned into his dragonform. Soaring over the streets of Hogsmeade, he quickly spotted both of the Weasley twins searching in two different alleys.

“Hermione! Where are you?” he kept calling out, waiting in vain for an answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement at the edge of the village, near the forest. He teleported there instantly and tried to make sense of the scene he saw before him.

He saw Hermione's still form laying on the ground. Near her body were two people engaged in some sort of wrestling match. As Harry knelt beside Hermione's body while keeping his wand and eyes focused on the two figures struggling with each other, he observed a third figure emerging from the woods at a sprint. Finding a feeble pulse with a shaking finger, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and returned all of his attention to the other three figures as the rising winds calmed down and the temperature stopped dropping.

Harry recognized the two figures locked in a life and death struggle—Katie and Aardus. With one hand locked on Katie's wrist, Aardus was trying to prevent her from stabbing him with a dagger. Katie's other hand was latched on to the back of Aardus's neck, and Aardus's other hand was on her throat, trying to choke her. Circling the pair warily was Samuel, who looked anxiously at the pair.

“Let her go before anyone else gets hurt! You're not going to get away,” warned Samuel, raising his wand and moved closer.

As Harry stepped steadily closer, Aardus glanced at him. “Neither of us is what we seem, Potter,” he growled.

Harry replied coldly, “I know what you are, Aardus. You're a cold-blooded murderer. You're a monster. You killed those five thieves in Athens, didn't you?”

Harry thought he saw an expression of pain flicker across the face of Aardus, but there was no other visible response.

“That's what I thought,” replied Harry as he coolly aimed his wand. When Katie managed to force Aardus to his knees, Harry stared in surprise. He studied the two closely for another moment as Katie pushed the dagger closer to Aardus's chest while Aardus tightened his grip on her throat. With a slight nod to Samuel, they cast their spells simultaneously.

-->

Ch 12 Dueling Death

“Neco Dormitas!” was shouted by Samuel at the same time as Harry roared “Corpus Rumpore!” Trapped between the two wizards, Aardus struggled in vain to dodge both spells.

Samuel's powerful sleeping charm struck a glancing blow off of Aardus's shoulder as a blast of blue energy shot out of Harry's wand and struck Katie hard in the side, tossing her twenty feet to the side where she crumpled to the ground. Her whole body continued twitching involuntarily, as small blue sparks danced around her form. More powerful than a full Body Bind spell, the Body Break spell created painful electric currents that not only disrupted muscular control but prevented coherent thought. Eyes wide, Aardus sprang after her.

“Potter! How could you miss at that range?!” cried Samuel in disbelief as he charged after the quickly moving Aardus. “Damn!” he cried. “This is worse than I thought, Potter. That sleep charm was strong enough to knock out a troll—only an undead creature would have been able to shake it off like that, since they don't really sleep. Your old buddy over there is a vampire, Potter!”

“I know,” came the low reply as Harry distinctly heard the spells Gladius and Neco Flamen which changed Samuel's wand into a long, tapered sword that began emitting a bright, silvery white flame as he sprinted after Aardus.

“You what?! How long have you known?”

“For about thirty seconds.” As Harry ran after Aardus and Katie, his own voice echoed the spells cast by Samuel moments before and his own wand transformed into a slender, curved blade that glowed with its own blinding light. Then Harry drew out Drughaig Bior de Argid, the sword of Godric Gryffindor and stalked warily closer to Aardus. As Harry and Samuel closed in on Aardus, who was now picking up the still shaking body of Katie Bell, his mind raced through his options.

“If you have any brilliant ideas, Saldar, now would be the time to suggest them.”

“Kill the one thou callest Katie first. It is more dangerous than the vampire.”

“What?! I can't kill her—we need to talk to her!”

“Have you gone insane, Potter? Who are you talking to? We have to save her and keep him from killing her!” shouted Samuel, still a few steps away from the vampire and his intended victim.

“Master Potter, it is far too dangerous. Thou shall get no useful information from it. Its kind cares nothing for life, not even their own.”

“You know what she is?”

“Yes. I have never faced one, but I have heard of them. And I fear there is only one way to deal with them. Slay them before they slay you.”

Before Harry and Samuel arrived within striking distance of the quicker vampire, Aardus took advantage of the opportunity to finish the job he had begun. As his clawed hands crushed and tore the neck of the motionless girl he held in his hands, Samuel leaped forward, swinging his sword with insane fury while Aardus dodged desperately at the last moment. With a howl of intense pain, Aardus threw the lifeless body at Samuel, knocking him backwards to the ground as a blistering, smoking line of flame appeared along his shoulder and arm where Samuel had struck him.

“NOOOO!” screamed Harry as he realized he had been too slow. He stabbed with both swords low, catching Aardus in the thigh with one blade, and just below the knee with the other. Smoke and flame erupted from the punctures as Aardus hopped backward awkwardly. “We needed to talk to her first!” shouted Harry.

“Potter, it had to be done. Hermione had to be protected from her. Now she will be safe.”

“Potter! Quit chewing the fat with him and put a sword in him where it hurts!” screamed Samuel as he regained his feet.

Potter swung both blades from low to high, his left leading his right, leaving parallel smoking scratches on Aardus's chest as he arced backwards, almost out of reach. As Harry launched his next attack, Aardus stepped backwards, closer to Samuel, who nearly decapitated Aardus with a fierce swing of his own glowing blade as he quickly ducked.

“Don't kill him, Samuel. He needs to answer some questions first,” screamed back Harry.

“You don't talk to vampires, Harry. You stake `em with silver or wood—whatever's handiest. I thought you'd learned your lesson by now!”

Ignoring Samuel, Harry focused on Aardus. “Aardus! There is still another Yonnua out there. It may be looking for her as well.”

With a cold gleam in his eyes, Aardus announced, “Then I will kill that one, too. Farewell for now, Potter. Guard her better in the future.” As Samuel stabbed again with his sword, Aardus's body dissolved into smoke and dissipated quickly with the light breeze.

Samuel's furious gaze fixed on Harry. “You've got thirty seconds to explain to me what just happened. After that, I'm guessing you've got about five minutes before this field is crawling with Aurors wanting to know how you miscast a Body Break spell on this poor girl so that damned vampire could rip her throat out.” Raising his sword menacingly, he finished, “Start talking, Potter.”

Looking calmly at Samuel, Harry whispered “Finite Incantantum,” and resheathed the sword of Gryffindor. Then he spoke. “First of all, this girl, Katie, isn't the real Katie Bell I know. It was one of those Yonnua you warned us about. The last time I met Aardus, he nearly escaped a web spell I threw at him. I had thought the spell was defective, but I got trapped in one myself. They're strong enough to hold a small giant. Aardus nearly broke out of one by himself without a spell. There was no way the Katie I knew from Hogwarts could go toe to toe with him in a wrestling match. And why was she using a dagger instead of a wand? A witch would go for her wand, not a dagger. Since she was a Yonnua, she wouldn't have been able to cast any spells with a wand—if she wanted to defend herself, it would have to be with something else. I think she was after Hermione.”

“You're not going to believe that vampire, are you?”

“Look, Samuel, there's something different about him. I've seen vampires before—and they don't give off any heat at all. They're more like a black hole, they seem to suck in warmth and energy instead. But with Aardus, it wasn't like that…I'm not sure…”

“What? What do you mean you could see…”

“With my infravision. And when I looked at that thing,” Harry looked at the body of Katie Bell, “I saw her head glowing—a lot brighter than yours. Just like you told us. She was a Yonnua, Samuel. And there is something strange about Aardus—I don't know quite how to explain it.”

“Well, don't give it much thought. He's a vampire. That's enough for me. The next time I see him, I'm going to put him back in his grave.” Looking at the body of Katie while Harry went to check on Hermione, Samuel asked, “Uhh, Harry? If this girl is supposed to be a Yonnua, why hasn't she changed forms?”

“Huh? How am I supposed to know? You're the expert on the Yonnua, aren't you?”

“The abomination will not change form, Master Harry. When they perish, the accursed Yonnua remain forever in the form of their last victim. That is why it hath been so difficult to prove their existence.”

“Not really,” replied Samuel. Thinking for a minute while looking at Harry, he continued. “Look, I believe you Potter. But I'm not sure the Aurors who are going to arrive here any minute are going to buy this story. We can't really explain to them about the Yonnua without creating a huge panic, and I doubt they would believe us anyways. I've read what your Ministry thinks of you half the time, and I know what my reputation is here. I think we better take Hermione and leave.”

Harry looked at him coldly. “Katie's parents deserve to know how she died.”

“Potter, we don't even know where the real body is. I don't like it anymore than you do, but there's not much more we can do by staying here. And there are a lot of problems that can be avoided if we go now.”

Harry glared at him for a moment, and then both turned at the sound of approaching steps.

“Harry!”

“Are you alright?!”

“Did you find Hermione?”

“Ohhhh…”

“NOOO!” finished Fred as he ran towards Hermione. George sprinted to Katie's body.

With a final, angry glance at Samuel, Harry replied quietly, “Hermione's still alive, but we need to get her some help. Katie didn't make it. There was a vampire and Samuel and I couldn't save her in time. Don't touch anything though, I'm sure the Aurors will want to look around.” Harry crouched down, and held Hermione's hand. It was cold and clammy to the touch. Whipping off his cloak, he wrapped it around her and looked at Fred. “Go back to Hogsmeade and get someone from St. Mungo's. Please.”

Fred disappeared with a pop, and a few moments later there were three more pops. Dumbledore appeared with two Aurors from the ministry. Looking with concern at Harry and Hermione, he opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off.

“Hermione is hurt, I'm not sure how bad, but she's still alive. Katie is not.” Picking up Hermione in his arms, he glanced quickly at Samuel, and then looked at the two Aurors, glad he recognized one of them from the final battle against Voldemort. “Fred Weasley will be back with a healer from St. Mungo's any minute now. Hermione and Katie left the twins and I at the Three Broomsticks so they could talk for a few minutes. I'm not sure how they got out here, but I got a bad feeling when they were gone for a while. I freaked out a bit at the inn, and made the twins come and help look for them. When I finally found them here, Hermione was already down and out, just like you saw her on the ground. Samuel got here about the same time I did. Katie was trying to fight off what we first thought was a man, but turns out to have been a vampire.”

The Aurors gasped. Dumbledore's eyes focused more intently on Harry as he continued. “Samuel and I had him cornered, and we cast our spells at the same time while the vampire tried to dodge. Right over there.” Harry pointed with his wand. “Samuel's sleep charm bounced off his shoulder and my Body Break spell hit Katie, knocking her about twenty feet over there. When the sleep charm failed to drop him, we realized he was a vampire and we both cast the Gladius and Neco Flamen spells, to try and finish him off. But we didn't get there in time. The vampire beat us to Katie and tore her throat out. We got a few hits in, but he managed to escape before we could put him down for good.”

The Auror who Harry didn't recognize looked in shock at first Harry and then Samuel. “But neither of you are Death Stalkers, how did you manage to survive, how did you know the Flame of Death charms?”

“I've seen them used before, against Voldemort's Dementors,” replied Harry. An involuntary shudder shook the Auror as he tried to meet, and then avoid Harry's gaze. The other Auror listened quietly and then moved over to question Samuel and George.

Dumbledore reached over and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and whispered, “You have done enough for tonight, Harry. Take Hermione to the Burrow and get some rest. You will both need it. I will take care of this here. I will send the Healers there when they arrive.”

With a grateful glance at Dumbledore Harry nodded and whispered so that only Dumbledore could hear, “We need to talk later sir. The vampire was our old friend from Greece.”

“I see,” he replied with a stern face. “I will stop by later to check in on Hermione and yourself. Now go.”

Harry made sure he had a secure hold on Hermione and then called to the Aurors, “Unless you have any other questions for me, I will be taking Hermione to the Burrow now.”

One of the Aurors moved forward and extended his hand. “I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Potter, but I need to check your wand.” Harry passed him the wand. The Auror muttered the necessary charm, and a wisp of white smoke emerged from the wandtip and coalesced first into what looked like a small cloud which exploded violently, then a flame with the image of a skull in it, then into a long sword, and finally into the form of a body which twitched slightly.

“You can go now, Mr. Potter,” replied the Auror. “If we have any more questions, we'll know where to find you.”

“Thanks,” answered Harry, and disappeared with Hermione. A few moments later, Fred and three Healers appeared. Dumbledore informed them that Harry and Hermione were at the Burrow and showed them the little glass globe that displayed the image of the Burrow so that they could apparate there. Then the twins and two of the Healers disappeared. The third Healer waited until the Aurors were done inspecting the body for evidence, and then took the body with her when she returned to St. Mungo's.

Dumbledore moved over to examine more closely the site of the battle. He found a few ashes on the ground which he pointed out to the Aurors. “Probably burnt vampire flesh. You might want to check that.” One of the Aurors pointed his wand and muttered an identification charm, and nodded his head when the ashes glowed a bright green for a brief moment. He then scooped up the ashes into a small leather pouch and labeled it. The other auror examined Samuel's wand and then cast several detection spells around the area of the battle, to see if there had been any other magical disturbances.

His face pale, he looked over at Dumbledore. “There are traces of very powerful Dark magic here tonight, more than I would have expected from a vampire.”

Samuel glanced at Dumbledore, and then replied, “It may have been a very powerful vampire.”

The two Aurors were wrapping up their investigation. Looking at Samuel, one Auror told him, “All of the evidence that we have examined seems to corroborate the story you and Mr. Potter gave us. But don't plan on leaving anytime soon, in case we need to talk with you further, Mr. Hunt.”

“He is currently a guest at Hogwarts,” explained Dumbledore, “and if you need to speak with him further, please let me know.”

“Very well. Good night then.” And the two Aurors disappeared with a pop, to file their report with the Ministry.

Dumbledore looked at Samuel and he asked, “Care for a stroll through the forest before we check in on Miss Granger?”

Samuel chuckled and replied. “Looks like a lovely night for a stroll.”

A few minutes later they were deep within the Forbidden Forest, heading to Hogwarts.

“How did you become involved in tonight's activities Samuel?”

“I was watching Potter. I figured the Yonnua were probably hired to go after him, Potter being the reason for Voldemort's downfall and all that. I thought nothing of it at first, that girl bumping into them at the inn so I watched the inn for a few minutes. I thought it was strange that they headed out of the village to have their private little chat, but I didn't give it much thought at the time. When I heard Potter scream Hermione's name and come barreling out of the inn with the Weasley twins on his heels, I knew there was a problem. Of course it all makes sense now. The girl was a Yonnua. Instead of going directly for Harry, it was going to kill the person closest to him. And then go after him. Harry would never have known what hit him. As it is, I don't know how he figured out…”

“Harry and Hermione are no ordinary couple. I'm not sure that any Yonnua would have been able to trick Harry into thinking it was Hermione. Or vice-versa.”

“Come off it, old man. You're kidding, right? I mean, yeah, the kid's a great wizard and all that, but detecting a Yonnua? I think he just got lucky.”

With a slight smile, Dumbledore asked Samuel, “Do you? When Harry cast the Body Break charm, do you think he hit what he was aiming at?”

Samuel thought quietly for a moment, replaying the battle over in his mind. “Yeah. He did. At the time, I was furious—I couldn't figure out how he could have missed as close as we were. But he didn't miss. He hit the target he was aiming at.”

“Hmmm. Tell me, Samuel. What do you think of Harry's potential as an Auror?”

“You're kidding me, right? The boy defeated Voldemort, weren't you there?” laughed Samuel.

“As a matter of fact, I was there. And I have never witnessed a more powerful display of raw power and courage in my entire life. There is no doubt that Harry is a very powerful mage. But I would like to know your opinion of his potential as an Auror.”

“Why are you asking me? Ask one of the Aurors he trained with, or one of those who fought with him against Voldemort. You know I was never good Auror material, that's why they booted me from the American Ministry's Dark Ops Group. You know how rough that crew is. You've got to be a real misfit to get tossed out of the DOGs.” Samuel laughed bitterly.

“Yes, I know Samuel. That is why I am asking you.”

“What? Why?” Samuel stopped to look at Dumbledore. Then a thought struck him. “You don't think Harry will cut it as an Auror, do you? Oh, he's got the talent and the power, and certainly the drive, but you're afraid he might not have the temperament for it, is that it?”

Dumbledore glanced over at Samuel, but did not answer as he kept walking.

“Fine. Keep your secrets to yourself, greybeard. Let me tell you what I saw tonight. I saw a kid, he's what—barely seventeen?—handle himself more calmly under pressure than most of the men I fought with while in the service. His mental concentration is nothing short of incredible. He can focus on several problems simultaneously without getting distracted, and deals with them in the proper order of importance. He makes the right decision and he makes it quickly. He doesn't hesitate—he acts immediately and effectively when needed. He fluidly adapts new tactics to a rapidly changing situation. He is fearless without being foolhardy. While he is very effective by himself, it's possible that he would be even more effective with a partner, but it would have to be someone very intelligent and intuitive in order to keep up with him.

On the down side, he may have a tendency to be too soft on an opponent—I'm not sure he has that killer's instinct you sometimes need in a really tight situation. He seems to want to understand more than he needs to in order to do his job. And that temper—he needs to gain a little better control of his emotions.” When Samuel noticed the corners of Dumbledore's lips raising in a smile, he admitted, “Fine. So I'm still working on controlling my temper. But you wanted to hear about Potter. Tell me, how does he deal with rules and authority figures?”

Dumbledore chuckled, “Not very well, I must admit. Minerva and I long ago lost count of the number of school rules he and his friends bent or broke during their time at Hogwarts. And there is no way to count the number of laws and regulations he broke during his training last year.”

“I suspected as much. Finally, that girlfriend of his, the Granger girl. She could be a weak link for him, a soft spot an enemy could exploit. They nearly did tonight.”

Dumbledore looked at Samuel thoughtfully. “Actually, Hermione is the key to Harry's incredible strength and power. He would be a much weaker wizard without her, and most likely, a very dead one.”

For several moments, the two walked in silence.

“Speaking of Granger, how did she survive?” asked Samuel. “I'm not sure anyone has ever survived a Yonnua attack before.”

“That is a question we will have to ask her,” replied Dumbledore.

-----

When Harry appeared in the living room at the Burrow with Hermione in his arms, Molly gasped and ran forward to meet them.

“What happened Harry?” asked Molly.

“The same thing that always happens,” muttered Harry bitterly. “The bad guys come after me and someone I care about gets caught in the middle.”

“Is she hurt badly?”

“I don't know. Fred is supposed to be bringing some Healers from St. Mungo's. She's been out cold for a while now. Could we put her in one of the bedrooms?”

“Of course, dear. Follow me. And don't blame yourself, Harry.”

Harry and Molly had just gotten Hermione situated in Ginny's room when Fred and the Healers arrived. Pushing Harry aside, they asked him to leave. When he refused, Molly spoke with him softly and convinced him to follow her outside the room. For the next hour, Harry paced the hallway outside, refusing to sit down or talk to anyone who came upstairs to try and visit with him.

Molly left him alone and went downstairs and noticed the twins talking rather heatedly with Ron off to one side of the room. As the discussion grew louder, Molly went to pull Ron away from the twins—all three of them looked as if they were about to start swapping punches any moment. She led Ron, who was still snarling comments over his shoulder to his older brothers, into the kitchen to talk to him by herself. Half an hour later, she went back upstairs and sat in a chair outside of Ginny's room and watched sadly as Harry paced back and forth.

When the Healers finally emerged, Harry rushed to confront them. “How is she? Is she going to be OK?”

“We cannot tell for sure, Mr. Potter. We're sorry. We've done everything we possibly can here. She is stable now, and resting comfortably, but she still shows no signs of consciousness. There are a few more tests we can run at the hospital, but you must prepare yourself for the worst, Mr. Potter. She may never regain consciousness.”

“NOOO!” screamed Harry. He angrily stepped forward towards the Healers and shook off Molly's hand as she tried to place it on his shoulder.

“Once we have spoken with her parents, we will take her to St. Mungo's where we might be able to help her more.”

“No! NOO!” Molly moved to his side and made as if to speak, but he ignored her as he glared angrily at the Healers. “You are not shipping her off to that floor at St. Mungo's with Lockhart and the Longbottoms! She is not a lost cause! I am not giving up on her!” Harry pushed forward past the Healers, but they grabbed his arms as he brushed by them.

“We understand your anger and deeply regret that we cannot do more. But there is nothing more that can be done right now. There is nothing you can do for her right now, why don't you go back downstairs and wait with the others.”

Harry's eyes flashed as he slowly uttered every word. “You…understand… NOTHING!!! Now let go of me and stay out of my way!” Slightly frightened, the two Healers released Harry and backed away slowly.

“Harry! They're only trying to help. Now calm down,” urged Molly as the temperature slowly rose.

“I will not! Now leave us alone!” roared Harry and then he disappeared. A moment later, the door on Ginny's room slammed shut so hard it shook for a minute. Then it shuddered again as if someone had slammed it with a battering ram. One of the healers reached forward to turn the doorknob and was knocked backward down the hall about ten feet. The other Healer quickly ran over to help him up. Astonished, they made their way downstairs, muttering loudly about temperamental young wizards.

Standing in front of the door, but not daring to touch it, Molly, struggling to control her own temper, shouted out to Harry. “Harry, come out, dear. We're only trying to help. Come downstairs and we'll talk…”

“Go away!” came the shouted response. Then a moment later, “Please, Molly. Just leave us alone.”

Molly turned and quietly went downstairs. Pausing on the landing, she met the anxious glances of Dumbledore, Lupin, and Arthur. The Healers were speaking with the Grangers, who had just arrived with McGonagall. As Molly descended the stairs, Lupin asked, “I guess Harry's locked himself in there with her?”

“You heard?”

“Neither Harry nor you have the quietest of voices, dear,” explained Arthur.

“Yes, he's locked himself in there with her. He put a very nasty banishing charm on the door by the way. I think that Healer is lucky the spell didn't knock him through one of our walls. Unless the Grangers want to see their daughter right away, I suggest we give Harry some time to cool down first.”

“It seems he already has,” noted Dumbledore looking out a window at the calm evening.

At that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Granger approached Dumbledore. “We would like to see our daughter.” Mrs. Granger's eyes were red and puffy, and she leaned heavily on her husband, who supported her with an arm around her waist. Dumbledore nodded and they followed him slowly up the stairs. Pausing in front of the door, Dumbledore held up his hand in front of the Grangers. They looked at him in surprise as Dumbledore explained.

“Molly informed me that Harry placed a banishing charm on the door. What that means is that if you touch the door, you will be repelled, or pushed backwards. I will need to remove it first.”

Standing in front of the door, Dumbledore raised his hands and moved them slowly in an intricate pattern as he whispered quietly. “Impressive, Harry. Ahh, very clever. Hmmm. There. That should do it.” He reached forward, glanced over at the Grangers, then slowly turned the knob. Nothing happened and then the door swung slowly inward.

Dumbledore stepped in first and glanced quickly around the room, checking rapidly for any other charms that Harry had left. There were none. Then he moved closer to the two motionless figures by the bed. When she entered, Hermione's mother gasped loudly and moved forward until Dumbledore grabbed her wrist.

“I understand your worry and concern, but please do not touch either of them right now.”

Over his wife's shoulder, Fred Granger looked at the thin form of his daughter covered by the bedsheets. On one side of her bed was the still form of Harry Potter. He held one of Hermione's hands in his own, their fingers interlaced. His other hand lay on her forehead, and he was leaning forward, resting on his forearm with his eyes closed.

“What…is he sleeping?”

“I do not believe so, Mr. Granger. Let me try to explain. Your daughter and Mr. Potter share a very special connection…”

“Are you talking about telepathy? Hermione told us something about that.”

“Excellent. Yes, they share a very strong mental link. Several months ago, the last time the both of you were at Hogwarts, when Harry was so badly hurt, Hermione used that mental connection they share to help Harry. I believe that is what Harry is trying to do right now. He is looking for your daughter.”

“Can he help her?” asked Mrs. Granger.

“I cannot say for certain. But if there is anything at all that can be done to help your daughter, Harry will do it.”

She began sobbing and turned to her husband who wrapped her up in a huge hug trying to console her.

“Hermione could not be in better hands right now. Harry will not rest until she is better.”

“But the Healers said…I thought you weren't sure he could help?”

“I am not sure that he can. I can only hope, for both of their sakes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I do not believe Harry will return without her.”

Stunned, the Grangers turned and looked at Dumbledore in awe.

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Nothing but wait I am afraid. And try to make yourselves comfortable.” With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore conjured a comfortable chair for himself and a sofa for the Grangers.

-->

Ch 13 Chasing a Ghost

Harry opened his eyes and his jaw dropped in disbelief. The soaring, majestic walls of the library that represented Hermione's mind looked as if they had been firebombed. Smoking craters surrounded him on the grounds in front of the massive oak doors. One of the doors lay in splinters in the entryway while the other sagged on one surviving hinge. Even the massive stone walls bore massive scorch marks and impact indentations from catapult boulders. One wall slumped and seemed ready to collapse—Harry could see evidence of the tunnels that had been dug to undermine the wall.

“Oh, Hermione! What did they do to you?! ” he thought with anguish.

In disbelief, Harry walked forward through the damaged entryway. Passing through the outer hallway Harry entered another large doorway and walked past another pair of heavy wooden doors lying ten feet inside the main chamber where they had been blown inward. Shock and despair filled Harry's face as he gazed at the smoldering ruins of shelves and books that lay strewn everywhere. Whatever had broken into Hermione's mind had attempted to destroy everything. Everything that made up Hermione. Struggling to control his mounting fear and anger, Harry looked for one of the exits and broke into a run, shouting out Hermione's name.

---

As Harry's body began to shake, Molly moved forward but then stopped as Dumbledore grabbed her arm.

“There is nothing more we can do right now for either of them. All we can do is wait and pray for the best.” Dumbledore's gaze swept the room, glancing at first Molly, then Arthur, and then the Grangers. Dumbledore paused for a moment and then concentrated intently with his eyes closed.

“ Saldar, the Healers did not seem too optimistic about Hermione's chances. They have never seen anything like this. Can you provide me any more information about the condition of either Hermione or Harry? ”

“ I am truly sorry, Master Dumbledore. There is not much more information I canst add than I hath already given thee. I failed to recognize the grave danger that Mistress Granger was in until the Yonnua actually attacked her. It was a devastating mental attack—I fear that any assistance I may have been able to render came too late. From what I hath seen, the attack destroyed everything—I do not know whether her mind remaineth whole or no. I sense that Master Potter continues to seek her, but I have not encountered him as yet. ”

“ If anything new develops, please inform me immediately, Saldar. ”

“ Of course. Again, you have my deepest apologies. ”

“ It is not your fault, Saldar. Nobody is to blame. ”

When Dumbledore opened his eyes again, he found that everyone in the room was looking at him expectantly. “I apologize, I was unable to learn anything new about Hermione's condition. All I know is that Harry is still looking for Hermione to try and help her.” Dumbledore's shoulders drooped as he leaned back in his chair.

---

Three floors up, Harry gasped for breath and then halted as he saw a shadowy figure at the end of the hallway slowly approaching him.

“ Hermione! Is that you? ”

“ No, Master Potter. It is Saldar. I am here seeking Mistress Granger as well. Hast thou had any luck? ”

Harry squinted at the thin figure walking towards him. Long black hair hung over his face, partially hiding sharp, piercing eyes. The angular features and confident, powerful movements seemed to remind him of something or somebody, but Harry couldn't place it. He shook his head to focus on the task at hand.

“ No, I haven't seen anything but destruction. Not a sign of Hermione.”

“ Master Potter, I know that ye both hath strong feelings for thee other, but I fear… ”

“ Shut up! Don't talk like that! If you want to give up, fine! Then go! But I'm not leaving until I find her. ”

“ No, Master Potter. I wish to assist ye if I canst. We canst cover more ground if we part ways. ”

“ Fine, I'll look this way. ” Harry turned to walk off angrily, then paused. “ I will find her, Saldar. I will. ”

To himself, Saldar quietly replied, “ I pray that ye do, Master Potter. For both thine sakes. ” He then redoubled his own efforts in the other direction.

---

Hours had passed, but nobody had left Ginny's room. Ginny had brought up sandwiches, but they remained untouched on the plate. Molly and Mrs. Granger were the only ones awake, the rest of the men appeared to be sleeping. They sat together, talking quietly, though their eyes never left the bed where the two teenagers still lay quietly.

Behind Dumbledore's closed eyes, he kept in constant contact with Saldar. Though it did not show on his face, he was growing increasingly worried about Hermione's condition. He could only hope that Harry was having more luck than Saldar.

---

Harry felt like he had been through every corridor and room on all five floors, but he knew he was missing something. She had to be here somewhere! She just had to be. Harry couldn't bear to consider the alternatives. Harry sat and thought for a moment, then he returned downstairs to the massive library. He knew he was missing something and it was nearly driving him crazy. Stomping amidst the wreckage of the library floor, Harry moved towards the only area that was somewhat clear of debris. Here there were several large tables and a couple of comfortable chairs near a large fireplace. On one side of the fireplace stood a large mirror with several cracks marring its otherwise smooth surface. Harry turned one of the chairs right side up and sat down to think.

He tried to picture this area just as Hermione would have been using it. He could see stacks and stacks of books threatening to spill off of the heavy tables behind him. He envisaged a low fire burning in the fireplace, providing enough light for Hermione to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs and enjoy whatever book she had decided to read. The only thing that did not really fit was the mirror. Hermione had never really worried too much about her appearance—she was simply not vain that way like many of the girls her age. So why was it here? Staring at it, Harry thought. Well, one could have a fairly good look at the room behind you. But then why a tall mirror on the wall? Why not one on top of the mantel, where it could also reflect the light back into the room? Unless it was more than just a mirror.

Harry sprang out of his chair and moved closer to inspect the mirror. His hands searched the frame, looking for a hidden mechanism that might open it up, like a door. Then he simply tried to pull it off the wall. No good.

“ Of course! ” he berated himself. “ She's a witch, so it must be a magical door! Maybe a password or something.”

Standing in front of the mirror, he began reciting every sweet he could think of. Nothing. “ Hmmm. Probably not a Quidditch term, either. Crookshanks? Nothing. SPEW? Nothing. Hmm, this could take a while. ”

An hour later, Harry had exhausted every term he could think of related to her classes, their various adventures, and her favorite spell books and Muggle novels. Still nothing happened. More out of frustration than any expectation that they might work, he had even put together several colorful phrases that he had picked up from Ron and the twins. These only seemed to make the cracks in the mirror worse.

“Trelawney's a fraud! Snape's a git! Voldemort's a wanker!” he shouted at the mirror. Still nothing.

Standing in front of the mirror, he leaned his head against it as he felt the tears begin to run down his cheeks. As he slowly began to beat against the mirror with the flat of his palms, his hands slowly curled into fists and began to pound the mirror with increasing force. As the mirror began to spiderweb with new cracks, drops of blood began to drop from his lacerated knuckles. Harry continued to pound the mirror as sobs wracked his body. He was oblivious when Saldar returned to the library to watch with pity as Harry began to scream with anguish, calling out to Hermione.

---

This time, Dumbledore's restraining hand could not halt Molly as she grabbed one of Ginny's shirts and tore it into strips which she then began wrapping around Harry's raw and bleeding hands. There was no mistaking the anguish in his tense posture or the shouts that escaped his lips. There was no reaction from Hermione, and Molly did her best to keep Harry's blood off of her face. If possible, the reaction of Mrs. Granger was even more heartrending. She slumped limply against her husband—her body seemed lifeless. She would have slid to the floor if he hadn't held her tightly. It was as if watching Harry's frustration reinforced to her, and to all of them, the hopelessness of Hermione's situation.

---

His anger spent, Harry kneeled in front of the bloody mirror, his palms and forehead resting against its shattered surface.

“ Hermione! If you can hear me, please, answer me. I know you're here somewhere. And I will find you. But I need your help. I need you. I love you, Hermione. I can't bear the thought of living without you. Please! Help me find you. ”

Nothing. Nothing at all. The silence seemed deafening. The emptiness around him matched the hollowness he felt deep inside. There was nothing left of his precious Hermione. He would never see her beautiful face again, see that wonderful look of concentration as she studied a new spell, the way she bit her lip as she slowly committed it to memory, or that bright flash of joy in her eyes when she cast it successfully. No more rows with Ron, or encouragement to read…

“Hogwarts, A History,” he said in a voice thick with emotion.

The shards of glass disappeared, and all that remained was what appeared to be a shimmering, transparent veil.

With a grin and a glimmer of hope, Harry stood and pushed against it, trying to pass through it. Instead, he was flung backward flat on his back, skidding on the floor before bumping up against a tabletop.

In a flash of anger, he regained his feet and drew his wand. “Damn! A banishing charm!? Hermione! I'm here to help you!” As he prepared to charge forward again, Saldar's hand on his shoulder held him fast.

“ A moment, Master Potter. Canst thou feel it? ”

“ Feel what? I can't feel anything? ”

“ Then wait until thou canst. ”

“ What are you getting at Saldar? ”

“ I pray thee, listen close Master Potter. The entire time we have been seeking for Mistress Granger, not once have I felt her presence. Not a trace. As if only the dried out husk remained of a once golden stalk of wheat. Until now. Until ye discovered the door behindst the mirror. I wast sore afraid that after the Yonnua's mental attack, there would be nothing left of Mistress Granger. Yet something of her hath survived. That's why I'm begging ye to rein in thy temper. Thou hast found her sanctuary. Now we have but to discover the manner by which we may bring her back out safely. ”

“ What are you talking about? I'll just go in and get her. ”

“NOOOO! Listen, Master Potter. Take a good glance around. The Yonnua took that approach. It would appear that Mistress Granger's mental defenses held long enough for her, or some part of her, to escape destruction. But she most likely will not recognize me, and she may not recognize thee. Instead of friends coming to her aid, she may view us only as another foe trying to attack her. We dare not be seen as aggressive lest we drive her away or destroy whatever is left of her. We must exercise patience and great care, Master Potter. Even the most powerful, disciplined mind can still be extremely fragile.”

Harry looked at Saldar and for the first time, seemed to notice the blood on his hands. Wiping them on his pants, he took deep, long breaths as he thought out his next move.

---

Molly was the first to notice that the bleeding had slowed and that Harry's body had relaxed. She was also the first to notice that the room was becoming colder and drier. Her eyes caught Dumbledore's look and she quickly left the room.

Dumbledore opened the windows as Molly returned with armfuls of blankets.

“If you wish to remain in here with Harry and Hermione, I suggest you wrap yourself in several of these. I believe it will be getting very chilly in a few moments.”

The Grangers looked at Dumbledore with puzzlement obvious in their faces. Dumbledore was silent for a minute, and when he opened his eyes again, there was a hint of a sparkle in them. Whatever thoughts he had, he kept to himself, unsure of the meaning for the change, and unwilling to prematurely and perhaps mistakenly raise the hopes of the family members around him. Despite the warm breeze blowing in from the window, he noticed how he could see his breath in the chilly air. He took three blankets for himself and watched as the Weasleys and Grangers quickly followed his example.

---

Standing in front of what used to be the mirror, Harry slowly raised his hands towards the shimmering curtain. Anticipating the force that would repel him as soon as he touched it, when it came he redirected it sideways, along the wall rather than pushing it away from him. As he did so, he felt the force against him increase. Rather than resist it, he redirected it sideways, and added some of his own power to it. In his mind's eye, he imagined how the library used to be, and focused on that image with all his might. Oblivious to the changes occurring around him, Harry remained perfectly still as the perspiration ran in small rivulets down his face to soak his clothing. After what felt like hours but could have been merely minutes, Harry's body began to shake with the effort of directing the powerful magical forces rebuilding the library around him. As he collapsed to his knees, he was unaware when Saldar jumped forward trying to reach him before he fell. Then Harry fell forward through the veil.

“ Master! ”

“ I'm fine, just a little tired. I'm through the veil. I'll go look for Hermione. You wait for us here. ”

“ Art thou sure? ”

“ Yeah. You said she might not recognize you. I think I have a better chance. Let's not make it too tough on her. ”

“ Very well. Good luck. ”

“ Thanks. ”

As Harry looked up from where he had sprawled forward on his hands and knees, he groaned to see a flight of stairs climbing upward out of sight.

“ That figures. ” He sighed and wearily began climbing the stairs, feelings of fear and hope raging in his heart.

---

Everyone sat huddled in their blankets with huge cups of hot cocoa warming their numb hands. Dumbledore was the first to notice when the temperature once again climbed above freezing. “I believe this is a change for the better, but it is much too soon to tell for sure.”

As the temperature continued to rise, he signaled to Molly, and she began pulling off some of the heavier blankets she had thrown over the pair.

---

Bumping his head against the roof, Harry muttered Lumos to help him find the latch to open the trap door. Moving slowly, anticipating another forceful resistance, he was surprised when it swung open easily. Rising softly, he let out a low gasp. The room was beautiful. And it was untouched! He found himself in what appeared to be a tall tower with a magnificent view of the stars and constellations, much brighter and more beautiful than any he had ever seen before in his life, even at Hogwarts. It was a large circular room with a fireplace on one side, and windows on every other wall. There were several comfortable chairs, several small desks with a few books on them, and a small table with what appeared to be cookies and crackers on it, along with a few bottles of juice.

Looking around quickly, he focused on the low fire burning at the edge of the room. As he moved closer, he noticed some chestnut colored hair spilling over the side of one of the chairs. He approached slowly, remembering anxiously what Hermione had discovered in circumstances somewhat similar. Bracing himself for the worst, he turned and gasped at what he saw.

It was Hermione, just as beautiful as she had ever appeared to him. With her legs tucked up under her and a book open in her lap, she looked like she had simply fallen asleep in the Gryffindor common room studying for an exam. As he approached her, he noticed the pale shade of her skin, but she appeared to be breathing deeply, as if sound asleep. He reached to take the book from her lap, and closed it, smiling as he read the title, Hogwarts, A History.

He softly traced the curve of her cheek with his fingers but got no reaction. Picking Hermione up in his arms, he sat down, returning the favor she had done for him only several months earlier. Rocking her slowly, his tears fell on her face as he gently brushed her hair.

“ Oh, Mione! Did I get here too late? Please wake up and come back to me, Hermione. Please be OK. ”

Looking down at her sweet, angelic face, Harry leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. For a moment, he swore he saw something in her face change. But then it was gone. So he leaned down and kissed her again. This time her eyes fluttered. So he leaned in and gave her another kiss. This time her eyes snapped open and then she pushed Harry's face away with both hands.

“ Let me catch my breath for a moment, Harry! ”

At the shocked and slightly hurt look on his face, she added. “ There, I've caught my breath. Please continue. ”

With an enormous grin on his face, Harry happily obeyed.

---

With the room temperature back to normal and the heavy blankets removed, Molly and Mrs. Granger noticed that Hermione's face no longer appeared as pale. In fact, it seemed to be slightly pink. When Harry moved, for the first time in hours, and kissed Hermione briefly on the lips, the shade of pink blossomed quickly into bright crimson. Apparently still asleep, Harry moved his head back to rest on her shoulder, and for the first time since she had been brought to the house, Hermione moved as well. She rolled to her side to lean her forehead against Harry's head, her other hand reached over to lay on top of the hand that held hers, and a huge smile spread contentedly on her face.

Clearing his throat quite loudly, Dumbledore voiced what everyone thought. “Well, I believe this is definitely a positive sign.” With his eyes twinkling once again, he stood. “I believe I will now have one of those sandwiches Miss Weasley was so good to prepare for us.” He then sat back in his chair, munching contentedly.

---

Simply happy to hold her in his arms, Harry stared dreamily at the fire.

“ Thanks for rescuing me, Harry. Again. ”

“ No problem, love. Just returning the favor. Are you OK? How do you feel? ”

“ Kind of groggy, to tell you the truth. And some things are kind of fuzzy—it's kind of hard to explain. ”

“ Well, I can tell you that the rest of the library was a real mess. We don't have to talk about it now, if you don't feel up to it. ”

“ No, that's alright, Harry. There's not much to say, really. I was walking along with Katie, and we were just discussing what an absolute prat Ron can be, when all of a sudden she grabbed me by the back of the neck and there was this blinding pain in my head. It felt like she was trying to suck out all of my memories. I tried to stop her, but it was like she was already everywhere in my head before I even knew what happened. I fought as best as I could, but knew I couldn't last very long. That's when I called out to you, and then I guess I just shut down. I focused on one specific memory, one piece of me that I could protect. And I hung on to it with everything I had. ”

“ Let me guess. When you got your invitation letter to Hogwarts? ”

“ Nope. ”

“ When you got your OWL results and the prefect badge? ”

“ No. ”

“ Oh, I know. It was when you went to the Yule ball with Krum. But before Ron shot off his mouth and ruined that memory for you. ”

“ Harry…Ohh, you're never going to guess. It was when you skipped out of the infirmary to have a picnic lunch down by the lake with me. After we flew around the castle for awhile, you brought back enough food to feed all of Gryffindor House and we just sat there, not really doing anything, not worrying about anything, but we were just together. And it was perfect. ”

“ Really?! ”

“ Yes, now don't make fun, Harry. ”

“ I wasn't, honest. I guess if I would have had to focus on one memory it would have been when you sat there with me in front of the fire, and I looked and felt horrible after all the spells I had cast in defeating Voldemort and you said that you would never leave me, no matter what. That you didn't care what I looked like or even if I never got better—but that you would stay with me no matter what. That would be the memory I would hold onto. ”

“ Oh, Harry, I love you! ” as she reached up and gave him another loving kiss.

A minute later, Harry huskily replied, “ As much as I would love to stay here and continue, I think there are some other people who would love to see you as well. Come on, let's go. ” When Hermione climbed out of his lap, she reached down to pull Harry up and noticed that his hands were bloody.

“ Harry! What happened?! ”

“I had sort of a rough time finding you. I took some frustrations out on your mirror.”

“Really? I thought the password was rather obvious. I made it very easy. Probably too easy. Maybe I'll change it and make it more difficult. Perhaps an algorithm of… ”

“ What, History, A Hogwarts? Yeah, Hermione, bloody easy password to figure out, ” thought Harry sarcastically.

“ So tell me how you found me Harry. ”

By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry had finished telling his side of the story. As they stepped through the window portal, Saldar gave them a huge hug of greeting.

“ Saldar? ” muttered Hermione hesitantly.

“ Yes, Mistress Granger. I am overjoyed to see thee well. We have all been deeply troubled with worry over thee. ”

“ I think I remember you, but I feel like there are details missing. ”

Looking at the library, and then at Harry, she asked “ I thought you said this place was completely destroyed. How did it get back to this condition? ”

“ Well, like I said. Instead of fighting your defenses, I took that power and added my own strength, and focused on how the library used to be, as best as I could remember it. ”

“ Hmmm, ” muttered Hermione as she walked down one of the aisles. “ Well, these books don't belong here. They go with the rest of the books on the history and philosophy of Arithmancy. And these three, they obviously go in the section on practical applications of object transfiguration. Harry, didn't I explain my filing system to you? It's obvious why some of my memories feel jumbled, you neglected to put the books back in their correct locations. ”

With a disbelieving look at Saldar, which was returned, Harry stammered, “Uhh, yes, terribly sorry about that, Hermione, but I did have a few other things on my mind at the time. ”

“Oh, Harry, I didn't mean to seem ungrateful. ” And she rushed back to him and gave him such a wonderful kiss that he was left breathless as well as speechless. “ I'll sort the rest of this out later. Let's go. ” Grabbing his hand, Hermione pulled Harry back outside of the library, with Saldar grinning happily behind them.

---

When she opened her eyes, all she could see was wild, unruly black hair that tickled her nose. She lifted her hand to push it away, and realized that her other hand was still held tightly in Harry's grip. With a smile, she kissed the top of his head and pushed him slightly away.

“Wake up sleepy head. If anyone caught you in here, there'd be hell to pay. If McGonagall, or Molly, or heaven forbid, one of my parents were to walk in…”

“Ahem,” interrupted Dumbledore with a trace of a smile. Hermione's eyes opened in shock. “I assure you, Miss Granger, there is no need to worry tonight. We are all aware of how Harry has been helping you recover from your terrible ordeal tonight.”

Hermione looked around in sudden fear. When she realized that only herself, Harry, and Dumbledore were present, she breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Uhh, Professor Dumbledore, this has never happened before,” she explained, her face bright red.

“I believe you, of course, Miss Granger. And I am sure it will not happen during the coming school year.”

“School year,” asked Hermione, puzzled.

“At Hogwarts,” supplied Dumbledore. “Are you feeling well?”

“Hmm. Hogwarts. Like the title of that book. The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it.”

“I see, Miss Granger. Perhaps I could…”

“I think I just need some time to rest and relax, really, Professor. I've spoken with Harry about it. Apparently, he helped recreate my memories, but he seems to have put them in the wrong order. Some things I remember, others are still foggy.”

“Ah, yes. I had not thought of that. Of course, you and Harry, like most men and women, think very differently, though you two complement each other extremely well.”

“Uhh, thank you. I think. Umm, when I first woke up, you mentioned we. And about what I said at first, uhh… ”

“You are still just as clever and perceptive as always, Hermione. The we that I referred to included myself, the Weasleys, and your own parents. They are downstairs having a hot meal. Most of them have been here with you almost continuously for two days now. And do not worry, nothing happened while you were unconscious for which you need to apologize. But now that you are awake, it would probably be best to move young Mr. Potter to another room.”

“He seems awfully tired, Professor.”

“Well, he worked very hard to bring you back to us, Miss Granger. I cannot explain how happy I am to have you back. To have you both back. I will move Harry, and then I will inform your parents.”

“Thank you.”

Dumbledore easily lifted Harry, and carried him from the room. Hermione laid back in her bed, and listened to the quiet footsteps as Dumbledore walked down the hallway, then back and down the stairs. She heard the distinct voices of her mother and father and then the pounding steps as they raced up the stairs. The door flew open and then she was enveloped in their smothering hugs.

“I'm fine. I'm going to be fine,” she insisted over the tears and sighs of her parents as she hugged them back fiercely. After a few minutes, she asked, “I'm starving. Is there anything left to eat downstairs?”

-->

Ch 14 Trials at the Ministry

After several days of rest, both Harry and Hermione were doing much better. Harry had slept for nearly thirty-six straight hours after Hermione awoke, while Hermione spent most of her time resting in bed, chatting quietly with her mom, Molly, and Ginny.

When Ron had tried to visit, she had teased him by pretending not to recall him at all.

“Ron, hmmm. That's right. You have a toad, right? Can't remember things too well? Decent at Herbology, terrible at Potions. You improved a lot last year, though…yeah, I think I remember you.”

At first, Ron tried to explain that she was confusing him with Neville Longbottom after which Hermione than confused him with Draco Malfoy, Collin Creevy, Lee Jordan, and finally Fred Weasley.

Ron did not find the joke too amusing. Before he got too upset, Ginny firmly escorted him from the room. When she returned, Hermione was still chuckling as she spoke to Ginny, “Thin-skinned and temperamental. Now that's the Ron I remember.”

Ginny laughed too. “You know, Hermione, Neville improved a lot over the past year. Especially since his grandmother got him a new wand after his father's got snapped fighting the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. Ever since we went with Harry to try and rescue his godfather, Neville has been a much better wizard than people give him credit for.”

“Oh, I know Ginny. I was just pushing Ron's buttons,” she stopped and then looked more closely at Ginny. “Why are you defending Neville, anyways? I made fun of several Gryffindors and you didn't say anything about them.” When Ginny's cheeks blushed a light red, Hermione pounced. “Aha! You like him, don't you?”

Frantic, Ginny shushed her. “No, yeah, oh, I don't know. But keep it down. Do you know what it would be like if any of my brothers knew? Poor Neville. My family can be pretty tough on a guy, especially since they all think they have to protect their little sister.”

“Yeah, your brothers can be tough to deal with,” muttered Hermione softly.

“What? What do you mean?” asked Ginny.

This time Hermione looked around cautiously and dropped her voice, even though it was just the two of them. “Can you keep a secret?”

Ginny just stared at her and then rolled her eyes. “I grew up with six older brothers, Hermione. Of course I can keep a secret.”

“Well, it's no secret that Ron had a crush on me for a long time.”

“Really? I always thought Ron was the most subtle of my brothers,” snickered Ginny.

Hermione smiled slightly, then continued as it faded. “Well, you remember how things were the summer after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, right? Well, Ron and I spent a lot of time together at Grimmauld Place before Harry arrived, and he—err, asked me out a couple of times.”

“What? Ron finally worked up the nerve to ask you out? That must have taken him forever to…”

“I know. I know. Please, don't make this any harder than it already is. I told him no each time. I thought he was joking at first, because, well, you've seen some of our—uhh, disagreements.”

“Are you referring to one of the several infamous verbal slugfests which have actually cleared out Gryffindor tower, such as the notorious Yule Ball Brawl, or just the more common everyday sniping and bickering that only frightens away people from other Houses?” teased Ginny.

“Oh knock it off. We're not that bad,” argued Hermione. “At least most of the time,” she mumbled. “Anyways, the point is that I never could really see the two of us together. I don't know how Ron ever did. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I told him I wasn't really ready for any sort of relationship, and that we needed to be there for Harry.”

“Did you realize yet that you liked Harry?” asked Ginny in an odd sort of voice.

“No, I don't think so Ginny.” Noticing the look in Ginny's eyes, Hermione paused, “Look, I know you had a crush on him long before I ever did. I hope you don't think I stole him away from you, Ginny.”

Turning away for a minute, Ginny wiped some dust out of her eye and then looked back at Hermione, who had pretended not to notice anything. “Hermione, I don't think he was ever mine to have. I'm happy for you, for both of you, I really am.” And she leaned forward and gave Hermione a big hug which was returned gratefully.

“That means a lot Ginny. You're the closest thing I have to a sister. I would never want to hurt you in any way.”

“I know, Hermione. It's OK. So how did my brother take it?”

“About as well as you can imagine.”

“Ohhh.”

“Yeah. I did a lot of studying by myself, and he flew a lot on his broom. I thought it would be a relief when Harry got there, but as you can recall he was a little miffed about being left so long at the Dursleys. Anyways, I thought things were back to normal between us and then I found myself wondering if I did have stronger feelings for Harry than I had thought towards the end of the year. I kept telling myself I was just imagining things. And I thought Ron was over his crush so you can imagine my surprise when I got a letter from him two days after we left Hogwarts asking me to go to Diagon Alley with him, but I told him I still wasn't feeling well—which was true. Then he accused me of liking Victor and...well, we didn't write each other again and I didn't see him until we went to Grimmauld Place. In fact, we hardly talked until the afternoon that Harry wrote both of us and after that, we got so wrapped up in helping Harry train and study that we just put off that particular discussion indefinitely. I was so relieved when I realized that he and Katie were going out—I thought he was finally over his crush on me. And to top it off, the final spell that the three of us cast together to help defeat Voldemort worked perfectly, and it would only have done so if we were true friends motivated by trust and faith and love in each other.”

“So what are you worried about Hermione?”

“It's just that now that Katie is dead…”

“Now that she's dead, you think Ron's going to try and put the moves on you again? Why on earth would you think that? Come on, Hermione. Even Ron is not that thick. Everyone can see that you and Harry are inseparable, even my brother Ron.”

“Let me finish. The day I was attacked, the only reason I went to talk to Katie was because she was upset about the way Ron had treated her. The twins had been teasing her about cheating on Ron and she said that she broke it off with Ron because he was cheating on her…with Cho Chang!”

“WHAT?!”

“Shhh! Keep it down!”

“I'm not sure I'm following you Hermione.”

“Look, Ron has felt overshadowed his entire life by his older brothers. Then the first friend he makes at Hogwarts, his best friend, turns out to be the-Boy-who-Lived, the hero of the wizarding world. Now Ron has dealt with jealousy and envy before—remember when he wouldn't talk to Harry until after the first task in the Triwizard tournament?—and I thought he was over it, but since Voldemort's defeat, I don't know. His new scar, his new clothes and attitude, all those interviews emphasizing his own accomplishments, and now, if he is really going out with Cho Chang, the girl Harry used to like—I don't know quite what to think.”

Ginny stared at her and then laughed.

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger.

Putting up her hands in self-defense, Ginny sputtered, “Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, but really. I think you're overanalyzing this. Think about what you're saying. I don't think Ron is setting out to replace Harry and steal you away or anything. I mean he can be thick and all, and tactless, and…well, you know. But he loves Harry like a brother. Deep down, Ron would never do anything to hurt him. Or you. And as far as masterminding some plot, uhh, this is Ron we're talking about Hermione. I'll be the first to admit he's great at Wizard chess and plotting Quidditch plays, but I had to pick out gifts and flowers for him to give to Katie. And Seamus had to help him choose outfits to wear on his first couple of dates for crying out loud.”

Smothering a laugh, Hermione sighed, “Yeah, I guess I'm getting a little paranoid. Thanks, Ginny.”

“Anytime,” she laughed.

“But Ron is dressing a lot better now. Who's helping him match clothes now?”

“He's been spending a lot of time with Bill, I guess some of his coolness is rubbing off on Ron. So, have you mentioned any of this to Harry?”

“No, and I'm glad I didn't. He gets kind of defensive about Ron sometimes.”

With a mischievous grin, Ginny asked teasingly, “So Harry doesn't know that Ron beat him to the punch, huh?” At Hermione's angry glance she added, “I meant asking you out Hermione…unless there is something else you wish to discuss—anything else between you and Ron? Or maybe you and Victor?” Her eyes glinted mischievously.

“There is nothing else to discuss,” insisted Hermione in a tone of voice that indicated the conversation was finished. “Now, unless you'd like to spend the rest of the school year protecting Neville from your brothers' pranks…” Hermione's cool gaze met Ginny's steady look and they understood each other perfectly.

---

It was later that day, right after lunch when Harry knocked on Ginny's room looking for Hermione. She was reading in bed when he popped his head through the open door.

“Hello there Mione. Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, come on in Harry.”

Harry entered, looked around, and then closed the door before moving closer. He sat on Ginny's bed, across from the bed Hermione was laying in which Arthur had created for Ginny's visitor.

“What's up Harry?”

“Look, Hermione. About last week. I am so sorry I left you alone…”

“Nonsense, Harry. It wasn't your fault. Besides, you're the one who saved me after all. And we don't know for sure that they were using me to get to you. For all we know, I might have been the real target. Remember what Corlyn told us in Athens? Maybe this had something to do with Atlantis.”

“Yeah, well, look, I still feel like this is my fault. Everyone around me always seems to end up hurt or worse. I…”

“Harry, we've already gone over this before. I choose to be with you. I know the risks and the dangers, but I would rather face them then be apart from you. I can't try and pretend that I don't know you or love you. I couldn't do that, Harry. So whatever you're trying to ask, just forget it.”

“Oh, I know that Hermione. But thanks for reminding me. Look, I didn't come here to break up with you or do anything stupid like that. I just wanted to apologize is all. And I want to give you this.”

Reaching down, Harry tapped a belt loop on his left hip, which immediately transformed itself into the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Pulling the sheathed sword and belt off of his waist, Harry handed the sword and scabbard to Hermione.

“I want you to carry it with you everywhere you go.”

“Harry, it wouldn't have made any difference last week if I had been carrying the sword or not. I've already spoken with Saldar about this. He didn't recognize the threat any faster than the rest of us. He couldn't have helped me any more than he already did.”

“I know Hermione. But please, do this one thing for me. I know we don't know who the assassin was really after. But I know I would feel a lot better if you carried the sword with you, if you had just a little bit more protection. Especially if Corlyn was right at Athens and people might start targeting you.”

“But what about you Harry? I think you should carry the sword. After all, you are the one who is supposed to be…”

“No, Hermione, Saldar chose both of us. Either one of us can wield the sword. Look Hermione, we both know that I am the more powerful wizard. I'll be even better able to defend myself if I'm not distracted worrying about you. And I will worry less knowing that you are carrying the sword of Gryffindor.” At Hermione's angry glance, Harry continued, “Please, Mione, I don't want to argue about this. Please just take the sword and promise me that you'll take it with you everywhere you go.”

“Fine Harry, I promise. But I don't appreciate you thinking I need…”

“I know Mione. I'm sorry—I didn't mean it like that. But I'll feel a lot better, especially if there are other people out there looking for one of those artifacts from Atlantis.” She got up, and Harry strapped the belt around her waist. She tapped the scabbard, and it transformed into a beltloop.

“What do you think Saldar?”

“I believe Master Potter is correct, Mistress Granger. In light of recent events, we would both rest easier were I closer to thee in order to better safeguard thy life. Pray be not offended Mistress Granger, we are only concerned for thy safety.”

“I know, I know. I just don't like being treated like some little child…”

“that can't think for herself and all of the adults around you take it upon themselves to plan everything for you and protect you from danger? Yeah, Hermione, welcome to my life for the first fifteen and a half years. I know how frustrating that can feel, Mione, and believe me, that was never my intention.”

“Yeah, I understand, Harry. Thanks.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and asked, “Heading over to your house for another Quidditch match?”

“Yeah, you wanna come and watch?”

“Nah, I've got some reading to do. Thanks, though.”

“Suit yourself. See you later.” He kissed her cheek and whispered before he softly closed the door, “Thanks, Mione.”

---

After a couple of days of rest and meditation, Hermione began worrying about falling behind on her summer homework. When she began pestering McGonagall on her short visits about giving her an extension for her summer essay on Metamorphmagi so she could add a few more feet, everyone knew that Hermione was back to her old self and would be perfectly fine.

As for Harry, he made up for lost time by having the Weasleys over for games of Quidditch at his new home every afternoon. About five days or so after the attacks, both Harry and Hermione resumed their training with Saldar and Harry took up his lessons again with Dumbledore. Everything had just about returned to normal when a week after the attacks Harry and the Weasley boys joined the rest of the Weasley family for dinner after an afternoon Quidditch match. Hermione was sitting at the table with several books and a long scroll, scribbling furiously when a very distraught Arthur arrived at home.

“What's the matter, Arthur?” began Molly.

Running a hand through his thin red hair, Arthur shrugged and answered. “I'm not sure. Something big happened today, but I'm not sure what. There were all kinds of rumors flying around the Ministry today, but nobody seems to know exactly what. But I've got a bad feeling about this.” He paused and then looked at Harry and Hermione. “Did you get the letters yet? I just heard about it today—I can't believe they didn't provide more notice than this, but…”

“Letters?” asked Hermione. “We haven't gotten anything…”

She stopped as everyone turned to watch as two dignified eagle owls made their approach to the Weasley kitchen. The first one dropped an official letter stamped with the Ministry of Magic's seal in front of Harry and the second dropped an identical letter in front of Hermione. Nervously, they glanced at each other and reached to open them. As Harry read through his, his puzzlement changed to anger. Hermione was nearly as upset.

“There is to be a hearing tomorrow regarding the death of Katie Bell. I'm supposed to be there at 7:15,” explained Harry.

“And I'm supposed to be there at 7 o'clock sharp!” snorted Hermione.

“Yes, I'm sure it will be just a formality,” mumbled Arthur unconvincingly. “They were bound to summon you as part of the investigation.”

“Yeah, just like last time I went to the Ministry for a routine hearing,” complained Harry.

“And why have they only slotted me for fifteen minutes. That doesn't seem like very much time for me to fully answer any questions they might have.”

“Maybe they just want to have some time to talk to Harry before the day is over,” snorted Ron. Both Weasley women and Hermione glared at him.

“This isn't funny, Ron.”

“Oh, now you remember who I am, do you?”

“Yeah, and sometimes I'm sorry I do.”

“And just what's that supposed to mean? I guess…”

“Enough!” snarled Harry. “You two can bicker later. I want to get some dinner and then go to bed early. We're going to have to leave very early tomorrow morning—in case they try to move the hearings up earlier at the last minute. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a very long day.” Hermione and Ron simply glared at each other, but said nothing more as they ate quietly. Though he turned down Ron's offer of a game of Wizard's chess to retire early, it was very late before Harry finally fell asleep. His final thoughts were directed at Hermione.

“I have a feeling Fudge is up to something, Mione. I don't think he's forgotten the snub I gave him at the Order of Merlin ceremony.”

“I hope you're wrong, Harry.”

“Me, too. Good night.”

“Good night.”

But it wasn't a good night. Neither Harry nor Hermione slept very well that evening.

---

By five o'clock in the morning, Harry and Hermione were dressed and ready to go, waiting in the living room for Arthur to come downstairs. They were going to floo directly to the Ministry, and then check to make sure that there had been no last minute changes in the hearing schedule. As Arthur came down, he grinned as he saw the two leaning against each other, drifting off to sleep again as they sat in the comfortable sofa.

Arthur pulled out a small black box, stood in front of the drowsing pair, and pushed a small button. There was a small click and then a bright flash went off. Both Harry and Hermione jumped apart and quickly stood.

Glaring at Arthur, Hermione growled, “Why on earth do you think I'd want my picture taken at five in the morning?!”

Rubbing his eyes, Arthur replied, “Ahem, yes, well, the two of you did look very cute there on the couch, what with you snoring Hermione, and Harry drooling a bit there out of the corner of his mouth.”

“I don't snore!” insisted Hermione crankily.

“And I don't drool when I sleep!” hissed Harry as he checked the corner of his mouth, which was dry. “And next time you want to take a picture, Arthur, you need to turn the camera around. That flash is supposed to go off on us, not blind you.”

As Arthur began looking again at the camera, he began muttering. “Ah, right, right, Harry. Wonderful inventions these Muggles come up with. They never cease to amaze me…”

“We should probably be going now,” suggested Harry.

“Right, right. Of course Harry.” Stepping over to the fireplace, he picked up a pinch of floo powder from the pot, stepped in the fireplace and announced very clearly, “Ministry of Magic,” and disappeared. Harry and Hermione followed his example.

As they arrived in the main hall of the Ministry of Magic, Harry tried to ignore memories of his past visits. The lobby was nearly empty as they registered their wands with the clerk. Then Arthur guided them to the lift that would take them to the level where the hearing was to be held. Standing in the lift before the doors closed, Harry gazed at the fountain. The first time he had seen it he had nearly been expelled from Hogwarts after being summoned to a supposedly routine hearing of the Ministry. The second time, both he and the fountain had nearly been destroyed during Voldemort's assault on the Ministry of Magic. The third time, he had transformed it into a portkey to send Aurors and willing Ministry officials to help fight Voldemort in his final battle. He wondered what this fourth visit might bring.

He must have looked uneasy, because Arthur tried to reassure him. “I'm sure things will go much better this time.”

Harry didn't appear convinced, and even Hermione appeared apprehensive. Waiting for two hours outside the chamber doors did little to alleviate the tension, rather it grew worse. Finally, at seven o'clock sharp, the door opened and a thin, short man stepped out and looked at the three waiting silently on the bench.

“Miss Hermione Granger, if you would be so kind as to follow me?” he asked politely.

When both Harry and Arthur rose, he added, “I'm afraid only Miss Granger will be needed. The two of you may wait here.” Putting his hand on her shoulder, he guided her into the courtroom.

As Hermione stepped through the doors, she noticed on her right side a vast hall filled with seats, apparently for crowds allowed to hear a trial. She sighed in relief when she realized it was quite empty. She then turned to her left and froze for a moment as she realized that the chairs for seating the Wizangemot were packed with witches and wizards. Near the center was Dumbledore, who nodded briefly towards her. On one side of Dumbledore sat Minister Fudge and on the other a witch who looked vaguely familiar.

“Please, have a seat Miss Granger,” asked Dumbledore kindly. The short, thin man who had guided her in led her to a wooden chair with chains which sat facing the assembled wizards and witches. “Minister Fudge has called this emergency hearing in order to better understand the facts surrounding the unfortunate death of Miss Katie Bell,” explained Dumbledore.

The witch on his side continued, “We apologize for the extremely short notice you were given about the timing of this hearing, Miss Granger. Likewise, I am sure that Minister Fudge will explain why the entire Wizengamot needed to sit in on what is a simple fact-finding hearing. I trust there is a very good reason for the irregularities of these particular proceedings.” She then turned to glare at Minister Fudge, who seemed to waver only for a minute.

Fudge then spoke. “There are indeed special circumstances which necessitated this unusual hearing. All of that will be made very clear shortly. Now, to handle the questioning on behalf of the Ministry, I call upon Mr. Grimaldi.”

A dull murmur rose from the audience as they whispered amongst themselves. Minister Bones' voice overrode them all, “Why is this not being handled by an Auror? There is no precedent for this…”

“As I explained already, there are unique circumstances which justify the procedure we are following today,” explained Fudge coolly. “Please begin, Mr. Grimaldi.”

From Hermione's right emerged a short, wiry man with a very thin face and sunken cheeks. A few wisps of white hair clung stubbornly to his bald head. A pair of dark black eyes seemed almost hidden underneath his bushy eyebrows, but darted about with a wicked intelligence. Hermione shuddered for a minute as his gaze locked with hers momentarily, and then nearly jumped from her seat when she felt a hand grasp her shoulder softly.

“Easy does it Mione. It's just me. I can't believe they're pulling this same trick all over again.”

“What are you doing here, Harry? You're going to get in trouble.”

“I seriously doubt it will make much of a difference one way or another. I'm sure Fudge has cooked up something good this time. One more minor infraction isn't going to make it any worse. Besides, it can get mighty lonely in that chair all by yourself.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

“Miss Granger, I have a few questions I would like you to answer for the benefit of the court,” smiled Grimaldi with a haughty sneer. Hermione felt another involuntary shudder at the smooth, oily voice.

“Sounds like a Slytherin,” commented Harry dryly.

“Shh. I need to concentrate.”

“Miss Granger, did you notice anything unusual, anything at all, about Miss Bell when you met her at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade?”

“Well, uhh, no. She was extremely upset about…”

“A simple yes or no will suffice, Miss. We do not need additional gossip.” There was a burst of murmurs in the audience and the hand on Hermione's shoulder flexed threateningly.

In a slightly stronger tone, Hermione replied, “No.”

“That should be no, sir. You are in a court of law and should be more respectful towards the officers that serve in it.” Harry's grip tightened.

Hermione sat up straight and replied in a steely voice. “The answer was no. And when the officers of the court learn to act with common decency and courtesy, then they will not have to try and command the respect which would voluntarily be given them.” Harry's hold relaxed and there was a murmur of chuckles in the gallery.

“Touché, Mione.”

Eyes blazing as he glared momentarily at the crowd, Grimaldi returned to his interrogation. “Miss Granger, as you walked and spoke with Miss Bell, did you notice anything out of the ordinary as you headed out of town?”

“Afterwards, I thought it was a bit odd that she wanted to walk so far from Hogsmeade. At the time, I just thought she wanted to talk privately away from other people.”

“And who suggested a private talk?”

“Well, I did. But I didn't intend on going out of town.”

“Very well, tell us what happened as you left the village.”

“Well, when we got to the clearing, I turned my back for a moment and then Katie attacked me.”

“Did you see her attack you?”

“No, but it had to be her. There was nobody else there. It had to have been her.”

“But you did not see her actually attack you?”

“No, but when I turned my back, she placed a hand on the back of my neck and…”

“We are not interested in additional details right now, Miss Granger. If we were, we would ask you. Please just answer the question I ask you. It really shouldn't be that difficult for you, after all, I understand that you are consistently at the top of your class every year and a prefect as well. Did you actually see Miss Bell physically attack you?” Hermione could hear Harry grinding his teeth in anger.

“No.”

“And after the initial attack, you immediately fell unconscious?”

“No. I felt a blinding pain in my head and I cried out to tell her to stop. And then I called out to Harry. I…”

“Don't.”

“What?”

“Don't tell him that you contacted me telepathically.”

“Why?”

“I don't know—just a feeling, really.”

“Miss Granger…could you finish your statement?”

“I called out loud for Harry and then I passed out.”

“And you saw none of the events that occurred immediately afterwards?”

“Unfortunately, I was in a coma,” sneered Hermione. “or is that a detail that the court is not interested in?”

“Ah, yes. Your curious illness. None of the mediwitches seemed to know what to make of it. Yet Mr. Potter is the one who managed to pull you through, was it not?”

“Yes, it was. I owe him my life. As does everyone in this room. If he hadn't defeated Voldemort…”

Gasps could be heard again throughout the gallery.

“Miss Granger, Miss Granger. Once again, your quick tongue quickly outpaces the need for information. Please, confine yourself to answering the questions I ask.”

“Minister Fudge, I believe Mr. Grimaldi's sharp mind and pointed questions have uncovered the facts he has been pursuing. I think he has made his objective quite clear to those of us assembled here so unless he stands in further need of enlightenment, I believe we are done visiting with Miss Granger,” suggested Dumbledore in a soft, yet forceful voice.

Grimaldi gazed angrily at Dumbledore and then quickly looked away. “Yes, those are all the questions we have for you, Miss Granger. Oh, except for one more. Where were you yesterday morning between the hours of six and eight?”

Hermione looked startled at the question. “Harry and I were training. We usually go running and do some sparring and exercise. Why?”

Ignoring her question, he continued, “And was there anyone else present? Any adults who could corroborate this story?” If possible, his sneer grew more malicious.

“It's not a story. And there is…”

“Please, Mistress Granger, do not mention me. As thou well know, sentient objects are viewed with great suspicion. I fear that this court of vipers will neither believe nor accept my testimony. Especially if they discovered who I was.”

“What? But you're the sword of Godric Gryffindor! How could they not accept your testimony?”

Hermione thought she could hear Saldar sigh sorrowfully. “It is a long tale, Mistress Granger, one we do not have time for today. Believe me, they would not accept my testimony.”

“Miss Granger?”

“Uhh, no. There was nobody else there besides Harry and myself,” she answered.

“There was no other witness there, then? And was Harry there with you the entire time?”

“Yes he was.”

His eyes glittering gleefully, Grimaldi turned towards the assembled wizards and witches. “Then a young witch, an underage witch, is the only person who can testify as to the whereabouts of Mr. Potter yesterday between the hours of six and eight in the morning.” Turning back towards her he smugly asked, “And the two of you go off to exercise by yourselves every day?”

Hermione heard Harry's sharp intake of breath and felt his hand tighten on her shoulder once again and the air around her began to chill. She winced and shivered as she replied angrily, her own temper flaring, “I don't know what you mean to insinuate by your tone, but yes, Harry and I train by ourselves for two hours every morning. In case you've forgotten, we've faced some very formidable foes. And some of them are still around. And you never know when you're going to run into another one of Voldemort's pet snakes which has slithered out from under the rock it's been hiding under.” Hermione glared with undisguised hatred at Grimaldi, whose face flushed briefly in anger.

“And you would do anything to protect Mr. Potter, wouldn't you? Disobey school rules, break the laws of the wizarding world, lie for him to provide him with a cover story…”

Once again, Dumbledore spoke. “This is a fact-finding hearing, not a trial, Mr. Grimaldi, so unless you have any more relevant questions, I believe we are done with Miss Granger.”

Glancing angrily at Dumbledore, Grimaldi hissed angrily and waved dismissively in Hermione's direction, “You are dismissed.”

Hermione stood up swiftly, and after a quick glance at Dumbledore, turned and walked stiffly towards the door, not waiting for her guide to escort her. She threw open the doors in anger and stomped out into the hallway. Harry was waiting for her there, and wrapped her in a huge bear hug, as tears of anger and frustration rolled down her face. Unsure what else to do, he just stood there hugging her murmuring, “There, there, it will be alright,” over and over again, trying to comfort her.

“I'm sorry, Harry. I should have…”

“Don't worry about it, Mione. I'll be fine. The hearing was rigged from the beginning. They didn't want to hear the truth, they only wanted to use you to try and set me up for something. Don't worry, we'll figure out what it is and beat them at their own game. Dumbledore is in there and so are a lot of wizards who fought with us against Voldemort. But I'm going to need your help, OK?” The court official made the mistake of tapping Harry on the shoulder while he was trying to comfort Hermione.

Harry spun on him in anger. “And what do you want?”

“The court is waiting for you Mr. Potter.”

“Well go back in there and tell them they can bloody well wait another ten minutes. I'll be there when I'm bloody good and ready. Go on! Get!” The official caught Harry's subtle hint and nearly sprinted back into the court room.

As Hermione began to calm down, Harry looked at Arthur and asked, “Do you know a disgusting little toad named Grimaldi?”

Arthur nearly spat in disgust, “He is the Malfoy family lawyer. He's a snake, as vile as they come. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing really. It seems Fudge thinks he's a better representative for the Ministry then an Auror. He was the one asking all the questions in there—a real slimeball, that one.”

Arthur shook with fury. “What are they thinking? Why on earth would they have something like that,” again his face twitched in revulsion, “representing the Ministry?”

“I don't know, Arthur. But I'm going to find out. Don't worry, I'm sure everything will work out fine.” He hoped his voice sounded more confident than he felt. Turning back to Hermione, he whispered, “I've got to go, love. You going to be OK, now?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Give me your cloak.”

“What?”

“Give me your cloak. I'm going back in there. I have a feeling Fudge has something terrible up his sleeve, and I need to be there in order to help you.”

“Mione, you can…”

“Harry, we don't have time to debate this. Now give me the cloak.”

Slipping his hand into the magical leather pouch the twins had given him, he pulled out the cloak and handed it to Hermione. She quickly slipped it on, and then followed Harry as he walked to the chamber doors.

“You ready?” he asked Hermione.

“As ready as I'll ever be. And Harry, you need to control your temper.”

“I know, Hermione. I saw your session.”

“Yes, I know. But I imagine he's going to be ten times nastier with you. Keep your cool, no matter what he says. I have a feeling these guys are out for blood. If Fudge is willing to bend so many rules and regulations to bring you here for this mockery of a hearing, it's only because he figures he can nail you for good. He's risking everything by treating you this way after you've saved the world again from Voldemort. If the press ever got wind of this, his career would be over. He's a politician, Harry, not a dark wizard. But this is just as serious.”

“I know Hermione. I realize all that,” replied Harry in a slightly annoyed tone.

“I'm sure that you do, but I just want to make sure. Look, Harry, he's going to try and bait you, try and get you to lose control. You can't do that. If you get angry, he'll trip you up with something you say. Keep him off balance. Play this like you did that dragon in the first task.”

Harry paused in front of the doors for a moment, recalling that event in every detail. He remembered how nervous and anxious he had felt, how he hadn't been able to hear the crowd over the beating of his own heart. After he raised his wand and summoned his Firebolt, he knew everything was going to work out. From the moment he pushed off the ground on his Firebolt, all his fear and tension had fallen away to the ground. His mind had been perfectly clear and he had been completely focused on his one, solitary object. Get the golden egg without getting killed by the dragon. It was not that different from what faced him in the courtroom. Sure, Grimaldi was probably nastier than the dragon he had faced, but his task was the same. Don't let the enemy land any blows. Survive. And take whatever incriminating story they were trying to create to punish him and steal it from them, and then use it to show the whole world the truth. They had brought this fight to Harry, and he was determined to make them pay for it. He would bring them down, all of them. With his face set firmly, he swung both doors wide open.

“Coming, Mione?”

“I wouldn't miss this for the world, Harry.”

-->

Ch 15 Trial by Fire

Harry strode into the courtroom, his glance passing quickly over the assembled Wizengamot. Striding towards the chair, Harry stopped short when Grimaldi spoke.

“Ah, so good of you to deign to join us, Mr. Potter. No doubt you have more important things to do than attend a simple hearing requested by the Ministry of Magic and that's why you've been keeping all of us here waiting,” announced Grimaldi in a condescending tone.

“As a matter of fact, I have been here since five this morning. The last time I came for a routine hearing at the request of the Ministry, they rescheduled the room and the time at the last minute. And this is the second routine hearing I have been invited to that has required the full presence of the Wizengamot. Doesn't that seem a bit odd?” asked Harry, looking directly at Minister Fudge.

