Harry Potter and the Curse of Atlantis by R K Thompson

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 17/03/2005
Last Updated: 14/07/2005
Status: In Progress

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.




1. A Missing Hero
-----------------



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.

-->



2. Summer Vacation
------------------



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.”

-->



3. Acropolis
------------



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 5th 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 i**f 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 H**arry**. 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 r**esearch 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. U**nless 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.

-->



4. The Long Walk Home
---------------------



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.

-->



5. Summoning the Council
------------------------



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. D**id 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 Prim**us will check out the others.**”*

*“**Do you think he will g**et into trouble for telling us?**”*

*“**Dumbledore didn't tell us an**ything. He forgot to empty his
P**ensieve* *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 a**bout 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.

-->



6. The Oath of Gryffindor
-------------------------



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,* *M**ione?**”*

*“**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* *would**st* *have presented me to Harry before last spring, I*
*desired greatly to aid in the defeat of* *the treacherous* *Death*
*E**aters. 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 judgm**ent.”*

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.* *I**t 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 can**st*
*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* *physi**cal 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. Whil**st 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*
*othe**rwise 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 cond**itioning 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 can**st* *teach your body how to react,*
*ye both must* *train yourselves how to fight.* *Ye must learn h**ow to move
beyond reaction and move to anticipation. I can**st* *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 t**he first*
*skills I shall teach* *thee* *is how to* *master* *th**y 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 do**st 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.

-->



7. Dedicating Hallowed Ground
-----------------------------



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 rea**ding 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.

-->



8. Ch 8 Warnings from a Wanderer
--------------------------------



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 D**umbledore 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.

-->



9. Birthday Bash
----------------



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, a**re you s**ure 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**,* *l**ike on that
afternoon at Hogwarts down by the lake when you were supposed to be taking a nap in the
infir**mary.”* 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.

-->



10. Reflections and Reconciliations
-----------------------------------



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 wa**nted 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.

-->



11. The Woes of Ron Weasley
---------------------------



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 overreacti**ng 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 inf**rared 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 me**et 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 yo**u doing?!?! Stop!! NOOO! H**ARRY!”*

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.

-->



12. Dueling Death
-----------------



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 wou**ld be the time to suggest
them.”*

*“**Kill the one* *thou callest* *Katie first.* *It* *is m**ore
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. It**s kind* *cares nothin**g 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 c**hange form,* *Master* *Harry. When they*
*perish,* *the* *accursed* *Yonnua remain* *forever* *in the form of
their last victim. That* *i**s why it ha**th* *been so difficult to prove their
existe**nce.”*

“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.

-->



13. Chasing a Ghost
-------------------



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, t**he 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 conditi**on of either Hermione or Harry?* *”*

“ *I am truly sorry,* *Master Dumbledore**. There is not much more information I
can**st* *add than I ha**th* *already given* *thee**. I* *failed
to recognize* *the grav**e* *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 ha**th*
*seen, the attack destroyed everything—I do* *n**o**t 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**. Nobod**y 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. Ha**st 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
H**ermione.**”*

*“* *Master Potter,* *I know* *that ye both ha**th* *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 w**ish* *to* *assist ye if I
canst.* *We* *canst* *cover mo**re 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?* *”*

*“* *Fe**el 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 behind**st* *the mirror. I
was**t* *sore* *afraid that after the Yonnua's mental attack, there would be
nothing left of* *Mistress Granger**.* *Yet* *something of her ha**th*
*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 abou**t? 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*
*h**er. 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, j**ust a little tired. I'm through the veil.* *I'll
go look for H**ermione. 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,* *M**ione! 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 grab**bed* *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* *h**ad sor**t of a rough time finding you. I t**ook 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?”

-->



14. Trials at the Ministry
--------------------------



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 t**his 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*
*know**ing* *that yo**u 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*
*artifact**s* *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 concer**ned 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, d**o not mention me. As* *thou well* *know,
sentient objects* *are viewed with great suspicion. I fear that this court of vipers will
neithe**r believe nor accept my testimony. Especiall**y 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**. G**ive 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.**”*

-->



15. Trial by Fire
-----------------



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,* *M**ione. 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 th**is. It's not going to help
you…”*

*“**Relax, Mi**one. 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 a**s 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 t**akes* *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 oppos**ing 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 someh**ow 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
do**n'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.

-->



16. A Fallen Hero
-----------------



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 Auro**rs 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
b**ig 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 d**id**, you know they would come after you and the
Weasleys and Dumbledore and everyone else that is clos**e* *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 w**itness besides me or something.”*

*“**I'm not giving up. But I…l**isten,* *Mione,* *there might be a
way. Th**ere 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 actual**ly have something useful
on it.* *Otherwise I'm toast.”*

*“**Harry! I won't let them* *do anything to you, I promise.”*

*“**I know. And t**hanks, 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.”

-->



17. The Secrets of 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,
i**t will stop working.”*

*“**But even if we know exactly where it is, we still wo**n'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 kno**w 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
completel**y 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
quie**tly.”*

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 clos**er to the prison. Come on.”*

*“**Wait. Let's put on the* *Sneaking Sneakers* *first. It will be a
l**ot 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 differ**ent islands just off the
shore.”*

*“**Well, how long would they live here—I mean, it* *looks pretty dull around
here.”*

*“**They woul**d live here their entire lives.”*

*“**Really? What did their girlfriends think? I can't s**ee them liking this
place much.”*

*“**Monks never married. Convents were the places where nuns, or religious women, would
live. They took vows of chas**tity 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 cast**l**e, is known as Holy Island**. It**s
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 t**here 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
Disil**lusionment charm keeps working.”*

*“**It may no**t keep working if we transform?”*

*“**I don't know for sure. Theoret**ically, I think it should, but…”*

*“**Can you see me?**”* asked Fred.

*“**O**f course not, now let me think…”*

*“**Well, if you can't see me, then I gu**ess 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 th**ought 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 ha**ve 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 enou**gh 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 ge**tting 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 th**ere 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 c**hange guards for the new
shift.”*

*“**If this works out Fred, I swear I won't confiscate* *any* *prohibited
item**s from your shop that* *I happen to find a**t Hogwarts for an entire
month.”*

*“**Four wee**ks, 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.

*“**W**hew! 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 i**t 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.

-->



18. Secrets Revealed
--------------------



“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 th**e 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 charm**s* *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 c**an help Dumbledore reach Harry?”*

*“**Yes M**istress* *Granger**,* *I believe so.”*

*“**You believe* *so? You don't know for sure?”*

*“**Well, no**ne* *can**st* *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. T**hou 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
o**f 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 m**istress. 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.

-->



19. Seeking Justice
-------------------



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,* *P**olyjuice 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 i**n 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 pres**ent. 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 bac**k 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 pot**ions 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 her**e.”*

*“Do you have any ideas, Saldar?”*

“*Perhaps if one of you could actually place me in his possession, I might be able t**o
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 rig**ht
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 item**s 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 abou**t 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* *P**olyjuice potion to impersonate Samuel to sneak into Azkaban*?!”
roared Harry.

*“**How did you think I got c**lose enough to enter your mind?”*

*“Uhh—well…”*

*“**Besides, it was easier breaking in this time than it was when Fred an**d I came
for the Eye of Sauron.”*

*“**What?! I told you to have Dumbledore or Lup**in 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 un**til 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.

“*Perh**aps another approach is needed*,” mused Dumbledore thoughtfully.

Harry's face looked thoughtful for a minute. “*Mione, you found you**r way here and
back out, right?”*

*“Yes, why?”*

“*Do you think you ca**n take something back with you?”*

*“**Tak**e 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 thi**nk 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 t**o 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 infirm**ary at
Hogwarts.”*

“*Good, now we can focus on the more important problem. What do we do tomorrow at the
tria**l 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 b**est 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 *y**ou* 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

-->



20. Bringing Down a Minister
----------------------------



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. *Petrificu**s
T**otalis*!” 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 enou**gh?”*

*“**You don't have to Harry. You would have done the same for me. Don't you
realize yet that I would do anythi**ng to help you, to protect you?”*

*“**I love you Mione. What did I ever do to des**erve 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 someth**ing, 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

-->



21. End of Vacation
-------------------



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 lik**e 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 easie**r 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

-->



22. 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

-->



23. First Week of School
------------------------



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 unf**air advantage right now, Mione.”*

*“**I**'m fine, Harry. I* *want to* *do this on my own, tha**nks.
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. “*Batt**uerum Mar**tel!”* 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.

“*B**rilliant 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 t**his 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 cha**nce 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 s**ee 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

-->



24. 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 st**arted 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.

-->



25. Prank Wars
--------------



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, y**ou'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 chat**s**, 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* *sens**e 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.
“*Percut**io*.”

“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 15th, 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 d**on'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.”

-->



26. A Hunting We Will Go
------------------------



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,”
s*he 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
s**harper,* *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 t**hings 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 ot**her 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* *M**ione, 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* *i**s 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. An**d 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*
*wa**i**t 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.

-->



27. Quidditch Weekend
---------------------



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 near**ly* *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* *rea**cted 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”*

*“**A**nd 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

-->



28. 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*
*c**a**n't just simply let him loose, c**an* *I**? What if he killed
another innocent victim? And yet* *Azkaban w**ill* *never hold him—and he might kill
somebody in his next escape. And* *I* *kn**o**w what it would be like to be
sentenced to Azkaban for the rest of* *your* *life and be drugged while there.*
*And* *i**sn't he proposing to do what* *I do* *as an Auror?
D**on't I* *hunt down evil and destroy it? But c**an 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.

-->



29. Things That Go Bump in the Night
------------------------------------



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* *A**nimagus 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

-->



30. French Escapades
--------------------



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 *Mu**dbloods* 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. “*Sen**s**oris
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, “*Fini**te 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*! *Tara**nta**telleg**r**a*!
*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 Mu**nchers. I must have missed the book* *on Killing your Enemies
with Kindness. And* *Hunt* *sure hasn't emphasized* *m**any*
*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**, h**ow 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
any**body 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
investigation**s**. And it's not like they have anything to work with here—a**ll
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

-->



31. Catching Snitches and Helping Witches
-----------------------------------------



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 *Cruci**atus* curse has only been around since the ninth century. But the
*Avada Kedavra* and the *Imperi**us* 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
*Imperi**us* 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.”*

“*Mobil**i**corpus.”* 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

-->



32. Durmstrang Battles, Prank Wars II, and the Great Library
------------------------------------------------------------



Ch 32 The Great Library

As November ended, Hermione noticed that Harry and Ron were spending a lot of time together,
even more than normal. And Ron often looked very tired. Concerned about them, she spoke with Harry
who brushed it off easily, explaining that they were just hanging out more, trying to take
Ron's mind off of the coming full moon. The answer seemed logical enough, but there was still
something that did not quite seem right, but Hermione was very busy with her school work and going
over her research on Atlantis to make sure she hadn't missed any important clues.

On the eve of the full moon, it turned out that she was scheduled to do rounds, and therefore
would be unable to go with the others to the Room of Requirement where Ron would be given his
wolfsbane potion and allowed to spend the night. She felt very bad as she said goodbye as Ron and
Harry headed up the stairs to the seventh level. The pair met Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and
Snape inside the room.

Ron looked at the Professors again, pleading his case one final time. “Harry and I both know I
can control the transformation without the potion. I've done it before.”

“Mr. Weasley, I understand and sympathize, but it is simply too dangerous to be taking such
risks right now. We are looking into all sorts of different leads that might explain what happened
a month ago. But until we are certain, we cannot take the risk that you might harm either yourself
or someone else,” explained Dumbledore sadly.

“But I can't hurt anyone here in the Room of Requirement. The room itself can be set up to
protect…”

“That is enough Mr. Weasley. We have been through this same conversation a dozen times already.
Here is your potion, now drink up,” insisted Snape as he passed over a frothing goblet. Ron held it
for a moment as the bubbling increased for a moment and then drained the cup before handing it back
to Snape.

“Fine then. Are you going to tie me up like some stray dog then?”

“Of course not, Mr. Weasley. Please try and remember that we are only trying to help you,”
admonished Professor McGonagall.

“Don't worry Ron, it will all work out,” insisted Harry, punching Ron lightly in the
shoulder before following the professors who had already left out of the room, leaving Ron all
alone.

Ten minutes later and four floors below, Dumbledore made a comment over Snape's grumbling
directed towards Harry. “You have been very quiet this evening Harry. Up until tonight, you have
been very adamant about the need to attempt to control the transformation without the potion, but
you barely protested tonight…”

“The potion…” Snape suddenly stopped and Harry bumped into him, knocking his arm and causing the
goblet to fall from his grip. Harry made an awkward attempt to catch the goblet, but his grip
simply bumped the falling cup, sending it spinning to crash loudly on the stone floor. As the
goblet rolled on the flag tiles, what appeared to be a small, yellow marble rolled out of it.
Dumbledore and McGonagall turned to look at the commotion and Dumbledore's eyes widened. “Is
that a…”

“A moon pearl!” hissed Snape. If it was in the potion before Mr. Weasley drank it—the potion has
been neutralized. Moon pearls counter the effects of wolfsbane completely!” He then spun on Harry
angrily. “Potter! What have you done?! You're behind this somehow—when I gave Mr. Weasley the
potion, it began bubbling—you somehow slipped the pearl in his drink right before he took it! Of
all the stupid, foolhardy stunts to pull, I would never…”

“Harry! What's going on? Did you and Ron…” began Hermione as she came running up with one of
the Ravenclaw prefects trailing behind her. Hermione then stopped and whipped out her wand, her
eyes narrowing in fear and anger. “You're not Harry! Who are you and where is Harry?!” she
demanded, her wand aimed directly at Harry's heart.

Harry backed up a step, raised his arms up and then stumbled backwards, landing hard on his
seat. When he looked up again, he saw the angry and anxious faces of three of the most powerful
professors in the school as well as one very peeved witch.

“Neville Longbottom! What on earth are you doing? What have they done? Go on, spill it!”
commanded Hermione.

“They're fine. They're both in the Room of Requirement. Nobody would listen to them so
they decided they would provide a demonstration for you.”

“They don't know if they can control it, despite their claims otherwise,” snarled Snape.

“He can. I've seen him control it.” There was a surprised silence as Neville continued.
“They've been practicing in the Forbidden Forest. I saw Ron headed there late one night and I
followed because I was worried about him. He met with Harry and the twins and he practiced
transforming back and forth, I'm telling you he can control his werewolf form without a
potion,” explained Neville spiritedly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly as McGonagall rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Mr.
Longbottom, I'm not sure if that is one of the most foolish or one of the bravest choices you
have ever made…”

“He's certainly a Gryffindor, all heart and very little brain,” grumbled Snape, ignoring
Hermione's snort of indignation. “We still do not know whether he can control his shape under
the influence of the full moon however, when the urges of the wolf are strongest.”

“You are correct Severus, we should check on them immediately,” decided Dumbledore, and led the
small group back upstairs at a run. Dumbledore threw the doors of the Room of Requirement wide open
to a room bathed in soft light from a full moon visible in a large window on the wall. The room was
a wreck, claw marks everywhere indicated that the entire room had served as a huge scratching post
for the three large cats that were currently growling and hissing and rolling and wrestling on the
floor.

While Hermione and Dumbledore tried to maintain a stern look while watching the playful cats,
McGonagall roared out “ENOUGH!!” The largest cat, nearly twice the size of the other two, froze in
place with one paw on the throat of one of the smaller cats and his other paw in the middle of the
chest of the other. Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her, blinked, and then widened in shock.
“TRANSFORM!!” Before the eyes of everyone present, the three cats slowly turned into three red
headed and very red faced teenagers in shredded robes. “YOU TOO POTTER!” Suddenly, a second Harry
appeared right next to the first.

“All five of you will be serving a week's worth of detentions with me,” declared
McGonagall.

“But…” protested Ron.

“we were right!” added Harry.

“We don't even attend Hogwarts!” explained the twins in unison.

“I'm glad you were right, but nevertheless you took extremely dangerous and unnecessary
risks. If you had been wrong, you could have seriously injured or killed yourselves or some of the
other students here. As for you two, you can either serve your detentions or I can ask Molly to
think of a more appropriate punishment.”

“We'll see you for detention on Monday night, Professor,” affirmed George.

“Would you like us to bring anything to help pass the time? Sweets, chocolates, a dozen roses?”
offered Fred as McGonagall did her best to ignore him.

“And I believe I'll take a hundred points from Gryffindor, from each of the five,” added
Snape. “These rules were put in place to keep you safe, not for you to break when you didn't
agree with them.” Snape and McGonagall spent a moment glowering at the five humbled teens, and then
left the room.

“Professor, you know that we did the right thing,” insisted Harry.

“In the search for knowledge, it is sometimes difficult to draw the line between being overly
cautious and careful and risking stagnation or being too bold and daring and risking life and limb.
Your theories worked out well tonight, and I am extremely happy for all of you, especially you Mr.
Weasley. Professors McGonagall and Snape are as well, but they were very concerned and worried
about you as well which may explain their particular reactions. But never forget that older, far
wiser wizards than yourselves have taken similar risks and paid a very heavy price. I do not want
to keep you from challenging old ideas and pursuing new approaches, but I also hope you will be
more careful and thoughtful than you have been. You all have friends and family that would have
missed you very dearly if your hunches had been wrong tonight and one of you would have been
hurt.”

“What about the punishments?” asked Ron. “I mean, it's not fair, after all, we were right
and…”

“I am afraid that even as Headmaster, and especially as Headmaster of this school, I cannot
undermine the authority of my teachers. But let me ask you Ron, is not the knowledge you have
gained tonight, and the possible use it may have for others, worth losing a few points and spending
a few hours cleaning? There is nothing worth gaining that does not have a price, and the price of
knowledge can be high indeed, though it is often well worth it.” With a wave of his hand, he
restored the cushions, couches, and wall hangings that had been trashed by the wrestling cats and
then turned to leave. His eyes twinkling at the twins he added, “I assume the two of you can find
your own way out of the castle? And please, no sidetrips to the Slytherin dungeon on your way out.”
Turning to Ron, Hermione, and the two Harry's he said, “I hate to ask this of you yet again
Miss Granger, but if you could please make sure that these three make it back to their rooms and
don't get into any more trouble tonight, I would be very grateful. Good night.”

Hermione looked at Ron for a moment, than ran over to him and gave him a huge hug. “I'm so
happy for you, you big dopey idiot! You could have gotten hurt tonight, or hurt one of your
brothers, or…”

“I know, I'm sorry Hermione, but we *were* very careful. Harry and my brothers were
always there when I tried to control the transformation, just like the Marauders were with Remus.
It all worked out…”

“Well, I'm glad but…”

*“I know Mione. And I'm sorry too. I—I shouldn't have kept this from you,”* added
Harry as he stepped closer.

“*Why did you?”*

*“Well, you were very busy with all of your classes and your research on Atlantis and I knew
you wouldn't really approve of our `research' methods or* *experimental
`methodology.' I should have let you know about it—I'm sorry.”*

Looking at the twins, she added, “Well, I wouldn't expect any better from the two of you,”
she added with a small smile.

“Thank you Hermione,” replied Fred.

“We try to meet and exceed expectations,” added George.

“As for you Neville,” she said, turning towards him, “I was hoping that you would have more
influence on Ginny, and not the other way around.” Neville gulped loudly as he turned to face the
three Weasleys, who suddenly seemed very interested in him.

“What does she mean by that Neville?” demanded Ron.

“Ooooh, little Ginny's getting all grown up. Does she *looove* you Neville? Is she in
*looove* with you?” asked Fred.

“Details! Details!” shouted George.

“Shut it!” snapped Ron at Fred while he glared daggers at George.

“Fantastic! Christmas came early this year!” chuckled George as he rubbed his hands together
delightedly.

“I'm warning you two, this isn't funny. Ginny is our little sister and we have to
protect her from…”

“from boys like Neville?” laughed Fred.

“No offense, Neville,” said George.

“Uhh, none taken,” replied a slightly confused Neville, as he watched with Harry and Hermione as
yet another bizarre aspect of the internal dynamics of the Weasley family unfold before their very
eyes.

“We think Neville would be great for little Ginny,” added Fred.

“Look. Neville's fine, well he's OK, I mean he's great, but this is our sister
we're talking about and I think…”

“Uhh, thanks. I think,” said Neville, though nobody was talking to him.

“Actually, we think Neville might need protecting from Ginny,” snickered George.

“Yeah, he doesn't have any older brothers to protect him from the wiley wiles of a wiley
wittle witch wike Winny,” laughed Fred.

“This isn't a joking matter,” insisted Ron, his ears starting to turn bright red. “We have
to protect our family honor!”

“Hey!” protested Neville. “I'm not going to betray your family honor.” He turned to Harry
and Hermione and asked, “What are they talking about? I would never do anything to hurt Ginny in
any way. I'm in lommmfff,” finished Neville as Harry and Hermione's hands clamped over his
mouth quickly. None of the Weasleys were paying much attention to Harry, Hermione, or Neville since
Ron had tackled Fred and George had then jumped on top of him.

“I think you should say that to Ginny first, not to her rather thick headed brothers,” whispered
Hermione. She summoned their wands and put them in her pocket. “You know, for being born into a
wizarding family, I'm always surprised that they always think with their fists first. They
never start fights with their wands.”

Harry added, “It's probably for the better that way, don't you think? I think we'll
just let the three of them finish this little family discussion in private. Don't worry,
Neville, those two will help Ron see the light. If not, Hermione and I can always help.”

“Thanks guys, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, you're on your own with Ginny though. Can't help you there mate. Oww!”
yelped Harry as Hermione punched him.

“Come on, I can make sure that at least the two of you get back to Gryffindor Tower in one
piece. The left the three wrestling Weasleys and locked the Room of Requirement behind them.

*-*-*

“You missed a spot,” observed Hermione.

“You know, if you really wanted to help you could…”

“We are helping Harry. We're supervising,” explained Hermione as she turned back to her
book.

“What are you reading?” asked Luna, sitting down beside her.

“It's Lanci's *Applied Arithmancy: Everyday Uses for the Modern Witch.”*

“It's a very solid book. Her approach is very straightforward and coherent…”

“I agree, but I think Wilson's insights were much more profound, especially regarding…”

Ron looked up from his mop bucket and glanced over at Harry who was scrubbing one of the walls.
“Do you have any idea what they're talking about?”

“Vaguely. But most of my study has been on developing physical skills and learning spells to
defeat Dark wizards, not trying to bore them to death with arithmantic equations and the related
theories of numerology.”

Ron laughed until Luna shot him a glance.

“*I heard that* *Harry,”* warned Hermione.

“Well, at least they can talk about it with each other,” shrugged Ron.

“Hey! Would you two stop chatting with your girlfriends and get back to work? This place needs
to be clean by the time McGonagall checks back…”

“Or she's going tell Mum and let her deal with you two?” teased Ron.

“I can't believe you two are letting McGonagall blackmail you—you used to be my heroes,”
taunted Harry.

As the voices of the four wizards grew steadily louder, Luna flashed Hermione an exasperated
look while Hermione shook her head in resignation.

While the wizards were distracted, Hermione looked at her sympathetically and asked her “How are
you doing Luna?”

“I'm doing as well as can be expected. It's been tough and there hasn't really been
anybody to talk to, but…”

“Luna, I know we've had some differences in the past, but I would like to put that behind
us. I would be happy to talk to you anytime you want about anything you would like.”

“Even the theoretical underpinnings of Arithmancy and Numerology?” smirked Luna.

“I would *love* to have a deep intellectual discussion with somebody about anything other
than the odds of the Chudley Cannons having a winning season or who's going to be selected for
the next national team.” Rolling her eyes at the arguing wizards who were now sending wet sponges
flying around the room at each other, Hermione finished. “You can see the maturity level of the
companions I have had for the last six years.”

Luna just laughed.

*-*-*

At the end of the week, McGonagall let them out of detention early so that they could get ready
for the Durmstrang match along with the rest of the students who were going for the weekend. Later
that evening, they arrived at Durmstrang castle, thanks to the portkey Dumbledore had created for
the students.

Durmstrang castle itself stood on top of a windswept mountain amidst several feet of snow. When
the Hogwarts students arrived, they rushed through the outer gates and courtyard and hurried to get
inside the slightly warmer confines of the castle walls. A huge welcoming feast was awaiting them
and they quickly sat down to the warm food. While they were eating, a figure from the head table
walked over to where Harry and his friends were sitting enjoying the wonderful spread.

“Hello, Herminny. Hello, Harry. It is good to see you both again.”

They both looked up at Viktor Krum.

“Hello Viktor,” they replied.

“How are you doing? And what are you doing here?” asked Hermione.

“I am doing very well, thank you. I am playing for the Baarnlang Hawkers. But I am here helping
my alma mater win the Tri-school Quidditch match. They have asked me to coach the Durmstrang
team.”

Harry and Ron looked closely at him while Hermione congratulated him. Bowing to Hermione, Krum
added, “You are a very lucky young man, Harry Potter.” He then turned towards Harry. “But I'm
afraid your luck will run out tomorrow on the Quidditch pitch.” Then he turned back to Hermione.
“Good night Herminny. Boys,” then he turned and left.

Ron looked at Harry and silently mouthed “What a git!” while Hermione watched him head back up
to the head table.

“See, Ron, I told you that the Tri-Wizard cup was a good way to strengthen international ties
and build friendships.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Ron while he rolled his eyes at Harry. “Let's go Harry. We need to get a
good night's sleep before the match tomorrow.”

“But Harry, there will be tours of the castle and its grounds as well as a special magical
demonstration later by some of Durmstrang's best duelers. Don't you want to see it?”

“You go ahead, Mione. I'm beat. I'll see you in the morning. Besides, I've already
seen most of what Durmstrang has to offer—you'll like their library, Mione. It's one of the
biggest on the continent, and has a few more books on Dark Arts than at Hogwarts, though
they're in the Restricted Section and the librarian has a temper that makes Madame Pince look
like a girl scout. As far as their duelers, I've watched them practice and any one of our
7th year DA students could easily hold their own, and most of our students would
win.”

“What?! How?!” sputtered Hermione.

“I was pretty busy last year as you recall. Some of the books I needed to consult don't
exist anywhere in England, so I had to expand my search. I made several research trips here to
Durmstrang. Good night.”

*-*-*

The next morning, Harry and the rest of the team walked out of the locker rooms into a bitterly
cold wind whipping heavy snowflakes everywhere.

“Are you kidding me?!” exclaimed Ron. “How are we supposed to play in these conditions? You
can't even see twenty feet in front of you.”

To his side chuckled Viktor Krum. “Welcome to Durmstrang. It appears to be a perfect day for
flying here.”

Ron looked after Krum and then turned to Harry. “You know Harry, I don't think he's too
happy that you ended up with Hermione. If he's been training this team, I'd watch your back
up there.”

In the middle of the field amidst the swirling snow, the referee introduced the two teams. Ron
elbowed Harry. “Bloody hell!” he muttered to Harry, “Is this a Quidditch team or an American
foosball team?”

“A football team?” asked Harry for clarification.

“Yeah, whatever. Those guys are huge. They can't all be students from Durmstraang, Krum must
have brought in a few ringers from his team or something.”

When the Durmstrang Seeker was introduced, Ron's jaw dropped. He towered four inches above
Ron and easily carried another fifty pounds and Ron was the largest player on the Gryffindor team.
Ron turned to Harry. “He's got to be part giant. There's no other possible explanation. I
think I'll put Malfoy in today for you.”

“What?!” exploded Harry.

“I guarantee he's not in the game to catch the Snitch. He's in the game to pound you
into mush. That is if they've actually found a broom big enough for him to sit on. Believe me,
I'd rather have Malfoy ground into powder than you mate.”

“Thanks, but I can take him Ron.”

“Hermione's going to kill me for letting you play when she has to scrape up what's left
of you off the pitch later.”

“I said don't worry about it Ron—it won't be a problem.”

Five minutes later, the referee blew the whistle and the balls quickly disappeared into the
blinding snow.

From the very beginning, Ron's words proved prophetic. The Seeker Harry was matched up
against weighed more than twice what Harry did, and spent the first twenty minutes leaning,
bumping, shoving, elbowing, gouging, and punching Harry everywhere he went. Harry lost track of the
number of fouls and realized one was never going to be called. The low visibility meant that none
of the fouls would ever be witnessed by the referee. Harry knew he was going to be black and blue
for probably a week after this match.

Thirty minutes into the match, it became very obvious that Durmstrang held a tremendous
advantage because they were used to flying in this type of weather. They had also put together an
excellent team for this type of weather. Their beaters were solid and their chasers had excellent
vision and had played together for years. They did nothing fancy, but with their superior size and
strength, simply out muscled their opponents in nearly every position. The most lopsided matchup
was at the Seeker position. The Durmstrang Seeker simply refused to let Harry break loose and fly
free. Ron finally called a timeout.

“We're down 150-40. Another ten minutes and it won't matter if we catch the Snitch,
we'll be too far behind for it to matter. We're going to have to shake up our lineup a
little bit if we're going to have a chance at pulling this out. This is what we're going to
do. We're going to keep the same Beaters. Stenton, you're coming in for me at Keeper. Gin,
Malfoy you two are the Chasers. Harry, you're going to be the third Chaser. I'll take the
Seeker spot.”

“What?!” exploded about half the team, including Harry, Draco, and Ginny.

“Hear me out. We need to buy ourselves some time. Have you even seen the Snitch yet Harry?”

“No,” he admitted.

“We're going to buy you some time. We need to slow down their scoring and try and pick up a
few points for ourselves. And I'm going to wear down their Seeker so that when we switch later
Harry you'll have a better chance of finding the Snitch.” Ron glanced around to make sure they
understood his strategy so far. “Now the rules say that no player can carry the Quaffle longer than
five minutes before he or she has to pass it. We're going to use that to our advantage. Harry,
I want you to take the Quaffle and just fly off with it. Set your watch and don't give it up
until four and a half minutes have passed. Pass it to either Malfoy or Gin who will do the same
thing. The two Chasers without the Quaffle will fly interference. Whatever you do, keep the Quaffle
out of their hands and don't turn it over. If you can make a sure goal, one where you are one
on one with the Keeper within ten feet, take the shot. We'll take our chances on forcing a
turnover, but we can't fall any further behind. I'll work on the other Seeker and try to
wear him down a bit. If I see the Snitch, I'll go for it. Harry, if you see the Snitch, you
yell `Switch!' and go get it. I'll inform the referee of the changes we're making and
that we will be switching later during the game. Any questions? Good. Let's go.”

Half an hour later, Ron's strategy was beginning to pay off. Hogwarts had closed the gap to
150-70 and several of the Durmstrang players were beginning to get frustrated. Ten minutes later
the Hogwarts team had scored another goal and two bonus goals they were awarded on blatant fouls on
the Chasers in front of the referee. Only fifty points separated the two teams.

Harry caught a glance of Ron and the other Seeker through the whipping snow. Harry winced as he
saw Ron duck a punch thrown by the other Seeker and then smiled grimly as Ron threw an elbow that
landed solidly and rocked the Durmstrang Seeker's head back. Then the snow obscured the ongoing
battle again. Harry was glad he wasn't the only one who would have bruises for the next week.
Ginny passed him the Quaffle and he dived hard towards the ground, easily dodging the opposing
Durmstrang players. They were big and strong, but they were not as quick or agile as Draco, Ginny,
or Harry, and couldn't keep up with them. As Harry rolled back to the right to put more space
between him and the pursuing Durmstrang players, he spotted a glimpse of gold. “Switch!” he yelled
as loud as he could and tossed the ball over to Ginny. His entire focus narrowed to the Snitch
itself. He dodged right in pursuit of it through the blinding snow as a Bludger sailed at him,
barely grazing his left arm. Plunging forward recklessly, he was determined not to lose sight of
the zooming Snitch. Fighting the wind and blinding snow, Harry slowly gained on the Snitch until at
last he could stretch out his hand and grab it within his hand. He waited for the announcement by
the referee and then ducked as another Bludger nearly took off his head. He then soared upward,
heading towards the last place he had seen the referee. Suddenly he was nearly knocked from his
broom as Ron and the other Seeker crashed into him. The other Seeker saw the tiny wings fluttering
in Harry's fist and reached to grab it, but Ron's hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him
away. He tried to pull away, but Ron's grip was too strong. As Harry tried to break loose from
the tangle, the Durmstrang Seeker's flying elbow caught him right below his left eye and he saw
nothing but stars and then blackness.

As he shook his head a moment later he realized he was in freefall, plummeting towards the
ground at an increasing rate of speed. He closed his hand tighter around the Snitch, reassured that
it was still in his grip and stretched out his other hand to summon his Firebolt. A moment later it
slid into his grip and he rolled to land on top of it and control his descent. He nearly hit the
referee as he swooped down over the Durmstrang goalposts, who immediately began blowing his whistle
when he saw Harry raise his fist triumphantly. Amazingly, he could hear the whistle above the roar
of the blasting winds. As the teams descended to the ground, they quickly headed for the locker
rooms to begin the process of thawing out.

The afternoon feast was somewhat subdued, the Durmstrang students were shocked at their loss,
and the Hogwarts students were wisely choosing not to rub it in. After the meal, they happily
touched the portkey and returned to Hogwarts to begin their celebrations. After Madame Pomfrey had
looked over their various injuries, she allowed the Quidditch team to rejoin their celebrating
classmates. Harry and Ron were the last ones to enter the Great Hall, both walking very stiffly as
the surge of adrenaline wore off and their various bruises and aching muscles began to hurt.

Though very happy to win, both were extremely exhausted from the grueling match, as were their
teammates. After an hour, Ron stood up slowly and announced he was going to go soak in a hot bath
for a while. As he turned to go, Hermione stopped him with a thought.

“*Wait Ron. I* *think I**'ve got a better idea*.” She glanced at Luna for a
moment, who grinned and nodded. She then glanced over at Neville and then down the table at
Gabrielle. “*Harry? Bring Ron, Ginny, and Draco* *up to the Room of Requirement in five
minutes. I have a surprise for all of you. You can teleport there if you don't feel like
climbing the stairs.”*

*“What's this all about? What's going…”*

*“Just trust me. I'll see you in five.”*

Harry nodded, and five minutes later the four were making their excuses and left the Great Hall.
Harry then teleported them just outside the Room of Requirement and then walked towards the door.
Before he could open it, the door opened and out poured a cloud of steam.

“Come on in, you're letting all the warm air out,” came Hermione's voice from
inside.

In confusion, the four battered Quidditch players stepped into the hot, humid room onto what
felt like warm tiles.

“What the…” started Harry. Whereas normally the room was filled with books on the Dark Arts and
various equipment to practice dueling, now there was a wooden bench on two walls with a huge,
steaming pool of water in the middle of the room. And floating effortlessly in the middle of the
pool was Hermione in a blue, one piece swimsuit.

“Hermione, this is brilliant!” shouted Ron. “But I need some trunks to…”

“Here you go,” came a soft voice from behind him as a piece of cloth hit him in the back of the
head. “The changing rooms are over there,” indicated Luna with a toss of her long blonde locks. Ron
watched in amazement as she then took two running steps and executed a flawless dive into the pool,
finally surfacing two thirds the length of the pool away.

“If you can put your eyeballs back into your head, maybe you could go and join her,” snickered
Ginny. Ron then headed towards the pool before Ginny caught his arm. “Go put some trunks on first,”
and pulled him back towards the changing rooms. “I hope you made a two piece for me,” she called
out teasingly, and laughed when Ron's cheeks blushed bright red.

“Ginny,” he started.

“Relax Ron. Modest swimsuits for everyone. It seems even the Room of Requirements has certain
limits,” called out Hermione.

“Hurry up Draco,” came another musical voice from behind Harry and Draco. “I hear the water is
perfect,” purred Gabrielle as she sauntered between them and then stepped daintily into the
pool.

“You better not be watching Potter,” growled Draco.

“I wasn't.”

“*I wasn't**!**”* He heard Hermione laugh.

“*What's keeping you Harry?”*

Harry grinned and with a wave of his hand, transformed his clothes into a set of long blue
swimming trunks. Then he ran for the pool and jumping high, curled into a ball in order to
cannonball heavily into the water. He gave his entry an extra push of magic as he hit the water,
and sent gallons of water flying around the room, soaking everyone not already in the pool or in
one of the changing rooms.

When Harry came up for air, someone's hand immediately pushed him back down again. He
grabbed the wrist and then pulled Hermione down into the water as well. Then they both surfaced
again gasping for air. With a huge grin, he surveyed his handiwork. Draco was soaked and muttering
under his breath as he headed to change, but everyone else was laughing, except Gabrielle who
didn't appear to be pleased that her hair had gotten all wet.

“Ron was right Mione. This was a fantastic idea. But what I could really use is a neckrub. Did
you see the size of that gorilla I had to fly against today?”

“Yes. Professor McGonagall and I created a magical box around the Hogwarts section that kept out
the cold and wind. Then Dumbledore created a screen that allowed us to watch the match without the
snow blocking out everything. I don't know how you guys could play in that weather. That was
the worst weather for a Quidditch match I have ever seen. And that was about the most brutal
exhibition I have ever seen. You guys are really lucky nobody was seriously injured.”

“Yeah, but we won. That's all that matters.”

Hermione resisted the urge to continue discussing her views on it and instead pushed Harry over
to the side where he rested his arms and chin on the side while she began rubbing his neck and
shoulder muscles. He muttered “Ahhh,” and began to melt under her massaging fingers. A few minutes
later and Ron, Draco, and Ginny had begged their girlfriends or boyfriend to give them backrubs as
well.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron was snoring loudly while the other Quidditch players were sound
asleep as well. Hermione snorted in mock disgust. “What a load of fun they turned out to be!”

“Hmmmph,” snorted Luna. “I guess the only question is whether or not we prank them before we
tuck them in for a good night's sleep.”

Neville's eyes lit up mischievously. “Well, there was a new powder that the twins gave to
Ginny for her to try out on some of the students at school. This seems like as good a time as any,
right?”

Hermione laughed. “She is having a terrible influence on you Neville. You do realize she'll
try and get you back, don't you?”

“She doesn't really scare me that much. The twins have given me a few prank items and told
me a few family secrets to help keep her in line,” he chuckled. “Don't worry about me, I can
hold my own with her.”

Luna giggled. “What ever happened to our sweet, innocent Neville?”

“He met the Weasleys and had to grow up fast,” chuckled Hermione.

*-*-*

The next morning at breakfast, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Ron were laughing and eating
with their roommates in the Great Hall when there were three soft pops at the table and a soft pop
heard over at the Slytherin table. Harry looked up and began laughing when he saw the Weasleys.
Both of their heads had shrunk to the size of tennis balls. It was like looking at two normally
robed students, but there was a bright mop of red hair on one, and very long red hair bouncing
around in a ponytail on the shoulders of the other. Harry suddenly stopped laughing when he
realized the high pitched squeaking he heard was the sound of him laughing. When he saw his
classmates looking at him in horror and noticed Hermione's decidedly expressionless face, he
screamed in a very high pitched wail. “Mione! What did you do?!”

At the sound of his voice, the entire table burst into laughter. He looked over at the Slytherin
table and saw one student who was a head shorter than everyone else but had short spiky blond hair
apparently growing out of his shoulders. Ron and Ginny realized what had happened and began yelling
and screaming in their own high pitched voices, making everyone laugh even harder.

Later that afternoon, when the Twins' *Shrinking Head Powder* had worn off, Harry
cornered Hermione to inquire about her involvement.

“Actually, it was probably a good thing Harry. Some of us were worried that you all might be
getting a big head after your victory yesterday,” she smirked.

“Ha ha, big head. Very funny. But I guess you're right. But I never got to thank you
properly for the back rub yesterday. So thank you.” He bent down to kiss her on the lips.

“You're welc…” murmured Hermione as he kissed her. “Mmmmaaaaahhh! By blipps! By blipps!” she
screamed as her lips began to swell as Harry kissed her.

“Oh my! Terribly sorry about that, Mione. I must have forgotten to spit out that *Big Kiss*
*Bubblegum* I was chewing earlier. I wish I could remember the counterjinx for that one. Well,
I'm sure it will wear off in time for dinner—tomorrow!”

“Berry Bopper!” yelled Hermione through her enormous lips, but he had already disappeared.

When all five met at the Gryffindor table the next morning, Harry started chuckling when he
noticed everyone had brought their own food directly from the kitchens. Nor would anybody else from
Gryffindor sit right by them—apparently they were all worried about getting caught in the crossfire
of another prank war. Harry grinned as he admired the handiwork of the Twins evident in his
classmates. Hermione's lips were still huge and her ears were now decidedly elflike with large,
pointy tips. Ron's face was hard to watch for very long, because it was constantly changing
colours, like an out of control kaleidoscope. Ginny had bat wings growing out of the back of her
shoulders and horse hooves for feet, which she kept using to try and kick people. Ron was sporting
the Cyclops look, with one large eye centered right in the middle of his forehead. Unfortunately,
someone had also replaced his arms with octopus tentacles, which were constantly flailing around.
Neville didn't even need his arms, which was lucky, they had been turned into fish fins. He
simply opened his mouth and his frog-like tongue shot out to grab whatever he wanted to eat. Harry
heard a squishy sort of sound followed by a clunking noise and turned his head slowly and
carefully, his own nose was now about three feet long, and painfully sensitive of bumping into
things. He saw Luna squish up, which was the only way to describe her movement, since it appeared
all of her bones had been removed and her body now resembled animated rubber. She sat down very
carefully to avoid bouncing back out of it. Gabrielle clunked over as well, she appeared to be a
carved wooden puppet without strings. At least, Harry was pretty sure it was her, since she had no
face—it looked like an uncarved piece of wood. Draco stalked over to the table as well. He appeared
the most normal of the eight, except for the fact that he was completely bald and kept scratching
himself. It was only when he opened his mouth that one could detect the various curses he had been
hit with.

“Ok, I think—I love Gryffindors!—this has gone on long enough.—Slytherins are slimeballs!—I
think we should just call a truce now and forget about who did what—If only I had the courage to be
a Gryffindor!—to whom. If we keep this up—Gryffindors rule! Hufflepuff is cool! Ravenclaws are
bright! Slytherins run in fright!—oh, when I get my hands on those two idiotic Weasleys…”

“Baco's bight. I cab bonounce bells wib by libs bike bis,” complained Hermione.

“When I find the twins, I'm going to give them a swift kick in the…” threatened Ginny.

“Is that a plea for help dear sister?” asked Fred as he swept into the Great Hall.

“Nah, it sounded more like a plea for the full dose of the *Bedeviled M**oisturizing*
*C**ream.”*

“It looks like it's lucky she didn't put any on as a…”

“Face cream—what an excellent idea Fred!” and George whipped out a clipboard and started taking
down notes.

“Whab are boo too dobing heh?” asked Hermione.

“Well, Dumbledore told us there was some sort of weird outbreak of pranking jinxes…”

“and he decided to call in some experts to help solve the problem.”

“You pair of idiots *are* the problem here.”

“Hmmm. Judging by one-eye over yhere, I would say that the *Octopus noodles* should not be
eaten with our *One-eyed peas.* Yes, it seems to have made his temper worse—and I didn't
think that was possible.”

“It does look like the *Gryffindor Lover Lozenges* were a big hit though. Thanks for
demonstrating Ferret.”

“And look, two various effects of the *Pinnochio paste.* Hmm, if we could somehow combine
them…”

“If you two are through, can you just undo the effects, or do I have to?” bubbled Harry, since
as he spoke, bubbles came out of his mouth and his voice was only heard as each bubble then
popped.

“Excellent Harry. The *Bubblespeak Bubblegum* worked like a charm—er, no pun intended. But
you realize that as an investor and partner, we need to carefully document all of the effects that
occur during these test trials,” explained George as he scribbled madly on his clipboard. “We
wouldn't want innocent victims injured because our research wasn't thorough enough.”

“Oh sod off you two—How I love Gryffindors! Let me count the ways!” Everyone at the Gryffindor
table, as well as the tables of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw began laughing as Draco sang four verses
to the Great Hall extolling the virtues of Gryffindor house.

Wiping the tears from their eyes, Fred and George began muttering the counterjinxes once Draco
was done serenading the Gryffindors.

“*Harry, you knew the counterjinxes to these curses and you didn't…”*

*“Hey, I thought it was all in good fun. I was going to break the curses after breakfast today
anyways if the twins hadn't shown up. Besides, I think we should think of something to do to
the twins now.”*

*“I think I've had all the pranking I can stand for a couple of months, Harry.”*

Once everyone was back to normal, Harry announced, “I am willing to agree to a pranking truce in
Hogwarts if the rest of you are…” Hands and voices indicated the sentiment was unanimous among the
friends.

George turned to Fred, “Maybe we should have left them like…”

“Oh shut it you two and grab some breakfast,” ordered Hermione.

And the Weasley twins, never ashamed to take food freely offered, did exactly that.

*-*-*

Once the prank wars were over, Harry and Hermione spent the next few days working feverishly on
their school assignments, trying to get ahead so they wouldn't fall behind when they went to
Egypt a week before the Christmas holidays were to begin. When the day for them to leave arrived,
Harry and Hermione used a portkey to travel to the outskirts of Alexandria just after dark.

*“Harry, are you sure all of this was necessary? We could have just flooed into* *the*
*wizarding hotel—now we have to hope that the Egyptian* *Medjai* *don't detect your
illegal portkey* *and send someone to investigate**.**”*

*“Don't worry Mione. They won't. But just to be safe, you* *should* *stay
disillusioned and I'll stay invisible while we fly over Alexandria towards the East
Harbor.”*

They both transformed, Hermione into a beautiful owl and Harry into his small dragon form, and
took to the skies above the sprawling city of Alexandria. It was a beautiful night, clear and cool
and perfect for flying. They flew steadily over the various sections of the city, working their way
northeast, towards where the growing metropolis ran up against the beautiful waters of the
Mediterranean. The shapely and graceful minarets of the hundreds of Muslim mosques added beauty and
variety to the skyline above the city. The sounds of people laughing and talking in the streets
mingled with the aromas of grilling meat and savory dishes.

“*We would have to get here about dinner time, wouldn't we?”* grumbled Harry as his
stomach rumbled.

Hermione chuckled, which sounded very odd coming from an owl. *“**There's the
beachfront of the East Harbor. Our hotel should be three blocks from the main
th**o**roughfare that runs along the shore. Why don't we land over there in that
alley, grab a bite to eat and make sure that they have our rooms ready.”*

“*Sounds great.”* Harry checked the alley first, and satisfied that they were alone, told
Hermione it was safe to land. Hermione quickly sipped an aging potion, which made her old enough to
be Harry's aunt. Harry changed his appearance to that of a twelve or thirteen year old boy with
curly brown hair and grey eyes. He quickly created several suitcases which he carried to the street
where they hailed a cab to take them to the hotel where Harry had made reservations.

Hermione took charge at the front desk, speaking with the manager without a hint of her British
accent.

“Ahh, Ms. Fraley. This must be your nephew Thomas? I hope you enjoyed your flight from New
York…”

“It was long, but thankfully uneventful. We slept for most of it. I believe we'll just drop
off our things and then go grab a bite somewhere. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Well, there is always the house restaurant…”

“Of course, but I was hoping to help Thomas see the real Alexandria, take him off the beaten
path away from all of the usual tourist traps…”

“Of course Ms. Fraley. There are several small outdoor restaurants just down the street that
offer some of the best food Alexandria has to offer, seafood, grilled kabobs, and falafel. Simply
take a left out of the front doors—you can't miss them, they'll be the ones with all of the
locals crowded around their outdoor tables.”

“Thank you very much,” finished Hermione, and slipped him a generous tip. Ten minutes later,
they had dropped off their bags in their separate rooms, created some clothes to put in some of the
drawers, and met to plan their next step.

“Why don't we grab some food and head on over to the beach where we'll have to begin
searching?” suggested Harry.

“Sounds great,” replied Hermione.

Half an hour later, they were walking along the beach, heading slowly northwest. Holding her
hand towards the water, Hermione explained quietly, “*That's the Buchion, or the palace
quarter that existed in ancient Alexandria. Alexandria itself was founded in 331 BC by Alexander
the Great while he was here. After his death in 323 BC, one of his generals, Ptolemy I took control
of Egypt. His descendents would rule until Cleopatra VII was defeated by Augustus Caesar in 30 AD.
The Great Library was founded by Ptolemy's son as part of the Museum, which was near the
palaces of the monarchs. Its aim was to preserve every work of Greek literature and eventually
every manuscript it could get its hands on. At its height, the Library was said to have contained
over half a million scrolls—most of them now lost to the Muggle world. Rumors within the Wizarding
world hinted that there was a similar type of library created by Wizards here, hidden in the shadow
of the Great Library. Though nobody knows exactly where it was, almost all historians agree that
the palace quarter, the Buchion, lies now beneath the waves of this harbor in front of us. A number
of earthquakes during the Medieval period toppled parts of the city and caused them to fall into
the ocean. See out there, that darker shadow above the horizon?”*

With his excellent vision, Harry easily found the spot she indicated. “*It looks like a fort
or a castle of some sort…”*

*“It is Fort Qaitbay, it was built in 1480 by the Muslims who had conquered Northern Africa.
It was supposedly built on the ruins of the Pharos of Alexandria.”*

*“The Pharos…”*

*“It was an ancient lighthouse* *that towered over the seas to guide sailors safely into
these dangerous harbors. It was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.”*

Harry looked around over the waters. “*So it's supposed to be under these waters
somewhere, huh? Any idea where we should start looking?”*

Hermione looked thoughtfully at the waves lapping up on the shore.

“*I wish Dumbledore could have just told us where it was, or better yet, made a portkey to
take us right there…”* complained Harry.

“*You know he couldn't, Harry.”*

*“I know, I know…”* muttered Harry. “*Anyone looking?”* he asked as he glanced around.
He pulled out his wand and cast a *Disillusionment* charm on Hermione and made himself
invisible. They walked to the shore and then cast Bubble head charms before stepping into the
sea.

“Brrrr,” chattered Hermione.

“*What are you talking about? This is so much warmer than* *the lake at Hogwarts,”*
laughed Harry.

Fifteen minutes later, they were perhaps half a mile from where their search had started,
searching very slowly with the pale light provided by Hermione's illuminated wand.

“*Do you have any idea what we're searching for, Mione? All I've seen is lots of sand
and* *broken* *rocks. Are we looking for a wall, or a set of columns, or a doorway or
what?”*

*“I'm not sure exactly Harry, but if you see any hieroglyphics or anything that looks like
writing on any blocks or anything, let me know. You might be able to sense something, I imagine
that the Library must have some pretty powerful enchantments on it for it to have survived, though
it is probably unplottable.”*

*“All right then, I'll just…Mione?”* Harry looked around quickly as Hermione increased
the intensity of the light, thinking maybe she had found something. Expecting a large building or
ruin to emerge from the inky blackness, Harry was surprised to see several dark shapes stirring in
the water. “*What are they Mione?”*

*“I don't know, they have no name for themselves, it's as if they have no sense of
identity.”*

*“**Could these be the guardians? B**ut I thought Dumbledore said there was only one
guardian…”* Harry's look grew more concerned as he realized they were completely surrounded
by the approaching figures, who were moving very rapidly towards the pair. As they got closer, he
realized they looked like mossy boulders with long, powerful limbs. Though they appeared to shuffle
awkwardly as they moved, he could tell they moved through the water much more quickly than either
Hermione or himself, despite the fact that they had both shed their robes for snug fitting rubber
suits like surfers would wear that had been magically enhanced by the twins to allow them free
movement underwater.

“*Any ideas about how we're supposed to get past them Mione? Are we supposed to answer a
riddle or do we have to defeat one of them or…”*

*“Let me try talking to them, I'm sure we're not supposed to fight them. We came here
to study after all…”* Hermione focused intently while Harry slowly drew his wand, watching and
counting as the rock-like creatures came closer and closer, making what Harry felt to be a quickly
tightening noose.

He moved closer to Hermione, close enough to grab her arm and teleport if they needed, when
suddenly, as if by an unspoken command the thirty humanoids drew a variety of weapons
simultaneously.

“*Harry, I don't think they'll attack, they're just trying to defend something,
trying to prevent something from happening by—WATCH OUT!”* She felt Harry's hand on her
shoulder and they disappeared as nearly twenty short spears came flying at them much faster than
one would have expected underwater. She heard Harry whisper “*Nox!”* and then he teleported
them again.

“*Can you see them Mione? You should be able to, they're warm-blooded.”*

*“Yes.”*

*“Then we stay in the dark for now, we don't know if they can see us as well, though they
probably can. If we need to, we'll cast a Flare charm and blind them for a moment. If we can
get past them without fighting, that would be best. Did you see anything they might have been
guarding—an entrance or anything that appeared important?”*

*“That's just it—there was nothing unless it's buried in the sand.”*

*“Then we move away from them and search elsewhere—we'll avoid them if we can.”*

Harry led her slowly around in a large arc but minutes later realized the shapes were closing in
again. Harry concentrated briefly and tried to camouflage them thermally, trying to make their body
temperatures appear the same as the water around them, but they still moved closer. “*I don't
know how they're tracking us, but we've got no choice* *but* *to fight
Mione.”*

*“Well, let's try to stun them first. I don't think the guardians of the Great Library
actually expect to be killed by those seeking admittance.**”*

Harry grunted with grudging acceptance. Anticipating another launch of short spears, Harry
teleported them behind two of the creatures. He and Hermione both shouted out “*Stupefy!”*
within their Bubble Head charms, but the spells bounced harmlessly off the heavily scaled skin of
the two humanoids. They turned much faster than Harry anticipated and one launched a small trident
at Hermione. Harry managed to teleport in front of Hermione and push her out of harm's way as
the trident from the second boulder-like figure nearly gutted him, but he twisted at the last
second and it merely sliced his side instead of his entire abdomen. Blood spurted out and quickly
floated away with the current as Harry reflexively clamped a hand on the open wound. There was a
sudden flash of purple light and the two crablike men flew backwards through the water, hit by a
powerful spell from a very angry witch.

Harry kneeled on the sand, his left hand covering his bleeding wound, his face screwed up with
intense concentration. Hermione watched in awe for a moment as a huge bubble appeared between
herself and Harry and slowly grew in size. Realizing what Harry was doing, she watched the bubble
of air slowly push back the sea water away from the two. At the edge, as she suspected, waited the
scaly crabmen, seemingly unsure of how to attack. Several launched short spears, but when the
spears left the water and entered the air bubble Harry had created, their trajectory altered
significantly, and they fell short, as if they weren't created to be thrown through a thinner
atmosphere.

“*Now Mione. They will kill us once they figure out a way past the air bubble and I can't
hold it indefinitely.”*

Hermione nodded grimly and began casting much more powerful curses than a Stunner, looking for a
weakness in their magically resistant rock-hard scaly skin. After the second one fell, she relayed
to Harry “*Their necks at the base of the throat are weak**. So are* *their eye
sockets.”*

On her right side, she saw a number of bubbles began rising rapidly around a number of the
crablike men. She quickly shut out their screams of pain as they quickly boiled to death. To her
left, she saw a number of the crablike creatures cross the barrier and enter the air bubble, where
their run slowed quickly to an agonizing walk. She saw the gills on the cheeks of one flapping open
and shut rapidly, as if he were suffocating.

“*Solaris inflammis!”* screamed Harry beside her as she quickly closed her eyes
tightly.

Hermione turned again to cover Harry's back and partly to be able to avoid having to watch
the agonizing death of the confused and blinded creatures who were slowly suffocating to death in
the air bubble. In front of her, the half dozen creatures did not dare cross the deadly barrier of
air, but their short spears were coming closer and closer to Harry and Hermione. “*How many more
do you have Harry?”*

*“Three or four. You?”*

*“Six. And their spears are coming closer—they've just about got the range.”*

*“We need to split up to finish them off. They're faster than we are, but we might be able
to surprise them. Besides, I can't hold this bubble much longer.* *I'll take your six
and…”*

*“I'll take them Harry. You've got a bad* *side**, remember?”*

*“Can you do it alone?”*

*“Trust me Harry. Besides, I have* *Saldar with me.”*

*“Fine. Let's do it. Quick, easy movements—nothing fancy. And don't hold back Mione
because they won't. I'll be back to help as soon as I can.”* Then Harry let the bubble
collapse and teleported Hermione and himself behind the six throwing short spears. The shock of the
water filling the vacuum he had created threw the creatures off balance momentarily, allowing Harry
and Hermione to each stab one fatally before Harry disappeared to fight the remaining crab men
twenty-five feet away.

Relying upon Saldar's help to parry with the Sword of Gryffindor, Hermione had transformed
her own wand into a short thin stabbing sword which quickly found the throat of a third monster.
Raise, parry, thrust, counterthrust, block, stab—Hermione quickly found herself falling into a
trancelike state like those she often entered when she was sparring with Harry during their morning
practice sessions. While she was completely focused on the swordplay, she was at the same time
perfectly patient, waiting for any weakness or opportunity given her by her enemies. And when it
presented itself, she took full advantage with a singleminded ruthlessness. In the back of her mind
she knew that she had tried to communicate with these creatures to work things out peacefully and
they had tried to kill her and Harry—and were still trying to do so.