“Mr. Potter, you are here to provide information and answer questions, not pose them on your own,” commanded Grimaldi.

Matching Grimaldi's penetrating gaze calmly, Harry retorted, “And since when does a routine hearing require the use of a special inquisitor?”

“Mr. Potter, there is no reason to get testy. You have been invited here merely to answer a few questions…” sputtered Fudge.

“Didn't think you could handle the questioning yourself this go around, Fudge? There's nobody here but me but this time—Professor Dumbledore is a member of the Wizengamot again, he can't defend me. Surely you could cross examine a slow witted, delusional boy such as myself? Then again, perhaps not. But don't tell me that you couldn't find at least one of the Aurors in your pocket who could string together two complete, coherent sentences. You had to bring in the Malfoy family lawyer? I mean, seriously Fudge, this was the best you could scrape up? I don't really need to remind you that the last dirtbag he defended is now in Azkaban, do I?”

The courtroom exploded in reaction to Harry's comments. Fudge leaped out of his seat, his face purple with rage. Grimaldi stepped forward menacingly towards Harry and hissed, “You have no idea who you are messing with boy.”

In a smooth, quiet voice, Harry replied, “I know exactly what I am dealing with, you…”

“Harry! Calm down!”

“Order! Order!” shouted Madame Bones. “Mr. Potter, please take your seat. Mr. Grimaldi, you may begin with your questions.”

Harry waved his hand and Grimaldi's eyes widened in shock momentarily as the chair transformed itself into a long, comfortable bench. Harry brushed by the fuming lawyer to sit lazily on part of the bench amidst several oohs and aahs from the assembled Wizengamot.

Madam Bones spoke sharply, “There is to be no more use of magic in my courtroom, Mr. Potter.”

Hiding a smile, Dumbledore spoke, “If you are quite comfortable now Mr. Potter, perhaps we may begin.”

“Why don't you have a seat, Hermione. I think we're going to be here awhile,” commented Harry.

“You're such a gentleman,” she replied wryly. “By the way, you might have considered a less abrasive opening statement. Although I think Fudge and Grimaldi had that coming, I'm not sure everybody liked it as much as I did.”

Grimaldi began. “I see you are somewhat familiar with my work and some of my clients…”

“Yeah, what happened there Grimaldi? Did you lose your touch or what? You got Malfoy off the first time by pleading his innocence because he was under the influence of the Imperious curse. That trick didn't fool anyone a second time? Or was it because there were actual witnesses this time who saw his actions at the Ministry that night? Or perhaps the price…”

“Harry! Don't…”

“of justice has gone up over the past sixteen years, what with inflation and all.”

“finish that sentence.”

“How many thousands of galleons did Malfoy have to spend last time to grease enough palms—oh, beg pardon, I believe the phrase was give to charity—to buy his freedom? Malfoy couldn't afford it this time around?”

If Harry could have seen Hermione, he would have observed her slumping forward in her chair, holding her head in her hands. Dumbledore looked down and let out a long sigh as pandemonium erupted among the assembled wizards and witches. It took Madame Bones nearly five minutes to restore order again.

“Mr. Potter, I will not sit here and allow you to impugn the dignity of this court and the justice it provides to the wizarding world.”

“Don't you dare speak to me about the justice of the wizarding world!” hissed Harry dangerously, rising from his seat. “Off the top of my head I can name eight miscarriages of justice by this court! Malfoy, Avery, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott were all acquitted when they should have been locked up in Azkaban. They all returned to their master when he called them back to his side. Of course, all of them except Malfoy perished with Voldemort—so I guess the good news is that you can't repeat that particular mistake again. And you wrongly imprisoned Sirius Black for thirteen years—you threw him into Azkaban without even granting him a trial! The real murderer, Peter Pettigrew, ran free until he, too died with his master in the final battle. And you, Fudge, you threw Hagrid, a teacher at Hogwarts, in Azkaban, just so that the Ministry could say it was doing something about the attacks on students at Hogwarts four years ago. Who knows how many other cases have been botched by your so-called system of justice.” Harry glanced angrily at the members of the Wizengamot who could still manage to look him in the eye, most were avoiding his gaze completely. “So don't you dare sit there and lecture me about the justice of the wizarding world!”

With a furious glint in his eye, Minister Fudge stood to his full height, which was still far from impressive and glowered at Harry, “I will not stand for any more insolence from a self-important little publicity hound like yourself. Yes, we owe you a great debt for ridding the world of Voldemort, but you forget yourself young man. You are meddling in issues which you have no right to judge. If you don't halt these unwarranted attacks on the Ministry and its courts immediately I'll…”

“ban me from Quidditch again? Prohibit me from speaking? How dare you lecture me, you ignorant, arrogant, pompous, self-serving little b-“

“Harry!”

Harry took two steps closer to the Minister and continued. “After Dumbledore and I had warned you and the rest of the wizarding world that Voldemort had returned, most of you ignored us or wrote us off as either insane or fame-hungry. I don't even know where to begin on how idiotic that reaction by the Ministry was. Then one of the deputies of your administration took it upon herself to send two Dementors after me to keep me from rocking the boat any further. This same deputy was then installed as an instructor of Defense against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, the most important subject then being taught, especially given the fact that Voldemort had returned. She purposely avoided teaching anything of use and in fact, made extensive use of blood quills as a means of punishment. Funny, I thought they had been banned for over three centuries, but clearly I was mistaken. She also tried to administer Veritaserum without official permission—unless of course, I missed that particular decree—you see, there were so many and it was easy to miss one or two. Come to think of it, she probably did have permission from the Ministry to administer Veritaserum to the students, you and your toadies at the Ministry seemed to give her pretty free rein to do whatever she wanted.” Harry's gaze was boring directly into the Minister of Magic.

“However, I doubt that even you would have been stupid enough to give her written permission to use an Unforgivable curse on a student. No, she talked herself into attempting to use a Cruciatus curse on a student pretty much on her own, so I don't really hold the Ministry responsible for that one.”

Gasps of astonishment were heard throughout the hall as Harry finished.

“Mr. Potter, the official you are referring to, Dolores Umbridge, is still being treated at St. Mungo's. Even if there were any admissible evidence, we could not try her until she was released.”

“Evidence?!?! There were half a dozen of us who saw her talk herself into using the Cruciatus curse on a student! If …”

“By admissible evidence Mr. Potter, I mean testimony from an adult wizard, not underage students who obviously have a grudge against her.”

Harry chuckled. “Ohh, that's rich. By your standards then if a Slytherin student murdered a Gryffindor student in front of fifty other students from fifth year, there wouldn't be any charges brought unless one of the teachers actually witnessed the murder? Yeah, that sounds like a bloody brilliant system of justice to me.”

“Mr. Pot…”

“And I haven't even described the various decrees issued by the Ministry itself which curtailed nearly every individual right and freedom a student possesses. Our mail was read, we were prohibited from meeting in groups or clubs, we were prohibited from reading outside news sources, we…”

“Mr. Potter, you misunderstand. Those steps were taken to protect the students…” explained Fudge.

“Then why were they immediately removed after Voldemort himself appeared in the Ministry of Magic? If they were good before, why were they deemed no longer helpful afterwards?” Staring steadily at the audience, Harry finished. “How many of you here supported those decrees, or did nothing to oppose them? Did you think it was no big deal because it was just done to a bunch of students—a bunch of underage wizards and witches? What would have been the public reaction had you tried to enforce similar decrees on the Wizarding world as a whole? Would you have even had the guts to try it?”

As the uneasy murmuring grew sharply louder in volume in response to Harry's attacks, Grimaldi's oily voice rose about the tumult. “Once again, Mr. Potter, you are meddling in things beyond your comprehension. We are not here to explain the actions of the Ministry, we are here to better understand the death of a student at Hogwarts.”

Harry ground his teeth in frustration as he realized how Grimaldi had smoothly changed the topic and regained the upper hand.

“Calm down, Harry. You made some good points—I think you might have even persuaded a few more to our side. At the very least, you planted some doubts. But I'm afraid you also upset quite a few as well. Be careful.”

“Now that you've vented some of your adolescent moodiness, Mr. Potter, perhaps we could return to the subject at hand.”

Harry glared at Grimaldi and ground his teeth audibly.

“Now are we to understand that you did not know that Katie Bell was under attack?”

“No, I did not. I got worried that they were both gone so long, so I got Fred and George Weasley to help me look for them. We split up to look for them in Hogsmeade. I did not realize Katie was being attacked until I found her and Hermione and the attacker outside of Hogsmeade, by the edge of the Forbidden Forest.”

“And what did you do when you arrived Mr. Potter?”

“I saw that Hermione was laying on the ground. I noticed two other figures wrestling. I quickly checked to see if she was alive, and then I moved towards the two figures who…”

“So you wasted precious moments that could have been used to help save Katie Bell? In retrospect, perhaps not the best choice, Mr. Potter.”

“I needed to know if she was alive. And as soon as I arrived, there was another figure emerging from the Forbidden Forest, Samuel Hunt. The attacker was now outnumbered three to one. My hesitation did not cause her death, if that's what you are trying to insinuate Grimaldi.”

“I think we are better able to judge that than you, Mr. Potter,” assured Grimaldi in a superior tone.

“You think so, do you? When was the last time you were in combat, Grimaldi? And I'm not talking about quibbling with your pathetic clients over your fees. As a matter of fact, I don't recognize that many faces in the crowd from…”

“HARRY, NO! Don't risk…”

“the final battle against Voldemort.” Harry looked around as he spoke, making eye contact and nodding slightly at the surviving veterans of that fearsome battle.

“antagonizing more members of the Wizengamot.”

Harry ignored Hermione's plea and continued. “I assume the rest of you had…”

Harry's mouth continued to move, but no sound came out of it. His eyes flashed dangerously and they flicked momentarily to his left, towards Hermione. Only Dumbledore seemed to notice, and he quickly hid a smile, grateful for Hermione's intervention. “Calm him down if you can, Hermione. He can't risk offending any more members of the Wizengamot. If you…”

“And just what do you think I'm trying to do here, Dumbledore? Honestly! Now butt out—I need to talk to Harry for a minute.”

Dumbledore covered his mouth and coughed, to help to cover the awkward silence as the assembled wizards and witches waited for Harry to continue.

“Harry, don't finish that thought. I know you're upset, but it's not fair to accuse them like that.”

“But…”

“But nothing. Yes, some of them are cowards, but many of them were not in the Ministry at the time or did not know what was going on. It's not fair of you to judge them and it won't help you right now. Don't lose control—just focus on making it through this hearing.”

“Fine, but don't be casting any more silence spells on me.” Harry brushed his throat and took a few deep breaths. “And thank you, Mione. I needed a minute to calm down.”

“Yes, Mr. Potter? Please continue. I'm sure the rest of us are very interested in hearing the rest of your opinion on their contributions to the defeat of Voldemort.”

Harry paused and then spoke, “Uhh…I only meant to say that while I only recognized some of the people here from the battle, I am sure everyone else here was playing an important part and I appreciate their efforts as well.”

With a sneering smirk, Grimaldi continued skeptically. “I see. I'm sure the members of the Ministry and the Wizengamot appreciate your sincere approval.”

“Err, that didn't sound very convincing, did it Mione?”

“Not really Harry.”

“May I suggest we return to the purpose of this hearing, Mr. Grimaldi?” asked Dumbledore smoothly, earning a look of appreciation from Harry.

Realizing he needed to move on, Grimaldi returned his gaze to Harry. “Very well. Please tell the court again how Miss Bell met her end.”

“Well, Samuel Hunt and I were on either side of Katie and Aardus.”

“Oh, no Harry! You shouldn't have used his name. Now they're going to ask about…”

“Aardus? Who is this Aardus, Mr. Potter?”

“Uhh, that's the name of the vampire who attacked Katie.”

“And you were on a first name basis with this monster Mr. Potter?” Grimaldi chuckled evilly. “Even you should realize that doesn't sound too good.”

“Hermione and I had run across him while we were vacationing in Athens.”

“So that's where you were hiding from the Wizarding world, eh? And just how did you sneak out of England—I'm sure you were aware you would be missed by many in the wizarding community.”

“Err, I used a fake name and passport to fly to Greece on a jet with the Grangers. We traveled like Muggles,” he explained, looking at numerous expressions of confusion in the audience. “But my being in Greece had nothing to do with Katie's death, so I don't see why…”

“Oh, I assure you Mr. Potter, it is all relevant. It is simply more evidence of your lack of respect and utter disregard for authority and the rule of law.”

“What?” exclaimed Harry.

“Now please explain how it is that you and Miss Granger happened to run across a vampire in Athens.”

Still puzzled, Harry continued. “We were walking back from dinner one night and were attacked by five muggers. When we fought back, one fled, and we left the other four unconscious. Then we continued on our way home, when I caught Aardus following us.”

“And what spells did you use to defend yourself against this vampire?”

“I didn't cast any spells with my wand. I…”

“You would have the court believe that you single handedly captured a vampire? By yourself, without using a wand?”

“Yes. I could demonstrate on you if you would like further proof,” Harry rose from his seat and stepped forward with an eager look on his face.

Backing away quickly, Grimaldi's eyes widened in fear and then narrowed quickly in fury as he regained control.

Ignoring the chuckles erupting behind her, Madam Bones hid her own smile and spoke, “Mr. Potter, please retake your seat. Mr. Grimaldi, I trust these questions have some relevance to the subject at hand.”

“They do. They do. All will be made crystal clear very shortly. May I ask why you did not kill the vampire when you first met him?”

“I did not realize he was a vampire at the time. I caught him following us and he explained that he had been sent to protect us.”

“Really, Mr. Potter. Now the vampires are concerned about your safety?” snorted Grimaldi.

“Like I said, I did not realize he was a vampire. Not all of Voldemort's allies were defeated in the final battle. And I've had strange people guarding me in the past—usually from the Order of the Phoenix. Though the protection I received from the Ministry was usually the most dangerous.” Fudge glared angrily as Harry looked at him, but said nothing as others whispered behind him in the crowd.

“Harry! There is no need to keep baiting them like this. It's not going to help you…”

“Relax, Mione. It's all part of the plan.”

“Plan?! What plan?! If you have a plan, then I'd appreciate it if you would share it with me! Because all I see right now are lots of clever cheap shots at the Ministry that is not really going to put many of them in the kind of mood to go easy on you. You need to stop…”

“Stop thinking like a Ravenclaw, Mione. We're Gryffindors! We don't need an elaborate plan. We adapt, we innovate, we make it up as we go along! That's the plan!”

Once again, Hermione dropped her head into her hands and massaged her temples. “Damn Gryffindors! Courage was nice, but sometimes way overrated,” she thought irritably. “especially when it takes the place of coherent, logical thought. Many of my friends in Gryffindor could learn something from the other houses, whether it be thinking before you acted from the Ravenclaws, or at least attempting to use some subtlety when they did act like the Slytherins, or realizing there are other ways to change traditions and institutions than by directly opposing them, like the Hufflepuffs.”

“A very admirable idea, Miss Granger. Perhaps we should encourage some sort of interhouse visits during the coming school year,” suggested Dumbledore.

“What are doing eavesdropping on me? I thought I told you to butt out so that I could concentrate? You and Saldar stay out of this. Someone here has to stay focused and keep Harry from digging himself into deeper trouble.” replied Hermione peevishly.

“Well, you were thinking rather loudly, Miss Granger,” but Dumbledore quickly realized she wasn't listening to him.

“So when you recognized this vampire, did that cause you to hesitate, Mr. Potter?”

“No. Both Samuel and I kept moving closer, looking for an opening. We both launched our spells and…”

“And your spell struck Miss Bell, knocking her away from the vampire.”

“Yes.”

“And neither of you were quick enough to get to her before the vampire killed her. And then he managed to escape before either of you could finish him off, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You managed to finish off Voldemort, but hit an innocent victim with a spell which contributed to her death and then failed to apprehend the murderer. A bit off our game that day, were we Mr. Potter? Or did you just run out of luck?”

There was an uproar from the crowd and Grimaldi realized too late that perhaps he had gone too far.

Madam Bones was calling for order again.

A quiet voice cut through the clamor. “I've never claimed to be a hero or infallible. I'm not. I just do the best I can. Heaven knows lots of people have died because of me, even those closest to me. And despite everything I do, I can't save everyone. I wish I could but…but I can't.” Harry sat slumped in his seat for a moment as the crowd watched and waited in near silence.

“You'll always be my hero, Harry.”

“Thanks, Mione.”

“Now, if there are no further questions Mr. Grimaldi,”

“I have just a few more, Madame Bones.”

“Very well, continue then. But they had better be relevant. You have just about reached the limit of the court's patience.”

Grimaldi returned to a side table and picked up a huge pile of papers. He raised them above his head and addressed the Wizengamot. “These papers contain a series of complaints, warnings, and punishments given to Harry Potter while a student at Hogwarts. Even the most cursory of readings indicate a young man with a deep dislike and hostility towards authority and a blatant disregard for the rules and regulations which protect our society.”

Dumbledore stood up and protested, “Those records, like any student's records, are sealed. They are not to be used as evidence against a student. As Mr. Grimaldi has pointed out, any infractions Mr. Potter may have made at Hogwarts have been dealt with in the appropriate manner, as indicated in those papers. This is a serious breach of a student's privacy and…”

With only the faintest hint of satisfaction in his voice, Fudge spoke up. “Normally I would agree with you, Albus. But there are some special circumstances which dictated the need for these papers to be released. Please continue Mr. Grimaldi.”

With a feral grin on his face, Grimaldi proceeded. “Let me summarize some of the complaints noted in Mr. Potter's file. Breaking curfew, prohibited visits to the Forbidden Forest, Hogsmeade, and other areas of Hogsmeade, fighting with other students, theft of school supplies, the formation of illegal clubs, the possession and use of dangerous magical items, constantly challenging the authority of instructors, ahh the list goes on and on, but I believe I've mentioned the major infractions. What have you to say Mr. Potter?”

“I cannot deny any of those charges, though…”

“Once again, a simple yes or no will suffice, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes.” Murmured whispers spread throughout the room.

Dumbledore chuckled and Grimaldi spun on him. “Do you find this amusing?”

“Well, I have had some experience working with young wizards and witches as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and I have to say that Mr. Potter's record of behavior is not that much different from most other students, though it may be slightly thicker. I daresay similar records could be produced for anyone in this chamber, including myself.” Laughter spread throughout the room.

Grimaldi spun and glared at Harry again. “No doubt. But I am also interested in your behavior last year, Mr. Potter. I think many of us are curious as to how you became such a powerful wizard in such a short span of time. Please, tell the court about the training you undertook to defeat such a powerful dark wizard.”

“I had lots of help. I took extra classes with Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Remus Lupin and a couple of Aurors.”

“And how did you manage to fit in all of this extra study with all of your normal coursework?”

“I worked really hard and slept less. And the professors I worked with were very good. Much better than that witch Umbridge that the Minstry sent to Hogwarts two years ago.” There were a few chuckles after that.

“You didn't use any magical means to aid in your training?”

“What are you implying?” “Do they know about the Time Turner? Are they trying to implicate Dumbledore somehow and drag him into this mess?” “If you want to accuse me of something Grimaldi, just say it. Quit playing games.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Of course I did, you idiot. I couldn't just read about theory, could I? I practiced all sorts of spells with my wand, I read as many spellbooks as I could get my hands on. How did you think I trained if I didn't use magic? I'm a wizard, aren't I? Did you think I just woke up one morning with all sorts of powers at my command? No! I trained and I trained hard, just like any other wizard.” The chamber echoed with laughter.

“Excellent, Harry. You're keeping him off balance. Keep it up.”

Looking somewhat ruffled, Grimaldi continued. “These spellbooks you mentioned. Reports from the final battle indicate you used a number of spells that were not only very powerful, but also restricted. They shouldn't have been available for your study, even at Hogwarts. How did you gain your knowledge of these prohibited spells?”

Harry leaned closer and in a loud whisper asked, “Can you keep a secret?”

Flustered momentarily, Grimaldi replied. “Of course.”

Smiling widely, Harry replied, “Good. So can I.” As laughter erupted again, Harry continued. “You see, if it got out that there were additional copies of some of those very rare and expensive spellbooks that the Ministry and others have hidden away in their private collections, their value might drop considerably. We wouldn't want to upset the economy or bankrupt some of our wealthiest wizarding families would we?”

Grimaldi looked fit to be tied as he tried to maintain his composure. Suddenly his eyes glittered as he hissed his next question. “Tell us Mr. Potter, were you this amusing when you murdered that houseful of Death Eaters?” The chuckles ended quickly in uneasy silence as the blood drained from Harry's face.

“What did you say?!?!”

“I simply asked if you were this amusing as you took the lives of all those people at the Black mansion.”

The air seemed drier for a moment and the temperature dropped noticeably. Dumbledore's eyes expressed concern but before he could move Hermione spoke softly to Harry.

“Harry! He's just trying to rattle you. Don't let him get to you. And don't lose control of your magic!”

Harry rose and stood, his back straight with his hands clenched at his sides. In the silence his knuckles cracking sounded like distant lightening strikes. His face unreadable under a stony mask, Harry stared hard at Grimaldi until the lawyer looked away, unable to maintain Harry's furious gaze.

“I'm perfectly fine, Mione.” Harry took a few deep breaths and slowly unclenched his fists. “Those Death Eaters got what they deserved. They came to kill me and all of the friends who were with me enjoying the Christmas holiday. I gave them the opportunity to surrender peacefully, and they refused. When they attacked me, they sealed their own doom.”

“And who made you judge and executioner, Mr. Potter? Were they all equally guilty? What about those the Death Eaters had under the Imperious curse? Did they deserve to die, too, Mr. Potter?”

“Every Death Eater that entered that house did so under their own free will.”

“And how do you know that, Mr. Potter? Can you read minds now, too?”

“No, I can't. But to force someone to do something under the Imperious curse, the caster cannot cast any other spells effectively—it requires too much mental energy to stay in control. It wouldn't make sense for them to bring people under the Imperious curse if they would have to constantly be directing them—they would be unable to defend themselves if there was a battle.”

“And you presume to be an expert on the Unforgiveable curses, Mr. Potter? Oh but of course, I had almost forgotten. You have cast one of the Unforgiveables, haven't you? You cast a Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix Lestrange at the Ministry of Magic, didn't you?”

“After she killed my godfather!”

“Yes, yes, I know. Convicted felon and all that.”

“He was innocent!”

Dumbledore interrupted. “The Ministry of Magic has already investigated the event in question, and Harry was completely cleared. There is no need to bring it up again.”

“Calm down Harry! You're letting him get to you!”

“Really?! I hadn't noticed!” snapped Harry, but he paused and drew several deep breaths.

“Have you cast the Imperious curse as well, Mr. Potter?”

“No, but I've had it cast on me.” There was a collective gasp throughout the room. “And if Voldemort can't cast another spell while using the Imperious curse, I doubt any of his Death Eaters can.” Discussions erupted among the seated witches and wizards at this new information.

Madame Bones stood and asked, “I fail to see the relevance of any of these questions, beyond simply goading the witness. If that is all, then I declare this hearing…”

“One final question, Madame Bones, and then I am through,” explained Grimaldi.

“Fine, but this is the final question for Mr. Potter. I believe we have sufficient information to reach a decision.”

“Thank you,” he replied insincerely his eyes sparkling with glee. “Mr. Potter, where were you yesterday morning between the hours of six and eight in the morning?”

“I was with Hermione in the forest near the Burrow, running and exercising.”

“Were their any witnesses besides yourself and Miss Granger?”

“No.”

“I was afraid of this,” began Fudge in a seemingly sad voice. “It is as I have long feared. I had warned Albus time and time again about coddling the boy, letting him get away with breaking the rules, nurturing his independence.”

Dumbledore looked puzzled and asked, “What are you talking about Cornelius?”

“I fear that we have failed young Mr. Potter. We have allowed him to become that which he so recently defeated.”

Absolute pandemonium erupted. It took Madame Bones ten minutes to restore some semblance of order to the courtroom. “You need to be more specific, Minister. What are you talking about? Mr. Potter looks perfectly fine to me.”

“Isn't it obvious? The constant pressure, the stress, the expectations we put on him to defeat You-Know-Who. Harry has suffered too much at the hands of his muggle relatives, and too much under the hand of the Dark Lord. It has all been too much for the poor young man's mind. We should have protected him better. I can only blame myself for what has happened.”

Harry, gaping in astonishment, spoke up. “What are you talking about Fudge? I haven't done anything.”

“My dear poor boy. Yesterday morning there was an attack at Azkaban. All of the Death Eaters being held prisoner there were murdered. All of the guards were killed as well. Except for one. Somehow he managed to survive and was able to tell us who the perpetrator was.”

Harry gulped and sat down with a heavy feeling in his stomach.

“He said the person who attacked Azkaban and killed all those people, both the prisoners and the guards, was Harry Potter,” finished Fudge as chaos broke out once again within the chamber.

-->

There was a moment of silence in the room as chaos erupted. Some of the witches and wizards fainted, most rose to their feet and began shouting. Hermione was on her feet shrieking as well. Dumbledore locked gazes with Harry, his eyes full of worry and concern. Harry simply sat numbly on the couch as the waves of noise washed over him. Though he saw the looks of triumph on the faces of Grimaldi and Fudge, the faces full of concern on Madame Bones, Dumbledore, and numerous other wizards and witches, and felt Hermioine's hand on his shoulder, none of it really registered. He was being accused of murder!

Fudge motioned to the side and two small doors opened up, releasing several Aurors who Harry didn't recognize. “Your trial will be scheduled for one week from today. In the meantime, Mr. Potter, you will be kept sedated to prevent any attempt at escape since you have already demonstrated for the Wizengamot some talent for wandless magic.”

“Cornelius! How is he to organize his defense? He must be conscious and alert in order to speak with a lawyer and explain his story,” burst out Dumbledore.

“We have already heard his defense. He has none. The ministry has a witness, an adult witness, that will put him at the scene of the crime and we have nearly three dozen murder victims that demand justice. I will personally see that they get it. There must be justice, Albus, even if the Boy-Who-Lived is involved.”

“I must insist that he be allowed to…”

“Do I need to remind you that you are no longer at Hogwarts, Dumbledore?” sneered Fudge. “You have no authority here in the Ministry, and no power to insist on anything. I am the Minister of Magic and I convened this meeting of the Wizengamot. While you may preside over the Wizengamot, it is my responsibility as the Minister of Magic to look out for the best interests of the wizards and witches of Great Britain and I will do whatever I see fit to make sure that the accused harms no one else.”

“I understand, Minister,” replied Dumbledore in a soft voice. “I am sure we all want to see justice served. However, I would like to request that an additional guard from the Order of the Phoenix be placed with Mr. Potter to make sure that he does not escape.”

“Denied. There is no need for additional guards. In fact, there is no longer any need for the Order, now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been defeated and his heir apparent is in our custody.”

“I was not asking you for permission, Minister. I was placing my request before the Wizengamot. And I call for an immediate vote.”

Harry looked around, dazed, at the number of hands that voted in support of Dumbledore's measure. “Well, at least Fudge's Aurors won't murder me in my sleep.”

“Stop thinking like that Harry. We'll figure a way out of this.”

“I'm not so sure, Mione. I think they've got me trapped pretty good this time. Fudge would never have acted unless he was sure of the result. He's too big of a coward to do otherwise.”

“Don't be silly, Harry. You can just teleport away and…”

“And what? Run and make it look like I'm guilty? Hide from the wizarding world for the rest of my life? Even if I did, you know they would come after you and the Weasleys and Dumbledore and everyone else that is close to me.”

“Don't you dare give up on me Harry. We will get you out of this. We'll just have to find another witness besides me or something.”

“I'm not giving up. But I…listen, Mione, there might be a way. There is something I need you to get. Get Dumbledore or Remus to retrieve it for you, it's much too dangerous for you to go after by yourself.” Harry thought hard about what he needed to be done. “Do you understand? I can only hope that it wasn't destroyed and that it might actually have something useful on it. Otherwise I'm toast.”

“Harry! I won't let them do anything to you, I promise.”

“I know. And thanks, Mione. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

By then, the guards had arrived on each side of Harry and Hermione was forced to step back, to avoid accidentally bumping into one of them. Ignoring them, Harry stepped forward and pulled out his wand. Gaining a measure of satisfaction at the temporary fear he had seen in the eyes of Fudge and Grimaldi, he turned to Dumbledore and handed him the wand. In as steady a voice as he could manage, he said, “Take good care of that for me Professor, I'll be wanting it back in a week.”

Clapping a hand to his shoulder, Dumbledore replied. “Do not worry Harry. I will take excellent care of it for you.” He winked, but there was no twinkle in his eye.

Harry was surrounded by four Aurors with drawn wands. His hands were quickly tied behind his back, a silencing charm was placed on him, and then three Confundus charms were cast on him. Harry staggered, confused about what was going on around him, and one of the guards grabbed his arm roughly to hold him up and guide him to the door. Luckily nobody heard Hermione's muffled cries under the Invisibility Cloak.

When the doors to the courtroom were opened, flashes exploded and a dull roar enveloped the courtroom.

Dumbledore stood up angrily. “Have you no decency left at all?! I have seen many despicable and horrible acts, but I would have never suspected you to sink this low Cornelius. First you summoned him here, you summoned all of us here under false pretexts. You turned what was originally intended to be simply an information gathering council into a preliminary trial. Then upon indicting him, you order him sedated and then silenced and stunned with Confundus charms. And then to ensure his humiliation was complete, you invited the press to try and talk to him and take pictures when he has no way of defending himself. This is below you Cornelius, and it is below the Ministry of Magic. Harry Potter saved our world and your treatment of him…”

“Dumbledore, the people have a right to know. The boy has become a mass murderer. And we can't really afford him to be running around with a wand—he's much too dangerous. I really don't know what you expected to happen after he defeated You-Know-Who. Apparently the boy fell in love with the taste of power. Or the power of revenge. Either way, he will be punished for his crimes.”

“He has not been convicted yet, Minister Fudge. And I do not appreciate being kept in the dark about either the events at Azkaban or these charges you are bringing against Mr. Potter,” said Madame Bones angrily.

“Yes, well, I am the Minister of Magic and sometimes I simply have to do what needs to be done. Good day.” He then left the astonished members of the Wizengamot and turned to speak with the press.

Minutes later Dumbledore finally found Arthur, who looked like he was in a state of shock, at the far edge of the crowd.

“Arthur. Arthur!” Mr. Weasley remained dazed for several moments before realizing Dumbledore was calling to him.

“Albus, it can't be true. It can't be. What is going on here? Have they all gone insane?”

“Apparently, some of them have indeed gone quite mad. The rest just love a good, juicy story. Now listen to me Arthur. I need you to accompany Harry. The Wizengamot has authorized members of the Order to provide an additional guard on Harry. It is imperative that you do not let him out of your sight. I will send someone else along soon to assist you and I will arrange schedules to watch over Harry day and night.”

“Why? I don't understand…”

“They are going to sedate him until the trial next week.”

“They wouldn't.”

“They will. Fudge believes he has an airtight case against Harry. We need to find some holes in it. Have you seen Miss Granger?”

Hermione stepped out from behind a pillar. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there were tear stained tracks running down her face, but there was a look of determination in the set of her jaw.

“Good. Now go Arthur. We will head back to the Burrow now and let your family know. I will also send along someone from the Order to guard Harry with you as soon as I can. Go.”

Arthur quickly walked over to the guards and after a brief, heated discussion, replaced the guard helping Harry to walk. Arthur looped Harry's arm around his shoulders, and talking soothingly to him, helped him walk as the other guards followed with their wands out. Meanwhile, flashes from wizarding cameras continued to go off and the reporters continued to barrage the Minister for additional details.

Placing his hand on Hermione's back, he guided her towards the lifts so they could leave. Hermione watched Harry until he and his guards turned a corner out of sight. Then she marched straight for the lifts. Dumbledore was a bit hard pressed to keep up with her quick pace. Several minutes later they were flooing back to the Burrow. Hermione stomped out of the fireplace and without a word marched right past the startled Weasleys and out the back door, letting it slam loudly. Dumbledore began explaining what had happened to the assembled Weasleys, whose faces cycled between disbelief and outrage as the story of the trial unfolded. When Dumbledore had finished, everyone noticed some odd noises coming from outside. Molly stood up and said, “I think I'll go check on Hermione. She must be very upset.”

“It might be a good idea to give her a few more minutes by herself, Molly,” suggested Dumbledore.

“Nonsense,” she replied and headed into the kitchen. When Ron started to ask Dumbledore another question, the remaining Weasleys heard Molly shout “Oh, my!” and ran to see what had happened. Molly was frozen in place, watching something through the large kitchen window. They all moved closer and then stopped in shock.

Hermione was in the back yard launching spells at what appeared to be a large wooden head sitting on top of a thin body.

“Is that the face…” started Fred.

“of Minister Fudge?” finished George.

“I think it started out that way,” offered Ron.

A flash of purple and the statue had two heads. A flash of green and one of the ears fell off, completely severed from one of the heads. A flash of yellow, and one of the eyes began smoking. A flash of red and one of the noses simply exploded. A flash of orange and wooden teeth exploded out of one of the mouths. A flash of blueish-green struck one of the faces, and huge boils erupted on the cheeks and forehead. A shower of silvery sparks then struck the other face, leaving smoldering craters. A golden rope shot out of her wand and wrapped itself around one of the necks and started squeezing until the wood started cracking. A stream of white light split in two and struck one of the faces, and two horns emerged where the light had hit the forehead. Another flash of green and one of the horns was sliced off at the base. As it fell, Hermione pointed her wand and it stopped falling, simply hovering on the ground. She slowly swung her wand to the side and back behind her head, and the horn flew softly towards her. When it had almost reached her, she then snapped her wand forward again, aiming right at one of the heads. The horn zipped back towards the face, turning quickly end over end. The horn tip buried itself about three inches into the forehead, and rocked the entire wooden statue back and forth from the force of the blow.

With a graceful motion, Hermione slipped her wand into her back pocket and slowly walked towards the battered wooden statue. She then seemed to touch something on the side of her hip.

“What is she doing now? Hasn't she already done enough to that poor statue?” muttered Ron quietly.

Hermione seemed to freeze for just a moment, and then exploded into action. Though the Weasleys would discuss it later, they never could figure out exactly what she had done after she had put the wand in her pocket. Only Dumbledore guessed the truth, not because he saw more, but because he knew more. Hermione seemed to reach forward and swing her right arm from her left hip diagonally in front of her, finally raising her right arm high above her head. They thought they saw a glint of silver, but nothing more as Hermione's body blurred into motion once more. She seemed to pivot around her left foot, swinging her right arm straight across her body at shoulder level and when her arm swung towards the second head, her arm angled up again, and then swung quickly back down to her left hip. In less than half of a second, she had spun a complete circle, waving her arm for no obvious reason, and had returned to the same position she had held a split second before. A heartbeat later, half of each wooden head in front of her slid to the ground. They had been sliced cleanly, not a splinter was evident on the smooth surface where they had been cut.

Hermione stepped back and studied the remains of the wooden statue. In the blink of an eye, she had her wand back in her hand and cast a final spell. The wooden statue transformed itself back into a picnic bench. However, the benches on either side were broken, there was a clean slice going through the center board of both, and each half fell to the center. Instead of making a straight line for people to sit on, each bench was v-shaped. The Weasleys and Dumbledore could tell she tried to cast the spell again, but the benches remained broken. When she replaced her wand in her pocket, Ginny's voice broke the silence.

“Get away from the windows now! Act like we're getting lunch ready.” Everyone quickly moved away from the window and began bumping into each other, trying to look busy as Hermione walked back towards the house.

When she opened the door, Molly bravely put on a smile and asked, “Are you feeling any better, dear?”

Hermione cheerfully replied, “Much better thank you. What are the lot of you doing here in the kitchen?”

Mumbled replies of nothing and getting lunch met her ear. “Oh, what an excellent idea. I am getting rather hungry. I expect Dumbledore has told you about our morning at the Ministry?” This time, only silence. She looked at the Weasleys oddly until Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Yes, Miss Granger. I have informed them of Harry's predicament. I…”

“Excellent. Then I won't have to go over that again. Now I've been thinking about a few ways we might be able to help—we've only got a week, you know—so we're on a bit of a tight schedule. Of course, if you're able to help. I mean I shouldn't presume that…”

Molly stepped forward. “Hermione, you don't even need to ask. Of course we'll do anything to help Harry. Don't be silly.” Affirmative shouts surrounded her, making the kitchen ring with noise.

Hermione suddenly burst into tears and wrapped her arms around Molly. “Thank you so much, Molly. It really means a lot right now. It's been a rough day.”

“There, there, Hermione. Everything will work out fine. You'll see,” soothed Molly, as she hugged Hermione and patted her back softly.

Wiping her eyes, Hermione stood back. “Right then. No time for that.” Turning around, she saw Dumbledore. “How long are you going to be here?”

“I have to contact a few people, but I plan on being here the rest of the day, Miss Granger.”

“Good. I'll need to talk to you later.” If he appeared surprised at her directness, he hid it well.

Then she spun and stared at the twins. “You two. Meet me outside in two minutes. I have to go get a few things and then I need to talk to the both of you.” She then spun on her heel and left the kitchen. When they heard her stepping on the stairs, Ron turned and hissed at the twins.

“Do whatever she says and do not make any jokes. I'm warning you…”

“Do we look like complete idiots, Ron?” snapped Fred.

“Or did you miss the entire fireworks display outside?” asked George.

“I didn't even recognize half of those curses she used,” added Fred.

“That is probably because most of them were from the Restricted Section of the library,” noted Dumbledore dryly.

“Shh! Here she comes,” yelped Ron in a panicky voice.

Hermione was carrying a bag on one shoulder and stopped to look at the twins. “I thought I told you two to meet me outside?” Fred and George nearly tripped over each other trying to get through the back door first. Ginny covered her mouth to stifle a giggle and Dumbledore's eyes regained some of their twinkle. Hermione moved to follow them, and then paused at the doorway to turn and look at Molly. “Umm, Molly, I believe I owe you a new picnic bench. Your old one—well, it had a bit of accident I'm afraid. Sorry about that.”

“Don't worry about it at all, Hermione. Accidents happen dear.”

Hermione closed the kitchen door and went out back to talk to the twins. Dumbledore and the remaining Weasleys watched for a few moments to make sure the twins survived the initial three minutes with Hermione, but her wand remained in her pocket as the three became immersed in a deep conversation.

“Well, now that she has blown off some steam, I think Hermione will be feeling much better. Molly, if I may borrow your fireplace, I need to arrange for some additional help for Arthur and speak with the other members of the Order,” said Dumbledore.

“Of course, of course. Do you really think she will be all right Albus?”

“I hope so Molly. And it is much better for her to be actively doing something for Harry, than sitting around doing nothing. I really think it is for the best. And try not to worry about Harry. We will do everything in our power to help him.” He then left the kitchen.

Looking out the window, Ron said, “Maybe I should go out and offer to help with whatever it is they're planning.” Before Molly could speak, Ginny grabbed his arm.

“I wouldn't do that right now if I were you Ron,” she warned.

“But I'm her best friend. I know…”

“And you're also the one most likely to set her off. If she wants your help, she'll come and ask you for it. But don't go butting in right now and whatever you do, try and keep your mouth shut around her for the next week.”

“Ginny!” shouted her mother and Ron at the same time, but she held her ground and returned their angry stares with equal determination.

“Ron, you know I'm right. I know you mean well, but you have a tendency to push Hermione's buttons, even when you don't mean to do it. And if I know Hermione, she's going to be wound up tighter than a spring for the next week or so. So unless you want to end up like our picnic table, I would lay low for the next week if I were you.”

Ron's mouth opened several times but no words came out. Then he stomped angrily from the kitchen and slammed the kitchen door. Molly and Ginny could hear his feet pounding on the stairs as he climbed to his room and slammed the door.

“Ginny, was that really necessary? I can't believe how mean you were to your brother just now. Ron has had a terrible week. His girlfriend was murdered, one of his best friends was put in a coma during the same attack, and now his other best friend is being sent to Azkaban. That's a lot for anyone to have to deal with.”

“I know, Mom, but trust me. He needed to hear it. Look, I know Hermione as well if not better than Ron. You saw what she was like just ten minutes ago. Dumbledore may think she's feeling better after her little vent, but I'm telling you that she is barely holding it together right now. And it doesn't take much from Ron to set her off, even on her best days. Harry's always been the calming influence between those two—without him, well, I don't think I need to draw you a picture.”

Molly's eyes looked sad, and Ginny felt terrible for having hurt her mother's feelings. “Mom, I'm sorry. I know you love the idea of the three of them being best friends and everything. I know. But they're different now, or at least Harry and Hermione are, especially since the final battle against Voldemort. I'm afraid that if Ron doesn't start growing up, he may lose one or both of them as friends.”

“What do you mean, Ginny?”

Ginny sighed, wondering how much she should tell her mother. “If Ron doesn't stop getting jealous about being in Harry's shadow, or stop being upset that Hermione fell in love with Harry instead of him, he'll end up pushing away both of them.”

“Do you really think so, Ginny?”

“I don't know for sure Mum. I hope not. But I don't think Ron can keep going like this if he really wants to keep both of them as friends.”

Molly sat at the table, chin in hands, deep in thought while Ginny glanced out the window at Hermione and the twins. Then she saw George coming back to the house with a strange look on his face.

--

When Hermione got the twins alone outside, she began talking quickly with them.

“Before they took Harry away, he showed me something he had been working on with the two of you a couple of months ago that he thought might be of some help. It was like a magical video camera.”

“A magical what?”

“It could take a series of pictures of something that actually happened, and then replay them, like with the Omnioculars at the Quidditch World Cup.”

“Oh, the Eye of Sauron.”

“The what?”

“Eye of Sauron.”

“Extremely evil wizard.”

“tried to conquer the world,”

“rule all the races,”

“destroy all who opposed him,”

“bit off his rocker, actually”

“like most dark wizards.”

“Tried to use a magic ring of all things,”

“Why not a sword?”

“Or a club?”

“Or a spear?”

“Or a really big axe?”

“Anyways, a great bedtime story,”

“Surely you've heard of him?”

“Do you mean Sauron from Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien?” broke in Hermione finally.

“Of course, who else would it be?”

“Smashing great wizard, too, that Tolkien,”

“Heard he was friends with Dumbledore way back,”

“Well, that figures,”

Hermoine simply shook her head in disbelief. This was something she would have to sort out later. “OK, back to the Eye of Sauron. Look, I just want to know if it works.”

“Well of course it works,” replied Fred indignantly. “We made it after all.”

“But we weren't going to send them to Hogwarts, if that is what you're afraid of Hermione. Honestly,” explained George.

“We developed them for possible use in the war against Voldemort,” finished Fred.

“Why would you send them to Hogwarts?” Hermione looked puzzled for a moment. “Never mind. So they work. Tell me how they work.” Hermione listened intently for several minutes and then asked several more questions.

“How well do they work? How long will they go on recording?”

“They worked perfectly in all of the tests we came up with. And believe me, Harry thought up some good ones. We designed them to last over a year, but they might last longer.”

“And how good is the image? Does it record sound as well?”

“Yes, yes. With the tests we ran on it, Harry said the images were about as clear as those from a Pensieve.”

Hermione chewed her lip as she thought. “Right then. I don't know the item well enough and I can't risk damaging it in any way, so I'll need one of you to come with me. The other one can stay here and work with Ron. So which will it be?” she asked, looking at the twins excitedly.

“Uhh…Hermione? What are you talking about?” ventured Fred.

“What do you want us to do with Ron?” asked George.

She looked at them as if astounded that they couldn't read her mind. “Well one of you will work on a plan with Ron to break Harry out of Azkaban if none of our other options pan out. I'm sure Dumbledore and the others will be trying all the legal and bureaucratic methods that might be able to get Harry out of this. But I want a plan just in case nothing else works. I'm not going to let them throw Harry in Azkaban for the rest of his life!”

“But Hermione,” protested George until he felt the full effect of Hermione's angry glare. He gulped and changed his thought. “What about Ginny? She's pretty clever, too. Should we ask her for some input?”

“She might help you later. I've got something else for her to work on right now.”

Looking skeptically at his twin, George offered to work on The Jail Break Plan with Ron.

“Good then. Off to work now,” commanded Hermione.

As George headed into the house, Fred looked uneasily at Hermione and asked with great trepidation. “Uhh, and what are we going to do, Hermione?”

“We, dear Fred,” began Hermione as she linked her arm in his and began leading him back to the house, “are off to Azkaban.”

-->

“Have you gone completely insane?!?!” shrieked Fred.

Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth and hissed at him. “Quiet, you idiot! Now listen closely. Harry installed one of those Eyes of Sauron in Malfoy's cell at Azkaban early in the spring before the final war. He thought there might be an attempt at a prison break or something. If anyone besides Malfoy entered the cell, it would have set off an alarm for him at Hogwarts. Well, needless to say, since the end of the war, he hasn't been monitoring it at all. But if we're lucky, maybe we can discover the real murderer by reviewing the images. If it was still working and if it survived the attack. But we have to go there and retrieve it ourselves.”

“OK, OK. But we don't even know how to get there, or how to break in once we get there…”

“You're a Weasley twin aren't you? You've been preparing your entire life for this, haven't you?” Seeing him smile mischievously she continued. “Look. I know how to get there. And I know the basic layout of the prison and the island. Harry showed me. What I need you to do is take my bag and get a few items from your shop, anything you think may help us get in and get out undetected.”

“Right, I can do that,” Fred's eyes seemed to begin glowing with excitement. “Uh, Hermione? How are we going to get there? I'm sure it's too far too fly and I'm pretty sure it's not hooked up to the Floo Network.”

Smiling smugly, Hermione said, “We'll just Apparate there.”

“But, but you haven't passed the tests. And you have been on vacation all summer—you don't know how to Apparate do you?”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione replied, “Harry and I have been able to Apparate since just after Christmas. Even Ron can Apparate. We thought it might come in handy in a pinch. And don't even presume to lecture me on proper licensing, or have you registered your second Animagus form yet?”

Fred grinned and began chuckling. “Not exactly behavior one would expect from a prefect, Hermione.” He thought for a minute and then asked. “So I guess we'll transform into birds to actually fly to the island from the shore? I doubt we can actually Apparate there, can we?”

“No, we can't. We'll use Harry's Firebolt.”

“Why?”

“Just in case we do run into trouble, I'd like to be able to use my wand.”

“Good point, Hermione.”

“I assume you can handle a broom as fast as a Firebolt?” she teased.

“Of course. But what about you?”

“I will be riding behind you. And don't get any funny ideas—because I will hex you right off of it if I hear one joke.”

Fred looked at her very seriously. “I wouldn't dream of it Hermione. Not a peep.”

“Good. Now here is what I was thinking. I think we'll have the best luck if we go tonight after sunset. You head to your shop at Hogsmeade and get whatever you think might be useful tonight. Here's my bag—it's already got Harry's cloak and the Firebolt inside. I need to talk to Ginny for a bit first. I'll meet you at your shop in two hours. I'll just tell everyone I'm heading to the library at Hogwarts—nobody will miss me for hours. We can spend the rest of the afternoon until dusk working out the details and then we'll just Apparate from there to the shore near Azkaban. Any questions? Good, I'll see you later then.”

With a pop, Fred disappeared. Hermione walked back to the kitchen where Molly and Ginny were waiting.

“Where did Fred go?” asked Molly.

“Oh, uhh, he's off to Diagon Alley to see if anyone knows about this witness of Fudge's. He's trying to dig up some useful information for the trial.”

“Oh, well I suppose that is a good idea,” sighed Molly. Ginny however looked at Hermione with a thoughtful look.

“Gin, if you have a few minutes, I'd like to talk to you.” Ginny nodded and followed Hermione up to the room they normally shared.

As they climbed the stairs, Ginny whispered, “Nice cover story for Fred. What are you guys really up to?”

“Why, Gin, we're not up to anything,” smirked Hermione. “And if we were, you know I couldn't tell you. By the way, how did you know?”

“The stuttering hesitation at the beginning. Normally my mom would have picked up on it—especially after raising the twins—but she's pretty stressed right now. Besides, it was pretty convincing.”

“Well, coming from a Weasley, I'll take that as a compliment.” By then, they had reached Ginny's room. Closing the door, Hermione locked it and then cast an Impermeable charm to prevent anyone from accidentally overhearing them.

“Ginny, remember that day after the DA meeting when we were talking about future career plans?”

“Well, yes, but I don't see what that has to do with…”

“Are you still serious about doing what you told me?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then I have an early Christmas present for you, Gin.” Hermione reached for her wand and walked across to Ginny's desk while Ginny looked on in confusion.

Nearly two hours later, Hermione finished talking and looked at Ginny. “I've got to get to the library now and do some research, can you handle the rest of this?”

Ginny nodded excitedly. “Do you really think this will help Harry?”

“I do. It certainly can't make things any worse, but it should definitely make things much more difficult for the Ministry. Are you going to have time to finish it by yourself?”

“Don't worry Hermione. I can do it. I know a few people who might be interested…”

“Good. I've got to go then. Good luck, Gin.”

“Thanks, Hermione. And thanks for giving me a chance to help. It means a lot.”

Hermione smiled and then left. Gin sat at her desk and watched her go, then she began tapping a quill against her cheek, deep in thought.

Returning downstairs, Hermione passed Molly on the stairs.

“How are you doing, dear?” she asked.

“I'm fine, Molly. Really. Thanks for asking. I was just headed to Hogwarts to look up a few things at the library. May I use your fireplace?”

“Are you sure? It's getting rather late in the afternoon…”

“I won't be there all night. I promise. And I'll grab something to eat with Dobby if I get hungry. Don't worry—I'll be fine.”

“Very well, take care then. I'll see you later tonight then.”

“Right. Thanks Molly.”

Hermione went to the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of dust, threw it in the fire, and spoke very clearly but very softly, “Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Hogsmeade.”

When the room stopped spinning, Hermione looked up to see Fred muttering to himself as he examined a number of items laid out on a long table. She moved over quickly and together they began talking quietly, with Fred occasionally pointing out an item on the table. They only stopped once, at Fred's insistence, and that was only for five minutes while he ran down the street to grab them something to eat. About an hour after sunset, Hermione decided it was dark enough to head to Azkaban.

She put her hands on the sides of Fred's head, and showed him the images of Azkaban that Harry had shown her, so that he could Apparate there with her. They gathered their bags and disappeared a moment later.

They reappeared behind a large, solid tree and peered cautiously around the trunk.

“I don't see anything,” whispered Fred. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

Hermione nodded and pointed to a tall, dark shadow that could barely be seen against the stars over the ocean. “I think that's Lindisfarne Castle. Azkaban should be on an island behind it.”

“I can't see it.”

“Nobody can. The entire island is unplottable, like Grimmauld Place.”

“How did Harry find it then?”

“I'll show you in a minute.” She bent down to her backpack and pulled out a small stick with twigs on it.

“What is that?! Is that Harry's Firebolt?! How could you do that to a Quidditch broom, Hermione?!”

“Would you shut up already? How did you think I fit his broomstick in my backpack? Besides, Harry's not going to care if I shrunk his Firebolt as long at it helps him beat a lifetime sentence to Azkaban,” she muttered irritably as she waved her wand over the miniature broomstick and restored it to its proper size. “Honestly! Idiotic men and their stupid brooms!” She then began waving the wand again over the entire length of the broomstick and it slowly changed colour to a deep ebony. “It's dark enough that I think we can get away with colouring the broomstick black instead of making it invisible. We'll use the Disillusionment charm on ourselves, and we'll fly low and circle around to the other side of the island and make our approach from the ocean.” Fred nodded his head.

Hermione then attached a wristwatch to the broomstick. Making sure that it wouldn't slip off, she looked at Fred. “Good. Now do you have any questions?”

Fred spun his head around, his eyes wide. “Did you…did you just…”

“Yes. And thank goodness I didn't do that when we were on Azkaban. Don't worry, I don't want to know any of your dark little secrets. But you don't have to talk out loud while we're on the island, just concentrate on a thought and I'll be able to read it. And I can talk to you if I need to. OK?”

“OK.”

“From here on out, think it. Don't say it.”

“Right.”

“Let's go then.”

Hermione watched as Fred cast a Disillusionment charm on himself and disappeared from her sight. She then cast the charm on herself, feeling her back tingle as the spell manifested itself.

Fred reached for the dark Firebolt and held it steady as Hermione climbed on behind him. They rose slowly, just a few feet off the ground and followed the ridge several hundred feet down to the beach where the waves were falling on the shore. Keeping the shadowy castle off to their left, they headed out to sea in a large arc. After five minutes, they were about a half mile off the coast, with the island now directly between them and the shore. Fred turned and headed straight back towards it, barely keeping the broom above the rolling waves. Their legs were wet from the breaking of the waves, but the night was warm so they didn't feel too cold.

“What are we looking for?”

“Keep your eyes on the Muggle watch. As soon as we pass over part of Azkaban island, it will stop working.”

“But even if we know exactly where it is, we still won't be able to see it, will we?”

“Not unless you know the password. Sirius told Harry the password and the general location of Azkaban when they were both at Grimmauld Place for Christmas. Apparently the guards weren't too careful in keeping the prisoners from learning the password. After all, nobody had ever escaped before. Just let me know when the watch stops working.”

Hermione kept her eyes focused on the island she could see, alert to any sign of movement. Fred flew slowly, keeping a close eye on the watch. Finally, he stopped.

“Uhh, your watch hands just started spinning circles but now they've completely stopped. I think we're there.”

Hermione whispered quietly, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter in.”

“What?”

“That's the Ministry's twisted idea of a funny password. It's from a Muggle poet named Dante. It was the greeting inscribed on the gates of the underworld in one of his poems. You need to say it out loud, but do it quietly.”

Fred repeated the phrase and then gasped as he saw the island appear before his eyes. Hermione and Fred then spent a few minutes looking closely at the rising ridges around them to see if she could see any warm bodies that might be those of waiting guards. They finally glided over a pebbly beach that faced the open sea. Fred touched down gently and they both dismounted.

“Did you see anything, Fred?”

“Not a soul. They've got to have guards around here somewhere, though.”

“They're probably just closer to the prison. Come on.”

“Wait. Let's put on the Sneaking Sneakers first. It will be a lot easier to be quiet in those.”

Each pulled out a pair of dark, moccasin-like shoes that were very light and comfortable and put them on, putting their regular shoes back in their packs. Without a sound, they walked quickly across the beach and began climbing a small rise. On the top of the rise, they dropped to their stomachs and looked around. There was a large, square edifice that seemed to be built almost on top of a solid rock bluff that faced the coast of England. From the angle they had, they couldn't see any guards at all.

“They're probably in front.”

They walked towards the base of the bluff and looked at the steep wall of rock that towered in front of them nearly fifty feet. Fred held out the Firebolt again, and they both climbed on. They hovered for a moment just below the edge of the cliff while they peered over it to make sure the coast was clear. They then eased over the edge and made their way to the back of the stone wall. Hermione took the broom and hid it behind a short bush growing along the side of one of the walls.

“What is this place? This doesn't look like a prison.” commented Fred.

“It's probably an abandoned monastery. It's sort of a cross between a church and a boarding school. Monks, very religious men, would dedicate their lives to study and prayer and live here. There's lots of them across England and on different islands just off the shore.”

“Well, how long would they live here—I mean, it looks pretty dull around here.”

“They would live here their entire lives.”

“Really? What did their girlfriends think? I can't see them liking this place much.”

“Monks never married. Convents were the places where nuns, or religious women, would live. They took vows of chastity as well and never married.”

Fred stopped to try and look at Hermione, but she could hear the disbelief evident in his voice. “How in Merlin's name do the Muggles even survive, let alone ever get born? How can it be that there are more Muggles than wizards?”

Hermione smiled. “Well, only a few people become monks or nuns. The first island we passed, the one with Lindisfarne castle, is known as Holy Island. Its two monasteries produced two of the most important monks in English history—Aiden and St. Cuthbert. Muggles still visit the castle and the ruins of the monasteries on that island. I reckon these are the ruins of a third monastery that has been long forgotten and claimed by the wizarding world to serve as the prison of Azkaban. Careful now Fred, we're almost to the front.”

They peered around the corner towards the front of the building and saw nothing. There had been a huge gate hanging at the front, but now there were nothing but splinters laying around it. Part of the stone wall had been knocked down as well.

“That must have been from the attack. I wonder why they haven't repaired it yet. And why aren't there any guards here? Let's go.”

“Wait a minute, Hermione. Let me have a look at the gate first. Stay right here.” Fred moved forward soundlessly and returned five minutes later to the spot where he had left Hermione. “Even with the gate destroyed, there are still a bunch of magical wards guarding the entrance. If I had two hours, I doubt I could get rid of all of them. The walls aren't too high, but there are wards on them as well. If we touch them, we'll set off some sort of alarm—I'm pretty sure. We better go back and get the Firebolt.”

“No, we can't risk being seen. A broom flying itself would definitely raise some suspicions. We'll have to fly over the wall in our Animagus forms and hope the Disillusionment charm keeps working.”

“It may not keep working if we transform?”

“I don't know for sure. Theoretically, I think it should, but…”

“Can you see me?” asked Fred.

“Of course not, now let me think…”

“Well, if you can't see me, then I guess the charm is still working.”

Hermione sighed in exasperation and transformed into an owl. “Let's go then, but transform back as soon as you land on the other side of the wall.”

A moment later they landed softly in the large courtyard. Off to one side, they could see a long, one story building that appeared to be the housing for the wizard guards. Dominating the center of the courtyard was a two story building, a small church with a short bell tower. Hermione and Fred quickly spotted two wizards sitting easily in front of the large double doors.

“I can't believe they really did that. I thought maybe Harry was mistaken.”

“What?”

“They've desecrated that church. They've put the filthy prison of Azkaban beneath holy ground! Inside that church, in the center of the chapel will be a door that descends into a series of tunnels carved out of this stone bluff. Along those tunnels are the cells of Azkaban.” Hermione fought to control her outrage.

Fred suggested a plan. “Let's fly to the top of the bell tower and then work our way down. That looks like the easiest way past those guards.”

“Do you think they might have magical wards on the church?”

“I'll check real quick.” Several minutes later, he replied. “No, I can't find any. I'll meet you up there.” Fred transformed into his hawk form and flew to the top where he only had to wait for a moment for Hermione to join him. They transformed back and Fred slowly opened the trapdoor after checking it for magical protections. Luckily, the door made no noise as it swung open, revealing a ladder descending into the dim interior. Hermione led the way down, followed by Fred. Despite the dim light, both youths could see fairly well and realized there were no guards inside the church walls. There were however, a great many scorch marks on the walls, indicating a particularly violent magical battle had taken place here. They moved quickly towards the center of the room and stopped, staring at the large trapdoor in front of them. Fred glanced at it quickly and began swearing very colourfully.

“Stop. Stop! That's more than enough images Fred! What's the matter—more magical wards?”

“Yeah. Strong ones. We don't have anything from our shop strong enough to break these. We'd need to use a wand. But I'm sure they have spell detecting devices set up all around here.”

“Yeah, with the Dementors gone they probably beefed up their other defenses. And now that Harry is here, I'm sure the Ministry has gone all out with defensive wards and glyphs.” Hermione added a few more colourful words that nearly made Fred blush.

“So how did Harry get in?”

“It's pretty difficult to block his teleporting ability. It can be done, but the counterspell is rarely if ever used. It's probably in place now, but I doubt it was before. There would have been no need a couple of months ago.”

“So how are we going to get in?”

“I don't know. I'm working on it.”

A squeak from the far corner caused both of them to jump.

“I hate rats!” thought Hermione, thinking of Wormtail.

“I'll be right back.” A moment later she heard a small thud. “OK, here's the plan Hermione. There's a pair of gloves inside of your bag. On the back of one of the gloves will be a small pouch with a pill in it. They're part of our Wallcrawling Gear. You need to swallow the pill first—it reduces your weight by ninety percent and keeps you from getting headaches or nauseous for one hour.”

“What?”

“Just listen. Once you take the pill, then put on the gloves. Clap them together softly twice and then rub the palms together. Then rub the soles of your shoes. The soles of your feet and your palms will then stick to any surface—so don't touch anything but a solid wall, otherwise you won't be able to let go. You won't weigh enough to break the grip and your reduced weight will not make you tired when you climb. But with your muscle strength, you will be able to break the magical hold long enough to move your hands and feet.”

“But why would I get a headache or sick to my stomach?”

“Have you ever walked upside down on a ceiling before? Believe me, two minutes after the blood rush to your head, you'll be getting a thumping good migraine.”

“OK, fine. How is this going to help us get past the trap door?”

“Trust me. When I drop our new little friend Scabbers Jr. here on top of the trap door and set off all their magical alarms, there will be guards coming from inside and outside the prison to check. Especially if they think it might be some sort of jailbreak for Harry. Now that's a pretty big door—it had to be to let in someone the size of Hagrid. They'll be using the ladders. We will be crawling by them on the walls.”

“Brilliant Fred. I knew there was a reason I invited you.”

“Yes, well, you did mention that I had been preparing for this moment for years.”

“And how are we going to get back out?”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose we could always wait until they change guards for the new shift.”

“If this works out Fred, I swear I won't confiscate any prohibited items from your shop that I happen to find at Hogwarts for an entire month.”

“Four weeks, eh? That's it?”

“Come on. Let's get going.” Hermione tied back her hair into a tight ponytail, pulled out the gloves, swallowed the pill, and then followed Fred's instructions with the gloves and shoes. Fred swallowed the pill, put on the gloves, picked up the rat, tossed it into the middle of the trapdoor and then they both waited for all hell to break loose. Which it promptly did. Lights flashed and whistles screamed as a dozen guards ran into the chapel. They both stepped back, so that none of the guards would bump into them and Fred quickly rubbed his gloves and shoes to activate their magic. The guards stood in a large circle around the trapdoor, facing outward, looking for what had triggered the alarm. One finally walked over to the trapdoor and saw the stunned rat laying on top. He rapped his knuckles in an odd pattern and the trapdoor swung open.

“Now!” hissed Fred and they both moved quickly to slide past the guards and down the tunnel. As they crawled swiftly but silently past the two guards conversing, they could hear the explanation being given.

“False alarm. Just a stupid rat walking across the top, setting off the alarms.”

“Well, get rid of the bloody thing. And stay sharp. I'm sure there are a lot of Potter sympathizers that just hate the idea of him being locked up in Azkaban. And you know what'll happen to us if he somehow escapes.”

“Come on Hermione, hexing him is not going to help Harry. Let's go get the proof we need to set him free.”

Angrily, Hermione followed. When they reached the bottom, they were surprised and happy at the size of the tunnels. It would be fairly easy for them to stay out of the way of any patrols that might happen by. They easily walked past another half dozen guards in the hallway who were looking up anxiously at the trapdoor by crawling sideways on the wall. Once past them, Fred seemed perfectly happy to walk upside down on the ceiling, but Hermione insisted on walking on the floor like a normal human being. She tried to explain why to Fred. “Harry showed me how to get to Malfoy's cell, but I have to see the tunnels right side up, like he did. It's too confusing any other way.”

Four levels down and thirty minutes later, Hermione knew she had found the right cell though it didn't match exactly with the memory Harry had shared with her. The hallway outside the cell now boasted numerous chips and craters from what appeared to have been another massive battle. “This is it. Do you have something to open the door?”

In response, Fred grabbed one of the iron bars with his hand, then slipped his hand from the glove. Hermione was surprised when the glove holding onto the metal bar of the door suddenly appeared out of thin air. Meanwhile, Fred was rummaging in his pack for a knife. With a click the blade opened and he slid it into the lock and then twisted. There was another click and then he pushed the door open. He then put his hand back in the glove and it disappeared. He stepped into the room, followed by Hermione.

The only piece of furniture, a bed with two thin blankets was tossed against one wall, broken in several pieces with the bedding in shreds. There were several scorch marks on the wall as well, but not as many as outside. Hermione immediately looked up into the corner and saw nothing.

“It should be up in that corner, Fred. Be careful.” Fred climbed the wall up to the corner and whispered, “Mischief managed.” A small box with a round globe attached to the front appeared in the corner. He placed a glove on the wall, removed his hand, and gingerly reached over and detached the box from the wall and placed it very carefully in his pack. He then heard voices and footsteps from down the hall and thought desperately to Hermione, “Quick! Close the door and climb up one of the walls. NOW!”

She did as she was told while he put his hand back in his glove and climbed to the ceiling. There was a light click as the door shut and locked and then Hermione climbed the wall.

The footsteps gained speed as the voices increased in volume.

“I'm telling you, I heard something,” insisted one voice.

“Fine, we'll go look, but we must insist on being taken to Harry immediately. We are supposed to relieve my father and Professor Snape on guard.”

“Yes, yes, we know. Dumbledore's precious Order of the Phoenix. I don't see why you need to be here as well. We can handle the situation after all. We are Aurors from the Ministry.”

“Of course. But it never hurts to be too careful,”

“Fine, then. But I'm telling you I heard a noise. And…this was Lucious Malfoy's cell! I thought I heard someone closing the door! Someone is trying to…”

“Calm down. If there was somebody, they are either still in the room, in which case they have locked themselves back in. And without a spell, which would trigger the alarms, they're not getting back out. If they are not in the room, they could have either gone away from us or come towards us. Since nobody came towards us, they must have gone away. Where does this tunnel lead? Is there another exit?”

“This tunnel only goes deeper into the dungeon. There is no other exit except through the trapdoor. But maybe they're invisible or hiding in the room. We need to check it.” He then unlocked the door and jumped wildly into the room, pointing his wand around violently. Hermione bit her lip as she saw another guard follow him in, and then Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley enter the room.

“Accio Invisibility Cloak!” Hermione was silently grateful that she had not brought Harry's cloak with her. The other guard shouted “Revelo!” several times pointing at various areas of the room.

When one of the spells ricocheted and nearly hit Lupin, he snarled, “Enough! Obviously, there is nobody in here or you would have found them by now. Besides, if there were anyone here, I would have sensed it. I am a werewolf, you know.” He smiled thinly as the faces of the two guards whitened considerably. “Now why don't you take us to where Harry is being held?”

The four then left the room and closed the door behind them. Fred and Hermione waited for several minutes and then climbed back down to the floor.

“Whew! That was close.”

“Tell me about it. Did you get the Eye of Sauron? Is it okay?”

“It looks fine. But we won't really know until we get it back home for sure. Let's go.”

As Hermione opened the door, she saw a wand pointing right at her. She stepped backward immediately as the wizard advanced angrily into the room.

-->

“What the hell do the two of you think you're doing here? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just stun the pair of you and leave you here in this cell. Do you really think you can break Harry out of Azkaban? If you get caught, do you think Harry will have a chance at his trial? I can see the headlines now—Friends of Innocent Boy-Who-Lived Caught Trying to Break Him Out of Azkaban. I'm sure your old friend Rita would have a field day with this, Hermione! I thought you had better sense than this. Of all the foolish, shortsighted ideas I've seen I never…”hissed Remus as he stepped into the cell and glared angrily at the two of them.

“Professor. It's not what you think,” whispered Hermione. “We just came to gather some evidence that might help Harry.”

“Don't you think the Aurors have already done that? And even if you do find something, it's not like you would be able to present it at the trial. They'll simply claim you manufactured it. All you've done is risk Harry's life!”

“If I thought this might make matters any worse, I wouldn't have done it!” hissed Hermione. “You are doing what you need to do to keep Harry safe here in Azkaban. I'm sure Dumbledore is doing what he can through the Ministry. But I'll be damned if I'm going to sit back and not do anything to help if there is the slightest thing I can do that might help Harry. I'm going to do it. He would do the same for me if I had been chucked into this hellhole! And if you think the Ministry under Fudge is going to be fair to Harry, you're a fool. You weren't there at the trial. You didn't see Fudge. He wants to destroy Harry.”

“Hermione, now listen…” protested Remus, raising his hands slightly in defense.

“No, you listen. Harry was set up, he was framed. I can't prove it yet, but I know that's what happened. And the Ministry is somehow involved—I'm sure Fudge is involved. If Harry is going to get out of Azkaban, we're going to have to do it.”

“Hermione, you'll never be able to break him out of here. There are too many guards, too many protections on this prison. Even if you did, Harry and everyone who helped him escape would become fugitives, you'd never…”

“So we'd be better off letting him rot in Azkaban? Don't you dare tell me what is possible and what is impossible. Sirius found a way out didn't he? We didn't come here tonight to break him out—we're going to try all of our other options first. But I guarantee you Harry is not going to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban—not while I'm alive. Now you can either help us get out of here or you can keep lecturing us until another guard passes by and catches us.”

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his thick, graying hair. “Now I've got to catch up with the other group before they get suspicious. I told them I had dropped a pouch back here somewhere. But I need to get down to Harry's cell and replace Snape and Arthur on guard duty. If you two have got what you came for, head back up to the trapdoor. I'll tell Arthur to hold the door open long enough for you two to slip out. I don't know how on earth you got in here in the first place, but be careful getting back out.”

“Uhh, Professor, how did you know we were here?”

“I could smell you Fred. I'm a werewolf, remember? Now be very careful, both of you. We'll finish discussing this later.” Remus turned and moved deeper into the dungeon as Hermione and Fred headed back the way they had come earlier.

Ten minutes later, they were crouching on the ceiling above the assembled guards waiting for Snape and Arthur to arrive. Another ten minutes and they heard the snarling comments of their Potions instructor.

“What sorts of idiots do they have running the Ministry now? Do they really think Potter is the new Dark Lord? And Fudge, what an incompetent fool. Anyone with a brain half the size of a flobberworm would realize this is all some sort of set up. Obviously, there were a few Dark Wizards who didn't heed their master's call when he was defeated and they're trying to exact revenge on Potter for his defeat.”

Arthur and Snape soon came into view. Snape's tone became even surlier when he saw the guards at the bottom of the stairs. “And you bunch of imbeciles—out of our way! Spineless, bureaucratic, boot-licking toadies mindlessly following the orders of your supposed superiors.”

“Now Severus,” began Arthur, trying to calm down Snape.

Snape's eyes flashed and the guards stepped back, but they shot hateful looks at Snape as he passed.

“Snape, they're just doing their job. They're not the ones responsible for Harry's incarceration. It does no good to take out your frustration on them.”

“Oh, stuff it Weasley. I'm tired of discussing this with you. With any luck, I'll have a different partner tomorrow.”

Hermione and Fred stifled laughs as Arthur rolled his eyes and began climbing the ladder behind Snape.

“Let's go,” urged Hermione. Arthur stopped at the top of the ladder, looking around the church for a few moments.

“Oh, come on Weasley. Let's get out of this miserable hole. You can do your sightseeing later with somebody else.” By then, Hermione had climbed out and was headed for the bell tower.

“And keep your hands off of me, Weasley. I'm not your mate, so don't go around patting me on the back,” snarled Snape.

A few minutes later, both Hermione and Fred were flying over the back wall of the prison towards the hidden Firebolt.

“To cancel the effects of the sticking charms on the boots and gloves, rub the top of your shoes with the back of your hands, and then rub the backs of your hands together.”

Hermione did as instructed, and then watched as Fred picked up Harry's broom. “You coming?”

“No, I'll just fly thank you. I'll meet you on the shore.” Fred beat her to the shore easily, and waited by the tree for her to arrive. A moment later they Apparated back to the Weasley's shop. Fred went into the back and came back with a large box with a cone on one edge. He nodded and they Apparated back to the Burrow.

“Where have the two of you been?! I've been going out of my mind! Why have you been under threat of immediate arrest and in mortal danger for the past two hours! And nobody has seen you at Hogwart's Hermione. What have the two of you been up to?”

Hermione scanned the room quickly. Arthur and Snape had returned. Snape and Dumbledore had stopped conversing to look at them. Charlie had been talking with Arthur but looked at them with a grin on his face. Samuel was lounging on a couch, while McGonagall was coming back into the room with a cup of tea. Ron, Ginny, and George who had still been upstairs, came halfway down the stairs when they heard Molly's voice. Everyone had frozen in place at Molly's outburst to look at Hermione and Fred.

Hermione sighed and then answered. “We've been to Azkaban.”

Pandemonium exploded in the room as everyone started talking at once. Hermione stood quietly, letting the dull roar wash over her. Fred, no stranger to lectures, stood still and managed to keep a grin off of his face.

“If you'll just let me explain…Excuse me…Listen…Please, just listen to me…” “QUIET!” Hermione stared around at the shocked faces of the adults around her. “Thank you. If you don't mind, we've already had one lecture from Remus, so I think we can skip through this part of the discussion. If you will just give Fred and me a moment, we'll explain why we went to Azkaban.”

Fred set the box with the cone on a small table. He then pulled out the smaller box he had removed from Malfoy's cell and twisted the sphere off of the end gently. He then placed the small globe into the large end of the cone. He whipped out his wand and whispered softly. The cone glowed softly and then a large silver sphere appeared in the middle of the room. As everyone looked more closely at it, the shape of a thin man in dark robes pacing back and forth and muttering incoherently became clearly visible.

“Lucious Malfoy,” hissed Arthur angrily.

“Simply amazing,” murmured Dumbledore. “A magical recording device Mr. Weasley? You and your twin have really outdone yourselves this time. Very impressive.”

“You mentioned there was a way to speed this up, Fred? If this is the beginning, this was probably from months ago, when Harry first put it in his cell. Is there a way we can watch it more quickly, without missing anything? We don't really have time to watch three or four months of that idiot talking to himself in his cell.”

“Yeah, let me try this.” He waved his wand again and uttered another incantation. The figure in the glowing sphere sped up. The audience watched entranced for several minutes until Lucious curled up on his bed, apparently to sleep for the night. Half an hour later, Snape stood and stretched.

“Fascinating as this is, Miss Granger, I fail to see why this justified the risk of entering Azkaban…”

“Well, it might not be as gratifying as cursing the guards in Azkaban, but I think it might prove more helpful,” retorted Hermione.

With an angry glance, Snape muttered, “Arrogant Gryffindors, always think…” and then stopped as his black robe changed colours to a brilliant red and gold. A large lion's head appeared as a hat on top of his head which began roaring loudly. Furious, Snape drew his wand and it seemed to change form into a large triangular pennant with a golden G emblazoned on a scarlet field. His mouth opened but no sound came out as his scowl deepened. Then with a loud pop, he simply disappeared. The room then shook with suppressed laughter. Five minutes later, McGonagall and the others were still holding their sides and wiping the tears from their eyes while the twins were swapping high fives with Ron.

Still gasping for breath, McGonagall struggled to speak. “Oh, what I wouldn't give for a wizard picture of that.”

The twins looked at each other and grinned mischievously while Dumbledore smiled. “That would make a rather marvelous Christmas gift, would it not Minerva? Better than socks I believe.”

“Don't worry, Professor. That was just one of the early prototypes,” consoled Fred.

“We've got a few other models we're developing, specifically with Snape and the Slytherins in mind.”

“I do believe I have gone temporarily deaf, Minerva. Did you hear anything?”

She shook her head and replied, “Why no, Albus, I don't believe I did.”

Hermione had regained her composure by then and was glad the tense mood had lightened considerably. She then returned her full attention to the sphere and the rapidly moving figure within it.

--

It was now nearly five in the morning and Hermione's eyelids felt scratchy and raw. Fred had explained to her the various commands for running the viewer before he went to bed. Only Molly, Dumbledore, and Hermione herself remained awake watching. Everyone else had gone to bed out of exhaustion or because they needed to take a shift guarding Harry at Azkaban.