Meanwhile, Harry's method of attack resembled that of a berserker. With blood still seeping
from his side, he was worried that Hermione might get hurt or worse before he dispatched the
remaining crabmen he faced. Using a combination of violent stabbing attacks, blinding and tripping
jinxes, Harry made fairly quick work of his three opponents. With a wry smile, he realized that he
would have been disqualified for at least fifteen different violations had this been a dueling
match. But then again, three on one was rarely considered a fair fight, which reminded him of
Hermione's predicament. Reappearing a moment later, he found her stepping on the chest of her
last opponent, pulling both of her swords from his body. Looking up, she asked innocently, “*What
took you so long—you only had three.”*

Harry smiled thinly as he pressed harder on his side. Hermione's grin quickly faded and she
stepped closer to him to look at the wound. Transforming her sword back into a wand, she explained
to Harry “*I can stop the bleeding, but not much more than that. It's too deep for me to*
*try and close magically, we should probably head back to Alexandria and find a Medi-Wizard.
Besides, you look beat, you could probably use some rest after all that.”*

*“If I get medical help, they'll have to report it to the Egyptian* *Medjai*
*and the Egyptian Council. We're not even supposed to be here, remember? Stop the bleeding
and I'll promise to walk slow.”*

Hermione began to argue and then realized Harry had made up his mind and there was no changing
it. She muttered the incantation and the blood flow stopped.

“*Which way now?”* he asked as he put an arm around her shoulders tiredly.

Hermione shrugged and pointed vaguely to the northwest. Forty-five minutes later they had
crisscossed the harbor twice and were heading southeast back towards the shore where they had
started when they both saw it—a huge stone patio on the floor of the ocean. There were large blocks
that were the remains of a wall surrounding it. Hermione moved quickly to them and excitedly began
interpreting for Harry the meaning of the inscriptions and hieroglyphics she found there.

“*This is it Harry. We're very close now. This is the Temple of the Muses, the Museum. It
was built shortly before the Great Library. Some think the Great Library was connected to the
Museum or was built very close to it.”*

Broadening their search, they found the remains of another small building about fifteen feet
away. As they walked slowly around the perimeter of the ruined walls, they saw a toppled statue of
what appeared to be an owl. There appeared to be some sort of inscription carved into the base of
the owl which glowed faintly in silver.

Harry couldn't understand a word of the flowing, elegant script, but then the lines reformed
themselves and he read for himself, “*For those who pursue me to* *lift up*
*others,* *stretch forth thy hand that ye may go forth to serve. For those who seek me to
lift up themselves, hold back your hand lest you receive what you deserve.”* Looking at
Hermione, who was nearly shaking with excitement, Harry grasped her hand and together, they slowly
reached towards the beautiful owl statue. They felt that slightly uncomfortable jerk of a portkey
being activated, and closed their eyes.

When they opened them again, they found themselves in a large, dry hall lined with massive
pillars and flaming torches. Their bubble head charms were gone and they were still soaking wet,
but there was air in the chamber to breathe. Above them loomed an enormous ceiling and before them
stood an enormous stone sphinx, much larger than the one Harry had faced in the maze during the
Third Task of the Tri-Wizard tournament.

Hermione and Harry quickly took a step backward when the massive head dropped to rest on its
front paws at their eye level and the enormous mouth opened to greet them.

“Greetings Scholar, Paladin. I am Rachathutr, the Guardian of the Great Library. What knowledge
do you seek and for what purpose?”

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other in disbelief and then returned their attention to the
gigantic sphinx. There was something wrong in the hall, something didn't feel quite right.
Harry looked around quickly to determine if the sphinx had any allies, not that it needed any
help—it appeared to be a very formidable foe all by itself. When he tried to mindspeak to her and
could not reach her, he knew something was terribly wrong. From Hermione's look, he could tell
that she had sensed it as well.

“You are both very perceptive. How interesting. That odd feeling you feel is your lack of
magic.”

“What?!” exploded Harry and Hermione.

“All who wish to learn in the Great Library must pass through me. But none can pass using magic
or physical force. I alone decide who will enter, and who will not. Magic does not function
properly here within this ancient hall, nor can I be defeated physically, since the owl statue
sends only a single scholar at a time.”

“Then why are we both here?” asked Harry.

The sphinx seemed to grin, but only managed to reveal very large, very sharp teeth. “Partly
because you both seek different types of knowledge, partly because I find the two of you very
interesting—especially the bond you share with each other and with the Sword of Griffindor. Its
last master was, and is, a good man.”

Harry's grip tightened on his wand reflexively as he glanced meaningfully at Hermione. He
then tried to reach out with his elemental magic to see if he could do anything, even if it was
something as simple as creating a slight breeze. A whisper of wind on his cheek let him know that
he could at least attempt a spell before he died if it came to that.

The sphinx seemed to grin even more widely. “Ah yes, the mage who can use elemental mage, very
interesting indeed. But you will not be able to defeat me Paladin,” it continued in an amused
voice.

“I've heard that before,” growled back Harry.

“and you need not fear me if your quest is noble.”

“Yeah, well the scaly crab guys defending the library weren't very friendly or chatty so
you'll have to forgive me if I'm a little skeptical.”

“There are no other guardians of the Great Library. I am the Guardian!” boomed the sphinx.

“Then who were those other creatures trying to kill us?” demanded Harry.

“They are known as the Baruscapi, you would probably call them crabmen. They were created to
defend the portals of ancient Atlantis.”

“You knew about them? What were they doing here? Is there a portal nearby?” demanded Harry.

“I do not know either their purpose or whether there is a portal nearby.”

“Well if you're the guardian, why didn't try and help us? What kind of guardian are
you?”

“I am the Guardian of the Great Library, Paladin. I have no other task nor any other power but
to guard these halls of knowledge from the undeserving.” Looking deeply into Harry's eyes he
added. “I am sorry I could not be of more assistance, but should you pass into the Great Library,
they will be able to heal your wounds.”

“Harry,” warned Hermione under her breath, “let me try talking to him.”

“Guardian of the Great Library, we seek knowledge about long lost Atlantis. We believe there are
others who wish to recover a lost artifact of great power from Atlantis and use it for evil. We
simply want to find it first and destroy it if necessary.”

“That is a worthy goal and a worthy quest Scholar. You should know there are many who desire
these secrets. Guard well what you learn and good luck in your quest. You may enter.”

Hermione bowed politely and moved past the sphinx with Harry close behind.

“Where are you going Paladin?”

“I'm going with her,” sputtered Harry.

“Tell me of the knowledge you seek and your purpose in searching for it,” demanded the
sphinx.

“I'm here to help Hermione prevent the artifacts of Atlantis from falling into the wrong
hands.”

“True. What else do you seek?”

Harry looked at him steadily, glanced at Hermione quickly, and then replied. “I am also seeking
information about lyncathropy. I want to see if a werewolf has ever successfully undergone the
Animagus transformation as a way of defeating the curse. I have a friend who has been a werewolf
for most of his life. I want to help him and others if I can find a cure.”

“Very good Paladin. What other knowledge do you seek?”

“Harry?” asked Hermione.

Harry looked at her as he answered slowly. “I am also looking for any information about mages
and elemental magic. I want to know about the effects of wielding so much power can have on their
lives—like does it shorten or expand their lifespan. More importantly, I want to learn how to
better control it so that I don't accidentally kill myself and hundreds, perhaps thousands of
innocent people around me.”

The sphinx seemed to nod slightly. “Another worthy quest Paladin. Perhaps I should have named
you Scholar-Paladin instead. You may enter as well.”

“Thank you,” whispered Harry and joined Hermione, clasping her hand firmly.

As they headed towards a set of double door at the top of a platform over three steps, they
paused and turned as the sphinx offered some final advice.

“As you have entered together, go forth on your quests together, supporting and sustaining each
other. The responsibilities you carry are great and the tasks you wish to accomplish are
difficult—but they should not be impossible for the two of you and your allies. Remember always who
you are, what you wish to become and achieve, and what you mean to each other. Farewell Scholar and
Scholar-Paladin. You are both young, I hope to visit with you again in the future.”

Harry and Hermione nodded thanks, then turned back to the double doors and pushed them open. As
they stepped over the threshold, they felt rejuvenated and realized they could feel their magic
again. They paused for a moment, reveling in the powerful feeling, and decided never to take that
feeling for granted again. As they stood hand in hand, a grey robed figure approached them clucking
disapprovingly.

The figure began rattling off what Harry suspected were phrases in various languages while he
and Hermione looked at what seemed to be a reception area. Several chairs and couches with tables
sat in front of an enormous desk where several figures were bent over their paperwork. Hermione
finally answered in a language Harry couldn't identify and the robed figure continued in
English.

“English then? Very well dear. It's your first visit I see. No overnight bags, no dry
clothing, nothing to write with—never mind, we can provide all of that. Names please?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Yes of course, I should have guessed. I can't think of any other witches or wizards as
young as the two of you who might have either the reason or the ability to find the Great Library.
Though Xia Ghiannon, Marcus Aurellio, and Gina Topenski are very bright, none of them have faced
the kinds of opponents you two have defeated.

How long do you plan on staying with us?”

“What do you mean? We have hotel rooms in Alexandria…” began Harry.

“Well, you can certainly return there every evening if you want—I hear it's a lovely swim,
but we do have rooms for scholars here if you'd like.”

“*It's an ancient custom Harry. The ancient museum and Great Library provided room and
board for visiting scholars. Isn't this exciting?”*

“They will, of course, be separate rooms,”

*“Of course,”* thought Harry, grinning at what he imagined would be Ron's
indignation.

Two hours later, Harry and Hermione were in their separate rooms asleep. Both had been provided
with several simple, clean robes they could use while studying at the library as well as all the
materials they would need to take notes and conduct research. There was a healer on staff who had
treated Harry with two drops of phoenix tears to heal his injured stomach, though she seemed
slightly disturbed when she saw the other scars crisscrossing his arms and torso as well as the
black and blue bruises still healing from training with Samuel. Harry laughed when he thought they
probably didn't get many scholars who led as `active' a life as he did. Hermione had been
ecstatic during the very brief tour they had been given of the main hall with its records where
they would be allowed to work. She was also very happy with the exquisite quills and parchments
which had been provided for their notetaking and had a hard time getting to sleep. Harry on the
other hand was exhausted and quickly fell sound asleep.

*-*-*

Several days later Harry sat back and looked at the endless rows of scrolls and parchments.
Glancing over at Hermione, he could tell by the smile on her face and the glow in her cheeks that
she was in heaven as she sat scribbling furiously as she translated an ancient manuscript. Behind
the table they sat at were towering shelves lined with books, scrolls, and manuscripts in every
condition and language. Hovering globes provided light to read by without damaging the physical
condition of the delicate records. Harry had wandered off the first day and been lost for two hours
wandering the seemingly endless aisles of shelves of the enormous library.

Initially, the librarians had been hesitant about allowing Hermione to look at some of the more
ancient and unique transcripts. However, when they discovered to their utter amazement that
Hermione could fairly easily translate nearly any document in any language they brought before her,
they changed their minds quickly. There were several languages she had trouble translating and
couldn't decipher at all. Harry chuckled when he remembered how frustrated Hermione had been to
discover she couldn't translate everything. After a few minutes of thought, Hermione realized
they were written by magical races she had never met—some of them were extinct, some were extremely
isolated and lived far from Great Britain. Since she had never met a member of those races, she
didn't have a sense of how their minds worked or how to interpret their language.

Suddenly she looked up with a sparkle in her eye. “I think I've found something. Part of it
is missing, the page has been torn, but it's part of a prophecy. Listen:

*A queen of death will arise to destroy the old world*

*The dark queen will bring to pass a new world*

*And shatter the old world**”*

Hermione looked intently at Harry. “Does that sound familiar?”

“Yeah, it could be part of the prophecy that Quintus was going on and on about. Is there
anything else there?”

“No, the rest has been torn away and lost. I wonder if…”

At that moment, one of the librarians appeared at their table with an enormous box in her
arms.

“Miss Granger, this is one of the oldest manuscripts we have here in the Great Library. It was
discovered in Wales and I was hoping you might take a look to see if you could read it. Nobody else
has ever been able to decipher it.”

“Well if it's that old and nobody else has had any luck, I probably won't either, but
I'd be happy to look at it for you,” replied Hermione eagerly.

Hermione opened the lid carefully and pulled out the delicate scrolls and began unrolling it
slowly. For a few minutes, she just sat there quietly, her lips moving softly as she focused on the
beautiful, flowing script. She then looked up at Harry and the librarian. “This is incredible. It
is much more elegant and tragic in the original language, but I'll try to do it justice.
Listen.” She cleared her throat and began reading, unaware of the slowly growing crowd of
librarians and researchers that came to listen.

“*The Lament of L**uthior*

*the first storm that hit our land*

*was fierce and long and wild*

*it split our homes and turned ourselves*

*upon each other like bloodied wolves*

*Luthior raised his troops*

*And Collientum brought his armies*

*None were spared to stand between*

*While Athlanti chose her fate*

*the two sides met and crashed together*

*like waves upon the shore*

*amidst the chaos they left behind*

*were the dead and dying*

*like wood and shells upon the sand*

*left by a falling tide*

*the city streets were strewn*

*with bloodied limbs and broken bodies*

*like boulders long worn down*

*by rain and wind and cold*

*both sides were left weakened*

*and neither could prevail*

*Riptoria fell with his ten thousand*

*As did Meancum, Tipimia, Brochias, and Jarconi*

*Each with their ten thousand*

*And ten more captains with their ten thousands fell that week*

*Collientium fell with his ten thousand*

*As did Numenur, Hildris, Wertom, and Desidir*

*Each with their ten thousand*

*And ten more captains with their ten thousands fell that week*

*Collientium brought hordes of cursed creatures*

*Cruel mixtures of lesser beings*

*And our own slaves fell in countless numbers*

*As the* *streets ran red in* *Athlantius*

*Luthior captured the orb of death*

*But failed to break its evil power*

*He had a moment of peace, a calm be**tween the two*

*but could not stop the second storm from breaking*

*Collientur, the rebel heir*

*Rose to challenge his loss*

*To regain his father's power*

*He made a hellish pact*

*From the darkest pits*

*Where courage wanes*

*He summoned demonic aid*

*That turned on him and gained control*

*Valypsa serves only itself*

*It admits no mortal master*

*Valypsa seeks only death and ruin*

*And brought both to our land*

*Luthior once again called upon us*

*To stand with him against evil*

*But we were too few, and they too many*

*To survive another gale of such fury*

*Collientur and Valypsa sought the orb*

*But Luthior wielded it as he died*

*And unleashed a force that killed all around*

*As the early frost cuts short the harvest*

*Collientur, mad with grief and hate*

*Was but a pawn played by the demon*

*That brought the doom*

*Wrought by our pride and greed*

*We sought too much power,*

*For all the wrong reasons*

*And when balance restored itself*

*We were found light on the scales*

*The island shook, new mountains grew*

*The island cracked and fell into the sea*

*Some fled thru portals to distant lands*

*While others of us still sought an end*

*We walked through walls of dead*

*Drawn by the cries of misery*

*We beheld the great black wyrm writhing in pain,*

*Its goal complete but the orb beyond reach*

*it spied us out and turned towards us*

*a jungle cat playing with its prey*

*we cast our spells and launched our missiles*

*as it merely laughed and taunted us*

*We knelt in fear and without hope*

*As with voice of thunder and crashing rocks*

*it spoke with terror and with power*

*and announced to us our doom*

*“No mortal hand can do me harm,*

*Nor magic of your world*

*Surrender now and live to serve*

*Or die now with your race.”*

*Alone brave Althius stood and faced the fiend*

*he took red fire from the sky*

*and hurled white lightening*

*which struck down the wyrm where it stood*

*As Valypsa lay bleeding out*

*It laid one final curse*

*That stripped our power and our will*

*Just as we sought it over others*

*We stood again and wept anew*

*Amidst the carnage and destruction*

*An entire nation lay before us*

*Never to rule again*

*Broken, weak and powerless*

*We left our ancestors' home*

*Feared and hated as exiles*

*in a new world where we had no place*

*Fifty years and more have passed*

*Since the fall of our homeland*

*Yet I remember every detail*

*As if it were just yesterday*

*Perhaps there will be another spring for us*

*After our long winter of despair*

*Perhaps there is nothing left for us*

*But to serve, and suffer, and die.”*

Hermione looked up, startled to see the size of the group that had gathered around her listening
in awe while Harry simply stared at her with his mouth open. When he finally found his voice he
whispered, “I think that is the saddest thing I have ever heard. Tens of thousands dead in their
civil war—their entire civilization collapsed—their entire homeland destroyed. You said they were
the Athlanti and one of their cities was called Athlantius? Do you suppose…”

“Yes, I think this is a partial history of the destruction of Atlantis.”

“But if you can read it Hermione, that would mean…”

“I have met an Atlantean, or the descendent of an Athlanti I guess I should say.”

“Wow,” muttered Harry. “Is there anything else about where Atlantis was located, or anything
else about this orb of death or this demon Valypsa?”

Hermione shook her head.

“So now we know a little more about what happened, and at least we know that there was a
powerful item that was created, but we're still no closer to finding it or Atlantis than we
were before.”

“We'll just have to keep looking. The story did mention something about portals, so maybe we
could…” Hermione drifted off into thought while Harry turned back to the book he had been
reading.

*-*-*

The night before they were to leave for Christmas, they were looking through several books when
Harry stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over backwards.

“What is it Harry?” asked Hermione with some concern.

“The hotel! We haven't been back to the hotel in a week and a half. They probably think
we've been kidnapped or something. I can't believe I forgot to cover our tracks after we
arrived. I'll have to go back and place some memory charms to make them think we had to return
home early or something and already checked out. Don't worry, I'll be back in an hour or
so.” Harry got up, went back to his room for his wetsuit, and headed for the great hall with the
sphinx. Five minutes later, he was on the shore of the bay and dressed again in the clothes he had
arrived in a week and a half earlier.

He walked quickly back to the hotel. He recognized the desk clerk and stepped towards the front
desk. “I would like to leave a message for Ms. Fraley,” he stated politely.

The clerk looked through the register and then glanced back at Harry. “I am sorry sir, we have
no record of a Ms. Faley staying here.”

“She would have checked in about a week and a half ago, with a young boy who was her nephew,”
explained Harry.

The clerk flipped through several pages of the book and shook his head again. “I am sorry sir,
are you sure it was this hotel? There is another one just down…”

Harry stopped listening as he realized something was very wrong here. Someone had already erased
any trace of Hermione and he registering. “*But why would anyone want to…”* Harry was diving
and rolling to the side, summoning his wand to his wrist even as he felt a bite of sharp pain in
his calf. He aimed his wand and shouted *“Stupefy!”* at the darkly clad, heavily tattooed man
behind him who was getting ready to throw several more darts at Harry. Harry hit him directly in
the chest with a spell strong enough to knock him to the far wall, but the man didn't even
flinch. The man threw three more darts at Harry who simply waved his hand and warped the wood in
midair, deflecting them to the side and the ground. His keen sense of smell detected a sharp, acrid
odor from the misshapen darts lying on the floor. *“Fabulous! Poison darts!”* he thought and
cast another, more powerful offensive spell that sent a column of flame shooting at his opponent.
Harry gasped in shock as the man did not flinch or try to duck as the spell struck him, but then
the spell seemed to fizzle. Two more pinpricks in his side informed him that there was at least one
other attacker and then Harry realized that there were anti-Apparation and anti-teleporting spells
in place. Harry saw the second, and then a third heavily tattooed man as Harry felt his body
stiffen up and darkness covered him.

-->



33. Black and Blue
------------------



Ch 33: Black & Blue

Harry was sitting in a comfortable chair in one of the hotel rooms when he opened his eyes
again. His mouth was tightly gagged and he found his body was completely paralyzed from the neck
down. As he raised his head, he saw one of his attackers standing easily in front of him and to the
side. He could smell the second one behind him. And directly in front of him stood a very tall
house-elf casually twirling Harry's wand between his nimble fingers.

“We meet again, Mr. Potter. I wish it could be under more favorable circumstances, but neither
you nor Miss Granger would listen to the voice of reason. You both insist on pursuing your mad
quest. I'm afraid that will have to end soon. The only reason you are still alive is that we
might need you as bait for Miss Granger. Now, if you tell me what I need to know, I promise your
deaths will be quick and merciful. I am going to remove your gag now so that you can answer my
questions, but do not try anything. I have your wand, and my associates are very familiar with
magic. If you try any of your wandless or elemental magic, my friend behind you will give you a
much higher dose of stone asp venom, one from which you will never awake. Besides, it would be
futile to try and cast magic on them. They are members of the Ashanti Brotherhood, an ancient band
of specially trained squibs who are dedicated to the destruction of human wizards and witches, and
with these special tattoos are highly resistant, nearly immune in fact, to every form of magic cast
at them.” He waved his fingers, and Harry's gag fell to the ground.

Harry spit out a few bits of thread that were stuck in his mouth before glaring at the
house-elf.

“Now, where is Miss Granger? Is she still in the Great Library?”

Harry just glared at him, saying nothing.

“I was afraid of this.” He nodded to the man who stood behind Harry. He moved to Harry's
side and Harry could feel the heat from a very hot blade washing over his face. Harry closed his
eyes and focused all of his attention inward, trying to find the poison that was paralyzing him and
trying to dilute it or destroy it. He had never attempted something like this, but knew that if he
was unable to counter the poison, both he and Hermione would likely die. He had already tried to
warn her, but the protective wards around the Great Library were too strong for him to break from
so far away. And he knew that it was only a matter of time before Hermione came looking for him. He
imagined the third one was waiting in the hotel lobby for Hermione to show up, just as he had
earlier. Harry cursed again at having been so easily trapped. If Samuel ever found out he would be
more than a little upset.

Finally, Harry detected the dark mist moving sluggishly in his veins. Concentrating with every
ounce of his being, he tried to envision a very small burst of his magic rupturing the molecular
bonds holding the poison together. Harry felt a slight tingle and then a surge of energy. He opened
his eyes to see a glowing blade only inches from his left eye.

Abandoning conscious thought, Harry exploded into action, relying on his instincts and physical
training. As his left hand shot up to grab the man's wrist and twist the knife away,
Harry's right fist shout out and punched him in the solar plexus, right below the breastbone,
driving the air from the man's chest. Harry then twisted to the left, shooting out of his chair
and driving his right forearm up, right under the man's right elbow. As he continued to stand,
he heard the loud snap of the elbow as it broke and heard the man scream in pain. The grip on the
dagger loosened and Harry easily caught the dagger in a reverse grip as it fell to the floor and
continuing his spin, plunged the dagger deeply into the man's stomach. There was a burning hiss
as the red hot dagger sliced through his belly and the man's ragged screams ended quickly.

Harry pushed the man forward into the smaller elf as he raised his right hand and shouted
*“Gladius!”* while he summoned his wand towards him. His transformed wand leaped into his hand
as the other man rushed forward, stabbing with a short sword which Harry parried easily. Harry
leaped forward, chasing the man back with a powerful lunge, and took the opportunity to stomp
heavily on one of the hands of the elf, buried under the body of the other assassin. Harry ground
his left foot until he could hear bones breaking in the hand. The elf screamed in pain and then
there was nothing but his echoing cries as the elf teleported away.

Meanwhile, the other tattooed assassin had leaped forward and opened a slash on Harry's left
thigh, which burned fiercely. Harry lunged forward again, then parried several quick slices before
knocking his opponent's sword to the right. Harry lashed out with a kick and landed a solid
blow to the man's knee. Harry continued spinning and brought his sword down in a powerful
diagonal slash. It was blocked high, but Harry again used the opportunity to kick powerfully at the
knee again. The man hobbled backward, limping painfully. Harry pressed his advantage, using his
quicker footwork to put himself into position to land several deep slashes on the man's leg and
side.

Harry feinted once with a low stab and then took a high, chopping swing to set up his opponent
and give him a brief opening to stab at Harry's gut. The assassin took the bait and lunged and
stumbled slightly on his wounded leg, which gave Harry the tiny opening he needed to slip his sword
back down and over the top of the man's defensive parry where it slid easily between through
his third and fourth rib, biting deep into the man's chest. Harry swore briefly as he had to
roll the body in order to pull his sword back out of the mortal wound. He quickly checked the other
man, but he was dead as well. Harry cursed again and then cloaked himself in invisibility and
teleported to the main lobby of the hotel where he began scanning the room for the final
assassin.

He searched the room desperately for a heavily tattooed man, but most of the figures wore long
flowing robes, making it nearly impossible to visually identify the waiting assassin. He wondered
if the tattoos were magical, which he thought would be highly ironic given the elf's
description of their attitudes, and started scanning for traces of magical defenses. After several
minutes of fruitless searching, he glanced at the clock and wondered if Hermione would be coming
anytime soon. He hoped not, at least until he found the hiding assassin. He wondered if the tattoos
were either not magical at all or were simply too subtle for him to detect with the spells at his
disposal. Wracking his brain for another approach, he heard the distinctive crack of someone
Apparating outside. But the multiple cracks he heard indicated more than one wizard and since he
still couldn't feel Mione's telepathic link, he knew it wasn't her.

The door opened and in strode two deeply tanned figures. Harry instantly recognized by the way
they walked and took everything in at a glance that they were trained professionals, probably
Medjai, the Egyptian equivalent of the British Aurors. One moved to speak with the desk clerk while
the other stood apart, watching the crowd.

Suddenly, Harry realized another trap was about to be sprung. He felt the tingle of an
anti-teleportation ward emerge and Apparated to the front of the room with a loud crack as a
Stunning spell and several darts struck right where he had been. He felt his disillusionment
dispelled and rolled to the side as more darts and three bright flashes of light struck again right
where he had been. There were innocent patrons running everywhere, but several smarter ones were
looking for cover behind tables and couches or simply dropping to the floor. With a wave of his
hand, Harry blanketed the room in complete darkness.

Focusing his senses he located the elf again, whom he knew was behind the violent attacks of the
Medjai. Though the elf was invisible and now hidden by deep shadow, Harry could see the warm form
easily and launched a carefully aimed bludgeoning hex that sent him flying against the wall and
cracked the plaster on the wall. Harry grinned in momentary triumph as the body slumped to the
ground and he realized he could teleport again. Harry took advantage of the temporary confusion of
the Medjai as they tried to shake off the effects of the spell that the elf had cast on them and
called out to them. He sensed movement and dropped quickly to the floor as he heard several darts
fly above him and thud heavily into a nearby wall. Harry cursed and teleported behind the assassin.
He raised his arm and transformed his wand into a small, heavy blackjack, which he then brought
down as hard as he could on the base of the assassin's skull, just as he turned at the sound of
Harry's voice. The blow dropped him to the ground like a brick.

The lights came back on and Harry was blinded temporarily. He tried to teleport away and
realized the wards were back up. Instead he dove backward as a Stunner passed over him, a cutting
hex hit his shoulder, and a bolt of pure energy grazed his side. Harry rolled behind the cover of a
large couch and heard another set of distinctive pops from outside the hotel. The couch shuddered
from the impact of another spell and started to burn. Harry ignored it as he waited for the Medjai
to try and outflank his position. He let the couch burn and then sucked all the energy from it as
he heard them Apparate on either side of him, trying to pin him down with deadly fire. But he was
waiting for them and much quicker. He stunned the one on his right, sending him flying over a
broken table. The one on his left found herself wrapped in tight ropes as she aimed her wand at
him. Harry sensed the elf casting a spell nearby and yelled *“**B**AUTTUERUM
MARTEL!*" even as Harry was hit with a freezing spell that took away his breath and sent
him sliding across the room. As he tried to catch his breath, he was happy to see that the elf had
been knocked through the hotel lobby across the street and through the wall of the next building.
Harry hoped nobody else had been hurt and then looked up into the wand of the third Medjai, who was
staring at him in deep confusion.

Harry heard another sound, as if someone were trying to speak to him but he couldn't make
out a single word. Harry looked around and saw three more Medjai surrounding him, each with their
own wands out. Harry remained still, his senses probing. He didn't have time to stay and try to
sort all of this out. If the first Medjai was confused again, then the elf was out again or had
left. He had to find out which because he needed some answers. Harry disappeared in the blink of an
eye to the consternation of the Medjai who had just arrived.

Across the street, he surveyed the damage done to the other building. It appeared that he had
knocked the elf into the kitchen of a small restaurant. Parts of the room were on fire, but all of
the people who had been cooking appeared to have gotten away safely. Harry raised a hand and put
out the fires with an easy swish of his hand and stalked towards the elf lying near a cabinet. With
another wave of his hand he raised several defensive wards that should allow him to interrogate the
elf in private. “*Enervate!”* shouted Harry. Then with his other hand he levitated the elf off
the floor and threw him roughly against another wall, smacking his head hard again against the
solid surface. *“Gladius!”* Pulling his sword back as he stepped forward, Harry then shoved
the thin sword forward hard, piercing the elf right under the collar bone and pinning him painfully
to the wall.

The elf screamed in agony and fear. Harry hoped that by keeping the elf in pain and off balance,
he might be able to get some information out of him before he found a way to escape again.

“Why are you trying to kill Hermione!” Harry paused for a moment while the elf looked at him
defiantly. “Answer me!” he screamed, grasping the hilt tightly and preparing to twist it, “or the
pain gets much worse.”

Harry felt the wards weaken and dodged and turned to the side just as another stunner barely
missed him. He heard the elf chuckle and then there was a soft pop as he escaped from Harry's
anti-Apparition ward. Harry summoned the bloody sword from the wall and transformed it back into
his wand as he crouched in front of the four Medjai, raising a powerful defensive shield.

“Dammit! I had him! I had him and you let him get away!” he yelled in fury at the Medjai.

A tall, thin woman in the middle barked out a set of orders to the other three and they slowly
spread out in the small kitchen. Harry simply gritted his teeth in anger and prepared to teleport
away when he heard another familiar voice behind them, even though he had no idea what she was
saying.

The four Medjai froze and turned to look at their leader who turned slowly turned towards
Hermione who had her wand aimed directly at her.

“It's about time Hermione. I thought you might miss all the fun here tonight.”

“Are you OK? Are you hurt?”

“No worse than usual.”

The leader of the Medjai looked at Hermione, her eyes slowly widening in recognition. In
accented English, she asked, “Are you Hermione Granger?”

Still not lowering her wand, she nodded. The lead Medjai then looked back at Harry and then
lowered her wand. She snapped out several more orders and her three companions looked at her in
shock. She repeated one of the orders, and they left her, Harry, and Hermione alone in the
partially destroyed kitchen as they walked back across the street to the primary scene of the
battle.

She asked Hermione to step into the kitchen and then raised several wards to allow them to speak
privately without further interruption. “May I ask why you have come to Alexandria without
notifying our Ministry Mr. Potter?”

Brushing away his brown locks, Harry looked at her for a moment before he revealed his true
form. “I really can't say.”

The Medjai glanced again at Hermione and then spoke again. “If I have to guess then, I imagine
it has something to do with the Great Library.” Before they could protest, she raised her hand. “Do
not worry, you wouldn't be the first to do so. I know all about the Library, though I have
never visited it myself, nor am I particularly interested in whatever information you seek there.
That is your own business. However, I am very interested in what happened here tonight.”

“How did you know who I was?” asked Harry.

“There are very few wizards that could defeat single handedly two Medjai and an Ashanti
assassin. There are even fewer who are good friends with a very talented witch by the name of
Hermione.”

“Actually, there are two more Ashanti upstairs in one of the rooms. I'm afraid they
won't have any answers though,” added Harry.

The Medjai seemed stunned. “You defeated three Ashanti assassins, two of the best Medjai in
Alexandria, and a very powerful house-elf. You are even more formidable in person than you are in
the papers Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked aside for a moment as he blushed slightly.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Harry looked at her for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then answered. “Hermione and I
have been doing some research. The house-elf that I was speaking with wants to prevent us from
continuing and has tried to kill us several times now. Tonight he was waiting for us to return to
our hotel room along with the three Ashanti in order to ambush us. When I arrived, they drugged me
and tried to force me to tell them where Hermione was…”

“*Are you sure you're OK Harry? Did they…”*

*“I'm fine Mione, I promise.”*

*“Let me at least clean you up a bit and stop the bleeding. You can* *keep*
*talk**ing* *while I work.”*

*“Fine.”*

Hermione pulled off his shirt and grinned when Harry blushed again. The Medjai gasped and
Hermione clucked disapprovingly as she cleaned up the dart wounds on one side, a burn on the other
side, a deep slash on his shoulder, and the nasty effects of the powerful freezing charm on
Harry's chest. She also cleaned up and cast a few healing spells on the slash on Harry's
thigh and the dart wound in his calf.

Hermione cast a few mending spells on Harry's ruined shirt and helped him pull it back over
his head while the Medjai simply shook her head in amazement. Hermione saw and explained, “Oh this
isn't too bad, really. You should see him after a Quidditch match.” The Medjai broke out
laughing. When she had finished she looked at Harry and he continued his brief narrative.

“I managed to free myself, killing two of the Ashanti upstairs. I went downstairs to find the
third assassin when the elf returned. He must have informed the Ministry of a wizard attack and
that is why the Medjai arrived so quickly.” Noticing the Medjai's curt nod, he continued. “When
they arrived, he used a form of the *Imperious* curse on them to persuade them to attack me.
When I knocked him out, that gave me a chance to disable the Ashanti and two of the Medjai. Then
you showed up with reinforcements and I left since the anti-Apparation wards the elf had put up
were no longer functioning. I found the house-elf here and was interrogating him when you broke
through my wards and he escaped.”

“Well the first thing we need to do is to address the issue of the house-elf…”

“I don't think that will be necessary. He isn't in any condition to come after us again
tonight and we'll be gone by tomorrow. Though he can attack with magic, he doesn't seem to
be able to actually cast any lethal spells, despite the fact that he wants us dead. He'll have
to find some more people to use if he comes after us again tonight. Besides, it's us he's
interested in, not you. As soon as we're gone, he won't bother you here anymore,” insisted
Harry.

“I see. Well, I'm not sure you'll be able to leave by tomorrow. Our investigation…”

“The longer we stay, the greater the danger that the elf will return with more friends and
someone will get hurt or killed. The elf wants to kill Hermione and will not let anything get in
his way. She is better protected at Hogwarts than here…”

The Medjai nodded thoughtfully.

“I'm sorry about the mess and all of the extra work we've created for your Obliviators,
but the sooner we're away from Egypt, the safer it will be here. Besides, if you let me talk to
the Ashanti, maybe we can give you something else to keep you busy…” offered Harry.

“Technically, only the Medjai are allowed to interrogate prisoners, but if you were to talk to
him before we officially arrested him…”

Harry grinned and stood up. Together, Harry and Hermione followed the Medjai out of the kitchen
and back to the hotel. Over the protests of the other Medjai, she led them to a small room where
the Ashanti was slowly regaining consciousness. Following a nod from the head Medjai, the guard
left the three of them alone with him. He looked up angrily at Harry.

“*Are you ready Hermione?”*

*“Yeah, go ahead.”*

“Hello ugly. Remember me?” Harry stared at the blank look. “Oh, that's right you don't
speak English. Let me try again.”

With Hermione's help, he started again.

“I got nothing to say to you,” spat out the prisoner.

“We'll see about that. Who hired you? Who is the master of the elf?”

The Ashanti remained silent.

“What can you tell us about him?” Harry glanced at Hermione. “Very well, let's try something
else. Who was the last wizard you assassinated? How did you do it? Who hired you? How many other
Ashanti do you know? How could we find them? Still don't want to talk? That's OK, we've
learned more than enough. Go ahead Mione.”

Hermione turned to a very puzzled Medjai. “The last wizard he killed was named Murl Habberdeen.
Murl's nephew hired him for the murder. The nephew gave him the passwords to the defensive
wards and he strangled him and the nephew hid the body in the family cemetery. He knows fifteen
other members of the Ashanti and can give you their current contact information.”

Harry turned back to the Ashanti. “I suggest you cooperate more fully the next time they talk to
you, otherwise they might just cut you loose. But then everybody will know who ratted them out and
you probably won't last three days on the streets. It's your choice.”

Harry and Hermione turned to leave as the prisoner just watched them in shock.

“How did you do that?” muttered the Medjai as they stepped out of the room.

Harry winked and whispered, “Magic, of course.”

She laughed again and said. “Don't worry about the rest of this mess—I'll take care of
it from here. And thank you very much for the leads on the Ashanti. We've been working for
years trying to break into that nasty group of assassins. Thank you. And when you get back, tell
Bill hello from Ashdi Moran.

“Bill?” asked Harry.

“Why, Bill Weasley of course. Aren't you good friends of the family?”

“Well, yes, but how do you know Bill?”

“Oh, I would never kiss and tell, Mr. Potter,” she replied smiling.

Harry just looked at her stunned, as did Hermione by his side. Hermione was the first to recover
and said. “Thank you Ms. Moran…”

“Please, call me Ashdi. I hope we run into each other again under more favorable
circumstances.”

Harry nodded his thanks, grabbed an ashtray from the room, transformed it into a portkey, and
with a final wave to Ashdi, they disappeared.

*-*-*

When they returned to Hogswarts, Hermione insisted that he visit Madame Pomfrey first.

As she began her examination, she clucked disapprovingly as she muttered to herself. “You've
been out having fun again I see Mr. Potter. I really deserve a bonus for all the extra diagnostic
work I have to do on your injuries. A few minor cuts, dagger or sword? Never mind, I don't
really want to know. Small puncture wounds—were those from a dart?” At his nod she asked, “Were
they poisoned?” her voice full of concern.

“They were. I neutralized it.”

“Are you sure? How do you know? I should…”

“Believe me, if I had any of the stone asp venom still in my system, I wouldn't be able to
move right now,” answered Harry.

“Stone asp…” then she just shook her head in amazement. “An energy burn and some sort of frost
spell. None of these look too bad and it seems they've been treated already. The dressings
appear very neat and tidy, so I'll assume this isn't your own work Mr. Potter. Very well
done, Miss Granger,” she finished, ignoring Harry's offended protest. “In fact, I don't
know why I haven't had you in here before to learn more about Healing. You seem to have a
natural aptitude for it and if you decide to continue to stay by Mr. Potter's side I daresay he
will always be in need of medical treatment,” she looked at Hermione and then winked before adding,
“especially considering his delicate condition.”

Hermione chuckled while Harry violently protested about having any delicate condition as
Dumbledore walked into the room.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, we do seem to have most of our meetings here, don't we? Perhaps we could
make a special room for you and your visitors to keep you more comfortable during your frequent
stays.”

“Everybody's a comedian today,” muttered Harry as Madame Pomfrey finished reapplying the
dressings and left. “You know the drill, Mr. Potter. Take those potions on the bedstand before you
go to sleep and I'll check in on you in the morning. Miss Granger, please make sure he drinks
them all. And no flying, fighting, or wandering the halls tonight Mr. Potter.”

Harry just rolled his eyes while Hermione grinned as she turned and left. Dumbledore made
himself a comfortable chair and then raised a few wards to give them some privacy and make sure
they weren't overheard.

“So how was your trip?”

“More exciting than most research trips, I'd reckon,” replied Harry dryly and sketched out
for Dumbledore the major events both before and after their research in the Great Library.

“Baruscapi crabmen, assassins of the Ashanti Brotherhood, and this obsessed house-elf, all in
addition to the Great Sphinx itself. Yes, you've had quite a busy week and a half. I wish we
knew more about this elf—he sounds so different from any other elf I've ever heard of. And you
say he reads the *Quibbler.* Very strange indeed. But tell me, were you able to discover
anything new about Atlantis itself?”

“We were able to clear up a few things,” continued Hermione. “I found what appears to be a first
hand account of the massive civil war that ended up destroying Atlantis.” She repeated it for
Dumbledore from memory and then summarized it. “Tens of thousands of Athlanti, as they called
themselves, as well as uncounted other allies died during the two phases of the civil war. The son
of the original rebel raised another army before the Athlanti had a chance to recover from the
first battles and made an alliance with some powerful demon named Valypsa. The demon eventually
turned on him and ended up bringing about the destruction of the island and cursing the survivors
somehow. The demon was apparently killed—I'm not quite sure how, the demon claimed to be
impervious to magic and weapons.

And just as we suspected, there was some sort of artifact, he described it as an orb, which
seemed to have some power over life and death. But we're not sure exactly where it is. I think
the final battle took place in a city called Athlantius, it might have been the capital, I
don't know for sure, I couldn't find any maps of the island. I believe that the orb was
last used during the final battle in Athlantius—part of the account mentioned that it was just
beyond the reach of the demon where it was wounded. But whether that meant it was physically out of
reach or magically hidden, I don't know.

So we are fairly certain that this artifact exists, and we think it is somewhere in the ruins of
a city named Athantius somewhere on a larger island that we know as Atlantis though it's
possible that the survivors took it with them or hid it somewhere else. Even if it is still in the
city, we have no idea where it might be or how big the city was, where the city itself was located,
or where the island itself used to exist. It could be anywhere on the bottom of the Atlantic
Ocean.

None of the other sources have anything to say about where the island was or how to get there,
they just mention some of the things that were traded—silks, silver, gold, furs, dwarven metals,
cocoa—so it sounds like they had very extensive trade networks throughout the world. But there was
no mention of ships—the only thing that was mentioned was something about portals, but where they
might have been there was no indication in the records.

So basically our research is at a dead end. Those portals leading to Atlantis could be anywhere
in the world. We thought maybe there was a portal near Alexandria, since these crabmen were created
as the guardians, but we couldn't find one, the Guardian did not know of one, and there was
nothing in the Library that indicated there might be one. As for Atlantis itself, I suspect it is
somewhere within the Bermuda Triangle.”

“The Bermuda Triangle?” asked Harry.

“It's an area of ocean just off the coast of Florida by the United States where Muggles have
lost lots of planes and ships under very mysterious circumstances. I think the island had very
powerful anti-detection wards and shielding charms which would explain why it has never been found
and why there are so many Muggle ships and planes have been lost there—I think the those
enchantments interfere with their mechanical and electronic equipment. But even if I've guessed
correctly, there are still hundreds of square miles of ocean floor to explore, and the island
itself is probably still guarded by some variation of an unplottable spell.”

“How were you able to read an original eyewitness account Miss Granger?”

“Well,” smiled Hermione, “that might be the only lead we have. I believe I could read the
manuscript because I have actually met one of the Athlanti or one of their descendents. At the very
least, I've met with someone who speaks their language or one similar enough to it for me to
recognize the language.” Then her smile faded somewhat. “But I'm not sure who it was and
I've spoken with a lot of different people over the last year trying to put together alliances
to help defeat Voldemort. But maybe if I could figure out who it was, they might provide a clue to
finding Atlantis.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Very impressive Hermione. And how did your own research go Harry?”

Harry smiled broadly. “I think I found something for Remus. There was a story from Persia from
the 3rd century BC. A village in the north was terrorized by a werewolf, and then
suddenly the attacks stopped. But a few months later, one of the hunters killed the largest lion
that had ever been seen in those parts, about the same time that the son of one of the tribal
elders disappeared,” explained Harry. “I think it proves that our idea about having werewolves
attempt the Animagus transformation just might work. Look, I know it's not conclusive, it's
merely anecdotal, but I think it's the only evidence we're likely to find, unless
you've turned up something more conclusive.”

“No, I haven't. We can talk to Remus later. I'm glad to see both of you back relatively
safe and sound.” Dumbledore looked up. “Ah, news of your return seems to have spread. If there is
nothing else, I will leave you to your friends.” Harry and Hermione smiled and waved at their
friends as Dumbledore stood up.

“Where have you two been?!” burst out Ron. “Are you alright?”

“We're fine. You know how Madame Pomfrey is, if she had her way, I'd live down here in
one of the infirmary beds year round. I'm fine though.”

“But where did you guys go?”

“We were researching.”

“More research? Well, I'm sure that was fun…” finished Ron rather lamely.

“But if you were just researching, how did you get hurt so badly Harry?” asked Luna with
concern.

“I'm fine, don't worry about it Luna.”

“Well, we're glad you guys made it back before Christmas. Have you finished your shopping
yet?” asked Ginny who didn't look entirely convinced but seemed willing to change the
subject.

Harry's face fell and Hermione shook her head no as well.

“Well, good, there was a bunch of us planning another trip to Hogmeade's tomorrow to do some
last minute shopping and relax before we all head home for the holidays. Do you both want to
come?”

“Sure,” answered Hermione.

“Uhh.”

“Oh relax, Harry. We'll go to the Twins' store and hang out for a while, then we can
check out the latest brooms while the girls do their shopping. Then we can pick up any presents we
need before we meet them for lunch at the Three Broomsticks. That's what we did today, but it
will be a lot more fun with you there tomorrow.”

“And that's why we have to go back and finish shopping tomorrow, because you and the other
boys did nothing helpful all day except make yourselves scarce. You didn't do any serious
shopping or…”

“Nag, nag,” muttered Ron.

“Oh, well, then count me in,” chuckled Harry, looking relieved. “So who all is going?”

Ginny paused for a moment and began counting on her fingers. “Well, everyone that went
today—that would be me and Neville, Ron and Luna, Padma, Parvati, Lavender, Seamus, Dean and some
guy from Ravenclaw that Padma has been seeing, I think his name is Thomas. Oh and there'll be
you and Hermione tomorrow and uhh, we invited Gabrielle and Draco to come as well.”

Ron started to say something but bit back his comment when Luna laid her hand on his arm.

Ginny glanced at him in irritation. “We decided to invite them this afternoon while we were
having lunch at the Three Broomsticks. If you hadn't been busy drooling over the new model of
the Solar Flare III, you could have voiced your objection while we were discussing it over lunch.
We were hoping you guys would be back from wherever it was that you went in time.”

“Yeah, we're glad to be back too. It sounds like fun. Uh-oh, looks like Pomfrey's coming
back. She wants me to stay the night here—big surprise there, but I'll catch up with all of you
tomorrow at breakfast.”

“All right, everybody out. Mr. Potter needs his rest tonight,” called out Madame Pomfrey as she
shooed everyone from the infirmary.

*-*-*

Deep in sleep, Harry lay breathing quietly in his bed as the shadow crept closer. The figure
reached out a hand to grab Harry's arm and then Harry simply disappeared. The cloaked figure
whirled, looking for the vanished wizard. Suddenly he threw back his head and chuckled.

“Very good, Potter. Very good indeed. You can uncloak yourself now, we need to talk.”

Harry suddenly reappeared ten feet away as he reholstered his wand. “Hunt, don't do that!”
he hissed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack and I came this close to blowing you through that
wall over there.”

“Constant vigilance, Potter! Constant vigilance!”

“I know, I know,” muttered Harry.

“You always need to be on guard—even while you're asleep and especially when you're
recovering…”

“I know, I know,” repeated Harry tiredly.

“So tell me how you did that. Some sort of defensive ward or…”

“I'm not telling. And what is so important that you had to come and wake me up in the middle
of the night? Do you have a new lead?”

Samuel grinned a predator's smile. “Just got word about some Death Eaters that need rounding
up. The information I got indicates that they're trying to make contact with some vampires so I
thought we could kill two birds with one…”

“Did you say vampires and Death Eaters?” snapped Harry, his fatigue immediately evaporated and
his entire attention focused on Samuel.

“Yeah, you heard me—I was speaking English, wasn't I? Why?” he asked seeing Harry's face
tighten and his eyes focus intently.

“Let me grab my stuff. I'll see you at the front gates in five minutes.”

“Don't keep me waiting Potter,” and he turned towards the door. Pausing at the door, he
turned back and grinned. “And give her a kiss for me Potter.” But Harry was already gone. Samuel
chuckled to himself and headed for the front gates.

Harry teleported to his room where he quickly changed and grabbed his magical pouch, his broom,
and a warm cloak.

“*Mione? Are you awake?”*

*“Harry?! Is that you? You should be sleeping. Are you OK? What's wrong?”*

*“I'm fine Mione. But Samuel just stopped by and I've got to go. I wanted to let you
know before I left. I'm sorry about the shopping trip tomorrow, but I have to…”*

*“**Are you sure you should go? You're still hurt from today and…”*

*“I'm fine Hermione. I need to go.”*

*“I know.* *I understand. I'll meet you downstairs in the Common Room.”*

*“Mione, you don't need to…”*

*“I want to Harry. Finish getting your stuff and I'll see you in a minute.”*

*“OK.”*

“Ron. Ron, wake up.”

“Shhh, Luna. Give me back my broom, I need to defend the goals.”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his best friend harder. “Ron, it's Harry. Wake up.”

“Lun—er Harry. What do you want? Do you know what time it is?”

“No, now listen. When you go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, you need to stay close to Hermione. Do not
let her out of your sight, no matter what. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, watch Hermione shop tomorrow. Whatever Harry.”

“Listen to me Ron. It's very important. I won't be there tomorrow, Samuel and I are
going hunting. I need you to take care of Hermione for me, she's been in a lot of danger
recently.”

“Hermione, danger, yeah, got it Harry. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Yeah, Ron. Get some sleep. Just take care of her for me while I'm gone, OK?”

“Sure thing mate,” mumbled Ron as he fell back asleep.

Harry frowned but picked up his things and teleported downstairs to the common room. Hermione
was standing behind the couch, drumming her fingers nervously on the back of the couch as she
watched the low flames in the fireplace. Clad in her slightly worn bathrobe with her bushy hair
sticking out every which way, Harry once again marveled at her beauty for a moment before he
spoke.

“Mione.”

She turned and threw her arms around him. “Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me
you'll come back to me.”

Harry patted her back reassuringly. “I promise Mione, I promise. I'm sorry I have to
go…”

“Don't be Harry. I understand. We both do what we have to do. Don't worry, I'll be
fine. Besides, I'll be busy shopping tomorrow and now I won't have to worry about you
trying to spy on me and figure out what presents I am getting tomorrow.”

“You haven't already gotten me mine?” asked Harry incredulously.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not saying,” teased Hermione.

Harry grinned. “I'll be back as soon as I can. I love you Hermione Granger.”

“And I love you Harry Potter.”

Harry leaned down, wrapped his arms around her and gave her no doubt about his feelings for her.
Leaning his forehead against hers he simply soaked in the joy of the moment, etching it into his
memory.

“You better get going Harry. Hunt gets kind of cranky when you keep him waiting,” whispered
Hermione in a slightly teasing tone.

“He can wait another minute,” replied Harry and kissed her again. When he finally pulled away,
he caressed her cheek again and whispered softly. “Goodbye Mione, I'll see you soon.”

“Goodbye Harry. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harry then disappeared and Hermione headed back to her bedroom.

“Took you long enough Romeo,” teased Samuel.

“Let's go. Where are we headed?” asked Harry.

“Well, we can travel by floo as far as Bournemouth, and then we'll have to travel by broom
from there to Christchurch. We'll have to go slow and be cautious so we won't be detected,
but we should be there well before daylight. Now let's go to the Hogshead Tavern, it should
still be open this late. We can floo from there.” Harry nodded and they both Apparated away.

*-*-*

By midafternoon, Harry was very bored and very tired. They had arrived outside what appeared to
be an abandoned warehouse in one of the seedier sections of London several hours before dawn. Harry
was perched on top of a nearby building with a clear view of the back alley and entrance. Samuel
was covering the front of the building. Though he had seen several people walk by in the hours he
had been stationed there, nobody had gone in or out of the warehouse.

Suddenly, a large hawk settled down near where Harry's invisible dragonform was sitting on
the edge of the roof. The hawk swiveled its head quickly and then hopped down to the roof of the
building, behind the small ledge which prevented anyone from seeing him from the street. The hawk
then transformed itself into a tall, lean wizard with long black hair.

“Something's not right Harry. There's something odd about this place, about this whole
thing. I don't like it.”

Harry suddenly appeared next to Samuel. “What do you mean?”

“Well, two things have been bothering me all morning about this tip—the informant and the
information.”

“What was wrong?”

“Well, I never met the informant. It was a tip given to me by one of my regular contacts, but
they didn't know the informant either. That's always suspicious. And second, the
information—it's almost too precise, too exact. Unless someone very high up is betraying these
Death Eaters, it has more information than one would expect. And I've never seen a Death Eater
willingly sell out another Death Eater unless there was something in it for them—but this informant
didn't ask for anything. He just passed on the information and left. And the meeting was to
take place at noon. That was three hours ago. Why on earth would vampires set up a meeting midday
when they're at their weakest, unless they were already in the building deep in the basement or
something? And I haven't detected a single magical defensive ward. If there are vampires in
there, they would have some sort of protections set up. I'm beginning to think that we've
been set up.”

“So what do you think? Should we just go in and poke around a bit? See if someone has set up a
trap for us?”

“Yeah, I think so Potter. If this is a trap, we need to figure out who set it and why. We'll
go in through the back.”

“But what about the front?” asked Harry.

“If we hear something, you can teleport back out to the front and catch them. I'm more
worried about them setting a trap for us inside so we'll go in together. Just try and stun
anybody you see Potter—we need them to be able to give us some answers.”

“Speak for yourself, Hunt,” muttered Harry under his breath.

When Samuel asked if he was ready, Harry nodded his head. Harry quickly checked the alley to
make sure it was clear and then grabbed Samuel's shoulder. They reappeared just outside the
back door. They both did a quick scan to check for defensive wards of any sort and found none. When
Harry waved his hand and opened the door wandlessly, they waited for an alarm to go off. There was
nothing but the clicking of the locks on the back door. Samuel cautiously opened the door and
motioned for Harry to follow him. They crept in silently. The disturbed dust on the floor indicated
that there had been a number of people here very recently, but it was impossible to determine just
how many. Samuel followed the main trail through the aisles of deserted wooden crates and shipping
boxes while Harry followed behind him silent and invisible. The path led them to a large wooden
crate. They looked at each other and then at the footprints on either side of the box and the drag
marks behind the box. They then pushed the crate back which revealed a large trapdoor in the
floor.

“Not very good at hiding things are they?” pointed out Samuel while Harry stared intently at the
door, checking closely for traps but again finding nothing. Harry opened it again wordlessly and
Samuel tugged it open. Harry glanced ominously at Samuel as they then descended into the dank,
musky darkness that filled the basement. Apart from the dank, earthy aroma one would expect from a
basement, Harry was sure he had detected the scent of blood and death.

When Samuel reached the bottom of the ladder, he lit his wand and signaled for Harry to descend
as he looked around. At first glance, the room appeared normal enough. There was a long table in
one corner. Along one wall were a number of long wooden boxes with their lids leaning next to
them.

It was the other half of the room that caused the bile to rise in Harry's throat. There were
a number of chains and manacles lining the wall, some attached directly to the stone wall itself,
some attached to a variety of tables and very uncomfortable looking chairs. In the middle stood
what appeared to be a low stone altar. On one end of the room stood another table with a variety of
bowls, knives, and oddly shaped bottles and cups. On the other end appeared to be some sort of
furnace. Harry stood frozen in horror as his nose easily told him what the brownish red substance
he could see coating the tables, walls, and chains—dried blood.

To his side, Samuel swore forcefully and spit as he moved closer to the altar. Mechanically,
almost against his will, Harry moved slowly towards the furnace at the other end. Afraid of what he
might find, he slowly opened the grate and peered inside. There were a few scraps of paper mingled
with the grey-white ash covering the inside of the large furnace. Harry reached to pull a few of
them out and his fingers brushed something a little more solid. Praying his fears wouldn't be
realized, he slowly brushed away the ashes and pulled out what appeared to be a long bone. Probably
a femur. And probably human.

Clamping his mouth tightly shut against the sudden urge to throw up, Harry closed his eyes and
breathed shallowly, trying to regain control. He knew there was nothing more he could do now for
the victims except find their murderers. Opening his eyes again he reached again into the ashes and
pulled out the few scraps of paper he could find, carefully shaking off the human ashes from these
potential scraps of evidence. His eyes widened in shock when he recognized the nervous but happy
face of the witch looking back at him from what appeared to be a clipping from a wizarding
newspaper. The other scrap of paper had only parts of a few words “`OGSME,' `oomsti,' and
`eezes,'” as well as a few lines drawn on it. Harry looked at it for a moment and then realized
what he was holding. He turned to find Samuel at the far end of the room examining the far table
and the different bowls and cups.

“Hunt! What the hell is going on here?! What have we stumbled into?”

Samuel spat again and turned towards Harry angrily. “I think we've found a nest of wannabe
vampires. I came across a group like this once in the States.”

“What?!” asked Harry incredulously.

“There are some people who actually want to become vampires. They sometimes try and make
themselves into vampires by trying to develop a taste for human blood by kidnapping people,
draining the blood from their bodies, and trying to drink it.” Glancing over at the altar, he
added. “Or sometimes they try other methods.”

“Who on earth would want to do that?”

“It takes a pretty sick, twisted individual. Sometimes they're just Muggles fascinated by
the myths and legends and drawn to the idea of immortality. Sometimes they're Squibs jealous of
the magical power they can't use, and crave another source of power. They're the more
dangerous of the two groups, because they usually know just enough magic and have just enough
knowledge about real vampires to actually have a chance at succeeding in their mad quest. Based on
what we've seen today, I'd say we have a mixture. There were no magical alarms, just the
normal Muggle ones that you disarmed. But these attempts at potions and the attempted spells cast
at the altar indicate at least one of these psychos is familiar with the magical world. But it
looks like they've left and they're not coming back. Maybe they knew we were coming.”

“Well, they didn't do too good a job of cleaning up,” commented Harry, looking with
revulsion at the blood spattered table and instruments. Then his voice hardened. “They threw all of
their victims in the furnace and tried to burn all the evidence. There's no way of telling how
many people they killed. And they tried to burn this as well.”

Harry slammed the scraps of paper down on the bloody table, rattling the other items.

Samuel looked closely at the pieces of paper. “Isn't that…”

“It's a picture of Hermione. And they've circled her picture in ink for some
reason.”

“But what are these words? OGSME?”

“I think this was a map of Hogsmeade. See these lines? On this street here are the Three
Broomsticks and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.” Then Harry's face whitened. “No! No, no,
NO!”

“What?!”

“Hermione and a group of our friends from Hogwarts were going to go to Hogsmeade today to go
shopping. Some of them were talking about inviting us yesterday in the Three Broomsticks. Our
conversations have been overheard before in one of those pubs. What if these bloodsucking wannabes
have decided that drinking magical blood might be better than Muggle blood?”

“Go Harry! Go check on your friends and make sure they're OK. I'll keep looking around
here for clues. Maybe I can find their new hideout. Go.”

Harry nodded once in thanks and then disappeared. Samuel spat again in disgust and went over to
the other table to search for more clues.

*-*-*

Harry appeared in the middle of the street in front of The Three Broomsticks amidst a chaotic
crowd. His insides turned ice cold as he saw the numbers of dark cloaked Aurors looking around what
was left of the Three Broomsticks. Most were either looking for clues, speaking with individuals,
or simply trying to keep the frightened but morbidly curious crowd back. Harry paused for a moment,
refusing to let his fear or anxiety control him, but allowing a white hot anger to burn through
him, clearing his mind and allowing him to focus. He stepped forward through the crowd.

One of the Aurors stepped forward to intercept him and backed up a step when he saw the dark
unruly hair and the light scar on the forehead. But that wasn't what made him step backward, it
was the flashing green eyes that seemed to reflect a barely controlled rage raging within. “Lupin!”
called out the Auror. “You've got a guest!” He then pointed the young man in the direction of
the Chief Auror.

“Harry!” called out the concerned werewolf. “I'm not sure you need to see this,
it's…”

“It can't be any worse than anything else I've ever seen,” stated Harry quietly. “Just
tell me what happened. *Please.”*

Lupin sighed and led him inside before beginning. “About noon, there was an attack on the
patrons of The Three Broomsticks. Among the regulars there was a large group of students from
Hogwarts, uhh, including many of your friends, I'm sorry to say.”

“There were a bunch of them coming today to finish some last minute shopping,” added Harry.

Lupin nodded and continued. “There were at least a dozen attackers, and maybe two vampires
involved.”

“Are you sure they were vampires?” asked Harry.

“There's no doubt about it. From the survivor's descriptions of the attack and the
magical traces that have left behind, we're positive.”

Harry steeled himself for the question he had to ask. “You mentioned survivors. Were there
fatalities then?”

“Yes. None of the students died, but there were several that were hurt pretty badly. Ron
Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom are all in the hospital
wing, being taken care of by Madame Pomfrey. There were three adult wizards who were killed during
the attack.”

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. “So none of the girls were hurt?
I can't believe…”

“We don't know Harry. They're gone. The attackers took all the female students and left
everyone else behind.”

Suddenly the walls began to tremble and Lupin quickly reached out towards Harry and grabbed his
shoulder. “Calm down Harry. We're going to find them.”

“You have no idea what I've just seen Remus. We have to find them and find them now.
Before…before they…”

“What are you talking about Harry?” asked Remus.

Harry quickly informed him of the stakeout that he and Samuel had conducted this morning and
what they had discovered.

“But what doesn't make sense is the involvement of two real vampires,” muttered Harry. “I
don't get it.” Then he squared his shoulders. “And right now I don't care. Let me help you
look for clues Remus and let's find these guys.”

Remus looked as if he were going to refuse then simply nodded his head in agreement. “Fine, but
stick with me.” Harry helped Remus identify some of the different spells that were used and
listened in on several of the interviews, trying to get a clearer picture of what had happened. But
they still had no idea where they might have taken the girls. Harry was growing increasingly
frustrated. After an hour, he sighed in exasperation. “You said Ron and the others are in the
hospital wing? I'm going to go talk to them and see what they can tell me.”

Harry appeared in the infirmary and barely jumped out of the way as Madame Pomfrey nearly ran
over the top of him. She glared at him for a moment and then her gaze softened and she said simply,
“They're over there Mr. Potter,” nodding with her head.

Harry walked slowly by the beds where several of his dormmates were sleeping soundly, no doubt
under the influence of one of Pomfrey's potions.

“*Doesn't look like I'll be getting much out of these guys anytime soon.”*

Dean and Seamus had some nasty bruises and cuts, and Seamus' ribs were heavily bandaged, but
other than that they appeared all right. Neville on the other hand, looked a downright mess. Both
his eyes were black, his nose was three times its normal size, and he had a large square bandage on
his side. Harry detected the smell of gunpowder. “*They used guns! We're lucky more people
didn't die.”* He walked back to Dean and Seamus and detected the slight odor of burnt flesh.
On Dean's shoulder he saw what appeared to be a few tiny pinpricks. “*Is that one of those
tazers or a stun gun?”* he wondered as he shook his head.

“Harry,” mumbled a low voice and Harry turned to see Ron looking up at him sadly from one of the
beds.

“Ron! Are you OK?” Harry looked at his badly burned face covered with blisters. “It looks like
those guys had some pretty nasty…”

Just then, Malfoy, who was in the next bed over, leaned over his bed and coughed up another slug
into a huge pail by his bed. Harry glanced at him and then back at Ron who suddenly looked slightly
pale under his burns.

“stuff. But I think they were all Squibs or Muggles and the vampires didn't use any spells
like…so how did you two get hit with…”

Harry stopped and stared in growing anger as Draco and Ron exchanged a guilty look.

“You two were out dueling somewhere when the attack happened, weren't you? Draco is coughing
up slugs, one of your favorite curses Ron, and it looks like Draco hit you with one of his
favorites, the Burning Blister hex.”

“Harry, it wasn't my fault. Malfoy said…”

“I DON”T CARE WHAT HE SAID!” screamed Harry. “I asked you to watch out for Hermione last night.
I told you not to let her out of your sight. You said you would. YOU SAID YOU WOULD PROTECT
HER!”

“Harry…”

“I don't want to hear it! Look at those other guys. They gave everything they had to protect
the girls. Another couple of inches to the right, and Neville would have been dead. He nearly died
protecting the girl he loves. YOUR SISTER! And where were you two prats?! Off settling some stupid
grudge over some silly comment one of you made. I thought you liked Gabrielle, Draco. I thought you
cared for her. Apparently trying to put down Ron is more important.

And YOU! I thought you cared for Luna. I know you love your sister. But once again you've
let your stupid pride and anger do all the thinking for you and make decisions for you.

Congratulations you two idiotic berks! I hope you're happy. I hope one of you made your
point. Because now they're gone. And I've seen what these kidnappers do to the people they
snatch. THEY BLEED THEM DRY, THEY DRINK THEIR BLOOD, AND THEN THEY BURN THEIR BODIES!!!”

“Harry! That's enough,” commanded Dumbledore in a stern tone. Only then did Harry notice the
horrified group of students and faculty around him who were visiting or treating the injured.

“If you want to sugarcoat it for them, fine Dumbledore. I don't have time right now to worry
about hurt feelings or any of that crap. I've got to go find these guys before they finish off
my best friends.” Without another word Harry disappeared.

“Harry,” muttered Ron, with tears rolling down his face. “I'm sooo sorry. I'll make it
up to you somehow, I swear,” he vowed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“You're not going anywhere Mr. Weasley,” insisted Madame Pomfrey.

“But I've got to…”

“If I were you, Mr. Weasley, I would give Harry a little bit of space right now,” advised
Dumbledore. “There is nothing you can really do right now, Lupin and the other Aurors are
investigating the scene right now. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this, it is not
your fault.”

“But I should have been there. Harry's right. I should have been with my sister and Luna and
the others. I should have been watching Hermione like I had promised. If anything happens…”

“We will worry about that later, Mr. Weasley. For right now, you need to rest so that the potion
can help with your burns.” Ron laid back down, but did not rest easily.

*-*-*

Harry reappeared in The Three Broomsticks in a towering rage. For a few minutes he watched the
other Aurors continue their investigation while he tried to control his anger. Remus tried to
approach him but he simply shook his head—he didn't want to talk to anyone right now. Then he
slapped his hand to his forehead. “I'm such an idiot! I should be back with Samuel, looking for
clues there. That's where we'll find our lead, not here.” Before Lupin could say anything,
Harry disappeared once again.

When he reappeared in the basement a moment later, he discovered to his surprise that it was
completely empty. Swearing under his breath, Harry glanced around the room quickly, trying to find
anything that might indicate why Samuel had left. On the back table he found a hastily scribbled
note.

“I found this rental deposit for a small warehouse in the village of Braemuir. It's very
close to both Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. I waited for you to return and when you didn't I assumed
your friends were in danger and that speed was of the essence. I'm heading there now. Hurry if
you don't want to miss all the fun!”

Harry slammed his fist on the table and grabbed up the scraps of paper with the address on it
and disappeared once again.

He reappeared within the smoldering remains of The Three Broomsticks and looked for Lupin. He
stepped over to him quickly and whispered. “I think I've got something. Samuel found an address
in Braemuir and went to investigate. I'm going to go find him. I'll be back in a few
minutes to let you know if I found anything.”

Lupin grabbed his elbow. “I'm coming with you. Let me grab a few Aurors.”

“Fine,” hissed Harry. “But hurry.” Harry pulled his broom back out of his pouch and waited
impatiently for Lupin and half a dozen Aurors to get their equipment. They then took off, Lupin and
Harry leading the way, flying low and fast towards the small village. They landed on the outskirts
and Harry cast a few quick transformation spells to alter the clothing of the Aurors so they could
blend in. Then he and Lupin quickly found the street and the small building with the address Samuel
had left. Lupin motioned for several of the Aurors to go around behind and then he and Harry went
through the front door after checking it for traps.

There was nothing of interest on the first floor, but Harry and Lupin both detected the faint
sound of someone crying. Glancing at each other, they moved quickly through the rows of crates,
looking for a trapdoor or a set of stairs leading down. On one wall by a half open door they found
two mangled bodies. Harry looked at the condition and his eyes widened in recognition.

“Aardus!” he cursed. “What are you doing here?”

“Aardus?” asked Lupin. “Wasn't he…”

“Yeah. We just keep bumping into him.” Nodding towards the two mutilated bodies he added.
“I'd recognize his work anywhere.”

Harry stepped past the two bodies and down the stairs, Lupin covering him. Harry nodded at the
bottom of the stairs and Lupin descended quickly. They found three more dead bodies sprawled on the
floor and went through the next door where the sound of sobbing had grown louder. The inside of the
room resembled a nightmare from hell. There were over a dozen bodies lying everywhere in the room
with blood splattered everywhere. About half of the bodies had dark bags over their heads and their
arms tied behind their backs. Some of them were shaking as they cried, but at least they seemed to
be alive. There were half a dozen bodies with their throats ripped out, lying in various positions
throughout the room. Four more bodies were bound with cords or Stunned, but their throats too had
been torn out. Harry could easily distinguish between the handiwork of the vampire and the American
Grey Warlock. Remus spotted Samuel against the far wall, lying on his side and bleeding profusely,
and moved over quickly. Harry and the other Aurors quickly began untying the girls and pulling off
their masks.

Harry noticed that Ginny was unconscious and appeared to have a broken arm and a broken leg.
“*Apparently she didn't go down without a fight**. Unlike that prat of a
brother**,”* he thought to himself. Luna, too, had a number of bruises and abrasions. He
glanced over at Samuel as he was releasing the bonds on Gabrielle and realized he had been shot at
least twice by a Muggle firearm. He didn't see any spell damage. “Get him to Pomfrey now Lupin.
You know what kind of damage a gun can do right?”

Lupin nodded grimly. “Silver bullets are a weapon of choice for werewolves among Muggles. Much
better than silver swords or arrowheads.”

Harry finished with Gabrielle and stood up and looked around. Then he realized something he
should have noticed right away. All of the girls but Ginny were up and awake. But Hermione was not
in the room. He could sense neither her nor Saldar—wherever they were, it was very far away. Never
had he felt so alone in his life.

“Hermione! Hermione! Where are you?!” There was no answer as Lupin looked at him sadly. The
walls began to shake again as Harry kept screaming out her name.

-->



34. Unraveling Riddles
----------------------



Ch 34 Following a Cold Trail

Lupin shouted out to Harry as the room grew colder and the walls shook more furiously. “Harry!
Harry! We'll find her but we need to get everyone here back to Hogwarts. Can you teleport
Samuel back and then I'll take the girls back…”

“Harry. Harry, we need your help. We need to get the others back to Hogwarts, you're the
only one that can help right now,” urged Luna as she gently grasped his elbow.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked, as if seeing the room and its occupants for the first time.
He turned to look at Luna and took the hood that had been on her head and muttered “*Portus.”*
Giving it back to her, he added *“*Have the other girls hold on to it and say `Hogwarts.'
I've bypassed the wards so that it will take you all straight to the hospital wing.” He then
ran over to Samuel's side and looked up at Lupin with concern. “Do we dare teleport him in this
condition?”

“I'm afraid he won't last long enough to make the trip on a broom.”

“What if I bring a Healer to stabilize him until he can be moved?”

“That will be fine, but hurry. Bring back Nuncy. She's the best in London.”

Harry nodded and disappeared.

He appeared at the front desk of the Wizarding hospital to a very surprised reception witch. “I
need to find…”

“Excuse me young man, but I was here first. I simply have to have this wart removed, now please
step aside.”

“And I have a friend who's bleeding to death as we speak so I think you can wait just a
bloody minute,” countered Harry angrily.

“Now listen here you cheeky little”

Harry whirled on him, his eyes blazing. “If my friend dies I guarantee that wart will be the
least of your problems when I'm through with you.” Harry then turned back to the frightened
receptionist and demanded, “Where is Dr. Nuncy?”

“She—she's on the fourth floor Mr. Potter,” she managed.

“Pot—Potter?” stammered the suddenly pale wizard, but Harry had already disappeared.

“Dr. Nuncy! Dr. Nuncy!” shouted Harry on the fourth floor.

At the end of the hall out stepped a middle-aged, dark haired woman with glasses. “What is all
the fuss about? I'm not deaf,” she declared.

“Dr. Nuncy, my friend has been badly hurt. He's bleeding severely and we weren't sure we
could Apparate him safely. I need to take you to him right away. Is there anything you need?” asked
Harry quickly as he ran towards her.

“Who are…are you Harry Potter?”

“Yes. Can you help?”

“Of course, just let me grab my bag and my broom and we'll go straight…”

“Forget the broom, I'll take you straight there myself.”

She looked at him oddly for a moment and then ducked into her office. She quickly reappeared
with a large black satchel in one hand and her wand in the other.

“Is that all you need?” asked Harry. At her nod, he reached for her shoulder and they reappeared
at Samuel's side. Lupin was still there, pressing hard on Samuel's side with some torn
robes. There were several Aurors inspecting the room, looking for clues, but all the girls had gone
back to Hogwarts.

Dr. Nuncy paled slightly at the scene in the room, but moved quickly towards Samuel and opened
her satchel. She gave him a potion that seemed to relax him and then moved Lupin aside to examine
his wounds. She frowned and pulled out several more vials and her wand. “If you two want to be
useful, make me a clean table, some sheets, and we'll put him on it so I can start. Hurry.”

Harry and Lupin quickly did as they were asked, creating as sterile an environment as they could
so she could work on Samuel. “Check for vampire bites as well,” urged Harry.

“Vampire…but he's been shot. Why would there be…”

“It's a long story, just trust me,” replied Harry.

Realizing there was no more they could do, Harry turned towards Lupin. “Have they found anything
yet? Any clue about…”

“No, nothing yet Harry. We've barely started. If you want to stay here with Samuel, I'll
go talk to the girls. They might know something.” Harry nodded and Lupin left. Tired of watching
Dr. Nuncy work, he wandered around the room, trying to make sense of the awful events that had
taken place earlier in hopes of discovering a clue. Frustrated by the lack of evidence, he went to
examine the bodies outside the room with few hopes. To his astonishment, he saw that one had tried
crawling away and was now collapsed on its face again about eight feet from the door. He hurried to
the man's side and quickly rolled him over. Leaning down, he could barely hear the man's
labored breathing.

Harry shouted “*Mobilocorpus,”* and floated the unconscious man back into the main room.
“Dr. Nuncy! Can you save this one—he might have the answers we need to find the other girl that was
kidnapped.”

She looked over at him sadly. “I cannot save both, they are hurt too badly. It has to be one or
the other…”

“Then save him,” he insisted immediately, nodding towards Samuel. “I'll take this one back
to St. Mungo's.”

“He may not survive long after the trip or...”

“But you can't do anything for him here and he's going to end up at the Ministry sooner
or later anyways. Besides, if he dies after I talk to him—believe me, it's no big loss. Who
should I have work on him?”

“Have Willard look at him. He's the best.”

“That's what Lupin said about you.” Then Harry and the severely injured man teleported toe
the hallway on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's.

“Dr. Willard! Dr. Willard!”

“What the bloody hell is going in here?” stammered a wild haired wizard who poked his head out
of a door twenty feet away. “Is this a hospital or a Quidditch pitch? What do you want?” he shouted
back irritably.

“I need you to save this man's life if you can. He has information about half a dozen
kidnappings and murders.”

Finally seeing the heavily bleeding man floating behind Harry, he ran out of his office towards
the two. “Did you—did you Apparate him here? That can be extremely dangerous for the…”

“I know, I know. We didn't have much choice. He would have bled out where he was. And no, I
teleported him here,” explained Harry.

“Well, help me move him into a room where I can work on him,” commanded Dr. Willard.

“Hey!” shouted a man who then stepped out of Dr. Willard's office. “What about my wart?! I…”
He stopped when he saw Harry glaring at him in the hall and quickly ducked back into the office.
Harry would have chuckled if he wasn't worried sick about Hermione right then. His earring in
his left ear was still warm, so he knew she was still alive, but he didn't know for how much
longer. He had to find some answers quickly. Realizing there wasn't much more he could do until
the doctors were finished, he returned to the hospital wing at Hogwarts.

*-*-*

When Harry returned to the hospital wing, he noticed that it was even fuller than before. He
quickly found where the girls were resting. They were all asleep except for Luna.

“Luna? Did you…”

She looked up from the Auror who was talking to her. “I'm sorry Harry. Everything happened
so fast. There were so many of them. And…”

“That's OK, Luna. Just take a moment and breathe…” urged Harry.

Luna paused for a moment, catching her breath and trying to calm herself. She then closed her
eyes, as if trying to recall the events more vividly.

Harry listened with quiet intensity, nearly willing her to recall some small clue that might
help him find Hermione.

“There were seventeen in all, twelve men and three women…”

“What?!” interrupted the Auror.

“Shhh!” hissed Harry at the man angrily. “Let her finish then ask your follow up questions.”

“I think they were all Squibs, none of them used wands that I saw, but yet they knew enough
about magic to take all of our wands, bind our hands, gag us, and put hoods over our heads. But the
other two, they…they weren't human. They looked human, but there was something…something dark
about them, a feeling, a sense, I…”

“They were probably vampires, Luna. I know at least one of them was. Please go on.”

“That explains how they just moved from shadow to shadow. The male vampire, he just suddenly
appeared right behind Hermione while we were all waiting for our sandwiches at the table. She
seemed to know something was wrong because she half turned and stood up—she moved so fast I
couldn't believe it but he was even faster. He grabbed her wrist and whispered something and
she tried to fight but she couldn't move and then the other one appeared beside her and then
Hermione fell into his arms unconscious. By then we were all standing up and moving but it was no
use. I caught one with an elbow but I felt something stab me in the side and I felt like I was on
fire and my body started to jerk and then I passed out. But before I went down I saw Ginny knock
down two with some pretty nasty curses. I think Neville got a few, too, but I don't remember
anything after that for a while.

I remember waking up and still having the hood over my face. I could hear some of the other
girls crying quietly and some people talking angrily in the background. I couldn't really make
out what they were saying and then I heard someone shout out loud `You owe us! The girls are for
us! Their blood is ours! We demand our reward!”

And…and then there was this low, bitter laugh. It made me shiver just to hear his voice. He
laughed and said, `They are not yours, their blood is not yours, but you're welcome to try and
take it if you wish.' Then he laughed again and there were shouts and screams and then nothing.
I don't know how long it was until you and Samuel arrived, but if you hadn't found us…”

Harry leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks, Luna, that helps a lot. Unless the
Auror has any more questions, why don't you try and rest as well. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey
gave you a potion…”

Luna smiled slightly. “I don't care for them much. Besides, I was hoping to stay awake long
enough to be of some help. How are Ron and Ginny doing?”

Harry's face tightened with anger.

“Harry, I know what Ron and Malfoy did was stupid, but it wouldn't have made any difference
whether they were there or not. It was a perfectly planned ambush, we had no idea what hit us.
I'm not mad at them for not being there. You shouldn't be either.”

Harry simply clinched his jaw, but said nothing.

“Would you have been happier if he had been killed trying to defend us like those other wizards?
Like Neville nearly was?”

Harry glared at her, but managed to mutter a low “No,” in response.

“Then try and forget about it Harry. Because I don't think Ron will. If there is a trait
that Ron has that's more powerful than his pride or anger, it is his sense of loyalty. And if
he believes that he has somehow let you or Hermione down or betrayed you somehow, he'll
probably never forgive himself. No matter how angry you are with him right now, there is nothing
you can do to him that will be worse than his own sense of guilt over what happened.”

Harry's features softened somewhat and he whispered, “You sound a lot like…” He stopped
suddenly and stood up awkwardly, as a flash of pain crossed his face. “Thanks again Luna, I'll
be back later to check in on you and the others.”

*-*-*

Several hours later, Harry was in a thundering rage by the time he teleported into
Dumbledore's office. Glaring around at the portraits in the empty room, Harry bellowed,
“Dumbledore! Dumbledore! Where are you?!!”

“Harry, please come in. We've been looking for you…” stated Dumbledore as he stepped out
from a door on one side of his office and waved his hand, beckoning Harry to come forward. He
noticed how very cool the air felt and the rattling of several of his instruments as the slight
tremors shaking the room bounced them against each other.

“At least you're here. I haven't been able to find anyone else, I'm sure they're
trying to help Hermione, but I can't find any of them,” spat out a very agitated Harry as he
began pacing back and forth in Dumbledore's office.

“Harry, they're all right…”

Harry kept talking quickly as if he hadn't even heard Dumbledore speak. “I'm running out
of leads. There's nothing at either of the warehouses, no clues or hints at all about where
they might have taken her or why. I've spoken with the Aurors who examined the rooms and
I've double-checked them again myself. There's nothing of help there. None of the other
girls or witnesses knew anything more than Luna did and Samuel is still out cold, muttering
nonsense in his sleep. The Squib managed to survive, but the Aurors have taken him somewhere to
interrogate them and they won't let me talk to him…”

“Harry, if you'll just…” tried Dumbledore, but Harry continued, as his pacing increased and
the speed and volume of his voice increased.

“I've got to talk to him—I don't have any other leads…If that damn Squib can't tell
me anything than I'll have nothing to go on. Nothing!” The temperature continued to drop
steadily and the tables were vibrating more strongly.

“Harry, you need to calm down and…”

“Don't tell me that I need to calm down! I AM CALM!” shouted Harry as a fire exploded in
Dumbledore's fireplace. Harry pounded one of the tables with both of his fists, knocking
several of Dumbledore's items tumbling to the floor. Then he glared over at Dumbledore and
hissed angrily, “There hasn't been a ransom or a list of demands from the vampires, which means
they're not interested in giving her back, and we both know what that…”

“Harry, we're doing everything we can do…”

“HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?! WHAT ELSE ARE WE DOING TO FIND HER?!”

“Harry, I assure that we are doing everything possible to find her,” insisted Mr. Weasley,
stepping out of the same room Dumbledore had emerged from several moments earlier. “It appears that
Fudge did not get along with several other ministers, but I am doing what I can to repair those
relationships and get their help in…”

“What?! Repairing relationships…other ministers…what are you babbling about!” exploded
Harry.

“That's enough,” stated Remus forcefully as he too emerged from the room. “I understand that
you're upset Harry, but that is no way to treat the Minister of Magic, let alone a good
friend.”

Harry glared at him and then turned his back on all of them, leaning heavily on one of the
tables with clenched fists, struggling to gain control of his volatile emotions.

“Harry?” he heard two soft voices from behind him. He turned to see both Mrs. Weasley and Mrs.
Granger approach him. His face softened as his mouth opened in surprise. Mrs. Weasley saw Mrs.
Granger approaching and paused to let her go to Harry, though she seemed to want to try and hug
Harry and comfort him as well. Over Mrs. Granger's shoulder, he saw Mr. Granger standing
quietly by Remus and Mr. Weasley.

His voice trembling slightly, Harry hugged Mrs. Granger back fiercely as she threw her arms
around him. “I…I'm sooo sorry. This is all my fault. I should never have left her alone.
I'm sorry that I…”

“Shush, Harry. We don't blame you at all. This isn't your fault. There, there, it's
alright Harry,” she soothed as she tried to calm him down. For a moment, Harry relaxed in her arms
but then he backed away and turned his back towards her and everyone else in the room. She tried to
reach for him but held back, her hand only a few inches from his shoulder. Once again he leaned
over one of the tables, trying to regain his inner balance. Mrs. Granger slowly backed away and
stood by her husband. The temperature had warmed momentarily, but then dropped to arctic levels
despite the roaring fire that shook the fireplace as Harry turned back towards the group as the
walls and floor resumed their trembling.

When Harry raised his gaze towards the group, he looked first at Dumbledore. His green eyes
blazed with intensity and the very air crackled with energy. Both women gasped as a similar thought
struck both Lupin and Arthur at the same time. They shivered as they wondered if those fierce,
blazing green eyes were the last thing Voldemort ever saw. Even Dumbledore seemed somewhat
surprised by the power and intensity, the raw emotion, pouring off of Harry. He spoke in a very
low, raw voice that shook slightly, as if he were barely in control. “I will find her. I don't
care how far they've taken her or where they've hidden her. If I have to take apart every
castle and catacomb from here to Beijing stone by stone, I *will* find her.” He then looked
towards Hermione's parents. “I give you my oath that I will not rest until I have found
Hermione and brought her back. I swear it.”

The wizards and Mrs. Weasley gasped, and then Mr. Weasley stepped forward. “Harry, I will do
everything I can to find her. I promise. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, if you will please follow me. Molly,
you too, please.” The three looked slightly surprised but then followed him out, though Molly and
Mrs. Granger looked like they wanted to say something more to Harry.

Arthur led them all down the stairs and towards the front doors of the castle. He took them to
the front gates and then created a portkey to take the Grangers home. “I'll see you in the
Burrow shortly Molly. I'll take the Grangers home.” She nodded and disappeared. A moment later
the three found themselves in the Granger kitchen. “I am truly sorry for the disappearance of
Hermione. She is a very good friend of our family. I promise you that we will do everything in our
power to find her and bring her back.” He paused and then added. “I'm sure you realize that
Harry cares very deeply for your daughter. What you may not realize is that Harry made a very
special promise tonight. He made what is known as a wizard's oath and as such it cannot be
ignored or broken without suffering severe consequences. One does not make such an oath
lightly…”

“What kinds of consequences are you talking about? Could he get arrested or something?”

Arthur chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “No, no. It depends on the oath and the power of
the witch or wizard who makes it. Some have lost their magical powers, some have been driven mad,
some have even lost their lives…”

“Oh my!” exclaimed Mrs. Granger as she clasped her hand over her mouth.

Her husband whispered, “I remember him saying that she means more to him than anything, that he
would do anything for her, and I thought he was sincere…but I thought perhaps he was exaggerating…I
mean, most boyfriends say similar sorts of things, but…but I certainly never expected something
like this…”

“Harry is an outstanding young man and one of the most powerful wizards that has ever lived. If
anyone has a chance of finding your daughter and returning her safe and sound, it will be Harry. I
just thought you should know. I will be back tomorrow to give you an update. Try and get some
sleep,” he advised and then he disappeared, leaving two very tired and sad parents in a dark, quiet
house.

*-*-*

Meanwhile Harry turned to stare at the remaining figures in Dumbledore's office.

“Now listen closely Harry,” instructed Remus.

“I don't need another lecture,” argued Harry.

“LISTEN!” roared Remus. “Our international relations with other ministries are not particularly
good right now. Fudge was extremely unpopular and disliked and many are still ashamed that they did
not do more to help us during our wars with Voldemort. There are a few officials that are still
irritated by the snub you gave them at the Order of Merlin ceremony…”

“But…” interjected Harry.

“JUST LISTEN!” repeated Remus. “I didn't say their behavior was justifiable or even
sensible, I am just describing for you the state of affairs. Now Arthur has been able to repair our
relationships with several ministers, and he is working very hard with others. He has been in
contact with a number of foreign officials today, and gotten quite a few promises of help.

Within our own department, we have made a lot of changes—thanks in large part to some records
that came into our possession from the late Minister Fudge. But there are a few powerful
individuals that resent Arthur and especially myself. Many of the Aurors view me as an outsider as
well as barely human and didn't particularly appreciate my appointment. Several Aurors were not
happy that I allowed you to participate in the investigations today, since you are technically not
an Auror. I am not at all surprised that some of them have not been very helpful to you in my
absence.

All I can say Harry, is that since you are not an Auror, you are not *officially* allowed
to visit any prisoner we may have in custody.”

Harry started to say something, but stopped at the glare he received from Remus.

“Now if that is perfectly clear, then I will be returning to Headquarters to see whether the
interrogation has revealed any new information. If not, we will continue questioning the suspect
tomorrow morning. If we find anything useful, we will of course share it as quickly as possible. I
am sure you remember some of the limitations of Veritaserum from Professor Snape's class—while
it functions very effectively with wizards, witches, and muggles, because of their inability to
channel magic properly, the potion does not work very well on Squibs.” Then he stared intently at
Harry. “Do you understand?”

Harry stared at him for a full minute, analyzing both the direct explanations and the more
subtle messages Lupin had shared, and then nodded his head slowly.

“Good. Then have a good evening. I'll be in touch tomorrow.” And Lupin left without looking
back.

With the room at a more comfortable temperature, Harry turned to Dumbledore. “I'm sorry
about my outbursts earlier, I…”

“We are all very worried about Miss Granger. But you have many friends and allies who are eager
to assist you. Please do not leave us behind.”

Harry nodded. “I better head to bed. Tomorrow will probably be a long day.”

“I'm sure it will Harry. If you need anything, I am always here to help. Please don't
try and do everything yourself.”

Harry didn't answer, he just said good night before he disappeared.

Dumbledore sat down tiredly behind his desk and steepled his hands, deep in thought about what
he had observed. He heard the stairs moving and Professor McGonagall knocked at his door.

“Come in Minerva,” he called out. “How are the other students doing?” he asked as she entered
and sat down across from him.

“They're doing fine. Several of the girls are extremely shaken up, but hopefully with time
will be able to deal with this horrible experience. They are Gryffindors, after all. Miss Lovegood
and Miss Weasley are healing quickly—I doubt Madame Pomfrey will be able to keep them past tomorrow
morning. I had to threaten Miss Weasley with a full body bind unless she agreed to stay the night
under observation—she is very anxious to try and be of some assistance. The boys will be all right,
even Mr. Longbottom, though it was touch and go there for a little while. He reminds me more and
more of his parents every year. As for Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, they are more embarrassed and
ashamed than anything else. As you may recall, Mr. Potter had some rather harsh words with both of
them, and they took it very hard, especially Mr. Weasley. Samuel is still feverish and unconscious,
Dr. Nuncy is still worried about him—he lost a lot of blood before Mr. Potter and Remus found
him.”

“I will speak with Dr. Nuncy and visit him later this evening. The Weasleys were just here
visiting with Remus and I while I explained the situation to the Grangers. Arthur and I will keep
in close contact with them. But it is Harry and Hermione that I am truly worried about.”

“Harry?” asked McGonagall.

“Yes. He is handling it better than I had feared, but not as well as I had hoped. He is very
frustrated and is having a difficult time controlling his emotions. He very nearly brought down the
tower this evening. And he swore a wizard's oath that he would find Hermione and bring her
back.”

“He did what?! Oh my, Albus, what can we do?”

“I am afraid there is not much more we can do at the moment. I have a few more old friends to
contact but I have never had much reason to seek out vampires in the past. Ironically, I believe
Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger have more experience speaking with vampires than I do. Arthur and Remus
will do what they can, but unless either the Squib Harry rescued can tell us something or Samuel
learned something before he was wounded and can recover enough to tell us, we have very few leads
to help us find Hermione.”

Professor McGonagall dropped her head in sorrow as Dumbledore sat thoughtfully for a few more
moments. “Why don't you try and get some rest Minerva. Perhaps tomorrow will provide us with
more hope than tonight.” As she left, he turned towards his fire and began calling on some of his
oldest friends, hoping they might be able to help somehow.

*-*-*

Harry reappeared in the room he shared with the other Gryffindor seventh year boys, but he had
no intention of going to sleep. He had finally managed to bank the flames of anger that had been
threatening to explode all night and was using that energy to help him focus on the tasks that lay
ahead. He realized now that much of the anger had been from the uncertainty of the situation and a
lack of clear goals. His building frustration had made it difficult to see possible opportunities
or think of new approaches. But his conversation with Remus and Dumbledore had helped him calm down
enough to see how foolishly he was behaving. He didn't have time to waste on temper tantrums or
emotional outbursts, he would need all of his energy and all of his focus to think of every
possible thing he could do to find Hermione. The energy from his anger and rising frustration was
now being channeled into more productive pursuits. He felt cool and analytical, almost emotionally
detached, as he analyzed the little evidence he had from every conceivable angle and pondered
possible explanations even as he tried to think of new approaches he might take. He realized that
he couldn't allow his emotions to overcome him, or he would never find Hermione. And that was
simply unacceptable. So he buried his fears and his doubts, covered them with rage and anger, and
then walled off those emotions with a tremendous effort of will and self-control so that he could
focus on solving the problem before him—finding Hermione.

Harry grabbed a large, dark cloak and cast a *Midnight Shadow* charm on it. Smiling grimly,
he put it on, pulled the hood over his face and checked in the full length mirror that Seamus kept
at the end of his bed. With the charm on the hood, not even Harry could see his own face in the
mirror. He quickly altered the rest of his clothing so that he was dressed entirely in black.
Satisfied with his appearance, Harry teleported to Auror headquarters.

*-*-*

The Squib leaned back on his bed against the stone wall and chuckled. He knew that without
Veritaserum, they would never be able to prove anything. And he and his friends had been reading
about the new Minister of Magic, how he was trying to make a more fair justice system. He reckoned
there were plenty of new loopholes in the new legal system that a good lawyer would be able to
exploit. Besides, he could always claim that he had been a kidnap victim as well. After all,
hadn't that damned vampire attacked him and the rest of his friends as well? He could always
say that he had been forced to help with the kidnapping of those girls. Dozens of Death Eaters had
gotten off in the past using the `*Imperious* plea' to get them out of a sentence to
Azkaban. He laughed again as he realized the many ways in which he could play the system to his
advantage.

Suddenly he noticed a dark figure standing in his room. “What do you want? You can't just
barge in here! I have rights!”

The dark cloaked figure said nothing but simply stepped closer. He suddenly noticed that the
figure was dressed entirely in black. And he hadn't opened the door—he was sure of that. He
would have heard the rusty hinges squeak. But he hadn't Apparated either, there had been no
pop. He felt slightly unnerved, which was indicated in the slightly shaky tone in which he uttered
his next few sentences.

“Look, I already told your other Auror buddies that I don't know anything about no girl. I
was as much a victim as…” He stopped speaking as he was suddenly thrown from his bed to land hard
on the floor. He landed on his hands and knees, scraping both, and looked up at the dark figure.
Angry, he rose quickly as if he were going to attack the figure with his bare hands. The figure
merely raised an arm and made a quick gesture to the side. Suddenly the man was slammed against the
wall. He slowly turned to see what had hit him and his eyes widened in shock. The bed frame itself
was twisting and moving as if it were alive. Part of the metal frame was pressing his back flat
against the wall and pinned his legs there as well. Two of the legs had then isolated his arms, and
slowly moved them down next to his side. He struggled to break free, but it was no use—he was no
match for the metal strength of the animated bedframe.

He looked at the approaching figure in growing fear. The figure flicked the fingers of his open
palm back towards his body and the only chair in the room levitated and then flew slowly to him.
Suddenly he spread his fingers apart widely, and the chair pulled itself apart. The shadowy figure
then grabbed each half of the chair, swirled them in the air and transformed them into a pair of
swords that glinted wickedly in the faint candlelight of the room.

Sweat broke out on the man's face as he began to scream. “Guards! Guards! Help! One of your
Aurors is trying to murder me! Help me!”

The figure paused for a moment with both swords raised, their tips pointed at the man's
eyes. The screaming grew louder and more frantic as the man began to thrash wildly against the cold
metal holding him pinned to the wall. The figure simply waited patiently, never saying a word as
the man's struggles slowly quieted. After nearly ten minutes, the man looked up at the grim
figure, sobbing hysterically.

“What do you want? I'll tell you whatever you want to hear, just…just don't kill
me!”

There was a flash of light and the Squib closed his eyes, knowing he was dead. When he opened
his eyes, he realized that he could barely breathe or move his head. The figure had jammed the
swords into the wall on either side of his neck. He had also crisscrossed them, so that both blades
lay right against his neck. The slightest pressure on either blade would easily separate his head
from his body.

“If you kill me, I won't be able to tell you anything. I promise, I'll tell you
everything you want to know. You don't have to torture me—I'll talk.”

For the first time since he had arrived, the dark shadow spoke. “Oh, I'm sure you will. But
I don't have time to sort through your lies right now. These blades are simply to help me
maintain eye contact with you as I search through your mind for the information I need. It is
unfortunate that I have to do it, there is a witch who is much better than I at this sort of thing.
She could probably find the information we need and you wouldn't even know it—there
wouldn't be a trace of her presence left behind in your mind. But I am not nearly as gifted as
she is—I'm clumsy and I'm sure I'll have to use a lot of force to pry open your mind.
But don't worry, you probably won't remember a thing when you wake up in the mental ward of
St. Mungo's. I hear they treat people very well there which is good, because when I'm
through with you, you'll probably be stuck there for life. Yes, it's a shame that she
couldn't be here to do this, but since she's the one you and your friends kidnapped and she
is still missing, I guess we have no other choice. *Legi…”*

“Wait, wait! Stop! I told you I'll tell you everything you need to know. There's no
reason to scramble my brains to do it. I'll tell you everything.”

“I already said I don't have any time for your lies.”

“I won't! I swear it!”

“Very well, I'll give you one chance. But if I detect one lie it will be the last one you
ever tell.”

“There were fifteen of us who wanted to become vampires. We had tried a number of methods, but
Ruth said…”

“Save it for tomorrow. You can give all the names and information about your buddies to the
Aurors tomorrow. I'm interested in how you hooked up with two real vampires.”

“They contacted us. They said we were going about it all wrong…”

“Obviously. The only way to become a vampire is to be bit by one.”

“Then how did the first vampire emerge? That is what we were trying to discover. We wanted to
make ourselves into vampires. Any fool that is turned into a vampire is tied to the vampire that
turned him. We didn't want that. We wanted all the power without any of the ties.”

“And you believed that a pair of real vampires were going to tell you how to do that?”

“Well, errr, yes.”

“Go on.”

“These vampires contacted us several weeks ago. They told us the key was to use magical blood.
They suggested Hogsmeade, because it was close to the school of Hogwarts. They even suggested some
of the witches we should kidnap. They told us to watch out for them, especially one named Hermione
Granger, and when we saw them visiting Hogsmeade that they would help us capture them and then
finish the transformation…”

“And then they doublecrossed us. The female vampire, I think her name was Elysa, took the most
powerful witch, the Granger girl, the one we had been promised was key to the transformation. She
disappeared with her as soon as we left the Three Broomsticks. Then we began to argue with the
other one—he seemed slightly amused at first and then challenged us to try and take the blood from
the rest of the girls. We figured we could take him, we had him outnumbered fifteen to one…”

“You thought a dozen Muggles and a couple of Squibs could take on a vampire?”

“We weren't doing very well and then another man showed up, a wizard, and he nearly turned
the tide. He might have been able to kill the vampire and then Lizzie and Ted turned on him and
shot him from behind. They were afraid he might turn on us once the vampire was down. And we
thought we almost had the vampire beat. But he wasn't. He made short work of most of us left in
the room and five of us ran. I don't know if anybody else…”

“They didn't. You were the only survivor.”

The Squib gulped. “That's all I know. The girls, except the one that left, were all still
alive when I left. Everybody else in that room was dead or dying. When the vampire caught us
outside the room, he just tore into us and threw us around like rag dolls. I don't know how I
survived. The other witch, the one called Granger, was only there for maybe thirty seconds and the
other vampire disappeared with her. They never said anything about where they came from or what
they wanted. All I knew were their names. Elysa and Aardus. We thought they wanted to help us but
we were wrong. And I swear, that's all I know.”

“That's all you know?! They never mentioned anything about another…”

“Nothing. I wasn't one of the leaders—all I ever heard were their names. But they didn't
really chit chat with Meg or Lawrence either. They seemed really eager to kidnap this Granger, but
other than that—I don't know anything else. I would tell you if I did. I swear.”

“That's enough,” came the cold, angry reply. “You'll repeat all of this with all the
additional detail about your associates that you can with the Aurors tomorrow. You'll confess
your guilt to everything you've done, including all those murders in the other warehouse.
You'll do everything in your power to help and cooperate with this investigation or this little
nightmare you're having right now will become real. Do you understand?”

“Ye..yes,” came the shaky reply. With a wave of his arm, the shadowed figure restored the bed
and the chair to their normal positions. Then the shadow just disappeared as the Squib slowly fell
to his knees, sobbing in great heaves on the floor.

*-*-*

Back in the Gryffindor common room Harry stood in front of the large tapestry that led to
Hermione's room. The unicorn had its head lowered and was pawing angrily while the lion was
roaring loudly and appeared ready to spring forward.

“For the last time you stupid, silly creatures, I need to get in there to help her,” yelled a
very frustrated Harry. Harry cast a very powerful version of the *Alohomora* spell, only to
have it bounce off the tapestry and nearly miss a ducking fourth year student. Harry prepared to
launch another spell and every other student that was still in the room began diving for cover
behind tables, chairs, and sofas. A few moments later, Harry's voice cut through the
multicolored smoke drifting about the room. “Fine! I've tried not to destroy anything, but if I
have to tear down the wall itself I will!” The only response was a loud neighing from the unicorn
and a roaring challenge from the lion. “Fine!” shouted Harry. “I warned you!” The wall started to
shake and dust and small flakes of rock began to crumble from the stone face.

“What on earth is going on here?!” shouted McGonagall, standing in the portrait entrance and
surveying the wrecked room, the toppled furniture, and the huddled students hiding quietly. Sensing
that Harry was the cause of the general mayhem, she roared, “Harry James Potter! You better explain
yourself!”

“I need to get into Hermione's room! But these idiotic creatures refuse to allow me to
pass!”

“They're not supposed to allow anyone of the opposite sex into the room. They are part of an
ancient protective charm, similar to the girls' stairs,” she explained. “And since it is a Head
Girl's room, it won't open for any student at all.”

“I know that! But I need to get in there and…”

“Did you even think to ask one of the professors, someone like myself, to go in and get whatever
you so desperately need for you?”

Harry stood and stared at her with a blank look on his face for a moment, and then slowly
dropped his wand. “No.”

McGonagall took a deep breath as if to calm herself and then asked Harry as if she were speaking
to a six-year old. “And what would you like me to get for you?”

“I need her hairbrush.”

“Her what?!” She rolled her eyes and sighed at the same time. “I don't even want to know Mr.
Potter. If I retrieve her hairbrush for you do you promise not to finish destroying what is left of
the Gryffindor common room?”

“Yes, Professor,” replied Harry in a slightly subdued tone.

“Very well.” She stepped closer to the tapestry and placed her hand on its shimmering surface
softly. The lion and the unicorn both bowed their heads and McGonagall stepped between them and
disappeared. Then they both began glaring again at Harry, who returned their angry stare
wholeheartedly.

A moment later, McGonagall returned with a red hairbrush and slapped it into Harry's palm.
“Is there anything else Mr. Potter?”

“Umm, no. Thanks.” Harry turned from her and was halfway out the passage when she called out to
him again.

“And where do you think you are going? This room needs cleaned up and it is well after
curfew.”

Harry paused and looked back at the room. With a wave of his hand, the furniture throughout the
room placed itself upright again and the smoke was cleared out of the room. “If Dumbledore or Remus
learn anything, I'll be in the Room of Requirement,” he stated and then he disappeared as
McGonagall and the other students simply looked on in astonishment at his casual display of
wandless magic.

*-*-*

*“Enervate.”*

Instantly her mind cleared and she opened her eyes. Once again she went for her wand and tried
to draw the Sword of Gryffindor but a pair of powerful hands kept her arms pinned to her sides. She
raised her foot and stomped hard with her heel, finding a foot, but doing little damage. In sheer
frustration she snapped her head backwards, hoping to connect with the jaw of the person holding
her, but hit his chest instead.

“Struggle if you wish, but I assure you that escape will be quite impossible,” spoke a soft, yet
powerful voice. A voice that somehow seemed familiar.

“The witch has some powerful artifact in addition to her wand, Master Vespus. She tried to reach
it before.”

A dark figure approached her and a clawed hand cold as ice cupped her chin and raised it easily.
She tried to stare defiantly but felt the powerful gaze capture her eyes. She tried to look away
but found she could not. Instead she rallied her mental forces and strengthened her defenses.

“*Saldar!”* she called out desperately.

“*I am here Mistress. I will strengthen you as much as I am able, but he is a very old, and a
very powerful vampire.”*

“*An Eld**o**r?”*

*“I fear so Mistress.”*

Hermione shivered.

“Very impressive Miss Granger. It will truly be a pleasure turning you.”

Hermione's body stiffened in shock as the meaning of his words sank in.

“Aardus, examine this necklace for magical properties while Elyra checks her for any other items
she may have.”

Hermione recognized the other vampire from the attack at the Three Broomsticks as she
approached.

Hermione tried to lean back away from her when she reached to undo the clasp on the necklace.
The vampire raised a clawed hand and slapped her so hard she would have fallen if Aardus hadn't
held her. Her head snapped sideways and her vision dimmed for a moment. When she raised her head
again, her cheek bleeding slightly, the fire in Elyra's eyes chilled her to the bone. There was
a hunger in her eyes as she stared at Hermione's cheek that sickened her. As she leaned
forward, a clawed hand fastened on her throat in a vice like grip.

“Master Vespus said to search her, not beat her or feed on her blood.”

“Elyra!” snapped the low, powerful voice of the other vampire. “If you cannot control yourself,
I will allow Aardus to finish what he so earnestly desires to do.”

Elyra stood up, rage replacing the bloodlust in her eyes. “As you wish Master.” She reached to
pull the necklace off again and did so, much more roughly than was necessary.

She handed the necklace to Aardus, who held it in his hand and chanted a few spells. Meanwhile,
she slowly walked around Hermione and uttered a detection charm to discover enchanted objects.
Hermione's left side glowed a light blue. She stepped back in satisfaction.

“The necklace has two simple charms on it. A location charm and some sort of spell to indicate
how healthy the wearer is,” announced Aardus.

The vampire chuckled. “A gift from your boyfriend no doubt. Something to find you in case you
get separated, and something to let him know if you're in danger or injured. Unfortunately, not
very helpful to you right now, but very clever nevertheless. No doubt he is very frustrated right
about now since the magic hiding my castle is much more powerful than his feeble enchantments.”

Hermione straightened and looked directly at him. “He is clever enough to find me even without
it. He will come for me, and when he does, not even you will be able to stop him Corlyn. Or is that
even your real name?”

“Bravo. Bravo, my dear Miss Granger. It is so refreshing to deal with someone of intelligence.
Dumbledore was always very entertaining to deal with, much more so than most wizards in your world.
But he, too failed to guess my true nature.”

“Only because you helped him defeat a great evil.”

“Yes. For such an intelligent human, he can certainly be a trusting old fool. Besides, I have
much grander plans than either of those fools Grindelwald or Voldemort.” He chuckled before
continuing. “Humans, even wizards, are so shortsighted. They never see the bigger picture.”

“It doesn't matter, we will stop whatever you're trying to do.”

Corlyn stopped and looked at her in astonishment. “You haven't figured out what I'm
after yet? I thought you were a bright young witch…”

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what he was really after and where else she had
heard his voice. “You want the artifacts from Atlantis for yourself, don't you Primus?”

Corlyn clapped his hands together in admiration. “I knew you would figure it out eventually. But
you've never seen a meeting of the Council, unless—of course—Dumbledore. If anyone could figure
out a way around the oaths of secrecy, it would be Dumbledore.” He laughed again.

“Now, before we discuss what you've learned about Atlantis, we'll start with some easier
questions. What is the other item you have? What are its enchantments?”

Hermione stared back at him silently, once again strengthening her mental defenses with the help
of Saldar.

After a few moments of tense silence, Corlyn snapped out, “Aardus, take the item and examine
it.”

Hermione tried to step back again, but stopped when Aardus glared at her. He reached for the
beltloop and easily pulled it off the side of her pants. He studied it for a moment in his palm and
then muttered the counterspell that dispelled the illusion. The jeweled hilt of the Sword of Godric
Gryffindor appeared in his palm, still wrapped in its plain leather sheath. He unsheathed it and
then quickly grabbed the naked blade with his left hand—which happened to completely cover the name
of Godric Gryffindor etched into the surface.

Suddenly he winced as the blade bit deeply into his fist and blood began to trickle down the
blade. When the blood quickly disappeared he glanced at Hermione quickly and then returned to
studying the sword. He muttered a few words and then looked over at Corlyn.

“A finely crafted weapon, Master, but one of little danger to us. Its enchantments include the
ability to be easily hidden, as we have already seen. It also has a sharpening charm that keeps the
blade in perfect condition as well as a specialized transformation charm that allows it to alter
the length and weight of the blade depending on the wielder. It is made of silver and therefore
more deadly to a werewolf than a vampire.”

“What about the blood Aardus—what happened to it?”

Aardus glanced back at the dagger as he resheathed it and answered. “It seems as if the girl
can't stand the sight of blood—someone has placed a powerful cleaning charm upon it to preserve
its beauty.”

Corlyn chuckled. “Another pretty gift from the Potter boy? He does seem to take your safety very
seriously, which is why we had to make sure he was not around when we took you. Do not worry, you
will get over your aversion to the sight of blood.”

Hermione's blood ran cold for a moment before she replied heatedly, “He will come for me and
he will find me. And then he's going to…”

“I'm sure he will try. And I have no doubt that he will eventually find you, but I assure
you that you won't be in need of any rescue by then. And if he does find us, he will either
join us or be destroyed. Now, we will try this once more. Tell me all that you have learned of
Atlantis.”

Hermione just glared at him.

Corlyn laughed again. “By all means, continue to try and resist if it makes you feel better. But
remember, I *will* break you Miss Granger. It's only a matter of time. No mere human can
resist the power of an Eldor. And I have all the time in the world. Elysa, destroy the necklace and
the weapon.”

“Master, allow me to keep them for her. Potter will never be able to detect the necklace through
the ancient protections on the tower. And if he and Dumbledore do find their way here, we can use
his own gifts to set a trap for them and destroy them both if they do not join with us. And knowing
that we will use her own gifts against her and the Potter boy will weaken her ability to resist
your will, Master.”

“Yes, I love the irony of that Aardus as I'm sure you do. Very well, give Miss Granger back
her necklace but you keep the weapon for safekeeping. And you will stay here with Miss Granger
until she is willing to tell me all that she has learned of Atlantis. She will not rest, she will
not eat, she will not drink until then.” He bowed to Miss Granger as he left. “I am truly sorry you
forced me to do this Miss Granger, but I have no choice. I must have that information. Please save
yourself some pain and reconsider your attempt to defy me. You will not win. If you think you can
continue to defy me, have Aardus tell you his story. Your friends will not find you here. You are
all alone. There is no need to try and fight me, since I will get what I want one way or another. I
offer you power and wealth and immortality. I just need to know where to find the orb. But if you
continue to fight me, I will not be as generous.” He waited for a moment at the door, expecting her
to say something. As the silence continued, he glanced quickly at Elysa, who nodded briefly and
then turned his back on Hermione. “Aardus, no sleep, no food, no drink until she's ready to
talk!” he yelled angrily as he slammed the door shut.

Aardus handed the necklace back to Hermione with an inscrutable look on his face. Hermione
refastened it and backed up against the wall, where she sat down and put her face in her hands
tiredly.

She tried to ignore the cold, hate filled laughter that came from the female vampire. “Foolish
little girl. I don't know why the Master wastes his time toying with you. Believe me you
insolent little witch, if it were up to me, you'd be spilling your deepest secrets within the
hour.”

“Which is why he left me to guard her Elysa,” replied the chilling voice of Aardus, full of
malice, “because he knows what little restraint you have, *muthpa!”*

“Silence, you *pathwi!* The master knows of your continued fondness towards these humans,
which is why he left me as well, to make sure you did nothing to help her. You may fool the master
with your pathetic attempts to please him, but I know you Aardus. I know how you still long to
break free of his hold. You don't fool me. And I swear, one of these days I will have the proof
I need and he'll allow me to end your miserable existence once and for all.” Her fangs snapped
viciously as she finished speaking and there was an unholy glow in her eyes.

Aardus simply glared at her but said nothing while Hermione watched with intense interest at the
heated exchange between the two.

Then Elysa turned back towards Hermione and she tried to crouch back farther into the wall.
“Would you like to hear a story my little bloodfeast? Would you like to tell it or should I,
Aardus?” When Aardus remained silent, she laughed cruelly and continued in a cold, malicious voice.
“Several hundred years ago, while wars raged across 16th century Europe, there were a
number of other battles going on that most Muggles never knew about. While the European Muggles
were fighting each other over religion and territory, the wizarding world launched a number of
assaults on werewolves and vampires, trying to wipe them out as separate races. There were a number
of young wizards, eager for fame and glory, that went off to seek their fortunes in these
campaigns. One of the best, or so he thought, was a young Dark Hunter named Tomas Galvin of
Westbury. He tracked and killed werewolves and vampires across Europe for over a decade and made
quite a name for himself. Corlyn brags of your intellect, come, tell me, have you heard of
him?”

Hermione glanced quickly at Aardus and then looked back at Elysa and answered in a low voice.
“He was the most famous Dark Hunter from the Wars of Extermination during the 16th
century. He disappeared somewhere in Eastern Europe, chasing a vampire, and was never heard of
again.”

Elysa smiled, revealing her sharp fangs again. “Yes, young Tomas heard rumors of a very powerful
vampire to the East, in what is now known as Bulgaria. He eventually found the vampire he was
looking for, but discovered to his dismay that he was unable to destroy the vampire. The arrogant
young Hunter quickly discovered that he was no match for one of the ancient Eldor, the most
powerful of all vampires. Tomas must have been very surprised indeed when none of his weapons
worked against the Eldor, not even the wooden stake.” Elysa stopped the narration of the story as
she laughed for several moments. Regaining control, she finished. “Instead, the vampire turned the
young Hunter into what he despised and hated. He turned him and forced him to do his dirty work.”
She turned gleefully back towards Aardus and asked, “Did I leave out anything?”

“No,” came the quiet, angry response. “*But I will kill you Elysa, the first chance I get. I
swear you won't outlive your cursed master but an hour! When Potter and Dumbledore arrive, I
swear we'll end all of your miserable lives.”* Then he looked directly at Hermione and
thought, “*Hurry Potter, I can't protect her from them forever. Follow the clues I left and
hurry!”*

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Not only was it the first time she had actually sensed one
of the thoughts of any of the vampires, but she finally understood what was driving Aardus. She
tried calling out to him, but found his defenses had quickly been raised again after his angry
outburst.

“*Saldar, do you have any ideas about how we may contact him?”*

*“I do, Mistress, but I am not sure that would be wise.”*

*“What? Why?”*

*“Excepting thy kidnapping, everything he hath done hath been with the sole purpose of
protecting thee, and now we know why he didst that as well. We can assume that he shall continue to
try and help thee, but if we shouldst do anything to alter his mental connection to Corlyn, we
might doom both him and any hope we might have.”*

*“But maybe he can help us escape.”*

*“If he couldst have accomplished that, he would have done so already. Or he would never have
taken thee to begin with. No, there is something else at work that we do not comprehend fully.
Either he is waiting for the right moment, or there are powers of Corlyn that we are ignorant of
preventing him from taking certain actions. Perhaps he needs additional help or special
circumstances in order to break free of Corlyn's unholy hold over him, or he is hoping to end
the threat of Corlyn once and for all.”*

*“And that is exactly why we should try to contact him.”*

*“I understand Mistress, but…”*

*“You heard them. They're going to keep me here until they break my will to resist. And I
have no doubt that they will eventually—once my body is weak enough, my mental defenses will fall
Saldar. And then they'll know everything I have learned about Atlantis, and maybe it will be
enough for them to eventually find it. And…and it sounds like they're going to try and make me
a vampire. I…I can't let that happen Saldar! I won't! You have to help me! I can't do
this alone! I…”*

*“Please calm down Mistress, I am here with thee and I will never abandon thee. Pray listen to
my counsel. We have two choices. I have enough strength now to help reinforce your mental defenses
against Corlyn's attacks or to help break down those of Aardus. But I fear I do not have the
strength to do both. If y**e* *try to contact Aardus but either cannot or discover there
is nothing he can do right now, y**e* *will be much weaker when Corlyn renews his
assault. If we wait, marshalling our strength* *to resist* *until Master Potter and the
others arrive, then I can help you against Corlyn, though I am not sure how long we will be able to
withstand him. I will respect whichever* *course* *ye decidest upon**.”*

Hermione hesitated for but a moment, and then made her decision. “*He will come for me. We
will conserve our strength and* *fight off Corlyn as long as we can, and* *pray that*
*Harry* *makes it in time.”*

*-*-*

Four days later, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Remus and Arthur were in Dumbledore's office.