Then, for the first time in hours, there was a second figure beside Lucious Malfoy. Hermione sprang from the couch with her wand and halted the picture. She then played it over from the beginning and tapped the box lightly with her wand. The three watched closely for several minutes.

“Ahh, Cornelius. You valued too greatly the glory of your office. Only a desperate fool would ally himself with Lucius Malfoy.”

They watched the scene several more times and then resumed watching it quickly. Molly left for a few minutes and then returned with warm cocoa as Dumbledore and Hermione watched the monotonous scenes repeat themselves over and over. Ten minutes later, Hermione slowed it down again so that they could watch a pair of visitors enter Malfoy's cell to speak with him again. Several minutes later, the three sat horrified as the frozen images hovered above them. Cornelius Fudge and a guard from Azkaban stood looking down at the body of Lucius Malfoy.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke. “You and George have succeeded beyond our wildest expectations, Hermione. We now know what happened and can act accordingly.”

“But the court will never accept this evidence will they? Especially if uh—Fudge is running the show…” asked Molly nervously.

“No. Even if the Minister was not involved, I do not think the court would accept this evidence. No, if we are to save Harry, we will have to do it ourselves. But for now, we must all get some rest. Things will be much clearer this afternoon. Molly, we will meet with the other members of the Order here at two o'clock this afternoon, if that is acceptable with you.”

“Of course, Albus. Anytime is fine. I'll let everyone know.”

Hermione stood angrily, “I think we should be able to attend as well. You can't keep…”

Molly turned to her. “Now Hermione, you need to…”

“Actually, I agree with Miss Granger, Molly. This is not an official meeting of the Order. Besides, I believe Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, and your own children have more than proven their worth. They have accomplished things few witches or wizards would even dream to attempt. And I, for one, would certainly welcome any suggestions they may have.” His eyes sparkled merrily as he gazed at Hermione.

Blushing, Hermione whispered, “Thank you, sir.”

Molly sighed heavily. “I suppose you're right, Albus. It's just that…”

“I understand Molly. It is very difficult to watch your children grow up. I see that happen every year and it is very difficult for me to let go sometimes. But we must, Molly.” He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and whispered very quietly. “Please make sure Hermione gets some rest. She needs it more than the rest of us.”

Molly nodded and Dumbledore left with a loud pop. She turned and saw Hermione staring again at the final scene hanging suspended in midair.

“Come dear, we need to get some rest if we're going to be of any use at the meeting later today.”

“I'm sorry, Molly, but I just can't sleep right now. I have too much to think about and to start planning right now. Harry needs me and I can't let him down.”

“You've done more than enough for today, dear. I've got something in the kitchen that can help you sleep. You'll be able to help Harry better if you've gotten some rest first.”

“Do you really think we'll be able to help him. I—I thought he was in a bad spot before, but now…I don't see how we're going to get him out of this mess this time. I…I…”

As Hermione's head bowed and her shoulders started shaking, Molly gave her the kind of comforting hug that only a mother can give.

“It's going to be okay, Hermione, I promise. We've got some of the best minds in the wizarding world working out a way to save Harry. Don't you worry, we'll come up with something.” She then gently led Hermione into the kitchen after she turned off the viewer box, gave her a mild sleeping potion, and then helped her upstairs to bed. Molly sat with her, talking to her and comforting her until she finally fell asleep.

--

Arthur scowled as he read the headlines of the Daily Prophet. “Boy-Who-Lived Finally Gone Mad! Goes Berserk at Azkaban and Murders Helpless Guards and Inmates! Will Stand Trial Next Week.” Below the glaring headlines were several photos of Harry looking wild and unfocused as he was held in the strong grip of several Aurors from the Ministry. A photo of a sad Minister Fudge, gravely shaking his head sat atop a lengthy interview in which he discussed his long held reservations about Harry Potter's sanity and his deep sadness at the terrible turn his life has taken. Snarling, he crumpled up the paper and threw it towards the fire.

“Dad! I wanted to read the comics!” exclaimed Fred, walking in the door to the kitchen.

“And I needed to read my horoscope,” complained George, following closely on his twin's heels.

“Rubbish! It's full of rubbish! I don't know why we keep subscribing to that paper!”

“Well, maybe this paper is a little more balanced,” smirked Ginny, as she tossed another paper down in front of her father as she went to get a couple of bowls and spoons.

“The Quibbler? Well I suppose if I want to learn about some odd…What is this?” He then read aloud the headline for everyone's benefit. “Harry Potter Unjustly and Illegally Persecuted by Obsessed Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and Overzealous Ministry.” He then read the opening paragraphs from the front page story.

“Harry Potter was lured yesterday into the Ministry of Magic under false pretenses and arrested and charged with multiple murders that apparently occurred two days ago at Azkaban Prison. Mr. Potter had been invited to simply provide additional information about the tragic death of one of his classmates from Hogwarts, Katie Bell, for a small group of Aurors and Ministry officials.

Instead he and another classmate, Hermione Granger, who had also been attacked by the same person who murdered Miss Bell, were interrogated ruthlessly by Silus Grimaldi on behalf of the Ministry in front of the entire assembled Wizengamot. Normally the Wizengamot is only convened for a trial, and any questioning in an informational proceeding is handled by an Auror from the Ministry, not a private lawyer whose most recent case involved the defense of convicted Death Eater Lucious Malfoy. Apparently Minister Fudge specifically approved of all these illegal irregularities, citing special conditions and his own authority as Minister of Magic.

Far from a simple informational hearing, it quickly dissolved into a series of threats and insinuations aimed at both Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. At the end of this illegal Inquisition, Harry Potter was accused of the multiple murders that occurred at Azkaban Prison, specifically the murder of Lucious Malfoy and the twenty-three other Death Eaters who had been incarcerated there, as well as a dozen guards who had tried to stop the attack. One guard survived, who claimed he saw Harry Potter as the sole attacker. While Hermione Granger provided evidence that would give Mr. Potter an alibi for the time at which the attack occurred, because she is not yet seventeen, Minister Fudge ruled that her testimony would be inadmissible at the trial next week.

Making his defense even more difficult, Minister Fudge ordered Harry Potter to be stunned with several Stupefy charms following his indictment of Mr. Potter, and furthermore instructed that Mr. Potter be kept sedated twenty four hours a day until the time of his trial next week. Needless to say, it will be quite impossible for Mr. Potter to consult with legal counsel or prepare in any way for his defense. Minister Fudge explained that these extreme measures were necessary, given the possibility that Harry Potter, the only wizard powerful enough to defeat Lord Voldemort, might try to escape.

For a full and exclusive transcript of the complete hearing, including the testimony of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, as well as the questions asked and comments from the Wizengamot, please continue reading below.”

By the side of the article on the front page was a large picture of a tired Harry leaning heavily upon Arthur for support leaving the courtroom, surrounded by several angry looking guards.

Arthur scanned the next dozen pages quickly and then whistled softly. “I don't know which member of the Wizengamot leaked this, supposedly these are closed hearings, but if Fudge ever finds out, he'll have their head. If even half of these statements are true, it makes him and the Ministry look very, very bad.” He then raised his head and smiled very widely. “I think this day just got very good all of a sudden. Who wrote this? Walgine I. Raiveys. Well, I would certainly like to meet this Mr. Raiveys. Hmm. I've never heard of him before, but he's done a marvelous job of reporting here. This should counter some of the other rubbish that's bound to come out and make people think.”

Molly finally woke up around noon, to the teasing of her children. She made a quick lunch of sandwiches and while the rest of the family was eating, went upstairs to wake up Hermione. Half an hour later Hermione joined the rest of the family for lunch. She sat next to Ginny and they took turns looking through the Quibbler article.

Ten minutes before two, members from the Order began showing up. The twins and Ron looked around with growing dissatisfaction while Hermione simply grinned but kept silent.

When Dumbledore arrived, he stepped into the kitchen and invited everyone into the living room.

“I suppose it's upstairs for the lot of us,” grumbled Ron, expressing the sentiments of his brothers as well.

“Only if you do not wish to join us,” replied Dumbledore with a sparkle in his eyes.

“What?!”

“You mean”

“we can attend”

“as members of the Order?” finished George.

“Not as official members, no. But then this is an unofficial meeting and you are all welcome to join us in our discussion.”

Raising her eyes slowly, Ginny asked, “Me too?”

“You have made valuable contributions as well, Miss Weasley. Of course you are invited.” Ginny couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw him grin momentarily as he saw the paper on the table. “Ahh, the Quibbler. They have the most interesting stories in that paper. And I found the issue from today to be particularly informative. It never ceases to amaze me how the truth eventually comes out, despite attempts to keep things secret and hidden. I imagine the Ministry must be scrambling today, trying to figure out how this transcript got out despite the oaths of secrecy the members of the Wizengamot take.”

“I've been wondering about that myself, Albus. How did it get out—I mean, even you would have been bound by your wizard's oath so who…” Arthur's eyes flashed to Hermione as she slowly stood and avoided his eyes. She excused herself and went into the living room, followed closely by Ginny. Arthur smiled and then looked at Dumbledore. “Shall we go then?”

“After you Arthur.”

Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and the Weasley twins were the youngest in the room. Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall, Samuel, and Remus were there, as well as Arthur, Molly and Bill.

“Looks like Charlie got stuck with Snape today,” snickered Fred.

“Poor Snape,” joked George. “He's going to learn an awful lot about dragons today I imagine.”

“He'll probably want Dad back as a partner,” chuckled Fred.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. Miss Granger and Mr. Fred Weasley, taking an extraordinary risk which I hope will not be repeated, have managed to uncover some critical information which may help Harry. We will look at what they have discovered and then discuss how we can use this to help clear Harry of the false charges which have been brought against him.

Hermione activated the viewer again, and for the next fifteen minutes, everyone watched silently, trying to make sense of the images in front of them. After it was over, Hermione sat back as discussion erupted around her. Many of the comments were aimed at Dumbledore, who replied thoughtfully to several of them. Lupin was pacing rapidly, deep in thought, while Samuel discussed increasingly wild schemes with Ron and the twins. The remaining professors and the Weasley parents were having a heated debate, punctuated by Hagrid's calls to thump the whole lot of `em. Ginny drifted from group to group, listening quietly. Meanwhile, Hermione continued to think by herself, largely ignoring the rest of the loud group.

“I don't think there's much we can do,” she finally announced. The chatter halted, and many heads turned to look at Hermione incredulously. “First of all, this evidence would be completely inadmissible in any court of law. Second, we know that the Ministry and Fudge are going to continue doing everything in their power to prevent Harry from mounting any kind of effective defense. The whole informational session was simply a trap for Harry. Now that they've got him, they're never going to let him go. They'll make sure of that.”

“So what are you saying? That we just give up? We know what happened now. We know Harry didn't do it. We've got the proof right there in front of us, Hermione!” exploded Ron.

“Of course I don't want to give up. But there's not much we can do about it, is there? No, Harry's going to have to get himself out of this one.”

“And just how is he supposed to do that? He doesn't even know about any of this. And besides, they're keeping him so drugged up he probably can't even think straight.”

“Right. That's why I've got to go back to Azkaban for a little visit with him.”

A chorus of protests broke out at her statement. “Miss Granger, I believe you have done more than enough already. It would simply too dangerous for you to return Azkaban again.”

“Who else has a chance of pulling Harry out of his drugged up state? Last time I checked, I was the only one with telepathic powers in the room.”

“Miss Granger, I may be able to reach Mr. Potter, with a little help from an old acquaintance of mine.” Dumbledore looked directly at Hermione and her eyes widened slightly as she realized who he was talking about.

“Perhaps, but I still think the best chance would be for me to go.”

“I do not believe that would be the best course to follow. It would be too risky to attempt again. You and Fred managed to do it once, but there is no need to risk it again. Do you understand?”

Her eyes glinting dangerously, Hermione nodded and replied coldly, “Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good. I will continue working on the other possible means for his release that I have been pursuing. I will make sure that I take a turn in the guard rotation the day before the trial so that I can visit with Harry and share the recent discovery we have made. Hopefully, the two of us can then come up with a way of confronting the Minister that will prove Harry's innocence. I wish there were other tasks that we could preoccupy ourselves with over the next week, but I agree with Miss Granger. I am afraid there is little more that we can do for him at the present moment, beyond ensuring his safety in Azkaban.” Looking around the room, Dumbledore got up and then flooed back to Hogwarts, followed by the other Professors.

Hermione sat back down, grinding her teeth in frustration.

“Saldar, do you really think you can help Dumbledore reach Harry?”

“Yes Mistress Granger, I believe so.”

“You believe so? You don't know for sure?”

“Well, none canst know for sure about such things.”

“That's what I thought. And the last time you tried something like this, it was actually Harry, not you, that actually found me, right?”

“Yes, Mistress Granger. Thou knowest that he found thee.”

“As one of the current bearers of the Sword of Gryffindor, if I asked you to keep a secret, you would, wouldn't you?”

“Of course. Why, have I done something wrong? Have I somehow offended thee?”

“No, no. I was just checking. And if I asked you to keep a secret from Dumbledore, you would respect that, right?”

“As one of the current wielders of the sword, my only duty lies in thy service. But what secret dost thou mean? Thou hast said nothing of…no Mistress Granger! Do not do it! I beg of thee! Master Dumbledore said…”

“I know what he said. But Harry has to know what happened. So not a word of this to Dumbledore. Understand?”

“Of course mistress. I understand and obey.”

“Good.” She looked around and realized that she was the only one left in the living room. Everyone else had wandered out.

“Fred!” she called out sweetly. “Bring George back in here. I'd like to talk to the two of you please.”

--

During the week before Harry's trial, there was a virtual newspaper war over differing opinions of Harry Potter. The Daily Prophet continued to portray Harry Potter as a power tripping wizard unrestrained by the rule of law and now mentally unstable due to his horrific life. The Quibbler, on the other hand, led by its new and extremely popular reporter Walgine I. Raiveys, launched increasingly powerful and persuasive attacks on the Ministry. Sales for both papers set new records, and both sold out multiple editions every day.

Debate among witches and wizards in places like Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley were becomingly increasingly fierce as well, and several times had resulted in fistfights and wizard duels breaking out. The atmosphere at the Burrow was increasingly tense as well as Harry's trial date approached. Professors and members of the Order frequently stopped by, but as the week wore on, many of the Weasley siblings spent much of their time outdoors on broomsticks. Hermione spent much of her time with either Ginny or the twins, but after the third heated argument with Ron, one in which several spells were exchanged, they did their best to completely avoid each other. In fact, Ron spent very little time at the Burrow that week, and nobody seemed to know for sure where he was going. Both Molly and Arthur had tried to sit down and talk with him several times, with little visible result.

---

The only break in the monotony of the week came when a very young, nervous looking wizard knocked on the front door of the Burrow two days before the hearing looking for Hermione.

“I am Phillip Barnabus, and I have been asked by the Ministry to serve as the defense counsel for Mr. Potter,” he explained as he introduced himself.

Hermione escorted him into the living room and they sat down to talk.

“I thought that Dumbledore had arranged for Mr. Quimbly to handle Harry's defense.”

“Yes, well, the Minister rejected his offer on account that Mr. Potter himself has to ask Mr. Quimbly to serve as his legal counsel, now that he is an adult wizard.”

“I don't mean to be rude, but you seem awfully young to be on such an important case.”

“I completely agree, Miss Granger,” he replied, looking around uneasily at the rest of the Weasley clan who were watching him quietly. “To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure why they asked me to do it. I'm not really trained in court trials or criminal defense. I mean…not to say that Mr. Potter is a criminal or anything,” he hastily corrected seeing the dark glares from the Weasleys surrounding him. “My specialty is in registering and defending spell and potion patents.”

“Oh, I think I see,” muttered Hermione. “Well, I'd be glad to help in any way I can, but I didn't think that my testimony would be allowed in court.”

“Well, technically, it will not. I'm still trying to find a way around that.”

“Right. Well let me tell you what happened, and then you can ask me any questions if you have any after I'm done.” Five minutes later, Hermione had finished and Mr. Barnabus had left, thanking Hermione for her time.

“That's Harry's counsel, huh?” remarked Fred.

“Doesn't exactly inspire confidence, does he?” retorted George.

“Yeah, I think we can officially write off any hope Harry might have had getting off through the legal system,” added Hermione in a bitter voice.

---

The day before Harry's trial finally arrived and Samuel and Dumbledore stopped at the Burrow before they headed to Azkaban to watch over Harry.

“Where is Miss Granger? I need to speak with her for a moment,” stated Dumbledore, looking around the living room.

“She wasn't feeling well this morning, Professor. But she said she needed to give you this,” answered Ginny as she handed Dumbledore a small envelope with something inside. He opened it briefly and saw what appeared to be a torn belt loop.

“Ahh, very well. Thank you Miss Weasley. I hope Miss Granger is feeling better by tomorrow.”

“Really?” asked Molly. “I could have sworn I saw her downstairs earlier this morning.”

“No mum. That was probably me. I couldn't sleep very well earlier and got up to walk around for a bit.”

“Oh,” replied Molly, but looked oddly at Ginny.

Dumbledore put the envelope in his pocket and turned to Samuel. “Ready, Samuel? We should go, it would not do for us to be late.”

Samuel nodded and then winked at the twins before he reached out to grasp the skeleton key Dumbledore was holding which served as a portkey to Azkaban island.

Five minutes after they left, a disheveled and distraught Samuel appeared in the fireplace of the Burrow. “Where's Dumbledore?”

Molly ran in from the kitchen and shouted in horror. “They just left a few minutes ago, but you were just with him. But how…” She then whipped out her wand and aimed it right at his chest. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” Ginny, Ron, the twins, and Arthur had either come down the stairs or entered the living room from the kitchen by then and Arthur and Ron snatched out their wands out as well.

Raising his hands in protest Samuel tried to explain, “Wait, wait. It's me. I've still got the bruises from the Birthday Quidditch match to prove it if you want. But if I've already left…”

“Then who is with Dumbledore impersonating you?” exclaimed Arthur.

“We've got to warn Dumbledore!” shrieked Molly.

“Everyone wait!” Looking at his twin, Fred gulped and continued. “There's no need to be alarmed. Hermione went with Dumbledore.”

“She what?!” exploded both Arthur and Molly.

“And just how did she do that, may I ask?” insisted Molly, glaring dangerously at the twins.

“Polyjuice potion?” suggested Fred as his mother stalked towards the two.

“That's impossible! It takes over a month to create. How could she have possibly…”

“Well, we didn't say she made it herself, Mum,” answered George.

“You two wouldn't happen to know how she acquired it, would you?”

“Uhh, do you really want to know that mum?”

“Or is that one of those rhetorical questions?”

Molly had just about reached the twins when Ginny snapped. “Oh, Mum! It's not their fault. It was Hermione's idea to begin with.”

“What?! Ginny! My baby! You knew?! How could you let Hermione go off and do something like…”

“Listen, mum. I hate to be the one that has to break this to you, but you adults don't always know what's best. Not even Dumbledore. If Fred and Hermione hadn't gone to Azkaban, we would have never known what really happened there. And Harry wouldn't have a chance tomorrow. Now maybe Dumbledore can help Harry. But if he can't, then Hermione will be there to try and help as well.

Look, we're sick and tired of getting treated like children all the time. Even though seventeen is the official age of adulthood, there were fifteen and sixteen year old students from Hogwarts who fought as bravely as wizards and witches twice their age. Fred and George, as well as Bill and Charlie fought at the final battle against Voldemort and his army. Ron fought a dragon and has the scar to prove it. He also stood by Hermione to help Harry bring down Voldemort—and all three of them were only sixteen. Hermione is probably the only one who can remember all of the dangers Harry has faced and overcome since he was eleven. And I have survived being possessed by Voldemort twice. We are not little children anymore.

We were finally invited in to participate with the adults of the Order and then our ideas were largely ignored. Look, I know we're not perfect or infallible. Rushing off to rescue Sirius probably wasn't the best idea. But we did the best we could with the information we had. And it was adults at the Ministry and at Hogwarts who put us in that situation to begin with. And the DA was a huge success. I know it saved a lot of lives when the war came to Hogwarts. And I know it enabled a lot of students to survive the final battle against Voldemort. When are we going to get the respect that we deserve?”

Molly simply looked stunned as she listened to her youngest daughter.

“Now Samuel has to stay here. If he goes to Azkaban now, it will mess up everything. Don't worry, Mum, Hermione has enough Polyjuice potion to make it through the entire shift with Dumbledore.”

With tears running down her eyes as she looked at her children, Molly saw them in a new light and it was very difficult for to believe it. She felt overjoyed at seeing the young adults in front of her, but there was a part of her that felt very sad as well, a part that wanted them to stay young and at home under her care forever. She hugged Ginny fiercely, whispering, “I love you.” As the twins and Ron came closer, she opened her arms to all of them. “I love all of you and I'm so proud of all that you've done. Of course, I'm still upset with you, but I still love you anyways.”

“And that is exactly why I don't have any children. They never listen, they're constantly getting into trouble, they've got no respect for their elders, and they tend to get mouthy, especially the girls,” muttered Samuel dryly as he left the Weasley family hugging in the living room and stepped into the kitchen.

-->

Hermione followed Dumbledore through the gates of Azkaban once they caught their balance from the portkey. The guards led them through the courtyard into the abandoned church and opened the trapdoor for them. Two of the guards then walked with them through the tunnels until they reached Harry's cell. She had given only one word responses to Dumbledore's attempts at conversation, thinking the less she said, the easier it might be to pull off the charade. As they approached Harry's cell, she tried to steel herself in anticipation of what she might see.

When she entered, she saw Snape and Bill Weasley on one side of the room, two other guards inside the room in addition to two guards standing outside the room. Obviously the Ministry was taking no chances. What almost broke her heart was the sight of Harry laying on the bed, occasionally thrashing around on the bed, as if he couldn't find a comfortable position or relax into a deep slumber. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to resist the impulse to run to his side and cradle him in her arms and try to comfort him. Instead, she stepped to the side of the door and quietly gritted her teeth. Bill rose tiredly to his feet and walked over to Dumbledore. Snape simply glared daggers at her, which she felt more than happy to return.

As he walked past her he snarled, “Bloody Yank!”

She replied with equal viciousness, “Slimey Brit!” Snape ignored her and went to stand in the hallway. Dumbledore followed Bill into the hallway and continued chatting quietly for a moment. Harry began tossing and turning again on the bed and began to cry out as if in pain. One of the guards moved closer to the bed and raised his hand as if to slap him when he froze in place.

Hermione's wand was digging a painful little hole in the side of his neck, right behind his jaw. “You lay one filthy paw on Harry, and I swear it will be the last thing you do in this world.” When she caught movement from the other guard out of the corner of her eye she roared, “Back off! Unless you want to read your friend's mind all over the wall over there then back off. Now!”

“Samuel! Samuel!” It took a moment for Hermione to realize that someone was yelling at her. She turned her head slightly only to realize that Dumbledore was yelling at her. “What are you doing?”

“I was just chatting with the guards about the proper treatment of defenseless prisoners. These two were just about to offer to switch places with the two standing guard outside the door.” She then turned back to the guards and hissed in a quiet voice full of deadly menace. “Now go. Both of you. If I see either of you in here again it will be your last shift.”

The guard who had been the immediate target of her wand went quickly and quietly for the door. His companion, showing a bit more bluster and considerably less wisdom, tried to protest. “Who do you think you are ordering us around? We're Aurors for the Ministry!”

“More like trolls from the Goon Squad. Since when is it Ministry policy to beat on defenseless prisoners? Tell you what, you don't like the way I've handled the situation, why don't you file a complaint. Now get out of here.”

The guard made one final attempt to salvage his pride by glaring ferociously at Hermione, only to quickly look away from the barely controlled rage he saw in her eyes. He quickly left the room in search of his companion.

Dumbledore's hand on her shoulder helped her calm herself down after the confrontation. “I did not know you felt so strongly about Harry's safety, Samuel.”

“Uh, yes, well they were going to hit him while he was sleeping. I couldn't let them do that. Uh, even if the boy is nothing but trouble.”

“Well, if your little show is over now, Hunt, I think I will be heading home now,” sneered Snape.

“Yeah, why don't you run along home to your nice, cozy dungeon, Snip. What happened to your Gryffindor robes? Are they in the wash? I loved the hat by the way.” She could see the muscles clenching and unclenching in his jaw as he fought to maintain control and then stormed out. Bill passed by and winked at her, trying to keep from laughing as he followed Snape out into the corridor.”

There was a sparkle in Dumbledore's eye as he spoke again to Samuel. “I must congratulate you on your considerable restraint, Samuel.” “The Samuel I know, provoked in such a way, would have likely fired off a spell or two, probably accompanied by several punches.”

Though Dumbledore's mouth kept moving, she wasn't sure if he had actually spoken the words or if she had simply read his mind. The look of confusion must have shown on her face, since he suddenly grinned.

“I couldn't help but notice your flask there Samuel. You wouldn't mind giving an old friend a sip, now would you?”

“Uh, it's a mild anti-congestion potion. I thought I was coming down with something, so I brought it along to keep me from getting any worse. I don't think you would want any.” “Does he suspect something? I think he does. No, he can't. Just play it cool, Hermione. You can get through this.”

“Ahh. Yes, Polyjuice potion has a very nasty taste, doesn't it, Hermione?”

Hermione sighed. “Game's up, huh?”

“Well, you did give in rather quickly last week after our discussion. You rarely do that unless you are considering an alternative plan. Samuel is usually much nastier this early in the day, he is not really much of a morning person. And he rarely misses an opportunity to toss an insult my way. Your concern for Harry and your reaction to the guards were much different from the actions Samuel would have taken. Samuel would have used his fists first instead of immediately launching veiled death threats.”

“Yeah, I overreacted a little, but he was going to hit Harry.”

“I did not say you were wrong in how you reacted. It has been a very tough week for all of us. But I must admit that you did handle Professor Snape with the appropriate lack of respect that Samuel has always had for him.”

“Look, Professor. I know you thought it was too dangerous for me to come here, but I wanted to make sure that we got through to Harry. But I, uh, I don't meant to insinuate that you couldn't help Harry, I uh…”

“Do not worry, Hermione. There is no offense taken. It has probably worked out for the best this way. Now Harry has the best possible chance for preparing himself for tomorrow. I am afraid the real danger will await you back at the Burrow in the form of Molly and Samuel.”

“Yeah, well, I'll just have to worry about that later. Should we see to helping Harry?”

“There is no time like the present. Saldar, can you assist us?”

“I believe so.”

Both Hermione and Dumbledore sat down in chairs alongside the wall and prepared to concentrate.

“Hermione, do not forget to take your potion at least once every hour. We wouldn't want you turning back while we were visiting Harry.”

“Of course not, sir.” Hermione then took a quick sip and then focused on Harry's still body lying on the bed.

--

Hermione thought of the last time she had entered Harry's mind and tried to visualize the labyrinth outside the large castle. When she opened her eyes, she discovered she was floating amidst what seemed to be clouds of constantly changing colours. “Dumbledore! Saldar!”

“Over here,” came the reply. She paused for a minute and then tried flapping her arms and nothing happened. Embarrassed, she quickly looked around her to make sure nobody had seen. She then simply focused on moving through the clouds to where she had heard the voices and soon enough she was there. She saw dimly the forms of Dumbledore and Saldar floating in the mist beside her.

“We should be looking for a labyrinth surrounding a tall castle. But it could be in any direction. I can't tell which way is up in this cloud,” she complained.

“Yes, the clouds must represent the effect of the potions they have been giving him.”

“Is there any way to counter the effects?” she asked in frustration. “We should have had Snape give him some sort of antidote.”

“That would have been very difficult to do. That is why the Ministry posted Aurors inside the cell as well. They wanted to make sure that Harry remained incapacitated while imprisoned here.”

“Do you have any ideas, Saldar?”

“Perhaps if one of you could actually place me in his possession, I might be able to help guide you to him better.”

“It's worth a try.”

Hermione went over to ask the guards about breakfast for Harry and tried to stand in their line of sight to Harry. Meanwhile, with the beltloop hidden between two of his fingers, Dumbledore pretended to straighten Harry's covers around his body and placed the loop on the side of his jeans. A few minutes later, they both returned to their seats. Hermione took another nasty sip of potion and then they returned to Harry's mind.

They found themselves once again floating aimlessly amidst the blue and purple and rose coloured clouds of Harry's subconscious. Dumbledore peered steadily and thoroughly in every direction. Hermione looked around as well, but she still couldn't sense where either Harry or Saldar were. After a few moments, Hermione gave up looking with her eyes and focused with her heart. “Please Harry. We have to find you. I know you're out there somewhere fighting this. We need to talk to you. We can help. But you have to help us find you.”

With her eyes still closed she told Dumbledore to follow her. She didn't know how long they flew, but she finally heard Dumbledore's voice beside her.

“Well done Hermione. You have done it. You can open your eyes now, the castle is right before us.”

Hermione opened her eyes and smiled at the towering battlements rising before her. On the top of one tower stood Saldar, firing spells into the air, trying to dispel the mists of colour still blocking most of the sky. She gazed towards the top of the other tower and her heart skipped a beat. There was Harry casting spells and calling upon the wind to dissipate the multihued mist.

In the blink of an eye she transformed into her owl form as she leaped from the ground and quickly flew up to Harry. She returned to her human form only to be swept up in a tight embrace and a wonderful kiss from Harry.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“Missed you more,” he replied.

“Ahem.” coughed Dumbledore rather politely. “There are a few other rather more pressing items we need to discuss right now.”

Blushing red, Hermione answered. “Right. Right. Back to business. Now pay attention Harry. You were right, the Eye of Sauron gave us the information we need to get you out of this mess. Well, it told us what happened—we haven't quite figured out a way out of it just yet. But this is what happened.”

When she had finished, Harry looked stunned. “Right, then. Let me think about this for a minute. What if I…”

At Hermione's odd expression he paused.

“I've got to go, Harry. I'll be back as soon as I can. Dumbledore can explain.” Then she simply disappeared.

Hermione blinked and quickly reached for the vial, praying neither of the guards had noticed anything. She took a sip and grimaced and then grinned. One of the guards was asleep and the other looked like he was about to doze off. Then she focused on Harry and returned to the billowing clouds. She found her way back to Harry's castle much more easily and quickly this time.

“You took Polyjuice potion to impersonate Samuel to sneak into Azkaban?!” roared Harry.

“How did you think I got close enough to enter your mind?”

“Uhh—well…”

“Besides, it was easier breaking in this time than it was when Fred and I came for the Eye of Sauron.”

“What?! I told you to have Dumbledore or Lupin do it. It was too dangerous…”

“Well apparently it wasn't, because Fred and I got out fine. And I've already had a lecture about it from Remus and don't care to hear another. Now we have more important things to do, like overcome the effects of these potions and then figure out a plan for the trial.”

“Fine,” grumbled Harry, “but we'll talk more about this later.”

“No we won't. Now let's focus on the first problem here. We need to find a way of countering the potion's effects. If we can do that, I believe Saldar can help you maintain your clarity of thought, but you will need to continue to act as if you were under the influence of the potions until the proper moment tomorrow.”

With the three of them working together, they began clearing away a large amount of the clouds, only to have new ones float in and replace them.

“This isn't working!” cried Harry in frustration looking up at the clouds drifting in.

“Perhaps another approach is needed,” mused Dumbledore thoughtfully.

Harry's face looked thoughtful for a minute. “Mione, you found your way here and back out, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“Do you think you can take something back with you?”

“Take something with me? Like what?”

Harry was down on one knee, waving his wand in large circles as a thin cord fell from the tip of his wand in a growing coil on the ground. “Go get Saldar and take him out with you. Have him take one end of the line to connect me to the outside world. I'll keep feeding you this line that will reach back to me here.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“I hope so.” Hermione summoned Saldar, who took one end of the line and followed Hermione and Dumbledore up into the sky.

When Hermione opened her eyes again, she looked over at Harry, who appeared to still be sleeping. “Harry. If you can hear me, roll over on your side.” Nothing happened and then he rolled over. “Just to make sure, kick your left leg.”

“I'm not a trained monkey, Mione. I'm fine. I feel a bit groggy and my whole body aches, but I've woken up in worse shape in the infirmary at Hogwarts.”

“Good, now we can focus on the more important problem. What do we do tomorrow at the trial with the information we have?”

“Right. Look, I've been thinking and you were right—I'm going to have to confront Fudge. And I think this is the best way to do it.”

He began explaining his plan, with Dumbledore and Hermione making occasional suggestions. They spent several hours working out details and contingencies for various situations. Finishing, he explained, “I know it's risky, but I think it will work. The truth is, I don't see many other options.”

“I agree Harry. I believe it is your best chance.” He then leaned against the back of his chair and stretched his legs in front of him.

Harry, still faking sleep on the bed, and Hermione, periodically taking sips from her flask to maintain the image of Samuel, spent the rest of the shift mindspeaking softly about a variety of things, ignoring for a brief afternoon the dangers to be faced on the morrow.

When Bill and Charlie came to replace Dumbledore and Hermione, Charlie grinned and whispered quietly to Hermione. “Bloody brilliant. I reckon mum will grouse a bit, but she's not as upset as I thought she'd be. Ginny had a few words with her early this morning. And Samuel, well I think he was more embarrassed that the twins slipped something into his drink than anything else. He didn't seem too surprised though.” He winked and kept chuckling with Bill, who flashed her a wide grin as well.

The return to the Burrow wasn't nearly as bad as Hermione had feared. Samuel was not there, and Molly simply looked at her kind of sadly and gave her a big hug rather than a lecture. They had a fairly quiet dinner and Hermione tried to go to bed early to be well rested but sleep proved elusive. A cup of cocoa and another mild sleeping potion finally helped her unwind enough to fall asleep late that night.

--

Hermione, the Weasleys, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order left very early the next morning for the Ministry to be there plenty early before the trial was set to take place even though they had reserved seats. Even so the Ministry was a circus. Inside the building, the entrance lobby had been magically expanded in order to accommodate the enormous crowds expected to appear on the day of the trial. Ministry officials were desperately trying to prevent the crowds of wizards and witches with signs both for and against Harry Potter from getting out of control as they hurled arguments and insults at each other. It appeared they were having little success. Hagrid, in a very foul mood, was easily shoving people left and right, clearing a wide corridor for the rest to follow. The shouting matches toned down somewhat as people began recognizing the group, though some chose the moment to hurl bitter taunts their way as well. Dumbledore's light hand gently restrained a quickly angering Hagrid, and likely prevented a dire need for magical healers. Ignoring both sides of protestors, as well as the numerous reporters, the small group filed down to the lift and descended to courtroom number ten. Security was much tighter below and outside the immediate entrance to the courtroom, but they passed through easily.

Dumbledore and McGonagall took their respective seats with other members of the Wizengamot who were already present and watched as Hermione, the Weasleys, and the remaining members of the Order took their seats behind where Harry would sit. The audience area had been expanded as well, to accommodate the intense demand for public access to the trial, especially in light of the competing versions of the inquiry that took place last week.

They tried to remain calm while the gallery slowly filled with prominent Ministry officials, influential and wealthy wizards and witches, and reporters, but waiting was sheer torture. Ron kept fidgeting in his seat while Hermione alternated between biting her lip and rubbing her fingers against her cheek. The rest of the Weasleys were nearly as anxious.

Finally Fudge arrived with a confident gait and with a smug and condescending glance around the room, took the center seat. He stood and declared the court to be in session.

“Bring in the accused, Mr. Harry James Potter,” he commanded. As the doors to the side opened, there was a rustle in the aisle behind the Weasleys.

“Get out of the way! Move it! Step aside you bloody idiot!”

Turning around, she saw the angry faces of Bill and Charlie Weasley, rudely shoving their way towards their family and the other members of the Order. Ignoring the glares of the others around them, Bill hissed towards his father, “Somebody's got to tell Dumbledore. Those idiots at Azkaban just gave Harry a double dose of potions. He doesn't look too good right now.”

As Hermione heard a rising crescendo of voices from the audience, she returned her attention to the opening doors at the side of the courtroom. Six guards were now dragging a snarling, screaming figure out into the courtroom. Gasps emerged from the crowd and Hermione's face went white with shock as she saw Harry's reaction to the potent potions he had been given. Her gaze hardened when she caught the look of satisfaction on Fudge's face.

Dumbledore was already rising to protest the obvious mistreatment of the prisoner as Hermione sat in her seat and closed her eyes in deep concentration. The last thing she heard was Fudge's denial that there had been anything given Harry beyond a mild sedative and that it appeared obvious that he had finally cracked and gone completely insane.

Immediately she found herself in a swirling kaleidoscope of whirling colors. Where the clouds of her last visit had been soft pastels that slowly changed colour, the painfully bright images that threatened to blind her moved and shifted with such speed it made her sick to her stomach. Her head pounding and her stomach threatening to empty its contents, she slowly despaired of being able to find Harry, let alone help him find his way to consciousness. Nevertheless, she refused to give up on Harry and struggled to move forward, to at least try and help him in some way. No sooner had she moved then she encountered some sort of resistance that slowed her down, and then violently threw her back.

A scream of anguish left her lips and as she opened her eyes again to get her bearings she realized she was back in the courtroom and the court was completely silent. She could feel hundreds of eyes upon her as Molly reached over and placed a comforting arm around her.

Fudge glared at her. “Another outburst like that Miss Granger, and I'll have you removed from this courtroom. I'm sorry if the facts seem to incriminate your very good friend Mr. Potter, but justice must be served. Please continue, Mr. Grimaldi.” Through the tears beginning in her eyes, Hermione could see Fudge was not sorry at all, but rather basking in his imminent victory over the young man who had snubbed him and made look like a fool in front of the entire wizarding world several times.

She saw that three of the guards were physically restraining Harry in his seat, though Harry did not seem to be moving at all.

Turning to Molly, she whimpered, “What happened? How did he calm down?”

Nearly sobbing herself, Molly replied, “They stunned him. Four times! What do they think they're doing? They're going to…” then she refused to finish her thought.

Crying into Molly's shoulder, Hermione said, “It's over then. I can't reach him. His mind is whirling so fast, so fast…I couldn't find him. He's lost. Everything we've done…for nothing. I've lost him, Molly. What am I going to do?”

Molly couldn't summon her voice, she just hugged Hermione tighter, who had begun to shake uncontrollably. Grimaldi had already questioned the surviving witness from the attack on Azkaban and had nearly finished presenting the rest of the case for the Ministry. With a curt nod to Grimaldi, Fudge stood. “We understand that Mr. Potter's defense attorney has no witnesses to call to challenge the testimony already presented.”

A young, very nervous young wizard stood at the table where Harry was being held down and responded. “Once again, I wish to lodge a formal complaint about the manner in which the preparation for the defense of Mr. Potter was hampered. I was only assigned to the case three days ago…”

“You were appointed by the court because Mr. Potter failed to secure his own counsel,” replied Fudge.

“Yes, I understand that sir, but that is not very much time to prepare an adequate defense for a trial of this magnitude. Besides…”

“That is irrelevant. You are a competent and highly skilled lawyer, and you have provided an adequate defense for Mr. Potter. Do not be ashamed if you lose this case because the facts clearly demonstrate his guilt.”

“But again, I must protest. I was never able to speak with my client in order to organize an adequate defense. He has been medicated and kept unconscious for the past week, since his initial hearing.”

“And I have already explained that that step was a necessary precaution in order to prevent both his escape and the possibility of additional violence at Azkaban. You have been provided with the entire manuscript from the informational hearing, which I may add, was illegally leaked to the press.”

“Yes, and that manuscript indicated there was a witch by the name of Hermione Granger who could provide an alibi for Mr. Potter during the attacks.”

“Miss Granger is an underage witch and therefore unable to testify in a court of law. Besides, it's common knowledge to anyone who reads a newspaper that she is a very close friend of Mr. Potter's. It would surprise nobody in this room that she would provide him with an alibi. Now, if you have nothing further to add to his defense, you may sit down. And the Wizengamot will retire to decide the verdict.”

“I have nothing further,” answered the crestfallen voice of the defeated young lawyer.

“Good. Then I will ask the Wizengamot to retire and…”

“Wait,” came a small, raspy voice. There was complete silence throughout the courtroom. Hermione stopped shivering for a moment and looked up from Molly's shoulder.

Fudge rose and glared at the young lawyer in his chair. “Did you say something?”

“No he didn't. Now tell your thugs to let go of me and I'll answer for my own defense,” stated a slightly stronger, but still husky voice. Hermione stood up and began rubbing her arms, which she realized were covered with goosebumps. She shivered again and then realized how cold the courtroom seemed to be compared to a few minutes ago. With a spreading smile on her face she realized what was happening. “He's fighting it! He's fighting it!” she whispered happily, as if fearful that speaking too loudly might break the spell.

Hermione watched, as did the entire courtroom, the three bulky Aurors slowly back away from the still form of Harry Potter. His arms still bound tightly behind him, Harry slowly and very stiffly rose from his chair and stepped awkwardly around the table. He moved haltingly to the center of the space between the seated Wizengamot and the gallery of onlookers. He planted his feet firmly and then raised his gaze to meet directly the eyes of Minister Fudge.

Harry bowed his head mockingly and spoke, “Minister Fudge…”

“I object! The witness first needs to be sworn in and then…”

“You can shut the hell up!” snapped Harry, his voice growing steadily stronger and more controlled. “I have neither the time nor the energy right now to deal with a worthless little cockroach like you. Crawl back into your hole.” The chilly air seemed to crackle with magical power. Grimaldi cowered and hunkered down into his seat.

“Temper, temper, Mr. Potter. Can I assume you've given up trying to prove you're crazy in order to get a reduced sentence in St. Mungo's? Well, let me tell you what young man, you're going to get everything your wild acts of vengeance deserve. In addition to those Death Eaters you murdered in cold blood, you killed innocent guards who simply got in your way. Now if you have any witnesses who can testify and provide you an alibi, please call them forward now. Otherwise, this trial is over and we will retire…”

“Not just yet, Minister Fudge. Mr. Potter can call witnesses, if he has them. But he can also testify on his own behalf, if he wishes. That is how this court functions,” insisted Madame Bones.

“Very well,” sighed Fudge angrily. “Do you have any witnesses to call Mr. Potter?”

“None that this court will accept.”

“I take that is a no?” smiled Fudge without warmth. “And I suppose you are going to explain your alibi again to the court—which, as you have just admitted, cannot be corroborated.”

“No, I am not going to give you my alibi. I'm going to give you the real murderer.”

The courtroom exploded in commotion at Harry's statement.

“Order! Order in the court!” yelled Madame Bones.

Fudge and Harry continued to glare at each other.

“Oh, this ought to be good, Mr. Potter. I do so love your stories. They get better every year.”

“I doubt you're going to like this one much, since you're such a central figure in it.”

“I'm involved? Ahh, let me guess. The murderer is…Dolores Umbridge! She somehow escaped St. Mungo's and orchestrated a clever conspiracy to make you look like the murderer because she dislikes you so strongly. Really, Mr. Potter, is that the best you could come up with?”

“No, the killer is not Dolores Umbridge. Nor is it one of your other underlings. You're the murderer.” Harry replied in a chilling, quiet voice that reached the far edges of the courtroom.

Fudge looked at him for a moment and then began laughing out loud while Harry just looked at him calmly. The rest of the courtroom erupted in pandemonium at Harry's accusation. It took Madame Bones several minutes to silence the court again.

“Really. Now that is a good twist on some of your previous stories, Mr. Potter. But then I suppose you felt you needed new enemies after you defeated You-Know-Who. Please, tell the court if you have any evidence that can prove I murdered Mr. Malfoy and the others at Azkaban.”

“I didn't say you murdered Malfoy or any of the Death Eaters. In fact, I suspect they're all still alive, hiding in some remote hole somewhere, looking for a new Dark Lord to make something of their pathetic, pitiful lives. So I don't have any evidence that you murdered any of them. But you did commit at least two murders. One was a guard at Azkaban. And the other man you killed was the real Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.” There was a shocked silence followed by a growing buzz that spread throughout the room as the people in the room asked their neighbors to make sure they had heard Harry correctly.

Fudge's angry glare turned to one of mocking scorn. “Trying the insanity route again, are we Potter? Lucius Malfoy is dead and you are on trial for his murder. And I am very much alive, as I believe most people here in the courtroom would agree. Now if you're somehow suggesting I'm an imposter, like that mad instructor Dumbledore brought to his school, and that I'm somehow using a Polyjuice potion, these same people can testify that I haven't drank anything since I've been in this courtroom, over an hour and a half ago. Now I think this court has heard more than enough. So unless you have any relevant evidence to provide the court, instead of these wild and only slightly amusing accusations, I move that the Wizengamot retire…”

“Oh, but I can prove it,” replied Harry in a confident tone. “And you're going to help me do it.”

*-*-*

Next Chapter: Bringing Down a Minister

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Bowing slightly towards Madame Bones and with a quick glance at Dumbledore, Harry continued. “Now with the court's indulgence, I would like to tell all of you gathered here today a little story. Pay close attention, Fudge, I think there's a part that even you don't know about.

It started several weeks ago, a couple of weeks before my seventeenth birthday in the prison of Azkaban. During one of his routine inspections of Azkaban, Minister Fudge, in passing by Lucius Malfoy's cell, stopped to chat for a moment. Malfoy, along with many of the other prisoners, had regained much of their former persuasiveness and cunning since the departure of the Dementors from Azkaban and their replacement with human Aurors. When Fudge passed by, Malfoy caught his attention with an offer of assistance.

Malfoy once again pled innocence and argued that he had been acting as a double agent, that he had secretly been working to weaken Voldemort's power from within. He argued that he had undermined Voldemort's efforts at creating several critical alliances, that he had purposely mismanaged the pursuit of various magical artifacts Voldemort had sought to obtain, and that he had delayed the completion of several research and development projects that would have easily won the war for Voldemort. He reminded Fudge of their old friendship and managed to convince him that Voldemort's defeat was due more to his efforts than by anything I had done.

As proof, he told Fudge of a new potion that he had been placed in charge of developing. Called a Mental Suggestion potion, it would plant either a strong sense of attraction or rejection towards a selected set of people or actions. It would act very subtly and with permanent effects. He explained to Fudge that he had perfected it several months before he had been captured at the Ministry, but had never told Voldemort. Voldemort had wanted to use it to convince me that I could no longer trust any of my friends and that I should no longer try and oppose Voldemort or his Death Eaters. He then explained to Fudge that it could just as easily be used to convince me that my best friend and supporter had always been Cornelius Fudge, and to create an urge within me to do whatever would be in the best interest of Fudge's aspirations.

Malfoy quickly had him convinced. Malfoy explained that all he would need would be some personal information about me, information about my friends and current activities, so that the Suggestion could be planted in such a way as to avoid suspicion. And, Malfoy explained, he obviously would need to send a private, sealed message to the hidden Death Eater who could prepare the potion. When Fudge protested, Malfoy countered that his contact would have to believe he was still working in Voldemort's interests, not that of anyone else in order to actually complete the potion. Malfoy assured him that he would tell his lieutenant that the Minister had turned a blind eye to the rise of Voldemort and would suggest that through this new potion Fudge would influence me to do the same, thus allowing the power of the Death Eaters to rise again, but this time with less resistance.

Besides, argued Lucius, Fudge could always continue to take his chances with me and what he described as my erratic and increasingly hostile behavior towards Fudge. He also reminded Fudge that I seemed to take great pleasure in embarrassing him publicly. Convinced by Malfoy's lies, Fudge made his decision and there was no turning back. He ordered additional surveillance of me and my friends by Aurors, under the cover of providing protection, and enabled the smuggling of several sealed messages from Malfoy to his unnamed contact…”

“This is quite a little tale you seem to be weaving, Mr. Potter.”

“Oh, it's about to get very interesting. Especially for you.

As I was saying, Malfoy, with the assistance of Minister Fudge, was able to put into play his plan—though it was actually much different from the one that he had explained to Fudge. I don't think I need to remind the court that Malfoy was always a very skilled liar. Not even his lawyer could hide that. Anyways, the plan did not involve the use of a potion like the one Malfoy described, but for all I know, there may have actually been a potion like that in development. No, the plan Malfoy set into motion was a series of murders carried out by a very skilled assassin. The first was Katie Bell.”

Gasps filled the courtroom while Harry continued. “The next intended target was actually to be Ron Weasley. But nobody, except for Katie and Ron, knew that they had…er, a falling out. So the assassin altered the plan slightly, and tried to kill my other best friend, Hermione Granger. The ultimate goal was to assassinate me, as revenge for defeating Voldemort. Fortunately, we were able to defeat the assassin before he could finish off Hermione. We weren't so lucky with Katie. But the assassin died before we could get any information out of him.”

“What are you talking about, Potter? The murderer, that person you claim was a vampire, escaped both you and Mr. Hunt.”

“The vampire wasn't the assassin. And Katie Bell had already been murdered long before she entered that clearing with Hermione. You see, the assassin that killed her took the exact form of Katie Bell in order to kill its next victim.” Fudge's eyes widened in surprise and fear. The rest of the crowd discussed this latest revelation in horror and disbelief.

Harry raised his voice slightly in order to continue and the courtroom quickly quieted in order to listen. “Ah, I see Malfoy neglected to mention the other assassin. You see, when Malfoy learned that I had survived, he was very upset. So was Fudge, but for different reasons. Fudge confronted Malfoy, who denied that he had anything to do with the attack. But Fudge wasn't entirely convinced.

So Malfoy had to resort to an alternative plan. One of the Azkaban guards had been bought off by Malfoy several months ago. This guard named Winters, was also one of the Aurors that had volunteered to serve on several of the additional shifts that Fudge had ordered. Winters thus had access to the Burrow, where I believe he would have been able to get into my room. That's probably how he got the hair he needed for the Polyjuice potion—I imagine he simply took some hairs from my comb. Once Malfoy had the hair, he was ready to launch his other plan. He had Winters tell Fudge that the Mental Suggestion potion was ready and to come see him. This final meeting took place last week, the day of the attack on Azkaban.

Fudge came with Winters to meet with Malfoy. It didn't last long. Winters, or at least the assassin who looked like Winters, with Malfoy's help, overpowered Minister Fudge and took his wand. Malfoy then took some of his own hair, put it in a dose of Polyjuice potion, and forced the Minister to drink it. The assassin then absorbed Fudge's memories so that he could copy his every thought and action perfectly and left behind a body that now looked like Lucius Malfoy. With the Minister's own wand, Malfoy then cast the Avada Kedavra curse on the Minister, even though he was already dead, thus faking his own death. Obviously, if a wizard dies while under the influence of a Polyjuice potion, he does not return to his normal form—that's why it appeared Malfoy had been murdered.

Malfoy then took the remaining vial of Polyjuice potion, sprinkled some black hairs in it that were from me, freed the remaining Death Eaters, and then killed all but one of the remaining guards. That would have been fairly easy because Winters, before he left Malfoy's cell, took the shape of Minister Fudge. Though it might have been odd to see Fudge and Potter visiting together in Azkaban, I'm sure none of the guards suspected anything until it was too late.

Then Malfoy made sure the last surviving guard saw only him, in the form of Harry Potter, so that not only would nobody bother looking for Malfoy, but he would ensure that the entire world turned against me and I ended up in either Azkaban or St. Mungo's for the rest of my life. Maybe not as good as killing me, but almost as satisfying.”

There was complete silence in the courtroom, broken only by the delayed clapping of Minister Fudge. “Bravo, Harry. Bravo. Truly, you have missed your calling as an Auror. You are far too creative for such a mundane occupation. But, there is one tiny little detail missing from your wild account. If I am, as you claim, some assassin secretly working for Mr. Malfoy, how is it that I can look like the Minister of Magic without a Polyjuice potion? There is no spell for it, nor have I taken a potion in the last hour. Please, don't stop now with these wonderfully inventive yarns.”

“Oh, well that's simple enough. You're not human.”

Fudge began laughing over the murmuring of the crowd. “What am I then, a delusional house-elf? A transfigured centaur? A dwarf hit with an Engorgement charm? A pixie with special faerie dust? Really, I think this court has been more than lenient enough with your defense, Mr. Potter. Now I will…”

“No, you're a shapeshifter.”

Puzzled looks and furrowed brows surrounded Harry. Fudge stopped and stared at Harry in shock.

“You know what I'm talking about. Thankfully, you're just an aberration, an unnatural freak, even in the magical world. How on earth the Death Eaters managed to create two of you, I'll never know. What I do know is that you can assume the form of anyone you kill and absorb their memories in order to act just like them, which makes it nearly impossible for you to be detected.”

“So, Mr. Potter, then there is no way to either prove or disprove your theory. You are simply asking the entire gathered Wizengamot and all those in attendance to believe that I am an imposter, some sort of magical assassin, and part of a diabolically clever scheme merely aimed at putting you in prison. And we are to accept all of this without any shred of evidence, any witnesses, any sort of proof beyond the fact that you say it is the truth. My, my boy, you are delusional. I've heard enough.”

“I already stated that I can prove this, with your help.”

“I think you'll understand if I decline to participate in your mad little game. Now we are quite through wasting the time of this court.”

“I will give you a choice,” spoke Harry in a very quiet voice as he began approaching Fudge and then added in a voice so low only Fudge could hear it, “Yonnua.”

Fudge blinked, and then his eyes went wide with fear for a moment before he regained control.

“Guards! Seize him! Stun him!”

“Accio wand!” thundered Harry. Sparks of light burst from the manacles binding his hands together. The metal bands burst apart and they rattled to the floor loudly. He reached out his right hand and deftly snatched his wand from the air as it streaked towards him from a pouch in Dumbledore's cloak. Right foot forward, in perfect balance, Harry pointed it straight at Fudge's chest. “Call off your thugs, now!” he commanded in a sharp tone.

Fudge looked unconcerned and replied, “Harry, surrender your wand immediately. Do not make this any worse than it already is. Please do not do anything foolish that may harm your close friends in the audience. You cannot escape. There are anti-Apparation wards in place, as well as spells which will block your own unique teleporting ability. Unless you want to kill all of us, which I do not doubt you are probably capable of, there is no escape. Surrender now Harry, and I give you my word that I will get you the best possible treatment at St. Mungo's.”

“Shut up!” yelled Harry. “Tell them to back off. NOW!” Out of the corner of his eye, he could sense the three guards, joined by perhaps a dozen others, slowly encircling him.

“Harry, surrender now. This is your last chance. At my command, they will stun you into submission and then we will retire to decide your fate. You do not…”

A deceptively soft voice masked the steel tone in Hermione's reply. “Call off your dogs, Fudge, before they get hurt. One of them might get a spell off, but there won't be a second spell.” Hermione was standing in her seat, to give her and her wand a better angle at the slowly circling Aurors. When Fudge glanced from Harry to the audience, he saw a slender, slightly bushy haired witch nearly surrounded by red haired wizards, all of whom had their wands out and aimed at different Aurors. Then he saw a number of adult wizards and witches near them who also had their wands out and aimed, waiting quietly. From the stern looks on their faces and the easy stances which they held, he knew they were not only deadly serious but combat hardened. And he knew that most of their experience had come during the last battle with Voldemort.

Madame Bones and Dumbledore both rose at almost the same moment.

“I will have order in my court!”

“Friends, I'm sure we can settle this without dueling. Please calm down. Minister, tell your guards to step down. There is no need…”

“No need?! He nearly attacked me. He's broken his chains, summoned his wand—which you seem to have brought here for him, Dumbledore—used wandless magic, and now his friends have drawn their wands to threaten the guards during the middle of a trial. They should all be arrested and charged…”

“Yes, I am sure there are enough irregularities in the proceedings of this trial to employ special investigative commissions for several years. However, I believe Mr. Potter was still providing his defense…”

“Don't tell me that you believe any of this…but of course you do, Dumbledore. I should have known, you've always tried to undermine me. Well, I'm afraid you won't be able to save your favorite pupil this time. He's done more than break school rules this time, and he'll have to pay for it.” When Fudge returned his glance towards Harry, he noticed that many of the Aurors were casting nervous glances over their shoulders at the wands being aimed at them from the audience.

“As I've been trying to explain, we can settle all of this very easily,” stated Harry. “We could have Dumbledore or someone else cast an Infravision charm on members of the Wizengamot in order to look at you for themselves.”

Fudge looked at Harry in horror briefly before regaining control.

“Of course, there will always be those who doubt, or who will argue that Dumbledore or I somehow created an illusion that only made your head glow twice as brightly as a normal human being, thus revealing your inhuman nature.

Or…we can simply ask you to cast a spell.”

Every eye in the courtroom swiveled to stare at Minister Fudge, whose face had paled considerably.

“Any spell will do. You don't have to do a Patronus charm or transform a teacup. A simple Lumos will do. Just make the tip of your wand glow, or shoot a few sparks out of the end. Dumbledore told me that you got excellent marks in Charms, so it shouldn't be that difficult. After all, you are the Minister of Magic. You can do a simple light charm, can't you?” Even most of the Aurors were staring at the Minister now, whose forehead was beaded with sweat.

Suddenly Fudge dove behind Madame Bones and grabbed her by the back of the neck, pulling her up in front of him to use as a human shield. “Fine, Potter. Since you've discovered what I am, you know exactly what I am capable of. Dumbledore, have the anti-Apparation wards removed, now! And you, witch, you are going to Apparate both of us out of here on my command. And don't even think about trying to leave me behind, I can read your every thought and if I even get a hint of betrayal, I will strip your mind clean in a heartbeat. And you, Potter, drop your wand.”

Harry stared at him for a moment. Spreading his arms out wide, and bending towards the ground, Harry replied in a defeated tone of voice. “Fine, fine. I'll just put it down right STUPEFY!” he shouted as he swept the wand back forward, in a motion faster than the eye could follow, to aim right at Madame Bones.

Both Bones and Fudge flew backwards for nearly twenty feet, knocking aside several chairs and other wizards and witches sitting in the Wizengamot. They struck the back wall with tremendous force, Bone's head cracking solidly against Fudge's nose, before they both fell forward after the initial impact. Dumbledore was running towards the two shouting for everyone to clear away and make room. Harry was right behind him. With Harry covering Fudge's unconscious body with his wand, Dumbledore rolled him over with his foot and then rolled and dragged Madame Bones' body away from the Minister. Harry continued to watch Fudge closely. He heard Dumbledore whisper Enervate and then heard him call for someone to summon healers from St. Mungo's. As his wand hand began to shake, he felt a comforting arm around his side and felt Hermione's hair brush his arm.

“She's going to be fine, Harry. Dumbledore just wants to make sure. She's just shaken up.”

“I could have killed her, Mione. I cast a very strong stunning spell. I was afraid it might be too much for her. I just wanted to make sure he didn't escape. Who knows who else he might have killed. But she could have died.”

“Harry, she would have died if you hadn't stunned them. He would have escaped and then he would have killed her without a second thought. You saved her life, Harry. You did.”

“I hope so. I don't want any more deaths on my account.”

“I know, Harry. I know.”

Harry could see the nervous and fearful looks sent his way by several members of the Wizengamot standing well away from Harry, Hermione, and the stunned assassin.

“Well done, Harry,” spoke Dumbledore quietly as he laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. “Do not worry about Madame Bones, she will be fine. You handled this as well as…”

“Slicio!” shouted Harry and with a short, slashing motion launched a quick spell at the Yonnua, who had suddenly sprung up and charged towards Harry and Hermione with a long dagger in his fist. The Yonnua fell a foot in front of them, his legs nearly cut out from under him by the force of Harry's spell. His right leg was slashed deeply and began bleeding quite severely.

“Finish me off,” hissed the Yonnua, his eyes full of hate and spite. “Make it a clean kill.”

Harry raised his wand to point directly at the Yonnua's forehead. “I should, for all the murders you have committed, and all those you will doubtless commit in the future.” Harry's knuckles cracked as he gripped his wand even more tightly. Harry remembered all too vividly the terrible consequences of preventing Remus and Sirius from executing Wormtail for his crimes.

“Harry!” “No, Harry!” came the twin pleas from Dumbledore and Hermione.

Harry stared at the prone assassin for a long moment before speaking. “But I won't. I'm not a murderer like you. I won't kill you in cold blood. Petrificus Totalis!” The Yonnua was completely paralyzed, his face frozen in shock. “Hermione, can you stop the bleeding until a Healer arrives?”

While Harry kept his wand aimed at the Yonnua, Hermione knelt, extended her wand, and closed the wound, which had continued to bleed profusely. Satisfied that he would live until the Healers could give him further treatment, she stood and Harry waved his wand again, causing a number of very strong ropes to bind themselves tightly around the immobile figure. Only then did he look aside to Dumbledore.

“How can we guard this guy? I can't believe he shook off that stunner I hit him with. They're going to have to come up with something better.”

“Do not worry, Harry. We will find a solution. And thank you for concealing the true nature of the Yonnua. I still believe that is something that is better left unknown if possible. But now you should return to your seats. Technically, we still need to decide the case, but I believe these last minute revelations should prove very helpful to your case Harry.”

Harry and Hermione returned to their seats while Dumbledore placed a heavy guard on the immobilized Yonnua which was composed mostly of members of the Order. The Yonnua was then taken away. Dumbledore quieted the courtroom, which was still loudly discussing what they had just witnessed, trying to make sense of the bizarre turn of events. In the absence of Minister Fudge and Madame Bones, Dumbledore asked Harry if he had any further testimony to present, and then called for the Wizengamot to retire to deliberate. After ten minutes, they returned with a unanimous vote to acquit Harry of all charges. They also decided no charges would be brought against any of the people who had threatened to use magic against the Aurors guarding Harry.

Cheers rang throughout the chamber at Dumbledore's announcements. Harry felt like his ribs would be crushed as he endured crushing hug after hug from the Weasley family, the remaining members of the Order, and numerous classmates from Hogwarts who had somehow found their way into the chamber after the verdict was announced.

Finally, Harry found Hermione again, and just wrapped his arms around her.

“Thank you Mione. Thank you. I owe you my life. You never gave up on me—you saved me. How can I ever thank you enough?”

“You don't have to Harry. You would have done the same for me. Don't you realize yet that I would do anything to help you, to protect you?”

“I love you Mione. What did I ever do to deserve someone as special as you?” And he gave her a wonderful, sweet kiss that took the breath from both of them. Neither of them noticed the flashing lights around them.

“Nice move, Harry,” commented Fred.

“I'm sure that kiss just landed on the front page of every paper tomorrow,” chuckled George.

“Yeah, hearts all over the world will be breaking tomorrow,” chimed in Fred.

“And the day after, poor Hermione will start getting the Howlers from every witch in the world who wanted our little hero Harry all to herself,” added George.

“Knock if off, you two,” threatened Harry in an attempted serious tone, only to break out laughing himself.

Hermione sniffed, “And to think I had considered not confiscating any of your illegal products that might find their way into Hogwarts for the entire year. After those remarks, I believe I've changed my mind.” Despite her stern look, there was a trace of a smile she couldn't quite hide.

Taking control of the situation, Molly surged forward and pulled Harry along, circling her arm around his back. “Come home to the Burrow, Harry. You look skinny as a scarecrow. I'll have you back in proper shape in no time at all. And I won't take no for an answer. Come along then, the whole lot of you.” Her family and Harry and Hermione happily fell in behind her. “Has anyone seen Ron?” she asked as they exited the courtroom. Harry and Hermione had been wondering the same thing. He had been sitting with Hermione and his family through the whole trial, but had disappeared a few minutes after congratulating Harry right after the verdict was given.

As the group exited the lift and walked into the entrance lobby, Hermione stopped so suddenly that Harry bumped into her. She was looking over at something off to the side. Harry looked over and saw a tall young man with bright red hair embracing a much shorter witch, with jet black hair. Her face turned slightly and Harry recognized her immediately. Cho Chang! Her face blushed slightly when she realized that Harry and Hermione were looking at her and she quickly looked down. Harry prodded Hermione, and they started walking again, trying to catch up with the rest of the Weasleys.

“What on earth was that all about?” asked Hermione.

“I don't know. And I'm too tired to even think about it today. But let's keep this between the two of us. As much fun as it might be to give the twins or Ginny some new material, I don't really feel like dealing with one of Ron's temper tantrums right about now. I just want to spend the next week before school starts relaxing with people I care about. If Ron wants to tell us something, we'll let him bring it up.”

The victory feast at the Burrow quickly erased any uneasiness there might have been at seeing Ron with Cho. Ron did not say anything, and neither did Harry or Hermione. Well fed and very tired after visiting with friends as close as family that afternoon and evening, Harry slept better than he had in a week.

--

Next Chapter: End of Vacation

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Ch 21 End of Vacation

Harry was laying on his bed, resting after a light workout with Hermione and Saldar watching the sun slowly rise higher over the horizon. The sun had never looked so beautiful as it did now that he was a free man once again. Ron's bed was empty, and Harry was simply enjoying being alone for a few minutes. He heard the door swing open slowly and turned his head and smiled at the brown haired beauty who stepped into the room.

“I hope you're decent, lazy boy.”

“I am—I'm just enjoying the peacefulness of this morning. I was afraid I'd never see the world outside of my cell in Azkaban again.” Harry shuddered. “I don't know how Sirius and Hagrid survived it.”

Hermione sat by his side and put her arm around him as he sat up. Together, they simply watched the world outside the window.

Hermione chuckled when she heard Harry's stomach grumble. “Well, should we see if Molly saved us any breakfast?”

“After you.”

They had descended halfway down the staircase when they heard the loud voices of Ron, Fred, and George arguing angrily.

“I've told you both now, it's none of your bloody business!”

“We've seen the bloody picture, Ron! It's in all the papers today! You've made it our bloody business!” shouted Fred.

“And Katie told us she broke up with you because you were cheating on her, with Cho Chang!” snarled George.

“And the real Katie, the one I went out with, was already dead! The Katie that told you that was the one that killed her! Do you really think she'd be telling the truth?!?! How thick can you be?!?”

“Just answer the question Ron! How long have you been secretly seeing Cho Chang?!? Did you break up with Katie first, or is that why you broke up?!?!”

“Fine! You wanna know?! You really wanna know all the juicy details! Fine! I bumped into Cho a couple of times at Diagon Alley while Katie and I were still going out. We weren't doing so well and Cho was a very good listener. Katie thought I was cheating and I laughed at her when I tried to explain, and well, we broke up. After Katie, or whatever that thing that we thought was Katie got killed, and while Hermione was in her coma, I went to talk to Cho again. She seemed to care and understand what I was going through. She lost someone pretty close to her as well. Mum and Dad tried to talk to me, but they were the only ones, and it wasn't the same as talking to Cho. You guys acted like it was all my fault that she got killed, and everyone else was so concerned about Hermione and then Harry. It didn't seem like I was much help, nobody seemed to miss me, so I started spending more time with Cho. Now is that enough information for the two of you? Because if it's not, you can both sod off right now!”

Tears running down her face, Hermione gasped, “Oh, Ron, we didn't mean to ignore you. I didn't mean to push you aside and…”

Ron whirled to see both Harry and Hermione standing on the stairs above him. He looked startled at first, then his anger returned.

“I guess now I'm supposed to ask for permission to date your old flames, huh Harry?”

Harry's face was still pale from the vague reference to Cedric's death but he quickly snapped back, “Don't be an idiot Ron. I don't care if you date Cho, you can date whoever you want…”

“Thanks a lot, Harry. I guess I'm good enough for all of your rejects, huh? You better watch out, Hermione. Now that he's defeated You-Know-Who and uncovered the assassin of Minister Fudge, he'll be more famous than ever. Every witch in the world will be after him. You better be careful or he'll toss you aside just like Cho and you'll be stuck with some second rate wizard like me.”

“RONALD WEASLEY!!! If you think for one minute that I…” Hermione's furious voice paused as Harry grabbed her arm tightly. Turning, she saw his green eyes blazing with barely controlled anger.

“Ron, I'm sure you're just upset and blowing off steam so I'm going to give you a chance to apologize to Hermione,” spoke Harry forcefully, in a very controlled but chilling tone.

The twins had other ideas, as both had cocked their fists to punch Ron for his outburst before he had a chance to reply. Seeing their arms move, Ron glanced at Fred and then with a loud crack, disappeared.

Stunned, Fred and George looked at each other with their fists still clenched and held behind their ears.

“Put your fists down, you idiots!” cracked the voice of Ginny from the open doorway of the kitchen. Molly, standing beside her, was already turning away from the awful scene in the living room. Everyone there could tell by the way her shoulders were heaving as she slowly walked away that she was sobbing.

--

Sitting in the kitchen, Harry had managed to control his rage after Ron had left and Hermione had calmed down as well. Both sat and chewed on their toast mechanically as they sat at the kitchen table trying to swallow their breakfast and digest the latest turn of events involving Ron. Hermione had been the first to see the photos and articles which had likely sparked the tremendous row in the living room between the brothers.

Several of the papers had published a photo of Ron kissing Cho at the Ministry following Harry's acquittal. It wasn't on the front page, that was dominated by reports of the trial itself. But photos were all over the pages of what would be considered the society/gossip section of the paper. And all of the headlines ran some variation of Former Flame and Best Friend of Harry Potter Discover Love Amidst Shared Tragedy—Both Lost Former Loves in Attacks Aimed at Boy-Who-Lived. Many of the articles then added additional lurid details, including what Harry and Hermione hoped were only invented quotations such as “I still can't understand how Harry could save everyone else, but not my precious Cedric,” or “I can't believe how he continues to take all the credit—he had a lot of help bringing down You-Know-Who. There were a lot of us who trained every bit as hard, and took just as many risks as he did. I don't see him taking the responsibility for those who fell fighting beside him or protecting him.”

Harry and Hermione finished eating in silence. Harry then walked back up to the room he shared with Ron, and with his wand waving rapidly, quickly packed his trunk with all of his things.

“What do you think you're doing, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“I'm leaving. I'm going to my new place. It's been a rough couple of weeks for everyone here. And I think with everything going on here with you and me, Ron just felt left out. I'm going to leave to give him some space. Maybe that will help.”

“Well, let me come with you then.”

Harry hugged her and then kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I don't think that would be such a good idea.” Smiling, he added, “Especially considering the argument we got into the last time we were alone there.”

Trying not to smile, Hermione punched him lightly in the chest. “Fine, I guess I'll hang out with Ginny and try to do some damage control. Do you need any help taking your stuff over?”

He shook his head no and with a flick of his wand, shrunk his trunks and bags. “But I wouldn't mind some company.” Harry stuffed his now tiny luggage into a pocket and then double checked the room to make sure he had left nothing behind. Then the two of them walked downstairs and told Ginny they would be back in an hour. They then Apparated to the Weasley's joke shop, walked up to Harry's home, dropped off his stuff and visited with Dobby for a while. Dobby was very excited to learn that Harry would be staying with him for nearly a week before classes began. They finally returned to the Burrow, just as Molly was setting out sandwiches for lunch. They were not surprised to discover that Ron had not yet returned. Lunch was a quiet affair and then Harry announced that he wanted to go to St. Mungo's to check in on Madame Bones. Hermione volunteered to go with him of course, but Harry was surprised when asked to go as well.

Molly seemed to be feeling better and they felt slightly guilty about leaving her, but Charlie and Bill were still around. When they were finished eating, they gathered around the fireplace and each threw in a pinch of powder and said clearly, “St. Mungo's.”

--

Harry was about to get up off his hands and knees when Hermione tripped over the top of him and then Ginny stepped on his fingers and sprawled on top of him and Hermione.

“Harry, how can you be such a good seeker and such a klutz at the same time?” growled Ginny as she tried to disentangle herself from the other two.

“Honestly, that is the last time I ever follow you into a fireplace,” complained Hermione.

Several of the nurses, physicians, and conscious patients looked on in amusement as the three sooty teenagers slowly untangled themselves and slowly rose to their feet. Harry straightened his glasses and mumbled apologies to both girls. As he brushed his hair trying to get some of the ash and dust out, he could hear several murmurs.

“Come on, let's go find Madame Bones' room before the blasted paparazzi hear that I'm here. I can't believe I didn't put on some sort of disguise before I came. What was I thinking?”

Hermione led them to a stern looking nurse seated behind a large, white desk.

She looked down imperiously at the three from a very high stool. “How may I help you?” she asked in a tone that seemed like she was actually giving an order.

“We're here to see Madame Bones. She was brought in yesterday from the trial.”

“And you three would be…”

“I'm Hermione Granger, this is Ginny Weasley, and this is…”

But the nurse's eyes had already flicked to Harry's scar and her face paled considerably.

“Blimey, I'm not here to finish her off. I just wanted to make sure she was doing OK and…and to apologize for stunning her,” snorted Harry.

“Room 415, on…on the fourth floor,” stammered the nervous witch.

“Thank you,” replied Harry. The three quickly found a lift and took it to the fourth floor.

“411…413…ahh, here we go. 415,” announced Harry. “Hey! Where did Ginny go?” He and Hermione both stopped and looked around, but Ginny was nowhere to be found. “Maybe she went for a snack or something—I'm sure she'll turn up later.” Harry reached to grab the doorknob when he felt his hand suddenly grasped at the wrist.

“What the…” burst out Harry as he instinctively reached out and placed his left hand on top of the hand holding his wrist, trapping it there. He then raised his right elbow, pushed it forward several inches, and then began pressing downwards, looking for the other man's forearm. He found it and quickly began applying pressure downward. Within a moment, he heard the invisible wizard begin to moan in pain as his wrist began to bend very painfully at a very awkward angle, caught in Harry's strong grasp and now being bent by Harry's forearm.

He then heard the first syllable of a spell being muttered to his left. Forcing the wrist down very painfully, he felt the man's hold on his wrist loosen and he slipped his hand free to grab the man's elbow. With a quick spin, he flung the invisible man into his partner as the man finished his spell. With a flick of his wrist, his wand appeared in his hand as Hermione shouted Finite Incantatum in the direction of the two colliding bodies.

Two angry, disheveled mages looked up into two wands aimed right at their faces.

“Who are you and what are you doing hiding outside of Madame Bones' room? Answer me!” commanded Harry, pointing his wand threateningly. Everyone in the hallway had stopped to stare at the commotion.

Looking at the Auror insignia on the shoulders of their robes, Hermione whispered quietly, “Harry, they were probably guarding her room. They're wearing Auror's robes.”

“Yeah, I saw that. But anyone can put an Auror insignia on their robe.”

One of the men just sat and stared at Harry in complete shock. The other began cracking a grin as he raised his hands. “Well, I don't feel nearly as stupid now as I did a minute ago.” His eyes glanced at Harry's scar. “You must be Harry Potter. And you must be Hermione Granger. She's right by the way, we're here to guard Madame Bones. I'm Spliney. And this here is Wallace. Nice to meet you both.”

Harry thought he heard someone laughing inside the room. “Oh, just let them in. I told you two it was ridiculous to be hiding outside my room.”

Spliney rose and opened the door for the two of them. Wallace just sat there and kept rubbing his sore wrist.

“Sorry about that,” mumbled Harry as he walked through the door.

Madame Bones was leaning back on a bed, still chuckling as Harry and Hermione walked through the door.

“Come to finish me off, eh Harry?”

Harry blushed a bright red and found himself suddenly tongue tied. That seemed to make Madame Bones laugh even harder.

Finally regaining his composure and ignoring Hermione's grin, Harry managed to spit out, “Uhh, about yesterday. I'm terribly sorry I hit you with that Stunner. I reckon it was a pretty nasty shot, and I hope you're doing, well that you're feeling, uh, that you're OK.”

“Oh, all these quacks say I'll be fine. But they insisted on keeping me overnight, instead of letting me go home to my nice, comfortable bed. I hate hospitals.”

Harry grinned and replied, “I know exactly what you mean.”

Madame Bones smiled back. “Yes, Albus and I have had a few talks about you and some of your friends'…uhh…exploits. I imagine you have developed quite a distaste for the infirmary at Hogwarts.” She chuckled again.