“Samuel is doing much better now. Dr. Nuncy says that with the successful blood transfusion, he
has finally stabilized. He woke up a half hour ago or so, and has been demanding to see Harry ever
since. He says he has an important message for him, but even he doesn't know what it means,”
reported a pale and worried McGonagall. “But apparently, nobody has seen Harry in nearly four days.
Not even Dobby.”

“I believe he's still in the Room of Requirement Minerva. But I have been unable to get past
the wards he has raised. You mentioned that he wanted a hairbrush from Miss Granger's
room?”

“Yes. I don't know what he wanted it for, I thought…”

Suddenly the doors burst open with terrible force. “IT'S NOT WORKING! I can't believe
it! Dumbledore! Are you in here!” In stormed a very tired looking, angry Harry holding a gold chain
and some sort of pendant.

“Harry, we've been trying to get in touch with you but the wards you put up were too…”

“What?!” Harry looked around in confusion at the various adults before he looked back at
Dumbledore. “I put up the wards to make sure I wasn't disturbed while I made this. Any
interruption and the pendant would have been ruined. Not that it matters that much, the bloody
thing's not working any better than the other one I made. What day is it anyways?”

“It's the 28th, four days after you nearly destroyed the Gryffindor common room,”
explained McGonagall.

“Four days?! I've been in there for four days?! Why didn't somebody come and tell me?
Have you found out anything new at all?”

“We tried, Harry, but I couldn't get past your defensive wards. And no, I am afraid we have
very little new information for you…”

“Well, that's just fabulous.” Harry took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down.
“Could you look at this? Could you tell me what I did wrong with it?” he asked Dumbledore as he
lifted the pendant.

Dumbledore picked it up and looked at the small heart shaped pendant with tiny lines running
around it. “Is this a…”

“Yeah. It's a tracking pendant. I took three of Hermione's hairs from her brush and made
it so that I could find her. But it's not working. I increased the amount of merillium and
added some crushed lodestone crystals—it should be strong enough to pick up a trace of her
anywhere. But there's nothing.”

Arthur and the others looked on in amazement. “You *created* a tracking pendant in only
four days? Normally something like that would take at least two months.”

“I didn't have time to wait. I needed it now. But I'm afraid it was just wasted effort.
It's not working like it should.”

Dumbledore was holding the pendant above his wand, letting it spin on its chain. “No Harry, it
is working perfectly. The problem is that wherever they have taken Hermione is guarded by very
powerful ancient magic. I would guess something similar to an *Unplottable* charm.”

“Damn!” blasted Harry as he pounded his fist on a table.

“However, there are two things you should know. You received this message two days ago by owl.
Dumbledore handed him a bulky sealed envelope that simply said Harry Potter on the outside.

“Fanmail? I thought I blocked all of that,” started Harry as he angrily tore open the envelope.
A small cell phone fell out and grabbed his attention however. He unfolded the accompanying letter
and scanned the rest of the brief message quickly.

*Harry,*

*I am sorry to hear of Hermione's abduction. If there is anything I can do to be of
assistance—anything at all—please contact me with this phone at anytime. Just dial *1 and it will
reach me or my answering machine. If I don't answer* *immediately**, I will contact
you exactly two hours later**. The phone will not work near magical areas such as your
school.*

*Yours in Service,*

*Y**.**”*

Harry stared at the phone for a moment, realizing the trust that the Yonnua had just shown in
Harry. Harry could contact him anytime and set him up to be captured, if he wanted. But the Yonnua
was willing to take that risk to help Hermione. He tossed the envelope and paper into the fire, and
placed the phone into his pouch as the other adults watched in slight confusion. Harry turned back
to Dumbledore and asked, “You said there was a second thing I should know about?”

“Yes,” replied Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. “Samuel is awake now.”

“He is? Does he know anything?”

“He seems to know something. He has a cryptic message for you, but we are not sure what it
means,” explained McGonagall.

Harry looked at her with puzzlement on his face.

“Let us go down and visit him. I, too, wish to hear for myself what he has to say,” encouraged
Dumbledore.

*-*-*

When Harry and the others arrived at the hospital wing a few minutes later, they found several
of the students along with Remus and Hagrid around his bed chatting casually with him.

Ron and Luna, Ginny and Neville all made to leave as they saw them arrive, but Dumbledore waved
them back, saying, “The more minds we have to work on this riddle, the better.”

Samuel looked up and saw Harry. “Harry, I'm so glad to see you,” he managed between
coughs.

“How are you doing Samuel?”

“I've had worse. Now listen close. When I got there, that bloody friend of yours was already
fighting with the wannabe vamps, well, actually he was just toying with them. So I went straight
for him. While we were fighting, two of those morons shot me in the back. That seemed to really
piss him off because then he stopped messing around and just started killing them. Then he came
back to me as I lay there on the floor. I thought he was going to finish me off when he leaned over
me but he just whispered something. This is what he said:

`Seek. Ivory retreat of nightly times over western Europe's rim. Search all. Refuse, confirm
everyone's doom. Hurry.'

He repeated it to me twice before he left.”

“Did he say what it was supposed to mean?” asked Harry.

“No. He didn't say anything else. I don't understand it Harry. He could have killed me.
Or he could have tried to help me. And if he was trying to give us a clue to help us find Hermione,
why didn't he just tell us, and why did he help kidnap her in the first place? I don't
understand him at all.”

“I'm through trying to figure him out. I just want to find Hermione,” snapped Harry. He
turned away and noticed that Dumbledore had conjured a blackboard and had written the phrase on its
surface but was still listening intently to the exchanges between Harry and Samuel.

“Understanding Aardus may help us find Hermione,” suggested Dumbledore.

“How?” asked Harry.

“We believe Aardus is a vampire.”

“Right. A very lethal and vicious vampire.”

“True, but look at the victims we know about. All of them seemed to be criminals or dark
creatures as well. He has tried to protect Hermione in a number of situations and warned you to
guard her closely as well. He apparently helped kidnap Hermione, but did not kill Samuel, though he
killed the others. Nor did he harm any of the other girls that were there. What does this tell
us?”

“That he's completely off his rocker?” suggested Ron.

“Or that he's trying to resist the commands or orders of someone else,” added Luna
helpfully.

Dumbledore nodded as Harry spoke. “But what would be powerful enough to cast an *Imperious*
on a vampire? That insane house elf might be powerful enough, but he's been pretty intent on
killing Hermione, not kidnapping her. Maybe some Death Eater we've never met? Or perhaps
another vampire. We know that many vampires can be powerfully persuasive and charismatic among
humans, perhaps there are some vampires that are just as influential among vampires. There are
legends about the oldest vampires that indicate they were very formidable creatures, but very
little real evidence about them. I can think of a few other creatures off the top of my head,
but…”

Harry looked back at the blackboard. “OK, so there's a couple of powerful creatures that may
or may not be pulling the strings on Aardus the puppet-vamp. What about this phrase? Anyone heard
of an `ivory retreat?' Western Europe's rim could be anywhere in Eastern Europe or
Asia—that's helpful. Search all or everyone's doomed. Nice, add a little pressure. Like I
wasn't going to follow up on any lead. Are you sure you remembered this right Hunt?”

“Believe me Potter, I had the phrase burned into my memory. That's exactly what he said.

Harry stared at the words for a minute. “Wait. We're assuming he is trying to resist some
sort of order or command, right? Well, he must be trying to tell us something without saying it
right out. What if we rearrange the words like this?” With a swish of his wand, the words reformed
themselves into:

`Seek doom of everyone's ivory rim. Retreat nightly over Europe's western refuse. Search
all times. Hurry. Confirm.'

“Look for the destruction of everyone's white tire. Go home every night over western
Europe's trashheap. Look all day, around the clock and hurry up. Yeah, that makes a lot of
sense,” finished Harry disgustedly.

Harry tried again and reformed the words to say:

`Confirm nightly times of western retreat. Seek Europe's ivory over everyone's rim.
Refuse all, doom search. Hurry.

“That makes even less sense,” snorted Harry angrily.

Luna stood up and stepped near Harry, gazing thoughtfully with her head tilted. With a swish of
her wand, she rearranged the words to their original configuration. “What if we use just the first
letters of each word, like this?”

`Seek. Ivory retreat of nightly times over western Europe's rim. Search all. Refuse, confirm
everyone's doom. Hurry.'

became

`siron tower sarcedh'

“Siron tower sarcedh?” asked Harry. “But what if we don't use the initials of the first and
last word?” He waved his wand and a new set of words appeared.

`Seek iron tower. Sarced. Hurry.”

“Iron tower, iron tower. I know I've heard of that before. It's right on the tip of my
tongue…”

“I believe it's a mythical stronghold of a very powerful vampire, rumored to be somewhere in
Eastern Europe,” suggested Dumbledore.

“Sarced, sarced. That doesn't sound English. Could it be a word in a different
language?”

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and an enormous tome appeared in his lap. He leafed through it
quickly and then spoke. “Sarcaed is vampiric for blood. Maybe sarced is an older form of the
word.”

Harry stood and began to pace. “Seek Iron Tower…vampires…sarced…My pendant wouldn't work.
Maybe sarced is the password to get by the defensive wards. Azkaban had one, maybe this iron tower
does as well. Any chance you can narrow down the search for this iron tower Professor?”

Dumbledore tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment, “I believe it was in either “*Vampiric
Myths and Lore,* or *Staking* *O**ut Europe: The Wars of Vampire Extermination.*
I don't recall which one for…*”*

Harry had already disappeared and five minutes later reappeared carrying ten very heavy books.
He handed the top one to Dumbledore and took the second one for himself. By way of explanation he
said, “All of these were on the same shelf so I thought I'd bring them along just in case.”

Dumbledore looked at the book he was holding and commented, “These aren't from the school
library, where did you get them?”

Luna traced a large, decorative M on the spine of one and looked at Harry. “What does the M
stand for, Harry?”

“Well, it might stand for Malfoy, but if you really want to help, why don't you open the
book instead of worrying about where they might have come from.”

Neville, Ginny, and Ron grabbed a book each, Harry passed one to Samuel, who sat up to look at
it, and Luna passed out books to Minerva, Hagrid, and Remus.

Half an hour later, Dumbledore announced with satisfaction “Ha! I've found it. I knew it was
in *Staking Out Europe.* Listen.

Lord Maclav, an influential Bulgarian prince of the ninth century, avoided the fate of most of
his army when he fled westward from opposing Bulgarian armies. Maclav and his surviving followers
refused to convert to Christianity or accept the rule of the Byzantine emperor and were driven from
their ancestral lands. Maclav and his followers continued to skirmish with both Bulgarian and
Byzantine troops for nearly thirty years, before they were trapped near their mountain castle deep
in the Rhodope mountains. After a siege that lasted nearly seven months, the victorious Bulgarians
finally penetrated the defenses only to find an army of bloodless corpses guarding the walls. In
horror, they set fire to the entire castle. The entire complex, with the exception of one tower,
which the horrified soldiers named the *Iron Tower*, was razed to the ground. This cursed
tower would neither burn nor open its doors to them despite their best attempts. The victorious
army then left, but was struck down by a horrible pestilence on its return march home. There were
only three survivors who returned to the capital of Byzantium, and they lived only long enough to
make their report. Neither the *Iron Tower* nor Lord Maclav were ever seen again, though some
wizard historians argue that some of his descendents fled northward over the Carpathian mountains
into Transylvania and helped form the infamous Dracul clan and may have influenced its most
notorious member, Vlad Dracul, the prince and terror of Wallachia during the fifteenth
century.”

Dumbledore carefully closed the book as everyone watched quietly.

“Maclav, Dracul, Iron Tower, Bulgaria…what have we stumbled into?” muttered Harry as he began
pacing. He looked up sharply at Dumbledore. “Do you have any friends in Bulgaria, anyone who might
have a clue where I could start looking for this Iron Tower?”

Dumbledore sadly shook his head, “Apart from a few professors at Durmstrang, I am afraid I…”

Samuel cut in just then. “I know somebody in Sofiya. It's not too far from the Rhodope and
Balkan mountains. If she doesn't know where you can start your search, then nobody will. Her
name is Svetlina Gorintov. She has a small shop in Prokhov Alley and…”

“And we'll help you find her Harry,” added Remus. “I'll bring three of my best
Aurors…”

“And I'll talk to Charlie and Bill and the twins, I'm sure they'd be willing to help
as well,” said Ron. “And of course I'm going to go,”

“You most certainly are not,” insisted McGonagall.

“Well, you can count me in,” stated Ginny.

“None of you are going anywhere,” retorted Madame Pomfrey. “You still need more rest here in the
hospital ward.”

“Obviously, those who are of age will be able to decide for themselves whether to go, those
younger than seventeen will not be allowed to accompany us,” sighed Dumbledore, glancing at Ginny
who was turning red with anger.

Harry just glanced around, looking at the determined looks from his friends and nodded slowly.
“Fine. We leave tomorrow at ten. That should give everyone enough time to get their stuff
together.” Then he turned to leave with the students following him out.

Remus and the other professors left as well, several of them grumbling worriedly about the
students as Dumbledore sat down and watched Samuel thoughtfully.

Finally, Samuel chuckled bitterly as he turned towards Dumbledore. “You know he's going to
be long gone before dawn, don't you?”

“Most likely. There is nothing I can do to stop him once his mind is made up. And being Harry,
he will not want to endanger his friends.”

“Oh, I think there is more to it than that. He can travel faster and fight easier knowing he
doesn't have to worry about anyone else. His fighting abilities are so far beyond those of his
friends here…in fact, I'll bet he could take on 95% of the British Aurors right now without a
wand and win. Besides, tactically and strategically, it makes sense to go it alone. The Weasley
brothers, though they mean well, are not equal partners to him in a fight. And he hasn't fought
with Remus or any of the other Aurors, he's not sure how well they would work together. This is
a rescue mission, he'll want to go in fast and invisible, find Hermione, and escape as quickly
as possible. He can do that best by going alone.”

Sighing, Dumbledore asked, “And I suppose I'm simply too old to be of any assistance on a
task like this…” Dumbledore tried to keep his tone light, as if he were joking, but the expression
on his face indicated that Dumbledore already knew the answer.

“Don't be silly greybeard. You know why he's leaving you behind. You're the most
powerful wizard in the world, after him. You both know it. And you both know what the chances are
for this to turn out well, despite your attempts to remain optimistic for the sake of everyone
else.”

Dumbledore's face darkened but he said nothing.

Samuel continued as a note of bitterness crept into his voice. “It's been nearly five days
since she was taken by the vampires. If Harry can't save Hermione, you know as well as I do
that he'll destroy everything and everyone that had a hand in her death. He knows that he might
not survive this mission. And he doesn't want the world's two most powerful wizards dying
over it. He'll leave you behind to save the world from the next great threat, not because
you're no longer useful.”

Dumbledore turned away from Samuel and gazed sadly out the window.

“Now either tell Pomfrey to give me a double strength Pepper Up Potion, or have Snippy make me
one. I won't be 100% by the time Potter takes off, but I'll be able to go after him by
midday tomorrow.”

“Samuel, there is no…”

“Knock it off, old man. I'm not one of your students you can lecture to. Harry might need
the extra help and we both know it. If he does get in a fight, he won't be holding anything
back. Even if he finds and defeats the vampires who kidnapped Hermione, he may not have enough
energy once he's done fighting to help Hermione or get back home. You can't go because you
need to stay here to keep the rest of them together.” Samuel nodded his head towards the door
through which Harry's friends had passed, then grinned and added, “And to keep the rest of the
world together in case we don't make it back.”

Dumbledore looked back at Samuel and nodded sadly as he laid a hand on his shoulder. “Be very
careful Samuel. I will bring you some extra potions shortly. Don't worry, I'll brew them
myself.”

Samuel nodded and leaned back in his bed with a painful grimace, knowing that he would need all
the rest he could get before tomorrow.

-->



35. Following a Cold Trail
--------------------------



Ch 35 Following a Cold Trail

Four days after she had been kidnapped by Aardus and Elysa and imprisoned within the small room
with her two guards, Hermione stood shakily for a moment, just to try and stretch out her cramped
muscles. She knew she should be hungry, but it was the agony of her dry throat and mouth that
bothered her the most. The deprivation of water and the lack of sleep was making it increasingly
difficult for her to stay focused and concentrate. The headaches and nausea were getting worse, and
she knew that if Harry did not arrive in another day or so, it wouldn't matter—she would die of
dehydration or Corlyn would...but she refused to think of that. Neither of her guards had said a
word since Elysa had told her Aardus' history and she had been listening with interest to
Saldar recount various adventures he had experienced with previous wielders to keep her mind off of
her discomfort.

“*Saldar?”*

*“Yes mistress?”*

*“I was wondering about you. You've told me stories and stories about what you've done
with other wizards, but I still don't know anything about you, except that you're a very
good, solid man, er sword, no, no, I mean, I'm sorry, you know what I mean don't
you?”*

*“Of course mistress…Do not worry about…”*

*“What about your family Saldar? Were they like you?”*

*“Ahh. My family. Well, that is quite a different story…”*

*“I'm sorry Saldar. I didn't mean to pry,”* she explained, sensing the pain and
anger in his tone of voice.

“*Give it no mind mistress. I do not mind telling thee the story, though it still causes me
great pain to remember it.*

*I was nothing like my father. Unlike him I believed that purity of blood did not matter. We
had many angry discussions concerning his ideas. His insistence upon maintaining what he called
blood purity not only shattered our family, but also broke his friendship with those he had worked
with to found the great school of Hogwarts.”*

It was a sign of Hermione's growing exhaustion that it took her several moments to realize
who he was talking about.

“*My father and those who thought like him were driven from Scotland for* *years**,
their ideas were unpopular and* *reject**e**d—for a time. I had left my home village
and moved south, away from his tainted legacy. I had settled down with a beautiful Muggle woman,
the daughter of a wealthy cloth trader, and together we had a beautiful daughter. We were anxiously
awaiting another child when my father found us.*

*He was enraged that his son would dilute the purity of his blood. Our hot words escalated
into blows and then into spells. Two of his followers were killed before my family and I were
captured. He then killed my wife**, my* *daughter**, and my unborn child*
*before my eyes, thinking to break me and bend me to his will. He then performed the ceremony
that transferred my soul from a mortal, living body to that of the weapon you now wield.*

*In his pride and arrogance, he forgot that I still had the power to choose to serve whom I
would. My father was furious to discover I would not serve him as a weapon, just as I had rejected
him as a son. When Godric Gryffindor and the other Founders heard what had befallen my family, they
pursued him and his followers but they managed to escape. I hid myself from my father, to his great
rage, and allowed myself to be found by Godric. I convinced him to allow me to serve him and his
descendents and have done so faithfully ever since. How I longed to help bring about the fall of
Voldemort, the last living descendent of Salazar Slytherin and banish his legacy forever. Now you
understand why I could not be of greater assistance to Master Potter during his trial. Who would
have believed the sword-son of Salazar Slytherin?”*

Hermione had slumped back down to the floor during the course of the story and several tears
were streaking down her face.

“Do not waste your water,” taunted Elysa.

“Shut up Elysa,” warned Aardus.

“You cannot save her Aardus. Look at her, she is dying before our eyes. And if she foolishly
continues to try and resist, Vespus will break her and get the information he needs and then toss
her aside like the human trash she is. And I will personally make sure that her death is a very
long, painful one.”

“Your fate is not hers to decide Elysa. In fact, I would be more worried about your own fate.
She is young, and very beautiful and much more intelligent than you. Once he turns her, the Master
will probably realize how worthless you are, how little you contribute, how unstable and
unsatisfying you are, and toss *you* aside like the *chalithu* you are!” taunted
Aardus.

“Never!” she screamed and leaped towards Hermione, her claws outstretched and her fangs bared.
Aardus barreled into her, knocking them both into one of the stone walls. Hissing and spitting
insults at each other, the two clawed and swung at each other with demonic fury. Aardus slipped
behind her and tossed her to the far wall where she rattled the stones from the impact. She charged
forward again while Aardus put himself between her and Hermione. As she lunged forward, he grabbed
the sword of Godric Gryffindor from his belt and pulled it free of its sheath. Fear flashed in
Elysa's eyes for a moment before she recognized the weapon he had drawn.

“The girl's plaything? Surely you jest, Aardus. Perhaps I'll kill her with it once
I'm finished with you.” She snarled as he stabbed the dagger at her. She easily caught his
wrist and turned it aside. He grimaced in pain as they wrestled for control of the dagger. With a
quick movement she twisted his wrist and the dagger went flying and then she threw an elbow into
his face followed by a clawed hand trying to scratch out one of his eyes. Aardus fell backwards,
overwhelmed momentarily by the viciousness of the attack. Screaming in triumph, she pounced on his
chest as he fell, pinning one of his arms with her legs while she grabbed the other one and leaned
down to rip out his throat with her fangs. As she leaned forward she froze as a slender silver
spike exploded from her chest.

One of her clawed hands clutched desperately at the gleaming blade as she looked down in agony.
She stared stupidly as the blood on the blade disappeared as soon as it appeared. Aardus looked up
with a grim smile on his face at a very pale, shaking Hermione holding the gem encrusted hilt of
the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. He leaned closer to the shuddering vampire as the rest of her blood
was absorbed by the sword. He reached inside her tunic and pulled out a long, slender wand and
looked up at Hermione.

“On three, withdraw your sword,” he whispered urgently. “One, two, three.”

Hermione pulled out her sword and fell to the ground as he plunged Elysa's own wand deep
into the gaping hole left by Hermione's sword and snapped off six inches of the end. Elysa fell
over on her back and lay still. Then he reached into his own shirt and pulled out another wand and
waved it over the broken pieces of Elysa's wand. They took on the appearance of the sword still
in Hermione's hand. The broken blade remained in the chest of the rapidly decomposing body of
the vampire, and the hilt remained in his own, which he then tossed to the ground.

“Hide your blade again if you wish to keep it,” he whispered. “The Master now knows she is dead
and will be here in moments.” As he spoke, he quickly conjured a glass of water and handed it to
Hermione. “Drink it slowly, it will have to last you until Potter arrives. Master will be very
upset that I killed her and may not leave me here with you any longer.”

Hermione nodded gratefully, unable to form words, and sipped slowly at the cup, trying to
swallow it and not throw it right back up. The cool water in her mouth and falling down her throat
immediately made her feel a little better, a little more clear headed.

She heard nothing but suddenly the drink disappeared from her hands. When she looked up again,
an enraged Corlyn stalked towards Aardus who kneeled before him. “Master, she…”

There was a sharp crack that echoed through the room as Corlyn slapped him hard enough to knock
him flying sideways.

“You fools! Neither of you could put aside your petty animosities in order to serve me! Now I
have lost one of my most faithful servants. Give me one reason why I should not stake you as well,
Aardus.”

“There is no good reason to keep me around any longer unless I can still be of service to you
Master. Elysa succumbed to the blood lust and would have killed the girl and spoiled all of your
carefully laid plans. I had no choice but to kill her, she would not stop and she nearly killed
me.”

“Tell me Aardus, how did this trinket manage to kill a vampire witch? They can only be destroyed
by staking them with their own wand, or with a stake made of the same materials as their own wand.
With all of your training as a Dark Hunter, tell me how you failed to detect this property in Miss
Granger's dagger!”

“I do not know. It seems as if some of the weapons for hunting dark creatures have improved
since my time,” he replied.

Corlyn stepped forward threateningly.

“If I have failed you then perhaps it would be best to terminate my service,” offered
Aardus.

“You would like that too much, I think. I believe I can still make use of several of your
skills—for the time being. But do not fail me again Aardus. There are several ways for a vampire to
be vanquished, and I know all of the most painful ones.”

“Of course Master,” replied Aardus deferentially.

“Now,” replied Corlyn, turning to the pale and still shaking Hermione still collapsed on the
ground, “I believe I have been negligent as a host and I apologize. I have failed to inform you of
the coming activities we are planning to celebrate your arrival here Miss Granger. At midnight
tonight, you will be reborn into a new life. But before then, we will finish our discussion of
Atlantis and you will tell me everything I wish to know.”

He waited silently for several minutes in which Hermione just stared back at him angrily, but
very tiredly.

He chuckled, a deep, cold sound utterly lacking in true joy or mirth. “I thought as much. I am
afraid you are not looking very well Miss Granger. Perhaps a bit of exercise would do you some
good.”

He then turned towards Aardus. “When the sun sets in two hours time, you will bring Miss Granger
outside for a leisurely jog around the grounds. I will accompany you both. Come Aardus, I have
another task for you right now. We will talk later, Miss Granger.”

As they left, Hermione's head sunk forward on her chest and her shoulders shook, but she
cried no more tears. “*Please hurry Harry. I can't last much longer.”*

*-*-*

Very early the next morning, the wind screaming past his ears and his robes fluttering behind
him, Harry shot through the air like a missile. Once again, Harry silently thanked Sirius'
foresight in providing a warming charm for his motorcycle. He grinned as he shifted the thundering
bike, increasing its speed even more. “*Leave it to Sirius to build a bike with ten gears*,”
he grinned. Suddenly the tunnel was plunged back into near complete darkness, the only light was a
series of evenly spaced white bulbs that appeared as a nearly solid white line alongside the metal
tracks.

Flying invisible and faster than the speeding train that linked England and France together
under the English Channel, Harry had been racing ahead of the early morning express headed to the
Continent, using its light to fly down the tunnel. He didn't really need to, but he was feeling
reckless and the sheer thrill of leading the train down the tunnel gave him something to focus on
besides his growing fear for Hermione. “*But where did the train go?”*

As his eyes adjusted to the near darkness, he thought again about the maps he had examined
earlier at the station. There were three tunnels that extended under the Channel, a maintenance
tunnel and two train tunnels. There were a series of exchanges that allowed the trains to switch
tracks if there was a problem or work being done on one of the tracks, or if another train needed
to…

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he caught a glimpse of light in the distance that quickly
grew brighter. He glanced in vain along the sides, hoping to find another crossover tunnel or a gap
where he could tuck himself and his motorcycle while the train passed. But he was flying too fast
to find one and hide and the train was nearly on top of him. He could always ditch the motorcycle,
but he dismissed that thought as soon as it crossed his mind. Suddenly he was very glad that he and
Ron had snuck out several times to test out his bike. He jerked the handlebars up and then leaned
hard to the left. There was a metallic clang and then a loud roar as the train and Harry's bike
passed each other at more than five hundred miles an hour. A few seconds later, Harry's bike
was shuddering and his right leg felt like it was on fire before he dove back down towards the
tunnel and straightened out. Somehow, he had managed to avoid getting ground into hamburger since
there had barely been enough space between the top of the train and the tunnel ceiling. However, he
had clipped something hanging from the ceiling and Harry was afraid to check out the damage to the
side of his bike and his leg. Hoping that would be the last train headed to England for a while, he
sped on through the tunnel.

*-*-*

“He's gone!” roared Ron angrily. He stomped down the stairs into the Common room and out
through the portrait door. A few minutes later he was shouting at the statue in front of
Dumbledore's office. After a few minutes he was joined by a grumpy looking Professor
McGonagall.

“What is wrong Mr. Weasley?”

“He's gone Professor. Harry's already left.”

Her mouth rounded in surprise and she quickly gave the password. “Follow me,” she insisted and
walked swiftly up the stairs.

When they stepped inside, they saw Dumbledore sitting at his desk. He raised his eyebrows and
simply asked, “So he is gone then?”

McGonagall nodded and then asked, “You already knew?”

“Samuel and I feared he would leave on his own.”

McGonagall pursed her lips and moved over to a large panel hanging on the wall. She tapped it
with her wand and said, “*Mapus revelo.”* A large, three dimensional map of Hogwarts, similar
to the Marauder's Map, appeared, complete with names and images of students walking around
while Ron watched in amazement.

“But I already said he's not here...”

“I was listening earlier, Mr. Weasley,” snapped an irritable McGonagall. She tapped the map with
her wand and said, “*Mostrad Sirius* *motorcycle**.”*

Dumbledore stepped nearer as the map changed to a flat map of the British isles with a blinking
green motorcycle moving southwest towards France. “What did you do Minerva?” he asked.

“Harry's Firebolt has a special feature that allows it to be tracked if it is ever lost or
stolen. I convinced the broommaker to teach me the wand movements to track Harry's Firebolt. I
insisted on putting a similar spell on Harry's motorcycle before he received it on his
birthday.”

Dumbledore's eyes widened. “How very Slytherin of you Minerva…”

McGonagall wasn't listening to him. She was looking intently at the glowing green motorcycle
and frowned. “He hasn't gone too far. Remus and the Aurors should be able to catch up with him
easily in France with a portkey.”

“I will inform them.”

Ten minutes later, Remus, several Aurors, and Ron's older brothers and father were in
Dumbledore's office.

Ron turned from the arguing adults to look again at the wonderful map. And then he noticed
something odd. “Uhh, Professor McGonagall? What's wrong with this map?”

“What? There's nothing wrong with…” and then she stopped as she realized that the green
motorcycle indicating Harry's position was heading back to England. “What? I don't
understand why he would be…”

Dumbledore chuckled softly. “Harry's not headed back to England. The Chunnel train is.
I'm willing to bet Harry discovered the tracking charm device and attached it to a returning
train.” He looked up at the confused group and explained about the Muggle train. “Harry's
already in France if not farther. If you really want to find him and try to help him, we're
going to need Samuel.”

“Albus, he's still recovering in the hospital ward. There is no way he could possibly…”
protested McGonagall.

“Good morning, ma'am,” bowed Samuel with a grin as he entered the room. “I hate to disagree
with you, but…”

McGonagall's eyes flashed dangerously. “Samuel, you should be…”

“I've got a student who's skipping his Auror classes and I intend to bring him back.
There's also the matter of a missing witch and the vampire that took her that needs to be dealt
with. And that's that,” finished Samuel, staring steadily at the older witch.

At that moment Madame Pomfrey burst into the room. “Mr. Hunt! I…”

“Don't worry, I signed myself out—I didn't want to bother you…”

“Hmmff…” huffed Pomfrey. “Well, I insist that you allow me to accompany you…”

“I don't need someone mothering over me…” protested Samuel.

“Who said anything about taking care of you? You're old enough to know better than to go
running off so quickly after such serious injuries. I am concerned about young Mr. Potter and Miss
Granger—we are trying to rescue them, are we not? And I daresay *competent* medical assistance
will doubtless be necessary, at least for Mr. Potter…”

“Fine then,” grumbled Samuel. “Now unless there are any other objections, Pomfrey, Remus and I
need to get to Bulgaria.”

“I think we'll be able to manage on our own—you appear to still be recovering from…”
protested one of the Aurors standing next to Remus.

“No offense, but I've trained him myself and you're not going to find him without my
help.” Glancing at Remus, he asked, “If you're ready to go Moony, leave the Three Musketeers
behind and let's get on with it. And thanks for the offer Arthur—the boys play a mean game of
Quidditch—but this is serious stuff. You and the boys would be better off staying here.”

“We're not boys,” insisted several of the Weasleys.

“I've been training dragons in Romania for over five years now…”

“I've been breaking curses for Gringott's in Egypt and England…”

“We've faced worse at the last battle with Voldemort!”

“They're my best friends!” roared Ron. “You're not leaving me behind! Besides,
you're letting her go!” he added, pointing at Pomfrey.

“Three Musketeers?! Was he talking about us?” asked one of the Aurors in brown robes.

“I speak eighty-two different languages, including the major dialects of Eastern Europe,” hissed
Lupin's assistant, “and I can take care of myself.”

Neither Lupin, Arthur, nor the black robed Auror spoke, but just watched quietly for a
moment.

Samuel waved his hands in exasperation. “I don't have time for this. Potter's probably
already in Sofiya by now…Once Remus, Pomfrey, and I portkey there, we won't have time to
babysit the rest of you…”

More angry denials filled the air.

“Samuel, you just can't portkey into another country without going through the proper
channels. We need to…”

“We don't have time for a bunch of bureaucratic red tape,” grated Samuel angrily.

“Not all of us can bend and break the laws when we find them inconvenient,” snapped Arthur.
“There is nothing I want right now more than for Harry and Hermione to be brought home safely. And
I assure you that I will do everything possible in order to do just that…”

“But…” started Samuel.

“Just be quiet and listen for a minute. I will speak personally with the Bulgarian minister and
make sure there are no problems regarding an international portkey. But I will need about an hour
to put everything in order Samuel. You will need to wait at least that long. And I will allow
everyone here that wants to go help find Harry and Hermione to do so if they wish. I have a feeling
they would go one way or another. You can either work with them or ignore them Samuel. But they
will probably be going whether you like it or not.”

Samuel glared at him, but Arthur quietly stood his ground without flinching. “Fine! But I'm
not going to be responsible if anything happens to them. We're chasing some nasty vamps and
there's a good chance there are more than just two of them—I can't guarantee everyone is
coming home in one piece.”

“We're not asking you to do that Samuel. Now I've got to make a few calls. For all of
you who wish to go, I'll be back in an hour with the portkey.”

*-*-*

There was chanting all around her, but she couldn't make any sense of it. When she opened
her eyes, the pale faces and dark clothing seemed to swim in front of her eyes. She didn't know
what was going on. “*Where was she? Who was she? What was going on? Why was she*
*sitting* *here on this…”*

*“Mistress, mistress. I am here for thee. Calm down, I can aid thee.”*

*“Who?”*

*“I am thy servant Saldar, Mistress.”*

*“Saldar. Harry. Aardus. Corlyn**-Primus-Vespus**. And I'm Hermione, caught in
the middle of all this.”* Her memories of the nightmare from last night quickly came back. Only
they were no dream, they were all too terribly real.

Vespus, true to his word, had met her and Aardus outside of the castle just after dusk the night
before and had proceeded to run her into the ground. After forty-five minutes, her body had simply
collapsed, completely exhausted from lack of sleep and nourishment for nearly four days straight.
She could remember Saldar talking to her constantly, trying to help her, but her body was
physically worn out. Her impressive willpower could simply force nothing more out of it. And
mentally, she was nearly exhausted as well. She would have collapsed long before then if it
hadn't been for Saldar's help.

Aardus had then carried her back into the castle following Vespus. Hermione was placed in a
comfortable chair and Vespus sat himself comfortably across from her.

“Come my dear, there is no need to fight so hard to conceal the secrets of Atlantis. I simply
must know what you have learned.” Again his eyes bored into hers and she again felt powerless to
turn away. In growing fear and shame, she realized that he was easily pushing aside her mental
defenses as well. He was right, it was only a matter of time before he discovered everything he
wanted to know.

With a final scream of frustration and anger, she managed to choke out through her dry, swollen
throat. “Fine, I'll tell you what you want to know of Atlantis.” She would tell him what he
wanted, but she would do it on her own terms. She would not have all of her secrets stripped from
her by force if she could help it. And maybe she could still conceal a few things.

Vespus leaned back and smiled. “Excellent. I knew you would come around eventually. Here, have a
sip of this. It will ease the pain in your throat.”

Hermione eagerly grabbed the goblet he placed before her with shaking hands and tried to drink
the liquid slowly so as not to upset her stomach. The cool liquid splashed down her throat and she
immediately felt better and more coherent.

“I'll answer your questions now,” she replied, handing back the goblet.

“Tell me what you discovered within the Great Library about Atlantis.”

Suddenly Hermione chuckled. “If you're looking for Atlantis or the orb, I'm afraid
you're going to be pretty disappointed. None of the sources made any mention of where either is
located. You could search hundreds of square miles under the ocean and still never find it.
Besides, it's probably unplottable and untraceable. You'll never find it.”

Vespus smiled coldly. “Perhaps I can be a better judge of that than you. Tell me what you
found.”

Hermione began reciting for him the *Lament of Luthior.* She had intended to leave out
several of the stanzas that mentioned specific place names and the one that mentioned the portals,
but under his compelling gaze found that she included them as well.

“And what else?”

Hermione watched him angrily for a moment before replying. “There was a piece of a prophecy, but
you already know it. You and Quintus have discussed it.”

Something flashed in his eyes, but Hermione was unable to determine what it was for sure.

“I would like to hear it anyways,” he said softly.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Part of it was missing, but here is what the surviving piece said:

*A queen of death will arise to destroy the old world*

*The dark queen will bring to pass a new world*

*And shatter the old world*

I have no idea what it means.”

She thought he would be disappointed, instead, he seemed ecstatic. He clapped his hands and
laughed in triumph.

“Those fools! Those idiots! For centuries we have misunderstood three simple lines!” He tipped
his head back and roared with laughter.

“The prophecy is true, I knew it! But it requires a *Dark Queen* to fulfill it! Not a
Muggle vampire or even a vampire witch but one with the potential to become a true Dark Queen.
Well, that certainly changes a few things.” Vespus turned away and sat thoughtfully for a
moment.

“Aardus, I am sure you will be pleased to know that you will not be required to turn Miss
Granger. I will have to do that myself now. You see, my dear, you have played a very pivotal role
up until now. And with the sad loss of my dear Elysa, you will play an even larger role in the
prophecy now.”

Hermione's stomach turned to ice as her eyes widened in horror. She heard the mental scream
of anguish of Aardus, though no trace of emotion crossed his face.

Summoning all of her courage, she tried to defy him again. “What? No! I'll never help you.
You'll have to kill me…”

He laughed again. “Aardus, you may leave us.” He waited until they were alone before continuing.
“Let me tell you the full prophecy that the Eldor have waited for millennia to come to pass.

*After the fall of the mighty dark one*

*Stripped of power, defeated by three alive and dead*

*A queen of death will arise to destroy the old world*

*The dark queen will bring to pass a new world*

*And shatter the old world*

*Though dead, she will die again*

*Brought down by the one who would be her king*

*Betrayed by the scarred one full of turmoil*

*A hero struggling* *for* *the light*”

Hermione looked at him, horrified as she tried to understand who the various people in the
prophecy might indicate.

“We have always had most of the prophecy, but we lost a crucial piece which you have now so
kindly rediscovered for me in the Great Library—we never knew exactly who would be able to bring
about the new world we desired. Legends told us that it was a prophecy foretelling the birth of a
new world for vampires, and the Eldor have been guessing for centuries at the meaning within those
lost verses without luck for centuries, but you have now provided me the key I need to fulfill the
prophecy and remake the world. I can never thank you enough, Miss Granger.

Come, we have much to prepare for by tomorrow night. A Dark Queen is not made in a single night,
I am afraid. There will be a series of preparatory ceremonies beginning tonight at midnight and
finishing tomorrow by midnight. Unfortunately, you will have to remain human for one more day while
we prepare you to fulfill your new role as my Dark Queen.”

His smile widened once more as he stared at Hermione. “You truly are the one the prophecy speaks
of. Once you have turned and your body has adjusted to its new condition, you will help me speak
with the surviving Atlanteans and discover one of these portals to their lost homeland. You see, we
have always known who they were, but for some strange reason, we have never been able to
*persuade* them to reveal the location of their homeland. But now that I know of the portals,
I not only know the correct questions to ask, but with your powers as an Athenian owl, I will be
able to gain the final answers I need.

And now that you've confirmed the truth of the prophecy, I know the time is right to fulfill
it. Thank you so much. Once we've rediscovered Atlantis and recovered the orb, then together we
will destroy the world and make a new one in which the vampires rule—under my guidance of course.
Unfortunately, it does not appear that you will actually see this new world, so I will thank you
for your help in advance. Come, we have much to do.”

Hermione stood up quickly and then collapsed back in the couch as all of her former weakness
returned with a vengeance. It seemed the potion in the goblet had only been temporary. Her mind
reeled with the implications as anger, fear, anxiety, bitterness, and a host of other feelings
washed over her. “*Though dead, she would die again—Vespus was going to* *make her a Dark
Queen and then* *turn her into a vampire and then somebody—the one who would be her king—Harry
would then kill her—but he would never betray her or hurt her—he loved her, but he was deeply
scarred and full of turmoil. Noo. NOOO!”* Her mind refused to accept the interpretations she was
developing and combined with the effects of the potion, the sleep deprivation, and the lack of food
and water for days, Hermione's mind finally simply shut down.

But now she was awake again, but she half-wished she wasn't.

“*Saldar, what are they doing?”*

*“The vampire hath insisted on conducting* *an* *ancient ceremony to prepare you to
become his Queen. Apparently he believes* *that tho**u wil**t* *fulfill*
*a* *prophecy* *speaking of a Dark Queen* *and he is trying to bring that to
pass.*

*“But I am the Queen of the prophecy, it seems very clear…”*

*“I did not find it so clear, Mistress. I know* *thee* *and I refuse to believe
that* *th**ou would**st* *ever do anything that prophecy claims the Dark
Queen* *shall* *do.”*

*“But what if I am?”*

*“I assure thee Mistress, thou are not the Dark Queen.”*

*“It's too big a risk, we can't take the chance.”*

*“Mistress.”*

*“Listen to me Saldar. If Harry doesn't arrive before they turn me into a…before they turn
me tonight, promise me that when he does come you'll tell him something for me.”*

*“Of course Mistress.”*

*“Tell him that I love him and that I always will. And tell him that if he loves me, he will
destroy me along with the other vampires.”*

*“Mistress, I cannot.”*

*“Just do it Saldar, please don't argue with me, I don't have the energy.”*

*“Please don't give up Mistress. He will come for you.”*

*“I know. I'm not giving up. But we have to be realistic. I would rather die than destroy
the world. Now promise me you'll tell him.”*

*“I promise. Now save your strength Mistress. You will need it for later.”*

*“I know. Thank you Saldar.”*

*-*-*

Harry grimaced as he surveyed the bloody bandage he had made for his leg. When he emerged bloody
and battered from the tunnel in France, he had quickly examined both his leg and bike for damage.
There were several deep scratches and dents on the right side of his motorbike, and he was now
missing a side mirror. His leg had some nasty scrapes but nothing too serious. It burned like hell
though. He created another bandage for it and then made sure that the *Concealment* charm on
the bike was set. Finished, he looked up and down the small alley to make sure he was still alone
in the city of Sofiya.

Except for the one brief stop in France, he had flown nonstop to Sofiya, mostly over various
snowcapped mountain ranges. A portkey would have been much faster, but he hadn't had time to do
the necessary research to create a safe landing site for the portkey. Satisfied that he was not
being observed, Harry raised his wand and whispered “*Lumos.”*

There was a loud bang and then a dark haired witch leaned out of a dusty blue bus and said
something unintelligible. Harry repeated one of the three words in Bulgarian he knew. “Prokhov
alley. Prokhov,” and handed her a fistful of coins. He walked past without another word and sat
down in the second seat from the front, ignoring the stares and muttered whispers from several
other curious passengers. Twenty minutes later, his stomach nearly sick with the constant starts
and stops, the witch turned to him and spoke. Seeing his lack of reaction, she repeated herself and
pointed towards the door. Harry stood and nodded, then stepped off the bus into a dark, grimy
street.

He looked up and down the street, but the few faces that glanced his way did not look very
friendly. He looked around for numbers or a street sign, but saw nothing. He stepped forward to
speak to one of the people on the street when he heard a cry from behind him, down a small alley.
Nobody on the street seemed to hear the cries, or if they did, they didn't seem to care.
Impatient to find Samuel's contact, Harry took a step forward and then turned back to the
noise. He cloaked himself with invisibility as soon as he turned the corner and moved silently
towards the source of commotion.

Two large men appeared to have cornered a small, thin lady who was screaming, but not very
loudly. One of the men had one of his huge hands wrapped around her throat and had the other
raised, as if he was about to strike her. Without even thinking, Harry hit him in the back with a
full body bind. The other man turned and cast a vicious crippling hex at him while he rolled easily
to his left. Harry disarmed him and then stunned him as well. Harry turned to the fragile looking
women and barely managed to teleport behind her away from the paralyzing curse she sent his way. He
sent her wand flying and was about to stun her as well when she said quietly but very forcefully,
“I have seen enough.”

She turned to look at him as Harry kept his wand aimed carefully at her.

“Yes, power and speed will take you far, young padwi. But control and wisdom may allow you to
live. Yes, yes, you will need all four if you are to survive this journey,” she cackled. “Come,
young padwi, follow me.”

“You speak English? Who are you? And why did you attack me?”

The old crone looked up at him and replied. “I am the one you seek. Now come, there is little
time.” She turned away and summoned her wand to her hand. She then awoke the two men who had been
attacking her and waved them away with a flick of her wrist. Turning back to an astonished Harry,
she repeated, “Come,” and beckoned with a bony forefinger.

His wand still out, Harry followed warily, his eyes darting everywhere as he followed the witch
down the dingy, slush filled alley.

She stopped at a tiny black door with a weatherbeaten sign hanging over a set of stairs leading
down. Harry glanced at it but could make nothing of the letters, but the crystal ball held in a
human hand seemed to indicate what sort of shop it might be. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Look, I'm not sure who you are or who you think I'm looking for, but I need to find a
witch named Svetlina Gorintov at a shop in Prokhov alley as quickly as possible. If you could just
point me in the right direction, I'd be very…”

The witch cackled again. “So like the tall dark murdpa you are. No time for talk—just want to
know and to do. He is coming too, but he and the red ones will be too late. They will not be able
to help you on your quest, padwi.”

“My quest? How do you know of my quest? Are you Svetlina?” asked Harry anxiously.

“I am known by that name to some,” she replied mysteriously. “Now come.”

Harry followed her down the stairs cautiously. She opened the door into a dark, crowded little
room with a large, intricately carved table and a large crystal ball sitting in the center, held in
place by a beautifully carved dragonclaw emerging from the table. Harry's eyes ran quickly over
the markings etched into the table surface and realized he recognized only a few of them. He saw
some hieroglyphics and what appeared to be northern runes as well as a few symbols he remembered
from Hermione's Arithmancy homework. But the crystal orb in the center was the most compelling
feature in the room. It seemed to give off a dim glow and though he stared at it intently, the
constantly shifting images seemed to defy definition or identification. It was like trying to watch
a movie out of the corner of his eye. He tore his eyes away from the globe and looked back at the
witch who had been watching him intently.

She smiled, revealing several missing teeth, and said, “Such tremendous potential, yes, if you
live long enough to learn to control it. I can see why the task is yours…”

“What task are you talking about? What do you know of me? How did you know I was coming?”

“Have you never heard of Divination, of the art of seeing the future?” she asked with an odd
expression on her face. “Oh but of course you have. And like so many, you have seen it practiced
poorly.” She laughed again before continuing.

“Think of the future as a large, beautiful tree standing alone in a large meadow. This meadow,
in turn, is surrounded by hills and mountains. From a great distance, you can see this magnificent
tree, if you have the vision and you are standing upon one of the mountains. But as you travel to
the tree, you frequently lose sight of it. This does not mean that the tree no longer exists or
that it has changed. And the tree is not affected by the fact that your traveling companions cannot
see it for themselves. And occasionally on the journey, you do catch sight of the beautiful tree
again. But as you journey, you realize that there are many paths to reach the tree, some shorter,
some longer, but the trail you take to the tree does not affect the tree itself.”

“Unless you happen to be a logger searching for wood to cut. I've had plenty of experience
with prophecies and quite frankly, I'm sick of them.”

“Ah, there was a prophecy about you and Voldemort then. That is not very surprising.”

Harry looked slightly shocked and then replied heatedly. “Yeah, there was. And don't try and
tell me it didn't matter whether I fulfilled it or he did. Because it did. If he had gotten to
the tree first, there would have been no tree left, no green field, and no hills or mountains
either. There would have been no future, just death and destruction.”

“But he did not reach it first. And there was still death and destruction, including the field,
the forest, the lake, as well as many…”

Harry stood up angrily. “I don't really have time for these silly riddles. I am nothing like
Voldemort! Now if you know something about vampires or the Iron Tower, just tell me. Otherwise,
I'll have to…”

“You'll do what young padwi? You don't even speak Bulgarian. Do you know anybody else in
this country who can help you find her?”

“So you do know! Why are we wasting time?! You know that every moment she is held by them the
danger to her grows…”

“I must be certain that you are the one.”

“What?! The one what?!”

“I must be sure that you have the potential to defeat them, or else you may make the situation
worse.”

“I don't understand—how could the situation get any worse?”

“Think of me as a guardian of the tree.”

“So you get to decide who gets to travel towards the tree?”

“Exactly,” finished the witch, smiling.

“And who gave you this right? Why do you get to decide who has a chance and who
doesn't?”

“I was given a power to sometimes see the future. With that power comes a heavy responsibility
to try and create the best future possible.”

“I thought you said it didn't matter who got to the tree first?” snapped a frustrated
Harry.

“I never said that. And you don't believe it either. I simply try to make sure that the best
traveler reaches the tree.”

“And who appointed you to judge the rest of…”

“Who gave you the power you have? Who gave you the authority to use it as you have? Who forced
you to take the oath you share with your beloved, young padwi?”

Harry's jaw dropped in shock as the witch continued. “I see much in that beautiful crystal
orb padwi. I see much I wish I could forget. But I cannot forget it nor can I ignore it. So I try
to use what little power I have to make sure that those who reach the tree and will shape the
future are good people and up to the task. I am not perfect nor infallible—I am a mere mortal like
yourself and subject to mistakes. But I do the best that I can with what power I have. As do you
young padwi.”

Harry stood still for a moment, thinking about what she said and then replied. “I am deeply
sorry if I have offended you. I apologize for my earlier rudeness. Is there anything you can tell
me about the Iron Tower or the vampires there that will help me find Hermione?”

“There is little that is known for certain. The Iron Tower was the last stronghold of the
Maclavs to fall to the Christian forces in the ninth century. Legends say that it lies southwest of
Sofiya, in the heart of the Rhodope mountains. About fifty miles southwest of here is a cursed
region, most magical creatures shun it. Every year there are hikers and campers, and sometimes
farmers that go missing in the same area. I believe the Iron Tower lies somewhere within that
region guarded and concealed by an ancient, unbreakable ward.”

“I may have the password to slip through the defenses. One of the vampires that kidnapped
Hermione said `*Sarced.**'* Apparently it might be…”

The old witch nodded as she interrupted. “Their word for blood.”

“Can you show me on a map where this cursed area lies?”

She smiled again. “I can do better than that. Sit and look into the globe.”

He sat while she settled herself across from him and put her hands on either side of the crystal
ball. She closed her eyes and whispered something softly. A light flared within the globe and he
focused intently on the beautiful forests and steep mountains that suddenly appeared within his
vision. Then the view shifted, almost as if he were flying over the terrain and then everything
disappeared within a deep gray mist.

“What happened?”

She opened her eyes and looked steadily at him. “The mists conceal the accursed region. I cannot
see more than that.”

Harry nodded and moved to stand up and then paused, looking back at her. “Do you know anything
of Atlantis?”

She tilted her head and then replied softly, “Probably less than you. But your real question is
whether her kidnapping is somehow related to your quest for Atlantis. The answer is yes, but I do
not know how or why. I am sorry I cannot tell you more.”

Harry stared at her for a moment, thinking about what she had said. “Is there anything else you
can tell me about the vampires I might find there?”

“I am sorry, that is not my specialty. I am sure you have been much better trained in that art
than I,” she explained as she shook her head.

“I wouldn't exactly call fighting Dark wizards and creatures an art…” muttered Harry.

“The only advice I can give you padwi is to not fear to do what is necessary when the time
comes.”

“You couldn't be any more specific than that, I suppose,” sighed Harry in exasperation.

“Again, I am sorry. I catch glimpses of the future, and sometimes alternate futures, but that
does not mean I always understand the future.”

“Well, thanks for the help. I do appreciate your assistance.” Harry stood up and began to move
away from the table.

“Before you leave, why don't you let me help you with that leg. And you should have a proper
meal before you go.”

“Thank you again, but each moment I delay is one moment longer that Hermione is…”

“Of course, but you will be of no use to her if you're wounded and weak from hunger when you
arrive. When was the last time you slept?”

“Four, maybe five days? I don't know. I've taken a few naps. Don't worry, I'm
fine. Now I must be going…”

But the witch had already raised her wand and cast a soothing healing spell on his leg. She then
stepped over to a cupboard and pulled out several sandwiches that were already made. When Harry
raised his eyebrows, she simply replied, “I knew you were coming of course. And young men are
always hungry padwi.”

Harry thanked her again and tucked the sandwiches into his pouch before he disappeared from
sight.

“Good luck young padwi. Septimus and the murdpa have trained you well. I pray that it is
enough.”

*-*-*

Harry reappeared on the peak of one of the mountains he had seen in the crystal ball and pulled
his cloak closer around him in the chilly air. He saw no mists of darkness or shadow, only a clear
view across a beautiful valley to another set of mountains. He said in a loud, firm voice,
“*Sarced!”*

Nothing happened. Confused, he found a ledge of rock and sat down to eat one of the sandwiches
why he tried to think about how to tackle this new problem.

“*It has to be related to some sort of Concealment or anti-Plotting charm like the Black
mansion or Azkaban, only probably older. But why didn't the password work? Either it's not
the right password, or there is a certain area I have to be in for it to work.”* Harry sighed.
*“This might take a while to find* *and I don't have time for this**.**”*
He sighed heavily, trying to maintain control of his extremely short temper. *“**At least
it's a beautiful day for flying.”*

He finished his sandwich and pulled his Firebolt from his pouch, which was much more agile and
maneuverable than the motorcycle. He then soared into the cold air and began flying along the
perimeter of the valley, softly whispering the password and trying to sense any source of magic in
the air, and ignoring the nearly freezing conditions.

*-*-*

A very grumpy Samuel let go of the hoola hoop Dumbledore had made into a portkey as he and the
others looked around the large hall. A wizard dressed in dark grey robes with several gold and
several medallions hanging from his neck approached them with his arms wide in greeting. Remus
stepped forward to greet him with Megan by his side ready to translate.

“Welcome to Bulgaria. I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances. I am the Assistant
Minister of Magic. Minister Brubakai and I have spoken with Minister Weasley and we are ready to
assist you whatever way we are able. Please, come, would you like some refreshments?” he stated in
a thick English accent.

“Thanks all the same, but we just need to visit an old friend who might have some information
for us,” said Samuel in Bulgarian, quickly hiding his anger and frustration behind a diplomatic
mask.

“Of course, I will arrange transportation myself. Where do you need to go?”

Samuel hesitated for just a moment. “Ah, well thank you again, but my friend tends to move
around quite a bit. I will probably have to stop by another old friend of ours in order to find
him.”

The minister listened carefully and then nodded. “I understand.” Then his eyes narrowed in
recognition as he studied Samuel more closely. “Welcome back to Bulgaria, Mr. Stewart. I hope this
visit is as successful as your last. Mr. Lupin and company, I leave you in excellent hands. If
there is anything else my government can do for you, please contact me immediately. Good day.” He
then turned and walked away.

Remus turned and whispered to Samuel, “What on earth was that about, Stewart?”

“I was here a few years ago and helped the Ministry track down a group of assassins trying to
topple their government. Long story. I didn't know Murniv was the new Assistant Minister—I
probably could have gotten the portkey in ten minutes. Come on, let's go.”

The three Aurors followed Remus and Samuel, and were in turn followed by the five Weasley boys,
Malfoy, Snape, Hagrid, and Madame Pomfrey. Samuel glanced back at the large group and again
muttered several curses involving them and Dumbledore as he walked out the front doors of the
Minister's home. In the street, he held his wand and muttered “*Lumos.”*

When the blue bus arrived, he told everyone to get on but held back Megan by the arm.

“Ask her if she's taken anyone to Prokhov Alley today.”

“But you can…”

“Just do it.”

She asked the witch the question and Samuel smiled grimly when she nodded her head in fear. “How
long ago?”

“She said about three hours ago. She said the boy didn't say much, and she tried to warn him
about going there, but he wouldn't listen.”

Samuel waved his hand dismissively. “Tell her it's fine. The boy will be fine.”

“Why didn't you just translate? And why was she so frightened Mr. Hunt?”

Samuel turned and looked at Megan for a moment. “The fewer who know the full extent of your
abilities, the better. And Prokhov Alley has a terrible reputation. It's ten times worse than
Knockturn Alley.” He grinned when she simply nodded and found a seat while Samuel remained
standing, watching the progress of the bus. “*Three hours. We're close, but not close
enough.”*

Forty minutes later, they arrived a block away from Prokhov Alley which was as close as the bus
driver would go. Samuel led the large group out and around the corner into the alley. At the top of
the stairs, he snapped, “Stay here for a minute and look sharp. This is a bad neighborhood.” He
then went down the stairs and pounded loudly on the door. There was nothing. He pounded again.
Again there was no response. He swore and banged the door so hard the hinges rattled. “Open up you
old hag! I know you're in there!”

“Is that my sweet little murdpa come back for a visit?” came a voice laced with humor.

“Open this door or I'm going to kick it in!” roared Samuel.

The tiny old witch opened the door slowly and peered out. “Why come in, come in. It's been
ages since I've had this much company. Most people seem to be afraid of the neighbors. Ha ha
ha!” She looked from her small door up at Hagrid's large frame and shook her head doubtfully.
“You may stay outside if you wish, gigbo. I doubt anybody will bother you here.” Hagrid nodded in
agreement.

Samuel entered muttering under his breath while the rest filed in as well into a very large,
brightly lit room with a number of seats and a large table filled with food.

“Come, come. Have a bite to eat while we visit. It's a pleasure to meet so many of my little
murdpa's friends.”

“They're not my friends, crone. Where is he?”

“Who dearie? You'll have to speak up, I'm afraid I'm going a bit deaf in my left
ear.”

“You heard me. I don't know what silly little nickname you've give him, but we're
after the boy wizard who came here earlier.”

“Samuel, there really is no need to antagonize her like this,” whispered Remus.

“You don't know her like I do,” hissed Samuel.

“Oh, it is nice to get a polite visitor for a change. Here, madga, have a seat. Help yourself. I
hope the last moon wasn't too painful.”

She seemed oblivious to Lupin's startled expression.

“Ah, another madga,” she exclaimed, looking at Ron. “But there's something different about
you, isn't there? You're not really a madga any longer, are you? More like a cadmo, like
your twin brothers here.”

It was Ron, Fred, and George's turn to stare at her in astonishment.

“And two from the cave of snippis. But you're really not like snippis, are you? More like
quosnippis,” she chuckled.

“And of course, the three bidma—what's your word for them?”

“You know what they're called witch. Now if you're done with your little game,” warned
Samuel.

“And last but not least, my two young beautiful parrati. Here, have something sweet to drink,
not that nasty polyjuice. Why do you hide your beautiful faces? Come, set aside that old crow mask
and the Invisibility cloak. Come, reveal your true forms.” Pointing at Madame Pomfrey, she added,
“Reveal to us your courage my little red haired parrati.” Turning to look just over Pomfrey's
shoulder, she said “And show us your intellect my golden haired parrati.” Pomfrey's form
shimmered for a moment, and then a slightly nervous but defiant Ginny appeared as a surprised Luna
pulled back the Invisibility Cloak to the stunned and angry faces around them.

Ron exploded first but as he opened his mouth, no words came out.

“Temper, temper my little red cadmo. What's done is done and there is no undoing it. Now
come, my little murdpa, I do have something to tell you. You should come as well madga. You seem
much nicer and so much smarter than my little murdpa. Come.”

She led a fuming Samuel and a very curious Remus into a back room with several chairs and an
intricately woven rug on the floor. The door snapped shut and she sat down easily in a thickly
padded chair.

“Where is he Svetlina? He is very stubborn and very powerful, but he is all alone. We have to
find him,” explained Samuel in very controlled tones.

“You cannot help them now,” she explained sadly.

“What do you mean? We're only three hours behind him, probably only two by the time you got
done chatting with him.”

“We can help them Ms. Gorintov, but we need your help. We have a vague idea of where they might
be, but if you could point us in the right direction…”

“I'm sorry, I cannot.”

“Can not? Or will not?” Samuel rose threateningly. “I'm warning you, do not play your games
with us…”

“You believe I enjoy this gift? Do you?” hissed the witch. “Here, let me share it with you. Then
decide for yourselves.”

With a flourish of her hand, a crystal ball appeared in mid air. Their eyes were drawn to it as
a series of images played themselves out within its depths. As the ball darkened once again she
spoke in the tense silence. “In the first vision, you and your companions arrive in time to help
fight but you end up distracting him. In his attempt to protect you he is distracted but for a
single moment and falls before the vampire's strike. In the second he is alone, but he is angry
and focused. He is able to avoid the killing blow and continue…”

“But does he survive?” asked a pale Remus. “There were so many of them…”

“I do not know. That is beyond my sight.”

Samuel stopped pacing angrily and turned back towards the seated witch. “So we don't know if
he survives in either scenario. If we go help him, he may not survive that stab from the vampire.
If we don't he may still die from his other wounds or some later attack that we didn't see
in your vision. What the hell kind of choice is that?”

“The question you need to answer is whether the young padwi is better off fighting on his own or
fighting with the rest of you? You know him better than I. I have made my decision. Now make yours.
I will show you what I showed him if you wish—the decision is yours.”

After a quick glance at Remus, Samuel whispered, “Show us.”

Without a word, she motioned towards the globe and a series of hills and mountains appeared.

“How far is it from here?” asked Remus.

“About fifty miles,” she answered softly.

“Well, we better get started then if we're hiking,” replied Samuel. “Or will that get us
there too soon?”

She shook her head. “If you walk, you will arrive after the main battle. I believe that will be
their best chance.”

Samuel nodded briskly and turned and left without another word. Remus hesitated a moment as if
to speak.

“I am truly sorry, I wish I could be of more help,” she explained.

“We are grateful for your assistance. How was Harry doing?”

“The young padwi is very strong, but tiring. He is also very driven. I would enjoy meeting this
young roweni he hopes to rescue and is willing to risk so much for. She must be a very special
witch.”

“They are both very special,” replied Remus.

“He is her best hope. He is so full of power and potential. But he is also very angry right now.
So much rage and power—he must control them or they will destroy him.”

“He will do what must be done. He always has.”

“I hope so. For both their sakes.”

Remus turned and left. Samuel had already led everyone back out into the street when Svetlina
appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Good luck,” she called as they headed down the alley. “You'll need it,” she whispered to
herself.

*-*-*

Harry cursed again as he watched the sun drop lower over the western horizon, barely above the
distant mountains. He had been flying all afternoon and still could not find his way past the mists
he knew were concealing the tower where Hermione was hid. For the fiftieth time, a paralyzing doubt
struck him that perhaps he had been wrong, perhaps he didn't have the password, that maybe he
was already too late. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he banished those fears again. Ruthlessly.
He would not give up. Ever.

“Sarcad. Sarcad. Sarcad!” he shouted with growing frustration. Suddenly, he saw a huge valley
suddenly open up and spread out before him, seeming to push back the smaller valley he had been
skirting all afternoon. In the very middle, upon a large, easily defended hill surrounded by thick
forest and swirling mists he saw the remaining walls of what had been an enormous castle with a
large, round tower rising high from within its impressive fortifications.

“*The Iron Tower! At last! I'm coming Hermione! I'm coming!”* But his calls went
unanswered and he still could not sense her presence. Hovering outside the valley, he mentally
checked everything he had brought, making sure he knew where his various items and pieces of
equipment were hidden. He quickly disillusioned his Firebolt and transformed a piece of paper in
his pocket into a long slender sword which he hung over his shoulder in a scabbard he created for
it. He wanted to enter quickly and quietly, and would try to avoid using any spells in case there
were detective wards. His only goal was to find Hermione and bring her out safely. Everything
ready, he dived down into the darkening valley.

He was skimming speedily over the treetops when he sensed something large behind him.
Instinctively he rolled to the right and just dodged the sharp, powerful talons of what appeared to
be a small dragon. Then he dodged upward, over the top of another dragonlike form and ducked
quickly as it whipped a bony, but very flexible tail at him with a nasty barb on the end.

“*Wyverns!”* his mind screamed as he quickly analyzed the situation. “*Two full grown
wyverns—very fast and agile, nasty claws, very powerful beak, and a poisonous tail.* *This is
just what I needed.”*

Harry dove down into the trees, confident that he could give them the slip among the heavy
branches and limbs of the forest. He weaved among the tall trees for several minutes and then heard
a high pitched echoing that seemed to grow louder. Suddenly the air was filled with screeching bats
everywhere. Bats with very sharp teeth as they tore through his cloak, his shoulders and upper arms
as he tried to protect his face. There were too many to fight and he had no choice but to fly back
up out of the forest, hoping they wouldn't follow him there. Unfortunately, they continued to
follow him and he sensed the presence of the other two wyverns diving towards him as well.

He cursed under his breath. What were the odds that these kinds of predators would naturally
focus on him so much attention? No doubt they were some of the guardians of the Tower. With dismay,
he noticed that his broom was slowing down as it got pelted by the swarming bats and he realized
there was no way he was going to be able to outmaneuver the diving wyverns. So he disappeared.

He reappeared on the back of the larger wyvern. He could sense its surprise as it arched its
head and tried to snap at him with its beak. He didn't have long before the wyvern either bit
him or stabbed him with the tail so he reached for his sword quickly and plunged it deep into the
wyvern's neck, hoping to sever one of the main arteries. As the bats flocked towards him and
the powerful smell of blood, he hoped the scent of the blood pouring from its neck would distract
them as he teleported back towards his broom.

Unfortunately, he had gone and reappeared so quickly that the other wyvern had never noticed he
was gone. As Harry changed course, he was suddenly hit by the full weight of the wyvern from above.
He screamed as one of the talons raked his shoulder, but luckily his sword was still held above him
and had stabbed the wyvern in the leg, preventing it from getting a solid hold on Harry. However,
the wyvern had hit Harry hard enough to knock him from his broom. The broom sailed on as Harry
crashed into the top branches of several trees before thudding into a solid limb a dozen feet below
the canopy level. Harry fell through several more light limbs before managing to cling to one limb
and recatch his breath after having had it knocked out of him when he hit the limb above. He slowly
climbed down the large tree and looked around for his sword. Some of his luck held out, it had
landed tip first in a skiff of snow a dozen feet away from the trunk of the tree. As Harry pulled
it out from the ground, he saw the burning eyes of the surviving wyvern barely twenty feet away. He
looked around for his broom, but it was nowhere to be seen, and considering the speed at which he
had been flying, was probably a good mile or two away, wedged in a tree somewhere.

Harry raised his sword and backed up to place the trunk of the tree at his back. The wyvern
slowly advanced, limping a bit on one of its legs. Its wide wings were now folded over its back,
and it moved forward like a long serpent. It suddenly reared at Harry, its beak snapping to his
left while the claws raked to his right. Harry instead dove forward, rolling to his shoulder, and
rising to a knee with his sharp blade upraised. He threw himself forward and to the side, opening
up the abdomen of the wyvern who was now shrieking in agony as he spun underneath its belly. Harry
then rolled to the side and barely managed to avoid being crushed by the flailing wyvern, who was
now screaming loudly as it slowly died. Harry would have given it a final death blow, to end its
suffering and to shut it up, but the thrashing of the large body was too erratic and dangerous.
Instead, he quickly tied several strips of cloth around his bleeding shoulder as he grimaced
against the pain. He knew it would be too painful to fly right now, even if he could manage to find
his broom without using a spell to find it and summon it and possibly set off some magical
defensive wards, so he began jogging northwards across the thin crusts of snow, towards the
Tower.

Several hours later, he mounted a small hill and caught another brief glimpse of the Tower. His
breath puffed in the chilly air as he quickly surveyed the terrain in front of him. He estimated he
had another mile or two of forest, and then it looked like there were a few hills that bordered the
plain surrounding the final hill upon which sat the Tower and its protective castle. He glanced up
at the waning moon and was glad it provided very little light. Not that his enemies needed much. He
checked his watch—about eleven. He figured he should reach the hills just before midnight. He had
teleported ahead when he could—he hadn't detected any alarm wards when he had used it fighting
the wyverns earlier—but the forest was so thick and the mists had grown so heavy, that it was of
very limited use. He suspected the mist, too, acted as a defense in the valley, inhibiting magical
transportation by limiting the field of vision needed to teleport or Apparate safely. He could only
hope that the fog was lighter in the hills, maybe then he could teleport to the perimeter of the
castle and then maybe inside, but he doubted he would have any such luck.

Harry resumed his mile eating jog, trying to conserve some energy in case he needed it and
teleporting ahead when he had the chance. Forty minutes later, he believed he was fairly close to
the foothills when he heard the first howl, which was quickly joined by several others behind and
on either side of him.

Checking his sword and wand, he muttered, “You gotta be kiddin me. The bats and wyverns and
magical defensive wards and fog aren't enough? You've gotta have wolves, too?”

Harry picked up the pace and noticed that the howls were increasing in number and decreasing in
distance. As he broke through the tree line, he caught movement along both edges of the forest,
huge dark forms galloping easily in his direction before the mist thickened again. Harry increased
his pace up the nearest hill, praying there would be some sort of rock formation or something to
help him with some kind of defense. He didn't want to have to face a circling pack of wolves in
either a forest or an open field. Halfway up the hill, he did find an outcropping of bare rock. It
was not as high as he would have liked, only about fifteen feet or so, but it would have to do. He
turned back towards the forest and looked down the hill to try and get a count of how many wolves
he would face and quickly gave up. There were more pairs of gleaming red eyes than he wanted to
know. He raised his sword and flexed his shoulder—it had grown stiff in the cold night air, but it
would have to do. Maybe if he killed the alpha males who would attack first, the rest would slink
off in search of weaker prey. He hoped.

The wolves formed a large half ring around him, moving silently despite the crunchy snow. There
would be no escape. Harry continued to weigh the pros and cons of using magic versus the risk of
being discovered. He decided to wait a few more minutes and hope that he could drive off the
wolves, that they wouldn't be as driven as the wyverns and bats to attack intruders. He knew he
was probably just indulging in wishful thinking though. He pulled a couple of small balls from his
bag and then rolled them towards the wolves. They then exploded into small balls of flame and
rolled around on the grass while several of the wolves danced back.

But in the light, Harry saw several enormous wolves, coal black. “*Vampire mastiffs, along
with timber wolves.* *This just gets better and better**.”*

Then half a dozen of the largest grey wolves leaped forward at once. Harry whipped out his sword
and slashed out, hoping to drive them back. Several did leap back, but two others ducked under to
nip at his legs. Harry jumped backwards, then slashed to both sides to drive them back. The wolves
attacked again, this time trying to come at him from either side, and Harry slashed furiously to
keep them at bay. One of them was hit and went down in front of him rolling away from. The others
jumped back and Harry took a step forward to put him out of his misery. As soon as he did so, he
realized his mistake as a heavy body fell on him from above. He sensed it at the last moment, and
was moving forward and managed to avoid the entire crushing weight as the Vampire mastiff, which
was three times the size of a normal wolf, leaped at him and struck him a glancing blow, sending
him tumbling down the hill a dozen feet. Harry slowly stood up as the wolves closed the ring around
him tightly, completely surrounding him.

Throwing caution to the wind, he pulled out his wand. “*I didn't come this far to be some
damn dog's chewtoy!”* thought Harry and muttered “*Gladius,”* and then *“Neco
flamen.”* Then he cast a *Firebrand* charm on his other sword. Harry stood in the midst of
the pack of wolves, one sword glowing white, the other blazing orange. But his green eyes flared
even more brightly, as he slowly walked towards two of the largest mastiffs. “Here, doggy, doggy.
I've got a little treat for you.”

The hillside quickly turned into a chaotic tangle of burning fur, singed flesh, and yelping
curs. At the very center of the snapping, howling, horrific tornado stood a young man weaving an
incredibly intricate series of maneuvers with swords that never stopped slicing through air and
flesh. Lines of white and orange were drawn against the dark sky in dazzling combinations faster
than the eye could anticipate. The only break in the colored arcs of light occurred when Harry
teleported away from an attack or to launch a new assault himself. Fifteen minutes later, a
solitary form crested the hill as darkness descended on the bloodied and burnt hilltop again. He
wiped the sweat from his brow and sheathed his wand and sword as he stumbled forward and resumed
his journey northward, trailing large drops of blood as he marched through the light snow and thick
mist.

*-*-*

Samuel and Remus led the others southwest through the deepening forest. After leaving
Svetlina's they had taken a taxi to the edge of Sofiya and then hitched a ride with a farmer
back to his farm several miles southwest of the city. They had been walking ever since through
several inches of light snow, only stopping for five minute breaks every hour to grab a snack of
granola and some water.

Samuel was still in a foul mood and Remus was deep in thought. Ron had been about to chastise
Luna and Ginny when Draco leaned over and told him to drop it. Ron had almost said something to
Draco, but snapped his mouth shut instead. There had been no other conversation, there had really
been no need or energy for it after they commenced the quick march Samuel set for them.

Remus finally pulled Samuel aside and insisted on breaking for camp two hours after sunset. “It
will do us no good if you drive these kids into the ground Samuel.”

“Dumbledore was a fool for letting them come. I was a bigger fool for agreeing. I should have
left all of you back in Sofiya.”

“We've already been through all this with Svetlina. If you really think it's for the
best, go on ahead. I'll bring them along behind you.”

Samuel just glared at Remus.

“Otherwise, don't take out your frustrations on them. They're just as worried as you
are, and only want to help. And I think they've earned that right.”

“Fine, fine. Just keep them away from me. I'll be out scouting. Have them set a watch for
tonight. The closer we get, the more dangerous it will get.” Then he turned and left as Remus
watched him leave. Then Remus turned back to the Weasley brothers, the Hogwarts students and
faculty, and the other Aurors to help them set camp and start dinner.

*-*-*

“Awake my beauty, awake.”

Shuddering, Hermione opened her eyes to the pale, cold face of Vespus leering over her. He
pulled her to her feet and she looked down at the elaborate and beautiful black dress and robes she
was wearing, only dimly remembering the female vampire who had helped dress her hours earlier
before the accursed ceremony began. She had been sitting in some sort of throne for hours and her
head throbbed from exhaustion and the chanting and the smoke from the incense. Aardus appeared on
her other side and leaned down and easily picked her up as Vespus cheerfully led them from the
chamber where she noticed a number of other vampires had been present observing the ceremony. A
shiver ran through her body. “*Where was Harry? Wasn't he coming?”*

They led her to a small chamber off the side of the throne room and Aardus laid her down on a
large bed. Her eyes widened in horror and she gazed with alarm at Aardus, but there was no emotion
whatsoever in his eyes.

“Leave us Aardus and finish the preparations. We will be down shortly.”

“Of course Master,” and he turned and left immediately.

Hermione was having a hard time breathing as Vespus stood closer and laughed. “Do not worry, my
young queen, even with Elysia gone, there are plenty of others who are more than willing to take
her place. Besides, I am a gentleman. No, we have something far more important to finish tonight.
After tonight, you will see this world much differently, I promise.

You should feel honoured by the gift I give you tonight. Few ever receive the bloodkiss of an
Eldor. You will be more powerful than all of my other children after tonight. Enjoy the power and
privilege I give you while you can.”

He brought his left arm up to his face and sank his fangs into his wrist. Then he stepped closer
to Hermione and grabbed her shoulder and chin with a viselike grip. He brought his mouth closer,
his fangs still dripping blood, and then punctured the vein on the side of Hermione's neck.

She tried to scream but she felt completely paralyzed, except that she also felt like every
nerve ending was on fire. She remembered briefly what the *Cruciatus* curse had felt like when
she was seeing Ron's memories. Then she wished it was the *Cruciatus* curse instead of
what it was, the first step in transforming her into a vampire, into the Dark Queen of the
prophecy.

Vespus simply stood back, pulled a handkerchief from a pocket, and wiped his mouth. “I told you
that it was useless to resist. No human can withstand the power of a vampire. Once my blood, the
blood of an Eldor vampire, has spread throughout your system, your body will begin the change. Soon
you will understand why I must find the orb, why we have sought it for centuries. You see, it has
the power of life and death. And while we have tremendous powers, incredible strength, and long
life, none of that makes up for the agony of the bloodlust. You saw how it drove Elysia mad. It
threatens to do the same to all of us. As powerful as we are, we are still slaves to our cursed
addiction to blood. It haunts us every moment of our existence. With the orb, I can restore life—I
can break the addiction of blood and allow us once again to enjoy the comforts you mere mortals
take for granted. What joy is there in food, drink, dance, love, sport, reading, the arts or
anything else when all you can think about is blood? I will change all that. The orb will allow us
to enjoy living again, with all the powers a vampire has at his disposal. What's the point in
ruling the world if you can't enjoy it?

Ahh, I see the first stirrings of hunger within you. It hurts, doesn't it?”

In fact, Hermione realized, he was entirely correct. This new feeling *was* incredibly
painful. It was a sort of thirst that threatened to drive her mad, and she was horrified to know
what it was she wanted to drink…

“*Mistress! Mistress! Listen to me! Stay with me Mistress! Ignore the thirst!”*

*“I can't! I can't**!**”* whimpered Hermione. “*It's too strong! I
am sooo thirsty! I must…”*

*“Mistress, I understand! The weapon my father created is a vampiric sword. I only survive
within the sword because I feed off the energy of the blood it spills. I can help thee, but ye must
listen to me and trust me!”*

*“Help me Saldar! Please help me!”*

“Come with me, Miss Granger. I have one final surprise for you.” He leaned down and easily
picked her up and carried her towards a window where she could see down into a courtyard. There
were several dark figures around a beautiful white horse. But something was terribly wrong. The
horse was lying on its side and there was silver splashed all over the side of its neck as it lay
on the tiles.

Hermione felt sickened. And she felt even worse when she realized that she also felt very
thirsty.

“Once you have drunk the blood of another creature after being bitten, the transformation will
be complete. For most vampires, it is a human victim. But for a Dark Queen, it must be a powerful
creature of magic. And for my new Dark Queen, I have a special gift for you Miss Granger. Come,
your beautiful unicorn awaits you.”

She turned away in disgust, closing her eyes and trying to block out her new reality. A few
moments later, Vespus had carried her down to the courtyard where Aardus and a few other vampires
stood huddled around the bleeding unicorn. All had blood dripping from their faces. Hermione
squeezed her eyes tighter but nothing could block out the terrible, and now tantalizing smell of
fresh blood.

Vespus set her in the snow next to the bloody unicorn and Hermione was too weak to move away. He
crouched next to her and taunted her in a cold whisper, “Go ahead, drink. You know you want to more
than anything else in the world right now. Don't fight it, give in. Nobody can save you now—not
the Potter boy-he will be too late, not Dumbledore-he is too old, not Aardus-he lacks the will,
despite his pathetic attempts. Not even you, though mentally you are the strongest mortal I have
ever encountered. Even you lack the strength to save yourself. But don't fight it, accept it
and embrace it. Immortality and power beyond anything you can imagine are within your grasp. Go on,
drink up.”

Hermione leaned closer, seemingly against her will. Her eyes snapped open to look into the pale
blue eyes of the unicorn. She patted the bloody side of his neck where the other vampires had drank
deeply of its lifeblood. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted her hand to her lips and opened them. A
moment later her world went black with pain and energy and she fell back into the waiting arms of
Aardus.

*-*-*

A moment later, Harry fell to his knees in the snow clutching his ear. It was ice cold, but not
just from the frigid temperatures. He ripped the earring from his ear and clasped it in his hands,
willing it to warmth. But it stayed frigid in his grip. He clenched his hands into fists by his
side as he looked towards the heavens. A roar of primeval rage burst from his lips as the night air
exploded with magical power.

“NOOOOOOO!”

*-*-*

Samuel was returning from his scouting trip as he noticed a bright flash to the southwest
followed by a distant rumbling in the air. The earth then shook so hard that he was knocked to the
ground. As soon as he regained his footing, he sprinted back to the camp through the snow.

Though it was just after midnight, he noticed when he arrived that everyone was awake and
talking quietly about what they had felt.

“What was that?” asked Ron.

Samuel glanced at Remus quickly before replying. “I'm not sure, but I don't think it was
natural.”

“You think that was magical?” asked Bill.

“But for something that powerful you would need someone like…” started Charlie.

“someone like Harry,” finished Ron. “And for him to do something like that, something that
powerful, it must mean he's really upset about something.”

Ginny clapped her hands to her face and Luna took a step closer to her and threw an arm around
her.

“I've got a bad feeling about this,” finished Samuel.

-->



36. From the Dungeons Deep
--------------------------



Ch 36 From the Dungeons Deep

Harry sat up slowly and still nearly fell out of his bed from the dizziness. He heard a slight
tinkling as he moved and his wrists tingled. “*My bed? Where am I?”* He looked around in the
darkness frantically but saw nothing but the dim outline of several other beds. But this wasn't
the hospital wing at Hogwarts, or anywhere else he recognized. There was a rustle to his side and
behind him and then a flash of light as a candle was lit. Harry turned to look, but the light hurt
his eyes and he shut them tight. But judging by the height of the candle, the person carrying the
candle was not very tall.

There was a noise, like the sound of rock rubbing against rock and when Harry opened his eyes
again, slowly this time, his jaw dropped. There was a blonde-bearded dwarf standing in front of
him, trying to tell him or ask him something. Harry used the only phrase in Dwarvish he could
remember and said, “It is my pleasure to meet you. I am Harry Potter.” The dwarf tried saying
something again, but Harry could only shrug his shoulders. The dwarf held up its hand, pointed at
Harry and the bed, and said something Harry couldn't understand. He then lit a candle sitting
on the bedstand and then turned away. Harry blinked a few times and then looked around the room.
There were four bare stone walls and several other beds in the small room. He was dressed in a
light robe, but the rest of his clothing and his wand, pouch, and sword were nowhere in sight. And
around his wrists were a pair of what appeared to be copper manacles. He swung out his feet and
placed them on the cold, stone floor. He tried to stand, but his legs shook so badly he decided to
wait for a moment before trying again. Then he tried to figure out how he could have ended up in
what appeared to be a dwarven hospital.

The last thing he remembered was…his hand suddenly flew to his left ear and found only a scab on
the lobe where his earring had been. Then the rest came back in a flash. The moment he had realized
Hermione was dead, he had lost control. He had simply wanted to smash everything around him, he
didn't even care if he survived or not. His unbridled rage just wanted to destroy everything
around him. He didn't know how he had survived, and right now he didn't care. His shoulders
slumped and his head dropped as he tried to imagine what his life would be like without Hermione.
He couldn't do it. He simply couldn't imagine what he would do or how he would live without
someone who had become such an integral part of his existence.

He was pulled out of his bleak introspection when the blonde dwarf reappeared with a second grey
bearded dwarf.

“Welcome Harry Potter. Welcome to *Bilundergad*, the Underforge. You may call me Fribig.
The matron here who took care of you is known as Glindi. Now that you are awake, King Gromdi wishes
to speak with you. Please follow me.”

Harry nodded dumbly towards Glindi and staggered to his feet. He wobbled for a moment and nearly
fell. Fribig and Glindi both reached out to steady him, but he held his palms out, refusing their
help and wanting to stand on his own. Instead of leaving the room, they walked slowly at
Harry's pace to a corner of the room where several screens stood. There was a huge tub and
towels piled around it behind the screens. They urged him into the corner as Fribig explained.

“You may bathe here. I will bring you some clothing appropriate for speaking with the king. The
clothing we found you in was damaged beyond repair.”

“What about my other things?”

“They are being kept safe.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Almost three days.”

“Why am I chained? Am I a prisoner?”

“The king will explain. Now please hurry, the king is most anxious to speak with you.” Fribig
left Harry alone as he stripped and then stepped into the ice cold water. For minutes, he sat, not
caring that he was shivering but embracing the numbness of his body that matched the numbness of
his soul. Finally, he stepped out of the tub, dried himself off, and put on the clothing he had
been provided with. The pants were too short, but the shirt fit about right, apparently they had
found a young dwarf with a skinny chest whose shirt he could fit into. He thought he would feel
much worse after the cold bath, but in fact he felt somewhat revived.

He stepped out where both Glindi and Fribig were waiting. His strength returning quickly, he
followed Fribig out of the stone hospital and down a series of long corridors. As he followed
behind, he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye down one of the side passages.
He stopped and looked, but saw nothing but flickering shadows from the torches.

Fribig turned and urged him to hurry.

“Sorry, I thought I saw something moving,” explained Harry.

“What?” asked Fribig.

“I thought I saw a shadow of something, but it was nothing,” replied Harry.

Fribig walked back and looked down the hallway, frowning deeply. Then he turned and continued
leading Harry forward. They halted before two dwarven guards in metal armor holding polearms in
front of two massive bronze doors. Fribig said something and one of them slowly opened the door,
never taking his eyes off of Harry.

Harry followed his escort into a massive and beautifully decorated hall. For a moment, Harry
could do nothing but marvel at the highly skilled stonework evident in the elegant but massive
stone pillars and arches spread throughout the room. Then he detected the faint trace of magical
runes inscribed on the walls and arched recessed throughout the room. Along both walls of the long,
narrow room stood statues of stout dwarves in various aggressive poses—Harry suspected they were
monuments to past kings. The far wall was rounded, not flat and had a half dome above it. In the
rounded recess Harry could see a pair of thrones and a gathering of dwarves. Fribig led him down
the center of the room towards the group of dwarves.

When they were about twenty feet away, Fribig stopped and kneeled on the floor and said
something in Dwarvish. He then repeated it for Harry's benefit. “My lord, I present to you
Harry Potter, a human from the island of the West.”

Harry bowed his head slightly and said in his best Dwarvish. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

The king said something and Harry turned to Fribig. “He is surprised to learn that you speak our
tongue, though it is a different dialect.”

“Tell him that I do not speak it well. I have a friend who…I do not speak Dwarvish well and I am
sorry.”

Fribig began to translate for him.

“How did you escape from the deathless ones? The ones you call vimpirs.”

“I did not escape from them. I came here looking for them.” There was a burst of murmuring
around Harry, who though he stood a good foot or more above all of them, weighed less than half of
the lightest dwarf in the room.

“That is impossible. No human has set foot in this valley for centuries unless brought here by
the deathless ones. It is impossible.”

“It is not impossible, I assure you. I broke through the magical wards they have defending their
valley.” Once again, there was considerable discussion as Harry's comments were translated.

“What do you know of the explosion that took place three days ago? It opened a gorge that leads
to one of our upper tunnel chambers. You were found in that chamber unconscious three days ago. On
the surface, everything for three miles around this new chasm was wiped clean, the hills were
flattened, the forests destroyed. Several of our own caverns collapsed from the resulting
earthquake. Part of the castle wall of the deathless ones itself was destroyed. Do you know what
happened? Do you know who could have done something so terrible? Was it one of the deathless ones?
Did you see who did it?”

Harry paused, trying to anticipate the effect his answer might have. “The one responsible for
the destruction was not a vampire, it was a mage. He is an elemental mage, a mage with tremendous
power. He came to the valley looking for someone very close to him whom the vampires had stolen
from him. He came to rescue her. But he was too late. And when he realized that he was too late, he
lost control and in his anger and fury he unleashed the destruction that you witnessed.”

The crowd was very quiet as they waited for the king to speak Instead, a white haired dwarf
standing to his side whispered in the king's ear and then spoke instead and asked Harry, “And
what will this mage do now? Will he go home in defeat or will he avenge his loss?”

Harry stood still for a moment as the words washed over him. His numbed pain and grief receded
before the burning intensity of his anger and rage. His indifference, his indecisiveness, his
uncertainty and his lethargy melted away as his desire for vengeance burned through him again. His
eyes blazed brilliantly in the torchlit room as the air quickly cooled. “I will find her murderers
and I will destroy them. They will never harm another living being again. I swear it.”

When Fribig was done translating his words, the king leaned back and whispered something to the
white bearded dwarf while the rest of the dwarves muttered, many of them glaring very suspiciously
at Harry. The king looked up for a moment, waved his arm, and then returned to his intense
discussion with the old dwarf.

“Come Harry Potter, we must leave.”

“What are they doing?” asked Harry as he followed Fribig out of the throne room. “Why am I still
chained? Why are you keeping me here?” he asked angrily, shaking the metal chain hanging between
his wrists.

“They are discussing your fate. You are chained with wizard cuffs, they prevent human wizards
from using their magic.”

Harry followed quietly, fuming as he walked behind the dwarf back to the infirmary.

“I will bring you some food shortly. You may rest here.”

“Aren't you afraid I might run off?” snapped Harry.

“We do not fear a wizard with no magic. Besides, it would take a very strong human to even budge
a dwarfdoor, let alone open it. I will be back with your food.” He left Harry alone in the
infirmary.

True to his word, Fribig returned quickly with a heaping platter of steaming meat and a pitcher
of stout Dwarvish ale and then left him again. Harry dug in hungrily, subtly changing the liquor to
pumpkin juice. He wanted his wits clear and he wanted to be sure they weren't trying to drug
him. Lastly, it was comforting to realize that just as with the guardian of Atlantis, he was still
able to use his elemental magic.

Harry was halfway through his meal when the door opened again and in came the old, white bearded
wizard he had seen in the throne room by the side of the king. Harry looked up and stopped, waiting
for the dwarf to approach.

“Please, do not stop your meal on my account,” indicated the old dwarf as he entered and sat in
a chair near Harry. “I apologize for interrupting but we have little time. If you do not mind, I
will speak while you eat and I will try to answer any questions you may have.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Fribolg, a counselor of the king. Fribig is my son.”

“Why am I wearing these?”

“The dwarves of the Bilundergad clan, as a rule, do not generally trust wizardkind,” began the
grizzled dwarf.

“I can understand that, but nearly twenty mountain dwarves of the Angisle clan allied with us to
fight Voldermort last spring,” explained Harry.

“As you say, they were of a different clan. They have had a different history than we have had
with wizardkind. And I learned enough of this Voldemort to understand why they stood with you. But
I am the only one who has ventured out of these halls in over forty years besides my son.”

“But that doesn't explain why I have to wear these.”

“You are the first wizard or witch who has entered our halls in more than two centuries. Most of
the dwarves fear your presence. Most of them think you are a spy from the vampires. Those who doubt
you came from the vampires fear the power you wield, especially if you are the one who used the
destructive magic on the surface. Either way, they intend to eliminate you as a threat.”

Harry snorted. “If they just wanted to kill me, why did you bother rescuing me?”

“We do not kill defenseless opponents. They will continue talking and drinking all night, and
one of them will challenge you to a trial by axe tomorrow.”

“Well, that doesn't sound too bad. What will we do? Throw at a target or something?”

“No, you will stand fifty yards apart and throw forty pound axes at each other until one of you
falls dead.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds about as fair as our legal system.”

“I never said that it was fair, but it is our way.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I thought it would be best if you knew what to expect tomorrow. Because I was hoping to
learn something from you that might help me change the king's mind. And because I believe you
can help us recover what is rightfully ours.”

“Before or after one of your friends tries to split me in half?” roared Harry in exasperation.
“And why would I want to help you?” asked Harry, rattling his chains. “You've imprisoned me and
basically sentenced me to die tomorrow morning. Why on earth would I…”

“Because we share the same enemy. The Iron Tower belongs to the dwarves. But since the deathless
ones came over a thousand years ago, we have been confined to the lower reaches of our realm.”

“Well how many of there are you? Surely you have more than enough dwarves to dislodge a few
vampires?”

“There are many more vampires now, and they have other allies as well. They have a powerful
Guardian, a terrible white dragon that dwells in a large cavern between us and the fortress of the
Iron Tower. And there are other enemies that haunt the upper halls. The deathless ones usually stay
in the tower, the dragon never leaves its cave, but the others, the shades, they are always there,
waiting for us to come.”

“The shades?” asked Harry.

“We fought many battles in the first decade of their arrival. The deathless ones brought in a
terrible Dark Wizard, the Necromancer, he was called, and he took the spirits of our dead, no
matter where we buried them or how we protected them, and put them into the service of the
deathless ones. Drimli the Golden finally killed the Necromancer, but our ancient dead still haunt
the upper halls, still cursed to serve the deathless ones.”

“You said they wander the halls? What keeps them from attacking you?”

“Drimli devised a torch, a powerful torch, that keeps them at bay. They fear its fire and
retreat before it. But they occasionally catch a dwarf foolish enough to wander off by himself
through one of the upper tunnels.”

“Why haven't you left? You and your son have left and returned. Why don't you all just
find somewhere else to live?”

“We are dwarves and these are our halls. We will not abandon them or our dead.”

“Look, any other day I'd like to help Fribolg, but I think you're the only one that
wants my help. I have no quarrel with these shades or the dragon. I just want the vampires. And I
think I've stayed long enough, so…”

“If you want to get to the vampires, you'll have to go through the other guardians.”

Harry raised his hand. “I think I can manage. Now if you'll just tell me where I can find my
wand, I'll be off.”

“I'm afraid I can't tell you that.”

“What? Then why did you come?”

“I told you, I came to…”

Fribolg's voice was suddenly drowned out by the deep sound of a horn that echoed throughout
the stone halls. Harry looked up in confusion as Fribolg's eyes widened.

“You must come with me now. Quickly!”

“What? Where are we going?”

“Back to the throne room. We are under attack!”

“What? By who?”

Harry's questions were left unanswered as the dwarf grabbed one of his wrists and nearly
pulled him from his feet. Harry ran as quickly as he could, unable to break the iron vise grip and
amazed at how fast the dwarf could run. They passed dozens of dwarves running the other way as they
made their way down the wide passages back to the throne room. They burst past the guards and made
their way through the large hall again.

As they approached, Harry saw the armored dwarves huddled around a long table where the king was
pointing out various places on what appeared to be a map. Nobody noticed their arrival amidst all
the commotion.

Fribolg pulled Harry close and whispered roughly. “The shades are attacking in mass. They are
trying to swarm through all of our defenses at once, it seems. I…I do not understand. They have
never…”

“You said they were still cursed to obey the vampires, right?

“Yes, but the vampires have never tried to expand beyond…”

“This is all my fault. The vampires want me. And they know I'm down here now. I think I saw
one of those shades earlier when your son brought me to the throne room the first time. This attack
can't be a coincidence. I was here for three days and they did nothing—I've been awake for
an hour and now they decide to attack, something you say they've never done before. I've
put you all at risk by just coming here. Tell me where my wand is and I'll go. Maybe
they'll leave you alone if I'm gone.”

“I do not know where it is. All of your possessions were given to the king for safekeeping.”

“Then tell him. TELL HIM NOW!”

As Harry shouted, a few of the dwarves noticed their presence. While they were talking, the king
had picked up a huge torch that burned with a silvery white flame. He had been headed towards the
doors with his generals, but stopped to look back at the commotion on one side of the room. He
looked at Fribolg and said something.

“Tell him I am sorry that I have brought this evil to your home, but if he will give me my wand,
I will leave and try to draw them away. TELL HIM!” Harry roared again, his green eyes burning with
growing anger as the room slowly cooled.

“He says he will not sacrifice you to the shades, you are still under his protection,” explained
Fribolg.

“What?!”

“He will take the torch and lead the defense of the halls. We are to stay here.”

Harry looked up as the king and his generals turned to leave.

“NOOOO!” roared Harry, and everyone turned to look at him. With a burst of wild, elemental
magic, he burst open the wizard cuffs and they fell clinking at his feet. He then raised his right
hand and shouted, “Accio wand!” One of the chests on the side of the throne room burst open, wood
and chain links flying everywhere. His wand soared to his fist as the dwarves watched in
astonishment.

Harry looked at the torch the king was holding and saw some runes etched into its surface as
several of the dwarves lifted their axes threateningly.

“You say the shades fear the light of this torch? Does it destroy them or simply drive them
away?”

“It…it drives them away,” stuttered Fribolg, still stunned by what he had just witnessed.

“I need to examine the torch,” explained Harry, ignoring the dwarves slowly closing in on
him.

“It is only for the king to hold. It is forbidden for all others to touch…”

“What do these shades do to the dwarves they find?”

“They steal their souls and turn them into shades themselves.”

“Then tell your king that unless he lets me examine the torch, Clan Bilundergad is about to
become Clan Shade. I might be able to help prevent that, if he lets me look at the torch.”

There was a heated discussion between the advisor and the king, and then the king stepped
forward and held the torch towards Harry. Harry put his wand in his belt and traced the runes with
his fingers, whispering quietly as he did so. It was what he had thought. The torch had been
created by a mage and imbued with an ancient and early variation of the *Patronus* charm. It
could repel these shades, but was not powerful enough to destroy them and allow them to rest
peacefully in death. Harry thought hard for a moment, with many of the dwarves watching him
angrily.

“Ask the king if he wants to finish this once and for all. Ask him if he wants to provide peace
in death for his ancestors.” When Fribolg hesitated, Harry snapped, “Ask him!”

Many of the dwarves still looked extremely angry, but there were a few faces that reflected
hope.

“He wants to know what he must do.”

“Tell him to raise his weapon in the air. Tell all of them to raise their weapons in the air and
I will give them what they need to defeat the shades and let them rest in peace.”

Harry looked around as several of the dwarves raised their weapons, including the king. The king
growled and the rest of the weapons went in the air.

Harry whipped out his wand and with a large, slashing movement above his head he intoned,
“*Clavis Durmines Neco Pax!”* White light leaped from the raised axes in the room and
reflected in the startled eyes of the dwarves.

“Tell the king that when these axes strike the shades, they will go down and stay down to rise
no more. The rest is up to you.”

As Firbolg translated there was a deafening roar let out by the dwarves as they charged from the
room, led by their king.

Fribolg turned to Harry, “He has asked us to stay here while he rotates the guards back so that
their axes can be enchanted as well, if you are willing.”

“Tell him we'll stay for fifteen minutes, and then we're coming to help.” Fribolg smiled
as Harry walked over to the chest to get out his other things. He pulled out his pouch and tied it
to his belt. He removed his sword and quickly enchanted it as well. He pulled out his boots and put
them on, but the rest of his clothes were gone. With a flick of his wand, he transformed his
awkward fitting dwarven clothing and made them more comfortable. He stepped away from the chest but
a sparkle of light caught his eye. His jaw clenched as his hand reached down and pulled out the
small diamond stud. It still felt ice cold. Once again, he could feel the rage building as he
dropped it in his pouch and turned. The room was nearly full of dwarves, looking at him anxiously.
Harry nodded towards Fribolg and he enchanted their blades when they had all lifted them. The room
filled and emptied three more times before Harry grew too impatient to wait any longer.

“Let's go,” he said to Fribolg.

“But there may be a few more who…”

“It's been twenty minutes. I'm tired of waiting. I'm going. You can stay here if you
want.”

Fribolg raised his heavy, two-handed axe and quickly led Harry out. Within five minutes, they
found themselves in a large cavern. At a narrow section of it stood a large wall being defended
ably by the dwarves, with their king in the middle directing the counterattack.

Fribolg ran up to him and returned to Harry two minutes later. “He says we'll hold, for now.
Based on reports he's getting, this seems to be where the majority of the shades have come for
their attack, though he's afraid some may have already slipped through some of the defenses
elsewhere, before the alarm was raised.”

“Then we need to defeat them here. I'll see if I can create a diversion.” Harry climbed one
of the walls and looked over into the teeming mass of shadows. He couldn't even begin to count
how many there were. He raised his wand and roared, “*Expecto Patronus!”* but nothing
happened. He tried again, trying to focus on one of his many happy memories of time spent with
Hermione. But all he could think of was the cold diamond in his pouch. Screaming loudly in bitter
frustration, he raised his wand and transformed it into another blade to match the one in his left
hand. Then, to the shock and concern of the dwarves surrounding him, he simply disappeared.

A moment later, one of the dwarves with very good eyesight saw at the far edge of the cavern
what appeared to be a faint line of light. He informed his captain, who then passed it up the ranks
until the king was notified and he too searched. He raised a spyglass and then swore in utter
amazement.

“It is the human mage! He fights alone against our enemies while we wait behind this wall. Will
we let him have all the fun?” he roared.

There was a deafening “*NOOO!”* to which he responded, “Open the gates! We finish it now!
For Clan Bilundergad and our dead! Follow me, axe-dwarves of the Iron Tower!”

There was another deafening roar as hundreds of angry dwarfs poured through the opening gates to
take out centuries of frustration on the shades of their slain ancestors. Their gleaming axes
sliced through the shadowy forms of the wraithlike creatures, and many of them, long after the
battle was over, insisted that they saw contented smiles on the ghostlike faces as they were struck
down.

Forty-five minutes later, the king and his generals made it to one of the spaces Harry had been
carving out for himself, working along the edges of the massed Shades. Fribolg had tried to keep an
eye on him amidst the battle, but it was nearly impossible—every time Harry was nearly surrounded
or about to be overwhelmed by massed shades, he simply teleported to another area and continued his
sustained destruction of the enemy. His bewildering, chaotic, and unpredictable attacks threw the
enemy into confusion and eased the advance of the dwarves from the wall. Even with the battle
nearly finished, Harry continued to spin and slice as shadow after shadow fled before his wrath, or
disintegrated under his shining blades. Harry was so deep into his battle trance that he nearly
took the head from one of the first dwarves to approach him. The other dwarves quickly backed up to
give him some space.

Fribolg had to shout three times before Harry looked at him and slowly lowered his swords. He
didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings at first.

“Is it over then?” he gasped, breathing heavily.

“Yes, the king is sending out patrols to check the remaining halls, but the battle has been won.
Thanks to you.”

“You did it. I just gave you the weapons to use. Now which way to the dragon's lair?”

“Shouldn't you rest first?You look exhausted and…” but Fribolg backed up a step as he saw
Harry's green eyes still burning with unquenched rage.

“I have sworn an oath to avenge Hermione. And I have wasted too much time as it is. Now if you
don't know or won't tell me, I will find it on my own.”

“Please, at least stop and rest for thirty minutes. You can at least have something to eat
before you tackle the dragon. Besides, the king insists. And he promises to send a troop of dwarves
with you. He is very grateful for your help this day and apologizes for his earlier treatment. He
hopes he can make it up to you and…”

“Food and drink will be fine,” sighed Harry, sitting heavily on the ground now that the
adrenaline was finally wearing off. He quickly assumed one of the meditative poses he had learned
from Dumbledore and Saldar, trying to gain control of his emotions again as well as getting a
little rest before he continued.

After eating and drinking, Fribolg asked him again. “The king would like you to reconsider.
Surely another day or two…”

“NO. They may not know their shades have been defeated. I may still be able to preserve some
element of surprise. Better to push on now, then give them time to come up with more defenses. And
I'd rather go on by myself, it would be easier and quieter and I might find a way to slip past
the dragon if I go alone. All I need is a guide to show me the way to its lair and then…”

“No, the king insists on aiding you just as you have helped us.”

“Very well, let's get going then.” Harry stood and watched as twenty other dwarves, along
with Fribolg and his son Fribig stood.

“Fribig will accompany you and translate for you. The king has requested that I stay behind. I
am sorry, I cannot go further with…”

Harry extended his hand. “Thank you for everything you have done. I will never forget it.”

“Nor will I. May your enemies fall beneath your axe, or in your case, your swords.”

Harry nodded and turned towards Fribig, who signaled to the other dwarves. “Let's go.”

Harry and Fribig led the others out of the large cavern along a passage that led up.

An hour later, Fribig stared down two branching tunnels.

“Do you know where you're going? Have you been this way before?”

“Yes and no. The tunnels my father and I have taken are far to the south. I have never ventured
this high to the north. No living dwarf has. But we are dwarves, we recognize the work of our
ancestors. For example, I can tell by the way this wall has been planed, it is nearly nine hundred
years old. See these tiny grooves evenly spaced every six inches or so? We haven't used a water
trowel to flatten walls in centuries. And the rounding of the corner between the tunnel split
indicates the same period as well. We are close, I just need a moment to think…Ahh, to the right.
Come, quietly now.”

Harry sighed as the metal clinking of the dwarves seemed like drums in his head. Dwarven stealth
left a lot to be desired. He only hoped the dragon was a very deep sleeper, since there was no way
they were going to catch him by surprise if it were awake.

While the tunnels had grown slightly warmer as they approached the surface, Harry noticed that
the tunnel ahead felt decidedly cooler. He put his hand on Fribig's shoulder and stopped
him.

“I'm going ahead to scout it out. Keep the others here until I get back.”

Fribig nodded but when one of the dwarves protested as Harry left, Fribig growled something at
him. Harry disappeared and moved silently down the corridor, moving steadily upwards through the
chilly air.

He emerged into a large chamber and quickly moved to the side, out of the main passage. He
nearly tripped over something lying at his feet and realized it was a skeleton still dressed in
armor. He quickly sidestepped it and set his feet down carefully around a discarded weapon and a
broken chest. As he slowly looked around, he realized the entire floor was littered with treasure
and skeletons. Harry gasped in amazement as he tried to calculate the vast fortune he saw before
him. He had seen glimpses of dragon treasure hoards before, but nothing on this scale. Harry
suddenly wondered if the reason the king had insisted on sending additional help was to help him
defeat the dragon or to recover the treasure that had probably been taken from the dwarves
centuries ago. Suddenly he found that he didn't care one way or another. He had seen no trace
of the dragon that was to live here, which simply made it easier for him to begin the final ascent
towards Iron Tower and his final confrontation with the vampires that had murdered his beloved. He
leaped into the air and was flying to the other side of the immense cave when he heard it.

A slight rattling of metal links told him the dwarves were no longer waiting down the corridor.
A joyous shout was followed by the sound of a mad stomping as several of the dwarves rushed to
various treasures near the entrance. Harry turned away from the noise and the light of their
torches and headed towards the far side of the cave again when he heard another sound—a slow
groaning and a clicking sound. Harry turned in growing horror as the shouts of joy and their echoes
slowly died within the room.

In the center of the cave rose a massive figure. At first Harry thought it was one of those
dinosaurs that Hermione had shown him in one of the Natural History museums in London during the
summer. A huge body of bones slowly rose from behind the mounds of treasure that had hidden it from
sight. As Harry felt his skin crawl, he realized that the major difference between this skeleton
and the ones he had seen in the museum, was that these moved on their own. Bright blue eyes gleamed
with malevolence within the bony skull and seemed to bore straight into him. The head then swung
past him and focused on the small troop of dwarves near the tunnel mouth.

“Dirty thieves! How dare you disturb my rest!”

Most of the dwarves stared silently, trying to recover their courage as they paused, but the one
that had grumbled when Harry left shouted defiantly, “This is our treasure wyrm and we intend to
reclaim it!”

“Insolent rockbreaker! You will sleep forever with the rest of your kin!” The bone dragon's
mouth opened and a bolt of lightning leaped from its mouth into the chest of the dwarf. His charred
body toppled over backwards as his companions roared in outrage and charged forward, waving their
shining axes with terrible fury.

Three more fell before the others got close enough to start swinging at its legs. Two more were
thrown fifty feet to the side as his massive tail crashed into their chests and sent them sailing.
He wondered briefly whether he should not simply abandon these greedy, foolish dwarves to their
deaths—after all, he only wanted to kill the vampires and he was already past the dragon. Then he
saw Fribig barely dodge a tail swipe and made his decision.

Harry watched the battle for a moment, his anger growing, but fairly certain that the dragon
would not be defeated by crude force. He looked closely at the dragon, trying to detect what form
of magic had kept it alive and animated it. Finally, he detected a faint blue glow in its chest as
well, one that matched the glow of its eyes. Glancing back at the dwarves' attacks he realized
that none of them were tall enough to directly attack the creature's chest. Choosing what he
thought was the best strategy, he disappeared.

A moment later, he reappeared within the bony chest of the dragon. The tail lashed out again
violently and the torso twisted, throwing Harry against one of the bony ribs. The dragon's head
then twisted down to peer into the chest cavity where Harry had appeared.

“The quiet thief is seeking a hiding spot? You have chosen very poorly,” it roared. It raised
one of its bony talons and plunged it through the spaces between its own ribs. Harry twisted
violently and then screamed in pain as it plunged into his thigh. The dragon withdrew the claw and
Harry lunged forward, reaching for the fist sized blue gem that hovered above him. As his hands
clasped around it, he received a terrible jolt of power that knocked him back down. He screamed
again as one of the talons then scraped and bounced along his own ribcage, opening a gaping, bloody
furrow along his side.

“*Orbis energis!”* he yelled.

A pulsating white globe of energy appeared around the blue gem and Harry disappeared as the
dragon claw came plunging in again.

He appeared thirty feet away from the dragon, just out of range of the lashing tail. He vaguely
noticed that only five dwarves were still on their feet, besides Fribig.

“Back off!” he yelled futilely, knowing that they couldn't understand him.

Two more were crushed beneath the bone dragon's stomping claws and a third was incinerated
by another lighting strike. Fribig had heard him and was now yelling at the other two dwarves.
Harry dissolved his invisibility and shouted, “Over here you bag of bones. Over here!” He then
teleported to the side as the head swiveled towards him and another jet of lightning struck where
he had just been.

He taunted the dragon a few more times and kept teleporting as the dwarves backed out of range
of the dragon's tail, trying to look for some way of helping Harry. The dragon ignored them,
all of its attention focused on the irritating wizard.

“A thief and a wizard!” boomed the dragon. “I'll make your death painful indeed!”

“*I did not come for your treasure**, wyrm. I am only interested in the vampires. I will
make them pay for what they have done.”*

*“Do not try to influence my thoughts, mageling. I will not be tricked by one of your
spells.”*

*“Then by all means, let us continue the fight. The sooner we are done, the sooner I can
avenge my loss on the vampires. But it will not last much longer, you are already
weakening**.**”*

*“I will destroy you for your impudence!”* The dragon released several more lightning bolts
in Harry's direction, but they too, missed their mark.

*“Great Wyrm, I have already won. Even now, my magic orb is draining the energy from the gem
that keeps you alive. So unless you can destroy it, you will soon be joining your dwarven victims
here in your cave.”*

*“You foolish, blabbering idiot! Now I will destroy you!”* The dragon plunged one of its
claws into its chest, shattering its own ribs. The claws closed around the brightly glowing orb and
squeezed. Tighter and tighter and then there was a muffled boom and then the sound of shattered
glass. There was a high pitched scream and the dragon bones fell to the floor with a rattling
crash.

The dwarves had been knocked to the ground by the force of the explosion and slowly crawled to
their hands and knees. Harry had been blown across the cavern and thrown against one of the stone
walls. Shaking his head he teleported back to the side of the fallen dragon and uncloaked himself
in his human form. A great shadow was taking shape and slowly coalescing into the form of a large
dragon. Harry bowed his head and shifted into his dragonform. Ignoring the startled gasps of the
dwarves behind him, Harry looked up at the cloudy shape which had bent its head towards him.

“A human princeling? Ahh, that explains much mageling. You have my eternal thanks for rescuing
me from my living damnation. I now go to my rest. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure to release you. May you rest well in the peace you have earned.”

“Princeling, if you truly seek the vampires above, search out the oak chest with brass
fastenings. There will be a dark star on the front as well. Claim for yourself the sword and shirt
of mail that lie within, they will serve you well against the vampires. The cursed metalpounders
will claim the rest for themselves, no doubt. May thy claws pierce the hearts of thy enemies,
Princeling. Farewell.”

The cloud form slowly dissipated into the dark chamber. Harry sat back wearily on a pile of
gold, blood dripping heavily from his side and thigh. As the other dwarves slowly neared him, he
reached into his pouch and pulled out several bandages and potions. He gulped down a pair of
Hermione's SAPs and then began wrapping his thigh.

Looking over at the shocked dwarves, he said, “He's dead for good now. He…”

“What? How?” asked Fribig.

“I created an orb of energy that linked itself to a jewel in his chest. The dragon has been dead
a long time, but either the vampires or the Necromancer found a way to animate the skeleton and
prevent his soul from departing the body. The orb itself was draining that energy, but I don't
think it was powerful enough to destroy it on its own. And I wasn't sure of the exact
counterspell to break the gem myself, since I'm not sure exactly how it was created. So I
tricked him into destroying both the orb and the gem for us. Now he said there was an oak chest
with brass fastenings and a dark star on it. He said there were some items that might help me
defeat the vampires in it. Do you think you could find it for me? You can keep the rest of the
treasure, I don't want any of it—most of it probably belonged to your ancestors.”

Fribig stood up straight and announced. “All of this treasure belongs to you by right of
conquest, Harry Potter. It is yours to do with as you wish, we will not contest it…”

“So is that why the other dwarf didn't want me going in by myself? He was afraid that I
might claim all the treasure for myself?” asked Harry angrily. “Is that why the king sent the rest
of you, to make sure that…”

“I assure you that King Gromdi was only concerned for your safety. Unfortunately I cannot say
the same about all of the other dwarves like Bramji.”

“Well, tell them to rest easy then. I only want the sword and shirt that are in that chest. The
rest can go to King Gromdi to redistribute among the other dwarves, please make sure that the
families of the others who fell because of Bramji's stupidity and greed are compensated. And
you and your father should get something extra for all of your help.”

“I cannot accept such…”

“Just ask the other two to go look for the chest. And you, write up a document or whatever you
need to do and I will sign it. But I have to be going quickly…”

Fribig nodded and said something in Dwarvish while Harry finished taking his potions and tying
off his bandages. He then ate lightly some food he pulled out of his bag while the dwarves searched
the cavern.

Half an hour later, Fribig woke up the lightly napping Harry and set down the oak chest in front
of him. Harry quickly checked it for traps and then opened the lid cautiously. A black scabbard
held a short sword with a dark leather grip with a midnight colored pearl in the pommel. It lay on
top of what appeared to be a light silver cloth that lay folded on the bottom of the chest.

Fribig whistled in awe as Harry picked up the sword and drew the blade. Its ebony blade seemed
to absorb the light around it, it was nearly impossible to determine the exact edge of the blade
itself. Harry held it carefully, looking to see if he could discern any runes or markings etched
into its surface or on the hilt but he could detect none.

“Do you know anything about this sword?” he asked as he belted on the scabbard.

“No,” replied Fribig in an awed whisper, “but it must be truly magnificent if it is paired with
this shirt.”

“What is so special about this shirt?” he asked, waving his hand over it as he had the sword,
trying to detect what sorts of enchantments it might have. He had sensed incredible power in the
sword, but was puzzled by the signs—it had indicated both very powerful healing abilities as well
as destructive powers. He could sense nothing about the shirt whatsoever.

“This mail shirt is made of adastrimite. It is highly resistant to magic as well as most
physical blows.”

“Is it bullet proof? Would it stop an *Avada Kedavra?”* asked Harry eagerly.

“What are those? I do not know. This metal is very valuable—it is worth ten thousand times its
weight in gold.”

Harry lifted the light fabric. “But it hardly weighs anything at all…”

Fribig scowled. “A figure of speech. The metal to make this is not found on this earth…”

“What? That doesn't make any sense…”

“It falls from the skies. Very seldom is there enough left to make anything worthwhile, most of
the metal burns up before it hits the ground.”

“Are you saying this is made from a meteorite?” asked Harry.

“I do not know if that is your word for it. But that shirt is made from rocks that fall from the
heavens. Probably many rocks.”

“But who created it?”

“Why the dwarves, of course. Do you believe anything but a dwarf could fashion something so
perfect?” snorted Fribig. “Some master craftsman made this mail shirt long ago, to protect the
wearer against wizard attacks. And this shirt would have been forged by one of the greatest of
master craftsman, adastrimite is very difficult to work with.”

“Well, if this shirt is powerful, how did it end up hidden in the treasure hoard of a
dragon?”

Fribig scowled again as he looked at Harry. “If you had been wearing it, it would probably have
saved your side from that nasty scratch. But it wouldn't have protected your leg. Another inch
to the left, and you would have bled out. It can't protect you against poison, or from freezing
to death or sheer stupidity, but it can protect you from quite a bit—especially most forms of
magic. There is no such thing as perfect armor, there's always a weakness. Nevertheless, that
is an amazing shirt you have there, fit for a king. I hope it protects you well.”