Harry looked around the room and suddenly realized he hadn't brought anything when he saw several of the cards and bouquets of flowers. He placed his hands behind his back, pulled out a thread from a fraying hem, and quickly transformed it into a single, pink flower. He then bowed to Madame Bones in what he hoped was a nice gesture and handed her the rose, to her immense delight.

“Why, Mr. Potter, if I were thirty—excuse me—ten years younger, I might think you were trying to work up your courage to ask me out.” Harry turned bright red as Madame Bones laughed merrily and Hermione did her best to control a sudden fit of the giggles. Madame Bones graciously accepted the flower and placed it into an empty vase on a shelf near her bed.

“I suppose I should apologize, Mr. Potter. I really did not mean to embarrass you so.” She then winked at Hermione, who began laughing even harder behind the hand clamped tightly over her mouth.

“Yes, err, well, umm,” stammered Harry.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, beyond my health and offering your apologies?” In a more serious tone, she added, “Which, I might add, was completely unnecessary. It is I who should thank you Mr. Potter, for saving my life.”

“You're very welcome. I hope you're feeling better.” Harry then turned to leave.

“Oh, there's one other thing I think I should thank you for, Mr. Potter.” Madame Bones looked at both Harry and Hermione. “I want to thank you for bringing to the attention of the Wizengamot in a very direct and public way the need to address certain inadequacies within our justice system. I would be very pleased to visit with the both of you at some time in the future to discuss various ways in which we might uhh, improve upon our current system.”

Harry looked shocked for a moment. “Oh, I'm sure there's not much we, or at least I could contribute. Hermione, perhaps, but I don't think I…”

“Oh, I am very certain Miss Granger could provide some very refreshing and useful observations and suggestions. But Mr. Potter, you have much more practical first hand experience unfortunately, of the way our justice system works, or fails to work. Despite your doubts, I believe additional discussions with the two of you could be very useful to me as I try to solve some of the problems that have been brought to my attention. If you don't mind, of course.”

Harry glanced at Hermione's face, which looked very excited, and turned and smiled at Madame Bones. “I should warn you that Hermione will have lots of observations and suggestions to share with you.”

Hermione shot him a withering glance and added, “It would be our pleasure to help in any way we can, Madame Bones.”

They chatted for a few more minutes and then Harry and Hermione left Madame Bones to finish packing her things to go home. Out in the hall, they still saw no sign of Ginny, so they said goodbye to the two guards and went back to the lift. When they got off the lift, they quickly spotted Ginny sitting in a couch by the fireplace through which they had arrived. When she looked up at them, she had a very odd look on her face, which she quickly hid.

“What happened to you? Where did you go? Did you get lost?”

“No, no. I bumped into someone I thought I knew from school.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Oh, you probably wouldn't know her, she's from Hufflepuff. How was Madame Bones doing?”

Hermione grinned. “You'll never believe what she said to Harry.” Harry rolled his eyes and quickly walked away from the two chattering girls towards the fireplace.

--

Earlier, Ginny had let Harry and Hermione walk ahead of her as she looked for the special ward where Neville's parents stayed. For some reason, she had felt the need to visit his parents when Harry had mentioned making a visit to St. Mungo's. She knew that Neville came to visit fairly often with his grandmother during the summer, but she wasn't sure if she really hoped to run into him.

Checking one of the charts on the wall, Ginny easily found the pair of beds where the Longbottoms were sitting, propped up by several pillows. Even knowing beforehand that they would not recognize her did not lessen the lump she felt grow in her throat as she saw their vacant eyes and the slack skin hanging from their white, thin faces. She quietly sat on a stool between the two of them and gazed at them sadly, wondering again what had prompted her to come and visit them in the first place.

Several minutes later, she began whispering softly, as if confiding an important secret to the resting pair. “I'm Ginny Weasley, a very good friend of your son Neville. I don't know if you can understand what I'm saying, or even if you can hear me, but I thought you would like to know a few things about your son. Some things that he probably hasn't told you when he's come to visit.”

Ginny paused a moment in thought and then continued. “You would be very proud of him. He's stood up to Voldemort's Death Eaters in three of the last most important battles. He helped save Harry Potter's life a year and a half ago in the battle at the Ministry. He helped protect Harry until other members of the Order could arrive and capture the Death Eaters. Then Neville stood with other sixth and seventh year students to fight off an Army of Death Eaters and Dementors to save the other students at Hogwarts several months ago when Voldemort sent his army to attack it. And he came to fight with Harry against Voldemort himself and his entire army when Voldemort was finally defeated for good. He's got a couple of nasty scars he'll probably always carry, but he survived. And he's a hero. A hero! Your little Neville is a hero from the Second War against Voldemort. Though he's really not so little anymore. You would be so proud of him. I'm proud of him. I wish you could see him. I wish you could see him like I see him. He's a very courageous, a very kind, a very good young man.”

Tears running down her eyes, Ginny looked deeply at the expressionless faces and bowed her head. She then rested one of her hands lightly on each of the beds, and sobbed silently, bitter at the injustice and the senselessness of war, crying the tears that she suspected neither Neville nor his parents could. Once she had regained her composure, she rose slowly and turned to leave. Had she paused to look back, she might have noticed a single tear rolling down the cheek of Neville's mother.

As Ginny walked slowly back to the entrance, she heard another voice full of anguish. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help but stop and listen to the raw pain in the voice.

“I am sooo sorry this happened to you mother. I can't believe I was so blind, so stupid. I can't believe that I ever thought Father and the rest of his friends were right. Look what they've done to you. Look!

I thought they had finally gotten what was coming to them. I was so happy and angry at the same time. Happy because they all got exactly what they deserved. But angry because I wasn't the one to kill him. But you know what Mum? I've just been given another shot. Once again, Father has managed to find a way to escape. Just like always.

But I swear I'll make it up to you. I'll find him and I'll have vengeance. I'll make him pay for everything he's done to us. I'll find him and I'll kill him myself! For both of us! I swear it! I give my oath as a Malfoy that I won't rest until Father is dead.”

Clasping her hand to her mouth, Ginny realized who she had heard and began walking quickly to the doors. She bumped into a table, sending several glass flasks crashing to the floor.

“Who's there?” rang out an angry voice. Ginny turned again to flee and had run three steps before a powerful hand reached out and grabbed her arm, turning her around to face the thin, white face of Draco Malfoy, livid with rage. His wand was out and only inches from her face.

“What are you doing here, Weasley? What did you hear?” Looking at her face, Ginny noticed some of the anger drain away to be replaced by puzzlement at the odd look on Ginny's face.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Malfoy. I didn't realize anyone else was here.” Draco's face became a stony mask, Ginny could not tell what he was thinking or feeling, if anything. “I don't think I've ever thanked you for saving Harry and Hermione. Thank you. And I want you to know, that I am sorry for what happened to your mother.”

Shock and puzzlement again crossed Draco's face, to be replaced quickly with a flash of anger. “It wasn't your fault, it was that stupid idiot of a father who brought this about. Him and Voldemort. I don't see why you're apologizing.” Then his voice took a much sharper tone as he realized what she had really meant. “I don't need your pity, Weasley. Now go away. And if you mention any of this to anyone, I'll…”

Straightening to her full height, which still put her a good half foot shorter than Malfoy, Ginny stepped right back in front of him. She looked icily up into his eyes, ignoring the wand he still held pointed at her. “Don't you dare threaten me, Malfoy, or the next hex I put on you will last a week.”

Malfoy's jaw clenched in anger, and he almost involuntarily backed up a step, but he refused to budge an inch as Ginny continued.

“You're not the only one who has suffered at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. You're not the only one with old grudges to settle. I would love to have a nice little chat with your father at the end of my wand some day about a certain book he slipped in my cauldron at a bookstore several years ago. But you don't see me running around like a madman swearing oaths of vengeance. If that's the way you want to handle it, fine! Go and get yourself killed, nobody's stopping you!

But there are other ways of dealing with your anger and grief. You could talk to Dumbledore, or Snape. I know Harry would be willing to listen, if you wanted to talk to him. But if you want to do all this on your own, that's your choice. I'm not going to try and stop you.” Ginny turned on her heel and strode away angrily, leaving a speechless Draco Malfoy just staring at her.

Ginny paused at the doorway and turned for a moment to say one last thing. “I wouldn't have told anyone about this anyways. Whatever you say to your mum in private should stay that way, unless you want to share it with someone. But you do what you have to do, Draco.” And then she was gone with the door closing softly behind her, leaving Malfoy alone in the growing afternoon shadows from the shuttered windows.

--

That evening, Harry and Hermione were enjoying a wonderful feast that Dobby had prepared for them. Harry insisted that Dobby join them, much to Dobby's surprise and embarrassment. Halfway through the meal, Harry felt an annoying tingling sensation that set his nerves on edge.

“What was that?”

“What?” asked Hermione.

“It felt like I just got an electric shock.”

Hermione's eyes widened. “It's probably one of the silent alarms we've set on the house. It means there is an intruder.” Both drew their wands and rose from the table in one fluid motion. Senses alert, they silently crept through the house, when Harry paused, hearing the sound of a door opening downstairs in the cellar. They waited patiently in the room into which the door to the basement would open, extinguishing the lights to give them an added advantage over the intruder. The door opened slightly and a tall, lanky form stepped through cautiously and a bit awkwardly.

“Har-”

“Stupefy!” shouted Hermione.

“No!” shouted Harry as Ron's body flew backwards down the stairs, thumping hard on about every other step. Harry quickly raced down the stairs with Hermione following closely behind. Reaching the bottom, Harry rolled him over gently, trying to assess how badly he was hurt.

Ron opened one eye, and saw Harry, and then Hermione. “I guess you're still pretty upset then. Right, can't say that I blame…” His eye rolled back into his head and his head lolled to one side as he lost consciousness.

“Oh Ron, I am so sorry!” exclaimed Hermione. Looking at Harry, she explained, “I didn't recognize him.”

Harry just shook his head. “Why didn't he just use the front door? He knew how to get here. It looks like he came through the tunnel guarded by the Whomping Willow. That's probably how he got the broken arm. What an id…”

“Actually, Harry the wards are back in place. We set them to restore themselves after everyone went to Molly's for the birthday party. The only reason I could see the house instead of the Shrieking Shack was because I came with you. Right now, you and I are the only ones who could find this place from outside, except for the tunnel.”

“Oh. Well, let's get him back upstairs and I'll make a portkey to take us all back to the Burrow. Mobilocorpus.” Hermione led the way upstairs with Ron floating behind her, and Harry following, guiding Ron carefully. They returned to the kitchen where Harry grabbed a salt shaker and muttered Portus. He then rested the salt shaker on Ron's arm, and both he and Hermione touched the shaker with their fingers. Harry said, “Burrow,” and felt that familiar gut-wrenching sensation and then all three of them were in the Weasley's living room.

Nobody was there, so Hermione called out to Molly. She came through the kitchen door, wiping her eyes quickly, her face sad and full of concern. “What happened to Ron?” she shrieked as she quickly ran to his side.

“Well,” began Harry awkwardly, “we think he came to my house to apologize. He came through the passage guarded by the Whomping Willow and…”

“That's what happened to him? Oh look at him, his arm looks broke and…”

“Uhh, yeah. About that. Well, we thought it was an intruder and uhh…” Harry glanced quickly at Hermione, “and he got hit with a Stunner—we didn't realize it was Ron at first—and he fell down the stairs as well.”

“Well, I'm sure it's nothing we can't fix. Can you take him up to his bed? Hermione, can you help me gather a few things from the kitchen?” Harry floated Ron up to his bedroom and was joined a few minutes later by Molly and Hermione. He watched as Molly quickly reset Ron's left arm and began treating his different bruises and bumps. She then gave him a sleeping draught that would help him sleep peacefully through the rest of the night.

Harry borrowed some Chudley Cannon pajamas from Ron and crashed on the other bed, still worried about Ron. Ron was still sleeping the next morning when Harry woke up and headed downstairs. Molly was already fixing breakfast. Hermione and Ginny were chatting while the twins were muttering darkly at the far end of the table. A few minutes later the loud thumping footfalls of Ron could be heard on the stairs and the twins got up quickly and went outside. Molly followed their departure with a sad glance, but said nothing. Ron pushed through the door and was half in his seat before he realized that everyone was looking at him. With a shock, he realized that Hermione and Harry were both there as well, watching him quietly. His face coloured a deep, bright red and he jumped back from the table. He stopped at the door and turned as if to say something, but changed his mind and quickly headed outside.

Harry rose quietly and followed him out.

“Harry!”

“I'm just going to talk to him. It might be easier if it's just the two of us.”

“OK, but watch out for the twins. They still look pretty upset.”

Ron was halfway across the back yard before Harry could catch up to him. “Ron! Ron, we need to talk.”

Ron stopped and Harry could see his shoulders tense and his fists clench. Harry wasn't entirely sure Ron wasn't just going to try and hit him. Instead, he heard a low voice full of painful emotion.

“I…I don't even know where to begin Harry. I know I've said a lot of stupid things over the years, but yesterday was by far the worst. I wish I could say that I didn't mean any of those things I said yesterday, but there are times when…when I do wish I was you, that everybody saw me as a hero, that everybody adored me, that I was as powerful and famous as you, that someone as special as Hermione would love me…”

Furious, Harry grated his teeth. “Do you have any idea what you're wishing for Ron? Do you? I would give up all that hero-worshipping nonsense in a heartbeat to be with my parents and Sirius again, if only for a day. Do you have any idea what it's like being the hero of the world—that is if you manage to save the day. And if you don't, then the whole world turns on you in the blink of an eye! So you want the fame and power of the Boy-Who-Lived, do you? Well, you can have all of the crushing expectations, the immense burdens, and the horrible pain of loss that goes with it, mate. Be careful what you wish for—I only pray you never go through half of what I have. Blimey, Ron, how can I make you understand?” As his thoughts whirled, Harry kept quiet, afraid that at the moment, anything he said might only make the situation even more tense.

Ron continued, “I know it's stupid and selfish of me, and I know that you've suffered a lot of pain and anguish because of your fame and power, but still…I just don't know what to say, Harry. I wish I could take back everything I said yesterday and make it right. I wish that I never felt jealous of you and Hermione but there are times…And I completely understand if you never want to speak to me again. Hell, if I was in your place, I wouldn't even be listening to me ramble on here, I would have hexed myself a long time ago.” Ron's shoulders sagged and his head dropped to his chest. “All I can say Harry is that I'm sorry. I am soo sorry about yesterday and I swear that I'll never…”

“It's OK, Ron. Let's just forget about it.” As Ron turned around, Harry asked, “Uhh, you're not crying are you?”

Ron's face blushed red and then he asked Harry, “And what's wrong with your eyes, you get some dust in them or something?”

“No,” insisted Harry looking up into the bright morning sky. “I, uhh, I think it might be a few raindrops that just started to fall.”

Ron looked up and agreed quickly. “Raindrops, yeah, me too.” Then Ron gave him a huge, rib-cracking hug.

Harry managed to gasp out, “OK, Ron, that's enough. I said we were fine.”

“Right, right,” replied Ron and stepped back quickly. “Mates, then?”

“Of course,” smiled Harry, “I'll need some help with setting up some of the twins' pranks this year at school and I need to stay on good terms with the Gryffindor Quidditch captain if I want to play this year.”

Ron chuckled and then his face went slightly white. “Do you reckon Hermione will hex me again if I try apologizing to her again?”

Harry's grin grew. “Maybe. I'll open the door first for you. Just in case.” Harry chuckled as he noticed that his offer didn't seem to calm down Ron very much. They returned to the house and the girls inside quickly went back to eating, pretending they hadn't been watching through the windows and listening to Hermione's running commentary. Ron's apology was fairly good compared to his normal ones and Hermione didn't make him suffer too long before forgiving him. She then told him she was sorry for hexing him and gave him a huge hug before Harry joined in. Molly started crying and the rest of breakfast was much happier. After breakfast, the three of them found the twins and helped Ron iron out his differences with Fred and George. They still seemed upset, and Ron figured he would be the special target of their joking wrath for at least the next week. He was right.

--

Next Chapter: A New School Year

-->

Three days before the start of classes, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny found themselves in Diagon Alley, shopping for school supplies. Hermione had insisted on finding new dress robes for herself and Harry, and insisted on helping him pick out several new outfits as well. Ron eagerly offered his recently acquired fashion sense and Ginny merely laughed at Harry's growing discomfort the entire morning. Exasperated after trying on what seemed like the hundredth outfit, Harry insisted they break for lunch. Harry muttered all the way and swore he would never go clothes shopping with either of them again. He insisted he would create a golem that looked just like him to go with them instead the next time they felt the need to recreate his image.

They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and sat around a medium sized table and ordered some sandwiches. Several minutes later, they saw Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas and waved them over. A few minutes later, Padma and Parvati showed up with Lavender Brown. They brought over an extra table and joined the growing group. Halfway through their lunch, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood arrived, followed a few minutes later by several of Ginny's friends. By the end of lunch, Harry looked up and noticed that the large group of Gryffindors, with a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs from the DA had conscripted two thirds of the tables in the pub for their use. Harry chuckled as he looked around at all of his friends gathered round him.

“What's so funny?” asked Hermione.

“Last year, I felt so alone for most of the year, what with the training and the fear I wouldn't be ready in time to face Voldemort, that I never really paid much attention to all the people around me. Now look at this group. I've been in class with most of them for six years now, I've taught most of them in DA, and I've even fought with them against Voldemort. But it's like I don't even recognize them—it's like I'm seeing some of them for the very first time. I don't know quite how to explain it.”

Hermione smiled. “I think we're going to have a very good year Harry.”

Returning her smile, he replied, “I hope so. I certainly hope so.”

So far, all the conversation had been focused on the upcoming school year and their plans and had avoided the recent events of the summer. Harry was very glad, he really didn't feel like discussing it and was grateful that nobody had mentioned it. One of the Hufflepuffs, Justin Fletch-Finley, finally asked Harry a question that quieted the rest of the chattering teenagers.

“So who do you think will be the next Minister of Magic, Harry?”

Surprised, Harry responded. “How should I know? It's not like…”

“Oh, come on Harry. Don't be so modest. Everyone will be wanting to know what you think about the new Minister of Magic,” insisted Neville. Harry turned and stared at Neville in absolute shock.

“What do you mean? Why would anyone care what I think about…”

Laughing, Ginny responded. “Of course everyone is going to want to know what you think about any possible candidate Harry.” She reached over and pulled the Daily Prophet away from Hermione, who had finished reading it, and pushed it across to Harry. “Now normally, this isn't a very good paper, but the news it has today is fairly accurate. The Wizengamot is struggling to find someone to replace Fudge as the Minister of Magic.”

“You've got to be kidding. There must be dozens of wizards and witches who would love to be Minister of…”

“Oh yes, probably a hundred or more—but the Wizengamot can't just appoint anyone, especially in light of the events of this past year,” observed Ginny. Hermione simply sat and watched Ginny shrewdly while Harry listened as Ginny continued. “They've already asked Dumbledore, and he refused, saying he had a greater duty at Hogwarts to fulfill. They've talked with Madame Bones, but she insists she has too much to do within her own department to be able to take on additional duties. Obviously the Chief of the Aurors is in a very dubious position, what with the recent problems with some of the Aurors following Fudge's instructions and the inquiries that will be made shortly.”

“What about other ministers at the Department? Surely there must be somebody? Or someone who isn't at all associated with the Ministry,” protested Harry.

“Well, it seems like they want someone from the Ministry who at least knows how it works and who might already have connections within it to make the transition smoother. So they probably won't ask anyone from outside the Ministry. But most of the ministers of important departments had very close ties with Fudge, and right now that's not exactly a plus,” finished Ginny. “So you can see their problem. Personally, I think they'll end up appointing one of Fudge's former stooges, one that probably didn't have too many connections with him. Maybe Ernst Burdict from International Wizard Relations or Robert Skaggles from the Legal Review department. Or they might end up going with some member of the Wizengamot who is retired from the Ministry but is still an important and wealthy contributor, someone like Michael Dearvey or Carole Watkins.”

“Hmm. Well, I know who they should appoint,” stated Harry.

“Who?” asked Hermione curiously. “Do you know any of those people Ginny just mentioned?”

“No, but they'd be insane not to at least consider him,” responded Harry.

“Who?” pressed Ginny, leaning forward.

Harry didn't notice how all conversation in the tavern had quieted, as if everyone was holding their breath waiting for Harry to speak. “Well, your dad.”

“My Dad!?!?” exclaimed Ron in shock and then started laughing. Hermione and Ginny looked at him, and then gazed back at Harry with very thoughtful glances.

Harry glared momentarily at Ron and then explained. “Don't sell him short, Ron. I would trust your dad with my life.”

Holding his hands up, Ron defended himself. “I know, I know Harry. He's a great guy. But he's only Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, mainly because he…”

“Because he didn't see eye to eye with Fudge on a number of issues. Your dad has experience in the Ministry, he has lots of friends and connections, he understands how the Ministry works. And nobody would accuse him of being a Fudge lackey. But more importantly your dad knows what has to be done. He's been right in the middle of the wars against Voldemort and the Death Eaters for years. He knows that things have to change at the Ministry, change in the wizarding world, if we are to avoid the mistakes of the past. I'd vote for Arthur Weasley for Minister of Magic in a heartbeat.” Suddenly Harry realized that he had everyone's attention in the entire pub and lowered his voice. “But I don't have any say, so it doesn't really matter. Anyways, I think I'm ready for some ice cream.” Harry waved goodbye to most of his schoolmates and left the pub with Hermione, Ginny, and Ron.

After finishing off their ice cream at the special Weasley table where nobody could see them as Hogwarts students, they finished buying the rest of their school supplies. While Hermione looked at books, Ron, Harry, and Ginny spent over an hour in the specialty Broomstick shop debating which models of brooms would serve them best in the coming year. Both Ron and Ginny had received enough money from the settlement of Black's estate to purchase new brooms. Ron eventually settled on purchasing a Starduster Five, renowned for its stability and lightning fast response, the perfect broom for a Keeper. Ginny finally decided on a Streaking Comet 2002, which, though not as fast or maneuverable as Harry's Firebolt, was built more sturdily to hold up better under the greater abuse and physical contact a Chaser usually experienced. They returned late in the afternoon to the Burrow and spent the rest of the evening breaking in their new brooms.

--

The next morning, as Harry and Hermione returned from their sparring session with Saldar, they stepped into the kitchen at the Burrow and heard the loud exclamations of Molly and Arthur Weasley. Concerned, they both rushed to the table to see what was wrong. Arthur and Molly wheeled to look at Harry as he approached and then looked back down to the paper sitting on their table.

Hermione whispered, “Oh my!” as Harry looked over her shoulder to read the headline.

“Boy-Who-Lived Endorses Arthur Weasley for Minister of Magic!

Speaking before a large public gathering yesterday debating various candidates for the vacant position of Minister of Magic, Harry Potter strongly recommended the appointment of Arthur Weasley, currently serving as Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. A long serving official within the Ministry, who according to sources within the Ministry is widely popular, it is speculated he would have risen much higher if not for various personal differences with former Minister Fudge. Furthermore, Mr. Potter argued that Mr. Weasley's experience in fighting with those who opposed You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters (see accompanying article examining Arthur Weasley's actual participation in the final battle) demonstrated not only his tremendous courage, but also his ability to recognize and face current challenges to the wizarding world. Anticipating counter arguments challenging his fitness for the job, Mr. Potter explained that Mr. Weasley's past actions also revealed his understanding of what the Ministry needed to do in order to meet the challenges of the present and avoiding repeating past mistakes in the future. Mr. Potter finished his ringing endorsement by stating emphatically, “I'd vote for Arthur Weasley for Minister of Magic in a heartbeat.” If that statement does not seem persuasive enough, Mr. Potter expressed his complete confidence in Arthur Weasley when he declared simply, “I would trust him with my life.” There can be no higher compliment than that.

What effect Mr. Potter's public declaration of support will have on the deliberations of the Wizengamot remain to be seen. Arthur Weasley is not currently a member of the Wizengamot, though sources within the assembly insist there have already been motions raised to make him a member shortly…”

Harry's face glowed red with embarrassment. “I am so sorry Arthur. I never meant to put you in this position. I was just talking with some friends from Hogwarts yesterday—I can't believe all of this ended up in the paper, there must have been some reporter eavesdropping or something. I…uhh…”

Molly gave him a huge hug, much to his surprise. “It was very sweet of you to say those things, Harry.”

Harry felt Arthur's hand on his shoulder, “I appreciate your faith in me Harry. It means a lot to me. Thank you.”

“You're…you're not upset. But surely there will be all kinds of reporters harassing you now, and it's all my fault…”

“Oh, don't worry about it Harry. I'm sure all of this excitement will blow over very quickly. You know how fickle the press is. This is just a way of selling papers for most of them.”

Arthur was interrupted by several owls arriving and tapping on the back window. Surprised, he moved to open the window. As soon as it was open, another half dozen owls forced their way inside as well. Molly helped him sort through the incoming mail, most were requests for interviews with a variety of wizarding newspapers. One rather large envelope had the seal from the Wizengamot embossed on the front. His hands shaking slightly, Arthur opened the envelope and read it slowly, with Molly looking on, tears glistening in her eyes. He turned to look at her and announced in an awed tone, “They've just extended me an invitation to join the Wizengamot. I'm to meet with Dumbledore and several of the other leaders this afternoon at two to inform them of my decision.” Molly shrieked in delight and gave him a huge hug.

“Oh, it's about time you finally got your due recognition, Arthur! I'm so proud of you!”

Harry tried to leave quietly, with Hermione tiptoeing behind him, but their escape was cut off as Ron, Ginny, Charlie and Bill burst into the room wondering what was happening. Once they knew, the boys roared their approval and Ginny shrieked in excitement as well. Many hugs later, Molly insisted they should have a celebratory breakfast. Bill went to notify the twins and tell them to come home to share in the fantastic news. Harry simply shrugged at Hermione, still in disbelief at this latest turn of events.

--

Joining the Weasleys for dinner, Harry and Hermione got to hear the full account of Arthur's visit at the Wizengamot. Apparently the vote to make him a member had been nearly unanimous, and according to Dumbledore, there was a growing consensus in favor of appointing Arthur as the new Minister of Magic. The family talked happily late into the night.

The next morning was typically chaotic for the Weasley household, since Ron and Ginny had to finish their packing. Hermione was already packed of course, and Harry had already dropped his things off at Hogwarts, since his house was just outside of Hogsmeade. That afternoon, after the packing was done, all of the Weasleys, except for Arthur who was deeply involved in a number of meetings and interviews, joined Harry for a final Quidditch game and feast at the Burrow before returning to Hogwarts. It was a long and very enjoyable evening for everyone and nobody was hurt too badly during the wild match that ensued. Molly finally called it a night, since they had to be early to King's Crossing to catch the train. She had to remind Ginny and Ron several times that they needed to set particularly good examples tomorrow since they were both prefects now.

The following morning, Molly was true to her word, and the family arrived very early at King's Crossing. Harry hung out with the twins, cracking jokes, while Hermione, Ron, and Ginny helped direct arriving students that needed assistance.

“Look at them—so helpful,” muttered Fred in disgust.

“Harry, you're our only hope,” lamented George.

“Actually, I think I've got Ron convinced to help me pull a few pranks,”

Just then a soft, feminine voice shocked them into stillness. “I hope you have some jokes left for me, boys. I'm sure Harry has already made arrangements with the two of you to provide him with the necessary materials to…shall we say…advertise your products. Let me assure all three of you, that if I don't receive my fair share of joke products—free of course—that I will have no choice but to dock points, hand out some detentions, and turn the lot of you in to Hermione and Mum,” she threatened quietly. All three turned slowly to look at Ginny with a wide, mischievous grin on her face.

Fred was the first to recover from the initial shock and gave her a huge hug. “Oh Gin, you don't know what this means…”

“We can finally rest at night, knowing that…” continued George.

“the honourable name of Weasley will continue…”

“to be remembered with laughter by most…”

“and fear by the Slytherins…”

“within the halls of Hogwarts.”

Smiling, Ginny replied. “If you two are quite done now, you've just reminded me of one of my most important duties. I think I see some Slytherins that need a few points docked.”

“It brings a tear to one's eye,” began Fred.

“You teach them, you nurture them, you do all that you can for them,”

“And all you can do is hope that they too can go forth and carry on the time-honoured legacy of the Weasleys.”

Trying to hold in his laughter, Harry managed to spit out, “I don't think this is exactly the kind of legacy your parents envisioned for Ginny.”

“Too true, Harry, but we can't”

“let her future be restricted by the limited vision of our parents.”

Harry could control his laughter no longer. Finally, gasping for air, he replied to the twins, “Well, it seems I will certainly have plenty of help, if not some competition this year. I trust you'll inform me of all the stuff you pass on to her—I'd hate for either of you or her to think that you could pull one over on me.”

With a much too innocent face, Fred quickly protested.

Harry smiled and saw through the lie easily. “Because what goes around comes around. Just keep that in mind.”

“Oooh, Fred, I think we've just been challenged. I think the Boy-Who-Pranks thinks he can get us. Ohh noo!”

Laughing again, Harry replied again. “Oh, stuff it you two. I better go say goodbye to your Mum before I catch the train.” Harry trotted over to Molly and gave her a huge hug, and then chatted with Charlie and Bill before running over to board the train. With all of his friends making their prefect rounds, Harry found himself a compartment at the back of the train all to himself. He waved goodbye again as the train pulled out, feeling slightly depressed at being all alone.

A few minutes later the door burst open. Harry's wand was already out and pointing at the thin, silver-blonde haired wizard who sauntered through the door and sat down easily across from Harry.

“Always greet people with a wand in their face, do you Potter?” drawled Malfoy easily. “Not very friendly for someone of your reputation.”

“Make yourself at home, Malfoy. Can't find any first years to pick on?” teased Harry.

“Nah, Mu—Granger and the Weasleys are patrolling the corridors. The Weasel in particular seems to have it in for me.”

“What, not a prefect any more? What happened?”

“I guess the old geezer has finally flipped his lid. Check this out Potter.” Malfoy tossed something shiny across to Harry.

Harry caught it easily and looked down. His eyes widened as he read the words Head Boy inscribed on the silver badge.

Harry just laughed. “So I guess you get to move out of the Slytherin dungeons, ehh? Congratulations.”

With a hurt look on his face, Malfoy replied, “Hey, those dungeons are very cozy and…”

“slimey and drafty. Yeah, wonderful place to sleep.”

Draco almost smiled and then looked at Harry sharply. “How do you know what they're like?”

Harry just smiled.

“So how was your summer? Did you stay with Snape?”

“Yeah. It was decent all things considered. Not as exciting as your own, of course.”

“Yeah,” replied Harry. “Uhh, how is your mom doing?”

Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily. “Oh, so Weasley spilled the beans, eh? Had to go to Potter and tell him…”

Harry looked at Draco with a look of confusion. “What are you talking about? Ron didn't say anything about running into you, let alone having a conversation with you.”

Draco stopped and looked at Harry with surprise. “Er, nothing. Never mind Potter. She's fine, as good as can be expected.”

“OK,” replied Harry slowly as he tried to think of something to do besides swap more idle chatter. “Do you play Wizard's Chess?”

“Am I a wizard, Potter?”

“Do you really want me to answer that? Let me go borrow a set—I'll be back in a minute.” Harry disappeared and then reappeared a few moments later with a board and a large, ornate box in hand. Opening the box, Harry asked with a smirk, “Red and gold or green and black?”

“I better take the red and gold pieces—you've probably done something to the green and black ones.” He reached out to grab a pawn only to have it explode loudly in his fingers.

Harry was beside himself with laughter. “Good thing you didn't reach for the bishop or the knight.”

Waving his wand and muttering Finite Incantatum, Malfoy sneered, “Funny, Potter, real funny. Just wait until I mop up the board with you.”

Three hours later, they were in the middle of their fifth game. They were currently tied at two games a piece, but Malfoy had a decided edge in this game, having already taken both of Harry's bishops and one of his knights to a measly three pawns that Harry had captured. The friendly bantering had continued between the two almost nonstop the entire trip.

“You're much better at this than I expected, Potter. Usually only Slytherins or Ravenclaws do very well at wizard chess. So which Ravenclaw taught you—no, let me guess. Cho Chang?”

“Actually, it was Ron.”

“Ron? I've never heard of a Ron in Ravenclaw.”

“No, Ron Weasley.”

“The Weasel? Shut up Potter. Next you'll be telling me that he's actually better than you.”

“Oh, but he is. He could beat either one of us in his sleep.”

“The Weasel? Beat me at Wizard's chess? While the thought is slightly amusing, I also find it highly offensive. I would never lose to…”

“Didn't he thrash you in five straight games last Christmas at Grimmauld Place before the pieces stopped playing for you?”

“Shut up right now Potter—I will not have your delusional fantasies messing up the order of my universe right now.”

Harry just grinned as they played in silence for a few more minutes.

“You know, Potter, I was just thinking that wherever the Head Boy's room is, maybe it will be right next to the Head Girl's room, you know what I mean? With any luck it will be Hannah Abbot or that delicious looking Ravenclaw—what's her name?”

Harry had suddenly turned rather pale.

“What?” asked Draco and then he whitened slightly too as he realized. “Oh no! Don't tell me. Please don't tell me that Granger is the Head Girl. Oh of all the damn rotten luck…”

“Well, it's nice to know that you're looking forward to working with me, Malfoy. And before you get too excited Malfoy, or too worried Harry, they keep those rooms apart, even if they happen to be from the same house. And since you're in Slytherin, your room will be down in the dungeons somewhere and my room will be up by Gryffindor's common room somewhere. Haven't either of you ever read Hogwart's, A History?”

“Ahh, the dulcet tones of your siren, Potter.”

“And just what the bloody hell is going on here? That's my set! What is Malfoy doing with the red and gold pieces?”

“Don't overanalyze that Weasel. Besides, even you should be able to put the clues together and recognize a game of Wizard's Chess when you see one. Though I would hardly call this a game—a rout, a slaughter, or a massacre, would be more accurate. And here Potter was saying that you're the one that taught him—no wonder I've been cleaning his clock for the past three hours.”

“Hey, we're tied,” protested Harry.

“And I absolutely pounded on you last Christmas…”

Malfoy brushed Harry's protests aside with the wave of a hand and simply ignored Ron. “Yeah, I took pity on you and gave you two games, Potter. Wouldn't do to shatter the Boy-Who-Lived-but-Can't-Play-Wizard's-Chess-to-Save-His-Own-Life's confidence over a mere game, would it? Well, now that your entire fan club is here Potter, I think I'll take my leave before I overstay my welcome,” sneered Malfoy.

“Too late for that, Ferret,” muttered Ron darkly.

Malfoy stood up to leave.

“Why weren't you at the prefects' meeting? You were supposed to help with the students and patrol…”

“Yeah, yeah. You and the Weasleys had it under control. I was here protecting the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry snorted and Hermione shot Maloy an angry glance. “Well, step out in the hall with me—there were a few notices that you need to know about.”

“What?! You can't go out there alone with…with Malfoy!” barked Ron.

Hermione glared daggers at him, Harry simply shook his head, Ginny rolled her eyes, and Malfoy just laughed. “Honestly, Weasel. How thick are you? If I really had it in for Granger or Potter, I could have just let my cousin kill them last year!” Rubbing his cheek absentmindedly, he continued, “Besides, it's not like Granger can't stand up for herself, and bloody Potter here could probably incinerate me on the spot if I tried anything stupid.” Malfoy chuckled again and motioned elegantly for Hermione to precede him out of the compartment. He nodded at both Harry and Ginny briefly as he left, “Potter, Weasley.” Before he closed the door, he turned back and added, “By the way, I think you'll enjoy the new DADA instructor this year.” Then he left laughing.

Fuming, Ron sat heavily in his seat. Harry turned to Ginny to see if she wanted to finish the game. Hermione returned later and she chatted with Ginny and Harry as the three of them took turns playing chess until the train arrived at Hogwarts. Ron sat sullenly for most of the trip. Disembarking from the train, they moved quickly to find a carriage. Harry noticed many of the students looking in awe at the thestrals resting in the traces waiting to pull the carriages to Hogwarts. Harry then heard a pair of thundering footsteps and a booming voice calling out his name.

He spun around to be caught in a bone crushing hug by Hagrid. When he finally convinced Hagrid to put him down, they all chatted with him for a few minutes before Hagrid began gathering the first years with their help.

With the first years on the way, they settled into one of the carriages and watched for the first sight of Hogwarts. Minutes later they were walking across the field towards the large oak doors of the castle. Slipping inside, they followed the crush of students towards the Great Hall in anticipation of the Sorting Ceremony and the Welcoming Feast. Harry had never felt happier coming back to Hogwarts.

--

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by his friends once again, Harry felt his spirit soaring. Listening more than talking, he tried to find out how everyone else's summer had been. The Great Hall slowly quieted down as Professor McGonagall led in the first years to be sorted. Harry couldn't believe how many there seemed to be, or how small they looked. And then another small group stepped forward, but these larger students did not appear to be eleven years old, most of them seemed much older. Professor McGonagall introduced them as a group of transfer students. Harry's jaw dropped in amazement, there were several students from both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, but also schools in China, India, South Africa, Brazil and the United States. He glanced over at Hermione who looked excited, but not surprised.

“Oh, won't this be a fabulous opportunity this year to get to know students from other parts of the world?” Then her enthusiastic grin turned to a scowl. Harry turned to see what had set her off, and realized that every other boy in the school was staring at the same student. A willowy thin girl, with long, silver hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her gaze met Harry's and she gave a little wave with a dainty hand. Harry could feel his cheeks redden and he quickly looked away. Hearing Hermione mutter under her breath, he focused on the table in front of him, rather then risk meeting eye contact again with either of the two girls.

When her name was called, Gabrielle Delacour stepped lightly to the stool and waited as McGonagall placed the hat on her head. Harry glanced around at the various tables where nearly every male eye continued to rest on the girl in the chair. After a long pause, the Hat announced Ravenclaw and their table erupted in cheers as if they had won the House Cup. Boys of nearly every age from every other House were shooting angry glares at all of the Ravenclaws.

Harry then heard a number of sighs of relief from several girls at the Gryffindor table over the continued grumbling of Hermione. He braved a glance at Hermione, but she was still glowering at Gabriella's back as she sat at the Ravenclaw table, where a number of boys had tried to provide an open space for her to sit in. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and thought softly, “What's wrong, Mione?”

“Isn't it obvious, Harry? All that little witch has to do is toss her hair over her shoulder and every boy in the school starts drooling. Even you were staring at her. And then she waved at you and…”

“What? You're not jealous are you?”

Her fiery glance met his and he paused for a moment, thinking fast. He tightened his grip around her shoulders and stared back into her eyes. “Mione, you know I love you. There isn't anyone else I'm interested in—there never could be. I was just surprised at seeing her, that's all. It's been two and a half years since the Tri-Wizard Tournament after all.” She seemed to relax a little after that and he continued. “Look, you're more beautiful than her in so many different ways. You have absolutely nothing to worry about, Miss Hermione Granger.” He then pulled out her right hand and turned the palm over and traced the faint scar that the Sword of Gryffindor had left there.

She gave him a big hug. “Thanks, Harry. I don't know why I was being so silly.” They had missed the rest of the sorting ceremony and Dumbledore was standing to make his yearly announcements.

“Welcome, welcome, old friends and new, to another year at Hogwarts. It is my great pleasure to thank all of the transfer students who have joined us this year. It is my hope that in making new friends, we can help strengthen the bonds that unite the magical world.

Now I am afraid that I have several more mundane announcements to make. First, the Forbidden Forest remains just that—forbidden to all students, even the seventh years,” he added, glancing at the Gryffindor table. “Mr. Filch has been kind enough to post a revised and extended list of banned items at Hogwarts. In addition to all the items on the list last year, everything sold by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has been prohibited.” Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily.

There have been a few teaching changes as well. Unfortunately, Mr. Lupin will no longer be able to serve as our DADA instructor this year.”

Harry and most of the Gryffindors looked up at the Professors' table in surprise, because Remus Lupin was seated there, between McGonagall and Hagrid.

“He will be visiting from time to time, and has graciously offered his assistance to some of the various clubs this year.” Dumbledore looked directly at Harry and winked. Or so he thought.

“I would like to introduce our new Professor of Potions, some of the older students may recall her last visit to Hogwarts, Miss Fleur Delacour.” A slightly older, more elegant version of her sister Gabriella emerged from a side door by the Professors' table and strode gracefully to an empty chair near Dumbledore. She bowed perfectly before the keen glances of every male in the school.

“Damn veela,” hissed Hermione. Harry thought he heard the same sentiment echoed by other girls at the table as he grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Then a sobering thought struck him.

“Mione, if Fleur is now teaching Potions and Remus won't be teaching DADA, you don't think that Dumbledore would appoint…” Hermione quickly looked up with a look of surprise on her face and they both turned quickly back to Dumbledore.

“Welcome to the staff, Miss Delacour. Now I would like to introduce the new DADA instructor, a wizard who really needs no introduction, Professor Snape.”

The Slytherins, led by Draco Malfoy, were on their feet, cheering wildly. The other three tables looked on in shock with only a few students clapping hesitantly. Eyes all along the Gryffindor table slowly turned in amazement to see Harry clapping loudly, and Hermione only slightly less eagerly. Looks of stunned disbelief passed among the Gryffindor table as Ron slowly pounded his head on the table.

“I could have been with that Goddess in Potions, but now I'm stuck with that hellspawn Snape for another year in DADA. What did I do wrong? What did I do?”

“Oh shut up Ron!” snapped Hermione. “I think he might be a very good DADA teacher,” insisted Hermione a little uncertainly.

“You think?” doubted Ron. “That has been you attending all those horrible Potions classes with us all these years, right?”

“Well, I hope he'll be a better DADA teacher than he was in Potions,” stated

Hermione fervently.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who was nodding his head in approval and then at Snape, who was looking at him oddly. It seemed to be an odd assortment of eagerness, excitement, and satisfaction. And was that amusement? Or malice? He couldn't tell for sure, reading Snape had always been a near impossible task. His focus returned to Dumbledore as he spoke once again.

“I am afraid I have one final announcement before we can eat. We will not have a regular Quidditch season this year.” The Great Hall erupted with outrage and protest. Harry and most of the Gryffindor table were on their feet, with a vast majority of the other students as well. Dumbledore raised his hands, calling for silence and the roar slowly subsided. “Instead, we will have two special Quidditch tournaments this year. The first, played over a special three-day weekend in the third week of October will determine the winner of the Quidditch cup for the year. The captain of the winning team will work with several Professors to assemble a special Quidditch team to represent Hogwarts in a special tournament against the best Quidditch players from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. We will play Beauxbatons at their school in November, and then play at Durmstrang in December. In March we will host Durmstrang, and then Beauxbatons will come here to finish the tournament in May. Special arrangements have been made to provide transportation for all the students, who have permission from their parents or guardians and who wish to attend, to go and watch the matches.”

The cheers that followed were truly deafening. Dumbledore smiled brightly and amidst the general chaos signaled for the food to appear. Many of the students were still cheering as the Professors began eating. Harry cheerfully loaded his plate, listening as Ron excitedly began discussing Quidditch strategies. Hermione ate more thoughtfully, occasionally glancing up at the Professors' table and at the other students. As people began finishing the wonderful feast, she kicked Ron under the table and motioned with her head to follow her. Harry leaned forward and whispered, “What's the password?”

“Victory!” she replied. Harry smiled. How appropriate.

“Come on runts! Follow me if you don't want to get lost in the dungeons with the trolls,” bellowed Ron.

“Stop scaring them!” hissed Hermione as Ginny stood up to help as well. Harry leaned back at his bench, smiling as he watched his friends herd the first years and the new transfer students to their dormitories. Finishing off another slice of pie, he then wandered up to the Professors' table past the rapidly thinning crowd of students. He visited briefly with Hagrid and Lupin.

“I thought you liked teaching DADA, Remus. What happened?”

“I will be working on a few, uhh, special projects over the next year that would not allow me to continue teach here at Hogwarts regularly, much as I would like to do.” Harry nodded, having suspected as much. He then spoke with McGonagall for a few minutes and then Dumbledore. Dumbledore told him they were still working out a few of the details in his class schedule. Fleur said hello and spoke with him for a few minutes. Her time at Gringotts and her private lessons with Bill had apparently paid off—her English had improved greatly. Harry then moved down the table to congratulate Snape on his recent appointment.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. I hope you will find some of the material I plan on covering challenging enough for you this year.” Snape had an odd smile on his face.

Harry replied, “I'm sure it will be, sir. Good night.” Harry gave a wave, and then walked out of the Great Hall, up to the Gryffindor common rooms. It certainly was going to be a different year, he thought. After giving the password, he walked into the common room and saw a familiar looking head of brown hair sitting in a sofa by the fireplace. He fell easily into the spot next to Hermione and they watched the fire die down slowly.

--

Next Chapter: First Week of School

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Ch 23 First Week of School

Harry and Hermione decided the Room of Requirements would be an excellent place to continue their early morning training with Saldar. Afterwards, they went down to breakfast where McGonagall and the other Heads of House were handing out class schedules. Hermione's eyes lit up when she got hers and Ron simply groaned as he read through his. Harry was quiet as he browsed through his list.

Passing by him, McGonagall whispered, “If you have any questions, Potter, come see me after breakfast.” Harry simply nodded as he continued to study his schedule.

Leaning over, Hermione looked at his list and asked, “What is it?”

According to his schedule most of his classes were held on only three days. Harry had Potions on Tuesday and Thursday mornings with Hermione. He also had double DADA on Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons, along with Ron and Hermione. Wednesday mornings he had an hour with Professor Sprout and then two hours with Dumbledore before lunch. In the afternoon, he had an hour and a half each with McGonagall, Flitwick, and Winklett, who still taught Muggle science. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday had the following description—Training with Hunt. If not working with Hunt, you may attend the regularly scheduled Magical Creatures or History of Magic class.

Harry looked at Hermione. “I guess I know what I'll be doing with all of that free time I won't be using to sleep,” he chuckled. “You are going to help me organize some of this studying so I can play Quidditch, right Mione?”

Still staring at his schedule, she replied “Of course,” absentmindedly. “I hope Hunt doesn't think he can train you every single day—you will have to rest occasionally, and I don't mean just at night. I think we should go talk to Professor McGonagall right now.”

“Relax, Mione. Let's finish breakfast first. Then I'll go talk to her.” After breakfast, Ron and Hermione headed off to class while Harry found McGonagall at the Professors' table. She led him into the side room of the Great Hall and began explaining.

“I understand that it looks like a very full schedule, Harry. You will take Potions and DADA with the other students. Professor Dumbledore and I both felt that it would be very good for you and the other students to be in those classes. The Wednesday classes will be mostly independent study classes, similar to what you did last year. Only not so extreme. Albus and I have had several discussions with Hunt and made it very clear that he is not to train you four days a week every week. We simply blocked out that time because there might be occasional exercises that will take that long, but they will be rare and certainly not every week. If you are not training with Mr. Hunt, then you are free to use the time to attend either Hagrid's class or Professor Binn's class if you wish, use it for study time, practice Quidditch, or just enjoy the weekend with your classmates. I trust Miss Granger will help make sure you balance it properly.”

Harry grinned. “Right then. But what exactly will Mr. Hunt be teaching me?”

“You've fought beside him and haven't guessed yet? Mr. Hunt was one of the most accomplished Grey Warlocks ever.” At Harry's look of puzzlement she explained. “The Grey Warlocks are the American equivalent of the British Aurors. He was a member of the most elite group of American Aurors, the DOGs, the Dark Ops Group. With the Ministry of Magic, as well as the Department of Magical Justice and the Division of Aurors, in disarray right now, there really is nobody else available to begin your Auror training and we saw no reason to put it off another year. Mr. Hunt has agreed to serve as a special instructor for your Auror training, Potter. Remus will come and assist at times, and has offered to help when he can with the DA club, if you wish to continue that as well.”

Harry whistled in disbelief. “Wow. Do you think I should continue the DA?”

“That is entirely up to you, Potter. Wait a week or so to see how everything else is going to see if you will have the time to do it and ask around to see if there is interest in continuing it. I imagine there will be. Don't be afraid to ask for help with it either, like you did last year. But most importantly, I do not want you pushing yourself beyond your limits like last year, Harry.”

Harry glanced at her quickly. He couldn't remember if she had ever addressed him directly by his first name.

“I do not want a repeat of last year's events. I do not want you to push yourself so hard that you feel you need to resort to a Time Turner or other means as a way of keeping up with your studies and training. If all of this gets to be too much to bear, please come and talk to either myself or Albus. We will then readjust your schedule accordingly. We want you to learn, but we also want you to enjoy your last year here with us Harry.”

Her eyes looked kind of moist and Harry thanked her. He then asked where he might find Hunt, since that was the only class he had listed for the day. She smiled and told him to check down at Hagrid's hut.

When he arrived at Hagrid's door, he knocked on it and entered in response to Hagrid's bellow to come in. His eyes adjusted quickly and he easily spotted Hagrid and Samuel sitting at a table, Samuel dwarfed by Hagrid's large size.

“Ah, here's my star pupil to be,” laughed Samuel. “Hagrid has just been telling me the most amazing stories about some of your exploits, Potter.”

Blushing slightly, Harry insisted, “He's probably exaggerating. I've had a lot of good luck, and a lot of help from friends in doing everything I've done.”

Samuel looked at him shrewdly. “It's good to be modest about one's abilities. Keeps you from getting overconfident and getting yourself or others killed. I'm here to help you learn to rely less on luck, Potter. Today will be an easy day. We'll just take a casual walk through the Forest so I can get a better sense of your skills. Then the real fun will begin on Friday.”

Harry grinned mischievously. These lessons with Samuel might be more fun than he expected. “Who would you like to visit first, sir? Aragog and the spiders, Grawp the giant, Bane and the centaurs, or should we just chase some of the thestrals or one of the unicorns?”

Samuel's eyes widened slightly and he glanced at Hagrid, who was chuckling. “We'll see Potter. And call me Hunt. Sir makes me sound like some old mummified professor. And leave the robes here. Got running shoes on—good. I hope you like to run.”

“I prefer to fly, but” Harry thought of the intense conditioning regimen Saldar had been putting him and Hermione through over the summer, “I've done a bit of running as well.”

“Great, let's go.”

--

Dinner was nearly half over and Hermione kept glancing around the Great Hall, looking for some sign of Harry.

“Relax, Hermione. You're making me dizzy,” complained Ron as he shoved another mouthful of potatoes in his mouth. “Hergy wll be hrre somhn.”

“Close your mouth when you eat, you're disgusting!” snapped Hermione irritably. “I didn't see Harry at lunch, did you?” Ron shook his head as he finished off his drink.

One of the doors swung open and in walked a very tired, dirty, scratched, wild haired wizard. He trudged over to Hermione and Ron, who both stood up to greet him eagerly.

“What happened to you? Where have you been?” asked Hermione in a concerned voice as she released Harry from a hug.

“Food. Need food,” grunted Harry, sitting down heavily. He piled his plate twice as high as normal and dug in eagerly. Hermione and Ron exchanged curious glances and finished eating while Harry took the edge off his hunger.

Resting for a moment, Harry complained. “This was supposed to be the easy day with Hunt. He said a casual walk through the Forest.”

“The Forbidden Forest?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah, apparently it's not out of bounds for Hunt and me. After ten miles of jogging, he ran me through a series of tests to see how well the other Aurors had trained me. The guy's a maniac! He's complete nutters! When he caught me using my dragonform to turn invisible and track him, he came up with a new series of exercises to `push me harder' as he explained it. Do you have any idea how fast four foot long dragonflies can fly?”

“Big dragonflies, Harry? That doesn't sound too bad,” chuckled Ron.

“No? You think furry, hairy, creepy crawling eight legged bloodsucking spiders are worse?”

Harry smiled slightly as Ron went slighty white in the face.

“You're right. Monster dragonflies aren't that bad. It's their poisonous fangs and paralyzing stingers they use when they catch you that's slightly unnerving. You should have seen him. He was enjoying himself I tell you. He's mental!”

“Well at least you don't have him again until Friday,” said Hermione, though she looked concerned.

“Yeah, never thought I'd be looking forward to going to Potions or one of Snape's classes. But they couldn't possibly be any tougher than today.”

“Yeah, Potions,” murmured Ron with a very happy grin on his face.

“Oh, shut up already Ron. I can't believe McGonagall let you and half of the other Gryffindor boys back into that class! You idiots only want to go and drool at that veela for a couple of hours a week.”

“That's not true. We realized the important intellectual development we were missing by depriving ourselves of our Potions lessons.”

“None of you would have begged McGonagall to get back in there if Snape were still teaching the class,” hissed Hermione.

“Of course not. He did not help us develop intellectually.”

“Like Fleur is going to.”

“Honestly Hermione. I would have thought you would have been the first one to give a new professor a chance. I remember most of the Gryffindor boys were very forgiving of the numerous faults of Gilderoy Lockhart which for some reason or another none of the girls seemed to recognize.”

“Good grief, Ron! Give it a rest already! I was twelve years old!”

“That's how old this argument feels,” commented Harry as he refilled his plate. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione let him finish eating in peace. Hermione went to the library and Ron and Harry headed to the Gryffindor common rooms. As they were walking, he asked Ron what the password was for the prefect's bathroom.

“Why?”

“Because I feel like I've been hit by about twenty bludgers. I think a nice soak in the pool might be just the ticket.”

Ron smiled and whispered the password. “Fleur Delacour.”

Harry laughed out loud. “I take it Hermione didn't pick the password.”

Ron laughed. “Nope. In fact, she said she's not going to use it until we change the password. Which, by the way, I don't see happening anytime soon. Ginny thinks it's hilarious.”

They gave the password and entered the Gryffindor common room.

Harry smiled. “Ginny would. So who is she seeing now?”

Ron scowled. “Nobody that I know of. And it better stay that way.” He then stomped up the stairs towards their room.

Ginny looked up from her table where she had been writing an essay and came over with a concerned look on her face.

“What's up with Ron the grumpy old troll?”

“Oh, I was teasing him about who your latest boyfriend might be.”

“OH!” she exclaimed.

Harry didn't notice her strange tone but just went on. “When I asked him he just said nobody, and that it better stay that way.”

“Oh,” replied Ginny in a much more relaxed tone.

“What?” he asked, looking at her strangely.

“Nothing. I better get back to my essay. I can't believe they assigned homework on the first day of classes.”

“Yeah, see you later,” added Harry and headed up to his rooms to get a change of clothes.

Later, as he relaxed in front of the fire, he slowly dozed off to sleep after a wonderful warm bath helped him work out some of his aching muscles. A light kiss woke him up instantly, and he gazed momentarily at the beautiful brown eyes that had captured his own.

“Rough first day, huh Harry?”

“Well, it just got much better now that you're here.”

She sat down and snuggled in next to him and they enjoyed each other's company for a few minutes before heading to their respective bedrooms.

--

After training with Saldar, Harry and Hermione joined Ron for breakfast and then all three headed off to Potions together. It took them some time to find the new classroom, since it was no longer in the dungeons.

Instead, it was held in a large classroom on the third floor with lots of bright windows. Hermione looked around when they entered, trying to hide the fact that she was deeply impressed by the very orderly arrangement and variety of potion components in the room. The three of them found a table together in the middle of the room and sat down as the rest of the students filed in. What had been a fairly small class last year had nearly tripled in size, and probably four fifths of the students were male. Hermione snorted in disgust as the room slowly filled.

The back door opened and everyone except Harry and the girls in the class swiveled in their seats to appreciate the enchanting beauty of their instructor. She sauntered down the middle aisle of the classroom, smiling widely at the staring students and ignoring the angry gazes of the girls. Harry glanced up as she passed, and then quickly returned his gaze to the Potions book resting on his desk. He tried to ignore Hermione's angry muttering.

With a flourish, Fleur spun at the head of the classroom and addressed the students. “I will not bother reading the class roll today, because many of you probably won't be here again with me on Thursday.”

Hermione's eyes snapped up towards the front of the room. Harry raised his eyes as well, paying close attention.

“Some of you here truly wish to learn the art of brewing potions. And I am here to instruct you in that craft. The rest of you are here for much less noble or enlightening reasons.” Her voice had taken a flinty edge to it, and her soft eyes looked suddenly hard as she looked around the room, matching the gaze of every student. Most of the boys quickly averted their eyes.

“Because the creation of a potion is such a challenging art, demanding complete and total concentration, there is no room for other distractions. The simplest error can cause horrible side effects, poisoning, and even death. Therefore today, we will begin learning how to create the Anti-Glamour potion, a version of which I will now demonstrate for you.”

Taking a goblet off of her desk which had a thin mist rising from it, Fleur raised it to her lips and drank deeply. She then turned away from the class to place the goblet back on her desk. When she turned around, Harry noticed something rather odd. Her hair had lost that magical silver sheen to it. It was still pretty, but appeared to be just a light blonde colour. Her sparkling blue eyes, while still beautiful, did not seem to pull you deep into their depths. He thought he noticed a faint scar on a cheek, where he had thought had been only perfectly smooth skin. Her ears were nice, but a little small for her head he thought. And her nose seemed a little too thin. She was still beautiful, but not overwhelmingly so.

“Now can anyone tell us how the potion I just took functions?” Seeing Hermione's hand fly into the air, she called on her.

“Well, an Anti-Glamour potion is intended to help the drinker resist certain types of charms and enchantments, usually those involving physical attraction. The potion you took, seems to work in reverse, negating the effects of, well, your veela heritage, on others.”

“Excellent uhh Miss Granger, isn't it? I thought I recognized you. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now unfortunately for many in the class today, I find that in order for many of my students to keep from blowing themselves up or poisoning their partners, I need to drink an Anti-Glamour potion each time I teach class. Though some of you appear to possess the mental discipline to resist the considerable charms of a veela.” When she said this last sentence, she looked directly at Harry, who blushed slightly. “This year we will be focusing on learning a variety of powerful healing and protective potions, ones that could prove to be extremely useful for a number of you. If that does not appeal to you, or if I no longer appeal to you, then by all means do not waste my time or yours by coming back on Thursday. Do not worry, I will not hold it against you if you choose not to continue. This will be a very difficult class. Now, please open to page 384 and read through it twice before you even think about pulling out your cauldron.”

Ron rested his chin on his fists with his elbows on the table and slowly opened his book. Hermione glanced over at him with a triumphant look and whispered, “You were right Ron. I think she will help us develop intellectually.” She then began humming contentedly as she began reading through the chapter. In between them, Harry smiled contentedly. This might very well be his best year ever in Potions he thought. He knew he could definitely stand to learn more effective healing and protective potions.

Lunch seemed rather quiet, most of the seventh year Gryffindor boys were still in shock from Potions class, and many were getting very nervous about their upcoming class with Snape. Rising from the table, Harry quipped at Ron, “Well, it couldn't be any worse than Potions.”

“Don't say that Harry! You'll make it come true. It's Snape after all.” Most of the Gryffindors were therefore in low spirits as they trudged down to the dungeons where Snape's class would be held. It did not take long for the classroom to fill. It had been an extremely popular class last year, and nobody had known that Snape would be teaching it this year. The room was less smoky, but still cold and damp. Instead of potion components, there were a variety of objects and artifacts along one wall, and two enormous shelves of books on two of the others. A few moments after everyone had found a seat, Snape came bursting through the door. He quickly walked to the front and then spun around to glare condescendingly at the students.

“Doubtless many of you will drop this course now that you know that I am teaching it,” he seemed to glare at several Gryffindors. “And I have no doubt I will have to encourage others of you to leave who have neither the skill nor the intelligence to keep up with the rest of this class.” He paused and stared at several Hufflepuffs. When several of the Slytherins started laughing, Snape glared at them and they quickly quieted, uneasy at Snape's reaction. Usually he ignored any disturbances they made in his class. “For a variety of reasons, this year of students is behind where it should be at this point in your Hogwart's career. Over the course of your years here, you have had several incompetent instructors who have failed you miserably. However, I will accept no excuses. You will catch up to where you should be as a seventh year student and you will exceed the absurdly low expectations of the Ministry of Magic on the NEWT exams next summer or you will not pass this class. Are there any questions?”

Harry was sure it was a rhetorical question and Snape continued. “Now this class will consist of two parts. On Tuesdays we will meet here to learn about various types of dark creatures and how to defeat them. I hope you kept your books from the last six years because we will be reviewing everything you should have learned in the past six years over the next twelve weeks.” Gasps of astonishment broke out across the room. Even Hermione seemed somewhat startled at the amount of material to be covered. “On Thursdays, we will meet at a special room Professor Dumbledore has set up just for this class on the seventh floor. There we will be learning effective spells to use against dark wizards and then holding actual duels to allow you to gain firsthand experience in their use. This is a special room and is to be used only for the purposes of this class. Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to place several defensive wards of my own choosing to keep students from misusing it for other purposes. If you think you can get by them, by all means try. It will be my pleasure to send your homework assignments to the infirmary for you to finish.”

“Now if there are no further questions, get out a scroll and describe for me in a foot long essay how to distinguish a werewolf from a real wolf. This should be easy, I already assigned this class something very similar several years ago. Let's see who actually did the assignment. Begin.”

Harry grinned to himself as Hermione began scratching madly with her feather and Ron stared at his blank scroll with an angry scowl. This might prove to be a better class than he had originally thought, though he couldn't help but wonder why Snape had seemed to smile at him when he was explaining about the dueling component of the course.

--

After classes on Wednesday, he decided that it might actually be the easiest day of the week for him, despite having five classes scheduled for the day. With Dumbledore, he would continue to work on improving his mental control over his elemental magic and various mental exercises. With Winklett it was much the same. He would continue learning about Muggle science and keep trying to discover how he might use that knowledge in connection with his elemental magic. With Sprout, McGonagall, and Flitwick he would work on independent research projects with each, picking objects or spells of interest and learning about them and how to use them.

Delacour's class was much smaller on Thursday, though Harry was very pleased to see that both Neville and Ron had decided to stay in it. Not very many had. The three of them worked with Hermione on finishing their Anti-Glamour potions.

In Snape's class on Thursday, he learned why Snape had been smiling at him. When they arrived in the seventh floor corridor where the Room of Requirement was, the students waited for Snape to arrive even though many of them knew how to get into the room. Harry made a point to watch carefully to see what sort of protective wards Snape had placed on the room. He almost laughed when he saw how easy they would be for him to avoid, but managed to keep a straight face. Snape explained to them how to find the room, and when they finally entered, they found a room very similar to the one they normally met in for DA meetings. They began class by practicing the stunning spell and a simple shield spell to protect against it. Snape spent most of his time correcting students who had never attended a DA meeting. Harry hid a smile of pride when his fellow DA students easily performed the exercises Snape asked of them.

Glancing at Harry and several of the Gryffindors who were doing well, Snape remarked with a cold smile. “Obviously some of you have had some additional practice. Let's see how good you really are.” Snape motioned for the class to follow him through a door in one wall. Inside they found a slightly raised platform on which they could duel. “You will duel until you're either stunned or disarmed.” Glancing at the Slytherins, he added. “Today, you will use only the spells we have practiced today. Longbottom! Weasley! You two will duel first.” Ron and Neville glanced at each other nervously and stepped onto the stage. Snape tapped the edge of the stage and the students heard a light buzzing. “It is a shield spell that will prevent stray spells from hitting any of the students watching,” he explained. “Bow to each other. Now begin.”

Neville and Ron looked at each other for a moment and then launched their spells almost simultaneously. Both of their stunners missed as each ducked out of the way. Neville then cast a shield, anticipating another attack from Ron. Ron did launch an attack, but he aimed low instead of directly at Neville's chest. When the spell bounced off the shield, it shot low, right into Neville's right leg. Neville crumpled to the side, his leg completely numb. Ron smiled and raised his wand in victory.

“Next time, finish him off completely Weasley. He is down but not defeated—he can still stun you and defeat you. Five points from Gryffindor. Longbottom, next time wait a moment longer in order to anticipate where your opponent will target the spell. Until your own shield spell grows larger and stronger, you will need to place it carefully. Malfoy. Granger. You are next.” He waited for them to enter and then told them to begin.

Malfoy launched his stunner early but Hermione sidestepped it easily and cast a shield spell quickly as Malfoy's second attack came almost right after the first. She managed to deflect it back at Malfoy who dodged it easily but was unable to completely dodge Hermione's own stunner, which hit him in the shoulder, sending him flying backwards to the ground. Hermione took a step closer and aimed carefully when Malfoy whipped his wand in her general direction and shot out a single spark of blue light which then exploded in a bright, blinding flash. Hermione staggered back, raising one hand to her eyes and then she rolled quickly to her side, just as Malfoy launched a vicious cutting curse her way. Furious, Harry rushed towards the dueling area with his wand in hand when Snape's voice cracked through the air. “Do not interfere Potter. Let them finish it.” Harry glared angrily at Snape as several of the students looked around in concern as a low rumble began to shake dust from some of the walls. “Control your temper Potter, or I shall be forced to deduct points,” commanded Snape. Harry tried to unclench his jaw and take a deep breath to calm himself and rein in his growing anger and reached out to Hermione mentally.

“Let me help you. He has an unfair advantage right now, Mione.”

“I'm fine, Harry. I want to do this on my own, thanks. I can beat him myself.”

“Be careful.”

Hermione then pronounced Imago Mirroro. Suddenly, there were three exact images of Hermione, all moving in perfect synchronization. She heard Malfoy launching another spell and quickly raised another shield to protect herself. With the spell deflected, she then aimed her wand in Malfoy's general direction and cast a freezing charm on the floor, turning the general area around Malfoy into a crunchy ice. A blast of orange flame then struck Hermione and passed right through her shield. As the students gasped in shock, the image disappeared and the two remaining images aimed their wands again at Malfoy. “Battuerum Martel!” She commanded in a powerful voice. Though Malfoy raised his shield, the spell easily blasted through his shield and tossed him like a rag doll until he slammed against the far wall. He bounced off and landed awkwardly on the ground a few feet in front of Hermione. “Accio wand!” she shouted and his wand came flying into her left hand. Holding perfectly still and listening closely for his labored breathing, she then pointed both wands at Malfoy.

“Do you yield?” she asked in a dangerous voice that echoed throughout the room.

“A Malfoy would never surrender to a Mud…”

“STUPEFY!” Twin beams of light shot from both wands and pummeled into Malfoy's side. His body bounced again off the wall and then he fell flat on his face, completely unconscious.

“Brilliant Mione! Simply amazing!”

Ron and the other Gryffindors were cheering loudly but slowly quieted at Snape's glare. Snape lowered the shield and strode angrily towards the young Gryffindor. He held out his hand for Malfoy's wand while Hermione just stood there, looking in his general direction.

“Miss Granger, give me his wand.”

“Oh, sorry sir. Here.” She moved to hand him the wand, but it was readily apparent to everyone in the room that she couldn't see his hand.

“Miss Granger, are you still seeing blue stars?”

“Yes,” she replied. Harry surged forward in concern.

“She will be fine, Mr. Potter. The effects of that spell will wear off in a few minutes. That was an excellent duel Miss Granger, but I did tell you to only use the stunning and shield spells. Let's see—a mirror image illusion, a freezing charm, the Thundering Hammer spell, and a summoning charm. Twenty points from Gryffindor.” Some of the Slytherins laughed, while Ron and the other Gryffindors howled in protest. “Silence!” commanded Snape.

He walked over to Malfoy and with a foot rolled him over on his back and pointed his wand. “Enervate.” Malfoy opened his eyes groggily and smirked when he saw Snape towering above him. He stood uneasily and his smirk faded quickly as Snape began to speak.

“Mr. Malfoy. I thought my instructions had been very clear. You were to use the stunning spell and the shield spell only in the duels today. What part of that did you not understand?”

“But it was a duel,” he protested. “Anything goes in a duel.”

“Yes, in a real battle anything goes. But this was not a real battle. We have rules to protect students during duels here so that they can live long enough to learn how to survive in the real battles outside of this school.”

“But she was using illegal spells. Like that one she nearly knocked me out with…”

“Yes, and I have taken points from her house for it. However, she was justified in using any means to defend herself when you broke the rules of the duel by attempting to blind her.”

“But, Snape, I'm a…”

“You will address me as Professor Snape, Malfoy!” thundered Snape. “Five points from Slytherin. Another twenty points for the illegal spells you used in the duel. And fifty points for recklessly endangering the life of a fellow student. You will also serve a week's detentions with me. And I will have a long discussion with Dumbledore about whether you should remain Head Boy.”

“But I'm a Malfoy! You wouldn't dare!”

“Would you care to try me, Malfoy?” whispered Snape in a deadly serious voice.

Malfoy wisely closed his mouth but continued glaring at Snape with hate boiling in his eyes. Ron and the remaining Gryffindors alternated between complete shock at Snape's behavior and glaring dangerously at Malfoy. The Slytherins were mainly in shock. Harry was standing near Hermione, with one arm draped protectively around her waist. Snape told two of the Slytherins to escort Malfoy to the infirmary. In fact, Malfoy needed their assistance simply to walk out of the room. When they had left, Snape called forward several other pairs to duel.

Several minutes later Hermione had recovered her sight and Harry finally calmed down a bit. Snape looked over at her and then nodded slightly when she returned his gaze. Snape then called out Padma Patil. Harry looked up at the Ravenclaw and then heard his own name. “What? This isn't fair. There's no need for this. There's no way she can beat me—I don't want to humiliate her. Maybe if I drag it out a bit, let her last a few minutes, that way she's not embarrassed,” he thought to himself as he walked towards the platform. Her wand hand was shaking slightly and Harry felt bad for her. When Snape said begin, he simply created a shield spell to let her throw a spell or two at him. Then he countered with a stunner of his own, but aimed it at her side, instead of right at her.

“Stop!” thundered Snape's voice. “Five points from Gryffindor. If this is the best that you can do Potter, then perhaps you need some help focusing your attention.” Snape then called out the names of four more Ravenclaws, and indicated that they should join Harry and Padma inside the dueling area. “Now the five of you will work together to bring down Potter. Remember, no spells but stunners and shields.”

“What is Snape thinking? Five on one, no spells but stunners and shields? What does he expect me to do?” Harry shot a quick glance at Hermione and Ron, and then felt the adrenaline start to kick in. Harry balanced on his feet, trying to focus only on his five opponents, slowly tuning out everything else. Instead of encircling him, the five Ravenclaws had lined up basically in a wall in front of him. That would make it a little easier he thought. When he heard Snape pronounce the n sound in begin, he launched his first spell, a stunner, at the witch to his far left and then rolled hard to his right, coming up in a crouch. All through his roll, he had fired several more stunners in the general direction of his opponents and had managed to hit a second wizard. Three to one. He quickly raised a shield, as he crouched on one knee, and managed to deflect one spell back at one of the remaining witches. Two to one. The remaining two, slowly circled, trying to put some distance between each other and Harry, trying to get an angle where he couldn't watch both of them at the same time. Harry slowly moved towards one of the stunned students, allowing his remaining opponents to get on either side of him, where he could not keep his eyes on both of them. He turned slowly to his left, presenting Padma with the side of his back as an inviting target. She took the bait. As soon as he heard her begin the incantation, he dropped straight to the floor and twisted to land on his back, right beside the stunned body of one of the Ravenclaw students. He aimed his wand at Padma and stunned her before she had a chance to raise a shield. The remaining Ravenclaw wizard had just ducked out of the way of Padma's spell and was launching a stunner as Harry snapped his wand back across his body to aim at him. Harry felt the stunner hit the body beside him that was providing him with very good cover and launched his own stunner back at the wizard, hitting him right in the chest. The entire duel had lasted less than twenty seconds. Harry slowly stood up and looked at the five unconscious bodies and then at the rest of the students staring him in awe and disbelief—especially those who hadn't fought in the last battle against Voldemort. Only Hermione seemed unsurprised and her eyes were full of pride.

“Well, that was an improvement,” huffed Snape, “but still not good enough Potter. I think you need a little more help focusing,” as he walked around the dueling platform, casually awakening the stunned Ravenclaws. “Granger, Weasley, Longbottom, Finnigan, Thomas, Patil, and Brown—up here. Let's see if you fare any better against Potter.”

Harry looked glumly at his best friends as they ascended the platform. Ron flashed him a weak smile and Hermione winked. Then she smiled mischievously and all of the Gryffindors except Ron suddenly looked at her in amazement. Then they began quickly forming a circle around Harry, so that he was completely surrounded. Harry looked on in amazement—they were all perfectly positioned around him. By the way they held their wands, there was little chance any of them would hit any of the others when Snape told them to begin. It was as if one person were directing all of their movements—his eyes snapped to Hermione.

“What are you doing? Are you…”

“You better watch your back, Harry. You know how bad I hate losing.”

“Yeah, but you're getting used to it, aren't you?” he teased with a smile on his face, thinking of their daily sparring practices.

“Laugh it up funny boy.”

Harry realized what she was doing, and his smile widened. “Well, two can play at this game,” he thought to himself. If she was going to use her telepathy to improve their odds, then he wouldn't feel bad about using his teleportation and cloaking abilities. Technically, they weren't spells after all.

Snape looked at the assembled Gryffindors with satisfaction and then announced “Oh, by the way, Potter, you are not allowed to use your wand with your right hand.”

Everyone turned to stare at Snape. “What?” exploded Harry. Snape's eyes glinted with amusement as he replied, “Surely you have practiced casting spells with your off hand in case the need ever arose. And surely you know better than anyone else here that we do not always get to fight our battles in perfect health do we, Mr. Potter?”

Shifting his stance slightly, and somewhat awkwardly, to accommodate dueling with his left hand, Harry's face became a mask of concentration. His only consolation was that there was no elaborate wand movement with a stunning spell, it was simply aim and cast. The shield spell did require a simple swish and rotation, but he didn't plan on using any shield spells. “If he thinks he can humiliate me this way, I'll show him” he promised himself.

Snape allowed himself a wide smile as he told them to begin. Seven streams of light shot right at where Harry Potter had been, but he was no longer there. Seven pairs of eyes widened in shock and then looked around quickly to try and find Harry. Realizing Harry had teleported, Hermione immediately spun around and crouched on the ground, one knee on the floor and raised a powerful shield spell, just as Harry reappeared and launched a stunner at her. It rebounded powerfully off her shield and hit Seamus across the room and he dropped immediately. Harry then disappeared again as Hermione and several other Gryffindors launched stunners at where he had appeared. A moment later, Harry had reappeared by Ron and stunned him before disappearing again. The remaining Gryffindors moved to the center to form a circle with each of them looking outward. Harry picked off Neville with a stunner before the remaining four could set up their defense. They then began launching stunner spells in front of them at random, not fearful of hitting each other on the off chance that they might accidentally hit Harry. Hermione suddenly turned and launched a few stunners over her head just in case Harry was hovering above them. Suddenly one of Parvati's stunners came rebounding at her and struck her in the chest, knocking her back against Lavender who then tumbled to the floor. Hermione and Dean immediately launched stunners at Harry, but he had disappeared again, only to reappear on the opposite side of the room where he easily stunned Lavender who was struggling to her feet. Hermione and Dean then turned and aimed at Harry just as he disappeared. Dean fired his spell, but Hermione turned away again, expecting Harry to try and reappear behind them again. Instead, Harry reappeared three feet from where he had been and aimed at Hermione. She heard him start the spell and dove to the side while his shot went slightly to the right, and struck Dean before he had a chance to raise a shield. Hermione spun back around, realizing the trick as she heard Harry cast the spell and launched a stunner of her own. Harry raised his right hand, conjuring a shield spell and the spell was deflected harmlessly. They stared intently at each other and circled each other warily.

“Having a hard time dropping me, Harry?” taunted Hermione.

“Having a hard time finding me, Mione?” replied Harry.