Harry nodded and winced as he pulled off what was left of his shredded and bloody shirt. Fribig
helped him slide the new shirt over his head. It felt cool to the touch and though he thought it
would be a bit large, when he swung his arms it fit perfectly. Fribig stood back, nodding in
satisfaction. Harry thought for a moment, then picked up what was left of his shirt. With a flick
of his wrist, he mended it as best he could and had Fribig help him put it back on.

“No sense showing off my new armor before I need it,” he grinned. Then he paused, “Will I be
able to cast magic with it on?”

Fribig rolled his eyes. “You just did, didn't you? The adastrimite resists magic cast at it,
that's why only the dwarves work with it. You wizards could never do anything with it, you
always had to come to us.

Harry nodded and then stood slowly. His side and leg still ached, despite the potions he had
taken, but he was determined to go on. Now that the need to focus on the battle had receded, he
could feel the anger and rage he had been ignoring slowly surfacing again. He checked through his
pouch again, making sure he had the things he might need. He knew there wasn't too much more
thinking to be done. Soon enough he could simply unleash all of his fury upon those who had stolen
Hermione from him. Soon, he told himself, there would be no more need for research or trying to
coordinate allies. He could simply act on instinct, using all the skills and power he had developed
over the past year and a half to destroy those who had destroyed him and the one he loved.

Harry turned to Fribig and extended his hand. “Thank you for your help. Go back now and tell the
king that you have defeated the dragon and reclaimed its treasure.”

“We will accompany…”

“No,” snarled Harry. “I go alone. This is my fight and my vengeance. The dwarves have suffered
enough.” Seeing that Fribig was going to protest. “Do not force me to stop you from following
me.”

Fribig nodded in defeat. “Fare thee well. May your enemies fall quickly.”

Harry nodded and began walking towards the far end of the cavern, disappearing quickly.

*-*-*

Minutes later, cloaked, silent, and flying, Harry raced through the tunnels, flying ever
steadily upwards. Rounding a series of stairs, he followed one more tunnel that suddenly
dead-ended. Cursing, thinking he would now have to retrace his steps, he suddenly noticed a rune
that began glowing. Several more started glowing and Harry swore again, trying to figure out what
kind of trap or detection ward he might have set off. Throwing caution to the wind, he hoped that
the wall wasn't more than a foot or two thick. It probably wasn't if this was a door that
led up into the castle. He guessed and teleported.

He reappeared in between two vampires who were busy arguing.

“nothing can get past the dragon. It's impossible.”

“then what triggered the ward?”

“Probably another rat, like last time.”

“What if it's the mageling who blew up half the forest three nights ago?”

“Whatever did that didn't survive. It blew itself up as well.”

“Wait, do you smell that? Blood!” The vampires eyes narrowed in hunger. “What is that, a
bat?”

Harry realized he was going to get nothing else of use from the guards. In less than a
heartbeat, he had transformed to his human form, his wand into a sword, and had pulled out his
black short sword, which was humming almost imperceptibly. As the vampires both charged towards
him, Harry crouched down as he turned sideways and then rose up, plunging his swords deep into the
chests of the attacking vampires. As the swords slid easily through their ribcages, Harry hissed
“*Silencio*,” in case either of them tried to raise an alarm. Both opened their mouths and
screamed voicelessly while they clawed at the swords futilely. Suddenly, Harry felt a surge of
energy creep down the arm holding the black sword and spread throughout his body. He glanced over
and realized as he shifted slightly that his side no longer hurt. He flexed his leg and amazingly
there was no pain. While the limp body of the vampire impaled on his wand-sword slumped against
him, the vampire skewered on his short black sword was shaking and shuddering as a dark mist left
the body and wrapped itself around the sword. Harry's mouth opened in astonishment as he
watched the sword finish draining the energy from the vampire and healing his body. The clothes of
the vampire fell to the floor now that there was nothing left holding them up and Harry simply
looked at the short sword in amazement before a wide grin broke out on his face. He left his
wand-sword in the vampire for a moment, went over to a chair and broke it apart silently. Happy
with the sharp chair leg he found, he kneeled by the vampire and quickly pulled out his wand. The
moment it left its chest, it shuddered and then fell still again when he plunged his impromptu
stake back into the chest wound. Healed and full of energy, Harry drew his swords again, cloaked
himself, and resumed the hunt with a chilling smile below his blazing green eyes.

*-*-*

Several floors above, Vespus smiled as leaned back in his throne in the large room. “*Most
impressive Potter,”* he thought to himself. “*You are far more clever and tenacious than I had
suspected*.” With a quick glance towards Aardus on the side of the dais, he added, “*though I
suspect you had some help finding the Tower and breaking through its protections. I will deal with
that later. But for now, come my young vampire-mage in the making.* *Come to your
master.**”*

Aloud he commanded, “Take your places. The mageling will not defeat you, my children. And
remember, I want him alive for now.” To his side he hissed, “Aardus, you will stay close to
me.”

Dozens of vampires faded into the shadows of the enormous hall, leaving it empty with the
exception of Aardus and Vespus by the throne. The heavy dark curtains normally guarding the high
windows of the room were thrown back to allow what little light was offered by the sliver of moon
high in the heavens. Vespus smiled grimly in anticipation. Within minutes it would all be over.

He detected nothing of Harry's approach until he stepped silently within the room. Then the
pounding of his heart, though it beat at its normally slow rhythm, the swishing of blood through
the arteries and veins, and above all, the scent of fresh blood nearly screaming to be drank
alerted the Eldor to the mage's presence. No amount of magic or stealth could fully conceal a
living body from a vampire as powerful as an Eldor, though some of his children might not be aware
of his presence in the room yet.

Vespus simply sat and waited, wondering idly whether the young wizard would simply attack him or
would make his presence known first and launch some tiresome threats and angry demands for justice
and vengeance. He almost chuckled as he anticipated the coming battle.

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37. The Iron Tower
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*** Author's Note—I wanted to take a moment and thank all the great reviews I've
received, especially those of you who have been so kind as to offer me feedback on nearly every
chapter. I deeply appreciate it and I feel the story has been greatly improved by your insights.
Thanks again. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the remaining story I have left to tell. We're
almost to Atlantis, I promise.

Ch 37 The Iron Tower

They had just finished dinner when Samuel appeared by the fireside. “I've found it. I've
found the valley.”

Ron stood up and voiced the sentiments of everyone there. “Let's go.”

Ignoring their aching feet and tired backs, the group quickly packed and began marching again
behind Samuel and Remus.

Two hours later, Remus paused at the top of the pass and gazed down into the valley. “Sarced,”
he muttered and the valley expanded. He looked down at the mist shrouded woods and hills below him
and then glanced sharply at the Iron Tower in the distance under the dim moonlight, still shrouded
in mist. After a moment of study, he looked high above and found Samuel's hawk form circling
the valley, also studying the terrain. Then he looked back down the path at those who were
following him. They were nearly exhausted, he knew. He had been arguing with Samuel for days now
about the incredible pace he had been putting them through. Even the Aurors looked tired. But there
had not been one complaint, not even from the young girls. This was a tough group and he was proud
of them. He held up his hand, indicating they would take a brief rest at the top for a few
minutes.

Ron stepped near and asked quietly. “So this is it, huh? This is the hidden valley?”

“No, you need to say the password first. Samuel has been flying all around the perimeter, but
there seems to be only one small passage that allows you into the valley, even with the password.
Try it.”

Ron muttered “Sarced,” and then whistled in awe as the valley changed form before his eyes. He
then squinted in concentration. “Is that the Iron Tower?”

“I believe so.”

“But what happened on the edge there—it looks like one of the walls has been knocked down
or…”

“So have the trees and hills in a circular pattern around it.”

“But what could have…”

Ron looked at Remus suddenly. “The earthquake and flash of light we heard three days ago.
Harry!” He rushed forward only to be restrained by Remus' powerful hand.

“Whatever happened there three days ago, there is nothing we can do about it now. We will give
the others a few minutes to rest and then we will go into the valley and make our way to the Tower.
We'll wait for Samuel to return—he might have discovered something we can't see.”

Remus led him back to the others who were sitting and resting in various positions alongside the
trail in the snow. “The Iron Tower is in the next valley. We're almost there folks. We'll
rest for fifteen minutes and then continue.” Nods replaced the need for vocal affirmations, as
Remus pulled a large thermos from his pack. He then walked around, filling everyone's cup with
a shot of hot cocoa that tasted very refreshing and warm.

Ten minutes later, Samuel landed on the edge of a rock and transformed back into his human form.
“That's quite a little blast area Harry created. He took down an entire corner of the castle
walls and flattened a couple of square miles of forest and hills. But there's no trace of him
anywhere in there. If you're all rested, let's go.”

Remus didn't object this time. The group reshouldered their packs and followed Samuel and
Remus through the heavy snow, over the pass and down into the valley. Once on the valley floor,
they aimed straight for the Iron Tower as they trudged through the forest.

An hour later, they came across the skeleton of a small dragon. Samuel bent down by it and
examined it closely. “A wyvern.” Pointing at several fractures in the front shoulder and some
broken wing bones he added. “Looks like this one crashed hard. He hasn't been dead very long, a
couple of days maybe.”

“But he's nothing but bones,” protested Ron. “How could it have decomposed so…”

Samuel glanced at him and continued, “Some sort of predator ate him. Something small. Lots of
`em by the marks left on these bones.”

Ron and several others in the group shuddered as they continued.

Ten minutes later they found another wyvern skeleton. Samuel stopped and examined this one as
well. Examining a large leg bone and the backbone, he declared. “Harry finished this one off with
his sword. Probably the other one as well. He stabbed it in the leg while they were still airborne.
The wyvern landed over there, and…” Then he looked up at a nearby tree and stepped closer,
examining the ground and the branches. “And Harry fell into this tree. See the broken branches
coming down the side of the trunk? Harry got up there, the wyvern found him, and Harry dove
underneath it, slicing so deeply into its stomach he scratched the inside of the backbone there and
there with his sword tip.” Samuel shook his head from side to side. “Sloppy, sloppy. Too deep a cut
risks getting it stuck in the creature.”

Remus and the rest just stared in shock at Samuel as he criticized what to them must have been
an amazing battle. Part of their astonishment came from the fact that he could decipher what had
happened from a few scratches on some bones and a few broken branches in a tree.

“Why didn't he just use a spell?” asked Ron.

“And possibly set off who knows how many defensive wards they might have scattered around the
valley? He was trying to maintain the element of surprise.”

“So Harry's on foot now?” asked Ron. “But what happened to his motorcycle?”

Samuel looked at him incredulously and snapped, “He didn't bring the motorcycle.”

“What? I thought…” stuttered Ron.

“He probably left it back in Sofiyah. He would have used his Firebolt here, it's more agile
and it's silent. It's probably around here somewhere, but we need to move…”

“Maybe I can find it…” offered Ron.

“Put that wand down, you idiot!” hissed Samuel.

“But what about the big explosion? I'm sure that announced his presence to everyone
here.”

“And for probably a hundred miles around. Why he lost control like that I don't know, but
there's no reason to let them know there are others in the valley. Let's go.”

It was easy to follow the trail, even those with little experience in tracking could spot the
huge drops of blood that marked Harry's trail in the snow. Several hours later they came across
the destroyed area they had seen from the hills bordering the valley. It was an impressive and
chilling sight. All of the snow had been swept from the area. Huge trees had been snapped from the
ground and broken into splinters. Huge boulders had been smashed into pebbles. They walked slowly
through the area, working their way towards the Iron Tower under the feeble light of the stars.
Samuel suddenly paused and kneeled on the ground. Remus, Ron, Fred and George paused and sniffed
the air, their noses crinkling.

“Wolves,” hissed the three Weasleys in unison.

Samuel picked up and held what seemed to be a fluff of fur then walked around slowly,
occasionally bending down to look at the ground before adding, “Yeah, lots of wolves.”

Several minutes later, Samuel halted on the crest of a ridge. “Here's where Harry lost
control.” He searched the area for several minutes, but found nothing but Harry's tracks
wandering off to the North. “I don't get it. He wasn't attacked by anything on the ground.”
He glanced up. “And there's no way to tell if it was something from the air. But you would
think that whatever it was, its body would be around here somewhere unless he incinerated it
completely or…I don't know. I don't know what set him off like this. But he had to have
been desperate to unleash so much power.” Samuel ignored the worried stares of his companions and
began following the tracks. Five minutes later they ended at the edge of a large fissure in the
ground. Laying on his stomach, he peered down. “That goes down a long ways,” he whispered. Then he
looked up at the Iron Tower, which was only another mile or two away and shook his head. “So close.
I can't tell if he fell down or… ”

“He's not dead!” insisted Ron. “He's not!”

Samuel glared back at him and started to say something when Remus spoke. “Nobody said he was.
What we need to do is decide which way to go. Do we follow Harry down or do we go to the Iron
Tower?”

Samuel looked over at Remus. “We go to the Iron Tower.”

“And abandon Harry?! Never!” shouted Ron. “I'm going after him!” And Ron jumped into the
darkness.

Samuel reached for him but too late. Cursing he glared at the twins. “Go with him! Hopefully he
had enough brains to transform into a hawk before he hits bottom. Bring him back if you can, either
way, the rest of us are moving on to the Iron Tower.”

Fred and George transformed and dove into the dark crack in the ground.

Luna looked sadly after them and stood closer to Ginny who also had a very worried expression on
her face.

Snape and Malfoy stared at the hole in shock as did several of the Aurors, shaking their heads
in amazement. Samuel snapped, “Let's go!” and marched off.

Lupin was a little more gentle in his persuasions and walked beside the two girls with Hagrid in
the rear.

*-*-*

Ron floated down through the cavern, using his excellent eyesight and the feeling of the air
drafts to avoid crashing into the walls. He didn't know how long he descended, but finally
sensed the bottom of the cave approaching. He landed and transformed back into his human form. He
raised his wand and muttered “*Lumos*!”

A moment later, he heard two soft thumps and then the hissed recriminations of two very upset
older siblings.

“Of all the stupid,”

“idiotic things to do,”

“this has to be,”

“right at the top!”

“Shut up you two,” he hissed back, “unless you want everything that lives down here to know
we're here.”

“Like they don't already,”

“you stupid prat.”

“Your stupid wand practically,”

“screams, `Come eat me!”

“OK, OK. Let's stop arguing and go looking for Harry.”

“No, we're going back up and…”

“Unless you can carry me in a full body-bind, I'm staying down here.”

Fred and George glanced at each other and then turned toward their younger brother.

“Fine. Do you know where you're going?”

“No, but Harry had to come this way.” Ron looked around and found a small pool of blood on the
ground. He looked at it thoughtfully and then looked back up. “That can't be Harry's. There
would be a lot more if he fell all the way down here.”

“Harry can fly too, you prat!” snapped Fred.

“Right. So he's probably OK, then. And it looks like there's only one way out of here.
That way.” He said pointing with his wand.

The three walked side by side, with Fred and George holding their wands at the ready while Ron
held his lit wand up for them to see.

Ten minutes later, they heard several loud, thumping sounds and the clink of metal banging on
metal. They looked for a place to hide but there was none in the wide hall. The three fanned out,
to give themselves a little bit of space and readied themselves for a possible fight.

Ron squinted at the three figures who came jogging down the corridor. They slowed and then began
walking forward cautiously while Ron and his brothers held their ground.

They barely reached Ron's ribcage, but were a bit wider than he was with long beards and
metal armor. And they were carrying huge axes that seemed way too large for them.

“Hey look! They look like the dwarves that sang the Valentine Day songs a couple of years ago…”
started Ron.

“Except they look ten times meaner!” finished George as the three ducked a pair of axes thrown
in their direction.

The middle dwarf shouted something at the other dwarves and then said in English, “Are you from
the island in the West as well?”

Ron repeated the dwarf's question. “Island in the West?”

“Great Britain? Yes, yes,” shouted Fred.

“Was Harry here as well, then?” asked George.

“Are you friends of Harry Potter then?” asked the dwarf, while the others still watched the
three Weasleys with doubt and mistrust.

“Yes!” the three answered.

“Is he hurt? Is he OK?” asked Ron.

“He was, but we helped heal him. But he is in grave danger as we speak. He seeks to destroy the
deathless ones all by himself.”

“You let him go by himself?” screamed Ron.

“We tried to help him, but he…”

Fred held up his hands. “Yeah, OK, we got the picture.”

“Can you show us where he went? We've come to help him,” added George.

Fribig looked at them for a moment and then turned to his dwarf companions and said something.
They ran off in the direction they had been heading and turned down a corridor they had somehow
missed.

Fribig then spoke. “Come, I will take you there myself. Are you wizards as well?”

“Yeah,” replied Ron.

“That is good. Though larger than your friend, you do not look strong enough to lift an axe.
Come.”

*-*-*

Harry paused in the center of the chamber. Something was wrong. This was too easy. Corlyn and
Aardus were just sitting there, as if they were expecting…

Corlyn disappeared just as a huge hole exploded in the back of his throne.

Harry was struck so hard in the chest that he went flying back to the middle of the room,
sliding halfway on his back. He rolled over and struggled to get to his knees, tried to catch his
breath and realized he had lost the short black sword. When he managed to stand up he saw that
Corlyn had pulled it from the front of his chair.

He held the sword cautiously, looking at the humming blade with loathing as the black pearl
pulsed darkly, before he turned towards Harry. “I see you've defeated my pets below. Very
impressive young Potter. That's what I've always enjoyed about you. You are truly a man of
action, a man of few words. Indeed, your actions speak far more loudly than anything you ever say.
But not really very sporting of you to try and kill me without even letting me see you.”

Harry uncloaked himself and stood still, feeling his rage return and grow, trying to come up
with another strategy.

“And I see you have acquired some nice new toys. The mail shirt is very nice, but will not save
you from a vampire's bite I'm afraid. And of course, I cannot allow you to play with this
any longer—I'm afraid I will have to hold on to it for you. *Shadowbreaker* is far too
dangerous in the hands of someone like yourself. But where are my manners? Children, let me
introduce you to one of the heroes of the wizarding world, Harry Potter.”

Harry looked around in disbelief as dozens of vampires emerged from the dark shadows. He had
anticipated there would be more than just Aardus and Elysa, but not this many.

“Harry Potter, meet my children.” Corlyn raised his arms dramatically as he looked around the
room. “You will be one of them soon.”

“Never.”

“Ah, I was afraid you'd lost your voice entirely. Surely you don't believe that you will
be walking out of here alive?” Vespus began chuckling.

“Nobody's walking out of here.” Harry raised his wand-sword and hissed “*NECO FLAMEN!*”
The bright, pulsing white of the sword dimmed in comparison to his flashing green eyes.

“Take him children. Be careful of his sword though, he is quite skilled with it.”

Harry simply smiled as the ring of vampires closed in on him. All eyes were focused on his
gleaming sword as he slowly turned around, trying to anticipate which vampire would attack first.
Nobody noticed his left hand reach into his pouch and pull out a small object.

When the vampires were within ten feet, Harry dropped the acorn a few feet in front of him. The
sound echoed in the silent room and all eyes snapped to the rolling seed on the floor as Harry
raised his hand towards it.

“What?” asked Corlyn in surprise. The air suddenly chilled as there was a rumble in the floor.
Cracks appeared around the oakseed as a green tendril shout up out of it. The walls shook and
seemed to melt as the green stem grew, upward and outward. Within moments it stood at a foot, then
two, then ten and then twenty five, and finally threatened to crash through the roof as the
vampires backed up. The oaks limbs and trunk grew thick and stout and finally forced Harry, too, to
step back. “What?” repeated Corlyn and then he shouted, “NO! Get back my children! NOOO!”

Harry disappeared as the oak tree suddenly exploded in the faces of the vampires, sending deadly
slivers of wood everywhere in the room. Aardus dove to the ground and moaned as he started pulling
thick slivers out of his side. Corlyn had moved behind the throne, but the other vampires in the
room were not so lucky. Over half had been impaled immediately by the flying stakes and many of the
remaining had been severely wounded. The room echoed with the screams of the injured vampires
desperately clawing at their flesh to try and remove the deadly wood from their bodies.

“*SOLARIS ORBIS INFLAMMUS!”* shouted Harry and a glowing ball of fire exploded in the
center of the room where the tree had been. The walls had been melted earlier when Harry drew on
their energy to fuel the tree's growth and had been left with a highly polished, reflective
surface. Not only was the light blinding, but also extremely painful to the surviving vampires,
though not as deadly as actual sunlight.

“*Accio Shadowbreaker!”* yelled Harry as he stabbed the nearest vampire to him with his
wand-sword. The sword tore itself from the startled vampire's grasp and flew to Harry's
outstretched hand. Harry had closed his eyes and was relying on his other senses to assist him
since he was unable to see in the blinding light either. The moans and groans of the wounded
vampires were very helpful. His building rage broke through the carefully controlled order he had
displayed until now, making it impossible to tap effectively into his elemental powers.

Suddenly the light was gone. Corlyn had recovered and extinguished the light quicker than he had
hoped, but Harry continued stabbing vampires as quickly as possible, trying to lessen the odds
stacked against him, as he ducked beneath swiping claws and various weapons swung at him by his
vampiric foes.

His arms and legs were soon bleeding freely from dozens of scratches and narrow misses, but they
healed as quickly as *Shadowbreaker* found a new victim. His mail shirt protected his chest,
shoulders, and back from the more savage blows, as well as several spells launched by some of the
vampires who had once been wizards. Suddenly he was knocked flying again. This time he managed to
hang on to both of his swords, though he struggled to regain his breath. Standing as quickly as he
was able, Harry spun to face Corlyn and the thirty or so surviving vampires who were able to
stand.

“Enough!” roared Corlyn. “You will surrender now and serve me. Or you will die and serve me like
the dragon. It is your choice.”

Harry began chanting in a very low voice as he raised both of his swords, his eyes blazing with
fury.

“Kill him,” ordered Corlyn. The vampires rushed forward eagerly.

Harry sidestepped the first series of attacks, moving more quickly than was humanly possible.
Three vampires fell as the next wave washed over Harry. Harry teleported back and forth among the
vampires, his swords never pausing, his rage and fury driving him beyond even his exceptional
limits. The white arcs he weaved were punctuated with straight black lines as he slashed and
stabbed his way through the vampires. He was untouchable when he teleported, and when he was beside
an enemy, the speed spell he was chanting gave him superhuman quickness that exceeded even that of
a vampire. The vampires altered their tactics, too, shifting to shadow before the onslaught of his
wand-sword. But the black sword stole their energy just as quickly whether they were corporeal or
ethereal in form. Finally, one of the vampires landed a solid blow in Harry's back, right above
the kidney, and then another struck his stomach, knocking the wind from him and sending him sliding
backwards a dozen feet. As he struggled to rise again, his arms were grabbed by hands with inhuman
strength and he was raised roughly to face Corlyn.

Harry took some joy in the fact that there were only six vampires besides Corlyn still standing,
though he was disappointed he hadn't killed them all. Suddenly he collapsed in the arms of the
vampires, feeling suddenly drained. “*The speed spell,”* he thought as Samuel's words
echoed in his head, “*is very useful in a fight, but make sure you finish off everyone when
you're done with it or they'll finish* *you* *off very easily. Once you*
*stop* *repeating the chant, you'll be* *as* *weak as* *a* *lamb for
about an hour or so, depending on how long you c**hanted the incantation**.”*

“Have you finally accepted the inevitable, Potter?” sneered Corlyn angrily. He looked around at
the devastation and shook his head in disbelief. “I should kill you for what you've done to my
family, but on the other hand, if they were so easily defeated by a mere boy, then maybe they did
not deserve the power I gave them. As impressive as your powers are now, they will be as nothing
when I have turned you and made you my slave. And since I have obtained the knowledge I needed
about Atlantis soon there will be nothing to stop me.”

Harry's eyes blazed when he heard the word Atlantis and he closed his eyes in concentration.
Corlyn's throne ripped itself from the floor and crashed into the vampire, sending the seat and
its master crashing to the floor in a heap halfway across the room. Harry fought desperately
against the exhaustion that overwhelmed him and managed to find the energy to turn towards the
vampire holding his hand and the black sword and his fury doubled when he saw that it was Aardus.
He tried to twist the sword and stab Aardus, but realized he didn't have the strength to do so.
Suddenly his hand was twisted and pulled into Aardus's side. Harry gasped as the energy flowed
into him. Sensing movement to his side, he didn't have time to unravel the mystery that
continued to be Aardus as he then tore free of Aardus's grip and stabbed the vampire holding
his right arm. Then he disappeared behind the other vampires and stabbed two more before Corlyn
regained his feet after tossing the throne aside. Harry slashed and stabbed the remaining two as
Corlyn advanced again though not before one opened a huge gash on his right arm and the other
stabbed his leg again. Harry dropped to a knee and plunged *Shadowbreaker* deeply into one of
the wounded vampires, soaking up its energy and watching calmly as Corlyn walked forward, brushing
dust from his robes.

Corlyn simply held out his hands. “Well done, well done. I must admit that I have seriously
underestimated you, Mr. Potter. But I am afraid that your resistance must stop here.”

“You've killed everything I care about. All for some stupid trinket from Atlantis. I swore
an oath that I would destroy those who murdered my Hermione. And I'm only one vampire away from
fulfilling that promise.”

“Murder Miss Granger? She is not dead, you foolish boy. She is more alive now than she has ever
been. But I promise you, that if you destroy me, you will destroy her as well.”

“WHAT?!” exclaimed Harry in disbelief. “I don't have time for any more of your lies
monster!” Harry stepped forward as he raised his swords.

“Potter! She's alive!” hissed Aardus. “As alive as a vampire can be. But if you kill Master
Vespus, then she will die. We will *all* die.”

“Silence!” commanded Corlyn.

“What?”

“What Aardus was trying to explain to you was that because I was the vampire who turned her, if
you destroy me, you destroy her as well. All of my children, including traitorous Aardus and your
beloved Hermione, owe their continued existence as well as their obedience to the vampire who turns
them. They serve me, as will you.”

Harry turned in disbelief as Corlyn shifted to shadow and then reappeared by a hidden recess
near the throne. With a bony finger he beckoned. “Come and see your precious Hermione. And then you
will have one final choice. Join us and I will allow you to spend some time with Miss Granger, or
die, and end up serving me anyways. As you said, none of us will walk out of here today—alive.”

Shaking, Harry followed dumbly. Entering the room, he saw a large bed with Hermione laid out on
it. Her face was pale, but she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her appear before. Her
features seemed sharper, and yet more delicate and feminine at the same time. She was easily the
most beautiful person he had ever seen, veela included, and he could feel a slight tugging on his
mind similar to the charms Gabrielle had used, but much more powerful. Her curly brown hair still
framed her ivory colored face, but there was a streak of silver in her hair just by her left brow
as if she had bleached just a few locks of hair. But he couldn't tell if she was breathing or
not. She appeared to be lifeless on the bed. He fell to his knees beside her, his sword tips
ringing on the stone beside him.

“Mione! Mione! What have they done to you?!” he cried. He felt the anger and rage and
frustration building again. To come so close only to lose her again. He couldn't take it. Not
again. He screamed in rage. Then Svetlina's words came back to him “*Do* *not fear to
do* *what is necessary when the time comes.* *NOOO! I can't do it! I can't! I
can't kill Mione!”* Tears poured down his face as his hands curled around the hilts of his
swords.

“Have you made your decision? Are you ready to join your beloved in my service?” sneered Corlyn,
as he raised his bloody fangs from his wrist and leaned towards Harry.

“Go to hell!” roared Harry as he spun and stabbed upward.

But the vampire was quicker and stronger. He easily captured Harry's wrists and squeezed
until Harry heard the bones snap. He screamed in agony and fought to maintain his grip but the pain
was unbearable. Again, they fell clattering to his side.

“What foolish mortal pride is this? She thought she could resist me as well. She broke and you
will break as well, my foolish young wizard. I might have allowed you to spend some time with her
before she is destroyed to fulfill the prophecy but you must be punished for your willful
resistance. He slammed a fist into Harry's chest and he could feel several of the ribs crack
beneath the blow. Another blow to the side of his head sent him flying across the room and he
bounced hard off of the stone wall. Harry struggled to rise, fought to find the rage that had
brought him this far, sought desperately to find anything that might help him survive long enough
to turn things around one final time. His body ached and screamed with pain while the accumulated
exhaustion from the last week's worth of battles suddenly drained whatever energy he might have
had. He managed to raise his head slightly as the vampire bent down and lifted him as he would a
rag doll.

Shaking him furiously, Corlyn slowly lowered Harry close to his face. Harry struggled to
breathe, as Corlyn's hand slowly tightened on his throat. “I will break you tonight. You will
take the place of the treacherous Aardus who somehow led you here. You will pay every day for the
rest of your miserable existence for destroying my family. Know now that you will become the thing
you hate and despise the most, just as Aardus did. Your first victims will be those you love and
care about the most, starting with that red-headed family and your beloved mentor Dumbledore.” With
a flick of his wrist, Corlyn sent him flying across the room again where he landed on the floor
next to the bed.

Coughing blood, Harry looked around for some means of escape. He couldn't even think
straight anymore. The pain and weariness, combined with his surging emotions, made it difficult to
concentrate on anything but his desire to kill Corlyn. In addition, he could feel his head starting
to ache again like it had the first time he had met Corlyn. He realized it now for what it was—a
subtle form of mental attack. Between them all, he didn't have the energy or the mental clarity
to teleport or Apparate away. Besides, he could not and would not abandon Hermione now that he had
found her again.

Corlyn reached down and picked up Harry again and lifted him from the floor, holding him again
with one hand around his throat.

Choking, Harry realized he was finished. He had no more tricks up his sleeve. “*Hermione.
I'm so sorry I failed you. I love you. I'm sorry I didn't get here in time to save you,
I'm sorry. Please forgive me.”*

*“Master Potter…”*

*“Saldar?!”*

*“Master Potter, I've been trying to reach thee since ye defeated the great wyrm in the
cavern below, but thou hast been consumed with thoughts of revenge.”*

*“Uhhh, what?”* mumbled Harry as he began to lose consciousness.

*“Master, I've been trying to tell you that Mistress Granger…”*

Harry suddenly dropped to the floor. He managed to roll to his side and looked up and then
nearly went into shock at what he saw. Hermione was awake and had plunged the Sword of Godric
Gryffindor through Corlyn's chest. Corlyn had such a look of surprise on his face that Harry
wanted to laugh. Then he saw a mist around his body as she twisted the sword, causing him to scream
in agony. Harry reached for the black sword, fighting to ignore the pain. He gritted his teeth as
his fingers found the hilt and he dragged it slowly on the ground until it hit part of the mist
around the vampire's body. As the energy filled him he glanced at Hermione and nodded.

She kicked him in the back, so that he fell forward on his knees. Crouching low on one knee,
Harry drove *Shadowbreaker* into his chest as Hermione pulled her sword smoothly from his back
and with a quick overhead motion easily severed his head from the rest of his body.

“That's for Harry,” she spat at the headless corpse, and then kicked the head angrily
through the open door, “and that's for me!”

Harry looked at her in shock for a moment. “Mione!” he screamed. “You're alive! You're
not dead! I thought…He lied again! I knew I shouldn't have believed that either of those…”

“Oh, Harry! Are you OK?” asked Hermione, kneeling by his side.

“What?!” cried Harry. “I thought I was too late to save you! I thought I'd lost you. And
then I thought you'd die if I killed him and…and I'm so sorry I didn't get here
sooner…”

“It's not your fault Harry. You did everything you could. I'm just so happy to see you
again before…”

“I'm here Mione. I'll never let anything happen to you again, I…”

“Shh. Don't worry, it's OK now Harry,” she insisted, wrapping her strong arms around
him. “It's almost over now. Corlyn is dead and…”

“I'm afraid not,” whispered Aardus, who had crawled to the open door, “because I'm still
alive.”

Harry and Hermione broke their embrace and looked at him in surprise.

“Apparently you didn't leave your new little sword in me long enough to take away all of my
energy or life force or whatever it is that nasty little thing feeds on. And an Eldor is very
difficult to kill. It takes more than a simple wooden stake or even,” he smiled grimly at Hermione,
“decapitation.”

Hermione turned from Aardus to look sadly at Harry. “Then you'll have to do it Harry.”

“Do what?”

“You need to kill me.”

“I can't. I won't!”

“You were ready to a moment ago.”

“That was different. We'll find a way to break the binds between you, we'll find a spell
to imprison him or something. We'll figure out something together. You don't have to die
just because you…”

“I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm too dangerous to the world. I'm the next Queen of
Darkness which has been prophesied, and I will destroy the world.”

“I will not kill you because of some stupid prophecy!” screamed Harry.

“*Mistress!”*

“I am sorry, but my life isn't worth the lives of thousands or millions of people.” She
reached down and grabbed Harry's wrist right below where he still gripped *Shadowbreaker.*
“I am sorry, Harry. Please understand.”

She slowly pulled his arm and the sword tip closer to her stomach. He tried to pull back but
couldn't—she was much stronger than he was. Realizing what she was trying to do, Harry grabbed
the sword with both hands and put one of his feet against her stomach to try and stop the
blade's plunge into Hermione's stomach. “Saldar! Aardus! Help me!”

“*Mistress, NOOOO!”*

“Don't Miss Granger!”

Harry could feel her arm tense for the final plunge into her stomach. Harry, in desperation,
pulled sideways on the hilt and sliced open part of Hermione's stomach and her left bicep.
Harry screamed in pain as a similar cut opened on his stomach and arm and he doubled over in
pain.

“Harry! What have I done?!” screamed Hermione, dropping the sword and rushing to his side.

“Pick up the sword and bring him here,” rasped Aardus. As Hermione moved, he added “Now help him
hold the blade.” When she did so, he grabbed the blade tightly, ignoring the searing pain it caused
him as he plunged it into his wound for a moment and then pushed it away.

Harry's body immediately relaxed and he rose to his feet, glancing from his own healed
wounds to those of Hermione. Then he looked from the blade held in Hermione's hand to Aardus,
who lay collapsed on the floor. “What's the matter with you two?!” he yelled and took a step
towards Hermoine. “Give me that back before someone gets killed with it.” He managed to wrench the
sword out of her strong fingers as she looked at Aardus in complete surprise.

“I don't understand,” said Hermione. “Why did the sword hurt Harry? And why did it heal both
of us when it touched you Aardus?”

“You are not a vampire, Hermione,” whispered Aardus, lying weakly on the floor.

“What?! How can you say that? You saw what he did…You saw me drink the unicorn's…You were
there! I am a vampire and I need to be destroyed before I do any more damage to…”

“Oh, shut up and just listen for a minute. You can be so infuriating!” hissed Aardus. “First of
all, no vampire turned by Master Vespus would be able to attack him like you did. I have dreamt of
doing that to him for centuries, but I cannot. I am bound to him by blood.”

“But so am I. He…”

“Just listen. Something must have happened when you drank the unicorn's blood. Something
unique to you…”

“But how…how…”

“I don't know, but try and listen without speaking for a moment. There is a reason
*Shadowbreaker* was hidden with the dragon. It is a wonderful weapon, and I am glad it has
resurfaced. Master Vespus defeated its wielder long ago but couldn't destroy it. Its sole
purpose is to defeat creatures of death and darkness. Ghosts, zombies, shades, vampire mastiffs,
liches, and obviously, vampires—anything that is evil and should be dead. When the blade strikes
them, it heals the wielder of any wounds he or she has received.”

“Like the scabbard of Excalibur,” murmured Hermione.

“But this blade does not work on living flesh, as Harry and you both discovered. It was never
designed to be used against mortal foes. Instead of healing…”

“It inflicts the same wounds on both the attacked and the attacker,” finished Harry, rubbing his
stomach.

“But then that means,”

“what I have been trying to explain to you Miss Granger. For some reason, you did not turn.
Either you have an unbelievable amount of willpower or,”

“*Mistress Granger. You are different from them. You are no vampire.* *Hast thou
forgotten?”*

*“**Forgotten* *what?”*

*“Recall the words of the dying unicorn, Mistress. Remember what he told*
*thee**.”*

Hermione struggled to remember as Harry and Aardus watched her quietly. So much of what had
happened the last several days was hazy and vague, like a nightmare she would rather forget.

She recalled Vespus carrying her down the stairs and outside into the cold air and laying her
next to the suffering unicorn. And she remembered the nearly overwhelming urge to sink her teeth
into his neck and try to quench the maddening thirst torturing her throat and chest and very mind.
She thought again of how she tried to hide behind the walls she and Saldar had built and fought to
ignore the intoxicating allure of the warm blood that was so close. She looked again at the pale
blue eyes of the unicorn filled with pain. And then the words returned to her mind.

“*I am so sorry they have done this to you. It is all my fault, I wish there was something I
could do for you, something to ease your pain…”*

*“You are not to blame young maiden. You are nothing like them, I can see that.* *You are
virtuous and pure and innocent, Maiden. But t**here is nothing you can do for me now, I am
dying. But there* *may be* *something I can do for you. Drink. Drink of my
blood.”*

*“Noo! I can't! I won't! I don't want to become a vampire**!* *I'll
fight it!**”*

*“Maiden, you mus**t drink**. Even as strong as you are, the bloodlust almost
consumes you, even I can see that. Please, drink my blood.”*

*“But I'll be cursed. Everyone knows that whatever drinks the blood of a unicorn will live
a cursed life.”*

*“A v**ampire's life is a cursed life M**aiden. But the blood of a unicorn only
damns those who take it by force. I c**hoose to give you my lifeblood M**aiden* *of
my own free will**, and I pray that it may help you* *overcome the blood* *curse of
the vampire**.”*

She remembered that the pounding in her ears and the pain in her chest had eased when she made
her choice. She lifted her bloody hand to her mouth and then lost consciousness. The next thing she
remembered was hearing Harry and Saldar calling to her and she barely woke up in time to help Harry
defeat the Eldor.

“The unicorn,” she whispered. “I was trying to fight the call of the blood curse and the unicorn
told me to drink. He gave me his blood freely to try and save me.”

“And he did Miss Granger. He did.”

“I still can't…”

“Do you want to drink young Potter's blood right now? Do you want to drink your own?”

Horrified, Hermione shook her head and said “NO!”

“Can you not hear the pounding of the blood in his heart, in his arteries? Can you not smell the
scent of fresh blood spilt in the chamber?

“Yes,” admitted Hermoine.

“And do you not want to bite and drink and…”

“NOOO! Part of me did when I saw the unicorn but I tried to resist. But not now…” answered
Hermione.

“Are you sure? The taste, the power…”

“Shut up!” roared Hermione. “I have no desire to drink Harry's blood! Or anyone
else's!”

“Then you are not a vampire. I heard Master Vespus tell you of the blood curse. It is something
that haunts us every minute of every hour of every day of our existence. We are never free of
it.”

“But how do you resist?” asked Harry.

“I am not fully able to resist it,” whispered Aardus as he lowered his eyes to the floor. “But I
do my best to avoid innocent victims. I try to kill only the guilty or evil.”

“Like those thieves in Greece. Or the wanna be vamps in Britain.”

“Yes,” admitted Aardus.

Hermione looked at him sadly and said nothing more of the unicorn.

“If I'm not a vampire, then what am I? I'm no longer human…Harry…”

“Don't even think about trying to push me away Mione. We're in this together, no matter
what. You were willing to stay by me after Voldemort's defeat. I will never abandon you.”
Holding up his right hand so that she could see the faint scar across the palm, he continued. “I
have sworn to be your protector and defender, and to do all I can to give you joy and happiness. I
have pledged everything I am to your service. Even if I hadn't, I would still stay by your side
Mione. I love you and always will.”

“But…”

“No buts, Mione. You have always stood by me, no matter how tough or dangerous. I will do no
less for you. Don't you understand that I love you—no matter what?”

Tears were falling down Hermione's cheeks as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around
Harry and hugged him tightly. “Thank you Harry. I love you too.”

“HARRY!” All three looked up at the shout. Harry glanced at Hermione for a moment.

“*I'll stay in here with Aardus while you explain what happened Harry. I…I don't
want* *to see anyone else right now.* *Not yet.”*

*“Mione.”*

*“NOOO! Just go!”*

Harry nodded sadly and left the two in the room. As he left, Hermione kneeled by Aardus and
started bandaging his wounds.

“Harry! You're OK! What happened to you?! What happened in here?! Did you find Hermione—is
she alright?” shouted Ron as he and his brothers ran through the room.

Harry stepped towards the three Weasleys and the dwarf. “Hermione is resting, but first things
first. We need to finish staking the rest of these vampires. I'll make the stakes, you guys
pound them in. Uhh, how did you guys get here?”

“Long story,” replied Fred.

“We'll tell you while we're staking,” added George.

Harry nodded and pulled out four mallets from his pouch and tossed them to the Weasleys and
Fribig and then began reforming wood splinters from the exploded tree into large stakes for them.
Harry stabbed several of the more active vampires with *Shadowbreaker* in order for one of the
others to more easily stake them.

Fifteen minutes later, Fred asked, “Blimey Harry, how many vampires did you beat today?”

“This has to be some kind of record,” added George.

“That's Harry for you, taking all the fun for himself,” joked Ron. “You didn't leave any
vampires somewhere else in the castle for us to stake, did you?”

Harry looked sharply at him and then sighed. “No. These are all the vampires we stake
today.”

The four whirled towards the main doors as they heard more quiet footsteps approaching. Samuel
and Remus stepped through quickly, taking in the scene in a glance. Snape, Hagrid, Malfoy, the
other Weasleys, Luna and the three Aurors came in right behind them. All of them had torn and
bloody clothing and looked a little tired.

“What kept you?” quipped Fred.

“You guys were only a mile or so from the castle when we left,” added George.

“We ran into a few defenders in the part of the castle we entered,” sneered Snape. “For some
reason, Hunt thought it best to come through the front doors.”

Harry appeared from behind the group, holding out *Shadowbreaker.* “Here, take turns
stabbing one of the dying vampires with this. It will help you feel better, in more ways than
one.”

Harry handed the sword to Ginny and everyone watched in awe as her wounds were healed. Looking
at the twins and Ron and the dwarf he added, “You four finish staking the rest. You can listen
while I explain what happened.”

“Where is Hermione? Is she OK? Did you find her?” asked Remus, Ginny, Luna, and Hagrid.

“She's resting for a bit. It's been a rough week for her.” Harry then recapped his
adventures up through the battle with the vampires, but not to the final fight with Corlyn and
Hermione.

“Simply amazing,” muttered Remus in amazement. “An exploding tree—who would have thought?”

Samuel and Snape looked around in awe as well, while the others simply looked around in
disbelief.

“But what about Hermione?” asked Remus again.

“I'm getting to that. The thing is…”

“I'm over here,” announced a clear voice from the other end of the room. Everyone looked up
as a dark figure emerged from the heavy shadows at the far side of the room behind a raised
dais.

As she stepped closer to the group, she paused in front of a large beam of sunlight that was now
pouring over the hills through one of the large windows where one of the heavy curtains had fallen
during the battle. She stretched out her hand slowly, tentatively, and then her arm broke into the
light. When nothing happened she stepped forward fully into the light.

Hermione stood before them, but there was much more to her than they had ever seen before. She
radiated power and beauty, it seemed to flow from her in waves. Her skin was still pale, but seemed
more like silver ivory, strong and healthy rather than weak and sickly. Harry and the others saw
the silver streak in her brown hair, several locks curling down the side of her face. And then the
others noticed with surprise something Harry had already seen—Hermione's eyes. They were no
longer the deep rich chocolate brown with golden flecks. Her eyes were now a bright blue and they
seemed to sparkle with flashes of silver.

Ron started apologizing and then asked the obvious question, as only he could. “I'm so sorry
I wasn't there for you—I swear it will never happen again, I…What on earth happened to you
Hermione? Are you…are you OK?”

She turned to look at him and replied. “I think so—I don't know yet. I don't even know
what I am anymore. I'm not human, I'm not a vampire…I…I don't know what I am.” Luna and
Ginny ran forward and threw their arms around her. After a moment came Hermione's clear voice
again. “I'm tired, I want to go home. Please take me home Harry.”

Harry looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, as if listening to something only he could hear
and nodded. He pulled a coin from his pouch and whispered softly, “*Portus.* I'll send the
three of you home now. The rest of us will finish cleaning up here and be there shortly.” Harry
handed the coin to Hermione and the other two girls touched it as it lay in her open palm. Hermione
whispered “Home,” and the three girls disappeared from sight.

Harry turned back towards the group, his eyes flashing. “Is everybody healed then? Good, go back
downstairs with Fribig. I'll meet you in the courtyard in a few minutes.”

“Harry,” started Remus and Ron but stopped at the cold glance Harry gave them.

Charlie and Bill led the others out behind Fribig, with Samuel and Lupin bringing up the
rear.

Harry walked back to the room where Aardus lay quietly. “Is there anything I can do for
you?”

“You can finish me off with that nasty little sword you have,” he whispered.

“There is no need to do…”

“No need?” he hissed angrily. “As soon as Vespus regains his power and takes another body, I
will become his slave again. You must destroy me before I become dangerous to you or Miss Granger
again. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have, but I may not have a choice. And
Vespus will come back, I guarantee it.”

“Hermione needs your help. Now more than ever.”

“What? How can I…”

“You are a vampire. She has vampirelike powers, but no idea how to use them. She wants you to
show her how to control them so that she doesn't hurt anyone or…”

“I can't. I can't take the risk that I might hurt anyone else. Please, just destroy
me.”

“NOOO! She needs you. And I need you to help her. Please, Aardus, please help her just once
more. You can stay in the Forest and I'll get the potions you need to control your blood lust.
Please, Aardus.”

“Very well.”

“Thank you. I'll make a portkey for you that will take you to a large cave I know about deep
in the forest. You'll be safe there. Do you have any idea where Vespus might go to hide and
recuperate?”

“I know of several of his sanctuaries, but I am sure he has several more that I don't know
of. He never really trusted me, you know.”

“Well, we can check those places and make sure that he's not using them, and that he'll
never use them again, but that will have to be later. Now go. I will stop by later today.”

Several minutes later, Harry was alone again in the top of the Iron Tower. He looked out in the
courtyard and saw his friends standing in the cool air, looking up anxiously at the Tower.
Satisfied that none of the vampires were moving, he moved back towards the room where he had found
Hermione.

He focused for a moment on the fear and pain he had felt when he first found her and let it
build within him. He then added all of his frustrations and anger he had experienced during the
long search for her. He then let his rage explode with the anguish he felt at what had been done to
her and his inability to save her. There was a whooshing of air that whipped his hair as the
leaping flames in the room sucked in the air from the outside chamber. Harry threw his hands in the
air and tilted back his head and roared with all of the pain and hurt and fear he had seen and felt
in Hermione since he had found her. The roof was blown into the sky and Harry could feel the Tower
begin to tremble. For a moment, he exulted in the savagery of the energy he was unleashing and the
sheer recklessness and power of the destruction he was directing. He then disappeared from the
flaming inferno and reappeared in front of his friends in the courtyard. His eyes continued to burn
ferociously as the entire tower shook as the flames spread downward burning everything flammable
and the stones began thundering down on top of each other. After a few minutes, the entire tower
collapsed in on itself as Harry watched with tremendous satisfaction.

Harry turned and in surprise noticed that Snape, Samuel, and Remus had erected a magical barrier
to protect them and the others from the heat and flaming fragments of the tower.

“Uhhh, I'm sorry about that. I didn't think about…” began Harry earnestly.

Lupin simply raised his hand. “Just remember next time that we don't all have the remarkable
defenses of an elemental mage.”

Harry then turned to Fribig. “Thank you again for all of your help. And thank your father for me
as well.”

“Harry Potter. Thank you for everything you have done for my people. I am forever in your debt.
If there is anything my father or I could ever do to repay the debt in part, please let us know.”
He then bowed and marched away from the smoldering ruin of the tower through the collapsed walls of
the castle.

“I don't know about you Potter, but I could use some warm food and a soft bed,” added Samuel
as he picked up a large branch from the ground. “*Portus.*” Everyone grabbed hold and
disappeared when Samuel said “Hogwarts.”

-->



38. Home Again
--------------



Ch 38 Home Again

“We need to do something else Albus. She can't just isolate herself like this, it's not
good for her. There must be something else we can do for her…”

“We cannot force her to come back to Hogwarts if she does not wish to Minerva.”

“We've spoken with her several times,” added Mrs. Granger. “She says she can feel the fear
of the students around her…”

“And those horrid articles in the papers,” chipped in Mrs. Weasley. “Even *The Quibbler*
has gone out of its way to put her in the worst possible light.”

“I assure you, we're looking at every legal angle we can to prevent more of those types of
articles from coming out, but I'm afraid the damage has already been done,” sighed Mr.
Weasley.

“What if Harry and I took her on one of our vampire sanctuary raids?” suggested Samuel.
“We've been enjoying them thoroughly. She could work out a little frustration and…”

“I do not believe that would prove particularly beneficial to someone like Hermione right now
Samuel. She is trying to prevent and avoid any outbreaks of anger and violence, she is trying to
distance herself from the very things the papers have been threatening will happen if she begins
classes. She is trying to prove to herself that her worst fears, and those of many of her
classmates and their parents, are not true—that she is not a bloodthirsty monster.”

“But she's not!” protested Remus.

“I believe that we are all in agreement about that. But the truth is, we have no idea exactly
what Miss Granger *is* right now.”

Tempers flared again in Dumbledore's office until Dumbledore regained control.

“I happen to agree with Professor Snape, but wait…wait…” explained Dumbledore, trying to prevent
any more angry outbursts, “but I believe it is the uncertainty about Miss Granger's status that
is causing so much fear and concern.”

“So what do we do?” asked McGonagall.

“Well, we will never change the opinions of the vast majority of witches and wizards, nor would
it matter much if we could. The only one who must really be convinced about her identity is Miss
Granger herself. And I believe the best way to accomplish that is to continue with the approach we
have taken—visit with her when she allows it, be there for her and support her in whatever
decisions she makes. If she chooses not to return to Hogwarts, that is her choice and I will accept
it. That does not mean she cannot complete her classes on her own if she wishes—I believe that
would be acceptable, if her professors do not mind. However, I do not believe we should try and
persuade her to take any course of action *we* think might help her, but support her in
whatever choice *she* makes for herself.”

McGonagall rose from her seat. “Well, I have no problem letting Miss Granger finish her
coursework in Transfiguration at home if she wishes. And I correct in assuming Miss Granger may
continue her DADA studies at home Severus?” she asked sweetly as the eyes of everyone turned
towards the professor.

Snape's eyes flashed for a moment before he said softly. “Of course Minerva.”

“Thank you. I will go check with her other professors about sending her classwork to her with
one of her classmates.”

“What about Harry and Ron and her other friends? How are they doing?” asked Mrs. Granger.

“Fortunately, she has not tried to isolate herself from them. I have given them permission to
visit her at Harry's house in the afternoons after their classes are done. Mr. Malfoy, Miss
Lovegood, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley have all taken up the additional duties that Miss Granger
would normally be fulfilling as Head Girl. I heard there were a few complaints from some of the
other prefects about having to do extra rounds, but I believe Mr. Weasley had a word or two with
them about it. I have heard no complaints since then, though a few students have complained that he
is even stricter than Miss Granger was about enforcing some of the rules.” Dumbledore chuckled and
then asked. “Is there anything else?”

The Weasleys left with the Grangers and the other faculty members followed them out.

As McGonagall stood to leave, Albus asked softly. “How is Remus doing?”

McGonagall laughed. “Remus hardly needs my guidance in attempting the Animagus transformation.
He was one of the best students I ever had and Miss Granger has kindly lent him her entire
collection of books on the subject—which is more comprehensive than that of our own library I might
add. Assuming the theory is correct, he should be ready to try it in three months—he's being
very thorough and taking it slow—unlike some other students we know.”

Dumbledore chuckled happily. McGonagall stayed in her seat, watching Dumbledore patiently but
saying nothing more.

“No, Minerva, I have not spoken to him yet.”

“I can understand why you didn't while Miss Granger was still missing, but there is no
reason to put it off any longer Albus. He deserves to know.”

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “I know, I know. And I will tell him…I just haven't found the
right opportunity…”

“There is no *right* opportunity for something like this Albus,” snorted McGonagall. “But
the sooner, the better—or I'll tell him…”

“Please, Minerva. Let me do this. I will tell him.”

“Fine, but the longer you wait, the harder it will be. And the longer you wait, the angrier he
will be when he discovers you've kept it from him.”

Dumbledore said nothing as McGonagall stood up and left.

*-*-*

“So how did it go today with Aardus?” asked Harry as he visited with Hermione several days
later.

“It went fine. I understand exactly how he does everything he does as a vampire, but for some
reason, it doesn't work for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, vampires can't exactly Apparate like wizards, but they can use shadows to travel. As
long as there are shadows in the room, they can disappear and reappear at will.”

“Uh-huh. What's the problem?”

“I can't *S**hadow* *W**alk* like that.”

“Oh.”

“But I can travel if there's a source of light.”

“What's the difference? If there are shadows, doesn't that imply there is a light
somewhere?”

“Well, yes. But it's a completely different skill. For example, I can do it in daylight.
Aardus can't. He can only move in shadows created by other light sources—candles or lanterns or
street lights for example. More importantly, I move in the light, not in the dark. Symbolically,
that's important to me.”

“Well, that's good then,” grinned Harry, happy to see Hermione smile. The first skill she
had learned from Aardus was how to control the almost hypnotic veela effect she seemed to have on
people, she felt very uncomfortable with it. Every time Harry visited her, she seemed like the old
Hermione he knew, except for the bright blue eyes and the silver lock in her hair. Of course he
thought she was still beautiful, but she had learned to control its effects, like with an
anti-Glamour potion. Training sessions with Saldar had become very interesting, since now Hermione
was much faster and stronger than Harry. For the first few mornings, Harry had wished that she
could hide those powers as well, but Hermione didn't seem to mind winning most of their sword
duels.

“What are you grinning at?” she asked.

“Nothing, just thinking about the last time I disarmed you.”

“Harry. That was over two weeks ago and you distracted me with that fake limp. Besides, I've
beaten you dozens of times since then.”

“Yes, well, sometimes it's the small pleasures that are the most enjoyable. Anyways, I
brought you a surprise this afternoon.”

“Really? What is it?”

“It's a list of homework assignments from all of your professors.”

“Really?! Oh, let me see!”

Harry smiled again as he pulled out the thick scroll. “I should warn you, it's pretty long.
And I think Snape made up a few extra things just for you—I don't remember covering them in
class. Dumbledore said you could finish your classes here at the house if you want to, they're
going to stop trying to pressure you to go back to school.”

“Oh, thank you Harry!” she shouted and threw her arms around him tightly.

“Thank you so much, Harry. You've been the only one who really understands what I've
been going through. They all think I'm running away or hiding from what happened. But I have to
make sure I'm in complete control before I go back. I have to know that no matter what has
happened to me, that *I* am in control and that I won't hurt anybody.”

“That's good to hear Mione. You just take your time and when you're ready…”

“Thank you Harry. Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Umm, no. I don't think so.”

“Well then, come here.” Apparently, judging by the kiss she gave him, she loved him quite a
bit.

*-*-*

Luna and Ginny walked along the hall chatting and laughing. Ginny pulled up a parchment and
glanced at it as they reached the stairs heading back down. As her eyes surveyed the map, she
sighed happily. “Well, at least there's nobody on the Astronomy Tower tonight. I hate climbing
up those stairs at night…”

“unless it's with Neville?” teased Luna.

Gin smiled. “That would be nice, but Neville is a perfect gentleman.”

Luna laughed. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“I sometimes think he's afraid I'm going to break into a million pieces if he gives me a
real kiss instead of one of his goodnight pecks on the cheek,” lamented Ginny. “So, do you and Ron
get out often?” she asked with a glint in her eye.

“Well, your brother is learning to be a gentleman. He's had very good role models in Harry
and Neville, but he's picked up a few bad habits that some of his past girlfriends have
encouraged. He's trying very hard to get rid of them now…”

Ginny laughed out loud. “*You* should be in Slytherin. No snog sessions until he shapes up,
huh?”

“That's a very crude way of putting it Ginny. I prefer the term `character refinement
through sensitivity training and behavior modification with positive reinforcement,'” explained
Luna.

Ginny laughed again, harder this time. “Call it what you want but it still sounds like…”

“What is he doing here?” hissed Luna, pointing at the Marauders' Map in Ginny's
hand.

Ginny looked down and saw a bunch of figures in Dumbledore's office. The five figures seemed
to be in a semi-circle around Dumbledore, but Ginny was unsure which figure Luna meant. When she
looked up again from the map, Luna was halfway down the hall headed towards Dumbledore's office
at a run.

“Who?”

“Pidi! He may know what happened to my mum!”

Ginny sprinted after the Ravenclaw, but couldn't catch her until they reached the stone
gargoyle. Luna started calling out all the different types of candy she could think of, but none of
them were the correct password. She kicked the statue in frustration and yelled a few words Ginny
was sure she'd never heard from the Ravenclaw prefect.

Realizing how desperate Luna was to get in to Dumbledore's office, Ginny reached into her
pocket and pulled out her DA coin. She rubbed it and whispered “Harry.”

*-*-*

Harry and Hermione were in his huge library studying when Harry felt his DA coin warm up in his
pocket. He had modified some of the charms on all of the DA coins to try and prevent another attack
like the one which had resulted in the kidnapping of Hermione and the other students right before
Christmas.

Looking at the coin, he saw that it was Ginny that needed help. He stood quickly and Hermione
glanced over at him.

“What's wrong Harry?”

“Ginny's in trouble, I've got to go….”