Hermione sniffed. “Not really, you need a shower. We must have made you work up a sweat.”

“Well then, let's finish it,” he smirked as he disappeared. Hermione spun around, aiming her wand with a very focused expression on her face. Suddenly she cast a stunner just as Harry reappeared and he fell backward. She took one hesitant step forward when his wand shifted just a bit and he launched a stunner from where he was lying on the ground. Her eyes widened in surprise before she fell backwards unconscious.

“Much better, Potter. That is what I would like to see.”

“What? Me beating up on my classmates? Humiliating them? Is that what you want to see?” exploded Harry, rising awkwardly from the ground. Venting his anger and frustrations, Harry shouted, “If that is your idea of a class to…”

In a very quiet voice, Snape hissed, “I will not allow you or any other student to question my teaching methods, Potter. Be silent. And five points from Gryffindor.” Snape began reawakening the Gryffindors one by one. Hermione saw Harry standing there fuming and bit back whatever comment she was about to make.

“Class is dismissed for today. However, I wish a foot long scroll by each of you analyzing your duel. Granger, you may write on both of your duels if you like, but please keep it to less than two feet. I will take points off if you go over. And Potter, I want a foot long essay on each of your duels.” As the students rose to leave, many of them were already talking quietly about the duels they had witnessed. As they headed out, Snape barked out, “Potter, I'd like you to stay for a few minutes.”

Harry stood by the door, still angry at Snape. Hermione and Ron let the other students leave and hesitated before moving towards the door. With exasperation, Snape announced “Granger, Weasley, you can stay if you'd like. That way Potter won't have to repeat any of this again to you later.”

All three looked up at him in surprise. “Now close the door and listen closely, I'm only going to explain this once. I know you're upset about having to duel against your friends Potter. You feel that it is demeaning and unfair to them to have to try and beat you. Deal with it.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape cut him off. “Just listen for once Potter. First of all, you are not doing them any favors by taking it easy on them in a duel. By allowing Miss Patil to stay in the duel longer than she should have you endanger both her and yourself. First, you overinflate her estimations of her own abilities. If she seriously thinks she can last two minutes with Harry Potter with the skills she now possesses, she will overestimate her own abilities later on in a real duel and it may cost her her life. Second, anytime you toy around with someone in a duel, you run the risk they might get a lucky shot in. You never mess around Potter. You don't taunt, you don't trade jokes, you don't get cute. You finish the job as quickly as possible.

You've been in enough life and death situations that I shouldn't have to explain this to you. When you're dueling in this class, Potter, I want you to treat each and every duel as if your life depended on it. What you learn in here or what one of the other students here may learn by dueling you may save many lives in the future, not just your own.”

Harry's anger gone, he looked at Snape with new understanding in his eyes.

“Finally, I want you to understand why I will be limiting your dueling options in the future, like I did today by having you fight with your left hand. It is not to heap humiliation on your classmates. On the one hand, it does give them a slightly better chance of beating you. Neither you nor any of your classmates will learn anything from dueling if you finish them all off in ten seconds or less. I expect the other students will benefit greatly by having to face you in a duel. But just as important, it forces you to become more creative, more adaptive to any type of situation you may face in the future. If you can beat five students in here using your left hand, or crippled with a leg-locking curse, or blindfolded, then you will have a better chance at defeating three dark wizards or a giant fighting at full strength, with all of your options. And if you're not at full strength, you'll have the knowledge and experience that you can still survive and overcome your opponents.”

Snape smiled then. “I was beginning to wonder how many duels you would have to fight before you realized that I hadn't said you couldn't teleport or cloak yourself. I guess it took the fear of getting defeated by your girlfriend and roommates to push you into top form today, eh?”

Overcoming their initial shock, Hermione coughed and Ron snorted, both struggling not to laugh, but Harry didn't find Snape's final comments very amusing. Snape then asked, “I'm curious about the order in which you attacked the Gryffindors, Potter. Why did you attack Miss Granger first?”

“Isn't it obvious? She was the most dangerous. She was the one directing their tactics and she's the one who knows how I fight the best. Ron and Neville are about equal, but Ron has more experience. I tried to take those three down first. The rest were in no particular order, I just took whatever opportunity presented itself.”

“Excellent, Potter. Excellent.”

Smiling, Harry reached for his backpack and remembered that his arm was still numb from where Hermione's stunner had hit it. He pointed his wand at his arm and muttered Enervate. Everyone else stopped and stared at him.

“Are you OK? I…I actually hit you?”

“Well, yeah. I didn't really have to fake the falling down part. That's not exactly how I had planned it.” He then smirked, “But it seemed to work out OK for me.” Hermione punched him in the shoulder that was still tingling.

“Miss Granger, if you have any headaches or see any blue flashes today or tomorrow, be sure to go see Madame Pomfrey immediately. It is very rare, but occasionally there are side effects to the spell Mr. Malfoy cast at you this afternoon.”

“About that, Professor Snape…” began Harry.

“Do not worry Potter, I will deal with Mr. Malfoy. I intend to have a nice little chat with him about today's events. Now unless you have any more concerns about my teaching methods,” finished Snape sarcastically, “you may go.”

The three left the dungeon, feeling much better about their DADA class.

By the time they got to the Great Hall, the room was already abuzz with news of the duels. Hermione was nearly swamped by Gryffindors congratulating her for beating Malfoy. There were a number of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as well who came over to talk to her. Harry just laughed, glad not to be the center of attention for once though he could already hear some of the wild rumours being spread about the duels he was involved in. By the time he had finished dinner, he was surprised to learn that this very afternoon he had defeated twenty wizards, ten trolls, a pair of giants, and a dragon all by himself, without a wand. He rolled his eyes as he got up to leave and smirked at an increasingly agitated Hermione who was still stuck in the middle of a huge pack of students, describing for the fiftieth time her duel with Malfoy.

“Where are you going? Could I get a little help here? I haven't even had a chance to eat my dinner yet Harry!”

“I'm heading to the library to do some homework. You don't need me to rescue you, remember? Besides, you're their hero for today. Suck it up. A wise wizard once told me, `Fame is as fame does,' or something like that.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know. You'd have to ask Lockhart. I'll see you later.”

“Harry! Don't leave me here alone!” Harry began chuckling and tuned her out as he headed to the library.

---

Friday evening, Harry was late for the Gryffindor team tryouts since Samuel had kept him in the forest all day training hard.

“Nice of you to show up for tryouts, Potter,” growled Ron, barely sparing him a glance as he watched about a dozen airborne players still competing for one of the open Beater or Chaser slots.

“I'd be happy to change schedules with you any day, mate,” grumbled Harry, sitting wearily on a bench by Ron. Ron turned to look at him more closely and immediately noticed the weary look on Harry's face and the dirty and torn clothing he wore. “Blimey, you look awful Harry. You look like he ran you through a mile of bloodthorn vines—he didn't did he?”

“Feels like it. So how does our team look? Any good Beaters? Any decent Chasers to team up with your sister?”

“It's going to be tough, Harry. There's a couple of decent players for all four positions, but no standouts. And we don't have much time before the tournament begins to whip them into shape. Why don't you watch the Chasers for a minute while I focus on the Beaters and then we'll swap and compare notes.”

Thirty minutes later, Ron had made his final decision.

After sending those he had cut back to the common room, Ron gave a short pep talk that Harry felt would have made Wood proud. In fact, he could have swore that he even heard several of Wood's favorite phrases. But he was sure Ron had never heard one of Wood's rally speeches before. It must be the badge Harry decided. There was something about the Quidditch Captain's badge itself that could take even the calmest, shyest of people and transform them into a raging, hypercompetitive drill sergeant whose only goal was to win the Quidditch cup. He wondered briefly if McGonagall knew anything about this. He even wondered briefly if McGonagall had perhaps charmed the badge herself to do that. He knew she hated to lose Quidditch matches. It sounded like Ron was finally winding down, so he focused his attention once again on the new captain.

Ron told the team that there would be four practices a week, Mondays and Wednesdays in the evening, and Fridays and Saturdays in the afternoons. He also told him that he would be passing out playbooks at next Monday's practice and that he expected them to memorize all of the plays by the end of next week. Then again, thought Harry as he walked back to the common room to relax, maybe all the badge did was bring out underlying competitive desires and amplify them a bit. He just hoped the playbook wasn't much thicker than his regular textbooks—though knowing Ron's love of Quidditch, he thought it might be close.

--

Next Chapter: A New Minister of Magic

-->

Ch 24 A New Minister of Magic

Sunday evening, Harry was relaxing amidst the bustle of the Gryffindor common room, staring lazily at the fire as he sat in his favorite chair. Hearing a familiar stomping on the stairs, he looked up and grinned as Ron entered the room.

“You got a few minutes? We need to talk,” asked Harry, glancing warily around at the other laughing students.

A confused look on his face, Ron replied uncertainly. “Uhh sure, what's it about?”

Just then Harry heard approaching footsteps and Hermione's voice. “Are you ready Ron? Oh, I wasn't interrupting anything was I?” asked Hermione.

“No, Harry just wanted to ask about…uhh, what did you need to talk to me about, Harry?”

“Oh, nothing important,” insisted Harry smoothly, “I just had a few questions about Quidditch practice this week.”

“Well, can it wait? Ron and I need to go do rounds…” began Hermione.

“That's fine. I'll talk to him about it when he gets back. I guess Dumbledore reshuffled the pairs for doing rounds then. Who got stuck with Malfoy then?” asked Harry.

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Ron laughed. “Nobody. From what I heard, after Snape finished his little chat with Malfoy, he was so mad he nearly chucked him from the school. Dumbledore was pretty upset as well, but insisted that stripping him of his Head Boy duties along with detention and the points Snape deducted from the Slytherins was punishment enough.”

“Ron!” hissed Hermione. “You weren't supposed to tell anyone else. Only the prefects were supposed to know for right now.”

“Don't worry, it's just Harry—I can't believe you didn't already tell him. And for your information, I haven't told anyone else,” insisted Ron, glaring back at Hermione. “And it's not like half the school won't know all about it by tomorrow, anyways. Half the Slytherins hate him and the other half are terrified of him. Most of the other students thought Dumbledore must have been drunk on firewhiskey when he made Malfoy the Head Boy. Since he got whipped so bad in his duel with Hermione, a lot of students have been hoping Dumbledore would kick him out of the school for trying to hurt Hermione—they're afraid he might try and hex them next. Not even the Slythrin prefects can stand him—they'll be the first ones spreading the good news.” Harry's gaze snapped from Ron's angry, but pleased face to Hermione's stern and somewhat sad look.

“Mione, don't you dare blame yourself for Malfoy. He attacked you!”

“I know Harry. But I thought things would be better, especially after last year. He really seemed like he had started to change for the better.”

“I know, I thought so too. I hung out with him on the train just a week ago—I would never have guessed he would have tried something like that. I don't understand why he attacked you like he did—we'll have to be careful.”

“I will.”

“Well, come on then, Ron. The sooner we finish, the sooner you two can finish your little Quidditch chat.” As they left the room, Harry wondered briefly if she had guessed his real motive for wanting to talk to Ron. Samuel had another busy day planned for him tomorrow, and if any of the wonderful ideas he and the twins had come up with so far were ever going to be realized, he would need some help. Samuel had worked him hard Friday and Saturday, but had given him all of Sunday off to rest and relax with his friends.

--

Harry was just finishing an article on two new Seekers' strategies in the latest issue of one of Ron's Quidditch magazines when he heard Ron and Hermione returning. Apparently Ron had taken more points from some Slytherins than Hermione had thought was fair—he knew because he could hear their discussion for nearly two minutes before they actually stepped through the portrait.

Hermione gave Harry a quick kiss goodnight and with a quick glare at Ron, walked to her room. The Head Girl's room was located behind a large tapestry hanging in the Gryffindor common room. The large tapestry portrayed a small forest clearing with a unicorn drinking at a pool and a lion laying down by a waterfall that fed the pool. Hermione gave the unicorn a friendly pat and walked through the suddenly shimmering tapestry. She did not need a password, and the tapestry only allowed her to pass through it to enter her room.

Once Hermione had left the room, Harry winked at Ron and asked quietly, “Ready for some real fun?”

Ron grinned widely. “It's about time. No offense, but I hope I'm not paired with Hermione every week to do patrols. She's going to drive me stark raving mad.”

“Let's go then.” Checking the Marauders' Map, Harry made sure the corridors were clear and then led Ron outside without attracting the attention of any of the few remaining students in the common room.

“Where's the cloak, Harry?” whispered Ron.

Chuckling, Harry replied. “Hermione has it now but we won't need it. Besides Ron, you're almost too tall for the cloak anymore. But this should work, now stand still.” Harry tapped Ron's head and cast a Disillusionment charm on him, and then cloaked himself in invisibility. “Now, you remember the way, right?”

“Yeah, but won't we need the password?”

“Not tonight. And don't worry about the password. There are ways around that.”

--

At dinner Monday evening, a tired looking Harry finally found a seat by Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

“You should have seen it Harry! It was the most wonderful morning! Not a single Slytherin until after nearly one in the afternoon!”

“What are you talking about Ron?!” exclaimed Harry. Several of the other Gryffindors had burst out laughing.

“Oh, I'm sure Harry knows nothing at all about the little prank that was pulled on the Slytherins this morning, do you Harry?” asked Hermione. “It seems that somebody managed to seal the Slytherin common room door shut. Every Slytherin student—except a few who were out after curfew—missed breakfast, lunch, and all of their morning classes.”

“They what?!” exploded Harry. “But how?”

“Everyone thinks it's one of the Weasleys' new products,” supplied Neville, who was still chuckling.

“Apparently Professor Dumbledore and Snape found some sort of magical glue that had been placed all around the edges of the door. And it took them all morning to find the correct removal spell,” added Hermione.

“Well, pity I wasn't around to see that—sounds like it was a rather pleasant day then.”

“Well, Snape is furious. He thinks some of the Gryffindors did it.”

“Obviously,” snorted Ron. “Who do you think he's going to blame?”

“Now I'm sure that the both of you went right to bed after your little Quidditch chat last night.”

“Of course,” echoed Ron and Harry at the same time.

“Ask any of our roommates—we were there the entire night,” insisted Ron.

“Oh, I'm sure they'll all back up your story,” said Hermione, glancing around at the seventh year Gryffindor boys. “But if I were you, I'd be very careful about what you drink—Professor Snape has been fuming all day. I believe I heard him muttering about Veritaserum.” Several of the boys' faces blanched slightly as they glanced at each other. Hermione glanced at Ginny and gave her a quick wink.

“Well, unless there is any other news, I think I'll have a bite to eat,” declared Harry as he eagerly began loading his plate. “So how were classes without the Slytherins?”

Hermione flashed a quick grin. “Really quite nice actually. There were no disruptions or distractions, it really made for a very good learning atmosphere. But I expect DADA classes will be tougher this week, even if Snape can't prove anything.” She threw a significant glance at Harry and his smile faded slightly.

*-*-*

Harry and Ron were up early for breakfast Tuesday morning. They were halfway through their plates of sausages and pancakes when Hermione marched through the doors and sat down next to them, looking tired and more than a little peeved.

“I missed you this morning at practice, Mione,” thought Harry softly.

“Don't start with me, Harry,” warned Hermione.

“I don't suppose I have to think too hard to guess which pair of idiots thought it would be funny to give my room a Quidditch theme, do I? As if those horrid orange Chudley Cannon posters weren't bad enough Ron, it took me two hours to find all of my books and notes last night—since someone had transformed them all into miniature Quaffles, Bludgers, Snitches and brooms and sent them sailing around my room.” She glared directly at Harry who was very proud of himself for maintaining a straight face. “And then every hour, on the hour for the entire night, I got to listen to Wood's voice shout out words of advice and encouragement as if I were in the middle of one of your bloody matches, Harry!”

A small crowd had gathered and was struggling to keep from laughing.

“Well, maybe poor old Wood caught one too many Bludgers to the head and has come back to haunt Hogwarts as a ghost,” suggested Harry in a very innocent voice.

“Or maybe…” began Ron and then burst out laughing, along with most of the Gryffindors at the table.

“You need to pick better co-conspirators, Harry. Ron can't handle very much pressure,” remarked Hermione. Instead of defending himself, Ron just laughed harder.

Still keeping a perfectly straight face, Harry replied evenly, “I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about Hermione.”

“Whatever,” chuckled Hermione. “So am I off the top of your list and can I focus on my studies again?”

Harry smiled and took another bite of pancake.

Hermione scooted closer and whispered. “Harry, how did you manage all that? I'm dying to know. We both know that boys can't get into the Head Girl's room—Hogwart's, a History is very clear about that. So how did you…”

Harry grinned. “Now Mione, a good prankster never reveals their secrets.”

“Fine, Harry,” replied Hermione with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Just remember that what goes around comes around.” She then turned to her bowl of cereal while Harry choked on his toast.

Halfway through breakfast, Harry looked up to see McGonagall walking towards them quickly. “Mr. and Miss Weasley, will you please follow me? Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, you should come as well.” Sharing glances with his best friends, Harry shrugged as they followed McGonagall to the side room by the Great Hall. “Professor Dumbledore thought it best that I inform you before you heard it from any other source.”

“Is something wrong?” asked Ginny. “Did something happen to Dad? Or Mum?”

“No, no, they're both fine. In fact, I have some very good news about your father.” Looking at Ron and Ginny, she continued. “In fact, you have both been excused from classes today in order to attend his swearing in as the new Minister of Magic.”

“Really? Wow!” exclaimed Ron.

“That's wonderful!” squealed Ginny.

“What's the bad news?” asked Harry quietly, sensing there was something wrong.

McGonagall looked directly at Harry before replying. “Fudge's assassin has somehow managed to escape.”

“He escaped?!?!” roared Harry. “How on earth did he manage to do that?!?! Is that why Dumbledore wasn't here this morning?”

“We don't know how he escaped. And yes, that is why Professor Dumbledore is absent this morning.”

“So how many people did he kill?” he asked, his fists clenching at his sides as the temperature in the room began to rise.

“He didn't kill anyone when he broke out,” she explained quietly. “And please try to control your temper.”

“Is that why they're nominating Mr. Weasley so quickly? Doesn't the process usually last several months?” asked Hermione.

McGonagall glanced at Hermione before replying. “Yes, Miss Granger, that is exactly why they're installing Arthur as Minister today. Most of the Wizengamot believes the more quickly we act, the better. Professor Dumbledore also told me to inform the two of you that you were to be excused from classes today as well to attend the ceremony with the Weasleys if you wish. He seemed concerned that one or both of you might come down with some sort of illness and miss class otherwise.” She seemed to smile, but if she did, it was gone quickly. “All four of you will, of course, be responsible for making up the class work you miss today. You may leave after breakfast. You can go to Hogsmeade and travel to the Burrow with the twins. Professor Dumbledore gave me this portkey for you to use to return to the school this afternoon after the ceremony. The password to activate it is Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.” She said the last part as if it left a distinct sour taste in her mouth. “And do not bring any of their products back with you,” she finished.

They returned to the Gryffindor table but could barely eat until the owls dropped off the morning mail. Hermione snatched up her copy of the Daily Prophet and ruffled the feathers of the owl which then squawked in protest. She patted it absentmindedly and scanned the front page quickly as Harry, Ron, and Gin crowded close around her.

“Arthur Weasley Elected New Minister of Magic by Emergency Meeting of the Wizengamot Late Last Night. The Ministry, facing a number of difficult issues, was rocked by a new scandal—the escape of the assassin of the former Minister of Magic from Azkaban yesterday afternoon. According to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, a majority of the members of the Wizengamot felt that the sooner a new minister was appointed, the sooner the Ministry can begin dealing with these critical problems. And, according to Headmaster Dumbledore, a vast majority of the members felt that Arthur Weasley was the best wizard for the job of guiding the Ministry through these troublesome times.

Arthur Weasley will be officially sworn in today at noon at the monument marking the final battle of the Second War against Voldemort. All who would like to attend have been invited to the ceremony.

When asked to comment, Mr. Weasley stated that he had a number of reforms and policies he wished to pursue in office, but that for right now his main priority would be to find the surviving Death Eaters and the assassin of Cornelius Fudge and protect the wizarding world from any possible attacks by them in the future.”

The four kept reading the article as the group around them slowly grew. Getting tired of being shoved by other curious Gryffindors, Hermione waved her wand over the paper and tapped it several times, making copies of the paper. “Here, pass these down the table and give us some room to breathe here,” she ordered.

When they finished reading the relevant articles in the paper, the four finished their breakfast in record time as a loud buzz grew in the Great Hall. Cleaning off their plates, they raced from the Great Hall back to their rooms to drop off their bookbags. Harry turned to go back downstairs, and paused when Ron called out.

“Harry, you weren't planning on going in that, were you?”

Looking down at his school robes, he looked back at Ron and shrugged. “Uhh, yeah. What's the problem?”

“Why do you think we got you those nice dress robes?”

“Because you actually like shopping for clothes? And because you love spending my money?”

Ron laughed before pointing out a set of deep green dress robes. “Wear those, mate. And change into one of those Spinozi shirts.” He then turned back to his own wardrobe and started looking through it.

“We don't have time for this Ron. I'm sure the girls are waiting for us downstairs, ready to go.” Ron just laughed.

“Hermione. Are you ready to go yet?”

“Of course not, Harry. We have to change into our dress robes. You didn't think we were just going to go in our school robes did you?”

“Oh, never mind.” He heard her laughing and tried to ignore her.

Ten minutes later, Harry and Ron descended to the common room where they waited another fifteen minutes for the girls to come down. Ron whistled in appreciation and Harry rolled his eyes while Hermione inspected him.

“You look sharp Harry.”

“Uh, tha…”

“Thanks for helping him out Ron.” Hermione grinned, Ron chuckled, and Harry shot them both glares.

“Well, if you three are done, we need to hurry to Hogsmeade if we're going to catch the twins,” started Ginny.

Harry smiled. “Just hold Ron's hand. Ron, you grab my shoulder,” instructed Harry as he grasped Hermione's hand.

“What? What are you going to…”

“Harry, you've never teleported this many…”

In the blink of an eye, Harry had teleported all four of them into the middle of Fred and George's store in Hogsmeade. Ron and Ginny looked around in disbelief.

“I didn't think you could Apparate on Hogwart's grounds,” started Ginny.

“You can't,” replied Hermione, Ron, and Harry.

“But there aren't any wards against teleportation,” smiled Harry.

“Wicked,” whispered Ron.

“Where are the twins?” asked Hermione looking around.

Harry glanced around quickly and then moved towards the front door, which had a piece of parchment in the window. He grabbed it and looked up. “Looks like they got tired of waiting for us. They're already at the Burrow. Well, the three of us can Apparate there, so if you want to use some Floo powder Gin, we'll meet you there.”

“Wait,” she replied, a wide grin spreading on her face. “Don't you think it would be appropriate to leave a reply to their message?”

Smiling, Harry responded. “I suppose it would depend on what you had in mind. I assume you mean something that won't burn down their store while they're gone?”

Ron chipped in, “Oh, Harry, you take all the fun out of things.” The four spread out in search of several items to use against the owners of the store.

Fifteen minutes later, with four very wide smiles, they left for the Burrow. When they arrived, the Burrow was abuzz with frenzied activity.

Mrs. Weasley paused on the landing. “Ron, Ginny! It's about time you got here! Hello Harry and Hermione! I'm so glad Dumbledore let you come! Come over here and let me get a look at all of you!” She nodded with approval as she straightened Ron's collar and then frowned slightly as she tried to get Harry's hair to lay down. “You look very nice, Ron. You, too Harry.”

“I had some help, Mrs. Weasley,” grinned Harry.

“A lot of help,” added Hermione with a smirk.

“And the two of you look radiant, as usual,” as she surveyed Hermione and Ginny with approval. “Now if I could only get your brothers and your father ready…” she muttered.

--

Ten minutes later, Molly was shooing everyone towards the living room and the candy dish on the table that would serve as the portkey. They all placed a finger on the dish and Arthur spoke the command word Minister. They opened their eyes to see the dying field near the crystal monument commemorating the fallen victims and heroes of the two wars against Voldemort. Once again, Harry looked at the elegant, yet simple monument glittering in the morning sun. Ministry officials were scurrying everywhere and three cloaked Aurors quickly walked over to them when they appeared.

“Special security precautions for the ceremony,” whispered Arthur.

Once the Aurors were satisfied that none of them was the escaped Yonnua assassin, Arthur went over to the large stage to talk quietly with several of the wizards and witches already gathered there. Harry spotted Dumbledore and gave him a quick nod before finding his seat with Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys on one side of the stage. He saw several reporters with quills in their hands race quickly to their side as they sat down.

Suddenly, Harry simply disappeared.

“Harry. Harry! You can't simply disappear every time reporters come to talk to you,” explained Hermione, while trying to keep from smiling at the consternation on the faces of the reporters. Fred and George were laughing out loud. Ron was trying to talk to one of them, who didn't look like she wanted to be bothered.

“Why not? I don't want to talk to them, and they always ask the same old stupid questions, anyways. And if I do say something, they just twist it around to make it say what they want to hear anyways.”

“Well, yes, they do do that sometimes. But they do have their uses, right? Rita was very helpful the last time you talked to her, wasn't she?”

“Yeah, because you were blackmailing her. Do you have something on these guys you can use to keep them in line?”

Hermione thought for a moment. “Well, I do know one reporter you could trust. Walgine I. Raiveys.”

“Who?”

“He wrote some very strong articles defending you and attacking Fudge and the Ministry following your trial. You can trust him.”

“I don't know, Mione.”

“Just think about it.”

“Fine, but I'm not talking to any press today. And don't roll your eyes, Mione. I hate talking to the press.”

Unable to talk to Harry Potter, most of the reporters went to try and talk to Arthur, but were kept away by several Aurors and escorted from the stage. Harry chuckled and uncloaked his invisibility.

For the next forty-five minutes, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys chatted amiably and watched the stage fill with important officials from the Ministry and visitors from other Ministries. The Aurors were kept very busy scanning people filling the seats in the field surrounding the stage. When Harry made a comment Molly told him that Arthur had opened the ceremony to the public.

“I'll bet the Aurors were thrilled about that,” chuckled Harry.

“Not really,” replied Molly. “But they didn't have much choice, now did they?”

A few minutes later, the crowd hushed as Dumbledore stepped forward and raised his hands for silence and then pointed his wand at his throat for a moment. “Sonorus.”

“On behalf of the Wizengamot, I would like to welcome everyone who has come to be with us today. The Wizengamot is extremely pleased to present the next Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley. Minister-elect Weasley.” He then turned and stepped aside as Arthur rose from his chair and stepped towards the podium. He shook Dumbledore's hand and then cast Sonorus on himself.

“Arthur Finnigan Weasley, do you give your oath as a wizard to do all within your power to protect the wizards and witches of Great Britain as the Minister of Magic, to defend their rights, to always act in their best interests, and to preserve and promote the mystery of magic?”

“I do.”

“Congratulations, Minister Weasley.” Dumbledore shook Arthur's hand again and then returned to his seat. As the crowd burst into loud cheers and applause, Arthur turned to face the large audience and raised his hands so that he could speak.

“Thank you, thank you. First, I would like to thank you all for coming here today. I would like to thank my amazing wife, Molly, and my wonderful children, for everything they have done for me—for making every day worth living. Everything I have accomplished is due to their support.

To my friends and colleagues at work and in the Order of the Phoenix—thank you. To all of you who have come out today to support me, I extend my deepest gratitude as well.

I feel awed and humbled at the responsibility you have given me. And I will be the first one to admit that I cannot accomplish all the changes we need by myself. I confess that I will have to ask for your support yet once again as the new Minister. I pray that I will prove equal to the tasks that lie ahead. I firmly believe that with your aid and support, we can make our world more safe, more just, and more open.

Events in recent months have made clear the need for several important changes within both the Ministry and the larger wizarding world as well. I will not try to pretend that several of the changes I will pursue will not seem controversial to some. There will be, I predict, considerable opposition to them from certain groups. Nevertheless, I have been elected as the Minister of Magic, and as long as I hold that position, I will pursue the following three objectives.

To make our world safer, I will appoint a new Chief Auror. He will have two important goals. The most important will be to capture the assassin of Minister Fudge who escaped and the Death Eaters who remain at large. Their captures will be the primary focus of the Aurors. And we will not stop hunting them until they have all been recaptured and brought to justice and no longer pose a threat to our world. The second goal will to be reform and strengthen the department of Aurors. You only have to spend a few minutes at the monument behind me to realize we lost a lot of good men and women in the final battle against Voldemort. Wizards and witches, both young and old, that we will never be able to replace. But for our own security, we must strengthen the ranks of those we do have. And we will make sure that they're better trained than ever before. To oversee this, I will bring in somebody from outside of the ranks of the Aurors. However, he has extensive experience in fighting Dark Wizards. Let me introduce Remus Lupin, our new Chief Auror.” Arthur then paused and gestured towards the chair where Lupin sat on the stage.

Lupin stood for a moment on the stage and nodded briefly to the crowd as murmurs, whispers, and occasional clapping broke out in the crowd. Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys were all on their feet clapping very loudly.

“To make our world more just, we will begin the task of reviewing our judicial system. It has come to our attention that there are a few practices which need to be revised in order to make the system more fair and equitable. There is no one more qualified to do this than Madame Bones. She has graciously agreed to retain her current post and head the committee which will be reviewing our code of laws and statutes. Thank you, Madame Bones.” He paused and nodded to her as she stood and waved to the crowd as well.

“Finally, to make our world more open, with the aid of both Remus Lupin and Madame Bones, we will be reaching out to the rest of the magical world. Of the many lessons we learned from the defeat of Voldemort, I can think of few more important than the need to encourage cooperation and friendship with all other magical beings. Therefore, I fully intend to extend the hand of fellowship to all who will receive it. Some may be concerned about establishing new relationships with the elves, the dwarves, the goblins, the merpeople, the centaurs, the giants, or the dragons. In response I say look around you at this field. Without their aid, and the aid of numerous others as well, this battle well might have marked the end of our world. We were extremely fortunate to have some from a younger generation,” he paused and glanced towards Harry and Hermione, “remind those of us from an older generation that sometimes we do need help from others. Had we tried to stand alone as wizards and witches against the allied forces of Voldemort, I fear we would have fallen. And if we are to avoid future dangers and threats, we must be willing to work with others of the magical world to confront and overcome them.

I do not promise an easy road ahead. Some of these changes will be difficult to achieve, let nobody doubt that. But the benefits for our children, and theirs will make it more than worthwhile. We will struggle to make a world that is more safe, more just, and more open so that they in turn can better face the challenges of their time. We know the tasks that lie before us, now let us summon the courage to face them. We have overcome tremendous challenges in the past, and it is my firm belief that together we can, and will, do so again. It is my pleasure to work with you in achieving these noble goals. Thank you.”

Most of the crowd began cheering loudly, but there were small pockets of people who appeared less than enthused about what they had heard. As Arthur, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Madame Bones descended the platform, they were immediately surrounded by reporters buzzing with questions. Harry had hoped to get a chance to talk to one of them about the escaped assassin, but he realized he couldn't do that with so many people and reporters around. Molly whistled softly, indicating that it was time to return to the Burrow. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley boys Apparated back, while Ginny and her mother returned with the portkey.

Molly prepared an enormous celebration dinner for everyone before they returned to school early that evening. Arthur managed to escape the press and the Ministry for half an hour to visit and eat. There was plenty to talk about and finally Molly had to insist that Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione return to Hogwarts. Harry tried not to worry about the escaped assassin and enjoy the evening afternoon and evening with his closest friends.

The four returned to Hogsmeade with the twins but instead of going to the shop, they spent another hour at the Three Broomsticks visiting. Finally, Hermione insisted that they return to school, since they would all have classes in the morning. Reluctantly, the other three agreed.

Harry teleported them all back to the Gryffindor common room, where they eagerly explained the day's events to the other Gryffindors. Everyone seemed very happy for Ron and Ginny, and organized an impromptu celebration party for them. Tired from the day's excitement, Harry finally left the party quietly and headed up to his room.

Pulling off his robes, he noticed a small scroll lying on his bed. Puzzled, he looked around but saw nobody. Cautiously, he cast several detection spells before touching the scroll. Unrolling it, he read: “Harry, Please meet me at the Astronomy tower tonight at ten. There is something very important I need to discuss with you. Come alone.” Harry could find no signature, but the handwriting itself was very nice, with lots of big loops. And he thought he detected a whiff of something flowery as well.

“Mione. Do you have a minute?”

“Actually, I'm still out on patrol right now, why?”

“Oh, never mind then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'll sort it out myself. I'll talk to you later.”

Harry headed downstairs only to find the celebration still in full swing and both Ron and Ginny looked busy visiting with friends. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was almost ten. Gripping his wand firmly, he stepped back up the steps and disappeared.

A moment later he breathed deeply in the night air. The air was cool and crisp, with just a hint of the flowers he had detected on the scroll. So whoever had written the note was in fact here on the tower. But there were no other scents he could detect that did not belong on the tower. His sharp eyes glanced around quickly, looking for possible dangers. There was nothing in the sky above, and apart from the robed figure over by the side of the parapet watching the trapdoor that opened to the tower's roof, there was no hint of a trap or ambush. He still wasn't sure how the note had gotten into his room, but it did not seem like this was some trick of the Death Eaters or the escaped assassin. He gazed quickly at the figure again, just to make sure it wasn't a Yonnua. It wasn't. So who was it?

Harry resheathed his wand and walked closer to the darkly robed figure. The figure turned slightly and Harry caught a flash of silvery blonde hair hidden in the hood.

He froze in shock. He then uncloaked his invisibility and asked, “What did you want to talk to me about Gabrielle?”

She jumped and exclaimed, “Harry! You just about scared me to death! Why are you sneaking up on me?”

“I…uhh…I didn't mean to startle you. But your note was pretty mysterious and I still have enemies out there. I thought it might be a trap…”

“Oh, Harry, I didn't mean to frighten you…” She quickly covered the distance between the two and threw her arms around him. “I mean, I'm sure you weren't frightened, you're so brave after all…”

Harry's mind was spinning. What was going on here? Instinctively, Harry grabbed her arms gently, pulled them away, and stepped back. “What…what did you want to talk to me about Gabrielle?” Harry was having a hard time focusing, especially with Gabrielle so near.

“Well, I never got a chance to properly thanking you for rescuing me from the merpeople, Harry,” she explained as she stepped closer again and shook her hair as she looked up at Harry.

“Uhh…that's quite alright. They wouldn't really have done anything to you or the others.”

“Well, we didn't know that at the time.” She was very close to Harry again. “I just wanted to talk with you, Harry, to get to know you a little better. It's so hard to get a chance, we don't have any classes together and you always seem to be with your friends.”

“Uhh…well,” stammered Harry. Something was wrong, why couldn't he seem to think straight, why were his thoughts reeling? As Gabrielle began speaking again, he found himself staring intently at her bright blue eyes, her cascading hair flowing over her shoulders. Her lips were moving closer and suddenly brushed his very lightly.

Harry jumped back as if had been burned. His mind cleared and instantly his mental defenses were back in place. His anger flared as he realized how her veela charms had slowly undermined his mental defenses. He had underestimated the power a veela could have if she focused all of her attention on only one person. He would never make that mistake again.

His eyes burned bright, and Gabrielle, misunderstanding, smiled. As Harry opened his mouth so speak, they both saw a bright flash of blue light by the trapdoor. A signal spell of some sort he realized. While Harry spun around to look in the sky to try and find whatever had been signaled, Gabrielle sprang forward, threw her arms around Harry, and kissed him again. Harry once again tried to push her away, but she was stronger than she appeared.

Suddenly the trapdoor snapped open and out climbed a slim, lithe figure with bushy hair. Gabrielle loosened her grip and Harry managed to push her away. He then froze when he saw the angry glance etched on her face as she stood by the open trapdoor.

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded Hermione.

-->

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione wasn't paying him any attention. She was glaring daggers at Gabrielle. “I asked you a question. What do you think you are doing here?”

Gabrielle straightened and returned the glare. Icily, she replied, “I don't see how it's any of your business what Harry and I are doing up here together. In fact…”

“Hey, we weren't doing anything tog…” protested Harry. Both girls barely spared him a brief glance before they returned to their stare down.

“Apparently, as a transfer student you have a few misperceptions about how things work here at Hogwarts. It would be my pleasure to help straighten you out on a few things. First of all, Harry and I are a couple…” began Hermione.

“Oh, really?” snorted Gabrielle. “He wasn't acting like that a minute ago.”

“Second of all, I am the Head Girl. In fact, it was Randall here that suggested that we check the Tower tonight at about ten.” Hermione paused and glanced at a short, skinny prefect from Hufflepuff who had just climbed up the ladder. “Randall, do you remember who tipped you off earlier today?”

Randall looked nervously from Hermione to Gabrielle, nearly withering under their intense stares.

“Yes, please tell us Randall,” whispered Gabrielle softly and batted her eyelashes.

“Stop that,” warned Hermione.

“What?” pleaded Gabrielle innocently.

“You know what I'm talking about.” She then turned to the Hufflepuff prefect. “Who was it Randall?”

“I…I don't remember his name, but he was from Ravenclaw,” stuttered the nervous prefect.

“Didn't you think it was suspicious that someone knew exactly when somebody else was sneaking off to the Astronomy tower, and then went to a prefect about it? How often does a student ever rat out another student like that, especially when they're both from the same house? Have you ever had that happen before?”

“Uhh, I didn't really think about it at the time, but yeah, it was kind of strange.”

“But not so strange if someone wanted to be caught,” explained Hermione.

“What?” echoed Harry and Randall.

“What are you talking about? You're crazy! Who in their right mind would want to get caught on the Astronomy tower kissing their…” exclaimed Gabrielle.

“You did,” snapped Hermione. “You somehow lured Harry here, then had one of your admirers tip off one of the prefects who would be on patrol tonight. You knew I would be on patrol tonight as well, and somehow timed it so that when we came up to inspect the tower, I would catch you kissing Harry…”

“So that blue light was your signal that Hermione and Randall were coming up the stairs,” muttered Harry. “You had it set on the stairs below the trapdoor—that's why I didn't detect it.”

“And you thought that if I caught you kissing Harry that we would break up and you could step in and…” continued Hermione.

“Well, if Harry changes his mind about you, and believe me, I think he has, then I…”said Gabrielle confidently.

“That's enough,” growled Harry in a low voice. “Gabrielle, if you really thought that you could stage all of this to somehow split us up and make me fall in love with you, then you are sadly mistaken.”

At his tone, Gabrielle backed up a step. “But, Harry, I…I thought that you felt the same…”

“No. I love Hermione. And nothing will ever change that.”

Gabrielle took a step forward and looked up at Harry softly, her hands reaching for him. “But Harry, I'm sure if we just had a chance to get to know each other better, away from…” As Gabrielle approached Harry, she raised her hand to caress his cheek and glanced sideways at Hermione.

“NO!” snarled Harry as he backed up a step. “And if you ever try and use your veela charms on me again, I will make you one very sorry witch,” threatened Harry in a low, harsh voice.

Gabrielle backed up a step from Harry, her eyes wide with fear.

“I think we're done here,” stated Hermione coldly. “Why don't you two head back down, I'd like a word with Gabrielle alone.”

Gabrielle now looked at Hermione nervously, struggling to hide the growing fear in her eyes.

As Harry turned to follow Randall down the ladder, he turned to Hermione. “Mione, I'm…”

“There's no need to apologize, Harry. I know you'd never betray me.”

“Well, I shouldn't have been fooled by her veela charms. I should have…”

“Don't worry, Harry. I trust you. I don't think either of us realized how powerful a veela's charm could be, especially if she focused it on one person. Actually, I should have realized it when I saw the effects of those veela on an entire stadium of spectators, or her effect on nearly every male in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. I'm sure I've read something about it…”

“Uhh, you're not going to hex her are you Mione?” asked Harry, smiling as Hermione's thoughts raced through her head trying to analyze the situation.

“No, though I really want to in the worst way. We're just going to have a little chat. Don't bother waiting for us. I'll see you tomorrow morning for our workout with Saldar.”

“Mione?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Thanks. Thanks for trusting me and not jumping to conclusions.”

“Of course.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now go.”

Motioning for Randall to go first, Harry looked back at Hermione and Gabrielle as he began climbing down the ladder. The last words he heard before the trapdoor shut above his head were, “Come here Gabrielle. There are a few more things I need to explain to you…”

---

The next morning at breakfast, in between mouthfuls of sausage, Ron drew attention to the arrival of Gabrielle in the hall.

“Squa dobbt phoo bo ghoud, dub bee?”

“Try swallowing your food first, you revolting Neanderthal,” suggested Hermione.

Ignoring Hermione's insult, Ron swallowed and then belched before replying. “She doesn't look too good, does she?” With his head, he nodded in Gabrielle's direction. “I wonder what's wrong with her?”

Harry and Hermione both glanced up and sure enough, Gabrielle appeared visibly deflated. There was no bounce in her step, and she was not glancing around flirtatiously like normal as she walked slowly to the Ravenclaw table. When she glanced up at the Gryffindor table and caught the gaze of the three Gryffindors briefly, she quickly ducked her head again.

“What on earth did you do to her, Mione?”

“Nothing, Harry. We just had a little chat, you know, to sort of clear the air between us.”

“Uhh, you'll let me know if I ever get dangerously close to receiving one of those little chats, won't you Mione?”

“Of course, Harry.” She smiled and Harry dug into his plate of eggs while Ron continued to stare over at Gabrielle. He only stopped looking when the first owls came flying in, bringing the students' mail.

A beautiful eagle owl came flying in and dropped four matching envelopes in front of Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione.

“They're from George, or Fred, or both,” explained Ginny. “That's their new owl.”

“He's beautiful,” commented Hermione, stroking his feathers softly.

“They named him Budkis,” sniggered Ginny.

“Well, at least they didn't send us Howlers,” commented Ron with evident relief. “I was expecting them to try and do something to us after what we did to their shop yesterday.”

“Well why don't you open your letter first, Ron,” suggested Harry.

“Well, I'd rather not. Why don't you…” he started but all four envelopes began opening themselves on the table.

A loud voice boomed from Hermione's envelope, quickly drowning out the other conversations in the Great Hall as all of the students turned to watch. Even the professors stopped talking to look at the Gryffindor table.

“Well done, well done. So the four young mischief makers-in-training think they're ready for the big game, do they? The modified model dragon you left in our store was brilliant. Needless to say, we were very surprised and somewhat alarmed to discover a twenty foot dragon waiting inside our shop when we visited it last night after Dad's ceremony. And when he opened his mouth and began burning down our shop, we were very shocked indeed. But the best part was when the dragon actually charged Fred and I, and then swallowed us whole. We found the entire experience very realistic. As we sat there in its belly trying to find the right spell to free us from the illusion, we were visited by the creative muse of mischief—we call her Minny, after our favorite teacher—and we finally escaped with a number of new ideas. We would like to thank the four of you for a most enjoyable and what we expect will be a very profitable experience.”

Fred's voice then continued. “The dragon prank was so impressive that we decided to preserve it so that all interested Hogwart's students can face a dragon on their next visit to our shop at Hogsmeade. Replay the part of St. George and save Britain and the fair maiden from the dragon. Visit his cave below our store and look for treasure in the dragon's lair. But don't get caught or he'll fry you for dinner. Or just stop by to sit on his back and take a picture. Amaze your friends and family back home. The possibilities are endless!

Finally, we would like to provide a live demonstration of our latest product, a new line of personal letters that we are calling the Yowlers. They will be on sale to the public shortly at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. And there will be a special discount for the first fifty students who buy a box. Enjoy the show!”

George's voice then announced, “Having trouble letting that special someone know that you care? Send a Love Yowler!”

The letter in front of Ron folded itself into a huge pair of lips and began kissing Ron on his face, his head, and his ears while he swatted at it helplessly. The Hall burst into laughter. Finally, he caught it and ripped it to shreds, glaring around at everyone in the hall while his ears burned red with embarrassment.

“Have a friend that's always running late or sleeping in? Send an Alarm Yowler!”

Ginny's letter folded itself into an alarm clock and began ringing very loudly and very shrilly, causing all of the Gryffindors to put their hands over their ears until Ginny was able to catch it between her hands and crumple it up.

“Have a teacher or other prefect that is too strict, giving too many homework assignments or detentions? Send a Hulk Yowler! Don't worry, they're untraceable! They'll never know who sent it!”

Hermione's letter stood up from the table in the form of a little green man with huge muscles for a six inch frame. He then began dancing around the table yelling, “Hulk no like homework! Hulk smash! Hulk no like rules! Hulk smash!” and picked up her spoon and began smashing grapes, oranges, and bananas in a fruit bowl with the large spoon. As students dodged from the juice and bits of fruit that were flying everywhere, Hermione smiled as she reached down to take the spoon back and it screamed, “Hulk no like teachers! Hulk smash!” and smacked her thumb right on the knuckle.

“Oww!” Her eyes flashed and she reached over for her Arithmancy book and picked it up with both hands.

“Hulk no like books! Hulk smaaaa!” His shout of defiance finally petered out as Hermione smashed the book down on top of him. She then looked up at the students who were still giggling. Harry and the other Gryffindors quickly tried to wipe the grins off of their faces.

“If I get another one of these, believe me, I will trace it back to the original sender,” she threatened in a convincing tone of voice.

George's voice broke the silence. “Have someone you just need to get even with? Send a Monster Yowler! Available in giant, Dementor, troll, goblin, elf, dwarf, vampire, and DRAGON!”

Harry's letter reformed into a paper mache dragon and flew off the table. It circled the room several times and then began divebombing the Slytherin table and launching small puffs of flame, causing many of them to duck and hide under the table. As the crowd laughed, it circled and headed back towards the Gryffindors. As it approached Harry, it opened its mouth as if it were going to breathe fire again. Harry whipped out his wand and calmly announced “Aqueas.” A jet of water hit the flying dragon as a small flame erupted from its mouth. The dragon melted into a soggy lump of parchment and crashed into the floor with a loud glop.

Harry glanced up at the professors' table and noticed that most were laughing, along with most of the hall. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he slowly stood.

“Now that Gryffindor has saved Hogwarts from the Weasley twins, perhaps we can finish our breakfast.” Most of the students began laughing even harder, except for the Slytherins who were still embarrassed.

--

Chatting with Ron and Hermione as they waited with the other students of the DADA class for Snape to arrive, Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and he spun around quickly, his wand leaping into his fist.

Malfoy's eyes widened slightly but he did not flinch as he stared calmly at the wands held by the three friends aimed at him. Instead he raised his hands slowly and nodded slightly. “I only came over to uhh…apologize to Granger for last week. I…I'm sorry.” He then turned on his heel and walked away stiffly.

Harry and Hermione just looked at each other while Ron sported a wide smile. “That must have just killed him to do that. I'll bet Snape made him do it. He probably thinks he'll get his precious little prefect badge back, huh? Uhh, Harry, Hermione? Are you listening?”

“Well, he said it. And part of him was very sincere, but part of him, I don't know. It's like he's hiding something. Something's wrong, Harry, but I'm not sure what it is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, my telepathic ability is not too different from using Legilimins, only it's more natural, more subtle. But I still cannot really read a person's mind—it's more like being able to sense their most obvious feelings and hearing the main thought or idea they happen to be concentrating on at one moment. Then it's a combination of putting together these different clues to try and understand what they're really thinking. With people like Snape or Dumbledore, it's very difficult to even hear their surface thoughts, because they're very accomplished at Occlumency. Not impossible, but difficult.”

“So what's the problem?”

“Well, I'm having a hard time making sense of anything that Malfoy is thinking right now. Either he's become very powerful in Occlumency in the last couple of weeks or…”

“Or that isn't Draco?”

“I don't know. Maybe. Or it could be that he's had some sort of mental breakdown, maybe he's cracked with everything that's been happening to his parents—I don't know.”

After a moment, Harry replied, “Well, it's not our assassin friend, though I didn't really think it was. It would be pretty tough impersonating a student at a magic school. It could be someone using a Polyjuice potion I suppose—we can watch him for the next two hours, he would have to take a sip of something before class was over. But if he has gone mental, we'll need to keep a really close eye on him.”

“I'll tell Ron and a few others to keep a close eye on him throughout the class.”

“Yeah, well either way, if he tries anything funny today, crazy or not, I will blast him through a wall. I don't care what Snape says.”

“You just worry about getting through the duels today, Harry. I'm sure Snape has something nasty in store after Monday. And especially since there wasn't anything he could do to us in class on Tuesday.”

As Hermione finished, Snape strode through the door and his face broke into a humourless grin, one that closely resembled that of a cat who had just captured a rat. A cat that was looking forward to toying with his helpless prey.

“Excellent! The dream team could fit our class into their overly hectic schedule today. No meetings with the Ministry today, hmm? Good. The three of you can take your places inside the dueling chamber. Get comfortable, you're going to be there awhile.”

Ron glanced quickly at Harry and Hermione for a moment, but saw nothing but steely determination in their gazes. He followed them onto the platform as Snape began calling out the names of their opponents. Throughout the long, grueling class, Draco did not drink or eat anything. There was no hint whatsoever to either Hermione or Harry that it was someone using Polyjuice potion to impersonate Draco.

---

After Quidditch practice that night, Harry stopped by the library looking for Hermione and quickly spotted Hermione scribbling furiously over at one edge of the table. There was nobody within ten feet of her. Grinning, he silently crept over to surprise her and then froze at her furious glare.

“The room wasn't enough, was it? You had to replace my school scrolls with some of the specialty parchments from the twins' store?”

Harry stepped back with puzzlement on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh don't act like you don't know, Harry. I have to rewrite both essays I turned in today, and I have to check the other ones I worked on over the weekend for tomorrow as well.”

“Why?”

Hermione stood up and took a menacing step closer to Harry. “Because after I turned them in to my Professors today, the parchments rewrote my essays into several rhyming, but rather rude, limericks. Luckily, McGonagall and Flitwick gave me two days to rewrite them—they believed me when I told them it must have been some sort of prank. How could you do something like this, Harry?”

“But I didn't. I didn't,” pleaded Harry. “Look at me.” Harry waited until Hermione looked up at him. “I know how much your schoolwork means to you. I would never do something like that. I swear to you, Hermione, I didn't do it.”

Hermione looked at him and nodded slowly. “I believe you, Harry.”

“I'm sure there must be some way to reverse the effects.”

“Well, I haven't found it.”

“Well, let me see your old essay.” Harry read the rhymes and chuckled and then stopped at Hermione's glare. He then tried several counterspells to remove the charm without luck. He then flicked his wand at the stack of parchments and pulled out all the ones that glowed a light yellow. “I'll be back in a minute, Mione,” and he disappeared. Ten minutes later, he returned with a smile on his face. “I managed to convince Fred to remove the enchantment. You won't need to rewrite the essays.”

Hermione was busy looking over her returned essays.

“The parchments weren't supposed to completely erase what you wrote, they were only supposed to change some of the wording and add a few rhymes. Apparently, it's a product they're still working on.”

“So why are they selling it?”

“They're not. Either Ginny or Ron must have taken some when we were at their store yesterday.” They looked at each other for a moment and then both said “Ginny,” together.

Hermione got a cold glint in her eye and whispered, “What if we…” Two hours later, their plans made and their homework finished, they returned to the common room.

As they entered, Ron and Neville came running up to Harry and then paused as they saw Hermione.

“What's the matter?”

“Our room, Harry. It's uhh…all pink and frilly.”

“And it has little teddy bears and coloured balloons and valentine pillows everywhere,” added Neville. “And we can't get rid of any of it. And we can't find any of our stuff, Harry.”

Hermione chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” demanded Ron.

“Isn't it obvious?” retorted Hermione as she headed towards her room. “Oh, by the way, Harry, once you find your stuff again I would make sure I thoroughly checked everything you own for jinxes, especially your books and clothing. Good night boys,” she finished rather cheerfully and disappeared through the tapestry into her room.

“But Hermione! I didn't switch the scrolls…” but stopped as she disappeared from sight.

All three heard Hermione's voice from her room drift back towards them. “Three words, Potter. Quidditch themed bedroom.”

Sighing, Harry turned away and walked towards the stairs. “Come on then, let's see what she's done to our room.”

“What are you worried about Harry? You shouldn't have any problem undoing one of Hermione's spells,” insisted Neville, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.

“I hope not,” muttered Harry.

---

Friday morning at breakfast, five bleary-eyed, seventh-year Gryffindor boys slowly ate their breakfast.

“Have a good night's sleep boys?” laughed Ginny, who quickly dodged a piece of toast thrown her way by her cranky brother.

Hermione snuck up behind Harry and while giving him a hug whispered in his ear, “Sleep well Harry?”

Moving over to give her a spot to sit down, he replied sullenly. “Not particularly. It only took me ten minutes to restore the room to its proper state. But it took me most of the night to finish checking all of my books and clothes.”

“And he kept us up all night while he did it,” complained Dean Thomas.

“Poor boys,” chuckled Lavender.

“And you didn't even do anything to my books!” complained Harry.

“Well of course not. You should know I would never do anything to harm a book,” laughed Hermione.

“Then why did you tell me to…oh, never mind! But I can't believe you actually used those spells on my robes! Would you have really let me wear those in public?” asked Harry.

“What did she do to them?” asked Ron.

Harry noticed Ginny looking on curiously as well, with a slight smile on her face. His face reddening, Harry glared at both of the Weasleys. “Never mind,” he snapped.

---

Later that evening, dirty and sore, Harry was wolfing down his dinner after another grueling day of training with Samuel. Ron was next to him, still complaining about sore muscles from dueling the day before. Hermione kept rubbing a sore shoulder as well while she finished off her plate. Ginny seemed annoyingly happy as she bounced over to the trio telling them to hurry up and finish or they'd be late for practice. Ron quickly told her where she could go and Hermionie glanced up quickly.

“I think I'll come and watch, too,” she volunteered.

“Yeah, you should. Harry's been bragging about some new moves he'd like to show you,” teased Ginny.

Hermione just smiled. Ginny left, followed a few minutes later by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione found a spot in the stands, whistling happily to herself while the players went and got their gear and changed into their practice uniforms.

When they came back on the field, everyone mounted their brooms and began flying around the pitch while Ron started barking orders. “Where's Gin? Get out here and get into formation. We don't have all night to practice!”

Ginny came running out of the changing rooms carrying her broom. She glared at her brother and mounted her broom. She and Ron then stared in amazement as the broom flew off without her. It then shot skyward rapidly, then dove into a series of huge loops while it barrel rolled. Everyone else stopped to watch in shock. It lapped the field several times, then arched high again before diving again towards Ginny and Ron. Their eyes widened as the broom burst into flame and plummeted earthward like a fiery comet. The last burning embers hit the ground a few feet in front of the siblings as they watched in amazement.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” exclaimed Ron.

“My broom!” shrieked Ginny. “But that's imp…” Her head snapped sideways as she heard laughter. On the side of the field, Hermione's hands were in front of her face, trying to quiet her chuckles. Harry had been hovering nearby, but was laughing so hard that he fell off of his broom. Hermione went to help him up while Ginny stalked over angrily, with Ron close behind.

“How could you!” she shrieked.

Catching his breath, Harry chortled, “Oh relax, Gin, your broom is behind Mione on the bench.”

“Besides, your broom has too many protective spells to jinx it like that,” added Hermione. “We transfigured one of the school mops. You should have seen your faces!” And both Hermione and Harry began laughing again.

“Well, if you two are done wasting our practice time teasing my sister, then…”

“This was payback,” answered Hermione. “Gin knows what I'm talking about.”

“Fine,” snapped Ginny, “so are we even now?”

“Afraid not, Gin. I still owe you one,” replied Hermione with a smile.

“This was my prank. Gin, you should know by now that if you mess with one of us, you mess with both of us,” added Harry.

“But don't worry, I won't make you wait long,” smiled Hermione mischievously.

“Fine,” snapped a red-faced Ron, “can we get back to practice now? Assuming you two are done, that is…”

Harry winked at Hermione, grabbed Ginny's broom and climbed out of the stadium seats with both brooms back onto the field.

“Here you go Gin,” he replied with a wide smile. “That was a nice try, trying to frame me for the joking scrolls.”

She glared at him for a moment, then smiled widely. “I didn't think you'd figure it out that quickly. I thought you two would go at it a bit longer. And I have to admit, that was a pretty good one Potter.” Then her face went deadly serious. “But don't ever mess with my broom again.”

Harry smiled and nodded as he mounted his broom and swung into the sky. Practice went much more smoothly afterwards.

---

Harry and Hermione had nearly finished breakfast when Ginny arrived at breakfast Saturday morning. Harry was laughing at something Ron had said as Ginny put some salt and pepper on her eggs. As she bit into her eggs, there was a muffled explosion and everyone at the Gryffindor table looked up in shock.

“Uhh, Gin…Your hair, it's, uhh, I think it's on fire,” stammered Ron. Ginny's long red curls were dancing and waving in a flame of fire encircling her head. The silence along the Gryffindor table wase slowly replaced by chuckles and laughter, led by Harry and Hermione. Holding a spoon and gazing at her reflection, Ginny started laughing too.

Glancing at Hermione, she chuckled. “Wicked, Hermione. You've got to teach me the spell for this one.”

Harry and Hermione paused for a minute, then began laughing harder. Ron simply rolled his eyes and muttered, “You're nutters, the whole lot of you!” as he shoved another mouthful of pancakes into his mouth.

Ginny was the center of attention in the Great Hall as other students came to marvel at the latest prank that had been played. Finishing their breakfast, Harry and Hermione slipped off to the library to do some research on Atlantis. Harry had explained to Hermione that Samuel was gone for the weekend on some sort of special project, so he had offered to help Hermione track down useful books in the library. They took a short break for lunch and Hermione returned to the library while Harry went to Quidditch practice. Apparently Ginny thought the flaming hair spell was very amusing, it was still whipping her red hair around when she showed up for practice. Harry and the rest of the team laughed all through practice, she looked like a miniature comet as she glided around the Quidditch pitch.

After dinner, Harry returned to the library with Hermione. Tired from searching through stacks of dusty tomes, Harry and Hermione discussed the possibility of restarting the DA club. Hermione suggested that they hold it after Quidditch practices on Mondays and Wednesdays. Harry wasn't too keen on adding more things on two very busy days, but Hermione convinced him that many of the students could use some extra help reviewing for Snape's DADA classes. Sensing Harry's reluctance, Hermione volunteered to plan the meetings and organize the practice sessions, and Harry happily accepted the extra help.

Sitting together on their favorite couch in the Gryffindor common room later that evening, Harry thought about how busy he was and how many challenges he and Hermione still faced, but, looking over at her radiant face reflecting the light of the fire, he knew he wouldn't wish for anything else. He closed his eyes contentedly and pulled Hermione a little closer as he relaxed.

--

Two weeks later, Harry and Hermione were heading to a special DA meeting they had scheduled for that evening. They passed the door three times, and then entered. Oddly, there was nobody there yet. Hermione checked her watch, thinking maybe they were early. They were, but only by two minutes.

“Where is everybody?” she asked, not noticing Harry's smile.

“I dunno,” came the reply. “What's that?” he asked, pointing to a rolled scroll on one of the side tables. He stood by her as she read it softly.

“You are invited to a birthday party…” There was a disorienting sensation and then she reappeared in a large room with soft couches, chairs and music playing on an elaborate stereo system. A split second later, Harry appeared right beside her.

“Harry! You can't just portkey me to your house. What is going…”

Shouts of “Surprise!” and “Happy Birthday!” rang throughout Harry's parlor as students jumped into view.

Gryffindors and DA members swarmed around her giving her hugs and wishing her a happy birthday.

“Mum! Dad!” she shrieked and ran over to give her parents huge hugs.

Harry wandered over to say hello to Mrs. Weasley. “This was a wonderful idea, Harry. There's plenty of food in the kitchen. I still can't believe Dumbledore gave you permission to have a party here for Hermione.”

“Yeah, uhh, I better go say hi to her folks. I'll catch up with you later Molly. Thanks again for all the help.”

Harry walked over quickly and chatted with them for awhile with Hermione. They were both very grateful for Harry's invitation, as was Hermione. It had been a long time since they had been together for her birthday. While they talked, many of the students were either dancing or eating from one of the tables groaning under huge plates of food. It looked like Ron was doing both.

Dobby's knees were shaking as he carried a massive birthday cake above his head and everybody broke into song. Hermione blew out all the candles and Harry cut the cake and started passing out slices. Then Hermione opened her presents. She was very happy with a three volume set on advanced Arithmancy by Miriana Podgewick that her Gryffindor classmates had pooled their money together to purchase for her. The DA members had bought her an undetectable wand holster made of dragonhide. In an envelope from her parents she found two tickets to Rome.

“We thought you and Harry might like to take another trip with us over vacation.” They both got very happy hugs from Hermione. There were several more nice presents from the Weasleys and finally, a large box from Harry. She opened it and pulled out a backpack. She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Harry. Laughter broke out around the room.

“Nice one, Harry!” “What a romantic!” “Smooth, Harry, real smooth,” and other less helpful comments erupted from the crowd.

“It's a bag like my pouch. I had the twins make it for you. No more carrying around forty pounds of books on your back. Now you just reach in and pull out whatever book you might need.”

“Thanks, Harry!” and she wrapped him up in a huge hug.

“And there might be another small gift later,” he added and winked.

They had some more cake, and then they went out to dance with many of their friends. She laid her head on his shoulder as they danced to a slow, romantic song. “Thank you Harry. This is the best birthday I've ever had.”

“Good. I'm glad.” Then they just danced, enjoying the music, the company, and their time together.

Several songs later, Hermione spoke again. “Umm, Harry? Shouldn't people be getting back? We don't want them to get caught after hours by the prefects doing rounds.”

“Oh, that's not a problem. Both of the prefects on duty are here tonight.”

“Harry! I can't believe you! You're going to get half the school thrown into detention!”

“Don't worry, Hermione. Just enjoy your party. I'll send everyone back to Hogwarts soon.”

Half an hour later, Harry announced it was time for everyone to head home. Harry arranged several portkeys to take the students back to their separate common rooms. Hermione watched in amazement as he created them.

“I thought Hogwart's defensive wards blocked the use of portkeys inside the walls? How did you…”

“They do. I've simply added a countercharm to the portkey to bypass the defensive wards.”

“But how…”

“Well, I was worried that Voldemort might try something like that last year, so I made a very close study of the defensive wards last year. You can use a portkey to get into Hogwarts—but you can't portkey in or out with a wand and you have to use the correct charm to bypass the wards, which I happened to discover.”

“You never cease to amaze me, Harry.”

“Wait until you see your other present.”

Several of the Weasleys stayed with Harry and Hermione to help clean up which didn't take long.

Hermione and Harry thanked the Weasley's and Dobby for all of their help and said their final goodbyes to the Grangers.

Hermione loaded her gifts into her backpack, and with Ron and Ginny, portkeyed back to the Gryffindor common room. Harry teleported there a moment later and gave Hermione her wand back.

“Good night guys,” said Harry.

“What? I'm not tired yet, I thought we'd hang out…”

“No, we're both tired. Come on Ron,” insisted Ginny, tugging on his arm.

“Oh, right, right,” and he winked at Harry. “Have fun kids. Don't stay up too late.” Harry rolled his eyes and Hermione blushed.

When they were alone in the common room, Harry pulled out two small boxes and pulled off the lids. Hermione gasped in delight at the beautiful heart pendant she saw and reached for it.

“Wait. Don't touch it just yet—it's not finished yet.”

Hermione looked at him with a quizzical expression.

“This,” stated Harry, tapping the box with the pendant, “is for you. This one,” he pointed to the box that had a simple diamond stud earring, “is for me.” Seeing her confused look he continued. “Let me finish explaining. You've seen the Weasley's clock, right?” At her nod he continued. “Now that clock has a very complex set of spells, some very powerful magic went into the creation of that artifact. The spells I have put on these are powerful, but not nearly as complicated. The first spell is a type of monitoring spell. It will basically tell you about the general physical condition of the person wearing the other piece of jewelry. Basically, as long as your necklace stays warm, you'll always know that I'm OK. If it ever goes cold, well… And the same goes for my earring. But you have to finish casting the spell on the earring, and I need to finish the spell for your necklace—otherwise they won't work. The second spell will act as a homing beacon if we should ever get separated, helping us to find each other again.”

“Harry! This is wonderful! How did you…”

“Creating these items was a special research project I have been working on with Flitwick. I hope you like the necklace…”

“Harry, I love it. How do we finish the spell?

“Just do what I do,” instructed Harry, pulling out his wand and picking up the necklace. “Decerno salus.”

“Decerno salus.” repeated Hermione holding her wand and Harry's earring.

Harry then put the necklace around Hermione's neck and clasped it.

“Umm, Harry. Why did you choose an earring instead of something like a ring?”

“Well, Hunt told me that sometimes magical rings can interfere with wand use, they can affect the spells you cast sometimes. He said that wasn't a very good thing for an Auror, even if it is a very rare occurrence.”

“I've never heard of that,” admitted Hermione.

“Really? I'll have to be sure and write that down then.” He lifted a finger and started spelling flaming letters in midair. “Hermione Granger did not know that…oww” he finished as Hermione punched him in the arm.

“And besides, Bill convinced me it would be pretty cool. I'm not so sure so I put a cloaking charm on it so that people won't be able to see it or detect its magical properties. Yours has a cloaking charm as well.”

“But I want people to see it.”

“That's what I thought so the cloaking just conceals its magical properties.”

“Well, would you like me to pierce your ear for you then?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said do you want me to pierce your ear for you? How do you think the earring is going to stay in?”

“Uhh—a sticking charm?”

“Don't be silly. Sit still—this won't hurt very much.”

“What?!”

Hermione deftly grabbed Harry's ear and placed her wand tip on his earlobe. “Percutio.”

“OWW!”

“I thought you were tough?”

“I thought you said it wouldn't hurt very much.”

“It wouldn't have—if you were tough.”

“Whatever. Just put the earring in for me then or is that going to hurt as well?”

“Nope, the hard part is all done.” Hermione quickly fastened the ear stud and then stepped back to admire her handiwork. But it disappeared as soon as her hands left the earring.

“Look, there's one other thing about your pendant.” He reached forward and grabbed the pendant and opened a tiny clasp. When the heart opened, Hermione could see a three dimensional image of her and Harry holding hands, laughing, and then giving each other a kiss. “I got one of Colin's wizard pictures and tweaked it a little. Do you like it?”

In response, Hermione simply kissed him. Later, as they sat their soaking in the warmth of the fire on the couch, Harry spoke.

“Mione, have you ever heard of Artemis Dumbledore?”

“Artemis Dumbledore? A relative of Dumbledore?”

“I don't know. I think so.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Last Monday, while I was on a training exercise with Hunt on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, I saw Dumbledore, dressed all in black, visiting a small graveyard just outside of town.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And Professor McGonagall was there too. And she was dressed in black too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They were only there for a few minutes. They left some flowers by a small gravestone and then left.”

“And the name on the headstone was Artemis Dumbledore?”

“Yeah. She died Sept 14, 1944.”

“Was there a birthdate?”

“1906. May 15^th, 1906. She was thirty-eight.”

“I know he has a brother—I didn't know he had a sister.”

“But why did McGonagall go with him?”

“I suppose she could have gone with him for comfort, but…I don't know. What made you think of this?”

“Ahh. Well, I sometimes wish I had something from my parents besides old pictures and a vault at Gringott's. Everything they had was destroyed—I don't have anything else left of them. I don't even know where they're buried, or if they were. That's partly why I got you the heart locket. I want you to always have something to remember me by in case…well, in case…”

“Oh Harry, don't talk like that. We have years and years to spend together. I'm not going to let anyone take you away from me. You're going to be stuck with me for a very long time, Mr. Potter.” She then leaned closer and kissed Harry lovingly.

Several minutes later, Harry leaned his forehead against Hermione's and whispered. “Happy birthday, love.”

“Thank you, Harry. For everything.” She gave him a final kiss and then walked to her room as Harry watched from the couch before climbing the stairs to his own room.

--

Harry cheerfully sat down next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table the next morning. Ron was already halfway through his first plate of pancakes and eggs as he pulled a pitcher of juice towards him and topped off his glass.

“Bwant sub, Bin?” he asked as he lifted the pitcher towards his sister.

“No thanks, Ron. And finish chewing before you talk, nobody's going to steal your food.”

Ignoring her, he then stretched the pitcher towards Neville, who was sitting across the table from Gin with his eyes down. “Wabbat ju, Nibble?”

Neville simply shook his head.

“Berry?” Gulp. “Hermione? You guys want any of this juice?”

Harry had an odd expression on his face as Hermione lifted her half-empty glass.

“You don't want the juice, Hermione.”

“What?”

“Trust me.”

“Uhh, no thanks Ron. I'm fine.”

“Good. More for me.” They all resumed their breakfast. About five minutes later, there were a number of exclamations that burst out along the tables.

Harry looked up to see many of the older students clapping hands to their faces and pointing at each other. At first it appeared that there must have been some widespread outbreak of allergic reactions to something the students were eating in the Hall. On closer inspection he noticed that all the red rashes were actually in the form of a pair of lips on people's cheeks and lips. He noticed Hermione looking around in shock and then glanced at Ron, who was still eating. Then he noticed that not only were their several pairs of lips on his friend's face, but that there was a set of initials next to each set. And Ron's face had several different sets of initials. He caught Hermione's eye and flicked his glance towards Ron.

A wide smile crossed her face. A scary smile, not a happy smile. “So Ron, I guess you had a really good time at the party last night, huh?” she asked.

Ron looked up and nodded while he finished chewing.

“Would LB and PP agree?”

Ron's face froze and he blanched slightly.

“Would that be Lavender and Padma? Or was it Parvati?

“And who is JN?” asked Ginny innocently.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” insisted a pale Ron.

“No? Well, they might,” suggested Harry, nodding in the direction of Lavender Brown and the Patil twins. All three had gotten out of their seats and were walking very angrily in their direction. Both Lavender and Padma had lip prints with the initials RW next to them on their faces.

“Ronald Weasley!” they shouted in unison as Ron stood hastily and looked around for an escape. Their voices rang out over the din of several other rather heated discussions that were breaking out throughout the hall. At the Hufflepuff table, one of the girls from DA stood up and glared at Ron as well. Ron's head whipped back and forth between the four enraged girls and he ran for the doors, with the four girls only several steps behind.

Harry watched and sighed, “Poor Ron. I hope he survives.”

“Poor Ron?!” snorted Hermione and Ginny in disgust.

“Looks like he's going to get exactly what he deserves, if he's been leading all three of them on, as well as Cho Chang,” declared Ginny.

“Maybe he'll learn an important lesson, if they don't kill him first,” finished Hermione.

“Poor Ron,” repeated Harry. Ginny and Hermione just rolled their eyes and finished watching the rest of the fireworks in the Great Hall.

A few minutes later, Harry turned to Ginny and asked, “So I guess the twins finally worked out the kinks in the Kiss'n'Tell powder, huh Gin?”

“Gosh Harry, I have no idea what you're talking about,” smiled Gin as she finished her bite of bacon. Neville snorted.

“She hasn't pulled you into her little web has she, Neville?” asked Harry.

Neville shook his head no, but still refused to make eye contact. Harry chuckled.

“Do I need to remind you that she's a Weasley? And quite possibly, the most dangerous one of all?”

Neville raised his head and looked directly at Harry and smiled. “I don't mind. Besides, she's only dangerous to those who cross her.”

Harry sat back and chuckled, then finished his breakfast, careful to avoid the juice.

--

Harry finally found Ron later that afternoon flying laps on the Quidditch field and managed to convince him to come in for the night. They made small talk as they made their way back to the castle.

As they walked through the outer gate, Harry asked Ron, “Rough day, huh?”

“Yeah. That's an understatement. None of them want anything to do with me again. After they finished screaming, they wouldn't even listen to my side. I tell you what, Harry, if I ever find out who pulled that…” promised Ron as he smacked a large fist loudly into his open palm.

“What?!” asked Harry. “Are you upset because of what you did or that you got caught?”

“What do you mean what I did? I didn't do anything wrong!”

“What?! Apparently you've been leading on four different girls, making each of them think you like them!”

“I do like them. I like them all. Let me tell you, Harry, that Lavender. Wow! She can really…”

“Shut up Ron. I don't want to hear about it.”

“What's the matter with you Harry? Why so self righteous all of a sudden? Oh, let me guess. Saint Hermione has forbidden you from…”

“Leave Hermione out of this. She's got nothing to do with it.”

“Whatever…”

“I'm talking about what you've been doing to all those girls, playing with their feelings and…Don't you feel the least bit guilty?”

“No. Why should I? None of them would have given me the time of day a year ago—I was always in your shadow. But now, now I've done stuff on my own. I'm a prefect. I'm the Quidditch captain. I fought in the war—I've got the scars to prove it. I'm not just your sidekick anymore. And if that's the reason they're willing to go out with me, then fine. But doesn't that make them just as shallow as you're accusing me of being? If they're just going out with me because I'm the Quidditch captain or I've got some cool scar from the war, how does that make them better than me?”

Harry just looked at him, unsure how to answer. Ron turned and stomped off while Harry tried to catch up.

“I don't need someone else to lecture me, Harry. I get all I need from Mum and Hermione.”

“Ron, I'm not trying to lecture you or tell you what to…”

“And what are you two doing out here? What are you doing with my sister?” snapped Ron as he and Harry almost ran over Neville and Ginny, who were walking down the steps from the main doors of the castle.

“It's none of your business Ron,” snapped an irate Ginny.

“Well, I'm your brother and I'm making it my business. I don't want anyone treating my little sister”

“like you treat your girlfriends?” retorted Ginny, her hands on her hips.

“That's enough!” threatened Ron and took a step closer to the pair on the steps. “We're talking about you, not me!”

Neville stepped forward, putting himself between Ron and Ginny. “It's alright Ginny,” he started.

“Neville, you don't have to leave just because my brother is acting like a complete idiot!” fumed Ginny.

“That's not what I meant.” Neville then turned and looked directly at Ron, then stepped down a step so that they were on the same level. Harry noticed that Neville looked taller, more formidable somehow, even though he was still an inch or two shorter than Ron. “Ginny and I were just going to go for a walk around the lake. I would never do anything that might hurt or upset your sister in any way, Ron. She's one of my best friends. If that's not good enough for you, then that's your problem, not mine. Come on Gin, let's go.” Neville turned to Gin and lightly grasped her elbow, pulling her forward. She seemed a little shocked by Neville's actions.

“See you later Harry,” added Neville as he and Ginny walked by on their way to the lake.

Ron stood still, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched the two of them walk off.

As he turned to enter the castle, Harry spoke to the retreating back of Ron, “If Lavender or Padma were your sister, would you want someone to treat them like you have?”

Ron kept walking as he growled his response over his shoulder. “Shut up Potter. I'm done talking about this.”

-->

Ch 26: A Hunting We Will Go

As the air around Hogwart's turned steadily crisper, Harry enjoyed the autumn season. While his schedule of Auror training, classes, and Quidditch practice kept him very busy, nevertheless he was very happy. As September turned into October he was looking forward to the Quidditch Tournament, when all four teams would play over the weekend to put together an All-Star team to compete against the teams from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. While he had almost felt overwhelmed during his first several weeks of classes, Harry was feeling much better about his ability to deal with the rigorous training with Hunt, the intensive dueling in Snape's class, and the demands of his other classes. Thanks to his extensive conditioning, Quidditch practice was more of a joyful exercise than a burden, and Hermione did most of what he considered the hard work of running the DA club, drawing up lesson plans and organizing meetings—all he had to do was show up and help the students practice the spells until they learned them. All in all, things were going very well and he was very happy at Hogwarts with Hermione and his other friends.

---

As the weekend of the tournament drew nearer Ron grew even more intense, if that were possible. Harry had always enjoyed Quidditch, even the manic sessions with Wood, but Harry was beginning to have some doubts. And he wasn't the only one—Ginny and Ron's tempers were getting increasingly short, especially with each other. When they couldn't eat at completely different times, they sat at opposite ends of the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were on better terms, but they hadn't had any more discussions about girls since the day after Hermione's birthday.

The night before the tournament was to begin, all of the students were extremely nervous as they finished their dinner and talked animatedly amongst themselves. When several of the team members asked where Ron was, Harry replied, “I think he's in our room writing up new plays for tomorrow.”

“He skipped dinner?” asked Hermione in a shocked voice. By the looks on many other Gryffindor students, she was not the only one who was surprised. After dinner, Harry and Hermione chatted as they headed back to the common room but were stopped by a low voice from the shadows.

“Constant vigilance, Potter!” chuckled Hunt as he watched the two jump back and whip out their wands.

“Blimey, Hunt! Don't you have anything better to do than skulk around in the shadows, trying to scare students witless?” barked Harry.

Samuel laughed again. Then his eyes hardened. “Actually I do, Potter. We do have something better to do.”

“We? What do you mean?”

Samuel glanced up and down the hall quickly, then motioned for the pair to follow him into an empty classroom. He sealed the door and made sure they couldn't be overheard.

“I just got a tip about where some of those escaped Death Eaters might be hiding. I thought you and I would go find out.” His eyes gleamed with a strange light.

“Tonight? But I have a Quidditch match tomorrow…” began Harry.

“Quidditch? Dammit Potter! Why do you think I've been training you?” He paused before continuing in a cold, hard voice. “Maybe I've been wasting my time with you. Tell you what—you go play in your game tomorrow if it's so important.” He turned to leave and was halfway to the door before Harry managed to grab his arm.

“Hunt, I didn't mean it like that. You just caught me by surprise is all. Of course I'm in.” Harry glanced quickly at Hermione. “When do we leave?”

“Shouldn't you notify the Ministry?” suggested Hermione.

“I've already talked to Dumbledore. And no offense to Arthur or Remus, but they still have a lot of work to do straightening out the mess at the Ministry. By the time someone there decides what to do, it will be too late—they'll be gone. No, if we want to nail them, we do it ourselves. And we leave in five minutes.”

“I'll meet you at the front gates in five then,” replied Harry and turned to Hermione. “I'll grab my stuff and be back in a minute.” He gave her a quick kiss and then disappeared.

Hermione turned towards Samuel but he spoke first. “I'm sorry Miss Granger, but Dumbledore would never let me take both of his favorite students. Don't worry, he is ready for this.”

“I know. I just worry. You'll watch out for him won't you?”

“Of course. But you don't need to worry. He's the best wizard I've ever trained with. He'll be fine.”

Hermione nodded, her face expressionless as she watched Hunt leave. “You have to be strong,” she kept telling herself. “He'll be fine. He defeated Voldemort, for crying out loud! You knew this day would come. He's training to be an Auror after all. This is what he'll be doing the rest of his life—you might as well get used to it.” Though she told herself to be strong, it didn't provide much comfort as she waited in the quiet classroom.

Walking down the dark hallway, Samuel tried to forget the recent discussion he had just finished with Hermione. It reminded him of too many conversations just like it from long ago. That look of fear and worry in her eyes was a familiar one, he had seen it in the faces of the loved ones of many of his best friends. He only hoped he would never have to see the look of grief and heartbreak on Hermione's face that he had seen on far too many others when he had to inform them of the death of one of their loved ones. “But Potter is different. He's sharper, and faster, and more powerful than anyone I've ever trained with before. But he's still young and eager and though he's experienced in combat, he's never done the kind of things I've been training him to do. And it's always the young ones who died first. But Potter is different. Potter is different.” He kept telling himself that, hoping it would be true.

When Harry appeared in his room, he was surprised to find it empty. He had planned on telling Ron, but there was no time to find him, so he simply grabbed a warm cloak and pulled on a pair of heavy boots. He already had his wand and with his pouch, he could access whatever else he might need. Samuel hadn't mentioned where they were headed, so he grabbed his broom just in case he needed it. As he reached for his broom, he was happily surprised to notice that his hands weren't shaking. “Why am I not afraid? Should I be? Have I faced so many dangers that it no longer bothers me—no, I am nervous, I'm just not afraid. All those times before, I faced danger because I had to, I really had no other choice. But this time, I'm deciding to do this on my own. Hunt or some Aurors from the Ministry could do this—I don't have to try and track down these Death Eaters.

Am I an idiot? Do I have a death wish?

No, I don't think so. For some reason I have been blessed with these amazing powers—and I think I can make the world a better place.”

The words of the oath that he had taken when accepting the Sword of Gryffindor and the feelings he had felt that night suddenly flashed through his mind. ”Fighting evil and defending the weak—it almost sounded like some corny line from one of those action movies Dudley liked to watch—but it actually means something to me, and to Mione, and to Dumbledore and Hunt and Lupin. It meant something special to all those in the Order who gave their lives in following those two ideals, including both of my parents and Sirius. And this is exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life.” With a last, quick glance around the room, Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and disappeared.

When he reappeared in the classroom behind Hermione, he saw her standing stiffly staring at the door. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her and squeezed gently. “You okay Mione?”

“Yeah, I think so. I'm just trying to get used to the idea of you…of you going off like this,” she said softly.

“Yeah, I was thinking about that too. Try not to worry too much, Mione. I'll be careful, I promise.”

“I know, I know. It's just hard,” she said, clasping her pendant tightly.

“I know, but this is something I need to do. Something I want to do.” In a lighter tone, he added, “Besides, I'm very good at beating the bad guys and saving the world.”

Hermione chuckled. “Don't go getting a big head, Potter. Or I'll have to tell Hunt.” Turning around, she looked deeply into his eyes. “And you come back to me in one piece as soon as you can, you understand?”

“I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed her. Then he disappeared and she walked back to her room alone through the shadowed halls.

--

The next morning, a bleary eyed Hermione poked at her porridge listlessly. Across the table from her, Ron slumped into his seat and looked intently at her.

“So, where's Harry? Don't tell me he's doing extra training on the first day of the tournament. I don't need him all tuckered out if we're going to win against…” he wandered off as Hermione looked up slowly at him.

“I don't know where he is, Ron,”

“WHAT?! What do you mean?”

“I mean he's gone and I don't know where he is…I thought he told you yesterday…”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HARRY'S GONE?! HOW CAN OUR SEEKER NOT BE HERE FOR THE FIRST DAY OF THE TOURNAMENT? DOESN'T HARRY KNOW…”

Hermine stood up and replied as heads everywhere in the hall looked their way. “Keep your voice down you idiot. Let me explain it to you again in small words so that even you should be able to understand. And I'll say them slowly. Harry is gone and I don't know where he went,” she hissed angrily. Hermione turned her head as tears started leaking from her eyes and she grabbed her bag and moved away from the table. As she stepped towards the door she bumped into McGonagall, who had heard the commotion from outside the Hall and stepped inside to see what all the commotion was about.

Ron's face turned beet red and he stood as well, clenching his fists at his sides.

“What is going on here?” demanded McGonagall.

“I don't know. Ask her. She's the one going mental,” muttered Ron, pointing at Hermione. “All I did was ask where Harry is—you know we need him for the match today.”

With a sharp look at Hermione, she looked back at Ron. “Believe me, Mr. Weasley, I want to win as badly as any Gryffindor. If Mr. Potter is not here, I am sure there is a very good reason for it. You will simply have to adjust your strategy.”

“You can say that again—how are we supposed to win without the best Seeker in the school? How could he do this to me?” muttered Ron under his breath.

McGonagall heard him however and advised in a low whisper. “There is no need to give up, Mr. Weasley—even without Mr. Potter you have one of the strongest teams Hogwarts has seen in years. You are the captain—start acting like it.” She turned to talk to Hermione, but she was already gone. She looked up and down the hall but did not find her. She then caught Dumbledore's glance, nodded briefly, and then left the hall.

“Oi!” bellowed Ron. “All Gryffindor Quidditch players will meet me in the locker room in fifteen minutes! No exceptions and don't be late!” When one of the new beaters protested, saying that they had an hour and a half before the match started, Ron growled, “Wanna make it ten? Good, then finish eating.” Then he stomped out of the hall.

--

McGonagall checked the library first and then headed to the Gryffindor common room. She pulled the bell rope outside of Hermione's room and then stated clearly, “Miss Granger, I would like a word with you.”

The tapestry shimmered for a moment, and McGonagall stepped through into Hermione's tidy bedroom. There was a canopied bed, but it was nearly buried from sight by piles of books stacked neatly on various tables in the room. She hid a smile as she sat down across from the young woman staring at the floor.

“I assume Harry is out training with Samuel?”

Hermione nodded.

“He has been gone before, hasn't he? What makes this exercise different from the others?”

Hermione looked up. “Dumbledore didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

The emotions on Hermione's face froze between shock, fear, and anxiety.

“I've probably already said more than I should. I shouldn't have said anything in the great hall…”

McGonagall's face looked very concerned now. “Do you know where Harry went?”

A variety of emotions passed over Hermione's face, and then she made her decision. “No. But this wasn't an ordinary training session, either. They're out hunting Death Eaters. And they're a long ways away from here.” Hermione didn't notice the look of shock on McGonagall's face as she finished. “They're so far away, I can barely sense my telepathic connection with Harry. I've never felt so alone. What do I do? What do I do? I should be there, beside him, helping him…”

“Sometimes, you will be by his side, helping him. Sometimes, you can help more by not being a distraction, by staying somewhere safe, out of harm's way. But I know it's not easy, Hermione. Actually, I think the waiting is the hardest task of all,” whispered McGonagall, who was not looking at Hermione, but staring into the fire.

Hermione glanced up at McGonagall, and then looked into the fire as well.

“I wish I could tell you that the waiting gets easier over time. Or that the dread that fills your stomach every time someone you care for leaves to confront a new threat and make the world a little safer for the rest of us goes away over time. Or that the anger at feeling useless or being left behind becomes easier to deal with, but it doesn't—at least very much. You and Harry are destined for great things. I have sensed that for a long time. But it has not been easy, as you well know. Nor will it likely get much easier in the future.”

“Then how do you deal with it?”

“The only thing I've found that helps is to stay busy with other things, try to continue your life as normally as possible, Hermione. And always remember that the things you are accomplishing, the people you are helping, are worth the price you are paying.”

For a few minutes, both women sat and watched the flames in the fireplace slowly die down.

“Now, if you'd like something to do before we watch the Quidditch matches, you can come with me while I ask Professor Dumbledore why he didn't see fit to notify me that one of my students went off chasing Death Eaters.”

Noticing the hard tone in her voice, Hermione thought that watching Dumbledore defend himself to McGonagall would probably be better than any Quidditch match she might see today. Hiding her smile she nodded quickly and followed McGonagall out of her room.

--

The rain continued to fall steadily. Just as it had the entire night. And the stench from the garbage in the alley, combined with his own alcohol-soaked, threadbare clothing, made Harry want to gag. “So this is the glorious life of an Auror? This is what I've spent years hoping I would do someday—lying in an alley full of trash pretending I'm a drunk bum in the pouring rain waiting for some scumbag wizards to show up? Funny, I don't remember reading about this part of the job description in those pamphlets McGonagall gave me. And why do I have to be the drunk bum? Why does Hunt get to be the guy eating at the warm, dry restaurant across the street?”

The distinctive pop of someone Apparating stopped Harry's train of thought. He froze in place, refusing to turn and look, but tried to control his breathing in order to appear asleep. He heard several more pops and then footsteps and low voices.

“Well, what do we have here? Another pathetic Muggle?” Harry's breath exploded from his chest as one of the wizards kicked him sharply in the ribs. He grunted in pain and rolled over. Thinking quickly, he moaned in a thick, raspy voice that accompanied his old, weather beaten face and long white hair. “Who's there? Who's kicking me?” Harry pretended not to be able to see the wand aimed directly at him nor the grinning face of the wizard holding it.

“McNair! That's enough.”

“But I just want to have some fun. Besides, nobody will miss this useless old Muggle.”

Harry lay on the ground whimpering softly even as he clutched his wand tightly under his badly patched coat. “Listen McNair, and you might live just a little bit longer,” he thought. “I want to make sure you're all there before I make a move…go on, leave me alone…don't make me take you guys down early. Go on, go inside.”

“Listen McNair. If the Muggles find a dead body here, they'll be all over this place, looking for answers, even for a worthless Muggle like this. Now get inside and wait for the others, I'll take care of this. Obliviate!”

Harry braced his mental defenses as soon as he heard the first syllable of the spell. They held and he was able to deflect the full force of the spell. Nevertheless, his head snapped back against the brick wall, forcing him to see stars. He collapsed back into the filthy trash of the alley and lay motionless. Through one eyelid that he left partially open, he watched the wizard march through a small wooden door on the opposite side of the alley.

Harry sat up groggily and rubbed his head. He glanced up to curse the falling rain again and noticed a dark shape slowly descending and growing larger. The bird, which turned out to be an owl, landed on the sill of a third floor window and began tapping the window. Harry stared at the owl for a moment and then tapped a small button on the plastic piece that fit snugly behind his ear. Samuel had warned him against using any spells or magical items, since they might set off any wards that the Death Eaters had guarding their meeting place. The muggle cell phone in Harry's pocket was set to automatically dial Samuel's.

“Hello, this is Jim speaking,” replied Samuel.

Harry rolled his eyes at having to go through the verification procedure Samuel had insisted that they use.

“Hi dad, it's Bobby. I missed the school bus again,” replied Harry.

“OK, how can I help?”

“Listen, we've got a problem. We've got to go in now,” whispered Harry urgently.

“Patience, boy. We want to make sure all of your friends are there before…”

“I know. But there's been a change of plans. Someone sent a message from my school. We…”

“What? Are you sure?”

“I'm positive dad. It's gotta be now. We need to find out who sent it.”

“Fine, I'll be at the front door in forty-five minutes. Be ready.”

He quickly looked up. The window had been opened and the owl was nowhere to be seen. Glancing both ways down the alley, Harry quickly glanced at his watch and watched the seconds count down as he slowly stood, trying to shake out the cramps and muscle aches. His side ached slightly where he had been kicked. “I owe you one, McNair,” he thought grimly. He concentrated for a moment, trying to determine if Samuel was correct in assuming that there were spell detection wards in place. He felt a slight tingle and suspected that there were. With fifteen seconds before Samuel was to arrive at the front door, Harry pulled out his wand and began the complicated incantation that would prevent any of them from Apparating away. Dimly, he heard a bell going off inside the house. So Samuel had been right, they did have defensive wards in place. Satisfied that none of them would escape, he stood slightly to the side of the door and bellowed, “Reducto!”

The door blasted apart and then a second explosion propelled all the door fragments straight ahead into the alley while Harry threw his arm in front of his face in a defensive reaction. Though he was out of the direct line of the explosive trap, Harry was still hit by a few pieces and flying splinters. He paused for a moment, trying to sense other traps and then ran through the smoking doorway. His eyes immediately adjusted to the gloom of the dark hallway. A door down the hallway was opening and Harry saw at least one pair of eyes looking out. He saw a dark cloak and didn't hesitate as he raised his wand and sprinted forward. “Reducto!”

The door blasted inward, right off of its hinges and sent wood splinters flying through the room. Harry crouched as he stepped through the doorway and one spell flew harmlessly over his head. He reached under his cloak inside his pouch and pulled out a small globe and tossed it towards the two figures he saw against the wall. Both were immediately trapped within the strong, sticky fibers of a large web. Harry cast a silencing spell on them, then summoned both of their wands which he immediately snapped and left on the ground. He heard a few noises and returned to the hallway. He saw a shadowy figure ahead and raised his wand but realized it was Hunt heading for the stairs. Harry smiled, cloaked himself in invisibility, and shapeshifted into his dragonform. He easily passed Samuel climbing the steps. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure hiding on one of the landings, waiting in ambush for Hunt. Harry swooped down and bit the man deeply on the neck. The man twitched once before falling to the floor unconscious with a loud thud. Harry saw a smile break across Samuel's face as he reached the landing.

“Good job, Potter, but you'll probably want to rinse your mouth out later. I'm sure Death Eaters can't taste that good.” He then chuckled when he heard a soft cough and what sounded like a snake hissing and spitting.

Hunt moved cautiously down a hallway on the second floor, while Harry hovered behind him silently and invisibly. There was a flash of movement and Samuel sprinted after the fleeing Death Eater. Harry moved to fly after them, but then got blown backwards as an enormous explosion engulfed the hallway. Harry transformed back to his human form and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs again. He spotted Samuel laying quietly about ten feet in front of him. He kneeled and quickly found a pulse. Fifteen feet further down the hallway were the charred remains of the Death Eater. Apparently the Death Eater had forgotten about that particularly nasty defensive ward and, luckily for Samuel and Harry, had saved them the trouble of disarming it. Making his decision quickly, Harry cast a disillusionment charm on Samuel and then left him where he was as he quickly finished checking the rest of the second floor for Death Eaters. Finding no more threats on the second floor, he ascended to the third floor by himself.

Approaching one of the doors on the third floor, Harry's keen hearing discerned voices in the room angrily discussing strategy. He shifted back to his human form and listened for a moment, making his own plans. He then took a risk and teleported to the other side of the door, praying there wasn't a chair or something that was in the space in which he would appear. There wasn't and he quickly took in the scene before him while he was still invisible.

One wizard was beside the door with his wand out, waiting to attack whoever came through. A witch was waiting behind a heavy desk, also aiming her wand at the door. The third wizard stood by the fireplace had his wand out as well, but was busy watching a small parchment finish burning. The owl sat perched on a chair by the window, but had no reply message attached to its leg.

Harry teleported to the far side of the room and launched a powerful stunner at the witch hiding behind the large desk. She fell over the top of the desk and lay still while both wizards turned in shock towards Harry, who had disappeared again. He reappeared beside the wizard by the door and launched a vicious hand strike at the man's throat. He dropped his wand and raised both of his hands to his throat as he started to slump to his knees. Harry caught him before he fell to the ground and spun him around in front of him to use as a human shield. The wizard took the full brunt of the spell but was still thrown back into Harry, pinning him to the wall for a moment.

Harry teleported again and was blasted by freezing shards of ice.

“I guess McNair has learned his lesson for picking on defenseless Muggles. But then again, you're no common Muggle are you Potter?” laughed the final wizard.

“How did you know…Somebody from Hogwarts tipped you off I was gone, didn't they…”

“The Dark Lord always said you were a clever boy, far too clever…”

Harry moved as if to brush the ice from his arms and chest while listening but instead launched a stunning spell which the wizard easily dodged, as if he had been expecting it.

The two circled warily for a moment, ignoring the coughing wheezes from the heavily bleeding McNair. Harry changed his form back to his normal appearance.

“The problem with you Death Eaters is that none of you are too clever, you're always choosing the wrong side, the wrong creep to follow, and you're always getting in each other's way,” hissed Harry. “After that spell you hit McNair with, I'm not sure he's going to make it back to his cell in Azkaban. Tell you what, you tell me which one of your Death Snacking friends is hiding at Hogwarts, and I'll go easy on you. Your master couldn't beat me, and neither will you.”

In response, the remaining wizard swung his arm in a large arc and muttered, “Inflammatio arcus!” A roaring fire rushed towards Harry, causing the carpet and walls to burst into flame as well.

Harry quickly countered with a fire charm that prevented him from being hurt by the flames. As the flames grew around him, Harry stretched out a hand and began pulling in the energy from the fire. He then held his wand upright and spun it in a tight circle. He then spoke “Aire Vaccuous,” pointed to the window, and took a deep breath. With a tinkle of glass, the window exploded outwards. The owl, which had been squawking loudly in fright, took the opportunity to escape through the window. There was a loud whoosh as all of the air left the room in a rush, extinguishing the remaining flames. The dark wizard gasped, but there was no air left in the room as Harry moved forward quickly. The wizard feebly tried to lift his wand, but Harry kicked him solidly in the wrist. There was a loud snap and his wand went flying.

The curtains by the broken window fluttered strongly as air rushed back into the room. The dark wizard, clutching his broken wrist, gasped desperately for air as he stared angrily at Harry.

Harry raised his wand threateningly as he stepped nearer, “Who sent the owl from Hogwarts? Who is there?”

The wizard gave a crazy laugh. “Potter!” he spat. “I'm not going back to Azkaban. And I'm not telling you anything. So do your worst!”

“Well, I can always talk to one of your buddies here. Don't worry, I'll find your accomplice at Hogwarts.”

“They don't know who it was, they can't help you.” Then he laughed again.

“Fine, I guess we'll just have to get some Veritaserum. You'll give him up soon enough.” As Harry aimed his wand to cast a binding charm, the door burst open. Harry spun and realized it was Hunt charging into the room. He turned back towards the wizard who had dove for his wand. Harry yelled out “Stupefy!” as Samuel shouted “Incarceo!” Their shouts mingled with the sounds of the third spell that was cast, “Obliviate!” But he didn't cast it at either Harry or Samuel, his wand was pointed at his own head. All three spells hit their mark and left the wizard unconscious on the charred floor.

Samuel cast binding charms on the other witch and wizard, as well as a spell to slow McNair's bleeding, while Harry asked about Hunt's condition. “Are you alright? I can't believe that guy cast a spell that took out his own guy as well.”

“I'll be fine. And remember, there's no such thing as loyalty among dark wizards. They don't care who they kill as long as they get what they want.” As Harry turned to check the fireplace for surviving scraps of the message that had been burnt there he added, “By the way, you did the right thing, leaving me there with a disillusionment charm. It was more important to finish clearing out the house. But you didn't need to burn down the house, did you?”

“That wasn't my spell Hunt. Actually, I was the one who put it out. There's nothing left here of the message, or probably any other evidence, for that matter. And he said nobody else knew who was there at Hogwarts.” He then glanced at the wizard lying on the floor. “And for some reason I doubt he'll be doing any talking anytime soon. I'm not sure what the effects of casting Obliviate on yourself are but it can't be good when combined with the effects of the other two spells we hit him with.”

“I doubt it. Well, let's finish searching this room for clues—that won't take long considering its condition—and then I'll call in the cavalry to finish mopping up.”

“Why didn't you call in some Aurors to help us out?”

“Two reasons. Besides Remus, I don't know any of them. And I don't know if Remus and Arthur have had time to find and get rid of all the bad ones yet.”

Harry nodded and then they searched the room thoroughly, but Hunt was right. There was nothing indicating whether the escaped Death Eaters had any further plans, where the remaining Death Eaters might be, or who the spy at Hogwart's might be. Their only hope was that the Aurors might be able to get some useful information out of the nine Death Eaters they had captured.

Lupin himself arrived with five Aurors shortly after Hunt notified him. He spoke with both Samuel and Harry briefly—he didn't seem very happy that Samuel had left him out of the loop or that he had brought Harry along with him. They both told their versions of the capture of the Death Eaters to Lupin and one of the other officers. Harry was very tired by the time he was done speaking with them.

Lupin pulled him aside after his second interview. “You've done an outstanding job here today, Harry.”

“Come on, Remus, we didn't get all of them, and the only one who could have led us to the rest of the Death Eaters managed to make sure he couldn't give us any information. And it's my fault, because we went in early.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Harry. You made the right call. You might not have been able to get all of them here today anyways. And now we know that we have to be extra careful at Hogwarts. None of those who came today managed to escape. You and Samuel are both fine. That's all that matters. That's how these battles are fought Harry. A little bit at a time. Very seldom do you get to wipe out the entire enemy in one day, like you did with Voldemort. And we know now that we didn't even get all of them that day Harry. Now go back to school and take a couple of days off—I'll handle the rest of the paperwork. I understand you have a tournament you need to win for Gryffindor.”

Harry grinned. “Well, if you don't need me anymore, I'll take off then. But let me talk to Hunt first.” Lupin told him which room he was in and Harry walked out after saying goodbye.

Harry knocked on the door and entered. Hunt and the Auror looked up. “Lupin told me to head on back to school, so unless there is something else you need me to do…”

Samuel smiled. “Nah, I think we've got it from here. Go back and have fun in the tournament. And give that girlfriend of yours a big kiss. And give her one for me.”

Harry smiled widely and snapped a jaunty salute. “Yes sir.”

“And Potter, you did good today.”

“Thanks Hunt.”

--

Hermione was sitting quietly in the stands, glumly watching the match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin, with her hand clasped around her pendant and her thumb rubbing it absentmindedly. Suddenly she leaped out of her seat and began shoving her way through the shouting crowd.

Ginny grabbed her shoulder from behind and asked, “Where are you going Hermione? They're still playing!”

“He's back, Gin. He's back!” And she flashed a bright smile before she turned and finally made her way to the stairs. For the first time all day, Ginny smiled too as she watched her friend run down the stairs.

“Where are you? Are you OK?”

“I'm fine, Mione. I just need a shower and some food. And a nap. It was a long night.”

“Well, I'll run down to the kitchens and get some food from Dobby. Then I'll meet you back in the common room in fifteen minutes. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great. How is the tournament going?”

“I'll tell you later.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Just go take your shower. Don't be long, I can't wait to see you.”

“Great. I'll see you in a bit.”

Dobby nearly broke a basket loading it with sandwiches, fruit, and pastries. Hermione had to cast a hover charm on it to get it back to the common room. Harry wasn't down yet, so she sat down in a couch by the fire to wait. He didn't take long. As soon as he stepped off the last stair, she ran over to him and smothered him in a huge hug. “I missed you Harry. I'm glad you're back.” She didn't notice him wince slightly.

“Me too, Mione. I'm back in one piece, just like ordered. Everything's fine now.”

They stood there, glad to be back together even though it had been less than a day they had been apart. A rumble from Harry's stomach broke the quite moment and both broke out into laughter. “I think Dobby sent enough food to fix that particular problem Harry,” chuckled Hermione. They sat down and Harry ate and filled Hermione in on everything that had happened since he left last night. When he was done, Hermione told him about her day—Harry was especially interested in the confrontation between her and Ron in the Great Hall and asked her if she had noticed anything out of the ordinary. She then told him about their first match with Ravenclaw that he missed that morning, and what she had seen of the second match of the day. Finally caught up on events and full of food, Harry stretched out on the sofa with his head in Hermione's lap and quickly fell asleep while she played softly with his hair. Hermione simply sat and watched the flames in the fire, just happy to be with Harry again.

Perhaps two hours later, Hermione heard the door open and in poured a number of Gryffindor students. The dull muttering she heard suddenly quieted and when she looked away from the fireplace, she saw several of the students had spotted her and Harry resting on the couch.

“Harry's back!” shouted one shocked fifth year student. Harry flinched, but didn't wake up fully.

“Quiet!” hissed Hermione. Several of the students backed up a step.

“Harry's back?!” shouted another voice from behind the couple. Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat up slowly while Hermione took a deep breath to try and calm herself as Ron walked around the couch.

“Enjoying a little nap Harry? I hope you enjoyed your little trip—it's not like we had anything important going on here. Just the first game of the Quidditch tournament is all! Oh, by the way, in case Hermione forgot to mention it, we lost our first match because our star seeker decided not to show up for the game!”

“Oh shut up Ron!” snarled Ginny. “Maybe if you and the other boys on the team had been focusing on the game instead of that little French tart playing for Ravenclaw you might have stopped a few more shots.”

“Maybe if you had caught the snitch earlier when you had the chance instead of letting their Seeker cut you off…”

“Ron, he nearly knocked her off of her broom. I don't think you can blame her for not catching the Snitch right then,” countered Hermione.

“Oh shut up Hermione, nobody was talking to you,” snapped Ron peevishly.

Harry stood up suddenly right in front of Ron. “That's enough,” he announced quietly. “There's no need for you to be barking at Ginny and Hermione when it's me you're pissed at.” Though he had to look up at Ron, it was Ron who backed up a step.

“You're right, Potter, I am pissed at you. I can't believe you just took off and left all of us high and dry. You abandoned your team and your house—you let all of us down. We were depending on you and you just took off for some reason. Why? I think you owe me an explanation.” There was complete silence in the room as most of the Gryffindors watched in slightly frightened shock.

Harry glared at him before replying in a chillingly quiet voice. “Do I? There are some things that are more important than Quidditch, Ron. And you know I wouldn't have just left without a good reason. Now if you want to continue this discussion, we can do it somewhere else.”

All eyes turned to Ron. “Fine, let's go,” he snapped, while glaring at Harry. Harry matched his stare, but Ron didn't back down. Then, to the shock of everyone present, the two best friends simply disappeared.

-->

Ch 27 Quidditch Weekend

Harry and Ron reappeared on top of the Astronomy tower.

“So, you going to thrash me in private, huh, Harry? That's considerate of you,” snarled Ron, reaching for his wand.

“Shut up for once and listen Ron. You want an explanation, I'll give you one. I tried to tell you last night, but you weren't in our room working on plays like you said. Hunt found me and Hermione last night and told us he had a lead on where some of the Death Eaters were hiding out. So Hunt and I left last night and staked out their place, hoping to catch all of them.”

Ron's jaw had dropped. “Why didn't Hermione tell me?”

“You didn't give her much of a chance.”

“Ohh, right. Did you get them?”

“Some of them. There might have been more coming, but I think someone tipped them off that I had left the castle. An owl came from Hogwarts…”

All the color drained from Ron's face. “Oh Harry! I was shouting in the Great Hall this morning that you were gone…anybody could have heard…do you suppose there is a Death Eater here at Hogwarts? I am sooo sorry for doubting you Harry. I…I don't know what to say.”

Harry sighed. “You don't need to say anything, Ron. But you need to trust me a little more. And you need to learn to control your temper. And Ron, don't mention any of this to anyone—we have no idea who the spy could be.”

“It's probably Malfoy,” muttered Ron.

“Knock it off Ron. I know you still hate his guts, but he did save Hermione and me last year.”

“And then he tried to kill her during dueling practice,” replied Ron.

“Look, I don't know what his problem has been recently, but I doubt it's Malfoy. I've been watching him closely with the map and in the halls and I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary, besides most of the students scattering when he approaches. Now, if there's nothing else, let's go back and figure out how we're going to finish off this tournament.”

“Good idea. Let's go.”

They reappeared in the Gryffindor common room, much to the surprise of their classmates. Ron broke the silence by announcing, “Quidditch team, meet me over in the corner in five minutes, we need to fine tune some strategy for Hufflepuff tomorrow. Hermione, Ginny, I'm really sorry I exploded at you earlier, I was way out of line. Come on Harry,” and he patted him on the side.

When Harry winced, Hermione noticed this time and immediately stood up with a look of concern.

“What's the matter Harry?” asked Ron softly.

“It's nothing,” insisted Harry.

“Harry, it's not nothing. What did you forget to mention?”

Harry looked at her and sighed. “One of the Death Eaters, I think it was McNair, kicked me in the ribs while I was watching the backdoor in the alley.”

Hermione looked at him crossly and muttered, “You should have told me earlier, Harry.” Then to Ron she said, “I'll take him down to Madame Pomfrey and have her check him.”

“Harry,” Ron paused when both Harry and Hermione looked at him, “just make sure you get feeling better. We'll manage without you if we need to tomorrow.”

“Don't worry, Ron. I'll be flying tomorrow.”

Hermione snorted and grabbing Harry by the elbow, leading him out of the common room.

*-*-*

Madame Pomfrey snorted in disbelief as she examined Harry's black and blue ribs. “I don't even know why I bother patching you up anymore, Mr. Potter. You just come in the next week with something else bruised or broken.”

“Oh, I just like to keep you on your toes—you know that.”

“Now drink this and then lie still, this potion will mend those two cracked ribs you've got. You're lucky neither of them punctured your lung. How you managed that, I have no idea. I didn't think you were even playing in that silly tournament today.”

“I wasn't,” sputtered Harry, choking on the foul tasting potion. “But I plan on flying tomorrow.”

“Well then I'm sure I'll see you again tomorrow, Mr. Potter.” Hearing the door opening she called out, “Go back to your common room. Mr. Potter will be just fine by tomorrow and he doesn't need any more visitors tonight.”

“But Madame Pomfrey, I promise I will trouble your patient for only a few minutes,” explained Dumbledore.

“Very well, a few minutes then. It's not like anyone listens to me anyways,” she muttered and wandered off to her office, satisfied that Harry had finished the potion and was lying still in bed.

“Congratulations, Harry, on a job well done. I hope you will be feeling better by tomorrow.”

“Thanks, how did you know I was back?”

“Well, besides the fact that all of the Gryffindor students I have seen seem to be in incredibly high spirits, I spoke briefly with Remus and Samuel an hour ago.”

“Ahhh.”

“And they were both extremely pleased at your accomplishments today.”

“Have they learned anything? Do they know who the…” Harry looked around quickly and then spoke very softly, “spy is?”

“I am afraid not. Nobody seems to know for sure. Do not worry, we will be watching very carefully. Now I will let you get some rest, no doubt you will need it for tomorrow.” Dumbledore stood and turned to leave.

Hermione couldn't resist any longer and asked, “So did your discussion with Professor McGonagall go any better after you chucked me out of your office? Sir?”

Dumbledore paused, but did not turn around to look at the two teens. “Not that it is any of your business, but no, it did not go much better after you left, Miss Granger.” Harry and Hermione could detect a note of amusement in his tone. “I imagine she will want to have a few words with you as well, Harry, about forgetting to inform her of your departure. Good night.” Then he left.

Harry stared at the closing door apprehensively.

“Don't worry, Harry, I'll protect you,” promised Hermione teasingly.

“I'm not scared of McGonagall…well, maybe just a little bit…”

“I wouldn't worry too much, Harry. I doubt she'll do anything until after the tournament is over. Who knows, if you win it, maybe she'll be more lenient…”

“Thanks, Mione. I feel loads better now.”

“But if you lose, well, then I don't know what she might…”

Harry closed his eyes and replied, “Good night, Hermione. I think you can stop trying to make me feel better now.”

--

Sunday morning during breakfast, Ron was holding a Quidditch war meeting with the other players at the Gryffindor table. Harry sat down and started chewing on a piece of toast.

“Here's how I see it,” started Ron. “If Hufflepuff can beat Ravenclaw today, then both of them will be one and two, and both will be out of the tournament. So far, nobody has beat Slytherin. Thanks to Harry's quick work last night, we're back in at one win, one loss. All we have to do is beat Slytherin this afternoon and then we'll be tied with them in wins and losses. And then we'll probably have to play some kind of tiebreaker. But if Ravenclaw manages to win today, then there will have to be some sort of three way playoff.”

“Ravenclaw is not going to win today, bro. Their goalkeeper is good, but she got hurt too bad last night, she can't play today. Their seeker is mediocre at best and their best chaser was Delecour. And ever since the other teams have been drinking those anti-glamour potions, they've been complete rubbish. Even Hufflepuff will be able to beat them. No, all we have to worry about is beating Slytherin. Any ideas how they'll decide the winner? Will there be a playoff match or what?” asked Ginny.

“I don't know. But I do know that Slytherin has been rolling up the points in their victories—they've scored a lot more points than we have. They might try to make the case that if there is a tie, then the tournament winner should be based on points, not a sudden death playoff match or something. I'll go talk to McGonagall after breakfast to see if she knows.” He kept discussing strategies with Harry, Ginny, and the others during breakfast.

When the owls dropped off the mail, Hermione gasped in astonishment as she read the front page of the paper. “Harry, the raid is in the paper already!”

“What?!” half shouted Harry before lowering his voice. He leaned over to look at the article Hermione had been skimming.

“Ministry Refuses to Confirm Rumors of Raid on Death Eaters.

Only weeks after assuming office, it seems the new Minister is already achieving dramatic results. Sources within the Ministry confirm that a successful raid on a former Death Eater headquarters resulted in the capture of nearly a dozen of the Death Eaters remaining at large. Our source indicated that the Aurors acted on information provided by an anonymous tip and resulted in a fairly routine capture.

When asked to comment, Minister Weasley refused, saying only, “I cannot either confirm or deny the rumors surrounding this alleged raid. We wish to emphasize to the public that we are doing everything possible to recapture these murderers and bring them back to justice. Thank you.”

Retired Auror Rudy Murphy had this to say, “The Minister is handling this just right. If the Ministry has captured several Death Eaters, they will not admit it right away—they won't want the other escaped convicts to know who or how they were captured. If they do have them in custody right now, they're being interrogated to discover any additional information that might help them to track down the other Death Eaters. In an investigation like this, you never hold a press conference to announce who you've captured—it might give some sort of advantage to those who remain at large. And whoever leaked this story to the papers is not doing the public a favor, in fact he might be endangering it to get his moment of fame. Now they'll be more on guard, and more cautious then before. It might be harder to catch them now. When they find out who it was who leaked it, and they always do, they ought to chuck him into Azkaban along with the rest of `em.”

Reactions from the public have been ecstatic…”

“Good. At least my name stayed out of the story,” sighed a relieved Harry as he finished reading the rest of the article. Harry was thankful that few students bothered to take a paper. He hoped nobody would make the connection between the raid and his absence on Friday. He tried to return his focus to the upcoming match, but kept wondering whether the Aurors were having any luck gaining any new information about the remaining Death Eaters.

*-*-*

Ravenclaw lost their match later that morning as Ginny had predicted. The following match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was unusually brutal, even by their standards. Every year Slytherin seemed to boast exceptionally good Beaters, and this year they had an American transfer student who was exceptionally talented. The two Slytherin Beaters had intimidated most of the Chasers they had faced in the tournament.

For the match with Gryffindor, they had altered their strategy. Both Beaters were focusing on no other player but Harry, sending every Bludger they got their bats on his way. Malfoy wasn't even bothering to look for the Snitch, but instead acted as a fourth Chaser. An hour into the match, Ron called a second timeout though Gryffindor was only down by sixty. He watched as Harry slowly limped over to their huddle.

“We can't keep this up. I can't block all of the goals with four of them shooting at the hoops consistently…”

“Well, it's not our fault! If you would…”

“Gin, I'm not blaming anyone. I'm just stating the facts. Obviously they're gambling big playing with four Chasers that Harry won't find the Snitch early. But if they build a big enough lead, it won't matter if Harry does catch it. And with their Beaters, I'm not sure Harry is going to last another half hour up there.”

“Hey! I'll hold up,” insisted Harry, rubbing a sore shoulder.

“Harry, I know you're the best Seeker that's played here in years, but it only takes one lucky shot and you're out of the game. And how many shots have you dodged today? Eighty? Ninety? A hundred? Even you can't keep dodging forever.”

“So you got a plan chief?”

“Yeah, here's what we're going to do. We're going to see just how badly they want to win today.”

As the action intensified again, the roar from the crowd and the hammering of Bludgers drowned out the sounds of the announcer. For the players, their entire focus was on chasing the Quaffle and avoiding the Bludgers. A few minutes later, Harry was again diving straight through another one of the Slytherin Chaser formations. Two of the Chasers barely missed getting decapitated by their own Beaters as Harry wove in among them, daring the Beaters to try and hit him. A minute later Malfoy took a Bludger full in the back and fell hard to the ground, and the Slytherins were forced to take an injury time out amidst the deafening cheers of the Gryffindors. Wearily, the Gryffindors huddled up again as Ron began speaking.

“Excellent Harry. If they have any brains, they'll back off a bit now, unless they want to risk taking out their own team. If they do back off, we'll start running the Hydra formations with the Flame and Fang options. But if they want to be stubborn and keep focusing on Harry, this is what we'll do. Harry, you start playing Chaser on the right wing. Beth, you'll take Gin's spot as point Chaser and run the plays—now you won't be passing with Harry, he'll be busy distracting and disrupting the Beaters and the other Chasers, so it will be basically a twin Chaser attack. Use some of the Double Dragon maneuvers we've been practicing. Gin, I want you to play spy above, watching for the Snitch. Make a few passes to make them think you're still playing Chaser, but I want you to really focus on the Snitch. Take it if you have a shot at it. I'll be watching you as well and help out if I can. Jake, your job is to cover Gin if one of the Beaters leaves Harry. Looks like ferret-boy is up again, let's go!”

Undaunted, the Slytherins renewed their attack. The whirling melee in the center of the field continued. Harry shook off a glancing blow to his left arm, grimacing tightly but managing to hang on to his broom. The Slytherin Chaser to his right took the next Bludger right to the head and dropped like a rock. The Slytherins brought in a backup Chaser, who only lasted three minutes before taking a Beater bat to the ribs. Harry had barrel rolled at the last second and the Slytherin Beater knocked another of his teammates to the turf below. Slytherin brought in their second replacement.

“Only one left, Ferret!” shouted Ron mockingly.

“Stuff it Weasel!” replied Malfoy.

Harry played in disbelief. Malfoy wanted so badly to take him out of the game that he continued to have his Beaters focus on him, even at the expense of losing more goals or even the Snitch.

Harry continued dodging among the Slytherin Chasers, often causing them to turn the Quaffle over to one of the Gryffindor Chasers who would then streak towards the Slytherin goals. Harry followed them, swooping in front of the retreating defenders, cutting through their defensive spacing and dragging the Slytherin Beaters behind him. This further disrupted the attention of the defending Slytherins, who had to watch out for not only the pressing Gryffindor Chasers but also one of the stray Bludgers sent by their own Beaters. While the Beaters continued to focus solely on Harry, he made sure he was never more than a foot or two from one of the Slytherin players.

Amidst the constant swirling, diving players in the middle of the field, Ginny occasionally flew up out of the whirling mass of players to try and catch a glimpse of the Snitch. Twenty minutes later, Gryffindor was out of replacements and only had one Chaser still flying besides Gin. Slytherin too, was out of replacement players and when both of their Beaters collided trying to hit Harry with their clubs, Malfoy took the place of the Slytherin who didn't regain consciousness. Only when Gryffindor scored twenty points in the space of thirty seconds did Malfoy seem to realize that his strategy was finally breaking down. Out of time outs, he tried to call out new instructions to their two remaining Chasers and the other Beater. Meanwhile, Ginny had spotted the Snitch flying low heading towards the Gryffindor goals. She dove towards it as Malfoy tried to find a way through the tangle of flying brooms in the center of the field. Malfoy saw her diving and leaned forward, trying to gain every bit of speed possible. He was ahead of her, closer to the Snitch, and then swore as it suddenly slowed and then reversed direction and he overshot it. He banked as quickly as he could to turn and follow it and was nearly knocked from his broom as Ginny slammed into him with bone jarring force. Her flying body check into Malfoy helped her stop and turn the opposite way as the Snitch zipped away from the pair.

Smiling as she accelerated, she shouted over her shoulder, “Nothing personal Malfoy, just looking for the Snitch!”

Malfoy shouted something rude and unintelligible as he tried to catch up to her. He chased her back towards the Slytherin end of the field, both dodging the other fliers as they pursued the hyperactive Snitch. The Snitch dived under the left goal and then looped back towards the left, climbing in front of the crowd. Ginny started following and then feeling Malfoy coming up fast behind her managed to duck to the side just in time to avoid Malfoy's elbow aimed at her head. His hip hit her shoulder and sent her flying from her broom into a crowd of Hufflepuffs in the stands who were kind enough to break her fall.

Malfoy shouted, “Payback's rough, eh Weasley?!” and laughed loudly as he watched her careen out of control into the crowd. He then looked back to find the Snitch and dove back down towards the pitch as he spotted the flash of gold. However, with all of his focus on the Snitch, he failed to notice the two angry Gryffindors bearing down on him as he headed back towards the center of the pitch. Meanwhile Madame Hooch was blowing madly on her whistle, trying to call for a foul on Malfoy, but nobody was paying her any attention.

Malfoy was still grinning as he stretched to reach for the Snitch. His eyes widened in shock as he saw Potter bearing down straight for him, his left hand extended to catch the Snitch. Malfoy leaned forward and felt the wings brush his finger tips. Despite the fact that the Snitch and Harry were flying in opposite directions at nearly full speed, Harry managed to snatch the Snitch just out of the grasp of Malfoy and wrapped his fingers around it tightly. Malfoy screamed in anger and then out of the corner of his eye glimpsed movement. He tried to duck as an enraged Ron flew past him. Instead of catching a forearm full in the face, he simply caught an elbow in the forehead. His head snapped back and then he rolled backwards off his broom, out cold before his body bounced hard on the ground. Ron merely grunted, “Yeah, payback's rough, eh Ferret?” and then scanned the Hufflepuff crowd for signs of his sister.

The crowd was roaring and Madame Hooch swooped in, her whistle still blasting. “Malfoy, out! Weasley out! Potter, amazing catch! Gryffindor wins!”

Meanwhile, Gryffindor students were swarming the field. Both Harry and Ron landed on the ground, and Harry ran over quickly to prevent Ron from getting any closer to Malfoy.

“Nobody hits my sister and gets away with it!” he yelled as he looked angrily for the fallen Slytherin, his huge fists clenched tightly.

“Easy, Ron. Cool off! Look, here she comes. She looks fine.” Both looked up to see Ginny flying over to see them with the rest of the team. Bedlam reigned on the field while Madame Pomfrey and several of the Slytherins helped Malfoy to his feet as the Gryffindor students began celebrating.

Dumbledore finally restored order with a loud announcement. “Quiet, please, quiet. As many of you are aware, we currently have a tie in the tournament. Rather than count the number of team members still able to stand upright, the tie will be decided by a special match. One player from each team will be selected to catch the Snitch. There will be two Bludgers as well, one to chase each of the Seekers. Each of the Seekers will be provided with a school broom of equal speed and ability, no personal brooms will be allowed. This match will be decided solely on the talent of the individual Seeker. Whoever catches the Snitch first will win the match and the tournament. This match will begin in one hour.”

Madame Pomfrey then helped Malfoy walk to the tent that had been set up during the brutal match to treat all of the injured Gryffindor and Slytherin players who had started falling from the sky. She motioned for Ginny, Ron, and Harry to go to the tent as well. A few moments later, the three looked up as Hermione burst in with huge red streaks on her cheeks.

Expecting a sermon, Harry was pleased when she simply asked if they were going to be OK. Harry grinned and nodded. They quit talking when Madame Pomfrey barged in, muttering about foolish old headmasters and barbaric gladiatorial contests being inappropriate for schoolchildren. When Ron asked how Malfoy was doing, she replied irritably, “Well, his head is still attached to his body, despite your best efforts to separate the two, if that is what you mean.”

“Did you see what he did to my sister?”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley—I am not blind. But that's why I dislike these contests, someone is always trying to get even with someone else for something that happened in one of them.”

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, but said nothing further. After she left, Harry stood up and began stretching out his sore and aching muscles when McGonagall arrived.

“Mr. Weasley, you will be serving a detention with me next week for the flagrant foul you committed on Mr. Malfoy during the match and…”

“Did you see what he did to my sister?”

“Of course!” she snapped. “But that is no excuse to lose your temper and stoop to his level. That said, I wish to congratulate you on a hard won victory. And by hard won, I mean that some of the other players will probably be out for another day or two. That was certainly one of the more, err…physical matches Hogwarts has seen in several years. And how are you feeling Miss Weasley?”

“I'll be just fine after Harry's finished off Malfoy in the next match, I've spent an hour soaking in a warm tub, and I'm back in the Gryffindor common room enjoying the victory celebration tonight,” she replied with a grin.

“That was a quite a hit you took from Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley,” observed McGonagall.

“I grew up with six brothers and they play a lot rougher. Frankly, Malfoy hits about as hard as a flobberworm.”

Quickly concealing her grin, McGonagall turned to leave.

“Hey! I'm doing fine, too, thanks for asking,” added Harry.

“Of course you are Mr. Potter. The only way you wouldn't be out flying again in forty minutes was if you were flat on your back out cold. Am I correct?”

Harry just grinned.

“Good. Now go out and win this tournament Potter.” She then turned and left to visit the other injured students.

--

In the center of the pitch, mounted on one of the school's Cloudsweep Fives, Malfoy glared at Harry with undisguised hatred in his eyes. Harry glared back, and then cracked a smile when he saw the huge goose egg on Malfoy's forehead.

“You're going down this time Potter. It's just you and me today. Everybody is going to see what a fake you are today, and how I'm the best seeker in the school.”

“That's funny, Malfoy—you've never beaten me before. At anything.”

“Your parents, especially your dad, thought they were funny too. You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter.”

Harry's green eyes smoldered and his face became a stony mask.

Malfoy noticed and laughed. “Did I hit a sore spot Potter?” he mocked.

Harry refused to reply and looked at Madame Hooch instead who was about to release the Snitch. She opened her hands and it soared skyward. Ten seconds later she blew her whistle and both Malfoy and Potter kicked off with their brooms, Malfoy staying slightly below Potter, watching his every move. Potter drifted slowly with the breeze, emptying his mind of everything—the announcer, the crowd beneath him, Malfoy and his barbed taunts—and simply let his eyes roam as they searched for a glint of gold. Five minutes passed and then ten. After fifteen, Malfoy began making various snide remarks which Harry completely ignored.

Suddenly he saw a metallic flash and less than a hearbeat later Harry was plummeting towards the ground, with Malfoy nearly even with him. The Snitch broke right and Harry followed, taking a more looping turn than he normally would, making slight allowances for the inferior broom he was riding. It was not nearly as fast or as agile as his own—therefore he had to compensate and fly just slightly less aggressively lest he push the broom beyond its limits. He barrel rolled suddenly, to avoid one of the Bludgers that came swooping at him—apparently they only flew at him once he was actively pursuing the Snitch. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Malfoy roll into an inverted loop perfectly, avoiding the other Bludger easily. Harry hid his astonishment—he hadn't thought Malfoy was that good. They hadn't flown against each other since the attack last spring, and Malfoy really hadn't been flying as a Seeker during the earlier match. Malfoy must have been practicing over the summer break.

Harry continued to track the flight of the elusive Snitch, with Malfoy close by on his left flank. They soared over the eastern stands, swerved back under one set of goals, and then looped back through the highest hoop before diving back steeply towards the pitch. Harry quickly realized he would have to gamble and try to anticipate where the Snitch might dart next, since there was no way he was going to be able to catch it on sheer speed alone on one of the school brooms. He ducked under one of the Bludgers and then suddenly he zoomed up and to the left while Malfoy, after throwing him a suspicious look, continued to follow the Snitch. When the Snitch did change direction, it did zoom upwards. But instead of going left it broke hard right. Harry yanked his broom up and to the left as hard as he could, going inverted for a moment before he rolled over right side up again. He temporarily lost sight of the Snitch, but aimed slightly ahead of where Malfoy was headed. Luckily, the Snitch darted his way and then moved away from both pursuing players. He twisted to avoid the oncoming Bludger and then braced for the impact he anticipated with Malfoy. Their shoulders and hips slammed into each other as they adjusted their angles of pursuit to the new path taken by the Snitch.

It dove, then began rising slowly in front of them. Still bumping each other, both leaned their brooms into shallow dives to intercept the fluttering Snitch. Malfoy's elbow slammed into Harry's ribs once, twice, and then a third time. Harry swung one of his legs forward and then kicked it back sharply against one of Malfoy's shins, trying to gain a little leverage or a slight lead. As Harry surged slightly ahead, Malfoy reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder. Harry threw his elbow straight back, extended his arm, and then rolled it up and over the top of Malfoy's left arm, breaking the grip and then Harry used it to push off a little more. They were closing in on the Snitch now, only a foot or so away, with Harry about six inches closer. The Snitch suddenly darted to the right slightly and Harry lunged forward before it got any closer to Malfoy. He almost reached it when he felt a fist slam into his ribs, making him wince and draw back reflexively.

Then the Snitch dropped down a bit. Harry dove too, and reached forward again. This time his fingers grabbed the ball and with an extra stretch, he was able to pull it safely into his grasp. He felt Malfoy's fingers clawing at his wrist, drawing blood and then he felt a sharp elbow catch him right below the eye. He snapped his head back and Malfoy's fist barely missed his cheek. His eye watering and fed up with Malfoy's cheap shots, he lifted his elbow and snapped it down viciously as he rolled slightly to the right. There was a sharp crack as he snapped off the front two feet of Malfoy's broom. Malfoy's right hand held on to the front part of the broken shaft, but the remaining part began spinning away as Malfoy's continued forward and slightly down. Harry pulled up and to the left as Malfoy slammed into one of the heavy canvas flags hanging from the towers of the stadium. With a sickening crunch that immediately halted his forward momentum, Malfoy's body fell limply to the ground. Tired, and with his ribs and cheek aching, Harry descended to the ground. The cheers that had broken out when the announcer had called the match for Gryffindor had largely subsided as the crowd watched the brutal punches exchanged between the two longtime rivals. There was now an anxious silence enveloping the crowd as they watched for signs of life from Malfoy who once again lay still on the ground. Madame Pomfrey hurried over to check him, and stepped back as Malfoy pushed her away and slowly rose shakily from the ground. The crowd burst out in cheers as Madame Hooch made the official announcement declaring Gryffindor the victors. Harry stood in the center of the stadium for a moment and watched Malfoy limp off the field before getting swamped by his teammates and fellow students.

*-*-*

Several hours later, the Gryffindors were still carrying on in the common room, led by Ron and Ginny. Hermione found Harry sitting in a chair by the wall, a happy look plastered on his face.

“What's the matter, Harry? You don't seem nearly as happy as you look,” she asked as she sat on the arm of the chair.

“I still can't believe I did that to Malfoy.”

“Well, he did have it coming.”

“No doubt. But I was so mad, and I just reacted instead of thinking about it first.” He suddenly turned and looked at her desperately. “Mione, have I been acting angrier or more violent?”

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and she noticed the serious look on Harry's face and replied. “No. If anything, you are remarkably restrained, considering everything you've been through and the amount of power you possess.”

“You don't think that maybe all of this Auror training is making me dangerous…I mean in the field, with Hunt, or against those Death Eaters, I act on instinct…I react…I mean, I think too, but I think about surviving and winning and tactics—not necessarily the morality of the situation. I mean I do, but…do you know what I mean? Tackling Death Eaters is different than playing Quidditch, it's even different from the duels Snape has us fight, no matter how realistic he tries to make them. What if I can't turn that off when I come back to school? I didn't want to hurt Malfoy, well, OK, part of me did, but I could have just as easily killed him. I had my wand, there was half a dozen spells I could have used, I could have jabbed his eye, or crushed his larynx, or”

“And you snapped his broom, Harry. And it wasn't that bad of a fall, you weren't that far off the ground. He hit pretty hard, but he walked away on his own. You didn't use a spell or try to kill him, Harry. You reined in your instincts.”

“I guess, but it kind of spooks me that I came that close. What if I snap and get angry during one of the duels—I could really hurt someone. I could kill someone.”

“And the fact that you think about it and worry about it is proof of the fact that you won't let it happen. You're right, Harry, it is tough. But if anyone can do it, it's you Harry.”

“Thanks, Mione. That means a lot.”

“No problem. If you're still feeling guilty, I could always give you a detention.”

Harry laughed. “I'm not feeling that guilty. Besides, McGonagall already gave me a week's detention with Ron.” It was Hermione's turn to laugh.

He smiled for a moment before a look of concern returned. “But there is something very strange about Malfoy. He said something before the match started, something his father said to me a long time ago. And he said it exactly like his father had said it.”

“But Harry, we know Malfoy is not using a Polyjuice potion. What do you think is…”

“I don't know, but there's something very wrong with Malfoy. I just can't figure out what it is. Ron thinks he might be the Death Eater spy..”

“Well of course he does.”

“I don't know. And I hate not knowing…”

“Don't worry Harry. We'll find the spy.”

Meanwhile, the other students continued celebrating their victory.

*-*-*

Next chapter: The Halloween Ball

-->

Ch 28 The Halloween Ball

The grey-haired wizard with the badly frayed cloak sat by himself at a table with his back to the wall. He dropped a few coins on the table as the short, limping witch dropped off a tall mug emitting sparks and green smoke with a grunt. She snatched up the money and walked back towards the bar in the dingy, smoke-filled tavern. His hand hovered over the vile concoction for a moment and then his eyes returned to scanning the disreputable crowd. Though his eyes kept darting around, they returned time and again to a pair of wizards on the far side of the room, barely visible through the haze that hung thick in the air.

His eyes shifted quickly as the front door opened and in stepped a witch with a dark blue robe, her hood covering most of her features in shadow. The witch looked around and then moved slowly towards him. “Is this seat taken?”

“Yeah,” grunted the wizard, dismissing her with disdain.

“Where are your manners, Harry Potter?” she whispered as she pulled out the chair and sat down.

Harry's eyes snapped back to the witch, staring at her intently. While his hands rested lightly on the table, there was no sign of anxiety or surprise on his face. “Excuse me, but do I look like a half-blind boy with a lightning bolt on his forehead? I wouldn't have any more drinks if I were you, witch.” Then he turned away from her again and ignored her.

“Excellently played, Potter. You're very good. But I really don't have time for this game. However, I do have something for you, as long as you promise not to stun me again.”

Harry snapped his attention back to the witch at his table and looked at her closely. “It couldn't be!” his mind screamed. “He wouldn't dare come back to the wizarding world!” Harry vision shifted slightly and his fear was confirmed when he saw the brightly glowing head. As if she could read his thoughts, the witch smiled.

“Give me one reason I shouldn't stun you right now,” he growled.

“I've already proven that your wizard prison can't hold me. I won't go back there again.”

“Then why shouldn't I kill you right now before you assassinate somebody else?” hissed Harry as his body slowly tensed for action.

“Because you're not a cold-blooded killer like I am. You had your chance. But I didn't come here to talk about the past, I have something you might be interested in seeing.”

“What are you talking about? And why on earth should I trust you? You just admitted that you're nothing but a cold-blooded killer.”

“True, but that has nothing to do with my general trustworthiness. But in light of our previous encounter, let me try to explain why I want to help you now.”

Harry relaxed only slightly as he saw the witch draw a deep breath and look away before continuing. “Those potions they gave me in your prison didn't completely knock me out, they kept me awake but paralyzed and unable to do anything. And they forced me to relive the experiences of my past victims. Most of them deserved death, but there were some, too many, who were innocent victims—they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time—like this young woman you see before you. I saw things from perspectives I never could have imagined…” The Yonnua's eyes returned to Harry's face. “I can never fully undo what I have done, but I…I want to try and make things better.”

“How? How are you going to make things better? You can't bring those you've murdered back to life.”

“No, but I can track down those who would harm others. Like myself. Like the Death Eaters. I can save the lives of future victims…”

“By killing them?” hissed Harry. “You don't have the right to act as judge and…”

“I'm a hunter, it's what I do best. Besides, we both know you can't stop me unless you kill me. And they won't keep me in Azkaban alive, I'll either escape again or they'll have to kill me. So make your choice, kill me now or sentence me to death in Azkaban. You be the judge.” The witch then sat in her chair and looked at Harry, waiting for him to decide.

Harry's thoughts raced through his head. “What should I do? I can't just simply let him loose, can I? What if he killed another innocent victim? And yet Azkaban will never hold him—and he might kill somebody in his next escape. And I know what it would be like to be sentenced to Azkaban for the rest of your life and be drugged while there. And isn't he proposing to do what I do as an Auror? Don't I hunt down evil and destroy it? But can I trust him?” And then another thought struck him. “Did Dumbledore have a similar conversation with Snape years ago?” Harry looked up at the motionless witch and stared deep into her eyes before speaking. “If you want to make amends, why do it in the wizarding world? This form you have taken, she was not a witch. To the best of my knowledge, you have killed only two wizards. Most of your victims were probably Muggles. Why do you remain in the wizarding world where it is not as easy to pass yourself as a wizard? Wouldn't it be easier and safer to hunt down evil Muggles?”

The witch leaned forward and looked intently at Harry. “It would be easier in the Muggle world. But I have a terrible debt to repay, one that can never be fully satisfied. And some of the greatest dangers to the Muggle world lie in the wizarding world. If I can help eliminate some of those dangers, perhaps the burden I carry will grow lighter. If not, the loss of my life is of no great consequence.”

Harry just sat and watched her closely, thinking.

“If it made you feel any better, I would give you a wizard's oath not to kill anybody except in self-defense.”

“Except that you're not really a wizard. Or a witch in this case.”

“Understand this, Potter, for me to be effective, I need information. And I cannot extract information from a corpse.”

“But I thought…”

“The mind drain is exhausting, but not necessary lethal. But we Yonnua have never had a reason to allow a victim to survive before. Once I have the information I need from those I stalk, I will turn them over to your justice system, if that makes you feel better.”

“It would,” sighed Harry as he sat back, having made his decision. “But why did you want to see me? Surely it wasn't just to tell me all this. And how did you find me here in Knockturn Alley?”

The witch chuckled. “Normally a good spy doesn't reveal their secrets, but I'll make an exception this once. I overheard you and your mentor talking during one of your drills in the Forbidden Forest. As for why I wanted to see you, here, have a look at these records later.” Harry felt a small, thick book brush his knee. Watching the room, he quickly slipped a hand under the table and grabbed it, placing it quickly into an inner pocket of his cloak.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Fudge was a fool, but an occasionally clever fool—the worst kind. He chose the wrong friends, but he kept a very careful eye on where the money from these friends went. I imagine the new Minister would like to have a look at some of those records—it might help him weed out a number of hidden enemies from both the Ministry and the Wizengamot.”

Harry's eyes widened. “Where did you get this?”

“From where Fudge himself had kept it in the hidden shelf in his library, of course. Remember Potter, information is one of the most powerful weapons of all. You know,” she continued, pointing at the foaming, sparking mug, “it's tough to keep your wits about you drinking that stuff. Besides, that one looks like it would burn a hole right through your stomach.”

Harry smiled and replied, “That's why I changed it to pumpkin juice.”

The witch cracked another smile and finished. “Now I must be going.” The witch stood to leave, then leaned back down and whispered, “Goodbye, Potter. And thank you for giving me a second chance.” Then she turned and left.

Harry watched her leave, then glanced to the table he had been watching earlier. He knew they were already gone, he could no longer hear them conversing in his magical earpiece. He knew Hunt would be upset with him—he was supposed to be listening and learning how to find information from hostile sources. But if the information the Yonnua had given him was any good, he figured Hunt might overlook it this time. He waited another twenty minutes before leaving to rendezvous with Hunt, replaying the entire conversation with the Yonnua in his head and praying that he had made the right decision.

--

Later that evening, Harry sat across from Dumbledore in his office and finished his story. “And so I just let her walk out.” He paused and then added. “Here's the book she left me. Samuel and I already checked it for trap spells—its clean.” Harry got up and set the book lightly on Dumbledore's desk, then sat back down, waiting for Dumbledore to speak.

Dumbledore watched Harry thoughtfully over his steepled fingers. “I wish I could tell you that this was the correct decision and that all will turn out well as a result. However, I do not have Professor Trelawney's gift of predicting the future. Nevertheless, from what you have told me, this Yonnua has undergone a remarkable transformation. Showing mercy and sparing an enemy's life is always a noble act, and sometimes even brings about positive results we never imagined. Such has proven to be the case with Professor Snape. Hopefully it will turn out to be the case with this Yonnua. Only time will tell.”

“But what if she kills another innocent person when I could have prevented it? Their blood will be on my head.”

“Harry, you cannot control the actions of all those around you, nor accept responsibility for all the consequences of their behavior. Life is so much more complex than that. Consider this: are you sure you could have captured her before she harmed or killed someone in the pub? Or if you did capture her, would you then be responsible if she escaped again and killed some guards in the process this time? You cannot burden yourself with that much responsibility, Harry. You did the best you could in a difficult situation—I would have followed the same course had I been there instead of you.”

“That helps, Professor. Thanks.”

“Have you looked at this book, Harry?”

“Briefly—I recognized a few names. Hunt and I were more worried about making sure it wouldn't blow up in our faces or portkey us somewhere nasty.”

“Yes, yes, I can imagine,” chuckled Dumbledore. “Ahh, this is very interesting,” he continued as he flipped through a few pages. “Arthur will be very interested in looking at this as well, I imagine. Yes, this book should keep both Arthur and Madame Bones very busy for the next several months weeding out the bribed and the traitorous within the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot, if these accounts are true and can be verified. Do you mind if I pass this along?”

“That's why I brought it—I figured you and Arthur would get more use out of it than I would.” Harry rose to leave. “Thanks again, Professor.”

“I am always here for you, Harry, anytime you need to talk.”

--

Harry found Hermione in the library looking at old newspapers and recounted the day's events. To his surprise, she was as open minded as Dumbledore about the Yonnua' s apparent change of heart, despite its vicious attack on her.

“Of course its acts were evil, but I'm not sure it was. From what Hunt and you have told me, it doesn't sound like the Yonnua really thought much about what they did. It sounds like most of them live in a very simple but brutal world of Darwinian struggle where only the most powerful and ruthless survive. Now I'm not trying to justify what they did, but if they had no real conception of morals, of the difference between right and wrong, then we can't hold them to the same standards we hold.”

“Hermione, you can't worry about whether something attacking you is aware of the finer distinctions between right and wrong—not when lives are on the line. If you have a vampire trying to kill you, you have to destroy it if you can.”

“I'm not saying you should Harry. But you can't really compare the Yonnua and vampires. They're different. Vampires at least have some concept of what is right and wrong having been human once. From what you've said, I'm not sure the Yonnua have any idea of right and wrong. Both have free will to make their own choices, though both have difficulty making good choices—vampires because of their need for blood and the Yonnua because of their apparent lack of knowledge about morality and ethics. There are spells that can help reduce a vampire's attraction to human blood and therefore gain better control over their actions, but some refuse to use them—like werewolves who skip their potions. What I'm saying is that if she really has changed, if she really has gained some sort of understanding about right and wrong, then this is a huge step. If she has truly changed, then there might be hope for the other Yonnua as well.”

“You're not going to organize a support group or something for the Yonnua, are you?” joked Harry lightly.

Hermione chuckled good naturedly. “Of course not, that's completely different from the issue of house elves' rights. But think about it, she might be able to provide a lot of help tracking down evil wizards.”

“We'll see I guess. If she can help and if she has really changed.” Then he looked at the stacks of newspapers in front of Hermione. “Why are you looking at these newspapers? There's nothing about Atlantis in them is there?”

“No, but remember when you told me about Artemis Dumbledore?”

“Yeah, did you find something?”

“Read this,” she suggested, and pushed one of the papers over to him to read.

“In a tragic accident last week still under investigation by Aurors, Artemis Dumbledore died when her cottage burnt down. The actual cause of death has not yet been determined, and foul play is suspected because of the mysterious nature of the fire, and because her husband, Albus Dumbledore, has made many enemies in his efforts to rally wizards to defeat the Dark Wizard Grindelwald. Private services will be held later this week. She is survived by her husband of two years, Albus Dumbledore, her mother, Olivia McGonagall, and her younger sister Minerva McGonagall.”

Harry looked up at Hermione in complete shock. “Dumbledore was married? To McGonagall's older sister? Whoa…Dumbledore married McGonagall's older sister…wow…”

“Harry, you're repeating yourself.”

“Yeah, but wow. Dumbledore married. And she died before he defeated Grindelwald.” He looked up sharply at Hermione. “No wonder he wanted to make sure that I wanted to be an Auror before he gave me the sword. He lost his wife while he was fighting against Grindelwald.”

Harry and Hermione sat quietly, holding hands and thinking somberly about the sad events of nearly half a century before. He glanced at the heart shaped pendant hanging around her neck and spoke softly. “I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Mione. I think I would completely lose it. I don't think I could…”

“Shhh, Harry. Nothing is going to happen to either of us,” whispered Hermione in a soothing tone.

“Predicting the future now, are we? I thought you always claimed that Divination was complete rubbish,” teased Harry.

Hermione chuckled lightly. “Look, Harry, we've had more than our share of dangers in our years together here at Hogwarts. And no doubt there will be more for us in the future. But I know that no matter what happens to either of us, nothing will ever come between us. You will always be there for me, and I will always be there for you, no matter what. And when the time comes for one of us to embark on the next great adventure, as Dumbledore describes it, that doesn't mean that's the end of us. You should know better than anyone else that love is stronger than death,” she grasped his hands and squeezed them tightly. “Harry, my love for you will last throughout this life and into the next, just like your parents' love for each other and for you.”

Harry simply nodded, unable to force any words out of his mouth past the lump in his throat that emerged as he thought about his parents and Sirius. It was easy for Hermione to say that, she had spent most of her life surrounded by loving family and friends. Harry had only known people who loved him for several years and he simply couldn't bear the thought of losing any more of them than he already had. To try and change the mood, Harry asked how her research on Atlantis was going.

Hermione replied, slightly confused. “What? Oh. I'm afraid there's not much more I can do here. I've read everything in our library, and just about everything Madame Pince has been able to borrow from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. And I'm still not much closer to finding any answers than we were when we began.”

Harry's eyes widened in wonder. “Are you sure this is such a good idea to be continuing? I mean Corlyn seemed a bit shady to begin with, and now we know that one of the people he sent to watch over us is a vampire. One who's already killed several people.”

“And who also saved my life. I know, Harry. But I've given this a lot of thought. Even if Corlyn remains suspicious, it doesn't mean that the quest itself is a bad idea. We could still prevent serious problems by finding these artifacts from Atlantis before anyone else.”

“So what's the next step? Where do we go from here?”

“Well, the Quidditch team is set to play its first match at Beauxbaton's next month, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't see…”

“Well, I've read most of the material they can send here. But they might have some more materials that they can't send, that they keep in a special archive. And the Wizarding University is nearby—I'm sure they would have some important sources I could look at. I figure we can get permission from Dumbledore to go a few days early or stay an extra few days after the Quidditch match that weekend to do some research.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. Get a few days out of school in the French countryside, maybe go and…”

“Harry. If we go, we will be in the library doing research.”

“Oh! Of course, Mione. I wouldn't think of planning anything fun,” mocked Harry and the he laughed as Hermione reached over and tried to punch him, which earned them both stern looks from Madame Pince, even though they were the only ones in the library.

“Come on, let's head back. It's been a long day and I'm feeling pretty tired. And Ron's scheduled an early practice in the morning,” he said, pulling her up.

“Poor Harry,” teased Hermione as she gathered up her books.

--

Harry stood on the edge of the Quidditch pitch and looked at the stadium in amazement. He could have sworn that half of the school was there, sitting in the stands.

“Alright, stop gawking! Let's get in the air. I don't have much time to whip you lot into shape for our first match against Beauxbatons!” roared Ron, stepping onto the field. “And some of you need a lot of work!” he added, glaring at Malfoy and the two Slytherin beaters.

Ron had been allowed considerable input, but several Slytherin members had been added over his specific objections, as he reminded the Gryffindor students every day in the Common Room. The Hogwart's team consisted of Ron as captain and Keeper, the Ravenclaw backup Keeper, Ginny, Gabrielle, and a boy from Hufflepuff as Chasers, with Amelia Smythe from Gryffindor as backup Chaser, the two Slytherin Beaters and a backup Beater from Hufflepuff, and Harry as the Seeker, with Malfoy as his backup.

Three hours later, Harry was tired, sore, and chilled to the bone, along with most of the team. He ignored Malfoy's loud complaints about the practice, and waited with Ron and Ginny for Hermione to catch up.

Her cheeks pink with cold but her eyes glittering merrily, Hermione observed, “You know, if you guys spend half as much energy flying against the other teams as you do fighting amongst yourselves, you should win this tournament pretty easily.”

“As always, thank you for your profound insights, Hermione,” bristled Ron.

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Hermione, but he really didn't have the energy to get involved.

“So, Hermione,” interjected Ginny smoothly, “do you have an outfit picked out yet for the Halloween Masquerade Ball?”

“Well, I have a few ideas, but since I haven't been officially asked out yet by anyone, I don't even know if I am going to go. What about you?”

“Oh, yes. My date officially asked me last week and we're going to go as…”

Ron had stopped in shock, as had Harry. They watched in silence as the two girls walk off to the castle together, still chatting. Then they turned to each other and spoke simultaneously.

“Who thinks they're taking my little sister to the dance?!?”

“What does she mean I haven't officially asked her?!?”

Again at the same time, they asked each other a new question.

“Do you know who's taking my sister?”

“Do you know what she means by officially asking her?”

Ron and Harry looked at each other and started laughing. “You first,” chuckled Harry.

“Do you know who's taking my sister to the dance?”

“Sorry, mate, not a clue. Neville maybe?

“Neville?! But he already took her to a dance. And he only asked her because Hermione turned him down. Why would he want to ask her again?”

“Hey, I don't know for sure. That was just a guess. But I would probably keep your thoughts about it to yourself, at least around Ginny. You say stuff like that to her face and she might hex you into next week, Ron. Anyways, what's this stuff about officially asking people supposed to mean?”

“Well, have you actually said to Hermione—Would you like to go to the Halloween Masquerade Ball with me?”

“Well, no. I just thought that since we're already a couple that we'd automatically…”

“Well, don't assume anything, Harry. From what I can tell, girls still like to be asked to these sorts of things.”

Harry snorted. “So you're an expert now, eh? Tell me, who have you officially asked to the ball?”

“Nobody. I'm going stag. That way I'm not tied down to just one girl and I keep all of my options open.”

“So most of the girls are still upset about you snogging Padma, Lavender, and Jennile the same night? Nobody wants to go with you, huh?” joked Harry.

Ron glared at Harry for a moment before replying. “Well, some are still a little upset about that. But in case you didn't notice, there were more than a few girls watching our practice today who would go to the dance with me in a heartbeat if I asked them. But the way I see it, why reward one girl's wishes, and crush the dreams of all the rest? This way, there's plenty of me to go around.”

“Yeah, just keep telling yourself that Ron.”

“I'm really not in the mood for a lecture, Harry,” retorted Ron, his temper rising.

“And I really can't understand how you can keep justifying to yourself that it's perfectly OK to treat girls this way.” As Ron started to respond, Harry raised his hands. “But I'm done wasting my breath on it.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

They continued in silence for a minute and then Ron asked Harry, “So, how do you think our Chasers are doing?”

“They're doing well—they're really fast, but I think it will take a few more practices for them to get used to flying together. And I hate to say this, but I seriously think you ought to consider giving Malfoy some time at Chaser.”

“Are you out of your mind?! They made me take that worthless…”

“Yes, everyone in Gryffindor is well aware of that fact Ron. But he is the best flier on the team after me, you, and Gin. He doesn't do us any good sitting on the bench.”

“Well, I feel pretty good watching him sit and squirm on the bench, muttering and complaining.”

“What I meant is that he doesn't help us win by sitting on the bench.”

“Well, I'm the captain and…”

”And you asked me for my opinion. And I gave it. Do what you want, I need to talk to Hermione.”

As Harry walked off, Ron shouted after him. “Try taking her some flowers, Harry.”

--

As Harry sat in the Common Room with Neville, Seamus, and several of the other Gryffindors, waiting for their dates to come down, he kept fidgeting with the collar of the costume Hermione had picked out. Actually, it wasn't a costume at all, it was a replica of an Auror's dress uniform, complete with ceremonial dress cloak. Hermione had insisted he would look dashing in it, he simply felt overdressed. And the mask he had to wear with it rubbed his nose and looked rather silly he thought. But when he'd seen the other boys with their masks, he felt better—they didn't seem any happier with their costumes either. They were in the midst of a discussion arguing over who had the worst costume when they heard footsteps on the stairs. When Harry looked up, his heart skipped a beat. He saw several beautiful girls in a variety of costumes, including a princess with bright red hair, but the one that truly stood out to him was the chestnut-haired girl dressed as a fairy with gossamer wings in a flowing blue dress. At his look, she stopped on one of the landings and gave a little curtsy.

“Cat got your tongue, Harry?” asked a playful voice.