“I'm coming with you,”

*“Are you sure?”*

*“Yes.”*

“Come on then.” He grabbed her shoulder and they disappeared together.

*-*-*

Luna was holding her foot and still yelling at the stone gargoyle when Harry and Hermione
appeared out of thin air.

They lowered their swords and wands and looked at Ginny curiously as Luna's head snapped
around.

“We thought you were in danger, Gin. What's going on?” asked Harry.

“We need to get into Dumbledore's office, there's someone there…”

“He might know who killed my mum! I've got to talk to him!” screamed Luna.

Harry glanced at Hermione and reached out for the two girls. A moment later, all four appeared
in the middle of Dumbledore's study.

*-*-*

“She is a danger to more than this school, Dumbledore. She is a threat to the entire wizarding
world. You must let us deal with her…”

“Miss Granger is a student at my school and under my protection,” stated Dumbledore firmly, his
eyes blazing. “and I guarantee that she is not a threat to either the students of this school or
the world at large. She is…”

“She is the new Dark Queen Dumbledore! You have no idea what kind of creature you are dealing
with! She will destroy us all! It has been prophesied!”

“Most prophecies aren't worth the parchment they're written on,” spat out Harry from
behind the group of robed and masked wizards. “And the last imbecile that believed in the one
you're blabbing about turned out to be your fearless leader Primus. It also turned out that he
happened to be a power mad vampire bent on the destruction of the world, but I guess he kept that
little goal pretty well hidden from the rest of you morons.”

One of the robed figures turned and paused in shock at the sight of the four angry students
staring back at them. “How? What? Dumbledore! What is the meaning of this? What are these children
doing here?”

“I told you that it was highly irregular to meet somewhere besides our normal room and without
notifying me first. I do have considerable protections in place on my private chambers, but Mr.
Potter is an exceptional mage after all. As for why they are here, you will have to ask them.”

Luna was staring intently at the wizard who had been yelling at Dumbledore earlier. “Daddy? Is
that you?”

The wizard known to the council as Quintus took a step back and raised his hands. “Luna, you
don't understand. I…”

“You're right! I don't understand! What is going on here!? What happened to Pidi? He was
here just a moment ago on the map. Where did he go? And why are you here? AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO
MUM!?!?!” Angrily, she raised her wand and pointed it at the robed figure.

Gin glanced down again at the map. “There's no Lovegood on this map, just Pidi and a bunch
of other…”

“That's not a wizard—it's a house elf,” snarled Hermione, raising her wand and sword.
“And we've met before, *Pidi.* In France, in Egypt, and again today. Harry, NOOO!”

Harry had disappeared behind the startled wizard and raised *Shadowbreaker* high as
Hermione shouted. He then brought the hilt crashing down on the base of the skull and the wizard
collapsed to the ground unconscious. Harry stepped closer to examine the body when several of the
robed wizards raised their wands as well.

“You have struck down a member of the Council!” exclaimed one.

Crouching down with his wand and sword held at the ready Harry replied coldly. “You want to be
next?” The speaker suddenly noticed that not only was Harry ready to fight, but so were the other
three students, Dumbledore and one of the witches on the Council. He and his two companions were
outnumbered six to three and two of the six were the most powerful wizards in the world, and nobody
had any idea how powerful the young vampire witch was now. He slowly lowered his wand, followed by
his companions.

“What is going on here?” asked Luna.

“Who is Pidi?” asked Hermione.

“He…he was our house elf. My father dismissed him after my mother's death—I don't know
why. But that…that sounded like my father. I could have swore…”

Harry reached down, rolled the unconscious body over, and pulled off the mask over the protests
of several members of the Council.

Luna fell to the floor. “Daddy! What…what happened to my daddy?! I thought he killed my
mum?”

“That is what we thought we saw in your memories, Luna. But I think what we saw and heard was
your dad getting attacked by your house elf.”

“But that's impossible,” snorted one of the members. “House elves cannot kill wizards. They
cannot even harm them. They live only to serve and…”

“This elf can. He's attacked us several times, though he can't kill us directly. Believe
me when I tell you he's tried a variety of means to kill us. Luna, I think your father was
trying to persuade your mother to brew a Veritaserum to use on Pidi. Your father thought he was
hiding something and wanted to know what it was. I think Pidi cast a spell at the cauldron, perhaps
not knowing the possible effects, and accidentally killed your mother. But I don't know what
happened to your father, we'll have to ask him when he wakes up.”

“I don't think that's such a good idea, Mione,” replied Harry. “If we let him wake up,
he's just going to escape and…”

“Well, we can't just kill him, no matter what he's…”

“I thought we'd ask the Council here if they've got any bright ideas. They're the
experts right?”

“There is no need to restrain a house elf. They are unable to harm a…”

“Yeah, yeah. You already said that. If you'd like to see the scars I have from this house
elf who can't harm wizards, I've got ten minutes to spare. We've got to find a way to
counteract his magic before he wakes up and…”

“Go get Dobby Harry.”

“What? Oh.Yeah. I'll be right back.”

A few moments later Harry reappeared with a very nervous looking Dobby at his side.

“We need you to make sure that he doesn't escape or try to hurt anyone when he wakes…”

“Is this the one who tried to harm you and Mistress Granger?” asked Dobby.

“Uh, yeah,' replied Harry.

Suddenly Dobby's eyes flashed and his hand swept forward. The prone wizard was flung against
the side of Dumbledore's wall with such force that several shelves fell from the wall with
their objects. Metal cuffs appeared around his wrists and ankles, anchored securely to the wall and
a light buzzing was heard as a shimmering field appeared around the elf, who no longer appeared in
the form of a robed wizard.

“Pidi!” cried out Luna. “It is you! What have you done?”

The elf's head moved slowly as he tried to raise it.

Harry and Hermione stepped closer with their wands raised.

“He will not harm anyone again,” assured Dobby.

“Mistress Luna, I…I am so sorry for everything that has happened. I…I never meant for anything
to happen to your mother. But I couldn't let your father find out. Nobody must know about…”

“What? What is so important that my mother had to die?!” screamed Luna.

He raised his eyes and glared angrily at Hermione. “Her. I have been telling you all for years.
The Dark Queen must not be allowed to destroy the world.”

“I am not the Dark Queen,” insisted Hermione quietly. “I am…”

“You are no longer human! You are not even mortal. You are death reborn and…”

His voice stopped abruptly when Hermione grabbed his throat in one of her powerful hands and
squeezed. Nobody had even see her move.

“Go ahead. Destroy me and reveal to them your true nature.”

*“Mione.”*

“Miss Granger.”

“Where is Luna's father? Have you found one of the portals? Where is it?”

“I'll never tell you! I'll die first!”

“Tell me,” she insisted and squeezed harder.

His face turning blue, Hermione released him and he started coughing and sputtering as he drew
in several ragged breaths.

She turned towards Luna. “Your father is alive, but very sick and weak. He's hidden in a
secret room of the basement at your house.”

“What was that about portals?” asked one of the members of the council.

Hermione turned to him in surprise. “How long has your council studied Atlantis? You have never
heard of the portals? And you can't even recognize an Athlantean or one of their descendents
when you meet one?” Hermione snorted in disgust. “Then again, you couldn't spot a vampire or a
house elf among your own members, so I shouldn't be too surprised.”

“An Athlantean?” asked Harry.

“I know, it took me forever to figure out. I should have realized that it was no coincidence
that the guardians of the Athlanti portals attacked us as well as the Ashanti while we were…abroad.
Pidi here wanted to make sure that we either never found the…information we were looking for or
that we didn't survive long enough afterwards to use what we learned. And with both house elves
in the room, I suddenly remembered which group of magical creatures we had visited that think like
the Athlanti.”

Several of the council members looked as if they were going to say something, but wisely kept
their mouths shut when she glared at them again. “As far as Pidi, I suggest that you allow Dobby
and Professor Dumbledore to `deal with him.' He is still dangerous, but it's not
intentional. I'm afraid that his obsession with protecting the secrets of Atlantis have driven
him quite insane. Maybe the healers at St Mungos can help him. I would certainly suggest trying
that rather than simply killing him. Which reminds me, what do the rest of you propose to do about
me?”

Though she appeared quite calm, her eyes flashed dangerously as they moved over the different
members of the council. Harry quietly stepped beside her and heard Dumbledore step on her other
side.

“*Thanks for the offer, but I can take care of myself.”*

*“I know. I just didn't want them all feeling bad when they got whipped by one little
witch. If they get beat by all three of us, their feelings won't get hurt as bad,”*
explained Harry.

Hermione did a good job of keeping the smile off of her face.

The one known as Secondus cleared his throat and said, “I move that we allow Septimus to
continue handling this situation. I believe he has it under control. All in favor?”

Everyone's hand rose.

“Well, then. I believe we will take our leave.” One by one, they all left. The fourth one, the
only one who had stood with them earlier, paused in front of Harry and then pulled back her hooded
mask. She then gave him a huge hug. “I am so glad you found her, my young padwi,” she whispered and
then stepped closer to Hermione while Harry stood and watched in shock. She wrapped up Hermione in
a tight embrace as well and whispered, “You are even more beautiful than I envisioned, my young
roweni.” Then her eyes twinkled as she continued, looking at Hermione's shining silver eyes,
“Take good care of my young padwi, I believe he is worth all the trouble, though he has a very hard
time avoiding it himself. I am afraid he will always need someone like you to watch over him—as you
doubtless know already.” Laughing, she turned towards Dumbledore and bowed. “Don't be a
stranger, my friendly old gurgpa. You may stop in for tea anytime. Goodbye and good luck.” Then
she, like the others before her, touched the inkwell on the corner of Dumbledore's desk and
disappeared.

Only the four students, Dumbledore, and the two elves were left in the room.

“Did you learn where one of the portals is located?” asked Harry.

“No, I don't think he knows. And even if he did, it could take me years of searching through
his brain to find it. He's pretty messed up from what I could see inside that little head of
his.”

“But how did…

“Part of him wanted us to find Luna's father. He feels very guilty about what happened to
her parents. But he definitely does not want us finding Atlantis.”

“So you guys have been looking for Atlantis?” asked Ginny, her eyes wide in shock with
everything she had seen.

“Yes, but nobody else can know Ginny. Luna.”

“Who would believe me if I told them?” joked Luna.

“Don't worry. I'm a Weasley. Nobody can keep a secret like…”

“Ron isn't very good at keeping secrets,” said Harry.

“Well, he's an exception. I take after the twins.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “If you could assist me for the rest of the night, Dobby, I will speak with
Arthur and see if we can arrange some help for Pidi.”

Dobby bowed. “Dobby is glad to be of some service.”

“Oh and Dobby? We'll need to talk again,” added Hermione.

“I'm sorry Mistress, but I cannot help. I do not know where the portals are, none of the
house elves do. We don't want to know Mistress. We…we fear the prophecy. Dobby is not afraid of
Mistress, he knows she would never hurt house elves or anyone, but we fear the Dark Queen. She, and
we, almost destroyed the world once—it is better that Athlanti stay lost rather than she come back
and finish what she began so long ago. Please, Mistress, please stop looking for it.”

Hermione looked at his sad, fear filled eyes and sighed. “Thanks, Dobby. I won't bother you
again about it.” She then turned to Luna. “Did you want us to come with you to look for your
father?”

“I will take you Miss Lovegood. If you would remind me of your address, I will make a
portkey.”

“I'll go too,” volunteered Ginny.

“Thanks,” whispered Luna. “It means a lot to me to have you all there.”

Dobby stayed behind, watching Pidi, while the others left with Dumbledore.

*-*-*

Later that evening, Harry stood on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, a little ways from his house. He
seemed to be talking quietly to himself, but closer observation would reveal that he was talking
into a small cellphone.

“Can you meet me at that address then tomorrow night?”

“Good. Make it eleven thirty. The shift will change at midnight and the mediwitches on shift
will be tired and ready to go home.”

“Will it make any difference if the subject is insane? That wouldn't hurt you would it?”

“Good. I need to know if he knows anything more than what he's already told us.”

“Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow night then.”

Harry slipped the phone back in his pouch and stared at the clear sky for a moment before
teleporting back to his room at Hogwarts.

*-*-*

Several weeks later, Luna was visiting with Hermione at Harry's house.

“So how is your dad doing?”

“He's feeling a lot better, now that he's out of the house. I can't believe Pidi was
impersonating my dad for all those years—and I never realized…”

“Well, he did keep casting those memory charms on you, so…”

“I know, but still. They say it's much too soon to tell if any of the potions are helping at
St. Mungos. They've never tried treating an elf before, so they're not sure whether
they'll be able to help him much.”

“Hmmm.”

“But that's not why I came today, Hermione.”

“I know.”

“You've never missed one of Harry's matches before. It would mean…”

“I know. Ron and Ginny have already told me a dozen times. And Harry hasn't said anything,
but I know he'd love for me to be there. It's just that…I'm nervous about going where
there will be so many people.”

“You're not going to lose control. You're not a …”

“I know. I know. I just hate knowing that they will all be nervous and scared if I'm there.
Except for the Gryffindors, I can sense the unease in most of the other students, despite their
best attempts to hide it. There will be a lot of people there who have only read those nasty
articles in the papers about me. There's no sense in me ruining the match for everyone else
that will be attending.”

“I think that might be the stupidest thing you've ever told me Hermione.”

“What?” snapped Hermione.

“You're afraid to go because some people might be afraid to see you? You know you're not
going to hurt anyone. How are other people going to learn that for themselves if you keep hiding
here at Harry's house?”

“That's not what I'm doing! You don't understand.”

“I understand. You may not be hiding intentionally, but that is what you are doing. For someone
who wants so desperately to change the wizarding world, you're going about this the wrong way.
Were you able to create alliances for the war last year by worrying that people's feelings
might be hurt or hoping they would come see you? NO! You went out and confronted other groups of
magical beings. Did you lie low during Harry's trial when they were telling all those lies
about him? NO! You went out and fought for him. Did you back down on your research about Atlantis
and stay at Hogwarts when Pidi and the others were after you and Harry? NO! Do you think people are
going to learn to accept you and understand you if you hide here all the time? NO!”

“GET OUT!” snapped Hermione, rising angrily “I am not afraid…”

“Then I'll save you a seat at the match this afternoon. Don't worry, I'll let myself
out.” Then Luna stood up and walked out, neither looking back or apologizing. Hermione picked up a
large book to throw at the closing door, but then set it back down as she stared at the door
thoughtfully.

*-*-*

“And Potter once again dives past the Durmstrang seeker, again flying circles around the ogre
they found that could sit on a broomstick, maybe he”

“JORDAN!” shouted McGonagall for perhaps the fiftieth time in the last half hour. “Keep your
personal opinions to yourself and just comment on the match itself.” She was definitely going to
have a word with Dumbledore about inviting back Lee Jordan to do the commentary on the Quidditch
match with Durmstrang.

“Sorry folks, just another brilliant feint by Gryffindor's outstanding Seeker. And there
goes the prettiest Weasley to ever fly on a broom, splitting right between the two gorillas
guarding the hoops and scoring easily on the…”

“JORDAN!”

“Sorry, ma'am, my mistake. It won't happen again. And one of the twin titans from
Durmstrang takes the Quaffle, oh, the clumsy oaf drops it to our very own Ferret who quickly passes
it off to that auburn haired beauty, that gorgeous OWW!” Jordan shouted as a paper mache dragon bit
hard his ear hard. “What the?!”

McGonagall grabbed the microphone away from as he dispatched the dragon Yowler that one of the
students had sent his way. He didn't notice Neville's huge grin of satisfaction.

“I would not make any more comments about young Miss Weasley if I were you,” suggested
McGonagall, her hand covering the microphone, “or her boyfriend might send a stronger message.”

“Boyfriend? She's got a boyfriend. Damn, why didn't the twins tell me? Oh, well. Give me
back the mike, I'll be good. I promise.”

“And there goes Potter again, diving through the Durmstrang formation, sending them scattering.
Seems like the Durmstrang players are simply being outflown, outmaneuvered and…there he goes again.
Potter's Firebolt, though a few years old is still in a class of its own on this field. In this
dive, you'll be able to see it's turning ability as …

OUCH! That had to hurt.

One of the Durmstrang Beaters followed Potter a little too closely and is now eating a dirt
sandwich. You simply can't turn with a Firebolt at those speeds.

And he's still not moving. Is there a mediwizard in the house? Cause that poor troll is
going to need some new teeth. Actually, he'll probably end up looking better than…

Hey! Give me that mike back!”

Meanwhile, back on the field, Harry had spotted a glint of gold. It was a cold and clear March
day and visibility was terrific. That gave the Gryffindors several advantages. One, the blatant
fouls that were committed at Durmstrang were easily visible here. Second, it allowed the
Gryffindors to use their speed and quickness to easily outfly the larger but slower Durmstrang
players. Harry was now taking advantage of the very clear conditions to pursue the Snitch he had
spotted from the other side of the pitch.

He zigzagged through the Chasers in the middle of the pitch, causing chaos and havoc and
creating another turnover for Gryffondor to take advantage of to score on. He dodged one of the
Bludgers easily and banked hard to his left. His concentration narrowed to only the Golden Snitch
and its fluttering wings. He followed its every movement, slowly closing the distance. Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw the other Seeker flying towards him, but he was too far away—he'd
never get to the Snitch in time. Harry made one last cut back to his right and reached down to
snatch the fluttering golden ball.

He raised his hand in triumph and looked to the spot where normally she would sit before he
realized it would be empty. But it wasn't! She was there. As the roar of the crowd washed over
him, he flew to where she stood, yelling and waving her arms with excitement. Part of the
Gryffindor crowd around her quieted down a bit and moved away, allowing him some space to maneuver
his broomstick. He bent down and stroked her cheek.

“You came,” he whispered.

“Of course. I'll always be there for you Harry. No matter what,” she replied.

He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips as the crowd roared again. He lifted her up
easily and sat her in his lap, then soared off on a victory lap.

*“Mione! Let go of my ribs! I can't breath.”*

*“Just don't drop me. And slow down a bit. You've already caught the snitch.”*

Harry rolled his eyes. “*For the millionth time**, I'm not going to drop
you.”*

Wizarding cameras were going off around the stadium as finally, Harry and Hermione descended to
the pitch where they were both mobbed by the rest of the team and Hogwarts students.

Half an hour later, as the team began walking off the pitch, a little girl from the crowd broke
free from her mother's hand and ran straight for Harry and Hermione.

They looked up and saw the look of concern and fear on the mother's face and then glanced
down at the running girl.

“Miss Granger! Miss Granger! I'm so glad you're OK! My mum says you've been very
sick, it's in the papers you know. I'm so glad you look like you're feeling better!”
She then threw her arms around Hermione's waist as Harry and many others in the crowd watched.
Several more cameras caught the tender moment.

“You're my hero Miss Granger! I'm so glad you're feeling better—I was very worried
about you. When I grow up I want to be just like you! I hope I can come to Hogwarts in two years
when I turn eleven and be a prefect and a Head Girl and the best student in the school just like
you!”

The girl then stepped back, as if she had turned suddenly shy. “I…I was hoping I would get a
chance to meet you…I brought a book and I was wondering if you would sign it for me.”

Tears were running down Hermoine's face, and then a smile broke out as she read
“*Hogwart's, A History,”* on the front cover of the book.

“Would you mind?” asked the excited little girl, hopping on one foot. “It's the latest
edition, it has an extra chapter on just what you and your friends have done in the last six
years—how you figured out the puzzles guarding the Sorcerer's Stone, how you figured out what
the monster was that had attacked all those students—even though you were petrified, how you almost
captured the prisoner from Azkaban, how you helped your best friend win the Tri-Wizard tournament,
how you outwitted that awful Umbridge and started the DA club, and how you helped save Hogwarts and
defeat that evil wizard Voldemort…”

Harry and Hermione noticed most of the students and adults wince when she mentioned his name,
but she kept on going as if there was nothing to fear from the name itself. Which was as it should
be.

Her mother came up nervously and tried to pull her away from them, but Hermione stopped her and
said, “It's no problem at all. I'd be happy to sign her book, it's one of my favorites.
What's your name?”

“It's Leanda.”

Hermione transformed her wand into a quill and signed her name after writing a brief message to
Leanda inside the front cover.

“Thank you!” shouted Leanda excitedly.

“No, thank you Leanda,” whispered Hermione as she bent down and gave the little girl a huge hug.
“You have no idea what this means to me.”

Hermione stood and wiped away the tears on her cheek as Leanda and her mom walked away. Leanda
gave her a big, wave and her mother's look of fear and concern was gone from her face.

“I'm glad you came, Mione.”

“Me too, Harry. Me too.”

Harry threw his arm around her shoulders and they headed back into Hogwarts.

-->



39. The Refugee
---------------



Ch 39 The Refugee

Hermione sat comfortably at the Gryffindor table eating her cereal while Ron glared back at a
few Ravenclaws who were looking fearfully at Hermione's back as they walked as far as possible
from her on the way to their table.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, Ron, you're not going to make people stop fearing me by
glaring at them and taking away house points,” she pointed out as she reached for a glass of
juice.

“I just can't understand how stupid they can be is all, and besides, I need to…”

Hermione looked up at him and said softly. “Ron. It wasn't your fault. They could have
kidnapped me when I went to use the girls' room. Were you going to follow me there?”

“Errr…”

“Besides, we know that they waited until Harry was gone. They probably waited for you to be away
as well. You were with me all morning, right?”

“Yeah…yeah, maybe that was it. But I still shouldn't have let Draco get to me like…”

“No, you shouldn't have. But it won't happen again, will it?”

“Never! I'll never let you or Harry down again. I swear it.”

She reached across and put her hand tenderly over the broad fist which had just slammed the
table hard enough to cause more than a dozen cups to tip over and spill. “I know Ron. I know.”

“Hey Granger, hands off my man,” teased Luna as she sat down next to Ron. “Where's
Harry?”

Hermione smiled broadly. “He's down training a bit longer with Saldar. He really hates it
when I beat him at fencing.”

“When was the last time he won?” asked Ron.

“Let me think for a minute…”

Ron started laughing. “If you can't remember it must have been a while.”

“Hey! What's so funny?” asked Harry as he stepped behind Hermione, kissed her cheek lightly
and sat down next to her and pulled several plates of food towards him.

“Nothing,” choked out Ron. “Nothing at all.”

Harry looked confused for a moment, then turned with the rest of them to look at the approaching
owls bringing mail.

Hermione buried her head in the *Daily Prophet* while Luna and Ginny examined closely the
latest issue of the *Quibbler.*

Ron looked over at Luna proudly, and then glanced at Harry. “Did you know that *Quibbler*
sales have doubled in the past two months?”

“No, really?”

“Yep. When Luna turned seventeen ten weeks ago, her father turned over editorial decisions to
her.”

“Ronald, that's not why…”

“You don't need to be modest about it Luna. You've done a fantastic job with the paper.
And that reporter you have, Raiveys, he's one of the most popular writers around right now. And
you're the one who found him and…”

“Yes, I've had a lot of help, Ron…”

Harry just grinned at Ron, glad to see him so proud of someone else's accomplishments. He
missed the quick shared smirk of Ginny and Hermione.

Hermione turned back to her paper and then stopped. “*Another Obliviator Has Lost Her Way
Home.* Jaana Ehrlich, a retired Obliviator, was declared missing yesterday when she didn't
show up for her retirement party last week. Concerned friends searched her house but found no trace
of her. There appears to be no reason to suspect foul play or Dark Magic, but this is the third
Obliviator to be go missing in the last two months. German investigators are baffled and there are
no solid leads at the moment, though one source speculated that there could be a connection with
the other missing Obliviators from Croatia and Norway. Those investigations remain open as well,
and...”

“She probably didn't want a cheap watch and went on vacation early so nobody would bother
her,” offered Ron.

“Maybe one, but three?” asked Hermione.

“Why would someone want to kidnap or kill a bunch of old Obliviators?” asked Ron.

“I don't know, but the last time wizards started disappearing, I ended up in a graveyard
with Moldie and his sidekicks,” observed Harry ominously.

Breakfast was fairly subdued after that.

*-*-*

It was a beautiful spring afternoon, thought Harry. Warm and bright with a light breeze and a
beautiful blue sky. Perfect for flying…and then the claws of the ridgeback drumenthal tightened
around his sleeve and dug into his forearm.

“Keep `er steady jus another moment, Harry. She's more nervous than you are, I'd
wager.”

At that point, Harry could have cared less how nervous the ugly creature felt. It looked like
some sort of cross between a black crow and a lizard. While the body and head were reptilian, the
wings were jet black.

“Now give the poor thing another bite of that chicken leg, Neville. The skinny little thing
looks half starved.”

The drumenthal snatched the leg out of Neville's fingers and snapped the bone in half. It
tightened its claws just before it leaped to the ground to pick up the scraps that had fallen as
Neville quickly counted his fingers and Harry clapped a hand to his bleeding forearm.

Hermione walked over and swished her wand over his forearm. His arm tingled for a moment and
then felt much better.

“*Thanks. I knew I should have gone to History of Magic class today. Why does Hagrid always
pick me to work with the dangerous animals?”*

*“Because you're his favorite Harry. That's just his way of showing how much he
cares.”*

*“Well, maybe he could find a less painful way of showing…”*

*“I suppose I could tell him how much you enjoy his treacle…”* smiled Hermione.

*“OK, OK, you win. I'm done complaining.”*

As they turned to watch the drumenthal noisily crunch the bones of the remaining chicken parts,
they both noticed a slight movement at the edge of the forest. With a quick glance towards each
other, they both disappeared and reappeared near the hidden creature, one on either side.

Behind the bush where they had spotted the movement there was nothing. They spun and saw a wild
elf step silently towards them, his hands spread wide and empty. Though they shared the large, odd
looking eyes with their racial cousins, the house-elves, there the similarity ended. While the
house-elves often looked miserable and pathetic, weak and twisted into pitiful looking creatures,
there was nothing weak or beaten in the demeanor of a wild elf. Their lean, thin bodies testified
of their rough existence, and the long bow and quiver slung over one shoulder with the short sword
at their side indicated they served no one.

Bowing slightly to Harry, he spoke quietly, apparently unsurprised at their abrupt appearance.
“Elf-friend, I need to speak with you.”

Harry glanced at Hermione and replied “Follow me,” as he led them both into the Forbidden
Forest.

A few minutes later, Harry stopped in a small clearing and raised several protective wards. “How
can we help?”

The wild elf glanced around quickly and then spoke. “I am Vinheld, of the Maithi tribe.
Unfortunately, I am also one of the last of my tribe now.”

“What?!” exclaimed Hermione. “What happened?”

“The nightstalkers came while I was away from our village with two of my friends. When we
returned we found all of the younger elves, both male and female, left dead. The oldest and wisest
of our tribe were gone—where, I do not know. Finwiss and Krelin, my two friends, are spreading the
news to the other villages of wild elves to warn them. We have heard of the Elf-friend who speaks
with the wild elves of Wavlonde and invited them to help destroy many of their enemies in the great
war last spring. I came to ask your help in fighting this new enemy that has annihilated my people.
On my journey here, I learned that our village is not the only one to have been wiped out by the
accursed nightstalkers.”

“By nightstalkers, do you mean…” started Harry.

“Vampires,” finished Hermione, her eyes flashing dangerously. “We will help. I need you to sit
down and concentrate for a moment, think about all of the villages you know and where they are
located. That's it. Good. Is there anything we else we can do for you? Are you hungry or
thirsty or…”

“I just want vengeance for my slain people,” stated the elf simply, in a cold voice.

“What can you tell us of Athlanti?”

“Athlanti? That is nothing but a myth!” spat the elf with contempt. “Silly stories told by the
damned house-elves bragging of their past glory. Fables of how they used to wield powerful magic
and ruled the world. Bah! We wild elves have no use nor need for such childish stories.”

Hermione pressed the issue. “Who among your people tells the stories of the house elves? Do the
older ones of the tribes tell the stories?”

The elf nodded. “There is one in every tribe known as the Myth Keeper. He or she knows all the
old stories and tells them to the young elves. But they are just that—stories. They are mostly
stories about the stupid, greedy, foolish house-elves and their fall from power. There are also
stories about great elven heroes of the past, elves who fought with their wits and their weapons,
not the mindless babbling and finger twitching of the house-elves, who try to imitate the magic of
humans. But nobody really believes in these stories, they are used to teach us to avoid becoming
weak and degenerate like the house-elves, they tell us to trust in ourselves and our own strength
and skill, not magic. Umm, no offense.”

Harry grinned. “None taken.”

“Thank you Vinheld. We will do what we can to warn the other elven villages and find the
vampires responsible.”

The elf nodded quickly and then turned to leave. “Thank you.” In the blink of an eye, he had
disappeared into the forest.

“I guess now we know why the Obliviators are being taken,” said Harry. “If one of these Myth
Keepers actually knows something about Atlantis, who better than a highly trained Obliviator,
someone very skilled in the analysis and modification of memories, to pry that information out of
an unwilling or unconscious subject.”

“I can't believe I never thought that the wild elves might know something about Atlantis.
Just because Dobby said the house-elves were nervous about Atlantis, I shouldn't have assumed
that…But Harry, Corlyn will still need translators, I doubt many of the Obliviators are fluent in
Elvish.”

Harry looked at Hermione in alarm.

“I doubt he's coming after me again Harry. It would be much easier to find someone else to
translate for him than try and kidnap me again. I guarantee it would be much more difficult to do
again.”

“But what about the prophecy? He thought you were the one who would fulfill it. He might try
and…”

“Let's not worry about that right now Harry. If he's stupid enough to come for me again,
we'll finish him off for good this time.” Her cold blue eyes met Harry's green eyes with
grim determination.

“I think we ought to check with Remus and Arthur and see if they know of any missing
interpreters. They would also be able to warn some of the other governments as well. I think
I'll be joining you and Samuel on your little sanctuary busting expeditions as well, but I
think we should broaden our scope a bit and try and visit some of these elven villages as well to
try and warn them.”

Harry smiled. “What about studying for the NEWTs? Don't you want to set the record for the
highest score ever?”

“To tell you the truth, I'm getting a little tired of all the studying. I would rather go
out and do something that might really help someone. Harry? Are you alright?”

“I thought I just heard you say you were tired of studying. Wait until I tell Ron!”

“Harry…”

*-*-*

Later that afternoon, they appeared in Lupin's office. Suddenly his nose twitched and when
he looked up, he nearly fell out of his chair. “Harry! Hermione! Don't do that to me! You
nearly gave me a heart attack.” He glanced down at the dark chalk circle as they started laughing
and added, “I guess you found the countermeasures to the teleport trap?”

Hermione smiled. “Of course. It might be a question on one of the NEWT's.”

“Only on an exam for you or Harry,” he muttered.

“We need to talk to you and Arthur, do you have a few minutes?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, I think so. Bev! Bev! Do I have any appointments this afternoon?”

In stepped a middle-aged witch who frowned when she saw the two teens standing in his
office.

“You're free until 4:00, though I don't recall either of these two having an appointment
for today.”

“Ah, yes, spur of the moment meeting. Thank you Bev. Could you check with Arthur's office
and see if he's free for a few minutes?”

“Do you mean Minister Weasley?”

“Yes, Bev, I mean Minister Weasley.”

“I will check and let you know in a moment.”

“Thanks Bev, err…Miss Wedgely,” said Remus to the closing door.

“Cheerful, that one,” muttered Harry. “But at least she didn't come in with her wand blazing
like Megan did last time Ron and…err…” stumbled Harry when he caught Hermione's gaze.

“When were you here with Ron and why would Megan have attacked you?” asked Hermione.

“Hmm, well, wait. Where is Megan, anyways? Why isn't she here?”

“Well, she was on vacation for two weeks. Actually, she was supposed to be back today, but maybe
she was having a very good time on her trip to the Caribbean. I do wish she'd get back here,
though, Bev is…”

“Did she call in sick or anything?” asked Hermione.

“No, I just assumed she decided to stay an extra day or two…Odd, though that she didn't call
at all, that's not really like her…”

“Doesn't she speak a bunch of languages? Samuel said that she…” asked Harry with
concern.

“Yeah, she does. She's probably the most talented linguist we have among the Aurors.”

Harry and Hermione shared a quick glance. “Do you know if she speaks Elvish?”

“Well, not off the top of my head, I'd have to look at her file and see…”

“Do you know where she lives?” asked Hermione.

Remus nodded and asked, “What is going on here? Why all the questions about Megan?”

“We'll tell you when we get to her house. It's hooked up to the Floo network,
right?”

“Yes. Why do we have to go to her…”

“Trust us,” explained Harry with a grim look on his face.

*-*-*

When the three appeared in Megan's living room, they looked around quickly.

“Megan?” called out Remus. “Megan? Are you home?”

Harry stepped into the room, looking around cautiously. A few feet into the flat, they saw a
packed suitcase sitting on the floor by a couch. Hermione picked up a small booklet and quickly
leafed through it.

She looked up at Harry and Remus as they looked around the walk in kitchen and towards the
bedroom. “Her passport hasn't been stamped. She never left.”

“They found her here,” stated Harry in a flat voice. “She was packing her final bag when they
must have surprised her…” There wasn't much evidence of a struggle, just some dropped clothing
on the floor, but Harry knew there wouldn't have been much of an opportunity for Megan to
resist all by herself.

Remus growled—a low, angry sound. “What do you two think is going on here? Who has taken
Megan?”

“You've heard of the missing Obliviators, right?”

“Yeah. What do they have to do with this?”

“Have you heard of any missing interpreters?”

“There was one that went missing three weeks ago in Italy, but…”

“We think it's Corlyn. He needs the Obliviators and the translators to interrogate the wild
elves.”

“Wild elves? Why…”

“They might be able to tell him how to find Atlantis,” finished Hermione sadly.

“Harry. Are you and Samuel still trashing Corlyn's sanctuaries?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like some help?”

“Sure.”

“Then count me in.”

*-*-*

A cold draft blew through the Gryffindor common room as Hermione marched through and went
straight to her tapestry. The room immediately heated up as Harry came bursting through the
portrait and glanced around the room, his gaze resting on the tapestry concealing the Head
Girl's room for a moment. Several of the Gryffindore looked up, but most kept their heads down,
focused intently on their books.

Ron looked up and started to say something, but Harry held up his hand as he strode through the
room. “I just need to clear my head a bit. I'll be back in a while.”

Ron nodded and sat back down next to Ginny and Luna who were studying with him. Ron was worried
about passing his NEWTs, but he was more worried about Harry and Hermione right now.

“I'm telling you two, before we finish exams this week, one of them is simply going to
explode. I've never seen them under such pressure before.”

“They've got to be dealing with more than just the NEWTs, Ron. They're always gone, I
never see them studying,” mused Ginny. “Do you have any idea what they're up to?”

“I think it has something to do with either Corlyn or Atlantis…or both,” he whispered so softly
they almost couldn't hear him.

Ginny and Luna exchanged a look but said nothing. Ron chuckled. “I know everybody thinks I'm
thick, but come on, it's not that tough to figure out. What else would be stressing out the two
of them this much? Whenever they are around, Harry's eyes never stop moving, like he's
expecting a surprise vampire attack at any time. And nothing would prevent Hermione from studying
for the NEWTs unless it was something much more important—like trying to beat that damn vampire to
Atlantis.”

When Luna and Ginny just stared at him with wide eyes, he admitted, “OK, they told me a little
bit, but I figured out most of it on my own.”

Luna patted his arm comfortingly. “There's only three more days of exams, then most of the
pressure will be off and they can focus on whatever else it is that they're doing. And if you
can't help them right now, you might as well be studying Ron.”

He nodded and turned back towards his notes sadly.

*-*-*

Harry drifted aimlessly around the pitch on his Firebolt. He smiled as he reflected on how
Hogwarts had steamrolled Durmstrang and Beauxbatons in the final home matches of the Tri-School
Quidditch Tournament. Suddenly he sensed her arrival and banked his broom back down to the
stands.

“I don't know what else we can do Mione. We've visited every forest that we knew had a
tribe of wild elves and we've only found three, well four if you count the one that was
destroyed. Hunt, Remus, Hagrid and I have scouted dozens of other forests and haven't found a
trace of any other wild elves. So unless he's already found a Myth Keeper who knows where one
of the portals is, then I don't think he's having much better luck than we are finding
one.”

“But we haven't looked in Eastern Europe or Asia or in the Americas yet Harry. There could
be one that knows…”

“I know! I know! But there's only four of us Hermione! It's going to take a lot longer
to finish looking every where else. So unless you have a couple of Time Turners there is no way we
can do it any faster until we're out of school and even then…”

“I know Harry. But I have a bad feeling we're not going to have that much time.”

“Well, we can skip the remaining exams and the last week of class…”

“No, you're right. Three extra days for you to search is not going to make much of a
difference…”

“Well, there might be another way…” started Harry.

“No, Harry. We can't do that. We'd be no better than Corlyn if we did that.”

“But they might know something Mione—maybe they just don't want to tell us. The Yonnua can
search their minds without even hurting them. He told me that he could…”

“They are our allies Harry. If they ever found out, they would never trust us again or…”

“If Corlyn finds Atlantis and the artifact first it might not matter one way or another…”

“No Harry. It's not right and you know it. I know you had him sift through Pidi's
memories and I didn't like that…”

Harry's voice grew slightly sharper. “Pidi was no ally. And I don't care if he was sick
and deranged or what. He was trying to kill you, Mione. And I would do anything to protect you—to
make sure you never fell into the hands of someone like Corlyn again. I'd do it again in an
instant if I had to…”

“I know Harry. I know. It's just that…”

“These things aren't always black and white Mione. If the choice is between preventing
Corlyn from getting the orb or hurting the feelings of a few wild elves, I'll take…”

“What if you have to kill a few wild elves, or a young witch and a wizard looking for the orb?
Where do you draw the line Harry?”

Harry paused for a moment and then nodded his head in agreement. “OK. We'll keep searching
the way we are until we have a better idea what Corlyn may be up to. I know Aardus hasn't had
any luck yet, but he may yet be able to find out something. Unless he does know something, but
Corlyn isn't letting him reveal it or…” Harry shook his head again as he pondered the various
scenarios which might explain how Aardus still seemed to retain control of what he was doing
despite the indications that Corlyn had regained much of his former power. They had asked him to
try and find the new vampires that seemed to be serving Corlyn and abducting wizards and witches
from all over Europe, but he hadn't had any luck so far. They hadn't informed him of
anything else they were doing, and he hadn't asked them—all three feared he might betray the
information to Corlyn.

“Where do you want us to look tonight?” asked Harry.

“You remember you do have the potions exams tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, but they will be easy.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I nicked a copy of the exam earlier this morning. There's a question on forgetful potions
and one on the scaleskin elixir, as well as…”

“Harry James Potter! How dare you…”

Waving his hands defensively in front of him, Harry laughed. “I'm kidding! I'm
kidding!”

Hermione continued to glare at him angrily.

“Oh come on, Mione. It was just a joke.”

“Cheating on a NEWT exam is no joking matter,” she replied sternly.

“I know, I know. But you could have stopped me sooner if you didn't really want to know
which questions were on the exam, you know.”

“Oh Harry!” she burst out in exasperation, but Harry could tell she was trying to keep from
laughing.

“Look Mione, we know the spellbooks backwards and forwards, all we have to do is pass. And what
we're doing is much more important than whatever score we earn…”

“I know, I am just worried that you're doing too much with everything that is going on at
school right now.”

“What are you talking about? All I do is portkey to the forests and have a look around.
You're the one slogging through most of the books, keeping the map updated, and using
Arithmancy, Muggle statistics, and heaven knows what else to try and guess where we might find
these hidden elven villages.”

Hermione smiled. “Well, it's just the potions exams tomorrow and then the DADA exams on
Friday. We'll probably be able to squeak by those I suppose.”

Harry grinned and gave her a hug.

“I'll meet you guys at seven in Hagrid's cabin to give you the new search
locations.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Well, there are a few books I had wanted to look at, but they're not in the Hogwart's
stacks. Maybe you could borrow them for me from somewhere?”

“Ah, from boy hero of the wizarding world to book-stealing gopher. If the papers only knew…”

Hermione just smirked as she handed Harry a pre-written list. “Thanks. And if you hurry,
I'll even let you help me look through some of them.”

Harry smiled and bowed low. “As you wish.” Then he disappeared while Hermione chuckled.

-->



40. To the Portal
-----------------



Ch 40 To the Portal

Ron sat on the ground with a small group of Gryffindors as they listened to the explosions and
watched in awe what was proving to be an amazing display of fireworks just inside the Forbidden
Forest. Hermione appeared to be growing increasingly agitated, her muttering growing louder and
louder.

“What on earth do they think they're doing? How many spells do they want to see? This is
beyond ridiculous, beyond absurd,” she complained darkly.

A few minutes later, out walked Harry, his robes slightly burnt and his face smudged but with a
wide grin on his face. Behind him followed the trio of examiners from the Ministry with looks of
utter shock plastered on their faces. They kept walking past the group of students as Harry stopped
and chuckled as he watched them walk on.

“What did they do to you Harry?” blurted out Ron.

“Oh, it was mostly illusions to see if I knew the correct spell to use, a few attacks by
multiple creatures…”

“What was that horrid scream we heard?”

“Oh, that? Well, that was either the banshee or the gorgon—they both…”

Harry missed the looks of shock on several of his classmates' faces.

“What do you mean *attacks by multiple creatures*?” asked Seamus.

Harry started ticking off his fingers thoughtfully. “There were the Death Eaters, the
werewolves, the vampires, a pair of giants, and…well, I'm not sure what those two floating
things with the big eyes and tentacles were, but the *Conjunctivitus* curse sure made a mess
of them.”

“That wasn't a NEWT exam, that was an Auror qualifying field test,” snapped Hermione. “What
did they think they were…”

“Relax, Mione,” urged Harry, brushing off some soot from his sleeves. “It wasn't really that
bad. I've seen lots worse you know…How did yours go?”

“Well, they left the vampires out—no doubt they thought it might traumatize me or something,”
replied Hermione sarcastically. “But it was fairly routine, similar to what the others had—a couple
of skeletons, a mad goblin, a spider, and a wyvern. They also had me duel with one of the members
for a minute to demonstrate my defensive spell ability.”

Harry laughed. “That's it?”

“Hey!” shouted Ron. “It was a really big spider!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply…”

“Well, at least we're done with exams,” sighed Hermione as she stood up.

“Exactly!” shouted Dean. “And we have already uhh…acquired some food and drinks for the party.
You guys are coming, right?”

Hermione stopped and looked at the group of Gryffindors. “Yeah, maybe later.” Then she wandered
off towards the lake by herself. Ron looked at Harry for a moment and then Harry turned to follow
her. Ron led the others back up to the Gryffindor tower.

“Mione! Are you OK? You seem a little…uhh…”

“Stressed? Fried? Burnt out? Yeah…” replied Hermione glumly as she reached down to grab a stone
and sent it skipping across the lake surface. “I know everyone else is happy about finishing exams
and school and everything but…”

“But it's hard to enjoy it with Atlantis and Corlyn hanging over our heads?”

Hermione looked back at him and nodded.

“We'll deal with them soon enough, but in the meantime you can't give up enjoying life
itself.”

“Is this what it felt like after you learned about the prophecy?” asked Hermione. “Is this what
it felt like to be part of a prophecy? Fearing what might happen, fearing you might not live up to
your role, fearing you might not be able to prevent something terrible from happening? I thought I
understood what you were going through…but I don't think I really did…”

“Mione, for the millionth time—you are not the Dark Queen of that stupid prophecy…” insisted
Harry wearily. “And yes it was tough, but you and Ron helped me make it through all of that. You
refused to let me wallow in self-pity and doubt—well, you tried really hard anyways. And you both
reminded me that there were still lots of good things about life. So I'm ordering you to stop
brooding for the next three hours and we're going to go have some fun with the rest of the
Gryffindors tonight to celebrate the end of exams.” Harry raised his hand to prevent any comments
from Hermione. “No buts, Miss Granger. I won't take no for an answer.”

Hermione stared for a moment and then laughed. “You're very convincing Mr. Potter. Very
well, I promise to stop thinking about how to find Atlantis and Corlyn for the next couple of
hours. After all, the weeks I've already spent haven't done much good so far. Maybe I need
a little break for some inspiration to finally…”

Hermione paused as she stared out across the pond at the giant squid. “Harry. Why do we have a
giant squid in the lake at Hogwarts?”

“Why do we have a…what?” asked a bewildered Harry, as he stopped to looke back at her.

Hermione stepped closer to the water, still staring intently at the giant squid floating lazily
on the surface in the afternoon sunlight.

“Why is there a giant squid, a sea creature, in a fresh water lake at Hogwarts? And how did the
merpeople get here? This is the only lake in all of Great Britain that has merpeople, did you know
that Harry?”

“I know that we had to transport the merpeople who fought with us from here to the battleground
with Voldemort. I didn't know there weren't any other merpeople in Great Britain, though if
you say so…but I'm not sure I'm following you Mione,” admitted Harry.

“Why do the merpeople of the lake look so different from all the pictures in the books and…”

“I didn't think you judged people by their appearance Mione. We've all had bad
photos…besides, what difference does it make?”

“I need to talk to one of the merpeople…”

“Well, unless you fancy going for a swim, there's a picture of one hanging in the
Prefect's bathroom you could talk to,” offered Harry.

“And the password…”

Harry grinned. “I think it's still Gabrielle Delacour.”

Hermione snorted. “Fine. Let's go.”

A moment later Harry appeared by himself outside the door to the prefect's bathroom. He
grinned and said, “Gabrielle Delacour.” As he opened the door, he stepped by Hermione who was
already inside waiting.

“Still hate that password, huh?” teased Harry.

“Where's the picture?” she asked, ignoring his question and walking around the huge pool,
scanning the walls.

Harry pointed to the picture of the beautiful mermaid, throwing her long tresses in the gentle
sea breeze of her picture.

“I have a question for you, if I may,” asked Hermione, stepping closer to the large picture.

“Of course dear. How can I help?”

“Uhh…I wanted to ask you about your beautiful skin tone and your magnificent hair. Err…how do
you manage to keep them so enchanting?”

“*Well p**ut* *Lavender. The Parvati twins will be so thrilled to hear you're
finally into girly stuff like skincare and hair products…”*

*“Oh be quiet Harry.”*

“Well…” began the mermaid as Harry nearly dozed off. Even Hermione had to fight to keep from
yawning as the mermaid painstakingly detailed every single thing she did to keep up her appearance.
Harry's head started to ache.

Hermione finally managed to ask, “What would happen if you lived in fresh water and not salt
water?”

“What? Oh that would be terrible! A merperson is made for salt water—only those who have
committed terrible crimes are banished to fresh water. Without the salt, all kinds of horrible
things would happen—greyish skin and green hair, yellowish teeth and eyes—oh, don't even joke
about such a horrid fate.”

“But you could survive in fresh water…” prompted Hermione.

“I'd rather die. But yes, I suppose so. But who would want to?”

“Thank you, you've been very helpful.”

“But I haven't even told you what I do with my nails…”

“That's OK, I just chew mine,” finished Hermione as the mermaid looked at her in horror.

“*No you don't Hermione.”*

*“No, but it shut her up long enough for us to leave. Come on, let's go.”*

Harry chuckled as they closed the door behind them. He glanced at Hermione and whispered, “Going
for a swim are we?” Then he added, “*Do you really think we'll find one of the portals at the
bottom of the lake?”*

*“Yeah, I do. I can't believe I didn't think of it earlier. How else would we get
creatures in our lake that belong in the sea? They must have come through a portal to Atlantis
somehow.”*

*“But that would mean the portals were underwater. And Atlantis was an island, it wasn't
underwater until after...”*

*“It would be much easier to defend an underwater portal than one on dry land. It would keep
most creatures out, and would be virtually impossible for Muggles or anyone else to discover either
by accident or on purpose.”*

*“And we still have no idea what we're looking for, do we?”*

*“Not really, though if the squid fit through, it can't be too small.**”*

*“I'll meet you in a few minutes then by the lake shore.”*

*-*-*

An hour later, Hermione heard Harry's excited voice. “*I think I found it. This has got to
be it.”*

*“Where are you?”*

A moment later, Hermione was floating beside Harry in her wetsuit and bubble head charm. She
looked up at the enormous carving of a door on the side of the rock that was under one of the
cliffs near the school. There was a very narrow path that allowed students to walk along the edge
of the lake, but under water, the edge turned very sheer again.

Hermione concentrated intently on the etched runes along the sides of the marked door, but had
to rub some of the dirt and silt out of some of them in order to make them out. Suddenly Harry spun
when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

“*We've got visitors Mione. And I don't think they want us by the portal.”*

*“I can't read this last line…I've almost got it…”* She was suddenly thrown to the
ground as a flash of light sped across her peripheral vision and a spear arced over her shoulder.
Harry moved his hand from her shoulder where he had pushed her to the ground and sent another spell
at a group of three crabmen who were preparing to launch their spears. They fell over backwards as
Harry looked for another target.

“*I need another minute to finish deciphering the runes…”*

*“You've got thirty seconds.”* “*Pummelo! Arius!”* shouted out Harry as he dodged
several spears launched at him and knocked down another two aimed at Hermione.

With the crabmen scuttling closer, Harry was forced to use several *Sunflare* charms to
hinder their aim.

“*Harry, I can't see when you do that.”*

*“Well, neither can they. That's why you're not a pincushion yet.”*

*“Can't you do that bubble thing to keep them away, I've almost finished
translating…”*

*“I'll see what I can do.”* Harry focused and pushed a wave of water back at the
crabmen moving closer. As he concentrated he could dimly hear Hermione muttering words to herself.
Then she spoke more loudly, and more firmly, as if she were now sure of the translation. Harry
cracked open an eye and saw the outline of the door glow a dim green. Hermione put a hand forward
in the center of the door and pushed.

Nothing happened except that the lights dimmed and then went out. Several spears landed near
Hermione's feet and quivered in the sand, but she didn't even flinch as she began repeating
the same words again. Harry dove forward as another volley of spears landed right where she had
been standing

When Hermione opened her eyes, she turned to him and asked “How did you get us through the
portal Harry? I thought it had closed. I began repeating the…what the…wait…are we…are we in your
house? I thought...”

“Slow down, Mione. You just about got yourself shish-kabobbed at the portal trying to reread the
runes.”

“I think I know what I did wrong, maybe if I…”

“I don't think rereading the inscription is going to make much difference Mione.”

“What? I think I can figure it out Harry. I just need some time to…”

“Look, you said yourself that the portals have a number of defenses, right? Why would they just
open to anyone who came along who could read Atlantean?”

“Well, maybe they…err…umm…what about the giant squid and the merpeople…how do you explain them
being here Harry?”

“Well, I doubt they *opened* the portal. Maybe they were sent as additional guardians.
Maybe they were being punished. Maybe they came through the portal when Atlantis was destroyed and
the elves were fleeing…maybe somebody left it open…I don't know. What we do know is that the
portal is there, but you couldn't open it.”

“I only got one chance to try it…”

“And you won't get many more with the crabmen guarding it. Now they know that someone is
looking for it and trying to pass through the portal. It will be nearly impossible for us to get
past them now without killing them all. And even then, I doubt you'll be able to open the…”

“You don't think I can do it? You don't think it can be done? So what, we just give up
and hope that Corlyn can't figure out a way past the portal and…”

“I didn't say that Mione. Let me finish. What we need is somebody who can get the crabmen to
back off…somebody who can open the portal…somebody like…”

“Master Potter. Mistress Granger. Dobby is so happy to see you both. Will you be staying for
dinner? And why are you dripping wet?”

Harry turned towards Dobby as a wide smile spread on Hermione's face.

“Dobby, I have a huge favor to ask you.”

*-*-*

An hour later, with their bubble head charms in place once again and a very nervous and
reluctanct house-elf beside them, the three disappeared from Harry's house and reappeared at
the bottom of the lake in front of the portal.

Instantly the crabmen moved forward with their weapons raised and then halted as Dobby raised a
hand. They bowed in front of him and then moved aside as he told them, “Step aside, I need to use
the portal. You will not harm either the wizard or the witch you see beside me. Step aside and make
room for us.”

Dobby walked slowly to the portal, with Harry and Hermione on either side of him. He stopped in
front of the portal, gazing at it with trepidation. He then repeated the phrases Hermione had
deciphered earlier, with Hermione silently translating for Harry.

“Welcome home wandering Athlanti, return now to your glorious island.

Rest well from your journey, and enjoy again your friends and family.”

Once again the lights glowed green and Dobby placed his palm in the center of the door. The
lights flashed a bright green, and then Dobby stepped forward through the grey mist that seemed to
bubble from the stone face of the arched portal. Harry and Hermione followed right behind him.

*-*-*

The three stepped through onto what appeared to be a large, spacious building. It was fairly
dark, but as their eyes adjusted they could see better details of the room around them. Part of the
roof was collapsed and there were bits of seaweed and other plants everywhere amidst the tumbled
stones.

Harry led them slowly through the debris towards a doorway on the far wall. He cast a quick
*Disillusionment* charm on Dobby and then disappeared himself. Hermione, too, disappeared from
sight.

“*Follow me,”* instructed Harry.

“*How do you know where you're* *going Harry?”* asked Hermione.

*“I don't. but I've got a bad feeling about this place.* *Something doesn't
feel right.”*

Stepping over the collapsed doors, they entered what was once a very nice street. It was now
filled with cracks and debris from partially collapsed buildings.

Harry turned right and led the silent, invisible three slowly along what was once a major
boulevard in the now silent city. Hermione marveled at the exquisite architecture evident in some
of the surviving ruins while Dobby kept his eyes down. Harry's eyes darted from shadow to
shadow, trying to locate the source of his unease.

Half an hour later, their street intersected with a much larger avenue and Harry paused,
observing closely the various buildings and street conditions. Suddenly he clutched the sword hilt
of *Shadowbreaker.*

*”Mione. Can you Light Walk back to the portal with Dobby?”*

*“It would be easier to Apparate, but…”*

*“You can't. They've put up detection wards for that. Can you do it?”*

*“Yes, but…”*

*“Then do it. Give me three minutes. If I'm not back by then, take Dobby and go warn
Dumbledore.”*

*“What? Where are you going?”*

*“I'm going to go find out what you need to tell Dumbledore.”*

*“Harry, I'm not leaving…”*

*“Just do it Mione. I don't have time to argue. I need to go see what they're up to
and then I'll be back with you. Please, just trust me.”*

*“Okay. Be back in three minutes Harry.”*

*“I will.” Harry teleported away while Dobby and Hermione disappeared amidst the faint light
in the street.*

Two and a half minutes later Hermione sensed Harry's presence next to the portal.

“*Open the portal Dobby, we gotta go now!”*

Hermione translated for Dobby the new inscription that was written on this side of the portal
and he placed his hand again on the door and the three quickly stepped through. Harry immediately
teleported them to Dumbledore's study where Harry looked around wildly.

“Dumbledore! Dumbledore!”

“He is not here, Mr. Potter,” lectured one of the pictures on the wall. “Don't you ever
knock young man?”

“Do you know where he is?” asked Harry. “It's very important that we speak with him
immediately.”

“It always is with you,” replied the retired Headmaster. “He is in a faculty meeting with the
other professors right now I believe in…”

“Mione. Can you get him? And bring Snape, Hagrid, and McGonagall too.”

“Harry, what's this all about? What did you see?”

“I'll show everybody in a few minutes when they get here,” explained Harry as he headed to
the fireplace and grabbed a bit of powder.

Hermione frowned at the lack of an explanation but disappeared while Dobby looked around
nervously.

“Hello Bev. Yes I know this is an unscheduled call, but I need to talk to Rem—Chief Auror Lupin
immediately. It's an emergency.”

*-*-*

Ten minutes later, Snape grumbled. “Could you explain to us again what, exactly, was so
important that Mr. Potter needed to speak with us about?”

As Hermione turned towards him, she glanced over the various people gathered in Dumbledore's
study. Dumbledore sat quietly behind his large desk, as always, tapping his fingertips together
serenely. Hagrid stood anxiously, always worried about Harry. McGonagall sat to one side and
watched Snape pace about with irritation. Ron, Luna, Ginny, Neville, Draco and Gabrielle were on
the other side of the room, looking confused and worried. They had all been searching the castle
for Harry and Hermione when neither had shown up for the Gryffindor party and had bumped into
Hermione and the professors heading up towards Dumbledore's study.

“Like I said earlier, Harry and I found something at the bottom of the lake, but until Harry
returns I…”

Suddenly, Samuel and Remus burst through the door. Snape and many of the others looked up at the
hulking, solid form of Remus, so different from the thin frame most of them were accustomed to
seeing.

“What happened to you?” exclaimed Snape.

“Well, it turns out that Harry and Dumbledore's theories about lyncanthropy and animagi were
correct.”

“But I thought you weren't going to try it for another month…” mumbled McGonagall.

A huge grin crossed his face as he glanced at Ron. “Well, I got tired of waiting.”

“Well, what is your Animagus form then? An elephant?” asked Ron.

“Actually, it is a bear. A grizzly bear. You're the first ones I've told.”

Most everyone stood to congratulate him warmly, except for Snape.

“Well, that certainly explains the growth spurt. I had thought you had gone through puberty
years ago, but…”

Lupin ignored Snape's comment and asked, “So what is this all about? Harry didn't say
much except that it was an emergency.”

“That's what we'd all like to know,” replied Snape.

Just then Harry appeared in the middle of the room.

“Nice of you to drop in, Potter,” sneered Snape. “This better be important. I have much better
things to…”

“It is. We've found Corlyn and Atlantis.”

Harry pulled down Dumbledore's Pensieve from its cupboard while the room exploded in
commotion. Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded back at him.