“Wow, Hermione. You look amazing tonight. I can't describe how beautiful you look tonight. I…wow!”

“Thank you, Harry. I'm glad you finally decided to ask me.”

“I'm glad you accepted an invitation from a dim-witted wizard like myself.”

She smiled and finished descending the stairs, hooked her arm through his, and let him lead them to the Great Hall behind the other couples. When they stepped through the double doors to the Great Hall, Harry and the others looked around the Hall in amazement. The Hall had been expanded and was filled with beautiful paintings, large marble statues, and enormous gilded mirrors everywhere. There was a bubbling fountain set in the center of the room, with small brooks flowing from it through beautiful gardens along pebbled paths. There were various elevated patios and clear patches of grass on which to visit or dance with nearby benches and tables loaded with food. At the far edge of the Hall was a band playing music while students chatted in small groups or danced in pairs.

Harry and Hermione visited for a while with Neville and Ginny, and then wandered off by themselves to look at the statues and paintings. After visiting with several other couples they bumped into around the magically transformed room, they found a small table and Harry brought over several glasses of punch. They laughed and chatted and were later joined by Neville and Ginny again. They tried to guess the identities of their disguised classmates scattered throughout the Hall before Harry leaned over and asked Hermione to dance.

“I thought you'd never ask,” she laughed, half teasingly as he took her by the hand and led her from the table. They found a smoothly tiled patio and moved closer to each other. After Harry led her through a series of intricate spins and dips flawlessly, Hermione gasped in surprise.

“Harry, where did you learn to dance so well? I could have sworn you had two left feet three years ago at the Yule Ball.”

“You were watching, huh? I thought you had a date for that one,” teased Harry.

“He couldn't pronounce my name, Harry. So who taught you to dance?”

“Um, Ginny,” coughed Harry in a low voice.

“Who?”

“Uhh, Ginny. She's been teaching me a few dance steps over the past couple of weeks.”

“So you've been sneaking off with Weasley behind my back, have you? I see it wasn't Gabrielle I had to worry about all along—it was that scheming little redhead!”

“No, Mione! It wasn't anything like that. You know that…”

“I know, Harry,” laughed Hermione. “But you should have seen your face just then…” Hermione then burst into giggles and leaned her head against Harry's chest, trying to muffle her laughter.

“You know, you really shouldn't play mind games with me like that, Mione. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't tease you like that.” She then gave him a quick peck on the cheek and laid her head on his shoulder. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist as the band started a new song. Their bodies swayed softly as one to the music as the words of the song floated through the hall.

Would you dance if I asked you to dance?

Would you run and never look back?

Would you cry if you saw me cryin'?

And would you save my soul tonight?

Harry could feel Hermione's soft breath on his neck as he hugged her closer.

Would you tremble if I touched your lips?

Would you laugh?

Oh please tell me this.

Hermione pulled back slightly and lifted her jaw slightly so that she could kiss him very tenderly on the lips.

Now would you die for the one you loved?

Hold me in your arms tonight.

Harry leaned his forehead against Hermione's as tears welled from his eyes, and then fell to mix with the tears falling down Hermione's cheeks.

I can be your hero, baby

I can kiss away the pain

I will stand by you forever

You can take my breath away

Hermione tilted her chin up again and looked deep into Harry's emerald eyes as both her hands brushed the sides of his cheeks softly and then gently pulled his face closer to her lips.

Would you swear that you'll always be mine?

Or would you lie?

Would you run and hide?

Am I in too deep?

Have I lost my mind?

I don't care, you're here tonight.

Harry slid one hand up her back where it got tangled in her hair at the base of her neck as he returned her kiss.

I can be your hero, baby

I can kiss away the pain

I will stand by you forever

You can take my breath away

As the world around them faded, they were snapped back to reality by a loud “Hem, hem!” Startled, they jumped apart and looked around. About ten feet away on a patch of closely trimmed grass, with her arms wrapped around Neville's waist, stood Ginny with a huge grin. Harry's deadly glare and Hermione's fierce scowl only widened her grin. “Wouldn't want Snape docking points from Gryffindor because of you two,” she teased. Neville whispered something in her ear and she turned back towards him and resumed dancing. Harry and Hermione decided to ignore her and moved back together. He laid his cheek next to Hermione's as she rested her face in the crook of his neck and once again they swayed softly to the music.

Oh, I just want to hold you

I just want to hold you, oh yeah

Am I in too deep?

Have I lost my mind?

Well, I don't care, you're here tonight.

I can kiss away the pain

I will stand by you forever…

The last two verses held special meaning to the young couple dancing softly in each others arms and echoed the feelings they felt for each other. As the music slowly died away, Harry and Hermione slowly, reluctantly, broke apart and they headed back to their table for a cool drink. A few minutes later, they were joined by Ginny and Neville.

With a wide grin, Harry looked at the two and asked, “So, anything you two would like to tell us? Gin? Neville?”

Ginny laughed while Neville's cheeks turned slightly pink, but he didn't look away. Instead, he just smiled.

Harry chuckled. “I assume neither Ron or the twins knows anything about this…” At Ginny's sharp look, he continued, “Don't worry, I'm not going to tell them. Speaking of Ron, has anyone seen him? He was going to come by himself tonight.”

With a derisive snort and a toss of her head, Ginny indicated a group of nine or ten boys across the Hall circled around a girl with long, silvery hair. Harry looked over and muttered, “Don't tell me…”

“Oh yeah. Ron, along with those other gits have been fawning over the French veela for the last hour or so. They're all making fools of themselves trying to impress her. It's pretty disgusting actually. But enough about Ron. Come on Neville, I want to go say hello to a few other friends—that is, if we can safely leave the two of you alone together,” she teased.

“I wouldn't worry about us, Gin,” replied Hermione. “But I will be keeping an eye out for the two of you when I do my rounds from now on,” she threatened with a laugh. Again Neville blushed slightly while Ginny merely smiled at the challenge.

After they left, Harry remarked, “Who would have thought the two of them would ever get together?”

“Oh, I don't know, Harry. I think they're really good for each other. They balance each other very well. You might not really have noticed over the last year and a half, but Neville has been really different ever since we went to the Department of Mysteries after… Well, he changed a lot after that. I think part of it was the new wand he got that allowed him to improve his spellcasting immensely, but there's also a quiet strength about him that has emerged. And he seems even more confident and sure of himself with Ginny around. Plus I think he might help ground her a bit, help rein in some of her Weasley impulsiveness.”

“Hmmm,” commented Harry thoughtfully as he watched them walk off before looking back to the group where he noticed Ron talking to Gabrielle. A few moments later he watched her laugh at something, nod her head, and then lead him towards the front doors of the Great Hall. Harry slowly shook his head in disappointment.

As the dance was ending and Harry and Hermione were helping clean up, Professor McGonagall walked up to them. “Miss Granger, I hate to ask an additional favor considering how much work you have already put into this Ball, but I was hoping you would be able to help with rounds tonight. I suspect we might have more than our usual number of students out wandering around after hours tonight. Perhaps Mr. Potter could help you round up the students and make sure they get back to their rooms…”

“Of course Professor, it's not a problem.”

“Sure. Mione and I were just about ready to head up to the Astronomy Tower anyways…” grinned Harry cheekily despite McGonagall's glare and Hermione's amused frown.

“I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Mr. Potter. And thank you Miss Granger.”

“Funny, Potter,” smirked Hermione's voice as McGonagall walked away.

Harry pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pouch as they left the other prefects and Professors to finish cleaning up the Great Hall. They decided to start at the Astronomy Tower because judging by the number of dots on the map, that was where the largest number of students were to be found engaged in various post-dance activities.

Two hours later, they collapsed on the couch in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common room.

“I cannot believe there are that many broom closets in this castle,” muttered Harry tiredly. “And we must have kicked that pair of Slytherins out of at least two different closets on each floor.”

“Don't remind me. And don't forget the pair that snuck into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I can't imagine their shock when she brought Peeves and the Bloody Baron in to say hello,” laughed Hermione.

“I'm just glad we didn't find Ginny and Neville anywhere—that would have been just too…uhh”

“Exactly,” finished Hermione with a yawn. “Well, I think I'm ready for bed. Good night.” Hermione rose and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek.

Relaxing in the couch in front of the dying fire, Harry watched the dancing flames for a few minutes. He then stood, stretched his back, and walked to one of the windows and looked out at the full moon riding high in the night sky. The several inches of snow that had fallen earlier that night reflected the moonlight with sparkling brilliance as he gazed out thoughtfully. “I hope you're doing OK tonight, Remus. There's got to be a cure for you out there somewhere.”

Then he turned slowly and walked upstairs to his room. Silently, he opened the door and stepped in. He was halfway to his bed when he froze, realizing something was wrong. He listened intently, trying to figure out what it was. He could hear Seamus muttering in his sleep, Dean's deep breathing, and Neville doing that weird whistling through his nose he always did. But he couldn't hear Ron snoring. He walked over quickly to Ron's bed and pulled back the curtains. Seeing nothing but an empty bed, he swore under his breath.

He sat down and pulled the curtains around him and pulled out his wand and the Marauder's Map. “Lumos. I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good. Where are you Ron?” he muttered as he folded and refolded the map, scanning it thoroughly. Not finding Ron inside the castle, Harry began looking at the grounds and paused when he saw a dot about halfway between the castle and the Forbidden Forest. Then he realized it wasn't moving. He leaped to his feet amidst several complaints from his roommates about the bright light and put the map back in his pouch. Then he disappeared.

“Hermione! Are you awake?!”

“Yes, but I was just about to—what's wrong?”

“Tell Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and Hunt to meet me in the infirmary as soon as they can…”

“Are you OK? Are you hurt?”

“Yes, no, I'm fine. And tell Fleur to come, she'll want to know.”

“Fleur? Why? Who's hurt Harry?”

“It's Gabrielle. She's freezing, she's rambling incoherently, and she's covered in blood.”

--

Next Chapter: Things That Go Bump in the Night

***Author's Note: The lyrics I used are from the song titled Hero, sung by Enrique Iglesias.

-->

Ch 29: Things that Go Bump in the Night

“I couldn't stop, I couldn't…he tried to stop him, he tried…he followed me and they fought and then a monster and there was light and blood everywhere! And more fighting! Then I ran, he told me to, and I could, and I did, I ran…I ran. But the blood, the blood, and the teeth and claws…Ohhh!!! So much blood! I ran, I couldn't stop, I couldn't…”

Fleur Delecour was on her knees at the bedside, trying to hold Gabrielle still as she thrashed wildly on the bed, screaming the same phrases over and over. Hermione and Professor McGonagall were on the other side, trying to help as well. Madame Pomfrey had just finished mixing a Sleeping Draught while Dumbledore, Samuel, and Harry watched and listened in growing frustration.

“That's all she's said since I found her five minutes ago. She just keeps repeating it over and over. It will be easy enough to follow her tracks in the snow back into the forest—I saw them headed back that way. I say we follow them and then track down whatever it was that attacked her—tonight, before we lose the trail. I'll ask Hermione to wake up Hagrid for us and Hunt and I will go with him and find whoever or whatever did this.”

“An excellent idea, Harry, except that I will be accompanying you as well,” added Dumbledore.

“Ready then?” asked Harry. Seeing them both nod in the affirmative, Harry grasped their arms and glanced at Hermione before they disappeared.

“Mione, could you wake up Hagrid and tell him we'll be at his door in a moment?”

“Of course, Harry. Be careful.”

--

“I'm comin'! I'm comin'!” bellowed Hagrid's deep voice as his heavy footsteps approached the heavy door. Hagrid threw his heavy coat over his shoulders, picked up his crossbow, and joined the other three wizards in the moonlit yard.

“Let's go,” urged Harry. “I found her just over there.” A few minutes later Harry waved his hands signaling them to stop. “Let me and Hunt look at the tracks first, before we head into the forest.

Samuel knelt down in the snow, and carefully examined the single set of tracks that led from the Forest. Harry was right beside him, studying the ground closely.

“What do you see?” he asked Harry.

“She left by herself, nobody was pursuing her, but her uneven steps, and the fact that some of them are turned to the side indicate she feared she was being chased. She did not run in a straight line, or at a constant pace, indicating either fatigue or confusion, or both. There's very little blood here where she fell, so she's probably not badly injured—if she had been, this much running would have opened the wounds. Most of that blood on her was dry and was probably from someone, or something else.”

“Good. How long was she lying here in the snow?”

Harry looked closely at the spot, poked at the snow, then shook his head. “I don't know. I would guess maybe half an hour, I don't know for sure.”

“Probably over two hours. See here where the snow has been partially melted and then has refrozen? Compare that spot with another spot where her body heat didn't melt the snow.”

“All this mi' be interestin' to yer, but we need ter find what hurt the poor girl, not stand here talkin' bout the snow n' ice, Samuel,” growled Hagrid.

“Hagrid, by examining these tracks, we learn some valuable clues, including the fact that whatever did this has a little over a two hour lead on us. Now we can go. And Hagrid, please keep your oversized clown feet over there, off to the side of the tracks. We don't want you stepping in the tracks. You too Dumbledore.” Samuel didn't look to see if his suggestions were being followed, but bent his head and began jogging alongside the tracks towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry glanced at the two moving away from the tracks, and then followed on the other side of the tracks slightly behind Samuel.

Fifteen minutes later, they were deep into the Forest where the trail was harder to follow. But Samuel and Harry were up to the task. Another ten minutes of tracking led them to a small clearing.

Hagrid exclaimed, “Thar's a body!” and moved forward before Samuel grabbed his sleeve and tried to restrain him.

“Wait Hagrid. Let me look at him first. Stay here.” Samuel stepped lightly and quickly to the body, checked for a pulse, and shook his head sadly. “Harry, help me look at these tracks. Dumbledore, have a look at this body, would you? Harry will show you where you can step. Hagrid, stay put.”

Harry led Dumbledore to the body, that of a middle-aged man whom Harry didn't recognize. Dumbledore didn't either, but the body was covered with bloody wounds and was nearly naked. While Dumbledore examined the body more closely, Harry began moving away from the body, looking for signs to reveal the story of what had happened. On one side of the clearing he found a pair of large, narrow footprints—nearly human, except they had claw marks in addition to toe prints. They were heading into the clearing. He also found a set of broad, deep paw prints, and they also had claw marks. Other than that, they appeared to be those of a large cat. But cats had retractable claws and didn't leave claw marks. And the tracks were a little larger and deeper than he would have expected, but he recognized the track as a sick feeling rose in his stomach. That sick feeling only grew worse when he found significant traces of blood in several of the tracks, as well as outside of the footprints themselves. Then Samuel called him over to the other edge of the clearing to look at something.

Samuel was pointing at three sets of footprints, nearly overlapping. Harry recognized the smallest set as those of Gabrielle. One set was about the same size as his, the other was several sizes larger.

“Harry, did you see any other tracks headed back to the castle? It appears that this middle set of prints left over there in the direction of the castle. But I haven't found where the other student, if it was a student, left.”

“I didn't see any at the castle, but then I didn't look. And since I teleported, I wouldn't have seen any tracks closer to the door. I'll check.” Before Samuel could protest, Harry had disappeared. Closer to the front gate, he found Hagrid's large bootprints headed out of the castle towards his cabin. He also found Gabrielle's footsteps leading out, side by side with the prints about his size, and the larger footprints following behind. Of all the footprints leading out, there was only one set leading back in—those of the middle sized footprints. He returned to the clearing and informed Samuel.

“So someone besides Gabrielle might be able to tell us what happened here tonight. Probably all three were students, then. But we still don't know who the second or third one was.”

Staring at the ground, Harry miserably announced, “I think the one with big footprints was Ron.”

“Are you sure Harry?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry sighed. “I'm pretty sure. Three sets of human tracks in. One set of dog prints in—I'm guessing the dead guy over there was a werewolf. Two sets of human tracks out. One set of cat-like tracks out. A big tiger, I would say—Ron's animagus form. The bites and slashes on the body definitely look like Ron's work.”

“Is there anything else you wish to share, Harry?” prompted Dumbledore when Harry paused.

Harry stared at the ground.

Samuel added, “Potter, we need to know everything possible about what happened here tonight. Every bit of information is vital.”

“I know, I know,” snapped Harry. Then he paused before adding sadly, “Ron was talking to Gabrielle earlier tonight. I saw them leave the Great Hall together about half an hour before the dance was over.”

“I don' believe it! Yer mus be mistakin' Harry! Ron would ne'er do somthin' like this!” protested Hagrid.

“Let us not jump to any conclusions. We still do not have all the facts. And I refuse to make any judgments until I hear all of the sides, including Mr. Weasley's. What we need to do now is to find both him and the other student at Hogwart's to determine exactly what happened here tonight,” explained Dumbledore. “I too, do not believe that Mr. Weasley has done anything out of character here tonight. What is your best guess of what happened here tonight, Samuel?”

“Well, I'd say that three of your students wandered out here and were attacked by a werewolf. Two returned to the castle, the third is still in the forest somewhere. By the marks on the trees, it looks like at least one, probably two, of the students got off some pretty powerful spells. Any idea what they might have been or who cast them Dumbledore?”

“Not without the specific wands, no. They were powerful offensive spells, but beyond that, the remaining magical aura is too faint to be more specific.”

“So let's go find Ron,” suggested Harry. “Hermione says that Gabrielle is finally resting quietly. Pomfrey said she didn't have any serious injuries. She is treating her for shock and hypothermia.”

“Tell them to make sure that they check for any bite wounds. If they see anything even remotely suspicious, have them contact Snape so that he can begin brewing the Wolfsbane potion,” directed Dumbledore. “Samuel, did the second student have any traces of blood?”

“No.”

“Ron's did,” said Harry quietly.

“Then have Hermione wake up Snape immediately to begin working on the potion. It shouldn't be too late, Harry, but we must find him quickly. And have Minerva get in touch with Arthur. We will have to wait to notify Remus until tomorrow morning.”

“Yes sir.” As Harry and Samuel began following Ron's tracks through the forest, Harry informed Hermione of everything they had learned so far.

“Please be careful, Harry.”

“I will.”

“And don't worry. I'm sure Ron will be fine.”

“I hope so. Thanks, Mione.”

Twenty minutes later, Harry and Samuel paused for a brief discussion as the tracks headed south out of the forest. “We're falling behind Hunt. We're at least three hours behind him now. We're not going to catch him at this rate, not until after daybreak when it's easier to find the tracks anyways.”

Samuel glanced at Dumbledore and Hagrid, who were both breathing heavily in the frigid early morning air. “So do you have a better idea?”

“Yeah, I do. I think I know where he's headed. I'll teleport ahead in short jumps until I find him.”

“Harry, I don't think it's not a good idea to split up. Your friend is still in his animagus form, and he's hurt and running scared. I've known Animagi who got hurt so badly in battle they forgot their human side, and their animal side took over. It can be tough to bring `em back and remind them of who they are.”

“He's my best friend. I'll take my chances,” replied Harry in a flat tone of finality that indicated he thought the discussion was over.

“Potter, wait…” but Harry had already disappeared. “I hate it when he does that,” complained Samuel to Dumbledore and Hagrid. He threw his hands up in exasperation, “If he would just listen to me once in a while instead of running off and doing whatever he thinks…”

“He listens Samuel, but then he makes up his own mind. That is simply Harry being Harry,” chuckled Dumbledore while Hagrid guffawed and sat on a nearby stump.

Hagrid clapped his hands together and warmed them over a small fire Dumbledore had conjured to keep them warm while they waited. “Harry's a great wizard and a good boy, but neve' taken much stock in rules or bein' told what to do, Samuel.”

Samuel snorted and squatted near the fire. “Well, I hope he doesn't regret not having some help if he finds his friend.”

--

Ten minutes and five teleport jumps later, Harry caught sight of a large figure loping easily along in the dark countryside. In his dragonform, he teleported about 100 yards ahead of the tiger and landed before transforming back to his normal form. As the large tiger slowed his run, Harry waited quietly with his hands out. A few paces away from Harry, he realized there was something radically different about the tiger in front of him. Ron's tiger had been large, but the beast in front of him was enormous. It was at least a hundred pounds heavier than Ron's normal tigerform. Besides the ragged slashes and gaping wounds on the neck and shoulders, Harry saw a rage and pain bordering on madness in those huge yellow eyes. As the tiger growled deeply and crouched as if to spring, he wondered for a moment if this wasn't one of those really bad decisions he might later regret. If he lived to regret it.

“Ron,” he said quietly, trying to hide any anxiousness or fear he might feel. “Ron, I know you're in there. I'm here to help you. I want to help you.” He watched the tiger's motionless eyes as he lifted his hand slowly in front of the tiger's massive jaws. The tiger roared suddenly, revealing razor sharp teeth, several still dripping with blood. Harry froze, realizing if he moved he might lose his hand or his life. He also feared that if he teleported away, he might lose his only chance of helping Ron. The tiger closed its mouth and sniffed Harry's fingers while Harry stood as still as possible. He even tried to stop breathing.

Breathing heavily, the tiger dropped to its belly, and laid its head on its front paws. In relief, Harry exhaled and fell to his knees in front of the tiger and looked deeply into the eyes again. The pain was still there, but the madness had left. “Ron. Ron, can you transform back? I'll take you back to Hogwarts, back to Madame Pomfrey, she can patch you back up good as new. They're working on a potion to take care of the werewolf bites. Don't worry, everything will be fine, Ron. But I need to take you back. Can you hear me Ron? Ron…”

Slowly, Harry watched as Ron transformed. Most of Ron's clothing was torn and shredded and matted with blood. But what was most surprising to Harry was that even sprawled on the ground, he was pretty sure that Ron was several inches taller and at least fifty pounds heavier than he had been last night. Ron started shivering and shaking as Harry put an arm around one of his shoulders, lifting him to a sitting position. “Come on Ron, let's go home.” And they disappeared.

--

Harry reappeared in the clearing where he had left Dumbledore, Samuel, and Hagrid. “I found him. Pomfrey's looking after him right now—he's in pretty rough shape. Come here and I'll take you all back to the castle.”

When they reappeared in the infirmary, Arthur and Molly were sitting near the bed where they had laid Ron, who was tossing and turning, thrashing wildly on the bed. Hermione quickly moved to Harry's side and they walked over to Ron's bed.

“No! Leave her alone! Protego! Reducto! Ahhhh, my leg! What is that!? Help me! Incendio! No! Get away from her! Run! Get help! RUN! AhhhhhrrrRRRRRR!”

Molly was leaning heavily on Arthur, her shoulders shaking with sobs as Arthur looked hopefully towards Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore. “Is there anything more we can do for him?” he pleaded.

“Beyond a Sleeping Draught to calm him down and Wolfsbane to prevent him from turning into a werewolf, I'm afraid there is not much more that we can do except wait. And pray,” replied Pomfrey sadly. “Once he is resting, I can finish dressing these wounds—they're serious but not life-threatening. Luckily, he hasn't lost too much blood.”

“Arthur, Molly, with your permission, I would like to have Hermione try to read Ron's memories. I would not ask except there is still another student who may need help and she has already tried with Miss Delecour without luck. It seems some of her memories have been partially erased. Ron's memories of what happened in that clearing may be the only chance we have to find this third student.”

“Of course, Albus. Anything we can do to help.”

Dumbledore nodded to Hermione who moved closer to the bed. She rested her hands lightly on the side of his head and concentrated intently. Ron seemed to settle down slightly at her touch.

Hermione found herself in a thick, dense jungle. She slowly pushed her way forward through the clinging vines and undergrowth, trying to make sense of the landscape around her. She finally stumbled into a clearing with a small pool. She approached and looked deep into the waters. She saw flashing images of classrooms at Hogwarts, of the Quidditch pitch, and of the Burrow.

She brushed the still waters with a fingertip, setting off a small series of ripples and the images seemed to slow down. She tapped the water again, and the images seemed to run backwards in time. Recognizing the patterns of the pool, she tapped the water twice more and observed closely the images playing before her in the pool.

--

Once again she was at the Halloween Ball, but not with Harry. There were nearly a dozen other boys, all puffing out their chests and telling outrageous stories about things they had done, trying to impress the beautiful French girl with long silver hair who stood in their midst, giggling at some of the more unbelievable exaggerations. She leaned over and whispered, “Would you like to go for a ride on a real Firebolt?”

Gabrielle laughed and replied, “I'd love to, but I only know of one Firebolt here at Hogwarts.”

“I'm seeing everything through Ron's eyes,” realized Hermione.

“Don't worry, Harry will never miss it.”

“I wouldn't bet on that Ron,” thought Hermione.

Gabrielle laughed and whispered softly, “Come on then Ron,” and led him towards the front doors.

Hermione cringed, then she remembered the condition Harry had found her in and she immediately regretted her feelings of jealousy and bitterness towards Gabrielle.

She followed Gabrielle out of the Great Hall and through the hallways until they were at the foot of the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor Common rooms. “Wait here, I'll be right back in a minute,” she heard Ron say. Then she raced up the stairs so fast she got dizzy.

“Boys!” she muttered to herself.

Ron shouted out the password, burst through the portrait, and sprinted up the boys' stairs. Ron muttered the password that disarmed the warding spells on Harry's broomcase, reached in and pulled out Harry's most prized possession. He turned to leave, then grabbed two heavy sweaters with hoods and a blanket off his bed and ran back down the stairs.

“What a romantic…”

She jerked to a halt on the last step and stared at the sight before her. Gabrielle was laughing and talking with none other than Draco Malfoy.

“Weasel, what on earth are you doing? Going for some late night Quidditch practice—well, don't let us stop you. We all know you can use it.” He laughed and so did Gabrielle.

“I am the captain, maybe you'd like to make the bench your permanent home, Ferret boy.”

“Weasel, you are so pathetic. We all know the only reason you're the captain and I'm not is that once again, Potter saved your pathetic arse. Hey, isn't that Potter's Firebolt? Merlin, Weasel, you are pathetic. With friends like you, I'm not sure Potter needs any more enemies. Come on luv, let's go.”

Gabrielle laughed and hooked her arm around Malfoy's and whispered sweetly. “Sorry Ron, maybe some other time. Draco had a much better idea than freezing to death on a broomstick tonight. It looks pretty cold out there.” Then they walked away, laughing and talking.

“Oh Ron. I am so sorry she treated you like this.”

She retraced her footsteps slowly up the stairs and replaced the blanket, the sweaters, and Harry's Firebolt. Then she walked over to the windows and saw the tired, sad face of Ron reflected in one of the large panes. As she walked closer and leaned her forehead against the cold glass, she noticed movement outside in the snow by the castle walls. In the clear moonlight, she could see two figures, one with short silver blonde hair, and the other with long, shiny silver hair. But something about them seemed odd, something about the way they moved seemed wrong. Before she knew what was happening, she had grabbed one of the sweaters and was sprinting back down the stairs and towards the front doors. The cold air slapped her sharply in the face as she pulled on the sweater, still running towards the front gate. Outside the walls, she turned left, running behind the twin trail of footsteps in front of her. The tracks led straight into the Forbidden Forest and she plunged headlong into it.

Suddenly she noticed that her perspective was much lower to the ground, and that she could see much better as well. And her hearing and sense of smell were much sharper as well.

“He shifted to his Animagus form!” she realized.

Amidst the many scents she detected on the cool night breeze were two that definitely did not belong in the Forest. A light, flowery scent of mild soap and perfume distinguished the girl. The sharper aroma of musk and damp stone identified the Slytherin Ron hated. She padded silently through the forest, occasionally spotting a track, but mostly following their scent deeper into the dark forest. After a few minutes, she spotted an open clearing with two human figures. She could easily hear the angry voices in the clearing.

“Stop fighting it, you tramp. You are not strong enough to throw off the Imperious curse.”

“Draco, please…please…why are you doing this? Please, just let me go…I won't tell anyone…”

“Of course you won't. Memoria!” Then he slapped her hard across the face. “And don't you dare call me Draco again. Imperio!”

Hermione could feel a knot tightening in her stomach, she wanted to throw up as she watched the girl's eyes glaze over and Draco smile broadly.

“Now kiss me,” he commanded and she immediately leaned forward.

Hermione wanted to turn her head in anger and disgust. Instead she leaped forward and screamed “No! Leave her alone!

She hadn't realized she had transformed back to Ron's human shape or that he had drawn his wand.

“Weasel! Once again, you have stuck your freckled nose where it does not belong. But what if, yes, that will be even better—Slicio!”

“Protego!” shouted Ron just in time to deflect the devastating cutting charm.

“Good, good, Weasel. Nice to see all that training with Potter and Snape allowed you to survive at least one spell.” He then nimbly rolled to one side as Ron shouted “Reducto!” before he countered with “Corpus Immobolis!”

Suddenly Hermione felt her body freeze in place, unable to move. Apprehensively, she watched as Malfoy stepped closer with a terrible grin on his face.

“Oh, and for being a Weasley, Crucio!”

Hermione tried to scream, but her voice refused to cooperate. Pain beyond anything she could imagine wracked her body, yet she could do nothing. She was only experiencing Ron's memory of this brutal attack, she couldn't imagine how much more painful the real experience had been. Finally, Malfoy lifted the curse and laughed.

“Still with us Weasel? Good. That will make all of this so much sweeter. You can watch while I finish with her. Of course, you won't remember any of this, I will have to alter your memory as well. You will actually believe you killed her and will confess. And I will be the hero that brings you to justice—too late to save her unfortunately. Your family and friends will be devastated, and they'll run your father out of office in a heartbeat. Imagine, the son of the Minister of Magic a murderer—no they'll sack him within the week. Of course, you'll get to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban—a most disagreeable place, let me tell you.”

With growing horror, Hermione watched helplessly as Malfoy turned back towards Gabrielle.

“Draco, please, don't do this!”

Malfoy slapped her again, rocking her head from side to side and then raised his wand again. “I warned you…”

“NO FATHER! I won't let you do this! I won't let you hurt her anymore!”

Hermione stared in shock as Draco screamed out loud and fell to his kness, dropping his wand and gripping the sides of his head with both hands. With a trembling hand, he reached out again for his wand and raised it slowly.

“Finite Incantatum.”

“Nooooo! Draco, you foolish boy. Once I am finished with these two, I promise you, I will deal with your betrayal.”

“Run Gabrielle! I can't fight him off much longer. RUN!” But she stood there in shock.

Agony shot through Hermione's leg as sharp teeth sank deep into her left calf muscle. She could feel the pain and raw animal fury building within her. Ron had continued to struggle against the paralyzing charm to no avail. But she could sense the spell weakening against this new surge of rage. “Ahhhh, my leg!” she screamed, breaking free of the curse. She half turned and shouted “What is that!?” at the sight of the large creature to his side. Backing away, she yelled in vain, “Help me! Incendio!” Flames shot out from Ron's wand and singed the fur of the werewolf, causing it to scream in pain. It leaped away from Ron and closer to Malfoy and Gabrielle. “No! Get away from her! Run! Get help!”

Malfoy, his eyes wide with fear, backed away slowly as Gabrielle remained frozen in fear, watching the approaching werewolf. “Slicio! Incendio!” screamed Malfoy. Its chest bleeding, and its hair singed again, the werewolf howled in agony. But it avoided the pain causing wizard and turned towards the frozen witch. Malfoy laughed evilly and turned and ran off into the forest as the werewolf crouched, preparing to leap on the frightened witch.

“RUN!” screamed Hermione as she ran towards the werewolf, transforming as she moved forward. “AhhhhhrrrRRRRRR!” she roared as she launched herself at the beast. As she rolled around with the werewolf on the ground, biting, tearing, and slashing, she noticed that Gabrielle finally ran off in the direction of the castle. A few minutes later, the fight was over, and she watched as the werewolf slowly returned to its human form in death. But she could sense the battle rage and confusion continuing in Ron's mind. Unsure what to do, she left the clearing. After several minutes, following instinct, she headed south towards the Burrow.

“Mione! Mione! Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Did you find out what happened?”

“Yeah,” came the weary reply. In a flash, she shared with Harry everything she had just seen.

“Miss Granger? Are you alright? You gave us quite a shock,” asked a concerned Dumbledore as she opened her eyes and moved back from Ron's side.

“You started shaking and screamed a few times,” explained Harry to a confused looking Hermione. “And I couldn't reach you through our mental link.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry anyone. And yes, I found out what happened.” As she explained what had happened in the clearing, Harry pulled out his Marauder's Map and began examining it closely. When she finished, she looked at him and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I'm looking for Lucius. I don't know what he's done to Draco, but he's got to be here somewhere. He left both of them to be killed by the werewolf—he'll think he's gotten away with everything. I know he's still here somewhere. He's up to something and I'm going to find him. I just can't figure out where he's hiding—I've been watching Draco for weeks and I've seen no trace of Lucius Malfoy on the map. Maybe he's left already, though he couldn't have Apparated away. He could have used a portkey I suppose, but he wouldn't want to leave his wand behind. What am I missing?”

Hermione thought quietly for a minute. “Is the Chamber of Secrets on your map?”

“I doubt it or the twins would have said something about it in our second year when they had the map. Wait, here it is right here. I'm sure it wasn't there before,” said Harry thoughtfully.

“So that is how you acquired that unique map,” commented Dumbledore.

“What about the Head Girl's room?” continued Hermione.

Blushing, Harry protested, “Mione, you know I've never been in your bedroom.”

“Just look for it on the map,” she insisted.

“Nope, nothing there,” answered Harry. Then he began rapidly refolding the map. “And no Head Boy's room in the Slytherin dungeons, either. That has to be where Lucius is hiding. Brilliant Mione,” said Harry, his eyes flashing as he stood. “One more thing Mione. I need to borrow the sword.”

“Harry, this isn't about revenge. Don't drop to his…”

“I know. But Lucius has escaped more times than I can count. I want to make sure he doesn't get away again.”

“Then let me come and help.”

“No, you should stay here and help Ron and his parents.”

“You're just trying to keep me out of harm's way.”

“I know.”

“Harry, I'm coming with you.”

With resignation, Harry replied, “Fine.” Harry kissed her forehead after she passed him the beltloop. He then straightened up and turned towards the doors.

“I'm right behind yer, Harry,” boomed Hagrid.

“I'd love the help Hagrid, but I'm not sure you'll fit through the Slytherin portrait door,”

“And how would yer be knowin' that, Harry?” asked Hagrid in amusement.

“Mione told me it didn't take long to glue their door shut as a prank,” replied Harry with a completely straight face. “But if we need some help, I'll come back for you in the blink of an eye Hagrid, I promise.” Then Harry turned to leave again as Dumbledore chuckled.

“Harry, I believe I will be joining you as well. I am still the Headmaster of this school, after all.”

“I'd appreciate the company sir.” Harry reached for his sleeve and Hermione's shoulder but only Harry and Dumbledore disappeared from sight.

“HARRY!” screamed Hermione in frustration.

Hermione stared at the empty spot for a moment and Hagrid reached over and tried to pat her lightly on the back, attempting to comfort her but nearly knocking her from her chair in the process. “Don't be too upset with him, he's only tryin' to keep yer safe is all. And don't ya worry, now. There's nothin' nor nobody the two of them together can't defeat. Not even a dark wizard as nasty as Lucius Malfoy,” spat Hagrid.

“I know,” replied Hermione, sitting back in her chair. Her anger slowly ebbed away as she looked sadly at Ron and his worried parents.

--

When they appeared in the middle of the Slytherin common room, they startled several students lounging around on the couches and chairs.

“Have any of you seen Malfoy tonight?” asked Harry. “Answer me!” he added angrily.

“He left the dance early, nobody's seen him since,” stuttered one of the startled students.

“It is very late, I believe you should all head upstairs to your rooms,” suggested Dumbledore in a quiet voice. Harry and he were alone in the room within ten seconds.

Harry whipped out his map again and studied it closely in the flickering firelight. With a finger he tapped part of the map. “Where would the Head Boy's room be? Is Draco still using it?”

“It would be over there, behind that tapestry. But Draco was moved back to his room with his classmates when I stripped him of his Head Boy privileges. And Professor Snape would have changed the password.”

“Maybe he figured it out…” Harry stood in front of the tapestry and muttered softly holding his wand aloft. “Wow. It looks like Lucius knows some pretty nasty defensive wards.”

“Quite right, Harry. These should only take a moment or so to remove and then…”

“But won't he know that we've removed them as soon as we do that? I'm sure he has at least one of them trapped to set off an alarm…”

“Then it might take me a few more minutes to remove them…”

“While you're working on that, I'm just going to pop in and…”

“No, Harry, wait and we'll…” Dumbledore sighed heavily as Harry disappeared, “go in together. Ah, impatient youth,” he muttered as he began removing the defensive wards very carefully but as quickly as he could.

On the other side of the wall, Harry's luck held briefly. It was always dangerous teleporting into an unknown area, one hoped not to find oneself reappearing in the middle of a wall or piece of furniture. He hadn't done so this time, but Harry's luck ended there. He found himself in the middle of a dark circle, drawn on the floor in what appeared to be black chalk. And he found himself completely unable to move. His shock turned to dread when he realized that he couldn't teleport, either.

“Ahh, so good of you to finally join us Potter. As you can see, I saved you a very good spot to watch the end of this little ceremony.”

Harry would have gasped in horror had he been able to move. Black candles throughout the room lent the dark room an infernal, hellish atmosphere magnified by the various bubbling potions and chalk drawings everywhere in the room. On a bed to his side lay the still body of Lucius Malfoy, his chest naked and with blood oozing slowly from a series of runes etched into his chest. And before him, holding a bloody knife, was Draco who slowly stood up from his work on his father's chest. He then pulled off his own shirt as he spoke to Harry.

“Don't be so surprised—I've had this little trap waiting for you for some time. I'm surprised the Mudblood hasn't warned you that there are not only spells to prevent teleportation, but spells to trap teleporters. Maybe she's not as clever as she thinks. No matter. But it is a shame that the werewolf didn't finish off the Weasel and the girl—I'm assuming one of them survived and that's how you found me. I should have just killed them both and finished it myself. I didn't realize veela were highly resistant to mental spells—otherwise she couldn't have fought off my Imperious and memory charms for so long. And the Weasel's temper—it takes a lot of energy to break one of my binding spells.”

As he was speaking, he had reversed his hold on the dagger so that its point was aimed at his own chest. Gritting his teeth, he began carving similar runes on his own chest that had been cut into his father's chest. Meanwhile, Harry was focusing intently with his senses, desperately looking for some means of escape.

Draco chuckled as he walked over to grab his wand from a table. “Your precious Headmaster won't be able to save you in time, Potter. It will take him too long to undo the defensive wards and he won't dare risk the lives of the Slytherin students, especially with those nasty explosive wards I added. And as soon as I finish the incantation, I will kill you.” He stopped to look at Harry for a moment. “It's too bad I won't be able to keep my body, but with everyone looking for me, it seems more convenient to continue in the body of my son. I am looking forward to restoring the pride of the Malfoy family with it. I should thank you for rescuing me from my father, once again you'll get to be the hero—don't worry, I'll tell everyone how you sacrificed your life for your longtime rival and enemy. The papers will eat it up. It's a terrible pity I can't take your body, but if you had the willpower to defeat my Master, I am not so foolish as to try and best you in a contest of wills. No, I believe the killing curse will do just fine. You know, if you hadn't fought so hard at the trial, you might have lived a very long life in Azkaban. But before you die, Potter, know this. I will continue killing those closest to you. If the weasel is already dead, I guess that moves the Mudblood to the top of the list. Now watch closely, Potter, and witness my final triumph before I kill you.”

Raising, his wand in one hand, he raised the bloody knife in the other and began chanting in a low voice. His voice slowly growing in volume, he pointed his wand at the body of Lucius. Then his wand exploded, knocking him across the room. He slammed into a wall and several candles fell on his shoulders, the burning wax searing his skin. “Ahhhh!” he roared and glared at Harry. Meanwhile, Harry focused on a small pendant hanging from a hook which Harry had sensed was a portkey, probably Malfoy's means of escape. Harry had realized that if Lucius was really able to take over someone else's body, then he wouldn't be worried about taking his wand with him. As Harry concentrated, it too exploded in a shower of glass and metal chips. “Potter!” came Malfoy's agonized scream again. Harry saw Malfoy step within his line of vision again. Raising his dagger high, he charged towards Harry. As he approached, a small breeze blew some of the black chalk from the circle. As Malfoy charged, Harry spun and launched a vicious spinning kick that caught him on the side of his face and sent him staggering back to the bed which he then fell back on.

“I will kill you Potter!” screamed Malfoy as he reached again for the bloody dagger. He found the dagger and then paused as Harry approached. “No, Draco, no!” Harry saw Draco's arm jerk hesitantly upward, and then plunge downwards into the chest of his father lying on the bed. “What have you done?!” The dagger still held in one fist, Malfoy tumbled to his knees and began rocking back and forth, as if some great internal struggle was taking place within his body.

“Fight him Draco! Fight him!” shouted Harry as hesitantly stepped forward, looking for a way to help.

Suddenly Malfoy stopped rocking and slowly rose to his feet.

“Are you OK, Draco?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Potter.” Then the dagger shot forward, aimed at Harry's stomach. Without thinking, Harry stepped sideways and lowered his arm to block. But instead of blocking Malfoy's wrist with his forearm, the dagger sank deeply into his arm. Harry screamed as it easily sliced through muscle and then lodged between the two bones of the arm. With a twist and another scream of pain, Harry wrenched the dagger from Malfoy's grip where it stayed embedded deep in Harry's forearm.

“I'll kill you with my bare hands if I have to!” shouted an enraged Malfoy, nearly insane with fury as he tried to grasp Harry's throat with both hands. Harry twisted to his left and threw his unwounded right arm over the top of Malfoy's, then brought it down on the elbows, breaking Malfoy's grip on his throat. As Malfoy tumbled towards him, Harry snapped his head forward, smashing Malfoy's nose and stunning him momentarily.

“Draco! I know you're still in there! I can help you fight your dad! Don't let him win!”

“Saldar! Can you help me get into his head? I need to help Draco fight off his dad!”

Suddenly Harry found himself in a large courtyard crowded with weeds. A few hundred yards away stood an enormous mansion in obvious disrepair. All around him were dead bushes and plants. And in front of him were two figures he recognized as Draco and Lucius, dueling with wands. Off to his side stood Saldar. Harry nodded to him and drew his own wand. Suddenly Draco fell, hit by what looked like the Cruciatus curse as Lucius laughed. Harry launched a stunning spell and Lucius turned aside just in time. Harry quickly followed it up with a flame charm, and then Draco hit his father with a Cruciatus curse.

“Draco, that's enough! That's enough!” shouted Harry.

“It will never make up for what he's done to my mother and me. Never!”

“Draco! I didn't come here to kill your father. I came to save you. Now I can help you get him out of your mind, so he can't possess you, but you're going to have to help.”

“He's not just trying to possess my body, Potter! He's trying to swap our souls!”

“Well then let's put him back where he belongs.”

Together, the three of them bound Lucius and then they simultaneously cast a banishing charm on Lucius.

“It's not working!” screamed Draco.

“Keep focusing!” shouted Harry. “Spells work differently here, it's your force of will that really matters. You have to will him out of your body!”

Suddenly Harry found himself flat on the floor of Malfoy's room again. Dizzily, he tried to stand and saw Draco slowly climbing to his feet as well. They stood, looked at each other, and then turned towards the raspy, labored breathing on the bed. Lucius still lay on the bed, his chest now soaked with blood from the deep stab wound that Draco had made with the dagger. Lucius turned and coughed up some blood, then began cursing his son.

“How could you betray me Draco? You are a Malfoy,” he hissed angrily.

“You tried to kill me, father. And you nearly got Mum killed. She's as good as dead. And if this is what it means to be a Malfoy, then I am no longer a Malfoy.” In disgust, Draco spat in his father's face. “I will create a new name for myself among wizards, one that people will honour and respect, not fear and loathe.” Leaning closer Draco sneered, “I hope you burn in hell with your accursed Master.” Then Malfoy turned away from his dying father.

Lucius' eyes flicked to Harry's for a moment. “You…” he started, then began coughing again. “You will…” But Lucius never got to finish his last threat. Harry watched the dead eyes for a moment, then turned away to look for Draco. Draco was near the door dispelling some of the defensive wards. Harry helped and a few minutes later, the door opened and in rushed Dumbledore.

“Draco! Harry! Are you two…” Dumbledore's eyes quickly took in the room and noticed the dead body of Lucius. “The two of you need to go to the infirmary immediately. I'll…” But that was all Harry heard.

--

Harry woke up staring at the all-too familiar white ceiling and smelling the strong, clean aroma of the infirmary. He raised his bandaged arm to scratch his head and slowly sat up as the first rays of morning light penetrated the infirmary's windows.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Potter? That was a nasty little knife I had to pull out of your arm,” commented Madame Pomfrey.

“I'm sure it will heal. I think my new scar should complement the one from the basilisk fang rather nicely, don't you?”

“You're going to have to hire your own nurse after you graduate Mr. Potter—assuming you survive that long of course. I keep telling Dumbledore that he needs to hire me an assistant in here—one of us can take care of you, and the other can take care of the hundreds of other students in the school who are less accident prone,” she complained as she leaned over to examine his bandages.

“How's Ron doing?”

“I believe Severus just finished brewing the potion. He'll be giving it to the four of you in a moment.”

“What?” he asked, but she had already turned away. “Help me up,” asked Harry. “Please? I'm sorry Hermione. I was just trying to protect you.”

“I know Harry. But when are you going to realize I can protect myself?”

“Mione…”

“We can finish discussing this later,” she finished and extended her hand. With Hermione's help, he stood rather shakily and made his way down the aisle to Ron's bedside. He could hear choking and gagging coming from beds elsewhere in the infirmary.

As Snape walked over, carrying two small glass flasks, Harry asked, “What is going on?”

“That, Mr. Potter, is the sound of the Wolfsbane potion being administered. And here is yours.”

“What?! But I didn't get bit, I told you.”

“But you were stabbed with a dagger that had Draco's blood on it.”

“But he wasn't bit either.”

“And you've been in contact with Mr. Weasley, who was bitten,” continued Snape.

“It is for your own safety, Harry,” explained Dumbledore

“Drink up,” grinned Snape with malicious humor as he handed him a flask.

Harry grabbed the flask hesitantly, popped the top off and nearly gagged. He threw his head back quickly poured the thick liquid down his throat, trying to swallow the nauseous concoction as quickly as possible. It tasted foul and burned as it slid down his throat. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Harry grinned at Snape. “Hah, that wasn't so b…”

Harry dove for the bucket by Snape's feet and emptied his stomach with gagging, wracking heaves.

“Ahh, very good Potter. Get it all up.”

Harry looked up angrily at Snape. “Are you sure you mixed it right, Professor? I mean, isn't the whole point of drinking a potion to keep it down so it can do its work?”

“Obviously, I was too generous in grading your Wolfsbane essay, Potter. As you should recall, the Wolfsbane potion reacts with the saliva from a werewolf's bite that causes the transformation. If administered within twenty-four hours of being bitten, the potion will give you a slight fever as it burns up any saliva it finds within the bloodstream and prevents it from infecting the nervous system, the muscles, and the organs. The fact that you just threw up the potion is a good sign—it means that your body doesn't have any of the saliva from a werewolf that will give you lyncanthropy. If instead of throwing up, you simply relaxed into a light sleep, that would indicate it was administered too late—the transformation had already taken place. The potion would then not cure you, it would only help treat the symptoms.”

With a slight smile as Harry finished heaving his guts, Snape added, “The Wolfsbane potion is intended for werewolves, humans can't stomach it.”

“Funny, Snape,” muttered Harry as he rinsed his mouth out with some water that Hermione had brought him. Snape then turned and gave Ron the antidote while Hagrid and Arthur held him still. Harry looked up to watch as did everyone else did, waiting for Ron to begin throwing up. Instead, Ron calmed down and drifted off to restful sleep. Arthur put an arm around Molly, who had put both of her shaking hands over her face. Harry looked at Hermione as Madame Pomfrey spoke quietly.

“Professor Snape, does…does this mean…”

A sad, quiet voice spoke from behind the group. “I'm afraid it means that Ron has become a werewolf…like me.” Everyone turned to look at a thin, very mournful Remus Lupin, who looked sadly at Ron and his parents who were now trying to comfort each other as Molly cried.

--

Next Chapter: Charming the Beasts

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Ch 30: French Escapades

Harry froze then staggered away to another bed and collapsed on it. “This is all my fault. I…I shouldn't have made him transform before I teleported us. Maybe if I hadn't, he wouldn't have…”

“It's not your fault, Harry, it's mine. I'm the Head Girl. I should have checked to make sure everyone got back to their rooms after the dance. I should have…”

“That is enough. Neither of you is responsible for what happened to Mr. Weasley last night. There is more than enough blame to spread between myself, Professor McGonagall, and the three students involved tonight. But assigning blame or feeling guilty will not help Mr. Weasley. What he will need is your support and understanding—more so now than ever before. Now if you will excuse me, I need to speak with Remus and make a few alterations to ensure that Mr. Weasley may remain with us here at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore stared steadily at both Harry and Hermione for a moment, then walked over to Remus. The two of them then left, leaving Arthur and Molly by Ron's bedside.

Harry reached out for Hermione's hand, pulled himself up, and walked with her over to Ron's bed where they sat down beside his parents and looked down sadly at their best friend who continued to rest quietly.

*-*-*

Harry was still tired later that day as he sat with Draco and Dumbledore explaining his version of events to Lupin after Draco had finished.

Dumbledore looked very grim. “The Anima Extorsi ritual. One of the darkest, and most fiendish acts that one can commit in the Dark Arts. It hasn't been attempted in over a century.” He looked directly at Draco. “I assume your father began the process sometime after school began…” Dumbledore continued after Draco's brief nod. “You are very lucky to have survived, Draco.” He looked away, his voice quavering for a moment, “I find it very difficult to believe that even Lucius would attempt such a thing—to steal the soul of his only son and take his body…”

“You didn't know him like I did, sir,” replied Draco quietly.

Albus gazed at him sadly for a moment and then looked at Harry. “And it was very fortunate for Draco that the dagger drew your blood as well, allowing you to help Draco interrupt the process of the final spell to finish the ceremony.”

“Well, I saw Draco using the dagger on both himself and his father. And Voldemort had been very concerned with using my blood to bring himself back to life. I had done some research on spells involving the use of blood, but I had never come across the Anima Extorsi. I had a hunch there might be some significance to the blood and well, I guess I just lucked out.”

“No, Harry, you did not just luck out. You trusted your instincts. And they rarely fail you,” said Remus softly, his voice full of admiration. “Thank you, Draco. I believe I have all the information I need. Harry, if you could stay a moment, I have a few more questions.”

After Draco had left, Lupin asked him again to recount everything that had taken place the night before when he went looking for Ron. When Harry had finished, he sat, thinking quietly.

“Harry, did you say that Ron's Animagus form appeared larger than normal?”

“Yes. And I think he's a little taller and a little heavier in his regular form as well, though it was hard to be sure last night.”

“Hmmm. I'll check with his parents.”

“And you said that the tracks were catlike, but had claw marks as well?” interrupted Dumbledore.

“Yes,” replied Lupin as Harry nodded. “I went and checked them for myself with Samuel earlier this morning. Very strange.”

“Why would that be sir? I didn't give it much thought last night, but…well, what do you think it means? How could he have transformed so quickly? Snape said if the Wolfsbane potion was administered within twenty-four hours then…”

Harry and Lupin both looked at Dumbledore who simply shrugged and replied, “Professor Snape, Harry. I do not understand what happened to Mr. Weasley yet. But I feel it is very important for us to find out.”

-*-*-

Later that afternoon, the Weasley family, Harry, Hermione, and a number of Gryffindors were sitting or standing around Ron's bed visiting, trying to lift his spirits and reassure him. He had thrown several raging tantrums earlier in the morning when he woke up and was told about his new condition but since then had been unnaturally quiet. Amidst the light chatter, a new, soft voice tried to make itself heard.

“Ron? Ron?” Several of the Gryffindors moved aside as Ron sat up in his bed, trying to see who was talking to him.

Gabrielle Delacour stepped lightly to the end of his bed and slowly looked up into Ron's eyes. “Ron? I just wanted to say thank you. You saved my life last night in the forest. Thank you and…and I am so sorry about what happened last night. I feel like it's all my fault and I am soo…”

“Well, you're right about that. It was all your fault. If you hadn't ditched me to go off with Malfoy, neither one of us would have…”

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” she cried as she burst into tears and turned away, running for the door.

“That's right! Keep on running! Just like you did last night!” he yelled at the sobbing figure.

“Ron!” shouted out half a dozen voices.

“Weasel!”

A hush fell over the crowd and Ron tensed as Draco stepped into his view.

“She only came to offer her apologies, as am I. There is no need for you to jump all over…” His words were cut off as Ron sprang from his bed like a monster possessed and landed on his chest, knocking Draco flat on his back. Snarling, Ron wrapped his huge hands around Draco's throat and began squeezing.

“You…you did this Malfoy! Damn you Malfoy, you'll pay for this!”

Seamus and Dean grabbed one of his arms, Harry and Neville grabbed the other and tried to pull him off of Draco. Ron swept his right arm away and sent Seamus and Dean flying into the next bed. As Ron tensed his left arm, Harry pinched a nerve on top of the elbow and his arm fell limp to his side. Ron's right arm shot out and grabbed Harry by the throat as he screamed, “You're taking his side? You're trying to protect him?! Don't you know what he did to me?! I'm a werewolf because of him!”

Harry struggled to speak, but couldn't get any words out as he tried without luck to pry open Ron's fingers.

“Ron!” screamed Molly. “Let him go! He's your best friend!”

“He saved your life son!” shouted Arthur.

Harry watched the tendons in Ron's arm slowly relax and he pushed Ron's hand away, gasping for air. Ron stood and glared at the shocked group around him. “Go away. All of you. Go on, GET LOST!!!”

Hermione helped Harry to his feet, then Harry and Neville helped Draco while the twins helped Seamus and Dean. Molly lingered for a moment, but Arthur gently pulled her away. Ron stood still, ignoring everyone with his back turned.

As the group left, nobody noticed the thin girl standing by the wall with long, blonde hair watching sadly. When everyone had left, including Madame Pomfrey, she walked quietly to the far side of the room where Ron's bed was found.

“I heard you walking fifty feet ago. And I heard your heartbeat at twenty. Now, unless you're deaf, you heard me tell everyone to go away. So go. I don't want anyone bothering me. Just leave me alone.”

“That's not what you want, Ron. And you know it.”

“Don't tell me what I want or don't want. Who do you think you…” words failed him as he turned and saw Luna Lovegood standing there in front of him. “What do you want?”

“I didn't come here to talk about what I wanted, Ron. I came here to talk to you. I want to help if I can—just like the rest of your friends.”

“Well, unless you know a cure for werewolves, you're out of luck. Now get lost.”

“That's enough, Ronald Weasley!” she snapped. “Everyone here wants to help you and all you do is push people away. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Wha…” was the only word Ron could muster at the moment as he looked at Luna. Something seemed different about her. Her eyes, which normally had a misty or slightly vague expression, were a bright blue and seemed to be boring straight into him. Her whole demeanor, which usually gave an impression of absentmindedness, appeared focused and sharp. In confusion, he bumped into the bed behind him and sat down.

“That's better,” she continued in a slightly softer tone of voice as she too, sat down. “Now I'd like to talk to you about your problem and help if I can.”

His anger returning, Ron snapped. “It's pretty obvious what my problem is…I'm a werewolf and unless you have a…”

“That's not your biggest problem Ron.”

“What…what are you talking about? You don't even know me! How dare you…”

“I know you better than you think, Ron. You don't know exactly who you are or what you want to be—you've always had to compete with your older brothers. It's very tough to stand out in a family like yours. And the one chance you had, when you finally started at Hogwarts, you made best friends with the smartest witch in the school and the most famous wizard in the world. Until last spring, that wasn't too bad, you were part of the Trio that everyone somehow knew would find a way to defeat Voldemort. You're the funniest of the three, but you always knew that jokes weren't going to finish him off—it would be Hermione's brains and Harry's power that would triumph. And now you feel like the third wheel of the Trio, especially since Harry and Hermione have grown closer. You feel left behind and unsure how you fit in anymore.”

Ron's eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging open as he listened.

“You pretend like you don't care about school, about what you're going to do after you graduate, but you do. But you don't know what you want in life, who you want to be. And you want to do something big, be somebody important, but you're not sure how to do it or if you have it in you. And you've been getting more frustrated because you can't figure it out.”

Ron's hands had clenched into fists and he was looking away from Luna's penetrating gaze.

“And now you feel like you've lost everything, because of this werewolf bite. You've seen what Remus's life was like before, you're afraid you have no future, no opportunities before you, even if your dad is the new Minister of Magic. You're terrified that maybe there's nothing to live for now.”

Ron was shaking now.

“You're afraid everyone will abandon you, that they will leave you all alone.”

“GET OUT!” he screamed, leaping from his bed.

Luna just looked up at him calmly as he towered above her. “No.”

“WHAT?!”

“I said no Ron. I'm your friend and I won't abandon you. And neither will your family and other friends. Listen, I know what it feels like to…”

“You have no idea how I feel!”

“Did Harry ever tell you why I could see thestrals?”

“What?! No.”

“I didn't think so. Harry's a very loyal friend that way. Listen, Ron. I've exposed some of your secrets, it's only fair that I share one of mine. I can see thestrals because I saw my mum die when I was ten. She was a brilliant witch, but one of her experiments went wrong. I heard something in her lab, an explosion, and I ran to see what was wrong. I saw her lying on the floor, stretching her hand to me and then there was another explosion. I don't remember any more than that. The doctors were never sure what happened and they haven't been able to help me…”

“Help you, help you with what?” asked Ron.

Luna laughed, but it sounded bitter. Ron had never heard her laugh like that.

“Oh, don't act like you don't know Ron. There's no need to be polite about it—most people aren't and you've mentioned it more than once. You know, when I act goofy and loopy—the reason people call me Loony Lovegood.”

Ron's face blushed red and he turned aside, feeling a strong sense of guilt wash over him.

Luna pretended not to notice. “The doctors believe something in the lab or the final explosion did something to me. But they haven't been able to figure out how to prevent those episodes when I act like—well, you've seen how strange I can act.”

“So that's not the real you?” stammered Ron in shock.

“No. It's a part of me, but not the real me. This is the real me you see before you. The part that belongs in Ravenclaw. The part that comes to the surface often enough when I'm studying and taking exams to keep from getting thrown out of the school. And I suspect that Dumbledore knows something, very little gets past him. He's probably kept several professors from throwing me out of their classes. The worst part about Loony Lovegood is that the real me is still there when I start doing those silly things, but I can't do anything to avoid making a complete idiot of myself. So I know what it's like to be unsure of yourself, not knowing exactly who you are or where you are going.”

Ron glanced up as Luna looked back at him for a moment and looked deep into her eyes. He then watched as a veil seemed to descend over her eyes, they lost their sparkle and intensity to be replaced with a slightly dreamy look.

“Luna!”

“Hello Ron. How are you doing? Does the werewolf bite hurt very much? I bet it itches like crazy. You know, the Quibbler ran an article on itching remedies last month—would you like me to mix one together for you?”

Ron stared at her for a moment and then replied softly. “Yes Luna. I would appreciate that very much.”

“Really? Well let me get to work then!” and she bounced up from the bed and turned towards the door.

“Luna!” he called after her. “Would you mind telling my family and other friends that I'd like to see them if they want to come back?”

“Sure Ron. I'm sure they're very anxious to see you. I would be.”

“And Luna? Thanks. Thanks for everything.” She nodded and skipped out of the room. Ron crawled over to his bed and lay back on his pillow, thinking deeply.

--

A few days later as Ron walked to class with Harry and Hermione, he could smell the fear of the students around him in the halls as they watched him walk by nervously. He glanced over at Harry and asked quietly, “So is this what it was like when everyone thought you were the Heir of Slytherin in second year?”

Harry flashed a glance at Hermione before responding. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“And in fifth year when half the school thought you had gone crazy and might have killed Cedric?”

“Well, that time, people usually tried to avoid being in the same hallway or room altogether. I think some of them thought I might be looking for a new victim,” grimaced Harry.

“And last year, as you got rather short tempered from all the extra training you were doing?” When Harry just nodded, Ron continued. “I never realized how bad you had it Harry. I was such a prat. I'm really sorry Harry.”

“There's no need to apologize Ron. And don't worry, the other students will get used to it.”

“Will they? Or did you just learn to ignore them?” replied Ron.

Harry didn't reply as they reached their classroom and found their seats, many of the students giving the three nervous glances.

-*-*-

After dinner that night, Ron headed to the Quidditch pitch a few minutes before practice was scheduled to start. As he surveyed the field quietly with his broomstick slung casually on his shoulder, his nostrils flared in the evening breeze and he noticed someone sitting in the seats. Eyes narrowed, he recognized the girl and flew over on his broom.

“Hi Luna. What are doing out here?”

“I came out to watch my favorite Quidditch captain.”

Ron blushed and then noticed she was shivering. “Didn't you bring a blanket? It's going to get cold watching the practice.”

“Really?” she replied, looking up at the sky. “Clear night, stars bright, wind light—yeah, I think you're right. It might get chilly tonight. I should have thought of bringing a blanket. I did bring some hot cocoa, though. I put loads of marshmallows in. Do you like them? Would you like some? I mean some cocoa with the marshmallows. Or just the marshmallows if you prefer. I have some of both.”

“No, that's all right. You'll need it if you're going to stay.”

“Oh,” she said in a disappointed tone. Ron looked at her and then raised his wand, praying that it would work. “Accio blanket.” Ron ducked instinctively as a thick comforter with a Gryffindor lion stitched into it flew right at him and then struck Luna in the chest, knocking her over backwards off of her seat.

“Sorry about that, here, let me help you up,” he said as he extended his hand and pulled Luna back up.

“Thank you Ron, that was very thoughtful,” said Luna as she stood up and shook out the quilt to wrap around her. “Are you sure you wouldn't like a cup of cocoa before practice starts?”

Ron looked at her bright, shining eyes and nodded. “On second thought, I think I will. Thank you Luna.”

“No problem. Are you nervous about practice tonight?” she asked as she pulled out a large thermos and unscrewed the lid.

Ron stopped in surprise. “Am I that obvious?”

“Sometimes. But it makes sense that you'd be nervous tonight. I mean, this is the first time you will have to talk to Gabrielle and Draco since you—er, told them off in the infirmary, right?”

“Yeah. I'm not sure what to do.”

“Just tell them you're sorry.”

“And why should I…”

She looked at Ron sternly. “Don't you think they deserve an apology despite everything that happened to you?”

Ron glared at her for a minute before his gaze softened. “Yeah, I reckon they do.”

“Keep it simple, they won't be expecting much of an apology from you,” added Luna helpfully.

“Thanks, Luna,” he muttered.

“You're welcome Ron,” she replied brightly, ignoring his sarcasm.

“Luna, I tried to thank you before, but I don't know if you…”

“I heard. And I remember,” she explained with a small smile.

“Well, I just wanted to thank you again. You gave me a lot to think about the other day. I'm still trying to work out some of the things, but…but I'm glad you said what you did. I think I really needed to hear some of those things.”

Luna leaned forward and laid a hand on Ron's forearm. “I was glad to help Ron. If you ever want to talk about anything else, just let me know. I'd be more than happy to—Oh look! Here comes the rest of the team! You know Ron, you guys are going to do great at the tournament. I've been working on a new Hogwart's banner to take to the first game at Beauxbatons. Would you like to see it? Here, I'll show you,” she chattered excitedly as she unrolled an enormous roll of cloth she had hidden behind the bench.

Ron looked at the animated banner with roaring lions chewing hissing serpents and commented “That's very nice Luna,” as the rest of the team walked over. Hermione and several other Gryffindors sat down by Luna as students from other houses sat in different sections of the stands.

Ron turned around and barked, “All right! Let's get in the air and start running the first set of drills!” He watched with satisfaction as his team mounted their brooms and began flying off. “Malfoy! Delacour! I want a word with the two of you!” He motioned for them to follow him to a part of the pitch away from the other students.

As he glanced at them, he saw Gabrielle looked very nervous and Malfoy appeared defensive. “First of all, I wanted to apologize to the two of you for what I said and for what I tried to do a couple of days ago in the infirmary. I'm sorry.”

Both of them looked at him in complete shock.

“Right then. Gabrielle, what I need you to do before the next practice is work up a list of who you think might make the team for Beauxbatons. And I want you to provide a breakdown for our team of each player's strengths and weaknesses so we can begin working up a few strategies. Malfoy, I need you to go through the flying drills again.”

“What? Trying to find a way to kick me off?”

Ron clenched his teeth trying to control his volatile temper before he replied. “I need to find out how good a flier you really are Malfoy. Not your father, you.”

“Ron!” gasped Gabrielle.

“Stay out of this, Gabrielle,” warned Ron.

Malfoy's face went white with rage as he hissed. “I'll admit that my father was a better flier than I ever was in school. But I haven't forgotten a single thing I learned while I had to watch him try to steal my life. And I can still outfly you Weasel, even if my dad's not the one calling the shots now.”

“Let's see it then,” countered Ron.

He folded his arms across his chest and watched quietly as the two mounted their brooms and flew off. A few minutes later, Ron let a grim smile creep over his face. Apparently Malfoy had learned a thing or two about flying in the past few months. And he knew that if he could set aside his bitter feelings towards Malfoy, maybe his team had added one more weapon to its arsenal for the upcoming Quidditch tournament.

*-*-*

Sunday night, Harry spoke to Ron quietly while their roommates were finishing getting ready for bed. “Listen Ron, Hermione and I have been talking. We can go some other time—I—we don't want to leave you all alone right now, what with everything that has happened.”

“Don't worry Harry. I'll be fine. My family has been great and I've been visiting a lot with Remus. You guys go to France and have fun reading books or whatever. I'll see you Saturday for the match against Beauxbatons.”

“Are you sure Ron?”

“Yeah. I still can't believe Dumbledore is letting the two of you go by yourselves to France. If I could skip school for a week and take a girlfriend I would…”

“Which is why he'd never let you go. Dumbledore knows he can trust us. Besides, it's not like we're going to be sharing a room at some French villa or something Ron. We're staying in separate dorms at the University. Dumbledore already arranged it.”

“Yeah, but I'll bet the doors and the stairs don't keep the boys out of the girls' rooms there Harry. Besides, I'm sure you could break any charms they might have…”

“Go to sleep Ron. We're done talking about this.”

“No, listen Harry. You'll be able to do anything. Nobody would ever know. It's the perfect…”

“Silencio. Good night Ron. I'll try and remember to take off that spell before I leave tomorrow morning.”

*-*-*

Several days later Harry looked back at Hermione as they paused to catch their breath on the steep mountain path. Together, they looked back down the beautiful valley through which tumbled a rocky tributary that joined the River Aude and eventually emptied into the Mediterranean Sea. Several miles back along the path they had been following, they could make out the turreted silhouette of the enormous castle where the University held its classes.

“I still can't believe Dumbledore gave us almost a week here before the match. It's beautiful here isn't it, Mione?”

“Yes it is.”

“Admit it. You're glad I dragged you out of that dusty old archive to see this.”

“Yes, Harry, I'm glad we went for a walk this afternoon—the French countryside is beautiful this time of year. And the picnic lunch was wonderful. But as soon as we get back, I'm going to finish reading the entire Montoli manuscript. And I want you to…”

“I know, I know. But let's just try and enjoy this afternoon, alright?”

Hermione grinned and gave Harry a hug and a peck on the cheek. “You're right,” she whispered happily.

“Of course I am,” laughed Harry as he tugged her along the grassy path. “Do you know where we're going?”

“No. Do you?”

“Of course. One of the other researchers said there were some very interesting ruins about another mile or so away. You know, this area of France is covered with the destroyed castles of the Cathars…”

“The Cathars?”

Harry turned and looked at her in surprise. “You haven't heard of them?”

“Well of course I have. I didn't know that you had Harry,” teased Hermione softly.

“I guess I'm just your average, stereotypical Quidditch player—all brawn and no brains, huh?” joked Harry, faking hurt feelings.

“I'm kidding Harry. I've never thought there was anything ordinary about you,” replied Hermione as she gave him a soft kiss. “But please, continue with the history lesson. I'm very interested in hearing more.”

“Well, this area of France, Languedoc, was a pretty wild place during the Middle Ages. The local leaders gave allegiance to some of the nobility of France and Spain, as well as the Catholic Church. But there were a lot of people with very different ideas as well. One of them, a group of people that disagreed with some of the Catholic Church's teachings, got labeled as heretics. The Catholic Church got very upset with what they were preaching and launched a Crusade against them in what, the fifteenth century?”

“The thirteenth. But go on,” urged Hermione.

“Anyways, a lot of the knights in northern France came south to fight. To the east of here, at Beziers, they laid siege to the entire town. It fell in less than a day and they slaughtered everyone in the city and burned it to the ground. They murdered every single person they found, all twenty thousand of them. They didn't spare anyone—they killed men, women, children, soldiers, peasants, priests, nuns, Catholics and Cathars. One of the leaders was supposed to have said, `Kill them all, God will know his own.'” Harry shuddered as he continued. “When they threatened to do the same thing to the city of Carrcassone, just to the south of here, the townspeople finally surrendered when they ran out of clean water and began dying of disease. They didn't massacre that population, but they took everything they owned and then installed a new viscount over this region, a French knight named Simon de Montfort. He spent the next twenty years or so hunting down and killing every Cathar he could find. Many of the Cathars retreated to mountain fortresses like the one we're going to see. In fact, I believe the University is built on the site of one of their ancient strongholds as well.”

“Very good Harry. Where did you learn all of that?”

“What? Haven't you read Pichateau, A History?”

Hermione just chuckled.

“What I don't fully understand though is why the knights in northern France would do this to their own countrymen? I guess part of it was religious belief, but…I don't know. There must be something more.”

“Well,” began Hermione, “just like any decision, every historical event has multiple factors and causes. For the Albigensenian Crusade of 1209-1239, there were a number of compelling motives for the people of the time. Religion was a primary reason. The Cathars threatened to undermine everything the Catholic church stood for and taught. The Cathars had radically different beliefs about men and women's roles, about chastity and morality, about the need for an earthly church, and about the very concept of good and evil, virtue and vice. Many in the Catholic church sincerely believed that beliefs outside of orthodox Catholicism damned a person's soul to hell and should therefore be eliminated. The idea of religious toleration really didn't exist within the medieval Christian mindset, but that really didn't distinguish it too much from other religious beliefs of the time.

Apart from that, there were tremendous opportunities for the knights that came south. Some of the knights who came south were looking for opportunities to expand their land holdings, to win more land for themselves. Technically, there was no France or Spain at the time, so it's not like they were attacking fellow Frenchmen. Most of medieval Europe was comprised of various kingdoms, not separate nation-states. Actually, the people of Languedoc were culturally and linguistically closer to the people of Spain and the province of Aragon than they were to the French speaking regions to the north.

Some of the knights came for an opportunity to prove themselves on the field of battle and receive honor, recognition, and perhaps more land at home or here in the fields of conquest. Many came for the forty days of service, called a quarantine, which was counted by the Church as service in the war against Infidels and would win for them an extension to pay off debts, a sum of money from the Church and more importantly, an indulgence, a forgiveness of all their sins and a guaranteed place in Heaven.

The pope of the time, Innocent III, used this Crusade to strengthen the power of the church as well. This Crusade was not aimed at retaking the Holy Land from the Muslims, but to purge western Europe of alternative Christian interpretations of faith that challenged the Catholic Church. It also led to the creation of the Inquisition, which would continue to seek out and destroy heresy for centuries afterwards.”

Harry shook his head slowly, sadly. “We just don't seem to learn from our mistakes do we?”

“We're not the only ones, Harry,” agreed Hermione sadly. “Think about the Goblin revolts, the three Dragon wars, the Troll rebellions, and the Dwarven civil wars, not to mention all the…Oh, I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to spoil the afternoon with all this depressingly morbid commentary…”

“It's all right,” explained Harry, “I was just thinking about the Clone wars.”

“The Clone wars?”

“Yeah. You probably haven't heard of them though. They happened in a galaxy far, far away…”

Hermione playfully punched him in the shoulder. “That was a terrible joke, Harry.”

“Ouch,” teased Harry. “Look, let's stop trying to understand and solve all of the world's problems for at least another two hours and just enjoy the beautiful scenery and each other's company.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Potter,” grinned Hermione as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a very pleasant kiss.

*-*-*

The following day, Harry pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “How can you just sit there and read for hours without moving?” he asked casually as he stretched his cramped back muscles. “Mione,” he added in a louder voice.

“Did you find something Harry?”

“No, I was just—never mind.”

“Hmm,” was her only response as she carefully unrolled a new scroll to study.

Harry stretched again and felt several of his vertebrate pop back into place and stared in frustration through the window of the small reading room where he could see shelf after shelf of carefully protected scrolls, manuscripts, and books. The chief librarian had initially resisted allowing them access at all to any of the records even with Dumbledore's written recommendation. After a long, and rather heated discussion with Hermione, he had finally relented and allowed them access to the holdings of the French University. Since then, even the archivist had been deeply impressed by Hermione's work ethic. With the exception of the one afternoon Harry had insisted they take off to go hiking, they had been in the reading room every day for a week. Even Harry was amazed at the amount of material they had been able to read.

*-*-*

Thursday night, Harry led Hermione to a popular café in a small wizarding village close to the University that one of the other researchers had recommended. It was full of students and animated discussion. Midway through an entrée of cheese and some delicious fish that Harry couldn't identify, Hermione informed him that the University had invited them to attend one of the University DADA classes the following afternoon.

“I don't know Mione, I really don't want to have to say anything or…”

“We're just going as regular students to listen to the lecture. One of the administrators will attend with us but it's not like they're going to make you get up in front and teach the class or anything, Harry. We'll just go and listen to the professor teach—it should be very interesting. Besides, we've seen nearly everything that's related to Atlantis here in the archives—we should be done by early afternoon tomorrow.”

“And you thought the best way to take a break before the Quidditch match on Saturday would be to attend a class at a school we don't even attend? What would Ron say?”

“He wouldn't say much if he could eat at this place. The food here is simply superb.”

“I can't argue with that,” replied Harry as he reached for another roll.

*-*-*

Harry and Hermione took a seat with one of the administrators in the rear of a large auditorium. A thin, waspish professor with a narrow, pinched face looked sternly at the class. As he began speaking, Hermione translated for Harry telepathically.

“The papers on the theory of Harmonial Defense were so abysmal that I stopped reading after the fifth paper and tossed them all in the trash. If you would like a grade, you will give me a complete rewrite by Monday.”

Angry murmurs buzzed in the large room as he glared dismissively at the students. “I hope you have finished the reading for today. And I hope your papers on the underlying theories of sensory alteration due today are much better. Now who can explain for me Briggle's ideas about how the Focusing charm alters how the mind interprets visual images?

Half an hour later, after the professor had finished brushing off yet another student's response as inaccurate and poorly reasoned, a student raised his hand cautiously.

Before the student spoke, Harry whispered to Hermione, “I didn't know the French had a nastier version of Snape.”

Hermione shot him a glare but did not contradict him.

“Yes Mr. Johnson?” sneered the professor.

“Well Professor Chenalt, we've discussed the different ways in which the charm can enhance one's senses to see or hear more clearly or at a distance, but is there a way to reverse the charm?”

“Reverse the charm? What do you mean?”

“Well if someone could enhance one's sight with this charm, couldn't one also blind someone using a variation of the charm?”

“Ah, Mr. Johnson. I was waiting for a comment from one of our pugilistic friends from across the ocean. Really, is that all you Americans ever think about? How to attack with spells?”

“Actually, I was more concerned with being able to counter this charm if someone was trying to blind me with it.”