Harry sat the Pensieve on Dumbledore's desk and pulled out his wand. He then turned to the
room and spoke. “Though several of you are aware of what Hermione and I have been doing, let be
briefly explain it for those of you who don't know. Hermione and I have been looking for
Atlantis since last summer. There is a powerful artifact that was lost there centuries ago when it
sank into the sea. Hermione and I had hoped to recover the artifact before someone else did. There
is a very powerful vampire named Corlyn, the same one who kidnapped Hermione and the other students
from Hogwarts last December, who desperately wants to find that artifact.”

“But you've found him? And you've found Atlantis?” asked Ron in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah. The problem is that Corlyn found Atlantis first. He's already there with a new
army of vampires. And they've been very busy looking for the orb. Let me show you.”

He twirled his wand at his temple, pulled several strands of silver, wispy smoke from the side
of his head and then said, “*Sensoris altus,”* and then waved his wand in a large circle above
his head.

What followed was a series of disconcerting images like a slide show shown at high speed.

“What are we supposed to make of that Potter?” complained Snape as he rubbed his eyes and
temples furiously.

Samuel chuckled, too, as he rubbed his eyes with his forefingers. “Though it could have used
some editing, I believe it was a quick tour of Corlyn's forces and where they are searching.
What did you do—make a series of teleport jumps just as quickly as you determined a safe
location?”

Harry shook his head in the affirmative.

“He would have had to move quickly. Vampires are very perceptive with living bodies. It's
nearly impossible to completely hide yourself from the most powerful ones like Corlyn, even
magically,” explained Hermione.

Harry nodded again. “They had wards to detect Apparation, and had even set a few teleportation
traps, but I've learned to avoid those,” grinned Harry. “They're focusing on a huge
building and the grounds around it. I couldn't teleport into the building itself though. I
think it may have been a palace, there seem to have been some large walls around it once.”

“And you saw Corlyn there?” asked Dumbledore.

“No, but I know he's there.”

“That's a dangerous assumption Harry,” warned Samuel. “It wouldn't be…”

“Unless you know another vampire after Atlantis, I would say the profile fits...”

“He'll be there,” insisted Hermione. “He likes to keep very close tabs on his projects,” her
voice soft and dangerous.

“Did you see any of the missing Obliviators or Megan?” asked Remus.

Harry turned towards him sadly. “Yeah, I did.” He poked his wand in the Pensieve and swirled it
a bit. In the middle of the room hovered an image of a beautiful, but emotionless Megan standing
near what appeared to be an enormous statue.

“Meg!” hissed Samuel angrily. “Do you have a plan, Harry? I assume that is why you asked us all
here. Either you have one, or you need some help coming up with one…”

“Well, I do have a few rough ideas that need some fine tuning…” began Harry. He nodded and
Aardus stepped out of the shadows.

“What is he doing here?!” seemed to be the general consensus of most of the exclamations made by
the faculty and students in the room.

“I brought him here. I believe he can help us spring a trap for Corlyn.”

“If he doesn't spring it on you first,” muttered Samuel darkly.

“How do you know this isn't all part of another elaborate trap set up by Corlyn just to…”
protested Snape.

“He's had plenty of opportunities to spring a trap for one of us if he wanted. Aardus has
been in the Forbidden Forest for months now, but has done nothing but help train me. Corlyn could
have set a trap at one of his sanctuaries that Harry and Samuel have been destroying, but
hasn't, even though he knew Aardus would betray him to us if given the chance.

No, his plan was to let us think he remained weak and unable to pursue the artifact. That's
why he never bothered to recall Aardus or use him. He hoped to fool us into complacency and
inactivity while he pursued Atlantis. Harry and I nearly defeated him once before. He's not the
type that will look for a rematch unless he is positive he will win,” explained Hermione.

“So, assuming that Aardus is willing, what is it you propose to do Harry?” asked Remus.

“Well, there are two ways we can go about attacking Corlyn and his vampires. We can take a large
force and try to simply overwhelm them—no doubt with a very high casualty rate and no guarantee of
success. There are also some logistical problems with that as well, primarily that of
transportation. We can't get to Atlantis except through the portals. We tried to teleport,
light walk, Apparate, and make a portkey, but you simply can't do it. And within the city
itself, Corlyn has set up alarm wards to inform him if anyone tries to portkey or Apparate. So,
simply getting enough forces there quickly enough to take down his vampire army would be a problem.
If we were detected before we got anywhere near the palace, the battle would be over before it
began.

What I suggest is that a small group of us use the portal to Atlantis and hide in the building
where it is located. Then we send in Aardus to find Corlyn. He can Shadow Walk and find him for us.
Hermione can stay in touch with him, and when Aardus locates him, Hermione can let the rest of us
know where to Apparate.”

“But didn't you just say that there were alarm wards,” pointed out Draco.

“Yeah, that's why we have to kill him fast. Once Corlyn goes down, the whole vamp army goes
down.”

“Assuming that you can figure out how to kill Corlyn. And assuming that Aardus doesn't
betray you. And assuming…” protested Snape.

“Surely we can come up with a better plan than putting our lives in the hands of a vampire…”
added Samuel.

“I think this is our best shot at finding Corlyn. Aardus will not alert any of the vampires to
his presence, none of them know him—they'll just assume he's another one of Corlyn's
army. The only one that will recognize him will be Corlyn himself, and by then it will be too
late—we'll know where he is.”

“But…”

“I'm willing to take the chance,” stated Harry.

“And I've been thinking a lot about how you might kill an Eldor,” added Hermione grimly.

“Well, that's good enough for me. Count me in!” yelled Ron. Hagrid was the next one to jump
to his feet, barely beating Luna, Ginny, Neville, Draco and Gabrielle to their feet.

With a wide smile on his face, Lupin stood as well, towering over everyone but Hagrid. “I'm
going as well. We can't let the young ones have all the fun…”

“Albus, surely you can't let the students go down—this is much too dangerous…” protested
McGonagall.

“More dangerous than confronting Voldemort and his army last spring? No, I believe they have
more than proven themselves. If they choose to fight this battle, I will not prevent them, not even
the underage ones.”

Ginny beamed at him.

“But I will insist that I be allowed to accompany them as well.” He glanced quickly at Harry
before he could open his mouth and added. “The portal and the danger lie too close to Hogwarts for
me to ignore it. Do not worry, I will do my best to stay out of the way.”

Harry grinned slightly and nodded. “Thank you Professor. I'm sure we'll need your help.
Everyone that wants to go meet us down by the side of the lake in fifteen minutes—I don't want
any of you to feel like you have to come. Change into something you can swim in and be ready to
cast a Bubble Head charm. I'll make a portkey to take us to the portal.”

Fifteen minutes later, Harry noticed that everyone from Dumbledore's office had arrived, as
well as several dark robed Aurors. He was only slightly surprised to see Snape by the shore as
well.

“Well, since they wouldn't allow me to see my own students take their DADA NEWTs, I thought
I'd come along to see if any of you actually learned anything this year,” he explained.

Harry smiled and then held up the long piece of rope. When they all grabbed hold, he said
softly, “Atlantis.” The entire group then disappeared.

-->



41. Confronting The Dark Queen
------------------------------



Ch 41 The Dark Queen

A moment later they all reappeared in the middle of the dark building. Harry nodded at Aardus
who then disappeared again. Harry tapped several stones with his wand and whispered a low
incantation to make them glow dimly, providing a little light for those without the superior
eyesight of the Animagi present. Hermione held out her hand to Dumbledore who gave her the small
crystal he used to view distant locations in order to Apparate. She tapped it with her wand and
whispered “*Engorgio”* and set it on the ground in the middle of the group.

Harry looked up at Hermione who then mindspoke to everyone for him. “Remember, once Aardus
locates him and shows us the location, we need to Apparate there around him, not all bunched up in
a pack. We need to surround him and defeat him as quickly as possible, before there is a chance for
his vampires to arrive. Focus on him, he's the primary target. Once we eliminate him, it should
be all downhill from there.

Hermione and I believe we've come up with a way to kill him. We need to cast a *Spirit
Trap* curse on him to keep him from abandoning his body again when he gets hurt. If we can trap
what's left of his soul in the last body he's stolen, *Shadowbreaker* should be able
to finish the job,” he added, hefting the dark sword.

Snape's face clearly indicated his uncertainty about the plan, something his words would
have made clear, if anybody could have heard them underwater.

“What we need the rest of you to do is to try and distract him while Hermione casts the spell.
It's a rather long and complicated incantation. Ron, you stick with Hermione and make sure she
doesn't get distracted or attacked. Samuel and Dumbledore will help me with Corlyn while the
rest of you handle any of his vamps that manage to show up. Any questions?” His eyes scanned the
faces of his friends and he nodded. “OK then. I want you to team up—find a partner that you
trust—they'll be guarding your back. And don't worry about teaming up an adult with a
student—it's more important that you know your partner and feel comfortable with him or her.”
Harry glanced around with satisfaction as they spread out and prepared themselves for battle.

Hermione's eyes focused in concentration and then the crystal on the floor of the room
erupted with a bright image.

“Damn,” muttered Harry as he studied the picture before them. “He's out in the open, in the
courtyard. Well, no matter we'll have to go in and…” His thoughts trailed off as he happened to
notice that Draco was standing all alone with his eyes wide in surprise.

“*Where did Gabrielle go?”* he thought. “*Oh no! She's already Apparated there!
Mione! Tell them we need to go! NOW!”*

The room quickly emptied of witches and wizards.

*-*-*

Harry and the others found themselves in a large circle around Corlyn. At his side, on her knees
whimpering was Gabrielle. As Harry quickly took in the rest of the scene, he realized that they
were heavily outnumbered and completely surrounded by vampires. There was also a large number of
Muggles who looked like they were in a complete daze. He noticed that it was the Muggles, with
several computers, drills, and different types of excavation equipment along with shovels and small
picks and brushes, who were doing the work of sifting through the debris. Then Harry realized that
not only was their considerable light down here, but an enormous air pocket as well. “*Of course,
Corlyn's human slaves would need both in order to work*,” he reasoned angrily as he removed
his Bubble Head charm.

“Miss Granger. Mr. Potter. I must admit that it is not a complete surprise that I see you here
today. I never thought that crazy little elf would actually deter you from continuing your search
for Atlantis. And look, you've brought your very own house elf, as well as several of your
other friends. Septimus, I wish we could have met under better circumstances—I truly admired what
you did…”

“Even as you used me for your own dark purposes,” replied Dumbledore in a low, angry tone.

Hermione started chanting in a low tone of voice at the back of the group as Ron stepped in
front of her. Luna watched the vampires to their back nervously. The others stepped closer to
Corlyn as Harry pleaded for him to spare Gabrielle. “Let her go Corlyn, it's me you want after
all…”

“I didn't want any of you, but now that you're here, I'll do as I please. I may be
able to find some use for many of you. Surrender now and it will go much easier for you. Just ask
Miss Granger about the pains of resistance. As far as Miss Delacour, here, I do not believe she is
in need of your rescuing right now, Mr. Potter.”

Gabrielle looked at Harry with a bitter smile and then tilted her head back and screeched that
mind numbing scream Harry had heard once before during a Quidditch match against Beauxbatons.

Stunned, he shook his head to clear it and glared at Gabrielle. She matched his glare and turned
to Corlyn and said, “The bushy haired witch, the one behind the red head was trying to cast a
*Spirit Trap* curse on you. They think it will prevent you from escaping again and allow them
to defeat you.”

Corlyn chuckled again and then leaned down and slapped her hard across the face. “Thank you for
your information and your assistance, but *I did not escape nor do I need your help in defeating
those two.*” He laughed again. “While I understand your desire for greater power than that
available to a mere mortal, even a veela, it is hard to trust someone who would so easily betray
their friends. Oh, but I see it now. You do not see yourself betraying your friends, only her—the
bushy haired witch as you call her. You are jealous of my little Dark Queen and seek to replace
her—that is why you came to me.” Harry fought to control his anger while he began whispering
softly.

Hermione spoke loudly as Hagrid stepped closer to Harry. “You were jealous of me, you little
tart?”

Gabrielle glared daggers at Hermione. “Shut up! What do you know?! I am sick and tired of
depending on others for protection and my own safety. I wasn't able to save myself from the
vampires who came after you. None of us were! We weren't strong enough! The only one who was
ever strong enough to save me barely even knew I existed! All he ever saw was you! And now look at
you! You know more spells and have more power and are more feared than any witch I know. And
I've heard that you are even more beautiful than a veela now—though you foolishly choose to
hide it. You do nothing with the gifts he has given you! You have everything I want, but I'll
get it too. I'll let him turn me and then we'll see who wins his affections!”

Hermione was struck speechless for a moment. Ginny snarled, “What an idiot! In your mad
obsession for power and Harry, you'll turn to the very creature who nearly killed you and him!
How stupid can you be?!”

Hermione roared, “That piece of filth behind you gave me nothing but fear and pain. He gave me
nothing of importance I had not already gained on my own. He can have his strength, his speed, his
physical beauty—they are of no value to me and do not define who or what I am!”

Corlyn laughed again as he watched the girls argue. “Fascinating as this is, I'm afraid I
can not allow your little friends to continue running around free and alive.” He raised his hands
to his vampire children and human slaves and instructed them, “Those who throw down their wands now
will be turned. Those who do not will die now. Kill them. Kill them aghhhh!”

Everyone looked at Corlyn in confusion as he suddenly fell to his knees and tried to reach
behind him, as if he were trying to grab something. Harry finished the *Soul Trap* curse as
Corlyn struggled with his invisible attacker and glanced at Hermione.

“*He's looking, looking…He's found it Harry! To truly kill him, he needs to be staked
by one of his own vampires. It doesn't matter what kind of stake, but it has to be one of his
own children that does it. I don't think Shadowbreaker will finish the job…”*

“*Can you help Aardus do it?”*

*“I'll try.”*

*“Good. I'll go soften him up then.”*

Corlyn had finally found whatever had latched on to the back of his neck and hurled it across
the room where an explosion of feathers marked the spot where the body hit a large stone
column.

Harry couldn't worry about the fate of the Yonnua at the moment though, he had to distract
Corlyn from his true danger. *“Gladius! Neco Flamen!”*

“Remember this?” taunted Harry, raising *Shadowbreaker* high. “The sword still hungers for
your dark, damned soul Corlyn. And if you hadn't slunk away like some cow blood sucking leech,
we would have finished this last time. Where is your pride? I thought you were an Eldor? I thought
you were better than us mere mortals? But I killed your entire family of vampires and then I kicked
your…”

“Silence you insolent brat! You cannot imagine the pain and terror I have in store for you…”
Corlyn quickly ducked under Harry's fierce slicing swing. In perfect balance, Harry followed up
with another cutting attack as he continued his spin. This time he grazed the chest of Corlyn and
he screamed in agony as the cursed flame burnt his unholy flesh.

“Kill them! Kill them all!” screamed Corlyn.

“Dumbledore, Snape, if you two could keep his goons off of me, I'll finish off Gramps here
and…” Harry suddenly ducked and rolled to the side under a ferocious swing by a snarling
Corlyn.

Harry rose fluidly to his feet and smoothly launched another coordinated series of thrusts and
slashes, continuing to press his attack. His entire focus was on the vampire before him, he had to
trust that the others could hold their own for a few moments while Hermione helped Aardus launch
the fatal blow. Corlyn was still much stronger and faster, but Harry wasn't exhausted this
time. And he had been training against someone who was faster and stronger than Corlyn for months.
Harry was just aggressive enough to keep Corlyn off balance without leaving any openings for Corlyn
to slip his blade through. For what seemed like hours, they weaved and parried and danced around
each other, Harry occasionally trading blows, since his were healed as soon as his dark sword
landed again, while Corlyn's continued to weaken him, if only slightly. But Harry knew he
wasn't going to be able to knick Corlyn to death with small cuts and scratches.

“*How's it coming Mione?”*

“*We're working on it. I think we're almost there…”*

“THAT'S ENOUGH!!!” boomed a rich, musical voice full of power. Harry sidestepped quickly and
snuck a glance when he saw Corlyn's eyes open in shock. Harry nearly dropped his own weapons in
amazement and horror at what he saw. One of the stone statues that had been standing in the garden
was moving forward, shifting and transforming before their very eyes.

Beautiful, shiny black scales replaced the stone exterior and the long supple neck reached
upward as the head then swiveled to look down at the warring figures below it. Harry noticed a
small portal of jet black darkness opening by its tail. Standing next to the portal, with a mixed
look of hope and horror, was Gabrielle, holding a long, silver spear. There was a flash of red
flame in the opening portal and the dragon's head swooped down to eye level with the silver
haired veela.

“BE A GOOD GIRL AND TOSS THAT NASTY LITTLE STICK THROUGH THE PORTAL DEAR AND I WILL REWARD YOU
BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS.”

As if in a trance, Gabrielle raised the spear and pushed it through. Scaly little clawed hands
from the other side eagerly grabbed for the spear shaft and then released it as it burnt their
palms. As Gabrielle pushed the end of the hilt in, one of the clawed hands found her own hand and
latched on to it eagerly, pulling her towards the portal. A look of sheer terror spread on her face
as her entire arm was pulled in and then her head smacked against the side of the portal. “Help me!
Ron! Draco! HARRY!!! Please, help me…” she wailed in fear.

The three of them Apparated there with Dumbledore and Snape, and though they grabbed her other
arm and legs, they were no match for the strength of the devils on the other side. Halfway in,
Harry cried out desperately to Dumbledore. “We've got to shut it—we can't save her!”

“Harry!” shouted Draco. “We have to try!”

Draco stumbled forward as Gabrielle was torn from the hands of the others into the flaming
portal, but Ron caught him and pulled him back easily as tears fell down Draco's cheeks.
“Gabrielle…I thought…” The two of them turned to hear the black dragon chuckling at them. Draco
tried to run at the dragon, but Ron held him tightly by the shoulders. The dragon swished its
massive tail as Harry, Snape, and Dumbledore raised their wands and sent all five of them flying
from the demon gate.

The dragon then turned back to Corlyn.

“FOR CENTURIES HAVE I AWAITED THE RETURN OF ONE OF MY FAITHFUL SERVANTS OF OLD. AND YOU SEEK TO
REPLACE ME! ME?! YOU SOUGHT TO REPLACE THE TRUE DARK QUEEN WITH THIS…THIS FRAIL, FEEBLE
MORTAL?!”

Corlyn fell to his knees. “My Queen. I never believed her to be the true queen, only a pawn to
restore you to your full power. The prophecy indicated…”

“SILENCE YOU FOOL! I HAVE BEEN TRAPPED HERE FOR CENTURIES—FOR WEEKS I HAVE BEEN CALLING TO YOU
TO FREE ME AND YOU HAVE IGNORED MY PLEAS…”

“But the prophecy indicated that you would fall again in death.

“I WAS NEVER KILLED. THAT PITIFUL SPLINTER COULD NOT KILL ME! I KNOW ALL ABOUT THE PROPHECY…

*A QUEEN OF DEATH WILL ARISE TO DESTROY THE OLD WORLD*

*THE DARK QUEEN WILL BRING TO PASS A NEW WORLD*

*AND SHATTER THE OLD WORLD*

*I* GAVE THAT PROPHECY YOU IGNORANT SLAVE—THERE IS NOTHING ABOUT MY DEATH IN IT! IT WAS
SIMPLY MEANT TO BRING ONE OF YOU HERE TO RELEASE ME FROM THIS PRISON AND NOW THAT I AM FREE…”

“But the prophecy…”

“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME AGAIN, YOU INSOLENT SLUG! NOW WHERE IS THIS SO CALLED DARK QUEEN YOU HAVE
CREATED?”

The dragon's head now focused on Hermione, with Luna, Ginny, and Neville standing by her
side with their wands raised. Hermione looked up at the mighty dragon, struggling to keep any fear
from showing on her face.

Across the courtyard, Draco muttered in despair as he crawled to his hands and knees, “Your
sister, she needs help…”

Ron turned and then Apparated in front of the three girls with Neville. Dumbledore, Snape, and
Harry had returned to the growing portal and were chanting the spells that would seal the demon
gate, a stronger version of the *Holy Net* spell that Harry had used the year before. They
paused before they began casting the final part and Dumbledore whispered, “Go and protect them. I
can finish this.”

Harry glanced at him quickly and then both he and Snape disappeared from his side. When they
appeared, they saw both Ginny and Ron flying through the air. Luna and Neville were still standing
by Hermione, all three were casting powerful curses at the black dragon, but they just seemed to
bounce off her thick scales. She reached down and snatched Luna with one of her claws, piercing one
of her thighs, and tossed her aside like a broken doll. Her horned snout caught Neville in the
stomach, and he went flying sideways as well. Her jaws snapped down towards Hermione, but she
disappeared as the massive maw crashed and dug into a huge stone where she had stood and crumbled
it to dust.

Harry plunged his wand-sword deep into one of its black eyes while Snape launched a jet of acid
from the tip of his wand at the other eye. Meanwhile, Hagrid was throwing massive chunks of rock
and debris at its chest, Samuel and Remus were casting spells at its underbelly, looking for a
weakness there while several of the Aurors were launching spells at the massive wings and back,
probing for some chink in the armor of the enormous beast. The creature shook with laughter and
then flexed its tail again and shook its wings, knocking down the various attackers.

“PITIFUL MORTALS! YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME!”

Her jaws snapped closed over Harry's chest and she raised him in the air only to throw him
to the side, shrieking in pain as smoke curled from her mouth. Spotting where Hermione had
Apparated to help Ron and Ginny, she again shot her head forward and opened her jaws wide. Ginny
pushed Hermione down to the side as the jaws descended, and then was pushed out of the way by their
DADA instructor and former Potions master.

Snape screamed once in terrible pain as the jaws closed shut across his torso and he fell from
the bloody mouth of the dragon. The giant wyrm roared in satisfaction and then snapped her head to
the side and screamed in frustration as she saw Dumbledore finish sealing the gate.

“NOW I WILL HAVE TO WAIT FORTY DAYS TO OPEN IT AGAIN YOU MEDDLESOME MORTAL!” she screamed. As
she moved towards the weary wizard, her form shimmered and a ten foot tall creature of darkest
black replaced the enormous dragon that had been there before. A pair of curling horns, an extra
pair of arms, and two, large, fang filled mouths completed the horrid form of the demon as it
strode angrily towards Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned from the gate and raised his wand, his eyes blazing and his face etched with
fury. Streams of red and green streamed from his wand only to bounce off the skin of the dark
demon. The demon reached for him once, twice, and on the third attempt caught hold of the arm of
the elusive conjurer before he could Apparate away again. She shook him hard and snapped his arm
like a toothpick. Dumbledore dropped his wand but cast one more spell at point blank range before
the demon's clawed fist enveloped his head and began to squeeze. Dumbledore's body twitched
as he was slowly raised from the floor and then the demon tossed it aside where it lay limply on
the ground near the sealed portal.

When the demon turned she roared, “WHERE IS THE THIRD WHO HELPED SEAL MY GATE?! AND WHERE IS THE
FALSE QUEEN?!”

Corlyn, still bowing deeply, indicated with an outstretched hand his new prisoners. “They have
all been captured to do with as you please, my Queen.” While focused on fighting the demon, the
vampires had easily surrounded and captured the remaining witches and wizards, about half of whom
were unconscious.

“WELL DONE. PERHAPS I SHALL ALLOW YOU TO LIVE AND SERVE ME AFTER ALL. BRING THEM. TAKE THE METAL
SHIRT FROM HIM BUT DO NOT WAKE HIM YET. I HAVE ONE FINAL USE FOR HIM.”

The rows of vampires carried and marched the prisoners after the demon into the palace itself.
Deeper and deeper into the bowels of the palace she descended until she halted in a large hall
before a large set of massive doors.

“Why would they hide it in the Royal Treasury? That seems fairly obvious…”

“OF COURSE IT IS YOU FOOL! IT IS NOT IN THERE, BUT IT IS SOMEWHERE CLOSE, I CAN SENSE IT. BUT
ONE OF THESE WILL HAVE TO FIND IT FOR US—THE ATHLANTI LAID POWERFUL PROTECTIONS TO KEEP SUCH AS US
FROM FINDING THE ORB. WAKE THE SHIRTLESS ONE.”

As one of the vampires struck Harry hard across the face and then raised its wand and hissed
“*ENERVATE!”* the demon grabbed Ginny and Hermione by their throats and lifted them from their
feet. Their legs dangling, they fought to hang on to her steady wrists and pull themselves up to
keep the full weight of their bodies from crushing the life from them.

“FIND ME THE ORB MAGELING OR YOUR FRIENDS DIE SLOWLY,” she commanded Harry who rubbed the side
of his head gingerly as the vampire-witch handed him his wand. “NO CLEVER TRICKS!” To emphasize her
point, the demon snapped both sets of her fangs in the faces of the two girls.

Harry's eyes flashed angrily but he turned wordlessly towards the large hall, closing his
eyes in concentration. There was a lot of very powerful, protective magic emanating from the floor
and walls of the chamber. He stepped carefully, sensing for something slightly different than the
various protective wards he had detected. Finally, under a very thick shielding, he perceived a
pulsing flow of energy that seemed to whisper “*Life. Death. Life. Death. Life.
Death.**”* It had to be the orb. But what else was protecting it he wondered. There was
another type of magic as well, something very subtle. He couldn't quite figure out what it was
as he moved carefully, cautiously through the chamber. He looked upward, where he knew there was a
hidden door and the orb they were all seeking. Then he realized what the final trap was.

“I can't get it,” he shouted back to the watching spectators.

“DO NOT TRIFLE WITH ME MORTAL. THEIR LIVES MEAN NOTHING TO ME!” threatened the demon as she
slowly squeezed her fists around the throats of Ginny and Hermione.

“Only an Athlanti can get it. If anybody else tries, this whole place goes boom, and your damned
orb with it!” shouted Harry. “If you'll let me, I'll show Dobby, the house elf who came
with us, how to get it. But first, release my friends.”

Harry could see the looks of astonishment on Lupin and Samuel's faces as the demon chuckled.
“I ALMOST LIKE YOU MAGELING. YOU ARE VERY UNPREDICTABLE. AND VERY BRAVE. VERY WELL, YOU CAN HAVE
YOUR RED HEADED FRIEND. BUT GET ME MY ORB BEFORE MY PATIENCE RUNS OUT COMPLETELY.”

Harry looked at Dobby pleadingly and Dobby followed Harry's path through the hall to his
side.

“Master,” begged Dobby. “Please do not do this. It would be better if we all died than if she
were to gain control…”

“I know,” hissed Harry, pointing at the ceiling as if he were explaining how to get the orb.
“But she will simply get another elf to do it if you don't. Besides, I'm working on a
plan.”

“Really?” asked Dobby. “What is it?”

“Well, I'm not sure yet. I haven't thought of anything yet. But I'll come up with
something, don't worry. Now, this is what I need you to do…”

Harry carefully levitated Dobby past several more traps in the air near the secret compartment
where he believed the orb to be hidden. Dobby hesitantly reached towards the panel Harry had
indicated and pressed his palm into it. It glowed a dim green and then slid back. There was a pause
of silence and then down floated a small orb made of crystal and some sort of dark metal wire. It
looked beautiful and the sense of power it exuded nearly overwhelmed Harry for a moment before he
regained his equilibrium. Exquisite and beautiful, but also dangerous and deadly. Dobby floated
back down with the orb in his hand and gave it to Harry.

Harry turned towards the demon and shouted, “Now release my friends and I'll give you the
orb whole. Hurt them and you can pick up the pieces yourself.” He lifted the orb up in his hand and
grasped it tightly.

The demon's head tilted back and she roared with laughter. “YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO MAKE
THREATS, MAGELING. I TIRE OF YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS.” She raised Hermione above her head and grabbed
her waist with one of her other hands. Looking at the terrified faces of Harry and Hermione she
said, “YOU MOCKED THE STRENGTH AND SPEED GIVEN YOU BY THE ELDOR, LET US SEE IF YOU APPRECIATE MY
GIFT OF A BROKEN BODY!” She then brought Hermione down with crushing force as she raised her knee
into her spine. There was a loud snap and then she tossed Hermione to the side of the passage where
she lay motionless as she began to chuckle. “NOW GIVE ME MY ORB OR I'LL START WITH THE
AUGHHHH!!!” she screamed in agony.

Harry's eyes flashed to the side as he saw Corlyn leap with his mail shirt onto the back of
the demon and throw it over her head, trying to smother her with it. A cloud of steam and smoke
rose from her head and shoulders as she spun madly and clawed at the painful shirt. One claw
snatched Corlyn and tossed him down the passage while the other threw the mail shirt behind her as
she turned towards the vampires, screaming in agony.

There was a sound like crackling lightening that shot down the hallway and dozens of the
vampires fell as Harry and Dobby ran back to the side of Hermione. Harry could hear that awful
whining sound starting in his head as he struggled to breathe. Most of the vampires had abandoned
their prisoners to try and attack the demon. Harry could hear its laughter echoing in the hallway
and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Suddenly Ron was by his side whispering, “She's alive Harry. She's alive. But we've
got to get her out of here.”

Harry gasped in relief, the sphere tumbling from his numb fingers to roll by the side of
Hermione. Tears running down his face, Harry raised his face to where the demon stood knocking down
vampires almost effortlessly.

“She'll come for us wherever we go. And destroy the world in the meantime. But we can buy
her some time. Dobby, can you get past the anti-Apparation wards and take her and Ginny and Luna to
the portal and…”

“I am sorry Master, but they are too powerful here in the palace…”

“I feared as much. No, we finish this today.” There was something buzzing in his head, not the
whining fear for Hermione, but something else. Then he remembered. The voice inside his head that
always sounded like Hermione's repeated for him,

*“**Alone brave Althius stood and faced the fiend*

*he took red fire from the sky*

*and hurled white lightening*

*which str**uck down the wyrm where it stood.**”*

Harry thought furiously. “*Red fire, white lightening—but spells, swords, nothing has worked
on her yet…that spear...why did she send it away…what was she afraid of…my shirt, it hurt her! Red
fire, white lightening! That's it!”*

Harry opened his eyes and they burned with intense determination. “Keep her busy for a minute if
she finishes with the vamps. I've got a plan.”

Harry closed his eyes in concentration as sweat broke out on his brow and the temperature
dropped dangerously. Raising his hand, he called out softly, “*Accio sword.**”* A
brilliant white longsword flew through the air and he snatched it easily from the air and turned
towards the demon, who was still fighting the remaining vampires.

As Harry stepped forward, Samuel and Remus stepped back, giving him some room. Harry stretched
out his hand and caused several large blocks of stone to fly from the walls and ground to strike
the demon's sides and head. She whirled in fury and then a pair of grins spread across her
face.

“We're not done playing yet hellspawn,” snarled Harry.

“YOU ARE AMUSING FOR A MORTAL,” she cackled with maniacal glee. Harry stepped forward, raising
his sword so that it was parallel to the ground, just above his eyes. He tilted it slightly so that
the flickering torchlight would flash in her eyes. He smiled menacingly as he saw her eyes flicker
with concern. Then he leaped forward, slashing low and spinning to the left. As she brought one of
her arms across to lash at his side, he stepped into it, bracing with both arms and let her arm
swing across the blade. The force of her blow rattled his teeth, but also sent her arm flying
across the corridor where it struck a vampire and knocked it to the floor.

Screaming in pain, the demon hopped back, one of its arms cradling her severed appendage. Harry
laughed coldly. The corridor, though wide, was not made for a creature of the demon's size, and
though faster and stronger than Harry, it found itself cramped by the narrowness of the hall while
Harry used all of his training and speed to his advantage. Rather than launching full assaults
where he might leave himself open to a counterattack, he taunted and enraged the creature, using
the demon's pain and fear of the sword to his advantage and trying to goad it into making more
mistakes. Soon the monster was down to two limbs though it seemed twice as furious.

Sensing the demon was about to charge, Harry waited until the last moment to duck to the side as
he sliced hard and parallel with the floor. Luckily the demon's momentum severed the leg right
below the knee for him, nevertheless, Harry nearly had his sword ripped from his hands as the
monster tumbled to the ground. The monster kept rolling and Harry realized what it was trying to do
as he rolled quickly to his feet. Harry took two running steps and leaped forward desperately,
reversing his grip on the sword. As he was about to land on the demon's back, the demon spun
back to face Harry. Harry's sword plunged through its chest as the two remaining claws crashed
together on either side of Harry's rib cage and began scratching and clawing their way towards
his heart.

“YOU WILL die mageling!” growled the demon.

“Perhaps Valypsa, but so will you. And my queen will live,” grunted Harry as it became tougher
to breathe. He wrenched the sword, trying to twist it in the torso and cause more damage to the
anatomy within that he couldn't even begin to imagine. His chest felt encased in iron and his
vision started to recede to a narrow black tunnel. He shifted his view to the side to look at
Hermione once more. “*I might die, but she will live! She will live!”*

Suddenly, the pressure was relieved and he sucked in a lungful of air painfully. He saw Remus
and Samuel pulling back one arm and Hagrid, with his face covered in blood, pulling back the other
arm. Tiredly, he turned at the sound of chuckling.

“Mr. Potter, you never cease to amaze me. And now I must thank you for fulfilling the prophecy
for me,” explained Corlyn, holding the crystal and wire orb aloft in his hand. “Once again I am
nearly without a family, and you are once again to blame, though not entirely this time. It's a
pity, but it seems we have both lost our queens, as well as a number of pawns. But no matter, as
long as the King survives, correct?”

Harry simply stared at him angrily, searching for his fourth or fifth wind.

“Surrender now, Corlyn, and I'll find you a real nice box to lay in for the rest of
eternity. Brass hinges and everything. I'll even put you in a nice suit for once and do
something with your hair…”

“Valypsa was right—you can be quite amusing. But now we finish this.” He brought the orb closer
to his face and then raised it aloft.

Harry looked up and then glanced over at Ron before his gaze returned to Corlyn. “This is your
last chance Corlyn. Accept my terms of surrender or it's going to get real nasty for you and
your ugly brood in a minute.”

Corlyn's eyes flashed angrily at Harry and then snapped to the left as he saw motion. But it
was too late. Ron swung *Shadowbreaker* with all the power and strength that he had, severing
Corlyn's upraised arm at the elbow while Harry called out “*Accio orb!”*

Corlyn reached for Ron's face with his other arm even as he screamed in agony. Ron
transformed and caught the vampire's hand in his large, weretiger mouth and clamped down with
all the rage he could muster. Then he pulled backwards, and using Corlyn's forward momentum,
flipped him into the middle of the surviving wizards. Even as the surviving wizards advanced, the
other vampires heeded Corlyn's call for help and launched a ferocious attack. The melee swept
back and forth, though numbers and energy heavily favored the vampires.

Meanwhile, Harry had snatched up *Shadowbreaker* while Ron attacked one of the other
vampires. As Corlyn stalked closer, Harry dropped the orb into his pouch and pulled out a long
wooden stake.

“You know that won't kill me,” snarled Corlyn as he stepped closer.

“We'll see about that,” taunted Harry. He dodged several of Corlyn's attacks, and
finally worked his way around so that his back was covered by his fellow wizards.

“It's only a matter of time Potter. You and yours will all…”

Corlyn looked down in disbelief as a thin wooden stake emerged from his chest. He fell to his
knees, clawing at what he now realized was a wand. Around him the other vampires collapsed. Aardus,
a wide smile on his lips, toppled over at his side.

“You really needed someone to watch your back, Corlyn,” taunted Harry as he swept his sword
under the Eldor's chin. He fell to his knees beside Aardus and asked wearily, “Are you
sure?”

Aardus nodded and then fell over as Harry reached again into his pouch. He pulled out what
appeared to be a round, yellow stone but was in fact a piece of amber with a dragonfly caught in
the middle. There was a clear, nearly indestructible shell of wizard crystal around the golden
colored gem that made it harder than diamond. It was a very special gem created for one purpose.
“*Animi* *Expugnare**”* whispered Harry softly.

Samuel and Remus looked at Harry with wide eyes and some concern as Harry placed the gem back in
his pouch. He then pulled out the orb and looked at it and then glanced over at Hermione who slowly
opened her eyes.

“We could bring back Snape and Dumbledore and the others who died today. We could bring back
everyone who died fighting against Voldemort Mione. Maybe even Sirius and my parents…”

“*We can't Harry.* *We were never meant to have so much power over life and
death.* *This orb is cursed—it* *has destroyed everyone and everything it has touched. We
must destroy it before it does the same to us.”*

“But think of all the good we could do. We wouldn't have to use it for violent purposes,
we'd just use the power to grant life—what could possibly be wrong with that?”

“*Of course you'd start out that way, Harry. But wha**t happens if I'm attacked
again?* *Can you tell me you wouldn't at least be tempted to use it against those who hurt
me or someone else close to you**?* *And after you're gone,* *who would take
care of it then?* *No Harry, we must get rid of it. You know that.”*

“But I could change the world with it, Mione. I could make it a better place, a place of peace
we've all dreamed about for years.”

Hermione struggled to speak out loud, “Harry, it has changed the world and made it worse. It
nearly destroyed the world of elves—it would do the same or worse to our world.”

Harry bowed his head and let the tears fall. “I'm sorry Mione. I was being selfish.”
Suddenly he rose to his feet and with a surge of power that sucked all of the warmth from the air
again, he melted the wires holding the orb together. There was a tinkling of glass, and then a loud
whooshing sound, as if all of the air had been sucked from the chamber and passageway, then there
was an echoing boom that knocked everyone from their feet.

In the silence that followed, the survivors struggled to stand again. Harry walked over to
Hermione and bent over her. He reached into his pouch and pulled out one of her SAPs and handed it
to her. “Here, drink this.”

She drank slowly, coughing as it went down. After a moment Harry asked, “Is that better?”

“*Actually, I don't think it had any effect at all.”*

“What? Here, try another one.”

“*No. I'll wait until I get back to Madam Pomfrey and the Healers.”*

“How is your back?”

“It's a little sore,” she lied. Actually, she couldn't feel anything from her waist
down, but didn't want either her or Harry to have to deal with it right then.

Remus and Samuel looked at the remains of Corlyn and the demon and whistled.

Samuel crouched down and commented. “Nice work Potter. What did you do to your sword to finish
her off?”

“I made a new one out of my mail shirt. It was made out of adastrimite, a metal the dwarves mine
from meteorites. One of the stanzas from a poem that Hermione found talked about how the demon was
defeated last time. Red fire from the sky and white lightening hurled at the demon killed it last
time. I made the connection with the silver-white spear Gabrielle threw into the demon gate with
the fact that she was afraid of my mail shirt.”

Remus scratched his head. “Well, then why didn't the spear kill her? Why was she still
alive? Is she still alive now?”

“I think the reason may be something that a dwarf told me. He told me the only ones who could
really work with adastrimite were the dwarves, human wizards could never get the metal to do what
they wanted. I guess the elven weaponsmiths weren't much better at working adastrimite.”

“Well then how did you…”

“I used my elemental magic. Fairly easy actually…”

“For an elemental mage,” snorted Samuel. “Show off,” he muttered under his breath.

“Too bad I lost the mail shirt, though. It was pretty handy and I could have used it a few
minutes ago,” he commented, rubbing the bleeding wounds on his sides gingerly.

“What?” asked Samuel. “Surely you could remake the shirt or the dwarves…”

“I don't think I'll be pulling that sword out of that demon anytime soon. I kind of
prefer her dead.”

“And how did Aardus manage to kill Corlyn? I thought…” began Remus.

“We have Hermione to thank for that. She might have been banged up a bit, but she still managed
to help Aardus break the bonds that Corlyn had over him.”

“And do you know what attacked Corlyn the first time? And how did *Shadowbreaker* get back
down here? And what did you do with that orange rock? Did you really do what I think you…”
continued Samuel.

“I think I've revealed enough secrets for today. I think we ought to go home. But first
I'll see if Dobby can bring Madame Pomfrey and some of the Healers to help…”

Harry's voice trailed off as he and the others stopped to stare at Dobby. Or who they
assumed was Dobby. On the edge of the group stood a tall slender creature, nearly five feet high,
with beautifully proportioned features, if very slightly large eyes. Dobby too, seemed amazed at
the transformation.

“Master Potter has done it. He has removed the curse from the elves. We are free now.” He
reached out and touched one of the walls and closed his eyes. “I can feel the magic flowing through
me,” he marveled. Along the wall, the cracks and fissures were repairing themselves and the wall
was reassuming a bright, sparkling white. Dobby pulled his hand away and gasped in awe.

“Can you help Hermione or Hagrid?” asked Harry eagerly.

“I am sorry, I cannot. Healing is one of the greatest arts, and we elves have forgotten much
that we once knew. I know very little of it myself. But let me bring those who can. I will be back
in a moment.”

“Five minutes later, Dobby had arrived with McGonagall, Pomfrey, and half a dozen healers from
St. Mungo's. They examined Hermione and put her on a stretcher and began floating her out—Harry
never leaving her side. They tried to put Hagrid on a stretcher, but he insisted on walking out,
though he let them give him two potions for the pain. As they walked back up out of the castle,
they saw another half dozen or so mediwitches tending to the Aurors, some of the Muggle workers who
had been hurt, and to the surprise of everyone—Dumbledore. Several blankets covered the bodies of
those who had fallen, including that of Snape.

Dobby ran over and embraced the other elves that were there and they chatted happily among
themselves for a moment. They quickly devised a way to make the enchantments providing the air
pocket follow the group that would soon be leaving and helped Remus calm down the frightened
Muggles.

Ten minutes later, with their patients stabilized and on stretchers, Remus and Samuel led the
sad procession of survivors back to the portal through the devastated city as Harry walked by
Hermione, holding her hand gently.

-->



42. Epilogue: A New World
-------------------------



Ch 42 A New World

Ten years later, Minerva looked over the Great Hall from the professors' table with a smile
of satisfaction as she gazed at the various guests who had come for the special ceremony.

As she sat in the Headmistress's chair, she recalled wistfully of Dumbledore's last
months of life. He had managed to survive the Battle of Atlantis, but had never been quite the same
afterwards. He had been lucid most of the time and had been able to put his affairs in order and
visit with his closest friends up until the time he passed away. Most importantly, he had gotten a
chance to get to know better the son he had never really known before he died. She smiled for a
moment as she wondered what grand adventure Dumbledore was on now.

She glanced down the table at Samuel, the DADA professor and bowed her head slightly. He grinned
back and plopped another large bite of steak into his mouth. They had never been able to figure out
how his mother, Albus's wife, had escaped from the destroyed cottage and made it all the way to
America—she had died when Samuel was very little and he had been raised in an orphanage, completely
unaware of his past. Samuel had finally stopped looking for the answer, grateful for the few months
he had to spend with his dying father, and happy with his new `Auntie,' as he insisted on
calling her. She missed Severus and Albus deeply, but Samuel and many of her former students helped
fill the void.

She looked for a moment at Fleur and Bill, with their four beautiful children. It had been very
difficult at first for Fleur, Hogwarts brought back so many memories of her sister, but the Weasley
family had helped her through her sorrow and grief. Minerva still felt bad that such a sweet little
girl had been the first to fall at the battle—she had been very brave, but somewhat foolish to try
and help close the demon gate with Albus, Severus, and Harry.

On the other side of Samuel, she saw Hagrid thoroughly enjoying his meal as well. He caught her
glance and gave her a wink with that horrible green eye of his and she tried not to shudder as he
bent back over his plate. It wasn't his heavily scarred face that bothered her, it was that
horrid little eye he used to replace the one he had lost in the battle. Harry had created it for
him, and in a shared joke with Hagrid, had made it green to match his own eyes and those of his
mother, Lily. Hagrid proudly called it his beastie eye, and it gave most of the students the
creeps. Harry had enchanted it with some of the visual abilities of some of the rarer magical
creatures, much to Hagrid's pleasure. At least it didn't spin in his head like Moody's
had.

On the other side of the table sat several of her Heads of House with their families. Draco sat
with his Muggle wife Danica and their two children. After the battle, Draco had left the wizarding
world for several years until Harry and several of his other friends had found him and urged him to
return. Draco taught flying and served as the Head of Slytherin. Luna was seated next to her
husband, Ron, with their four children. Luna taught Arithmancy and was the Head of Gryffindor. Ron
had become an Auror, and was paired with Neville Longbottom. They were two of the most respected
and decorated Aurors in the department's history. Luna and Ron stood to go say hi to Neville
and Ginny, who had just arrived. Luna still limped slightly from the wounds she had suffered during
the Battle of Atlantis.

Neville and Ginny sat at a table in front with their three children and the rest of the
Weasleys. Ginny still wrote under her pseudonym for *T**he* *Quibbler,* but also
served as one of the managing editors. She and Luna continued to produce the most widely read and
respected paper in Great Britain. Her eyes scanned over the rest of the table and she smiled at
Arthur and Molly. Arthur had announced that this was the last term he would serve as the Minister
of Magic and there was widespread speculation about who would follow him. Molly simply beamed as
she gazed around at her numerous grandchildren. Charlie and his wife and their four children were
seated with them, as were the twins. She sent a warning look at the two, who both glanced up at her
and grinned mischievously. One of them was sitting with Padma Patil, who with her sister had
developed a very successful line of clothing stores and, rumor had it, kept a very short leash on
Fred—or was it George? She could never remember which twin was dating Padma. The gossip pages,
which Minerva hardly ever read, also mentioned that one of the twins was frequently seen about the
town with a certain young Chaser from the Chudley Cannons. But she couldn't remember her name
either—Ron would probably know. Unfortunately, their joke shop continued to be the best and most
successful of its kind, a fact she was reminded of each day in class as she was forced to
confiscate prohibited and occasionally illegal items from their store. But she had also heard that
they developed a number of items for use by the Aurors and other departments in the Ministry. She
sighed and rolled her eyes as she tried to imagine what sort of prank the pair had planned for this
evening.

Her eyes continued to roam over the rest of the crowd, nodding to various individuals in the
room, former students and various officials from the Ministry. She smiled at Remus, who was half
hidden in the shadows of one wall, taking his security detail very seriously. She almost
laughed—with all the powerful guests that would be here tonight, someone would have to be crazy to
try anything. But she realized sadly, this ceremony would make a tempting target to some of those
unhappy with the changes taking place in the wizarding world.

A dull roar at the back of the hall could only mean one thing. Harry and Hermione had finally
arrived with their four children. Hermione walked in, her arm held gracefully by Harry as they
posed for several photos just inside the massive doors. They both turned and held their arms out to
their children. Minerva noticed a young photographer raise his camera to take a picture of the
beautiful children only to freeze at an icy glare from Harry. Minerva chuckled. One of the other
photographers leaned over to him and pushed his camera down and whispered something to the young
wizard. She smiled as she recalled a story about some photographer who had somehow slipped into the
maternity ward after Hermione had just given birth to the twins. He had snapped a couple of shots
and fled before anybody could stop him. When he had returned to his office to show his editor his
exclusive shots however, he discovered that the film was blank and his camera had been transformed
into a perfect replica of a human skull. Hermione laid her hand on Harry's shoulder and he
finally turned from the young man, who had begun to tremble. Their children, James and Lily, who
were twins, led Sirius and Albus, the two younger boys, and sprinted through the crowd towards the
table where most of the Weasleys sat.

Minerva grinned happily as she counted again how many years before the first Weasley and Potter
children would be old enough to start attending Hogwarts. It wouldn't be long now she mused,
then maybe once they're through, if she survived that long, she'd think about retiring. As
Sirius and Albus ran over to `Uncles' Fred and George, she watched as tiny packets quickly
enter the young boys' pockets and second guessed herself momentarily. Suddenly she wasn't
sure she could deal with a third generation of Maruaders. She made a mental note to herself to
inform Hermione later about the secret exchange. She humphed as she recalled that it did no good to
tell Harry, he simply encouraged that kind of behavior.

As Hermione and Harry walked toward the table, Minerva smiled happily again. Unless one knew
Hermione well, one would never guess that she was still paralyzed. The Healers of St. Mungos had
been unable to heal the tremendous damage done to Hermione's back—they had been amazed she had
even survived the brutal attack. Minerva herself wasnn't sure whether it was the extent of the
damage, or the fact that Hermione wasn't exactly human that made most of the potions and spells
they had tried virtually useless to her. They all learned that Hermione had to heal slowly and
naturally from injuries she sustained, magical treatments had been almost completely ineffective.
Hermione had dealt with the injury fairly well—it had been Harry who had struggled the most. Of
course, he had felt it was all his fault and blamed himself. He had made it his personal mission to
find a way to help her—and he had. He had called in favors from the Goblins and the Dwarves—she
imagined that they would have been more than happy to help them in any case—and with Harry's
help they had created a special set of magical braces tuned in to Hermione's wand core. The
braces had been implanted in every one of her bones from the waist down, and allowed her to move as
if she had never been injured.

As was typical with Harry, he had created a foundation to help other similarly injured witches
and wizards as well. In fact, Minerva wasn't sure she would be able to name all the different
causes to which the Potters donated funds. For a while, there had been a friendly rivalry between
Harry and Draco to see who could give away more money to good causes, but it seemed the more Harry
spent, the more he earned. The Dwarves of Clan Bilundergad and Clan Angisle, as well as the Elves
of Atlantis and the Goblins of Gringott's Bank all insisted on giving Harry and Hermione a
small percentage of all their profits from trade as a token of appreciation for what they did for
the magical world. Some had called for Harry to renounce his seat on the Wizengamot as a result but
Harry refused and only recused himself from voting on measures concerning commerce.

She watched as Harry and Hermione stopped at a table on the side to visit for a few minutes with
several of the representatives from the different magical races who were in attendance. She saw
Dobby from the Elves of course, Fribig from the Dwarves, Firenze from the Centaurs, and a Goblin
named Grudley. All four were old friends of the Potters and had worked together on a number of
projects. In fact, Harry and Hermione were the only humans she know of that had visited the
underground caverns of the Goblins or the rebuilt halls of the Dwarves. The Elves had invited all
of the Witches and Wizards who had fought in the Battle of Atlantis back to the rebuilt city, and
Minerva had been told the city was simply breathtaking. All three races were thriving, and they had
Harry and Hermione to thank for much it. And they had in more ways than could be counted.
Minerva's smile faded only slightly when she thought about the fact that Harry and Hermione
were probably treated far better and more highly respected among the Goblins, the Dwarves, the
Elves, the Dragons, and the Centaurs than they were among their fellow witches and wizards.

Aside from his extensive interaction with several of the other races and his occasional
participation in the Wizengamot, exactly what Harry did continued to be the topic of much debate
and occasional joking in several of the papers and among certain sections of the public. Most
suspected he was an Auror, though he had no official standing in the department and had never
completed the Auror training course. Others argued that he simply lived off his considerable income
and used it to travel and play around the world, like some sort of spoiled rich brat.

Minerva chuckled. She did not know for sure either, but she did read the papers closely enough
and knew Harry and his friend well enough to know that when Harry did go abroad, either Samuel,
Remus, Neville, or Ron often went as well, and that after Harry returned from his supposed ski
vacation or big game safari, some local threat to the magical world had often disappeared as well.
She suspected Albus had been right all along, that Harry would never have cut it working as an
Auror for the Ministry, that he was much better off working on his own or with a few close friends
to deal with some problem or threat. She believed he was probably some sort of unofficial Auror,
willing to deal with dangers that Aurors from the Ministry either couldn't or weren't
allowed to deal with on their own.

But if it was difficult to determine exactly what Harry did, it was nearly impossible to list
everything that Hermione was involved in. She had worked for a few years in the Ministry, but had
left in frustration as bureaucrats and bureaucracy got in the way of the changes she was trying to
bring about. Unhappy about the pace of reform within the Ministry, she had organized various groups
to bring pressure on the Ministry from without. Minerva had always been amazed that it had never
caused friction between her and any of the Weasleys, and wondered again if Arthur hadn't
actually encouraged her to leave the Ministry and apply pressure on it from a different angle. For
instance, Hermione and Harry had recently pushed through legislation that would allow Elves,
Dwarves, Goblins, and Centaurs to elect representatives to sit in the Wizengamot and speak for
their various races. With Madame Bone's help, and that of a variety of other groups, they were
making strides towards rewriting many of the laws that affected other magical races negatively.
Minerva was very happy that Hermione was ready for a new stage in her continual battle for fair and
equal treatment of other races in the magical world.

Now that people in the Great Hall were finally settling down, Minerva stood to address the large
crowd. “Witches and Wizards, members of the press and the Ministry, as well as distinguished
visitors and representatives, it is my pleasure to welcome you to this dedicatory ceremony. Due to
the generous funding by so many prominent wizarding families and interested groups, we have been
able to finish this new addition to Hogwarts castle. This new wing will be known as Dumbledore
Hall, in memory of my eminent predecessor. It was not only his dream, but the dream of many of
those here today to build a better world for all of us. One of the best ways to create a better
future is to start with the children—even children like Fred and George Weasley.” She waited for
the laughter to die down before continuing. “It is my honor to announce that starting this fall,
Hogwarts will be teaching children of all the magical races who wish to attend. We understand there
have been a few concerns among some in the wizarding community, which is why we are also pleased to
announce the appointment of a new Deputy Headmistress to assist me during this wonderful new era of
growth at Hogwarts. May I present to you someone who has labored on behalf of the other races since
she was a student herself, someone who has served Great Britain for three years as a special
ambassador to the Elves, the Dwarves, the Centaurs, the Dragons, and the Goblins, someone who has
long been a very dear and close friend, someone who really needs no introduction—Hermione Potter,
who will also serve as the new Head of Ravenclaw.”

There was a thundering of applause, most of it coming from the Head table and the Weasley
table.

Hermione slowly stood and raised her hands. In a rich, beautiful voice, she said, “Thank you
very much for your support. We have great dreams for the children of today and tomorrow, and with
your help, we will make a better world for them. Thank you. Thank you.”

Minerva looked on happily as those in attendance discussed the announcements over dinner.

*-*-*

Later, they stood side by side on a patio overlooking a huge Quidditch pitch under a beautiful
sky full of stars.

“So, tell me what you really think Harry.”

“I think you're going to do a terrific job with the new students Mione. I don't think
there is anybody who might understand them better or be better prepared to help them through seven
years at Hogwarts. But I do pity anybody who gets in your way…”

Hermione punched him playfully and then her face tightened in concern when Harry winced
slightly. “I'm sorry. Are you alright?” she asked, her hands moving gently over his arm.

“I'm fine. It's nothing.”

*“Aardus? What happened?”*

*“Nothing. He's…”*

*“You can't lie to me Aardus,”* insisted Hermione, glancing at the hilt on Harry's
hip that no longer bore a bright red ruby, but instead a golden amber gem. *“Even if it says
Potter on the blade now, it is still the Sword of Gryffindor, and we* *have all* *taken
an oath* *to**…”*

“Alright, look,” admitted Harry. “The doppelgangers had some allies we didn't know about.
There were some Dark Wizards experimenting with some weird sort of hybrid between a wyvern and a
tiger I think. We didn't know they were working together or…”

“I thought Ron and Neville went with you?”

“They did. They were a little busy with some of the other—uhh—creations. I don't even know
how to start describing what they were creating—I think even Hagrid would have found it too much.
Don't worry, it was just a little scratch. It's almost completely healed.”

“I should have gone with you. I should have known that the four of you couldn't stay out of
trouble…”

*“I deeply resent that Hermione. I have been handling problems* *like this for*
*centuries before either of you were even born and…”*

“Mione, you know what you were doing with the wand use bill will have a much more significant
impact than mopping up a few doppelgangers and some Dark Wizards…”

Hermione sighed and laid her hand softly on Harry's arm. “Not to the future victims you just
saved. But I hope it will help somehow.”

“It will. And the looks on their faces when the bill was brought to a vote—it was simply
precious…”

“Oh, come on. I'm not that bad. You should have seen that poor photographer's face when
you finished glaring at him…”

“Well, he should have known the rules. Our children are completely off limits. Write what they
want about me, but…”

Hermione chuckled. “Always the overprotective father. But with your own kids, you are such a
pushover.”

“I am not.”

“Then why did you let Sirius and Albus keep those *Monster Mess Making* packets the twins
gave them? I'm not going to clean up whatever they destroy this time, you know. You are.”

“Hey, it's good for them to be creative like that…” argued Harry. “Besides, the way you
blindsided Weatherby and Snitchcombe with that new bill that would allow wands to be sold to other
races and made sure they couldn't keep it in the drafting committee was not exactly nice
or…”

“That is completely different. What I did was entirely within the rules of order for presenting
legislation. Besides, it deserves a full vote on the bill as it is written now, not some watered
down version full of pork twenty months from now.”

“Don't worry Mione. You're going to be great. You're great at whatever you do.”

“Thanks. Have I told you how much I love…”

“MUM! Sirius turned my hairbrush into a broom again and he won't get off it!”

Hermione glanced quickly at Harry. He heard “*Your turn. I dealt with the* *tap
dancing* *spoons* *that kept catapulting oatmeal* *at breakfast this morning.”*
Harry simply sighed and ran back into the house.

“DAD! Lily—OWW!—is using a summoning charm to—OWW!—knock me into a—OWW!”

Hermione decided Harry might need some help and quickly followed.

As they finally restored order, Hermione glanced at Harry.

“*This is our toughest job isn't it?”*

*“It's our greatest adventure.**”*

*“Yeah, our best adventure.”*

*“**I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here with you and them.”*

*“Me too. I love this job. And I love…”*

“Hey! Quit talking like that you two!” whined James. “If you're going to say something about
us, at least say it so we can hear it.”

“We love you,” replied Harry and Hermione as they gathered their children in a huge bear hug
that quickly turned into a tickling war.

It was nice to be home.

*Finis.*

*** Author's Note—Thank you all very much for reading this story. It turned out to be much
longer than I had ever imagined, and much better, I hope. Thank you for all of your helpful and
wonderful comments.

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