“It's more likely they would try and silence your wagging tongue, Mr. Johnson,” quipped the professor, to the laughter of many students in the room. “Do not worry, theoretically, it is impossible for this charm to be used in such a way as to harm someone.”

“Actually sir, I believe you could,” announced a voice from the far back. Harry shook his head in disbelief and chuckled quietly as Hermione continued. “Simply increasing the amount of either the visual or auditory sensory input would be enough to cause tremendous physical pain, possibly insanity. Freidrich Buehler and Elena Rodriguez have both pointed out that by increasing the…” Students in the audience were craning their necks to see who was boldly contradicting the professor.

“And you are…”

“I'm Hermione Granger, sir.”

“I don't recall having a student enrolled in my class with your name, Miss.”

“I'm not enrolled in the University. I'm a student at Hogwarts. I'm here on a research trip visiting your wonderful archives and…”

“Then perhaps you should stay in the archives and quit wasting our precious time here in my classroom. I am well aware of the theories of both Buehler and Rodriguez, neither of which apply to this case.”

“But their research has been critical to increasing our understanding of how the Unforgivable Curses like the Cruciatus curse work and some of the latest research shows promising leads to discovering effective countercurses and defensive spells against them,” insisted Hermione.

“And I just stated that they don't apply to the Focusing charm we are studying today. In fact, Pierre de la Carre's research indicates that their assumptions are way off and unworkable. And my own study of the problem proves that theoretically, their work is inconsistent. For example, their inclusion of what Muggles call science is laughable. And their attempt to incorporate so called Muggle knowledge to explain magic is not only incomprehensible, it is simply wrong. Only a Muggleborn witch like Rodriguez would even care what the Muggles would have to say about anything. And we all know that Mudbloods never fully understand the world of magic as well as purebloods.” The professor smiled slightly as a number of students chuckled at his remarks.

Hermione's voice grew slightly louder. “I don't see what difference it makes in Rodriguez' work whether or not she was Muggleborn. And I have read some of de la Carre's research, but I thought most researchers had written off his work years ago as severely biased and poorly reasoned. I have also read several of your articles in Magical Theory and Structure, but I didn't realize you had published anything recently. Your last article was in 1968, but I don't believe it had anything to do with what you are discussing today.”

Even from the distance at which they were seated from the professor, Hermione and Harry could see the veins bulge in his neck as his face reddened with fury. “For your information, you misguided little know it all, I studied for years with de la Carre, and he was one of the brightest theorists and philosophers of magic France has ever produced. And not that it's any of your business, but I have several articles that will be published shortly. Now if you are done wasting the time of my class on your poorly reasoned and clueless guesses about the nature of magic, something I have been studying since before your parents were born, I will continue.

As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, it is theoretically impossible for the charm to be altered in such a way as to hurt someone. Even if it were theoretically possible—which it is not—the spellcaster would have to invest a ridiculous amount of energy in the spell in order to amplify the strength of the spell to harmful levels, as suggested by the helpful little girl in the back. Therefore, even if it were theoretically possible for a wizard to do that, it would take so much power that nobody would be able to cast it. Besides nobody would be interested in such a spell except our young, overly aggressive friend from the United States.”

“What about Dark Wizards?” asked Hermione loudly.

“Do not interrupt my class again, little girl, or I will throw you out myself. There's no such thing as a truly Dark Wizard. These so-called Dark Wizards that you sometimes read about in the papers are all too often misrepresented, misunderstood, and are actually slightly misguided heroes simply trying to address legitimate grievances. The ministries of magic like to use them to gain political and economic power and to justify their continued existence and their use of coercive power over the wizarding world. And of course the papers like them because they sell papers. But believe me when I tell you that the ministries of magic are much more dangerous than any so called Dark Wizard.

For example, look at the so-called Second War against Lord Voldemort that took place last spring in Great Britain. Lord Voldemort and his supporters, conveniently labeled `Death Eaters' by the British papers to make them appear more sinister, had legitimate complaints with the British Ministry of Magic. Since they were conveniently excluded from the so-called legal and legitimate process, they tried to resolve those issues the only way they could and launched a campaign of resistance and liberation. And look at the tremendous cost during the final battle—the blood of hundreds of creatures was spilt for the greater good and glory of the British Ministry of Magic. Hundreds of Dementors, endangered wolves, trolls, and nearly fifty rare giants were brutally slaughtered that day, as well as scores of wizards and witches loyal to Lord Voldemort's cause. They probably would have slaughtered the dragons as well, if they hadn't switched sides at the last minute. From what I understand, the field where they fought was devastated—the Ministry carelessly used such powerful magic that they destroyed the land for acres around the field of combat. Poor Lord Voldemort and his followers were lured into a treacherous ambush by the deceptive Ministry. They didn't try talking to them, they didn't try to understand things from their perspective, they simply attacked them. What a tragic waste.”

“If you believe a single word of any of that rubbish you just dumped on us, you're stupider than you look,” announced a cold, angry voice from the back of the room.

“What?! What was that?!”

“Mione, could you help me out here?” asked Harry, his temper rising. Harry then repeated himself in fluent French.

His face livid, Professor Chenalt looked up in rage. “I thought I told you to keep…”

Harry stood, barely controlling his anger. “She didn't say anything. I did. And I'm telling you that not one of those things you just said has any resemblance to the truth. Voldemort and his Death Eaters weren't some sort of noble freedom fighters or valiant crusaders for some worthy cause. They were murderers, thugs, and terrorists. And the only thing they wanted was to destroy the world and remake it in their image by killing everyone who opposed them. You can't negotiate or reason with evil like Voldemort—you fight it and destroy it if you can.”

“Let me guess, you're a classmate of the girl from Hogwarts here to enlighten us.” Mockingly, he looked upward and said, “Heaven save us from the British,” which earned a number of laughs.

“Well, somebody has to help the French because everyone knows the French can't save themselves,” muttered someone in the crowd to a few chuckles.

Chenalt glared at Johnson, who simply shrugged his shoulders as if he had no idea who had said that, before staring angrily at Harry. “Enough! And you! I don't know who you think you are, insulting me in my own class. How dare you? Don't they teach you any manners at Hogwarts?”

“They teach me how to use magic, they don't waste my time on this theoretical and philosophical nonsense you've been blathering on about all afternoon. And they don't waste my time with their own shortsighted political biases, their insane conspiracy theories, or their idiotic prejudices.”

“Ahh, they teach you how to use magic at a magic school. How refreshing. Tell you what, why don't you come down here and demonstrate your little friend's theory for the entire class. Come on down to the front and cast the Focusing charm on me. See if you can cause me any harm, as your friend suggested was possible.”

The administrator spoke out, “Professor Chenalt, I don't think that would be a good…”

“This is my class. Do not worry, nothing will happen. But I think our two young visitors need a lesson in respect—something they obviously haven't learned at Hogwarts. Come on young man, don't be shy—you weren't before. I'll even tell you the incantatation—Sensoris altus. Come now, do your best.”

Harry slowly walked down the stairs to stand before the arrogant professor. He pushed his long blonde hair out of his eyes and his blue eyes met those of the professor. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Haven't lost your nerve, have you boy? Go on then, don't keep wasting my time.”

Harry drew his wand and aimed it slowly at the thin professor. “Sensoris altus.”

The professor's eyes went wide in surprise. “You managed to cast it,” he whispered in surprise.

“I told you they taught me how to cast magic at Hogwarts. I learned with Albus Dumbledore and some of the greatest wizards and witches in the world. We can stop your little experiment now if you want. Before you get hurt.”

“Do your worst, boy. An adult wizard would have great difficult summoning the power to make this spell dangerous. I seriously doubt that you will be able to…”

“Altus auditorium,” spoke Harry clearly as he rotated his wand clockwise. The professor fell to his knees, clapping his hands over his ears and screamed. Harry immediately snapped his wand upwards to aim it at the ceiling and whispered, “Finite Incantatum.” Chenalt stayed on his knees, his hands resting on the floor, drawing in deep gulps of air. He looked up at Harry with fear and pain in his eyes. “How did you…how could you…that shouldn't have been possible.”

Harry looked at him for a moment, then walked over to the table that stood in front of the classroom as Chenalt unsteadily rose to his feet. Harry removed his disguised features he had adapted with his metamorphmagus abilities and allowed his regular features to return. There were gasps among the students as they recognized the messy black hair and the scar on the forehead above his glasses.

“You…you're Harry Potter.”

Harry's cold glance swept over the auditorium filled with students before resting on the cowering professor. “Before I leave today, I'd like to set the record straight on the Second War with Voldemort. You're supposed to educate, but all you do is spread your own misunderstandings and biases. You think we should have talked to Voldemort and his followers? You think they were fighting for some noble purpose or goal? Let me show you what they were like. Let me show you what the Second War was like.” Pointing his wand at a thick textbook, Harry said quietly “Formus Pensieve.” With a wide waving motion, he cast a second spell at the entire audience. “Sensoris altus.” Then he pointed his wand at his head, and pulled out several silver strands which he then placed in the large Pensieve he had transfigured. Then he touched the shimmering surface with his wandtip and then waved it around him in a complete circle. Immediately the classroom took on the appearance of a graveyard as Harry replayed scenes from the rebirth of Voldemort. Screams of terror and horror burst out throughout the room. Then he showed them several of his discussions and battles with Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries and at the Black Mansion. Gasps and sobs echoed in the room. Then in the center of the room appeared a young black robed figure flying on a broomstick over green fields. The crowd watched as he landed in a large, gently sloping field with a large lake, a heavily wooded forest, and a sheer cliff off in the distance. The students then gasped in fear as the first Death Eaters arrived and threatened Harry. Then there were more screams and shouts of terror as Lord Voldemort himself appeared. As the final battle commenced in earnest, there were more shouts of terror and fear. Harry let them experience the full horror and fear of the final battle as he had witnessed it, except the final death of Voldemort himself when his parents and Sirius appeared—that was too personal. At the end, he let them feel some of his own weariness and exhaustion and despair for fallen friends when the battle was finally over before announcing Finite Incantatum. He looked around the room at many of the students who sat shocked in disbelief, with tears streaming down their faces, and many of them shaking quietly in their seats. Finally he turned towards the professor who leaned exhaustedly against the table, his head held in his hands with his shoulders shaking.

“That is what we experienced in Great Britain last spring. Voldemort was a terror that had to be stopped. Part of the reason it was so horrible was because the Ministry of Magic refused to accept the reality of Voldemort's return. They preferred to believe he remained dead and defeated. By ignoring the threat, Voldemort nearly gained enough power to defeat us that day. And if he had won that day, he wouldn't have stopped with conquering Great Britain. If you still believe that you can reason or negotiate with evil like Voldemort or Dark Wizards like him, then there is nothing more I can do to help enlighten you.” With a final glance at the quivering professor, Harry added, “Here endeth the lesson.” He then walked back up the steps and joined Hermione in walking out of the classroom without looking back.

*-*-*

“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I cannot find words strong enough to apologize for the behavior of Professor Chenalt today…I am truly sorry for his remarks and can only hope that…”

“Don't worry about it,” urged Hermione. “Let's just try and enjoy our dinner tonight.” She, Harry, and the apologetic administrator were sharing dinner at the same café Harry and Hermione had eaten at the night before. Harry leaned back in the booth and looked over the table at the crowd of witches and wizards without saying anything. Nearly every table was taken, and more students were crowding in along the bar.

As Hermione reached for a piece of bread to go with her salad she heard Harry's tense voice inside her head. “Mione, get your wand out now.”

“What's wrong Harry?” she asked as she reached inside her bag for her wand.

“Somebody just put up an anti-Apparation ward. We've got to go.”

Harry stood up, glancing around the crowded restaurant and extended his hand to Hermione. Hermione quickly stood beside him, wand out and ready, looking around anxiously and squeezing Harry's hand nervously.

“Follow me,” he ordered and headed towards the nearest exit.

“Please stop your search for Atlantis.”

Harry and Hermione froze and in shock turned back to the university representative. Again he spoke in an odd tone. “Please stop your search for Atlantis.”

Harry watched him for a moment and then looked around the restaurant to try and determine if anyone else was involved while Hermione replied.

“I don't know what you're talking about. As Professor Dumbledore explained, we were just here doing some research for…”

“Please stop your search for Atlantis. The prophecy must not be fulfilled. Please give me your oath that you will not pursue it further and you may live.”

“Who the hell do you think you are threatening us?” replied Harry in a low, angry voice.

“What prophecy?” asked Hermione. “Tell us.”

The man seemed confused for a moment before looking at Hermione. “Give me your oath and I will give you your life,” he repeated.

Harry's eyes snapped around as he realized the background noise in the restaurant had dropped considerably.

“I cannot give you my oath. Someone is seeking these artifacts to do great harm to the world. We have to stop them by finding them first. You can help us by telling us about the prophecy.”

The man was getting agitated and the room had fallen completely silent. “Give me your oath,” he demanded.

“I will not,” declared Hermione, clutching her wand tightly.

“Then you must die,” he replied and raised his wand. The wand shot out of his hand before he could even begin a spell as Harry disarmed him easily and grabbed Hermione's shoulder.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” He turned again towards the exit and his mouth dropped open in surprise to see nearly a dozen students blocking their way and moving slowly towards them. He then attempted to teleport them out of the restaurant only to realize that an anti-teleportation spell had been cast as well. The wandless administrator leaped forward, his hands reaching for Hermione's neck as Harry's fist shot out. There was a nasty crack as his nose broke and then he dropped to the floor unconscious. With a flick of his wrist, Harry's wand appeared in his hand and he turned to face the crowd moving slowly towards them again, cursing under his breath.

“Don't hurt them Harry.”

“What?”

“I think they're being controlled.”

“Like the Imperious curse?”

“Something like that.”

“Can you find the spellcasters casting the anti-Apparation wards and distract them long enough for us to escape?”

“I'll try.”

Harry stepped in front of Hermione and waved his wand in several crisp motions while he shouted out several spells. “Rictosempera! Tarantatellegra! Duermaias!” The closest ten students began laughing hysterically, dancing in place, or fell to the ground, sound asleep.

“Tickling charms? A Jelly-legs jinx? laughed Hermione. “And a sleeping charm? You're an elemental mage and you're using 2^nd year spells?”

While he continued to cast spells, he replied sarcastically. “You said not to hurt them. It's the best I could come up with Mione. Most of the spells I've studied were to beat Voldie and his Death Munchers. I must have missed the book on Killing your Enemies with Kindness. And Hunt sure hasn't emphasized many friendly spells. So unless you've got a better idea, let me deal with these mindless morons my way and you just worry about…”

“What about a Banishing Barrier to keep them away from…”

She didn't finish her thought as Harry tackled her as a green light flashed over the two. “Expelliarmus!” roared Harry at the wizard who had cast the spell. He saw two more wizards with their wands out and disarmed them quickly and then waved his arms to raise a shield that would prevent the students from getting close enough to physically attack either one of them.

“Have you found them yet?”

“I'm looking, I'm looking…” replied Hermione.

“We're running out of time and we're heavily outnumbered here Mione. One of them is bound to get off a lucky spell before I disarm all of them unless we find…”

“There he is! The one in the red cap by the door.”

“Just one?”

“Yes! Now…”

“Petrifucus Totalus!” yelled Harry at the wizard across the room. The wizard ducked and ran out the front door.

“Will you be all right for a moment?” asked Harry.

“I'll be fine. Just go get him. I'll cover you.”

Harry sprinted for the door as Hermione cast spells that knocked down the students closest to his path but there were too many between him and the door where the wizard had escaped. He sent a quick thought to Hermione and then turned to his left sharply, avoiding half a dozen hands that were reaching for him and knocking aside two wands that were aimed at him. Hermione tripped up three students between him and the booth that had a window as Harry raised his wand and yelled “Reducto!” as he sprinted forward. At full speed, he jumped onto the bench and then the table as if they were steps and then dove headfirst through the shattering window as glass shards exploded outwards. He tucked his body in midair and rolled easily over his shoulder and came up running in the direction the wizard had taken. To his surprise, the wizard had stopped right outside the door as if waiting for Harry to appear.

“Do not raise the Dark Queen!” hissed the man and then disappeared with a loud crack as Harry aimed his wand to launch a particularly nasty spell.

“Hermione! Are you OK?” screamed Harry as he sprinted back towards the front door of the restaurant.

“I'm fine Harry.”

“Why didn't you Apparate away?”

Everyone in here is back to normal, though they're very confused. Did you catch him?”

“No. He Apparated away before I could catch him.”

Harry ran back through the front doors of the restaurant and the groups of people staring oddly at each other. He found Hermione helping the heavily bleeding administrator back to his seat and put some ice in a napkin on his nose.

“Uhh, that was a nasty fall you had there,” offered Harry.

Hermione glanced at him and rolled her eyes and then gasped. “What happened to your face, you're bleeding. And your shoulder, too. Are you…”

“I'm fine. It's just a few scratches—no big deal. I can take care of these.”

Hermione looked at him skeptically.

“Well, Hunt got tired of listening to Pomfrey's lectures on safe educational practices and insisted that I pass a basic FAFAFA course in addition to my other training.”

At Hermione's puzzled expression he explained with a slight smile. “First Aid For Auror Field Agents.”

“I'm sure Pomfrey will be delighted to hear that now you're treating yourself for your school related injuries Harry,” replied Hermione sarcastically.

Harry's smile faded. “Mione, how could one wizard have cast that many Imperious curses while maintaining both the anti-Apparation and anti-teleportation wards? I've never heard of anything like that. And if he was powerful enough to do that, why didn't he just attack us himself?”

“I don't know Harry. But I don't think it was the Imperious curse. If it was, they would still be trying to kill us. I think it was some variation of the spell.”

“I still don't understand how a wizard could have cast that many spells simultaneously. Not even Dumbledore could…”

“He wasn't a wizard Harry.”

“What? But I saw…”

“What you saw was a house-elf Harry.”

“A what? Are you sure? But how could a house-elf do all that?”

“Do you have any idea how powerful house-elves are?”

“Not really. I've seen Dobby cast a few spells without a wand, but I haven't thought about it too much. When Dobby assured me that they could maintain the anti-Apparition wards during the final battle against Voldemort, I tested him to make sure but I really have no idea how much magical power they have.”

“I don't think anybody knows for sure Harry because I doubt anybody has ever paid that much attention to house-elves. When we get back to Hogwarts I want to have a little chat with Dobby.”

“Yeah, I think I'll join you Mione. Right now, I think it's time for us to go. I'm afraid we've worn out our welcome here. Are you all packed?”

“Of course.”

“Good, let me grab my things and we'll get out of here.”

“Shouldn't we notify somebody and…”

“And tell them what? That somebody set their house-elf on us? From what Hunt has told me about hunting Dark Wizards in France, the last thing we want to do is get stuck in the middle of one of their Auror investigations. And it's not like they have anything to work with here—all they've got is a broken nose and a shattered window. Besides, I'll bet we're the only ones who remember anything.”

“But Harry…”

“But nothing. Somebody wants us dead here and is willing and able to sacrifice dozens of innocent people to do it. We'll go back to my home outside of Hogsmeade for the night and then go to Beauxbatons for the Quidditch match tomorrow morning. You take the master bedroom and I'll crash in one of the guest rooms. But first I think we should have our little chat with Dobby.”

Hermione nodded her agreement, grabbed his shoulder and they disappeared.

*-*-*

Next: Hogwarts vs. Beauxbatons

-->

Ch 31 Catching Snitches and Helping Witches

Saturday morning was bright and crisp. Standing outside the changing rooms, Harry gazed over the field as the breeze tussled his hair.

“Looks like a big crowd today,” commented Harry.

“I imagine they added some additional stands for everyone that wanted to attend,” explained Hermione.

“Shouldn't you go get a good seat before they're all gone?” asked Harry.

“I have a seat reserved on the second deck right by the rail with an excellent view of the pitch. I must admit, being Head Girl does come with a few perks.”

“I didn't know Head Girls got reserved seating at Quidditch matches,” observed Ron.

“They do when their boyfriends play on the Quidditch team,” laughed Hermione. “Good luck Ron,” and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey!” protested Harry. “What about mmmmmm…” he struggled to finish as Hermione gave him a slightly friendlier kiss.

“Hem, hem!” grunted Ginny as she emerged from the changing room. “Get a broom closet you two!”

Both Harry and Hermione ignored her as they finished their kiss.

“Good luck Harry,” smiled Hermione as she turned and headed for the stands.

Harry raised his hand and gave a half wave as she walked away, his eyes still unfocused.

“Harry. HARRY!” shouted Ron.

“Huh?! What? Oh, hello there Ron. What do you need?”

Rolling his eyes at his giggling sister, Ron continued, “We have a Quidditch match to play today, remember? Against Beauxbatons?”

“Quidditch? Oh yeah, right, right. Let's go then,” and Harry started walking towards the field. Ron looked at his sister and with a nod of his head indicated she should follow him. “Try to remind him that he's here to catch the snitch. Tell him that it's the small golden ball with wings. And keep him away from Hermione,” he growled. “I need him focusing on the game today.”

Ginny bowed sarcastically. “Your wish is my command oh great Quidditch master.” She then stuck her tongue out at Ron and turned to follow Harry.

Ron returned to the changing room to make sure the rest of the team was ready, muttering grumpily about girlfriends causing distractions for his team. A few minutes later he led them out to the pitch where the Beauxbatons team and the referee were waiting.

“I want a clean game. Limit the physical contact and there won't be any problems. Now everyone shake hands and we'll get started,” instructed the referee.

After the teams had shaken hands, Harry looked at Ron, who appeared somewhat odd. “You OK there mate? You look a little off,” asked Harry.

“I'm fine. Let's go.”

At the referee's whistle both teams flew into the air and took their respective positions. Harry soared high above the pitch, searching hard for a gleam of gold that would reveal where the Snitch was flying. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the opposing Seeker hovering nearby, marking him. “That's fine. Just sit and watch me catch the Snitch,” he thought with amusement.

Forty-five minutes into the match, Hogwarts had a solid ninety point lead. Their Chasers were far superior to those of Beauxbatons and Ron had made over a dozen spectacular saves. But Harry had still not seen one glimpse of the ever elusive Snitch. Suddenly, he noticed one of the Beauxbatons Chasers flying nearby him.

“Potter, you don't really want to make us feel bad by catching the Snitch yourself, do you? Wouldn't it be more honorable to let Noelle over there catch it? Wouldn't that be what a hero like yourself would do?”

Startled that she was talking to him, Harry looked at her more closely. For a moment he even thought she was right. It was awfully boorish of him to always try and win everything, to be the best at everything. Why shouldn't he let Noelle catch the Snitch—she seemed like a very nice girl after all—in fact, maybe he could help her find it. Then he recognized the subtle magic behind those suggestions and he was grateful that Ron had insisted they all take anti-Glamour potions before the match. Ron and Gabrielle were right in predicting that Beauxbatons would try to take advantage of the veela they had on their team.

“Siren Formation!” shouted out Harry as loud as he could to warn the rest of his teammates that they were using their veela powers and to focus on resisting their suggestions.

Several minutes later, still trying to ignore the constant chatter of the Chaser, he spied a glint of gold on the far edge of the field, Harry dove towards it with the Beauxbatons Chaser and Seeker right behind him. The Chaser was talking to him the entire time, urging him to let Noelle catch it first. Harry tried to tune her out, but her voice continued to grate on his nerves as he easily dodged two bludgers that came near him. He was gaining on the Snitch, it was zigzagging about forty feet in front of him and he knew the two behind him would never catch him in time. Thirty, twenty, ten, five—he stretched his hand forward and nearly fell from his broom as a shrill, piercing scream exploded in his ears and sent shivers down his spine, causing his entire body to jerk backward awkwardly. When the scream died away, he opened his eyes, breathing heavily and looked around for the Snitch but it was long gone.

Angrily he turned his broom around and shouted at the veela Chaser behind him. “Knock it off you nasty little harpy! Now keep your mouth shut or…”

“Penalty on the Hogwarts Seeker!” shouted the referee from below Harry.

“What?!” yelled Harry. “Why?!”

“Do not threaten another player or I will eject you from the game. I will not tolerate it!”

“They're cheating! They're using their veela powers to try and gain an advantage!”

“Can you prove they are using veela powers?”

“Uhh, no. But she just used some kind of scream that nearly knocked me from my broom! Surely you heard that?”

“She screamed because she was nearly hit by a bludger. Another word from you and I will award Beauxbaton's another penalty throw. Frankly, I'm shocked—I heard you were an excellent Seeker, not a whiny, overhyped…”

Harry did not hear the rest of the referee's remarks because he flew off in anger to watch the penalty shot. He noticed the Chaser that had been following him chat briefly with the Chaser who had just had her shot blocked by Ron before the whistle blew again indicating that play should continue.

As Harry started searching for the Snitch again, he noticed that only the Seeker was following him now. As he soared over the field, he heard the announcer call out two quick goals for Beauxbatons. He glanced quickly at Ron, but instead of looking angry, he had a dreamy sort of smile on his face. He watched briefly as Ginny and the other Chasers attacked the goals downfield and he flew quickly to Ron's side. The Hogwarts Chasers scored, but then Beauxbaton's Chasers streaked back downfield. Harry watched as Ron drifted lazily in front of the goals, apparently unconcerned by the approaching Chasers. He made a feeble attempt to block the goal, but did not appear too upset about his failure.

Harry swooped down as Ginny recovered the Quaffle and led the charge back downfield. “What's the matter Ron? It's not like you to let in goals that easily. Ron? RON!”

“Oh, hi there Harry? Aren't they beautiful? It would be a shame to watch them lose today. You know, we don't always have to win everything. Besides, it's just a silly game.”

“Ron! Wake up! What's the matter with you?!” he shouted uselessly.

“Mione! Something's wrong with Ron. I don't think the anti-Glamour potion is working.”

“Are you sure?”

“He doesn't care whether we win or not. He said it was only a silly game.”

“Ohh, there's definitely something wrong with him then.”

“But why isn't the potion working?”

“Did they alter Ron's potion? Did they factor in the fact that he's a werewolf? You need to add more dogwood root to his potion to compensate for…”

“I doubt it.”

“Well, I could brew up another potion if you have any left. It would only take an hour or so.”

“We don't have an hour, Mione. Thanks though.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don't know. I'll think of something.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“Ron! We need to call a time out!”

“Why?”

“We need to replace you as the Keeper. You're not feeling well enough to keep playing.”

“I'm fine Harry,” insisted Ron. “Now go help Noelle find the Snitch.”

“TIME OUT!” shouted Harry.

“Penalty to the Hogwarts Seeker!”

“What?!”

“Only the captain may call a time out. Take your shot,” instructed the referee.

Swearing under his breath, Harry floated over to one of the Hogwarts Beaters. “Give me your club,” whispered Harry.

“What?!” came the startled response.

“I said give me your club. You're going to be the Seeker for the next two minutes. Your only job is to make sure that their Seeker does not catch the Snitch. Got it?”

“Uh, yeah Harry. I got it.”

“Good. Now give me the club.”

A very grim-faced Harry easily followed the other Chasers and Beaters in pursuit of the Quaffle. Harry watched the Bludgers carefully, sending several at the Beauxbatons Chasers when he had the chance. As play returned to the Hogwarts goal, Harry waited patiently for his opportunity. As the Chaser lined up her shot, everyone's attention was focused on the Quaffle she sent soaring towards the right goal. Harry drifted slightly to his right and swung hard. The Bludger shot forward and struck Ron right in the stomach, knocking him backwards off of his broom, and through the hoop before he fell to the ground.

Several of the players looked back at Harry, who simply shrugged and replied, “Whoops.”

The referee, too, looked at him oddly before calling out, “Penalty on Hogwarts Seeker, err, Beater, uhh, penalty on Harry Potter!”

“What?!” exclaimed Harry.

“Illegal substitution. I was not properly notified that you would be switching places with…”

“Who cares? That's not a rule!” Harry turned towards his teammates. “Is it?”

Ginny shook her head and replied. “It's not at Hogwarts. But it is in international competition.” Then in a louder voice she added, “Though it would have been nice of you to notify us before the match which set of regulations you were going to be using.”

“That's enough! I will not have my judgment called into question. Another penalty shot for Beauxbatons!” roared the referee.

“You can't do that!” yelled Harry. Ginny tried to float closer and help calm him down.

“Harry! Calm down before you get yourself tossed out of the…”

“You can't just start deciding what set of rules you're going to use in the middle of a match. You haven't called one penalty on Beauxbatons for the illegal formations they've been using or for the Chaser who was playing Seeker position earlier. Wasn't that an illegal substitution, you lousy, biased, hypocritical…”

“THAT'S ENOUGH!” roared the referee. “I will not be treated like this or have my integrity questioned. Potter, you're out!” he screamed, jerking his thumb up and away from his body violently.

The crowd was silent for a moment before a number of cheers erupted from the Beauxbatons section.

Harry snapped his mouth shut in anger and descended to the pitch as the team followed him down. The referee's voice boomed from above. “You have two minutes to revive your Keeper and replace your Seeker. Then Beauxbatons will take their three penalty shots.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest when Ginny cut him off. “Shut it Potter. They've already got three free shots. No sense giving them any more.”

His eyes smoldering, Harry turned to the bench on the side of the field and yelled. “Stenton! You're in for Weasley. Malfoy! You're in for me.” He then turned to the rest of the team as the two jogged in.

“What about Ron?” asked Ginny. “We might be able to wake him up.”

“I wouldn't do that unless you want to lose. Because he's a werewolf, the anti-Glamour potion didn't work the way it is supposed to—he doesn't have any defense right now against their charms. The veela convinced him to let those goals go through.”

“You hit him on purpose?” asked Ginny.

“Uhh, yeah. And I stunned him right before he hit the ground to make sure he didn't wake up any time soon.”

“That's cold Potter,” smirked Malfoy. “Tsk, tsk. To do that to your best friend just to win a game.”

Harry glared at him and then Malfoy added with a smile. “I wish I could have done that and gotten away with it.”

“Like Snape ever punished you for anything you did Ferret boy. Besides, I softened his landing before he hit. And Ron would have done the same to me, I mean for me, if the situation was reversed. He wouldn't want to be the reason we lost the game today.”

Malfoy just shook his head and laughed. “Sometimes I wonder if it's more dangerous being your friend than it is being your enemy Potter.”

“Enough you two,” snapped Ginny. “Fascinating as it is to watch you two swap cutting remarks with each other, we don't have time right now for one of your half-witted verbal battles.”

She ignored both glares from the two young men and folded her arms impatiently.

Harry spoke first. “Fine. Ginny, you run the show and call the plays. Stenton, you'll be fine. Don't worry about these penalty shots—we still have a fifty point lead. Just play loose like at practice. Gin, take `em up.” Ginny nodded and led the others back up into the air.

“Malfoy!” called Harry. “Just remember that you're not flying against me up there and you should be able to catch the Snitch first.”

“Sod off Potter. Is that your idea of a motivational speech? If it is, it needs a lot of work.”

“Come here, there's one more thing. This will prevent one of the veela from using their at nasty little scream on you. Don't worry, I'll take it off when you catch the Snitch.” Before Malfoy could protest, Harry clapped his hands over his ears and muttered “Sordium.”

There was a brief expression of panic on Malfoy's face and then he shouted, “I can't hear anything Potter!”

Harry smiled and replied, “That's the point.” Then he jerked his thumb upward, indicating that Malfoy needed to get in the air. After muttering several colorful phrases in Harry's direction, Malfoy mounted his broom and soared upward.

Harry pulled out his wand and levitated Ron's limp body to the sideline by the bench where Hermione was waiting.

“You know, I'm never going to understand why you all take this game so seriously.”

“Some things just aren't meant to be understood Mione. Some things just are what they are,” explained Harry philosophically as he sat down on the bench.

“What's that supposed to mean? That doesn't make any sense.”

“Shush. I'm trying to watch the game.”

Harry held back a snicker as he realized Madame Pomfrey was having difficulty removing the stunning spell he had put on Ron and returned his focus to the game. Without the advantage of the veela charms, Beauxbatons struggled to keep pace with Hogwarts. Ginny and the other Chasers were much faster than their opponents, the Hogwarts Beaters were far superior, and though Stenton was not as good as Ron, she was solid and dependable. The only reason the game was still close, in fact, the only reason Beauxbatons was winning was because of the extraordinarily high number of penalty shots they had been awarded. An hour and a half later, down by thirty points, Hogwarts managed to win when Malfoy caught the Snitch after making a spectacular dive in front of the opposing Seeker.

Harry was the first one on the field, cheering for the Hogwarts victory with the rest of the students joining him within moments to congratulate their team.

Sunday afternoon, Harry was relaxing in the Gryffindor common room, listening with amusement as Ron recounted in avid detail every single play of the Hogwarts-Beauxbatons match to a huge crowd of Gryffindors. Even though most of them had been there, had actually seen more of the game than Ron, and the story Ron was telling was slightly more dramatic than the actual game itself, nobody seemed to mind.

A familiar shape plopped down next to him in the couch and whispered, “Wow Harry. I didn't realize that Ron had defeated two Hungarian Horntails and half a dozen Death Eaters while he was guarding the goals yesterday before that freak meteor shower hit and knocked him out of the sky. I must have missed that part.”

Chuckling, Harry replied. “He's not exaggerating that much.”

“Not yet. By the way, McGonagall told me after lunch that Dumbledore wanted to talk to us sometime this afternoon.”

“When?”

“Whenever we felt like stopping by.”

“Well, let's go then. I already know how the match ends.”

The two left the Common Room and walked to Dumbledore's office. Hermione let Harry make a few wild guesses about the password before saying “Toscane.”

Harry turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow as the spiral staircase appeared as Hermione explained.

“It's a delicious French chocolate with a raspberry filling. Expensive but sooo worth it.”

Harry complained, “If you already knew the password, why didn't you just say it?”

“Now Harry, where's the fun in that?”

Harry snorted as he followed her up the stairs towards Dumbledore's office.

“Sit down Harry, Hermione. Please, make yourselves at home. Would you care for a lemon drop or a biscuit perhaps?” asked Dumbledore good naturedly. Harry snatched several biscuits as Dumbledore continued. “I have heard you had a most interesting visit to France. I hope it was informational as well.”

“So you heard about Chenalt, huh. What a total…”

“Yes, yes,” chuckled Dumbledore lightly, cutting off Harry. Then his face turned more serious. “I am afraid that there are ignorant bigots everywhere you go in the magical world, even at our universities. Perhaps your little demonstration will help open some minds.”

“I doubt it made much of an impression on his sir,” added Hermione darkly.

“You are probably correct Hermione. But perhaps it will help some of his students. But I did not invite you here to discuss narrow minded professors. I hope your research has provided some new information or perhaps some new leads.

But first I wanted to tell you what I have discovered about Mr. Weasley's condition. I have searched through all of the recorded cases of werewolves in Great Britain, and none of them were ever listed as Animagi. I have several friends in Europe and the United State looking in their respective countries, but so far they have not discovered any werewolves who were also Anamagi.”

“Are you certain Professor?” asked Harry.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he replied. “Well, Mr. Potter, I have done a bit of research on my own occasionally. Though I am still waiting to hear back from a few of my colleagues, I am fairly certain that Ron will be the first recorded case.”

“I couldn't find any records of any in France.”

Hermione looked at Harry in shock. “I thought you were helping me with the research on Atlantis?”

“I was. But when you insisted on reading through everything three times I had plenty of time to do some additional research.”

“OK, so Ron has set a new record. He's the first Animagi who is also a werewolf. I'm not sure why that is important,” stated Hermione.

Harry turned towards her. “What it means is that Ron might be able to control his lycanthropy—without a potion…”

“What?! Harry! How could that…” exclaimed Hermione.

“Now, Harry, we cannot make that assumption just yet. We still have to…” protested Dumbledore.

“Think about it Hermione. What is an Animagus?”

Hermionery looked at him oddly for a moment before replying in student mode. “An Animagus is a wizard or witch who can transform themselves into an animal form.”

“And what is a werewolf?”

“Well, it is a human that transforms into a wolf…” started Hermione and then continued excitedly as she realized what Harry was hoping. “And the main difference is that an Animagus retains control. They don't become animal-like or irrational. They retain their humanity even while in animal form. The major difference between an Animagus and a werewolf is the ability to retain rational, human control. A werewolf loses that control when he or she transforms. There are other differences of course: duration, strength, transformation triggers, and so forth, but the biggest difference is the presence or lack of the human will.”

“Well done Hermione, as usual,” complimented Dumbledore while Harry looked on eagerly, “however, as I was trying to explain to Harry I am not certain Ron would be able to go without the potion. This is all strictly conjecture at this point. We don't know if Ron would be able to control the transformation without additional aid. It could prove extremely dangerous to attempt without…”

“He can control it sir. I know he can,” insisted Harry. “When I found him, he listened to me. He didn't attack me. He could have killed me very easily, but he transformed back when I asked him.”

“I do not doubt you Harry, but there could be some other explanation for it—something we are not aware of yet. It could be fatal to simply assume…”

“Then how do we explain the physical changes in Ron already? His tiger form was easily a hundred pounds heavier than the last time he transformed. And he left claw marks like a werewolf, not like a tiger. And even in his human form, he is a couple of inches taller and about fifty pounds heavier. And somehow the Wolfsbane potion already affected him like it would a werewolf even though it should have taken much longer for the transformation to occur. Doesn't that mean he's already a werewolf, even if he doesn't look like a werewolf?”

“That makes a lot of sense Harry,” added Hermione. “Maybe the fact that Ron was already an Animagus when he got bit not only allowed him to control the transformation somewhat, but also caused the werewolf form to merge with his Animagus form…”

“I believe you are both correct. However, we cannot simply assume that is what happened without additional proof. There have been various attempts to cure lycanthropy by performing the Animagus rituals. None of them have ever been successful.”

“But that could be for a variety of reasons sir. First, Animagi are rare. There were only seven registered Animagi this century…”

“Though there have been a few unregistered Animagi,” added Harry with a wry grin.

“Right, but they're still extremely rare. If none of the subjects had the potential to become Animagi, then they would have failed. Besides, the form chooses you, you don't choose the form. The odds that one of the test subjects was not only an Animagi but whose natural form was that of a werewolf must be more than a billion to one. If they tried to perform the ritual by visualizing themselves as a werewolf when that wasn't their natural form, the attempt would likely kill them.”

“As a matter of fact, several have died in the attempt, Miss Granger. That is one of the reasons no werewolf has made the attempt in over a century. Nobody believes it will work, though the theory seemed promising.”

“But now, with Ron, maybe it would work,” suggested Harry hopefully. “Maybe we could even help Remus…”

“Perhaps Harry, but we should not get our hopes up too high. Even if Ron is able to control his lyncanthropy, it does not mean that others like Remus will be able to do so as well.”

“What?!” exclaimed Harry.

“Ron was already an Animagus when he was bitten. Remus and every other werewolf you and Dumbledore have studied were not. It may simply not be possible Harry,” explained Hermione.

“I do not want you to give up all hope—things may work out in the end. However, we need to be patient and work carefully. Now Ron has been doing much better in the past week, I believe due in large part to the support of his family and the constant visits of a certain witch from Ravenclaw.” Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled. “However, there remains much research and work to do before we know for sure how much more we can do to help him. Speaking of which, how did your own research in France go?”

Hermione glanced quickly at Harry, realizing he too was not very happy about the change of topic. “Well, we were able to eliminate most of the wilder theories and myths about Atlantis. We still don't know for sure what happened, but we have a better idea. There was a civil war fought between two very powerful groups. I believe one of the sides invoked very powerful magic, more powerful than they could control. I think the magical backlash that occurred as the powers of magic tried to rebalance themselves destroyed the island itself,” explained Hermione.

“Hmm. Do you believe these artifacts from Atlantis were somehow involved?”

“We do. We think they may be related to one of the three Unforgivable curses.”

“Really? How interesting. Please continue.”

”Well, the Cruciatus curse has only been around since the ninth century. But the Avada Kedavra and the Imperius have been around a lot longer.”

“You believe that one of these sides developed their use?”

“I don't know about that, those curses may have been discovered even before their time. But I think that some of the Atlanteans were tampering with those spells. I think they were trying to make artifacts that would increase the power of those spells.”

“That would certainly explain how an entire island could be destroyed. Two of the most powerful forces in the world are the power of life and death, and the force of the human will. Nearly every human culture has some sort of religion or set of myths that attempts to set guidelines for the use of powers like these. There are numerous stories involving the misuse of these powers, and the terrible consequences that have resulted. These are forces that not even mages should ever tamper with or treat lightly. That is one of the reasons why both the Avada Kedavra and the Imperius curses are considered extremely dark magic and their use is forbidden.”

Dumbledore leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. “So you believe they created artifacts that somehow increased their power over life and death and gave them greater control over the people?”

“Well, the translations I had only spoke of one artifact being used. And I think it had something to do with the power over life and death, something like the Philosopher's stone, but much more powerful.”

“But the Philosopher's stone that Nicholas Flammel created didn't set off a magical catastrophe or anything,” countered Harry.

“Only because you kept it out of Voldemort's hands, Harry. Who knows what damage it might have done then if Voldemort had come back to full strength when you were only eleven. Besides, I think the artifact that was created was much more powerful than the Philosopher's Stone. And I think the artifact they created had something to do with the power of life and death. That's the artifact I would work on first. Once I had created it and achieved power over death, then I would have all the time in the world to create an artifact to dominate other people.”

Dumbledore smiled grimly. “You are probably correct, Hermione.”

“I wish I was more sure Professor. The texts I examined in France were all translations. The real sources, the first hand accounts, if they still exist, would be found…”

“…in the Great Library of Alexandria,” finished Dumbledore.

“You knew?” accused Harry. “We've spent weeks looking and you knew all along that the answers were in Egypt?”

“No, though I did suspect that eventually you might have to go to Alexandria for your answers.”

“What do you mean Professor? Wasn't the Great Library nearly completely burnt down by the Romans in 48 BC when Caesar was nearly trapped in Alexandria by the Egyptian navy of Cleopatra? And didn't the Christian mobs of Theophilus in the fourth century and the invading army of Caliph Omar in the seventh century finish destroying whatever records may have survived?” asked Hermione.

“Well, that is exactly what the wizards of the time wanted the whole world to believe.”

“So you mean it survived? It still exists? I have always wondered if it might, I have always hoped that it might…is it true Professor? Is the Great Library really still there in Alexandria?” asked Hermione, her voice slowly rising as she began speaking faster and faster.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily as he nodded.

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm enthusiastically. “Do you have any idea what this means Harry? Do you?”

“Hundreds, maybe thousands of additional dusty old scrolls for us to read?” sighed Harry heavily.

“YES! Isn't that exciting?! Just think about what we might learn, just think of all the accumulated knowledge that must be there! Can you imagine how many books and scrolls and papers there must be? After all, they have been collecting things for centuries! I can't believe this! I can't believe it! Oh, Professor, you have to let us go. I'm sure we'll find the answers we need there, especially if they have the original sources. I'm sure I'd be able to translate them and then…”

“Calm down for a moment, Miss Granger. There is a reason why I did not mention the Great Library before. There is a reason why so very few even know of its existence. In fact, here at Hogwarts, only Minerva, Severus, and myself know that it survives besides the two of you now. And I am the only one who has visited it.” His face became very grave. “The Great Library is one of the best guarded secrets of the wizarding world and for good reason. It contains knowledge and secrets that, in the wrong hands, could destroy the world.”

“Did Voldemort know of it?” asked Harry.

“I believe he did—but he could never gain access to it. I believe he was afraid to try.”

“What could he have been afraid of Professor?”

“Well, not only is knowledge of its existence kept as secret as possible, there are also powerful protections that guard the Library itself. Only those with a clear purpose, one that is deemed beneficial to the world, are allowed to enter its halls. There is indeed much knowledge there, Miss Granger, but it is limited to those with a great need and who have exhausted every other resource.”

“And who gets to decide? Some group of ministers or something?”

“No Harry. There is a single guardian, one with terrible power and incredible perception. It decides who will enter…and who will not,” explained Dumbledore in a low voice.

Looking sharply at Dumbledore, Harry spoke. “You went there to find out how to defeat Grindelwald, didn't you?”

A look of pain crossed Dumbledore's face and his face sagged with weariness. “Yes.”

“Why didn't you tell me about this before? Maybe we could have gone there and found a way to defeat Voldemort earlier, before he killed so many people.”

“I did visit it again when Voldemort first emerged as a threat. But the Great Library contained no knowledge that would have been of use to you. You always had the power to defeat Voldemort within you, you simply had to discover it for yourself. There was nothing anyone could do to hasten that process Harry. I am truly sorry.”

Harry stared off angrily into space as Hermione reached over and grasped his arm comfortingly and turned towards Dumbledore. “Professor…”

“I know what you want to ask Miss Granger. But I want you and Harry to take a few days and think about it first. This is not a decision one makes lightly. I will, of course, support whatever decision you make, but take some time to discuss it first. You need to be sure that the knowledge you seek there is worth the price of your lives. Many have lost their lives pursuing knowledge at the Great Library for the wrong reasons. Are you sure this quest is worth pursuing based on the fears of this mysterious figure?”

“There is one other thing Professor. Some of the translations tell of a prophecy about a new dark ruler rising, one who will seek the artifacts of Atlantis and finish the work they began.”

“Hermione, we've discussed this already. Prophecies are difficult enough to figure out when they're given in the original language, let alone when they've been translated who knows how many times.”

“I know Harry, but it lends support to the idea that we need to find these things before anyone else. And the attack yesterday only reinforces the need to find these things before anyone else does.”

“The two of you were attacked yesterday? Are you…”

“We're fine,” answered Harry, waving his hand dismissively. “We're not even sure exactly who or what attacked us. Hermione believes it was a house-elf that somehow caused dozens of university students to try and kill us while maintaining wards that prevented us from either Apparating or teleporting away from the restaurant. He asked us to stop looking for Atlantis and then tried to kill us when Hermione refused. I chased him outside and then he muttered something about bringing back a dark queen.”

“Did you say dark queen, Harry?” asked Dumbledore.

“Yeah, why?” and then glanced at Hermione as comprehension slowly dawned on her features.

“Didn't one of the members of that secret council mention a prophecy about a dark queen?” asked Hermione.

Dumbledore simply nodded as Hermione continued. “Could there be some relation between the two?”

“I do not know Miss Granger. It is possible I suppose…” he replied thoughtfully.

“We tried talking to Dobby about it, to see if house-elves were really capable of this type of magic but he wasn't much help. He insisted that house-elves could never kill a human, that they lived only to serve wizards and help them, but he's walking proof that their ideas of helping aren't always the same as ours.”

“Harry! How could you say something like that? After all he's done for…”

“Easy, Hermione. You know I love Dobby but he nearly killed me during my second year here and got me into all sorts of trouble by helping me and trying to protect me.”

“Well, it's not his fault that he's been treated like a…”

“I really don't want to get into a discussion of SPEW right now, Mione. But I think we should seriously think about whether or not to continue pursuing this whole Atlantis project…”

“You want to stop looking just because of some cryptic mention of a prophecy we know nothing about?”

“And you want to continue looking to prevent the possibility of some cryptic prophecy—that we know very little about—from coming to pass?”

When she didn't respond, Harry continued, “Look Mione, there's nowhere left to look for information about Atlantis besides this Great Library in Egypt. And if Voldemort was afraid to go there, how is some other dark wizard going to go there to try and find the information they need to find these lost artifacts that might not even exist? Besides, if you can't figure it out, who can?”

“Don't try to flatter me, Potter. There are loads of witches and wizards smarter than me. And we have to track down every clue to make sure those artifacts don't fall into the wrong hands.”

“But we don't even know if they exist.”

“And we don't know that they don't which is why we have to try and find them.”

“What?! That doesn't make any sense!”

“I thought you wanted to find out who was behind this and prevent them from finding the artifacts?!” stated Hermione.

“I do. It's just that…err…”

“You don't think I can do it! You think it's too dangerous for me!” shouted Hermione.

Harry looked helplessly at Dumbledore for help before turning back to Hermione.

“Don't look at him! You think this is involves the Death Eaters somehow, don't you Harry!”

“So what if I think it does!” shouted Harry in response. “We already know that Voldemort had at least one secret research project going on. We know that he had allied himself with the vampires. We know that some crazed house-elf is running around out there trying to kill you, probably under the orders of his Death Eater master. We know what Death Eaters like Bellatrix and Lucius are capable of, having learned from the master of torture and murder himself. And who else do we know that was more obsessed with gaining power over life and death besides Voldemort?! If this artifact does have the power of life and death, who would want it more than one of Voldemort's followers? And why would they want it? SO THEY COULD BRING HIM BACK TO LIFE!!!”

“We don't know for sure Harry! There could be someone else involved. But even if it is another Death Eater plan, the only way to stop them is to find it first.”

“I know that!”

“So how are you going to do that without me?! You can't keep me safe by hiding me Harry. You can't always protect me by leaving me behind, like you did when you went after Draco's dad. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself!”

“I never said you couldn't!” protested Harry. “I just don't want to see you get hurt.”

“I know Harry, but you're smothering me. You have to trust me. You have to let me help and do what I can. Do you have any idea how to get to the Great Library?”

“Not really.”

“Can you go the Great Library and translate the texts?”

“No.”

“Then you're going to have to stop being so overprotective and let me help.”

Looking somewhat abashed, Harry nodded and started to apologize. “I'm sorry Mione. I don't mean to…It's just that…I get so worried…Voldemort and his followers have killed or tried to kill nearly everyone that has ever gotten close to me…and I just can't bear the thought of losing you…”

Hermione stepped closer, the anger quickly draining from her as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, trying to soothe him. “I know, I know Harry. But I promise, nothing's going to happen. We'll sort this out together, OK? We're a team, remember? Besides, you're always there to protect me, right?”

Harry grinned slightly and nodded.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke softly. “As I was saying, I would like the two of you to take a few more days before deciding whether you want to go to Egypt.” Sheepishly, both Harry and Hermione looked over at Dumbledore, who had been watching them silently, his eyes twinkling slightly.

“We'll let you know in a few days.”

“Sorry about that Professor…”

“It's quite alright. Is there anything else?” Harry and Hermione shook their heads and stood to leave.

As they walked out, Hermione muttered, “Listen Harry, I'm sure that…”

Dumbledore smothered a chuckle before turning towards his fireplace.

--

As they walked back towards the Gryffindor common room, they saw Ron coming down the stairs. “There you are!” he exclaimed. “I've been looking for you.”

“What did you need Ron?” asked Harry.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask Hermione.”

“Ron, if this is about McGonagall's essay that is due tomorrow, I told you at least a dozen times that you should have started it last week. I am not going to help you…”

“That's due tomorrow? Oh, bloody hell. Look, Hermione, it's not about that essay. There's something else I need to talk to you about. It's about a girl I know…”

Harry started chuckling.

“Shut up Potter. It's not what you think. Look, we need to go somewhere else to talk.”

“There should be an empty classroom or two downstairs. Follow me Ron. And if you're going to keep laughing Harry, go on back to the common room.”

“No, no, I'm fine,” gasped Harry as he tried to catch his breath. “I'm sorry mate, I promise, no more jokes.”

“Fine. Come on then.”

Hermione led them to a classroom and opened the door. Once inside, Ron looked around before he started explaining. “I'm not sure exactly where to start. It's about Luna. I was wondering if you could help her.”

“Help her? What do you mean?”

“Well you know what she's like…”

“Yes, Ron, but I'm not sure what you want me to do.”

“Well, the way she acts most of the time is not really the way she is. I know this doesn't make much sense, but Luna is much smarter than she appears.”

Hermione and Harry just looked at Ron.

“Think about it for a minute. Haven't you ever wondered why she's in Ravenclaw? Do you really think she'd be there if she were really as goofy as she usually acts?”

“Well, lots of intelligent people, even geniuses have often exhibited abnormal habits, serious quirks, sometimes very compulsive behaviors…What are you two looking at?”

Harry and Ron quickly looked away from each other and managed to keep straight faces before replying at the same time, “Nothing.”

Ron then glanced back at Hermione. “Listen Hermione. There's something else going on here. I've talked to her when she seemed very normal, just like one of us. There's something wrong with her, but nobody at St. Mungo's or anywhere else has been able to help her.”

“So what makes you think I can do anything Ron?” asked Hermione.

“Because you're the only telepath that I know. Maybe you can find something or help her somehow or…”

“Ron, it doesn't work like that. I can't just…”

“You've helped Harry, haven't you?”

“Well, yes, but that's different. I know Harry better than anyone else—I don't know Luna that well at all…”

“Will you at least try? Please? Just talk to her.”

“Have you said anything about this to her?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you first. I want to help her if I can. She…she's been a lot of help since I was bitten. Please, Hermione. Just talk to her.”

Hermione looked at Ron and nodded. “I'll talk to her, Ron. But I may not be able to help her at all. But I promise I'll try.”

“Thanks, Hermione. That's all I'm asking.” Ron gave her a big hug and then walked out of the room.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a moment after he left. Hermione gave him a peck on the cheek and whispered, “I guess I'll go find her now and talk to her.”

Harry watched her go and replied, “Good luck. If there's anything I can do…”

Hermione smiled. “I'll let you know.”

***

“Ron! Wait up!” called Harry as they walked through the portrait door into the Gryffindor common room. “Follow me,” he whispered and led Ron upstairs to their room.

Making sure that they were both alone, Harry closed the door before turning towards Ron. “Look, Hermione and I were talking with Dumbledore and we have some ideas about helping your lycanthropy. We may even be able to help Remus. Come with me now to visit Remus and I'll explain it to both of you at the same time.”

Nodding in assent, Ron replied, “Let's go.”

Harry grabbed his shoulder and in the blink of an eye, they were standing in the corner of Lupin's office at the Ministry of Magic. If Harry's lips could have moved, he would have sworn.

Lupin's laugh boomed through the room. “Dumbledore told me to expect you Harry. If I'd known you were going to bring a friend, I would have brought more biscuits.”

Concentrating briefly, Harry caused a light wind to erase part of the chalk circle that had trapped Ron and himself when they teleported to Lupin's office. “That's funny, Remus.”

Lupin smiled broadly. “Very good Harry. I am impressed.”

“I've seen it before.”

Remus stopped and looked at him. “And you got trapped by it again? Maybe I should inform Samuel…”

“No reason to get mean and nasty Remus just because I evaded all of the other protections here at the Ministry. Don't worry, I'll be doing some research and figuring out a way to detect it and avoid it in the future. You forget, I have the world's smartest witch to help me figure these sorts of things out.”

Remus chuckled and sat back down at his desk. He pushed a tray of biscuits towards the two boys as he motioned them towards a pair of seats. Ron dropped into a seat, grabbed a couple, and bit down. Harry stepped towards a chair and then paused when the door opened and in stepped a young witch.

“Remus? I thought I heard voices…Who are you? How did you get in?” she demanded as she whipped out her wand in the flash of an eye. Harry was quicker however. His wand was already out as he saw her move her wrist for her wand. He summoned her wand even as she began aiming it at him, catching it easily in his left hand. Surprise and then anger flashed across her face as she quickly launched a flying front kick at Harry just as Remus shouted out, “Megan, stand down. It's fine—they're friends!”

Harry smoothly side-stepped her kicking attack as Ron leaped out of his chair and grabbed her ankle in midair and altered her trajectory to the side of the room. She crashed to the floor and then rolled away, quickly regaining her feet.

“Stop! All of you stop before you completely destroy my office!” roared Remus.

“Are you all right Remus? Who are these two and how did they get in here?”

“Well, this is Ronald Weasley. You've probably heard of his father, the Minister of Magic. And this is…”

“Harry Potter!” exclaimed Megan, glancing at the dark hair, the glasses, and the faint scar on his forehead.

Holding out her wand, Harry spoke softly, “If you promise not to use it on me, I'll give it back to you.”

She grinned and he tossed her wand back to her. She looked at Remus when he spoke. “As for how they got in here without setting off all the alarms—well, that is something I intend to discuss with Mr. Potter here in a few minutes. And Megan, if you could keep their presence here a secret—I don't see any need for either of them getting detention for being away from Hogwarts without permission.”

Megan laughed and walked back out the door. “Just try to let me know when they're coming next time Remus. There's a reason they have me help you manage your personal appointments.”

Remus then turned to the two teen-aged boys. “Are you two quite through harassing my assistant?”

“Sorry,” they both muttered as they took their seats.

“Now what is so important that you both felt the urgent need to visit me today without notice?”

“It's about your…your lycanthropy…” started Harry.

“Yes, yes, Dumbledore already told me about his discussion with you and Miss Granger. And I know you mean well, but you need to be careful and cautious Harry. And especially you Ron. Don't do anything stupid in the hopes of finding some miracle cure.”

“What?! How can you say that?!” roared Ron. “You've been waiting your whole life for a cure! And if they think they've found one then…”

“That's all that they have Ron. Some thoughts and some theories. I'm just telling you to avoid getting your hopes too high in case it doesn't work out. It will take time to thoroughly study and investigate the ideas that Dumbledore and Harry have come up with. And I want you both to be patient as well. If there is a cure, we'll find it. But it will take time.”

Harry and Ron exchanged a quick look and then glanced back at Remus. Harry stood up and looked directly at Remus. “Is that the advice you gave my father and his friends when they risked their lives on their Animagus transformations? Did you know they were going to attempt it? I would risk anything to help my friends, Remus. Wouldn't you?”

“You know I would Harry. But you're not risking anything here. Only Ron is, and he would be risking his life if you do anything rash or foolish.”

“And it's my life to risk Remus. Think of what it could mean to be able to control the werewolf transformation, think of all those who could benefit if Dumbledore and Harry are right.”

“I do, Ron. I think about a cure everyday. But it's not worth risking your life over. Be patient. There's no need to rush things.”

His knuckles cracking, Ron fought to keep his voice level. “I thought you would understand Remus. I thought you would be supportive. I guess I was wrong. Come on Harry, let's go. He's not going to help us.”

“Ron, Harry, wait. Please promise me you won't go and do anything on your own.”

Both boys glared at Remus. Ron spoke softly, “We'll do whatever we think is right.”

Remus nodded sadly. “I know you will. And I'll respect your privacy and your decision—I won't say a word to Dumbledore. But please be careful, whatever you decide to do.” As they turned to leave, he whispered, “Good luck.” Then they disappeared.

***

“Intelligence illuminates all,” announced Hermione. “Typical self-important password for the Ravenclaws,” she thought to herself. When the red-robed witch opened the portrait door to Ravenclaw tower for her, Hermione entered quickly. Looking around the elegant common room decorated in blue and gold she scanned the students' faces looking for Luna. Ignoring the whispers protesting her presence she looked for a familiar face. “Justin! Have you seen Luna around?”

Justin walked up to her shaking his head. “She comes and goes a lot. Why don't you ask one of her roommates? Beth! Have you seen Luna?”

A short, thin blonde stood up from she had been working at a long table and walked over. “I think she said something about taking a walk by the lake. But then again, with her you never know. Now if you don't mind, I have several essays to finish.” And she turned right around and walked back to her books.

“Thanks Beth, Justin. I'll go look for her there.” As Hermione turned back towards the door, she noticed that nearly everyone in the room was working on an essay or reading a book despite the beautiful day outside. “I'm definitely not in Gryffindor Tower anymore,” she observed to herself with amusement.

As she walked back downstairs she took a passage that would lead her to the front doors. Once outside, she faced Gryffindor Tower, raised her wand and said quietly, “Accio Marauder's Map.”

A small, folded pamphlet came flying out and she grabbed it easily. Opening it up, she quickly found Luna wandering down by the edge of the Forbidden Forest behind Hagrid's hut. Refolding the map quickly and placing it in her pocket, she headed over to find Luna. A few minutes later she spotted the blonde headed girl sitting down humming softly to herself as she watched the Forest as if she were waiting for someone.

Hermione walked over quietly, rubbing her arms slightly in the chilly afternoon air. “Umm, Luna?”

“Oh hi Hermione. Have you come looking for a gold-winged pholoneter as well? They're very rare, but they are supposed to be attracted to music. It is said that holding one of their feathers will give you the most beautiful of singing voices. I thought maybe Ron could do with some more cheering up. He's been awfully down lately, but I expect you know all about that. Come here, you can help me—do you know `God Save the Queen?'”

Struggling to follow the entire one-sided conversation, Hermione finally managed to break in with a word. “Luna. Ron asked me to come and talk to you.”

“Oh, that's very sweet of him. But why you? He should know that you and I don't really get along all that well, much as I would like to have a friend that…”

Hermione looked at her strangely before continuing. “Yes, Luna, and I'm sorry about that. I haven't been very helpful or friendly towards you and I'm very sorry. But Ron thought I might be able to help you with something and I promised I'd come talk to you about it.”

“But how did he know I was looking for a gold-winged pholoneter? I haven't told anyone…”

“It's not about a bird, Luna. It's about you. Ron mentioned something about…er, I'm not sure exactly how to say this…”

“Just tell me straight out. That would probably be for the best Hermione,” suggested Luna.

“Well, he said you had seen lots of specialists since…since the death of your mother and that none of them have been able to figure out…”

Luna stood up, her face white and her pale blue eyes flashing with anger. “So I'm just another puzzle for you to solve, am I? Another intellectual challenge to be figured out? I can't believe Ron said anything about this to you.” She turned to walk off but Hermione grabbed her arm gently.

“Wait Luna. Ron was very concerned about you. He was only trying to help. Please don't be mad at him because you dislike me.”

“I don't dislike you Hermione. It is you who dislikes me. Now if you'll let go of me I won't waste any more of your precious time.”

“Luna, please listen for a minute before you storm off.” Luna had pulled her arm free and began marching off.

“Luna! Please wait.”

Luna paused and slowly turned around. “How? How did you do that? Are you a menvark?”

“A what? No. I'm a telepath Luna. Ron thought that I might be able to help you somehow.”

“How?”

“I'm not exactly sure. I've been able to help Harry several times through our telepathic link, so I guess Ron thought I would be able to do the same for you.”

“And this was all Ron's idea?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what do we do then?”

“Look. I don't want you to get your hopes up. I think the only reason that I was able to help Harry was because of our very close relationship. I'm not sure I'll be able to do anything more than the specialists you have already seen, but I promised Ron I would try. So here is what I suggest. I will enter your mind and with your help we will try to find what is troubling you.”

Luna sat back down and looked at Hermione with a strange look on her face. “What do I need to do?”

“Just close your eyes and try to relax.” Hermione sat down in front of Luna, reached out with her right hand to touch Luna lightly on the forehead and concentrated.

***

Hermione opened her eyes and found herself in a large hall covered with mirrors. Everywhere she turned, she saw her image reflected a hundred times. It was a little disconcerting. “Luna!” she called out.

An image of the thin girl with long blonde hair appeared beside her. As Hermione turned, she noticed something different about her eyes. Instead of misty and unfocused, they appeared sharp and penetrating.

“Hello Hermione. Do you have any ideas about how to proceed?”

Hermione just stared at her oddly for a moment.

Luna chuckled for a moment. “Ron was the same way at first. Like I explained to him, this is the real Luna Lovegood you see before you, not the strange girl most people know. Something happened when I witnessed my mother's death, something that still causes me to act very strange most of the time. But this is the real me you see before you, the Luna that belongs in Ravenclaw.”

Hermione simply nodded and then said softly. “Luna, I want to apologize again for the dismissive way I have treated you before. It was unfair and unkind of me to treat you that way. I am truly sorry.”

“Apology accepted Hermione. What do we do now?”

“I'm not sure, I have to think for a minute.” Hermione slowly turned around, looking carefully at all the different mirrors and images. She saw hundreds of images of herself and Luna looking back at her thoughtfully. Suddenly she stopped, staring intently at one of the images and walked closer to it. “Tell me Luna, do you see anything odd about this mirror image?”

Luna looked at it closely. “Well, I look just like I always do. And so do you. It looks like I'm looking right at you.”

“Yeah, that's the problem. My image in this mirror is backwards. It should be a reflection of me, but instead it looks just like me in real life. But yours is a reflection. Why would that be?”

Luna and Hermione stared thoughtfully at the mirror for several moments before Hermione spoke again. “Every person's mind is different. Harry's has a huge labyrinth with a castle in the middle, mine looks like an enormous library, and Ron's is a forest, and yours is a hall of mirrors. I have a theory that the different images reveal something about each person's personality. The question is, what do the mirrors represent about you Luna?”

Luna looked around, deep in thought. “All the mirrors seem to reflect to one point, perhaps they all represent the same event or idea. But one of the mirrors is slightly different from the others, it creates a real image instead of a reflection, at least for you. But why it's different for you than for me I'm not sure.”

“Well, there's only one way to find out. Follow me,” replied Hermione as she reached out to touch the surface of the mirror. Luna reached out her hand and they touched it together and both were immediately thrown backwards across the room.

Sitting up, Luna looked at Hermione. Hermione frowned thoughtfully. “For some reason, we are not supposed to see what is behind that mirror.” She turned towards Luna. “It may be that you are trying to hide something from yourself behind that mirror—maybe protect yourself from some painful memory or event. Or maybe someone else doesn't want you to see behind it. It's impossible to tell for sure right now. Luna, you have to decide if you really want to know what is there. Do you?”

Luna stood up and helped Hermione to her feet. “I do,” she replied in a grim voice.

Hermione nodded and drew out her wand. “Stand back. Alohomora.” She tried it a few more times with more power. Nothing happened. Hermione tried a few more powerful spells with seemingly no effect. Eyebrows furrowed in thought, she stepped closer to the mirror and examined it from all angles. Her eyes widened and she whispered “Aura Revelo.”

Both Hermione and Luna gasped as tendrils of blue and gold light pulsed faintly around the mirror. They then watched in astonishment as the strands of light wove their away around the room and touched every other mirror in the expansive hall.

“What does this mean Hermione? Why are their two different…”

“I think there is something you saw or learned that someone else wants you to forget. This blue light does not belong to your magical aura. It represents the magic of someone else.”

“But if someone had cast a memory charm or something similar, somebody at St. Mungo's would have discovered it.”

“Unless it is an entirely different spell. Or a different type of magic. I'm sorry Luna, but I don't have any answers right now.” Hermione stood thoughtfully for a moment. “Before we try that mirror again, I think we should try looking in one of the other mirrors first. They're all connected somehow and it might give us a clue about how to break through the barrier on this particular mirror. We'll touch this mirror together.”

They both reached their hands towards the mirror on the right and immediately the surface shimmered, rippled, and then disappeared to reveal a well lit room filled with bubbling cauldrons and lightly smoking flames. They could see the back of a woman with long blond hair working at a table, humming softly to herself.

“Mum!” shouted Luna, but the woman continued stirring, oblivious to her cry.

“She can't hear us, this is your memory,” whispered Hermione. “Do you recognize it?”

“Yes,” sighed Luna sadly. “This is my memory of her death.”

A moment later there was a powerful explosion. Hermione heard Luna shrieking beside her and reached out and put an arm around her shoulders as she started to sob. Hermione looked back towards the mirror and watched as a door seemed to open before her and she ran out into the smoking room. She saw the woman, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, bleeding and burnt from the explosion. But she did not move.

“Mum!” she heard a high pitched voice wail. “Mum! What's wrong! Why aren't you moving?! MUM!” Hermione watched two thin little arms reach out towards the still body, trying to rub away the blood on the cheek and patting the woman's shoulder cautiously. Then the view faded to a gray mist and once again Hermione and Luna found themselves in front of their reflected images.

Luna let Hermione hug her as she finished crying and then stepped back to wipe her eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…”

“You have nothing to apologize for Luna. I'm sorry about your mother. I didn't know.”

The two girls stood there quietly for a moment while Luna collected herself. Hermione looked at the mirror again intently.

“Do you still want to know what's behind this mirror Luna?”

“Yes,” came the fierce reply.

“Okay. Here's what we're going to try. We don't want to destroy the spell—we don't know what kind of effect that might have on your mind. We just want to weaken it enough so that we can see what's behind the mirror. I will cast a variation of a shield charm to try and block the spell's hold on the mirror while you cast a force diffusion spell to weaken the repelling force. Now spells work slightly differently here than outside someone's mind, but this should work. But you need to focus Luna. You really have to want the spell to succeed or we'll never break through. Can you do that?”

“Yes. I'm ready.” She drew her wand and said very calmly, “Fuerza diffusa.”

“Isolito.”

They focused on their spells for several moments and then at Hermione's nod, they both stretched a hand forwards the mirror's surface. This time, their hands touched it briefly before the view shimmered and changed.

Once again, the vision of the well lit room filled with bubbling cauldrons and lightly smoking flames appeared before them. They could see the back of Luna's mother again through the small decorative cracks in the door as she worked at a table, humming softly.

A man in soft blue robes walked into the picture. “Lindy. Are you about finished with the Veritaserum potion?”

Luna's mother turned to reply as Luna muttered in shock. “Dad? What's going on here?”

“Shhh,” hissed Hermione.

“…told you. I'm not making it for you. You know that it's illegal to create without specific permission from the Ministry.”

“But I need to know. He's keeping something hidden and I fully intend to discover what it is. There is something wrong about the way he continues to avoid telling me the truth. There's some sinister plot and I plan on finding out what it is and exposing it. People have a right to know and nobody is going to care if we use veritaserum on a…”

“Stop it Elric. I've told you that I'm not making it and that's that. Now if you don't mind, this potion is very dangerous and if I don't pay close attention…”

Luna's father marched away angrily. “Fine then. Have it your way. If you won't help me, then I'll simply find another way.”

There was a shout from where Luna's father had walked out of their line of sight and Luna's mother turned toward the sound. “Elric! No!” she cried in horror. She took a step forward and then was knocked backwards by an invisible force into her worktable. The cauldron tipped over and exploded when it touched the flames, throwing Lindy Lovegood forward again into the smoking workroom. Once again Hermione and Luna listened and watched as a younger Luna screamed for her mother and ran towards her, trying to understand what had happened. Then their view of the room spun wildly and they were left staring at the ceiling as their view slowly faded away again.

Hermione felt Luna slump against her muttering, “MUM! What did he do? What did he do? MUM!” Hermione kneeled down beside her and wrapped her arms around her again, trying to soothe her again. Her attention snapped forward as all of a sudden the blue and gold lights flared brilliantly for a moment and then a series of explosions wracked the hall. Instinctively, Hermione pushed Luna over on the floor and covered her face and head as best as she could. When the explosions stopped, Hermione looked up cautiously and realized every single one of the mirrors in the room had been shattered. Except for the one. She then heard a low wailing that slowly built in intensity until it threatened to bore right into her own skull. She closed her eyes and suddenly the sound went away to be replaced by a loud sobbing. When Hermione opened her eyes again, she realized the chilly afternoon breeze had picked up and that she was shivering. Luna had collapsed beside her and was crying very hard. Hermione tried to help her get up but she seemed unaware of Hermione.

“What have I done? What have I done?” thought Hermione. “I have to get her inside.”

“Mobilicorpus.” She then directed Luna's floating, crying body in front of her towards the castle with her wand. “Madame Pomfrey, I'm bringing Luna Lovegood to see you in the infirmary.” She then sent out messages to Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore asking them to meet her at the infirmary as well. She tried to reach Harry, but he wasn't anywhere on the castle grounds. Though that confused her and slightly alarmed her, she realized she needed to try and help Luna first.

When she arrived at the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey quickly helped lay her in a bed and forced a sleeping potion down her throat. As Luna relaxed and fell asleep she turned towards Hermione just as McGonagall and Dumbledore arrived.

“Do you know what happened to put her in such a state, Miss Granger?

“I'm afraid it's all my fault. Ron asked me to help her so I went to talk to her and…”

“Help her with what Miss Granger?” asked Dumbledore kindly.

“With her strange behavior…” started Hermione.

“With her what? I'm afraid I don't understand Miss Granger,” huffed Madame Pomfrey.

“Neither did I at first. But Ron told me that Luna had told him that she has only behaved oddly since she witnessed her mother's death. He thought that maybe I could help her somehow telepathically, like I have helped Harry in the past. Apparently none of the healers at St. Mungos have been able to help.”

“And you thought that you could help where they had failed? How…”

“Now Poppy, I am sure Miss Granger was only trying to help…” insisted Dumbledore.

“I didn't think there was anything I could do to help. But I promised Ron I would try. And I asked Luna if she wanted to go on, if she wanted to know the truth. And she did.”

“You are both too young to know what is best for you or to make such decisions about…” replied Madame Pomfrey.

“We were old enough to risk our lives fighting against Voldemort and his army last year. I think we are old enough to make our own decisions about our own health…” snapped Hermione angrily.

“Miss Granger, you mentioned that you and Miss Lovegood were searching for the truth. What truth were you seeking?”

“We found the memory of her mother's death.”

“Oh my…you did what?!” shrieked Madame Pomfrey.

“But there were two versions.”

“What?!” exploded McGonagall.

Looking steadily at Dumbledore, Hermione repeated. “There were two sets of memories. One memory was the one in which her mother died in an accident. That's the one she has always remembered. The other one, a memory which was guarded and protected, revealed an argument between her mother and her father, and then it looked like her mother was hit by a spell that knocked over her cauldron and caused the explosion that killed her. When we were done viewing that memory, I think her mind destroyed the false memories and she started crying. I think she's still in shock and grief, so I thought I'd bring her here.”

“Well, that was a good idea Miss Granger,” said McGonagall.

“I'll see what I can do, although…” sighed Madame Pomfrey.

“What is done is done, there is no sense trying to place blame. We need to focus on helping Miss Lovegood.”

“Of course Professor Dumbledore,” replied Pomfrey as she headed back to her office. “And somebody should notify her Head of House…”

“I will take care of that,” replied Dumbledore, watching with concern as Hermione bent her head and wiped a cheek with her hand and then headed quickly for the door. Dumbledore glanced quickly and nodded slightly at McGonagall who quickly followed Hermione out. Then Dumbledore turned back towards Luna with a concerned look on his face.

---

Several days later, the Trio was sitting around the bed of Luna Lovegood while she lay resting in the infirmary.

“She's doing loads better, though she's still sad and tired,” explained Ron who was seated close to her bedside.

“I hope so,” offered Hermione. “I still feel like this is all my fault.”

“It is not, Miss Granger,” said Dumbledore softly. “You have merely helped her face the truth, and that can be a very difficult thing to do sometimes. But I trust that her friends will help see her through it.”

When Dumbledore turned to leave, Hermione flashed a glance at Harry who simply nodded.

She followed him quietly outside into the hall.

“Yes Miss Granger?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

Looking around to make sure nobody could overhear them. “Harry and I have decided we would like to go to the Library.”

Dumbledore looked at her for a moment and she added, “Well, I decided to go to the Library and Harry decided I needed some company.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “I thought as much. Will three weeks be enough time?”

Hermione's smile answered his question better than any mere words could.

“You may go the week before the holiday vacation begins in December. That will give you over three weeks to research at the library before classes begin again in January, should you require it, though I hope you come home to spend at least Christmas day with your friends and family. I will notify your professors and make the necessary arrangements…”

“Professor, if you don't mind, we would like to keep this just between ourselves. Harry is convinced that whoever launched the attack on us at the University knew we were coming beforehand. He doesn't want anybody else but you knowing we'll be leaving. And he insists on making the arrangements himself. Personally, I think he's been spending too much time with Samuel.”

Dumbledore chuckled again. “I will leave all the arrangements in the more than capable hands of yourself and Mr. Potter. I must insist however that you notify Professor McGonagall before you leave, even if it is only the night before. She is your Head of House, after all.”

It was Hermione's turn to smile. “Why Professor Dumbledore, you wouldn't be anxious about having another discussion with Professor McGonagall about students off on their own again would you?”

“Of course not Miss Granger. Good afternoon.”

*-*-*

Next Chapter: The Great Library

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